One bite at a time, of course.

You know, throughout life you have those moments where a light suddenly goes on in your head and you have to smack yourself in the forehead for not ‘getting it’ sooner. And looking back it is almost embarrassing that you didn’t make the connection sooner. There is a reason for the saying that hindsight is 20/20. I mean, at the end of every episode of Matlock I was always amazed at how easy the case was to figure out. Of course, that was after the case had been laid out for me. Before that I hadn’t a clue.

That ‘duh’ feeling is only enhanced when, throughout your life, you’ve all but been told the thing that just clicked but never got it. In my case it was the moral carried by the aphorism/riddle “How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time.” I’d heard that many times before and chuckled and got it, but without ‘getting it’. That is, I intellectually understood the point of the saying, I just didn’t recognize the wisdom in it.

I have gone through life wanting to make changes in my life that I just seemed incapable of. I think most of us have. Rather it is lifestyle issues like quitting smoking or getting in shape or it is life issues like spending more time with your kids or being nicer to those around you, changes are not easy to make. Particularly when you are predisposed to whatever trait you are trying to change. They say 21 days makes a habit, but I beg to differ. 21 days may make it part of your routine, but the old behavior is lurking around the corner waiting to jump you. Trust me, I know. I’ve gone to the gym for months on end only to stop going for a week while on vacation and that’s it, game over. I’ve smoked on and off throughout my life and I can go several years without smoking then get under stress or something and bum one from someone and boom, I’m off the wagon. Then the struggle to quit again begins anew.

One bite at a time really could be summarized in more practical terms as ‘make small changes, not big ones’ or at least that is what it means for me. If you are trying to quit smoking, don’t; try smoking less. If you are trying to get into a gym habit, don’t go kill it; go do a little at a time. Either one will lead you closer to that ultimate goal. Trying to do it all at once makes you far more prone to fail and, using that failure as an excuse, give up all together.

Nowhere is that more evident, at least for me, than in life changes rather than the lifestyle ones. I really realized that a year or two back when, like most of us have from time to time, I was looking at my life – looking at my attitude toward life – and I didn’t like what I saw. I realized that I’d assumed a very negative outlook on life over time without even realizing it; I’d become jaded. The manifestations were many. I was judgmental of those around me. I always expected the worst and often found it. I wasn’t where I should have been in many many areas. If you’ve not found yourself in a similar place, take my word for it, it isn’t easy to pull out of. I tried to change but met with little success until one Sunday in church the pastor said something almost in passing. That is, it wasn’t remotely near the heart of his message, but it was the message for me that day. I don’t recall his exact words, and it partially involved me reading between the lines of what he was saying. But I’ve since thought a lot about it and I would put it something like “Don’t try to be perfect. We don’t have that in us. Don’t try to fix all your problems, you will only fail. Try to do more of what you know is right rather than less of what you know is wrong. Over time, the right will displace the wrong.” I didn’t hear any of the rest of the message that morning. I was so absorbed with that concept and it was the key to change for me.

And, while I still do wrestle with many things in life, I’ve managed to drastically change my outlook and actions based on that single nugget. It started with little things. Well, it was all little things I guess. When I’d say something snide about someone (no matter how richly I felt they’d deserved it) I would stop and correct myself. My wife used to laugh at my externalized dialog like “She only buys designer clothes while she wonders why they are always getting utilities turned off? I mean, c’mon, how smart do you have to be??? That was out of line. I shouldn’t have said that.” But, you know, over time I started making the correction internally before I said it. And after yet more time, I stopped even thinking it. Now, I’m not saying I never have uncharitable thoughts; I most certainly do. One of my most uttered phrases is “stupidity should be painful.” But I generally correct myself shortly after and, even when I don’t, I generally know I should. More importantly though, my negative outlook has changed as a result of my own actions. Rather than letting my outlook drive my actions, I let my actions drive my outlook. What a concept.

I still have to remind myself pretty often and I still am constantly struggling to be the person I know I should be, but I don’t always feel like I’m failing anymore. And that, for me at least, is huge. I mentioned in an earlier post that I don’t do things I am not good at. Unfortunately true (and I’m working on that a little at a time) and that made me more prone to give up at the first sign of failure. Allowing a success criteria short of perfection solves that problem. I should note that I’m not advocating accepting the things we know we shouldn’t be doing; we should always strive for what we know is right. We just shouldn’t walk away completely when we fail.

I have applied, and continue to apply, that principal to other areas of life as well. My latest is dietary change. I have a terrible diet. The only green things I eat are, like, apple flavored candy. OK, it isn’t quite that bad but it is closer to true than it should be. I’ve set a goal for myself to eat at least one bite of something I don’t like every day. My theory is this: If I could acquire a taste,or at least a tolerance for beer when I was younger then I can acquire a taste for anything. I don’t care what anyone says, beer tastes nasty. And that was powered by peer pressure. Surely the desire to play ball with my grand kids should carry at least the same weight. And the list of other changes I know I need to make is a long one but, as they occur to me, I put a mental note out there to work on doing a little more or a little less depending on what is needed.

So, day by day and action by action I strive to improve my life a little at a time. And over time I have seen and will continue to see notable improvements overall. Some bad habits have fallen off completely without my even noticing them go. They just died from a thousand small decisions, not one grand gesture. Which reminds me, I haven’t had that bite today; I need to go in the kitchen and find something nasty to eat.

/g

There are a couple of changes and clarifications I need to make that are, to quote Sheryl Crow, apropos of nothing so I thought I’d just lump em together here. If you haven’t read any of the previous posts here then this will mean nothing to you. If you have, it still may mean nothing to you. Here goes anyway…

In the post titled “My own stalker song. Sweet!” I quoted the lyrics from a song called “Go-getter Greg” from the band Ludo. A friend mentioned to me that they were suprised I’d posted them since they were a bit crude. I didn’t think they were crude in the least (or I wouldn’t have posted them) so I asked what exactly was so crude? The problem was one of interpretation. There are a couple of lines in the chorus that could be interpreted as somewhat graphic. I didn’t (and don’t) agree with that interpretation. I think it is more of a broad metaphor than he did, but I can see both sides. As such, I’ve removed the post. My apologies if anyone was offended.

