Multiple Myeloma

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Control?

January 30, 2011 | 2 comments

Recently, we celebrated Squirts’ fifth birthday. Could that be right? His fifth birthday? There are many days I don’t feel old enough to have a five-year-old son. Of course, most days I’m reminded (by either my body or my wife) that I’m easily old enough to have a 20-year-old son, to say nothing of a five-year-old. But that’s another story.

We kicked off what has become an annual weeklong celebration by telling Squirts he could choose to eat anywhere he’d like on his actual birthday. The week then followed with cupcakes at school, a bowling party with friends, and a family party with his Aunt K who shares a birthday the same month. By the time it’s all over, it feels like we should start prepping for his sixth!

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There Are No Ifs

September 12, 2010 | 3 comments

This summer, Squirts, DeDe and I had the opportunity to join our church junior high group at a swim night during their summer mission trip. We found ourselves at a small Southwest Texas community pool situated next to a mobile home park featuring a sign that read, “All trailer park children under 12 must be supervised.”

Needless to say, we wanted to fit in so we tried to keep all of our children supervised as well.

As we entered the pool area, Squirts eyes lit up at what must have been the tallest diving board he’d ever seen. I estimate the board to have been nine or ten feet high. If you ask Squirts, “It was 13 or 14 feet. All the way to the sky!”

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Tomato, tomato

May 16, 2010 | 2 comments

Squirts is a pretty good eater. There aren’t many things he doesn’t like or won’t at least taste. We’ve been lucky in that way. Just don’t get in any hurry at meal time though, because he eats at one speed – slow.

But there is one food at which he consistently turns up his nose.

If he sees any chunky red things as his mom or I put salad on his plate, he always says, “Oooh, no to-may-toes for me! To-may-toes are gross!”

We reply, “Oh Squirts. Those aren’t to-may-toes, silly. Those are to-mah-toes.”

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Out of Control

May 2, 2010 | 6 comments

Nothing shatters the illusion of control like being a parent. It starts the moment that baby comes screaming into the world (at least for dad; for mom, the feeling might start some nine months earlier). We knew we were in for an adventure when the delivery nurse—a woman who had witnessed thousands of births—responded to Squirts’ noisy arrival by saying, “Well, isn’t he dramatic!” Let the fun begin!

From there, the appearance of control has continued to crumble:

  • You never really appreciate the simple ability to decide when to sleep, eat or use the facilities until your carefree life turns on a dime to an hourly schedule of all those things.
  • Shopping for a birthday gift at Target takes on a whole new meaning when you turn back to the cart just in time to see your two-year-old projectile vomiting into the basket.
  • Driving to church becomes directed by a map marked with every easy-in/easy-out restroom to avoid another commando Sunday.
  • The five minute trek across the amusement park to the Shamu show takes 25 minutes because there’s so much for a four-year-old to see. Daddy, look at that rock! Mommy, I found a stick! Hey, that guy is old!

And those are just a few of the moments from the first four years. I’m in denial about what the future holds.

Last summer, DeDe and I met some people who have their own unique perspective on the illusion of control when we traveled with her church praise team to Northern Ireland. Read the rest of this entry »

Bear