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!

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!

Home

I guess you could say this Christmas we are "undecorating."

You see, today is the last day we'll be together as a family in the place we've called home for the last year and a half. Tomorrow, we start the trek back East. The Wife and kids will be staying with her parents while I'm deployed.

The reality of all this is finally sinking in.

Finding this house was a true blessing. When we first moved out here we were living in a dingy hotel room, sharing a wall with the room that housed the hotel's industrial sheet washers. We were desperate to get out of there, but nothing we looked at even remotely fit our needs. Houses were either way too small, too rundown, or too expensive to be suitable. We were about to start looking at places an hour or more away from my job when we decided to check this one last place out.

The Filipino lady who greeted us was sweet and warm. She was just as excited to show us the place as we were to look. Four bedrooms with a beautiful kitchen 20 minutes from work and right at our budget. When she found out I was a Marine she started to cry. Her husband, who died a few years ago, was a retired Marine. He had told her that if she were to ever rent the place to rent it to a Marine or a missionary.  God had answered many prayers that morning.

After looking at the place, the Wife and I exchanged nods and said we'd take it. Then, in the middle of the kitchen, our new landlord asked if we'd pray with her. That was the start of many wonderful memories here.

Even though we are close to 3,000 miles away from most of our family (except the Wife's sister and her two children), most of those memories involved our family visiting. We had Becky's aunt and uncle and their three kids around for Grace's first birthday. Her parents were here a couple times. My parents came a couple times. My sister, brother-in-law and their two kids came to stay for a bit.

We welcomed our second child into the world here. Well, we welcomed at the hospital technically, but we brought him back here. I'll always remember watching the Wife do Wii yoga in the living room at nine months pregnant trying to start labor. That didn't work, but I'll also always remember the friends who came here to help us out at 3 in the morning when it was go time.

I'll always remember this year's Thanksgiving and what a blessing and a blast it was.

I'll always remember how much fun it was to splash in the pool with Grace and our niece and nephew. Until we moved here, I'd never seen two kids spend nearly eight straight hours in a pool.

I'll always remember cool nights in a hot tub.

I'll always remember snuggling with my wife and both of us talking in amazement how blessed we are.

I'll always remember my nightly bedtime routine with Grace.

I'll always remember finally feeling grown up because we no longer lived in an apartment. I jumped for joy at the sight of a garage. The Wife jumped for joy at a - no kidding - full-sized washer and dryer.

I'll always remember my first (and so far only) attempt at being handy. I built a set of shelves to go in our living room. They took me four weeks to make.

I'll always remember running up the Marine Corps and American flags up our flagpole. That may seem minor to some people, but that made me feel proud on so many levels.

I'll always remember Grace taking her first steps here.

I'll always remember rocking Timothy to sleep in his room.

I'll always remember rolling around on the floor with Grace while the Wife and Timothy looked on - all of us laughing.

Yes, a lot has happened here in the last year and a half. It's all those things - and so many more - that make me sentimental about not living here anymore.

Moving has to be the most difficult part of being in the military. I long for the day that we can call a place home and mean it. Where our roots can grow deep, the memories would fill volumes, and the door is always open to those we love.

But that's not our reality yet, and I'm okay with that. I also realize that a house is just wood and drywall. A home is so much more.

It's wherever me, my wife, and children are together.  

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.

Free legal advice

I'm no lawyer, but I promise that if you're a parent of young children this is legal advice you should heed:

1) Never, I repeat, NEVER take tired children to your lawyer's office when you go to sign your will. They will disrupt the entire legal system and drive you to the edge of crazy.

2) Bribing a toddler with "be quite and sit down or else your brother gets everything" doesn't work. They don't understand wills. However, giving your toddler a cell phone to play with solves all problems.

My toddler is a teenager

My daughter is already showing signs of teenageritis - and she's not even two.

Her shoe shopping expedition was cute. That's not what I'm talking about. This problem is getting ugly. She LOVES phones.

Sure, it started out cute. In fact, Grace learned to crawl by placing a cell phone just out of her reach. The love grew from there. With her imagination, everything became a phone: her hand, shoes, crayons, sweet potatoes. She hold them up to her ear and carry on a conversation with who I assume was Mickey Mouse.  When she started walking, she would pace with a phone (or sweet potatoes) to her ear, waving her free hand from time to time to emphasize the REALLY important gibberish point she was making. She would pause to hear the other end of the conversation, laugh, and then continue her gibberish. Like I said, cute.

