Dadalogue Deployed: Care package!

I think the excitement of getting a care package here in Afghanistan is similar to a 6-year-old on Christmas morning. 

There’s anticipation when you see that shipping box all taped up – don’t look at the customs form though, or you’ll ruin your own surprise – wondering what’s inside. You tear the tape off the top, not trying to save the box, just what’s inside. And then there’s the burst of joy when you see that you got exactly what you wanted.

I got my first care package from my wife and kids this week, and it was a happy day.

There was coffee of the Dunkin Donuts variety, a set of sheets, a nice pillow, a motorcycle magazine, and a card.

BUT …

There were a couple things even more special.

Grace and Timothy both made artwork for me. First, it was flower painting where their hands and feet were the buds and leaves. Grace’s didn’t have leaves because she wouldn’t put her feet in the paint. But she also did an abstract painting with a “We miss you Daddy” message included. Even the wife got into the art projects, sending me a page of a coloring book that she had colored herself.

The final item was one that will continue to grow while I’m out here. The wife started a scrapbook of everything happening back home with her and the kids. Every month, she’ll send a new page. The first one was photos of the kids playing with each other and doing their daily routine – Timothy learning how to crawl, and Abigail working on her best Rembrandt impersonation.  It’s great to watch them grow. I wish I was there to see it in person.

After going through everything in the box, my day, which wasn’t that bad to begin with, ended on a great note. The thoughtfulness and, well, care that went in to the care package I got is another example of how I feel like the most blessed man in the world.

Dadalogue deployed: Eating with the Afghans

Greetings from the other side of the world.

It’s been a good week, although the days seem to run together. I though Friday was Sunday, Saturday was Tuesday. What day it is doesn’t really matter though. Except Sundays. I get to sleep in a little bit and go to work a little later. Then there’s church in the evening. It’s Palm Sunday today, the start of the most holy week, so I’ll be extra sure not to miss it.

On this Palm Sunday I am thinking about my family too. Every year, on Palm Sunday or Easter, for the past 7 years or so, my grandmother has treated our family to a large lunch at this restaurant and Inn near my hometown.

To say the meals are delectable is an understatement. They are simply the best meals I’ve ever eaten. 

This year, I’ll miss the warm popovers with lemon curd and the special Sunday menu the chef 

prepares. Last year it was ostrich tenderloin for me. Other years I’ve had bison steak, duck, and lamb. The lobster bisque has chunks of meat floating in it. I’ve never forgotten a meal we’ve eaten there.

The building is an old historic landmark with fireplaces in every room. When we start going, it was only a handful of us: my grandmother (Mom Mom), my parents, sister, my aunt and uncle, and my great uncle. I’ve brought a friend before, a fellow Marine, and my sister brought a couple people from time to time too. But, the immediate family has certainly grown over the last several years.

My sister got married. Then the next year, her first born was there. Then I got married. Then we had a child. Then my sister had another baby. This year will be our 9-month-old Timothy’s first time. Next year, my sister will have another one. We’ve grown so much as a family, they have to give us a whole room to ourselves. It’s probably better that way too. We like to laugh.

I’ll miss it this year. It may be “Southern cooking day” at the chow hall today – which means some kind of boiled meat slathered in BBQ sauce – but it doesn’t hold a candle to the pheasant my wife says she’s going to have this year. Ohh, and crème brule. They have the best crème brule.

Of course, the time there isn’t just about amazing food. It’s about amazing time with family. The conversations and the time spent with them are just as memorable. I miss them all dearly, and my thoughts and prayers are with them constantly.

But, since this post has become more of a foodie blog today, I’m going to continue that trend to recap the highlight of my week: lunch with Afghans.

Every week at this forward operating base I’m now at we get to break bread with our Afghan National Army counterparts. They host the meal. And it’s authentic.

We walked over their compound where they escorted us into their chow hall – three long rows of benches with a huge spread on the tables. Each place setting had real silverware and plates (the chow hall is paper and plasticware). In the middle were silver platters piled high with spiced rice and baskets of fried potatoes. Little bowls of what I’m almost positive was goat meat were laid out for each person. And there was orange soda. Afghans seem to love their soft drinks.

That lunch was the best food I’ve eaten since getting here.

