Sometimes the algorithms work for good reasons

After posting my blog about travelling (nod to the UK, here in the US we say traveling), I knew that the algorithms would being working.  In that time my searches have been interlaced with sprinkles about traveling. Weekend rates for a rental car, discounted airfare to Ireland, sign up for a Disney Cruise, and more. All of these and more are the algorithms at work. For some, this is frustrating, and I understand that. I mean, really, what does a trip to see the largest ball of twine in Cawker City, Kansas, have to do with nonlinear optimization in r? Not that there is anything wrong with a big ball of twine. You do you Kansas, I think it’s cool.

This morning, while quietly shifting through the deluge of emails that one’s receives, I came across this quote while researching a question for work: “The traveler sees what he sees, the tourist sees what he has come to see”, the algorithms are working.  With a lighting flash my memory zoomed past the blog post that I wrote yesterday. It focused purely on the source of this quote.

In what seems like forever ago, while in high school, I did a fair measure of extra reading. By choice of random selection in the library, I read through “Tremendous Trifles” by G.K. Chesterton. It is within this tome that sketch called “The Riddle of the Ivy” resides, and quotes from it ring true to this day.  Instantly, the quote took me to this sketch, and then deeper into my more favored quote from the piece: “The whole object of travel is not to set foot on foreign land; it is to set foot on one’s own country as a foreign land”. I sat back and reveled in the memory of the quote, of the time, and looked at the application for it in my own life today.

Is that how the algorithms are to work?

Most likely not. My guess is that while the algorithms are running, they should be driving me to the aforementioned ads for purchase. They should not taking me back nearly 20 years. To a time when I was planning for the future that I am now living. Is it the bane of society and advancement that such things are lost? The things that drive us deep into the annals of our minds to remind us of what we once wanted to do seem to be more and more silent. Perhaps we have laid waste to the algorithmic master, our own minds, in favor of those on the internet.

If that is the case, the algorithms may show me the ways to do what I hope. To travel with my children. To experience this country as a foreign land, for the second and third times. Seeing what we see, not what others go to see.  All in an effort to…

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

Travelling: Becoming a Storyteller

Travelling. Once a great mainstay, and a measure of a person, seems to come and go with the ages. Every few months a map makes its cycle around my little sphere of social media.  You all know the one, with the states where people have visited highlighted. It is funny for me to see some of the reactions, comments, excuses and proclamations that accompany these maps. Perhaps it is because, well, to be frank, my map was completed nearly a decade ago.

Travelling provides a chance to see life in ways no others have.

Ibn Battuta once said “Travelling. It makes you speechless, then turns you into a storyteller”. I have done my best to become quite the storyteller. I flex my lexicon to paint the beauty of a sunrise over the Atlantic. The sweeping colors pouring into view over an expansive, white capped, sea. I pull on the heartstrings as I capture the stillness of a single tear fall from the cheek of a parent in a waiting room. I bring the undeniable smile when expressing the joy of being smothered in the kisses of my children. All of this in an effort to give you an opportunity to travel. To close your eyes, sit in the stillness, and picture the scene I have laid before you.

A new thought on travelling for me.

But, those silly maps, the ones that cause me to chuckle have sparked an idea. What if, I were to complete the map with my children before they become adults? Would they enjoy travelling? I am sure that they would. More so, they would enjoy the stories that I would tell about some of my favorite places, while we are there. They may be inspired when we stop in a field and lay there on the grass. To look up at the clouds in the sky in wonder. To explain to them that this is but a starting place, and it is about the journey.

So, the days, and years, ahead I will be overjoyed to expand my stories as we travel. However, I feel that the real excitement will be in watching the new generation of storytellers. Watching them take in all that they can from our travelling journeys. Listening as they become speechless, and begin painting pictures with their words.

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

Cranio Dad says #ThanksBaby for making me a dad.

Disclosure: I have partnered with Life of Dad and Pampers for this promotion.

This weekend is an amazing one. Father’s Day is a chance to celebrate dads, and all that they do in our lives. But this year I am looking at this day a little differently. Yes, there will still be the accolades for my amazing dad.  But Pampers is giving thanks to babies for making Dad feel exceptionally special; for empowering dads to discover new roles in life through fatherhood.  While I am forever thankful for each of our growing children (Zoey, David, and Jacob), my role as ‘Dad’ started when Zoey was born.

After a crazy labor and delivery, there was a ton of worry. Zoey was rushed to the NICU. The picture-perfect story about entering fatherhood was squelched with worried whispers from the staff. “What are we going to tell the parents?” is something one NEVER wants to overhear.

