Being a dad is great, I think.

Being a dad is great. It’s fun! You know what else is fun, probably? Not being a dad. I can’t be a hundred-percent sure of the latter, because I don’t remember a single second before these people came kicking and screaming into my life. But I bet you could line up a thousand not-dads and ask them if they have fun, and just about every one of them would cut their eyes to the left real quick as if looking for the punchline, and then huff: Um, duh-uh.

But, whatever. Good for them. All I know is that I am super-happy being a dad. Of course, I never intended to have five kids. I wanted two. Still do sometimes. But the good lord thought it’d be neat to throw three more in there, so what are you gonna do?

You know what, though? Being a dad is great.


I mean it. 

Sure, it’s exhausting. And expensive. And terrifying. And debilitating. And expensive. And frustrating. And maddening, which is not the same thing as frustrating, but almost. There’s just a little bit of crazy thrown in. And very expensive. And gut-wrenching. And sad at times. And anxiety-ridden. And sleepless. And ulcer-inducing. And expensive. And, sure, it costs a lot of money. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. 

These five, incredible creatures bless my life in ways that not-dads can’t possibly imagine. You know, what with the 73 activities they are involved in every week. And the homework. All that freaking homework. And the doctor and dentist and orthodontist appointments. And the eating of all of the food that their mom just bought, like 13 minutes ago, even though they were told that we have to cut back on eating so much food because we can’t go back to the grocery store until after payday because the next several weeks are going to be pretty tight financially. And the missing of the school bus because they can’t find their shoes and so now I’m late for yet another meeting, and the “I have five kids” excuse is getting really old. And the pubescent hormones. And the holy crap, tuition is due again. And the wet towels left on the floor again. And the, oh, yeah, that reminds me, the piles and piles and unrelenting piles of laundry. And the…

He looks kind of like me, doesn’t he? Her smile is just like her mama’s. It really does light up the room. He’s so smart. Good grief, I love to watch her dance. He made the baseball team! She’s doing really well in school. He’s a reader, that one. She cleaned out the dishwasher without even being asked. When he gets tired, he twirls his hair. I love how she loves Jesus. His freckles come out in the summer. She applied to that job all on her own. He asks the most fascinating questions. He’s hilarious. She’s goofy as all get-out. He has such a sweet spirit. She’s a fiery one. She’s turning into a real beauty. He’s kind. She’s compassionate. He’s so loving. He wants the best for everyone. She really gets it. They love each other. They’re for each other…

And I’ve never loved anyone or anything any more than this.

Gosh, this is fun.