There's a WHAT inside my wife?!?!

Do you remember those super cool pictures with the hidden 3D images that became really popular back in the nineties? They just looked like some type of pointless radical design at first glance but then your buddy who already had it figured out taught you how to look deeper into the picture. Maybe he showed you how to put your nose against it, slightly cross your eyes and slowly move your head away from the picture while gradually uncrossing your eyes until you finally saw it. 

What took you so long?

 For crying out loud, there's an angry three dimensional shark with two rows of flesh hungry teeth exploding out of the murky water (that you thought you actually felt splash your face) seconds away from chomping down on a tasty unfortunate surfer that the shark had mistaken for a manatee!!! ...and this is all happening mere inches from your face! You were practically giving him a cross eyed kiss only seconds ago!!! 

BOOM!!!

 Your mind was officially blown.

 How in the world did they do that? 

Well, the answer is: I don't know.

 I read some stuff on Google but I don't really remember... or maybe I'm just too elementary minded to comprehend what I read. Maybe that's why I have such an appreciation for these pictures in the first place.

What I do know (thanks to Google) is that the super cool picture with a hidden 3D image actually has a name. It's called:

THE STEREOGRAM:

Blast from the past, right? When was the last time you saw one of these bad boys? Did you know it's called a Stereogram? I'm impressed if you did. To be honest with you I had completely forgotten about these things until about two years ago. I remember exactly where I was when the memory of the stereogram re-entered my mind. I was sitting in a chair at the hospital while my stunningly beautiful pregnant wife was paying the receptionist for our 19 week doctor visit. We were anticipating the birth of our second child. We were approximately half way through the pregnancy. I was pouring over 8 or 9 pictures that were somehow even more mind blowing than the stereogram... 

and that's before I saw it.

What is "it" you ask? I'll get to "it" momentarily. For now, let's talk about those pictures.

THE SONOGRAM:

( Our second son, Fletcher, in the womb @ 10 weeks all by himself)

 I'd venture to say that pretty much everyone knows what a sonogram is. Those of us who are parents could never forget. I'm sure you remember that feeling you had the first time you saw a sonogram of your child/children; the first time you heard the heart beat. It's really the first chance to bond with your child. Even though your wife may have taken a pregnancy test or had her pregnancy confirmed by a doctor it just doesn't hit you until you see that tiny little guy and hear that beautiful breath taking heart beat. I will never forget that feeling... instant chills and an instant rush of the happiest tears to my eyes... true love.

 Okay... I'll stop.

 I can feel you tearing up on me.
(or maybe it's just me.)

What I'm trying to say is that it's one of life's mind blowing moments. I'd be lying if I said it was the same feeling I felt when I saw my first stereogram. That would be silly. It's similar but it's different. I already told you that I have an elementary mind. Don't get me wrong, I'm a smart enough guy but I guess I just really appreciate things that are "super cool" to me. A stereogram and a sonogram are both "super cool" in their own special way. Even though you have to look "deeper" into a stereogram to see what it has to offer, the super cool pay off moment is much deeper with the sonogram. When comparing the two, it's kind of funny when you think about it that way. But why would anyone bother to think about it that way? What would possess anyone to even bother comparing the two?

(Fletcher @ 19 weeks presumably still all by himself in the womb
don't worry, he doesn't have a twin.)


Am I right? Are you asking yourself  why I even bothered to make this comparison?

Well, the answer is: I don't know.

Just kidding. I actually have an answer this time but before I tell you, let me ask you a few questions that may seem like they are coming out of left field.

You've seen Toy Story right?

If you have kids they probably love the movies. You may even love them yourself.



Are you familiar with Woody, Buzz and the gang?

My oldest son, Cooper, LOVES Toy Story. At the time of our 19 week appointment with Fletcher it is safe to say that we were watching parts of Toy Story on an every day basis. It is also safe to say that my wife and I were seeing the Toy Story characters in our sleep. They had basically become part of the family.

This was the scene at our house on Christmas morning that year.

Back to the question at hand.

Why would I bother to compare a stereogram and a sonogram?