That discussion inevitably led to us talking about the post “That’s my boy!” in which I make a number of references to Monty Python’s “Holy Grail” which is, as I mentioned in the post, rather off color in many places. He suggested that I should think about removing that one as well. Well, I have, and I’m not. Look, in case it isn’t apparent from other posts, there are large portions of my life in which I didn’t look at the world through the lens I do today. The fact is I wouldn’t watch the movie again today, but I can’t un-see it. I have seen it (multiple times) and I still find the bits I quoted funny. In fact, the rest of the movie is still funny even if it isn’t something I’d watch now. But those bits I picked are innocuous enough and I don’t have a problem with them being here. If you find them offensive, please accept my apologies. Again, not my intent.

While we are discussing that post, I put some pictures of my son’s birthday party there. My wife would rather I’d noted that she didn’t put him in the somewhat unattractive shirt he was wearing. It is really more intended to get worn to the playground to get dirty, not to a birthday party. He never cares what he wears but, that one day, he decided that he needed to wear his “Rocket shirt” (from the Little Einsteins) and, since it was his birthday she let him. What are you gonna do? Oh, and she didn’t ask me to post this, I just know her well enough to know it bothers her.

And last, but not least, I’ve had more than one so-called friend challenge my assertion in this post that I’m the man. I see how it’s gon’ be. They claim I just got lucky or that Christy slipped me the answers. Not true. They should know her well enough to know that she’d find me squirming in front of the crowd every bit as much fun as the other wives did when their husbands were on the spot. As for rather I just got lucky or not, well, we’ll never know will we? But as it stands now, I did get all the questions right so I’m the man. If you disagree, start your own blog and write about it. Peace.

/g

Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and never brought to mind ?
Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and old times since ?

For auld lang syne, my dear,
for auld lang syne,
we'll take a cup of kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.
And surely you’ll buy your pint cup !
And surely I’ll buy mine !
And we'll take a cup o’ kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.

We two have run about the slopes,
and picked the daisies fine ;
But we’ve wandered many a weary foot,
since auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne, my dear,
for auld lang syne,
we'll take a cup of kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.
And surely you’ll buy your pint cup !
And surely I’ll buy mine !
And we'll take a cup o’ kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.

We two have paddled in the stream,
from morning sun till dine ;
But seas between us broad have roared
since auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne, my dear,
for auld lang syne,
we'll take a cup of kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.
And surely you’ll buy your pint cup !
And surely I’ll buy mine !
And we'll take a cup o’ kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.

And there’s a hand my trusty friend !
And give us a hand o’ thine !
And we’ll take a right good-will draught,
for auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne, my dear,
for auld lang syne,
we'll take a cup of kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.
And surely you’ll buy your pint cup !
And surely I’ll buy mine !
And we'll take a cup o’ kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.

For most people, at least most Americans, the first few minutes of each new year are spent singing those words or at least some subset of them and I’m no exception. I don’t ever recall a new year that didn’t begin that way. When I was younger I didn’t really know what I was singing or most of the words for that matter but, as I got older, I began to get a sense of the meaning. Of course, back then I couldn’t have imagined the power it would have to move me as it does now. With the passing of each year the lyrics ring more true and the song grows ever more bittersweet. I can only imagine what impact it will have when I am 70 or 80.

Auld lang syne literally translates from old Scottish to “old long ago.” The song is one of reminiscence of love and friendship in times past. It stirs memories in me that I’d rather leave at rest for the most part and perhaps not the same sort of memories it stirs in most others. Of course it makes me reminisce and long for those in my life who were near and dear and who have either passed or drifted away over time. But the relationships with those I think about this time of year mean much more to me than they normally would because of what went before.

You see, I envy those who have lifelong friends; people they went to grade school with and still keep in touch with. Most of my school life is a vacuum for me from a friendship perspective. As I mentioned in a previous post, I don’t easily make friends these days, but that is true for many adults I know. Where I differ, I think, is that I never have.

At the times in school when others were making instant friends as most kids do, I was often a loner. It isn’t that I was anti-social, I was just very immersed in many other things in my life and often didn’t relate to the things the other kids were interested in. As a consequence that glue of shared interest that cemented those friendships for others was completely lacking in most cases for me. To further complicate matters, I went to Kindergarten through 2nd grade at a school in my grandmother’s area since she kept me while my parents worked. I then moved to another school for 3rd grade near my own house. After that year we moved to a new house in yet another district. Unfortunately the school in that district was full beyond capacity and they were bussing overflow to other districts. So off I went to another district than all the kids who lived around me. The following year I went to the equivalent of a magnet school for that time so, yet another school in yet another part of town. Finally in 6th grade I attended the school up the street with all the kids in my area but I didn’t really click with anyone that year.

7th grade started Jr High where I lived. Not suprisingly I was one street over from the cutoff for where everyone else in the neighborhood went so I got bussed 7 or 8 miles to another Jr High. I should note that all of the schools I’ve mentioned are miles from where I actually lived. Except for 6th grade the closest one was that Jr High and the furthest, down by my grandmothers house, was close to 20 miles away. Any of them may as well have been on another planet at that age.

Highschool finally had me going to the school where everyone around me went. Unfortunately it was a new school serving a mosty very affluent area that we lived on the edge of; a school for rich kids, which I was not. And the town I grew up in is one of the shallowest, keep up with the Joneses places I’ve ever seen to this day. The parking lot was full of IROC Camaros, 280Z’s and other cars that only an idiot would buy for a highschooler. I had my feet. Lets just say I had little in common with most of my peers. As if all that weren’t enough, I was a bright kid who was bored to tears so the administrators did things like put me in AP Human Physiology in my freshman year with a bunch of Juniors and Seniors. Then I out scored them on tests (they posted grades there) which really made them like me lots. Yay.

My freshman year also marked the year my mother went into the hospital with Systemic Lupus Erythematosus. She stayed in the hospital more than out for the next few years, often for months at a time. The doctors gave her mere days or, in some cases hours, to live on several occasions. While recent medical advances have rendered it more controllable, at that time it had an extremely high mortality rate. But God is good, and she is still with us and completely healthy now. The doctors said it wan’t possible, but I beg to differ. But at the time we had no way of knowing things would turn out that way. And, because all of that isn’t nearly enough for any one family, the hospital bills and loss of my mom’s income did little to improve our finances. My dad rescued our house literally a couple of hours before it was to be auctioned on the court steps at least once. ‘nuf said.

So, through all of this I predictably floundered. I looked at the circumstances and, well, let’s just say that I wasn’t seeking out a relationship with God at the time; I rather blamed Him for most of what was going on. And, like so many troubled teens I went where I found acceptance, which wasn’t a good thing. Virtually all of the friends I made during that time weren’t exactly the kind you’d really want to keep up with over time. I can honestly say I can only recall a few of their names. But, again, God is good and I am still here and without criminal record, no thanks to my own efforts at that time.

