I never planned on having children. Up until our third year of marriage Susie wasn’t crazy about the idea either. We even bought a white sofa thinking there wouldn’t be any kids around to mess it up. But when we found out that Susie had a condition that might prevent us from being able to have children, we both felt that we were being robbed of a decision that should have been ours. We didn’t like that. We started talking about the possibility of getting pregnant… Not raising kids mind you. Just getting pregnant. Maybe we should give it a shot? Two months later Susie was in New Orleans doing Hurricane Katrina Relief Work and she started feeling funny. When she came home we took a pregnancy test and saw a “+” sign in the indicator window. I got one past the goalie!

So we were having a baby. We had no idea what that meant. The only thing we knew was at some point we needed to paint the spare room a baby friendly colour. We went about life as usual… just added a prenatal vitamin to our daily routine. We both felt unprepared and inadequate so we decided to sign up for labour and delivery classes a couple of months before the due date. The night we were to go to our first class, Susie went into premature labour. We were shocked. Susie had to be taken by ambulance to a special hospital as this was a “high-risk delivery”. We learned that our baby may not survive through labour, or may survive with brain damage… I had to drive home to pick up Susie’s things. I’ll never forget that drive… the road blurred by my tears… praying for Susie and our child… struck with the strange realization, “all these drivers around me have no idea what has just happened…”

Joshua David McLean was born on September 11th, 2006, weighing 3lbs, 7oz. He had 10 fingers and 10 toes and could breathe on his own. We were relieved. He spent the next 5 weeks in hospital at the Neo-Natal Intensive Care Unit with an amazing group of Nurses and Doctors. We brought Joshua home in October and he was as healthy as can be. Our life at home, of course, was forever changed. Midnight feedings, dirty diapers, long snuggles, breastfeeding blunders, trips to the emergency room “just to be safe”… We were the classic first time parents.

When we got pregnant again 9 months later, we found out the reason for Joshua’s early arrival: Susie had an “incompetent cervix.” That’s not a nice thing to say to a cervix, is it? Susie was put on bedrest for 11 weeks to prevent any chance of a premature labour. She was a champion on bedrest- so incredibly patient and peaceful. She didn’t complain at all… and she found some interesting ways to keep herself entertained… one day I came home to find her lying on the kitchen floor baking cookies. Susie is one of a kind. Ariella was born on March 28th, 2008. At 7lbs, 6oz she looked like a giant compared to little Joshua. Josh started calling her “Ella” and the name stuck. Ariella’s middle name is ‘Simone’ after my sister who passed away from Leukemia when she was 11-years old. Ella Simone… Sounds like some great Jazz singer or something doesn’t it?

I can honestly say that having 2 kids is like managing a small zoo. And living at the zoo with the animals. It’s crazy. I have heard rumours of people out there that have 3 kids- some even 4- but I don’t think it’s true. I think your head would explode upon bringing the 3rd child home from hospital.

Remember when you were a kid, and someone read you a story? Countless stories? Didn’t you love how they all ended in the most satisfying way, with the same two bracing words?

Here it is the close of a long November and NaNoWriMo ’09, and my two daughters have won. They met their word count goals and brought their stories around to the place where they could write: The End. In Eliza’s story, ogres are defeated, the antidote is found, and the villain becomes the hero. As for Molly, the character she named and brought to life — Lilac –finally finds the answers. In the end, the girl knows who she is.

My daughters do, too. They’re writers.

Harry: “Why the hell did you take you shoes off?”

Marv: “Why the hell are you dressed like chicken?”

Did you catch the Home Alone marathon on FX? We did.

We’re at Grandma’s and Grandpa’s house for Thanksgiving. The five of us, Mom’s grandparents, Mom’s cousin and her friend plus both of mom’s sisters, their 5 kids and my brother-in-law are all here. Nineteen for Thanksgiving dinner. Relatively small for a holiday gathering at Grandma’s house.

As Mom’s cousin and her friend are leaving, Grandma forces some Thanksgiving leftovers upon them. Holiday tradition right? Except they are carrying bags of hamballs. Personally I’m not a big fan of the hamballs. Don’t really like to eat things that end in “balls.” But that didn’t stop me from pointing out what they were carrying out.