This is why:




When I first saw him while sitting in that chair at the doctor's office I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. I thought I had watched so much Toy Story that I was just seeing things. When i mentioned it to my wife she rolled her eyes. When she saw him for herself she couldn't believe her eyes. In case you haven't seen him yet, I will help you out.

WOODY!!!

Cowboy hat, vest and all.

Inside my wife.

Propped up against my unborn son's face.

"There's a snake in my boot!"

Once you see him you can't unsee him. We showed the receptionist. She cracked up laughing. She started showing Woody to everyone in the doctor's office. We were all laughing. The doctor even heard the laughter and came around the corner to see what was causing such a commotion. When he saw Woody he laughed heartily and explained to me how the babies right hand, jaw and nasal cavity lined up perfectly to make it look like Woody was hanging out in there. He even made a joke about there being "a Woody" inside my wife.

Gee. Thanks Doc.

As if Woody and the gang weren't already a big enough part of our family, now we're bonded forever and I'll never believe that those toys don't really come to life when no one is watching.

It was a fun moment. One I'll never forget. Right there in that chair in the doctor's office I actually had a stereogram moment for the first time since the nineties.

BOOM!!!

My mind was officially blown.
How in the world did they do that?

(Fletcher and Woody today. Two years later.)

OUT OF CONTROL: Playground Bullies

Allow me, if you will, to tell you a short story of a poor boy who became a victim of a ruthless bully on the Chick-fil-a playground.

The following events took place in late January of the year 2014. 

This is an unbiased witness account.

I preface this story by telling you that the capacity for empathy forms at age 3, meaning preschoolers are capable of caring for others as well as intentionally hurting others. In my opinion, this means that parents need to be alert and aware of the potential for bullying from the time our children start communicating with one another. Although I never had any significant first hand experience with bullying as a child, I've seen enough second hand bullying to understand the severity of the issue. I never want my child to become the victim of a bully and even more so, I never want my child to become a bully.

My focus needs to be on constant communication with my boys about their behavior and the behavior of their peers as they grow. Prevention and protection are key. I just need to focus on THEM. I'm safe. I made it through my adolescence without any major issues. High five! At 33 years old I NEVER have to worry about being bullied again in my entire lifetime...

 It was a typical Saturday lunch with friends. We filled our tummies on greasy fried nuggets, waffle fries and a fruit bowl. Yes, a fruit bowl... because a well rounded meal is very important to us.

Fried chicken... Waffle fries... Fruit bowl... Three course meal.

That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

So, we shared a few stories and laughs with our friends and then I took the boys into the play area to let them burn off some post meal energy. Cooper (3 months shy of 3 years old at the time) immediately took off up the stairs to the slide while I stayed below with Fletcher (9 months old) to let him explore.

I observed two boys (approximately 5 and 6 years old) rough housing nearby with no parental supervision. For a second I thought they might be conjoined twins. They kind of reminded me of two squirrels mating. You know what I mean? They chase each other up and down a tree (a playground in this case) at break neck speeds no further than one inch apart at all times squeaking and squawking all the while. They were all over each other and really going at it. They played like brothers who either hated each other or really loved each other and had a funny way of showing it. They kept to themselves though and didn't seem to bother anyone else. I figured I'd let them work through their brotherly aggression on their own terms as long as they didn't try to get my boys involved in their mating ritual. After all, I wasn't the one who was going to be paying for the doctor's bill if someone broke an arm.

We did our best to ignore them while we played for about 10 minutes. The two boys calmed down significantly and just before we called it a day I overheard one of the boys begin to talk in that "school kid bully tone." You know the one. We've all heard it before. He started to draw out his words and accompany them with some "Oooh's" and bratty laughter. I decided it was my duty as a responsible parent to eavesdrop on the boy. What if I needed to protect my cubs? We were the only other people on the playground. Who else could he possibly be picking on besides my innocent little boys? I'll admit it, Papa Bear's ears perked up and he got on his hind legs. If you are a parent, I'm sure you can relate to this feeling.

Here's what the boy had to say:

 "Oooh, he goes for the Gators...haha. Oooh, and he has a yellow beard...Oooh, AND HE'S BALD HAHA!!!"

It didn't take long for me to realize that this bully wasn't picking on my boys. To my knowledge, there was only one bald guy with a beard wearing a Florida Gators shirt on the playground. He was making fun of ME!!

