I still remember ‘gotcha day’. My little angel didn’t make a sound when she was handed to us but just looked around as if to take it all in. I’m sure Kristin will let us know what she thought about it at a later time.

Back in the quietness of our room, it wasn’t long before she began to move around a little more and we gradually coaxed her into eating some cheerios. Following a bath and a bottle, she was off to sleep. Since I am a light sleeper, we put the crib right up next to my side of the bed so I could hear her if she woke up. I could lay on my pillow at her level and see her sleeping.

When morning came, I woke up to see my little daughter lying on her stomach with her face turned to me. She was looking at me and probably trying to figure out who and what I was. As we lay there staring into each others eyes, I reached over the side of the crib and rubbed the back of her hand. When she was first placed in our arms, she would pull away as if to say “not so fast”. But this morning was different. This morning as I lay there rubbing the back of her hand she just lay there looking into my eyes.

After quite a while, I sat up and offered to remove her from the crib and she accepted. I brought her in bed and lay her on my bare chest and she seemed to just mould to me for awhile.

From this moment on when I was in sight, Kristin would want dad. In all our travels, she rode on my back in her baby nap sack with her hands on my shoulders. Three days later when we visited the orphanage, she responded to the care givers as they called her name in Chinese but when they put out their hands she wouldn’t budge from dad.

After two weeks in China, it was pretty evident that dad and his little girl had made quite a connection. That connection grows even stronger today.

We live in strange times. I don’t know how to describe what I mean other than to say fathers aren’t allowed to be real fathers. Today we can talk about moms and how they make the world go around. And I wholeheartedly believe that, but it seems that if we give fathers the same level of importance it is insulting and wrong.

If we were all honest we could discuss at length the impact our father has made on who we have become. How important fathers are to children just can’t be ignored. As it relates to their mental development, emotional strength, and future potential cannot be emphasized enough. But in today’s world we can’t say that and really mean it. Maybe it’s because feeling so strong about being a father to your children unavoidably casts a shadow on those who have not, or are not, fulfilling that role. There certainly is no shortage of those types of dads, but that is not my intention. I am simply telling my purpose in the life of my children and how strong a role I want to have in who they become.

So here’s what I have to say:

I am not ashamed to be the father of my children. I am not embarrassed to admit that I’ll do whatever it takes to teach them the things I think they need to know for their futures. I will teach them to be good sports. Yes, there are lessons in losing, but I also want them to play to win. They’ll be allowed to play with toy guns and wrestle with each other until someone gets a bloody nose. Sometimes I’ll even let them throw rocks to break the windows in abandoned buildings. But they will also learn to be gentlemen and open doors for women. They will know that it is OK to cry. I will tell them to let their future wives pick the movie on date night and save the zombie movies for a night out with the guys.

And when I have a daughter I will spend time with her and let her know how beautiful and valuable she is. I will teach her to be nurturing, but to never let anyone treat her like a second-class citizen. I will make sure she learns to be strong enough to find a husband that treats her like a queen, but to be secure enough to let him lead in the home.

I think we live in a world devoid of true fathers. So men, let’s be fathers to our children. Let’s not be ashamed to admit that they really need us. They need a strong dad in their lives.

Did you know you can stop time? Or at least just lose all track of it? At our house, sometimes all it takes is five little words: “Daddy, come play with me.” Last night was one of these nights. After getting home and finishing up with dinner, Colby comes up to me and says those five little words. He had been asking ever since I got home, but I told him I needed to eat dinner first.

After dinner, we proceeded to get his cars out and run them down a race track he got for his second birthday. The cars are not made for it, but some work and some do now so he loves it. Now, with three boys in the house, there are plenty of cars to go around so it’s always a contest to see whose car will go down the fastest. Zach and Gabe wanted their turn also, but only being one, it’s hard for them. Zach was just happy taking a car and handing it to me and then grabbing it back from me. I bet we did that for about 5 minutes, but who’s counting?

With Colby and the twins, it’s always an adventure when you get in the floor with them. Needless to say, I have had my share of drool and last night was no exception. I had one gnawing on my foot, one trying to share his pacifier with me and one acting like a dog and licking my shirt. Just another one of those things you never expected the first time your wife told you she was pregnant.

