Protect yourself while you protect your kids

Dads,

If you have ever taken your kids into one of those beach souvenir shops, you know there are dangers all around. Once inside, you quickly change into Super Traffic Cop! You direct flow and setup barriers in an effort to avoid those items that want to grow your kids up too fast. You know the T-shirts and mugs I'm talking about. You heroically dart here and there protecting their eyes, trying diligently to escape any embarrassing questions. All the while, there is a hidden danger that is flanking you on both sides. It is lurking right before your eyes and you need to protect yourself.

I'm speaking of those adorable quarter-sized turtles swimming so happily in their aquariums. There are hundreds of them, all wearing their OD greens and preparing to attack. One glance and your kids are mesmerized. You too fix your eyes on the sprawling creatures and get lost in the sea of overlapping shells. Then you hear it. Those words uttered millions of times by your offspring. "Daddy, can I have one?" You mull it over for a few seconds, weighing the short term costs with the long term risks. You glance at your watch and think about all the caravaneers that are beating you to the interstate home. In a knee jerk response, you glance at the 88 cent sale sign and give your naive, head-nodding approval. Back in the car, you savor the smiles and hugs that come with the "Father of the Year" award that you have just received! In the back of your mind, you contemplate this new 3-month responsibility you just added to your plate and you're good with it.

... fast forward ...

Well, it turns out your little one picked a winner. Of the hundreds of tiny, armor-wearing bandits, your turtle is the rarest and healthiest. You have been cleaning her tank for five years now. You are on your 3rd tank and you swear she doubles her size the second she touches the new water. You have watched her grow and gladly forked over that hard earned money for all the necessary supplies. You have popped enough Advil for that sore back to keep the drug manufacturer in business. That trophy you received in the car those many years ago does not seem as shiny, but you persevere. Because you are unsure what the future holds, you contemplate an update to your will just so she will be taken care of along with your natural children. You fear no one (in there right mind) would sacrafice as you have sacraficed so many times. In your anxiety, you wonder about pet heaven.

I tried to have fun with this post, but do not miss what I am trying to say. Never... I mean never under estimate that visit to the souvenir shop. Protect yourself. To those avid turtle lovers out there that might be offended, please flame me so I know who to call when I need encouragement.

"Phone a friend" ... yeah right

Inventors of the popular game show "Who wants to be a millionaire?" struck gold with introduction of the "life line" and "phone a friend" contest gimmicks. Perhaps at the initial pilot, picking up the phone (to actually speak) was still common practice. Today, however, this is not the case. The idea of picking up the phone to call someone is becoming foreign. Text, email, or even Facebook a friend sure, but to phone ... forget about it.

What does all this non-verbal communication do to society? Smarter people probably answer and debate this question all time. I can not. What I can point out is this kind of disconnect is not new. Men have experienced this forever. That is, we have a tendency to clam up. Sure, we can talk business with colleagues, clients, etc. We can even strike up conversations with people we need things from. But developing a good friendship and doing what it takes to maintain is hard. I am no exception. Tonight I heard Chip Ingram on the radio say "if you want to have a good friend, try being a good friend."

So when I got home I made that awkward phone call to a friend, just to say "hey". I am setting out to be a good friend.

What dragons need to be slain?

Looking back over my first development job, I recall how blessed I was. In an environment reserved for post-grads, I was granted a rare opportunity to do what I loved ... code. There were tough problems and they were in abundance. In my mind, I was the underdog. This was the perfect stage to see what I was made of. A proving grounds of sorts. "Dragons" all around... would I run... or would I fight!

Fast forwarding a dozen years, I am happy to say I fought bravely. The fast paced career of computer technology continues to throw curve balls and there are always dragons that need to be slain. I am thankful for the thoughtful people that got me off to a good start. I appreciate those that made me stay on top of the "#1 problems" and encouraged me to not give up.

