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Life Lessons from (Old Man) Football

i think as parents we all want to teach our kids important life lessons. We want to try and leave lasting impressions upon them. One thing I’ve learned in my short time as a parent is that many times the most important lessons are those taught through experience and that happen naturally.

I recently had an opportunity to do something that I think was pretty cool – to some it probably wasn’t that big of a deal. To others, It was probably down right stupid. I was able to play in an alumni football game – full pads, full contact, full speed. Well, as full speed as some of us old guys could muster up anyway.  I have to remind you I’m 37 years old! Crazy thing is, I wasn’t the oldest one out there.  Now I heard every excuse from classmates there is – and I won’t out anybody about their reasons for not playing. Some were down right comical; some did seem legit.

Regret.

i knew if I had not at least tried to play in that game I would have regretted it probably for the rest of my life. This is where the lesson for my girls and soon to be boy comes in. I don’t want them to look at things and not do them just because they may be too hard only to regret it later.  Now granted, I was no super star out there on the football field that night, but I took the opportunity that was given to me and enjoyed every minute of it. I had fun. My family and friends got to see me play football – my wife and kids for the first time. I hope they can look back on their crazy old dad playing in the mud that night and be inspired to do something big one day too!

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Simple Question, Not Simple Answer

The other day Maddy and I were going through our normal routine getting ready for school.  She mentioned something about me being a little boy and I remembered having a picture on my facebook account so I pulled it up to show her.

Maddy being Maddy decided she wanted to look at the other pictures and ran across this old sonogram picture.  She looked up at me and asked such a simple question, but I didn’t have a simple answer for her.

“Who’s that baby, daddy? Who is that?”

At first, I thought it was one of hers I had used as my profile picture.  Then I noticed the date – 3/18/09.  This was one of the babies Liz miscarried. 

Her little eyes kept looking at the picture and looking at me, wanting to know.  I couldn’t answer her.  All I could say was it was some other baby.  I wanted to tell her.  I wanted to tell her everything.  I couldn’t fight back the tears either.

Liz and I have talked about having the conversation with the girls about the babies we’ve lost – mainly if we’d tell them.  There wasn’t much discussion there.  We’re pretty open about it so we want them to know.  Just today as I was giving Liz her heparin shot she asked, should we have been doing this in front of the girls?  I just looked at her and asked – would we have done it any other way?  They know momma needs the shot for the baby and both know she needed them when they were in her tummy too. I’m sure it’s a bit too much for a 3 year old and a 2 year old to comprehend as would a conversation about a baby we don’t have at home with us, but it’s us I guess you could say.  One day we’ll tell them about the other babies.

I’m sure some people think that is strange.  I’m sure some may think it even strange to still have that strong of an attachment – I’m not sure I realized it until she asked that morning.  For me anyway, those loses will always be a part of us.  Sure, we’ve moved on, but as odd as it may sound our girls and baby on the way are a reminder of them.  Had it not been for those losses, they wouldn’t be here.

Hopefully, the next time she happens to run across a random sonogram picture I’ll be prepared with an answer.  Or maybe I won’t.  Maybe we’ll just sit and cry together.

 

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“Am I Enough?”

Awesome post. Not much that I can add – I think it’s all there!  I can’t speak for my wife, but I’m sure there were/are many days she has thought this way.

Barren to Beautiful

This week my husband walks in the door after a long day at work to find: dishes piled in the sink, laundry all over the living room, the beef for dinner still in a frozen block, and me…looking like Frump Queen. He is gracious. And tells me to take a nap. I instantly obey. (Inwardly rejoicing.) And while I am sleeping for 45 minutes, he manages to clean the whole house…while watching our daughter. (A feat I clearly was incapable of accomplishing today. Many days.)

One part of my feels grateful the house is clean. I can relax now, right? But the other (bigger) part of me feels guilty and defeated. He just worked the whole day at his job, and then came home and did mine, too. Isn’t this why I am staying home? 

Every day I have this desire to accomplish something. But every day it feels I accomplish nothing. I…

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