I was recently a pallbearer in one of my best friend's funeral.   It was a great honor, but one I wish I never had.   I wish I could replace that honor with another night of trading insults and discussing the Cubs.   Remember to hold your family close, never lose touch with a great friend, and always tell those close to you that you love them.  

As we carried him to his final resting place, I kept hoping against hope that it was an elaborate joke (if you knew the guy you would understand.)   I don't know how many times I have wanted to dial his number to get one last conversation in .   Life is short, friendships are precious, and a strong belief is priceless.   It doesn't stop the hurt, but it provides hope and some peace.  

I miss him so much.

The Good Samaritan

I read the illustrated Bible with you, Cruz, most nights.  Last night we read teh story of the Good Samaritan.  I am not a biblical scholar, but basically it's a story of a man who is found injured in the road.   Jesus asks his followers who acts as the mans neighbor in the context of "Love thy Neighbor".

*for the record, if you got a score of 1-10 on being a Christian, I would be a 5.5 and trying to improve, but I am trying to give my kids a head start on being better than me.  In no way am I trying to preach here, but I guess I do try to preach to my kids assuming that I know more than they do for the moment, even though they can understand 100 times more than I can. My 5.5 assumes that half the world doesn't know Jesus at all, therefore giving me .5 better than average.  That alone probably proves the point that I don't know enough to be worthy.

I read to you about the preacher passing the man, then the healer passing the man, and finally the random dude who is not deamed worthy coming upon the man and giving him help.  He takes him to the inn, shelters and bathes him, and pays the innkeeper to keep him safe.

Then out of nowhere, you  tell me that if you ever found your friend Liam in the dirt you would, "walk to my house and get a bicycle... but I don't know how to ride one so I would walk all the way to the farm and get a horse Then I would take the horse to Liam and help him get on it and take him to the hospital and God would see it and be happy."

Wow, what an amazing understanding for a little kid.  Bonus cute points for realizing that you don't know how to ride a bicycle, and for converting to a horse (by the way, you aren't really familiar with horses either, but I like the effort.)

Then we prayed about being good people and helping others.  Then you cried.  It was an amazing thing because you cried because you realized you were not a good boy at school, and didn't help others.  You promised to apologize to Ms. Dana the next day and do better.

You didn't do better the next day, but I still appreciate the thought.  It's amazing the way you grasped the story, applied it, and at least intended to be better because of it.  You are only 4 so I don't expect too much, but I am so proud of the little man you are threatening to be.  What a dude.

You are a leader.

It just about crushed me the other day when i found out that Cruz had been in trouble for talking too much during class, distracting others, and leading other kids into doing the same. Not becuse I thought it was a terrible thing, but because I knew where the blame was going.  I never had a teacher-parent interaction that didn't include that.  I never had a report card that didn't indicate that.  Worst of all, your mother never had that on her report card.

Dad is to blame.  I like attention. In fact, I love it.  I lovc being at the center of the story, the attagonist, and the star.  Life is boring when you are entertaining yourself.  I will warn you now that if you don't learn to control it, it will be a part of your life forever.  I am 33 now, and every time we get around a group of people your mother accuses me of it.  So here are my thoughts.

1. Learn to control it- You don't need to be the star of every show.  People grow tired of it, and can resent it.
2. Respect your teachers-  They need you to not be an asshole, becuase if you are, then everyone will be. Some of your teachers will be great people that just want a little help, or at least not a hinderence.  Take your current teacher, Ms. Dana, for example.  She is in charge of 20 4 years olds.  When you are a punk, it means others will follow you making her job harder.  She is a great young lady.  I wish her the best, and by that I mean not having to deal with 20 4 year olds.  She does it with grace, but man, that has to be awful.
3. To thine self be true-  I think that is Shakespeare... but your mom is the English teacher.  Look, I want to tell you that you need to tone it down, fall in line, and get with the program.  My problem is that I never did.  I still don't.  I don't feel bad about it at all.  I like to be at the center of the story, and I like to have eyes on me.  It's just about the best feeling in the world to me to have a crowd in the palm of my hand.  It's part of what makes me succesful and it's part of what I love about being me.
*side note- people hate phrase like "what I love about being me".  I think that is because they have never let themselves be happy with who they are.  I like me.  I think I am pretty awesome in fact.  Is that arrogant, self centered, or proud?  Probably.  I don't care.  I would take "liking me" over "self loathing any day."

