When I started dating my now hubby, I could tell he was going to make a great dad. I don’t know exactly what the clues were way back then. Maybe it was because he was so happy and sometimes silly around me. If you can be silly with your girlfriend you surely can with your own kids. He was kind and attentive. He told me he wanted to be a dad. That was a very good sign. He was and still is a great dad, sixteen years running.

Precious cargo.

In the beginning, it took some training. Before leaving the hospital with our first baby, we had to prove we had a car carrier for our baby. I couldn’t get around very well; C-sections have that effect on moms. So hubby packed up our bundle and came to get me. I laughed so hard when I saw our baby swaddled up so tight; I had to hold a pillow to my tummy to avoid busting any stitches. We could have shipped our precious cargo around the world a zillion times in that car seat. The buckle went OVER the blanket instead of laying the blankets over the buckle. There wasn’t a chance in heck that baby would fly out of the seat, packed like a sardine instead of baby. Our little guy wasn’t crying so I guess it was all right, this one time.

At 6 mos. He tried.

Once we were home, that baby went everywhere with dad. It was as if hubby was making up for the nine-month shift I endured. The two rewired a phone jack, a screwdriver in one hand and a baby in the other. They gazed into each other’s eyes. They took naps together, a lot of naps. As I got stronger, hubby figured the baby was covered. He tried to do his own thing like the old days, before baby. This lasted about 2 minutes. We had to chat about how we are both the parents and this is a team effort, etc. We agreed no ditching the other parent to do your own thing without checking first. We never looked back after that peaceful negotiation.

Napping.

Repair.

Napping.

Goo-Goo Eyes.

It was a little rocky when the second one came along. I don’t think he ever mastered managing a newborn and a two-year-old at the same time. It was survival mode for both of us. Hence, no photo ops of dad and the second one napping, repairing something or making goo-goo eyes. As the boys grew, he took them to car shows, always coming home with a model Mini Cooper or Humvee. He took them to authentic Mexican at the Mexican markets. He took them to Home Depot to sit on the tractor mowers—this could take hours. He started driving them into the City with him for haircuts. They stopped at the corner market on Chestnut and Pierce to get chips. The boys sit in chairs in the waiting area of the salon, crunching on chips while dad got his hair clipped. Then they went to Dim Sum at a place they call “Get Lost Dim Sum” because they got lost finding the place. I tried to go once, and the boys panicked. This was THEIR thing.

So satisfying.

He teaches the boys how to cook. My hubby loves to make Asian dishes that take a lot of prep. He has the boys help cut up the bamboo shoots, water chestnuts, really anything. He’s a perfectionist so he’s always watching technique so no fingers are lost in the dish. He can’t watch me with a knife or he goes out of his skin. Our poor boys can’t argue so they learn the proper way to slice and dice. The best job, smashing crab shells to make it more pleasant and less work at the dinner table. What boy, big or small, doesn’t like to crush things with a hammer?

With our first driver, dad takes him anywhere without fear. He’s been on the highway, through the tunnel and over the Bay Bridge into the City. He’s parallel parked a bunch. Hubby let him drive us across the San Rafael Bridge to get to Mt. Tam for our Mother’s Day hike, up the windy, steep hills you see in car commercials. I happily sit in the back, where I can’t see what could happen. Hearing about near misses is scary enough, Dad quick to reprimand. It’s tough to drive for an engineer-minded, perfectionist dad. There’s a reason I don’t drive when it’s just the two of us. I can tell you where to send your kid to get advanced lessons with strict, strict standards. Hint: He lives at my house.

Hubby is first-rate at teaching the boys about money matters. The guys are savvy Internet shoppers but they need our credit card to buy anything. Dad makes the boys pay him in cash so they see exactly how much something really costs. I owed my younger son a couple of months of allowance. He demanded payment so he could pay Dad. I laughed because it’s all the same pot. Nope. My son stood his ground. “Dad SAYS he wants CASH!”

Whatever instincts I had about my guy being a good dad are spot on in my book. He’s making all kinds of memories with the boys even if he works a ton. His dad worked a lot too but hubby remembers the special times. His dad took him to Burger King for lunch during school hours. His dad let the family sit on the roof of the car at the drive-in movies. No wonder hubby is such a great dad. He had a topnotch mentor, something I couldn’t see but sensed when I met him. I have a pretty strong feeling my boys will turn out the same way; I hope I’m right.

Happy Father’s Day!