My Sweet Little Girl

My little girl turns five today.  And that's messing me up a little.  I do not know where the time has gone.  I know every parent says that.  I know every parent means it too.  But, I mean... wow.  I don't just mean it.  I feel it.

I'm pretty good with her up until about three.  Then, somehow, these last two years happened.  They happened with a velocity that will leave blur marks on the timeline of my life.  It makes me uncomfortable when I make myself think about it.

She is the third of my four children.  Even that sounds scary sometimes.  She's my only girl, so there will always be an innate specialness that comes with that.

She (back before I knew she was a she) was the first and only child whose gender I had prayed about.  The day my wife told me she was pregnant again I began praying for a girl.  I'm not entirely sure why.  I knew I had always wanted sons and daughters.  I guess part of me knew that this one was going to be a little girl.

I wrote about it in my journal back when I used to keep one.  It's been one of the few things in life that I just kind of knew.  God answered my prayers one morning as I was writing.  That confirmation was so assuring.  I didn't tell anyone though.  I was too scared to really write it.  It was just between me and God.

When we went for the check-up to find out the gender, I already knew what the report would be.  The thing is, I can't tell you how reassuring it was to hear it out loud from another person.

I remember the tingly feeling in my palms as I watched the ultrasound tech preparing the machine.  My anticipation grew as she put the blue ultrasound gel on Nell's body.  I could hardly stand it, when she finally asked us if we wanted to find out what we were having.  I'm not sure if I was more joyful about "officially" knowing I was having a daughter, or seeing one more example of God's faithfulness in my life.

Happy birthday, Selah!  I waited so patiently and faithfully for you.  I'm thankful you're such a sweet little girl.  My sweet little girl.

A Nice Little Cuff

The crisp bite of Aqua-Velva always smelled good to me when I was a kid. I can remember my dad putting it on after his shower before he would go to work.  Sometimes I would sneak a little bit out of the bottle when I went to the bathroom.  I liked smelling like my dad.  He worked a shipping dock in the evening loading and unloading trucks.  I don't think he liked that job very much.

After he was dressed, he would come and sit on the couch and talk to us while he put on his socks and shoes. They were cheap, white Spalding sneakers from Walmart.  But I didn't care.  I wanted a pair just like them.  I loved those shoes because I loved my dad.  He always wore shorts to work since it got so hot on those loading docks.  I don't think he liked that job very much.  He would turn his tube socks down to make a nice little cuff.  I used to wear my socks the same way.

He would fix some supper for my brother, sister and me before he left.  It was often macaroni & cheese and these little chicken fried steak patties.  My dad used to make the best macaroni and cheese.  It came out of this generic white box whose bold black letters told the world it was simply Macaroni and Cheese.  My dad didn't make a lot money.  I don't think he liked that job very much.  But I sure did like that macaroni and cheese he made for us.  I make it for my own kids now.

*     *     *

I really don't think my dad liked that job very much.  But he did it anyway.  Maybe he disliked having cheap aftershave and sneakers too.  But he had them anyway.  Maybe he couldn't stand that he had to make the generic macaroni and cheese.  Be he made it anyway.  And he did part of it for us. 

So often I get caught up in the things of life.  I worry about the tangibles instead of the intangibles.  I worry too much about the stuff and too little about the people. 

I loved my dad because of who he was, and not because of what he had.  When I was young, I just wanted him.  I need to remember my kids are the same way.  It's easy to give things.  It's a lot harder to give yourself.

My Daddy Can't Whip Your Daddy

I wrote a post for the Teacher-Dad blog.  It's about fear, fathering, and sports.

You can read it by following the link:
My Daddy Can't Whip Your Daddy

The Donut

I can almost taste the sweet, gooey goodness of a warm, freshly made donut from McAllister’s Bakery.  The building’s shoddy facade and dimly lit interior were poor predictors of the blissful delicacies contained within.  The bakery was only a few blocks from the house I lived in when I was twelve.  My brother and I would walk down there on Saturday mornings to get breakfast for us and my mom and sister.  It made me feel grown -up and helpful at the same time.

