Max and Avery sittin' in a tree!

And, we're off!

Max is crawling now. In the span of just a few days he went from being on all fours rocking back and forth to full blown crawling. In fact, he's even started sleeping in the crawling position. He sleeps this way the entire night so that when he wakes up he has huge red blotches covering his knee areas.

With him crawling, there's a whole new meaning to when Shannon says, “Keep an eye on the baby.” Do you have an idea how much ground a 7 month old can cover when he crawls?

To look at him it does not seem that he is moving very fast. Turn your head for a second and he is across the room with one of the shih-tzu’s in a headlock. I am convinced that when I’m not looking, he stands up and runs across the floor.

What that also means for us, is we now have to look at everything less than three feet off of the floor. Especially the stuff that will fit in his mouth. What is funny about that is, when he is in his high chair I can’t pay him to eat a Cheerio. If I throw it on the living room rug, BAM, right in his mouth.

On the bright side, between Max and the dogs, we probably won’t have to vacuum as often.

He gets that from his mother.

We all have that internal clock that tells our body when to wake up. Mine has always had a built in snooze button. Shannon, on the other hand, will wake up at the crack of dawn even when we are on vacation. Without setting the alarm clock, she springs from the bed, wide awake, ready to take on whatever the day has in store. I prefer to ease into the day. I hit the snooze button and then do the math to figure out how much time I will have to get ready. This is not any easy feat considering “snooze” is 9 minutes. (Why did the alarm clock people settle on an odd number anyway? Why not 10?)Early in our marriage this was a source of contention. “How can you sleep away your off day?” Shannon would say. “I can’t! As long as you keep waking me up,” I would reply. She would then proceed to run the vacumn, dishwasher and any other noisy appliance.

Over the last 14 years I have “transmogrified” into a sudo-early riser. Gone are the days when I could sleep until 11 on a Saturday morning. Now, without any alarm or prodding from my wife, I will be up bright and early.

I say all that to say this. “My son is a morning person!” His internal clock is set to wake at 5:45 am. On the dot. (My alarm is set for 5:50 am.) Every morning, just before my clock radio sounds, I hear my young son jabbering on the baby monitor. He is happy and playful. Glad to be awake and ready to start his morning routine. Normally I would be less than thrilled to get up before I needed to, but I can’t get mad when I hear his little voice babbling.

All in all it is a nice way to wake up.

Movie Premiere

It's Max's movie debut! Enjoy!

Father's Day

Any time I get to spend the whole day with my son is special. Somehow, because it was my first “Father’s Day”, last Sunday seemed different. It felt more important. That morning, while I was sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee watching my son eat his cereal, I started thinking about what it means to be a father.

I am a little disturbed about how husbands and fathers are portrayed lately. Every year we, as a society, are subjected to silly TV commercials that depict the American Dad as a bumbling, mouth breathing, doofus. Father's Day is the day when he gets a new grill or power tool because he managed to screw up his previous one. I am not that guy. Most of my friends are not that guy.

So what do I think it mean to be a father?

It means that I have to work hard. Not only to provide for my family, but to set a good example for my son.

It means that things like motorcycles no longer seem important.

It means that I need to know how to change a diaper, prepare baby food and warm a bottle.

It means that when I play with my son, just like in rugby, I need to be prepared for a poke in the eye, a headbut or an occasional kick to the groin, all without getting mad.

It means I want to live a safer and healthier lifestyle because I don’t want to miss a minute of my son growing up.

It means that I would walk through fire and give my life for my child.

It means that no matter what kind of day I had, when I walk in the door and see my son’s face light up, everything is good.

I could go on for days, but you get the point. It was a good first Father’s Day.

Brick Sighting!

Thanks to cousins Dakota and Jake for confirming that Max really does have a brick at Wrigley Field and that I didn't pay a bunch of money for a brick just to sit on our mantle.

Max with his first real solid food!