A lot people grow up wanting to be a doctor, policeman, firefighter, CEO, etc. My wife grew up knowing she wanted to be a surrogate.

It started with a promise between her and her sister. At a young age, they agreed that if one of them couldn’t have kids, the other one would carry for the other. I don’t know what kind of sisters make that pact, but they are amazing ones.

Fast forward about 30 years. We have two wonderful little girls. Our family is set. We’re happy. We’re blessed. We’re fortunate. It wasn’t easy though.

Our first child, “Littles” wasn’t conceived the old-fashioned way; well she was, but we needed a little help. A couple of procedures, a couple of drugs, and we were good to go. After about a year in the process, we got the amazing news the wife was pregnant. Looking back, I think the difficulty of conceiving Littles cemented the wife’s decision to be a surrogate.

Littles was delivered the old-fashioned way…all natural, quick and dirty.  That was the wife’s goal and she did it. It was pretty much the most amazing and toughest thing I have ever seen…and I know I couldn’t have done it. Seven hours of labor, an hour of pushing, and “Littles” was ours. A gift from God. We love her!

The only hitch in Littles delivery was the scariest moment in my life. I’m not sure what it is called, but the placenta didn’t detach correctly and so when it came out, I saw my wife bleeding out for about 15 seconds. “All hands on deck” ensued and the wonderful doctors and midwives stopped the bleeding, but for a brief minute that felt like an hour, I was holding my little girl and praying I wouldn’t be doing this alone. I was terrified. I was later told it wasn’t a big deal and that it’s perfectly normal, and everything was fine, but still. I was shaken up pretty good. This event would not only weigh in on the decision for a second child, but for the surrogate as well.

I got over it as much as I could and we decided to have another. Our second child, “Tiny” was just the opposite, which is fitting because our kids are opposites. Littles is the cautious/mothering type. Tiny is a fireball. We call her “Hey Hey” from Moana, or “Jack Jack” from The Incredibles. That should explain it. She’s crazy and we love her.

Tiny was a piece of cake to conceive, but her delivery was not like the first. We had the same plan as the first, but it didn’t work that way. When it was “go time” the wife labored for 24 hours without any progress. It’s called prodromal labor. In short, it sucks. You basically labor, expect every time you’re checked, you’re “still at a two.”  It’s absolutely frustrating and demoralizing.  Finally, the reluctant decision was made to have an epidural. It didn’t work. The wife couldn’t move anything, but she could feel everything. Plus, the drugs made her feel like she couldn’t breathe and made her really sick. Finally, the wife puked, and said, “I felt the baby move!” She puked again and said, “I think she’s out!” I pulled back her sheets, and there was Tiny all covered in goo! There wasn’t even a doctor or midwife in the room! The nurse called the midwife who scooped up our baby girl and put her in mommy’s arms. We were thrilled! (The video is awesome).

Our kids aren’t Littles and Tiny anymore (sniff sniff). Now I call them “Pen” and “JoJo.” They’re 5 and 2 1/2. Happy birthday today, Pen!!! They’re both potty trained, sleep through the night, and sleep in big girl beds. Life is fun. We’re done having kids. When we talk about “starting over” we laugh. Diapers, sleepless nights, and feedings…we have no desire to do that again; but, the wife remembered her pact. She also wanted to deliver naturally again and she wanted to give someone else the gift of life. If you know her, you know she’s an amazing person that way.

The wife and I talked about it a little bit, and if you know my wife, when you put the wheels in motion, they rarely stop.  One day she came home and told me about an agency that deals with surrogates. “They pair you up with couples who want kids, who for whatever reason, can’t have them. I’ve always felt called to do this. What do you think?” she asked.

Wow.  So, we talked. We looked over the information.  We weighed the pros and cons. I talked about my deepest fear (my PTSD about our first birth and raising two girls on my own if anything happened). We took a questionnaire from the agency. We did some more research.  We looked at some profiles of people.  We prayed.  We went over the pros and cons again.  This was how it went for a month or so.  I finally said, “It’s your body, I’ll support you.”

Thus, the journey began. After some time, we were paired with a couple. We met. We went out to dinner. They told us their story. They seemed like good people, and they are.  It made sense. If we were going to do this, this would be the couple.

Make no mistake, this is a journey. A lot of people think of pregnancy as 9 months and you’re done. It’s not. This isn’t a movie. There were hormones and drugs involved. Two surgeries were needed to make sure her uterus was in pristine condition. Tons of tests were done. Lots of blood was drawn. Processes were started, paused, delayed, and restarted. I also had to give her shots…every day. “Okay, breathe, here it comes.” She had two large black circles drawn with a sharpie on her hips for months. That’s where the shots went. She was always black and blue inside those circles. Eventually, she learned to give the shots to herself. This went on for months. Finally, she was ready for implantation day. I’ll describe it in three words: Incredible, invasive, miraculous.

Okay, so now we wait to see if she’s knocked up.  If I recall correctly, we knew within a week.  Now it’s 10 more months.

The surrogate pregnancy was nothing like our other two.  The first pregnancy was magical.

The wife went about her daily routine. She slept when she got tired, she ate when she was hungry, she did yoga, she wasn’t really sick, and we really enjoyed it. The wife even worked until the day before giving birth.  I have never seen anyone happier pregnant. The second pregnancy, well…we have a kid. You can’t nap whenever you want. That alone makes it a little less magical. When you become a parent, you realize sleep is one of the more valuable assets you have, only you get less of it.  You have a living breathing person who needs their needs met…and now.  The wife couldn’t relax as much, but overall it was still good.  The surrogate pregnancy was much different.

