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.