“Hey got some balls there? Don’t forget to take a sack of balls with you when you leave. Nobody leaves Grandma’s house without free balls.”

Grandma didn’t find it nearly as funny as I did.

Yesterday I was left at the house with Bails, Kinz and two of my 4 nieces – ages 4 and 7. Left them in front of the TV watching Parent Trap for awhile. The 1961 original not the ’98 remake with Lindsay Lohan. Don’t want them picking any bad habits. That went well until they decided to have a shooting war with stuffed animals. They armed themselves with shields and then started hurling the stuffed animals at each other.

We transitioned to a few games of hide and seek. While they consider hiding fun, it is not something at which they excel. The object of hiding, as I understand it, is to not be found. The girls, it became apparent, believe the object of hiding is to not only be found but to give hints as to where they are hiding. Mostly bird sounds. Some giggles. Then they wanted prizes for being the last one found. Among the suggestions: M&M’s, donuts and pop.

Sensing a surge of energy, I suggested the girls go outside for awhile. Lucky for me there are only two swings and they got to fight over them. Also lucky for me Spike has Band of Brothers on all day.

Eventually everybody came home and we all went out to dinner to the AutoZone. Seriously. There’s a restaurant in town that is in an old AutoZone building. For some reason chicken strips and mac and cheese acted similarly to sugar packets in the energy generation department. We got home and it was like the Barbara Mandrell Show broke out. We were entertained by a series of short skits and songs followed by giggles. You know you’ve been a parent for a while when you can watch Pitt-West Virginia, Goldeneye and four little girls make up musical comedy sketches and not even break a sweat…

I grew up a bit of a tomboy. I’ve always lacked some very typical “girly” genes. Much to my daughter’s chagrin I’m not much into jewelry and lots of make-up. I don’t like to talk long on the phone. I’m soooo like a guy when it comes to talking (or not talking, as the case may be) about my feelings or arguing or even just communicating in a relationship. (I know, nothing to be proud of. I’m working on it.) I played softball but wanted to play baseball as a kid. I love camping out under the stars. I wore garter snakes around my wrists much to the delight of the boys in the neighborhood. And I’ve never liked to shop. Ever.

Still don’t. So when my 17 yr. old daughter asked if we could shop on Black Friday I laughed. Out loud. When she told me she was serious, I eyed her suspiciously.

“Only if we go at 5am,” I said, confident that she would back down immediately. You see, I’m a morning person. She’s a night person. A very late night person. She sleeps ’till noon every chance she gets. I knew I was safe.

“Ok!” she said enthusiastically.

Huh? What the…? How did that happen? I then tried to weasel out of it.

“Seriously? You’ll get up at 4:30? I don’t think so. Besides, I don’t think the stores you’ll want to shop even open up that early.”

Remember? I don’t like to shop. So in my forty-something years I’ve never shopped on Black Friday. I’ve avoided it like the plague. I thought only large discount stores and appliance stores were open at that un-godly hour the day after Thanksgiving. 

“No, I already checked,” she said, “The mall opens at 5am.”

Rats. I was stymied. I had no idea where to go from there to get out of it.

“Ok…….” I said, voice trailing. I still had 5 more days to figure out how to get out of it. Surely, something would come to me.

But Thanksgiving Day arrived and I still didn’t have a way out. And she was so excited. Sharing this story with my sister on the phone she chastised my lack of enthusiasm.

“You set that alarm for 4:30am and enjoy yourselves. You’re creating memories,” she said, “Just don’t forget your helmet and elbow pads.”

Yikes. That got me. Especially since my stomach sinks every time my daughter receives a letter from a college trying to recruit her. I’m trying to cherish every moment she wants to spend with me. What was my problem?

So on Friday morning, we woke up before the crack of dawn and set out. We drove past our local Wal-Mart at 5:15am. Every, and I mean EVERY parking spot was taken. People were parking on the grass, off the curb. I’ve never seen it so busy. What was I getting myself into?