The surrogate pregnancy was tough, to the point we questioned our decision.  Since it had literally none of our DNA, the body sees the pregnancy as foreign and fights it, or at least makes it more difficult. The wife was sick, she had headaches, her body ached, she couldn’t sleep well, and she snored like a train. To top it off, the placenta attached in a weird spot, and toward the end she was preeclamptic.  She was miserable.  Combine that with chasing two kids around, helping run a household, and running her own business…well…it was a lot.  At about week 28, we had hit a wall and second guessed ourselves.  Questions were asked, “Why was something so good, so hard?  Why did we do this?”  We had some regret.  Tears were shed.  Then, we found out the wife would most likely need a c-section. One of the reasons she did this was to get another crack at doing another natural birth.  Now that was gone too!  As it turns out, 50-60% of surrogate pregnancies result in c-sections because it’s just not a natural thing.  I remember us saying to each other, “If we would have known at the beginning what we know now, we probably wouldn’t have done it.”  We felt guilty.  We felt terrible.  Was it worth it?

This seems like a good time to talk about the elephant in the room.  In many conversations we’ve had with others, this question invariably came up in some form.  “Don’t surrogates make good money?”  We did receive some compensation for this, but we will not be retiring tomorrow.  Does the money we received help?  Sure.  Are we going to celebrate with some of it?  You bet!  However, this was never about money.  If anyone knows my wife, they know better.  This has to be an altruistic decision.  There’s a lot of other easier and less risky things you could do for 17 months that would make you this amount of money.  I couldn’t have even imagined doing this if the only reason was money.  Literally nothing, except for the end result of a living baby went to plan.  It was nothing that we imagined it would be, until the birth; then it all made sense.

Looking back, the whole process of the pregnancy is amazing.  A life was created in a lab, then frozen, then thawed out, then implanted into another person, and it still grew!  That’s amazing.  The incredible skill of the doctors to perform an operation to remove the baby.  Again, amazing.  I had a bird’s eye view of the entire thing.  I couldn’t resist.  I had to see it and it was incredible.  The precision, delicacy, and intelligence of these doctors was staggering.  I can’t imagine having the life of someone in my hands like that.

(What I didn’t realize is that my worst fear was closer to happening than I realized.  While I was watching the birth, I heard the doctors counting, “900, 1100, 1300, 1500.”  My wife heard it too and asked me to sit down.  I remember thinking, “Why?”  Later, she told me those numbers represented the amount of blood she was losing. 1500 milliliters.  That’s about a third of her blood.  It was the placenta again.  I am so glad I did not put that together at that time and I am so thankful for those doctors who didn’t even flinch.  I totally had no idea anything serious was going on.  I was just watching a baby being born…or so I thought.)

What I was really watching was a miracle from God.  If you want to see a modern day miracle from God, be a surrogate.  I could see it in the mother’s eyes.  I have seen the look in a new mother’s eyes, my wife and I have two amazing girls.  There’s joy, amazement, awe, and a little tired.  The look in this mother’s eyes was different.  Sure, the unbridled joy was there, but there was something else too.  I could literally see years of heartache, pain, frustration, doubt, and anxiety melt away.  I could see her little boy becoming a big brother.  I could see the relief as she looked at her husband, almost as if she couldn’t believe this day was finally here.  She had tears in her eyes, her hand was over her mouth, and in her eyes, her family became whole.  I will never forget that sight.  In that moment, every question I ever had about this process was answered, and I am so glad God put it on my wife’s heart to carry this child.

Welcome home, Baby A.  You are a 4 pound 2 ounce baby girl that came into this world on October 1st, 2018 at 10:48pm.  Live your life and tell your story because you are a miracle from God.

(I’m listening to “Nothingman” by Pearl Jam)

I turned 40 a few weeks ago.  It’s a strange birthday.  You’re not young anymore, but you’re not old, but you’re getting older.  Whatever.

For my 40th I decided I was going to climb 14er.  For those of you outside of Colorado, climbing a 14er means climbing a 14,000 foot mountain.  The widely accepted number of 14ers in Colorado is 53 and I was going to climb my first.

At the beginning of the year, I set a goal to be in the best shape of my life by the time I turned 40.  I’m not there yet, but I’m getting there.  It’s one thing to be 40, it’s quite another to feel 40.  So, I started eating healthier, running, working out, and going to the YMCA.  I figured a 14er would be a good test.

(Sidenote: My goal has also come in handy to keep off the pregnancy weight.  The wife is pregnant with someone else’s child (she’s a surrogate).  With our first two kids, I gained 10 pounds each time, so I’m not doing that again.  At 40, 10 pounds might take 6 months to lose.  So, when the wife is having 4th meal, I’m at the gym or running or doing anything else that keeps me from eating at 9:30pm.)

Anyway, I had heard 14ers are tough.  When I asked one buddy of mine if he wanted to join me he just said, “Naw, I’ll just be swearing the whole way up.”  Alright.  I didn’t let that sway my ambition.  I’ve spent a lot of time in the mountains hiking and snowboarding so I felt confident in my ability, but as I was doing some research on which 14er to climb, I did look for “easier” ones.

