Monday, David started school. I HATE THIS! He is still my little boy, and he has grown up so much that it isn't funny. Meredith and the kids got in from Seattle late Sunday evening, so I was worried that the "Monday Morning Blues" would hit with atomic force when I woke everyone up at 6. I dressed the kids and got them ready, then woke Meredith up. Everything went off without a hitch and I was impressed. Amy Gabbard kept the other two (thanks for the help, Amy - we couldn't have done it without you) and Meredith took David in to start his career in education. As they walk up to the door, David turns and says "I'm a little nervous, Mom." It is a good thing that Meredith took him, because I would have scooped him up and took him home immediately. It broke my heart that he was going to be left in that big school building all alone to fend for himself. My kids are growing up, and it scares me.

When we had David, I didn't really even believe that we were pregnant until I saw him in the hospital. That sounds stupid, I know. I saw the physical changes and put together all of the baby stuff, but it didn't register psychologically until I heard that little faint cry in the operating room. It hit me like a semi-truck when I held him in my arms for the first time. I was a dad, my wife was a mom, and our whole future just intensified. For the first time in my life, I HAD to keep a job. We HAD to stabilize our present and plan for the future. It was overwhelming to say the least, but I look back on that day with a smile. All of the uncertainty and fear was overshadowed by the fact that I had someone that was the physical manifestation of love. As he took naps on my chest, that little boy's heart beat right along to the same tempo as mine. I had a family, and it felt very nice.

We have since had two more children, and each birth was spectacular in it's own way. Little Paige cried and cried in the nursery, and she only slept when everyone else was screaming at the top of their lungs. I still get choked up when I see the pictures of my tiny little princess. She is a little mom in training, and she loves her brothers so very much. My greatest joy is that she is the one that I can always count on an "I lub you daddy" from. The boys and I play rough. and they are very high octane. She almost always stops to climb up in my lap at least once and hug my neck when she is being chased by the other two. Brushing her hair and buying the little clothes in varying shades of pink are just a couple of the highlights of having her in my life. My little girl has me wrapped around her little finger, and I don't have any issues with that. In fact, I find that I fit perfectly.

Jonathan's birth was the last one, and it was sad for me because he was last. I realized that we were making the right decision, but it was still hard to know that I wouldn't hear the first "daddy" from anyone after him. He came home from Seattle saying "daddy" plain enough that I don't have to strain to hear it. When they got off of the plane at Longview, I could see his toothy smile from across the terminal. He was kicking his little legs and laughing while David pushed the stroller across the pavement outside of the terminal. May I tell you that the memory of that moment will stick in my mind for the rest of my life. Since then, the rough patches in my day definitely have an adversary in that little memory. Jonathan is the analytical thinker of the group, and he will be the one that pays for all of the empire (if he wants to.) He runs towards me, knowing that I will sweep him up and tickle him until he gasps for breath. I then put him down, and he runs to a safe distance, only to turn and repeat the same insanity once again. We do this for hours every night, and I cherish those moments so greatly. It brings me to tears to know that one day, he too will start kindergarten and the clock will start to click much faster.

I cannot comment about my kids without praising the one that is responsible for them, because she is what completes me (I apologize for the cheesy Jerry Maguire movie line.) I am consistently amazed by her strength and courage in every possible configuration of our life. Meredith has been my life-line since the day we met, and she is definitely my true love. Without her, nothing else would be worth anything to me. I crave her presence in every room that I am in, and my heart leaps for joy when she walks through the door. She is graceful in every moment, and she does not sway when the winds of emotion blow. She is the example that I want my kids to live up to. I count myself as the luckiest man in the world to have her by my side My love for her grows deeper every day.

All in all, my family is vital to my sanity (and sometimes to my insanity.) When they were away last week, nothing worked right. I couldn't eat, sleep, or even sit in my house without missing them. I felt all alone in a frightening place that I didn't want to be in. Family seems to do that to you.

As I re-read this post, I realize that I have to make one last comment. Family is needed, even if family has let you down in the past. If you don't have family, you may not understand the fullness of the impact that a well placed and meaningful "I love you" brings. If that is your case, I challenge you to explore the bible. Read the passages that tell of the love that God has for his children (John 3:16 is a good one to start with.) Realize that the "children" that God is talking about includes you as well.
























Sometimes you feel like the butterflies in your stomach have turned into fighter jets. You feel like the world is closing in around you, and you are running out of places to hide. When you look up and see that immense, ominous, unknown circumstance bearing down upon you, it's OK to say "I'm a little nervous." Family is the one that holds on to your hand a little tighter and helps you to get through it. "You're going to do fine, honey" has a way of sending all of that fear into hiding.