The conversation with our Afghans was a little difficult, having to speak through interpreters, but the non-verbal communication said it all. They love having us here. They are truly grateful for the attention and help we’re giving them. Yes, our cultures are completely different. Yes, we do things differently. But, there is a mutual connection of making this place better than it was 10 years ago.

The Afghans who serve are extremely patriotic and proud of what they do. They see their service, just like us who wear a U.S. uniform, as a privilege and an honor. Afghans are not bad people. The insurgents who fight us and torment the citizens of this country are. Most Afghans don’t want them around either. And many are proving that by wearing the military uniform of their country.

I’ve known this for a while. I don’t just read the news reports from mainstream media. I seek out the other news, and I see the other side of the story firsthand.

Don’t believe me? Come to Afghanistan and see for yourself.

And have a meal with them.

Whether it’s with family or with complete strangers – nothing unifies a group of people and creates wonderful memories quite like sitting down at a table full of food and eating together.

Deployed. The First Days and Prayer Runs

Well, Dadalogue is now deployed. A couple days down and many more to go.

Impressions so far?

This isn’t my grandfather’s war. Goodness, for one thing, I’m blogging on the Internet several hundred miles away from developed civilization. Not only that, but there’s coffee shops (yes, plural), a barber shop nicer than the one I go to in California, and post exchanges that have variety that rivals Wal-Mart. Well, that last one is an exaggeration, but still you must answer the question, “What flavor Pringles to you want?”

The two chow halls I’ve been to have variety, and most of it is pretty good so far. It’s not home cookin’, but it’ll do. Get this: Yesterday I made my own Panini for lunch. Crazy. A hot pressed roast beef and provolone cheese sandwich in a combat zone. The novelty supposedly wears off soon though. I am told that in a couple weeks I’ll be able to know what day it is based solely on the chow hall menu. Tuesdays, for example, are Bang Bang shrimp nights. Thursdays are Oriental nights. Every. Single. Week.

My initial reaction to this cushy lifestyle is guilt. Two reasons. First, there are servicemembers in this country eating tray rations and MREs (Meals-Ready-to-Eat) every day. They’re lucky to get one decent hot meal or shower once every few months. I’ve had three squares a day and hot showers since I’ve been here. Second, I almost feel as if I’m pulling a fast one on the American public. I think there’s this impression that the conditions here are worse than they really are for most of us. The excessiveness of stuff on this base is a bit embarrassing. Except for those who are beyond the confines of bases like the one I’m at, we have it – dare I say – too well.

On the other hand, maybe there’s a reason for it. It sure is nice to know that there are familiar comforts of home within walking distance. Taxpayer money doesn’t pay for it all which helps ease the guilty mind. And those who have the opportunity to come in briefly from the combat outposts deserve all of this and more.

The wife and kids seem to be doing well. I’ve been able to video chat with them a few times. Grace loves seeing me on Skype, shouting “Daddy!” almost the whole time we chat. I was able to watch as she said “draw kitty” and proceeded to go to her art easel to scribble a “kitty cat” on the butcher paper. I saw Timothy in his highchair, food all over his face, smiling from ear to ear and waving his arms when he saw me. It warms the heart to see those magnificent children God has blessed me and the Wife with.

Speaking for God, final thought – and it involves you:

As I was running today I was praying. That got me to thinking about all the people who are praying for me. The power of prayer is amazing (I’ve seen its effects firsthand too many times to count) and I know there are whole churches that have me on their prayer list (thanks to Grandma, Mom Mom, and our church families back in California and where we lived in Virginia for a while). Well, I want to pray for you too. Send me your requests through e-mail (dadalogue@gmail.com), and every morning I will go on what I’ll call a Prayer Run. I won’t stop running until I’ve brought all the requests before God. Pass the word. If I have to run a marathon every day, I will.

Yes, there’s all this cool stuff: creature comforts, good food, hot showers, but I can’t think of a better way to stay positive and close to home than praying for the people I love.

Finally with the family (for a bit)

Well, it's been a little bit since I've updated everyone on my goings-on. To summarize: it's been hectic.

Between virtual tea party Skype sessions and work, I packed up the rest of our house and had it hauled away to storage (thanks Pods!). Some wonderful friends helped with the big stuff, but packing all the little things - and there were plenty - plus a good cleaning of the house was left up to me. I turned the keys back over two Saturdays ago.

