Everybody Loves Byron: Death in the Facebook Era

Disclaimer: There are so many people more qualified than me to write this post but I just felt the need to take advantage of the forum that I have... out of respect for a friend... and to bring light to some pretty amazing observations I made in the days following his passing. Much Love...

Grieving is not something that anyone ever wants to do but eventually we all have to do it. There are no instructions for grieving. Unlike many things in life, no one ever really sits you down and teaches you a lesson on how to grieve or mourn the loss of a loved one. As a general rule, I'd say that most people just figure out what works for them as they go, because everyone grieves differently. What works for some may not work for others when facing some of life's most difficult situations.

For some, grieving is a very private matter and they don't want any added attention on them during the process. Others, however, want the world to know just how much they miss the deceased (no matter how close they may or may not have been) and they seem to enjoy the attention. Their grieving can become a very public ordeal, even more so living in the Facebook era. Everyone else falls somewhere in between. I'm not judging people for the way they deal with loss. I'm just pointing out the fact that people are very different. When it comes down to it, whatever helps you feel better... DO IT!  (Unless it's smoking crack. Don't smoke crack under any circumstance!!) Hopefully, we all get some good advice or a shoulder to lean on from a family member or close friend in times like these.

In my 34 year life I've been blessed to be able to say I haven't lost anyone too terribly close to me. However, a few years back I lost a childhood friend from my one red light hometown to a freak accident. His name was Scott and he was a great guy. I was able to see how the viewing, funeral and celebration of life afterwards really brings people together to grieve, grow and come to some kind of closure or acceptance of their loss... a process that seems impossible when the news first surfaces.

It was truly a beautiful thing to see everyone go from devastation and tears of sadness to tears of  happiness and acceptance (considering the situation) as they recollect a life cut short. I was overwhelmed by how much that process really seemed to help, which brings me to the reason for this post.

Three days ago I lost another childhood friend from my small hometown of Keystone Heights, Florida to a car accident. Don't go feeling sorry for ME. That's not what this is about. He has family and much closer friends who need your condolences. His name was Byron Nelson. We called him TANK. We grew up playing baseball together in our elementary years.

We were always on the same team.

Byron was only slightly more handsome than I was. Mostly because I was too busy trying to be cool.

 We both always used the same bat to get us out of a slump. We called her "Old Faithful." We didn't always use Old Faithful because, in reality, she was a pretty ordinary bat but she just seemed to get the job done when we needed her most. To this day, when Byron and I would run into each other Old Faithful was always a topic of conversation. Oh, the good old days!!

 We were friends in high school but we weren't super close. As adults, other than Facebook interaction, we only bumped into each other once every couple of years, but I was always met with the biggest sincere smile, a giant hug and great conversation. Byron was a friend for life. Apparently, he was a friend for life with every single human being within a 100 mile radius of our hometown and probably beyond, which is no surprise if you knew Byron. This explains why Facebook EXPLODED when he died. I just have a few things I'd like to say about this explosion and the fallout afterwards.

On the grief spectrum, if there is such a thing, I fall very strongly on the side of a private griever. I share my feelings about a lot of things with the world on social media but I'm not the kind of person who takes to Facebook to write my own personal eulogy to someone when they die. When I heard the news of Byron's accident I was really sad. It was a gut punch. However, I am by no means one of Byron's closest friends and I didn't find it necessary to express my sadness on social media. (I certainly didn't expect to end up writing this blog post.) I thought I would just leave that up to his closest friends and maybe comment here or there on something that struck a chord with me...

AND THEN IT HAPPENED! 

Three days straight of nothing but Facebook statuses about Byron and the impact that his life had on almost everyone. LITERALLY, ALMOST EVERYONE. Everyone but me...it was like I was the only one who decided not to shout out to the TANK and THAT really struck a chord with me. I've never seen anything like it. This guy got more out of life in 35 years than most people could squeeze into 70. He touched so many different people in so many different ways just by being himself... just by being happy and sincere. It was sad but beautiful to watch this play out over the last three days. It was like I was watching the whole viewing, funeral and celebration of life process that I spoke of about Scott's funeral before. It was playing out in front of me on social media and it was big and it was amazing, just like Byron. No matter how sad people were they couldn't help but share stories of good times because that's really all there was to share, even though Byron had been through more than his share of loss in his life. If you are reading this and you are friends with him I know that you know what I'm talking about.

