Seeing It (Again) Through Their Eyes

Yesterday, our family embarked on our first post-school summer trip: Chicago! Having grown up not far west of Chicago, it's a city I've been to countless times. Though I love it, it doesn't have a "new" feeling anymore. However, it's Finn and Pax's first-ever time in Chicago, and it's been a real treat so far. Sensory overload at its finest. We grabbed some Chicago-style pizza, hit a massive candy store, and walked alongside Michigan Avenue and the river. Not too shabby for our first few hours in the city.

There's something different about being present for other people's first-time experiences, especially kids. It's almost like we get to experience it for the first time again. I felt like a little kid showing off my favorite toy. It was pure joy to show the boys a city that's been part of my life for as long as I can remember.

We're staying downtown, making a pilgrimage to Wrigley, catching a Blue Man Group show, scoping out The Bean, and spending some time at the Museum of Science and Industry. We'll have Italian Beefs, hot dogs, and probably enough ice cream to make President Biden blush. It won't be an inexpensive trip, but man, we'll be investing in memories. 

I've had many profoundly memorable experiences throughout my life. Seeing the Great Wall, exploring the Mongolian wilderness, wandering the streets of Hong Kong, country-hopping the Middle East, and adventuring through Europe. All of these memories are special to me. But there's nothing more special than experiencing something through another's eyes. It's the power of community and shared experiences. It's the bonding that happens. An unspeakable connection that we know will last a lifetime. 

Investing in memories is an amazing endeavor, but doing it alongside people we care about ratchets it up to a whole new level. I made my first trip to Wrigley when I was seven years old, then proceeded to visit it at least one time per year for the next 20 years. It holds a special place in my heart. Tonight, I get to take my own seven-year-olds to their first game at Wrigley. I can't wait to invest in those memories and watch the game through their eyes. It may be my 100th trip to Wrigley, but it might as well be my first.

Juicing Meaning With Tradition

Today’s post is brought to you from a tent in the middle of nowhere, hacked out on my phone. I’m on a camping trip with the boys, and we are having a blast.

As I always say, we need to invest in memories. Memories are the one thing we can buy that won’t one day end up in a landfill. Memories are forever. Memories bond us. Memories are intertwined with meaning.

There is one way to juice up memories, though: when they are shrouded in tradition. This camping trip, for example, is a Shelton family tradition. It’s the fifth consecutive year we’ve done it, beginning when the boys were just three. We anticipate it each year. The boys talk about it the months leading up to it. They share stories of past trips and plan all the activities they want to do on the upcoming trip. Just last night, we rode horses, shot BB guns, ate too much food (including s’mores, of course), and played soccer. It was a blast.

Camping trips are always fun, but traditional camping trips are juiced up. There’s something extra special about them. I hope one day my kids tell their kids stories about this tradition. Heck, maybe they will even be inspired to create their own traditions when they become parents.

Here’s the thing about traditions. They don’t need to be elaborate, expensive, or over the top. We have take-out pizza and watch a movie every Friday night. That’s a pretty simple one, but it’s impactful. It becomes part of our family’s rhythm. It creates anticipation and excitement. It juices the memories.

As my kids get older, it’s fun to let them help craft the traditions. They have ownership. They have creative liberties. Through it all, it’s about investing in memories, and perhaps juicing them up.

Traditions + Memories = Extra Meaning

What are some of your family’s traditions?

Finny’s Accidental Seed

After school yesterday, the boys and I decided to play basketball at a nearby park. As we stepped outside, a young man (maybe 12 or 13 years old) walked past our house. He was pushing a lawnmower with a weedeater perched atop. I greeted him and asked what he was up to. He pointed to my neighbor's house and said he was about to finish mowing it. This sparked me to ask a handful of questions about his little business. I loved his heart and desire to create a business. 