Glory be to God

At 37k feet, I am enjoying the view this morning. My family and I talk about clouds on road trips. My amateur meteorologists in the backseat re-educate me on these wonderful creations. As I reflect on the wonders of God, I become saddened to recall the ideas some folks have about creation. On occasion, my son and I will speak of the "sludge" theory that some hold. You know the one. It goes something like ... the amoeba crawls on to land, grows hairy arms/legs, becomes an ape, and then decides to stand up to become man. If someone can hold tightly to that one, I am sure there's a creative, "man made" tale to explain the mystery of our atmosphere's origin and these wonderful, puffy cotton balls in the sky. As for me and my family, we are going to stick with the original revelation found in Genesis.

Thank you God for your wonders. Today, the clouds are crying out your majesty and sovereignty. Thank you for eyes that can see.

Rite of Passage (Disney Day 2)

Today, Blake overcame what I call the twisting and dropping fear. You remember those days as a kid at your childhood amusement park. You sat peering over the rail at that big gnarly, steel contraption that promised to lift you, excite you, and thrill you. You passed on it for a couple years pretending not to be interested ... and certainly not scared ... out of your mind. Just the mere sight of it tied your stomach into knots. For me, I believe it was Carolina Cyclone at Carowinds.

I am convinced that Disney helps children overcome this fear through the mastery of concealment. If you look at the big ones from their waiting line, you cannot exactly see what you are signing up for. For example, Blake did not hestitate to enter Magic Kingdom's Space Mountain on that second Disney day. Of course, I had never ridden it so I couldn't offer any advise or excuse to turn back. We entered the domed structure via the FastPass lane and quickly moved through the dark passage straight to our awaiting rocket ship. As you may know, each rider has his/her own car ... gulp. We blasted off through whiplashing turns and bottomless drops. In the end, he was happy to have experienced this rite of passage but was not interested in a repeat flight just yet.

To prove it was not just a fluke, Blake manned up to the Hollywood Studios' Tower of Terror. I was quite impressed!

My first ears at 36

My kids are aged 9, 6, and 4. I am 36. Each year since our first son, Blake, was born we have toyed with the idea of joining the droves of Disney enthusiasts in the annual caravan to Florida where Mickey, Minnie, Donald, Daisy, Goofy, and Pluto, the other non-talking dog, live. However, each year we would pass on the voyage; often saying "the kids are just too young." Well, nine years later, we decided to make 2010 a little different. We were blessed with the means to finance the 2nd mortgage, uh I mean expedition, and it just seemed like the "right" combination of ages.

Today, I managed to put the 9-hour car trip behind me. The evening bus ride to Magic Kingdom was a breeze, I told myself. And like a seasoned runningback, I weaved through the other tourists like mere practice cones. I stepped onto the grid iron that is Main Street with 3 kids in tow and an equally excited wife. We had arrived! There, some 3 football field lengths ahead of me was the magnificent castle. It was late and the fairy godmothers were doing their switch-a-roo thing with the dazzling colors. After my two mesmerized daughters snapped out of it, they began filling me in on the color selection and the patterns were were seeing on the castle's facade. I am amazed!

My parents reminded me we went when I was four or five, but everytime I bring up a memory Dad indicates that was "actually" at such-and-such or so-in-so. This week I plan on purchasing my first (or second) pair of ears!

A second chance at gold...

Today, I watched my slugger climb back up on top of the mound for his second appearance. I was so proud as I witnessed tremendous improvement from his earlier attempt. This time he had more control on the ball, control on his breathing (i.e. nerves), and I think I even saw him smile a couple times. I grinned ear to ear has Blake retired his first batter ever - 1 called, 2 swinging. Some two batters later, he would stare down his second victim.

Today, I struck out 2 batters. Through our kids, we are given second chances to re-live our youth. I don't recommend being one of those parents who brow-beats their children to succeed in every activity, in a selfish attempt to live vicariously through them. Rather, simply enjoy the opportunity to recall your past experiences. Celebrate like a kid when yours wins. Remember how you felt when you did not.