Category: Family

Luca’s Baptism

For an hour today everything except my daughter took a backseat.

It was a wonderful, peaceful, spiritual hour.

Luca and I wore white jumpsuits as we sat next to each other in the chapel. She told me her feet were cold. I told her mine were cold too. She placed one of her feet on mine to prove hers were colder. They were.

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When it was our time, I held her hand as we walked down the hall towards the baptismal font. She entered the font through one door while I went through another.

Down the stairs and into the water we waded. She stretched her hand towards me not knowing how deep the water was. I whispered in her ear that everything would be fine.

A group of friends had gathered around the font to witness this special event in the life of our oldest daughter. I know Luca was comforted by the sight of familiar faces in the crowd.

After the prayer, I gently immersed her entire body in the warm water. She regained her balance and gently shook her long, wet hair. Everything was fine.

I kissed the top of her head before leading her back up the stairs where mom was waiting.

And like that, the hour had slipped away.

It’s now midnight in Seattle and the kids are down for the night. The house is quiet except for the dog snoring at my feet. I’m watching the snow fall outside the window on this cold, dark night.

These are a few of the details I will remember about the day I baptized our first child.

Because for an hour today, everything except my daughter took a backseat.

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Through The Window

She wasn’t expecting to see him. All she knew was that he’d  be at her baptism on Saturday. But she wasn’t expecting to see him at her school.

Yet there he stood in Lincoln’s classroom waiting for the bell to ring. A line of kindergarten students stretched across the room. Jackets were zipped and backpacks thrown over shoulders. Twenty little bodies of bottled up energy ready to burst out the door.

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I stood at the back of the line with my father. He’s not small in stature and, his booming voice can be intimidating. But he’s a gentle man with immeasurable love for his grandchildren. Although my mother has been ill for many years, making trips for her to Seattle a rarity, he’s flown up on his own every six months to see his only four grandchildren who live outside Utah.

Still waiting for the bell to ring. Once out the door we’d head down the hall towards Luca’s 2nd grade class where we’d hand out donuts to celebrate her birthday.

And that’s when I noticed a little girl with long brown hair wearing glasses and a bright pink shirt push her face up against the window. Her hair was wet and her glasses fogged up but that didn’t stop her from looking into Lincoln’s classroom. I waved, but she didn’t see me.

But when her grandpa waved, she saw him. Her eyes lit up and a huge smile stretched across her face. I turned to catch my dad with the same sized smile. Does it get any better than having your grandpa visit?

As I stood there taking it all in, I was filled with joy. This might be a very small slice of life. But sometimes the smallest slices are the most flavorful.

I’m thrilled my oldest daughter has a close relationship with her grandpa. I didn’t mind being overlooked as she peered through the window today. Her smile. That gorgeous smile told me everything I needed to know.

Telling Scary Stories

We have this ritual at our house where Kim takes the first crack at getting the kids to bed. Success at this stage of the night is recognized when each child has pajamas on. That’s when she clocks out for the evening and I’m supposed to use whatever means necessary to get the kids into their beds and down for the night. 

Kim thinks I should take a calm approach which includes using inside voices, a few hugs and lots of love mixed in with a story or two that doesn’t include monsters or robbers hiding under beds or in closets. 

But after 12 years of marriage, Kim should know better. My idea of getting the kids down is to wind them up to the point where there’s not a single ounce of energy remaining in their small bodies, and they collapse from exhaustion. Or just the opposite of Kim’s approach.

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Tonight I decided to tell Lincoln a scary story. For the story to be extra scary I lay next to him so he can see the expression on my face. I whisper certain parts of the story into his ear that always includes a big hairy spider coming out from under the bed or through the closet to wreak havoc on a normal 6-year old boy who happens to have three sisters and a dog and whose name begins with an “L”.

But any similarities to Lincoln is pure coincidence. He loves that part.  He grins knowing he’s in on the secret. Tonight’s story took off in a direction that wasn’t making much sense even by my standards.

And then Lincoln had a question that put everything in perspective.

“If I saw a spider, even a big one, why couldn’t I put my shoes on and just STEP ON IT?”

I started to laugh. Lincoln was laughing so hard I wasn’t sure he was breathing. We both recognized the absurdity of my story simultaneously and could not stop laughing. The more I laughed the louder Lincoln laughed as he rolled around the bed.

And then he laughed so hard he fell off the bed and onto the floor.

Of course, this made us laugh even more.

But sure enough. Once I helped Lincoln back into bed, kissed him on the cheek and pulled the covers up high (exactly how he likes them), he was fast asleep in minutes.

