Daddy's Girl, what is it about those girls? The first time I really noticed it was when B-Boo was about a year old. She used to love her hair up in the foam rollers, dressed in a onesie…and cuddling with her daddy. I remember waking up once in the middle of the night, to find B-Boo and Daddy sitting in front of the TV, watching Beauty and the Beast, eating strawberries and whipped cream…and when it wasn't that, it was popcorn. And so it began.

Six years later, the Drama Queen came along. I'm not really sure when she became a Daddy's Girl, but I know it was there by the time she was four or five…and it was definitely there by the time she was six. We were at a doctor's appointment for a series of shots (that's another blog another time). It was a long appointment and we brought special coloring books and markers. The doctor came in and the Drama Queen made some comment about her Daddy. I think she was coloring a picture for him. Anyway, B-Boo had just turned 12 and was going through some stuff that only a mom can take care of. Days before, my husband had made a comment that she wasn't his little girl anymore and he was having a hard time with it. Anyway, the doctor made a comment that he had a 12 year old daughter and that all of a sudden she wasn't his little girl anymore. We had a laugh because his complaint was the same as my husband's! The good thing for my husband was that he had another Daddy's Girl to lean on!

She has a way of saying MY Daddy that lets you know he's hers. For fun sometimes, I'll say that he was MY husband before he was HER Daddy…that usually throws her for a loop!  Sometimes, it drives me nuts, this Daddy's thing. Heaven forbid something should happen to her while Daddy is away. It doesn't matter if I've taken care of it, the minute her Daddy is home, the drama starts all over again as she retells the story. She's a tough cookie, too, until she sees her Daddy; then the waterworks start.

We realized just how much a Daddy's Girl she was one day when I told her "no" to something. Her reply?

"I'll just go ask MY Daddy!"

That didn't turn out like she'd hoped!

As irritating as it gets sometimes, I'll have to admit, I'm glad he has that special relationship with her. I can only imagine how it feels to know that the minute he pulls up to the driveway, she'll come running out yelling, "Daddy!" There is not a day that goes by that she is not thrilled to have her Daddy home!

It's the same when he leaves in the morning. She'll get her hugs and kisses then run to the window, throw it open and yell good-bye to her Daddy until she can't see him anymore or someone tells her to hush cause they are trying to sleep!

Heaven forbid she should get into trouble during the day. She'll look up at me with those big puppy-dog eyes full of tears and beg me to please not tell her Daddy.

She can talk him into going down an inflatable water slide…over and over and over again!

She can also talk him into going to the park at just about any hour.

She can talk him into riding bikes around the block, no matter how tired he is.

She can talk him into watching "Game Plan" or "Parent Trap" for the 100th time. (Notice the theme?)

She can talk him into letting her put ponies in what is left of his hair.

She can talk him into letting her cook scrambled eggs with him, even though she's allergic. (She'll wear gloves, Daddy!)

She can talk him making her popcorn at the drop of a hat!

She can talk him into playing with her, even when he's in a cast and can't walk!

But she'll also love on him.

She'll hug him and cuddle with him.

She'll rub his head when he has a headache.

She'll walk on his back when it hurts.

She'll go with him to the store anytime, and work with him in the yard.

The Drama Queen has a birthday party tomorrow. It's been a long day and I'm trying to get over this stomach bug. I realized about eight pm that we'd neglected to get a birthday gift. She responded that she'd find one of her special toys to give to her friend. I told her that was sweet, but I'd take her to go get a gift after I got the kids to bed. A few minutes later, she walked over to let me know that her Daddy was going to take her to get a gift.

Her friend doesn't realize how lucky she is. If I'd have taken her, it would have been a simpler, yet nice gift, with a simple purple gift bag and tissue. But Daddy took her. She came back with a gift bag full of cupcakes that came with stickers for decorating. She had a glitter card. She had star tissue paper. She even had a glittery bow to go with it! They also got a couple pretty cool gifts to go with it.

I didn't really think about the cost; I figure it was worth it, having that Daddy moment.

I think every Daddy needs a Daddy's Girl, don't you?

I was talking to my mom yesterday and she was telling me about a package that was delivered to Dad; for Father's Day. And it dawned on me, that for the first time, I'd let it slip that it was even Father's Day at all. No gift was sent, and I felt terrible. I'm sorry, Dad, I really am.