Long story short... try to find the happy middle between being a clown and loving a crowd.  You are going to offend some people along the way, and you are going to have some good times.  I can't bring myself to tell you to try to be a wallflower.  Some lights are meant to shine.  I hope you figure out when they should sooner than I have.  It will suit you well.

Here we go again...

It's been a long time since I fired up the old blog.  You have grown!  You are now a little dude.

It's been about two years since I have posted to this blog and man, have things changed!  You are now brother!  This little girl has infected every part of our life and made things better, cooler, and way more hectic than things were in the past. 

So at this point I would love to announce that the blog name is lessonsformykids, by that is taken so you are going to have to deal with it.  At the same time, I can no longer post this just to my little dude, Cruz.  Now it's going out to Cruz and Mila!  What  a trip.  Mila, sorry but you will have to check out your mom's blog to see how the first year of your life went.  Here's a synopsis, you slept, cried, pooped, stood, and crawled.

What follows is a list of lessons I want to teach you kids.  I hope this helps.

Don't Yell at People

I have worked retail.  I have worked insurance.  I am a husband.  I am a father.

You can not scare, intimidate, or persuade me through yelling.  I have mastered the art of finding a small dead space in my mind that I will hang out in while you get through your anger.  You know what I have found?  Most others have as well.  When it comes to a point that most people freak out you can earn credibility by not doing so.

When you want to freak out and yell at someone, remember a few things:
1.  They might not be able to change your situation.
2. If you piss them off, they will choose to not change your situation.
3.  If you piss them off, they might choose to make your situation worse to prove a point.
4.  The lower the income they make from you, the more likely they are to not care.

Unless you have Jerry Maquire influence on those you want a resolution from, you will be better off with kindness and understanding.  Also, if this is a person that you will have to deal with again, remember that they will remember you and if you give them a reason to, they will punish you.  Much like I punish commas for never learning the proper place to use them in a sentence.

Keepin' up with the Jorgensen's

I find myself at a wierd crossroads in my life.  I have always considered myself to be someone who is unafraid to blaze his own trail, make it on their own, and do thier own thing.  So what have I done?  I have followed three generations of my family into business and now I am working on a hobby that at least two generations have done.  So what do I want for you?  I want you to do your own thing, and I hope it is one of the previous two.

I had the room next door to your uncle Gabe when he was learning guitar.  It was a terrible experience.  I know the Stevie Ray Vaughn song "Little Wing" by heart and I never even liked it.  I heard Gabe butcher every note, chord, and rythem until it was perfect.  According to my memory that took 17 years.  Gabe is a badass guitarist.  He can play with Jimi, Clapton, Stevie Ray, and all the greats.  He can listen to a song once or twice and within a couple tries play it back at least 90% right.  Why do I mention this?  I bought a guitar.

I went to Bob's Guitars about a month ago.  I called Gabe first to see what I needed.  He said, "Wait for me. I will come up next weekend!"  Not soon enough I said.  I had gotten your mom's approval and I wanted to move while the moment was at hand.  "I can be there in 2 hours!" Gabe implored.  Not soon enough I said.  I was in front of the store and couldn't wait that long.  So Gabe told me to look for a guitar with good action, a trust rod, solid tuning pegs, and other things I didn't understand.  I ventured into the store and told them I wanted a guitar around $300.  The long haired guitar guy said, "Cool man, let's check some out."  He had been in a skateboarding accident and broken his femur, so he hobbled along with a single crutch explaining body compostion, action, trust rods, and a bunch of things I didn't understand.  Then he set up a stool, not the pooping type, and  put up about 6 guitars into stands.  "Just jam man, see what feels good.  Hear how they sound.  Find the one that's good for you, man."

I sat down and grabbed the first one and started to jam... by that I mean I played the two chords I remember from when I was 14 and Gabe tried to teach me to play.   You can't tell much about a guitar with the G7 and the D major it turns out.  So long hair skateboard guy asked if I wanted to jam on them so I could get a feel for the sound.  I said, "Yes."

