For the most part, here are the main characters of this blog. There are certainly some Oscar candidates involved.
Me: I hope to never make achieve the status of lead actor in this group, more of actor in a supporting role. Even though I am the patriarch of the clan, make no mistake, I have zero pull in the group. I've learned a lot of things as a husband the last 14 years, eight months and 26ish days -- if the lady ain't happy, ain't nobody happy.
I fancy myself a writer by trade. I just get paid by ETBU. I drive the oldest surviving pickup truck known to man; it's a daily prayer just making it back and forth to work. But it's paid for. That discussion stops there.
I love spending time with my kids. Don't get to do much of that this time of year, but it's a joy nonetheless. I believe the only way kids in general know they have a father is if that father is actually around. Sometimes I hit, sometimes I miss. But I think they realize I'm swinging for the fence every time.
Jeannie (wife, mother, musician, personal trainer): Jeannie is, well, I'll save all the really gooey stuff for a Valentine's Day post. I think I can say it best by saying she's my best friend, and fortunately I have lots of friends. I've made a lot of dumb decisions in my life, but marrying her is nowhere on the list. She's had to put up with a lot of the results of those decisions sometimes, but she does. That's love right there. She's the rock of the household. I'm more of the mud.
Coby (son, brother, ace pitcher, .290 hitter, piano player, spelling bee champ, heir to the empire): A million men might deny it, but they would be a million liars. We all want a son to call our own. And forgive me for the bias, but God blessed me with the best outside of His Own. We don't go out of our way to mention it to anyone, but Jeannie and I know Coby is the perfect kid. Firstborn, so that makes him special always. Only son, that's his own little niche there. But for the first 10 years of his life, he's developed this amazing habit/ability/penchant for succeeding at every thing he does. That's a pretty good track record for 10 years.
Example: we've been playing baseball for 10 years around our house. When the first word out of your child's mouth is "ball," well, you pretty much steer him that way. Coby plays on a traveling team out of East Texas, the THA Stix (THA stands for Thomas Hitting Academy). I'm not going to say he's a natural, but we work extremely hard and most of the time it pays off on the field. More about all that in coming posts.
This past year we switched gears and played a little basketball. Coby had never played organized basketball in his life, and I wasn't quite sure he even knew how to dribble. At first it was very awkward and humbling, nothing like baseball. But two months later, my son led his team to an upset in the league championship game -- scoring buckets, draining jumpers, dishing dimes and being lights out at the free throw line. And another proud papa in the stands.
Melody (oldest daughter, piano playa, violinist, voice like an angel, attitude to match, first-year softballer): Mel-mel. For those who don't know, that's not her real name. It stands for Melody, a name Jeannie and I fell in love with and just kind of seemed a natural fit on Nov. 10, 1998.
The Lord was working through us back then, because Mel-mel is a talented little girl with music. Just like her mama. Only one problem exists -- she doesn't always like to show it. Part of that is just shyness, believe it or not, and part of it is just being stubborn (see above "attitude to match" description).
We are working on entering the athletic field with her this year, and I have to say I'm quite impressed with her athletic ability. Very raw, and the stubborn part is still very much evident, but I think she'll find a way to get it done. She came home from school yesterday wearing a brand-new batting helmet -- pink with black stripes -- that Jeannie had bought earlier in the day. Season opener is tonight for SWAT (Softball With Attitude).
Abigail (baby, youngest and last child, Mickey Mouse fan, babysitter's dream): Our youngest child, born Dec. 28, 2006, is very lucky. She is the baby in a family full of mid-size children and aging adults who simply love her. There are a couple of cousins in faraway places who share her infant/toddler status, but she's the only one within an eight-hour driving distance.
Yes, there's eight-plus years between Mel-mel and Abby. Imagine what that kind of layoff can do to a dad. Or mom, for that matter. Although I think moms are bred for that sort of thing, everything comes much more naturally for them. I was completely out of practice when it came to changing diapers, mixing formula, geez, just preparing a diaper bag.
But we made it through the first year, which is usually some sort of indicator that things will at least not be so complicated. She can actually mouth a few words now, although she pronounces none of them correctly. But she's trying. She's got a little bit of that big sister attitude, but the great thing for her is she's still the baby sister so no one holds it against her.
You will like Abby. She's growing right before our eyes.
That's it, my little clan. We are not the perfect American family, but we are a family. There are also a lot of other characters in this blog, but these will be the main ones. Time to roll out the red carpet.