When Lincoln is older and doesn’t find much humor in my stories I’m going to remind him of the time he laughed so hard he fell out off the bed.

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Everything You Wanted To Know About Bakers

Something about Sunday brings out the chatty side of our kids.

It could have something to do with the fact their mom and dad ask them be reverent at church 450 times within a three hour timeframe.

But our children are still young and don’t understand big words like reverence so we revert to using phrases they understand like, “Please don’t make faces at the couple sitting behind us” and “The pulpit microphone is for giving talks NOT making fart sounds”.

The kids can barely contain their excitement once church is over, and they’re free to use their outdoor voices in the car on the drive home.

This is why we buy Ibuprofen by the case at Costco.

At lunch Luca asked me what I wanted to be when I grow up. Without waiting for an answer she began listing the reasons she wants to become a baker. Here’s what I learned about becoming a baker today from my 7-year old daughter:

  1. Bakers are free to to bake anything they want including cakes and cookies.
  2. Bakers ALWAYS get to lick to the bowl with a huge spatula.
  3. Bakers don’t have to share the bowl with their little brother or sister.
  4. Bakers get to wear the cool aprons.
  5. Bakers only bake the good stuff. No “vegetables and stuff like that”.
  6. Bakers get to stay up late baking stuff.

Given what I know now about bakers I’m slightly disappointed I didn’t become one. Who knew bakers don’t have a curfew?

I asked Lincoln what he wanted to be when he grows up. He thought for a minute before looking at Luca and then back at me. I wasn’t sure if he understood the question until he gave this answer:

“When Luca bakes stuff, I will test it to make sure it tastes good. I’ll be the tester”

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Catch Me If You Can

The details never changed including the shag carpet. “All In the Family” flickered across the TV. The space heater was cranked to the “sauna” setting. A service plaque from Delta Airlines hung on the wall over the exercise machine I never saw anyone use.

I’d take it all in as I carefully inched the door open. This was my grandfather’s lair, and I would find him sitting in his La-Z-Boy at the back of the room. His chair was reclined so far back I never understood how he was able to see anything on the screen. But he sat up straight when he recognized my voice.

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The room was dark. All I could see was the orange glow from the space heater and the images on the TV. My grandfather would ask me to flip the light switch and take a seat on the couch where he began asking me questions about the sport I was playing at the time.

My grandfather made me feel important. He was interested in what I was doing and never made me feel like the game or Archie Bunker took priority over our chat. I think of my grandfather each time hear the theme song from “All In The Family” or the stopwatch ticking from “60 Minutes”.

When he passed away a few years ago, I asked my father for a copy of a picture of my grandfather playing football at Westminster College in Salt Lake City. The picture was housed in a small gold frame, and it become a favorite among my siblings. But it was nowhere to be found until this past week when my father stumbled across it mixed in with a stack of family photos.

The over-sized pigskin. The lace up pants and leather helmets. The two defenders struggling to make a tackle. The old jerseys, the high-top cleats and handful of fans in the stands are a few details I’ve admired many times over the years.

But it’s my grandfather’s expression that pushes it over the top for me. I’ve seen that look of determination a thousand times. He was big and strong for the times, and I imagine him running over smaller defensive backs who tried to bring him down. This was true smash-mouth football.

I wish he were still around to talk sports with me.

I have no doubt he’d remember this play and could tell me how many yards he gained.

Part Time Cosmetologist

Some tasks have my name written all over them. Taking out the garbage, killing spiders and replacing light bulbs come to mind. I’m free to do these any day, any time.

Then there’s the list of jobs I’m never asked to do.

Just ahead of washing delicates is doing the girls hair.

But today was an exception because we were late for church and Kim was busy chasing after Kai.

I called Luca to the bathroom and pulled out a brush. She must have felt like she’d gone to an upscale salon only to find out a first semester cosmetology student would be cutting her hair.

“Wrong brush, dad”

Off to a good start.

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I open three drawers looking for one brush that – well – looks like a brush. Some of the tools I uncover look useful only if the goal is to remove sections of scalp. Definitely above my pay grade.

I eventually stumble upon a brush that doesn’t appear to have been created to inflict pain, and I begin to run it through Luca’s hair.

“Spray some of that first”

I pickup a small spray bottle that looks entirely too much like one I used on shirts I ironed a while back. No wonder they smelled strange.

This seems to help the comb move through the hair. I comb the sides and the back. We’re making progress. 

But when it comes to combing Luca’s bangs I have no clue. Right or left. Pulled forward or back. Nothing I do seems to look right. It can’t be this hard, I tell myself. Do I need more spray? Should I break out the hair dryer?