We arrived at the mall by 5:30am. It was busy but not unbearable. We shopped. We laughed. We waited in lines. I had to go check out the deals at the Disney Store (of course) and she reluctantly tagged along. The line was about 10 people deep and she rolled her eyes. “This is just like waiting in line for the rides, ” she groaned. But when we went to Hollister (her favorite store) the line for the cash register winded, weaved and wove through the store. “This must be SOME roller coaster!” I said excitedly. She pretended not to know me.

We chatted on the way to other stores. We chatted over coffee. We chatted in lines. We chatted in the car on the way to lunch. We observed people and talked about that. She shared with me things that were going on with school and with her friends. We reminisced. Mostly light things but some heavy things came up, too. And when the heavy things surfaced it slipped into our conversation easy, calm. I was able to share things I’ve always wanted to say – things every parent should say. She shared with me her feelings with little awkwardness. (She is a teenager, after all.)

It was an amazing day.

I remember hearing Dr. Phil impart his wisdom on teenagers once. He said (and I’m paraphrasing here) that if you want your kids to talk to you about the big things then you’d better listen to the little things. In theory, I wholeheartedly agreed. But then, I was able to see it in motion.

I’ve always felt I was a pretty involved parent. But days like this remind me I can always do more. Listening to those little things – how many sisters we could tell were shopping together, who her friends were dating, the latest fashion must-haves, how awful school lunches were – turned into conversations and snippets of some really big things. (And since I’d like to preserve some of her privacy I’m just going to let you guess what those were.) I heard her thoughts. She heard mine. It was amazing conversation with a little shopping thrown in. We enjoyed ourselves so much we’ve decided to make it a yearly tradition.

I saved a good bit of money on Black Friday. I lost a little sleep. Looking back, it was a simple gesture that became grand. And I can’t believe I tried to get out of it. What a shame that would have been.

The day after my first Thanksgiving, my dad had off, which was truly amazing for a cop.  My mom had to work, which was much of the case for my first year.  They were able to fix their schedules so that someone would be home with me, and I didn’t need a sitter until after my first birthday.

Like any good husband, my dad decided to take advantage of the sales and start the Christmas shopping for my mom.  Besides this got him and his baby daughter out of the house.  Plus, plus, right?

Except Black Friday was always a mad house, always is a mad house, and always will be a mad house, for ever and ever.  Amen.

As my dad tried to push his way through the crowds at the mall with a baby stroller, my nearly-five-month-old self waved my fist in front of me trying to clear a path.  Because even then I didn’t like crowds.

Tonight at dinner, my dad will retell the story for everyone, imitating a baby waving her fist in front of her as everyone laughs at the antics.  Which is fine.  Because my dad, mom, grandma did not even think to invite me to their crazy, chaotic shopping trip at 4. In the morning.  And I thank them.  Because if there is one thing I hate more than crowds, it’s mornings.

Since my dad has been here for my thanksgiving break and I have been showing him around, I have had the opportunity to make a few observations about father/daughter relationships which I will bring to light.

It’s amazing, that no matter how much older we all get, we still resort to the same old routine and mannerisms that we had with our parents when we were say, 10 years old.

1.  Somehow you still hold on to the belief that your pouty, trembling lower lip will have the same devastating effect on him that it had all of those 11 years ago.  Now it still works, although only sometimes so I have to use it sparingly.  (Oh the joys of being the only female offspring!)

2.  He still gets an inordinate amount of pleasure from embarrassing you in public.  Why else would he throw up his arms as you cross through Checkpoint Charlie from East to West Berlin and shout, with his arms up, “FREE AT LAST!”  The feeling I had at that moment was only slightly less mortified than when he showed up to my sixth grade dance, unmissable with his over 6 foot frame, and proceeded to wade through the little 11 year olds and call my name in order to get me to leave said dance.  It was awhile before I was able to sum up the courage to claim him as my relation.

3.  It’s obviously his fault that you desperately have to go the bathroom for the 123rd time that day while you are trekking through the wilderness of Potsdam (home of the Potsdam Conference of 1945) looking for some castle.  (Hey!  Drinking water is healthy!)  No doubt the freezing cold and occasional downpour was as well.  Subsequently you proceed to list the umpteenth bodypart that is in pain, mind you after at least 2 hrs of hiking, he asks whether or not you still have any that are still in tact you reply with, “Well, my mouth.”  (Thank god so as to notify him of any ailments that should still arise.)

