A Good Daddy

Written by Lee

I'll never forget the night of our very first date. I was 22-years-old and the world was big and mine. I arrived with my friend to his Hollywood apartment. We were going on a casual group date to see Blues Traveler play at The Palace in Hollywood. He was hanging at home with my friend's boyfriend and a few others who would cruise on over with us to the show.

I was nervous.

He was cool. He was gorgeous. He was sexy.

And he didn't even know any of those things about himself which made him all the more all of those things. My friend and I had just come from my apartment in Brentwood where we had chosen the appropriate early 90's clothes to wear for a festive night in Hollywood at The Palace seeing Blues Traveler. I guess it was a mixture of hippie and denim if I remember it right. Black leggings, some kind of undershirt, a long denim overshirt, some hippie necklaces. My hair was still in the permed category - long blonde curls.

We knocked on his door but he wasn't the one who opened it. Some other dude did. As soon as the door swung open, I saw him. He stood in his living room in the midst of a small group of friends in a mellow loose button-down shirt, a pair of jeans, and longish blonde hair that hung mellowly at his shoulders. He looked a tad thinner than I had remembered but there was no denying it. This guy made my heart skip a beat. He had one foot propped up on the coffee table and over his shoulder was draped a shiny black cat. When he saw me, he smiled a sweet hello and all the while, he gently pet his cat with such tenderness that the image is seared into my memory. And I am not known to have a good memory. At. All.

In that instant, I thought to myself, "Wow, this guy is gonna be one amazing daddy someday."

The journey from that fateful moment is filled with twists and turns and adventures and passion and freedom and youth and spontaneaity and music and reckless abandon and fear and faith and youth and growing up and doubt and decision....and it all ended in a lifelong commitment that I am certain will be just that. Life. Long. And even beyond.

I never quite understood how love could create new life but our love showed me the way. And from the moment we walked hand-in-hand to witness the results of our first home pregnancy test and that little line hit us between our hearts like a ton of bricks and fear shot through me like a bolt of lightning, I knew the only way I could survive becoming a mother was if he were by my side. And thank God he was. And thank God he is.

His strength is quiet but there is no denying that he is my rock. Gently holding me in place as I waver and slowly pulling me to safety when I have wandered away too far. His love for our children is humbling to me. His patience and tenderness is beyond what I could ever ever give to them.

He looked me square in the eyes as I pushed and pushed to birth our firstborn after hours and hours of excrutiating labor - with my feet on each of his shoulders - and he calmly, with love and conviction, encouraged me to keep going. As we welcomed one, then two, then three souls into the world, I was reminded again and again and again that although I do not generally believe in soulmates, I had found mine.

This tender soul of a man knows no boundaries when it comes to his children. There is nothing he can not do when it comes to caring for our kids. His affection and focus and loyalty is rare. His identity does not come from work or friends or hobbies. He is a daddy first and foremost. He is most fulfilled hanging on the sofa with three giggling creatures climbing all over him in one big entangled mess of love.

Our children are so incredibly blessed to have him in their lives. Their love and their hearts and their souls will feel a safety and security and strength and centeredness and belonging because he is theirs.

He is their daddy. And I'm telling you, he is good.

My Life/Her Life Before My Eyes

Written by Karen, a mom without a blog

This past weekend, I had the absolute privilege to watch my oldest daughter perform one of the leads in her middle school play. Nothing does a parent prouder than seeing your offspring shine on stage. You’d think that watching her and feeling my heart swell with pride would be one of those seriously defining moments of parenthood…

Well, you’d be right… but not in the way you might think. That moment just got the ball rolling…

To give perspective, you have to travel back in time with me a bit and realize that I was not someone who was destined to be a mother. I was never one to coo, coddle and drool over every baby, toddler and child who happened to cross my path.

I cringe now to admit my disinterest in anything child…

To be a MOM, well that was so far off my radar… In my 20s, I was all about my career, my friends and FUN. I wasn’t really up for the kind of 24/7 – no turning back kind of commitment that motherhood presented…sorry, not for me.

Enter my gorgeous husband, a man I felt most certainly was my match within just a few dates… Um, you may hate me for this, but we became pregnant only 3 months into our relationship! Ooops!!!! Luckily, we were destined for each other, which eased (a bit) the apprehension of what pregnancy would eventually do to my body and my life. 

We married on New Years Eve 1994 – just a few days shy of my being unable to squeeze into my wedding gown. After the excitement of the wedding, moving in together and the honeymoon died down, reality started to hit… Big time.