I need a miracle.

Just as I’m about to call for mom, Luca jumps up on the counter and looks in the mirror. She turns her head to the left. Then to the right.

“Looks good, dad”

She gives me a hug, jumps off the counter and runs downstairs.

Just call me Gene Juarez from here on out.

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Look Who Got New Glasses

I can’t imagine a 6-year old any more excited to get glasses than our Lincoln. He’s asked us each day for the past week if his glasses were ready to pickup.

Kim picked up her contact lenses yesterday and Lincoln was disappointed his glasses had not come in.

Tonight the call arrived. They were ready.

But it was 5:50 pm and Sears Optical closed at 6. I explained how excited Lincoln was to pickup his glasses and wear them to school tomorrow. If we arrived while he was still in the store he’d hand them over.

We jumped in the Odyssey and took off. I pulled into the parking lot and ran up to the door with Lincoln in tow at 6:10. I didn’t want leave him disappointed again, but figured at least we tried.

But we were in luck! A few lights were still on and we were invited inside.

Lincoln sat down on a stool. He couldn’t stop grinning. Nor could he stop twirling around in the chair and making goofy faces in the small mirror. The young man reached into a drawer and pulled out a small pair of glasses. He fiddled with them for a few minutes in order to find the right fit to Lincoln’s face.

I left this young man a tip and told him thank you for making our son’s day. As I opened the door to return to the car, Lincoln ran past me.

He could not wait to show his older sister his new glasses. If Luca approved of them, that’s all that mattered.

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What Kids Hear

I said, “Please pickup your shoes and put them in your closet”

Anna heard, “Please pickup shoes and toss down the laundry chute”

I said, “Find you sister and come upstairs for dinner”

Lincoln heard, “Find three more stars in Mario Galaxy”

I said, “Please drain the tub and dry yourself off”

The kids heard, “Please splash 20 gallons of water onto the bathroom floor and run around the house naked”

I said, “Please pull out your homework and finish your math”

Luca heard, “Please help yourself to bowl of Cheerios 30 minutes after dinner”

I said, “It’s time for bed”

The kids heard, “It’s time to jump on mom and dad’s bed”

I said, “Please feed the dog”

Anna heard, “Please feed your grilled cheese sandwich to the dog”

I said, “Wear the clothing mom put out for you on your bed”

Anna heard, “Put together the most hideous looking outfit known to mankind”

I said, “Please only use as much toilet paper as you need”

The kids heard, “Please use no less than 185 sheets at a time”

I said, “Please hang up your church dress”

Luca heard, “Please toss your church dress in the middle of the living room”

I said, “Walk as quietly as you can down the church hallway”

The kids heard, “Stomp your feet loud enough that everyone will know we have arrived”

We must speak a different language. Maybe when they reach middle school they’ll have the opportunity to learn the language called Parental English.

Because something is getting lost in translation.

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Most Days

Most days I set my alarm for 6:30 am.

Most days Elka nudges my arm with her cold nose if I try to sleep in.

Most days I hog the hot water with a long shower.

Most days I get dressed without waking Kim.

Most days I open the door to the garage without waking the kids.

But not today.

lucapigtail

Today Luca heard me leaving for work. She got out of bed and came downstairs as I was gathering my briefcase. She nudged herself close to me and put her head down. I could tell she was tired. Was everything OK?

I put down my briefcase and put my arms around her. She’s so warm and cuddly in the morning. In my rush to get out the door this morning I’d not given much thought to my family. I usually slip out unnoticed.

But today Luca noticed.

I picked her up and held her at eye level. She told me she misses me while she’s at school. I told her I miss her while I’m at work. She gives me a big hug around my neck. I kiss her forehead, and tell her we’ll see each other that night.

Most days I don’t give much thought to the time I spend away from my family.

But not today.

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Skip With Us

Luca held my left hand while Anna held my right . We were making our way through the mall looking for something to eat we could all agree on.

Mission impossible.

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In one ear I hear Luca chatting.

The other ear was getting a work out from Anna. 

“DAD! Nintendo. Pizza. DAD! Pants. Game. DAD! Pink. Candy”

It all starts to blend together.

But then we get to a section where the area is clear. No shoppers, strollers or kiosks selling blinking phone accessories.

That’s when I feel both my arms yanked forward in a violent motion.

“Skip with us, Dad! Come on!”

So the three of us skipped hand-in-hand through the mall last night.

That’s how I’d like to remember it anyway. Because if anyone saw us it probably looked like an an out-of-shape dad getting dragged through the food court by two cute little girls.