I settled on Mt. Bierstadt which is 14,065 feet.  One of my good friends agreed to come along, so on July 12th, 2018 at 5am I picked him up to embark on the 7 mile round trip climb that would see us gain almost 3,000 feet in elevation.  We were at the trail head by 6am and out on the trail by 6:15.  The sun was just coming up over the peaks, it was 44 degrees, and we were layered up just like a good Coloradan would be.

That lasted maybe a mile.  At 11,800 feet we began to climb up a shoulder.  Soon we were stripping off layers like…anyway, we were getting warm.  Sweat started to run down our faces and it felt good to have the mountain air pumping through our lungs.  At 12,300 feet, we reached to top of the shoulder and the rest of the route was in view.  We took a break at a cairn to scope out the rest of the trail.  It didn’t look too bad, so we took a drink of water and off we went.

The next 1,000 feet were the worst.  The trail got steeper.  It was starting to get warm.  A hipster passed us while running the trail.  Our legs and lungs were beginning to feel it.  We weren’t swearing yet, except about the hipster that had run to the top and passed us on the way down while we were still going up, but it was work.  We took a load off every once in a while to hydrate or have a snack, but it was good.

At 13,300 feet, we could feel the top getting closer and the trail started to get rocky.  It was also getting colder so we put our layers back on, including our stocking caps and gloves.  At 13,800 feet, we finally reached the top of the ridge.  All that stood between us and the top, was about 250 feet of boulders.

I got a second wind; and since I was concentrating on bouncing from boulder to boulder, I wasn’t even thinking about how tired I was.  I was just focusing getting to the next rock.  This was the most fun part of the climb.  Then all of a sudden, we reached the summit.

There were about 40 other people on the summit.  We all congratulated each other on reaching the top, made small talk about where we were from, and took each other’s pictures.  Then my buddy and I reached into our packs and grabbed a couple of Coors Lights.  What better way to celebrate tapping the Rockies then by tapping the Rockies.  We were the envy of the crew.

Some clouds began rolling in and rather than stick around and become human lighting rods; thunderstorms are common in the afternoons, we decided it was time to head back down.  I asked where the elevator was and it drew a few laughs.  I’m sure that wasn’t the first time that joke was told.

The descent was fairly easy, but I hit a wall with about two miles left.  My pack started to get a little uncomfortable, my feet and hips were beginning to hurt, and the adrenaline had worn off from reaching the summit.  Now it was just “get back to the car and get some real food” time, but there was one snag.  When you first start the trail, you actually descend about 300 feet before you start climbing.  You’re fresh and excited and it’s a nice warm up through a field of willows with a creek running through it.  On the way back, it’s like, “What the heck!  I gotta hike uphill again?”  Steps become slower, your feet feel like lead, it started getting really warm again, and I just wanted to get back.

Finally, we reached the parking lot.  Our mission was complete in just under 5 hours.  We congratulated each other on a job well done, put on some clean clothes, and went to get some lunch.  It was a great way to spend the morning of my 40th.

What a great birthday!  I had done something I had never done before, my wonderful wife and daughters made me dinner, I heard from many friends and family, and had a lot of laughs with many awesome people I’ve shared time with in my life.  To top it off, the wife surprised me by contacting a bunch of my friends and explaining to them my love for vinyl.  They came through in fine style by generously adding to my record collection.

With all that said, the bottom line is…I’m 40.  Last year, a good friend of mine turned 40 and he had a party called, “Welp, I’m 40.”  How that sounds is exactly how it feels.  I wasn’t exactly looking forward to it, but there’s nothing I can do about it except live my life.  It has been great so far and for that, I am blessed, and thankful.

(I’m listening to “OTW” by Khalid, 6LACK & Ty Dolla $ign)

This year, we spent the 4th of July visiting my wife’s family in Minnesota and Wisconsin.  It’s always fun to go up there because the wife and I were married near where her mother lives. Since August of this year marks 10 years for us, we took a little detour to Siren, WI to check out The Lodge and the spot in which we got married.

It’s amazing. It literally has not changed. The Lodge looked exactly the same; the cabin motif and the outdoorsy charm. The reception hall was exactly how we remembered. Even the arch way we got married under was still out back. It was like going back in time, except with two living reminders that 10 years has passed. We had our 4-year-old (soon to be 4 and three-quarters by her calculation) and our 2-year-old in tow.

It was great to show our kids where mommy and daddy got married. Our 4-year-old understands what happened there. She knows what marriage is, even though she says she wants to marry daddy, but she gets it. It was fun to see her connect the dots between her mom and dad and this place. I don’t know if she knew her mom and I had no idea what was going to happen in the 10 years after we said, “I do,” but, it was fun to explain to her that’s where our family began. On the other hand, our 2-year-old was just tired of being in the car and wanted to run around.

As we were looking around inside The Lodge, our little trip down memory lane took a detour for our 4-year-old. You see, one more thing about this place hadn’t changed and all of a sudden, Littles was connecting some sad dots.

Like I said, The Lodge is in Wisconsin’s “cabin country.” There are a lot of outdoor activities to do there, including hunting and fishing. To match the culture of the area, The Lodge has a lot of taxidermy on its walls. When I say a lot, I mean multiple pieces in every room. It’s like a zoo of still-life’s.  Bears, fish, deer, you name it, it’s in there.  As Littles was looking around, you could see the gears turning. Then, she finally asked, “Mommy? Daddy? Are these animals real?”

