All I really wanted to do was go on a little bike ride. I figured we would take the boys to the park and let them play awhile. January evenings in Phoenix can be quite accommodating, so several families were out enjoying the end of another 80 degree day. With all the children and activity, I hardly noticed the little scamp of a canine running around the park…but Ethan did. He and I had seen a couple stray dogs a few days earlier when we were at another neighborhood park. We tried to corral them and locate any identification or contact information for them, but they evaded us. They looked like they had been on the run for a while. Ethan wasn’t too impressed by those dogs… they were fairly large and somewhat aggressive, though not towards him. We talked a little about the kind of dog we should get “one day” and we decided it wouldn’t be a yappy dog or a “jump on you” dog, but outside of those criterion, we didn’t really nail down a description. But, as I was pushing Ethan on the swings and looking around to see what Jaden and Dillon were up to, Ethan made a comment that I dismissed. “That’s the kind of dog we want daddy” he told me as he watched the little black dog run across the park. “I will pet it. That is a good dog.” I watched the dog scamper away from the children pursuing it and told him something about maybe trying to pet the dog once he was done swinging. He was fine with that and did not mention it again.

I took a look at the dog as Ethan and I walked over to the slides. It was scraggly and small. This was not the kind of dog I was interested in having. I’ve imagined our family dog on several occasions, and in no scenario did the dog resemble this one. I shook my head. Poor dog. Running around looking haggard and hungry. Many of the children attempted to play with it, but it wouldn’t let anyone close. I don’t know what made Ethan think that was the kind of dog he would want to pet, let alone have to keep… I let it go. We played a while longer…the little stray dog blended into the background and out of my mind. And then came the Fruit Loop.

I walked in the direction of the scruffy little pup and tried to formulate my capture plan. I figured I would get down low and offer the treat and then grab the collar to check for some contact information. Then I noticed the collar… it was brown leather with white rhinestones in the shape of doggy bones… seriously? This was certainly not the kind of dog we were going to get. I ran back through my arguments for getting a pit bull… or at least a lab. There had to be a way to sell Kendra on the idea.

The little sparkly collar dog was not the least bit interested in my cereal bait. I tried a couple more times and was ready to give up. The dog started running off to the other end of the park. Then the little girl upped the pressure. She started walking after the bedazzled mongrel and her little sister followed suit. They both looked back at me as they pressed on. “I think her name is ‘Mercedes’. I saw her collar earlier and I think that was her name.” I began to walk slowly with them as I tried to let the dog build a head start. “Mercedes”? Please.

I kept the dog in my vision but allowed it to gain ground ahead of us. I didn’t want to play chase all night, but I also didn’t want the dog to get hurt. Traffic around the park was picking up, and the little import was getting close to the streets. “I hope she don’t get hit by a ca-ah”. The little sister played the guilt card. I picked up my pace a little. Little sister broke out the “ca-ah” line again, but this time she choked a little bit and leaned into her big sister. I knew I wasn’t leaving that park without knowing that dog was safe somewhere. I have never felt more relieved that I did not have little girls than I did at that moment. I would be a mess.

The dog stopped at the edge of the sidewalk and we were able to catch up to her. I tried the Fruit Loop again. This time, she darted into the street. Great. Now cars were stopping in either direction as this little black dog with the sparkly boned collar played Frogger and weaved between and beneath the cars. I gave chase and directed traffic under the close supervision of the worried sisters. Finally, the chase ended as an unsuspecting motorist stopped her car to make sure she didn’t hit the dog. As she stepped out of her vehicle to see where the pup went, the dog jumped into the car and under the feet of the woman’s son who was riding in the passenger seat. Another driver stopped to help us as we tried to coax the dog out of the car, but it was of no use. We were able to locate a phone number on the dog collar, but when I placed a call, it went straight to voicemail.

One of the ladies remarked that she had seen this dog running the streets in the area for at least a week. I left a message on the voicemail and we stood around waiting for one of us to volunteer to take the dog home while we waited to hear from the owners.  I was not in a hurry to volunteer to take the dog home. Kendra is allergic to most dogs, and tiny dogs named Mercedes wearing jewel encrusted collars were not really my style…but we had to do something. I figured maybe I would keep her in the backyard until we straightened things out with her owners. Poor thing. At least it would be safe.

So, the lady followed me and Jaden home (we rode our bikes; she drove slowly behind), and we got the dog into the backyard. Jaden made a friend with the little boy while his mom and I got the dog situated in the backyard. We left Logan in charge of the dog. I placed another phone call and left another message, then we drove back to pick up Kendra and the other boys. It was getting dark.