So, for most of my life I don’t have the sort of memories most people do. There is exactly zero chance that I will ever attend a highschool reunion and I can count on one hand the number of people in my entire time in school that I ever considered a real friend. I would say that it was more the life of a military brat, but that wouldn’t be accurate either. Even though they move frequently, military brats tend to make fast friends because they are all sharing that experience. I just sort of… drifted.

I tell you all of that not to share a sob story or throw a pity party; I am suprisingly at peace with my life given the circumstances. But it did inform my sensibilities where friendship is involved. The scarcity of that commodity growing up has made it all the more precious to me since. Through youth group I did meet a couple of people with whom I actually formed lasting relationships. I met my first love, Annie, there. I was head over heels madly in love and, though much time has passed and our lives have gone in decidedly different directions, she still holds a special place in my heart. I would still drop whatever I was doing to help her if she asked. But I haven’t spoken to her her in years and the last time I saw her she was in a very bad marriage to a very bad character and had a couple of kids. She was one of the sweetest and most decent people I’ve ever known and she deserved so much better. She saved me back then, and in ways she couldn’t possibly know. It was years later before even I realized it. I still consider her a close friend and always will.

Then there was Nick. I’d gotten my first computer in grade school and met my oldest friend Nick through one of the earliest online mediums (waaaaay pre-internet) called Joe’s BBS. It was a single line system (one person could connect at a time by directly dialing it with their computer) and there was scarce little content. There were rudimentary message boards and, through them, Nick and I first encountered each other. Back then you didn’t use ever use your real name on those systems. You used a handle, or nickname, and his was somewhat feminine, or so I thought. In short, I thought I was talking to a girl the whole time. Imagine my suprise when we each arranged to have our parents drop us at the mall and I arrived at the pre-arranged location to find a a guy with long hair. It was years before I ever told him that.

Nick and I became fast friends and, as we got older we hung out more and more. His mom was like my second mom and he was more like a brother than my own brother was at that time. We were roommates through college and with very few exceptions took the same courses together. We shared a love of music and a passion for computers. We had a pretty big house with a pool and we each had monster stereos by then and we threw massive parties on a very regular basis. There was something going on at our house pretty much every weekend. I met lots of people then and counted a number of them as my friends at the time, but looking back I realized they were really just aquaintances with a few exceptions.

As close as Nick and I were, much of the forge on which that friendship was crafted was rooted in unhappy events. They are things I can’t, or rather won’t, talk about publicly, but I can say that they were some of the most extreme tests of friendship possible. We emerged from the fire still intact, though more than a little battered and bruised. That we emerged friends at all still amazes me to this day, really. Unfortunately, as I grew up and moved forward, Nick sort of went the other direction. He began using drugs and with ever increasing frequency and he refused to even try to get a real job. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to watch. He was the most gifted programmer I’ve ever known and smarter than me by half but all he would do was hang around the house and get high. I married and Nick and I began to drift apart. We were in different enough places that there was simply no middle ground. I last spoke to Nick well over 10 years ago. He was still living in that house (which his mother owned). It had caught fire and most of the interior had burned. He was living in the one room that remained intact. I simply coudn’t stand to watch it anymore. I couldn’t help so I couldn’t stay.

So it is at this time of year when I inevitably look back at those tumutuous times. I am blessed now with a few really good friends, and I am thankful for each and every one of them, but I can’t help but wonder where Nick is now and if he is well. Every year around this time I think about trying to find him but, to be honest, I am afraid of what I would find. I don’t think I could stand it if he were still on that same path, so I always seem to chicken out. Perhaps this year…

And I look back at my time with Annie. Christmas has always been a special time for me and it was even more so when she and I were together. That time was a much needed harbor in a rather lengthy storm. And, much as with Nick, I don’t know if I want to know where things stand now with her. She is one of the most loyal people I know and I strongly suspect she is still in that bad marriage and still suffering through things she never deserved. I have actually tried to look her up a couple of times but have always been a step or two behind where she was. Because I didn’t like the looks of the path I broke off pursuit. If she is still in that relationship, me contacting her only makes things worse anyway.

In those and a few other cases I haven’t mentioned, I look back and I wonder. I wonder where those friends – and I do still consider all of them friends – are now and how life is treating them. In some cases I know exactly what precipitated the changes that drove us apart and in others I honestly have no idea. In all of those cases I long to know where and how they are, but am at the same time afraid to know in many cases. I’d like to say I imagine the best, but it would be a lie.

This year has been a rather interesting one for me and I am in an odd place, to be honest. There are things going on in my life that I don’t like but have little control over but, at the same time, my life is good. I have no right to complain. Just the same, I again find myself dreading the stroke of midnight on December 31st. I will once again find myself singing that song that grows more meaningful every year and I will wonder after those I’ve loved in the past and still love. And, as I do every year, I will mourn the loss of not knowing them now. And the bright hopes for the coming year and all I have to be thankful for will again be tinged with regrets over which I have little control. Those things that I can’t control and those things that I have no way of understatanding, I can only give to God. That doesn’t make them any less poignant, but it frees me to go on with life.

So I sit here tonight wondering how things could have been different and feeling sorry for myself, but it will most certainly burn off like so much fog with the rising sun tomorrow. And I will go on with life as usual. And from time to time, often for no reason, I will stop to wonder after old friends who shouldn’t be gone, but are. Just one more piece of baggage, I suppose. Auld Lang Syne, indeed.

/g

OK, so I think I’m gonna change the blog tagline to ‘Where random rants and poor grammar collide” since this seems to be my new soapbox. Sorry, I just can’t help it. I just… OK, so a couple of weeks ago I wrote this post about how people seem to have stopped caring about each other in a general sense. And I got it off my chest, and I moved on. At least until it was thrown in my direction yet again.

On Thursday night we drove the couple of hours down to Columbus to see my sister graduate from college. About a block from the civic center (where the graduation was to be held) we stopped at a gas station to get a drink and a snack since dinner would have to wait. As we pulled in, there was a woman standing in the entrance to the gas station and we commented on how she really should move. It was lightly raining, about 40 degrees and very dark so it wasn’t exactly a pleasant night to be out in the weather and it was a really bad idea to stand where people might not see you and run you over. But there she was.

