The Blog

While Christine was out for the evening, Victoria and I were eating pizza; Austin was eating chicken wings, because he does not like the feeling of the cheese if it gets stuck in his orthodontic appliance. Midway through our meal, Austin asked, “Who do you think is enjoying their meal more, Daddy? Me or you?” I don’t know,” I responded, “and we never will. You can never know how much I am enjoying my pizza and I can never know how much you are enjoying your wings.” “I have an idea Daddy,” he said, “Why don’t you give me a number to tell me how much you like your pizza tonight?” “Is a big number good or bad?” I asked. “Big numbers are better,” he replied, “How high can we go?” I wondered aloud. “10? 100? 1,000,000? Infinity?” “No Daddy…” Austin said, “…just 10. 10 means you like it the […]

At summer camp, the counselor was drawing caricatures of the children, Austin being one of them. After the counselor spent many minutes drawing, erasing and crafting a rendering of our son, he turned the work over for Austin to see. “Neat,” said Austin. “Thank you,” he said as the counselor handed over his art to our very polite boy, who then immediately walked to the garbage can and promptly disposed of the drawing. “Hey…why did you do that?” the counselor asked. “I am just going to have to throw it out when I get home, anyways. Now I don’t have to worry about losing it.”

It was one of those rare and special moments that a father cherishes. She was sitting on my lap cuddling peacefully with her favorite blanket while I read her a book when (for the first time) she put three words together consecutively to form her first legitimate sentence. She uses two syllables for names (i.e. “Mommy, Daddy, Harvey), but otherwise, our days are filled with “mine”, “bee”, “milk”, and other assorted monosyllabic utterances. Only with two exceptions (“all done” and “thank you”), will she speak with two words and even those are canned phrases that she has been conditioned to use in particular instances only. So when she put three words together in series for the first time, I praised her, gave her a huge hug and told her how proud I was before quickly and swiftly removing her from my lap. After all, that is what she asked for […]

Things have changed a lot over the years. When we were younger, her birthday dinners were at the Villa Roma, the River Palm, the Sea Shack or the Melting Pot. It was just the two of us at a quiet table (except at the Villa Roma, where Lilli was always loud…and we loved her for it!). We would sit and talk for two or three hours, discussing another year gone by and dreams and goals for the future. That was then… Now we have two children, one of whom (despite our best efforts) cannot sit still, can only be occupied for three minutes at a time, and talks very loudly. While she is yelling, he is dominating the conversation with questions and the insight of the average seven-year-old (which is an achievement considering that he just turned five). Very few eateries are suitable for the “energy” that we bring. There […]

Careful what you wish… There are moments in every day when I wish I could be where I am right now. The house is clean. Everything is where it belongs. The only screaming is on the radio and only if I am in the mood for that sort of thing. There are no constant interruptions. The football games are on. Even the cat and dog are getting alone. On most days, I would consider this is my utopia. This morning, I simply missed my family. …you just might get it.

Austin had woken over one hour earlier than usual Friday morning and he could not fall back to sleep. The result is what most parents might expect from a 5-year-old: an emotionally unstable mess. We barely made it to the diner that Friday morning between the tears over being too tired and the indecisiveness when selecting what shirt he was to wear to school that day; even once we were there he was not quite himself. After about five minutes, however, a song came over the radio that changed his mood almost instantly. Historically, music can pull him out of a funk, but it is usually a song that is already familiar to him, one of his favorites. This song was something that he had not heard before, yet after only 90 seconds, he was smiling and bouncing to the beat. “Daddy, do you like this song too?” he asked. […]

It means something different to her now, at eighteen months of age, than it will at twenty-four months. Now, when I hold her in my arms, she yells it out with a smile and excitement, certain of what is coming next. She knows that she is about to be bombarded with a series of kisses on her forehead, cheeks and neck while she is tipped backwards and squeezed in a warm (but playful) embrace. When I bring her back upright, she smiles and yells it again, no less excited than the time before. In six months, she probably won’t be as excited to answer; she won’t shout it as loud. When I ask her at five years of age, she may only smile, not saying a word. When she is thirteen, she’ll probably only answer with a rolling of her eyes; even then I will know that somewhere inside the […]

It’s only for a moment you are mine to hold The plans that heaven has for you Will all too soon unfold So many different prayers I’ll pray For all that you might do But most of all I’ll want to know You’re walking in the truth And If I never told you I want you to know As I watch you grow Chorus: I pray that God would fill your heart with dreams And that faith gives you the courage To dare to do great things I’m here for you whatever this life brings So let my love give you roots And help you find your wings May passion be the wind That leads you through your days And may conviction keep you strong Guide you on your way May there be many moments That make your life so sweet Oh, but more than memories Chorus: It’s not living […]

We were sat at the same table for the fourth week in a row as we watched a gentleman exit the coffee house.  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said to the waitress. “Daddy, [probably trying to drop a hint] he is coming back tomorrow too.” “He must be a regular.” “What’s a regular?” “A regular is a person who is predictable and the people who work somewhere know that that same person will always be there at a certain time or day.” “So, we are regulars on Friday mornings.” “Don’t get ahead of yourself, buddy.” .     .     .     . Fast forward one week; we walk in and sit at the same table for the fifth consecutive week. It is adjacent to the counter, which the waitress leans over to ask, “Coffee and OJ, right?” When she arrived a few moments later she brought with her our beverages. […]