The sisters walked by with their mom as we loaded up the bikes. I let them know we had the dog safely in our backyard. Fruit Loop looked up at me. “I saw another dog running around on the other side of the park”. I averted my eyes. I could not be sucked in again. “I think I caught my limit today”. I ducked my head and hurried to the driver side door. I glanced around but didn’t see any other dogs. Whew.

The plan was to let the dog stay in the backyard as we hunted down her owners. I placed calls. I left messages. We looked on websites. We drove through neighborhoods looking for postings. Nothing. I left a final message begging the people to call me back. I let them know I couldn’t keep the dog and that I would have no choice but to take her to a shelter the next day. That was the plan. But it was getting cold…and the dog had been through so much…and she really was a good dog. She loved the boys. She warmed up to them right away. She didn’t yap. She didn’t jump on Ethan. She was a great dog.

We put out a blanket and let her come inside. We borrowed some dog food, some shampoo, and a brush from some friends. She needed to eat, and she needed a bath. We couldn’t put her back outside after a bath. She would freeze. I figured she would sleep in the laundry room, but she was so good that it would probably be okay if she just slept downstairs on her blanket. We had to address the dog in some way…but I could not bring myself to call her Mercedes. Kendra had the perfect compromise – Sadie. It sounded close enough so the dog might find it familiar. We tried it. It worked. Sadie it is.

We warned the kids before bed…if the owners call or we get a hold of them, we would have to give her back. They said they understood. They tried to keep their distance emotionally. But as they headed to bed, Dillon looked at me and said, “I do think she’s happy here though”. She did seem happy. She is a good dog.

I realized around 1am that I could not find the dog. Kendra joined me as I searched. We poked through Logan’s room (his was the only other bedroom door that was open). He looked up at us to inquire as to our activities. We told him we were looking for the dog. “You already lost the dog you just found?” Go back to sleep. I went back downstairs. Kendra went back into our room. “A-ha!” Kendra found her. She had curled up under our bed.

In the morning, Sadie would not come out from under the bed. I coaxed and called. Nothing. Then, when the boys came in they knelt beside the bed and called her. Out she came. Please don’t call…please don’t call.

We took Sadie to get checked out and ended up making some appointments for shots and grooming. The lady says she is some type of Terrier mix (I called that one) and that she is the kind of dog that has ‘hair’ instead of ‘fur’… the kind of dog that Kendra is not allergic to. Please don’t call…please don’t call!

The phone never rang. The boys have all but assumed total ownership of Sadie now. Jaden and Dillon tried to fight back smiles as they went to bed tonight knowing they would wake up tomorrow and see Sadie’s little black tail wagging in delight. They are in love with this dog… and I don’t think she’s too bad either.

We did get her a new collar…and a leash… and a food dish and a place mat and a frisbee…just in case she stays a while. I never saw it coming. But sometimes the places life takes us unexpectedly are far superior to the places we plan to go.

Thanks for coming along for the ride…

Right now I am remembering the days when our babies were small enough to stand on our laps and play. When they tried to balance on wobbly legs as they reached out to touch our faces…. maybe pinch a cheek or grab the nose. When they were all drool and wide eyes soaking up the world behind angelic faces and mops of hair. Right now the little girl is back to her bottle, and mom is probably thinking she is looking forward to getting her off of that thing one day. And she probably means it. Right now.

Right now the baby has a grasp on mommy’s wrist with one hand, and mommy’s thumb with the other. She is enjoying the bottle and drifting off to sleep. Off to dream baby dreams and enjoy her place on mommy’s lap, where she fits so comfortably. Right now. And I miss my boys. And I remember watching Kendra hold them for the first time. And I remember Logan calling me “dad” for the first time. And I remember knowing my life had changed so much for the better. I am so proud of all our sons and their development in life so far. I just sometimes wish I could go back and hold on to those moments… hold on to them… instead of just holding on to memories…. like right now.

Right now Logan is almost done with his first day of high school. Jaden and Dillon are now second-graders. Right now this mom is several years away from having to deal with saying those good-byes. Right now she won’t have to worry about planning the right things to say, but somehow getting caught up in the rush of a morning and not quite getting the right words out in just the right way. She won’t have to worry if they all went off into their new environments armed with the message she hoped to deliver….not right now.

