The Not-So-Golden Child

The idea of parental favoritism is nothing new. We see examples of it in literature throughout the ages. We see examples in scripture. It's a tale as old as time.

I've always found parental favoritism interesting. One or both parents just seem to click with one child, while another child tends to be left to fend for himself. I get it. We all get along with those whose personalities complement our own. We tend to distance ourselves from those whose personalities or character traits clash with ours. It's normal and natural.

Normal and natural among peers. It is not normal or natural in relation to our children.

I don't often open up about my personal wounds. Let me share something with you that I've never openly discussed. I'm risking a lot by bringing this out, because many of those involved in this story could read this post, thereby creating a whirlpool of conflict. However, the facts are the facts, and our reactions to those facts are our choices.

I grew up in Southern California. My dad's family had traveled and sung all over the West Coast for years. They sang in churches each weekend. There was a lot of talent in the group, and they were becoming fairly well-known in the regional southern gospel community. My dad was the second of three sons, all of whom played roles in the family musical group.

My cousins and I appeared, at first, in stair-steps. My brother was the first born, then my cousin a year later, then I came along a year after that. Another cousin was born a few years after I was, then a set of twins. Then my youngest uncle began having daughters. It made for large gatherings and fun times, mostly.

I noticed while growing up, though, that my cousins spent far more time with my grandparents than my brother and I did. It always seemed odd to me that my family lived just twenty minutes away, but saw my grandparents extremely rarely. Each time we did see them, my cousins were there. And...my cousins were always talking about how Grandma and Grandpa had gone with them to some event or how Grandma and Grandpa had bought them some gift or another. Grandma and Grandpa were always having the cousins over to spend the nights or to watch them while their parents went somewhere. My cousins, though, lived twice as far from them as we did.

Over time, I realized two things: First, my parents enjoyed spending time with my brother and me, and didn't take us to our grandparents' place to be babysat. Second, my grandparents never set up get-togethers with us the way they did with my cousins. To be fair, this applied to only one set of cousins, as my dad's youngest brother's daughters were born much later.

My dad was the middle child, the second of three brothers. He had been the lead singer for the family's singing group for a very long time, but had left the group to pursue his calling as a pastor. The fact that the singing group traveled a lot would explain much of the fact that my cousins spent more time with my grandparents. However, what about the many weekdays they spent together and the various social get-togethers my grandparents seemed to be arranging with them all the time?

It may seem petty, but such favoritism among the cousins had a lasting impact on my brother and me. Over time, we hardly knew our grandparents anymore. It stung each time we were at a family get-together and our cousins would show off the items my grandparents had bought for them. It stung each time we'd hear funny stories about things that had been said and done at one of the many events they'd gone to with my cousins.

I was a child. I was their grandchild. They showed no interest in me. That hurt. That left scars.

I didn't realize at the time that this was the pattern they'd followed with my father, either. Being the middle child, my dad was between the first-born son and the much younger "baby" son. The first-born was treated as if he could do no wrong, and the youngest son's every talent, accomplishment, and milestone was lauded and magnified. My dad worked two jobs and pastored a church full time, but went unrecognized.

I have five children. Two are adults and three are at home with me. I cannot fathom the thought process that allows a parent to favor one child over another. Some of my children are more like me than others. Some of them are totally different. Some communicate with me more and some less. Yet, with the birth of each subsequent child, my love for the previous ones did not decrease. My interest in them did not decrease. Just when I thought my family was complete, God added another person to it. However, instead of dividing a finite amount of love by one more person, it seems God added exponentially more love to my heart, and it increased toward all of my kids. That's what parenting should be.

Not so with some parents, though. It seemed, in my dad's case, that his parents' affections migrated toward the two sons (and their families) who had the most in common with them. My oldest uncle and my younger uncle remained in the singing group, cutting several albums with the family, and traveling with them from singing engagement to singing engagement. I guess that was what was important to them, at least more important than seeking out the middle son and his two sons who would have loved to have a relationship with their grandparents as well.

It's sad that people would neglect one of their children's needs for a relationship while boasting on and on about how wonderful their other sons were and how great their kids were. Frankly, I got sick of hearing it. For a long time I resented my cousins for it. I realized that was misplaced resentment, though, and have adjusted my thinking. I now have pretty good relationships with several of my cousins. With the rest of the family, my brother and I are still outsiders. Though we've lived respectable lives, stayed out of trouble, and spent our lives serving God rather than ourselves, we never could break into the favored status required to be an integral part of our family.

It still stings, to an extent. I'm not angry anymore. My grandfather passed on a couple of decades ago, and my grandmother is in her mid-nineties. I hold no ill-will toward her. I simply don't know her. She's a stranger. I know her time on earth is growing short. I expect that when I find she has gone to her reward, I'll pause and consider it just like I would any other acquaintance. However, it won't be as though I've lost someone close to me. That was her choice. Over nearly five decades, I've been nothing more than an afterthought.

