Dominican Sunrise

La Salida del Sol

A friend of mine has a son who just got his mission call to the Dominican Republic.  I had a lot of fun going through old mission pics and reminiscing about my time there to put together a quick blog post for their family last week.

Then, this week, one of my good friends from the D.R. posted this picture from the D.R.  I decided I had to post it, but I wasn't sure how to work it into a post or when.  Initially I assumed that this picture was a sunset, but then I realized that it was actually a sunrise.  (Because of the D.R.'s location in the Caribbean Sea, sunrises tend to be over the water and sunsets are over the land.)

Anyway, Elder Jordan H. and all of my other blog readers, I hope that your day today is as beautiful as this one!

3 Fun Things For St. Patrick's Day

Leprechaun Hunting:
I walked in last night to see R. setting up an elaborate leprechaun trap last night.  It was amazing how much thought and time went into it:

R.'s Leprechaun Trap

As I noted in a past post, my kids still believe in leprechauns.  Apparently.  If leprechauns really exist, I hope they're the nice cartoonish kind.  Not the kind in some of those horror movies.

We woke up this morning to find out that R.'s trap didn't work.  Those mischievous, impish leprechauns had instead decided to wreak their own peculiar brand of havoc on our family room.

Cushions were overturned, green yarn was strung haphazardly about, milk had been mystically turned green, and a trail of gold foil wrapped chocolate coins led down the stairs to the scene of the crime.

My kids were thrilled!  Special thanks to a sweet sister who donated most of the materials used by those "leprechauns."  J.D., you are so thoughtful!

St. Patrick's Day on a Sunday:
Did you notice how many people at church today were wearing green?  I did and I was not one of them.  I literally have basically nothing in my wardrobe that is green.  Last month, I actually bought a green running shirt so that I would have something to wear on St. Patrick's Day.  Apparently, I didn't realize that I wouldn't be able to wear it for church!  #Fail!  (Never fear, though, I'm wearing it now!)

E. relaxing in my chair.

M. has been super cute today.  Just now he was crawling back and forth through my legs.  I wonder if he knows that that type of behavior only makes him more adorable.  Earlier at church, I got him to fall asleep in my arms during third hour.  He never does that.  I love that I feel like we are developing a bond even though he's not even a year.

On the other hand, sometimes I wonder if I'll ever truly bond with E.  I was watching a show by myself after church and she came in and managed to persuade me to turn off my show, turn on some Barbie DVD, and then sit all by herself in my chair.  Maybe I was just charmed by her cute green shirt (which matches my new one) and green ribbons in her hair.

Actually, I call them "green" but there's actually probably  a much fancier term for it (lime green?)  When it comes to colors, I feel like I'm doing well to know the basic ones--you know, ROY G. BIV plus some more "exotic" varieties like black, brown, pink, navy.  :-)  I've always freely proclaimed my fashion limitations--even in my blog posts on the topic.

3 Fun Facts About St. Patrick:

St. Patrick

• St. Patrick initially went to Ireland as a slave.  He was captured from his home in Britain at age 16 and taken to Ireland where he was enslaved for 6 years before he escaped and returned home to his family.  He later returned as a missionary and remained in Ireland for the rest of his life.  He is thought to have died around 460 A.D.  He died on March 17th (St. Patrick's Day).

• The shamrock is an important symbol of St. Patrick because he used it to teach the people the doctrine of the Trinity (three in one and one in three).

• According to legend, St. Patrick banished all snakes from Ireland.  What is more likely, however, is that there never were any snakes to banish in the first place.  No snakes are known to have ever migrated on their own across an ocean to live on an island.  New Zealand, Iceland, Antarctica, and Greenland are also islands without any native snake populations.

In Chicago, they turn the river green for St. Patrick's Day

But maybe one of the most fun things about St. Patrick's Day is how we, as Americans, have taken it and turned it into our very own holiday with our own fun traditions and celebrations.  What are you and your family doing to celebrate St. Patrick's Day today?

Daddy Day Care

Okay, I know that technically it's not "daycare" or "babysitting" when it's your own kids, but it is rare for me to be in charge of all the kids by myself.  I got that chance Saturday morning.  Here's how the day went...

I had a basketball game at 8:00 a.m.  I know it's just Church basketball, but we have some really good players on the team and they are nice enough to make me feel like I actually contribute something when I come play.  But today, I didn't play.  At 7:15 a.m., I had to text my teammates to let them know I couldn't play because I was in charge of the kids.

