Kate's Rebellion

As far as I can remember, Kate has reached a new FIRST in her young life: she has come up with her own expression to show her disgust or rebellion.  We were on vacation the past week, and that's when it started.  Kelley and I heard it a couple times each before we realized she was actually SAYING something PURPOSEFULLY.  I'm going to keep this as short as possible and show you a video to show you where she got her EXPRESSION.

Each time she said it, she was mad.  For example, on our way home from vacation, she threw her sunglasses across the back of the car against the window.  She's been told plenty of times not to do that, so I turned around and popped her on the leg (Kelley was driving).  Normally, that brings a few tears followed by an apology.  This time, she leaned forward, glared at me, and said something that sounded like "AHN-tie"!!!  She sounded like Mr. Miyagi from Karate Kid.

Since it sounded like an Asian cuss word and we had no idea where she heard it, we'd been asking her who says that.
Kelley: "Kate, who says that?"
Kate: "Rapunzel."
Kelley: "Who does Rapunzel say that to?"
Kate: "Her mom."
Kelley: "When you say it, are you being nice, or mean?"
Kate: (smiling as she answered) "Mean!"

As soon as we got home Saturday night, I started the movie Tangled and watched it with Kate as I unpacked our stuff.  If I stepped out of the room I'd ask if Rapunzel had said it yet, and she kept saying, "No, not yet."  The movie was nearly over and I'd decided that Kate was making it all up, but then she started smiling and said, "Here it comes!"  And here's what I saw:

Rapunzel says, "I am the lost princess!  Aren't I!"  Kate doesn't know the words "aren't I."  She saw Rapunzel's scowl, heard the expression, and thought Rapunzel was expressing anger!

Kelley and I will probably be saying, "AHN-tie" when we're mad for the rest of our lives.

Chuggington

Kelley had a continuing education class in Chicago last week for 3 days, so Kate and I tagged along and we made the last part of the week a vacation.  Kate flew on an airplane and rode on a train for the very first time.  Kelley loaded several episodes of the two shows Kate loves, "Little Einsteins" and "Chuggington," on her iPad.  Both of these shows are on Disney Jr.

We don't let Kate watch much TV, but we thought we better have a way to keep her occupied waiting for our flights and on our flights.  It worked, but I was reminded of why we don't let Kate watch much TV: it's ADDICTIVE for her.  We'd rather her play (inside or outside) and look at books, anything other than becoming another TV/Computer/Gadget zombie child.

Kate developed a favorite saying on our trip.  I've been recording her first word each day in my journal, just for fun.  One morning when I went into her room (we had a suite the last part of the week) to get her out of the crib, her first word was "light" because I'd turned on a lamp to get her up, and with her next breath she said, "More Chuggy!"  Not "Daddy," "Mommy," "Breakfast," or any of her usual first words of the day, but "More Chuggy!"  She had watched those 3 20-minute episodes so often that it was all she began to think about.  At various times throughout the day, she'd say it to us.  She wanted to watch Chuggington, ALL THE TIME.

I don't think using the TV (or newer technology) to babysit children is a good idea.  As I've worked with teenagers since the late 1990's, I've noticed a drastic change in how they act and interact.  It's disturbing.  I regularly witness groups of teenage boys and girls in a room together, DURING UNSTRUCTURED TIME (no lesson, no one addressing the group), and the only thing you can hear is thumbs moving on keyboards or scrolling the glass faces of their phones.  Sometimes, they're texting each other - in the same room - instead of talking.  I've also experienced this on trips, where there's very little sound inside the van I'm driving, because everyone is playing with their phones.  When this trend first started, I banned the use of phones, iPods, etc. on our trips so that they would ENGAGE one another.  It didn't work: they mostly just rode in silence unless I tried to make them talk via playing games, etc.

Years ago, some of the greatest ministry the week of a youth retreat happened ON THE RIDE TO/FROM OUR DESTINATION.  Now on these trips, there's mostly silence or music from the radio that few people hear because they're all listening to their own.  We witnessed this same thing on the subway last week - most people were PURPOSEFULLY isolated, even though they were sitting or standing inches away from others.

I'm an introvert, but I like to talk to people.  The few times I've flown alone, I've usually sat beside someone who wanted to talk and I generally enjoyed the conversation.  But nowadays, kids don't care to talk to even the people they KNOW, let alone the people they don't know.  I wonder how some of them will find a relationship meaningful enough for marriage.  I wonder how the Christians in these younger generations will ever be able to share the Gospel, which by nature is difficult, controversial, and polarizing, when they don't even have the desire to have conversation with others.

As funny as it sounds coming from a 22-month old, I hate the reality of the words, "More Chuggy!"

Daddy or Kevin? I Think I'll Just Cherish It

About a month ago Kate figured out that my name is Kevin.  And she started using it.  She hears everyone call me by my name and she's very observant, so it just seemed like the right thing to do, I guess.  She knew there was something questionable about it, though, because she'd give a sly little smile when she said it.