This all came to mind recently as I've watched the same thing happen to my children. My wife has two sisters, each with multiple children. My in-laws are following a very similar pattern for different reasons. My wife is the oldest of the three daughters. She is a godly woman, a devoted wife, a fantastic mother. Her sisters' lives have been far less stable. Therefore, the lives of their children have been rather tumultuous.

Much as my grandparents remained attached to the sons with whom they shared the most common interests, my mother-in-law is doing the same. Two of her daughters are following diligently her examples in outlook and actions, choices, and consequences. As a result, she feels very comfortable with them, often justifying their behaviors while at the same time feigning great frustration with them in gestures that would rival the overacting of a stand-in vaudevillian entertainer.

My wife, because of her lifestyle choices, doesn't fit in. She doesn't drink, doesn't smoke, abuses no chemicals, is in a stable marriage. She speaks articulately, strives to better herself, is always learning, and is an integral part of her children's daily activities. She homeschools the children, cooks most things from scratch, has worked hard to support herself, and is respectful. She removes herself from the drama that typically surrounds so many people. Many of these traits make her much different than her siblings.

My mother-in-law, on the other hand, can identify with many of the choices that her second and third daughters. They are very similar in personality and outlook to her. Therefore, mother and daughters tend to band together, often to the exclusion of my wife. Reminiscent of my experiences as a child, my wife lives twenty minutes from her mother but rarely sees her. When my wife reaches out, she is filled in on how busy her mom is with her other two sisters and their children.

My wife recently gently expressed her frustration with the fact that her mom never has time for my wife or our kids. Her mom texted her, saying that they'd set up a time the following week to get together. My wife never heard back. Then, when my wife reached out again, asking about their get-together, her mom said she had to run some errands with one of her other grandchildren. Then, when my wife demonstrated how this fits the pattern, she was told that my in-laws would like to take my wife and children to the zoo to make up for it.

As the day for the zoo trip grew nearer, my wife was told that the other grandchildren would have to be there as well. Then the event never materialized because of separate activities with the other grandkids.

Look, I'm just going to say it like it is. I know this post is turning into a rant. That wasn't my intention. However, on the occasions when my in-laws have time for my kids, the other grandkids are almost always present. We all get to hear of all the special events they share, of the grandparents' days at school, of the babysitting, of the overnighters, of the times Grandma and Grandpa take them to their timeshare property, of the clothes they buy them, of the toys they buy them, etc. My kids sit wide-eyed at the stories of fun and adventure. They never say anything about it. But it marks them. It scars them the same way it scarred me as a child. It wounds my wife.

I'm probably in a unique position. Because of my background, it's a bit easier for me to be aloof and remove myself from circles of people who don't want to have two-way relationships. It's tougher for my wife. My kids, as well.

I'm okay with not being accepted into my in-laws' family. I am saddened for my wife and for our children, however. They deserve better.

My wife is the most loving, compassionate, giving person I've ever known. My children are the best behaved, brightest minded, most thoughtful and polite children you can imagine. If you're related to them and make yourself too busy to spend time with them, I pity you your loss.

My children deserve better.

I will give them better. My job as their father is to protect and provide for them. That is exactly what I will do. I will protect my family from as many of the selfish, careless wounds that come from people who should know better. And I will provide them a loving, fulfilling environment in which they can thrive and grow into healthy, wholesome, loving young adults. It's a shame their grandparents, aunts, and cousins will miss out on knowing them as they grow up.

The Dispensable, Disposable Man... A Disjointed Rant

Nary a day goes by when I don't hear or read of the woes of motherhood, womanhood, or wifehood. No, not by my wife, for she's not a complainer. However, society has become a "safe place" for womanly complaining.

Ah, the stresses of the angelic mothers out there! They cook, they clean, they (gasp) care for their offspring.

Today I was made aware of a Facebook post by a woman who was bemoaning the myriad stresses in her life. She, apparently, has several children. She complained that they were all too young to prepare their own meals, clean up after themselves, or--I guess--contribute anything of value to the family. She listed the multiple responsibilities she had throughout the day, how she didn't have time to pamper herself, how she rarely wore anything but sweats and no makeup, and had to pump milk for her youngest child.

To be fair, she posted this expression of "feel sorry for me" in a moms' group on Facebook, obviously expecting to receive accolades from her semi-anonymous sisters in the struggle. I'm sure she received it, as sympathy for the plight of a sainted mother who draws public attention to herself is the societally correct thing to do.

The women who say and post such self-serving things are rarely wont to recognize the hard work and sacrifices of their partners. No, in fact, they will more often than not complain about them as well. In their self-absorption, they will not see the contribution of the man, and if it is ever brought up they'll simply say, "well, that's just his job."