I got to thinking and I realized that if everyone just grieved privately (like I chose to do)... and kept their comments to themselves during these sad moments... and left it up to those closest to the deceased... then the impact of that persons life would never truly be felt the way it should be. I felt the impact of Byron's life over the last three days like nothing I've ever experienced thanks to people who grieve differently than I do. Thank you for that. I definitely learned a lesson from you all. In the world we live in today, like it or not, people communicate on social media about everything and death is certainly fair game. A lot of people criticize Facebook and social media for causing drama and strife but fail to see the good that can come from it in a close knit community like ours in such a difficult time.

I just hope that somehow Byron knows that on the day he died he almost took the internet with him. He almost broke Facebook. I hope he knows that he was grieved and celebrated on social media like the rock star that he is for at least three days straight. I hope he knows that his death made everyone stop and wish they were a little more like him. I hope he knows that when we all think about his smile from this day forward we'll get chills knowing exactly how sincere it was and how treasured it should have been. I hope he knows that his death and all his friends caused me to do some deep thinking and share the effect his light had on me rather than keeping it to myself like I had originally planned.  

You know, it dawned on me earlier today that the one person I still specifically remember seeing and having a meaningful and uplifting conversation with years ago at Scott's funeral was Byron. He is and will always be truly memorable.

Definitely not ordinary, just Old Faithful!

Who are the people with the belly buttons?

There's been a question floating around my house for the past 6 months or so that has caused me to do a little thinking. The same question has been asked in multiple different ways by my 4 year old son. It actually started when he was 3...

"Hey Daddy, who are the people with the belly buttons?"

"Where are the people with the belly buttons?"

"Can we see the girls with the belly buttons again?"

"Why do those girls wear the shirts that show their belly buttons?"

You get the point. He's quite inquisitive about the girls who show their belly buttons. 

Cheerleaders.

My wife and I are big sports fans, as you may already know if you know us personally or if you follow the Dashboard Dad Blog. We're constantly watching sports and our two boys have been exposed to just about every team sport imaginable. I honestly never even notice the cheerleaders anymore. Seriously, I don't...or at least I didn't until my son started pointing them out and asking questions everytime the game would come back from commercial break. He's even asked me to rewind the TV before.

Recently, we've been watching a lot of the Stanley Cup Playoffs. Go Lightning! That's hockey for you non sports fans. He asked me the other night if hockey had cheerleaders. I told him no and he seemed disappointed. 

"Oh, just football and basketball?"

When he first asked the question about the people with the belly buttons I didn't know exactly what he was talking about but it didn't take long for me to figure it out. My initial reaction was pure excitement.

"That a boy!"

Like any red blooded heterosexual American Dad, I was proud. I still am.

My son is obviously attracted to the female body.

Scratch the alternative off the list of potential issues that I'm severely unprepared to handle.

Oh, wait a minute, My 3 year old son is attracted to the female body!?!?!

Uh Oh!!

Add that to the list of potential issues that I'm severely unprepared to handle!!!!

Oh boy. Is he going to be girl crazy? Is he going to come home from Kindergarten and tell his mother and I that he has 5 girlfriends, like I told my parents?!

Probably.

Who knows.

I just had this flash forward to him as a teenager "checking out chicks" with his friends or little brother. Whoa! I wasn't prepared for this. 

I'm not here to take some moral highground and say that cheerleaders or swim suit models should wear more clothes. It doesn't bother me. I just find it very interesting that, with no outside influence from me or anyone that I know of, a 3 year old boy naturally finds a womans body to be attractive enough to cause him to grin sheepishly and inquire about it.

We also had an occasion a little over a month ago when our family was on vacation in Hawaii and he saw a swimsuit model on a poster at a store and he froze in his tracks to check her out. When I asked him what he was looking at he replied,

 "Uhh, nothing Daddy!!"

He seemed embarassed; like he got caught doing something he shouldn't. I certainly don't want him to feel like being attracted to the body of a woman is something he should feel any amount of shame about. On the other hand, I don't want him to go too far to the other extreme where he just gawks at women all the time. I tried to explain to him that he wasn't in trouble and it was okay if he thought the girl on the poster was pretty. I told him that Daddy thinks girls are really pretty, ESPECIALLY HIS MOMMY! He just smiled and asked why the lady on the poster wore a shirt that showed her belly button and I explained to him that is just how girls bathing suits look and we carried on.