BUT, not to worry, all ill-will is forgotten once we’re both toasty warm and digging into a good italian dinner back on Oranienburgerstrasse.

MTV: Taking a break on Monday from a shoot for the second season of her BET reality show, “Tiny & Toya,” T.I.’s fiancée, Tameka “Tiny” Cottle, talked up her latest project, a girl group called OMG Girlz.

Tiny, who knows a bit about being in a girl group thanks to her 1990s run in Xscape (not to mention her hand in penning TLC’s mega-hit “No Scrubs”), said she’s helping to shepherd the debut by the group, which features her daughter, Zonnique (a.k.a. Star) as well as the offspring of Lil Wayne and his ex-wife, Antonia “Toya” Carter, Reginae (a.k.a. Baby Carter).

The preteen/teen quartet (ages 11 to 13) also includes members Basha (a.k.a. Beauty) and Lourdes (a.k.a. Lolo). They got their start last year when Tiny and her production partner, Kiesha Babi, began talking to Zonnique about her singing ability and encouraging her to form a group. (You can check out the OMZ Girlz’s music here.)

Zonnique was actually already a veteran of one short-lived two-girl act, QT Posse, and Tiny suggested she hook up with Reginae to see if they could get something going. When Baby Carter proved her inherited rhyming skills to Tiny, the music industry vet knew she was on to something. “She started rapping for me and I thought this would be great,” Tiny said.

As a mother and a survivor of the girl-group mill, Tiny’s making sure her daughter’s crew doesn’t fall into the usual music industry traps that are typical for young acts. “I’m definitely using my experience and telling them the things I’ve been through,” she said. “I don’t want them to go through things I went through, so I tell them stories so we can avoid going in that direction.”

OMG has played a few shows here and there, appearing at the SoulCircus in Charlotte, North Carolina, recently and at a charity event in Chicago, where they performed their first single, “Ain’t Nobody,” snippets of some of the other songs Tiny has helped write for them, and a few covers that they dance over.

“We’re getting calls all the time and we have shows booked through March,” said Tiny. So far, she’s co-written seven or eight songs for the group’s debut along with Babi, and the women have been encouraging the girls to get their feet wet with songwriting, since, as Tiny knows, that’s where the real money is. “Kiesha and I wrote ‘Ain’t Nobody,’ but Reginae wrote on that one too,” she said. “We’re trying to coach them to write, and they’ve come up with good stuff.”

The Timbaland-style “Ain’t Nobody,” which sounds like TLC-meets-Rihanna, is a teen love lament, with the girls complaining about boys they’re no longer interested in who won’t take a hint: “Ain’t nobody thinking bout you/ I ain’t never had a boy that be sweatin’ me bad as you do/ But I’m just not that into you/ I know it’s hard but you should try forgetting me,” they sing over a futuristic keyboard squiggle.

Baby Carter breaks in midway with a few bars in which she does Daddy proud, rapping, “My name is Reginae/ But you can call me Baby Carter/ They love me and they hate me cuz I’m Weezy F’s daughter/ Yeah, I’m a brat and I think it’s my world/ And I’m stuntin’ like my daddy, cuz I’m daddy’s little girl/ When I walk up in the spot, upgrades the room/ And if you standin’ next to me, I will upgrade you too.”

Despite some conspicuous-consumption lyrics (Baby says she wants a laptop and a Benz for her birthday), Tiny said the idea with OMG was to keep it clean and wholesome and provide some fun party music for younger fans. “It’s definitely music that’s OK for kids,” she said. The focus now is on finishing the album and getting a record deal, as “Ain’t Nobody” hits radio before the end of the year.

As for the girls’ famous fathers, Tiny said Weezy has already promised he’s working on a song for them that he’s going to finish before he goes to prison next year. “Tip, you know it! He already told Star he’s going to do a song with them,” Tiny said. “They’re excited.”

“Jerkin’ ” stars the New Boyz also want to get in on the OMG album, and one of Wayne’s protégé’s, Lil Chuckee, has already jumped on the remix of “Ain’t Nobody.”