Let me be clear. Motherhood is hard. I get it. It's not hard to see that motherhood has a lot of challenges. However, complaining about it simply undermines any sympathy or empathy an outsider might be tempted to feel for you. Not only that, but motherhood is not any harder for you than for the billions of other mothers out there. Seriously, what makes you think your situation is so unique?

And I will say this, too. Motherhood is not one iota more difficult, hectic, frustrating, exhausting, or undervalued than fatherhood.

GASP!

Yes, you can complain about your children asking for something the second you sit down in your easy chair. You can complain about your children throwing tantrums and making messes. You can complain that you have to take the time to do a biological function that your body was specifically designed to do. And you'd be right. Those things are all very frustrating.

But while you're in the comfort of your home, watching your television or, more likely, taking the time to complain on Facebook about your woes, your husband has been working in just as high-stress an environment. He may not have even had the opportunity to sit down once throughout his work shift. He may have been dealing with tyrannical customers, an overbearing employer, the fear of failure, obnoxious coworkers or worse. He may have been cursed at, treated with utter distaste, or insulted to his face. He may have spent hours in sales meetings designed to tell him that he's not selling enough while at the same time he faces the frustration that this very meeting is keeping him off the sales floor. But you don't see him stopping to post his woe-is-me moment on Facebook. No, he doesn't have time for that. If he took as much time to complain as you do, chances are he'd be fired.  You see, in many cases, the very fact that you have the time to tap out your frustrations on your computer or phone is a clear indicator that you're not nearly as busy as you think you are. Maybe you don't manage your time very well, or maybe you simply don't try as hard as you want everyone to believe.

And that man who puts up with all that nonsense throughout his day may want only one thing: to walk in and see the smiling faces of his wife and children and know that they're excited to have him home. But he can't have that. He has to stay focused on the job. He can't just give up and let it pile up, because if he does he'll lose the job he only goes to in order to support you. Most people in this country don't go to work because they love it. They go because they have to to make ends meet.

Think about this the next time you have an "I don't care" day and just throw up your hands and quit making an effort: If he let junk pile up on his desk the way you let laundry pile up at the house, if he just sat and played on Pinterest instead of doing what he was being paid to do, if he routinely became so emotionally overwhelmed that he couldn't function at work, he'd probably get fired.

Yet, he hasn't fired you for doing all those things, has he?

So, my not-politically-correct advice to you? Suck it up, Buttercup. You've got life a lot easier than you think you do.

I was recently thinking about a woman whose intention was to sign up for in vitro fertilization and bear a child out of wedlock. She had no man in her life who could or would be a father figure to said child. The woman simply wanted a child, so she planned to bypass familial norms and have one. Because she wanted one.

Because she wanted.

Alright, let me be blunt: there are many single parents out there doing the best job they possibly can. There are many single parents out there who desire the best for their children. There are many single parents out there who have been abandoned by their partners, and through no fault of their own, found themselves in the unenviable position of having to raise a child alone. The sad truth, however, is that the vast majority of single parents played a critical role in their singleness. Most relationships do not end solely due to the actions or decisions of one member of the couple. Most relationships end because both partners put themselves before the one they claim to love. Selfishness is the primary reason for breakups and is usually practiced by both partners prior to a breakup. Lack of forgiveness is a sign of selfishness as well. Sex with someone you're not committed to is an extreme form of selfishness.

All that aside, I'd like to address the concept of intentionally bearing a child you plan to raise on your own. Selfishness is the only reason to plan a scenario like this. A child who does not yet exist has no needs, therefore, the desire to "have one" is selfishness at its core. Studies universally show that children benefit from two-parent families in a healthy home environment. Even these very women who desire to go it alone are emotionally moved when they see a good dad doing what he's supposed to do and bonding with his kids. It's innate knowledge in all of us that a healthy family consists of a father and a mother lovingly raising their children together.

Some fathers, and--admit it or not--some mothers are unfit for parenting. Abuses occur, neglect occurs, selfishness occurs. Families do not always remain intact, and in some cases, the children are safer and healthier when one of the parents is no longer in the picture. However, this is the exception to the rule, not the rule itself.

Often, those who have been the children of such dysfunctional scenarios have a very jaded view of fatherhood. Frankly, in a culture that has gradually devalued fatherhood, the vast majority of children from broken homes live full-time with their mothers. Absentee fathers are often demonized by the mothers as a way of reinforcing their own sense of value. Children pick up on that and are further traumatized by the custodial parent's ongoing derision of the other parent, a parent the child inevitably considers a part of himself (look up Parental Alienation Syndrome for more information).

