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Updated: 2013-03-05T07:00:45-05:00

 



Ten Years Ago

2013-03-05T12:05:36-05:00

Where were you ten years ago today? March 5, 2003. George W. Bush was in his first term. The USA had not yet invaded Iraq. It was a couple of weeks before Chicago would win best picture (yes, the movie...



The Russian Adoption Ban -- What Will You Do?

2012-12-31T12:07:20-05:00

A couple of days ago President Putin signed into law a response to the U.S. Magnitsky Act effectively bringing to a halt all adoptions of Russian children by American families. Nearly 50 children were simply in the last 30 day... A couple of days ago President Putin signed into law a response to the U.S. Magnitsky Act effectively bringing to a halt all adoptions of Russian children by American families. Nearly 50 children were simply in the last 30 day waiting period before going home, the courts having already declared them the children of the adopting families. Hundreds if not thousands of others are in the process. Let me say this first, keep praying for these children and families. If you know them, put your arms around them and give them love. We felt this in 2010 when, on the verge of going to court, Artyom Savlyev was placed on a plane back to Moscow from Tennessee and the world seemed to erupt around us. We have to keep hoping, praying and believing for these waiting children. But in a broader way, I've been asking myself since the ban was finalized, what can I do? I'm not a politician. I don't have the ear of Putin. I don't have the ability to change the story of the hundreds of thousands of orphans in Russian orphanages, many of whom have lost a chance for a family but so many others who never would've had that chance in any event. Or maybe I do. And maybe you too. How? We can find trustworthy organizations working with orphans in Russia and we can support the work of those groups. We can come alongside those who have laid the groundwork through investing time and resources over the course of many years, those who have relationships in place, those who minister to the whole person. Let me introduce you to one such organization. Children's Hopechest has worked with orphans in Russia since 1994 -- just a few years after the break up of the former Soviet Union. Here's a description of their programs in Russia: The ChallengeMany children in this vast and complex country are “social orphans.” While some have lost parents to death, many have been orphaned because of alcohol abuse, economic, or other social factors. In many areas of Russian society, the word “orphan” is often synonymous with “worthless.”The orphan story doesn’t end at the orphanage. As young teens, orphans face another crisis, one that threatens their future. This second crisis happens the day they “graduate” from the orphanage—on this day, their chances for survival are cut in half.According to the Russia Ministry of Education, the typical orphan statistics are grim:60% of orphanage “graduates” are unemployed or not in school50% use drugs and abuse alcohol60% fall into prostitution to survive15% take their own lives.Life in an institution has left them completely unprepared to manage simple tasks of life – or make good choices about relationships, who to trust, or how to spend their time. No guidance and no accountability mean no compass. Orphaned girls are especially vulnerable to prostitution and sex trafficking.The HopeChest SolutionChildren’s HopeChest provides the benefits of sponsorship to children who are living in orphanages. Sponsorship funds raise the level of care in a variety of ways. Most important are the relationships children form with their HopeChest Discipler and individual sponsors. The Discipler visits the orphanage on a regular basis, providing support and encouragement—and teaching them about the Father who loves them and will never forsake them.In addition, HopeChest provides over 1,000 orphans with protective services through our Ministry Centers, Family Centers, Independent Living Center Programs, and the Young Mothers Program. Girls and boys in these programs are not only safe, but loved and cared for by our dedicated staff.All HopeChest programs are designed to help these children beat the odds, to become productive citizens and mature Christian adults with healthy families of their own.For over 15 years, Children’s Ho[...]