When she first started saying Kevin, it came out "Kev-y."  It was cute, and funny, but as an adoptive parent, it was weirder than if she were my biological daughter!  Think about it.

Over the past few days, she's progressed with my name.  When she wants me to follow her, she says, "Mon (Come on), Ke-Fin!"  She still thinks it's funny, and she calls me "Daddy" 90% of the time, so I'm just enjoying this as one of those things that will all too quickly fade away.

I'm trying to appreciate these little things, and each day I wonder, "Will she ever do that again?"  Babies become toddlers and toddlers become little kids SO QUICKLY, and their progression is A DAILY THING, so we better enjoy things in the moment.

I was talking to an old friend this week.  He was giving me some wisdom on this very thing.  He said, "When __________ (his daughter) was little, she LOVED to hold my hand in public and she always wanted me right beside her.  It was so sad when she reached the age that she no longer did that.  When she was 13, she got out of bed one night and came to me in the living room.  She said she couldn't sleep.  I was sitting in my recliner.  She sat in my lap and laid her head on my chest.  It didn't take 2 minutes for her to fall asleep.  I sat there with big tears rolling down my face, knowing something like that may never happen again.  So I sat there with her for so long that my arms and legs fell asleep and I had trouble carrying her to bed."

Instead of demanding that Kate call me "Daddy," I'm going to cherish "Kev-y," "Ke-Fin," and the little sly smiles that come with them as long as I get them.

Taylor Swift

Kelley likes Taylor Swift and has some of her CD's.  Her lyrics, as far as we know, are clean. A couple weeks ago, she played the song "We Are Never Getting Back Together" with Kate in the car.

Big mistake.  We can't go ANYWHERE now without Kate saying, "Ever!"  That's her way of telling us what she wants to hear.  She's a backseat DJ.  For months, she's been commanding us to play one of the songs from a CD with lots of kids' church songs.  I don't even get her strapped in the car seat before she's saying "Build" and hitting her fist into her palm.  That's what she calls "The Wise Man Built His House Upon the Rock."  Some days her request is "Whole World" ("He's Got the Whole World In His Hands") and she forms her hands into a circle.  And her third request is "Choo Choo" and she makes a motion like she's pulling the chain on a train whistle.  That's for the song "This Train Is Bound for Glory."

Kelley and I both have this CD of kids' church songs in our car, out of necessity.  At first, Kate just sang the songs at church, and when we'd drive somewhere, she'd make her requests and Kelley or I would sing the songs to her.  Then, Kelley got the CD and started playing it in her car.  From then on, when Kate would make her requests in my car, and I'd start singing, she'd fuss and say, "Noooooooooooooooooooooo!"  So I'd sing another song, and she'd eventually start crying.  This happened all in a day, so I didn't know what was wrong.  I didn't know she'd been listening to the CD with Kelley.  She didn't WANT me to sing (and I don't blame her).  She wanted to hear the CD.  So I got the CD, too.  And that's been life in the car for us ever since.

But now Kate has a 4th request - "Ever."  I don't have the CD, and I'm not getting it.  She will just have to tough it out when riding with me.

Adoption - Telling the Child About It

Kelley has a blog about our adoption and our life with Kate - www.thebiglongwait.blogspot.com .
She receives emails weekly from adoptive parents and prospective adoptive parents, and they ask all kinds of questions - good questions, the kind we also ask or used to ask.

I read an email today from a married couple that's going through the beginning stages of adopting a newborn.  The lady asked how things are NOW with Kate's birth parents, and how/when we plan to tell Kate.  Kelley will reply to her directly, but these questions are good to discuss since open adoption is the general rule for domestic adoptions today.

First, open adoption is a very broad term.  All it means is that there is some form of open communication between the birth parents and the adoptive parents.  How open the adoption is and continues to be must be determined by those involved.  Some adoptive parents want little contact with the birth parents, some birth parents want little contact with the adoptive parents (and the child), and those are some of the big things that help with finding a match.

But this is important - the old way of adoption is going the way of landlines.  I should probably say, going the way of rotary dial phones.  Some people still have them, but don't go looking for them on store shelves.  When I was in elementary school in the 80's, I had a few friends who were adopted, but we (classmates, church friends) weren't supposed to talk to them about it in case they didn't know.  They had been led to believe they were their parents' biological children - even though their dad was 5"7, their mom was 5"2, and they (the adopted children) were already 5' in 4th grade and looked nothing like their parents.  (I made all that up, but it helped make my point.)