He jammed.  I looked at which ones looked cool.  I talked myself out of the $700 Martin guitar I wanted because I am afraid of your mom.  I bought a $300 Takamene guitar because Gabe said Garth Brooks played one.  I like Garth.  I told Ash I would spend about $300.  It looked cool.  It didn't sound "tinny" which Gabe said to make sure of.  Perfect.  I had a guitar. 

I told long hair skateboarding guy I needed a case and some picks.  He said, "For sure man."  I paid for it, and then I realized that you could sit on a guitar case and thought that maybe I should have gotten a stand instead.  I asked if I could exchange them.  Long haired skateboarding guy said "For sure, man."  He grabbed a stand, told me it was cheaper than the case, and said "Here you go, man".   I asked if we needed to do paperwork... and this was the moment that I knew I had just bought a guitar in a guitar shop.  He said with a chuckle, "It's close enough for Rock and Roll, right?"

Yes.  It is close enough for Rock and Roll.  I own a guitar.  I am now a musician.  I now will be able to blow your mind with music.  Except it isn't that easy.  We will get into that later, but for right now it's close enough for Rock and Roll, man.

Life Insurance Family

Parents bring work home with them, and it effects the conversation around the house. That is why Rex and Rob Ryan are coaches like their dad Buddy Ryan who was the defensive coordinator with the Chicago Bears. Bill Belicheck and the brothers Harbaugh are coaches kids too. I can't say that these dads meant for their kids to follow in the family trade of coaching, but they did. I don't know that these dads taught their kids on purpose, but kids learn things. They learn defensive schemes because dad thinks they are important and because osmosis is a bitch sometimes.

On a way less awesome level that is why I am from a life insurance family. My Grandpa Don brought it home and exposed my dad just like my dad in turn exposed your uncle Gabe and I. I don't think my dad ever intended for us to be in the business, and I know mom wasn't super excited about it, but yet here we are. You will not have the benefit of learning why Buddy Ryan dropped the strong safety into the box thereby creating the 4-6 defense that catapulted the '85 Bears into football immortality, or the intricacies of football wizardry that make Jim and John Harbaugh elite NFL head coaches.

So this is what you will get. People die. People that die after thinking about their family's well being without them die with a greater sense of peace, and you should be able to openly discuss life without a parent or spouse. What a bummer for you, huh? I knew what my parents wanted for me if they were gone before I knew what a free safety's responsibility on trips left ace formation was. The fact is I talk to people for a living now about what they want for there kids if they are gone, and I still don't know what the free safety should key on (although the rule of thumb would be that no one gets deeper than him.) I make a living talking to people about when they die (life insurance), when they wreck their car or their house burns down (auto and home insurance), or when they get cancer or break bones (health insurance). Wow my job felt more fun until I typed that out.

My Grandma J, who was one of the most important people in my life, passed away a few weeks ago. I was of course really shook up and shed my share of tears, but because we were a life insurance family I was never that sad. I was in the room when Grandma J took her final breaths. I was watching her in fact. I always knew I would be there when she passed. We were close like that. When I realized she was gone I was instantly ready for the next steps of moving on like getting her funeral plans from her nursing home room, and calling my brother. I instantly had a a flash back to Grandma J telling a very young little Beau, "Your body is just the vehicle for while you are here. When your body dies you get to go to heaven and see all the friends and family that you have been missing." So there I was just having seen Grandma J pass away in a mortal sense and within an hour feeling happy for her that she was with Grandpa Don now, and just a little sad for myself that I couldn't stop and see her next weekend.

Being from a life insurance family means you will have a little more perspective on the fragility of life, and life after you or without your mom and I. You will probably be exposed to conversations that would make most kids really weirded out and they might weird you out as well. Just know that at some moment they might bring you peace. They will not however make you feel any better when you see the strong safety bite on play action as the slot receiver runs a post pattern right behind him to cost the Bears the game.