Alex Day and the Adoption Ban

2012-12-28T12:57:05-05:00

We are in the car on our way to see Terri's family in Mississippi. In the back of the car are our three kids and our dog (who is a little antsy on the interstate). The kids are watching Yogi... We are in the car on our way to see Terri's family in Mississippi. In the back of the car are our three kids and our dog (who is a little antsy on the interstate). The kids are watching Yogi Bear (or "that Boo Boo show") as Alex called it. He got to make first pick because today -- December 28 -- is Alex Day. Every year we celebrate the day we first met each of our kids in their Russian orphanages -- Jacob on March 5, 2003, Stella on January 25, 2006 and Alex three years ago today on December 28, 2009. Three years ago but the memories are fresh the way memories tend to be of such emotional and momentous occasions as first meeting your new child. It was cold (December in Russia). We had been surprised to be traveling over Christmas. The orphanage workers brought Alex in to a brightly colored rug room to meet us. He came straight from a little Christmas party for the babies. He was dressed in a little black suit. He had ruddy red cheeks (an excema we've come to understand he gets every year about this time) and was very unsure of us, and especially me. He cried, he sat still, he looked inquisitively as we spoke in a different language, cried ourselves, and took pictures. Being the third time I'd been through this I knew enough to let Terri take the lead and slowly ingratiate myself to Alex through a mixture of toys and his curiosity of me as a man (a sight rarely seen in the baby house orphanages). After some time he was tired from the party and from this new meeting and it was time form him to sleep. He left, we kissed him and told him we were so happy to have met him, and that first meeting was done. Three years later here we sit. It took some work to get him home though that's another story altogether. Now he is happy. He just celebrated his 4th birthday in November. He was thrilled with what Santa brought for Christmas and he tells me what he wants to be when he grows up is a daddy. I have so many dreams for him like I do for all three of my kids. There really isn't anything I wouldn't do for them. They are each a miracle to me. And in all honesty they and their lives, like the lives of so many other of the tens of thousands of Russian orphans adopted by American families over the last 10 plus years are amazing stories of God's providence. I would be naive and arrogant to say none of the kids adopted by Americans wouldn't have succeeded if they had stayed in Russia. But it is the height of ludicrousness to argue that potential result to be anything other than the exception. Orphanage conditions are harsh, adoption is not looked upon favorably traditionally in Russia (though efforts are being made to change that), and the economic and political situation of the country makes adoption prohibitive for many. And so families like ours, blended families of Americans and Russians came to be and kids who would have had little chance got a chance to be blessed with parents and to bless us with children. For the foreseeable future that ended today. Today, three years since we first me Alex on that cold day in Russia, President Putin signed into law a bill known as the Dima Yakoklev Act. Cynically named after a little boy who died a terrible death after being negligently left in a hot car in Virginia by his father, the act purports to punish American human rights violators in response to a US act recently signed by President Obama called the Magnitsky Act, a law sanctioning alleged Russian human rots violators responsible for the death of a Russian whistleblower. But the Russian law reaches farther -- it bans all Americans from adopting Russian children, including bringing home children they have met, loved, and even been approved as parents by the Russian judiciary. It is a disastrous result for these families and these children. Children once again caught in the cro[...]



One year in

2011-09-02T11:14:12-04:00

One year is a measurement of time. So is 365 days. They are (generally speaking) a measurement of the same period. So is 365 goodnight kisses. But doesn’t that last one seem like so much more?



Holy Roar (from Terri)

2011-03-23T22:42:45-04:00

Way back when (in 2001 to be exact), Darren and I got the CRAZY hair-brained idea that, dog-gone-it, we were going to adopt our first baby from Russia instead of producing one the old fashioned way. Because really, who wants...



What are we thinking?

2010-02-18T22:10:53-05:00

Waiting. That’s where things stand right now as we move through the process of adopting again. It isn’t easy. It never has been. Having been through it twice doesn’t lesson the anxiousness of waiting between meeting our son in December...




2010-01-24T22:50:27-05:00

Tomorrow at the Moore house it is Stella Day -- celebrating the 4 year anniversary of the day we met our sweet little girl, Stella-Ruth. I can't believe it's been that long. At the same time, I can't believe there...



What did you say?

2009-03-19T00:37:49-04:00

So, 35 years old, some amount of gray hair (mainly in my beard), glasses with a prescription getting progressively stronger, tired muscles,a little excess baggage . . . and now loss of hearing! Well, today I fight back against this...



The end of an era

2008-09-18T14:14:57-04:00

So I don't know whether anyone really drops by here anymore except people conducting random Google searches, but perhaps I am going to write this as much for me as anyone else. Tomorrow morning we will officially close on the...



Four

2008-07-08T19:33:43-04:00

So our friend Syd emailed me asking where this post was since I wrote the post Six about Jacob turning six last week. Here it is. Stella turned four yesterday. We had her party on Saturday at the Howard Moore...

So our friend Syd emailed me asking where this post was since I wrote the post Six about Jacob turning six last week.  Here it is.

Stella turned four yesterday.  We had her party on Saturday at the Howard Moore Play Pool in Arlington (Arlington has lots of great pools like this) and I think all the kids had big fun.  I know I did.  I also took a tremendous number of pictures.  Then I took pictures of Jacob's baptism on Sunday (another post) and then we took pictures of the kids (and me) playing on the new Slip N Slide in the backyard (which won't be a post because me playing on the Slip N Slide does not merit attention).  Now my camera is full and I'm not sure I have room on the computer for all the pics which is one of the reason this post has no pictures -- the other being I've been kind of busy today and yesterday for loading those up.

