Thankfully we have Mom's. (And Dad's.)

“I know that I surprised you comin' home

It's not my usual time of year

But I've got myself a problem

And I know that I might find the answer here

Remember when I was Dad's pride and joy

And your little man

Every time that I got hurt

You were there to give a hand

You'd pick me up and you'd kiss my hurt away

Remember what you'd say

‘Boy, you're gettin' more like him each and everyday.’"

There’s little doubt, when you live in our home it’s pretty easy to figure out who is the most important person who resides at our address---hint, it’s not me.

When there’s a scrape, bump or hurt heart, I am not the one who is turned to---it’s my wife Susan. She is the one who can understand what needs to be said right at that very moment. She can kiss the hurt away, and bring it all down to a manageable level where smiles return, tears dry up, and the yelling turns to small whispers. She is a Mom and she is good.

What she doesn’t always see, we do. She’s someone we all count on in our home; yet she doesn’t feel she always does the right thing. On a rare occasion this might be true, but she does have a lot of experience and she does know how to handle a lot of different situations---she is for sure the hardest working person I know.

Mom’s have to juggle and when it looks easy, you are witnessing a pro.

My Mom was always good at keeping things in order; sure there were times when she was challenged with very difficult situations, but she raised 3 kids who miss her like you cannot believe. Probably the memory I remember most was when I had my “heart hurt” by someone I really cared about; she didn’t even have to ask what happened, she read me like a book. What amazed me was how she knew what chapter to open to get me back on track again. Although it was a painful memory that still resides somewhere within me, I certainly recovered.

The photo above was taken at the Morton Arboretum recently; like many paths in life you see the stepping stones that take you on a journey of a lifetime. For us who know the path, it seems like very little changes---but for those who need someone to walk along side them, they are the most important steps you can take.

Thanks for stopping by.

The kid whisperer.

“Oh, Im not living without you, not living without you

I dont wanna be free

Im staying, Im staying

And you, and you, and you

You're gonna love me.”

Sunday night, for the first time, I saw a show called, “The Dog Whisperer.” I am not going to say I didn’t think it was a bit hokey, and had it not been on a “pet channel,” I know it would never have seen the light of day. But it has been on for more than one episode, so I assume a lot of people watch it. We did, so they at least have one viewing family.

After watching it, and witnessing our youngest daughter have a “major meltdown” over our unwillingness to invest another $5.00 in an online game called, “Pet Pet Park,” she let us have it. At nearly 7 years of age, she has picked up some of the “wonderful” traits that we had hoped had avoided her---however, they came through loud and clear.

We gave her a time out, but that didn’t seem to work as she began packing her clothes for a journey “that was going to take her away from the meanest parents in the world;” she said, “we must not care about her because they won’t give her 500 coins to be used in this online game.” We suck is how I interpreted it.

Susan and I were outside her door, and we could not help but laugh (lightly) as we heard drawers opening, and closing, all in preparation for our youngest to walk out of the house and be on her way. She was “serious, and she was not going to live with us any longer.”  I started to visualize her walking down the street, hopping on a train to Chicago, and trying to check into a hotel with a blanket and very small bag. I know I am mean, but it was really funny.

Since we had yet to eat dinner, I was running out to Trader Joe’s to get some food and left the situation in much better hands. All I could think about as I drove was, “I wonder if there is a market for a ‘kid whisperer’?” One where you can use sound to stop a child from misbehaving--or at least make sure they know they can’t act that way. Enough of Super Nanny and all the other reality shows, this would be one that had a serious side, but also let parents know we are not alone.

When I came back home, the tantrum was over, she was now in her pajamas and she let me know she was sorry. But she still asked about spending the $5.00. It’s her money, but I think it’s a good idea to let them know, there are better things to do with it. That’s my point of view, not hers of course.

 The photo above is of our 4 daughters who up until mid-August lived in our home. The oldest one did pack her bags, and whereas she didn’t hop on a train or check into a hotel, she did travel well beyond the boundaries of Glen Ellyn. She is in college. For the rest, who are still at home, any more tantrums and I am going on the web in search of the “kid whisperer.”

Thanks for stopping by.

Mean.

“You, with your words like knives

And swords and weapons that you use against me

You have knocked me off my feet again

Got me feeling like a nothing

You, with your voice like nails on a chalkboard

Calling me out when I'm wounded

You picking on the weaker man.”