Right now the little girl has fought off sleep. She is rubbing her eyes and picking at a new wafer. Mom is yawning. Right now she’d probably like them both to get some rest. But right now she is enjoying her daughter. Maybe she realizes how quickly all this will pass. Maybe she understands how much she will appreciate this moment some day. Maybe she realizes she is sitting among other parents who would give anything to hold their babies in their laps again… or have their children with them on this flight. Right now.

Baby has droopy eyes. Sleep will have its victory soon. But she is managing to smile through it right now. Logan and Jaden and Dillon are off facing new challenges and learning to handle their new experiences. They are focused on the events of their days. But as they go, whether they realize it or not, they remain in my and Kendra’s hearts and minds. Not only today, but every day…. and especially right now.

Thanks for coming along for the ride….

Kiss your kids

I was sitting one evening at the kitchen table  following up on emails and checking data when I got the call from the living room. Jaden and Dillon were lying on the floor about to watch a show, and Jaden gave the order. He popped up from in front of the couch and gave the patented furrowed brow, lowered head, raised eyed-scowl and stated firmly, “Dad, stop working!” Well then. I knew this was no time to argue. I took my place on the floor and ultimately lost myself in their world of imagination and goofiness. I love that they will call me out when I’m spending too much time on things that matter too little. I hope that they continue to care enough to do it… but more importantly, I am working to keep it in mind enough so they don’t have to. In order to assist myself to that end, I decided to add a sub list to number 10 so I can be mindful of the things that help make the time the time worth spending…

10a. building Legos… watching their minds work as they contemplate new creations, seeing the breakthrough moments, helping them apply different approaches to building, and seeing the pride in their accomplishments…fantastic

10b. playing Wii… the new Super Mario Bros. is an addiction (but not the cause of my hiatus). working with Logan, Jaden, and Dillon to conquer the levels and locate the secret passages provides many opportunities for providing constructive support and demonstrating patience with one another… i used the word “opportunities”, we have some work to do (myself included). Wii boxing with Jaden (nasty right hook); Wii baseball with Dillon (still can’t hit his sinker); Guitar Heroes with Logan (loves to show his skills on “Story of my life”); and Ethan, he is still at the age where he is fairly content holding the controller while we convince him he is either helping us out or is playing the role of an uncontrollable character in the game (e.g. Red Toad in Super Mario)

10c. reading books… Ethan is a Sandra Boynton fanatic, as were his brothers before him… and i cannot recall a day in the past few weeks where either Kendra or i (or both several times) have not read “A fly went by” to him. he gets so involved; acting out the words or chiming in on his favorite parts… it is always an active event. 

10d. talking… love to hear their thoughts on anything. they all have brilliant minds.

10e. vacations…they are great road trippers… even when i added 2 hours to our return trip from San Diego because i went on a snipe hunt to find them a funnel cake stand (which we never found) and then missed our exit to the freeway because we were too busy talking about how insane it was that we drove all over the city only to find an abandoned office in an industrial park that looked like it might have been the headquarters of a funnel cake company at one time. but on the plus side, they did get to see Mexico, or at least they would have if they had looked up from their video games. 

10f. anything…doing anything with them, even if it’s doing nothing, is time well spent. Got to love that face time…

Thanks for coming along for the ride…

The boys will have a new teacher. Life has called Mr. and Mrs. Robbins away to North Carolina. Mr. Robbins went ahead early. Mrs. Robbins stayed until the break. Then Jaden and Dillon had to say goodbye for now…and so did we. Our family forged a strong relationship with Mr. and Mrs. Robbins. We’ve been on the inside of that moving van several times. Now we’re the ones standing in the street waving and watching the taillights disappear over the horizon. It hurts like hell to drive away, but it sure feels hopeless standing there watching the van pull away. We haven’t lost a friend. But we’ve certainly lost an ally. I tell myself that part of this was inevitable, really. The boys would have graduated from 1st grade in a few months and moved on to 2nd grade.They would’ve met a new teacher and adjusted to the new environment. Kendra and I will still need to engage with that teacher and stay involved in the classroom. We would still have to create a new ally. That’s what I say. But that doesn’t really cover it, and the boys are losing more than a teacher.