Are you kidding me? Such blatant disrespect! What's wrong with kids these days? I couldn't believe my ears.

Fortunately for me, his little buddy didn't appreciate his mean spirited comments as much as he did. When their dad came to get them off the playground he told on him. I really appreciated that even though it didn't really help with the self esteem issues I've been having as a result of this incident. As if it wasn't hard enough to deal with going bald in my mid to late twenties, now I've got this miniature Biff Tannen busting my chops on the playground while I'm trying to spend some quality time with my little McFly's. Thanks a lot Biff. As a result of this incident I've really been doing some soul searching in an attempt to find out who I really am as a man deep down:

I tried the 1920's train conductor look. My kids love trains. I figured they would love this look. I was wrong.

I tried the daredevil autopilot by day/ 1950's bare knuckle boxer by night look.

It just led to more confusion.

I even went through a Walter White look a like phase. When I walked into CVS to buy cough medicine they refused my sale. Also, my wife threatened to change the locks on the house.

You know what Biff? I'm glad your little buddy tattled on you. Serves you right you little punk. By the way, my beard isn't yellow. It's RED. I would have let you slide if you went with dark orange, but YELLOW?!?! Come on! My two year old knows better. Novel idea: Why don't you go home and practice learning your colors instead of picking on adults at Chick-fil-a there smart guy?!?! 

The unmitigated gall!!!

 I eventually regained my composure and confidence. I did it for the kids. I couldn't set that kind of example for them. I can't believe my wife and I have brought two children into this cruel bully riddled world. I'm also somewhat shocked and in a state of disbelief that my bald head with a bushy RED beard look doesn't seem to be working for me, even with the younger demographic. I actually thought it made me look tough. Wrong again.

Like I said before, prevention and protection are key. I just need to focus on ME. The boys are safe. They're young and resilient. I'm old and fragile. Now I'm 34 years old and I'm just glad papa bear has these two cubs to protect him when the going gets tough... and yes, I shaved the beard. My wife is probably grateful for little Biff. Now that I think about it, she may have actually hired him.

Don't You EVER!!!

There are some things in life you should just never ever do. I guess you would call them general rules of thumb. You've probably had most of these lessons drilled into your head by your parents throughout the years but lets touch on a few examples just to be sure we've covered all of our bases: 

a.) Never say never.

b.) Never go to bed angry.

c.) NEVER dishonor your father or your mother! 

d.) NEVER hit a woman!!!

e.) Most Importantly... NEVER EVER get a dinosaur!!!!

Wait! What?

No one ever taught you this lesson? Well, you're just going to have to trust me on this one. Don't do it! I just wouldn't advise it. As tempting as it may sound to bring home a cute little baby Triceratops, Tyrannosaurus or perhaps even a "Pterrible-dactyl," as my three year old son calls them, don't give in to the urge. Of course they're cute when they're babies! Haven't you seen Jurassic Park? That place is a nightmare waiting to happen.

Remember? 

Maybe I should back up and start from the beginning before I really lose you. 

Do you remember any family traditions you had with your parents when you were a child? Perhaps an inside joke, a funny little saying or a bed time routine that you shared throughout your childhood?

 I remember one right off hand. It was called, "The Special Kiss." Actually, It consisted of five kisses and I don't recall when or why it started but every night at bed time I would give Mom and Dad a "special kiss." I would give them a kiss on the lips followed by a kiss on each cheek and then we would trade forehead kisses before I crawled into bed. I know it started when I was very young and if I recall correctly, it actually lasted all the way until high school when I finally decided I was too old and way too cool to be giving my parents a silly special kiss at bed time. I'm sure that was a sad day for them but I guess you have to let your baby grow up at some point. Let's just say I was 15 when the special kiss became extinct. If that's accurate then that means it has been approximately 19 years since I've given my parents a special kiss. I think I owe them one next time I see them. They've earned it. No doubt.