Well, I went in to the store and grabbed our stuff. I noted through the window that the woman had come back up to the building and was talking to people. By the time I got through the line and got out she was just leaning on a post not far from our car and had her head down. I was looking at her as I got in the van and Christy told me she thought the lady wanted to talk to me. Puzzled, I got out of the van and approached her. As I neared she looked up and I could see she was crying. I asked what was wrong and if there was anything we could do to help. It turns out that she’d locked her keys in her car there and had been waiting for almost an hour in the cold and rain for a cab that never showed. She had been asking people for a ride to her apartment to get the spare keys for the last 15 minutes. The apartment was less than 10 minute’s drive away and noone would help her out. What’s more amaing is that she hadn’t just been asking for a ride, she’d been offering to pay for one. She had $20 in her hand, asking for a ride and no one would help her out.

Now, it isn’t like we are talking about someone threating. She was all of 5′4″ and I would guess her to be in her 50’s. She was dressed poorly, but more like she was just poor, not like she just didn’t care. But all people going in and out saw was ‘white trash’ I suspect and wouldn’t give her the time of day. We, of course, offered her a ride. She seemed amazed, sadly enough. She seemed more amazed when we refused her money. How sad is that?

As we rode, Rosemary told us she was visiting from Massacuchettes. She’d been in town for a little over a week and was due to go home the following. She’d come down to see her life-long best friend’s son graduate basic training at Ft Benning. Of all the things she told us the first thing she said when she got in the van stuck with me the most. Scrolling through radio stations Christy had stopped on a Christian station and some guy was reading from Romans. She looked up front and said “Oh. Now I know why you guys are helping me out. You know, I hear that Georgia is in the ‘Bible Belt’ but these people need Jesus more than anywhere I’ve seen.” Unfortunately I had to agree.

We got her all taken care of and headed on to the graduation, but it cast a pall over the evening that it took me a while to shake. I’m only just now writing about it because I was too mad to write rationally about it before now. Again, I just have to shake my head in wonder at what we’ve become as a nation. It has me more than a little concerned for my children’s futures.

/g

We’ve all heard the expression “actions speak louder than words.” Nowhere does that hold more true than with our children. What parent hasn’t looked on with dismay or embarrassment as their child pulls off a perfect impersonation of them saying something they shouldn’t have or wouldn’t have in present company? Count me in. Been there. More than once. You’d think you’d learn, but ya don’t. But them parroting what you say is really only the surface stuff. Their little brains are wired into learning mode when they are little. They say that most of a child’s personality is formed by age 5 or 6. I think we sometimes fail to appreciate that as adults.

Most of us are diligent about our children’s education. We read to them and teach them their numbers and letters. When they start school we make sure they do their homework and get their reading done, which is great. I applaud that. But the thing is, book learning is more about factual information and logical process and how well they learn, and it will almost certainly influence what they become. But you know what? I’m far more concerned with who my children will become. I would much rather have a kid who is a good person, but average student than one that is a brilliant student but lacking in interpersonal skills. I would much rather my child be a happy short order cook than a miserable physicist. But what determines that?

There is no short answer to that, in my opinion. I think that the first thing you have to do if you haven’t already is to get to know your kids. I mean really know them. If you aren’t meeting them where they are - that is, getting down to where they live - then you don’t really know them. That has been perhaps the hardest lesson for me. I adore my kids and always have but that isn’t enough. It is far too easy to dismiss them with a pat on the head and an “isn’t that cute.” But as cute as they are, they aren’t generally trying to be cute. They are trying to communicate with you. It doesn’t matter if I’ve had a bad day, they are still telling me about their day when I get home. How well I listen is entirely up to me.

I think the best bit of parenting advice I’ve ever gotten was from an elderly lady in some restaurant or another. Unbeknownst to me she had been admiring my little one from the booth behind me for most of the time we were there. When we were done mom went to make a potty run then load up the car while I stayed back to pay. As I walked away from the table that sweet old lady reached out and touched my arm to get my attention. She told me what a cute family we had and I thanked her. Then she told me something I’ll never forget. She said that before her husband died he told her that if he could go back and change one thing in his life it would be to have listened to his children when thay talked to him. Really listened to them. You know, I mentioned in an earlier post how I felt that discovering your regrets at the end of your life when it was too late to change them would be terrible. Well, I think that particular regret would be an especially bitter pill to swallow. I don’t know how many times she’d dispensed that advice and I wonder if others recognized the wisdom in it. I know I did. I only wish I’d gotten it years earlier.

So now I make an effort to really truly communicate with my kids and to truly listen to them when they talk. Not only am I surprised at how much I’ve learned, but I’m shocked at how much they pick up on it. When I’m tired and not really listening to what they are saying they know it and go off to do other things but when I engage and listen they will sit and talk to me for as long as I like most of the time. My favorite invitations in the world are from my kids. My littlest one frequently comes in the living room, gestures toward the toy room and says “Come play with me daddy” (which is way cute, by the way). And I do. We play rockets or pirates or cars or whatever he wants to play. And my middle one asks if she can sit with me and either read, talk or cuddle. And we do. We read or talk about her day and mine or just sit and watch a movie together. And my oldest often calls me up late in the morning and asks if we can have lunch. And we do. We sit and talk about what’s up in her life or about photography or music or boys (ew) or whatever else comes to mind. I think that time is the most rewarding time of my day and I consider it a personal victory that my kids want to spend time with me.

I didn’t always feel that way. I think Rachel got the short end of the stick in a lot of ways. When she was little I was younger and dumber and busier and didn’t yet have that sage advice from a lady in a restaurant. I loved her dearly and showed it in many ways but really listening to her was not among them. I mean, I remember conversations we had when she was little but, in retrospect, I just thought ‘how cute’ while she was being quite earnest. We weren’t really communicating.

And as much as you need to listen to them, you need to be aware they are watching and listening to you. It can be little things or big ones. You just never know what they will pick up. If you leave your stuff laying all over the place they will most certainly start to emulate that behavior. If you use words you’d rather they not (and they don’t have to be the four letter variety) you can bet they will use them too. Usually at church or in a crowded store. If you are nice to someone’s face, but talk about them behind their back, your kids won’t miss that either. They will just think it is normal, acceptable behavior. If you abuse a store’s return policy to ‘rent’ some tool or to return something you broke as defective, you’re teaching them that that is OK too. If you lie to your spouse about where you went or how much you spent, they see that too. And they learn that they should be truthful only when it is convenient. You’ve taught them that honesty is optional. And those are to name but a few. There are good things too that I will get to in a moment, but the bad ones are those I try to be particularly careful of.