Here's how our adoption has gone - SO FAR.  By telling our experience, in no way am I acting like an authority or a predictor of the future for every adoption.  In some cases, I'm SURE it's best not to have any contact with the birth parents - at least while the child is young.  Not only do we HAVE a very open adoption, we WANTED it.  We heard stories from both sides and the children who grew up with some kind of contact with their birth parents seemed more peaceful about life.  We didn't want Kate to wonder.  We didn't want her to feel bad for wondering, like she was doing Kelley and me wrong by imagining how life would be with her birth parents.  We didn't want her to wonder about her heritage.  We didn't want her to wonder about any siblings, or what she might look like when she grows up, or, or, or . . .

So we wanted an open adoption.  Kate's birth parents were 18 (birth father) and 16 (birth mother) when we met them.  We've seen them at least every few months since - with Kate.  Kate has a room full of toys and books, many from her birth parents.  We've made sure to keep some of these things they gave her at her birth - a blanket, a stuffed animal, a book, etc.  She's presently sleeping with a glow-worm type toy that lights up and plays music.  Her birth father gave it to her on her first birthday.

When will we tell Kate her story?  We don't really plan to.  She's living her story openly.  As she grows, learns, and understands, her story and all the information is openly available to her.  First, Kelley just printed the first year of her blog in a book.  Kate has a BOOK about the first year of her life, how all of this came to be.  Everything that's in Kelley's blog is in this book.  And second, on Kate's dresser, we keep a picture of 1-day old Kate at the hospital in her birth parents' arms.  She can now say both of their names, and she knows the little baby they're holding is her. She'll figure things out in time, and we'll continue to discuss her story with her until she completely understands.

Again, I know our situation isn't representative of all adoptions.  God blessed us with a wonderful daughter and wonderful birth parents who wanted to give her what they couldn't.  We'll never stop thanking them for allowing us to be Kate's parents.  I've asked them at a couple of our face to face meetings if they are still able to handle the visits, or if the visits are too painful.  They tell me that although the visits can be emotional, and yes, difficult, they are GREAT, and they want them to continue.  They know where we live and have been in our home - in Kate's bedroom.  They have our phone numbers.  We text them pictures of Kate occasionally.  Kate's birth mother invited us to her high school graduation this May, which isn't going to be one of our official visits.  We count it an honor.

If you're considering adoption, or if you're an adoptive parent and you're worried about any of these scenarios, or when to tell your child, or if your child will resent or reject you, I encourage you to trust God and be as honest as you can appropriately be.  There are adoption horror stories, but there are far more stories like ours.  So forget the old-school rotary dial phone.  Life with an adoptive child is so much more peaceful for everyone involved when nobody is trying to keep lots of secrets.  (And, I can also encourage Kate and our future adopted children with the fact that they never have to worry about growing up to look like me.)

Kate's Week With the Flu

Kate's had a rough week, and because of it, so have we.  She had a cough on Monday - no big deal, right?  But she woke up crying and without her signature smile on Tuesday.  Her temperature was about 103.  A trip to the doctor confirmed that she has the flu.

Kelley missed work Tuesday and Wednesday to take care of her, and Kelley's mom came up Thursday and Friday so Kelley could get back to work. What's wrong with this picture?  I'm missing.  Kelley and her mom got flu shots this year.  I did not.  On purpose.  I got them for years, but the last two times I got the flu shot, I was sick by the next morning with FLU-LIKE SYMPTOMS.  I know all the "research" says that the flu shot CANNOT GIVE YOU THE FLU, but if you read the small print when you DO get a flu shot, it says that you can experience "flu-like symptoms" and then it goes on to essentially DESCRIBE THEM AS THE FLU!  If I had to feel that bad, I'd rather it be from accidentally catching the flu, not on purpose!  Nevertheless, I went to Ingles this week and got a flu shot, and a very expensive prescription for Tamiflu.  Kate's doctor told me to go ahead and start taking it since I've been exposed to the virus.  As for the flu shot, it won't start offering any protection for about two weeks, so it's no help with Kate's sickness.

If you're scared of getting a flu shot because of the PAIN, stop being a baby and go get it.  Mine was free, but even if you have to pay the full price, it's just $30 or so.  From now on, even if the shot makes me a little sick, it's better than not being able to touch your wife/kids for a week.  Also, it didn't hurt at all, unless you call a very tiny prick pain.  The needle is about as thick as a strand of hair.  I've been giving myself shots for years every week with a 20 gauge, 1-inch needle.  In comparison, the flu shot needle was non-existent.  My upper arm was a little sore for a day, but nothing major.  And, best of all, IT DIDN'T HAVE ANY EFFECT ON ME! NO "FLU-LIKE" SYMPTOMS!

Kate, by the way, DID get a flu shot this year.  Lot of help that did.  Anyway, without the protection of the shot, I've had to keep my distance from my daughter all week.  It hasn't been fun for any of us.  Kate must think I've abandoned her.  I've tried to keep her from even seeing me, but it's not always possible.  Sadly, all I can do is wave and talk to her from a distance before I got outside, to the gym, or to our bedroom.  She cries and reaches for me while calling out, "Daddies!  Daddies!"