Now then, where was I?  Oh right, Stella turning four.  On her birthday we gave Stella her gifts (with her favorite being a karaoke machine which she loves), went to eat at Souper Salad (her choice -- I think maybe her brother put her up to it) and then to play at Chuck E Cheese (where I dominated the Dallas Cowboys pinball game while Jacob dominated the Podracer game and Stella dominated the Deal or No Deal Game -- we're a family of great game players). 

Final word.  It's amazing that she's four now.  That's older than Jacob was when we went to Russia for Stella's adoption.  Wow!  But also, it is somewhat anticlimactic (maybe not the best word but that's what I'll use) because when she was three last week she thought she was 24.  Now that she's four she still thinks she's 24.  I tried to explain that 24 year old girls (at least the ones I've known) don't smear food on their faces when they eat or where day of the week panties but I'm not sure she's buying it.




Friends

2008-07-04T10:40:36-04:00

So Jacob has developed a number of friendships in our neighborhood. There are at least 5 or 6 little boys around his age who come over to play. They come to our house because we're the parents not yet ready...

So Jacob has developed a number of friendships in our neighborhood.  There are at least 5 or 6 little boys around his age who come over to play.  They come to our house because we're the parents not yet ready for our 6 year old to roam the neighborhood streets (much less his little sister).  We love having them over and getting to know them.  That said, they come over to play pretty frequently -- ringing the doorbell, knocking on the door, and then repeating when we don't answer because we are tired, asleep, having rest time, eating diner, etc.  But that's okay, because, seriously, they're just 6 or 7 years old.

And that brings me to this morning.  You can see the post immediately below this one and read a little about our night last night.  It included dinner, a movie, and late night ice cream for the kids in celebration of Jacob's birthday.  In fact we've been on the go since last weekend when we threw his birthday party and it doesn't stop yet because Stella's birthday party is tomorrow (yes, both kids have birthdays sandwiched around the 4th of July) and Jacob is getting baptized Sunday (which incidentally means we have family coming into town too).  Nevertheless this morning the phone rings around 8:45 (I think  -- immediately prior thereto our household was asleep).  No, it wasn't Jacob's 6 year old friends, it was our friends yelling into the answering machine (which is in our bedroom) to get up and come to the City of Arlington 4th of July Parade where they all are because they love their children instead o neglecting them the way we do ours by not taking them out.  See they had also told our kids all about the parade and that they should go trying to get our kids to talk us into going.  Guess what?  Our kids were still asleep (of course after a late night) when the phone rang -- but not long after that.

So I guess that's part of being friends -- knocking, ringing the doorbell, and calling at inconvenient times.  I'm glad I've figured that out now and to all our friends, I promise that now that I understand that, I will endeavor to be a better friend to you and your kids too.




Six

2008-07-04T00:11:36-04:00

On July 3, 2002, a woman we know only as Lydia walked into a hospital in the city of Ryazan in Russia and gave birth to a little boy. Today we celebrated our son Jacob's birthday with him for the...

On July 3, 2002, a woman we know only as Lydia walked into a hospital in the city of Ryazan in Russia and gave birth to a little boy.  Today we celebrated our son Jacob's birthday with him for the sixth time.  Happy Birthday Jacob!  And thank you Lydia.

Jacob is an incredible kid.  We've got pictures from his Star Wars Jedi Training Birthday Party held last weekend (billed by at least one little girl attendee as the best birthday party she'd ever been to).  I'd show you now, but frankly, I am too tired to get up and go to the other computer to get to the pictures.  It's been a long day from opening presents before I left for work to dinner at Jacob's choice of restaurant (the Long John Silver/A&W Combo on Park Row) to Wall-E at the movies to ice cream.  Big fun for all.  Pictures soon.  And more posts.  I've decided that I now have a lot to say again.




Jacob gets it

2008-05-20T12:40:28-04:00

We left the house this morning for our normal five minute ride to school, only a couple of weeks left for Jacob in kindergarten and Stella in the 3yo class. Here was the conversation I had with Jacob (Stella listening...

We left the house this morning for our normal five minute ride to school, only a couple of weeks left for Jacob in kindergarten and Stella in the 3yo class.  Here was the conversation I had with Jacob (Stella listening intently):

Me:  Guess what guys, did you know Holly is having Baby Kolby this morning?