There are so many things you just never think about before becoming a parent. This is certainly one of them. I guess it's true that this is something that probably wouldn't have even crossed his mind yet if we lived in a more conservative society, but we don't. I'm not going to waste my time wishing that we did because I don't think it's necesarilly a problem. Of course, I'm also not a father of daughters. Sorry guys.

I'm just going to teach my son to respect women no matter what and make sure he is well aware that he can talk to his dad about anything... even if he is only 4 years old. It's never too early to start that open line of communication.

So, what do you think? Do you have any similar experiences to share? Does this seem early to be asking this type of question? 

I look forward to reading your input. Until next time- DD

What Are You Thankful For?

 There are so many things in my life that I am thankful for. It seems like once I became a parent I truly realized the abundance of blessings that I already had in my life. I guess a new perspective and a significant multiplication of blessings will do that to you. Right now what I am thankful for is very simple and it's something we've developed as a family over the past four years. I am extremely thankful for the bedtime routine, or lack thereof, that we have established in our family of four.

Many families have a rigid bedtime routine that they adhere to practically every single night. They have a set dinner time and bath time followed by teeth brushing (hopefully), some version of story/prayer time and lights out at a specific time. This routine is rarely altered.

WE ARE NOT ONE OF THOSE FAMILIES.

I'm not saying there is anything wrong with this type of approach but it's just not the way we choose to do things. Perhaps this will change once our kids get into school, but as for now our bedtime routine basically consists of dinner and bath in no particular order, followed by teeth brushing and...

A.) snuggling on the couch with one or both parents watching football, basketball, hockey or baseball depending on the season. Right now we are in the midst of the Stanley Cup playoffs so we're watching a lot of hockey at "bedtime." We are a big sports family and its the perfect opportunity to show them that watching sports as a family is important to us. Plus, they usually lose interest and fall asleep rather quickly.

B.) story time on our older son's bed. (we currently have a 4 year old and a 2 year old: both boys). We snuggle them up on the bed and read a few books. When we're all done we usually just turn out the lights, say goodnight and walk out. Our two year old who is still in a crib usually whines for about 30 seconds and then they either fall asleep or start talking to each other (which is always great entertainment listening over the monitor). We leave him in the bed with his big brother to fall asleep and we move him over to the crib later when we come in the room to check on them. This works out well. He never gets out of the bed as long as his big brother is there with him. The transition from crib to big boy bed with our first son was kind of a nightmare. He was always getting out of bed. So far it looks like we won't have to worry about that the second time around. This also provides a good opportunity for some classic pictures.

C.) On Friday nights or special occasions we'll all just pile into our bed for a movie or a few episodes of Fixer Upper or a good family talk. The boys love this and  they usually get a little rowdy but we only do it on nights when we don't have to wake up for anything in the morning. The quality time is definitely worth it although I end up having to lug them to bed at some point in the middle of the night.

Regardless of how we decide to do bed time on a particular night there is always one constant and that is prayer time. Now, I'm not going to sit here and tell you to do prayer time with your children if you don't believe in God (although it couldn't hurt) but I am going to advise you to do what precedes prayer time in our house because you don't need to believe that your blessings come from God to be grateful for them. Every night after story time or after we pause the television, we ask the boys what they are thankful for. They answer with an array of "blessings" ranging from favorite television shows to family members to friends names to favorite toys to animals to chocolate fishing rods. 

When we first started doing this they didn't have much to say. That's when my wife Daphne and I decided to ask each other what we are thankful for so we could set an example for them as to how the question should/could be answered. 

"I'm thankful for the roof over our heads" 

"I'm thankful for 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep."

"I'm thankful for two healthy and happy boys."

"I'm thankful for the opportunity to make good choices tomorrow."

This is also a good time to show your kids that you love, respect and appreciate your spouse with answers such as "I'm thankful for the job Mommy does at home with you boys" or "I'm thankful for Daddy's hard work every day." After seeing this a few times their answers went from a blank stare, gibberish or "I don't know" to something meaningful. Sure, sometimes their answers are pure silliness but I can really see them developing an appreciation for the things in this life that they have. 

Now that we've been doing this for a while we get them to tell us at least three things that they are thankful for each night. My 4 year olds current go-to is, "I'm thankful for you, Daddy" which melts my heart every single night, of course. He usually follows that up with a shout out to his Mom and his little brother. 

