Nephew Huckleberry Sawyer

Exciting news. My sister had a Boy. No, his name is not Huckleberry.

Sawyer is healthy and hairy. 7 pounds and 15oz of hairy and healthy.  I'm proud to say I am related to a little Stouffer's French Bread Pizza that was smart enough to navigate his way out of a uterus and through the birth canal. Two of my boys waited to be C-sectioned the easy way out.

I got lost one October in the Corn Maze at Cotton Bridge Pumpkin Farm and I can only imagine his happiness seeing daylight for the first time like I did. But it's probably not the same.

The Grandkid Club? This makes 10 Boys. 5 Girls.  Really? Our Nana really has 15 Grandkids? Who would've ever thought that her limbido could still produce children through osmosis for generations? ....Can that really happen? Is that even possible?

My Mom has six kids. I am the oldest of us six kids.  Three Boys and Three Girls

My sister now has six kids - also 3 boys and 3 girls. (Plus chickens, I think, and maybe a donkey. Not vaginally of course)

Three and Three? Two generations in a row? What are the odds?

I can't wait to meet this kid and look at him in the eye and see if he looks like an alien or something.




Deep down - as a son, as an uncle, as a nephew and especially as a big brother... when I got the news she had her baby and everyone was healthy, I had this swelling feeling located around my sternum - deep in my chest that needed stifling - I was glad my sister was okay, glad the baby was okay...excited for her, excited for Ken...scared for her and scared for Ken.... totally wrapped up all in one.

Family is an amazingly powerful, rewarding, and yet totally scary Reality within the first days, don't you think?

I believe that they are a special family. They have a seriously special connection to something bigger than I could ever imagine.
Their six kids are blessed to be in their home. In that family.
I admire them.




Big Smile.
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Happy Easter

When was the last time you felt the wind in your face and the seaweed in your panties? And saw your children run with you and see them hope that they could jump as high as you someday?

Imagine the freedom. Let go.

Happy Easter.

I try to regularly recognize that we are put on this earth for a very short time. I look at some of the murderous headlines and I think what a waste. I look at some of the silliest kids toys made in China, and I think, geez, you dedicated your time on earth making that crap? I look at some of the crackheads walking the sidewalks outside my work, and I think, "Come on people! Really?"

And then I picture myself at Heaven's Gates, and I realize, uh-oh.... my talent in life is spinning a frisbee on my finger. I'm in big trouble.

Family has a way of putting things into a better perspective, don't you think?

I love being a Dad.




I am also the oldest of six kids. That's a pretty cool thing to be. It's also a pretty lucky thing to be while on this earth for such a short time.

We got to spend the last week with two of my sisters, Lisa and Kathy. I have two pretty amazing sisters. I have two pretty amazing people as my sisters.


While I am spinning a frisbee on my finger, I have one sister running her own business and raising two amazing kids with such a special bond, such a strong sense of ethics, christianity and wholesomeness that it is hard to even put into words. She is humble, self depricating, and beautiful. She is amazingly strong and articulate. Sis is strong.



My other sister has the most internally pure heart I have ever been blessed to know. She has two college age boys and yet she looks and appears younger than them both. Kat has battled her demons, faced cancer and has changed the lives of everyone she is close to. When I think of Kat, I think of her hands - she has these perfectly shaped strong hands that know how to handle whatever is placed in them. Kat is deep.

I've grown quieter the older I've gotten. I don't laugh out loud that often. I don't cry unhappy tears - but I do struggle to suck it up in real heartfelt moments during cinema classics such as Marmaduke or Happy Gilmore. I'm a sap.

But in my quietness, I question my existance all the time.

Having family here was very grounding. We didn't do anything special. It was beachtime and family time. Nothing about the week would ever be compared to a week at Disney.

But I quietly watched my sisters. I loved watching them be "them." It was like watching my boys be themselves when they didn't think I was watching. It has a way of putting myself in place in this big world of ours that we are in for a very short time.

I learned families are not perfect. We want them to be, but they are not. No matter what is worn, what is eaten, what our jobs are - the things that matter are outside ourselves.

We may be on this earth for a very short time, but every day is unique in itself. Hope is important. More importantly, Faith in that Hope is amazingly worth striving for, no matter how hard it might be to learn how to do that on a daily basis.