Oh man. The wife and I looked at each other with frozen looks of slight terror crossed with faints smiles.  We knew what was coming. She might as well have asked us how she was made. We shrugged our shoulders and the wife said tenderly, “Yes they are, honey.”

More gears were turning. “So this bear is real? So this deer is real? So this fish is real?” she asked. “Yes, honey. They are real,” we replied. “And now they’re dead,” she asked sadly. “Yes honey,” we replied. A look of gloom fell over her face. “But, but, but, this is so sad, I love nature,” she said with her crackling little voice. We tried to explain why people hunt and fish for food and how animals are on earth to help feed us, but it wasn’t enough. This was beyond comprehension for her. She loves animals, and has a room full of “stuffies” to prove it, and couldn’t understand why people would kill them. She stood in the lobby frozen in sadness. She wouldn’t move, she stopped looking around, she started getting tears in her eyes. We told her it was okay to be sad and finally got her to walk towards the door.

As we went to walk out the door, she pointed to some wooden ducks and asked if they were real. We said they were fake. We also explained how animals like chickens and cows make eggs and milk for us and it doesn’t hurt them. This seemed to restore a little of her faith in humanity, but she was still sad as we walked through the parking lot to the car.

She had learned a lot in the last half hour. She learned where mommy and daddy started their family and also learned we get a lot of our food from animals. As we drove away I said to the wife, “Wow, I didn’t see that coming.“ The wife replied, “Yeah, that was a bit rough.” I said, “Our poor little tender-hearted kid. She’ll be fine though.” And after a few minutes, she was.

We stopped by to celebrate 10 years and show the kids where our family began. I guess it’s kind of fitting it turned out like this. I couldn’t have predicted this visit turning out like this just like I couldn’t have predicted our lives turning out like this 10 years ago. I’m not even going to try to predict what the next 10 years will be like, but Lord willing, I know who I’ll be with, and that’s enough for me.

Happy early anniversary, honey. And Littles, you keep being that tender-hearted, sweet kid.  And Tiny, stop eating dirt.  Yucky.

We’re flying to Minnesota to visit the wife’s family. I’m in charge of our 4-year-old. The wife is in charge of our 2-year-old. It’s unfair. I get it. I feel like the house in blackjack right now.

She might look like she’s giving me a hard time, but she’s not. The flight was a breeze.

We get on the plane and take our seats. It takes a little time to get the car seat in her seat. I apologize to the guy waiting to sit down next to us. He says, “No problem. I took two kids on a flight with me back from Korea. No big deal.” I love understanding strangers.

I get our 4-year-old in our seat. She asks when she can have the iPad. I tell her we can have it after we take off. She says, “Okay, daddy.” She’s completely chill. I look over to the wife and the 2-year-old. Things are going well. They’re in their seats eating snacks.

The wife and I are an aisle apart across from each other. In my backpack, I have an iPad, some headphones, and a truck load of snacks the wife packed that will last us till rapture. Did I mention our 2-year-old is potty training? Seriously. I feel a little bad. Just a little.

The wife and I look at each other. We sign I love you to each other. Everything is good.

We hit 10,000 feet. I get out the iPad. We have three movies downloaded on it. I give the 4-year-old a choice. Usually, searching through Netflix is an odyssey. It takes forever for her to pick something, but this time it’s different. She has three choices. She calmly picks Shrek. No complaining at all. My job is done for the flight. This will occupy her the next 2 hours. It’s time to relax. I put my headphones in, “Only You” by 112 is playing.

The flight attendant comes by and asks what I want to drink. I’m on vacation. I say, “I’ll take a vodka soda.” This is great.

Hmmmm. I have my headphones in, but I hear my 2-year-old yelling. We expected her to sleep on the flight because it’s her normal nap time. No dice. I look over. She has kicked a shoe off. She’s fidgety. Now she needs to go potty. I catch the eye of the wife. I can see it looks like this could be a long flight. Meanwhile, my 4-year-old touches my face and says, “I love you daddy.”

The flight attendant brings my vodka and soda. The wife sees it. Did I mention she’s pregnant? Yeah, she shoots me a look. Uh oh. She’s kidding…sort of. I deserve that.

My 2-year-old doesn’t want to sit down. In fact, she keeps yelling, “Poop!” It looks like the wife and her are going to do a lap up and down the cabin. I take a sip of my vodka/soda. My 4-year-old is watching Shrek and eating snacks.

It’s potty time for my 4-year-old. It looks like I’ll have to get up. I take her and she thinks the flush inside the plane is awesome. I did have to wake up the gentleman next to me, but he gave me a look. He knows the drill. I thank him.

One of the times our 2-year-old sat still.

We get back to our seats and to Shrek. I hear our 2-year-old yelling, “Hi!” To everyone. She’s kind of wild, but she has a tablet now so she seems to be doing okay.

We land in Minneapolis. Smooth flight. Smooth everything. I bet I’m sitting next to our 2-year-old on the way home.

(Normally, I’d be listening to music while I write, but I’m listening to Mariners game because they’re only a game back in the standings and it’s a day after Memorial Day…so this is rare and deserves attention.)

Today was the last day of the snowboard season for me.  May 29…not too shabby.  I think A-Basin is open until June 3rd, and I can always hike Saint Mary’s Glacier if I get hard up to ride, but for all intents and purposes, today was the end.