Although my two year old typically likes to just give us a run down of his favorite TV shows, he's developing a reputation of thinking of people in his life who he is thankful for other than his Mom and Dad. When he randomly mentions our friends Adam and Amy or my buddy Leroy or Mrs. Janet from church, I know his wheels are turning and we're doing a good thing. They are understanding what gratitude is more and more each day. They are learning an appreciation for blessings. Even if most of the blessings they are grateful for are toys today, one day those blessings will be something more and they will be sure not to take them for granted. I can only dream of where they will go from here.

What about you? Do you have any routines or traditions that the rest of the world just has to know about? Feel free to share. In the mean time I will leave you with this video from a few days ago of my boys telling me a few things they are thankful for. Enjoy!

They Call it LABOR for a Reason (guest post by Daphne Grice)

This week I am sharing a guest post by my wife Daphne. In this post she compares the labor experience of our second born child with that of our first and the differences of labor with and without an epidural. I'm just as proud of her today as I was on each of the two days our boys were born. She was a trooper. I was a cryer. Happy tears of course. Without further ado...

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They call it LABOR for a reason!

It is hard to believe that I am now the Mom of two very handsome little fellas... I am not sure if that is because it feels so wonderful or if I am so sleep deprived that the lines of reality are blurred. I wouldn't trade the bags under my eyes for anything in the world. So maybe I would have traded it for an epidural, but who's to say really?

Fletcher Lee Grice was born on April 27, 2013 at a very dark 4:25 am. We arrived at the hospital around 7:00 on Friday night- concerned that my labor was going to come quickly and we wouldn't make it in time, I would have to deliver the baby in the car, etc... Needless to say that wasn't Mr. Fletcher's plan. He took his time, let us savor a few more sweet moments as a family of 3, squeeze Cooper's neck and start the caravan to deliver. 

This time I decided I was going to go at this like a hero Mom... One who watched The Business of Being Born twice and felt like I knew nothing the first time around. I was determined that I was going to have the ultimate experience, feel like more of a Mother than I ever had, and take this like a champion. I came, I saw, I conquered... and I did a little bit of yelling, crying, and a lot of doubting myself. But we went to the hospital with the intentions of having a baby. And by George, we did.

I was SO worried I would not make it in time I had myself convinced that we should have been at the hospital hours before we arrived. "The second one comes so much faster"... "If you don't have an epidural your labor will go so quickly"... At 10:00 pm they broke my water, and each CM of labor seemed to come and go with little troubles- contractions, yes they were there though. I worked up to 8 CM and felt like a champion. I was breathing it out, walking around, laboring if you will :D In true Lee-Grice fashion we had a huge party there awaiting the arrival of our sweet baby who, at this point, we still didn't know if it was a fella or a gal. My parents, my sister, my in-laws- which included my BIL and SIL, were all there laughing, talking, falling asleep, and supporting me through this process.

Then it started to become more labor less laboring. Wow, it sure did hurt. It didn't help that my cervix was not sitting properly and the nurse had to "help it" along during my contractions. I know at one point I said very loudly "You are HURTING me!"- and she was... From 8 to 10 CM to pushing felt like the shortest-longest time in my life. I was in pain, it was a blur, then I was pushing, trying to catch a breath, pushing again, then there was a baby! My baby was here! I had done it... and I was EXHAUSTED!!! They let me hold him right away and I felt that huge rush that can't be compared to anything in life. WE DID IT! 

I am so thankful my hubby was able to be there with me (not that there was ever a reason he wouldn't, unless we go back to my fear of hardly making it to the hospital- in which he would be at work/the store/playing basketball and would not make it before the baby did :D), crying more than I did, holding my hand, and thank goodness keeping pretty quiet but super supportive. He cut the cord, cried a little more, then went to check on our new little guy. And I was left to finish the job, the labor. I just wanted to take a second and compose myself- I wasn't crying- I was sweating, and I was so out of breath! There were a few loose ends to tie up, a few things to get us to the actual finish line- and those were not pleasant either... and I felt every bit of them.

Finally I was clean, he was clean, and he was alllll mine to kiss, snuggle and fall in love with. But it was still a little hazy. I was there, but it felt like I was watching the whole thing. I could feel my heart overflowing but I could also feel my eyes getting heavy. It was a rush like no other. The pain is something you can't even remember that same day though. I know it was the worst pain ever, but the negative feelings pass so quickly. 