I thought that I should take time, once again this Thanksgiving, to think about what I am truly thankful for. I know that most of my life I’ve neglected to think about this, let alone write it down. Last year was the first time that I ever really took time to do it. So, here I am to do it again. Much of this is probably the same as last year, but who cares. Who knows, maybe this will become an annual thing.

Thankful for…

1. My God and Saviour, Jesus Christ, and the salvation that I have by His gift of grace that He made possible by His blood that was shed on the cross. For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God. (Eph. 2:8).
2. For my wonderful wife of 22 years and the fantastic mother that she is. She makes life a joy each and every day. She is a great gift from God also. May I cherish her more deeply and be the husband that God intends for me to be.
3. The blessing of 4 great kids who are all special, each and every one of them. God has blessed me so greatly here. I pray that I can be the dad that they need and that God designed me to be.
4. Family in general. Thankful that they are always there and always in your corner.
5. Friends. God has put some great friends in my life. I pray that I can be the friend to them that they have been to me.
6. A great church and church family. God has placed us in a church that is commited to teaching the Gospel of Christ and reaching the lost for Christ. Also, a church family that lives out their Christianity by taking time to serve others in many different ways. It is a church family that is committed to bringing glory to God.
7. The privilege of living in America and the freedoms that we have. I pray that God continues to bless this country. I pray for our leaders, that they will be men and women who will seek God and His guidance each and every day. And, as part of this great country I’m thankful for those awesome men and women in our military, that serve and protect our freedom day in and day out.
8. A good job that God has blessed me with. I thank God for the privilege it is to work and the skills that He’s given me. I pray that I do it as if unto Him.
9. God’s provision each day; shelter, food, water, clothing and the additional blessings that He has given.
10. God’s continuous teaching and working in my life. I find it amazing that God finds it worthwhile to keep trying to teach, correct and instruct me each and every day. I thank Him for what he’s teaching me about His sovereignty, that He’s in control, that He has a plan and that I need to trust Him completely. I pray that I learn to follow Him completely and surrender all.

Since it’s Thanksgiving, just take a little time and give it some thought. Don’t let it slide by another day, another minute. What are you thankful for?

Happy Thanksgiving!

Halleluya! I’ve just finished throwing the last of the special orders for Christmas. Of course they still need lids, handles and decoration – carving and whatever – but the main work is done. We seem to be more on toop of things this year and the stress level is quite bearable.

Our ad is now on ATV and we are seeing people coming in as a result. Seems the weather has everyone duped into thinking that there’s months to go before Christmas! A month from today is Boxing Day – my personal favorite day of the year. No more stress, we’ll have 2 weeks off and there’s plenty of left overs in the fridge! This year two of our daughters will be here to celebrate – so it could only be better if all 4 were with us. I’m not complaining though – we’re very blessed.

The President pardons the turkey…and so do I….

Happy Thanksgivings Day to all of my followers and supporterss…I could not do this without you….lol.

We’re probably going to attend more Cyclone basketball games. The girls had fun and more importantly, they were really pretty damn good.

Aside from Bails trying to get out the door wearing these.

Orange shoes? C’mon Dad, what’s the big deal?

This. This is the big deal.

And if you discount the fact getting her to sit relatively still was about as successful as trying to contain a greased octopus. But all of that happened with about 5 mintues left.

Anyway, I don’t think any of the girls had more fun than Kinsey. Maybe Bailey and Riley when Kinz and I brought them cardinal and gold snow cones. No ice cream because the line looked like a bunch of Canadians waiting for health care.

We’re about midway through the first half and Kinz leans over to Mom, “Mom we’re doing awesome! They are really trying hard!”

First, this is awesome because she referred the Cyclones as “we” and second she was paying attention. On her own. And she was enjoying the game. Not watching the cheerleaders, not watching the mascot, but the game. I guess I was right when I said the NCAA tournament is good for babies…

Then a few minutes into the second half I ask her, “Hey Kinz, how do you think we’re doing?”

She replies, “Dad, it’s 50-28, I think we’re doing pretty good.”

Plus we were six rows off the floor behind one of the baskets. Great seats. Mom and the girls even got on the big video board a few times. More basketball games for us.

Pumping gas at 2702 East Washington Ave.

Lady approaches me.

“Looking for a girl?”

Me, as I was not expecting that, “what?”

