Daddy, I hope you miss me, too.

Note:  I wrote this back in August and am just getting around to putting it on my blog.  Appropriate, because I'm missing him a lot today.  If you want humor, you should go here or here.

What was an innocent browsing of Disney videos on Youtube is turning into a complete and utter meltdown. This one has a sweet little look at Disney dads and it made me realize -- I'm not ready to stop being Daddy's little girl just yet. Granted, most of it is the song -- but now I'm just bawling my eyes out for no real reason, just missing those days of cuddling up to my daddy on those bad days when I needed nothing more than a hug and to know that everything will be okay. The days I threw tantrums and cried desperately in my room, certain the world was against me, only to be laughing an hour later after daddy came home with ice cream and a lecture that should have just made me feel bad, but instead just made me realize how stupid I was being. The days I couldn't handle growing up and daddy let me be a little kid, just for a while.

And just all the little things.

• Getting yelled at in the restaurant because I'm too old to be blowing bubbles into my drink.
• The sighs when I tore apart my Subway sandwich because it was just "too much bread."
• The grudging "I love you, too" after I did something exceptionally terrible, like slipped one too many things into the shopping cart.
• The rolling of eyes, sighing, well-intentioned but ultimately failed attempts to ignore me, and eventually the giving in because I couldn't go another day without a new book so help me God or I'll pester you the rest of this week until you give in later so do us both a favor and give in now.
• The annoyed looks whenever I would interrupt his concentration just for a hug.
• The annoyance I'd feel when he'd do the same to me.
• The phone calls just to see how I'm doing.
• The random lunch dates, just because he misses having me around.

Daddy is my best friend, my adviser, the devil's advocate when I just want to bitch, the person I can go to with anything and not be judged, and even now if all I need is a hug, he'll sit there and hug me until I feel better.

Now, I'm married. I'm pregnant. And Daddy is still my daddy, who sighs when I'm being unreasonable, hugs me when I cry, and buys me ice cream just to make me feel better because I've had a hard day.

For the past week I've been stressing over budgets, paying off bills, and trying to figure out how we can get to a point where we don't have to rely on our parents anymore and can stand on our own two feet. I get angry and frustrated because life isn't working the way I want it to. And I forget just how amazingly blessed I am, because my mother and father never judged me. They support me. They are giving up their years free of children to help watch mine. They're spending money they don't have to make sure I'm eating right and that I'm happy. And above all, if I ever need them, they'll be here in a heartbeat.

Money can't compare to that. And I'm so, so thankful for what we do have. A wonderful family -- on both sides -- and a lot of love for each other and for this baby we're bringing into the world.

Daddy, Mommy -- I love you. And thank you. Even though I can't tell you any of this because you'd probably get nauseated and hurl.

And yes. I'm still crying. So I think I'm going to take a shower, maybe get some hot chocolate, and try to sleep so I can get up for work in the morning. I'll tell you what -- these introspective kicks are killer.