It dawned on me, that I am so consumed with all that is going on with my life, that me, Miss Organization, can't even remember what today is, let alone what is going on tomorrow. I have a calendar that is so full, it is color coded. You'd probably cry if you looked at it; I know sometimes I want to. There really isn't anything that can be taken off, it just is what it is. It is mostly filled up with doctor and counseling appointments. I've told my family that if it is not in writing on my calendar, it does not exist. Sometimes I feel like I need a t-shirt that says, "I'm a stay-at-home mom, and I have no life."

I don't really feel that way most of the time. I love my family. I love my children. I love my niece and nephew. But these days I find my brain disappearing and being replaced with slush. Last night, I was on the phone with my husband and told him that I was going to pick up our son. In the same conversation, I reminded my husband that my son needed his meds. My daughter looked at me like I was crazy and my husband started laughing at me…because I had just said I was going to pick him up; which meant he could not be home with my husband. And so now; I've forgotten a special day. And I'm all about special days. I love them; ask anyone who knows me and they'll tell you that I, Hope Vivas, am all about a reason to celebrate anything.

And I forgot my dad. And I feel terrible. He doesn't deserve that.

And then, I started thinking about Dad. And I couldn't stop. I thought, maybe, just maybe, he'd like to know what I really think about him. So, the rest of this blog is for my dad, because I love him so much. Dad, you probably have no idea how much I really adore you. I do.

One of my best memories is you taking us camping; every where, all the time. I loved going camping! I loved the soft ball games, and the campfires, and the roasted marshmallows. I loved it when you hid behind a tree and would growl like a bear. We knew it was you, but it still scared us anyway. And we loved that we were scared by your growling!

I love that you never ever made us feel like we wanted for anything. I can't remember a time of really wanting anything or being told no. We wanted to live in the country, we lived in the county. We wanted horses, we got them. Dirt bikes; we got them. There was never a want, because you worked so hard to provide our every dream to us. There were never any mansions, but that was ok, because you gave so much, we didn't need to dream of something bigger or better.

We lived a pretty simple life, but it was a wonderful life. Do you know what my favorite memory of you is? It is when we were playing in the snow on the round saucers. You and I went roaring down a hill lickety split! We went down so fast that we crashed into the bank. Up into the air we went flying, with you landing in the street and me on top of you. And we laughed so hard. I think of that often. That is how I always want to remember you; laughing, because you were happy to be spending time with me.

I remember hiking through the snow to chop down our own Christmas tree.

I remember standing around the stove in the early mornings in Colorado trying to stay warm.

I remember Mustard. How many parents would take care of a baby deer? I realize mom did the taking care part, but you could have said no way. You didn't. Art is like that. Poor man never knows what he may come home to. (I inherited that from mom, I guess.)

I remember the frogs in Oregon and the slugs. And how you used to pour salt. UGH.

And the lizards and the ice. My kids love it when you do that.

I remember the Mussels on a cold Oregon beach.

We have so many childhood memories, because you insisted on doing things together as a family. Sometimes that meant the family was attacked by a hive of bees, but hey, at least we were together! And the slide rocks; now a national park…but I can fondly remember the time when it was au natural…and the fun we had.

Mesa Verde, Yosemite, Yellowstone, Beaches…so many memories.

I remember catching the sucker fish on that cliff…I think it was in Oregon. You had double hooked my line. I was so excited to catch a fish and I could barely pull it in. You helped, and when we finally got it within sight, it was two huge sucker fish! What a day!

It was you that taught me the value of a simple photograph.

I remember that it was you who picked me up and carried me out to the car the night I lost my daughter.

It was you who carried me to the truck and rushed me to the hospital a few years later when I popped my stitches while camping.

It was you who begged me not to have anymore children, but to please adopt if we still wanted more.

I know you've paced and fretted and worried over me over the years. I know you love me.

And you've passed on great things to my children. Jonathan is so excited, because he thinks he's old enough to finally be able for Grandpa to teach him how to drive the Bobcat. He knows that's your tradition and he wants his turn.

You've given my children Yellowstone, fishing, camping, roasted marshmallows and growling bears behind a tree. You've given them the lizards and snakes and a love of nature.

You've given us all so much. I fretted  because I didn't purchase a gift for you. And then I realized, maybe, just maybe, the best gift I could give you is to really let you know how much you mean to me, to my family, to our family. Because I don't think I've told you enough how much I really love you and look up to you. I'm not sure you realize just how great of a dad or a grandpa you are.

You are the best. You are number one in my book. And you have left and are still leaving a legacy of your self that will always be remembered.

This is my favorite picture of my dad.
Why? Because it shows how much he loves his family and wants to capture every moment with them.