The Little Moment: A tale of realization as a dad.

My life, as of late, has been measured by the moment. To some this may be a dad thing, in this case it is amazing. This weekend I took some time and headed to a park with Zoey and David. I have been working with the  City Dads Group and finally was able to get a chapter started here in Richmond, VA. While this has added to the never-ending list of things that I am working on, it is extremely important. I have benefitted through my current journey from countless other dads. This has empowered me to do something to help others. I have watched a community building itself out of awesomeness.  City Dads is a community of fathers that work hard to redefine fatherhood in the 21st century. I am so happy to be bringing this to Richmond, leading the charge, but that is a story for later.

There was a moment while we were walking on the trail that struck me.

moment of joy

The recent rain brought forth a bouquet of fresh aromas under the canopy of the trees. The deep, earthen soil mulling with sweet pine being baked in the humid spring heat brought memories of my childhood forward. I watched as their little bodies would lean and run around the winding path. The joy and excitement of each and every step reverberated through the deep woods.  The rapid scraping sound of little shoes running across fine gravel echoed with a cacophonous tumult, pushed further with the sound of laughter.

“There are only two lasting bequests we can hope to give our children. One of these is roots, the other, wings.” -Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Taking this time with my kids means the world to me. It is my honor and duty to raise them up to be better than myself. It was in this moment, far from the sounds of suburban life, that the juxtaposition of the quote struck me.  As I glanced through the trees, over the standing water, and watched the blur of my son and daughter, I smiled. This moment was the embodiment of the quote from Goethe. My children were simultaneously showing their roots and wings. It was beautiful, and inspiring.

This is not a mark of completion, but a trail marker on the way. It is a sign that I am doing something right, that amidst the trials and failures, there is something beginning to grow.

 

Live big, love bigger, and be kind, always.

Sleep, where we are going we don’t need sleep…

For far too long we have been off the radar. We have been working hard at creating a new format for our vlogs, and those should be starting again soon. Kati has been doing an awesome job juggling all that there is to do taking care of a house full of children.  I have been working towards launching a dad’s group here in Richmond, more preparation on a book that I am writing, projects, and more projects. Sleep has long since been a common thing for either of us.

Averaging, still, three hours of interrupted sleep has been my thing so long that I think I am going to make business cards that state it. At current, it is not due to the (almost) eight month old Jacob, or the potty-training three year old David, or even the amazing and full of life five year old Zoey. Life. It is the time of year where projects are the thing to do. Also, scraping every moment of family time that we can. Sure, there is the awesomeness of the days lasting longer.  That SO helps when you tell your kids that it is time to go to sleep.  David, in particular, has gotten great about pointing out that the sun is still up.  This means that it is not bed time, right?

“Every mountain top is within reach is you just keep climbing”. Barry Finlay, Kilimanjaro and Beyond

But, there is a ray of hope. There is a glimmer of light cresting over the pinnacle of this phase of life. We can see the cairn that we have been building in this place, as we face the light. The work that we have done, the nights that we have spent working, are coming to an end. Soon, we will be at the peak, facing a new dawn, and a slope that we can coast down.

There is more to come. Hopefully it is all awesomeness. There will, undoubtedly, be many more summits ahead of us. But, and this may be the lack of sleep speaking, I think that we can take them on. Thanks for hanging in there with us.

Live big, love bigger, and be kind, always.

Putting Fear in the Fearless: Tales of Failure as a Father

Yesterday, my world stopped, and a fear arose. I am still shaking off the ghost of what happened. Sleep has not gone well.

This weekend was a long and busy one. On the list of activities was getting together with my Dad, stepmom, and family.  We wanted to hang out, and have the kiddos go swimming at the hotel. So, we packed up and headed to the other side of town. The overcast, rain-laden clouds hung heavily in the sky, however, this did not affect the interior of our minivan as we traversed through the city. The littles knew we were on our way to see Grandpa and Grandma.  Their conversation was peppered with comments about pizza and even the word “pool.” As for Kati and I, our conversation was more softened about the busy times we have found ourselves in.