Leaving was a bit tough. We really were blessed with finding such a great place: a four-bedroom ranch 20 minutes from work in our budget. This was our first non-apartment dwelling as a married couple, something both of us really couldn't wait for. We brought Timothy home from the hospital to this house. Grace learned how to walk on the slippery faux hardwood floors. We had tons of memorable family visits in the short year and a half we were there. Thanksgiving was a blast, even though the turkey tried to murder me. I'm going to miss not being there.

I'm now visiting with my family prior to the deployment and trying to get the most out of every moment.

Ice cream for Grace (courtesy of GiGi)!

Funny thing about not seeing your kids for a month. The changes that normally seem so gradual over time smack you in the face. A month ago, Grace was communicating, but it was more with babble and hand gestures. Now, she's speaking more clearly, and in some cases, in complete sentences. She follows directions well and has a better grasp of her numbers, letters, and colors. I didn't really get to see this evolution, so it blew me away how grown up she seemed. Timothy wasn't sitting up. Now he is. He's waving, and starting to babble. He's rolling over like a champ. Crawling is in the near future. He seems more like a toddler to me than the baby I said goodbye to at the beginning of the year.

If that's one month, after twelve, I'll be coming home to completely different human beings!

All bundled up for a winter walk.

It's really been a lot of fun getting to do nothing but to hang out with my wife and kids. Grace has been pretty much glued to my side since I've been here, and I'm not complaining. We've read about 500 books. I've been served 800 cups of imaginary tea. And she's been bounced, twirled, flipped, and tossed a thousand times. Both kids have gotten a million kisses. I've savored every moment (even the ones in the middle of the night) that Timothy has slept in my arms. I realize these may be the last days of that for me. He'll be a full-fledged toddler before my return, and in my experience, toddlers do not sleep in their parents arms often.

However, I can honestly say I haven't dwelled on the negatives or the impending reality. I've been able to live in the moment which, I think, makes those moments all that much better. Too often I've forced a moment to be something more than it is just because it's the last time or only time I'll get to experience it. I then get so focused on perfection or preservation that the real specialness is lost.

Because of my new approach, I'll look back at these few days and remember Grace's addicting laugh, Noah's precious face when he sleeps, and the way my wife smiles when she watches the scene of me playing on the floor with both kids.


Taking a few pictures along the way helps too.

Grandpa trying to cheer up a tired Timothy.

My parents, sister and one of her daughters came to visit us this past weekend to say goodbye. So did my wife's brother and his fiance. As always, time with them seems to pass too quickly, but it was enjoyable to have both sides of the family gathered under one roof. I think the last time all of us were together like this was at our wedding in 2008.

While they were here, we celebrated Grace's second birthday, even though she won't be two until Valentine's Day. But, the benefit of her being two is she won't know the difference.

Celebrating Grace's 2nd birthday a bit early.

As my time here winds down, I plan on spending it how I've been spending it: with those I love as close to me as possible. Nothing too fancy, nothing too planned, just full of as laughter, life, and love.

One small step for Toddlers, one giant leap (in the air) for Mommies!

Please welcome my first guest blogger to the site - my wife! While we're apart, I'm missing some of the big moments, so I asked her if she'd share her experiences here. Enjoy!


I was asked by The Huz to write a post because, well, it happened under my watch.

We purchased a child-sized potty for Grace months ago with intentions of potty training her, but the furthest we ever got was letting her sit on it with all her clothes on. This tactic was mainly used by me so I could keep my eye on her and not have to do the potty dance until The Huz got home from work.

She seemed to enjoy it, most of the time. She liked to read books while she sat down, and we did a lot of counting. We also had a mirror on the bathroom door, so she was able to have endless conversations with herself. All in all, it was a good start to the learning process.

And I really didn't want to do much more until we were settled at my parent's house. I can only imagine what would have happened if we were in the throws of potty training AND trying to move across the country to a new house, new room, and new people.

Now that we are here, and for the most part settled,  I upped the ante. Grace will now sit on her potty without her clothes on and count to ten or more, before she says she's all done. Then we will go through the motions of wiping, flushing, and washing our hands even though she has done nothing.

Until now that is.