Comparing it to Cooper's delivery- I arrived at the hospital at 6 CM, received my epidural, pushed for a little while, had the baby, loved the baby right away, and felt nothing. I felt no different after having my epi-baby than I did with my natural birthed baby as far as love for him or that overwhelming Mommy urge. I did in fact feel like I could enjoy the moments after birth more with the epidural- you don't notice so much the follow-up tasks that are going on while you are loving on that sweet bundle. I feel like just as much of a Mom now as I did then, and it makes me feel wonderful that I didn't short change myself on the experience the first go round. I love them both with an overflowing heart and drugs or not they were my whole world from the first moment we met.

The Mom Lottery .

Mom.

You don't get to choose her.

One day you just squeeze your way out from between two legs or a doctor pulls you through some ladies guts and out of a big cut in her stomach. 

TaDa!!!

There you are. On stage.

It's really bright and everyone is watching you.

You don't know what else to do so you just start screaming for help.

Then, if you're fortunate, that lady who just sent you sliding out of her womb picks you up and shoves her breast in your mouth.

Wait! What?

Who is this lady?

You never even had a chance to do a background check.

A meet and greet.

Mom speed dating. 

You know...10 mom options. 

You get to sit down for 5 minutes with each of them, pepper them with questions and pick the one who seems the most compatible.

Nothing.

It's a lot like the lottery.

You get what you get and you're stuck with it. That is, if she even wants you.

If she doesn't want you, you can't go back into that nice comfy womb. You just get put on hold and you don't even get to watch the clear plastic container of balls dancing in the gale force wind, while you wait for your number to be called.

If she does want you there is still no guarantee that you should actually want her to want you. Last I checked, there is no such thing as a mom license. Are you going to a good home where you will be loved and nurtured the way a baby is supposed to be loved and nurtured? Many mothers bring their beautiful babies home to the safety of their nest with the best of intentions only to fail miserably.

Take the mother bird from "Are You My Mother" for example. Motherhood looked bad on that mama bird from the jump. First, she managed to find a way to miss the birth of her baby. Second, she let her baby fall from the top of a tall tree. And as if that wasn't bad enough, the poor baby bird had to wander aimlessly for the first hour or so of his life thinking that a kitten, dog, hen, cow or perhaps the dreaded SNORT might actually be his mother. Poor baby! 

Luckily, that scary SNORT was a hero and returned the baby bird to the nest and the mama bird was none the wiser. She didn't even know that she had already failed miserably. Ignorance is bliss, right?
Like anything else in this world, mothers come in all shapes, sizes and forms. Just because you are a mom doesn't mean you are a good one.

Anyway, back to the Lottery.

I've never won the lottery we play today at convenience stores with miniature pencils like the ones you get at putt putt golf courses and tiny scan tron like pieces of paper with rectangles full of numbers. I've never come close.

However, I did win the "Mom Lottery" some 34 years ago and something tells me that the odds of winning that are even more slim than the lottery we play today. The stakes are definitely higher.

Have you ever sat back and really thought about it?

Be careful if you haven't. It can be a lot like plugging in one too many kitchen appliances into the same outlet. 

Boom.

Overload.

Someone needs to go flip a breaker.

How much of who you are today is a reflection of your mother?

There are a plethora of women near your mothers age that could have ended up being your mom yet your mom ended up being your mom.

I know. When I put it like that it sounds silly...and No, I'm not on drugs... unless you consider sweet tea a drug. In that case, I'm sitting at my computer high as a kite on sweet tea typing a blog post about how mind blowing it is that my mom is my mom.

Boy. She must be proud.

Seriously though, I'm not sure what your situation is with your mother but for me it truly is mind bottling (or mind boggling for those of you who aren't familiar with Chaz Michael Michaels) to think about how blessed I am in the Mom department. I was born into this world to a mom who would literally do anything for me. She's disciplined yet forgiving. She's tough yet kind and understanding. She's like a finely tuned, well rounded athlete with a highly developed craft and her craft is motherhood... and she's good at every aspect of it. It's like I got the Bruce Jenner of moms.

Wait a minute. You have to remember that I was born in 1980. Back then Bruce was a man. I mean, he was THE man. Not only a man but THE man. On the Wheaties box, might I add, a highly trained Olympic male athlete at the top of his game.

My mom is THE MAN... but she's a woman. Now that I think about it, she may be the exact opposite of Bru... nevermind.

 I'm Sorry. This is going nowhere fast. Yet another bad comparison on my part.