*I am posting this a few months after it was originally posted.  At the time I wrote it I was trying to convey a sense of strength in dealing with the death of Gramma J, who is one of my heroes.  The life insurance family part is true.  The unique perspective of a family who talks about death is true, but there is one thing I missed. I think it is because I wasn't ready to admit it yet.  Death sucks.  I miss Gramma J every damn day.  I often think back to her holding you, Cruz, and the way she wouldn't say anything.  I think she was so overwhelmed with the happiness, pride, and joy that you brought that she didn't have the words.  Life is fragile and things mean more as you get older.  I thank God every day that she got meet you, and that I got to be a part of it.  I was lucky enough to see that.  I hope I live every day looking at you and your mom that way.  Overwhelmed with the joy of family.  Don't fear death.  Don't let the end cloud the moment, but always appreciate the moment at hand.  I miss that woman.  I miss my Gramma.  I want to call her at least once a week, but I never live in regret.  She knew how much I loved her, and I her as well.  Live that way.  It's worth it.

Be Cautious

Not every asset is advantageous, and not every skill is good to have. Not in every situation at lease. Some times what you have will make you desirable for the worst occasions, and what you know will make you desirable for the worst jobs. Learn or do the following at your own peril.

Own a truck: I used to own a 1997 Ford F-150. It was a pretty sweet ride. It was black with chrome wheels and running boards. It got about 14 miles to the gallon, but your mom and her roommates were impressed when I pulled up in it on our first date. Here's a fun side note. Your mom's roommate at the time was your Aunt Kelly whom I also had my first ever college class with. Just for fun you should ask her who had the better grade in that class (here's a hint: Me). So while owning a truck that has horrible gas mileage and a little bit of chrome might impress teenage girls from Butler County it also appeals to a much less desirable demographic. People that need to move.

Around that same time that I was meeting your mom I also had a lot of friends graduating. I of course had another semester because I had a really hard major... or something like that. Owning a truck makes you infinitely more attractive when others need to move. "Don't worry," they say, "there will be beer and pizza." The funny thing is I was almost done with college. Beer and pizza were two subjects I could have had a masters degree in by that point. If you own a truck people will make that offer even once you are gainfully employed and have cash. It's like they don't realize you know you can afford to buy your own beer and pizza! Even the good kind like Bud Light and Pizza Hut (which you will find out as you get older and make more money aren't that good.)

Now here's the real kicker to the deal. I fully expect you to help them. I expect you to help carry that TV and dresser, the couch from the basement, and even the washer and dryer from the room furthest from the door and around 3 flights of stairs. Why? Because that is the person you should be. Always ready to help.

That or sell the damned truck and buy something with reasonable gas mileage. Actually, don't do that. I might need to borrow it to go pick some stuff up at Lowes. I like you having a truck now that I think of it. That will be handy for me.


Roofing skills: Houses need re-roofed every fifteen years assuming you use a 30 year shingle. Why do they call it a 30 year shingle then? Because roofing companies are sadistic bastards that like hurting peoples feelings, that's why. So why should you not know how to roof a house? Because it involves standing on a black mat in direct sunlight on the hottest days of summer while standing on a slope at least 12 feet in the air. If you have your mother's grace you will fall off the roof. If you have your dad's late arriving sense you will realize that you went to college so you didn't have to do this kind of work, but only after getting half the shingles torn off and now coming to grips with what an awful job this is going to be. Then you will want to fall off the roof just to be out of it. (Not allowed. If you agree to start you agree to finish. The end. No buts here.)


Good with computers: A person who is good with computers is always in demand. There is always a virus that the user "just can't understand where it came from," a router that "Swear was working," or a report that "has to be somewhere. You've just got to save me."

I have five friends that have been smart enough with computers to be dumb enough to fall into this trap. There are three Chris's, Matt, and McClean. Oh, and a Todd. I can't forget Todd. Guess which one of them I have begged to help me out and offered to pay them with beer? All of them. Every damn one of them and I have outsourced 3 of them to your mom for her computer problems so she would stop looking at me like I could figure it out.

You might be noticing that I think the common payment for these things is beer and or food. That is because if we were going to pay with cash for these favors we know we:
A- Couldn't afford it
B- Wouldn't be willing to pay it
C-It will give us a chance to see our friends
D- A and B, but really mostly B

The answer is D. Asking friends to do thankless jobs for below market prices seems insulting so we substitute beer and pizza and pray no one questions the conversion rate.

Be careful what you know. People are paying attention, and they have a little favor to ask.

I Want You to Be....