Now, like her father, she has become picky about technology. Her Leap Frog cell phone is too baby for her. Her deactivated adult cell phone doesn't hold a charge. She wants - nay - must have the real thing. She even knows how to unlock an iPhone to get to the good stuff. If the Wife or I accidentally leave one of our phones on the coffee table (for 2 nanoseconds) Grace will get a hold of it and is in heaven. Until we take it away. Then the flood gates open. Not much phases this little girl, but take a real cell phone away from her, and it's like you told a 5-year-old that Santa isn't real.

Anymore we practically have to leave the room if one of us adults wants to make a phone call without her asking to "Talk GiGi. Talk Bop Bop." Over and over again.


Yesterday, we gave in. The Wife was talking to her mother (GiGi to the kids), and Grace wanted to say hello. So, the Wife handed her the phone, and off she went on a nonstop gibberish conversation about who knows what. She may have recounted our entire Thanksgiving weekend, or relayed the latest gossip from the church nursery. She was ecstatic to have someone on the other end of the phone. Cute. But like a teenage girl talking to a boy, when we told her it was time to hang up, she got upset and drug the goodbyes out for at least another three minutes.

"Vuv oohh. Buh-bye ... Hi Gigi. Howyoudoingt'day? Vuv oohh. Buh-bye ... Hi GiGi!"


Maybe I shouldn't be so worried now. Yes, she may be displaying signs of being a teenager, but thank God, she isn't actually one yet. The conversations are harmless, they're with people we love, and we're right there.

I should probably save my worrying when she's 15 and "Biff" calls.

Dinner out with kids

To me, going out to eat is one of life's greatest pleasures. Few things beat a delicious meal, good drinks, and spending time with people you love. I even like the build up of picking the place to go - reading the reviews, hemming and hawing over which cuisine to settle on, and thinking about the meal I'm going to have on the drive over.

Yes, my idea of entertainment is a good meal out.

Enter kids.

They change everything. Not always in a bad way, mind you, but since we've had children, going out to eat is a different experience and a different form of entertainment (both for us and the people around us).

Take last night for example. My grandmother has been in town for a few days and wanted to treat us to a meal. We chose P.F. Chang's because it's delicious yet kid friendly. As soon as we sit down, Grace attacks the kiddie menu with a crayon. Two seconds later, she's done and ready to get up. Of course we haven't even see our server yet, so this child is gonna hafta wait a couple hours.

My job as the one sitting next to her was to distract her by any means possible. This was a challenge as I was rifling through the diaper bag looking for something to give her to play with. She was getting impatient and starting to arch her back in her high chair. She threw the crayon and menu on the floor. I now feel people's eyes on our table.

Then I discovered that P.F. Chang's has chopsticks in their silverware roll-up they give you! Drum sticks! Perfect. Child one satisfied.

Timothy, however, was not happy. He was fussing because he was hungry. However he didn't want the bottle that we brought. In his mind he was thinking that Mommy was right there, so why should he have to settle for a bottle? He could get the milk right from its source. Apparently our four-month-old has a discerning palate already. This will be good when people try to tell him Outback has good steaks but not now. Not when we're trying to pass once-frozen milk off as fresh.

He also needed a diaper change. I took him since The Wife was in the corner of the booth. The baby pass over the top of the table (and the candle flame!) was successful. Baby and diaper changing accessories in hand, I made my way through the tables towards the restrooms. As a father, this walk to the bathroom is always done with a reoccurring thought: "Will this restaurant have a baby changing station in the men's room?"

I then have flashbacks to the time that Grace was two months old and had to change her in the four-inch space between two sinks. That was the time I discovered I could change a diaper with one hand as I supported her head with the other. That was also the only time I've ever come close to accidentally dropping one of our kids.

I am happy to report P.F. Chang's is one of the few restaurants that actually recognizes fathers as having an active roll in child raising. They have a changing station, and it works. It's not marked up with graffiti. The hinges work. Someone has cleaned it recently. Timothy and I are both happy - for a few minutes any way.

Back at the table, he got fussy again. He still wouldn't take the bottle from The Wife. Another baby pass over the table (there were about 15 this night) and back to me to try. He wouldn't take the bottle from me either, but I managed to get him to stop crying.

