These two words carry with them a wide array of emotions. Some can hope never to hear those two words, while others rejoice in the news. I can still remember those words as they were told me one winter day in January 1999. It was very soon after our New Year’s Eve party and I thought it odd that my wife had passed out so easily and that she threw up so violently for days after. That was one of the worst hangovers I had ever seen I thought at the time. Not very long after, she gave me the news. She uttered those two words.

We were only dating at the time and had not yet wed. We seemed to have done everything in the wrong order back in those days. We had gone on a honeymoon type cruise before that , then came baby in a baby carriage, then we were married four months later. This was very cool roller coaster ride for me. I look back on it now with fond memories, but as it related to those two words on that fateful day I can only hope to express how I felt that day.

People talk about that “burning bush” moment or that touched with the hand of God moment. This is what it felt like for me. Like the seen “Raiders of the Lost Ark” when the bolt of light went through the bodies of the German soldiers, I too was floored by that beam of light. The difference is I didn’t die. I was taken to a place of serenity, of warmth and a feeling of being uplifted. My prayers for so many years had been answered in two small words. I had truly been touched by the hand of God. He smiled along with me that day. I cannot better describe the feeling.

I also saw Mrs. G in a whole different light. Sure she was my best friend, my confident, and lover. Now she had added a new category to her meaningfulness in my life. She was going to be the mother of my blessing, the bringer of my gift and the messenger of my answer to prayers. If you are a mother or even an expectant mother, ask the father of your child to explain the feeling he had when you uttered those two words. I would bet he has a hard time describing it in a single sentence. As I look back on this post, it does not do justice to my feelings, but I cannot put to words the miracle of that day.

[Photo courtesy of Pink Moose]

It seems with the economy leaning on us, the war in Iraq seemingly never ending and all the other gloom and doom that we deal with on a day-to-day basis, we could get just a glimmer or glint of light. We are surrounded by darkness, and a squeezing world of difficulty that has no oxygen. We cannot begin to climb out of despair and then something happens in this world that makes us feel blessed or makes us feel that we are truly lucky to be alive and to have people that love and care about us.

I wept a little inside when I read about the Texas family that was killed in a small plane crash. The AP reported:

Thomas Paul Jacomini Jr. was piloting the four-seater Cessna 182 when it left Steamboat Springs on Friday, sheriff’s officials said. His wife, 8-year-old son and 6-year-old daughter were also on board, sheriff’s spokeswoman Paulette Horr said.

A family enjoying themselves on a vacation and headed to the safety of home was snuffed out in a single incident. The father and mother that had a vibrant family are gone. The children that had an entire life before them are now a part of history instead of part of a future. A part of me weeps still, but it also reminds me that in an instant all that we value and love can be taken away from us without any reason or cause. We can lose everything as quickly as it was bestowed upon us. Life is precious and short and it must be treasured.

As we begin a week of new beginnings, it is also another day we can be thankful for what we have and the blessings we have been given. Take a moment and think about this family, give them a moment of silence, and then seek out your own family and hug them tell them how much you love them and make sure to give thanks for the blessings you have and those that have not been taken so suddenly away from you.

I was going through my search feeds this morning and ran across something that caught my eye. Not because it was about the lovely and overall hotness of Eva Longoria, although that in itself may be enough to get my attention, but the headline of the post.

Eva Longoria Parker “Desperately” Wants A Baby, Producer Says

Yes, even I read The Celebrity Baby Blog, if nothing more than to find out that celebrities have a tough time raising kids. Well that is not usually what gets reported but you and I know better. The post title used apparently the quote from the producer.
Desperate. I never thought of having babies and the word desperate in the same sentence. Don’t get me wrong I know of many people that for one reason or another cannot have children. In fact, I read many infertility blogs about parents that have tried and failed to have children. The notion of that breaks my heart.

In my first marriage, both of us wanted children. We were both healthy adults and both prepared for our world as parents. For nearly seven years we tried. We tried ovulation charts and rhythm methods and many other tactics, even standing on your head just to see if it worked. This was all to no avail. I suppose it was a blessing as I later became divorced and would never speak another word to my ex-wife after that time. It was like a bad dream and a chapter in my book to get to the next and better part of my life.