I still remember pointing my chubby fingers and smudging the glass display cases as I ordered.  There was something about a donut back then.  They could melt away the troubles of a husky and  awkward pre -teen boy.  They could bring all of us together, if only for a few minutes, to enjoy something as a family.  They were able to lift our spirits, and make everything better for a little while.  It was a fond ritual that I looked forward to while we lived there.

Flash forward eighteen years.  My four year old daughter was giving me grief this morning about going to her last day of preschool this week.  The pouty lower lip, the crossed arms, the Jell-O legs.  It was all there.  A full on fit was imminent.  At the request of my wife, I did what any self -respecting parent would do.  I bribed her.

“How about we stop for a donut on the way to school?”
“A pink one?”
“Sure.”
“Yeeeeeaaaaaaaahhh!”

As she bit into a lump of lard and sugar with pink sprinkles, I saw her four year old stress and troubles fade away.  The ability of a child to live in the moment is breathtaking.  For next few moments in the car, my little girl was truly without a care in the world.


*        *        *

Donuts don’t really have that effect on me anymore.  Since I’m officially an adult, it is my business to over complicate things; to find all the “whys” instead of the “why nots.”  The panacea a fried ring of batter and sugar once had no longer has the appeal it used to.  I’m not totally sure why.

Adult me is always concerned about what’s next, whatever that may be.  It’s often hard to keep my mind on the here and now.  Maybe that’s the key to the donut experience.  It’s a place holder to anchor me to a moment of time right now.  It’s a simple reminder that, at twelve, four, or thirty years old,  life can still be lived in the fading moments right in front of my eyes.

Maybe I’ll get a donut for me the next time we stop.

Photo credit: Kevin Lawver

Dental Drills and the Illusion of Control

We took the kids to the dentist yesterday.  I don't like trips to the dentist.  I didn't like them as a kid, I don't like them as an adult, and I really don't like them as a parent.  There is just something about metal tools and someone's fingers crawling around in my mouth that freaks me out. 

The dentist office is the kind that has "Kid" in the title.  It is supposed to be kid -friendly, but the beige walls, dim lights, and contemporary furniture might lead you to believe otherwise.  It had a very hushed atmostphere. All the toys were neatly arranged in baskets around bookshelves topped with Feng Shui zen style decor.  It kind of reminded me of the typical old -school elementary library where you are not allowed to talk above a low whisper.

Taking the kids to the dentist is a lot like open heart surgery for your parenting. They open up your kid's mouth and tell you everything that's wrong with it. Which translates into what's wrong with you as a parent.  Cavities, infection, abscess, plaque, and your kids need to brush better.  Translation: your parenting sucks. Good parents don't have kids with cavities, right? 

Well, I guess I'm not a good parent then.  The dental report was not exactly encouraging.  It's hard to not feel guilty and responsible.  I want my kids to be healthy and strong.  But parenting is hard, and sometimes things slip through the cracks. This of course starts me on a train of thought that touches on every little deficit in how my wife and I are raising our kids.  The whole line of thinking ends up in an ugly and depressing place.  Frustrated, I ended up asking myself one question:

When did I lose control?

*     *     *

I was still a little flustered as I tucked the kids into bed.  You'd better believe those teeth got brushed, though.  And then some.  

Eli brought me our devotional book and wondered if we had enough time for a bible story.  It was already past bed time, but the emotional guilt was pretty much going to guarantee that we would read our devotional tonight.  Not the best motivation, I know.

I let the pages flip past my thumb until I arrived at the right one.  I began reading aloud that day's verse.  But, I had to stop halfway through.  The verse from Ephesians 2: 10 really got me-

For we are God's masterpiece.  He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.

Wow.  I am not in the regular habit of thinking of myself as God's masterpiece.  I definitely don't usually think about God planning long ago the good things I would do.  So then it really hits me.  The answer to my question:

I never really had control to begin with.  


