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Showing posts from December, 2019

The Craziest Time of Day is Taking the Kids to School

7:25 AM. "5 more minutes." Silence from the kids. They gaze at their devices. At this point in the morning routine, everything should be done . Teeth brushed. Socks on. Water bottles filled. Snack in bag . Bags packed. Should . Everything should be done . 7:28 AM. "2 more minutes." "Really? That's it?" one of the boys unwisely asks. 7:30 AM. "It's time to go!" Dylan rips off his headphones and looks at me. "Time to go now?" Are you freaking kidding me? What part of "time to go" does he not understand? Did I leave open the possibility of some other time we might leave? It's time to get your behind off the couch and into my car. Now. Where is the confusion? All 3 boys sense my frustration. By "sense", I mean they can hear me yelling. Dylan grabs his backpack. "Don't forget to kiss your mom!" I exclaim angrily. Aimee isn't pleased. The kids sh

Did Jesus Believe in Himself?

Dylan (2) stood in front of the crucifix. He stared at it. This Man , the Son of God, had blood dripping from holes in His wrists. His feet, the same. Thorns ripped apart His forehead. Blood droplets looked like red tears.  His side was slashed . More blood. Not all depictions of Jesus are the same. This  was very detailed. Gruesome. Dylan looked and looked. In my head, I rehearsed answers for what Dylan might ask. But never did I expect his question. "Dad. Do you have nipples like Jesus?" That was his take-away? He was little, but well versed in the Bible. His daycare was Christian. We went to church. We prayed. He knew Jesus. And in his mind, if that man on the cross was really the Son of God, then all the amazing stories — from miracles to the resurrection —  could be (and were) true. So, why question it further? Yes, I know. You can tell a two-year-old many things, and if you do you so convincingly, they'll buy it. That theological battle aside, as a belie

When the Santa Years Are Over

On Wednesday, November 20, 2013, I came downstairs to find  the artificial Christmas tree box was pried open by forks. It was a kiddie-crime, orchestrated by Dylan (age 6) and Carter (3). However, the true m  astermind behind the operation was yours truly ~ me.