About that "Daddies" thing: For the past two weeks, that's been her name for me.  I used to be "Dada," then "Daddy," and now, "Daddies."  Here's why: Kate has a natural affection for phones, computers, etc.  She goes for my laptop and/or mouse every time she gets a chance, even though she's served plenty of rounds in timeout over it.  Kelley is constantly saying to her, "That's Daddy's."  So, she's confused and now thinks my name is "Daddies," not "Daddy."

I hate it.  It'll pass quickly, I hope.

Kate's doctor told us that I can expect to get the flu, and that even with the shot, Kelley might.  Thankfully, we've both avoided it.  So far.  Kate's fever finally broke sometime Thursday, and although it came back a few times, this is Saturday and she's getting back to her normal self.  But she's still got a runny nose and cough, and that's the way the flu spreads the easiest.  She could be contagious for a few more days, so I've got more alone time until then.  Kelley SENT ME A TEXT today that said, "I feel like I haven't seen you in a week!"  Sad, huh?

New Kids On The Block

Kate has been saying "Ewwwwwwwwwwwww" and "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" a lot lately, and the other day I found myself singing to her:

Oh, oh, oh, oh, ohOh, oh, oh, oh
She smiled and tried to copy me so I kept going:
Oh, oh, oh, oh, ohThe right stuff
She loved it!  You must know that I don't sing in front of people.  Kelley wasn't home, and yes, Kate is a person, but she doesn't count!   She doesn't care how bad I sound and she smiles, claps, and tries her best to sing along.
The next night I did it after I fed her and she started bouncing in her high chair.  So I plugged my iPod into the sound system and played the real song for her.  She danced the entire time, sort of bobbing up and down.  
Here's the video to the song (the year was 1989).  Sorry, there's a 15 second advertisement.  And I'm not embarrassed to say that I owned the tape "Hangin' Tough."  And I have a few of their songs on my iPod.  And Backstreet Boys.  And NSYNC.  And 98 Degrees.

My First Father's Day

OK, technically Sunday, June 17 was my 39th Father's Day, but it was my FIRST AS A FATHER!  Since I was 16, I'd wondered if the day would ever come.  The following is the most personal thing about me, something I hid from just about everybody until a year ago when I shared it with my church family during a sermon: at age 16, I discovered that because of a birth defect, I would never have biological children.

As a junior in high school, I started the year at 5'3" tall and about 110 pounds.  I lied on my driver's license and put  5'4" and 115.  Somehow that made me feel better.  I'd never really started puberty because the only testosterone my body made was the 20% of a male's total that comes from the adrenal gland.  I was a slender, small child and for years I just thought I'd always be that way, but by the time I was 12, my 10-year old brother had passed me in size.  It was humiliating and it caused me to resent him.

After 7th grade, I refused to change in front of anyone.  I'd always loved sports and P.E. had been my favorite class of the day, but no more.  I was scared to death that someone would find out.  We moved to Portsmouth, VA the summer before my 10th grade year and for P.E. there, you were docked a point off your final grade for every day you didn't shower (in open showers) after class.  I quickly discovered that there were 90 days in a semester, and the best grade I could get was a 10, because I wasn't taking a shower in front of ANYBODY.  Awesome.  Made me miss Franklin County High School in Carnesville, GA all the more.  There, nobody cared if you went to class stinking.

Near the end of my 10th grade year, after my family had moved to SC, I convinced my parents that something was wrong with me and I started seeing doctors.  I thought having a younger brother pass me in size was humiliating, but it was NOTHING compared to the exams I was put through.  I won't post my official diagnosis to keep the content of this blog PG, but after a few months of blood work, I started taking testosterone in mid-September, 1989.  That's about the same time I was sized for my high school class ring - size 8.

All I knew was, that stuff worked!  The process that should've taken 3-4 years or more happened to me in less than a year.  SUDDENLY, and I do mean suddenly, none of my clothes or shoes fit anymore.  I developed an Adam's Apple that has given me shaving fits ever since, and the deeper voice that goes with it. Our class rings arrived around February, and I was completely shocked when my size 8 ring got stuck on my  middle knuckle.  I had to get it re-sized to a 10, and then later, to a 10.5.  In four months, I'd grown about 4 inches taller and about 40 pounds heavier.  Talk about AWESOME!