S. had a Little League game at 9:00 a.m., which meant that he had to be at the field at 8 a.m.  I rushed him over there, but of course, E. didn't want to be left at home, so I brought her as well.  I had to pray the M. wouldn't wake up while I was gone.  I left R. in charge of M. in my absence, and hoped that the neighbors wouldn't call the cops to report that the children had been left home alone.  (Like they actually did one time!)

Ju-Ju-Be's Be Hip Bag--Perfect for Daddy Day Care

Then I came home to get the kids ready to go with me to the game.  R. wasn't feeling that great, so I made the executive decision to leave him at home.  I had actually been counting on him to help me with the younger kids at the game, so it wasn't great news that he couldn't make it.

It took a few minutes to find my Daddy Diaper Bag.  I bought it for myself in the run-up to Christmas and had it all stocked with everything that I thought I would need (i.e., diapers, formula, bottle, wipies, and plastic bags.)  Yes, I know that the color is a little boring, but apparently the most important thing in a bag is that it be wipeable--and this one is!  Ju-Ju-Be has really awesome colors and patterns for their bags, but as a guy, I'm really looking for something that isn't going to draw a lot of attention.  I need to remind myself to add a ball and some toys to the bag for our next outing.  Otherwise, this was perfect!

I got a call from my parents in Colombia on the way to the game.  I don't get to talk to them as much as I'd like, so I found myself carting M. in one arm and a diaper bag, folding chair, and E.'s hand in the other as we walked up to the game.  I probably shouldn't give myself too much credit for that balancing act though.  I have a sneaking suspicion that moms do that all the time.

My cell phone dropped my parents' call as we actually reached the field, which may have been a good thing because I had plenty to keep me busy once we got there.

I got to spend a lot of time holding M., which was actually pretty fun.  He is growing so fast and he's not going to be little for very much longer.  He is definitely our biggest kid and has a pretty healthy appetite.

M. playing with one of our neighbors

I got to put my diaper bag through its paces at the game.  M. needed a diaper change and I totally had it nailed.  The Ju-Ju-Be bag comes with a memory foam changing pad and I threw that down and took care of business.  The plastic bags came in super-handy as well (what would I ever do if those things ever get banned???).  I'm feeling really good about the diaper bag and I'm excited to use it again.

Doesn't M. look comfy?

We had this cute grandma and grandpa couple next to us as well as some of the other moms and they kept on remarking on what a good baby M. was and how cute he was.  What could I say?  I couldn't agree more!  I felt like I had this baby-watching stuff totally under control.

I think E. dressed herself this morning.  But I still think she looks cute!

I admit being pretty focused on M. while E. played on the small playground right behind us.  I remember E. coming over a couple of times to check in with me and I was kind of congratulating myself on how well things were going.  Famous last words...

A few minutes after I took those pictures above, I decided to check in on E.  I looked for her at the playground.  Couldn't see her.  I started calling her name, but there was no response.  I wasn't too worried, but went to check the bathrooms.  Both of them.  Nada.  I went to the soccer field next door--calling her name increasingly more loudly and with increasingly more urgency.  No one had seen her.  I couldn't see her.  My pace quickened as I started checking the far side of the baseball field--she was nowhere in sight.

I completed my circuit and got back to the playground.  I was holding back the panic and was wondering if it was too late to call 911.  My calls for E. had attracted the attention of some of the other moms at the game.  Even though I hadn't asked for their help, they were jumping in to aid me and I could tell that they were concerned as well.  It actually gave me some comfort.

Just when I was ready to give in to utter panic, I spotted E.  She was on the playground at the bottom of the twisty, covered slide.  Apparently when I was looking for her, she had been playing inside the slide and either didn't hear me or didn't respond.  I told her how scared I was and that she needed to always be somewhere where she could see me.  I felt a little silly that it ultimately turned into a false alarm, but the experience made me realize how quickly something bad could happen.  I need to make sure I keep an eye on them!

I think M. is tired.  :-)

Have I mentioned how long these Little League games can be?  M. was an absolute angel, but toward the end (and after the excitement having me carry him around the field in our search for E.), M. started to get tired and would bury his head in my chest.  It was very cute.

Once the game was over, we loaded up the car and I decided to take the kids to Chick-Fil-A to get everybody lunch (and take advantage of our 50% discount).  I had a sneaking suspicion that M. was not going to make it all the way home.  I was right.

