These boys have my heart. All three. I am so grateful for them even though they give me character lines between my eyebrows.
Our family has a history of writing each other poems as a way to celebrate occasions. I think it stems from not thinking ahead enough to gift shop. My Dad used to write poems to my Mom all the time. First when they were courting he would leave surprise poems for her on her car and it just became a thing from there. He also wrote poems to Wesley and I on certain holidays. He will be remembered for this practice. His special gift of bad poetry writing was passed on to both my sister and I, so Jed and Steve have each been on the receiving end of bad poem gifts. In truth a bad poem gift is pretty special. They mark time and provide “shoebox-style” memories. Below was Steve’s bad poem gift from me today plus still-wet glitter glue drawings from our kids that they created while Steve was having a sleep-in. The kids and I also worked together to make waffles. I even separated and beat the egg whites until they were firm, as per the directions. Usually I can’t be bothered and just use the entire egg, but today was a special day.
A poem for Stephen on his 7th Father’s Day:
Remember when you were kid free and had time to be bored with me?
Remember when you’d sleep in and it was relaxing to visit your kin?
Now your life is much more rad because you’re a Kiwi-American Dad!
There is no such thing as a rest but you’ve made 3 people’s lives the VERY BEST!
I You. Moon and Back, Steve Jenkinson!
XO
Kyla