Mrs. Robbins was part of their everyday world. She would come over to the house and watch shows with Kendra. She would listen intently to them as they described (in great detail) their adventures in Lego Star Wars and Indiana Jones games over dinner. She even jumped with them on the trampoline! This is significant. Invitations onto the trampoline are typically extended to dads (men) because the boys feel we can make them jump higher. Outside of Kendra, Mrs. Robbins is only the 2nd woman to have a standing invitation to jump with them. Point being, if you are not a dad and they want you on the trampoline, it is because they think you are fun and they like having you around. Some people’s love Language is Physical Touch, other people’s Love Language is Words of Affirmation. Jaden’s and Dillon’s Love Language is Trampoline.

Our boys are not the only kids in the class to feel this way. So many of them have personal connections with Mrs. Robbins. There were many sad faces and wet little eyes when the announcement was made. Mr. Robbins was a very unpopular man that day. But change is change. We find the positives and manage it the best way we can. The miles are there between us. So we stay in touch. Jaden and Dillon will play and enjoy the rest of their Spring Break…the boys have made note of the fact that Mr. and Mrs. Robbins will be visiting during the last week of school. Maybe they’ll be driving a van.

Thanks for coming along for the ride… Kiss your kids!

We spent the holiday on Monday running around together. And as I watched the boys and searched their actions for any hints or signs of internal fire, I contemplated the great many contributions of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., I asked myself “What if he didn’t share his dream? What if he hadn’t heeded the call to service and followed the convictions of his heart?” There were way too many possibilities for me to fully explore… I was just certain that the absence of his patience and diplomacy; his strength and courage; and his vision and hope during that important time would have drastically affected the civil rights movement. The echoes of his work and his inspiration have circled the globe several times over. Could someone else have carried that torch? Might other groups or individuals have surfaced at later points that could have put us back on or near the path he blazed? Maybe, maybe not; of course it’s impossible to say. I can’t fully imagine the world had he not followed his heart; I can only say I am glad to know the reality that exists today because he did. And as I contemplated the prospect of Dr. King not following his fire, I began to run through the same exercise with other prominent figures in history and the potential bleakness that might have been…then on to a smaller scale…to me; to my sons.

I believe we all have God-given talents and abilities. I don’t know that they are always revealed in ways we expect or at times we find convenient. They may not be the talents or gifts we would have preferred to receive or any that we find immediately useful…but they are what they need to be, and at times they may even be intended to serve others rather than ourselves. God lights fires within us to do certain things or to walk certain paths…call it passion; call it heart; call it drive… however you associate with it or relate to it, it is the unquenchable fire that moves you toward a specific goal. Sometimes those fires align with your talents and abilities. Sometimes those fires shine as passion’s bright lights to attract the people with the right talents and abilities to you in order to get things accomplished. So I watch them in hopes of catching a glimpse of a flicker of the flame… to help them recognize it within themselves, and to harness the fire and help to focus and guide it if I can.

Passions and enthusiasms ebb and flow, but once that fire is lit, it remains constantly within when the other interests fade. It can’t be ignored, but it can be denied. I don’t want them to live with the regrets of not following through and wondering what could have been if they had devoted their lives to developing their talents and fueling their fires. Langston Hughes captures the concept in A Dream Deferred. He suggests that even if the “dream” (or fire) can be disregarded, it will remain in some form as a reminder in its “deferred” state…even to the point of explosion; potentially consuming it’s carrier. No… I’d rather they embrace whatever it is at the moment of recognition and hold on tightly down whatever corridors that path takes them. If God lights the fire, He will light the way.

I love to write. I always have. I am drawn to it… it is my fire. I received some advice once…well, several times through many iterations of the same conversation with various parties. It was sound advice. It was simple. It took me a few years to hear it, but I finally heard it.  The conversation(s) went like this:

Me: “I really want to write. I feel like that is what I should be doing.”

Friend: “So write.”

Me: “No, you don’t understand… it’s complicated. I can’t just write. I don’t have a lot of time, I work too much, there’s no money in it, excuse, excuse, excuse…”

Friend: “But, you feel like you have to write? like you should be writing?”

Me: “Yeah.”

Friend: “Hmm. So write.”

So right. I have to write. I may never make a living writing, but I’ve stopped making excuses for not doing it. I will encourage them to follow whatever their passions describe, and pray they have the courage to stay the course. I am eternally grateful for those conversations and for that message. It is what I will say to my sons when they tell me about their fire. So write. So sing. So cure. So think. So run. So help. So teach. So preach. So heal. So fight. So move… So live.