The last day of the season is always bittersweet for me.  I like the change in seasons and the warmer weather, but winter is my favorite.  In fact, the wife thinks I have reverse Season Affective Disorder.  I’m fine for now, but after the 4th of July I’ll get a little depressed and/or grumpy from the lack of riding.  That will last until the first snowflakes fly in late September.  Some people run, some people read, and some people go to the gym for their release; I snowboard.  There’s just something about being on top of a mountain, fresh powder, and a board strapped to my feet that helps clear my mind.  I like summer activities.  I enjoy skateboarding, mountain biking, and hiking, so I’ll stay active and entertained, but they don’t compare to snowboarding.

I have no complaints about this season.  With lots of help from the wife, I did get 33 days in this year.  That’s not bad at all for being a dad of a 4 and 2-year-old.  I even got the 4-year-old on the hill a couple of times this year.  The highlight of the season was a trip I took with some buddies to Winter Park and Steamboat back in March.  Great times, great friends, and great snow.

All good things must come to an end and this snow season ended with a bang…well…a poop!  Our 2-year-old is funny.  Lately, she’s been pulling off her diaper, saying, “Poop!” sitting on her potty chair, and grunting and acting like she’s going to go…but she doesn’t.  Then she’ll get this huge smile on her face and giggle, and we’ll all laugh.  It’s super funny and we all get a kick out of it.

Well today, after I had taken a few runs on the hill and came home, the kids were playing on the back porch while the wife and I were cleaning up after dinner.  We hear Tiny doing her little potty routine, but we think nothing of it.  Then, all of a sudden, Littles runs into the house and yells, “POOP!”  The wife and I immediately think Tiny has just pooped on the back porch and Littles is just warning us of the clean up that’s coming.  The wife and I dart out the door to find a log in Tiny’s potty chair!  TINY POOPED IN THE TOILET!  We were shocked!  We haven’t really been working on this with her yet, but it looks like we’ll have to start!  We all celebrated and cheered like she hit a walk-off home run!  Then the girls got ice cream treats to reward Tiny’s accomplishment.

And that’s the life of being a dad.  One minute you’re snowboarding and a couple of hours later,  you’re celebrating poop.  You just never know.  Congrats Tiny!

(By the way, the Mariners pen melted down and they lost 9-5.  Still a game back.  Gotta love Mariners baseball.)

“Our seats have improved since we’ve been married.”

That’s what the wife said when we took our seats to watch the Denver Nuggets take on my favorite team, the Boston Celtics.  We’ve been to about 5 or 6 Celtics games since we’ve lived in Denver.  For this game, we bought 100 level tickets.  I think we were row 18, seats 19 and 20.

We took our seats and looked around the arena.  The court was right there, the players looked huge, and the upper deck looked so far away.  Looking up, I said to the wife, “Hey, remember sitting way up there when we first got married?”  She replied, “I do.  A lot has changed since then,” and we began to talk about what life was like almost 10 years ago.

Our wedding took place in August of 2008.  The Celtics had won their 17th championship that June, so when the next season rolled around, we went to go see the defending champs when they came to town.  At that time, I had just started my management position at my current job, the wife was in the first year of her new job and moonlighted as a server at Red Lobster.  We were newlyweds, we had spent a lot of our savings on our wedding, we were deep in debt because of our student loans and cars, and we had a medical bill to pay off.  We were broke, but we didn’t know it.  About two weeks after the game, the engine on my car would blow.  We found out just how broke we were.

We reminisced about our nosebleed seats in the 300 level that year.  The game was a Celtics blow out.  The defending champs routed the helpless Nuggets 114-76.  The boys in green were up by 28 points after 3 quarters.  The arena cleared out, the ushers quit checking tickets, and the wife and I snuck down to the 100 level for the final 12 minutes.  We weren’t alone.  The Boston faithful invaded the lower bowl and about 2,000 of us reveled in the already decided outcome for the entire 4th quarter.

That would be the last time we’d buy tickets in the 300 level.  After the motor on my car blew a couple of weeks after the game, we decided to change our life.  We spent the next 20 months getting out of debt.  The wife had heard of this program called “The Total Money Makeover” by Dave Ramsey.  After a week of heavy convincing, the wife talked me into taking the challenge.

It was a huge step.  We’d have to make sacrifices.  We cut all kinds of expenses.  We gave up cable.  We got rid of our internet.  We sold our new cars and bought old ones.  We sold a few other things.  We had to swallow our pride (me more than the wife).  We had to tell our friends we couldn’t make plans because we couldn’t afford it.  We didn’t do much of anything.  We waited 3 years to go on a proper honeymoon.  And, we did it with the wife’s hours being cut back at work.  She took on extra shifts at Red Lobster while finishing her master’s degree.

After 20 months of clawing, scratching, and saving, we made our last student loan payment; our last payment on what we owed.  It was time to celebrate and how did we do it?  We got Celtics tickets right behind their bench…row two.  We could see the sweat drip off the players, hear Doc drawing up a play, and hear KG’s colorful language in the huddle.  The Celtics lost that game, but the wife and I had won.  We were free and life wouldn’t be the same.

Fast forward to 2018.  I’m 10 years into my career.  The wife has started her own business and her days of slinging crab are long gone.  We’ve moved out of our apartment and bought a home.  We have two little girls.  We sold those old cars and have upgraded.  I’m purchasing tickets online for this year’s game.  I ask the wife, “Where do you want to sit?”  She replies, “Just get good seats.”  Click, click, boom. Done. 100 level.  The game was great.  The Celtics won a nail-biter 111-110 and we went home happy.

