Dear Papa Bear,
You always joke that you want to be a detached father, watching your heir from a distance until he is ready to inherit your kingdom. You joke around a lot and Mama Bear and I love that about you but the type of father you joke about as an aspiration can’t be farther from the truth.
Since the day I was born, with Mama Bear in too much pain and under too much medication after C-section, you had to care for me a lot. Remember when my bilirubin levels were too high and I had to get phototherapy and formula milk for two days and two nights? You had to take me out of that UV machine whenever I became hungry or too irritable. You had to put back my pacifier every time it fell out my mouth. Plus the machine was so annoying because an alarm sounded when its door was opened. Before we left the hospital, the nurses were saying the same thing about you that I want to say again now: You are the best dad ever.
Mama Bear’s recovery from my delivery was slow… largely due to her recurring biliary colic from a gallbladder which had to be taken out eventually. It must have been tough for you to coordinate care for me, sister cats and the house while worrying about Mama Bear’s health before, during and after her surgery.
Fast forward to a month ago when I started daycare. In one month, I already managed to get sick twice. You rarely used to get sick but because you couldn’t stand being away from me too long, I’d been passing my sickness on to you. I’m so sorry yet so grateful that you sacrifice your health to look after me.
Thanks for playing with me, for making me smile and laugh so much. For taking me to daycare and picking me up. For carrying me when my stroller/car seat is too uncomfortable/boring. For always stepping in to watch me when Mama Bear is sick, tired or working. I am 7 months and 4 days old now, and I am the luckiest baby in the world because you are my father.
Thanks for everything so far and still to come. I love you so much and Happy First Father’s Day since your baby popped out!!!