We arrived. Like a heard of animals we descended upon the hotel’s atrium. There, family and pizza boxes awaited. The boys took over a table to snack, juggle children, and play cribbage. Some of the children wandered over asking what we were playing. Smiles flippantly appeared upon all of the dad’s faces, it was about time to pass this game on to the next generation. Such a stoic torch, one that has been passed throughout our family for longer than many of us know.

After some pizza, and cribbage, the locals were getting restless. It was also at that time that some of the other children needed to go home for naps.  So, the gaggle was reduced to our three and one of my nieces.  My brother stayed to hang out with us, and to see if his daughter wanted to swim. So, a quick change into swimsuits was had. There is something amazing about the sound of little feat running down long halls. The heavy padded carpet making a thud, thud, thud that reverberates as the base, below the trill of their voices. The anticipation and excitement crescendos with each and every spoken word. I am thankful that it was mid-afternoon. This lessened my fear that anyone could be sleeping. We opened the door to the small indoor pool and all worked to contain the excitement of the children.

I hopped in the pool.  Like children looking at a puppy both Zoey and David circled around the pool, they wanted to jump in. They listened. Many of the methods that I have learned, and those that were added by family swim lessons at the Y took hold. I watched as they both sat down, feet dangling in the warm water.  My children don’t fear the water.  Heck, they do not really fear anything. They know that they are strong, I know that they are resourceful, and my fear is that they are fearless.

When it comes to water, I have a long history. I have been on swim teams since I was a teenager.  Though not the fastest, there was a passion. This passion still exists today. I would rather be in a pool swimming endless laps over a short sprint on a track, any day. I took scuba diving for credit in college… because I wanted to. Since then I have used my certification speeding time floating in the endless abyss. As a result, I have learned not to completely fear, but to respect the water. Most of all, I have learned that things can happen in a second that can change your life, or even end it.

Much like looking to the stars and running barefoot in the grass, I have been working with my kids on learning how to swim. Teaching them that some fear is good, and a ton of respect is better. We have taken family swim lessons, and have plans for more. My comfortable relationship with water is something that I want to pass on. For both its power and its beauty are mesmerizing.

I pointed to Zoey. She stood, hands exactly wringing themselves. I counted, using my fingers, to three, and with a high-pitched, gleeful scream, she jumped to me. We laughed, and giggled. I moved her back to the side to hold on. As she was climbing out, I pointed to David.  He stood, and I could not see any fear, just the contained excitement shivering through his little body.  I counted, using my fingers, to three, and he leaped into my arms with a scream of joy.  For what seems like forever, this rotation continued.

Eventually we ended up in the shallows. 3 feet deep, stairs with a rail. I looked and there was the rest of the family. My niece was playing in the shallows, showing me how tall she was. My dad and brother were playing a game, while Kati and my step-mom were chatting (Jacob in tow). Meanwhile, my two wanted rides.  So, I started with Zoey. David sat down on the steps, holding onto the rail, as we had practiced. With a whoosh I was off with Zoey. As I made it to the middle of the deep end, I turned to look… and my heart stopped.

David had decided to stand up, his foot slipped, as did his hand. He was in water over his head. His arms began to flail, he tried to call out for help. My son was drowning.

 

fear has come

 

Fear gripped me like a vice, and my heart stopped.

In a flash I jerked towards him, arm stretched. I needed to get to my boy. Zoey was on my back, arms around my neck. As I made this move she tightened. My scream for help, for anyone on the side to help my boy, it was cut off as her little arms held on for dear life.

He just kept flailing, and bobbing, struggling to float, trying to breath. I tried to lunge towards him again. Fear riddled me as I tried to reach my drowning son. One arm outstretched, with every tendon and fiber reaching for him in vain. I tried to scream again. My chest pounding against my daughters little arms wrapped tightly around my neck. I reached up to pull Zoey’s arms off my throat as a blur came from the right of the pool.