But, growing so quickly caused plenty of problems, too.  I tried out for my school's baseball team about that same time - February.  I was hitting balls harder than ever before - obviously.  I could throw harder.  There were about 30 guys trying out and up to half would get cut, so I was going all out.  And it was killing me.  Never before had physical activity caused me PAIN.  My sudden growth was too much for all my connective tissues, and each night after practice, I'd hobble to my room and ice everything down for a couple hours.  Each day at school was misery because we had 3 floors and I had classes on each.  One day before practice, I went and talked to the coach and told him the real reason I wasn't going to come back.  He told me I was going to make the team and that he could really use me, so I kept trying for a couple days.  And then I told him I just couldn't do it.  I was heartbroken.  Baseball was the only organized sport I'd ever played, I was pretty good at it, and playing high school baseball had always been a dream.
 
My growth slowed over the next year, and I graduated at 5'9" and about 175 pounds.  A few people at school actually accused me of taking steroids.  I asked them how stupid they were, because steroids don't make anybody grow 6" TALLER.  But, it was obvious that SOMETHING had happened.  I had some weights at home and used them often even though I didn't really know what I was doing, but my body-type is mesomorph and I had natural muscle.  Again, it was AWESOME!

That sounds like a happy ending, and the growth was great, but I was still dealing with the fact that I'd never have biological children.  When my doctor told me that part, I started crying.  And I didn't stop for a while.  He tried to console me with humor: "Just think, you can have all the sex you want and you won't have to worry about getting anybody pregnant!"  That didn't even make me smile.  I was a committed Christian, absolutely determined to have sex with my wife and only my wife.  My wife.

My wife was on my mind from that point on, and thinking about her scared me to death.  This is the hard part of my diagnosis, if you haven't figured it out.  I'd always loved being around children, especially babies, and they seemed to like me, too.  I just expected to have 3-4 of my own in the future.  With my wife.  But with my PROBLEM, I didn't think anybody would ever want me after they found out.  So I guarded my secret.  I absolutely HAD to tell my closest MALE friends, and a few adults (male and female) who had become mentors to me.  I went to the doctor twice a month for injections, and it grew increasingly difficult to hide all those doctor visits, or the yellow doctor's receipts that I sometimes forgot to remove from my car.  These receipts had big, dark handwriting on them that said, "Testosterone Injection."

But I hid it from girls.  The first girl I ever loved found out accidentally from a friend of ours at church.  The friend overheard it from someone I'd told.  This girlfriend, whom I wasn't even dating at the time but I PLANNED TO MARRY, called me one night and asked me to come see her after she got off work.  She needed to talk to me about "something."  We went and sat in my car and she immediately started crying and asked, "Why didn't you TELL me?"  I didn't even have to ask what it was.  I knew.  And I immediately thought, "Well, I can forget about her.  Not gonna happen now."  Before I had time to think anything else, she was telling me that it didn't matter to her, and it didn't change anything.  I was SHOCKED.  And AMAZED.  My fear turned out to be for NOTHING.  But how was I supposed to know it wouldn't matter to her?  She already had her children's NAMES picked out!  We ultimately did date for about a year, and my infertility had nothing to do with our breakup.

I decided that I didn't want to go through that awful situation again, and that the next time I was even THINKING about getting serious with a girl, I'd tell her up front.  So I did.  I told the next girl I dated early on that I had a secret, and if she found out about it, she might not want anything to do with me.  One night at a church softball game, again sitting in my car, she said she thought she knew my secret, and she guessed it right away.  I was thinking, "HOW IN THE WORLD DID YOU GET THAT FROM WHAT I SAID?  You weren't thinking "murderer," "felon," "sex-change operation," "toupee . . .???"

Two conversations, two wins for me.  I'd worried for years for nothing, so far.  But still, I was 25 years old and single, and I didn't want to be 35 years old and still single because everybody knew I couldn't have children.  So, I kept my secret to myself.

The third girl I ever got serious with already knew.  She's my wife today, but she used to be one of the students in my youth ministry.  She's always been tiny, and during her high school years, I wondered if she had a similar problem as me.  So I told her my secret and asked if she'd been examined by a doctor.  She assured me that she was OK.  I also told a few of my other students when there was an appropriate reason, with the assurance that they wouldn't tell anyone.  A couple were girls and a couple were guys, and I never INTENDED to tell them, but through some problem I was helping each deal with, my story just related and I thought it would help them.

A few years later when my future wife was no longer one of my students and I stopped seeing her as such, there were no barriers to her pursuing a relationship with me.  I didn't have to have one of those scary, intense car conversations.  Awesome!

Four years and one day after we were married, we became parents to Katherine Ava.  She was born ONE DAY before our anniversary.  We were hoping she'd be born ON our anniversary, but she had other plans.  We adopted Kate from two teenagers who put the best interests of their baby ahead of their own interests.  God led them to select us to raise their daughter.  They blessed us with a gift I was unable to give myself, or my wife.  I will forever be grateful to them.  And as long as it's in Kate's best interests, they'll always be a part of her life.