About a month later we’d go to another game with some friends.  We chose the Nuggets versus the Detroit Pistons because our friends are fans of the team from the motor city.   We won the tickets from a contest at our chiropractor’s office and our seats were almost identical to the ones we had at the Celtics game.  Our friends commented on how great the seats were.  I just smiled and agreed.  They were great and it was an awesome time.

We have a lot for which to be thankful.

(Listening to P.M. Dawn – I’d Die Without You)

We get out of the car and Littles says to the little girl getting out of the car next to us, “You look really beautiful.”  That’s who Littles is.  She has such a kind heart and I couldn’t be more proud of her.  Forget the show we saw that night, forget the fun time we had; Littles telling another little girl she looked beautiful is what I’ll remember from that night.

The reason why Littles said that?  The little girl next to us was decked out in her Ariel dress because we were going to “The Little Mermaid” at the Pace Center in Parker, CO.  Instead of her Ariel dress, Littles opted to wear her mermaid jammies since it was going to be a late night and she wanted to be cozy.  Yeah, she’s like her mom and thinks ahead and plans; however, when we got out of the car and she saw that girl, I could see it on her face, “Oh man, I wished I had worn my dress! She looks so nice.”  Instead of complaining or being jealous, she decided to tell that girl she looked beautiful and I thought, “That’s my sweet girl.”

Littles loves music and she loves her movies, so when the wife told me there was a production of “The Little Mermaid” going on in nearby Parker, my response was, “Get the tickets.  She’s going to lose her mind!”  Plus, it was just going to be the three of us; little sister would have to stay home because she would have found a way to run up on the stage because, well, that’s what little sister does right now.  And, Littles enjoys the private “mommy/daddy time.”

We got to the theater, grabbed some snacks, and took our seats.  Watching Littles watch a musical is almost more entertaining than watching the musical.  Her mind in basically in a state of continuous blown for three straight hours.  Not a moo, not a clack, not a peep.  She sits there, completely still, her eyes the size of silver dollars.  It’s like watching someone watch someone else defuse a bomb.  It’s incredible to watch her process what’s going on.  If I could read her mind it might go something like this, “Okay, they look real.  They are real people.  If they’re real people, then that’s a real Ariel.  So is Ariel real?  She’s real!!!  But wait, she’s not real when I watch her on TV, so is she real, or is this real Ariel real? Aggherherhshdfshdf!  I don’t care, this is great!”  I think she realizes that Ariel isn’t really real, but the production is so huge and so visually stimulating that for 3 hours, reality goes out the window.  Amazing.

The show was excellent.  The acting was great, the singing was great, and Littles loved it; then the real fun began.  She actually got to meet the cast!  They were all there, Ariel, Prince Eric, King Triton, Flounder, everyone…and she couldn’t wait to meet them.  She was all smiles from ear to ear, and the cast was very gracious, taking pictures with all of those who wanted to.

It was time to leave, so we jumped in the Pilot and headed home.  Littles told us how much she liked the show and was telling us how much fun it was to meet everyone, and then the back seat suddenly got very quiet.  It was way past bedtime and the high was over.  Reality set back in and Littles crashed.

It’s nights like this when it’s fun to know Littles is at the age where she’ll start remembering things.  When I think about the wife and I taking Littles to this show, it reminds me when I was about her age and my sister was in a production of “Annie.”  I remember going to watch rehearsals and going to the show.  It’s one of my earlier childhood memories and looking back, it probably had a huge influence on the direction of my life.  I was very involved in music and drama in school and I wonder if Littles will have similar interests because of her early memories.  She already loves to sing and dance, and is very interested in music.  I hope so, because I think she’d be great at it; but if not, I already know I’m proud of her.  When you told that girl she looked beautiful, you were beautiful, because you were so kind.  And that’s what I’ll remember from this night,   along with the fun we had.

Love you, Littles.

(Listening to “O” by Coldplay)

As I was driving home I caught myself thinking, “How the heck am I going to handle dropping her off at college?”

Tonight was my 4-year-old daughter’s first sleepover.  It was her friend’s 4th birthday and she wanted Littles to stay over.  It’s the perfect situation to try it out.  We are good friends with the family, Littles and their daughter play so well together, and we totally trust them with our daughter.  I have no worries about the situation at all.  We both have two girls.  Our hope is to work up to the point when all the girls can stay at one house and the other couple can have a little getaway.  Tonight is the first step toward that hope. As it turned out, my daughter was more ready for it than I was!

Littles has been pumped about the party and sleepover for the past week.  She has talked about it non-stop, counted how many sleeps until she stayed over, and even practiced her tumbling for the gymnastics party.  Just the mention of this party would result in Littles squealing with excitement.  The wife and I were excited too, but with some recent events happening in life, I hadn’t put much thought into it other than, “Littles is going to love spending the night at her friend’s house.”