In the wake of it all, by pure chance, my brother happened to look at me. He saw the look of horror and fear on my face. Following my gaze, he saw David. He leapt to action, and leapt into the pool.  He pulled David up and held him close as I finally reached them.

In that moment, all were on their feet. My brother placed David on the side of the pool, he sat there coughing and crying as we flocked to him. I have never been so happy to see a coughing little boy in my whole life. I reached out for him as tears filled my eyes.

My heart began to beat, slowly. But the fear remained.

I hugged him, looked in his eyes, asking over and over again if he was ok.

“Oh-tay daddy” he replied, over and over again.

Finally, after a few minutes, many tears, and some towels, we continued our play, though a bit more restrained than before.

Now we watch and make sure that there are no signs of Dry Drowning. This is something that all parents should be aware of, and never experience. It will add a whole new level of fear regarding the pool for your kids. Long and short of Dry Drowning is where some water enters the lungs. It causes some swelling that limits the oxygen exchange, and has the same result (and effects) of drowning. It can happen with a delay up to 24 hours before the person shows any signs that it is going on. Though rare, it happens. We, as parents, should know about it, and fear it. This is especially relevant as summer is near. The time of pool parties, and swimsuits eagerly is ahead of us.

Fear be damned, today is another day.

But, as I said, I cannot shake the ghost. As a result, I fight to get sleep. While I lay there, exhausted, I see those moments over and over. Almost as soon as I close my eyes, I am taken back. I watch it playing from a birds eye view. I consequently rip myself apart. How did I let myself get so far away? It does not seem like it was that far. It is because of this that I will fight to be a better dad. But, since I know myself well enough, I will also never cease chastising myself for not getting there sooner.

Most of all, I will never cease being thankful for my brother jumping in. My brother is a hero. Seconds matter, and in those seconds, he jumped in.  Nicholas, if you read this, know that I love you, and that I owe you. I will never thank you enough for jumping in to help my little boy. You said it was no big deal because I would have done the same, and I agree with you. But it is a big deal, to me. Thank you Nicholas, a thousand times, thank you.

Later that day, when I was talking to David about what had happened, and that I was scared, I could see that he was too. When I told him that I loved him, he looked at me. His beautiful eyes filled with love and he replied,

“I love pizza”.

Finally, all was right with the world.

Live big, love bigger, and be kind, always.

Find Solid Ground: Why it is important to keep looking up.

“Keep your eyes on the stars, and your feet on the ground.” – Theodore Roosevelt

In my short time parenting and even longer time on earth these words have a complex meaning. They are so complex that we can either draw power from it, or be broken by them. Ultimately the decision is ours, but deep in the ground, the foundation for this decision has been laid by the generations that have come before us.

We have had the joy of experiencing life with a five year old for just over a week now. It is interesting how, almost overnight, she has grown so much more independent. Zoey has long been a little helper. Ever since her feet hit the ground she has been helping load the dishwasher. That is, when she is not running, climbing, dancing, or doing summersaults. But there is something magical about turning five, and we are experiencing more and more of it each day.

When Zoey was born, we did not even know what five would look like. We heard the word Craniosynostosis, and our idea of time, and its general movement was wrenched to a stop. Like a Hollywood movie the film on the reel that we had planned snapped, and spun around. Facing countless surgeries, time in the hospital, and therapists, I just felt my heart break.

Ground and feet

All that I have ever wanted for my children, is for them to be kids. To experience life running barefoot in the grass in the summertime. Dancing in sprinklers while eating homemade ice-cream. Building snow forts and having epic wars. The more time that we spent in the NICU, the more that all of this felt like a dream.  Much like a dream, I felt it slipping through my fingers as I fought to wake up. Then, a moment came that would change everything.