The conversation concluded with me asking if he wanted to mow my yard. He shared his pricing and told me he could mow it immediately if I wanted. I pulled out some cash, handed it to him, and he immediately got to work. At that moment, I turned my attention back to the kids, and we resumed our walk to the park. That's when an unexpected conversation occurred:

Finn: "Did you just pay that kid money to mow our yard?"

Me: "Yeah, man! I was going to mow it this weekend, but now I can spend more time with you guys, instead." 

Finn: "You mean he gets to play with a mower AND get paid money?"

Me: "Yeah! He's helping us, so he gets to earn money for doing it." 

Finn: "Dad, can I mow people's yards and get paid money when I'm his age?"

Me: "Yeah, bud! That sounds awesome. There are a lot of ways we can help people, and mowing is one of them. I'd love to help you get started if that's what you want to do."

Finn: "Can we buy me my own mower this weekend so I can start practicing?"

Me: "......."

I could see Finn's wheels turning. He was inspired, encouraged, and extremely excited. A whole new world of possibilities opened up in that moment. Truth is, I wasn't intending for my interaction with the young "mowin' man" to be a seed-planting endeavor. And I know the young mower didn't, either. Despite that, an accidental seed was planted with little Finny. Perhaps that seed will die......or maybe it will grow into something beautiful. I don't know which way it will go, but I'm excited to find out in due time. 

To be honest, I don't even know what the takeaway should be for today's post. I just found the story surprising and uplifting, and thought maybe there's a nugget in there that can add value to your day. I love that young mower's heart and work ethic. I love Finn's curiosity and internalization of ideas. I love the fact I can spend a few bucks to free up more time with my boys this weekend. I love all of it. 

I hope you have a wonderful day. Keep planting those seeds.....the intentional ones, and the accidental ones. 

Small, Tiny, Unexpected, Amazing Wins

Parents, do you ever wonder if all your hard work is paying off? Seriously, it usually seems like our words are in one ear, out the other. Are they even listening? Are they even watching? Is it moving the needle? Am I completely screwing them up without even realizing it?

Then, out of the blue, when you need it most, you get the tiniest but most amazing win.

That happened to us yesterday. We were in the middle of a tough stretch. Finn didn't want to get dressed for church, and Pax stormed out of the room after I beat him at checkers. It was a mess. Pax recovered quickly, but Finn was spiraling.

Sensing this situation was heading in a bad direction, Pax took matters into his own hands. He walked into his bedroom, grabbed his wallet, and returned to the living room where Finn was melting down. I didn't know what he was doing, so I just kept my mouth shut and watched as a curious third party.

"Finn, I'll buy you a donut at church today," he said, reaching into his wallet to find a $1 bill. Finn wasn't in an emotional place to receive the gift, but I was so proud of Pax!

Pax is starting to understand the purpose of money. He's figured out that it's best used (and more fun) to make a difference in others. This isn't the first time I've seen this behavior from him, and I hope it won't be the last.

Money isn't easy to come by for a 7-year-old, so it's pretty sweet to see him proactively and excitedly try to use it to bless his twin brother (who was treating him poorly, by the way). I won't say he "gets it," but he's showing signs of starting to get it. As his parent, I'm definitely going to encourage the heck out of him. The seeds have been planted, and now we water.

Parents, keep your eyes open for the small, tiny, unexpected, amazing wins. We need them. Sometimes, that's the one thing that gives us enough energy to keep going. Small wins are still wins, and small wins will eventually turn into big wins. Keep watering!

“Daddy, When Does the New Month Start?”

I received at least a dozen messages about yesterday's post. Specifically, people were curious how we have open financial conversations with our kids (at age-appropriate levels) while avoiding them feeling the weight of it.

It reminds me of a recent interaction in my house. As I was working on something, Finn approached me with a question. "Daddy, when does the new month start?" "In about a week, bud. Why?" "I want to go to Chuck-E-Cheese to play games. Can we put it in the budget next month?"

I loved his heart in the question. There's something important to him. He recognizes it costs money. He also knows we handle our finances with intentionality. Therefore, he asked if we could prioritize it in the budget.