Thank you for coming along for the ride…

One of the many blessings of having kids in ages from toddler to teenager is having the ever-present reminder that “Dad’s Little Helper”, while a highly prestigious and sought after position early on, quickly becomes the job no one wants to take or hold for very long as the kids grow older. Logan was fantastic as an assistant bicycle mechanic. He was an expert seed thrower and jr. landscape artist. But now… the other day, I asked him to sweep the front walkway because we had people coming over and everyone was tasked with something to help out; he obliged, but I believe the word he used was “exploitation”, or some derivative thereof.

Jaden spent about 20 minutes washing dishes the other day. Both he and Dillon rush to help me pull weeds, hang pictures, fix chairs, and change AC filters. Ethan loves to help empty the dishwasher and help sweep. Dillon and Jaden used to help me make pancakes almost every weekend. Now they just help out every now and then. They’ve passed a lot of the pancake helper opportunities down to Ethan, who is a permanent fixture in the kitchen when I’m making pancakes or when Kendra is baking anything. He is in full blown “Little Helper” mode and is trying to climb that corporate ladder as quickly as his little Pumas will take him. The twins have reached the executive office level and feel like they need to start branching out. They do enjoy being BBQ/Grilling assistants though… I think it’s the lure of the fire. The danger factor plays well with them. They are looking forward to helping me take the Tiger Saw to the Christmas tree.

Yep, these days just fly… I document these things not to brag, but as evidence that these times did indeed exist, because in a few years it may not seem even remotely possible… but also to remind myself not to be impatient or get frustrated by the “help” that I receive, because the help won’t last long. My jr. executives will venture on just as the previous administration did. Ethan will ascend to the high ranks and shortly afterwards, he too will depart. So, it isn’t just the loss of my illustrator, but the eventual vacancies that will exist in all the helper categories that make me want to appreciate every one of the little things they do today.

Thanks for coming along for the ride…

I came downstairs with Jaden and made  him breakfast while I continued to contemplate the new year. I stepped out into the front walkway and stared up into the clear blue sky. The morning sun was warm and a cool thin layer of air breezed around me like a sheer curtain. It felt like music. That seemed like the right type of beginning. I went back inside and watched Jaden finish his breakfast. I figured I would create a few new playlists since music appeared to be the theme of the day. Jaden and Dillon had grown quite fond of a few tracks on some CDs I’d received, so I decided to pull the music together for them on my iPod. I was feeling very good about this musical morning.

The boys were sitting on the couch listening to the tracks and a song they hadn’t heard came on. I was curious about their reaction to it, so I watched them closely as it played. They sat fairly still and just listened… about halfway through, Jaden walked over to the iPod and clicked the wheel. I wasn’t sure if he was going to change the song or if he was just curious about the title. He stood there for a while and listened. When the song ended, I started it over again for him. They both just sat quietly through the song… three more times.

In the afternoon, we loaded up the boys and a CD and and set off to my brother’s (and sister-in-law’s) house. We listened to the boys’ new musical infatuation Wavin’ flag a couple of times back to back, and suddenly I heard a sound from the backseat that tied together the thoughts and sensations of the day. It was Dillon’s voice. He was signing along to the chorus with a passion and conviction that sent my mind down a path. Hearing his voice attached to those lyrics spun me… I got choked up and even veered a bit from my lane.

The song touched him in some way and he found some association with the message. Clearly he has no direct awareness of or experience with the Somali civil war which is at the heart of the song, but he found great enjoyment in singing the lines. Dillon’s voice grew louder from the back seat, and Jaden’s joined in, ”when I get older, I will be stronger, they’ll call me freedom just like a wavin’ flag!” It made me think about the child in an environment  that felt too massive or complicated to control or overcome. I thought about the courage and the will that must burn inside that child and lets him know that the situation is temporary and the environment can be changed, and that the child himself possesses the ability and strength to effect that change. It is amazing, the fruits of change that God can cultivate from the smallest seeds of hope and faith in the darkest and most barren of places.

Now, our children have never known that kind of oppression or fear. The hardships of their days cannot compare to the atrocities that other children witness and are subjected to. But that doesn’t invalidate the obstacles and challenges our children will face along their respective paths. They will be required to be courageous. They will be challenged and tested. They will have to navigate change. All these on a scale that is relative and relevant to them. Hearing them sing the chorus did not make me envision them as children of war. Rather, it reminded me that while the struggles in the song are not their own, they still encounter situations where they need to choose whether or not to demonstrate courage… and I need to be making sure I am modeling that for them.

