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January 28, 2015


She looked in the mirror and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and smiled at her reflection. My daughter with the large brown eyes of her mother told the girl in the glass looking back at her that she wanted a little sister, that she would then be the oldest, that she would let her play with her toys and wear her clothes and I stood by wondering if I wanted the same thing. I wondered if I wanted it for myself or for her or her mother or maybe a combination of all the above.

We’ve had this conversation before, the talk of extending this little family of ours again by having another child yet we never come to a complete agreement on either end. There are times when my doubts overshadow my wife’s desires and then come the moments when her fears scare away my fever and we’re left reading from the page the other just read, just not the same page at the same time when this topic is involved.

To think I’ve already changed my last diaper or willed my last burp from a baby’s back with the palm of my hand or comforted and calmed a restless night of teething, to think it’s over clouds my judgment. To think I could have savored the months of exploration and discovery a little more or cherished the days of feeding her first while my food grew cold instead of wishing them away or settled in for one more nap with an infant on my bare chest letting our hearts sync, to think those days have come and gone without being prepared to soak in them a little more feels like a bath where the plug was pulled too soon.

We were so clueless the first time around and yet we managed to create something, someone so perfect and beautiful and flawless that we made it up as we went in the days that followed completely mesmerized by her. Sometimes I remember those days clearly the way she would lift her feet towards my face so I could blow between her toes or the way she threw her head back just before she fell asleep mimicking the exact position she was in during her mother’s ultrasound when we got our first glimpse of her. 

Sometimes those days seem distant, the little girl in our home with 3 years of experience and learning more by the hour consumes us completely and the early days with her seem to slip further and further away. Would having another one allow us the opportunity to recreate those moments? Is that even a valid reason to have another? The love between us personified amazes me anytime I stop to reflect on the life we created together, of the life we’re building together, and I can’t help but wonder if we could do it again. If we could possibly ask God for another blessing as big as the one He has already given us.

January 26, 2015


I looked over my shoulder hoping they would catch the hint I threw at them; the four teenagers sitting directly behind my three year old daughter discussing the indiscretions of their weekend. The details and the word choices and the content were all things that should have been part of a conversation behind closed doors, not one had in public where children were around.

Before I could settle the internal debate of being that guy and saying something to the unruly and disrespectful young adults they gathered their things and found the exit. However, their foul language left a bad taste in my mouth and when I mentioned it to my wife later she admitted she didn’t hear anything they said among the other mumbling chatter of the restaurant. 

Has fatherhood made me hypersensitive of my surroundings? I had my back to them with my daughter at my side yet I heard every word crystal clear and it left much to be desired regarding the state of our youth. I feel like someone’s grandfather by even admitting that, but it’s true. Somewhere along the way, this generation missed the memo on respect… where’s Aretha when you need her?

January 22, 2015


I'm not sure if these are amusing to anyone else or just my wife, Allison, and me since we're her parents, but I have a feeling we'll look back one day enjoying that we captured some of Madison's random little comments (click here for more).

MADISON:  Sometimes I call Nana... Nana Banana.
ME:  You do?
MADISON:  And sometimes I call her Nana Ba-apple.


ME:  You're very observant.
MADISON:  I am not a doughnut.


While brushing her hair...
ME:  Your hair is getting really long.
MADISON:  I know. If it keeps growing it might fall in the toilet.


ME:  Do you want Mama to have another baby?
MADISON:  Yeah, but first we should probably get a kitty cat.


MADISON:  Boys are stinky.
ME:  Why do you say that?
MADISON:  Because they poot a lot.

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