And thank God for that.


Photo credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/ghirson/12557871/

Wonderful Distractions

I think about distraction.  I think about it a lot.  And I'm well aware of the irony in that.

I hate being as distractible as I am. Sometimes I can't remember what happened.  I mean what just happened.  Two hours of my life will go by, and I'm not sure where I was. Sometimes I can't remember what happened two minutes ago.

It's "rest time" as I sit here typing this.  I have several browser tabs open, my BlackBerry next to me, and I'm copying some photos to my computer.  I'm reading my Facebook feed, looking at text messages, editing a photo, and trying to write this post.   It's pretty silly, really.  I desperately want to get as much done as I can.  And I'm already distracted enough.  But, the most distracting things in my life right now can't be charged by a wall outlet.  At least I don't think they can.  They are not even things.  These wonderful distractions are my four amazing children.

Case in point- It takes 30 minutes to watch a 10 minute YouTube video during "rest time."  I click play and Eli walks in and wants a piece of paper.  Pause, paper, boom.  Thirty seconds later, Selah walks in and wants a sheet of paper too.  Pause, paper, slighly less boom.  Two minutes later, Selah is back in becuase Eli took her paper.  Pause, yell, what was I doing?  

45 seconds pass.  Zeke appears and wants to know if he can have a snack.  Pause, spout off random diatribe about heathly eating, and we're back.  And Selah's back too- to report that Eli took her other sheet of paper.  Pause, more yelling, back to video. 

A minute and a half pass of uninterrupted video.  I use the time to scroll back and re-watch the first 2 minutes of the video again becuase I forgot what I was watching.  I thought I was watching a music video, but there seems to be some white -haired scientist stuffing an iPad into a blender.  

Eli darts in and patiently waits for me to pause.  "Dad, guess what?"

"You gave Selah her paper back and now you are voluntarily washing the dishes?" 

"No, I need to go to the bathroom!"

"Wow, I forgot we even had one of those.  Thanks for updating me on the status of your bladder."

At this point, I just give up and go and respond to the screaming in the living room.  I have trained myself to work in 2 minute bursts.  That is about the maximum amout of time I'll get before I have to shift gears.  Watching a video has proven to be too much.

*     *     *

But they are my amazing children.  I want to give them the attention they deserve.  I need to.  

Zeke is forever wanting to show me something.  He's always making a new creation, doing an experiment, or wanting to look up something on Wikipedia.  He'll even knock on the door to talk when I'm in my other office (read: bathroom) filing paperwork.  Eli spends 96% of the day crying or complaining to me.  Selah is a little needy right now.  She just can't reach everything she wants.  And Titus. . . Well I have big plans for Titus.  We are not going to mess him up.  There is always something going on in my house.  It's usually pretty amazing too if I can focus on it for long enough.

What else would I being doing while I'm pushing a kid on a swing and holding a baby as I play three -way catch and lecture everyone on the benefits of staying away from fresh dog poo?

Photo credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/hawee/3599320521/

This article on the NY Times almost sent me over the top: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/06/07/technology/07brain.html?_r=1&partner=rs...

Posted via email from /A Divided Muse/

Words, Turds, and Things That Were Said

"As far as anyone knows, we're a nice normal family." -Homer Simpson

Communication is so important to family life. It is one of the fundamental pieces of a healthy and loving home. With that being said, here are a few choice snippets that have been overhead at my house recently. If you know my family personally, then have fun trying to figure out who said what to whom.

"Dad, it's like it's farting."

"Dangit, Eli. That's gross! We wear underwear in this family."

"When me and Zeke grow up, we want to be in a band."

"Oops. I spilled, but that's okay."

"My booty is stuck."

"These are skinney jeans. See how they start up big at the top and then get smaller down here?"

"I just don't think it's very responsible to throw everything away."

"No, do not touch your butt."