Mrs. G and I never had a problem with the notion of conception. We often joked that every time my wife did the laundry, she turned up pregnant. No, that doesn’t mean that my wife only did laundry once a year. Nearly all of our married life was spent birthing our four children. I think we still need to figure out a way to be a married couple and not be pregnant, which in itself is an entirely whole other blog post.

Desperate. Why Eva is their desperation to have a child? Are we trying to keep up with the rest of the crowd in Hollywood? It seems that the new black is pregnancy these days. Do you think that a child and baby is going to fill a void in you and make you a whole person? If that is the case I’ll pray for you as you perhaps have more issues than you realize.

Having a child is a miracle. It is a blessing. God will provide that miracle and blessing when the time is right. In my first marriage, the time was not right. In my life with Mrs. G every time she did laundry the time was right. To my friends that are having problem with infertility, there is always a reason. Perhaps not the reason you may agree with, but there is a reason. All of you will be loving parents if the child comes as easy as mine have or if you must adopt or have other measures to accomplish your goals. Never be desperate, but know that when a child comes and you hold them for the first time, the only thing that remains desperate in your world is the health, the safety, and the welfare of that child.

I recently watched this movie on television starring Will Smith. The movie is a must see for fathers that take personal pride in being a dad. It shows the struggles of what it is like to be a single father and how much life can be a struggle at times. One of the moments in the movie that struck me profoundly was the joke that was told by Will Smith’s character’s son (his son in real life I should add). I am sure it won’t do the joke justice but it went something like:

A man was drowning in a river when a boat came by. The boat asked if the man wanted help, he he turned down the help stating that God would save him. A while passed and another boat came by and asked again if it could give the man a ride. The man again stated that God would save him and that he did not need the help of the boat. The man eventually drowned and was at the gates of heaven and asked God why he had not saved the man from drowning and God said “What more did you want I sent you 2 boats.”

The joke was a great joke for a son to tell a father as they worked at daily survival. I saw right through to the irony of the joke and it was a great part of the movie that helped drive home the plight of a man trying to survive daily life with his son. It also rang true with my own life as I too feel at times I am drowning in that same river. What is difficult is to determine if and when your boat arrives. Not every time can we determine if there has been a boat sent by God to save us. As I struggle with life and its quirks and how I feel like the water gets too deep, too cold, and more than I can handle, I sometimes pray for God to save me. Now I need to remember to have him give me the wisdom to know when he has actually sent the boat.

Dear Mrs. G,

I am not a person of high finance. I am not a math wiz.  I have never been good with numbers unless of course it was to call a play in the huddle. This is why I would never make an accountant and why many of the jobs I wanted as a kid were squelched as a result.  Math teacher?  Never Happen.

Many Years ago I asked that you be the bookkeeper of this family.  The minute I heard you liked math I knew it was the perfect job for you.  It was perfect for you because it was really a job I hated. I did it because I had to, and not because it was a gift I had.  You took the job and I washed my hands of it.  I turned over the money and you managed it.  Recently, and because I have now taken on a different role in our family, I have been responsible for paying bills.  I must say now.  I am very sorry.  I have been living through your hell for the last 6-8 weeks.  The stress you must have been under all that time while I was out living like a rockstar must have been unbearable.  Yes, I remember your small cries for help but they fell upon deaf ears and a tragic brush off of “it ain’t my responsibility.” I could not be more clear on this, you were a saint to put up with the horror of living the way you were.  Juggling bills, robbing Peter to pay Paul, and coming up with strategies had to be exhausting.  My eyes are seeing things through yours for the first time and I am ashamed I did not help beyond the occasional check to be deposited and the “whatever” attitude I took.

I know that this is little solace to the fact that I have only been doing this a short time and you were doing it 24/7 for the last 10 years, but I am up to the task of slaying this dragon we call our family finances.  I have been to that place you have lived so many years and I never want to have to experience that again.  I am here to take the onslaught of battles we have in the future.  I want to help.  I can’t do it without you.