It's amazing what a father will do in public to keep their children happy. It's also amazing that I don't really care what people think either. Rousing renditions of the ABCs and "Pat-a-cake" with both kids drew laughter and smiles from them and certainly more than a few looks from people who would rather talk politics and sports rather than listen to my off-key singing. I should also mention I am a pro at the "bounce and shush." I spent a good portion of the meal standing and bouncing, rocking and swaying Timothy while humming and shushing in his ear to keep him quiet.

I should mention a couple things in closing. First, both of our kids are generally wonderful, obedient, and calm at restaurants. I know this because other diners have come up to tell us this. Secondly, Grace wound up settling in to her high chair captivity and even enjoyed her low mein noodles (she actually used chopsticks too!).

And it's watching moments like that that still make going out to eat one of life's great pleasures for me.

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.

Sleepless in Southern California

My wife and I are blessed, and we know it. We have two absolutely wonderful children that bring so much joy into our lives. They don't get sick too often, they don't cry too much, and they don't embarrass us in public. Yes, we have it pretty good. Until about 9:30 at night.

It's a recent phenomenon, but our four-month-old son will not sleep. He'll fall asleep on my wife, she'll put him in his crib, and 20 minutes later he's crying. She'll go back in to his room, rock him back to sleep, put him in his crib, and 20 minutes later he's crying. Repeat. All. Night. Long.

Occasionally, usually around 3 a.m., it's my turn to try, but I've had worse luck. He'll just cry on me. Apparently I'm not as comfortable as my wife. I also don't come bearing food, which may have a lot to do with it.

This is the point in this post were I need to thank my wife and shower her with diamonds, Oreo cookies, and pedicures. As you can see, she has taken most (99%) of this burden on herself. I have not asked her to, but she's the one that gets up with our son. Part of it may be because I could sleep through a freight train barreling through our house (side effect of sleeping next to a very active military flight line while deployed) and I just don't hear him. But the reason is more likely because my wife is a saint. She wants me to be able to go to work refreshed.

This sacrifice on her part wasn't too bad when Timothy would sleep for long stretches (we were close to all night a couple of times), but now it's taking a toll. Getting two hours of sleep a night is not good for anyone. We may have to go to bottles at night or something because I want my wife to be able to get the sleep she needs. I really feel bad, and I want to take on some of this burden.

I'll wrap this post up with a few theories as to why he doesn't sleep any more:

• A growth spurt
• He's afraid of the dark
• He wants to stay up for Letterman
• His stinky feet keep him awake (more on this in a future post)
• Separation anxiety
• Poor nursery feng shui is throwing him off
• Bad gas
• He's four months old

I'm open to any theories you all have. You can leave them in the comments below. And if you could say a prayer for my saint of a wife, I would appreciate that even more.

Adult Conversations

I am one of those parents. It's not that I planned on it, wanted to, or can change. But I have become one of them. When talking with other adults, including my wife, I can only talk about my kids, parenting techniques, and the finer points of baby bodily functions.

I simply do not possess the capability to hold a conversation for any length of time about anything else. Take, for example, sports. We watch them in this household on a regular basis. We root for the home team. We even catch the occasional SportsCenter. I should know enough to hold a five-minute conversation about last night's game. However it goes more like this:

Coworker: Did you catch the ball game last night?

Me: Sure did. Great game.

Coworker: How about that homerun in the seventh!

Me: Oh yeah, it was awesome. As soon as it happened Grace did the cutest thing! She heard the crowed cheering on TV and started to clap and cheer herself. We love that she enjoys sports so much. We're such cool parents!

Coworker:

Me: We even had Timothy in a baseball-themed onesie. That is, until he soaked it so much with drool we had to change him.

Coworker:

Me:

And that's about how the conversation ends for me. Awkward silence. Fortunately for the coworker, someone else usually overhears the attempted conversation and jumps in to rescue him with batting average stats, the amazing performance by the relief pitcher, and the lousy ump.

Talking with fellow parents isn't so bad. It seems we're all stuck in the same conversation rut. However my wife and I still have friends who don't have kids yet. Thankfully, they're nice enough to still call us to get together, but I can't imagine how boring we sound.

If you think I'm complaining about all this, I'm really not. I love talking about my kids. Besides my faith, I'm finally passionate about something to the point I can talk about it all the time and not get bored. Good for me. Maybe not so much for you.