My response to him? "Of course we can, bud. But we might actually still have money left in the kids category this month. If we do, we should totally go to Chuck-E-Cheese today." I opened the budgeting app and we looked at how much was left. $75! He celebrated wildly, and then a few hours later, we shared laughs over Chuck-E-Cheese games." Side note: Did you know they recently got rid of their creepy animatronic band? I was so mad. Despite being terrifying, that dysfunctional band was a fun remnant of my childhood.

The narrative of our family's money conversations is intentional. We never use the phrase "We can't afford it." Those four words are the ultimate parenting shut-down. It wins the conversation every time. However, it also confuses our kids. For example, if our kid asks for a $30 Lego set and we respond with "We can't afford it," the child may think we literally don't have $30. It also leads them to believe that if we did have $30, we would 100% buy it. It's a weird narrative for kids to wrestle. All the while, we parents are oblivious to how these comments impact them.

Instead, we should talk about money through the lens of intentionality and prioritization. If our kids want something we aren't willing to buy right now, Sarah and I respond that "it's not in the budget this month." We CAN afford it, but it's not part of the plan right now. From there, we can choose not to prioritize it, or discuss adding it to a future budget. Either way, approaching things from the intentionality angle staves off the "I want it now" syndrome.

When we take this approach with our children, they learn the importance of patience, prioritization, planning, delayed gratification, communication, and responsibility. They also learn it's okay to buy fun things. We don't demonize wants. We don't treat fun purchases as wasteful. It's all part of developing a healthy perspective around spending, saving, and giving. Spending on fun things is important.....but it must be done responsibly. Even a seven-year-old can comprehend this if approached well.

Parents, what say you? I'd love to hear your feedback on this topic and any other ideas for engaging in healthy money conversations with your kids.

Don’t Let the Kids Feel It

Today was (hopefully) the last of a string of dentist appointments for one of our kids. It's been an expensive few months. We're grateful for our medical sinking fund, but it's starting to put some pressure on our monthly budget.

Today's post isn't a sob story about our recent medical costs. Instead, it's about something often associated with expensive times in life. When these situations arise, it's common to discuss them verbally. Communication is good. Conversation is good. Discourse is good. All good.....with one exception. We need to ensure the kids don't feel it.

We parents, whether intentionally or unintentionally, are placing immense guilt on our children. Kids feel the weight of this burden. They carry it perpetually. "Do you know how much this is costing us?" "Wow, that appointment was expensive." "We're paying a lot of money for you to ____."

These single, seemingly innocent comments can have a detrimental effect on our kids. I have clients who share stories about remarks made by their parents 25 years ago, and as a result, they've refused to accept any help or aid from them ever since. These are deep wounds. Kids, turned teens, turned adults who feel like they are a burden to their own parents. Their parents probably haven't even thought twice about their seemingly innocent comment since the moment it left their mouth 25 years ago, yet it's impacting their relationship decades later. That's how powerful the weight of this guilt feels to our kids.

While I will openly discuss finances with my kids (to varying degrees), I will never openly discuss how an activity/expense tied to them impacts us. We need to let our yes be yes, and our no be no. Sports and school activities are a prime example of this. It's common for parents to say yes to something, but then perpetually hold it over their kids' heads. I know parents aren't doing it to be intentionally hurtful. Rather, they do it as an incentive or an act of accountability for the child to follow through. But I also know the damage it's causing to our young people.

Don't share that burden with them. Share it with each other. Share it with a friend. Share it with me. Just don't share it with them. They aren't yet able to process something like that in a healthy way. Let them remain kids. Say no if you need to say no, but please don't say and then hang it over them. Future you will be grateful for this choice when your kids haven't carried that unknown guilt for decades.

You got this, parents! It's not easy, but it's worth it.