The original plan was for me to meet the wife and the girls at the party after I finished work, but there was one little wrinkle.  A while back, the wife agreed to be a backup doula for a friend of hers.  The mother-to-be wasn’t due for a while, so we didn’t think there would be any conflict, but the wife got the call early this morning and had to go to the hospital to help the expected mother.  All of the sudden, I was going to have to navigate this situation by myself!  I went from, “Littles is going to love spending the night at her friend’s house” to “Holy cow! Littles is spending her first night away from our house!”  All of the sudden the things I didn’t think about before came rushing into my mind at warp speed!  Would she be scared sleeping in an unfamiliar place?  Would she miss all the stuffed animals she sleeps with?  Will she be able to find the potty in the middle of the night?  What if she has a scary dream?  This is a huge deal!  And I have to do this by myself without the moral support from the wife?!?!  Ahhhhhhh!  It’s safe to say the reality of the situation had hit home.

I knocked off from work early, raced to pick up my girls from the sitter, and went to the gymnastics party.  It was a great time.  The girls bounced around on trampolines, swung on parallel bars, ran around, and ate pizza and cake while I talked with friends and other parents.  I had almost forgot about the sleep over, then the party ended, and we were suddenly on our way to Little’s friend’s house.

When I pulled up, I explained to Littles one last time what was going to happen.  I explained that she was going to sleep here and wouldn’t be coming home with daddy tonight.  She said she understood and then I asked her if she had any concerns.  She gasped, like someone having a revelation, and in a concerned voice she said, “Who is going to sing “Nothingman” to me at bedtime?”  My heart melted and it was then I realized I was more concerned than she was.  Every night, except for when I’m working on Friday’s, I sing Pearl Jam’s “Nothingman” to her as a lullaby.  It’s a special moment for us that she doesn’t even let momma in on.  It’s ours, and that lullaby was her main concern.  She wasn’t concerned about being scared or any of that logistical stuff I was thinking about, and that let me know I shouldn’t be either.  At her request I sang “Nothingman” to her in the car and we went inside.

As I was visiting with our friends it was getting late.  Littles walked up to me and said, “Daddy,  I think it’s time for you to go.  It’s almost bedtime.”  I smiled and said okay.  I helped her into her PJ’s, she brushed her teeth, we said our I love you’s and goodbyes, and gave hugs.  I gave her an extra squeeze.  Before she let go she whispered, “I’ll be okay.”  Then she looked at me and winked.  I melted again!  As I was driving home I thought, “If I have a hard time dropping her off at a sleepover, how the heck am I going to handle dropping her off at college?”  It will probably play out the same way, her telling me she’ll be okay and winking.  I’m sure I’ll also hear that thousands of times between now and then.  That’s totally her and I love it.

Little sister and I walked into the house and I saw my daughter’s empty room.  I walked in and it smelled like her.  Even though she isn’t there, I turned on her sound machine and closed the door.  It makes me feel like she is.  Like I said, I think she was more ready than I was.

 

(The “Moana” soundtrack is stuck in my head…MAKE WAY, MAKE WAY!)

“Holy cow, this place is huge!”  I said to the wife as we pulled up to the entrance.  I felt a little like Clark Griswold pulling up to Wally World.  A 50 minute drive had taken almost two hours thanks to a snowstorm and a potty break, but we had finally made it to the Great Wolf Lodge in Colorado Springs, CO.

The wife had booked a night’s stay at the 50,000 square foot indoor water park as part of our “buy more experiences and less things” mantra of 2018.  Our oldest loves the water, so we thought this would be perfect.  The weather was perfect too.  There was a snowstorm happening outside and it was a balmy 84 degrees inside.

They do the wolf theme very well at the Great Wolf Lodge.  The minute we stepped into the lobby, the staff put wolf ears on the kids.  They immediately formed their own little two person wolf pack and began howling at each other, the first of what seemed like hundreds of times in a 24 hour period.  We checked in and went up to our room on the 7th floor.  The kids had their own wolf den to sleep in, complete with bunk beds and a TV.  It was the first time our kids were going to sleep in the same room, so in the back of our minds we were wondering how that would go.

After getting settled in there wasn’t anything left to do but put on our swimsuits and dive into the fun.  I don’t know if wolves like the water, but ours did.  This water park had everything.  It had a kiddie pool with slides, a wave pool, a huge climbing structure with intermediate water slides attached, and some big water slides for older kids and adults.

The highlight of the big slides is called “Wolf Tail.”  You step into this vertical launch pod that’s shaped like a tube and the lifeguard closes the door.  As you’re standing on a trap door, the sound of a heart pumping faster and faster is played.  The lifeguard gives you a thumbs up through the clear tube and a countdown from three begins.  Finally, the floor drops out, hurling you into a nearly vertical 20-foot free fall followed immediately by a 360-degree, high-speed loop.  You barely have time to think as you speed down the slide.  I had to try it out.

The wife enjoyed the Howlin’ Tornado.  It’s a super-fast thrill ride in a raft built for four.  You speed through twists and turns before dropping into a six-story funnel of fun and then splashing down at the end.  The kids were too little to hit the big slides, but they had fun on the smaller ones.

The highlight for our family was the wave pool.  Every 5 minutes or so, an alarm sounds signaling the starting of the waves.  All the kids in the pool cheer as the water starts to churn.  Our kids loved it.  Our 4-year-old loved to dive into the waves and our almost 2-year-old loved to float as the waves moved her up and down, up and down.  The wife and I took turns hanging out with the kids while the other went on some of the big slides.

Like I said earlier, this place is huge.  The water park is the main attraction, but there are tons of other things to do.  There are restaurants, a mini golf course, a ropes course, a climbing wall, and adventure park, a bowling alley, and our kid’s other favorite attraction, a video arcade.