However, to choose to remain single, for whatever reason, and still decide to bear a fatherless child is the epitome of selfishness. To recognize that children should have a father but to intentionally deprive them of one, simply because you want to possess a child without the effort of a relationship is evil.

Being a good parent requires you to always place the needs of your child before your own. To selfishly choose to bear a child with the full intention of depriving him of both of his parents automatically, and forever, disqualifies you from being called a good parent.

I can't put myself back in the pictures...

Most of you know about my kids, Palin and Tiegen. There are pictures of them plastered all over my Facebook and Instagram accounts. I mention the latest silly joke Tiegen told us or the funny little adventures of our two-year-old daughter.

Some of you, not all, know of my two older sons, Adam and Isaac. Adam, my oldest son is in the US Air Force, serving his country. My second son, Isaac, is becoming an accomplished young drummer as he finishes high school. He's full of energy and promise. Both are really great young men, of whom I am quite proud. I love them with all of my heart.

I don't post about my sons often because we don't talk much. You see, their mom and I divorced a long time ago, and I haven't been much of a part of their lives. I missed the sporting events, the band competitions, the school dramas, and even my oldest son's ASAF Basic Training graduation. I have a couple of pictures from Adam's high school graduation, which I was so excited to attend. I was stunned to find myself reaching up to hug my oldest son, and looking eye to eye with my younger one!

As I was looking at photos today, I noticed that I, as the photographer, am not in very many. I have tons of pictures of my wife and the kids, a few pictures of my Adam and Isaac... but I'm in very few. With Krystal and the little ones, the reason is common. I'm the one behind the camera. Therefore I'm rarely in the frame. With my older sons, I'm not in the picture because... I'm not in the picture.

I failed to be a part of my older sons' lives. I failed to know them the way I should. I failed to meet their friends. I failed to meet their girlfriends. I failed because... I failed.

I post about fatherhood on Facebook. People comment about what a great dad I am, and I feel like a fraud.

After a divorce, it's so easy to blame one's former partner. It's so easy to look outside oneself to try to justify the negative implications of one's actions. But, it's rarely accurate. Sure, a severed relationship always has two sides. Both husband and wife make choices that lead to the ultimate demise of the bond. In the marriage, both my former wife and I had our failures. We've each moved forward and tried to pick up the pieces and make better choices.

However, in the case of my sons, the only failure was mine. I should have never let any obstacle stop me from being in my sons' lives. I should have never lived more than a few minutes away. I should have been there. I should have told them daily how much I love them. I should have been their confidant. I should have... I should have...

But I didn't.

And as I look at the few pictures I have of my boys, without me, I shed bitter tears.

You see, because I failed, my sons grew up and became accustomed to living without me. It wasn't their choice, but it is a cold hard fact. My sons grew up calling another man Dad. He was there. He was in their world while I was hundreds of miles away wondering how they were doing. There was never a day I didn't think of them, but there were far too many days that passed without my reaching out to them.

And I realize that I'll never be in those pictures. The ones of the boys unwrapping Christmas presents in someone else's house. The one of them standing outside someone else's new car. I'll never be in those pictures because I wasn't even there. I wasn't there because of my own foolish choices.

And I also realize that I'll never really be in the picture. When I look at the photographs I see my conspicuous absence. However, the boys don't. You see, the people who were active parts of their lives were all there. Their mom, their step-dad, their maternal grandparents, uncles and aunts, friends... They were all there. I wasn't, because of my foolish choices.

And I live in the thick middle of regret. I live in a prison of my own making.

I'm so happy with my wife, my step-son and my daughter. I love them all so dearly. And yet, there are two gaping holes in my heart. I watch from afar as they enjoy their lives and grow into amazing men. I swell with pride at their talents and achievements, but I realize I played no part in them.

I'll never be in those photographs. Maybe, just maybe, I can be in some of the future ones.

Take a look at your life. Take a look at the people who hold you dear. Make sure you're in the photographs of your kids' lives by being in the picture.

God hates divorce for many reasons. One of the biggest is because of the innocent victims who suffer because of the choices of two people.

A Letter to My Children

A few days ago I watched the reports of a young woman humiliating herself on television and it set my mind in motion.  As of the writing of this letter, I have one adult son who is in the military, one teenage son who is in high school, one six-year-old son in first grade, and one 9-month-old daughter who is just learning to walk and talk.  I'm proud of you all and love you more than my own life.  You are on my mind every day, even on those days when I don't seem to reach out to you the way I should.

I tried to choose an image from the singer's performance
that showed the inappropriateness, but was the least
crude in what it depicted.  This was the best I could
come up with.

After watching a video of this young pop star, I began to think about the condition of the world into which you will all one day find yourself released.  The moral codes, the political climate, the crime, the education, the economy... These are all things that concern a parent.  