"It's funny that the beer commercial made him laugh."

"What, you ate all of them?"

"Can you clip this cape on me?"

"I'm putting these in front of me, like they do in the movies."

"I love you!"

"Hey hey, listen to your heart now. Hey hey, don't you feel the rush."

"There's poop coming out."

"I love butt cracks."

I'm trying to fart!

"Snow White is white. And she's yellow too."

"I want to give him a kiss."

"I love you."

"Bahye, bahye. Did you hear hime say bye bye?"

"Pull your underwear down. What are you doing? That's disgusting!"

"I've been ripping plastic for years."

"Did you hear that music? I was just doing some break dancing."

"Can you tuck us in?"

"I love you guys."

Zeke On Food

One of the most rewarding things about raising children is the conversations you get to have with them. Some may be sad, some funny, and others priceless. Here is a conversation between my son, Zeke, and I on the way home today:

Zeke: What are we having for supper?

Me: Mommy is making broccoli and rice.

Zeke: (with the aid of younger brother, Eli) Uhhhhggggg! Whyyyyyyy? Ooohh? (Ad nauseam)

Me: Well, it's what we are having. You can eat it, or not.

Zeke: I just don't understand why you and mommy are trying to CHANGE my life. (With upturned palms, he shook his hands dramatically.) I will not eat this way when I'm a grown up.

Me: (wryly smiling to myself and expecting this to be beyond good) Oh. Well then, what will you eat when you are a grown up?

Zeke: First of all, I am only going to have a home cooked meal twice a week. Maybe once. Probably once. We will just get food from places. Japanese food is always a good choice. I will pick up some fast food for my family if we don't have any other plans.

On Sunday nights I will order pizza. ORDER it, dad. I am not eating the home cooked kind from the oven. (His concept of home cooked pizza is DiGiorno's, by the way.) The kind YOU (emphasis his) make only has eight slices, and we have six people in our family. The kind you order has more pieces than that. I will get some bread sticks with garlic and maybe a two liter. Probably a two liter.

Then we can just go out to eat sometimes. It's just that I don't like the word "healthy." (The dramatic hand shaking returns.) And I don't know why you and mommy are feeding us this. My plan for right now, when I'm a kid, is to start bringing a bigger lunch so I can get full before supper. I'll call it "Bigger Lunch."

Me: (I think to myself, "What can you say to a tirade like that?")

Eli: Can we stop at Taco Bueno now?

Photo Credit:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/katiew/ / CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

"Would you like a side of guilt with that?"

Photo Credit

No, this isn't going to be about a new year's resolution to lose weight. Although I did manage to put on about five pounds since Thanksgiving, so that's probably not a bad idea. This is about a different kind of guilt- parental guilt.

Each time my family steps foot into the Golden Arches, I can't help but feel a twinge of remorse. We have gotten into the nasty habit of allowing McDonald's to be our meal. I say allow, because it is not always the plan to go there. Eating out was kind of a thing when I was growing up. It was a semi- special event that we often planned on. We would all load up, go somewhere, and sit down to a decent meal.

Now, eating out is a by-product of a a busy life. Fast food happens when we are running late picking up the kids from day care, or have somewhere to go in the evening. The kids sometimes get three Happy Meals a week during our busiest times. Those things can't be that good for you.

In addition to all the unhealthiness, I guess that a Happy Meal, for me, is a symbol for a hectic life. It represents the fact that it is hard to slow down and make time for certain things- important things like a family meal. It is hard to be a stop and smell the roses kind of guy in a go and weed the flower bed kind of world.

Big T and Me: Day 4

Big T was a little fussy this morning, but we both took an hour and a half nap on the couch. I spent the rest of the morning watching Law & Order: Criminal Intent reruns while pacing the bedroom with him on my shoulder. I'm really glad I have no expectations for these weeks. I am taking care of Titus, that's all. I just have to keep telling my self this.