Me: I hope to never make achieve the status of lead actor in this group, more of actor in a supporting role. Even though I am the patriarch of the clan, make no mistake, I have zero pull in the group. I've learned a lot of things as a husband the last 14 years, eight months and 26ish days -- if the lady ain't happy, ain't nobody happy.
I fancy myself a writer by trade. I just get paid by ETBU. I drive the oldest surviving pickup truck known to man; it's a daily prayer just making it back and forth to work. But it's paid for. That discussion stops there.
I love spending time with my kids. Don't get to do much of that this time of year, but it's a joy nonetheless. I believe the only way kids in general know they have a father is if that father is actually around. Sometimes I hit, sometimes I miss. But I think they realize I'm swinging for the fence every time.
Jeannie (wife, mother, musician, personal trainer): Jeannie is, well, I'll save all the really gooey stuff for a Valentine's Day post. I think I can say it best by saying she's my best friend, and fortunately I have lots of friends. I've made a lot of dumb decisions in my life, but marrying her is nowhere on the list. She's had to put up with a lot of the results of those decisions sometimes, but she does. That's love right there. She's the rock of the household. I'm more of the mud.
Coby (son, brother, ace pitcher, .290 hitter, piano player, spelling bee champ, heir to the empire): A million men might deny it, but they would be a million liars. We all want a son to call our own. And forgive me for the bias, but God blessed me with the best outside of His Own. We don't go out of our way to mention it to anyone, but Jeannie and I know Coby is the perfect kid. Firstborn, so that makes him special always. Only son, that's his own little niche there. But for the first 10 years of his life, he's developed this amazing habit/ability/penchant for succeeding at every thing he does. That's a pretty good track record for 10 years.
Example: we've been playing baseball for 10 years around our house. When the first word out of your child's mouth is "ball," well, you pretty much steer him that way. Coby plays on a traveling team out of East Texas, the THA Stix (THA stands for Thomas Hitting Academy). I'm not going to say he's a natural, but we work extremely hard and most of the time it pays off on the field. More about all that in coming posts.
This past year we switched gears and played a little basketball. Coby had never played organized basketball in his life, and I wasn't quite sure he even knew how to dribble. At first it was very awkward and humbling, nothing like baseball. But two months later, my son led his team to an upset in the league championship game -- scoring buckets, draining jumpers, dishing dimes and being lights out at the free throw line. And another proud papa in the stands.
Melody (oldest daughter, piano playa, violinist, voice like an angel, attitude to match, first-year softballer): Mel-mel. For those who don't know, that's not her real name. It stands for Melody, a name Jeannie and I fell in love with and just kind of seemed a natural fit on Nov. 10, 1998.
The Lord was working through us back then, because Mel-mel is a talented little girl with music. Just like her mama. Only one problem exists -- she doesn't always like to show it. Part of that is just shyness, believe it or not, and part of it is just being stubborn (see above "attitude to match" description).
We are working on entering the athletic field with her this year, and I have to say I'm quite impressed with her athletic ability. Very raw, and the stubborn part is still very much evident, but I think she'll find a way to get it done. She came home from school yesterday wearing a brand-new batting helmet -- pink with black stripes -- that Jeannie had bought earlier in the day. Season opener is tonight for SWAT (Softball With Attitude).
Abigail (baby, youngest and last child, Mickey Mouse fan, babysitter's dream): Our youngest child, born Dec. 28, 2006, is very lucky. She is the baby in a family full of mid-size children and aging adults who simply love her. There are a couple of cousins in faraway places who share her infant/toddler status, but she's the only one within an eight-hour driving distance.
Yes, there's eight-plus years between Mel-mel and Abby. Imagine what that kind of layoff can do to a dad. Or mom, for that matter. Although I think moms are bred for that sort of thing, everything comes much more naturally for them. I was completely out of practice when it came to changing diapers, mixing formula, geez, just preparing a diaper bag.
But we made it through the first year, which is usually some sort of indicator that things will at least not be so complicated. She can actually mouth a few words now, although she pronounces none of them correctly. But she's trying. She's got a little bit of that big sister attitude, but the great thing for her is she's still the baby sister so no one holds it against her.
You will like Abby. She's growing right before our eyes.
That's it, my little clan. We are not the perfect American family, but we are a family. There are also a lot of other characters in this blog, but these will be the main ones. Time to roll out the red carpet.
1 comment:
It's fun to hear how much you dig your kids....now, hows abouta whole big blog on JBean???? She deserves it. And for those of us who hear you guys banter (skillfully - I admit), it might be nice to hear some mush. But let's keep it clean...this is a family blog.
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