This is how the whole thing went down:

Me: Grace, it's time to take a shower, let's try and go potty first.
Grace: All done (in a whiny voice).
Me: Come on, let's get your diaper off and just try to go potty.
Grace: Aaaaaaalll dooooone Mommy!
Me: (Sitting her on the potty) One, Two, Three...
Grace: Hokie Pokie, turn round Mommy?
Me: Nine, Ten. Okay let's get in the shower and clean up.
Grace: All done shower. ALL DONE SHOWER!!!
Me: (throwing her in the shower crying)


When we got out she was excited about being able to brush her teeth, comb her hair, and put lotion on. She was standing at the sink doing all this in only a towel until it started to fall off. At this point, I just gave up with the towel and let her finish naked - it's easier! But then we ended up having a little disagreement about how to brush our teeth and she started crying.

Then she got quiet, and we both watched as pee started trickling down her leg. I quickly sat her on the potty, and she didn't even mind the whiplash. What little pee was left landed in the little green potty! The bathroom quickly went from a crying room to a full on celebration!

Me: Grace, you went pee pee on the potty!!!
Grace: Pee pee on potty (very nonchalantly).
Me: I'm so proud of you! You did it! I love you so much (Lot's of kissing and hugging. Rinse and repeat about ten times).
Grace: Hokie Pokie, turn round Mommy?
Me: I can't wait to tell Daddy, he is going to be so proud of you!
Grace: (With increasing excitement) Talk Daddy, call DADDY, TALK DADDY!!!

We called Daddy right then and there. I let Grace tell him the good news, and the excitement he showed brought tears to my eyes. Once I got my composure and said good-bye, Grace was asking to call Grandpa and GG too. Why wouldn't everyone want to know about the good news? Grace was able to leave them both messages about going pee pee on the potty.

It was such an exciting accomplishment - mostly for Mommy - Grace could have cared less. She was more excited about being able to use the phone and picking out stickers.

We celebrated the occasion just like I had dreamed we would. Yes, I have dreamed of this moment a few times. And I can now say that my daughter used the potty for the first time. That's not only a huge accomplishment for a toddler, but for parents as well. Our daughter is growing up! It's the little things in life, no matter how they happened, that make us call everyone we know to celebrate!

I may have hyped it up a little too much though. Now when we get even remotely close to the bathroom she says, "All done Mommy." But I'll keep trying, even if she's crying her head off. Because that's how much I love her!

The perfect gift idea for a family man to his wife

If you're like me, the challenge of finding the perfect gift for your wife can be a daunting, but ultimately rewarding, endeavor.

Sure, there are the old standbys: flowers, chocolates, gift certificates. They bring a smile to her face, they're appreciated. But honestly they lack personality, thoughtfulness, and originality. I've given all these to my wife and I know she likes them, but I really love wowing her. I love giving her that gift that takes her breath away or puts a tear in her eye.

I think I got it right this past Christmas.

I asked my friend and fellow blogger Lindsay at Mulberry Street Productions to put together a montage of our wedding day photos and video. She didn't disappoint. This is what I gave my wife:

This video not only was a hit with my wife, it was great for me. I look back at our wedding day in my mind's eye and I see highlights: How beautiful she looked walking down the aisle; our vows; our mom's messages to us; the ukelele; dancing out of the church; the best man speech; our first dance; sneaking outside during the reception to look in on the scene of happiness (a piece of advice given to us by Lindsay, actually) But when I saw the montage for the first time I was able to see little details of those moments that my own (poor) memory has now glazed over. I got to relive the day.

It's been said many times by many people, but the greatest things in life aren't things at all. They're the people we love. That's why this video is something my wife and I will treasure for the rest of our lives. It's a perfect representation of our happiest day.

The power of technology

I've often wondered how families separated kept in touch before the days of high-speed Internet connections. I mean, I know they had letters and phone calls, but video calls are amazing. They shorten the distance between people.

This morning, at 6, I enjoyed a cup of coffee my daughter "poured" for me. She was asking my wife for me this morning, so we were able to get on Skype and chat for a few minutes before my quiet time and having to get ready for work. Part of that chat was a virtual tea party.

There's Internet where I'm going, so we'll be able to have more of these parties as the year goes on. But, I wonder, will being able to see my family but not being able to touch them make the separation harder? What do you think?