Jacob:  So that's his name, Kolby?

Me:  Yep.  They'll have Kyley and Kolby.

Jacob (very serious):  I wonder how they're gonna deal with all that?

Me (laughing):  That's a good question Jacob.  I'll bet they'll manage.

Jacob:  So where's the baby now anyway?  Where's it grow really?

Me:  Well, a baby grows in a woman's uterus.  It's near her stomach which is why a pregnant lady's stomach looks big.  The baby isn't in the woman's stomach, it's in her uterus.

Jacob:  Momma's never gonna have a baby in her uterus.

Me (again laughing):  You're right about that Jacob.  Momma gets her babies in Russia or maybe another country next time.

Stella:  We're Russians!

Jacob (matter of factly):  I bet our little brother is about 7 months old by now.  I hope he's doing good.

Me:  You're probably pretty close Jacob, and I hope he's doing good too.

And then off he ran to his next to last week of kindergarten.




10 Years

2008-05-16T14:37:41-04:00

Ten years ago today Terri and I were married. What a crazy thing to sit here and look back on those ten cycles of life. Those two kids in the pictures look like memories in many ways now as we...

Ten years ago today Terri and I were married.  What a crazy thing to sit here and look back on those ten cycles of life.  Those two kids in the pictures look like memories in many ways now as we raise our kids, work at our jobs, and walk down life's path together get drug down life's path by our children. 

Last night being the sentimental slob I am, we sat and watched our wedding video and looked through boxes of cards and letters and notes we had exchanged over the past ten years, both of us intermittently laughing at something the other had said (more often than not because of how different the words sounded than who we know the person to be now) and apologizing for not being so loving/affirming/present with our emotions and praise as when we were first married.  But I think that is probably not so unique.  The courtship, the honeymoon, the newlywed years are all memories, but it has been fun to look back on them and realize the love we feel for one another now took root in those nascent forms sprouting into a deepened commitment, respect, and shared admiration. 

These pictures are evidence that yes, we were once cheesehead newlyweds.

(image) Click on the picture and you'll see a blurry copy of a note Terri wrote me on our wedding day May 16, 1998.


(image)
This one is a page out of my Daytimer (i.e. long before the Blackjack) showing the month of May including "Our Wedding Day!).  Time truly flies.  Can't wait for 10 to turn to 20.




A few pictures from Easter morning

2008-03-26T08:29:09-04:00

On Easter morning we woke the kids up early and drove to the park. We'd been reading different parts of the Passion Week story to the kids each day during the week and had talked to them the day before... On Easter morning we woke the kids up early and drove to the park.  We'd been reading different parts of the Passion Week story to the kids each day during the week and had talked to them the day before about Holy Saturday and the hope of Easter morning.  It was cold and a little windy but we sat and read about the empty tomb on the first Easter Sunday, lit our Easter candles (our family tradition -- each candle tells us something of Jesus we learn from the cross and resurrection), and then sat under a blanket to watch the sun rise. After our family sunrise service, after church, and after eating too much lunch, we went down to the zoo to take a few pictures of the kids in their Easter clothes.  Our kids, like most, like to overpose and oversmile, so I thought it might be best to let them smile more genuinely and try to catch them in the act.  Here are a few of the better ones.            I think there is something about enjoying God's creation (which they both certainly do) that is right, especially on Easter morning. (By the way, take that SydCham -- we have pictures too). [...]



Lost and Found

2008-02-21T21:41:17-05:00

It's easy for me to get lost. I can't really claim to ever have had much of a sense of direction. I'm easily turned around in my own hometown sometimes, much less when I'm traveling. In 1997 Terri and I...

It's easy for me to get lost.  I can't really claim to ever have had much of a sense of direction.  I'm easily turned around in my own hometown sometimes, much less when I'm traveling.  In 1997 Terri and I were working at a camp in Livingston, Texas.  It was July.  We had just met in May.  She was "in a serious relationship."  I was seriously taken with her.  That weekend in July she told me she had ended the "serious relationship."  I couldn't stop thinking about things on my way to pick up some folks at the Houston airport.  Would she go on a date with me?  Where should I take her?  When should I propose.  You know, normal stuff!  The next thing I knew I was just outside of Galveston.  On our honeymoon Terri was asleep in the rental car as I drove us back from Asheville, North Carolina to Charlotte, North Carolina to catch our return flight.  Thinking about our new life, I knew something was amiss when I saw the Welcome to South Carolina sign as we passed it.  So there's a pattern there I suppose, and really, I shouldn't blame it on her.  I just tend to get lost, especially when distracted.  Not much has changed in that regard.