As a father, creating family traditions is something that is very important to me. When I first became a dad I decided it would be a good family bedtime tradition to tell my first born son Cooper, "Daddy loves you SOOOO much...and don't you EVER forget it," before he fell asleep. I would tell him every night. I would make sure he knew how much his daddy loved him and his mommy would make sure he knew how much she loved him too. We would always be sure to remind him not to forget it. We told him before he was old enough to even understand what it meant. We didn't care. We wanted him to learn what it meant and we wanted him to understand from a very young age that he was loved immensely. We continued to tell him as he grew; as he learned to crawl, walk and talk. Once he started talking I would say, "Daddy loves you SOOOO much...and don't you EVER..." and I would wait for him to fill in the blanks. At this point in his life he had heard this so much that he knew exactly what came next. He would always say, "forget it!" without fail. We had created a perfect little family tradition that would last for years and years to come... or so we thought.

Cooper had other plans though. At two years old he had a rather large vocabulary and an even larger imagination. He was full of imaginative stories and Ideas. Some of these ideas showed that he had a capacity to understand more than your average two year old while many of his other ideas made absolutely no sense at all. One night while going through our typical bedtime routine I told Cooper, "Daddy loves you so much... and don't you EVER..." Instead of his usual response, he replied, "GET A DINOSAUR!" I just laughed and said, "No silly, don't you ever forget it!"  I just assumed he was being silly and this would be a one time thing. I figured the next night we would be right back to our normal tradition, but I was wrong. 

Two nights later Cooper still found it necessary to assure me that he would never get a dinosaur. I thought about explaining extinction to him and informing him that he would never have the chance to get a dinosaur unless he somehow lucked into some type of paleontology internship with Dr. Alan Grant where they uncover dinosaur DNA taken from dinosaur blood that was preserved inside insects encased in amber and turn that DNA into genetically modified dinosaur embryo's to be grown and developed inside a high tech dino incubator... 

I just couldn't do it. I couldn't crush his little two year old dreams. Dinosaurs are as real to him as the millions of other things he's seen on television but not in real life. Instead, his mother and I just decided to go with it. Why not? If the little guy wanted to tell us that he'd never get a dinosaur every night at bedtime so be it. It was actually a very reassuring thought. What a responsible young man. It's hard enough to take care of a dog. I appreciate the fact that he's not going to over extend himself.

Almost two years later we still say it every night. "Daddy loves you so much and don't you ever..." ..."GET A DINOSAUR!" It's become so much more than it was before Cooper made his addition. Sometimes my wife and I will just text one another and simply say "Don't you ever get a dinosaur!" Translation: I love you so much. As parents we don't always choose our traditions. We might want to, but we really just need to be able to recognize them when they come along and embrace them.


Our 1 and a half year old, Fletcher, has caught on too. He's part of the routine every night now as well. He picked up on it before we even tried to teach him. His cute little roars just add to the fun family tradition. I wonder how long it will last? I wonder how old the boys will be when they finally ask us why on earth we say that to each other at bedtime and what on earth it means? I wonder what they will think of the explanation? I wonder if they boys will let, "don't you ever get a dinosaur" be our secret code to tell them that we love them whenever they are too old and way too cool to say, "I love you" in front of their friends? I sure hope so. Thankfully, that day is many years down the road though I'm sure it won't seem like it. I just hope this family tradition doesn't go the way of the special kiss... or the way of the dinosaur for that matter. Until next time, good night and don't you EVER...

When I Grow Up

What do you want to be when you grow up?

Do you remember what your answer was?

What if you had actually become that?

How different would your life be?

My first grade teacher was named Mrs. Alford. In her class I did a project where I had to give a speech about what I wanted to be when I grew up. Although I can't remember much of anything from that long ago, this particular project really resonates with me to this day. Would you like to know why? Because I told the class that I wanted to be a Marketing Representative, that's why. You may be asking yourself, "Why on earth does that make this so memorable?" Ha! Let's see, possibly because I couldn't pronounce my R's properly in 1st grade so my entire life since then I've had to listen to my parents and older sisters talk about how cute it was to hear me say "Mawketing Wepwesentative" over and over in front of my class. I guess the definition of cute and embarrassing mean roughly the same thing, depending on your perspective. Truth is, I don't even know exactly what a mawketing wepwesentative does. I doubt I really understood in first grade, even though my parents did their best to explain it. I never truly wanted to be a mawketing wepwesentative but my dad was a mawketing wepwesentative by day and my hero by night and I wanted to be just like him so... why not? If it was going to make me more like my dad then sign me up.