It reminded me that I have an opportunity and an obligation to be a beacon of strength for them so they can grow their own and head out into the world and make it better for their children. It reminded me that there are too many children that do not have a beacon, and so we need to make the most of what opportunities we have. I am a generation whose parents lived through a significant struggle for civil rights and the extension of basic human decency from one to another. That inferno, while not fully extinguished, burns quietly now, and perhaps with that so cooled the perception that courage was still a necessary part of the American life. Our generation had thrust upon us a different model for courage early in the new century, and so grew our resolve again. I am hoping to find more frequent opportunities to practice the virtue of courage, and ones that rely on smaller lessons. That was the clarity I gained by the time we pulled up next to the house.

There is always a demon to slay. As much as I hope there is no great obstacle facing the next generation, I know there has to be… or else what would they overcome? I feel like 2010 is a year that has a very bright outlook and is filled with limitless possibilities. I feel like paths will be available to be taken. I pray I have the courage to take the right steps. I pray you do too… so when our children get older, they will be stronger… they will have seen the fruits of the courage before them… and they can be the beacons of strength.

Thank you for coming along for the ride… kiss your kids!

Lately, Ethan will appear out of nowhere walking oddly… his chin tucked into his chest with his eyes raised barely high enough to see where he is going. He’ll be hunched over with a slight tilt to one side with his arms crossed or hands folded over a hip. Or, he will come streaking past inexplicably and try to avoid your line of sight. Once, he darted behind the Christmas tree and peeked out with his eyes bright and wide with “nothing to see here!” expression on his face. You know; inconspicuous things like that.

The first incident that stood out to me was with his new art easel. I had opened a box of chalk and placed a single pack in the chalk tub of his easel. Ethan wanted a second pack as well. Only one pack fit at a time, and the packs contained the same color chalk, so I told him no and put the chalk away. I leave for a few minutes and come back to see what Jaden and Dillon are up to, and I see Ethan standing behind the chalkboard side of his easel almost fully doubled over. At first I thought something might be wrong with him, but then it became very obvious that he was trying to keep me from seeing him. I stood still, and after a few seconds he peeked up to see if I was still there. His head rolled back and his big brown eyes appeared from behind the curls. He startled a bit and then flashed a sly smile. He remained bent over a bit and kept his arms folded over his chalk.

“Ethan, what do you have?”

“No daddy!”

“Ethan.”

“No daddy. My chalk!”

My first thought was just to grab the chalk from him and put it away in a higher location but I wasn’t sure that was going to result in any lesson other than “I am stronger than you” which I am pretty sure he had established. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to laugh or raise my voice, but watching his physical response to the situation made me opt for the lighter path. I decided to tell him why I only put one packet of chalk in the tub. I let him know that he could keep that pack of chalk and I would put the other pack back in the box since it was his new gift and I didn’t give him a chance to pick which chalk he wanted to use first. He knew he was doing something that he probably shouldn’t have and his behavior indicated that. I let it go at that. He put the chalk in the bin and I returned the other packet to the box… which was somehow lying in the middle of the pantry… and placed it in a much more secure location.

We’ve had a few more incidents since then… mainly involving candy canes… but each time, we are measured in our reactions. If it is something he didn’t ask for, he needs to ask and he may or may not get whatever it is. If it is something he asked for and was told no, he loses it immediately. So far, he has willingly relinquished whatever he has been found to have and is doing it more as playful gesture now than as an act of deviousness. He is pushing the envelope and exploring his boundaries. The reaction he gets when he does what he is not supposed to is simple correction and redirection. There isn’t a lot of emotion and animation. There is no fun in him trying to elicit that response. He sees that the main reaction he gets from us is laughter when he does those things in a silly manner and praise when he does things well so that is what he likes to recreate. I would rather he become accustomed to my laughter and smile than to the sound of my anger.

I really credit Kendra with us taking this approach… that wasn’t the approach my brother and I experienced, and it wasn’t what I came to the table willing or ready to try right off. I had a hard time when we started doing this type of thing with Jaden and Dillon. I really didn’t feel the need to explain myself to my kids when I told them not to do something. It seemed ridiculous to talk through the rationale behind my actions or decisions. But, when I started to do that, I realized that I really didn’t have any rationalization behind a lot of my “rules” and that I was just enforcing things for the sake of having control over things I didn’t really need to control. They have responded well with the trust we’ve placed in them and I think it has helped me be a better parent. We draw lines where lines need to be drawn, and they don’t have to make judgments about which rules are the really important ones and which ones they can break.

