...to my heart-throb, the man who makes my dreams come true.
I'm blessed to spend my life with you and watch you as a daddy. I always knew you'd be amazing at it, but never knew how fulfilling it would be to have a front row seat.
This summer especially, I sometimes feel like I have a glimpse into what you were when you were Cruz's age. That confidence and independence, charming, but mischievous grin, surfer boy hair and tan skin, and sweet, but oh-so-devilish flash in your eye have lived on in your son, and I am lucky to get to fall in love with all of it again. I was hopelessly swooning when I met you, and am feeling the same way all over again.
Your playfulness and tenderness, calm assurance and patience is inspiring to me, and makes me want to be a better mama. I love watching the two of you interact, whether it's chasing after a soccer ball with your shirts off, sleeping forehead to forehead in the morning while I get ready, or walking hand-in-hand to get the mail after work, I melt watching the two of you together. You are Mumford and Sons at bath time, 'Fire and Rain' at bedtime, lyrics on the fridge that you think I might like, and the key to Cruz and I's heart.
Happy Father's Day, babe.
And Happy Father's Day to all the hard-working daddies out there. Wishing you perfectly grilled steaks, an icy cold brew, and some well-deserved time to put your feet up.