Carrying on...

In all seriousness, if you read my blog frequently you know that I go on about my relationship with my dad constantly and my mom often takes a back seat. That's only because my dad and I are both sports addicts with a whole lot in common and a lot to talk about. I wont let dad high jack this post mom. This one is for you.

 In reality, my mother is the one thing in this world that I am most grateful for, including my wife and kids. I was able to choose my wife. I've been able to influence and mold my children. I had absolutely NO SAY in who my mom was going to be though. If it weren't for my mom's example of what a wife and mom should be I wouldn't know what qualities to look for in a wife/mother of my children. I wouldn't know how important it was to find a woman: 

• whose priorities are faith and family
• who understands the love and nurturing children require
• who holds her husband accountable with just the right amount of patience and understanding
•  who prays with her children
•  who goes the extra mile to teach the things that some let slip through the cracks
• who is capable of staying at home with the kids or providing for her family depending on what life asks of her.
• who is honest and stands behind her word
• who loves her husband and leaves no room for doubt
• who willingly sacrifices what ever it takes for her children's well being

ETC.

I could go on all night.

My mother possesses all of these qualities and many more.

What did I ever do to deserve a Mother like this?

When we were young my mom was a stay at home mom. As we got older things changed and she had to go to work full time so she delivered mail for the next 20 years. She adjusted. She sacrificed. She went with the flow of life with a smile on her face.

She was the spiritual leader of our household. She made sure we woke up and went to Church. She dragged my lazy butt out of bed every single day for school. Because of her I had perfect attendance from Kindergarten through 12th grade, which is no easy task, just ask her. All these years I thought it was something fantastic that I had done. She's the one who did all the work. She deserves the credit.

 To this day I still don't know how she did it. After I went to sleep she stayed up cleaning my filthy baseball uniform. I was the dirtiest kid on the team always sliding head first every chance I got but come the next game I was the cleanest kid, for a few minutes anyway. That woman could work mind blowing magic on a dirty baseball uniform and she still woke me up in time to get to school the next morning after putting in the over time. If it wasn't a baseball uniform it was a school project. She would NOT let us get a bad grade, even if we had to stay up all night.

We used to... who am I kidding... we still always give my mom grief because she can fall asleep anywhere at the drop of a hat. The couch... a red light...Church...the bath...the toilet...the middle of a conversation... it doesn't matter, Mom can fall asleep anywhere.

Mom was notorious for staying up all night wrapping Christmas presents. She was always dozing off on Christmas day. One year my brother and I got a Sega Genesis for Christmas. When we were done opening presents we decided it was time to play the Sega. There was only one problem. We didn't get any games. After a couple days of searching the house we found them in my Grandma's closet. Santa must have hidden them there. Another year mom lost the turkey altogether.

One time when my mom dozed off sitting up on the couch my brother and I decided it would be a good idea to start putting change on her face to see how much we could get on there before she woke up. We went to my dad's change drawer and grabbed a hand full of pennies, dimes and nickels and went to work. I'm not positive but I think there may be a picture of this floating around somewhere. I'll have to ask dad. Mom wasn't too happy with us when she awoke to a change face avalanche.

Anyway, I bring all of this up to say that we should have just cut mom some slack. We should have just let her catch up on her sleep. I don't think my brother and I realized why she was so exhausted all the time. The woman devoted every second of her life to raising and providing for my two older sisters, my brother and me and she didn't care how much sleep she lost doing it. She was forgetful and she was chronically exhausted but more than anything, she was DEVOTED to her family. She still is.


Because of her example I was able to recognize these same qualities in my wife when I met her. My dad recognized them too. We met her on the same day and only hours after meeting her he told me that I needed to marry her one day. When all my friends told me it wasn't time to settle down, I knew better. I knew I'd be missing out on a woman who shared so many amazing qualities with my mom.

That type of woman doesn't come around every day.

Now, because I won the Mom Lottery I've also won the Wife Lottery and therefore my sons have also won the Mom Lottery. What a beautiful cycle. I hope it continues. I hope one day my boys find their own little minds blown, their own little breakers flipped, when they attempt to wrap their heads around the fact that they ended up with the amazing mother they have, because she is amazing too. Would you like to know how I know?

Because my mom tells me all the time.

How did I end up with a wonderful mother like this?

How did my kids end up with a wonderful mother like this?

I'll tell you how...

My genius dad chose them both.

Ha.

