TBH, my weekend, it sucked.

TBH, my weekend, it sucked.

Saturday morning began with me twiddling my thumbs, waiting for our adorable 3-year-old to rise from her slumber.

And boy, did she take their sweet time—didn't pop up until a glorious 10 a.m.

The rest of the day? A whirlwind of backbreaking yard work. Picture me hauling rocks, moving an ancient fence I dismantled, and triumphantly assembling a brand-new trampoline.

But instead of basking in the results by going on a tranquil hike or some well-deserved relaxation, our eldest fell ill faster than a bowling ball in a kiddie pool. Poor kiddo.

When we finally got the kids to bed and thought we could savor a moment of husband-and-wife time, our son woke up, and the next two hours were a chaotic symphony of puking.

And the icing on the cake, my early morning fishing plans...dashed.

Courtesy of my son's heroic performance of vomiting and, uh, other unmentionables.

And our other two bundles of joy decided to treat us to a chorus of "wake ups" throughout the night (a blowout diaper and several "I'm scared").

But you know what? Looking back on it, I realize something. This rollercoaster of a weekend reminded me of the true essence of being called "Dad."

🧡 We care.

🛠 We build.

💥 We provide.

💪 We summon our strength.

You know what? Scratch that my weekend didn't suck. In fact, it was pretty darn incredible.

Sure, I didn't get to do what I had planned, but I got to fully embrace the magnificent role of a dad—the sleepless nights, the unexpected messes, the comforting whispers in the dark.

It's a true testament to the power of fatherhood.

So, maybe your weekend wasn't all rainbows and unicorns either, but I have a hunch that amidst the chaos, you shone brilliantly as a dad.

Let's celebrate the journey of fatherhood together!

P.S. Pic of my two bundles of joy I devoted extra attention to this weekend.