But I think that beyond what school teaches them, beyond what they learn from listening to you and beyond what they learn from watching you lie the most important lessons of all. I’m talking about the things that will likely influence how happy they are for the rest of their lives and, as such I think require special attention. A while back I stopped and thought about all the unhappy people I’ve come in contact with over the years and I tried to figure out what the common denominators were in them. Though the list is hardly a big surprise, these are the three biggest things I came up with:

Money. How to make money is a whole other post and something your children will ultimately decide. How to handle what money they do have, on the other hand, is something that woefully few young adults have a handle on. That applies to a lot of older ones to, unfortunately. If you doubt the impact of poor money management on someone’s life consider this: the number one factor leading to divorce is money problems according to several prominent studies. Don’t you think it would be a good idea to equip your children with the skills needed to manage their money. The flip side of that, and I think the bigger challenge, is teaching them to manage their wants. No amount of money will be enough if they spend it frivolously. They need to learn to manage want. If you cater to their every wish you aren’t doing them any favors. Wanting things is a part of life. How we cope with not getting those things is a learned skill.

Relationships. As young children, group dynamics tend to have a life of their own and the kids themselves don’t really have the capacity to understand them, much less change them. As they start getting older, though, you can certainly prepare them to control their own environment more.You can teach them conflict resolution skills that will serve them well for the rest of their lives. And I don’t mean your typical ’stand up to the bully and he will back down.’ That has gotten more kids behinds kicked than I can count. The hows and whys of conflict resolution is beyond the scope of this post, but there are tons of resources out there.

As they get old enough to start thinking of boys and girls as different (but in a good way) they need well established boundaries and a good understanding of what is acceptable behavior and what isn’t. And you need to give them reasons, not just prohibitions. When it comes to prohibitions vs hormones I know where I am putting my money. Give them good reasons and you might get through.

By the time they are allowed to date you need to make sure your kids are prepared in other ways as well. Girls need to know what to look for in a boy. Teach her that if he doesn’t treat her like a princess now she should seriously consider her choices. Ditto for respecting her boundaries. It only goes downhill from here. And you fathers need to instill that in your boys as well. Boys aren’t born knowing how to be a gentleman, they need to be taught. Along with that, you need to teach your boys what to look for in a girl. They need to understand that girls wearing too much makeup and too little clothing probably aren’t their best choices for a fulfilling relationship no matter how tempting they may be.

Boys and girls alike need to understand that popularity and looks are nice, but the are nowhere near as important as the ‘other stuff’. Like most young men I chased after the girls I thought were ‘hot’ but, after catching a few, I came to realize that they often had the personalities of a can of tuna fish and weren’t especially fun to hang around. They need to understand that dating the cheerleader or quarterback can be a real status symbol, but that isn’t why we should choose someone to date. And if they do date them they should expect the same courtesy and respect from them as from anyone else.

At the same time, they need to learn what their roles will be in adult relationships. This is another area where they learn more by observation than by what you tell them. How parents relate has more to do with how a child will act in their subsequent relationships than any other single factor. I see so many parents hide their relationship from their kids and I think that is tragic. I never leave or arrive home without kissing my wife and I don’t let the kids get between us, literally or figuratively. The same goes for those times we snuggle up on the sofa. They are always welcome to join us but have long since learned that trying to pull us apart is useless. They’ve seen us dance and play and be playfully affectionate and I think that is as it should be. And my son is at that age where he shows bouts of physical aggression. The very few times he has tried it with mom I’ve stepped in and explained to him that she is my wife and he will have to deal with me if he does. He has learned the pecking order in the house. That helps now, but more importantly, I hope it will set a model for him as an adult.

I am the head of my household, but I don’t mean that in the way it is typically used. I think too many men latch on to that portion of scripture that has the wife submitting to the husband without reading the bits laying much larger responsibility on their shoulders. You are told that you should love your wife as Christ loved the church; that is, sacrificially. I go off on that tangent to say this: Though the kids know that I have the ultimate say in what goes on in our home, they rarely witness it. For that matter, very few times has it come to that. I don’t make decrees from on high. My wife and I work as a team and the kids know it. They know that what one says goes for both. If we disagree about how something should be handled we generally don’t do it in front of the kids.

Of course, the flip side of that is that they also learn from the times you do have cross words in front of them or the times where we do disagree about how something should be handled. And I’m not sure why, but they seem to pick up the bad much more readily than the good. Human nature I guess. Joe McNally, a famous photographer, has a saying that applies to many areas of life, this one included: “It only takes one ‘oh crap’ to wipe out three attaboys.” Because of that I try to take special care to avoid those moments.

And last, but nowhere near least, teach them the difference between loving someone and being in love with someone. I think most of us have seen marriages fail because they didn’t know what to do once that newness wore off; once they lost that in love feeling. That’s not to say that you can’t be in love. Nearly 20 years later I am in love with my wife, but things are good right now. It’s easy to be in love in good times. It is when times aren’t so good that your kids need to be prepared for. I’ve oft heard it said that marriage is a 50-50 proposition; each of you carries half the load, as it were. Not so. If you are looking for 50-50 you are in trouble. Sure, there are 50-50 moments in any marriage, but the scale is usually skewed one way or the other, even if only slightly. My point is this: If your spouse is only contributing 25% you need to pick up the other 75. Waiting at the halfway mark can be a long and lonely wait. Sometimes it is 100-0. Hopefully not often, but it will happen. Either way, it requires work on your part. Loving someone is a conscious effort that sometimes requires a lot of you. Do your kids a favor and make sure they know that going in. Learning it “on the job” doesn’t always happen and is generally a painful experience if you do.

Self assurance. All of the above is good and necessary, but doesn’t do much good if your kids don’t grow up with the confidence to trust and stand behind their choices. Almost universally if you look at the leaders of any group their most prominent attribute is self assurance.

