Today, Heidi was at a conference in Cedar Rapids all day. A guys' day is something Owen, Alex, and I always enjoy. Today, we went to an Iowa High School Boys' Basketball All-Star basketball game, did a bit of grocery shopping, and hung out around the house. The hanging out included preparing a dinner of pulled pork, baked beans, cole slaw, and sweet potato fries. Granted the last three things were simply purchased, but I was quite proud of the finished produce of bar-b-que pulled pork -- slow cooked for almost 10 hours. The boys enjoyed the opportunity to help me pick up a few fun things for mom, they had fun doing art, and also enjoyed a little bit of basketball on TV.
We were set to take our dinner to our neighbors' house which would lead into the boys' first ever sleep over, and as they became more restless, I relented and allowed a little bit of xbox. Mind you, this is the old-fashioned xbox, so they play NCAA Football 2005. Well, Owen plays. Alex usually lasts a while and eventually decides to either do a puzzle or play with some other toy instead. I've gotten the boys interested in dynasty mode in which they play a season for a team (i.e. Iowa Hawkeyes). They rarely get to play -- and Christmas break was the time it all really started -- but Owen has gotten pretty good at it. Today, in the season-opener against those pesky Missouri Tigers, he was struggling. While tending to the sauce for the pork, I heard him call up the stairs to me. When I went to the stairs, I saw him holding back tears. "Dad," he said, as the tears began to spill out the corners of his eyes, and his voice took on that holding-back-tears-sound, "I'm down six to nothing, and I've thrown three picks." Tears were on the cheeks, and the voice was cracking. I calmly told him to go sit in time-out, and as he walked by me, I said, "When you get out of time-out, I want you to tell me why I sent you there." (note for those who think that was harsh: time-out in this case is "cooling off" not punishment)
A few minutes later, Owen was out of time-out, and I asked him why I sent him there. He said, "Because I was crying about a video game." YES! I continued the conversation with him about all the blessings in his life, and then said, "It's just a video game, but you're frustrated about it. What can you learn from it?" He said, "Toughen up." "Yes," I said, "And . . ." "And get better."
There you have it folks. So often life forces us to do just that. Toughen up. And get better. I'm proud of my son! (And, yes, I told him so.)
Indeed . . . Never give up hope. Romans 5:3-5
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Drive to Minnesota and other tidbits
Today, Owen had a birthday party to attend. We usually make an effort provide fun for the child who doesn't have a birthday party. Upon being asked what he wanted to do, Alex said, "Play some Wii." I said, "Well, Alex . . . you need to clean the house, do the laundry, and drive to Minnesota to buy a new car." He said, "Well, Dad, if I drive to Minnesota, I'll get stopped by the police." Almost as if the kid thought he really needed to do this thing. With the temps in the 70s (noting this for our PA guests) Alex shot baskets, rode his bike, and played with friends. The house is clean enough, and who knows what to do about a car?!?!?
Beyond that, I found myself holding back tears a couple times today.
* Our pastor talked about how so many of us live the "sit on the couch" life. We might put a check mark by many of the things we believe, but it's not just a check. God isn't telling us "check"; he's telling us "go". I can put a check mark by a many things. Beautiful wife. Beautiful children. Good house. Two vehicles. Even a dog. What am I doing? I do a great deal, and yet . . . . . . suffering and pain in Japan, Libya, Afganistan . . . life is bigger than us or our little daily goings-on. I am so pleased to be connected to you, but life is bigger.
* I opened a meltaway coffeecake from Jaarsma Bakery in Pella today -- purchased after a track meet at Central College. As I placed it on a plate and cut it, I truly felt the presence of my mom and dad. It was powerful. Such a little thing. But it meant I called them and left a message in which I had a hard time finishing what I had to say.
* I read of some folks who believe the world will end in May -- or maybe December. Every time I read stuff like that, I think of the DM Register article in 1992 about the world ending on my friend Drew's birthday. Yes . . . the world was to end on Oct. 28, 1992. We're still here.
* Owen was having a hard time sleeping after listening to the first chapter of the first Harry Potter book. As I held him in my arms, I played guitar and made up a song. He was asleep in no time. I pray I remember it.
Sometimes, when you recall a tiny little event, you are forced to face your mortality.
Difficult though it may be, it is beautiful.
Remember. . .
Beyond that, I found myself holding back tears a couple times today.
* Our pastor talked about how so many of us live the "sit on the couch" life. We might put a check mark by many of the things we believe, but it's not just a check. God isn't telling us "check"; he's telling us "go". I can put a check mark by a many things. Beautiful wife. Beautiful children. Good house. Two vehicles. Even a dog. What am I doing? I do a great deal, and yet . . . . . . suffering and pain in Japan, Libya, Afganistan . . . life is bigger than us or our little daily goings-on. I am so pleased to be connected to you, but life is bigger.
* I opened a meltaway coffeecake from Jaarsma Bakery in Pella today -- purchased after a track meet at Central College. As I placed it on a plate and cut it, I truly felt the presence of my mom and dad. It was powerful. Such a little thing. But it meant I called them and left a message in which I had a hard time finishing what I had to say.
* I read of some folks who believe the world will end in May -- or maybe December. Every time I read stuff like that, I think of the DM Register article in 1992 about the world ending on my friend Drew's birthday. Yes . . . the world was to end on Oct. 28, 1992. We're still here.
* Owen was having a hard time sleeping after listening to the first chapter of the first Harry Potter book. As I held him in my arms, I played guitar and made up a song. He was asleep in no time. I pray I remember it.