Having a voice your children respect will make an impact that will enrich their lives and the lives of those around them. Lisa has that voice. Kathy has that voice.

The house is quiet now. Easter dinner was just the four of us. The kids got Legos from the Easter Bunny - well, David had an issue trying to picture a fat rabbit hopping down the road in the middle of the night with a bunch of easter baskets and not being run over by a car... so I got a big ol hug and about 6 Thank You's for being the one that gave him his Lego Fighter Jet for Easter. The boys went with Mom to her meeting and learned about God and Jesus and totally behaved. Mom looked beautiful all dressed up. We said Grace, and I could still hear the voices of Lisa and Kat in our home.

I worked in the yard and tried to fix the sprinkler system to no avail. We saw friends this weekend. We laughed. We played. We sat out back and had a beer and took pictures of the boys being silly. Our neighbors across the street have a yard filled with family for Easter Dinner.

My sisters are gone, but it feels like Family is still here. I feel a little more grounded being a big brother. Being a Dad. I know I am not that great of a husband, but having my family here helped me realize - family is Family. Being a husband is harder than being a big brother. But having Hope and having Faith in that Hope is what makes Family be Family.

My journey still has time. I am on this earth for only a short, short time more. But I have faith in my Hope.


And I have faith I still have time to find my own voice.


Happy Easter.


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The Evolution of a 4-Year Old Miracle

Day 84 of cell-splitting after the arguement over what is more important, birth control or car insurance? Followed by a bottle of wine.

Year 0. The first 2 weeks where we learned the power of prayer.

Year 1. He must be my son. He has manboobs.

Year 2. Poor kid. Yep. Definitely my son. Just look at them circles under his eyes. He is SO my little Goof.

Year 3. It felt like he was 3 for 3 years. I don't ever want him to grow up.

Year 4. Happy Birthday my little goof with manboobs and circles under his eyeballs.

Some random things I will remember to this point and hope I never forget?

Matthew gives the best hugs ever. EVER.

His favorite word is Banana.

Michele got him his first pair of flip flops. He was so proud. We came home from the beach that afternoon, he gets out of my truck and suddenly I hear, "DAHHMMIT, I GOT DIRT ON MY BLIP BLOPS!" He was barely 3.

Matthew loves food, juice more than milk, puzzles, Spiderman, Superheroes and falling down to get a laugh. He knows that Zorro's horse is named Tornado.

He's got these cute little freckles. He likes making funny faces and then denying them when I try to make him do it again in front of his mother.

He can count to 22 and knows his ABC's. He loves books, coloring and drawing spiders with 84 legs and drawing Ninjas in every color combination his markers can handle.

He knows what "Yes Please" means in our house. Sorry about that.

He is independent and stubborn. But very cuddley and loving. I love pulling into the driveway. He runs out to the truck and gives me a big hug when I get home from work. Each morning, he gives me a heart-melting hug, and kisses me on my nose when I go to work. Let's say I forget my sunglasses and I have to come back inside for a minute, he has to start all over again. I just love that.

He'll sit with me Saturday mornings, and watch the sun come up, quietly and peacefully while everyone else is still asleep in the house. It's the best. He loves being outdoors.

He can throw a frisbee with great spin.

Crazy kid knows movie lines. He likes School of Rock. He wants a big dog in the worst way, but we have George the Orange Cat that likes to lick its missing balls on our pillows and scratch our eyeballs out when he feels we've met his petting quota. But Matthew loves him the most out of all of us and believes he can do no harm

He loves his faded, stretched out Red Sox T-shirt and wearing his Bosox cap backwards. And then he struts around like he is way older than he is.

He loves to run. He takes off and has this way of tilting his head and looking at his shoulder, like he's checking his form, and to see how fast he is running. I don't ever want to move into a place without a yard to run in.

He amazes us with his comprehension and his ability to recognize A+B=C, if you know what I mean... He just seems like a smart little kid that gets it, and can put 2 and 2 together. Even though he is incapable of containing a silent thought.

Our friends surprised us on the night of his birthday with an ice cream cake, and I overheard Matthew say:

"I thought 5 came after 3, but I am only 4."

I love My Little Monster.

Happy Birthday My Little Unexpected Miracle.

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