A few friends have asked what's going on lately.  We haven't conversed as much, I haven't written much here.  I've been distant, isolated.  It's an easy place for me to be.  Totally wrapped up in the here and now of life to be lost to the stuff of life.  But then I see the sign.  The one that says Galveston, Texas or Welcome to South Carolina.  The one that reminds me I'm not at all where I thought I was.  This post from Tom Davis' blog was that sign for me today.  100 people newly infected with HIV/AIDS in Russia every day.  That's 900 between the time Tom wrote his post and the time I read it.  900 lives changed forever.  And that's just Russia.  As I left work tonight there was a sharp chill in the air from a cold front that had moved in while I worked inside.  Driving home I wondered about the couple of guys who sleep in a makeshift tent just inside the tree line off of the downtown spur.  And I remembered where I live.  A world where things are not right.  A place where not everyone has a home, where disease and hunger and dirty water rob so many of basic necessities.  And I wondered at where my mind had been.  At where I had devoted so much of my mental focus and attention.  And I repented.  I repented of house lust, of spending too much time daydreaming of our next vacation, and giving every waking thought (seemingly) to work.  And it felt good.  And right.  And maybe the direction will stay clear for a little while.   




Why We Don't Celebrate Valentine's Day

2008-02-14T12:54:09-05:00

With everyone's favorite Hallmark Day upon us, it is time to bring back up this post Terri wrote a couple of years ago. A classic in my opinion (and just so you know, she is going to dinner tonight with... With everyone's favorite Hallmark Day upon us, it is time to bring back up this post Terri wrote a couple of years ago.  A classic in my opinion (and just so you know, she is going to dinner tonight with her publisher and co-authors . . . so honestly, we don't celebrate it)!  Enjoy. Posted by Terri: At my insistence, Darren and I do not celebrate Valentine’s Day. I don’t want flowers, candy, jewelry, a card: seriously I don’t want anything. His friends sometimes laugh at him with comments like, “You’re going to be in big trouble. They always say that and then get mad if you don’t get anything.” (“They,” I assume represents all women; and the only other thing I can assume from a statement like that is that all women are manipulative liars who only want you to buy them stuff?) The reasons for my aversion to everything Valentine are many and follow in a random “stream of consciousness” style. First of all, I am practical to a fault. Flowers die. And I appreciate them much more when they are the result of an independent thought, not the result of media bombardment and social pressure. Chocolates disappear after a day or two while the consequences of eating them remain with me (to be specific, they remain on my hips) for weeks. I don’t like or wear a lot of jewelry and I refuse to wear anything with hearts (unless my son gives it to me). Not to mention the fact that we share a bank account. Maybe I would rather put that money towards a mortgage payment or give it away to someone who doesn’t have a house? And I don’t want a card that someone else wrote and Darren just signs his name to (which he never does). What I do appreciate are those random notes that I get on a day like April 6 or September 18, that he crafted himself and that say the really important things that I need to hear (which he always does). Other things I appreciate: a clean kitchen every night, help with the laundry, the trash taken out, Jacob bathed and in bed every night, good conversation with my husband where my opinion is valued and sought after, consistent support and encouragement to fulfill my dreams…just to name a few things that Darren does consistently that are way better and communicate much more clearly than a stupid box of chocolates. Valentine’s Day just feels like one more tool of Society to put me in a box that I don’t fit in. Society tells me I’m a female so of course I love all the things that his friend Mass Media is telling my husband to buy me. And if said husband doesn’t buy me said gifts on said day then I should certainly doubt his love for me…... NUTS! It can also be a hugely hypocritical day where men (or women, let’s be fair) who are generally unloving, jerkish types suddenly think that some cute gift and a romantic dinner can make up for the other 364 days of unacceptable behavior. Not to mention the amount of money our country spends on Valentine’s Day, as if there is one American that needs more stuff or chocolate. We could probably put a big dent in world hunger if we all decided to redirect the money we spend on Valentine’s Day. The bottom line is that I just don’t like the boxed up message of the day that love and romance can be bought and sold and that it looks exactly the same for every couple. Forced, pressured romance isn’t true romance. Now if there are any men out there reading this, please don’t take this as an encourageme[...]



How much water is in that glass?