My little angel

I got the kids home, made sure they were fed, put M. in bed to continue his nap, and sat down on my bed for a second.  And I woke up 4 hours later!  Apparently, M. wasn't the only one who was wiped out by the morning's events.  Watching the kids is exhausting!  How do you moms manage to do this every.single.day???

Field of (Foggy) Dreams

Hitting in the fog--If you look closely you can see the blur of the pitch as it speeds toward the batter.

R. had another baseball game last night.  Even though I feel like Spring is right around the corner, last night's game was anything but Spring-like.  It was cold (54 degrees at the field in Dana Point) and damp.  You could literally see the fog and mist rolling in from the ocean less than a mile away.

Despite the fact that I was in a long-sleeved dress shirt, I was cold and I actually grabbed my spare jacket out of the trunk of the car.  I tried to send several texts, but my fingers were numb from the cold, damp coastal air.  My thoughts on Little League baseball are too complex and conflicted for this post.  But if my own kids weren't playing, there's no way that I'd ever spend more than 2 minutes at the ball field.

As miserable and physically uncomfortable as I was, R. was even worse.  R. is 11 years old, but has really only played about 2 years of baseball in the past 4.  He has a lot less experience than the other boys.  The coach told us that when they pick teams at practice, R. is always picked last.  When I got to the game, I checked the line-up card.  Sure enough, R. was in his usual position--batting last (signifying that he is the worst hitter on the team).  R. got up to bat 3 times tonight.  He struck out every single time.

Normally I love the fog, but this fog held a more somber feel to it.

On defense, R. only plays in the field about every other inning because he really hasn't mastered a position on defense.  I realized at one point that he was shivering because his uniform wasn't warm enough for the cold.  I took off my jacket and gave it to him.

As a parent, I could sense his frustration and disappointment mount as the game went on.  I know that tonight's game was anything but fun for him.

I don't care whether the team wins or loses, but I want R. to be able to experience some success and to have fun.  Is that too much to ask?  As a dad, I feel like a failure.  Little League was always fun for me.  I had good friends and teammates, made all-star teams, and liked playing.  I'll never forget hitting a home run over the fence for the first time when I was about 12 years old.  It was a play-off game and I was the lead-off hitter in the game.  We won 1-0.

While some of my teammates went on to play in college and the minor leagues, I stopped playing baseball when I reached high school because my passion was stronger for other sports.  I've never regretted the decision to hang up my cleats, but I'm glad that I played.

I want R. to be able to have those same experiences, but it is just not possible to "download" my baseball experiences into R.  Instead, I am trying to be supportive, positive, and encouraging.  Two years ago, R. told me that his dream was to be a professional baseball player.  I'm sure his "dream" tonight would be to quit.  But I'm not in the business of raising quitters.  And even if R. never plays another inning after this season, I want him to feel like he gave it his best shot.

If you build it, they will come...

I don't have any answers for R. or for the questions and concerns that I have running through my head.  When we got home, I suggested that R. and I watch a movie together.  I wanted to cheer him up and that seemed to work.  At bedtime, he asked for me to come in and read to him.  I did, even though I probably should have been braving the cold and fog to put in some mileage in preparation for Oceanside.  I guess I feel like being a dad is more important than getting in my own workout.

I'm grateful for R.'s coaches and his teammates who have been patient and supportive.  The other parents have also been incredibly nice, even though I really don't even know their names yet.  It is a little humbling to see strangers who are willing to help your child.  And I hope that I am reminded of this the next time I have the opportunity to pay it forward by coaching or cheering for a team.

R. may never make the Olympic baseball team, but I'm okay with that.  We all have challenges in life.  But the important thing may well be how we choose to respond to those challenges.  As a kid, my mom made us memorize this poem.  I can still recite it to this day:

Stick to your task till it sticks to you; 

Beginners are many, but enders are few. 

Honour, power, place, and praise 

Will come, in time, to the one who stays. 

Stick to your task till it stick to you;

Bend at it, sweat at it, smile at it too; 

For out of the bend and the sweat and the smile 

Will come life's victories, after awhile. 

-Anonymous 

Ralph Waldo Emerson (and President Heber J. Grant) said: "That which we persist in doing becomes easier to do, not that the nature of the thing has changed, but our power to do so is increased.”  Even if R. doesn't get a single hit the entire season, is it too "touchy-feely" to think that R.'s season will be successful if he learns the power of persistence?  As R.'s dad, my job is to try and teach him these types of lessons.