After the twins went to bed, Colby wanted to play Scrabble. Now, don’t think a three-year-old can play scrabble, but he likes to make words on the board and we put different words on there for him to figure out. One thing I want to say and will explain more on later is to not underestimate your child’s ability on anything. Colby is three and can read a lot of three letter words. If he can’t read them, he can sound them out. It’s just amazing what the mind at that age can do if you just push it a little.

After a few rounds of Scrabble, it was time for Colby to go to bed. By this time, it had been 2 hours since he asked me to play. Didn’t seem like it was that long. Time will slip by if you are not careful. It’s always good to take the time to play. 

Our family loves to read. My wife got her degree in English and so she had to do a fair amount of reading. Actually, she had enough credit hours to have received two degrees in English she was so steeped in books in college. Though I had my fair share of books to read for my literature classes in college (and hated many of them) I still enjoy reading a great deal.

My wife and I both made a committment when our children were born to instill in our children a love for reading. We’ve been able to do this mostly because we both read to them. It’s a precious time that we have as a family that they both truly enjoy and covet.

We started reading to them when they were just babies. Most of the time, I would read to them. As a father, I can’t think of anything else that is more precious than to read to your children. My girls are constantly begging me to read more to them. I think they would rather do that than anything else.

Because we homeschool, we also have an opportunity to incorporate reading into our school activities. Usually my wife is reading a book with them during school time and I read a different book with them in the evenings.

Where do you begin? How do you find out what books are good books to read? It’s difficult in this day and age to often find books that appropriate for kids even when they’ve theoretically been written for kids. A good resource we’ve discovered is Honey For A Child’s Heart by Gladys Hunt. While we don’t necessarily agree with all her recommendations, she does a good job of highlighting the best children’s books available by age group and genre and provides a brief synopsis of each book that will help you decide whether it’s a book your family would be interested in.

If you’re ready to start reading aloud to your kids but don’t know what to start with, let me recommend The Chronicles of Narnia by C. S. Lewis. These timeless tales are ideal for reading aloud to your children. Your children are also likely to want to start reading the books on their own after you have finished reading them aloud (which my oldest daughter has decided to do on her own).

Fathers, let me encourage you to put down your newspaper, turn off the television, put aside all the other things that distract you from time with your children and take the time to read aloud to them. A good book read by a father to his children is a truly precious gift and one that you will be glad you shared with your children. You will not only instill in them a love for reading good books but more importantly given them one of the most precious things that you have: your time and your attention.

My mother tells me that my brother and I sometimes get in the “zone.” It’s kind of like the “brother zone” that includes movie lines, looks and jokes that have taken a lifetime to build and no one else can come close to understanding.

I remember once sitting at the kitchen table in my Great Uncle’s house, watching him banter with my grandmother. Both were in their 80s, but the slight ribbing they gave each other reminded me that they probably had the same relationship when they were teens.

I’m watching this relationship build with my own three children. Not long after we came home from China with our daughter, we took a short trip to New Hampshire. There I saw the three kids sitting on the couch, sharing a bowl of goldfish. Something in their look and how they acted together said to me that at some point it will be the three of them against the world.

I love watching them together. Like when my 4 year old grabbed the hand of his little sister. She’s in that early walking stage where she’s stable enough, but has her balance moments. So he’s dragging her through the house… and she LOVED it. They were laughing and giggling, right up until the point where he dragged her, head first, into the wooden side of the stereo speaker. WHAP.

Luckily her head is hard.

Then there was the time my oldest pulled out a big bag of pretzels, without asking, and the other two suddenly show up like ants at a picnic. They’re sitting there, the older two sitting at the counter feeding their sister who is standing with her mouth open like a bird begging for a salty snack. They barely gave me any notice when I walked in and found this little feast.

The three of them are bonding in a way that doesn’t include me or my wife. I want to grab them up and hold them, remind them that they’re my kids, remind myself that I’m their father.

But I know that later I will be part of the meaning behind their looks and an undercurrent to their jokes.