2007-10-08T00:22:12-04:00

This year is in the top two of my busiest at work. The other year, though, was before we had kids. That makes this year the toughest I can remember. I am often behind, home late, up early, backing out... This year is in the top two of my busiest at work.  The other year, though, was before we had kids.  That makes this year the toughest I can remember.  I am often behind, home late, up early, backing out of various commitments, and generally trying to keep up.  I recognize the patterns.  I know the near impossibility (though notice how I still can't concede the slight possibility) of being superman both at work and home.  Yet it continues.  In part because I lack complete control over my schedule and in part because I allow it.  And so lately I've been pondering the glass and what is in it.  Some days (all too many lately) I see a glass half empty.  I look at my day like this:  Wake up much too early, shower and dress, work for an hour at home, make lunches, wake up the kids, get them dressed, fix breakfast, find odd tasks needing done around the house until school time, drive the kids to school, arrive at work (having already answered a couple of emails and had a call or so on the way in), beat my head against the wall that is my job lately, come home, eat dinner and talk to Terri and the kids, wash dishes, clean up the dog yard (use your imagination), take out the trash, pick up toys, bathe the kids, read them books and put them to bed, grab a quick workout, take a shower, and retire to the couch with Terri for DVR'd programming and some type of stiff drink.  Go to bed and wake up to do it all again. The same day, when the glass is half full (in a shortened version) goes something like this:  wake up, enjoy a quiet house and time to get some work in, spend quality time with my kids getting to take a substantive role in parenting as I fix them breakfast and get them to school, go to work where I get to work with very intelligent and hardworking people on intellectually challenging and competitively stimulating legal work for good clients, come home at a decent hour to a home-cooked meal (cooked by Terri who has had a full work day herself), enjoy time with her and the kids, read books with my children who just love spending time with me, get in some exercise and watch whatever I want on tv. Those are two very different outlooks, but it is the same day.  The difference of course is attitude, and attitude, I've discerned, depends on so many factors both within and outside of my control.  But recently I've been thinking a lot about time.  I have the common habit of filling up every waking minute with something, leaving no room for nothing.  No room to just waste time by myself or with others.  No time to just sit.  And for me, that's critical.  I've heard some people talk about margins, leaving extra room in your life.  And so I'm trying  . . . and finding habits are hard to break. This weekend was a weekend of creating margins.  We went to Livingston to visit friends at Camp Cho-Yeh.  Jacob and Stella played with a new friend, Ian, we stayed up talking to our old friends, Matt and Angie, Thomas, Patricia and others late into the night (or rather early into the morning), and I didn't get tired or irritable.  I watched football.  We watched the sky change colors at sunset.  And we rested.  And it was good.  There's something to that. Now it is Sunday night.  I got half a dozen emails this weekend on projects needin[...]



Are You My Mother?

2007-10-02T23:21:03-04:00

When we brought Jacob home from Ryazan to live with us in Texas he was 10 months old. Sometime within the first 12-18 months of him living with us, we acquired (I don't say bought because frankly I don't know...

When we brought Jacob home from Ryazan to live with us in Texas he was 10 months old.  Sometime within the first 12-18 months of him living with us, we acquired (I don't say bought because frankly I don't know how we got it) the book Are You My Mother? by P.D. Eastman.  Oddly enough Jacob never really liked it.  In fact, he often cried if we tried to read it to him.  Terri and I always found it strange in an ironic sort of way that he was so sensitive about a baby bird searching high and low asking all he would meet, "Are you my mother?"  But he was sensitive about it so the book was shelved in favor of books about dogs and trains and dinosaurs and pirates. 

I bring all this up now, more than 4 years later because tonight Jacob insisted we find the book Are You My Mother.  Apparently his kindergarten class read it last week at school.   Being the dutiful father I am I found it (in Stella's room to no surprise).  And here is the crazy part . . . Jacob read it to me.  For the first time, he read a book.  It wasn't memorized and he couldn't make out every word without help, but he slowly and steadily made it through 62 pages of the story of baby bird searching for his mother and finding his way home.  I can't believe our little boy is learning to read and has learned so much already.

And most of all I am stunned that the first book he ever finished was this book.  That he read with me.  After I searched high and low for him and he looked for me.  And we found each other.  At home.  Together.

This Dad stuff can be pretty cool.




A must read

2007-09-27T17:16:00-04:00

I am well aware of my lack of content here, and all I have to say is you'll have to live with it for now. BUT . . . in the meantime, you need to read this post from my...

I am well aware of my lack of content here, and all I have to say is you'll have to live with it for now. 

BUT . . .

in the meantime, you need to read  this post from my friend Thad, soon to be a new dad again.