AHHHHHHH! I’m pregnant!!! My belly was starting to bulge and a little “fluttering” was happening inside - proof that a REAL baby was GROWING and MOVING AROUND inside of me! My entire life was just months from changing in ways I really didn’t think were possible – at least not for me!

I was mostly calm (true to my basic personality), but I had many, many, many moments of complete fear and total panic. I remember pulling over into a grocery store parking lot in LA, calling my new hubby at work and tearfully wailing, “WHAT am I EVER going to feed this thing when it comes out???”

It’s so difficult to truly describe what being pregnant is really like until you experience it, right? I remember peace, I remember ridiculous HUNGER, I remember tears, I remember Big Macs, I remember falling asleep at work, I remember huge ankles, I remember severe anxiety, I remember birthing classes, tours and books. I remember the brownie I had that put me into labor, I remember fear that I was going to die, I remember ice chips, I remember intense pain, I remember wonderful epidural relief, I remember pushing FOREVER, I remember the threat of forceps, I remember the last push, I remember purple baby, suction, crying baby, crying daddy, crying me – then BOOM – a bundle wrapped neatly in a clean blanket. This bundle had DIMPLES. This bundle was ours. Wow, double wow, three dimples…triple wow.

You would think that this moment of the birth of my first child was the absolute defining moment of parenthood for me. It was on that day, I guess… but I truly had NO IDEA. I mean people tell you that it is difficult to be a parent, but don’t really TELL you.  

As my Teenage Princess commanded center stage last Friday night, I truly saw her life flash before my eyes. I instantly realized I couldn’t pinpoint any one moment that defined motherhood for me. It was just a rush of memories – flashes – that wouldn’t stop…

I saw a colicky baby screaming her way through every dinner hour for 3 months straight.

I saw my dad become a proud, fascinated, completely hooked grandpa.

I saw my beloved dog become an afterthought stuck out on the back porch.

I saw a charming toddler pulling every book from the bottom two shelves of our bookcase for the 200th time.

I saw a preschooler whose closest friends were boys.

I saw a preschooler who was so PAINFULLY shy she couldn’t tell anyone her own name when asked.

I saw a kindergartener play soccer on a team she called “Dog-a-mations” – and proudly wearing the matching hair bows that were next to impossible to add to the shortest little girl haircut ever.

I saw a 6-year-old witness a child sing the National Anthem at Dodger Stadium and proclaim, “I want to do that someday.”

I saw that same child audition less than a year later at the Minor League AAA Club, Salt Lake Stingers, and wow everyone with her rendition of “Oh say can you see…”

I saw a 7, 8 and 9-year-old who wanted to try every sport, dance class, activity and camp anyone could ever dream up… all by herself… we never had to sign her up with a friend, she was fine with putting herself into something new without peer support.

I saw a 9-year-old on a family camping trip, look at a plate of cookies with only two left and… instead of giving one to her 4 year old sister, immediately SHOVING both into her mouth before anyone noticed. 

I saw a 10-year-old decide to leave her neighborhood school and start to attend a charter school that concentrated on one of her major loves – the arts. Again, on her own.

I saw a fifth grader pulled in a thousand directions emotionally as she watched her newborn baby sister struggle daily with trying to live.

I saw an 11-year-old take acting classes, get an agent and force auditions on her family even though she remained quiet and shy.

I saw a little kid with crooked teeth and a sweet, soft voice go HURTLING down an icy slope on skis, whipping around gates, trying her best to get a better time than her dad.

I saw a 12-year-old begging her parents to let her sign up for a 2009 mission trip to Africa with her church youth group. In a whole other country on a whole other continent on the other side of the world – without her mom.

I saw a 13-year-old insist on applying to a unique academic program for next year in HIGH SCHOOL (yes, high school) that will again take her away from her neighborhood, but will give her unlimited opportunities.

I see a budding teen slowly pulling away and growing up – one whose embarrassment of me only solidifies my place in the mom club.

I’ve seen my almost 14-year-old struggle through the complete morass of middle school issues and come out at the end absolutely SHINING.

Center stage… bright lights and all… teeth finally straightened from years of braces, her dimples absolutely blazing, all her mom can think about is… how did I get so lucky?

It took FOREVER for us to see her after the performance, but when we did, we hugged her and she burst into tears, unable to believe that it was all over.

…What is it about getting a hug from mom that still brings out the waterworks? And is it sick that I actually enjoyed, no reveled in that sweet moment? (Before she hastily cleaned up her running makeup, put on a brave face and turned to face her friends).