Starting the year off right

I start off this new year alone. But I’m not going to let that fact bring me (or you) down.

As I type, it’s New Year’s Day and I’m sitting in an airport waiting for a flight that will undo in 6 hours what took my family and me 6 days to do – cross the country. However, I don’t have my travel companions with me for this trip. I left my wife, two children, and dog with her parents as I finish up the last bit of training and preparations for a year-long deployment.

It probably goes without saying that I’m sad about all of this. No one – at least those with happy marriages – asks to be separated from their loved ones for long periods of time. But it’s simply a reality we’ve come to accept. We both compartmentalized the feelings; the reality really hasn’t sunk in for my wife or me yet.

And not to sound insensitive, but it’s not my wife I really worry about. We’ve done this before. We endured a six-month deployment the first year we got married. We made it through. I would even say our relationship grew stronger because of the first deployment. We didn’t waste time quarreling about things our first year. We talked. We got to know each other better through almost daily conversations on video chat and the phone. We didn’t want to waste those precious moments we had together disagreeing. We wanted to talk about everything else. And we did.

But, as I’ve said before, this deployment is two kids later. They need me to hold them. To play with them. To teach them. To be a dad. My fear is that “Daddy” will become something else my daughter sees on the computer or TV, not unlike Mickey Mouse. When I come home, my son will have known a digital version of me more than the real me. There’s undoubtedly going to be a major adjustment for all of us when I get back.

My wife and I will be fine. Sure, there will be near-unbearable days. Those days where both of us will want to throw in the towel and quit this challenge God has laid out for us. But we’ll talk it out. We’ll get through it. We’ll pray for each other and encourage each other the way we always do.

In that light, I want to lay out my goals for 2012. These aren’t resolutions. The last New Year’s resolution I made (about a decade ago) was to not make any more New Year’s resolutions. So these are goals.  Instead of poo-hooing what’s bound to be a lonely year, I’m going to make the best of it. Through that, hopefully my wife and I will be the nucleus for an even stronger family in 2013.

The list:

• I will not feel sorry for myself.

Hundreds of thousands of people have done exactly what we’re doing now. While challenging and awkward, deployments aren’t new. Many have endured much more than us and come out the other end just fine.

• I will not allow you to feel sorry for me. 

Yes, I’ll use this blog to talk about the difficulties of separation and my feelings about being a parent from 7,000 miles away, but I won’t do so I can host a pity party. Please, pray for my family and me. Please offer encouragement and advice, but please don’t feel sorry. We picked this life, and my wife and I are honored to serve this country in the roles we’re in.

• I will study more of God’s word.

I’ve been pretty regular with reading the Bible, but I want to get more out of my daily quiet time. I want to emerge a better Christian, husband, and leader because of my relationship with Christ.

• I will write more.

This could be for the blog. This could be for other personal reasons. But, since I started doing this page a few months ago, I’ve rediscovered writing as a creative outlet and stress reducer. I’m going to need both.

• I will watch less.

I like TV, and they’ve got it in Afghanistan, but I use the tube as a way to pass more time than I probably should. Maybe engaging in more stimulating things in my downtime while deployed will produce a more creative, thoughtful me.

• I will be more organized and focus on routine.

I have a habit of getting a good idea, sticking with it for a few days and then getting lazy. Maybe if I focus on developing good habits, I’ll learn to stick with things a bit longer. Not only is this a good personal goal, it will help pass time more quickly. If I focus on what I’m doing, there will be less time for my mind to dwell on other things.

• I will strive to be a role model for others when it comes to dealing with being a deployed family man.

So many people in the military divorce or have strained relationships. Multiple deployments and the tough-guy culture don’t help. If I can have a good attitude, instead of being negative about the situation, maybe others can feed off of that and do the same.

• I will be the best Dad I can be, no matter where I am.

I will always have time for them, and I will seek ways to be that father figure they need. Even virtually.

• I will be the best husband I can be, no matter where I am.

I will make sure my wife knows how much I love her and how amazing I think she is. She’ll still need me (and I her), and I will make sure I don’t let her down.

There. A list. You can hold me to it too. So with goals (not resolutions) laid out in digital stone, here’s to 2012!