The Kids Feel It

There's one statistic that lives rent-free in my head. I've mentioned it multiple times on this blog, in the podcast, and in my keynote talk. According to a Gallup poll, 70% of Americans dislike or hate their job. It's actually higher than 70% since they recommissioned the study post-COVID, but 70% is a nice round number and rolls off the tongue. 7 out of 10 Americans!!! It's bonkers. It's also normalized in our culture. Not only is it ok to perpetually hate our work, but we believe that's how it's supposed to be.

Do you know who doesn't find it acceptable? Our kids. In fact, they profoundly feel the impact of our work. We parents might think our kids are isolated from the realities of our work, but that's a naive notion.

I first became aware of this dynamic when I began my tenure as a youth group leader. Without fail, kids would constantly bring up their parents' work (and rarely in a good way). When this happened, the conversation didn't revolve around how it impacted the parent. Instead, it was about all the ripple effects impairing the family. The parent is always in a bad mood. The parents were stressed and fighting. A parent is always working and doesn't have time for their kids. So many deeply woven implications.

This post, however, was inspired by a different sort of conversation I recently had. I was talking to a seven-year-old. It was a silly, meandering conversation, as often happens with first-graders. Then, this little boy randomly dropped a different sort of comment as his smile vanished. "My mom is really stressed at work. I don't like seeing her like this all the time. I just wish she would get a new job."

I don't know this kid's parents. I've never met them. But the look on his face spoke volumes. A few more comments were solemnly shared about this situation, and then the conversation suddenly shifted back to fart jokes and superheroes.

Parents, our kids deserve better than this. We can try to hide our work reality from our children, but it leaks into every area of life. This makes sense. If we spend half our waking hours living somewhere between mere tolerance and absolute disgust, it inevitably shows through.

There's one other consequence. If 70% of us parents dislike or hate our job, and if it truly does leak into the other areas of life (which our kids see and feel), it creates a generational implication. We are raising our children to believe work is an inherently bad thing, a necessary evil. It's something we have to do, and it sucks. It's supposed to suck. I'm watching this dynamic play out in real-time with youth group kids, former youth group kids, and fellow parents. Our culture is completely polluted by the idea that work is bad. It's a shame.

This piece isn't my condemnation of parents. Rather, it's a rallying cry. Your kids deserve better. But first, you deserve better!

Once a Cheater

My kids enjoy playing at a local trampoline park. When we go, Pax's favorite area is the dodgeball court. Yes, trampoline dodgeball.....it's as fun as you'd think. However, there's always one glaring issue at play: cheaters galore. A kid gets hit square in the chest, then acts like it never happened. Another kid catches a stray on the leg, and completely ignores it. Everyone pretends like it never happened. Then, when other kids start calling people out for their cheating, the lies start flowing out of their mouths. "I hit it with the ball." "It hit the wall first." "Someone caught it."

When I watch these dynamics play out, all I can think about is the saying, "Once a cheater, always a cheater." It isn't absolutely true, but there's certainly some truth to it. Cheating is a slippery slope. It starts out like an innocent game of dodgeball. There are rewards for this level of cheating. You don't have to exit the game and wait for your turn to go back in....and you help your team win. And when someone calls you out as a cheater, you just deny it, and there are really no consequences. So, from an early age, we are taught the pros of cheating outweigh the cons.

Again, it's fairly innocent, and there aren't any significant victims. However, if someone is willing to lie and cheat on something with nothing material at stake, how will they behave when there's something real on the line? Maybe it's that math test. Maybe it's clocking in 15 minutes before a work shift technically starts. Successful cheating breeds more cheating.

Again, these aren't life-altering crimes. Over time, though, we get older, the stakes rise, and we become more confident/comfortable in our cheating ways. Also, as time passes, it doesn’t feel so innocent anymore. Now, there are real victims.

We all know cheaters in our lives. They range somewhere between annoying and revolting. These are the people who cut corners, look for the easy way, find loopholes and technicalities, turn their back on obligations, and betray someone for a few dollars. These types of people often find success at the micro level. They score an opportunity here or a deal there. They benefit where they can. They are transactional. They are always looking for an edge. And they find it….for a while.

