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!

I thought about the things that might constitute evidence…like, what would I consider the actions of a good father? What model or standard would I hold as the yardstick for my evaluation? I consider my dad to have done a good job with us so far (he’s not off the hook yet, I still have quite a few things to learn from him). When I think about why, I can readily think of examples of situations and a lot of intangibles that revealed themselves over time. When I attempted to turn those things into some type of a scale, everything became so subjective or ambiguous. But at least I had some instances and some qualities that I knew I could recognize as evidence. So I thought about my actions and motivations…do I spend enough time with them? do I make the time I spend matter? what am I doing with and for my children? The old standbys I provide for my kids; I love my kids; I take care of my kids, don’t count as evidence. As Chris Rock aptly reminded us, “You’re supposed to!”. You don’t get points simply for showing up… you just don’t. And as with the “leadership” exercise, it becomes easy to look back at actions and moments and see those things in a positive light. It is common for us to look at the things we do through our own paradigm or applied rationale. We can justify just about anything… but if someone else saw it, would they see it the same way? If I sat nodding, satisfied with myself and the job I’ve done as a dad would someone else look on in disagreement? More importantly, would my kids agree?

That one’s tough… At any given point I could be way behind or way ahead, or even both at the same time with a different son. Since the evaluation is ongoing, and the opportunities to fail are infinite, I would have to focus on the long term effect. I thought about how to make the biggest impact over time. Then I realized the long term is made up of all the little moments along the way. So back I went to square one… how do I know I am doing the right things and stringing together enough of the little things to make sure the boys are getting the experiences they need? How do I amass enough evidence? I thought about my dad and what he had done. He was a father figure to a few of my friends growing up. He shouldered a lot of load and did it willingly and without complaint. All the life lessons, the support, the encouragement, the correction, the discipline, the drive, the love, the consistency…there were GIANT things he did that I cannot begin to hope to accomplish and to mean to my kids. I didn’t know how to build that type of evidence. There just didn’t seem to be a way to the top of that mountain. But then, after weeks of wrestling with this in my mind, I saw a path.

It was an unexpected realization and it came along, unassuming and ordinary, in the way of a series of overheard phone conversations. My friend Jim received a call on his cell phone. It wasn’t a long call; maybe 2 or 3 minutes. At first I thought it was his wife calling… he had the smiles and nods working with the occasional “uh-huh…mmhmmm…yes…yeah…oh really?” that men tend to throw around when we are getting an update on something and we really aren’t focused because we are in the middle of something else but we don’t want to seem obviously rude (or so I’ve heard). We were on our way out the door to a football game so I figured he was just hurrying the call along. But when I looked over to him, he was focused… and he was paying attention…standing still in the middle of the room. It was Ryan, his son and oldest child, who had called. A few minutes later, Ryan called again and took his dad through another rapid fire conversation. Jim had recently introduced Ryan to Star Wars, and Ryan was hooked. Understandably. He was calling with questions about characters in his Lego Star Wars game and looking for some insight into his dad’s preference of Sith and bounty hunters. Jim was a pro… patient and engaged, and enjoyed every moment of it. 

It took a little while for it to sink in… I probably didn’t realize it  until after the game when he talked with Ryan again and they recapped and celebrated over the phone… and then I recalled the phone message the two of them left me the week before after the Broncos beat my Cowboys. It is odd to say, but I had never felt so good about receiving trash talk in my life. It was like a professional act; the two of them handing the phone back and forth without missing a jab…like Run DMC alternating lines and flowing over beats. I even played it for Kendra. She was impressed as well. She asked how frequently they place these phone calls because the message seemed so natural, yet well rehearsed. I even paused a full 2 seconds before hitting the delete command (they were trash talking my Cowboys after all… couldn’t keep that message). I digress… but remembering that, and hearing those conversations provided a lot of perspective for me. That was evidence. He’s a good dad. I could convict him on those interactions alone. If you saw his face when he got off the phone or watched him when he spoke to his son you would have no reasonable doubt. It is evident that he loves his kids and takes his role seriously. But if I asked him about that day I doubt he’d see it the way I just relayed it… and I think that is part of the point.

I wasted time worrying about trying to create evidence when all I had to do was do the things that I should be doing in the first place – being there, being accessible, having fun, playing games, interacting, being dad. The lessons will come. They are inevitable. Every encounter does not have to end in some profound revelation. I knew that. I forgot that. I hope I can keep from getting in my own way too often. Jim is a good dad. I am proud to say that I have many friends that have turned out to be good dads. Some are photographers and can capture images and moments that communicate their adoration and clearly illustrate the focus of their children in their lives. Some are outdoors guys and take every opportunity to seize free moments and spend time in nature with their kids and sharing that appreciation with them. Some are good listeners and spend time in front of their kids hearing what they have to say and giving them attentive audiences and acting as sounding boards. Some are sports guys and provide lessons in the value of competition and the benefits of failure. Some guys sacrifice and give up all they have and know to provide a different reality for their kids than the one they knew growing up. Some are all of these things, and some are more. I am just a guy with a keyboard who wants to make the most of his opportunity at fatherhood, and who is very blessed to have so many examples of evidence right in front of me. From my father, to my brother, to my friends…the path is clear. Am I guilty of being a good dad? I don’t know. But I know that every day I try to do better, and I am not going to waste any more time searching for evidence right now.