 Side note: He was also my baseball coach. Nice knee pads Dad.

So, I didn't want to be a Marketing Representative. There was a brief stretch in fourth grade where I wanted to be Garth Brooks. (Today I'm not a fan of country music but let's be honest, the dude was a genius when I was 8 years old.) I don't know what I wanted to be. I guess I just wanted to be happy like my mom and dad and maybe one day have a son who I could make this for:

Yep. Eat your heart out! My very own Garth Brooks lunch box that my parents made for me in fourth grade. It's a one of a kind. Limited Edition. Yeehaw!

As I got older I don't remember ever wanting to be anything other than a baseball, football or basketball player. Poor guy... what I didn't understand as a young boy was that...well, I was a runt. I still am. 34 years old and I go about 5'9 160 lbs. Professional sports just wasn't in the cards for me but I kept plugging away anyhow. I prayed about it.

In the eleventh grade my focus began to shift from sports to music. I started playing guitar and formed a band with a few friends from school. My dream job officially changed. I wanted to be a rock star now. Yep, I wanted to graduate high school, move to California and travel the country playing music in bars and various other venues. Man, I just hope mom and dad didn't blame Garth for this. It truly wasn't his fault.

Look at that face.

Nope. It was punk rock music that had stolen my heart this time around. No more country for me. Looking back I'm sure mom and dad weren't too thrilled about this. I played guitar in a punk rock band for somewhere around 8 years and rare was the night that my 60 something year old (at the time) parents weren't in attendance with the video camera avoiding the mosh pit to support their baby boy. I was truly blessed. What an example those two set for me.

Okay. Let's recap. The only jobs I ever really wanted to have were a professional athlete or a rock star. I'm not exaggerating when I say that I really really wanted to do one of these two things. After high school I put all of my time and effort into music. Our band had a lot of talent. We were about to hit it big. I could feel it! I prayed about it...but it just never happened. Maybe that had something to do with the fact that we named our band, "Breaking Up." Foreshadowing? Needless to say, we broke up.

Who was that old singer? You know that old song? How did it go?

"Sometimes I thank God for unanswered prayers." If 8 year old me was here right now he'd look me dead in the eye and say, "I told you that guy was a genius." I guess I'd have to concur.  I'd bet that I thank God for unanswered prayers at least once a week. A professional athlete and a rock star, huh? What a sweet juxtaposition. If I had become one of those I might be married. I might still have children. I wouldn't be home though, in THIS home living THIS life with THIS wife and these two boys. I wouldn't be able to invest time into my boys lives every single day and teach them how to count with flash cards at the dinner table or help them learn their ABC's with foam letters in the bathtub. I wouldn't be able to experience the utterly odd joy when my sons eyes start to water as he finally grunts for the first time while sitting on the potty and poops somewhere other than his diaper or the tub. Oh, sweet victory! I wouldn't have near as much time to teach them how to swing a baseball bat, catch a football or shoot a basketball. I wouldn't have as much time to teach them manners or how to treat a woman. I wouldn't have as much time to teach them about character and accountability. I'd be having fun. I'd be making more money. I understand that some people do it and make it work. Not me though. God wanted me at home every day a few minutes after 5 for those, "Daddy's Home" moments. He wanted me to have no excuses if my boys didn't turn out to be better men than I am. That's the challenge. That's the goal. I accept. I am who I want to be when I grow up. Thanks God... thanks Garth.

What does Fatherhood mean to You?