However, these types of people usually lose in the long run. People lose trust in them. People tire of their games. They don't have any actual discipline or work ethic to carry them when the cheating behavior stops working.

As parents, we must teach our children the proper way to behave. We need to teach (and more importantly, model) a zero-tolerance approach to cheating. It needs to carry into every area of our life, including the simplest and silliest little games. Doing the right thing is always the right thing, even when it doesn't benefit us.

The slippery slope is indeed slippery. Together, we can help bend the culture in a positive direction….but it starts with our own behavior.

One Fear at a Time

Confession: I like encouraging my kids into uncomfortable and scary positions. Instead of trying to ensure their comfort, I find ways to make them uncomfortable. It's all contextual to age, of course. I wouldn't throw a seven-year-old onto the street at 11 PM and wish him luck. It's little things at their age. Making them pay for something independently at a store. Coaxing them onto a roller coaster. Trying new and unique foods. None of these things are life-altering, but each propels them to the next.

Yesterday was a new one. The boys and I bought tickets to play at an aqua park at our port stop in Haiti. Think of it as an inflatable obstacle course in the deep water of an ocean bay. The boys were excited, but a bit nervous. As our reservation approached, we walked out onto the long dock, fastened our life jackets, and listened to the safety instructions. When it was time to jump in and swim to the obstacles, Pax seized up. Fear had overcome him. I think it was a combination of a fear of sharks snacking on his little body, the fact he couldn't touch the bottom, the long swim, and the uniqueness of the attraction. I held his hand and said I would count to three, then we'd jump. At about two, he started wimpering and changed his mind, but I made an executive decision to pull him in with me on the third count anyway (bold move, I know).

As soon as his head crested the surface and he realized he wasn't dead, he smiled and excitedly started swimming toward the first obstacle. That began a fun and exhausting hour of climbing, jumping, falling, and splashing. They both had the time of their lives, and we made some fun memories. As I do every night, I asked the boys what their favorite part of the day was. Pax: "The ocean obstacle course."

I'm such a believer in confronting fears. Not all at once. One fear at a time. Each time we conquer one (even a small one), it gives us momentum and confidence to face the next one.

Food is much the same way. In our family, we don't get free passes to say "no" to food. There are no special kids' menus or accommodations. They don't have to like it, but they do have to try it. And if they try it but don't like it, that's ok. But they will never know unless they try. Not every food is a hit, and sometimes it can be ugly. On the flip side, their fear turned to tolerance, and their tolerance turned to a fairly diverse palate. It's the power of confronting one fear at a time. If they had it their way, they would have stuck to eight lame items and simply "not liked" everything else. Instead, we pushed them every step of the way.

One fear at a time. You'll thank yourself later.

Pax sitting in the hot tub, enjoying the view, after returning to the boat in Haiti.

Pigs Over Money

Our family will be taking our first cruise soon. I never thought I'd be a cruise guy, but it made sense with the age of our kids, the number of activities available, a robust children's program (#datenights!), and the fact it's a safe, contained environment. Who knows, maybe I'll come back with a whole new perspective (and fandom) of cruises. Crazier things have happened (such as Rex Grossman leading the Bears to a Super Bowl).

I don't like planning my day-to-day activities on vacation, but I now realize that's critical in the cruise world. This includes on-ship activities, as well as port activities. While scanning the various port options/excursions, one caught my eye: Pig Island! Have you ever heard of Pig Island? It's exactly what it sounds like. It's a bunch of wild pigs that live on a tropical island, and you can go play with them. Visiting this place has been on our bucket list since we married. Now, it shows up as a port-day option for our upcoming cruise! It's fate!

I was pretty excited.....until I saw the price: $700. Ouch! That's a lot of money to pay for a 5-hour excursion, especially considering our entire 6-night cruise cost us $1,800 (children-cruise-free promo!).