Thanks for coming along for the ride.

They love barbecues… not so much for my grilling skills (which are excellent if I must say so myself…except for the smoked burger incident which will not be revisited), or because they love to eat, but because of what barbecues have come to represent. They have long associated clouds of chimney smoke, wafting aromas, and the gentle sizzle of grilling meats and vegetables with the imminent arrival of friends and family.  My grill preparation is a kind of Pavlovian Bell for them that signifies the onset of an enjoyable social event. They see me with the newspaper and lighter or smell the coals burning and they just light up! The questions of who’s coming and when start flying around. It is a blessing to see them exhibit such genuine excitement about being able to spend time with the people they enjoy. I love it.

My hope is that my sons develop meaningful friendships, and that they willingly befriend those in need. They do appreciate their friends and look forward to having them around, but none of the boys are interested in putting much effort into expanding their circles. This is especially true of the twins. It is likely due to them having one another to fill that role. In time they may be more willing to engage others more consistently. They are young. In youth, as it is with many things, I think it is commonplace to take friendships for granted. The future is hardly a concept they ponder daily. It can be difficult to imagine that you may not always have those friends in your life. It can be difficult to imagine that time and distance can create barriers that seem impossible to overcome. But it all happens. Sometimes for good reasons, and often for no apparent reason; people fall in and out of each others’ lives.

I don’t know that it is possible to overstate the importance of companionship. For every great story or event in my life, I have someone that shares the memory and the experience. For almost every major obstacle or setback, there’s been encouragement, support, and often someone standing with me shoulder to shoulder. Even in the absence of that, God always reminds me that in those trials I faced alone, someone had me in their thoughts and prayers. Those are some of the intangibles of friendship. Those are the things that make you pause when you hear a name spoken after all those years, or make you smile when you see the number pops up when the phone rings or when the name comes up on email… those are things that make you grab your coat and head out in the middle of the night because someone’s in need…or make you stop in your tracks and pray, because you know there is nothing you can do (yet somehow that’s the best thing you can do). Those are the things that come to mind when I light the fire.

There was no company coming that evening.  The boys were a little disappointed, and, honestly, so was I. But, it was a Tuesday, a school night and a work night, and we don’t typically have folks over late during the week. Still… as I watched our lonely burgers on the grill I couldn’t help thinking about all the people throughout my life I have had the privilege to call “friend”. Some friends I thought I’d know forever; some I never thought I’d know as friends. I’ve learned something from every one; even if it was just that I should have been a better friend. I think about the boys and wonder if the excitement they feel today will continue to burn in them. I wonder when they will realize the importance of maintaining friendships… and I pray they are as blessed as I have been, and more so.

Barbecues are not about the food to me either. I flipped the burgers and watched the glowing coals. The sun slipped below the roofline of the house behind us and the warm breeze blew the smoke toward the trampoline.

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

Yes… Little Dillon has emerged as the young Lothario at Little Einstien’s Preschool. On the trampoline the other day he and Jaden told me about a “friendship” they had developed with these two girls in their class. Jaden explained that he and his “best friend” had had been spending their play time together.  Recently, she had played with him during snack time, but ignored him on the playground. He decided that the next day at school he would refuse to play with her during the day as well. Jaden broke down his elaborate plan for exactly how it would all go down when they got outside to play. He ended the day dancing around with a different little girl… Dillon said that his “best friend” told him “I like you” during snack and told Kendra that his friendship with his particular girl is “so into it”; so into it? Seriously? Where does this even come from? I am thinking the Little Einstein school might just give way to the Little Celibate Monk Academy if this trend continues. The birthday party is in a couple weeks, and I am already anticipating the drama. I just know I am going to have to run interference with “Into It”‘s dad, provided he survived the coronary.

I am somewhere between slightly amused and somewhat concerned with this development. I mean, Logan broke news of a girlfriend earlier this year, and even confessed to having had one for a short time while we were in Lawrence. I had been anticipating hearing this from him, so my initial reaction was more of “OK, that makes sense… we can monitor this from here”. I knew he was coming of that age and that this would be the next step in his development and we could manage that. Jaden and Dillon will be five in  a couple weeks… this is just a touch earlier than I had anticipated dealing with this. I mean, this is completely out of left field. As recently as a few months ago these two would only answer to the names “Yoda” and ”Only Kenobi”; All of a sudden they are dancing with the girls in the classroom, planning mind game retaliations, and kissing girls goodbye.