I look at you as this little kid with his hair too long, his face too goofy, and his heart so soft and think of the man I want you to become. Yes, I know it's a little early, but I am your dad so I think this is my job. You are my first and only kid so far so I am kind of learning on the job.

I want you to be fun. Right now you are the most fun little dude I know. I love watching you play with your toys and figure out how things work. I watch you learn what sounds toys are supposed to make and crash trucks and cars. This makes me so happy even though I know that some day I am going to have to add you to my auto insurance policy at which time crashing cars and trucks will not be near as humerous.

I want you find a good woman. Your mom has made me a better man. So far you seem to have your eyes set on a little blonde named Harper at your day care. I dropped you off at the same time as Harper and her mom the other day and her mom told me that she starts saying "Cruz! Cruz!" as soon as they pull in the parking lot. (By the way, the fact that Harper's mom is known as "Harper's mom" and I am probably known as "Cruz's dad" at day care is kind of endearing.) The day care girls have also let us know that you two play all day together and even wake each other up from naps once one of you wake up. I think that is awesome, and congrats because she is a cute little girl. You have an eye for these things. I do encourage you to branch out over these next twenty or so years, but I like where this is going.

I want you to believe in something. I don't know what that is yet, but your life will be more fulfilling with a purpose. If it ends up being something like "Occupy Wall Street" I will kick your ass out of the family. Find a purpose worth believing in.

I want you to go for it, if you want to. I wanted to be a stand up comedian growing up. I ended up being an insurance agent. It's ok to go with a safer option like I did especially because I never really had the balls or desire to go for it. If you do, then you will go with my blessing and support whether it is MIT, Broadway, The Cubs, or Second City. Of course the financial support will differ on the selection. Just a hint... MIT will get more money than Mime School.

You are growing up so fast and it is a pleasure every day to see it in progress. I love ya kid, and I can't wait to see where you are going to go.

Get Rid of Your Inner Eyore

I sat here tonight trying to figure out how to get back into blogging. I sat thinking "Why is it, that at this point in my life, the happiest time in my life, I can't think of anything to say?" I had a little moment with God praying and I realized what it was. Even though my business is doing great, I love my wife, my kid is about the most awesome little snot factory known to man, I was focusing on what else there was. How do I grow my business faster? When can I find time for working out and other things I want to do? Bla bla bla....

I need to release my inner Eyore. I need to stop looking at the small things that I don't have going and the things that I want and focus on the good. This thought crossed my mind and I instantly went from being bummed to being ready to get after it again.

So remember when you are down to stop feeling sorry for yourself. Start focusing on the good things, and don't be surprised when everything is going your way and you start feeling down. That is normal. Occasionally you just need to ask God to remind you to stop focusing on the shortcomings and remember the good. It's time to get it. Go out there and do something awesome today, or go out there and remember that having the heat on in the winter is pretty awesome too.

The Four Head

So what, I am not even doing my own pics. I know that says stock photo. So what. Quit judging me.

When I was growing up my dad was bald. Actually, since I was born my dad has been bald. It wasn't just while I was growing up. He didn't go from Hulk Hogan to Fabio just because I hit my twenties. So anyways, dad is bald. He would always make a joke about how his 4head had become a 12 head (4 fingers between your hairline and eyebrows is normal, for a bald man it's 12 fingers. You are trying it right now aren't you? It works huh?)

I am still holding steady at a 4head. How have I managed this despite my balding genes? Well son, here is the secret. I keep getting fatter. The fatter I am the fatter my fingers are which when held against my forehead makes me feel like I am not losing my hair. So if I ever end up being fat as hell holding my fat paws against my forehead yelling that I am not going bald you will know why. It won't be pretty. Denial never is.

Approximately the Same

The man you picture yourself as a father might not be the man you become. As a kid I always pictured by the time I was 30 and a father, I would be... well... fatherly. I thought I would be a pretty serious dude with a little furl to my eyebrow that let everyone I knew things. I would take things seriously and I would be stern and upright. In short I thought I would grow out of being me.

I am about the same person I have always been. This has been a suprising twist to life. When I graduated college I thought I would grow up. When I married your mom I knew things would change. Once my first born was born I would definately be a new man.... I guess it turns out that is kind of BS. Don't take me wrong, I am not the guy I was in college or even the young man trying to figure out how to be a professional, but I thought I would be more stately by now.

