Getting this in just under the wire, wouldn't you say? I'm a lucky woman. I was raised by a wonderful, wonderful man. He taught us how to work hard (a lesson I dodged, apparently) and be honest (dodged again) and enjoy life (now that I took to heart. Perhaps a bit too much). He is a strong, wise and hilarious man who I am fortunate enough to call Dad. Or wodlops, if you're a Patch.
Then there is Gary, my father-in-law. A solid man, genuine and true. He is selfless and giving and sarcastic, which is one of the many reasons why I love him. He is patient with me (like when he has to keep reminding me how to drive the 4-wheeler) and has come to my rescue more than once (he came over and killed a spider in my family room that was the size of the Pacific). Most importantly? He raised a stellar son named Cody.
My sweet, handsome husband. I love that man. He also makes me crazy, furious, and there's no one else on Earth I'd rather have. He takes care of me and loves me (because I make him crazy and furious, too. Hard to believe, I know), I mean - the man built me a kitchen. We eat cookie dough together, we watch silly shows together, I tell him everything, he makes me laugh harder than anyone and comes to see every one of my plays. We couldn't be more different but we are so perfect for each other. He is the best Dad to our three little boys who look up to him and want to be just like him. I've said before that parenting isn't scary because I get to it with him. Well...that's a lie. I think parenting just IS scary. I mean, do any of us know what we're doing? But it's a scary thing we get to do together, and there's nobody else who I'd rather do that with.