I have a big regret about my secret.  I spent most of the past 15 years PRIMARILY as a youth minister.  There are so many applications I could've made with my story, so much good I could've used it for, so many ways I could've potentially impacted more than just 4-5 lives with it.  But I was too scared.  I was selfish.  I was worried about scaring away some beautiful girl who could've been my future wife, while all that time God was working things out in ways I never would've asked for or originally wanted.  I have regrets.  But after finally being brave enough to tell my church last year, I'm no longer ashamed for people to know the truth about me.  The only reason I finally broke and told my story was because I was tired of people assuming that we were adopting because my wife was infertile.  I was tired of people asking both of us personal questions and us having to hide the truth.  I'm glad I finally got tired of it.  And I'm glad I'm no longer scared to tell the real story about why it took me so long to celebrate my first Father's Day as a father.

John Deere Green

When I went to pick Kate up after work yesterday, I saw my Dad on the lawn mower going away from me.  As I got closer, I could tell that he was leaning to the left, like he was trying to hold on to something.  He turned the mower around and what he was holding was Kate!

Last week I rode Kate on our OLD mower for about two minutes, just across the yard as I put it up.  She enjoyed it, but she enjoys lots of stuff.  (The picture and video in this post is of her on our old lawnmower.)

But she REALLY enjoyed riding on the John Deere mower with my Dad.  They'd already cut about 1/3 of the yard, so she'd been riding for a while.  Daddy said that at first, she was content to ride, but eventually, she had to STEER.

Normally when I arrive to pick her up, no matter what she's doing, she lights up and reaches for me.  Not this time.  She knew I was there to get her and she didn't want to go.  Instead of reaching for me, she clutched herself to Daddy and started whining.  When I took her from Daddy, she started crying.  I tossed her in the air a few times to distract her and started to leave, but as I was opening the truck door to put her in her car seat, Daddy started the mower up again.  And the crying started all over again!

Let's just say, I know what we'll probably get Kate for Christmas in the next year or two.  Also, I'm going to ENCOURAGE the grass cutting.  I don't plan to raise a daughter that won't cut grass just because she's a girl.  Kate's going to know how to do things that some people think aren't "girly," but in a real world, they're basic necessities.  Not every girl gets married the moment they leave their parents' house, therefore, not every girl will always have a MAN around to do "manly" stuff - which also includes stuff like, for the car, checking fluid levels, tire pressure, and knowing how to change a flat tire.  Cooking meat on a grill is also a NECESSITY.

Getting dirty doesn't make a girl un-girly.  Getting dirty and never taking a bath?  That's a different story.  I've been in youth ministry at least part-time since 1997.  Trust me: it's not just middle school boys that think getting in the pool is the only bath they need on a week-long retreat or mission trip.

I WILL say that my wife couldn't change a flat tire on her SUV b/c she can't lift the spare!  But, she knows HOW.  She watches me do it every time I change the oil and rotate the tires on our cars.  And she just reminded me that when she was a little girl and shared a go-cart with her sister, she learned how to do all the maintenance on it.  I didn't know I had a lawnmower mechanic under our roof.  I'll have to make a note of that.

BTW, don't make fun of the outfit.  I'm CUTTING GRASS!  And the tall socks?  If you had a Husqvarna commercial string trimmer (weedeater), you'd wear some leather CHAPS when you used it.

Mother's Day As A Mommy

Sunday was Mother's Day, and it was a special one: Kelley had her first Mother's Day as a mommy.  As you can see, Kate was just as happy about it as Kelley was.

At church, I took Kate on stage when I made announcements and talked about the significance of the day.  On second thought, I should've waited until Father's Day to do that!  She waved to everyone and smiled.  I think she likes the stage, and I know she likes the attention.  She's a "church" baby and goes to just about anyone.

Maybe I said this before, but the only time she hesitates to go to someone is if it's a man with facial hair.  She's not a fan of beards, mustaches, goatees, etc.  Good thing for both of us that I shave daily.  But, she'll generally choose a man over a woman.  When I drop her off in the mornings, if my dad hasn't left yet, she always wants him instead of Diane, and Diane is the one who keeps her all day.

On Monday, my Grandma gave me Sunday's Dear Abby column.  Kelley is going to mail it to Kate's birthmother.  I'll share it with you:

Dear Abby: This Mother's Day greeting is for all those incredibly unselfish mothers who chose to place their child up for adoption.  I am an adopted child whose life has been a wonderful journey.  If I could send a message to my birth mother, it would be one of eternal gratitude for allowing someone else to give me the life she was unable to provide.  My adoptive parents love me and instilled a value system and belief in God that have carried me through every challenge life has sent my way.  I never felt abandoned, but knew that I was chosen by people who were unable to have children.  There is no love like a mother's love.  That is why I want to tell all those mothers out there who gave their children to another parent to love and nurture that their sacrifice and heartache became a miracle for so many of us.  God bless all of you on this Mother's Day. - Thankful Daughter

Dear Thankful: I'm pleased to print your Mother's Day greeting, and I hope it will bring comfort and reassurance to any woman for whom today is a reminder of a painful sacrifice.  I would also like to wish a happy Mother's Day to mothers everywhere.