Perhaps more than anything else in life Parenthood really stimulates my brain. Fortunately for me, I have the kind of job that affords me the luxury of driving around alone in a truck all day, day dreaming behind a dashboard about my kids and my role as a father. If i didn't I'm sure I'd be looking for a new one. I've heard it said many times that men have a "nothing box" where we drift off to from time to time. It's true. We do. From our wives perspective we stay there for the majority of our life and only poke our heads out from time to time like a sleepy groundhog looking for his shadow, and that's only when they shake us hard enough or scream loud enough to get our attention. Even then, like the groundhog, we forget what we are looking for and we don't even check the weather. We just throw on some camo cargo shorts, a tee-shirt (that may or may not match) and possibly a lightweight jacket and we strike out on our merry way as we follow our nose and let the chips fall where they may. This is not exactly the best approach when we have children in tow but I'm here to tell you that this description is UNFAIR. Okay, partially unfair. Alright, completely accurate before we became fathers but now that we have kids... partially unfair. For crying out loud, we took the time to make sure we were wearing cargo shorts with extra pockets for snacks. That has to count for something. Can we compromise on this? After all, that IS what marriage is about, right? The truth is that most of us men live our life in a perpetual trial and error. There's nothing wrong with that as long as we learn from our trials... and errors. That's where things get interesting.

Needless to say, this is NOT how our female counterparts operate. Excuse me for generalizing. I know there are exceptions to the rule but if your wife is like my wife she's always on her toes. She's sharp. She's a great planner and motherhood seemed to come naturally to her. Dare I say... she's graceful in her own special way? I count my blessings every day but honestly it was intimidating at first how she had never been a mother but when we came home from the hospital and they informed us that a doctor was not staying at our house and we were now permanent full time baby sitters, she still somehow knew what to do. Turns out, she was just flying by the seat of her pants and doing a great job of disguising it. I was too but my disguise was much less convincing. As a father who has to go back to work, and especially for a father whose wife is a stay at home mom, it's easy to take a back seat and a less involved role in the home but its something altogether amazing to fight that tendency and dive in head first.

It's safe to say that fatherhood came somewhat naturally to me as well, but not in the same ways. I'm definitely not sharp or a good planner. I'm forgetful and scatter brained. I don't possess some of those "good parent" qualities. My wife would think something was wrong with me if I didn't walk all the way to the car before realizing I needed to get the keys from inside the house in order to crank it up. If i try to get on my toes anywhere outside of a football field or basketball court I'm sure to lose my balance, but when I do I'm very quick to adjust and make things work when they don't go as planned. I like to give myself credit for at least that much anyway. I say all this to say that at some point after becoming a parent you have to ask yourself exactly what fatherhood, or motherhood for that matter, means to you. Be honest with yourself. Ask the tough questions. Do not take the easy way out. Assess your strengths and weaknesses. Grow them. Compare them to your spouses strengths and weaknesses. Try to combine them to be the best team you can be. Do you want to actively parent your children every day and give your time to them instead of using it for yourself or do you want your child to be a cute little accessory that you don't let interrupt your already fabulously flowing life? Do you think it's enough to simply provide for your child and spend your time doing what you want to do because that's how your dad did it and you turned out okay? I understand how this might sound. I'm not pointing fingers. I'm not judging. Well, kind of I am, but I'm really trying to encourage. I struggle with the balance too and it's important not to lose the identity of who you were before you became a parent, but maybe your dad was wrong. Maybe my dad was wrong. Maybe we shouldn't decide how we think proper parenting should be done and stick to it but we should make a point to learn what works from a constant trial and error that we pursue daily.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I've found it healthy and unbelievably rewarding to really challenge myself and get outside of my comfort zone and do things as a parent that I didn't particularly think I'd like to do. Crazy, right? Make bath time your responsibility. Sure, we'd all like to come home after a long day at work and prop our feet up and watch some mindless television show instead of bathing a 3 year old but try using it as an opportunity to talk to your child about his day. Close the shower curtain and let him splash and have fun. No one likes changing diapers but put your nose in there (not literally) and change every diaper you can when you come home from work and give your wife a break from it on the weekends. After a certain amount of time you'll find out that it's really not all that bad and its actually a good bonding experience between you and your child where you can develop inside jokes that make your child laugh and in turn, strengthen your relationship. Plus, you'll get major brownie points from your wife which will definitely... no, probably...  okay, I can't lie. Honestly, there is a very slim chance that these actions will strengthen your sex life but it's worth a shot and that's not the motivation behind this anyway so don't get discouraged. Keep an open mind and you can find little things like this outside of your everyday routine that provide the opportunity for you to invest more time into your children. It's amazing how many opportunities there are. You just have to look for them. It's also amazing how you'll feel when you come out on the other side after having taken one of these opportunities.