After spending 12 mornings and 11 long nights in the NICU, surround by amazing doctors and nurses, we were finally getting ready to go home. We had been trained on the things that we needed to know in order to take care of Zoey.  Most notably how to insert the 12 inch long nasogastric tube into the nostril of our wriggly and strong newborn, push it down into her stomach, and tape it to her. All so she could eat. I did not sleep that night.  I spent the whole night scared out of my mind, and packing what things I could.

Ground view of Zoey's feet

After many, many trips to our tiny car, taking all that could be spared, it was time. We stood in the doorway, waiting for rounds. This wait felt like it took forever. Suddenly, the curtain was pulled back, and we saw so many familiar faces. Those whom had helped us get started on this journey.  But, there was one that I did not recognize, a new attending. We listened to the briefing, most of which we were all too accustomed too by now. Our hearts began beating faster, and then came to a stop.  The new doctor commented, that “It looks like Zoey did not gain any weight as expected, let’s give it another day”.

In that very moment, such a level of brokenness filled me that I could feel my heart ache. But, there was something deep inside of me that rushed against the tide, aching to burst forth.  As the doctor turned to walk away, my wife began to sob next to me.

I stepped forward, my shoes resonating with military precision upon the ground.

“No.”

This little word shuttered through the crowed of trained professionals like a lightning bolt. They abruptly stopped, straighten up, and turned, wide-eyed. Fumbling though the chart in his hand the doctor looked up in astonishment.  “Mr., um, Von Bank, is there a problem”?

The pompous, indecisive tone that the doctor had brought whatever was inside out, full force. In a deep, calm, resonate tone I replied.

“Sir, I do not know you, and you have never even met my daughter. However, for the last 11 nights I have been here. There are nurses standing all around you that can attest that I have been here and helped with every feeding, and diaper change, that has taken place. My wife and I have been trained by some of these amazing nurses in the extra care that our daughter will need to go home. However, I think that you missed something. Last night, for the first time, there was a change in plans. Something happened and the nurse was called away. Upon her arrival Zoey had already filled her diaper, and was miserable. We elected to change and weigh her before feeding her as we have every night before. Zoey was so happy that she ate more than ever after being weighed. I ask that you take another look at her chart, then look at her.  We will not be staying another day”.

Defiantly, I stood my ground and awaited his reply.

I watched as he fumbled some more with her chart. I could see that he was containing rage, and embarrassment. After a short few seconds, I could see that he found the notes. Defeated, he looked up and said “Mr. Von Bank, you are correct. My apologies. Nurses, please prep Zoey for discharge this afternoon”. He hurriedly turned to walk ways, as I stood there vindicated. Zoey’s chief nurse, the one that had been with her almost the entire time, winked at me with tear filled eyes. She mouthed the words “Good Job” as the troupe walked away to the next room.

That was the moment that it all changed.  I embraced the title of Cranio Dad, but more importantly Zoey’s Dad. I became a voice for the voiceless.

Five years ago today, at this very moment, I stood firmly on the ground. I spoke for the dreams that I had for my daughter, and the hopes that I had for myself as a dad. With my feet planted, holding my daughter, I looked to the stars, and found a way to steal them from the sky. To this day, five long years later, I have never stopped.

Live big, love bigger, and be kind, always.

Watercolors: Testing Affiliate Links for Amazon

It is that time of year, fun arts and crafts with the kiddos! Recently we have been letting the kids experiment with watercolors, and it has been awesome. Melissa and Doug have been staples in our home ever since Zoey was a year old. The quality of the products that they produce is outstanding.  After all, they have been able to stand up to the overzealous play that my kids are known for.

Here is something that we have been using with Zoey and David as of late… and they love it. It seems weird to be posting about watercolors. Seriously, you can get these things for a dime a dozen. However, there is just something about these watercolors that make them stand out above all others. The fact that both our 5 year old (still not used to that) and our 3 year old love painting with them should say a lot. I think that more is said by the fact that these watercolor sets put up with our 5 and 3 year old.