Christmas is *sigh* over

With all the buildup, planning, shopping, wrapping, traveling, anticipation, excitement, stress, exhaustion, and joy, Christmas is *snap* over just like that.

It was nice waking up in my childhood home and coming down to this first thing Christmas morning:


It was a good scene to see after 3,000 miles on the road and more energy devoted to that and all the other details of our move than to Christmas.

Now, in the post-holiday lull, I'm trying to figure out how to slow time down and savor every moment I can with my family.

I'll probably see ya'all in the new year.

Dadalogue on the Road: Day 3

The kids finally snapped. I was hoping we'd have perfect little angels the whole way, but keeping them cooped up in car seats has finally done them in. Grace showed her ugly side - throwing a tantrum in McDonald's for lunch and a mini tantrum at the restaurant we ate at for dinner. We were that family today.

I know it's probably not as big of a deal as I'm making it out to be. As my level-headed wife points out, we'll never see those people again, our kids are weary from traveling, and they were nice enough to take a credit card to pay for all the damages.

Okay, I'm kidding on that last part. There were no damages, except for maybe my pride. I just want my two-year-old to instinctively understand how to behave in public. Pshaw to actually teaching her these things. My lack of tolerance for her behavior probably mostly stems from my exhaustion of being on the road and not so much on her actual actions.

In the minivan, things weren't much better than they were in the restaurants. Sure, the two little ones were restrained, but their crying in stereo was the perfect accompaniment to the rain from downpour I drove through the entire day. All 560 miles was done with my wipers whipping. The Wife, amazing as usual, sat in the cramped micro-seat between the two little ones - holding a teether for Timothy with one hand while reading a book to Grace with the other. She handled the situation and got me a few hours of quiet so I could concentrate on the road.

The only bright side of the day was that at least the rain wasn't the blizzard I was trying to out-drive. We left at 6:30 this morning so we wouldn't get stuck in this. We got several calls of concern wondering if we were some of those stranded motorists.

No. We're fine. I don't even think I could fathom what being stranded with Jekyll and Hyde would be like.

But, after a long day on the road, we're safely in a comfortable hotel room. Timothy is finally sleeping. He seems to be recovering well from the day's travels. For Grace, however, the night is young. She's free from her restraints. It may be 10 o'clock, but like a college freshman, that's when the night begins. It's time to party!

Pray for patience for the parents.

Say cheese!

I thought my wife's idea of getting a family portrait done was great. She'd have something to frame, and I'd have something to carry with me in my pocket in Afghanistan. HeartsApart.org, a non-profit that connects servicemembers with photographers, would do this for free for us too. Very cool.

The concept of getting our family picture taken seemed easy too: Dress up, pose, smile, click, and done. Five minutes. Beautiful photo, home for football.

The deceiving thing about a photo, however, is that is shows you, at most, 1/60 of a second of time. You really have no idea what's going on between those split seconds. Smiles - or what looks like smiles - could really be the reaction from you kid kicking you in the crotch.

It seemed that neither one of the kids wanted a happy family moment to happen for us. Our perfect little angles must have been possessed for the hour and a half we were at Lauren's house. Grace would not sit still, Timothy cried. If we got one to cooperate for a moment, the other would blow up. I have never bribed one child as much as I did during this shoot. I think I may have even promised a pony in exchange for three seconds of calmness.

Every chance she got, Grace would tear away from me or the wife and run into another room. I'd get up and have to go chase her down. She was mule kicking me the whole way back to the set. I was getting hot from repeating this exercise a dozen times. I hope you can Photoshop out sweat.

If Grace wasn't running into other rooms, she was up in Lauren's face begging to see the camera. Actually grabbing for it too. I know cameras and I was praying she didn't break this one. I don't know how I'd feel if this free photo shoot would have set me back a couple grand.

Timothy just was not happy in any position. All he probably wanted to do was sleep, and we were bouncing him, pulling his hands out of his mouth, swaying, and tickling to get him to smile - everything but leaving him alone. Poor kid.

Lauren was an absolute saint through all this. She is a young military wife and professional photographer who volunteered to work with HeartsApart. Her and her husband don't have any kids yet, but she was perfect with them. Much more patient than me or my wife when Grace went exploring around the electronics array near their TV, or Timothy was wailing instead of smiling. And she had just enough tricks up her sleeve to get smiles from both kids.