It isn’t easy. I continually struggle with maintaining that focus; especially if I am tired or stressed out. But those are the times when it is probably most important that I stay consistent. I have slipped, but I’ve also apologized when I approached a situation in a way I shouldn’t have. That is never fun… but I know the boys appreciate it. Being a man is not about being perfect, but it is about accountability and growth. I can’t expect them to honor a code or an ideal that I cannot model for them, and I don’t want them to feel like it’s not okay to make mistakes. We celebrate our successes… when we make mistakes, we own them, learn from them, and move along… nothing to see here.

Thanks for coming along for the ride…

I was in one of those hurries the other day… we were heading out for dinner before going into Phoenix to see the Christmas illumination extravaganza known as Zoo Lights. I had a plan, and timing was of the essence. I had figured that we could get to the restaurant and finish before the rush, then arrive at the zoo just after sunset and hopefully beat the mob that would be arriving after dark (I don’t like crowds. At all. It isn’t so much the people, it’s just that there are so many of them… and they get in my way…I digress.) We started out on track… I hustled everyone out of the house right at the desired time. I figured 10-12 minutes to the restaurant door to door and then all the pieces would fall into place. All was well.

Somehow, and I really cannot even recall how this came up, just a few blocks away from the restaurant we discovered that Dillon had forgotten his shoes… Yeah. Frustration began to set in. I could feel my firm grip on the schedule slipping away. I started calculating the time it would take to turn around, drive back home, find his shoes, and then get back to this point of the journey… I figured we’d get stuck at 2/3 of the lights each way. Kendra offered to drop the rest of us off at the restaurant, go back with Dillon to get his shoes, and then return to eat. I declined. It would only add to the slippage of time, too many unknown variables could enter the equation… I made a U-turn.

I sped homeward. The boys were in their respective places: Logan in the 3rd row listening to his iPod and reading; Ethan in the middle of the 2nd row in his car seat chattering; and Jaden and Dillon on either side of him alternately reading and playing with random remains of Happy Meal toys. Dillon extended his stocking-ed toes over the armrest periodically; taunting me with the reminder of the cause of this detour. I maneuvered swiftly through the traffic intent on making up as much time (safely) as I could. I was focused (Now, Kendra might try to argue that I was sulking, but that is just not the case… I was merely reflecting on the recent events and intensely working through a solution in my mind… just for the record).

We arrived home and Kendra hopped out to go find some footwear for Dillon (who was completely unconcerned about having forgotten his shoes). While we sat in the driveway, I kept running through the schedule I had laid out and it began to dawn on me why we were in the car together going out that evening in the first place. Embarrassed, once again, by my behavior, I let go of all my frustration (notice, I did not say, “stop sulking”). I decided to take this as an opportunity to start the trip over again and actually enjoy the time with everyone while we had the night together. Kendra returned with shoes and we were off once again…and that’s when I saw it.

Due North of us, just over the mountains (hills) in our sight line was a descending hot air balloon. It appeared very small at firs and seemed a great distance away. I pointed it out to the boys, and we spent the next several minutes spotting it out of windows as we made our way back toward the restaurant. It was growing larger and clearer in view. It was headed our way. Ethan had never seen one of these in “real life” before. His eyes were open bright and wide as he watched that orb float closer to us. He had an opened mouth grin plastered on his face as he watched in amazement.

The balloon still lied a good distance ahead of us, and it almost appeared that it was going to land in the middle of road we were on. My mind immediately jumped to thoughts of the traffic that would cause, but thankfully those images quickly vanished and were replaced by thoughts of how cool it would be for the boys to be able to get out in that kind of a traffic jam and check out the balloon up close. I was beginning to slow down.

We entered into a largely residential stretch of this boulevard, and trees lined the eastern shoulder. The hot air balloon began to descend quite rapidly and disappeared behind the wall of foliage. “Did it land on someone’s house?” “Did it land in a yard?” We were full of wonder. I slowed my pace as we approached the area the balloon appeared to have landed. Ethan’s eye’s were fixed on Jaden’s window. Jaden and Dillon searched around as we passed by the neighborhood… then a clearing… then, “Balloon! Balloon! Jaden, Balloon! Dillon, Balloon! Logan, Logan… Balloon!” Ethan was awestruck.