Seeing my teenager’s life flash before my eyes also served as a mental scrapbook of my life as a mother. I can’t believe how fast it has gone… she forced me into becoming a mom when I wasn’t ready and constantly challenges me to stay on my game, but I wouldn’t change a MINUTE of it.

I guess I feel like the journey I’ve been on with my teenager over the past 14 years is not close to complete, and I realize that I’m no longer even close to cool or hip anymore. In her eyes, I’m “just a mom.”

But for me, for now, that’s okay…

I’ll take a mountain of defining moments (and countless more to come), soggy, emotional hugs and living as “just a mom” and I’ll use them as a re-affirmation of my place in the cock-eyed, tremendously fulfilling land of motherhood. A place I used to fear (for valid reasons it turns out), but a place I’m willing to continue to struggle each day to embrace. It’s absolutely worth it.

My gorgeous husband and I adoring our new baby girl, Samantha

The beginning of my life with her 

From Lee: Sorry peeps I couldn't resist.  This is me and my dude holding 

Karen's precious baby girl waaaayyyyy before we were ever ready to be parents.

Karen emailed me this pic and wow. Time flies.

Sami at her 4th birthday party surrounded by all of her dude friends.

My brace-filled 5th grader with her gorgeous dimples

Her public singing debut

My quiet daughter brave in front of thousands!

My little girl about to graduate from 8th grade

Missing Boy Alert

Written by Kath

I was wondering if you could all help me out with something. 

It seems as if my oldest child, my son, has gone missing. I’m not sure of the exact time he left, but I can’t find him anywhere. Maybe if I describe him, you can tell me if you’ve seen him around.

Eleven years ago, my sweet boy entered this world. After 12 hours of labor and 4 strong pushes, he single-handedly changed my world forever. He made me a mother and my life has never been the same since. Those early days together were certainly no picnic. The transition to motherhood was not an easy one for me. But we persevered.

When he was 6 weeks old he flashed his first real toothy grin at yours truly. It was the first time in my life that I thought my heart would literally burst from my chest and explode. Never before had I felt such love. It was amazing.

As he grew, we became the best of buddies. During our daily walks he would point out things he noticed. The tiny flowers growing at the base of the trees. The funny shape of clouds. The butterflies flitting in the garden.

I never knew I had been missing so much.

We loved trips to the zoo. We’d sit on a bench eating our favorite snack of "Chicken In A Biskit" while we watched the raccoon jump from tree to tree. Then we’d cruise over to the petting zoo where he could sit on a real (REAL!) John Deere tractor.  Wow!

But our favorite thing to do was to pack a lunch and head out in search of a construction site. We’d sit and munch and discuss all things construction-ish. He taught me the difference between a crawler back-hoe and a front-loader back-hoe (yep, there is a difference). We clapped with utter joy when a large dump truck would dump its load. The sound was phenomenal!

After five years, my boy went on to all-day kindergarten and my world was rocked a bit. I missed our time together. I haven’t admitted this to many people (but we’re all family here, so what the heck).  I would find excuses to run errands at just the very time he’d be out on the playground at recess. Yes, I would stalk my own child just to get a glimpse of him. I missed him that deeply.

Even with school, though, our bond continued. There were hugs and kisses at the end of the school day with lengthy discussions of everything that happened in his little life. I was there through the sports and scouts, cheering him on, being his number one fan.

But lately, I can’t seem to find my boy. 

In his place, someone new has moved into our house. A complete stranger, really. This new boy isn’t fond of washing his hair. He’s sporting a smattering of pimples across his nose. After a particularly strenuous baseball practice when this boy gets in the car, it gets a little “gamey” (if you catch my “drift”). Windows are rolled down quickly for a gasp, er - breath of fresh air.

Without a doubt, the most difficult part of this new boy is that he thinks I’m a complete idiot. The eye-rolling and exasperated sighs in response to most anything I say (for instance, “Did you finish your math homework?”) is shocking to me. At times, he gets so frustrated explaining something to me (a real simpleton, I am!) that he just quits and walks away. Yep. He thinks I am a complete and utter idiot.

There was a moment during this past week when I thought I caught sight of my son. He had just scored a run for his team after having his first “major” league hit. As he ran into the dugout, his eyes scanned the bleachers until they met mine. Then he flashed me that amazing smile, similar to the one that made my heart want to burst 11 short years ago. But unfortunately, after the game, the “new guy” was back.  *Sigh*

So, if any of you have seen my first-born, could you tell him to come home? Please? I miss him achingly. 

Or if you have any advice on how to get him back, I'm all ears.