I'm no professional. I've only been on this parenting gig for just under 4 years. I didn't go to college for it or pass a test to get a parenting license but somehow I lucked into this dream job and somehow I came to the realization that the only thing that makes this job seem easy is hard work and overtime. Ironically these are the exact same things that make my career seem more difficult, but it's true. I make mistakes all the time and continue my trial and error but there is one thing I'm sure of. If someone asks me, "What does fatherhood mean to you?" I will reply, "Time and effort and love and gratitude and more time and more effort and more love and more gratitude." I will mean that and I will live it. I have no choice at this point. I used to think these boys locked my nothing box and lost the key in a toy box somewhere along with that old bluetooth that disappeared a few years back, but then I realized I was wrong. They found the key, unlocked the box and took up a permanent residence along with their toys and tears and smiles and laughter and poop. We're still working on getting the poop out of there. Like I said, it takes time...and trial... and error too, unfortunately. The important thing is that the effort is there.

Let's Blaze!

It's amazing to watch the brain of a child develop. The sense of pride you feel in the unique person that they begin developing into is simply indescribable. Before I had children I never could have Imagined the rabbit trails of development I'd follow my sons down.

Close to two months ago a new kids show came on television. BLAZE AND THE MONSTER MACHINES. Some of you who have young boys are probably familiar with it. If not, it's a pretty educational show and worth checking out. It teaches problem solving skills and teamwork from an automotive perspective. It teaches about friction and pistons and other things I know nothing about. Anyway, my boys had seen commercials leading up to it and my three year old, Cooper, really expressed interest (because what three year old boy doesn't like monster trucks?) so my wife made sure the boys got to watch it from day one. Appointment television I think they call it.

A day or two after they started watching the show I came home from work and Cooper informed me that my name was no longer Daddy. Actually, while I was at work the whole family had undergone name changes in his little brain. They are as follows:

Daddy = Blaze

Cooper = Pickle

Mommy = Starla

Fletcher = Stripes

     He named us after 4 of the Monster truck characters on the show. He did this all on his own. I Thought it was a pretty cute idea on his part but I didn't think much of it. By the end of the week when he was still calling me Blaze almost every time he called my name. (and the times he called me Daddy he made sure to "correct himself" and change it to Blaze) I started to wonder how long this would last. I also thought about how much I like hearing him call me Daddy and I wasn't sure I liked being Blaze. Then the weekend rolled around and I got a chance to watch the show with him. I've had the chance now, almost two months later, to watch all 8 episodes with him and he still calls me Blaze non stop, all day every day. What I learned from watching the show with him is that Pickle is a smaller monster truck who really looks up to Blaze and always talks about how great Blaze is. Blaze ends up saving the day every episode by solving whatever problem exists that day. Essentially, Blaze is Pickle's hero. I've never had any doubt about my sons love or admiration for me but this just really made it clear how much that boy looks up to his Daddy. I hope he always calls me Blaze. I'll wear that name proudly. The fact that he made the connection  between the relationship of Blaze and Pickle and that of him and his Daddy was very impressive to me, not to mention how heartwarming it was.

About two weeks ago he started calling my parents GrandBlaze and GrandStarla. Around Thanksgiving his Poppy was having trouble getting his old work truck started. Cooper and I were outside with him. Poppy tried to crank the old truck two or three times unsuccessfully. Cooper said, 

"Poppy, I think your truck is out of batteries."

 Poppy agreed. He hooked the battery up to a charger and tried to crank it again unsuccessfully. Cooper said,

"Poppy, maybe your truck is out of gas." 

Poppy cranked again. Cooper said,

"Poppy, I think your truck is missing a piston." 

As those words escaped the little guys mouth I couldn't help but crack up laughing. A big part of me was proud of my funny little guy but a larger part of me was just scared he was going to turn to Blaze and ask me to fix the problem. Sorry Pickle, when it comes to trucks I'm afraid this Blaze has a lot of learning to do. He's learned a lot from this show. I've learned a lot from him.
-Blaze

Recently we went to our first Monster truck show together with a few friends. Here are a few pictures:

National Anthem

Blaze and Pickle

Being silly

Poor Pickle Passed Out

Cooper & his buddies.