Your humbled bookkeeper/husband,

Genuine

I was wondering the other day what motivates me. Many people I know are motivated by fear, some are motivated by the sense of accomplishment. Some others are motivated by a higher power. Myself, I believe that I am motivated by praise, praise in the form of a cheer.

I was a big sports guy in high school and I loved to be cheered. The more the crowd cheered the more I put my heart into something. I think that has carried over to my regular life. I can remember when I was working for the man. If I could get my boss to tell me i did a good job, I would make sure I did better than that the next time. I saw others in my business fearful of losing their jobs and would make sure they did everything they could to make sure they would not be fired. They lived in constant fear and that always seemed wrong to me. I think it had to do with self-esteem. They didn’t trust that they could do the job so they did it in fear of losing it. I knew I was able to do the job but wanted to do it better than everyone else.

This is all so far been speaking of motivation in the job place. Does this carry over to real life? How about for a marriage to your spouse, or a parent to your children? Are you fearful of not being a good spouse or parent? Does that motivate you to be better? Do you get your motivation like me in that you want to be the best possible parent you could be? My scenario comes with it a sense of wanting to be rewarded for doing something that is expected anyway. I have been asking myself this for a while. I was taught long ago that if you question whether you are a good Christian, you probably were, and I think you can substitute other words for that, be it Dad, Mom, Parent, child, etc.

I guess this is where my ego comes into play. I want to be pumped up to do the job. I need to have a cheerleader on the sideline. I think when I was first dating and actually soon after I was married, I was on always on top and could always hear the cheers. I got to be the cool guy and my girlfriend and later wife cheered me on and made me want to impress her even more with my ability to be a provider and to work hard and to play hard.

Children on the other hand always put their parents on a pedestal in most cases, of course, until the grow up and realize parents are actually human. They think Daddy can leap tall buildings and that if he really wanted to he could actually fly. They look to us for their protection, their guidance, and wisdom about the things they do not know. This is an ultimate motivation for me. So what happens when they stop cheering? What happens when your spouse begins to say ho-hum, what have you done for me lately? Children find out that Daddy could not jump the fence without hurting himself and they find that his wisdom is called in to question now and then. Now I find that I am motivated by fear. Fear that perhaps they might just feel that I have nothing that I can provide them, nothing that is new and fresh, and nothing I have to offer do they need.

The things I could do now with just a small cheer. I could move the highest of mountains. I crave the cheer, but the fans seem to have left the stadium, the speakers are no longer calling my name and the lights have been turned out. I stand in an empty stadium with nothing but my own fear of being there alone. Is there hope for the man who needs to be cheered? What happens with the cheerleaders no longer cheer? Can fear of losing all of this be taught?

[photo courtesy of Paul Keleher]

I’m old. Not in the sense that 44 is old, but the life I have lived so far makes me feel like a 100 years old. I always joke about the fact that I may be young but my body is a few years ahead of the age. The bumps and bruises I have received over the years are too many to count and some have not recently faded. I’m feeling old these days not just because of the bumps I have received along the way but because as I look back I seem to have lived more lives than a city full of alley cats.

I look back on the early days of childhood and it feel like a lifetime. I looked back again at my school years and again another lifetime. Then there was the after school years when I wanted to establish myself and begin life, you guessed it, another lifetime. Many people call these chapters in life, but to me they feel like they have taken their toll to me as lifetimes. Each chapter chips away at a stone, and it pokes another hole in the hourglass that makes another hole for the sand to seep out faster and and faster. Each chapter feels like a check that gets larger and makes the bank account of life years disappear more than I can control. My odometer is spinning like a 2008 gas pump now and I can’t stop the price rising. What is the mileage of your odometer?

[Photo courtesy of Kyle May]

Many people like to look at a blank canvas and paint their own picture. Some when moving into a new home and beginning a new life like to have fresh white walls to begin anew. They want to start their own way and decorate their life into their own patterns and colors. Such is for those sometimes when something begins anew in their lives, They like to paint over the old and start with a fresh new pattern and color. They start by priming the wall, covering up old wear and tear and covering up old blemishes to to allow for that fresh coat of new color. In order for this to be complete you need to start with a perfect base.