I remember, and still hold close, the very first time that I saw my daughter in the NICU. As I quietly pulled back the curtain, I saw before me a dark room and a little tiny bed. That bed had a light that shined with a radiance that hurt my eyes. Bathed in the warm, glowing light was my little girl, my Zoey. The one of whom I had prayed for, sung to, and talked with through my beloved bride’s growing belly. On shaking legs, I walked over to her bedside; tears streaming down my face. A quite voice from the corner of the room said “Dad, you can touch her, she is ok.” With tear-filled eyes I looked at the nurse that I had not noticed before. Her calm, penitent smile met me as her hands beckoned to the bed.

My hands were trembling as I reached out and placed my hand next to her. Choking back the tears, I said the words that I had been waiting nine months to say. “Hey Zoey, it’s me, Daddy.” At the sound of my voice, she stirred. I watched as her little body moved, and her tiny, tiny hand reached up. Her hand found my finger, and she grabbed on.

Dad and Zoey

This was the moment that I realized my entrance into the role of fatherhood. I knew that I would climb mountains for her. As her little hand grasped tightly onto my finger, I knew that just as she was born, this dad was born as well.

How Cranio Dad feels about Pampers.

For more than 50 years, moms and dads have trusted Pampers to care for their babies. Meanwhile, over the last five years, our family has come to understand Craniosynostosis. We have also learned about the challenges for a child with an imperforate anus. On Day One Zoey was in Pampers. We have tried others, but, honestly, no others work for her. Weather it be dealing with blow-outs, or looking for some comfort after a surgery, Pampers have always been there. Because of how well they worked for Zoey, we knew they were our choice. They are a staple in our home as all three kids wear them.

Pampers has released a new #ThanksBaby video that captures the amazing relationship that is created between a dad and his baby when a baby is born.  I love how this video makes me smile.

I am so happy that Pampers is helping to make this Father’s Day, and every day, special by honoring dads; for thanking dads for all the amazing things that we do, big and small, to help our little ones.

Please join me by tweeting why you are most thankful for baby with the hashtag #ThanksBaby

This Father’s Day let’s do our best to live big, love bigger, and be kind, always.

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.

Exhaustion deep in the marrow of my bones

I am tired. I can feel the exhaustion deep in the marrow of my bones. With a heaviness I move through each step, continuing to drive on.  I watch the time pass by, like the flutter of a dragonfly’s wings. With the rising sun I draw in a breath. I open my eyes as the warm summer morning light bathes me. Forward, I continue. My drive is ceaseless and resilient. One more day has ended, and another one is here.  Just another day beginning in my life. What will I uncover, achieve, learn, or find today? That question is the one that greets me, and I always strive to answer.

For years it has kind of been my thing; burning the candle on all ends. I seem to have an innate talent for finding more ends of said candle that many did not even know existed. Normally I can find some respite in completing a project, or finding some down time with the family. As of late, that has not been the case. I see an endless list of things to do, looming deadlines, and the intense desire to ‘find time’ with my family.

You know it is bad when your Fitbit tells you that you need to get sleep. I guess that a declining average that hovers around three hours and fifteen minutes of interrupted sleep starts to wear on you. The excuse that I keep giving myself is that “This is fatherhood”. This is the marrow, the meat, of all that we do as dads.  In a seemingly thankless spiral of activity we fix things, we clean things, we do yard work, we spend time, we make time, we give up time. All for the chance of a smile from a child. For the late night, sleepy “I love you daddy” that calls to us from a sea of pillows and blankets. For the tight, reassuring squeezes when we rush into a room to fend off the nightmare monsters. We expend ourselves to the fullest, for those that matter the most.

Today, as I settled in for a long day of meetings, something different occurred. I pulled out my wallet, and saw a piece of paper sticking out. I am not a keeper of receipts, so this struck me as odd. As I pulled it out of my wallet, I could tell that it was the paper that we usually use for our shopping list. However, I could not remember leaving one in my wallet. What I did not know, what I could not know, was what this piece of paper was going to do to me. On this piece of paper was a note from my beloved bride.

The words reached deep into the marrow of my aching bones.

My wife has been my best friend from almost the moment that we met. It has been an honor to be the one that she can lean on when needed. It is also a show of her force as a person that she can be the one that I lean on when I need to. But, this little note, her love filled words, reached deep into the marrow of those same aching bones. She wanted to let me know that she sees me. That she sees all that I am doing, and that she loves me for it.

Marrow warming note

 

I read the note two or three times, reached into my desk, pulled out a pin, and pinned it to my wall. I want it to serve as a constant reminder, each day. A reminder that the woman that I love more than anyone on this planet is always there. That she loves me. That she wants me to stop and smell the roses from time to time. A reminder, above all others, of something that I seemed to have forgotten.  That when the marrow screams for relief, I should provide it. Just because I believe that this is the only way to live, does not mean that it truly is.

So, today, as I awoke and asked myself that question, I thought of a new answer. What will I uncover, achieve, learn or find today? To paraphrase Thoreau in “Walden”, today, I will learn to live deep, and suck the marrow out of life. I will find a way to remove the exhaustion, and allow my steps to be lighter.

