4 Years Old

Maddox turns four this week. It's a happy time, I'm excited to see him enjoy the company of his friends and family, to get his presents, and to be the center of attention for a couple of days. The two birthday thing is about the only good product of a divorce, and I'm happy for him that he gets to enjoy it. He deserves it. But at the same time his birthday is tough for me. With each passing year he becomes a little more independent, he grows and progresses in so many ways. Another year means he's growing up too fast. His last birthday seems like it was a few weeks ago. In the last year he's started pre-school, in about a year he'll be starting kindergarden. I love to see all the new things he does and the great little boy he's becoming, but a part of me is constantly weighed down by this worry that it's all passing me by too quickly. Either way I'm glad I get to watch him have fun and eat some cake. Happy Birthday Maddox. (pics to come next week.)

MOAB

First of all it's been too long since I've written. Ever since I discovered twitter I've gotten lazy and left our little blog all by it's lonesome on the big bad internet. Maddox and I have been great. He is getting so big, so smart, and so funny. He's doing great in pre-school, and is now a proud big brother. Maddox's mom and her husband had a baby just a few months ago, and Maddox is a very proud and protective older brother. He's always thinking about how to make his little brother happy, and will sometimes find old baby toys of his at my house and take them with him back to his mom's house for Milo.

Last weekend we went on our first vacation in quite a while. We made a little trip down to Moab for the half marathon. We were accompanied by my mom, and my friend Tyler Hall. Maddox only refers to him as "Tyler Hall." Not Tyler, just the full name. Anyways, we were running in the race so my mom came to watch Maddox. The hotels and motels in Moab get booked very quickly for that weekend, as the race usually sells out. I was registered to run through Huntsman Cancer because I was running the race for them, but I had to find a motel. The only thing I could find was this little motel at the end of town that wasn't exactly the Four Seasons. This place was tiny, the tv was about 14", and there were two twin beds. The best part though was the smell, it was all wood, and the walls had been freshly stained or something. We felt like we were staying inside of my high school wood shop project. Maddox loved the place though. When we walked in he kept talking about how nice it was. He loved that he could jump from twin bed to twin bed. It got me excited for future trips with Maddox. He'll be easy to please for sure with accomodations. Anyways, the race went well, the food was good, and Maddox definitely took full advantage of the 'no naps and later bedtimes. By Sunday afternoon when we got home we were both beat. It was our first trip to Moab, but I think we'll visit many more times.

Bowling

Friday night I finally delivered on a promise that I made long ago to my son. We live about 2 stone throws and a hop skip away from a bowling alley. Everytime we drive by Maddox asks

me, "daddy, can we go bowling there next day?" I always respond, "yes, we will go soon." That's been going on since he was old enough to talk. I finally made good on my promise. It was a very nice time, minus Maddox smashing his hand with a bowling ball as he tried to pick it up, and him running to the arcade everytime his turn was over, and him throwing a huge fit when I tried to take off his bowling shoes. Those must have been the most comfortable shoes ever, because he would not remove them. I almost needed a crowbar to take them off, and then he cried about it for a good 15 minutes. I contemplated buying them from the bowling alley. I decided against it when I thought of adding a bowling shoe addiction to his tank top addiction. I would probably lose what custody I do have of him, if that ever happened. Anyways, we probably won't make it back to the bowling alley for quite some time, but at least I was able to follow through on my promise.

No More Freaking Tank Tops

At some point early this summer my son discovered tank tops. He calls them basketball shirts. There are 4 go to tank tops in his rotation, and 2-3 backup tank tops if daddy has gotten lazy with laundry duty. There is the silver basketball jersey with Michael Jordan on the front that he calls "my Lebron James" tank top. I'm not sure how he drew the conclusion that it's Lebron James, but I can't call it anything else or I'm quickly corrected. There is an awful bluish tie dye looking shark tank top that he got somewhere, I'm not sure where. Next is a black tank top that has a basketball, soccer ball, and a baseball, that my aunt Laura so nicely gifted him. That one I'm ok with. And last but not least there is the beauty he is wearing in the picture above while doing his shopping at Whole Foods. This one makes me laugh because you can see his belly really well when he wears it. The other two fall back tank tops are another basketball jersey that looks like a knock off Vince Carter New Jersey Nets throwback, and another shark cutoff t, because you can never have enough shark tanktops. In fact, the two that he has would only get him through about 30% of "Shark Week." The reason I'm writing this post is because he refuses to let summer die. He insists on wearing a tank top every single day. Rain or shine, Tuesday or Saturday, good day on the stock market or bad day on the stock market. He is consistent, firm, and absolutely set on wearing a tank top everyday, and it's becoming a problem. His mother and I have been trying to break the cycle, but we're in an uphill battle. He's started to make deals with us. Things like, "daddy, if I eat all of my food can I wear a basketball jersey when we get home?" Or, "hey, it's a sunny day, can I wear a basketball shirt?" We've come to an agreement that he can wear a tank top, under his shirt anytime we leave the walls of our home. And as long as he's a good boy he can wear the tank top around the house when we get home. My concern is this tank top is a gateway to bigger things, mullets, confederate flags, Lynyrd Skynyrd albums, poor grammar, a general disdain for authority figures, and a love for SEC football. Who knows, maybe I'm making a mountain out of a mole hill. Either way I'm tired of tank top season and ready for him to conform to real shirt season.