He had a nice afternoon nap, and then I dropped him off with Nell after school. Pa had the boys today, so I was able to grab an hour nap in the parking lot before I got Selah. It got a little hot in car and it was definitely not the best nap I've had, but I've been feeling so tired lately.

I had the three big kids for supper- fish sticks and macaroni. Don't worry, as I had several granola bars to supplement.

Titus did not want to go to sleep. I did the usual walking pattern with him on my shoulder until almost midnight when I finally put him down on his Boppy©, next to his mommy.

Whew.

Big T and Me: Day 3

This was the first day to have all four kids in the morning. I got everyone packed up and we headed out into the rain to load up in the car. I forgot I did not have the car seats arranged for everyone. Okay, no problem. I told them to wait on the porch while I played a bad game of Tetris with the bags, gear, and seats. Five minutes later, a very grumpy and wet dad loaded everyone into the car.

Of course Eli was sad. He is in a perennial state of unhappiness right now. He is Eeyore stopping to complain to Oscar the Grouch at the corner of Dissatisfied and Unpleasant. Selah was not too happy with daddy dropping her off either. Oh well, at least Titus cried the whole way to Zeke's school. Turns out I missed some gourmet coffee in the lounge for Teacher Appreciation Week. Happy birthday to me.

My sister, Jamie, came over and spent most of the day with me and Big T. It was nice. We talked about school and made fun of the air conditioner guy and his over indulgence of cheap cologne. Good times.

She also helped me get a couple of birthday gifts for a student of mine. Titus seemed to enjoy Guitar Center despite the noticeable absence of pimply faced teens rehashing old Metallica riffs with way to much mid range scooped out. I really need to spend more time with my sister.

I missed out on a free Sonic drink for an afternoon treat at school. Oh well. I had Wendy's for lunch so I won't complain too much and Titus had a small afternoon nap. That was almost better than the three granola bars I had again today.

Big T and Me: Day 2

Today started with some spewing from the little guy. It was not the kind that leaves a little wet spot on your shoulder, this was the nasty kind that gets on the floor and all down your back. Definitely a shirt changer.

He was pretty fussy for most of the morning. I'm not sure why. He seems to cry if I am not holding him up on my shoulder, pounding his back, and actively walking around. No real nap. I had a toasted cheese sandwich with a glass of water for lunch. I brought him up to Nell's school for his feeding. She told me she ate Market Street ribs with sides and dessert because of Teacher Appreciation Week. Hmmm. Maybe this wasn't the best week to take off.

The afternoon was filled mostly with crying. I'm not sure what I am doing to the poor kid. I'm beginning to think he doesn't like me much. I dropped him off with Nell for the rest of the afternoon when I went to go pick up Zeke. I got a call about 10 minutes later saying I forgot to buckle him into his carrier. Oops.

I also missed out on a free catered Mexican food lunch and some chicken strips at Chick Fil A. 3 granola bars later, and this is not my best day.

Big T and Me: Day 1

I am starting my two weeks at home with Titus. Big T and me. I wanted to write about our adventures at home together. We'll see how it goes. I am trying to have zero expectations as we get the week started. This is not a time for me to catch up on school work, have personal hobby time, or map out the next few months of my life. The only thing I am expecting to do is to enjoy my time taking care of my boy.

I got to have breakfast with Selah this morning. It was kind of nice to just be me and her. Well, the boys were five feet away screaming at each other in the living room, but it was just Selah and I at the table. Titus gave me a smile as I was getting him dressed. It was the big smile where you can see the little dimple on right cheek. That was some nice fuel to keep the morning moving. Zeke was a huge help taking care of his little bro' for ten minutes while I finished getting ready.

We had a bad trip to Wal-Mart. I guess that is redundant to say that you had a bad trip to Wal-Mart. Titus was not happy to be there. I can't blame him. Of course they were out of stock for a handful of items I needed. The cashier was unexpectedly helpful in loading up my cart for me while I held the crying boy. +1 for WM.

