Just One Father’s Day Gift Idea
Jun19

Just One Father’s Day Gift Idea

I considered writing a “Father’s Day Gift Idea” blog but there are too many of them, and honestly favorite gifts have always been handwritten notes and cards from my daughters. My 13 year old daughter, Genesis, has put some of the best combination of words together; she knows exactly what to say. My 7 year old, Olive, always brings her cuteness and lovability through colorful flowers and hearts. These things always end up in the tub...

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The Waiter That Saved Christmas
Dec25

The Waiter That Saved Christmas

I went to a small Mexican restaurant after Christmas shopping the other night. I had been there before but not for a few years. I showed up at 7:05, minutes after their happy hour menu ended. I wasn’t there for the beer, I wanted their Chile Verde Nachos, for half the price than the regular menu. Damn, and I barely missed it. The waiter walked over with a basket of chips, and salsa that was about to say, “Merry Christmas,” to my...

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‘I Want to Pee Like Daddy’
Sep12

‘I Want to Pee Like Daddy’

Two-year-olds aren’t made to be quiet, so when my daughter left the room and a few minutes of silence followed, it caused alarm. When I followed her, I found her atop the step stool with her hands on her cheeks, elbows on her knees with a pout. The most beautiful combination of words rolled out of her mouth like poetry: “I want to pee like daddy.” That was 10 years ago, when I was a 21-year-old boy with a daughter. I...

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Father’s Day Tips for the Young and the Restless
Jun15

Father’s Day Tips for the Young and the Restless

As a single dad with over 12 years of experience, two moms to communicate with, and two amazingly beautiful daughters, I’ve had my ups and downs.  I’ve been the custodial and the non-custodial parent. I’ve been married. I’ve been divorced. I’ve dated women who were horrible for my daughters to be around. I’ve been in loving relationships as well. One thing that I’d like to do this...

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Stepping Up to the Plate
May24

Stepping Up to the Plate

I was about nine years old when my parents would come home from work, shut their bedroom door behind them, and start arguing.  There wasn’t a pillow large enough that could hide me from the sound.  Parents try preparing their children for everything, but not this.  I’d leave the house to the nearby junior high where boys my same age practiced baseball.  You’d hear things like, “Two down,” from the chubby one with gear on behind home...

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