This huge checkered balloon had landed in a greenbelt park at the edge of the neighborhood. I slowed down as we passed by. The chase vehicle had already parked and had the trailer ready to load the gondola. We continued on towards dinner; the car full of excitement and conversation. The rest of the night was fantastic. We ate dinner outside in the cool evening air and the boys ran and played on the lawn. We all enjoyed the Zoo Lights, and even ran into some old co-workers there. We saw cool light shows and crazy otters. We saw Komodo Dragons and a talking giraffe… and from what I understand, there was apparently quite a few people there.

Over the next few days Ethan would erupt with a random utterance of“Balloon! High! Balloon!” I would sit and talk him through the entire event again… how we saw it way up high; how it landed in the park outside Jaden’s window; how it was bigger than the houses and the trees. He would stare off as if he was seeing it all over again… nodding slowly as we talked through it. Then he’d look at me and whisper “yeah”.

These are the things that wait for you to take the time to notice them. They are out there to observe everyday. Sometimes we just need the speed bumps in our way to force us to slow down and enjoy what beauty and courage and strength and imagination and whatever else inspires you exists in our everyday walk. I’m beginning to be on the lookout for speed bumps, and in doing so I am slowing myself down enough to notice more of the things I’ve been speeding by. It was an impressive precision landing, and it sparked a lot of great conversation for us about balloons and flying… and it made a lasting impression on Ethan… probably the greatest thrill of his life so far. Which also cemented a trip for us next year to the Balloon Fiesta! All because Dillon forgot his shoes.

I grabbed my toolbox and walked outside to see Jaden sitting on his bike at the end of the driveway. He was staring off down the street. “You ready for me to take off your training wheel?” I asked, beaming with pride that he was willing to take that step. “Yes. But first watch Dillon. Look how good he’s doing!” He was so proud. He watched Dillon make his way toward us from a few driveways down. Jaden had a satisfied smile on his face as he studied his brother’s progress. “Okay.” Jaden slid forward on his bike so I could get to his training wheel. I studied his body language for fear or apprehension and couldn’t detect any. He had made up his mind. He was ready.

Dillon rolled past… stopping and starting, weaving back and forth across the street, pedaling leisurely to and fro.  He was pleased. Kendra and I shouted praises to him as he biked along. He came to a stop to watch Jaden begin. Kendra was the first to guide him out into the street and help him coast a few houses away and back. Then, I walked beside Jaden as he rolled into the street; holding his seat post and handle grip for balance and support. After a few cranks for momentum he was off. I jogged beside him offering encouragement, but my job was already done. He was riding. Dillon pedaled off.

I grabbed my bike and rode around between the boys. I showed them a few tricks about getting started from the curb. Kendra taught them to use the driveway inclines as a means of gaining momentum to start and also as a safe way to slow down when coming from the opposite direction. Bikes were laid down a couple times, but there were no crashes or injuries. They decided they were going to ride that day. And they rode.

I’m always blown away by the way they overcome challenges. I swear they must hold secret meetings in the middle of the night where they just sit back and talk about obstacles and strategize how to overcome them. They have a way of just appearing out of nowhere with a new way of doing something or with a new talent. There never seems to be a lot of trial and error… like when Jaden came running in from the backyard one afternoon to announce that Dillon just completed a back flip on the trampoline. We had talked about how to do one several weeks beforehand, but he never asked for a spot or guidance in getting it done. He started doing little somersaults from his back from time to time in what had to be some type of preparation to familiarize himself with the motion, and then once he had thought it through, he just did it. Jaden was that way with the front flip and with jumping rope. I need to find out about these meetings.

I had no idea they had been working through the bike riding process, but it had clearly been on their minds. As with the diving experience, once one had the breakthrough, the other was soon to follow. Kendra snapped pictures as we rode around the neighborhood. By the end of the evening, the boys and I struck out for our maiden ride. I’ve always been fond of bike rides… they are a great way to just be outside and feel free. Being able to connect my sons to that sensation was amazing. There was a point during our ride where they were really getting confident on their bikes and pushing their comfort zones. We were picking up speed, and the soothing hum of the knobby rubber tires on the asphalt and the steady shoonk… shoonk… shoonk… of the cranks and chains provided the soundtrack to our trek. I was teary eyed.

Like most of these such moments, this one ended all too briefly. I close my eyes and find myself back on that neighborhood stretch with my guys zooming along to the sounds of our rhythmic motion. This time, no cars turn into the community and cause us to pull over and wait. This time, no one is backing out of the driveway or waiting to pull in. This time we are just riding forward together dreaming of obstacles to conquer… I need to find out about those meetings.

Thanks for coming along for the ride!