Nell came home for lunch, so that saved me a trip to bring him to her at school. He was pretty fussy for most of the afternoon. I did get a few things done on the computer while he napped. It is weird picking up Zeke from school. I guess this is what a parent feels like.

I ate four of those little Quaker granola bars today. They are just so tiny and good.

In Front and Behind

Only 1 more month until I will be the proud father of four! I remember the day Nell and I went to the doctor's office to find out the sex of our third child. We had been thinking and talking about the gender for a while. We were both ready to find out.

But it felt different for me because I was praying for a girl. I actually prayed for a girl. I had not done that with either of my other children. I could find the page for you in my prayer journal when I started praying. I really remember wanting a girl and hoping so badly that the Lord would bless us with one. I wanted to experience sons and daughters as a parent. I was so excited when the nurse told us we would be having a little girl.

Since then, I have been amazed at some of the differences I have seen in my sons, Zeke and Eli, and my daughter, Selah. First, I have noticed natural tendencies towards certain things. I feel that Nell and I are pretty neutral in what we allow our kids to play with. Even so, the boys naturally gravitate to swords, guns, noise, and anything with batteries. Selah goes for the dolls, puzzles, and books. Selah goes for anything pink; the boys will take anything as long as it is not pink. I guess I kind of expected that.

An unexpected difference, though, is that I love them in very different ways. I always thought parents were supposed to love their children the same. I thought that, as a dad, I was supposed to be fair and equal. It turns out that that is not even close to the case. Each child is different and needs their own unique love and affection.



I feel like I love my boys from behind them. I want them to step out and try things on their own. I want them to experience adventure and the unknown. I am standing right behind them. I will help them up when they fall from failures and I will cheer them on when they march from victories. I want them to experience pain, frustration, and hurt while knowing that I am right there to help. I want them to know that whatever they are fighting for or going through, that their dad is for them. They need to know that their dad believes they have what it takes. All they need to do is turn around and I'll be there. I'll always be there. Right behind them.



The love I have for Selah is in front of her. I want her to know that I will always be there to hold her hand and lead the way. She never has to step out in fear because her daddy is right in front of her making sure it's okay. I want to protect her from everyone and anything that would try to hurt her, cause her pain, or dare make her feel unlovely. I'll take the pain and the hurt for her. I want to make sure she is nurtured and comforted. She needs to know that her daddy thinks she is beautiful and wonderful. All she has to do is look up and I'll be there. I'll always be there. Right in front of her.

Thank you Lord for the opportunity to love in front and behind.

(Photos taken and edited by my lovely wife, Nell)

Isims

I studied language development in college as part of my training to become a teacher. It is really quite fascinating. There are all kinds of stages, and developmental windows. I got to learn all about schema and how children assimilate new words into their vocabulary.



What I did not learn was how funny this process can be. The trial and error of learning new words is definitely entertaining. Some pronunciations take weeks or even months to nail down.

Here is a list of the funnier "isims" that the kids have come up with over the years:

faf⋅fle (fof-uhl) n. batter cake with a pattern of deep indentations on each side, traditionally comes frozen in boxes of 24. [I want a faffle for breakfast]

mes⋅i⋅nine (mes-uh-nin) n. any substance or substances used in treating disease or illness; remedy, usually forced down the throat via a plastic syringe and 3 adults holding the child down. [I don’t want to take my mesinine]

re⋅mem⋅ber⋅rize (re-mem-buh-rahyz) v. to commit to memory; learn by heart, to repeat something out loud over and over until a parent says “Stop!” [You should rememberize your phone number]

yo⋅grit (yo-grit) n. a prepared food having the consistency of custard, made from milk curdled by the action of cultures, usually served in a tube with colorful cartoon characters and ridiculous flavors. [We need yogrit at the store]

pup (puhp) n. a small, open container made of plastic, glass, etc., usually having a handle and possible sippy spout, used as a receptacle from which to spill milk, juice, wa-wa, etc. [That’s my pup]