I spoke to a young man with whom I work, and he made a statement that caught me off-guard for a moment.  In regards to the sexualized gyrations and skimpy clothing this young woman chose to display, he said, "Look, girls dress and act like that at clubs and bars all the time.  The only reason this is getting noticed is because there were cameras and media there."  It makes sense.  Her behavior didn't really shock young people.  It's us older people who are out of touch with the youth party culture who seem to be standing aghast at her antics.

Now, I spent some time in clubs.  But, that was years ago.  Things were a bit different then.  His comment made me realize just how far things have come since my earlier days.  

It's an age-old thing.  People who lack important life-nutrients always find ways of seeking those things out, even when they don't realize that's what they're doing.  Children raised without strong, loving, stable parents will find ways to seek acceptance that are often unhealthy.  It isn't a new phenomenon.  In this pop star's case, we see a girl who grew up with a semi-absentee father who (admittedly) wanted to be her friend rather than an authority figure.  She grew up lacking the leadership that comes from a healthy relationship with a father. 

Not only that, but this beautiful young girl grew up in an affluent family, surrounded by people who constantly told her how great she was.  It's the way Hollywood works.  We build people up to the point of ridiculousness, then we criticize their every move.  We celebrate their external aesthetic features rather than focusing on the inner qualities that make a person great.  It's a superficial, topsy-turvy process that leaves countless unprepared young people destroyed in its wake. 

You are my children.  You are my sons and my daughter.  I love you with every fiber of my being.  And because I love you, I have a few things to say.  I am not perfect, or always right, or the smartest man in the world.  I am not infallible.  Sometimes I blow it.  Sometimes I make a fool of myself.  However, here are some promises I make to you:

I'm not always going to tell you what you want to hear.  Though one of the greatest joys in my life is to see your smile, that joy is outweighed by the joy of seeing you make wise decisions.  Those wise decisions will cause you to experience long-term fulfillment and to have a solid reputation that will serve you well throughout your life.  So I might adamantly disagree with you.  Please understand that the starting point of any discussion we might have is I love you.  Those three words are the foundation of every conversation we have.  I would rather anger you by telling you the truth than to stand back and watch you walk headlong into an oncoming railroad train.  So, expect to be angry with me from time to time.  I promise, it's for your own good.

I promise you will never have to wonder if your father loves you.  I may not always be good at showing it, but I will do everything in my power to solidify the fact in your mind.  I would give up my life for you.  I want nothing more than to spend time with you and to see you live a happy life.  My entire existence is committed to helping you do better in this world than I have done.

I promise to always listen.  I know it might seem awkward to talk openly with your father.  I know your friends might not understand your ability and desire to unashamedly discuss things with your father, but I want you to know that you can.  I promise to let you say what's on your mind and heart, and actually think about things from your viewpoint before I respond.  I can guarantee it won't always be easy for me, but I will do it because what you have to say is important and does have validity.

I promise to not always let you have your way.  The old phrase "as long as you live under my roof" will be in full effect here.  You see, I bear a responsibility in the eyes of God to raise you to be godly adults.  Godly adults are not self-centered, materialistic, lazy, or disrespectful.  I've been all of those things at one point or another, but God has changed me.  My job is to model a godly attitude to my children and require godly behavior in my household.  

I promise to celebrate your achievements.  When you go above and beyond what is required of you, I will celebrate in ways that will be obvious and probably a little embarrassing. I won't throw a party every time you pass a class or every time you clean your room.  I will, however, make an absolute spectacle of myself when you demonstrate your skills, talent, fortitude, and passion.  People who are celebrated when they do their jobs rarely have an incentive to excel.  Not everybody who plays a sport is a winner.  Not everyone who shows up for work deserves a promotion.  It is when you put in extra effort and reach beyond the basic requirements of a situation that you can achieve greatness.  I will lavish you with praise when you do something honorable, difficult, selfless, or creative.  Do something that demonstrates the greatness within you.

I promise I'll always be there for you when things don't go your way.  Even when you've done what we all do, making dumb choices, I'll be there.  There is nothing you could possibly do that would stop me from loving you.  I will always stand ready to be a shoulder to cry on when your world crumbles.  I'm not just your dad when things are good.  I'm your dad.

I'm far from perfect.  I'm no superhero.  But I will move heaven and earth to be what you need in a father.

I want you to see that your value lies not in the performances you put on for other people, but in the character you display when no one is looking.  I want to show you that you don't have to lower yourself to others' standards in order to be accepted.  I want to teach you to be so connected to true love that you immediately recognize the myriad counterfeits the world will throw your way.  I want to point you to the Truth that comes from above rather than settling with the perceptions of man.

I love you and always will.

Dad

Everything Changes...