Happy Mother's Day to all you Moms out there, especially to my mom and the mother of my boys.

We love you guys.

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How I bottled up that Christmas morning feeling in the month of April.

Christmas as a child was the most magical thing in the world. The most magical thing I can remember, anyway. I grew up in a middle class family but my parents always found a way to make sure we had more than what we wanted and way more than what we needed for Christmas. They had a close personal friendship with Santa Claus. I'm sure that probably had something to do with it.

I always loved the lights and the tree and all the Christmas traditions we had but let's face it, I was a kid and kids love presents. PRESENTS!!!! I'll never forget the feeling of waking up on Christmas morning; the excitement and anticipation of what was waiting for me under that tree. If you celebrate Christmas I'm sure you remember what it was like.

"What could it possibly be?"

 "Did Santa bring me what I asked for?"

"Come on Mom and Dad! Wake up! Let's do this!"

...and then I opened the presents. I don't ever remember being disappointed. There may have been slight disappointment here or there when I opened new socks but I was pretty easy to please and I don't THINK I EVER asked for too much. (I probably asked for too much every year.)

The most memorable gift my brother and I ever got was probably this giant G.I. JOE aircraft carrier that seemed to take up half of the living room. We played with that thing non stop and let our imaginations run wild. Oh man! It was great! Always great!

However, every Christmas toy I ever received inevitably got old and I got tired of playing with them. 

Every single one. 

Even the G.I. JOE aircraft carrier.

 I know. Sounds crazy; hard to believe. I bet you're telling yourself now as an adult that if you had a giant toy aircraft carrier that took up half your living room you would play with it every day and you would never get sick of it but I'm here to tell you that's simply not true. I understand. To be honest, as I'm sitting here typing this I've halfway convinced myself that if I had another G.I. JOE aircraft carrier that things would be different this time but experience tells me otherwise. I'd end up selling it again to make space. Hopefully for a lot more money this time.

Even the new bike gets old. The new football gets old. The My Buddy doll (please tell me you remember this). The new Nintendo, Sega Genesis or Play Station... 

you guessed it: 

GETS OLD. They ALL do.

There's always next year right?

If only there was a way to bottle that magical feeling of Christmas morning. 

What if I could dip my toys in the fountain of youth? What if a toy manufacturer finally came along and discovered a way to make a toy that never lost its luster? Is it possible? Could I wake up one morning and experience that magical Christmas morning feeling every day for the rest of my life?

Unfortunately, I never found a way to bottle up and experience that feeling every day as a child. Nope. Once a year and that was it. I had to wait 364 days for that feeling again. 

That's the bad news.

The good news is, now that I am an adult, I finally figured it out. Yep. After years and years of ideas, research, failed inventions and disappointment, I figured it out. Like a mad scientist I finally found the proper combination of ingredients to yield that good old fashioned Christmas morning feeling year round. My very own Frankenstein. Scratch that. That is a horrible comparison and it's not really true.

 I gave up on figuring it out long ago and then I finally stumbled upon it on April 3rd, 2011 with the help of my wife. We were able to repeat it on April 27, 2013. What can I say? April is a good month for us. We thought about moving our Christmas celebration to April but decided against it. That would just be unorthodox overkill.

By now you've probably figured out what this perfect gift that captures that Christmas morning feeling is

or

If you have children, you figured it out a long time ago.

MY BOYS.

How come on one ever told me?

People always told me I could never understand what a parents love for a child was like until I experienced it for myself but no one ever told me that it made every single day feel like Christmas morning and that I was going to wake up excited and full of anticipation for what each and every day with them held (and it would never wear off). It's a good thing no one ever put it to me like that or I probably would have gone out and knocked up the first broad I saw so I could get my hands on one of these real life "My Buddy" dolls...and that surely would have ended badly. ;)

 I just want to wake up and play with these perfect evergreen Christmas toys all day. Okay, truth be told, I wake up and tip toe around the house trying with all my might NOT to wake them up. That part is much different than Christmas morning. However, the second they do wake up or the second I walk in the door from work, we get down like it's Christmas morning, minus the turkey and stockings. I don't know what else to compare it to. It's the best feeling in the world.

Sure, they get older by the day but not in the way a toy does or any other feeling I've experienced in life. Their luster shines brighter by the day as you mold their malleable brain into the beginning of what you hope turns out to be a masterpiece. Four years into parenthood and I'd say they age more like a fine wine getting better by the year. Plus, I get a better buzz off of spending time with these little trouble makers than I could get from any wine.