Recently I was talking with a friend, and a certain person came up who brought back some very bad memories from when I was growing up; in other words, he was never a friend of mine. In life, I try to “like” as many people as possible (not Facebook “like,” I mean those I really enjoy being with or want to get to know). Sure there are some people, where no matter how hard you try, it just doesn’t seem to work. But in general, even those who are not very kind, have some redeeming values. Usually.

Unfortunately we all have memories---or perhaps that’s a good thing. I guess it all depends. When I attended my first high school reunion it had been 20 years since I had seen the majority of the people who at one point I saw each and every day. There were the groups who made up the jocks, social sets, and those who fell into many other categories. If you were in the “many other categories”, you knew where you stood---on the outside looking in. Some of the people I was hoping to avoid, were the ones who I spoke with and they have actually changed---others, there was no hope.

But things are changing and that’s what today’s “Snap.Shot.” is all about.

Recently, we went to one an open house for one of our daughters, and the next morning we went to a meeting for another one of our daughters. What has impressed me about today’s educators is how they are real people and really want to help make a difference; it’s not like they were robots. When I was growing up, I will never forget seeing a teacher out of her environment at McDonald’s; I kept thinking, “What is she doing here?” (I had never thought about them eating or having a life outside of school.)

For some reason the topic of bullying came up at the open house and how the school has a very strict policy to address any situation that comes up. I mean “any situation.” The next morning, as I was dropping off a forgotten notebook at high school, I could not help but notice the 5 uniformed police officers who are there everyday. I think the only time we ever saw a police officer when I was in school, was when they came to tell you about the dangers of whatever the topic of interest was back then. (Like the dangers of crossing the street at the light on your bikes---things have changed.)

Bullying and fights happened in school, and we all knew who to stay away from if you wanted to remain in one piece. I am really happy they address this now, as these fears still hide in the memories of when I was growing up. The person we were discussing recently, was one of the meanest people in our school. What is he doing now? I think “time.” As in jail time.  No High School reunion for him in the near future.

No one can possibly want to be mean; at least I hope they don’t want to be. For today’s generation, the ones who are in school, they are going to run into some very competitive people who feel they are better than others---I think it’s important to remind those who are effected, that no matter how “mean” they come across, it may not be what the “mean” to do.

The photo above is from a recent photo shoot we did for one of the football teams we shoot. Because we take more than one photograph, I said, “Give me a mean look.” The above is the result. Looks like schools are helping out on bad behavior----  because if this is mean, we have a lot of good that’s happening for our future.

Thanks for stopping by.

Home.

“Home for the holidays,

I believe I've missed each and every face,

Come on and play my music,

Let's turn on the love light in the place.”

About 7 weeks ago, as we were preparing for our oldest daughter to leave for college, I thought we were in the clear as far as any new additions to the family. I was so wrong.

It all started when our oldest daughter in waiting was figuring out that she was not going to have her big sister around; she would now not be able to sneak into her room, try on and remove clothes, and sneak them back in after school. Suddenly she knew she needed something, or someone, to fill this soon-to-be void.

It started with YouTube; she would scour the site looking for videos of dogs. I really didn’t think much of it as I was adamant about having only one dog in the household. We had had two of them before, and it just didn’t work for our family. Then YouTube morphed into pet shop visits. I said, “I have no idea why you are going to pet shops, because we are not getting another dog.” I was told “yes we are.” I said, “Nope, not gonna happen.”

I was then dragged to the pet shop and forced to say “hello and hold” a puppy. I quickly put it down, and said…”This is nuts, and cruel to our daughter, because we are not getting another dog.” Period end of story.

What I learned of was a plan; the plan to break me down to the point where I was now feeling a level of concern about whether it would have an effect on our daughter, and her impending loss of a big sister who was going to college. I just shook it off. There was no way I would cave.

Meet Gus. Although he has had his name changed a few times, I call him by the original one he was given. They call him Louie but since I feel like I gave in, which I did, I think it’s only fair I call him whatever I want. I am sure I will lose out on this too. Who knows?

The photo above is of the puppy I swore I would not get; the funniest part about our having gotten him, is the person I suspected would think I was completely crazy was my Dad. I was wrong. He asks about “the boys” every time he calls---and I just smile. I have suggested he get a dog, but he is just not ready---I think I will sick our daughters on him.

Thanks for stopping by.