I'm sitting on my couch with my five-year-old stepson.  He's watching A Dolphin's Tale on DVD, wearing his Avengers pajamas and holding his lavender bunny.  I'm watching my wife.  She's lying on the loveseat deeply engrossed in whatever is on her cellphone's screen... probably Pinterest or something.  (Insert imaginary photo here.  You know, the photo that I just secretly took but am terrified to post without her permission.) Yep, she just texted me a photo she found on Pinterest.

It's moments like this that burn themselves into my mind with the intensity of white-hot steel, leaving indelible memories like the marks my old wood-burner left on pieces of pine during my youth.  These are memories cemented to my soul by the strongest adhesive ever--emotion.

My beautiful wife and I are expecting a baby.  She was actually due five days ago.  

This has been a rough pregnancy, with multiple trips to the emergency room and not a small amount of stress.    For the past week my wife hasn't been able to move the left side of her face due to the sudden onset of Bell's Palsy, adding substantially to Krystal's discomfort and stress.

Tomorrow everything changes.  Tomorrow the doctor will induce Krystal.  We're not sure how we feel about the induction, but considering some of the difficulties Krystal has been facing, the doctor thinks it's a good idea.

So, tomorrow we will finally meet our little Palin Nichole face to face.  Tomorrow will be her birthday, and my heart swells with the possibilities.  We've talked to her, sung to her, rubbed her back (or whatever was protruding from Krystal's abdomen) and prayed for her.  We're thrilled that she'll be in our arms by this time tomorrow.

I think about her future.  I think of how she'll look and the smell of her hair.  I think about how she'll drool as she grows and begins to teethe.  I think of her school years and boys and high school dances.  I think about the gift I will give her on her wedding day and the heart-rending pain in my chest as I walk her down the aisle to give her to her husband.

I think about our little family unit, and how it will never quite be the same.  I think about that beautiful lady on the loveseat and this great little boy beside me.  I think about my sons in Nevada, Adam and Isaac and the bridges that are being rebuilt there.

Everything changes.  Tomorrow marks not only Palin's first breath of fresh air, her first glimpse of light, or the first time we get to touch her skin.  It marks a paradigm shift in our family structure.  Everything we've come to see as "the norm" changes tomorrow.  

And I welcome it.  

I welcome her.

Palin Nichole Land

On Being A Dad

I have two natural sons.  One born in 1994 and one in 1998.  These boys have grown into really impressive young men.  My oldest son has recently graduated high school.  He is preparing to leave for Air Force basic training where he'll begin a career serving our country.

My younger son is an accomplished drummer.  He's still in high school, where his people skills and personality are gaining him a lot of attention.  My sons are articulate, exceptionally smart, have great senses of humor, and are a lot of fun to be around.  I love these young men dearly.

My wife has a son who was born just before we started dating.  He is now five years old and he knows me as Daddy.  He's a talkative little guy whose dream is to be a superhero.  He says that his favorite superheroes are, in this order, the Incredible Hulk (because he has huge muscles), Jesus (because he's the strongest of them all), and me.  

My wife and I married last August.  She is a wonderful woman and a great mom.  She's done an amazing job with Tiegen, and we're very excited about the upcoming arrival of our daughter, Palin Nichole.  She should make her debut around November 13.

I recently got the opportunity to attend my oldest son's high school graduation.  It was the first time I'd seen Adam or Isaac in a very long time.  I'd like to be able to say that I had a major role in shaping these young men into the people they are today, but I can't.  I haven't been there for them as I should have.  Thinking of the time and distance between us tears my heart out.  I have longed for those boys every day since before they were born.  Being separated from them by an unpleasant divorce never altered that fact.  Anyone who is close to me knows that there are times when I would just withdraw into myself and sit in silence because I could think of nothing but my sons.  I'm so grateful for the opportunity to begin rebuilding the bridges that time and distance have eroded.  As I recently sat across a table from them in a restaurant, I see that these are fascinating young men who, even if I weren't their dad, I would want to get to know.  The depth of their thought processes and the warmth of their personalities move me.  There's a light inside them that draws people to them.

My high school reunion is this week, and I was asked to write a short autobiographical record of the past twenty-five years.  As I sat down at the computer and pondered where I've been and what I've done, the most vividly emotional moments were those spent with Adam, Isaac, and Tiegen.  Jobs I've had and places I've lived fade into nothingness next to the memories built with these three guys.  Going to a little northern Nevada county fair with Adam when he was very little, rolling down a grassy hill with Isaac in a park in Oregon, building a "fort" and a cannon for them in Alaska, and splashing in a little plastic pool with Tiegen on a hot summer day.  This is my highlight film.  I haven't always been the best dad.  I haven't been where I needed to be when I needed to be there.  But the love I have for my sons is beyond description.