These are the types of dilemmas I love. It doesn't intuitively make sense. There's no world where spending $700 to swim with pigs for a few hours feels rational. On the flip side, this is a bucket list activity for us. It could very well go down as one of our family's favorite all-time travel memories....or not. But there's only one way to find out. That's the risk....and the opportunity.

We decided to book it. While the financial cost is expensive, the memories and shared experiences will be priceless. We probably won't remember what it even cost when we wake up ten years from now. But those memories will last a lifetime. Here's one last thought. There's very little chance we'll regret doing it, but on the flip side, there's a high likelihood we'd regret not doing it. I hate living with regret. Take my money, pig people!

Meaning Over Money. Strike that. Pigs over money!

Build-A-Memory

Yesterday was a big day in our house. Finn cashed in on a Christmas gift by creating his own Build-A-Bear stuffie. He was beaming, as any new stuffed animal father would be. It's safe to say that he'll be talking about this for years to come.

Do you know how much it costs to buy a Build-A-Bear stuffed animal? Far more than a stuffed animal should cost. In many cases, 3-4x what you'd typically pay for a similar stuffed animal. It's wild.

However (and this is a big however), you aren't really buying a stuffed animal. Sure, you walk out of the store with a cute little stuffie. But that's not what you're actually buying. Build-A-Bear is in the memory-selling business. Every part of the experience (from the moment you walk into their store until the moment you walk out) is a curated experience to create a lasting memory. From the selection of the body, filling it with stuffing, to the little heart-insertion ceremony, to the accessorization, each part of the sequence builds upon the prior.

People can criticize Build-A-Bear all they want, but that company understands something vitally important. Their value proposition is far more than the physical object they are selling. That's why they can sell so many units at a staggering price. They know who they are, they know who they serve, they how to serve them, and they know what they are selling them.

My wife recently had a similar experience. My gift to her was one of those necklaces you design, and they literally fuse it onto your body. It doesn't come off. It's permanent. The only way to remove it is to cut it off. She chose a simple chain with three birthstones: September (the month Finn and Pax were born), October (the month they became part of our family), and June (the month their adoption was finalized in court). Similar to the stuffie, Sarah's necklace cost more than you'd anticipate. Also similar to the stuffie, this company understands they aren't in the necklace-selling business. They are in the legacy business. They help women create pieces that will theoretically be attached to them for the rest of their lives. There's a special sentiment in that process. That's what people are really buying.

What are you really selling? We're all selling something. We all wake up each morning and do something with our time. Those actions and that work can provide something meaningful. Maybe you sell coffee like my friend TJ. Or maybe you train basketball players like my friend Anna. Or maybe you sell insurance like my friend Ben. Or maybe you raise your kids like my wife Sarah.

Whatever you do, look one layer deeper. What are you really selling? Instead of coffee, TJ really sells smiles and hospitality. Instead of training, Anna helps young ladies develop confidence. Instead of insurance, Ben really sells peace of mind. Instead of "just staying home" (I hate that phrase!), Sarah is molding the next generation of leaders.

Sell what matters.

Every Meal Matters

My family recently had the most wonderful dining experience. The food was enjoyable, we had great conversations, our waitress was sweet, the kids had fun, and most importantly, we created some fun memories. It was one of my favorite dining experiences ever. Pretty impressive for $50, eh? Oh yeah, and it was at Perkins. I don't have any photos of the food or profound insights to share about the culinary delights, but I do have this little gem.

To understand why this meal was so special, I should offer up some context. It was a Sunday night, and I was preparing to leave town for the week. The kids were noticeably sad about the prospect of me leaving. We spent the day playing X-Box, watching Elf, and doing chores around the house. But as the hour neared for Sarah and the boys to drop me off at the airport, the kids' spirits diminished. While finishing my packing, Sarah suggested we stop for dinner on the way to the airport. After a quick Google search, she suggested we hit up Perkins, which was right next to the airport. That's the origin story of our amazing dining experience. 

