Wassup, Guys?

I don't really have a lot to say except that the "n" button on my keyboard is sticky and won't type until you've pressed it, like, ten million times. Ugh.
And what happened to my followers? I used to have 35, now 32? Geez, you guys are dropping like flies. Invite your friends, peeps, if you think they'd be interested.
Oh, how do you all like the backround music? Steph's learning the cello part. We're all so proud.

And Kendra wanted a picture of Steph's eye? Here you go, they're grey, but you can't really tell in this picture. They kind of reflect any color put in front of them. In this case, blue.

Today is Father's Day, so I guess I could remanise on my father and the one that's filling in for the empty spot.
So...my dad. I would say he is doing a pretty sucky job. Like, I haven't seen him in years. Seven (almost eight) years, to be exact. It's kind of hard to imagine what a father could be like. I grew up with him never being there, having only the picture on the wall in my mom's room to remember him by. My mom really loved him, but I don't think he loved her back. They fought a lot when he came home, and he went to prison for physical assult charges for two years after I turned five. He drank a lot, was drunk all the time, carelessly spent money, all kinds of crap.
(This next part my mother told me this when I was nine and she explained the miricle of life (>_<)) : When my mom told him that she was pregnant with his baby (again), he'd yelled at her demanding why she was with another man while he was gone. He said there was no possible way that it was his. And then when my sister was born, he acted like a baby girl was the worst thing that had ever happened to him (being he was from somewhere in the middle east). I was the only reason he'd stayed when my mom had me, but now he was furious. He left the next morning after her birth and didn't come back for a year and a half. When he did he begged my mom for forgiveness so she'd take him back in again (probably because he was broke), which she did. He stayed for three and a half more years, coming and going as he pleased -- gone sometimes for months -- and then finally left again when I was seven. He never came back. My mom said that she'd kicked him out, but I think he really just went back to Israel, or wherever he came from. Two years later, my sister was diagnosed with cancer, and my mom couldn't pay medical or house bills anymore, so we went into foster care so that someone else -- someone more responsible -- could take care of us. I haven't seen my mom since then.
I was nine years old.
Now five years later, I have a great family that I'm staying with. A family that loves me and wants me.
Blake is a great dad. We go golfing and with Jenn we play football in the backyard. We sometimes go fishing in the pond behind our house and just talk about guy things. He's told me that he loves me, and he wishes that he'd had a son like me for a long time, and now he does. He says that he's proud of what I do with my music, my guitar, my voice. He likes my personality, and he thinks I'm a good guy for his daughter, just the guy that he'd hoped she'd have.
What I've learned is that my father, the biological one, wasn't my dad. Blake is what I've always yearned for, that sort of fatherly love. I couldn't ask for more.
Happy Father's Day, Blake. Thank you.
Your son,
Seth