Let them be themselves and make sure they know how wonderful they are. I tell Courtney every night how beautiful she is without fail. It is part of my mental checklist at bedtime, not that I generally need to remind myself. And, though I no longer tuck Rachel in at night I tell her the same frequently. And I tell Justin what a handsome little man he is. And they know I’m not just saying it. I go out of my way to compliment them each on their achievements and to tell them how proud I am of them, and I am. And I tell them I love them perhaps too much, but I promise they’ll never have any doubt. To this day my mom thinks I am Ansel Adams reincarnate to hear her talk about my photography. While I know it isn’t true I know she thinks it is. I am an OK photographer but to hear her tell it the world is missing out by me not taking more pictures. And that validation to this day still means the world to me and instills confidence

Teach them to learn from their mistakes. If you hide your failures from your kids you are depriving them of a learning opportunity. There is no imperative for kids to think their parents are infallible. If they think you are they feel they have to be, and they’ll never measure up in their own eyes.

But most of all, let them be their own person. Let them wear that horrid outfit they picked out. Let them try that spectacularly bad idea as long as it won’t cause them bodily harm. Let them do what they want on the things that don’t matter. Help them on that project, but only as much as you have to. Let them complete it and they will own the sense of accomplishment. Let them fail and be there to catch them. All of those things build character and make them more comfortable with who they are. No one is more vulnerable than someone looking for outside validation. Kids who need that external approval are open to peer pressure in the worst way. Let them be comfortable enough in their own skin to say no.

Much of this is difficult to do because the framework for how we treat our kids is usually a direct result of how our parents treated us. For me that just drives home how important it is that we as parents get it right. Our shortcomings can cheat not just our kids but theirs as well. We have to buck that trend and learn from our parents mistakes. And our kids will hopefully do the same.

Oh, and all this is for naught if you don’t limit how much you let the television teach them. ‘nuf said.

So as I look back over this long post I realize it comes off a bit preachy. I’ll try to go back and clean it up a bit later, but for now let me say this. The things I’ve listed here are obviously just my opinion and I’ve been known to be wrong, sometimes even twice in one day. And, even assuming I am 100% correct, no one needs to read and re-read this more than I. Living to the ideals I know I should is not easy and I struggle with it each and every day.

I heard a great quote a while ago: “Any man can be a daddy but it takes a real man to be a father.” So every day I attempt to man up and be a father. As often as not I fail, sometimes miserably but it isn’t for lack of trying. In spite of my failures, I think I have three pretty great kids. And that is what keeps me going in the end. I’m thankful that kids are so resilient and I’m just happy when I recognize my mistakes at all. They are just opportunities for improvement.

So, I’ll let them blow bubbles in their milk and I’ll teach them how to make rude noises with their hand in their armpit. They are gonna learn it, may as well be from me. I’ll teach them to tie their shoes and zip zippers. I’ll teach them to whistle and how to fix stuff. I’ll teach them to catch and throw. I’ll teach them to mow grass and how to drive a go-cart. I’ll teach them to swim and to ride a bike and ultimately how to drive. I’ll help them find the words to ask that special someone to the dance. And I’ll be there if they say no. They weren’t good enough for you anyhow. And I’ll be there to help with their homework until they surpass my expertise. That’s all the easy stuff. What I hope I teach them is how to be a good person. How to be a stand-up guy or girl. How to be a true friend to their friends and a good partner to their spouse. I hope to teach them more good than bad through word and deed. I hope they grow up to be better than me, as should  every parent. Wish me luck.

/g

We just came back from our Sunday school Christmas party. It was a lot of fun. There was tons of good food and even more good company. All the women got together in another room and decided to do the newlywed game. Only thing was, they answered all the questions. Only the men were on the hot seat. There were about 20 couples there and we went around the circle until all the questions were answered. Christy and I and the Davidsons (and they are that couple) were the only two who had a perfect score. I’d even corrected two of Christy’s answers. So they asked who had been married longest. They were only 11 years so we had em. Punks! So, who’s the man? *I* am the man. xP At least until tomorrow. lol.

/g

OK, not so much Sundays, I just always liked the title of that song, but rainy days for sure really do get me down. I think I might be solar powered. When I wake up and see that grey light filtering in I just feel like I can’t get out of bed. I want to roll back over, pull the pillow over my head and go back to sleep. Wake me when its sunny again. Thanks.

As if having to get up isn’t bad enough, then I have to, like, you know, go to work. For me that involves an hour commute on a normal day, longer when traffic is bad. Well, bad in relative terms. Traffic is always bad here. My county was the first county outside of LA, NY or DC areas listed in Forbes’ “Worst commutes” article a couple of years ago and Atlanta overall placed second only to LA in this year’s edition. Movin’ up! Yay! Not. And traffic is especially bad on rainy days. I once thought there were more stupid drivers out when it rained then I realized it is the same number of them, just the environment is less forgiving. As a result there are usually at least a couple of fender-benders on the way. When you are already running a 12 lane interstate at capacity the least little thing blows the whole system up. And they are working on a plan to expand it. I-75 will have 23 lanes at it’s widest point downtown. 23. Yeah, that won’t be a problem when there’s a wreck, huh? Anyhow, none of that goes to improve my mood at all.

And then there’s my office. It normally has a great view normally. I can see perhaps 50 miles on a nice day. On a rainy day, though, those same windows fill with grey far more completely than would ground floor windows where there is at least something outside of them. On those really special days (like today was) we are enveloped in clouds so all you see is, well, the inside of a cloud. Bleh. The only way I can get any work done at all is to close the blinds and put my headphones on with something upbeat. Doesn’t help that everyone else there is in a somber mood either. Some rainy days we just meander around the office asking each other what’s up. We just keep doing that until quitting time comes.

The drive home is a repeat of the drive in only a little worse usually. It was about 90 minutes today. The only thing that has salvaged my mood was an exceptional game of racquetball tonight with my bff Tim.   We always amuse each other if no one else. Tomorrow’s forecast? Mostly grumpy with a chance of irritable. lol.

/g

We’ve all heard the phrase “you’re preaching to the chior.” It’s generally used to say “tell me something I don’t already know” but have you ever stopped to consider it in a more literal sense. I have because I’ve long felt that many, if not most, churches fall far short in one rather important area; reaching the non-believer. It varies in degree to be certain, but in my experience more miss the mark than hit it. We tend to focus more and more inward until we have a closed society. This is especially true in the larger churches I’ve seen. Though it has long been a pet peeve of mine, what got me started thinking about it this particular time is something that happened to me this morning.

