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There are some days when being a parent feels like the hardest job on earth. Your kids fight over finger puppets, a little tangled hair leads to a major meltdown and if the milk’s not in the purple cup, you’re just not going to win.  You end the day defeated, depleted and emotionally wiped, with a headache that makes you wonder if your left eye is caving in.  Today was one of those days.  When the kids crashed on the way home from my mother-in-law’s tonight, the minivan hummed with the sweetest silence and my eyes started to leak as I thought about my dad.  He’s managed my meltdowns for many years, and I have never really thanked him for that.

My dad somehow found a way to raise four happy kids and make it look easy.  Tonight, as I wondered where he learned to do that, I decided that someone must have set a good example in his life.  It’s a gift to inherit a little parental patience from your first teachers, but it’s oh-so-hard to keep your cool when you’re tested, isn’t it?  Thanks, Dad, for lighting the way and Happy Father’s Day, Liz