Eric, my love,
You’re already a great dad. I love how you bend over and talk to Peeper with your mouth next to my belly. You don’t tease (too much) when cutting up the umpteenth slab of watermelon because it’s the only thing I can stomach. You get the nursery arranged in record time and help me roll over in bed.
Most of all, you’ve loved our Peeper from the time it was just a poppyseed. You believed in us, in our fitness to be parents—in the audacity of growing our family by one. This child already has a head start because of your love.
I can’t wait for both of us to meet our peanut. Will Peeper have your eyes or that perfect indentation next to your smile? Later, will he or she share your fearless daredevil spirit and rush to climb fences and dangle legs over the Grand Canyon, like you do? Will Peeper love all-night debates, philosophy and delving into histories of what came before? I’m pretty sure that by inheriting genes from each of us, Peeper will be a long-armed, flat-butted little monkey. No escaping that one.
I can’t imagine having a better partner in parenthood. Together, we’ll change diapers at 4 a.m. and bandage scraped knees and wait through tantrums about vegetables and read the same nursery rhymes until we can recite them by memory. Peeper will grow up holding both our hands. I can see our bambino standing between us, wobbly-legged but secure with our support.
So on this, your first (unofficial) Father’s Day, thank you for already being there for our family. We love you.