Sometimes, when you recall a tiny little event, you are forced to face your mortality.
Difficult though it may be, it is beautiful.
Remember. . .
Friday, March 11, 2011
Disney World . . . or bust?
So tonight at dinner, out of the blue, Alex said, "Mom, I want you to have a new baby." Now some might wonder about the possibility of an old baby, but that's another notion all together. Anyway . . .
A few weeks back, we asked the boys what they would rather have: a new house or a baby brother or sister. This is something for us to consider. Why? Well, we're hoping to soon have a new house, but sometimes we think we might like a third child. Why not both? Um, the third child would be a second mortgage payment with daycare expenses alone, and we couldn't do both. The boys just weren't sure (well, actually, they wanted both).
So tonight when Alex made his announcement, I said, "New baby's are expensive. It might even mean we couldn't go to Disney World." When they asked why, I said that we wouldn't be able to afford it. Oh, the looks of thoughtfulness and consideration that crossed their faces . . .
Alex then said, "I know. Mom could stay home with the baby . . . "
Yes, you guessed it. He considered the option of a stay-at-home mom while I go to work. Right?
Wrong. What came from his mouth was quite the comment, especially from this little boy who cherishes his mom above all others.
"Mom could stay home with the baby, and Dad could take us to Disney World."
And there it is. Truth. Spoken at the dinner table.
And for those of you wondering . . . we aren't having a third child (unless we win the lottery). But we do hope to go to Disney World (all four of us) in the next year or two.
A few weeks back, we asked the boys what they would rather have: a new house or a baby brother or sister. This is something for us to consider. Why? Well, we're hoping to soon have a new house, but sometimes we think we might like a third child. Why not both? Um, the third child would be a second mortgage payment with daycare expenses alone, and we couldn't do both. The boys just weren't sure (well, actually, they wanted both).
So tonight when Alex made his announcement, I said, "New baby's are expensive. It might even mean we couldn't go to Disney World." When they asked why, I said that we wouldn't be able to afford it. Oh, the looks of thoughtfulness and consideration that crossed their faces . . .
Alex then said, "I know. Mom could stay home with the baby . . . "
Yes, you guessed it. He considered the option of a stay-at-home mom while I go to work. Right?
Wrong. What came from his mouth was quite the comment, especially from this little boy who cherishes his mom above all others.
"Mom could stay home with the baby, and Dad could take us to Disney World."
And there it is. Truth. Spoken at the dinner table.
And for those of you wondering . . . we aren't having a third child (unless we win the lottery). But we do hope to go to Disney World (all four of us) in the next year or two.
Monday, March 7, 2011
Invention -- Patent Pending
Remember the time your mom or dad or uncle or aunt or . . . someone helped you do something that sticks in your mind to this day? That something that helped them achieve iconic status in your mind? Well, I don't know if this will be that moment for Owen, but it's something I'll remember as a very special father/son experience . . .
Owen's assignment for "show and share" last week was to invent something or build something using items from around the house. At first, he wanted to make a Tooth-Puller-Outer. We envisioned things made with clothes pins, string, and weights.
The night before he was to present, we still had nothing. I had gone to a Waukee girls' basketball game, and picked the boys up from church where they had been while Heidi was having a meeting there. It was about 6:30. The 8 p.m. bedtime was just around the corner. So on the brief ride home, we talked about what he could make. Tooth-Puller-Outer? No. What about a Student Success Kit? (I was pretty excited about this idea.) No. Then he said it. "I was thinking mini-tetherball." I asked what he envisioned. "Well, you know. Like tetherball, but something we could play at our desk." At first, I was ready to say "no way!" But instead I took the bait and asked how he thought he might do it. He mentioned play dough and a pot. Suddenly, the vision was in my head, and when we got home, out came the drill. He snagged a super ball from the garage and the play dough from the "art section" of the hall closet, and we started working. Granted, the drill meant I did much of the work (and drilling a hole in a super ball is quite interesting), but it was Owen's vision. When we finished, we enjoyed a quick game before getting ready to bed. Fully functional mini-tetherball!
What you see below is the finished product. It was a hit at school, and Owen was thrilled.
The boys like to play it at home, and we think it could mean we're rich. Well, probably not in terms of money, but at least in terms of joyful memories.
Owen's assignment for "show and share" last week was to invent something or build something using items from around the house. At first, he wanted to make a Tooth-Puller-Outer. We envisioned things made with clothes pins, string, and weights.
The night before he was to present, we still had nothing. I had gone to a Waukee girls' basketball game, and picked the boys up from church where they had been while Heidi was having a meeting there. It was about 6:30. The 8 p.m. bedtime was just around the corner. So on the brief ride home, we talked about what he could make. Tooth-Puller-Outer? No. What about a Student Success Kit? (I was pretty excited about this idea.) No. Then he said it. "I was thinking mini-tetherball." I asked what he envisioned. "Well, you know. Like tetherball, but something we could play at our desk." At first, I was ready to say "no way!" But instead I took the bait and asked how he thought he might do it. He mentioned play dough and a pot. Suddenly, the vision was in my head, and when we got home, out came the drill. He snagged a super ball from the garage and the play dough from the "art section" of the hall closet, and we started working. Granted, the drill meant I did much of the work (and drilling a hole in a super ball is quite interesting), but it was Owen's vision. When we finished, we enjoyed a quick game before getting ready to bed. Fully functional mini-tetherball!
What you see below is the finished product. It was a hit at school, and Owen was thrilled.
The boys like to play it at home, and we think it could mean we're rich. Well, probably not in terms of money, but at least in terms of joyful memories.
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