pants⋅na⋅ked (pants-ney-kid) adj. being without clothing or covering below the waist, resulting condition of an aborted diaper change. [Now Selah is pantsnaked]

vi⋅ma⋅nin (vi-muh-nin) n. Any of various organic compounds that are needed in small amounts for normal growth and activity of the body; usually dispensed in a bottle with colorful cartoon characters and ridiculous flavors. [Your vimanin is by your faffle]

in⋅ap⋅pro⋅cri⋅ate (in-uh-proh-cree-it) adj. not appropriate; not proper or suitable. [That TV show is inapprocriate]

hook (hŏŏk) n. a soft or flexible covering for the head and neck attached to a cloak, coat, or the like. Note: this will be universally pulled off until the child is approximately 2 years and 2 months of age. [It’s cold out, put on your hook]

re⋅ver⋅sa⋅ry (ri-vur-suh-ree) n. the yearly recurrence of the date of a past event esp. a wedding. [No, we are not having McDonald’s for mommy and daddy’s reversary]

res⋅trau⋅naut (res-truh-nawt) n. establishment where meals are served to customers; exclusively refers to McDonalds or Taco Bueno. [Let’s go to a restraunaut for supper]

glub (gluhb) pl. glubs n. a covering for the hand made with a separate sheath for each finger and for the thumb; Note: attempting to put on children will cause a paradox in the space-time continuum due to its antithetical nature and high improbability of success. [Hold still so I can put on your gulbs]

mee⋅no (mee-noh) n. 1. mildly acidic red or yellow pulpy fruit grown on a vine and eaten as a vegetable. 2. an opening in the wall of a building, the side of a vehicle, etc., for the admission of air or light, or both. [Don’t throw your meeno out the meeno]

gook (gŏŏk) v. to turn one's eyes toward something or in some direction in order to see, usually repeated out loud over and over again until a parent says “What!” [gook!, gook!, gook!, gook!, GOOK!]

prac⋅ti⋅cal a⋅dult (prak-ti-kuhl uh-duhlt) n. being such in practice or effect of a person who has attained the age of maturity in function not age; one who desires the freedoms of an adult without the responsibilities. [Zeke refers to himself as a practical adult]

Right In The Ukelele

As a dad, it is so much fun having boys. It's great to run around and wrestle with them. They love to see how hard they can punch me. And they always want to show me how fast they are. I love it.

One of the best things, however, are the laughs we get to have. There is a level of immaturity in guys that is always present at some level. Being the father of two boys (and soon to be three) I feel it is my privilege, nay, obligation, to provide them with plenty of fodder for fart gags and crotch jokes. It just comes with the territory. One of our favorite pastimes is coming up with clever euphemisms for these hilarious things.

I accidentally-on purpose taught the boys a new one the other day. It has become a pretty popular saying around our house lately. I did not realize quite how ingrained in our vocabulary it had become until I showed the boys this recent picture. Of course the first words out of their mouths were-

"Ow, right in the ukelele!"

You are looking at one proud dad.

Santa Claus is Dead

There, I said it. I feel like I can say that without too much reprisal since Christmas is over. I don't mean it to sound harsh, but it's true. He has been dead for over 1500 years. There is a very nice and short article over at Pastor Mark Driscoll's blog that is a great read.

Nell and I decided back when Zeke was a baby that we were just going to be up front about Santa. We have always told our kids about St. Nicholas and why he became famous. We just don't tell them that he lives at the North Pole, flies a magical sleigh, and slides down our chimney to enjoy milk & cookies. I know some people think we are monsters for corrupting the youth of our children. I'm okay with that. But I just don't get it. Most parents would not tell their kids Scooby Doo, or the Ninja Turtles or Batman is real. Well, Batman is real...

Now that being said, we do enjoy Santa. We have Santa decorations up, sing Santa songs, and watch Santa movies. In fact, Nell and I both grew up with Santa when we were little and somehow we miraculously turned out okay. I never look down my nose at any family who "does" Santa. It's all fine and dandy, it's just not for us.