A few things about this meal were different:

• The kids got along remarkably well (which is a departure from their normal twin brother antagonizing).

• They both sat in their seats like actual sane humans (this is a new and exciting twist).

• They excitedly read the menu for the first time ever (those new reading skills are starting to come in handy!).

• We enjoyed fun conversations about the weekend, the upcoming week, and other various 7-year-old topics.

• The kids were excited about their food selections, and eagerly shared theirs with the family.

• Everyone at the table knew I was leaving, so it felt like we were all trying to soak it in. 

This meal was absolutely nothing special, yet it created a seared-in memory for me. We don't need to drop hundreds of dollars to have a good meal. The restaurant doesn't need to have Michelin stars attached to its name to offer a high-quality experience (though I'd take some Michelin-starred dining right now!). The food doesn't have to be fancy or exotic to check the right boxes. Rather, it's the memories and shared experiences. I'm going to think about that meal for a long time. That brioche French toast wasn't necessarily life-changing, but I'll be craving that taste for a long, long time. 

The goodbye hugs were extra long that night. Pax, with a face covered in pancakes, added a few extra firm man pats to his hug. In Finny fashion, Finn threw out a random science fact as I shut the door. All seemed right with the world. 

There are so many lessons to glean from this story. I'll let you take from it what you will. Here's my parting thought: don't waste meals. We only have so many before we die, so make each one count.

Don’t Wait Alone

Yesterday, our church celebrated its 25th birthday. The service was a series of stories, testimonials, and interviews with people who have been part of our church over the years. Awesome day! Through it all, the concept of family and community kept coming up. This felt fitting, as the people in our church are family to us. We've experienced so much life in the 12 years of being part of our church, which flooded my mind as I sat there.

One particular memory stood out. It's a story that I don't often share. I had an inkling to write about it, but I was unsure. Then, something happened. Or rather, someone happened. My friend Suzanne was on stage sharing about her journey. She ended her story with three powerful words: "Don't wait alone."

---

Sarah and I started trying to have a child when we were right around 30. We had been married for a few years at that point. Those first few years of marriage were spent traveling, paying off debt, enjoying being together, and learning how to be husband and wife. Then, the day came when we knew it was time to have a child. It's a pretty simple process, or so my fifth-grade science class taught me. Our reality was anything but simple.

After about nine unsuccessful months, we started getting worried. That began a brutal series of medical consultations, tests, procedures, and suffering. We were in our early 30s, facing a fork in the road. The fork wasn't medical...it was community. We were surrounded by countless people who loved us dearly, yet we were suffering in silence. This was our fork. We could either a) continue to bear this weight alone (while people would likely talk behind our back), or b) allow others to carry some of this weight and be there to support us. We chose the latter. We chose transparency.

What came from that experience was absolutely life-changing. We were in the midst of the most painful season of our lives, yet experiencing the beauty of true community. We suffered, but we weren't alone. Every step of the way, people were there to pick us up when we couldn't.

One of the most powerful moments of my life was sitting through service on Father's Day, just two days after losing a child that would have made me a dad. It was arguably the worst day of my life. I could have stayed home and hid, but I needed my church family.

Family cuts both ways. On the one hand, they are there to mourn with you, but on the other hand, they are there to celebrate with you, too. Just four months later, we became parents to two beautiful baby boys. Our church family was right beside us, celebrating like it was their own. I couldn't believe how happy everyone was. It was almost like these children were theirs......and in a way, they were. It's a true love I hope my kids someday recognize.

"Don't wait alone." You got that so right, Suzanne.

Today is the 7-year anniversary of bringing those two little 4-week-olds home. It’s typically called “gotcha day” in the adoption world, but we just call it the day we became a family. We will celebrate by sharing pictures, videos, and stories with the boys. Oh yeah, and maybe some treats. Below is the first photo taken after bringing the kids home on that crisp October 23rd morning.

The Years Are Indeed Too Short

"The days are long, and the years are short."