My son attends pre-school at a rather large church in my area and the kids were doing a Christmas program this morning. Because I needed to go straight to work after the program my wife and I drove separately. I had to stop on the way and drop something off at my middle daughter’s school so I got there a little while after her. Unfortunately, I’d forgotten to ask her where at the church it was specifically. As I said, it is a rather large church so the facility is huge. It consists of 5 or 6 different buildings (none small), all connected to each other. The problem is that they’ve held these programs in the past in the sanctuary, in the chapel and in the children’s building and I hadn’t a clue which it would be in. To make matters worse I couldn’t get Christy on the phone to ask her. And worse yet, it was raining buckets. So I hedged my bets and headed for the chapel. Since it and the sanctuary are adjacent to each other I figured I would increase my odds. Besides, there were some cars parked around that entrance and people walking in.

Well, I got to the chapel and the doors were locked so I headed for the sanctuary doors. An older lady was walking that way and stopped me to ask where I was going. I explained my situation and she informed me that they, meaning whatever group she was with, were having a bible study in the sanctuary. Assuming she was just telling me that it wasn’t in the sanctuary, I thanked her and headed toward the doors. She again stopped me and asked where I was going. I told her that it must be in the children’s building so I was going there. She pointed back toward the parking lot and explained to me that I could drive around to the other side of the building to get there. Given that it was pouring and I was parked perhaps 100 yards from the door (and I didn’t have an umbrella) I gestured toward the rain and told her I knew where it was, but thought I would go through the sanctuary and walk to it indoors. Her response? You can’t, we’re having a bible study in the sanctuary.

Now, there had been a steady stream of people heading in past us so they clearly hadn’t started yet and, even if they had, the sanctuary is positively huge and someone could easily go through there without coming within 50 yards of them. My first impulse was to ask her why she was bothering to go to a bible study if that was her attitude. My second was to suggest that, instead of swapping bread recipes and socializing, perhaps they could, you know, study the bible. It has some things to say she might wanna read. My third, and the one I went with, was to walk back out in the rain getting further soaked and driving around to the children’s building.

My big problem was that, aside from the fact that her attitude (and her demeanor) was extremely rude, it was inexcusable given the location in my opinion. She has no way of knowing rather I knew God or not; many non-believers send their kids there because they happen to have an excellent program. All she knew was that I was a father trying to get in to see my kids Christmas program, that I was parked a long ways out and that it was raining buckets. And her chosen response was to tell me in so many words that she could care less how wet I got, I was not going to cross her turf to get there. Why? Because they were having a bible study there.

Now, I’m not picking on this church. We’ve had kids in the progam there for 5 years now and have met many of their members, a few of which we consider close friends. From my perspective this wasn’t a church issue, it was one with this particular lady, but stop and consider for a moment what that would look like from a prospective non-believer’s point of view. Do you think they would have walked away thinking “that lady was a jerk” (as I did) or “those *#&%(* Christians are all alike”?

I can’t speak for you, but I’ve already registered my vote. I am a firm believer that if we let our beliefs be know publicly we are de facto representatives of the church. If we don’t let them be known… well, I’ll let you reach your own conclusions about that. But when we are standing in front of a church professing to be heading to a bible study there we are absolutely, without doubt putting ourselves out there as representatives of that church and, by extension, God. Is sending people out into the rain for no reason really the message we should be sending?

But, you know, what bothers me more is that she isn’t an isolated case. As I said before, it varies by degree, but that basic attitude has been institutionalized by so much of the body of Christ. We’ve become so insular and so intolerant that we’ve lost our way. I was a clean-cut guy in a shirt and tie, and many if not most of the others there would not have turned me away at the door as she did, but what if I were dressed in shorts and a tee shirt? What if I had long hair? What if I had a few piercings? What if I had tattos covering large parts of my body? What if I had an obviously effiminant nature? My bet is that the number of people who would have turned me away would increase dramatically with each of those.

Who are we to judge anyone, yet we do, and no one does so more visibly or more harshly than the believer in my experience. If someone listens to a style of music they don’t approve of (and God forbid it isn’t ‘Christian music’, if you’ll pardon the pun) or has tattos or piercings or has a lifestyle they don’t approve of - in short, if you don’t look and act like them - then you are automatically shuned.

The book of Mark (2:15-16) talks about Jesus associating with sinners. The Pharisees critized him for doing so and he replied that (paraphrasing) sick people are the ones who need a doctor and that he came to reach not those who thought themselves righteous, but those who knew they were sinners. Well, I feel a little silly pointing this out, but the world we live in is plenty sick. And I’m not saying all people who have tattos or piercings or whatnot are sick, mind you. Though it isn’t my bag, to each his own in that regard. I’ve not found the scripture yet that says thou shalt not tatto or poke holes in thyself. What I’m saying is that the people like I met this morning clearly think they are and their reaction is to close ranks rather than opening arms.

Besides, I happen to think that we should all be very careful about judging others as ’sinners’. That is a slippery slope, my friend, ’cause guess what? We are all sinners, we’re just arguing degrees now. Don’t take my word for it, look it up. In Romans alone you’ll find “For all have sinned and fall short…” and “there is none righteous, no, not one.” Is your sin somehow better than theirs? Was there an exception that I missed to the whole wages of sin thing? And don’t even get me started on the ‘well, their sin is intentional’ argument. Can you honestly tell me you’ve not sinned intentionally? Can you even tell me that there are no ongoing things you do that you know to be sin? Speeding comes to mind as a common example, but I suspect many of us have those that are worse. I know I do. If you still have Romans there in front of you, you might wanna check out chapter 13. It tells us to obey the law. See, we are good at rationalizing those things away as ‘not hurting anyone’ or ‘only a little thing’ but I read through those passages real careful like and I couldn’t find exceptions for not hurting anyone or only little things. And still, we avoid ’sinners’ as if they were plague ridden. I can still recall my parents, thinking they were doing the right thing, refusing to let me hang out with non-believers. I understand their motivation; they didn’t want me exposed to bad influences. But, in doing so, they made sure those potential friends weren’t exposed to good influences either. What message do you think that sends to both your kids and the kids they shun?

I think the way we live our lives is far more of an outreach than knocking on doors or handing out tracts. Not that those things are bad, just that I’ve met too many people who do those things on the weekend then forget all about God for the rest of the week. Those of you reading this who know me and are dialing my number to point out things I’ve done that make me a big ole’ hypocrite, put your phone down. You aren’t going to tell me anything I don’t know. I am certainly not holding myself up as a shining example. In fact, I can recall so many times where I’ve failed the test that I try not to think about it. A prime example is from several years back when I was taking flight lessons. My instructor, Matt, and I became good friends. I was going to church and was around Matt for several hours a week, often in an airplane where it was just the two of us killing time and chatting. He’d had some bad experiences earlier in life and was mildly hostile toward any religion so I didn’t once bring up God. Not once. Not that I denied anything, I just didn’t mention Him, or church at all for that matter. During that same time, unbeknownst to me, there was another student who was talking to him about God. One day, out of the blue (pardon the pun), Matt mentions having gone to church that weekend. I was suprised and asked him about it and he told me about this other student talking to him and how he’d accepted Christ. He was witnessing to me. I was honestly so ashamed at that moment that I didn’t say anything until much later. It was not a high point in my walk, but I like to think I’ve learned from it. So, yeah, tell me something I don’t already know.