When all of us adults reached complete exhaustion we threw in the towel. What was on that camera card was all Lauren was going to have to work with. However, she showed us a few frames that she captured, and they made my heart smile.

I really do have a beautiful family - even when our kids' attitudes aren't the best I feel so blessed to be their dad. And now I'll have a picture to remind me every day that I'm gone of how wonderful they are.

Mini-traditions

I think one of my favorite things about being a dad is being able to create and do special mini-traditions and routines with the kids.

For instance my daughter can't go to bed without "show." That's where I swing her back and forth and then into her crib while saying "One for the money. Two for the show. Three to get ready. And four to go!" My dad did it do me as a kid, but beyond that, I don't know any one else who does.

And that's what I love about it. It's unique, it's personal, and it's a moment that guarantees a smile from both of us - no matter how the rest of day went. I also think that moments like "show" are a part of shaping our kid's personalities. We like to have fun around here, and anywhere we can interject an element of fun, we do!

Timothy likes when I lift him up over my head and say hi to him. He laughs and smiles at "Pat-a-Cake" every time. Each round of "Ring around the Rosie" always ends with tickling on the floor. Fist bumps follow high-fives. When football comes on TV, we all throw are hands up in the air and yell "Touchdown!" But my favorite routine, and it's fairly new, is prayers before bed time.

Grace will sit in my lap and fold her little hands and bow her head while we pray. I say the prayer (for now) but she always ends with the "Amen." It's so cute it melts my heart every time.

The turkey's revenge

I was almost murdered on Thanksgiving. By a turkey.

It was a near-tragic end to an otherwise perfect day.

It was perfect because our house was buzzing with activity. Last year, Thanksgiving was just the Wife, Grace, and me. But I absolutely love when we FILL our home with people. There were nine of us this year: the four of us plus the Sis-in-law, her two kids, and two of our good friends.

I love the chaos. I love the conversations. I love sitting back and watching the kids run around and play with each other. I love being able to cook for everyone. When our house is full, I get to see so many moments I will cherish and remember forever. To me full houses have an energy about them that just says "fun."

For the meal, the centerpiece was a 20-pound turkey. Sixteen hours in a brine and then baked with apple, onion, and cinnamon aromatics.

All of our vegetables were casseroled because, well,  they're more delicious that way. We had sweet potato casserole, Gruyere broccoli casserole, and green been casserole. There were also smashed red potatoes, stuffing, cranberries, and four pies. Just about everything that called for butter had heart attack-inducing amounts of it; we must've gone through three pounds of it on Thursday (Paula Dean and Julia Child would've been proud).

Oh yeah, so about that murder attempt.

After the meal, while everyone was in a food coma, Sis-in-law and I were working on a soup stock from the leftover carcass of what was turkey perfection. The stock was starting to bubble over in the pot, and we were trying to figure out what to do. Like anyone whose been through a traumatic event, the details are a little fuzzy, but I think I was trying to remove the strainer that had all the turkey parts and veggies in it from the pot. As I started to pull it out to move it to the sink, the turkey skeleton - in a last-ditch effort to exact revenge for what I did to it earlier that day - thrust itself back towards the pot. The strainer slipped from my hands and splashed boiling hot stock over me, Sis-in-law, and the stove.

It could've been much worse, but ninja-like reflexes on both our parts prevented a trip to the ER. We escaped with only minor burns on our arms. The stove suffered the most damage - the digital display shorted out and none of the burners would light. It kept beeping sporadically until I unplugged it. Fortunately,  everything on the stove dried out by the next morning, saving me at least a couple hundred bucks in repair bills.

Yes, all-in-all it was a memorable Thanksgiving. We were surrounded by people we love, laughed a lot, ate delicious food, and even had a near-death experience to top it all off.

The Secret to Successful Parenting

I think one of the secrets to successful parenting is having a strong church family.

Since we've been married my wife and I have made it a priority in our lives to be a part of a church and to get involved. Connecting with a small group has introduced us to others that share a love of Jesus Christ in an intimate environment, and we've both grown in our faith because of this.

Hearing the pastor preach on Sunday mornings is important, but often that message only goes one way. In our small group our faith becomes a discussion. Steel sharpens steel, and there is no better example of this to me than the conversations we have in our small group.