Super Busy

Things have been nuts the last couple of months. With work, summer travels, and such, things have been pretty hectic and I haven't done a good job of writing about our adventures. We've been doing a lot of swimming, not sleeping in our own beds (Maddox, not dad, and if dad does he certainly won't write about it on Maddox's blog), and playing with our family. Maddox is preparing for a trip to southern California in Sept., an Oct. Disneyland follow up with me, and most importantly pre school. It's killing me that he's growing up so fast. He makes me laugh everyday with the new things he says. Even though lately he's been telling me, "dad, I'm frustrated of you..." Everytime we don't do exactly what he wants to do. Maddox's mom and step dad are going to have a new baby here soon, he's excited to have a little brother, who he informed me last week he is going to name Harry. Other than that I can't think of anything else to write right now. Gotta get going, tonight is Maddox's pre-school orientation. I can't promise that I won't start crying during this. I'm so scared of him growing up.

"Just Like You..."

Last night I had an epiphany. I was laying in bed with Maddox, and we were talking about our fun weekend. I was telling him how much fun I had with him, and how much I was going to miss him today as he went back to his mom's house. I struggle often times with trying to be the perfect dad. It's an inner battle with myself, and it's a battle with time. I know that I don't quite get him 50% of the time. That's hard for many reasons, for one, I want to be a good dad. I want him to feel that I'm invested and involved in his life, that I'm there for him no matter what. And in full disclosure I struggle with feelings of inadequacy, and it's hard to think of myself as not being the most influential male figure in the life of my own son. This sounds selfish, immature, maybe even a little bit greedy. It's a battle with time, because I only get him about 40% of the time, and quite frankly, it sucks. I feel like I'm always racing to make up for the 60% of the time that I don't have him. Sometimes I wonder if he gets it. He's 3, he is excited to see me, loves coming to my house, etc. But it's hard not to feel like I'm in an uphill battle to establish the father/son relationship and life that I want with him. Everytime I discipline him I second guess myself. I always wonder if that's what he keeps in his little memory when he goes home to his mom. "Daddy put me in timeout 5 times, daddy is mean." I know this sounds ridiculous, and even if that were the case it would be better than the alternative, "daddy is soft, I can do whatever I want at his house and get away with it." But this is the type of stuff that enters my head. Being a good dad is such a focus in my life, that sometimes I let it get in the way of just being myself, and being what Maddox needs. That inner turmoil and strife can get in the way of listening to my fatherly instinct, I guess is what I'm trying to say. Anyways, back to my epiphany; we're laying there chatting it up, well, mostly me talking. Trying to convince him of what an amazing weekend we'd had. "We went swimming 4 times!!! That was so fun!!!! I can't believe those fireworks we watched!!!" And so I went on for a couple of minutes. And finally I told him, "Maddox, I'm so proud of you. You haven't had one accident the whole time you've been with daddy. That's 4 straight days of using the potty without 1 accident." He sat there for a minute, processed what I had just said, and got a big smile I could see through the darkness in the room. "Just like you daddy." I sat there just blown away by the sweetness of his tone. Then it hit me, he's trying to impress me just as much as I'm trying to impress him. Maybe I need to forget about myself a bit. I need to listen more to his needs, I need to tell him more how proud I am of his progress. How happy I am with who he's becoming. Somehow he thinks I'm pretty cool. And somehow he wants to be like me. So for one night I went to bed not tossing and worrying about what he thinks of me, and I hope he went to bed knowing what I think of him. I know that'll be the focus for me from now on, making sure that he does.

Funny Little Quotes

One of the most fun parts of watching Maddox grow up is hearing the funny things he says. Lately he's been saying a lot. Everytime I call my mom and update her she always says, "you need to be writing these down." So I decided that I would start listing them as they happen.

Maddox loves talking about people's physical features. For some reason right now he notices people's hair quite a bit. The other day he told me that someone he knows who's bald is old. I asked why he was old and he said, "because he has no hair. Daddy, you're new, you have lots of hair."

He also loves cars. Summertime is a great time to see car shows all over the Salt Lake Valley or Utah County. We stop in every chance we get. He always yells, "look dad, it's a CLASSIC CAR!!!" Or my favorite when we leave and are driving on the road he'll see like a 2001 Dodge Caravan or something and yell, "LOOK DAD, IT'S A CLASSIC VAN!!!" Recently he's started to try and talk like a 'car guy.' "Look dad, that's a 97-90 9er!" Basically throw in a few numbers and it sounds like you know what you're talking about, you usually need to finish with a 9er at the end though. It gets me everytime. Just the other day we were at the movie theatre in the parking lot and we saw a 67 99er. It was freakin legit.

He's also been learning to pray for things that really matter to him. For example; his grandma Patty has a room that no kids are allowed to go in. This is a serious offense that can render significant consequenses. Maddox's little cousin "LaLa" as he calls her, is always breaking that rule and getting into trouble. During his prayers the other night he said, "...and Heavenly Father, please bless LaLa that she can stay out of Grandma Patty's room." I was so proud of him, he was showing so much concern and regard for his little cousin's well being. He was worried for her.

The little man is full of gems like these. I'll try to do a better job of keeping track of them. Maybe I need to get him his own twitter account.