To My Second Born on His Fourth Birthday

To My Second Born on His Fourth Birthday

I remember your mom texted me while she was at work the day you were born. She’s a labor and delivery nurse, of course, and she was working in the hospital where you were to be delivered, so I guess if she had to be working when she went into labor that was the best possible place to be, but still, it was pleasantly quirky and remains a fun story that I sometimes think about telling people when I’m mingling at my numerous imaginary social gatherings.

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To My Little Girl on Her First Birthday

To My Little Girl on Her First Birthday

Wow. Time has flown, hasn’t it? It’s hard to believe that it’s already been a year since you joined our family. Just kidding! When you have three kids under six, every day can feel like a lifetime. I believe you’ve met your brothers, no? Right, yes. The ones that make a lot of noise. Like all the time. So yeah, you totally understand where I’m coming from.

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The Rocking Chair

The Rocking Chair

Our middle child, Bennett, is turning three this week and I’ve been thinking a lot about the rocking chair in his bedroom. We got it from a friend a few years ago and though it was like new at the time, it is starting to show its age. The fabric is worn in some spots and it has plenty of stains, but, most importantly, it holds a lot of memories.

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PRO/CON: Participating in this Ridiculous Charade of Smashing a Cake at My First Birthday Party

PRO/CON: Participating in this Ridiculous Charade of Smashing a Cake at My First Birthday Party

Pro: This cupcake icing appears to be sufficiently garish in color to stain my face, hands, and entire body neon blue for at least three weeks.

Con: I might have to take a bath later.

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Reflections on Life and Performance Art on the First Anniversary of My Birth

Reflections on Life and Performance Art on the First Anniversary of My Birth

I feel like my whole life has been but a rehearsal for this moment. All those hours spent toiling in solitude–well, as much solitude as a guy can get when there’s always a giant person chasing you around and interrupting your process–are about to pay off. It is finally my time to shine.

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To My First Born on His Fourth Birthday

To My First Born on His Fourth Birthday

You’re four years old now, so I think it’s time I finally leveled with you. I don’t really remember that much from the first year or two of your existence. To be totally honest, I feel like at any given moment I have a decent handle on the last two or three weeks, but anything beyond that is a bit of a crap shoot. It seems like all the new stuff just crowds out the old stuff. I know you so well right now, but I can hardly remember what you sounded like when you were two. It’s best that you learn this now, because barring the advent of an age-reversing revolution that I’m still hoping is just around the corner, this will likely only get worse for me.

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Link-apalooza #4

What did we learn last week? To a 3-year old, adult birthdays are a huge disappointment. Jacob was quite depressed that there were no balloons or big presents or bounce houses or even piñatas. I can’t blame him, really. He pretty much caught a glimpse of his future and it made him say, “No thanks. I’ll keep my balloons.” In an attempt to cheer him up, we took him for putt-putt to celebrate because that’s what adults really do on their birthdays. Well, at least that’s what Explorations does (not the blog, the puppet master behind the curtain). 

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#BigBen Strikes One

Few things in life are quite as ridiculous as birthday parties for 1-year-olds. Think about it. Besides weddings, where else is a central protagonist of a celebratory event more irrelevant or overlooked? Nowhere. Grooms and 1-year-olds, that’s the list.

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#BigBenRising

With our little guy’s first birthday fast approaching, I figured it was about time to shout him out on the old blog. Being the younger sibling can be hard; it’s definitely difficult to claim your fair share of the spotlight when yourolder brother often writes, directs, and stars in the screenplay that is our life.

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