That doesn't necessarily make the current situation any easier for me though.  This experience is making me think that sometimes the toughest challenges in life may be the challenges that we witness our loved ones struggle to overcome.

So while I struggle to help R. improve his baseball skills and learn persistence, I have some areas of my own life in which I can experience growth--including having more patience and kindness.  And even if things seemed a little foggy last night, I can still hope that R. will achieve his dreams as the fog lifts and disperses--whether those dreams involve the baseball field or another worthy goal.

Beware the Ides of March

Et tu, Brute?

Today is the 15th of March, which makes it the Ides of March.  This exchange was heard this morning in our office between one of the younger employees and one of the attorneys:

Attorney: "Beware the Ides of March."
Employee: "Is that something from the 70s or something?"

Buh-dum-bump.

Man Shall Not Live on Bread Alone

The summer after law school, I somehow managed to wrangle an invitation for our family appear on the television game show "The Family Feud."  I had handpicked my team for success and we didn't disappoint.

During our episode, one of the questions that the other team got asked was: "Name something that humans need to survive."  Well, the other team got the easy ones: food, water, and air.  But they struck out when it came to the last one.  I'm proud to say that we huddled up and nailed it--stealing the points and sealing the win.  The not-so-obvious answer: SLEEP!

It's a good thing that was a few years back because in today's world, I think that we'd have to add another one...internet.

Our house has been without internet service for nearly two days now.  After 7 loyal years of service, our wireless router finally crapped out.  I can tell you it wasn't pretty.  iPads didn't work.  Kindles functioned only as paperweights.  Kids cried and whined.  And the adults probably did too.

Our new router!

As I initially tried to troubleshoot the problem two nights ago, S. kept on telling me that we needed to hire an "electrician."  It was kind of cute, but it also wounded my pride (slightly).  Yesterday, S. apparently kept telling several of our neighbors that we needed to hire an electrician.  I'm sure they thought it was pretty cute too.

However, I'm proud to announce that we are back online!  Silly S.!  You don't need an electrician, that's what dads are for!  Your dad diagnosed the problem as a bad router and ordered a new one.  He got an assist from Amazon in the form of free one day shipping and after a few minutes tonight, the internet is back in business at our household.  Hallelujah!  (And after a day full of frustrations, it's nice to have something that's actually working the it's supposed to!)

While the internet may not be as essential to human survival as bread, it sure does make things a lot easier (and more fun)!

Jog-A-Thon

25 Laps!

Yesterday was R. and S.'s annual elementary school jog-a-thon.  (Do you remember last year's jog-a-thon?  I do and this time I decided to NOT wear my jeans!)  Anyway, just a quick disclaimer that this post is probably mostly for grandparents, grandparents located in South America, and other close family members.  I'm not sure I'd want to subject anyone else to reading through the rest of this post!

Both R. and S. really got into it this year and for some reason they each told me how much they wanted me to be there.  I got there in time to take pictures of S.'s event and then I decided to run with R. to get a little workout in.

Exhausted!

S. was so proud of doing 22 laps "and no water!"  He was telling everyone that.  You can pretty much tell that he didn't drink any water from his picture above.  The first thing I did was get him a big bottle of water and make sure that he drank the whole thing to get him hydrated.

The track itself was 0.09 miles long (so 11 laps to the mile).  It was also very narrow and packed with kids, adults, teachers, etc.  It was pretty much chaos.  I tried to go across the track to get some pics of S. and pretty much took my life into my hands.  I was nearly run down by dozens of manic, munchkin kindergartners!

Cool down for S.

R.'s class did their portion of the jog-a-thon about an hour later.  The actual "jogging" part only lasted for 20 minutes, but it was chaos.  I'm seriously surprised that no one got run down out there.  Here's some shaky camera work as I tried to keep up with R.

If you look closely, you can see R. do a little horse-dance shimmy to the song "Gangnam Style."  R. has actually got an impressive repertoire of dance moves from that song--a talent which he most certainly did not inherit from his dad!  How does he have the energy to throw these dance steps in at Minute 17 of a 20 minute run?!?

In the end, I was proud of how hard each of them ran and surprised that I had to work so hard to keep up with R.  R. did 25 laps for 2.16 miles in 20 minutes.  S. did 2.0 miles in 20 minutes.  They were also both really tired after their runs, which means that they were working hard.  I couldn't afford to be tired since I had to go to work afterward, but I did have a lot of fun.  And it made for some good father-son bonding time.

I'll leave you with a quick video clip of S., showing how tired he was after his run (I love his body language!):