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

P.S. I found another note in my wallet today. I am forever reminded how lucky that I am. My beloved is amazing, and I could not do all that I do without her.

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.

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.

Parenting has turned me into a Machiavellian Masochist.

As dawn broke over the cool spring morning the sound of my alarm resounded with its sharp, trill, beeping. I looked at the clock.  Why? Because, it is what we all do. We set alarms for a specific time. When they go off we still look at the clock, mostly in disbelief that this moment has arrived. As I prepared for the day, reflecting on the night before, as well as the weeks that have passed, this deep realization came to me.  Parenting has turned me into a Machiavellian Masochist. I had not even had my first cup of coffee yet.

Right out to the gate, you should know better by now that I am looking at rather obscure meanings for those words. As a story teller, I also find it better not to merely define these words. To proof the statement based on definition alone ruins the ride. But, those are heavy words. Machiavellian Masochist. What in the world was my brain trying to tell me this morning?

For the last couple of weeks I have been going non-stop.  Perhaps there is the part of me that compensates for what I see as a failure.  Getting sick… for me (not for others) that is a failure. Being sick for three months, we are near the pinnacle of epic here. Regardless, I have been busy.  Tackling projects like making a bed for my daughter birthday (how do we have a five year old already?), preparing the garden, editing vlogs, and working on a book (yep, it is happening) have kept me going at a breakneck pace. According to my Fitbit, and a little math, I am averaging less than four hours of sleep a night. And I am feeling it. Every day.

But I am not doing these things for me. Sure, there is the creative and cathartic experience of taking wood, shaping it, putting it together, and seeing your creation come to fruition. This cannot be denied. But, that is not (purely) how I work. Since my daughter was born (HOW DO WE HAVE A FIVE YEAR OLD ALREADY?) I have pushed myself. I have pushed to be the dad that she deserves and needs, not the one that I was prepared to be.

A  Machiavellian Masochist Tackles All The Things.

Zoey's Bed

This bed, it was for her, for her birthday. I knew that it would be something that I could do for her. Something that would bring immense joy.  Seeing that joy would bring happiness to me, satisfaction in the work that I had done. And it did.

The garden. This is for my family. It is to help provide as well as to teach my kids how to grow their own food. After all, who does not like a little dirt and sunshine once in a while?  I know that as this year passes by that there will be a ton of teaching moments for my kids. Some will stick, others will not.

The vlog, and the book. These projects fall in the same vein. They are both for legacy. They are for people to see now, and for my children to have long after I am gone.

All of these things point to the kind of masochist that fatherhood has turned me into.  I enjoy doing all these things. Again, cathartic, joy, and legacy. But, they are exhausting. They are breaking me down, bit by bit. I can feel it most mornings, and think of more to do long into the night. Because of the joy that I feel.

This, my dear readers, is also what makes it so Machiavellian.

I know that these things are wearing me out. Heck, I am writing about it as we speak. Meanwhile, I think of more and more things that I can take on to achieve the same results. Therein lies the cunning that exists for me. As well as the duplicity. I mean, who would do such things to themselves? When given freedom, cannot one not take a break, rest, kick back and enjoy life a little?

I know that I am doing this to myself, to bring joy to others, to have joy because of their happiness, at the expense of myself. However I discount my own knowledge of this, refusing to accept it, because I know that one would not do something like this to themselves.

Parenting has turned me into a Machiavellian Masochist. Something tells me, I am not alone in this.

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.

Just when we think that Spring has finally sprung…

Things were looking up.  The sky has been a beautiful shade of blue. The clouds have been white and puffy like marshmallows dancing in the sky. We were able to open the windows and let in some fresh, warm air. Spring had arrived! The birds were chirping, the grass was growing, and all was right with the world.

Then I looked at the ‘spring’ weather today.

Just when you think spring has sprung

First I see that there is rain.  I pay that no mind, it comes with the season. Then I looked a little closer.  How is it getting COLDER? I understand that cold fronts move, and the jet stream does its thing.  But, we were looking great. Incremental climbs every day. We were a little over 70 yesterday, and now, what do I see.  50 degrees, followed by 40 degrees. Then there will be a quick jump back to 70! Followed by another round of declining temperatures.

Perhaps it is a result from being cooped up so long.  Between everyone being sick… forever, and the weather, we have been confined. Haphazardly glancing out the window and sighing, mostly out of remorseful disgust. Having three kids under the age of five, we need spring.  We need the puffy marshmallow-esque clouds and the blue skys to come. To be able to open our doors and let the kids run, carefree and barefoot in the sun warmed grass.

But, it is not meant to be spring, just yet. We will now keep looking to the days that will come. All in hopes that our home, and our sanity can outlast the final thralls of winter.  Do not get me wrong, I am an autumn/winter guy.  But as parents, running low on coffee and chocolate, we need spring. We need spring rather badly.

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