Watercolor Painting

This link for the Melissa & Dough Paint With Water Activity Books Set: Farm, Ocean, and Safari are the ones that the kids are digging the most. The link is an affiliate link.  This means that if you purchase the item using the link, that Amazon will take a portion of your payment and send it to us to help us continue to grow this channel. Though this sounds like a rave review for these watercolors, it is not a paid endorsement. It is merely a chance for us to test our Amazon affiliate links. It is also a chance to share something awesome that we use with our kids.

More than watercolors.

Care to share some of the awesomeness that you have found to do with your kids? What awesome crafts have you found for your kids to do?

This started as a chance for me to test an affiliate link, and turned into a post…. #bloggerproblems

Live big, love bigger, and be kind, always.

Dear Zoey: A Long Overdue Letter For Your Birthday

My Darling Zoey,

This is a long overdue letter for you about the event of you turning five.  Please look past the few days that have past. You know, all too well, that things have been busy at home.

My little bit, I cannot believe that this day is here.

Time has flown faster than the speed of light since the moment you were born. There is a strangeness in this time.  For as fast as it has gone, I remember so much. Going back to the moment that you were born. Seeing you, this little, beautiful bundle of joy, and hearing your first cry. There was the long walk down to the NICU which felt like a lifetime in the moment, and a lifetime ago all at once. I often look back at this photo and feel my eyes begin to fill with tears.

Zoey in the NICU

I see you, my beautiful princess. Your smile, your little hand wrapped tightly around my finger. You had every reason to be angry in those days, hooked up to machines, getting poked, prodded, scanned and tested. Instead, you were happy. On your very first day with us you showed us how strong you are, and how joy can conquer every situation. We bonded. Instantly. Like a brilliant supernova cascading a radiant glow across the universe, you brought love forward.

Over the last five years we have sat through countless surgeries. I have seen this room more times than any should, knowing that once is more than enough for most. But each and every time, when you are done and back in my arms, you are at peace. We have laughed and watched countless movies while in in the PICU. I have told you fantastic stories to help you take your mind off the pain that you have felt.  All in some effort to cry out and take the pain from you, onto me.  You know that I would do this for you, if I could. But I know that you do not need me to. It is humbling to be your dad. To know that you can handle all that you are facing, with joyous grace.

Zoey and Jacob

As these years have passed you have become the ever doting big sister to two little brothers. The love and compassion that you have for them is visible to all who meet you. Just like the love that they have for you can be seen in their smiles.  You have loved the idea of being a big sister, and you take this title seriously. Far more so than I thought you would, and it makes me so proud.

Zoey and David

That is the thing that is the most important for you to know Zoey.

You make me so damn proud. In all that you do, with all that you have been through, and all that you are going through, you are resilient. You are one to follow your heart, but you listen to your brilliant mind along the way. You are beautiful. My sweet daughter, I will never grow tired of reminding you of how beautiful you are.

It is going to be an amazing adventure to watch you as you continue to grow, to see the woman that you will become. I do think that we get glimpses into this future you from time to time. But today, you are five. An age filled with exploration, learning, and fun. Just do not grow up so fast my little one. I will continue to do all I can to let you be a kid. To fight on your behalf. Using my deep and resounding voice to speak up for you. All while you hold onto my finger the same way you did when you were but a day old.

Zoey and her nails

Happy Birthday my sweet Zoey. May you continue to live big, love bigger and be kind, always.

Love,

Dad

Space: An adventure through little eyes.

The other night, we did something awesome.  We took our kids, to space!

For some time we have been all too aware of our children’s love for all things space. I can say that the rekindling of our childhood, for Kati and I, has not helped the matter. We have long felt that we would always embrace our children’s desires to learn.  Space, the final frontier. The wonder filled awesomeness that captures the hearts and minds of so many children.  Those that are lucky, this wonderment carries on into their adulthood.