If you would have given me a list of things to do at Great Wolf Lodge, the last thing I would have picked on list that my kids would enjoy was a video arcade, but they were mesmerized by it.  We’re not talking about video arcades I grew up with that included Pac-Man and pinball.  This arcade was like a laser show on steroids.  Flashing lights, loud sounds, games you sat in; this arcade had it all.  Our girls didn’t even play the games.  They were happy just walking around climbing on everything, and sitting in every game they could.  Their senses were on overload.  I think we spent an hour in there before we had to carry them out.

Finally, we were able to grab something to eat before heading up to our room to get ready for bed.  They were wrecked.  Between the drive, the pool, the arcade, and dinner, they were totaled.  We gave them a bath and they were down for the count.

The funny part about being parents is when we plan a day that we know will tire out our kids, we forget how tired we’ll be.  After we got the kids down, it was about 8pm.  Our intention was to spend some time together and watch a movie or something fun like that.  I remember looking at the clock.  It read 8pm.  I looked at the wife and said, “Okay, it’s only 8?  I feel like it’s 11!”  She said, “I know!  I’m ready for bed!”  We didn’t give in that easily though.  I managed to go downstairs and get some ice cream, Triple Caramel Chunk, and we had some while we watched part of a movie before finally turning in.

The next morning, our little cherubs were ready to go!  We put our swimsuits back on, got a breakfast buffet, and went back to the pool for some more fun!  We left right before  afternoon nap.  The snowstorm had passed, the roads were good, and it was a quiet ride home as the kids were tuckered out again.  It was a great little weekend getaway with the family.  The kids loved it and the wife and I had fun too.  We’ll definitely be back.

 

 

 

I love dates with my daughter.  I had a rare Saturday off, the wife had plans, and since she was taking our youngest with her, it was time for a date with our oldest.

We do this from time to time.  Usually we go for Chinese food, but lately she’s been into movies, so when I told her we were going on a date, I knew exactly what she would want to do.  “Let’s go to a movie!”  Once she’s made up her mind, there’s no changing it, so that’s what we did.

We started by going out to breakfast at one of our favorite restaurants, The Bagel Deli.   It’s a great little Jewish deli with very tasty…well…everything.  A while back it was featured on “Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives.”  Everything on the menu is great.  She ordered a bagel, eggs, and milk, and I ordered Eggs Bagel-Dict.  Here’s the description from the menu: “A toasted fresh bagel or English muffin and a blanket of pastrami, topped with two poached eggs, and covered with Hollandaise Sauce.”  Yum.

As we sat and ate our breakfast, it really struck me how our baby is growing up so fast.  She’s only 4, but she can hold a conversation about almost anything.  We talk like pals.  She’s asks me about work and I ask her about school.  She tells me about her friends and she asks tons of questions.  We play tic-tac-toe in crayon on the kids menu.  She asks me if she looks beautiful and I tell her, “Yes, because you’re so smart and kind.”  She disappears under the table and giggles.  I ask her to take a few more bites of her breakfast.  She’s a little person and she’s awesome.

I pay the bill, she thanks the server, and we walk out to our car.  She points out a yellow punch-buggy in the parking lot.  As we get to our car she says, “Our car is really dirty, daddy.  We should get a car wash!”  She loves going to the car wash.  She thinks it’s funny when the soap covers the car and we can’t see.  We pretend we’re in a submarine.

From the car wash we head to the Century Aurora 16 (yes, that theater).  I’ll admit, I thought about it.  I have been working across the street from it for the last 2 1/2 years.  I see it every day.  For the first month or so, I thought about it from time to time, but July 20, 2012 hadn’t crossed my mind in years.  Now, it’s just where I work.  It’s a normal place.  The wife and I had been to that theater before, but we haven’t been back; not because of the event, but because we moved and have a theater closer to us.  Walking in, I thought about it for a few seconds.  I can’t explain why.  My guess is that it’s like going anywhere something awful has happened.  I know it happened, I acknowledged it, and realized it’s a normal place where something horrific happened, and yet it’s normal again.  Whatever that means.  Littles has no idea, she just knows she’s going to see a movie.  God bless kids.

Anyway, my daughter and I saw “Ferdinand” at 11:00am.  It was great.  We got popcorn. Her eyes are the size of dinner plates while staring at the huge screen.  She’s robotically reaching into the popcorn bag every 20 seconds.  I don’t even think she knows she’s doing it.  I even caught her a few times with her hand in front of her mouth, popcorn squeezed between her index finger, middle finger, and thumb, and she’s just frozen.  She’s so taken by the movie she forgets she’s eating popcorn.  I chuckle at the sight.  She breaks from her trance to tell me about the characters and how “that one is mean” and “that one is so nice.”  She makes sure I know what’s happening in the movie, saying stuff like, “Oh, that’s the same place he was at when he was little” and “Oh, that’s not good.”  She cuddles against me half way through.  She tells me the seats are cozy.

The movie ends and she makes us stay past the credits.  She loves the music.  The lights come on and she snaps out of it like a 21-year-old does when the lights come on at 2am at the club.  We go outside and get in the car.  I ask her what she thought of the movie and she enthusiastically says/yells, “It was great!”  She asks if we can stop by my work (she loves going there).  We walk in and she tells my co-workers all about Ferdinand.  We go home and meet up with mom and little sister.  She tells them all about it Ferdinand.  What a great time!

I love dates with my daughter and I can’t wait until the next one.