YONDER BREAKS

I'm the kind of person who always tries to find a reason for everything...traffic, a lackluster recipe, the existence of the universe. My wife assures me that everything doesn't have to have a reason, especially when it comes to why our kids may be upset or crying about something. "They must be tired," I reason, because if I can find a source for the issue, maybe I can find a solution. Whether she is right or not, I don't know (but she probably is ). So when it comes to difficulties in parenting -- and there are plenty -- it helps me get through when I can figure out why. Lately, we have been really struggling with the juxtaposition of our friends who don't have kids , with their routines and activities, against our largely at-home lifestyle with kids. Last weekend we went to a baby shower and noticed how the childless parents were enjoying long conversations with friends, eating leisurely, having a nice Saturday afternoon before their imminent date nights,...

I love songs like the one below by  House of Heroes , calling out us Americans and the dreams we pursue, ignoring whether or not the end goal is really worth all the struggle. In the end, we do something we hate for half our lives to afford certain comforts that we believe most Americans  should  have and enjoy. " The pursuit of happiness " you might call it. Is it freedom, or a form of slavery? But I say, "No way!" Comfort is the enemy! The problem is, that's an easy thing to say when I'm  comfortable... And here comes the trouble: my wife and I are about to head into a season of cutting back, and I've found myself lamenting the soon-to-be lost aspects of our lives that I enjoy, most of which are comforts. Eating out, buying random things we want, little trips around town. Expenses such as these will all be weighed for their worth before any hard-earned money is spent, and you know what? I don't like it. It feels good buy two pairs of sho...

I sat on my couch to read  a book that a friend recommended  to me, and didn't get one paragraph in before my daughter wanted to read too. Knowing the lack of pictures would not hold her attention, I still picked her up and placed her in the pocket between my arm and side, a perfect spot designed by God to keep your children while reading or watching TV or just simply to hold them. Well, it wasn't long before she started bending the book in half, and so I had to set her down. I finished the forward and felt a little guilty about choosing a book over her in that moment, and so I put the book down and picked her up to place her again in that magic pocket for some cuddle time. I'm not too much of a man to admit that the world "cuddle" makes its way into your vocabulary when you have a daughter, and will freely admit that sometimes I just want to hold my daughter in a warm, fatherly embrace and do nothing else. This could have been one of those rare "cud...