This phrase was said to me multiple times when my kids were infants. I definitely understood the "days are long" part. With newborn twins, just the 16 bottles per day part felt long. On the other hand, I didn't fully understand the "years are short" part. Everything just felt long....and exhausting.

The boys turned seven yesterday, and we had a great day celebrating. Soccer game, roller skating, ice cream cake....lots of fun stuff. Wow, the years are indeed short. The twos and threes stage felt brutally slow, but they went from four to seven in what seemed like a month. I once read that 75% of all the time we spend with our kids will happen by the time they turn 12. Yikes! That's a staggering statistic. And a depressing one, at that.

Money can buy a lot of things, but it can't buy back lost time. It can buy houses, cars, and technology, but it can't give us back the time, memories, and moments we lost. Over the last few years, as I began to realize the years go by far too fast, I thought I had a solution. I thought if I just tried really hard to live in the moment, it would make time slow down. Turns out it doesn't work like that. Therefore, I eventually conceded that time will fly by no matter what we do, so we might as well embrace it for its rapidly moving beauty.

Happy birthday to Finn and Pax, and I'm excited to experience whatever time I'm blessed to have left with them. It's days like yesterday when meaning over money becomes even more glaring and obvious. Leaving my prior career and starting over 4.5 years ago was one of the scariest decisions of my life. I felt reasonably confident in my decision when I first made it, but that decision has been affirmed over, and over, and over again through the years. Not because it's been easy (it's actually the hardest thing I've ever done), but rather because it matters.

If you're ever teetering on the fence of meaning vs. money, look your children in the eyes. It only takes about 0.2 seconds to realize which side of the fence we should land. Meaning. Always meaning.

The Painful (Yet Beautiful) Cost of Parenting

Today is a big day! Not only is it one of the biggest college football games of our season (Iowa at Iowa State), but it’s Northern Vessel’s official launch party for our new canned cold brew partnership with We Will Collective (Iowa State’s NIL collective). We’ll be setting up a tent alongside We Will, where our entire Northern Vessel team will be there to celebrate the launch, eat good food, and have a fun time together. Many friends, former Iowa State athletes, and other big names will also be stopping by the tailgate to say hello and grab some cold brew (35,000 cans fresh off the line!). Word on the street is President Trump and several other 2024 presidential candidates will also be floating around the premises.

It will be an absolutely fantastic event…..and I’ll miss most of it. Bummed doesn’t even begin to describe how I’m feeling right now. This is the type of thing we’ve envisioned since relaunching Northern Vessel in November 2022. This is the next step of TJ’s dream, and being able to support him is one of the greatest privileges of my life. Yet, I’m going to miss the majority of it.

Why? Finn and Pax have a parks and recreation soccer game this morning. They really want to play, and just as important, they want their dad there to cheer them on. I remember back when I dreamed of one day becoming a father. I made a promise to myself that I would make every one of my kids’ games, concerts, or other events if I had the power to do so. I also think back to my own childhood and remember fondly that my parents rarely missed a game. They didn’t have to be there, but they somehow sacrificed to always be present. If my memory serves me correctly, my mom only missed two basketball games in my entire 5th-12th career (in one, I scored 47 points, and in the other, I was carted out of the gym on a stretcher with temporary paralysis). I always loved having my parents there and want my kids to have the same thing (not the life-flash-before-their-eyes injury part, though…..that’s a story for a different day).

Can we parents all agree that this isn’t easy? In the chaos of life, it’s hard enough to keep my head on straight with the everyday things in my life…..never mind all the extracurricular activities. And the crazy part is, we’re not even into the thick of it yet. We have a few first graders just now getting into sports and other activities.

I’m very torn today. I’m mourning the loss of missing this important event. However, the decision was pretty simple. Many years ago, I made that commitment to myself to be present when I eventually became a father. This is where we find out if I was just talking the talk, or if I’ll walk the walk.

Oh yeah, Go Cyclones!