Kate's Second Word, Unsweet Tea, and a Fitness Tip

OK, it MAY be her second word, but Kate started saying "dada" this week. Kelley heard it first. Of course, I didn't believe it because she has been making the "b" sound for a while, but never the "d" sound. She starts off by mouthing "dada" silently. Then she whispers it. Finally, she says it out loud. It's like she's warming up, practicing, and then presenting what she just practiced!

I say that it MAY be her second word because she jabbers a lot of stuff, much of it in a whisper. She repeats something over and over when she's playing or making a mess that sounds like, "I'll try, I'll try, I'll try."

Regardless, I'm happy that she's saying "dada." Maybe one day soon she'll know what it means!

Unrelated, here are a couple videos of Kate to enhance the enjoyment of this post.

A. Kate's in what I call "Discovery/Destroyer" mode. Since she can crawl now, she's trying to figure out what EVERYTHING does. But in the process, she's really making some messes and it won't be long before something gets destroyed.

B. A girl after my own heart. Kate's getting a taste of unsweet tea from Diane. She's been sipping it like this for a couple weeks, and she still grimaces as if she's tasted a lemon. This wasn't her first sip at this time, so her grimace is less severe but still noticeable. More on unsweet tea after the videos.

Only in the south do you have to call it UNSWEET tea. It's better known as, TEA. Don't get me wrong, I love sweet tea. I wish it had zero calories. It took me over a year to ween myself off sweet tea and I did it by mixing sweet and unsweet. Over time, I reduced the amount of sweet and eventually I was content to drink it STRAIGHT UNSWEET. That was in 2003-2004, and I haven't PURPOSEFULLY drank sweet tea since. When you think you're drinking unsweet and it's actually sweet, it's DISGUSTING. Occasionally when I get breakfast at a drive thru, I'll mistakenly be given sweet tea. I find out when it's too late to go back, and usually, it's on my weekly golf trip with my former pastor, Charles Owens. He lives more than 2.5 hours away from us, but we meet somewhere weekly for golf that requires each of us to drive a minimum of 1.5 hours. That's my weekly time to eat a BAD breakfast - a biscuit from Bojangles, Chic Fil A, etc. I eat the SAME THING for breakfast all the other days - a pack of maple and brown sugar oatmeal mixed with an equal amount of plain oatmeal.

Why did I switch to unsweet? I'm not a diabetic, but I am a fitness freak. I like to eat and although I'm careful, I eat till I'm full. The greatest single way for Americans to reduce their daily caloric intake is to STOP DRINKING CALORIES! It's easy to consume 500, 1000, or MORE calories per day just in beverages. A 12oz Coke has 140 calories. A 12oz Mountain Dew has 170 calories. A 12oz orange soda has over 200 calories. Sweet Tea is impossible to rate because everyone makes it with different amounts of sugar. This was part of my dissertation, "A Fitness Model For Pastors."

When I stopped drinking calories, I lost some weight, but more importantly, reduced my waistline and bodyfat considerably - without changing ANYTHING ELSE. For me, it's water, unsweet tea, or diet soda, which I drink sparingly nowadays. One exception is that when I have a softball game, I'll take a low-calorie version Gatorade.

Kate is in the 100th percentile for height, and @ the 80th percentile for weight. Her birth mother is @5'9" and her birth father is 6'3". She's not going to be a small girl like her mom (Kelley is 5'1" and under 100lbs). We're going to give her every opportunity to eat and drink SMART so that she doesn't have to consume herself with her size/weight. Fortunately, she loves being outside so far, and she has active parents who love sports. You may see her on ESPN someday!

Kate and The Boys

(I didn't start this intending to write so much about our dogs. If you're in a hurry, scroll to the last paragraph and the pictures at the bottom.)

Before we had Kate, we had two boys: Max and Cooper, our yellow Labs. Max was born March 6, 2009, and Cooper was born October 6, 2009, so Max is 7 months older.

Max is smaller at 80 pounds, but what he "lacks" in size, he makes up for in speed, endurance, and overall athleticism. He'll run with MAXIMUM effort as long as I'll throw a ball for him to chase. When he's tired, he'll come back to me and lie down a few feet away with the ball between his paws, as if to say, "Give me a minute, Kev." Even so, if I throw another ball, he'll take off after it. (FYI, I give him a minute to rest.) Kelley's parents live on a lake and their dock is about 5-6 feet above the water during the summer months (9,10+ feet in the winter, and the drop doesn't bother the boys at all). Both dogs love going there and jumping off the dock chasing tennis balls. If I don't throw a ball for a while, Max jumps in chasing nothing.