I love the last sentence in Driscoll's blog post-

"...we keep the center of Christmas focused on Jesus; it’s probably what Nicholas would have wanted"

Now, if you'll excuse me, Batman is going to be signing autographs down at the mall in a few hours.

About 14 weeks

The newest baby Stortz will be here in about 14 weeks. I know most pregnancies usually time track with how far along they are, and not how far they have to go. But, for the sake of my wonderful wife, I am trying to keep it positive and it sounds better to say 14 weeks left, than 26 weeks along. Hmmm. 14 weeks is still a long time when you are pregnant. Maybe 26 weeks along does sound better... anyway.

We had our second ultrasound on Monday. The first ultrasound a few weeks ago revealed some cysts in the baby's brain that needed to be checked out further. It sounded very serious, but they assured us that is was probably nothing to worry about. And, thank you Lord, the second ultrasound proved that to be true. Everything looks healthy and on track.

We also decided to find out the baby's gender, albeit a little reluctantly for me. I thought it would be a fun surprise to not find out. It turns out I am a glaring minority on this one. Apparently there are clothes to get, accessories to buy, and rooms to plan. Not a big deal, though. We were having such a hard time picking out a name that it was nice to narrow it down a bit. We are expecting a boy and settling into the name Titus.

It was a lot of fun getting to tell the other kids. Zeke has been spot on about his brother and sister and his new brother was no exception. He knew it was going to be a boy and was not surprised. Selah's a bit confused and still seems to think that there is a baby growing in her tummy. But Eli wins the prize for best quote. When asked "What if the new baby is a girl?" He responds-

"If it's a girl, I quit!"

God bless that honesty.

Two Pizzas?? (Can that be right?)

Somewhere along the lines, my family got big. It seems silly but I just realized it tonight. We have always been a 1 pizza family. It's a staple on the Wal-Mart list. I don't even have to write it down. I just pick up a frozen pizza every time I go grocery shopping. Now I am going to have to pick up two.

We had pizza tonight for supper and 1 just didn't make it. When dad is cooking, the meals are always a little sketchy but usually plentiful. Not tonight. The Red Baron did not quite make his destination. I guess 5 people eating 1 pizza does sound a little chinchy. With 3 kids feeding from the trough, I guess I'm going to have to start buying a little more. Now when kid number 4 gets here... it might be time for dear old dad to learn something about side dishes.

I added a countdown timer to the sidebar so you can see how much longer untill we will officially be a 6 member family.

Mr. Mom

Do you remember that one? Classic. I love this movie. I have not seen it on TV yet this summer, but I'm looking. I should probably break down and just buy it, but I'm cheap. Favorite line: "My brain is like oatmeal. I yelled at Kenny today for coloring outside the lines! Megan and I are starting to watch the same TV shows, and I'm liking them! I'm losing it."

This summer as my wife finishes up teaching summer school, I can relate to Michael Keaton's character Jack Butler and his plight. It is not that easy staying at home with the kids. They're always. . . around. And they need stuff- food, clothes, playtime, diapers, love, attention. The problems come when they don't get one of the above at the exact second they want it. I got my wife a Mother's Day card that read "I childproofed the house, but they keep getting back in." I don't think the kids got it.

Conversation is definitely one sided. Daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy- get me, get me, get me, get me, get me- no, no, no, no, no. But I just pray for patience and wisdom and try to realize that I am touching the future. At least that's what I read on a T shirt.

But truly, deep down, it's great. I am absolutely in love with my three amazing children and wouldn't trade being a dad for anything. It is such an incredible responsibility. I am sad that some dads miss out on really being a father. Sometimes my wife or I will get a comment like "Oh, it's so nice that you are watching the kids." To that I always have to say "Well, not really. I'm not a babysitter. I'm their dad."

Picture courtesy of www.videodetective.com