I understand that not all parents feel this way about their children and that breaks my heart. I truly hope that as you read this you nod your head in agreement if you are a parent. If you didn't, I hope you can figure out why not and make a change to help get you there because they deserve to be loved like a child loves his favorite new toy on Christmas morning and you deserve to be able to share that love with them for as long as you both live. I have not experienced anything in this world that compares to pouring your whole self into a child. That quality time is irreplaceable.

If you do not have a child and you are reading this please do not go out and make one with the first person you meet because of what you read here. Trust me. It's worth the wait and you will be more equipped to handle these amazing gifts with a little age on you. I'll warn you, they are not exactly "better" than Christmas gifts in every way. I'd guess that it's safe to assume you never had a Christmas gift that:

• actually cost YOU thousands of dollars just to bring home
•  woke you up 5 times in the night by screaming (night after night.)
• spit up a terribly stinky substance on you 37 times in the first 6 months you had it
• pooped or peed on you
• demanded your attention at all times that it wasn't sleeping 

...and that's just to name a few and you still got tired of these toys. Yet somehow these babies that become a full time job just make every day better and better.

Just a few hours ago at bedtime I told my 4 year old that I loved him and he replied:

"I love you too Daddy and don't forget, your ideas change the world."

I'm sure he got it from some movie or TV show and he probably doesn't even know what it means but it melted my heart and inspired me to write this blog post. I had him repeat it so I could have it on video to watch if I was ever having a bad day.

Truth is, in the grand scheme of things, I haven't had a "bad day" since he was born. Every day has been like Christmas. At one point before he was born he was nothing more than a possibility... an IDEA in my head. I guess my ideas do change the world... and for the better. They've changed my world anyway.

"Daddy, can you turn around?" (The most interesting selfie I have ever taken)

Traveling with children can present many different kinds of challenges. While I'm not prepared to jump into all of those challenges just yet, I'd like to share one that snuck up behind me on a layover at the Los Angeles airport last week as my family and I headed to Hawaii for vacation.

This little incident led to the most interesting selfie I have ever taken.

We were in a bit of a hurry to reach our connecting flight, but not too rushed. We grabbed a quick bite to eat and headed on the way to our gate. Cooper, my 4 year old, had to go potty so we scampered to the closest men's room as he informed me that we were talking about the #2 variety.

We were in a cramped stall together. I got him all set up with toilet paper on the seat and everything. That's when he asked me to turn around. This is normal procedure when he's sitting on a public potty.

The boy needs his privacy. He always has.

He always asks us to leave the bathroom when we are at home because he likes to do his business alone but he knows that's not going to happen in a public restroom. So, I turned around and faced the door, still in the stall. I took out my phone to look at some pictures I had taken on our previous flight.

That's when the potty flushed all by itself. The automatic flusher must not have registered that Cooper was still on the potty because he's so small. At this point in his life, I'm not sure there's much of anything thats scarier to Cooper than a loud, unexpected, flushing potty. Coop was so concerned that the flush would be loud that he put both hands over his ears.

Right then I felt something hit me in the back of the left leg. It took me a couple seconds to realize exactly what it was. It was warm and it was running down my leg into my sock...

"Point it down Coop! Point it down..."

I exclaimed as I turned around to see Cooper covering his ears for dear life...and peeing on his dad's leg, of course.

We looked at each other & I couldn't help but start laughing. Cooper started cracking up. I tried to explain to him that it's not really funny and we should never ever pee on people.

I just couldn't keep a straight face. Eventhough it was a major inconvenience the giggles just got a hold of me. The look on the poor boy's face definitely had something to do with it.

So, I told him that it was only funny because it was an accident, which probably wasn't the best parenting in the world but hey, I never claimed to be a perfect parent.

I let him finish up and I took him to his 

mom before I went back in the bathroom to throw away my socks and scrub my 

left leg (from the back of the knee down) in the sink with soap and hot water. 

That's when I noticed myself in the mirror and thought, "When will I ever have a better reason to take a selfie?!"

8 or 10 people walked in and looked at me like I was crazy. One pair of socks and a few odd looks later I realized the lesson at hand.... never turn your  back on a loaded weapon.

Four days later and I've heard this question at least five times:

"Hey Dad, is this potty a flusher?!?!"

At least he's thinking ahead.

Aloha.