Cooper is bigger at 105 pounds, bigger in every way: head, height, width, paws, tail . . .

But don't let his bigger size fool you. At least for a few sprints, he's about as fast as Max. The first few ball tosses (I throw one ball for each dog), Cooper is the first to the balls as often as Max. He doesn't have Max's endurance, though. When Cooper gets tired, he plods along after the ball. He always gets it, but he lets me know he's in no hurry. He's still athletic, though. He's a leaper. I love to lead him with long throws that bounce right in front of him. He leaps up like A.J. Green and snatches the ball out of the air, all in full stride. And it makes me feel like Tim Tebow - hey, don't laugh, Tebow is excellent at the deep ball!

We discovered Cooper's leaping ability the night we brought him home. When Max was little, we could put him on a chair or ottoman in the living room and he'd stay because he was scared to jump off. Cooper jumped off instantly, fearlessly.

Cooper's fearlessness and leaping ability proved to be a real pain for us as he lived in our laundry room for the first couple months. It was winter and we didn't want him outside in the cold. The baby gate that kept Max where we wanted him was no match for Cooper. We discovered this one night when we heard the sound of glass breaking. At first I thought someone was breaking in, but it was just Cooper. He'd leaped the baby gate and was destroying a glass ornament off the Christmas tree. I had to raise the baby gate so high that we couldn't step over it, and then block the open space at the bottom with my 60 lb and 55 lb dumbbells. One of Cooper's first sentences was, "YOU CANNOT CONTAIN ME!!!" (Our dogs talk to us, by the way, and each has his own unique sound. Cooper, being younger, speaks slower, isn't great with grammar, and struggles with bigger words. I could give you plenty of examples, but this is supposed to be a blog about KATE and the boys.)

I'm almost finished bragging about Cooper and trying to convince you that he's not a big slob. At the lake, Max launches himself off the dock for DISTANCE. He'd be a natural for that dog distance diving competition you may have seen on ESPN. Cooper couldn't care less about distance; he goes for HEIGHT. It's so funny. Max barely makes a splash when he lands because he's more or less skiing across the top of the water when he lands. Cooper leaps up as high as possible, and as you know, what comes up must come down. And he comes down with a mammoth SPLOOSH! When he rises back to the surface, THEN he takes off for the ball. Because he's so big and strong, he's a faster swimmer than Max. His big paws move a lot of water.

Being WATER DOGS, it's particularly funny that Cooper can't stand water from a hose. Without a lake in our yard, the next best thing for Max is the water hose. He jumps through the stream, "eats" it, and becomes a soaking wet mess. Meanwhile, Cooper stands behind whoever has the hose. If you come close to pointing it in his direction, he circles back behind you, saying, "I don't like getting squirted wif wah-der, y'all!"

To each other, Max generally acts like a wimp and Cooper acts like the boss. To anyone who attempts to walk in our yard, Max is the GREAT DEFENDER while Cooper invites them in to play. Everybody says, "It's that little one I'm worried about." To us, Cooper is the loving one, and Max is the hyper one. So, with their contrasting expressions, we've wondered how they'd be with Kate. We've had her around them since we brought her home and they've been pretty gentle - the harshest thing was a few aggressive licks we couldn't avoid. Yesterday I found out how they're going to be with her. I had her in the gym with me, nowhere near the door. The dogs usually lie just outside the door watching me. Kate crawled to them, and I cautiously started taking pictures. Here's what happened (Max has red collar, Cooper has black collar):

Kate's First Word

Lots of people told us Kate would say "dada" before she'd say "mama." I'm glad lots of people were wrong. Kate's been saying the "m" sound for a long time. Each morning when I take her to my step-mom, and each afternoon after I pick her up, she "talks" and it usually sounds like "mmmmmm." So I've encouraged it. I repeat "mama" and "dada" over and over.

Seems like dads would want their baby to say "dada" first, and moms would want their baby to say "mama" first. I've been hoping for "mama." Kelley is an accountant and she's been working crazy hours since January. She's had a hard time with it this year, because of Kate. She really only gets to see Kate for an hour or so at night, Saturday evenings after work, and Sundays after church.

Unfortunately for Kelley, Kate generally sleeps all weekend. I guess she has to recover from her weekdays of fun with Diane (step-mom). Some weekdays she won't even take a nap. But Saturdays and Sundays? She sleeps in long chunks and wakes up long enough to eat and play for maybe 30 minutes.

Over the past week, Kate has actually started saying "mama." She says it a lot. Kelley heard it before I did and when she told me Kate said it, I didn't believe her. The next morning on the way to Diane's, I became a believer. And I was happy - for Kelley.

Since she's already good at the "m" sound, I'm now saying over and over to her, "Max." Max is our older/smaller Yellow Lab. I say "Cooper," too, but somehow I think Cooper (our younger/larger Yellow Lab) is going to have to wait. With me.