In November, Palin Nichole Land will be born.  Once again I'll be blessed to carry one of my children with paternal pride and introduce her to the world.  Once again I'll get the joy of watching through new eyes of wonder as she discovers things we've long forgotten.  Once again I'll share the blessing of cuddling with my little one.  I long for that day, and fear it as well.

I don't deserve the blessings who call me Dad.  Adam, with his depth and compassion.  Isaac, with his humor and unnerving wisdom.  Tiegen, with his inquisitive mind and thoughtfulness.  And now, Palin, who won't call me anything for a while.  God has truly blessed me, and I am grateful beyond words.

The Dog Went To The Park. (Or, How To Give Your Kid The Best You Have)

A simple sentence.  The dog went to the park.  Simplicity at its finest.  The hesitant hand that penned this sentence is that of my four-year-old stepson, Tiegen.

Tiegen is homeschooled by my wife, Krystal.  Along with Tiegen, Krystal "babysits" two other young children.  I placed the word babysits in quotation marks because I take issue with it.  Each morning, a local mother drops off her three-year-old and seven-month-old daughters at our home under the care of my wife.  So, on the basis of that alone, yes, she babysits.

Krystal, however, would never be satisfied with simply sitting home and making sure the kids don't get into the laundry detergent, or making sure they don't crack each other on the heads with plastic hammers.  That's not enough for her.  You see, my wife is a teacher.  It's not just what she does, it's who she is.  If you place her in a room with children for more than a second or two, those children are going to learn from her.  And she teaches in unique and fun ways--ways that resonate with the children.

When Krystal and I were first dating, I paid a visit to the preschool/daycare center in which she worked.  It wasn't the first time I'd been inside a center, as my mother ran several of them when I was younger.  However, being a bit older and... shall we say... less patient, I realized what a special type of personality it takes to operate in that type of environment.  I've often said if I were a daycare teacher, parents might arrive at the end of the day to find a neat little row of Hefty bags with name tags.  Obviously, I'm not cut out for that kind of work!

Krystal is.

Kids adore Krystal.  She is firm, but fun.  She challenges their imaginations and their sense of ingenuity.  She teaches them problem-solving skills.  She comes up with outstanding lesson plans and craft projects for them to do.

When we got married, we decided that Krystal should stay home with Tiegen and teach him.  We crunched the numbers and realized that if we brought Tiegen home from daycare and she took in two to three other children, she would actually be financially better off than she was while working as an underpaid and under-appreciated daycare teacher.  Add to that the benefits of being able to teach Tiegen with much more personal attention than he would receive in a daycare, and we decided it was the best way to go.

Tiegen's always been a sharp kid.  He shocks us with his memory.  For example, one day we were driving down the road and he said to me, "Daddy, do you remember when we went to the zoo, and I played in the water?"  I scoured my brain, searching my memory banks.  He continued, "Remember how there were these little holes and water would shoot out in my face?  Remember how I laughed and laughed?"  I was stunned.  That event occurred on his first birthday!  He was remembering something that had happened three years earlier, while he was still toddling around in a diaper!

However, Tiegen is learning at extremely accelerated rates.  I believe that is, in large part, because of the approach Krystal takes to his education.  In the former daycare setting, he was one of many kids whose activities were loosely monitored by bored and underpaid ladies who seemed like they would've preferred to be elsewhere.  He came home repeating words and phrases he'd learned from other kids and teachers that we found to be inappropriate.  He learned to push and shove, and that when reason fails, volume is the best way to get what he wanted.

Since he's been at home with Krystal, any adults who deal with him remark about how unbelievably polite and intelligent he is.  He is learning the values we hold dear in our family.

Not only that, there's a story behind the sentence you see in the photo at the top of this post.  One evening while waiting for me to arrive home from work, Krystal was in the kitchen cooking.  Tiegen said from the dining room, "Mommy, how do you spell went?"  Krystal responded as we always do, "Sound it out, buddy.  How do you think you'd spell went?"  A moment later, Tiegen excitedly bounded into the kitchen to show his mommy the sentence he had just written.  This four-year-old boy, whom Krystal assumed was playing with his toys in the living room, had sat down with his beloved dry-erase board and--unprompted and uncoached--had written a perfect sentence.  All at an age when many kids are speaking in baby-talk and struggling to learn letter sounds.  I attribute this wonderful success to Tiegen's intelligence and to Krystal's skills and passion as a teacher/mother.

I am writing this today because it's on my mind.  There is a vast and growing debate in our country about homeschooling.  Some say that homeschooled children suffer socially.  One man, while singing the praises of the public school system, told Krystal that children need to be pushed down by other kids in order to learn their place in the world.  He said sometimes advanced kids need to simply "dumb down" and be normal.  