But beyond being a living example, what good is living our lives right if we only do it around each other? In terms of reaching others, I mean? Most of the church people I know wouldn’t be caught dead in a bar, for example. But, why? Jesus went into some seedy places; why are we any better? I’m not saying to go in and do jello shots with everyone, but would being there and talking to the locals be so bad? One of the nicest guys I know goes to a local bar every Thursday night to play trivia. He has made many friends there and a couple have even begun attending church with him.

While contemplating this post today I happened to hear “Killing in the Name”* by Rage Against the Machine on the radio. The song is open to some interpretation, but not by much. It is widely accepted to be commentary on how those in power, those who should know better, are often the ones commiting the worst attrocities or looking the other way while others do. Such was the case with the KKK and the song doesn’t miss that point (“Some of those that work forces are the same that burn crosses.” and “You justify those that died by wearing the badge, you’re the chosen whites”). That particular stain on our history did most of what they did claiming God’s will as their motivation, and they are hardly the only ones in history to have done so. Everyone from ‘new age’ spiritualists to palm readers use common religious symbology and assume just enough of the language to be confusing. How are the masses going to decipher what the truth is if we aren’t out there among them? Who, exactly, are we supposed to be reaching inside the four walls of the church. Just my two cents. Keep the change.

I was mad this morning. Really mad. I had that woman all sized up and judged. Then I realized what a complete hypocrite I was. Mark that off my to-do list. Big ole’ hypocrite… check! Look, I don’t know why she is like she is or why she did what she did, but I can honestly say I’m no longer mad at her in the least; me, I’m still a little mad at. My reaction was no better than her action if you look under the covers. I was going to say that she and people like her should be thankful that God is more merciful than she is. Let me revise that to say that we all should. Most of all me.

/g

* Caution: I’ve always liked that song a lot. If you are in the mood for something with a little edge, it would be a good one. The problem is this: I didn’t know it, but the version I always knew was the radio edit. When I looked it up online to link to it here I discovered the album version is a bit different. It is good until the last refrain where it goes decidedly off the deep end language-wise so I’ve decided not to link to it. If you choose to seek it out yourself, you’ve been warned. At least close it before the last minute or so…

Today was Justin’s fourth birthday. Man, he is growing up so fast! So we had a party for him at Build-A-Bear where we, of course, let him pick whichever animal he wanted and whatever add-ons within reason. Well, it was a proud moment for daddy. My son made the Rabbit of Caerbannog, and he hasn’t even seen Holy Grail. Man, the boy’s got instincts. Must be genetics, I tell ya.

For those of you not familiar with the Rabbit of Caerbannog, it is the killer rabbit from the above mentioned movie. Well, you just have to see it. If you don’t get Monty Python humor then forget I mentioned it. For the rest of you, here is what my little prodigy did…

He went through all the potential animals and picked this cute lil’ bunny. I’m down with that, I happen to dig bunnies. Then he went over to the workstation where you can pick the little sound things they can put in them and picked a sound. This is what he picked. Sorry I had to link out to their site but I couldn’t download the sound to put it here directly. Anyhow, he insisted that that was the sound for his bunny. My buddy Tim and I were barely able to contain ourselves. I tried to get Justin to name him Caerbannog but he’d already decided on a name and wouldn’t budge.

As for Tim and I, well, we spent the rest of the party quietly quoting lines from the movie back and forth. Yes, we amuse that easily…

Me: Dennis, there's some lovely filth down here.

Tim:  Be quiet!  I order you to be quiet!
Me:  Order, eh -- who does he think he is?
Tim:  I am your king!
Me:  Well, I didn't vote for you.
Tim:  You don't vote for kings.
Me:  Well, 'ow did you become king then?

And a stirring two man rendition of Bring Out Your Dead:

      Bring out your dead!
      [clang]
      Bring out your dead!
  CUSTOMER:  Here's one -- nine pence.
  OLD MAN:  I'm not dead!
  MORTICIAN:  What?
  CUSTOMER:  Nothing -- here's your nine pence.
  OLD MAN:  I'm not dead!
  MORTICIAN:  He says he's not dead!
  CUSTOMER:  Yes, he is.
  OLD MAN:  I'm not!
  MORTICIAN:  He isn't.
  CUSTOMER:  Well, he will be soon, he's very ill.
  OLD MAN:  I'm getting better!
  CUSTOMER:  No, you're not -- you'll be stone dead in a moment.
  MORTICIAN:  Oh, I can't take him like that -- it's against regulations.
  OLD MAN:  I don't want to go in the cart!
  CUSTOMER:  Oh, don't be such a baby.
  MORTICIAN:  I can't take him...
  OLD MAN:  I feel fine!
  CUSTOMER:  Oh, do us a favor...
  MORTICIAN:  I can't.
  CUSTOMER:  Well, can you hang around a couple of minutes?  He won't
      be long.

And, of course, whatever bits we could remember of the classic What Kind of Swallow bit. Before anyone points out what an off color movie Holy Grail is, yes I know that. I haven’t watched it in a very long time, but some bits of it were very funny and kinda stick with you.

Anyhow, so the party was very cute and we now have a killer rabbit in the house. I’ll put some very cute pics from the party up tomorrow (Tue) but for now I need some sleep! G’nite! update: The pics are now added. You can click on any of em for a bigger version. Peace.

/g

We wash the newly minted bunny…

Then did the singin’ and candles…

Then ate the cake. Well, cupcakes…

Then opened presents.

Almost as amusing as Justin’s roaring bunny was poor little
Nickolas. He said the stuffing machine was too loud.

And he spent the entire time they
were making the bears like that.
Too stinkin’ cute!

But, he seemed pleased with the end results.

This has nothing to do with the
party, I just was sitting at the
kitchen table when Courtney
walked up lookin all cute. So,
I took this impromptu window
light portrait. It needs work
but she was still too cute.