Her:  “Are you looking for a girl?”

Me thinking no, silly lady, I am pumping gas, trying to get to work to feed my family although now slowly realizing she is a ‘working girl’.

A firm “no” and shocked look on my face sends her on her way.

You grieve for this ladies soul.  What could you do to help?  How did she need help?  Dad’s have a awesome burden and blessing on a young girls future.  Read HERE Dad.

Pray for the lost today.  And for our blessings.  And Dad’s, lean into your daughter’s life …be a strong Dad.

Kinsey had a tough morning today. Which is too bad because nobody was more excited about this week as her. Maybe me. But its close. Its Thanksgiving Week. You get two Fridays and a holiday that revolves around football. That’s not a bad week. Plus it’s officially Christmas season starting Friday.

The girls only have school Monday and Tuesday. To take advantage of that, we’re taking them all to their first Cyclone basketball game this evening. If they’re good, they can have a Cyclone swirl cone. Which is cardinal and gold colored soft serve ice cream. I’m bringing lots of wipes.

Yesterday Kinsey pops out of bed and comes into the bathroom while I’m brushing my teeth. And Kinsey popping out of bed on a school day happens about as often as I wake up saying, “Woo hoo! Sex and City marathon on TV today!”

Anyway, I’m brushing away and Kinz says, “Dad this is going to be the best week ever. We only have to go to school for two days, we going to our first Cyclone basketball game and get ice cream and we get to go to Grandpa and Grandma’s house.” Except she said it without taking a breath or any of the normal pauses you would anticipate.

Anyway, ever since Kinz was about three she’s had this aversion to wearing shirts that have “things” on them. It’s weird. For example, if a shirt has any lettering or design that is located within an area that Kinsey believes is the center of the shirt, she won’t wear it. But if the entire shirt has a pattern like stripes or polka dots or a design that isn’t located in the center but off to the side or located on both the left and right lapel areas, she’ll wear it. She’s corporate America’s worst nightmare.

Solid color shirt? No problem. Nike logo in the middle of the shirt? No can do amigo. It’s taken time but we’re pretty clear on what she’ll wear and what she won’t. The amount of resistance likely to occur and the amount of time before I need to be at work are key determinants in picking out her clothes for the day.

Today, however, Mom decided to prove a point. Proving a point for no other reason other than we’re the parents and they are the kids is a perfectly acceptable thing for parents to do. It’s a proven technique. Parents, coaches and dictators have been doing for years. Why did Ditka put in the Fridge in Super Bowl 20 to score a touchdown when it was already 37-3? Because he was proving a point. Why did the Germans take the Sudetenland in 1938? Because they could.

Mom and I have employed this technique separately and jointly over the years. I, however, have chosen not to employ this strategy in the morning. Its not a battle I’m willing to fight before 7 a.m. on a weekday. Any other time, except for the obvious exceptions involving the period of time right before a Steelers game, I’m willing to utilize blitzkrieg and/or shock and awe techniques to end any disagreements.

Mom, on the other hand, has no such aversion to fighting this battle at any point during the day.

Today she decided that Kinz was going to wear this shirt. It’s nice. But, as you can plainly see, it has an argyle pattern that goes right down the middle. Now this really isn’t a cut and dried case. It’s possible that the three diamonds in the argyle design constitute enough of a consistent pattern that covers enough of the shirt that Kinz will deem it wearable without crying. And screaming. And whining. It is also possible that it is included in the “shirts with stuff on them” group that Kinz isn’t going to wear. And she has decided this firmly. Its like she’s decided its just part of who she is. Like irrelevance to Chris Matthews.

But Mom is like Grant at Vicksburg and resistance eventually collapses save a few muted whines.

“Daddy, I really didn’t want to wear this shirt.”

“Too bad kiddo. Whining is always the wrong decision. And that’s what you did. If we let you wear a different shirt now, you’d think that all it took to get your way was lots of whining and crying.”

“No I wouldn’t.”

Did you see that? She seamlessly, almost effortlessly, went from the whining and crying routine right into the sweetness and charm method.

Who is dreading the teen years? This guy…

On the road in Iowa, July, 2007

Flash drives are pretty handy. They’re portable. They can hold lots of important stuff. You can also use them without any discernable skills or training. Like Nancy Pelosi and a gavel.