We've seen the positive impacts of being in a church small group grow since having children. As a military family far away from our parents, we've been able to have a support system close to us where ever we've been stationed. Being able to interact and share stories with other like-minded parents and adults has been a blessing.

Another blessing has been the generosity of our church family. The clothes, toys and other baby needs given to us after having both kids has been overwhelming. These are major expenses that we've been able to avoid, and we are truly grateful. We hope to be able to do the same for others in the future.

I also believe our involvement with a small group will become more important as our children grow and they begin to understand who Jesus is. Faith, to them, will not just be inside a bubble in our house. It will be something they see their parents live out in other environments. They'll also be able to play with other children being raised in Christian households. When our children begin to develop their own sense of what religion is, I believe all these interactions will have a positive influence on their decisions. As Christian parents who's prayers are for their children to someday follow our footsteps in faith, these interactions and relationships are so critical.

We love all the people we've met and gotten to know in our small groups as the military has moved us around. Because of them the burdens of parenting have been lighter and the joys have been greater. I thank God for them all.

Saying Goodbye

The family we had in town for the last couple weeks leaves today.

While our house will be back to "normal," I'm sad to have to say goodbye. I know that Grace enjoyed having her two cousins around. She finally had pint-sized playmates besides the dog almost 24/7. Timothy had more than enough people to hold and rock him, and The Wife and I had other adults to talk to (simple things, really).

There's more to this goodbye for me though. What kept me from falling back asleep this morning - besides Timothy wriggling in  my arms fighting off his own sleep - was the realization that this goodbye means I'm closer to the one I've been dreading for a while now.

In the not-to-distant future I'll be separated from my family for a year.

A whole year.

Those words are like a punch in the gut every time I think about them.

I've deployed before. My wife and I were barely six months into our first year of marriage when I went to Afghanistan. Half of our first "honeymoon" year was through bad phone connections, e-mail, and grainy video chats.

While that deployment was certainly difficult at times, this is going to be even tougher. I'm going for twice as long and now there's two kids who grow and change every day. That's 365 days of change I'll miss.

I know that my wife and kids will be well taken care of while I'm gone, and I'm going to be busy most of the time, but I'm sad knowing I'll miss Timothy's first steps, Grace's ever-expanding vocabulary grow into full sentences, and the fact that The Wife has to balance everything on her own. She didn't ask to be a single mother, and yet my service is forcing that for a while.

Don't get me wrong though. I'm proud of what I do, and my wife supports and helped make the decision that I should stay in the Marines. It was a decision made with lots of prayer, and we believe this is where God wants me right now. We'll make it through, just like we did at the beginning of our marriage.

But goodbyes suck.

Whether it's goodbye after two weeks with your sister and her amazing family, or it's goodbye to the people that complete your life.

Goodbyes suck.

Fueling the Disney obsession

We indulged our daughter's obsession yesterday.

First off, I didn't know people under two could even have obsessions. But, since before she could walk, Grace has been captivated by The Mickey Mouse Clubhouse on TV. I think it started as an innocent way for The Wife to get both hands free for two seconds to get dressed or to do some other necessary chore. That has turned to endless pleas for "Mickey, Mickey ... Miiiiccckkkeeey."

Like me with my morning coffee, my daughter has to watch Mickey Mouse. I'd love to tell you we were better parents and don't let our child watch TV so the coffee we do get to enjoy is hot. I'd love to tell you we are more creative than that. I'd love to tell you Grace's obsession hasn't gone too far.

But I don't like lying.

And yet, we went to Disneyland yesterday. The West Coast mecca of Mickey.

I love going to Disney parks. But this was my favorite trip, by far. To watch a child, even as young as Grace, wide-eyed, taking in the sites and sounds of the "happiest place on Earth" was special. I loved the fact we could let her run around Mickey's house and other areas and get into anything she wanted. I loved her interactions with the other toddlers. And I especially loved watching the moment she got to meet the animated character she's seen on TV for months.

Yes, we didn't do Grace any favors yesterday by taking her to Disneyland. I'm sure we've fueled her obsession until she's 90, but we sure had a lot of fun.

Editor's note: Yes, we do have a son too. Yes, he was there yesterday. He slept the whole time.