The truth is you are who you are. Maybe you don't own a beer bong any more and maybe you trade late night pizza for an over priced steak but in reality the core of your personality never changes. I still think that staying up late is fun, I will probably always like to take a joke just a little too far, and I will always find being in a crowd far better than being alone. For the record I hate being alone. There is no one to tell jokes to.

So embrace your quirks and accept that you are who you are, and who you will be. Try to be a better person everyday, but don't be surprised when a good fart joke still makes you laugh.

Because of her

Your mom's birthday is August 13.

You need to remember that date forever. Not only is that the anniversary of the date that your mom came into this world, but it is also the date that we celebrate her.

Because of her:

Your Grandpa Curt is a softy. Grandpa Curt had his little girl on that date. It made him a better man to have a delicate little girl he had to protect. I will never forget the way he looked at her as he got ready to walk down the aisle to give her to me. The tender love of a father has shaped her to be the woman she is now, and will always be.

Your Grandpa Ray also got another daughter-in-law that day. I still don't know if she knows how much he loves her. It is harder for him to say, but the lithopanes and sauteed eggs say more than she can know.

Your uncles still protect her. Jordan and Taylor still watch what I do with a brother's eye even though I am her husband. I can still see them cringe when I make an off color joke. I also laugh because every time I am out of town they call to see how she is, or stop to see her. Her brother-in-law Gabe would also stop the world to make sure she is OK, and make sure she had anything she needed.

Your Grandmas adore her. Your Grandma Kelly is your mom's best friend. There is no limit to what she would do for her daughter. Her true best friend, her mom, her guide, and a hell of a woman. Your Grandma Mary sees her as nothing short of her own daughter. She loves her as her own daughter and would stop the world to make sure "Her Ashley" is ok.

You have a Mom. Your mom would give up everything and everything to make sure that you had anything you need. She loves you beyond all words. The way she looks at you makes my heart melt. She is the "MegaMom". She's the best. The way that you look at her leaves no questions about how much you love her and adore her.

I am a husband. I can't put it into words. When I look at your mom I just have to smile. For every annoyance I put forth, she finds a way to love me. For every good part of me she makes me better. She is the greatest woman in the world. She is caring, funny, loving, thoughtful to a fault, ambititous, and amazing. The English language doesn't have the words for the woman I married. I thank God for the woman He blessed me with. For every good part of me, it is better because of her. I love her more than words can say and I am a far better man for the 7 years we have had together.

Your mom is the reason this family works. Your mom is the reason I want to improve myself as a man. Your mom loves you so much that you will never be able to comprehend.

So here's to your mom, my wife, and all the other titles that she holds. The world is a better place because of Ashley Anne Jorgensen.

I love you babe.

Nanny Needed

Your mom was sick this week. Not just "has a cold" type sick, but lying in bed going to the ER and then to the clinic type sick. It was awful. I have found that I am a good dad, but I am a supporting parent type good dad.

We went to Chicago and you saw your first Cubs game and a bunch of other cool Chicago type stuff. It was great. Then your mom got sick when we came home.... Shit went off the rails at that point. I found the following to be true.

1. Your mom takes care of you.

I never knew how much your mom did until she was laid up. I stepped up and did all the feedings, baths, and dressings. This means that you were not as well fed, not as clean, and wore Cubs outfits that didn't really fit with shorts that didn't really match.

2. Your mom cleans the house.

The house was "guy clean" meaning that it was visibly pretty clean but only until you looked close. I won't lie. My 100% clean is 40% mom clean. It was uncomfortable around the house.

3. Your mom never stops.

I got a glimpse of how much your mom does on an a average day. This might have been a blessing in disguise. Upon realizing how much she does in a day I considered hiring a nanny after 6 hours of being in charge.

4. Your mom loves you.

She was lying in bed, almost dead to the world and still telling me what you needed. She couldn't stand without getting dizzy, couldn't hold down food, and couldn't do anything she wanted. You know what she did do? She grilled me about what you had eaten, when your naps were, and why did I have you dressed that way.