My kids are in love with space. My three year old son can name all NINE (that’s right… #plutosnotforgotten) planets, in order. You can catch both David and Zoey outside, at night, just looking up at the stars. If the moon is out, it lights the smiles on their faces as they point and shout “MOON!” much to the chagrin of our neighbors.

So, the other night, we wanted to take our kids to space.

We rearranged the living room, brought out the projector that I use for Dungeons and Dragons, and set up for awesomeness. I searched for hours for something that was worthy of my kids. Something that would bring the similes and shouts long into the night. You might be surprised to find all the things related to space that exist out there. But, I wanted an adventure. I wanted my kids to experience space, the thing that the love so dear.

Secretly, my goal is to prepare them both for a trip to a planetarium.  I want to ensure that we do not get asked to leave within the first few minutes of the show starting. For me, there is nothing sweeter then the excited shouts of my kids with things that they love. It shows their desire to learn. Others, you know, adults, may not be as fond of it. After all, in an enclosed space (like a planetarium) their voices would surely echo.

But as I was saying, we rearranged the room. We prepared to launch our children into space, on the largest screen we could manage.

I settled on the first episode of Cosmos.

Cosmos: Space, it's whats for dinner.

I went with the Neil deGrasse Tyson reboot, purely for the visualizations for my kids. Trust me, as they grow older, there will be time for the original.  One cannot simply look at space and not think of Carl Sagan. For the next 90 minutes, they were glued. There were shouts of joy, and questions being asked. Both David and Zoey were fighting sleep by the end. They were sad to go to bed. However, there is something awesome about hearing your kids, in there room, singing the planet song. Even though they should be sleeping.

I cannot wait to surprise them with this again.

Ladies and gentlemen.  I took my kids to space… and it was awesome.

Live big, love bigger, and be kind, always.

Thoughts on the movie Gifted: A spoiler free review.

As a point of clarity, I was not asked to write this review in exchange for the tickets to pre-screen Gifted.  I am writing this for you, because it matters.

Last night I was offered an opportunity to pre-screen the movie Gifted. In true form, my beloved bride and I turned this into a date night.  Things have been crazy for the last few months, so we made the best of it. We both got dressed up, had a babysitter lined up (thanks Mom) and headed out. Leaving our three kids under the age of five behind, we entered into the night.

It is an interesting thing that happens when parents get some time without the kids.  We talked about our little ones, and how things were going. We stopped by and grabbed a bite to eat.  One thing that was noticed was that there was a frequency of checking our phones.  No, not checking Facebook, Twitter or the like.  But making sure that we did not miss a text asking us to come home.

As the sun was setting we parked in the theater. We made our way in, and found seats.  We had watched the trailer a few times, and were equally excited to watch the movie. However, we were a little unsure as to what was to come. From the moment that the movie started, this capriciousness subsided.

From the moment that the movie started, we were hooked.  The characters were equally engaging and understanding. We found that we were able to identify with both the protagonist and the antagonist, throughout the film.  What unfolded before us was a beautiful story.  Much like picking up a good book, we were engrossed.  We were invested in the plot. Again, like a good book, with each turning of the page something awesome was revealed.

Yes, there were tears. In fact, there were points that everyone was in tears. Parts of this story strike deep into the visceral component of parenting, of love, of trust.  But, these sullen tears were balanced with amazing storytelling as well as fantastic, jovial, laughter. Time did not matter for this movie. From the opening screen to the rolling credits, everyone was hooked. There was not a single moment where we felt the actions on the screen were filler, everything mattered.

Gifted Movie Picture
Mckenna Grace as “Mary Adler” and Chris Evans as “Frank Adler” in the film GIFTED. Photo by Wilson Webb. © 2017 Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation All Rights Reserved.