Really?  Is that the kind of innovation that made this country great?  Is that the way to give our kids the tools necessary for success?  "Look, kid... I know you already know this stuff and it's really easy, but your classmates aren't at your level.  Therefore, you'll just have to sit through it until the rest of the kids catch up to you."  Sorry, Jack.  It doesn't work.  I've been there.  The high school from which I graduated had that same outlook.  It was torturous, and it certainly did not help me excel.  

Others say homeschooling isn't for everyone.  On this point I agree.  For example, the man of whom I just spoke wrote with the use of only one type of punctuation: the comma.  He seemed diametrically opposed to capitalization and grammatical rules.  This man has apparently settled for a life of semi-literate bliss.  He should not be teaching, as he is unqualified.  Krystal, on the other hand, is exceptionally articulate, reads the dictionary for entertainment, and is a thinker.  She makes an excellent teacher.

Homeschooling isn't for everyone.  However, standardized test scores among homeschooled children are quite impressive, routinely surpassing that of public school students by as much as 30 to 40 points.  Plugged-in parents can easily put their kids in social environments.  Tiegen is involved in Rainbows at church, has his daily playmates, and gets lots of playtime at the park...where he has shown a knack for being exceptionally caring and compassionate to the kids around him.

I find it fascinating that, as a nation, we spend more than $10,000 a year per student in public schools while the average homeschool family spends between $600 and $1000.  Yet, homeschoolers tend to score 30 to 40 points higher than public school students on the same tests.  Perhaps the socialized approach to education doesn't work, after all.  

I actually didn't write this entry to push the idea of homeschooling.  I wrote it to say how proud I am of my wife for the hard work she puts into raising a smart, happy, well-adjusted boy.  I recognize a special gift in her, and in him.  We have made this decision for our household.  It is not without its difficulties, but it is well worth the investment.

Thank you, Krystal, for being a great mom, a skilled teacher, and a wonderful wife.  I love you.

Oh, and by the way, here is a list of people you might recognize.  Each one of these people was homeschooled.  Enjoy.

·  President John Adams

·  President John Quincy Adams

·  President Grover Cleveland

·  President James Garfield

·  President William Henry Harrison

·  President Andrew Jackson

·  President Thomas Jefferson

·  President Abraham Lincoln

·  President James Madison

·  President Franklin Delano Roosevelt

·  President Theodore Roosevelt

·  President John Tyler

·  President  George Washington

·  President Woodrow Wilson 

·  Pierre du Pont

·  Benjamin Franklin

·  Alexander Hamilton

·  Patrick Henry

·  William Penn

·  Daniel Webster

·  Alexander the Great  - Greek Ruler

·  John Barry - Senior Navy Officer

·  Stonewall Jackson - Civil War General

·  John Paul Jones - Father of the American Navy

·  Robert E. Lee - Civil War General

·  Douglas MacArthur - U.S. General

·  George Patton - U.S. General

·  Matthew Perry - naval officer who opened up trade with Japan

·  John Pershing - U.S. General

·  David Dixon Porter - Civil War Admiral

·  Albert Einstein

·  Michael Faraday - electrochemist

·  Oliver Heaviside - physicist and electromagnetism researcher

·  T.H. Huxley

·  Blaise Pascal

·  Booker T. Washington

·  Erik Demaine - Popular Science Mag: One of the Most Brilliant Scientists in America 

·  Alexander Graham Bell - invented the telephone

·  John Moses Browning - firearms inventor and designer

·  Peter Cooper - invented skyscraper, built first U.S. commercial locomotive

·  Thomas Edison - invented the stock ticker, mimeograph, phonograph, and perfected the electric light bulb

·  Benjamin Franklin - invented the lightning rod

·  Elias Howe - invented sewing machine

·  William Lear - airplane creator

·  Cyrus McCormick - invented grain reaper

·  Guglielmo Marconi - developed radio

·  Eli Whitney - invented the cotton gin

·  Sir Frank Whittle - invented turbo jet engine

·  Orville and Wilbur Wright - built the first successful airplane

·  Hans Christian Anderson

·  Margaret Atwood

·  Pearl S. Buck

·  William F. Buckley, Jr.

·  Willa Cather

·  Agatha Christie

·  Samuel Clemens (Mark Twain)

·  Charles Dickens

·  Robert Frost - Pulitzer Prize-winning poet

·  Charlotte Perkins Gilman

·  Alex Haley

·  Brett Harte

·  C.S. Lewis

·  Amy Lowell

·  Gabriela Mistral

·  Sean O'Casey

·  Christopher Paolini - author of #1 NY Times bestseller, Eragon

·  Isabel Paterson

·  Beatrix Potter - author of the beloved Peter Rabbit Tales

·  Carl Sandburg

·  George Bernard Shaw

·  Mattie J. T. Stepanek - 11-year-old author of Heartsongs

·  Mercy Warren

·  Phillis Wheatley

·  Walt Whitman

·  Laura Ingalls Wilder