So in summary, your dad loves you. I do the best I can whenever I can. I like to think that I am a good dad. I found out quick though that I am a "eating your feet, throwing you in the air, and cuddling while you sleep" kinda guy. Thank God that your mom got to feeling better. You will be a better person because of it.

Thank God every day for two parents that love you, and one parent that holds everything together. Thank God for your mama. I do Each and Every Day!

Who You Have Become

It's pretty crazy looking at you and who you have become. In the past ten months you have gone from being this little blob of a person to a little person. It seems like just yesterday we were so excited that you could sit on your own. Now you tear around between your mom's magazines and your dad's DVR box at blazing speeds. I am so proud over every little step. You now say "mama dada mama dada" like it's your job. (You have no other job by the way.)

Sometimes you say "Dada" when I walk in the room. Sometimes you say it while looking at a plant. I don't care either way. I assume you are just telling the plant who the coolest guy you know is. That departure from reality is reassuring in a way. I love you no matter what the hell you are trying to say. In my mind you love me, and that is all I really need. I look at older kids and think of what we have to come, and I relish who you are now, and the crazy little guy you are on the crux of being and I laugh.

Oh the things that are to come. I love you Cruzer. I can't wait to see how this all comes together.

Raising a Kid is Easy

Sicks kids are awful. No, that pic is not of Cruz when he's sick... it's his Uncle Gabe. I don't know how many times that I saw a kid out in public with a snot crusted nose, an eye that had schmutz on it, and looking really run down and though "what in the hell is wrong with this kids parents? Wipe the damn kids nose! Clean up his eye! What's wrong with you?" I also remember cussing parents out because their kid cried while I was eating at a resutraunt. I couldn't believe how inconsiderate it was to have thier kid out while I was trying to enjoy a meal.

I now know a few things. Kids get sick. Kids have nasty noses. Kids cry despite your best efforts. While we were out for a family meal the other night with Ash's family I found myself standing and bouncing with a little Cruz dude trying to keep the big cries from coming. It turns out that this whole parenting thing is easier when you don't have any.

Sick kids also can't breathe well. The Dr. told us to elevate his head by propping his matress up with pillows. Then you have to put rolled up pillows along side him so he doesn't roll down. Well Cruzer doesn't lay still for anything, so every morning he was laying upside down hacking his little heart out. Man sick kids are awful. You can't do anything for them. It's like talking to a democrat, you know the only real answer is to let them figure out no one can do it for them, but you just want to help. You also know they might have a wet diaper.

So I apologize to every parent of the kid with the crusty nose. My bad, I get it now. I also apolgize to Cruz because I tend to drop food on him while I am trying to eat/bounce/pace.

Blow Outs

There are two types of baby poops. Normal baby poops, and then "Oh my god I think Cruz swallowed an air compressor tied to a rotten animal carcus compost bin" poops. The last couple nights have been the former. And it's gross.

We are talking poo from the top of the back to the toes. Like toe jam replaced with toe shat. It's awful. In fact so awful that the last two days we had to go surgical and cut off the onesie and get a bath ready. I used 17 wipes just getting the poo off enough to put Cruz in the in the bath so he didn't dirty the water.

But life is like that some times. Sometimes an extra bath and a cut up onesie aren't the biggest problem. The biggest problem is that you haven't cut your nails recently.... Now where did I pur my string cheese?

Don't Punch Things

Don't be that guy. Everyone knows some guy that got mad, probably while drinking, and punched a hole in the wall. No one likes that guy. Not your dad, your girlfriend, or your roomates who just saw their deposit disappear. Your chances of breaking your hand are much higher than your chances of impressing anyone. I have always wanted to punch a hole in the wall to see how hard it is, but never have just because of this fact.

As anyone who has hung drywall can attest, I am very bad at knowing where studs are going to be. I put about 5 screws into the drywall before I find a stud most times. Why is this relevant? Because I am quite certain my stud finding abilities would be much higher when trying to avoid them.

Most nurses don't get all dolled up for their shift unless they are on Grey's Anatomy or some other god awful show that your mother watches. I am quite certain however that the day you go to the emergency room with a shattered hand from punching a wall you will find a whole full of hotties. They will mock you. They will make your pride hurt far more than your hand.

So don't punch walls tough guy. I hate patching dry wall and having a cast sucks. So really, just count to ten, or go for a jog or something.