As the movie ended, and the audience departed, we silently walked to our car. We made our way home, discussing the movie and what it made us FEEL.  We realized that if this were a book, it would make sense to have been written by the seven year old.  But not in a bad way. In a way that resembles the way children tell stories. Depicting the events as they unfold, starting with the big stuff, and then giving the backstory… because the backstory matters.

We made it home, took a deep breath, and walked in the door. The baby was fed, and I hugged the two little sleeping toddlers, kissing their foreheads and telling them that I loved them.

What are my final thoughts on the movie Gifted? What can I say, without spoiling it for all of you?

It is simply this.

If you are a parent, go see Gifted.

If you are an aunt or uncle, go see Gifted.

If you are a teenager, and cannot understand what your parents are doing, and think that you could do things better, go see Gifted.

If you are a grandparent, cousin, person, go see Gifted.

Gifted is now, nearly, at the top of my list for movies. The acting was amazing. The story will not leave you for want, but is full of emotional depth that grabs at your heart, and soul. We are planning on buying it the moment that we can.  Perhaps there will be another date night in our near future.  If there is, you can almost bet that we will be watching Gifted, again.

Live big, love bigger and be kind, always.

The Importance of Video for our Children

We live in a state where technology surrounds us.  It is a part of all that we do. Quicker access to take pictures, and video, of our daily lives seem trivial to some.  But, as we are getting back into the swing of things, this state is not lost on me. In fact, I noticed something last night that made me pause. Something awesome.

In the middle of archiving a video that we shot a few weeks ago, I decided to watch it. Normally, I do not do this. I just drag it to the archive, wait for the prompt to finish and move on. But, I double clicked, and it played. Having some time, I decided to sit back and watch the video play.  I listened as my beloved narrated the scene, and watched as Zoey and David played.  Their laughter filled my ears.  I listened as Zoey ‘spoke’ with David about the tower they were building. Upon hearing this, I was startled. I sat up and rewound it. Playing it over and over again. With each repeat of Zoey’s ‘speech’ a smile broadened upon my face.
Zoey building a tower for the videoDavid getting ready for a video about building a tower

Why did Zoey’s ‘speech’ on the video cause me to pause?

I reference Zoey’s speech abilities with quotes here because, well. Let’s talk about that for a second. Due to the structural issues that Zoey was born with, due to her Craniosynostosis, things like eating and speech have never come easy to her. We have been thankful that David, since very early on, seems to be able to understand her, perhaps even better than we do.

But that is the thing. Kati and I can often understand what Zoey is trying to say. We live in this world where many around us look to us with a perplexed smile as they wait for us to decipher.  We roll with it. But, we often lose sight of the advancement she is making.  Watching this video, I realized that in just the last few weeks some astonishing advancements have been made.

It caused me to reflect to the other night.  After cleaning up the dishes from dinner, I handed Zoey a bowl of ice cream. As I stepped away from the table a sweet sound came from behind me.  My daughter saying, clear as day, “thank you daddy”.

Why the video we take is important to us?

The videos that we are capturing are not for vanity. They are to show us the steps that our children are taking. They are moments in time, forever captured, to show where they are.  Down the line, we can reflect at where they have been, and see the huge strides they have made along the way. These videos are the archive of our successes, and failures, as we teach our children how to…

Live big, love bigger, and be kind, always.

Updates, Updates, SOOOOOO many Updates

We are STILL getting caught up on everything.  It does not help that we are at the busiest part of the year.

We have started the slew of birthdays for our extended family.  We average one a week for the next two months. Seriously.

There is also the garden, that is starting to come along nicely.

Plus there is the general building, fixing, creating, making, that we all do.

I also have some projects that should be starting soon, and I still need to share my most recent.

 

Life, all-in-all, is awesome! We are not complaining, but we hope to get back to all the things soon.

 

Thanks for hanging in there and helping us…

 

Live big, love bigger and be kind, always.