I have a flash drive. I keep it right next to my computer at home. I take it back and forth to work a lot. It is in and out of my pockets more than Geithner and the boys over at Treasury.

Problem is they small. And are easily misplaced if your are not careful. Like children at Target.

When I get home from work I almost instinctively take it out of my pocket and place next to the computer. There have been a few times I’ve left it on my night stand.

I did this a few days ago. It was also the last time I saw the flash drive in question until last night.

Hmm…

Several things cross my mind. 1) “Dammit!” 2) I’m going to need to design a grid by grid search, bring in some portable spotlights, some bloodhounds and a metal detector. 3) I have three kids.

I ask Riley if she’s seen it.

“Yeah, the last time I saw it was on your night stand.”

That makes sense. That’s the last place I remember seeing it too. I search the night stand and the area surrounding it. No flash drive. But I do find 37 cents and the 2004 Big 12 Football Preview from Athlons. Idiots. They picked the Cyclones to finish last in the North. We tied for first. Beat Nebraska and scored three touchdowns in two minutes to beat Kansas State. They had Darren Sproles that year too.

Anyway, I think to myself that if its not by the night stand, it has to be by the computer. Which sounds suspiciously like, “well, if we don’t get to Moscow by Thanksgiving, we’ll just ride out the winter. It’s not that cold in Russia…”

A thorough search of the desk and floor around the computer reveals nothing except that I really need to clean off the desk and floor around the computer.

Hmm…

“Hey Bailey have you seen the little red thing that I plug into my computer?”

“Yes.”

“Really? Where?”

“Um, I think I saw it in your room.”

She smiles, gets up from the dinner table and leads the way up the stairs into our bedroom.

“I think I saw it by your bed.”

“Where?”

She flips up the bedspread and there it is…plugged into the bed right between the mattress and boxspring.

I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have looked there.

it’s not like magic, it’s like

all big real things

compressed into tiny discs

shut in lockets

around necks that

play songs from

skin-wrapped breastbones,

tones shake marrow, echo

off vessel walls and drive

animals to the hills.

humans hear and burn

their houses, feed their

daughters to coyotes,

bash their sons’ heads

in with bricks and scatter

bone-chunked fistfuls

all over the backyard

like carrion Easter

for vulture children.

If anyone reading is unaware, I am a child of divorce twice. I was not even in kindergarten when my mom and dad split. I was under 14 when mom divorced the second time and remarried the third time. My mom is a wonderful lady and I am glad I had her for my mother but no one is perfect. She made her mistakes but she always made sure she took care of my brothers and I.

Lately I have been visiting, divorce from the eyes of a child. Psycho-analyzing some of my destructive behaviors in light of the instability of a trustworthy father. I have trust issues with men. I am very protective over my girlfriends’ hearts. I have a deep sympathy for the older child of a blended family with younger children from the current marriage. I have insecurity issues and an uncanny way to destroy a relationship before the other person gets the chance to end it. So to say the least I am pretty messed up…LOL

But the question becomes does dad really make a difference in a child’s development. I would error on the side that says, “yes.” Not only does a physically absent father make a difference but so does an emotionally absent father. I have a friend who has a very protective dad. Even though she’s not perfect, you can see the difference in her self -esteem and confidence next to someone like myself. I also have relatives whose father was in the house but emotionally distant. They suffer with the need to find attention even if its bad attention from the male gender.

John Mayer wrote a song called Daughters. It is such a true song. It says, “Fathers be good to your daughters. Daughters will love like you do. Girls become lovers, who turn into mothers, so mothers be good to your daughters too.”

Dad’s you do make a difference; especially when it comes to your little girls. But you also matter to the your little boys they need you as an example on how to be a man. They can’t so much learn that from their mothers. Plus, they learn how to love and treat women primarily from watching you dad.

We need you dads!! You really do make a difference in your child’s development. Ephesians 6:4, “Fathers do not exasperate your children; but bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord.” Fathers when you ignore or leave a child you annoy them in their spirit. You irritate their minds and hearts. You exasperate them and this causes angry and distrust which is displaced on others. We need our dads!!!