As much as I struggle with this, I am SO much happier to be on this side of the line than to have to be the daddy of that little girl who comes home and tells him that she kissed her boyfriend goodbye at preschool that day. I can’t imagine what my reaction to that would be…Come to think of it, yes I can… I may need to have the boys stay home sick a few days… just to give  ”Into It” and her dad some time to work this out on their end, and give me some time to work on that application for the Little Celibate Monk Academy… maybe I can get a deal on the tuition with the two of them… maybe get an advanced placement for Ethan…

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

A few minutes of burning thighs and several mouthfuls of dust into the ride quickly lowered my expectation to that of merely surviving the trip. It had been years since I had attempted anything as physical as this ride, and every crank of the pedal drove home how young I no longer am. By the time we were midway up the second major incline my arms and legs were burning, I was out of breath and I was doubled over my handlebars desperate for some type of boost or second wind. I looked around at the desert wilderness that enveloped us: cholla cactus, saguaro, wild grass concealing desert rodents and insects, loose rocks and drop-offs, and the silence of the hills was only penetrated by the exaggerated pounding of my heart as I struggled to catch my breath.  We pushed forward… every so often we would stop and try to regroup and curse our path. We came to what we thought would be the halfway point as we encountered more downhill path than up. We began to laugh at how ridiculously we had been behaving about the previous obstacles and congratulated ourselves on making it through. We proclaimed our manliness and vowed to conquer the trail with ease the next time out… and then we came to the big hill.

This section of the trail was not so much an incline as it was an instrument of torture designed to crush a rider’s sense of accomplishment and capability. We somehow managed to push ourselves over the first couple of summits, but each time we would come to the top of a section, the trail would hairpin and climb again, or it would drop down into a sandy riverbed and then climb sharply to a point and gradually wind further upward. Each time we thought we had arrived at our stopping point or pinnacle, the trail moved onward and upward. We were physically and mentally spent.  We had put ourselves down this path and we could not continue on the way we planned. From where we stood, we could see the parking area off in the distance. The terrain prevented us from giving up and setting off in that direction, and we had come too far to merely turn around. Besides that, the road back did not seem any easier than what we hoped would be the short distance ahead. I could not pedal forward; I had no strength. I could not rest on the trail because it was barely wide enough for us to ride through and it was beset by cactus. I leaned against my bike for support.  I quickly started drawing parallels between that hopeless place on the trail and times in my life when I put myself in situations that I needn’t have.  It seems I never have trouble riding myself off into some desperate situation and end up crying out for some intervention. As I straddled my bike and waddled myself the rest of the way up the hill, I began to recall 2 Corinthians 12:9 – “My Grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” I pondered on this verse as I approached what was ultimately the crest of longest incline. I had definitely been in a place of personal and spiritual weakness and He was taking this opportunity to show me He was there waiting and ready to help me.

The path widened, and it would be mainly downhill from this point. A few other riders passed through casually and waved as did a woman on horseback. Families hiked down below. We had not traversed some impassible stretch of trail. Our lives were not in peril. But, there was wisdom on that trail that afternoon. There are so many times in life that I want to shine or be the focal point… and I have to try to be mindful that His light through me shines brightest. He is my strength, and with that nothing is impossible or hopeless. His Grace is sufficient… and as I continue to relearn to rely on that and lean on His unwavering strength I will know not to doubt or worry.

This is a difficult lesson to embrace as a father… I want to appear strong and in control as a parent so I struggle with this at times. I have to keep in mind what I am modeling for my sons so they can gain comfort in leaning on His strength as they grow into men… not only when times are difficult but in all things at all times.

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

We are now slowly (yes, still slowly) getting ourselves settled in. We moved from a rental house to what we thought would be our long-term home, but… we have the U-Haul punch card nearly filled – two more moves and we get the free tank of gas and the his and hers padlocks! 

Kiss your kids!

Anyway, back to the names… I have a couple ideas for names that for some reason are not gaining popularity with the Mrs either (but strangely have been a huge success with the dads of daughters – going with DOD for short from here on in). I teed up a couple of my favorite names for the DOD focus group… WELL received. One panel member even tried to convince his youngest that she should change her name… she didn’t bite. But, that could be attributed to the fact that he has been operating outside of my “Protection Plan” described above… but again, I digress. The biggest hits in the DOD focus group have been Chastity Virginia (or Virginia Chastity, equally well received), Prudence, and Purity Faith. Why the wife opposes these names I will never understand. These are great names… solid names… they speak of character and virtue. I harbor no delusions that these names will make it through the Veto process… I have been told in no uncertain terms that our child will not bear any of those names. July 24th will hopefully reveal the sex of our child… I still have time to work some angles and reconvene the DOD panel to see what we can come up with. Beyond that, I have until December when the baby is due to try to convince her… I need to take some time and think it through… there has to be a way… HAS to. So you see… I am absolutely fine with having a girl. Looking forward to it actually… and I will be working on perfecting the Protection Plan and getting the name list together… July 24th… everyone is thinking girl… could be… OR… we could be welcoming Ethan Sawyer to the family and moving forward with business as usual with a house full of boys.

Thanks for coming along… Kiss your kids!