What people need to make sure of is that the old damage and nicks and scrapes and blemishes are first fixed before they begin to prime and prepare for the new. This is essential before adding their new color and pattern. If you leave holes and non-repaired damage the final product will still be shown as ugly and ill-prepared. Such is the case when you start something new.

I have been thinking about a number of things beginning again, and I am thinking about how I should prime the wall to cover up the old mistakes or to start a nice foundation. I also began to think and notice that there were things that couldn’t be covered up no matter how much primer was added to the wall. These things must first be repaired, patched, filled and sanded nicely. The mistakes must be corrected, lessons learned and set aside. Then the primer can be added to make a nice and neat foundation to add your colors patterns and decoration. I think I’ll work a little on those repairs. Now to pick out that new color and pattern.

[Photo courtesy of ToastyKen]

That line is a classic line from a movie that I really love to watch. As he sits on the table getting his midsection stapled back together he coins that phrase. Let me be the first to say–only in Hollywood. I can assure you that pain does in fact exist. I for one can attest that all one has to have is to be thrown from a moving vehicle after being dragged two blocks to understand the concept. We have all experienced pain to certain levels, and some are better at receiving and dealing with pain than others. My tolerance for pain is different in different circumstances. My pain level is in direct response to the sympathy I can derive immediately upon injury. In fact I have seen in in my kids when they bump their head. They are more likely to shake off injury if Mom or Dad are not watching, and can be in the throes of death if Mommy or Daddy rushes to their side from the same injury. Now don’t get me wrong, I have no tolerance for pain that might allow me to birth a child. Last night I heard the analogy of pulling my scrotum over my head and I think I would have passed on long before they reached my navel.

I feel the same for psychological pain. Growing up my father could yell and scream at me until the cows came home and I always had that “whatever dad” approach. Sorry Dad, it was in my DNA. My brother on the other hand would lose his mind if my Dad looked at him with those stern eyes and lifted brow. One is not different from the other however and I guess in a sense we all like to think that psychological pain unlike physical pain “don’t hurt.” I say this because I was wondering about the pain our kids feel when we are angry or we scold them or they experience something that injects that feeling. I suppose it is the same and pain tolerance on both ends can be judged differently. The key is to know those pain levels. I have a son that is very much like i used to be, and I think he is the payback my Dad paid for and prayed for all those years ago. I also think I have the fragile child that can cry for looking over and raising an eyebrow. The key I think as a parent is to know those thresholds and to make sure you understand them. What is your pain threshold? Physically? Mentally?

[photo via kamaru ]

The world watched as you came into my life.  I was so excited I could not begin to put words to your introduction into my life, but I tried.  It was the last time I would have the experience and the last time I would be able to, but it left an indelible mark as did any of the others, and it was my last taste of miracles that I would call my children.  I am sure there are other experiences in this world for me but none more lasting and more fulfilling than the birth of a child and the gift I was given that day.

They call you “Daddy’s Boy.”  I’m not sure why but to say that you and I have known each other the longest on a more personal level.  I have been a longer part of your daily life than others. You have helped me grow as a stay at home dad, and as a daily hands on parent, and have helped me to understand the others in different eyes.  I have been with you through teething, through sickness, through joy and laughter on a daily basis.  The other children I was not able to experience these things in my previous career, but with you I had an up close and personal look at what it is like to be a baby and a toddler. I was able to teach you certain things and be there to be a part of your triumphs and your failures, and to praise you or console you as each moment was experienced.  Today you celebrate your third year as my third son.  I hope that this day brings your the joy it did when I held you for the first time and introduced myself as your daddy.  I remember saying to myself in a quip as I saw you lying in your crib in our home for the first time…”and then there were three.”  God blessed me with you and now I hope he can bless you with a beautiful birthday!

I hope you are dreaming of all you want in this world and that those dreams come true.  You were my dream, a gift, a blessing.