#LivingInTheMoment

Look at me, posting again!  It's only the second week, but I think I can do this #52weekproject! We'll see.

Today's main story isn't all that great.  It's about blood, tears, ice cream, and memories.  Sounds interesting, right? I hope that means you'll read on...

On Tuesday of this week, I had an institute function that I was to attend for work.  It was specifically for the high school seniors, to help them transition into the "post-high-school-life" scene, and we were asked as teachers to attend, so they had some familiar faces.  Since Mom had a meeting of her own, I decided to take B and E with me to mingle with my students.  Because there was to be ice cream there, I told the kiddos that they were coming with me to "daddy's work ice cream party".  Boy, were they excited.

Thus begins the saga.  The kids were super excited to go, but when the clock reached the time for our departure, as so often occurs, we weren't exactly ready to head out the door.  B wasn't "done" with dinner yet.  E couldn't find her shoes.  Then I couldn't find my phone or keys.  The culmination of craziness was when B snuck outside, tripped on the concrete sidewalk, fell face first, and got a bloody nose (I told you there was blood). All in all, when we finally were in the car ready to leave, there we were WAY behind schedule.  With our ETA just about 5 or so minutes before the ice cream party was to end, I decided it wasn't in our best interest to go to "daddy's work ice cream party" after all.  E and B very much disagreed with me.  Nothing I said came close to consoling them.

As I tried to explain to my two two children who were in the depths of despair that we weren't going to be able to make it to the party, I was reminded of the store just around the corner and their 59 cent ice cream cones.  So we had our own ice cream party there.  Children satisfied.  Problem solved.

Now I know that this story really wasn't all that exciting, but while I was sitting at the store with them, my mind flashed to the advice from all of those "old folks" out there who said that time with small kids goes so fast.  My mind did a quick flash forward.  Soon, Child Numero 3 will be joining us, the kids will go to school, graduate from 6th, then 9th, then 12th grades, go on missions and get married, and poof!...they'll be gone.  So crazy!  I just want to cherish and treasure these moments with them.  I hope I can remember that each time its a "hard parenting moment".  I hope I can see that these "moments are the molecules that makes up eternity" (Neal A. Maxwell), and that by living in the moment, I can learn to appreciate my kids and my family even more.  I love these guys and I'm so thankful for them.  I just absolutely, completely, totally, entirely LOVE being a dad!

#LivingInTheMoment #DoutreLove #TheyMeltMyHeartLikeIceCream #CapitalLettersHelpYouReadHashtagsBetter #Seriously

This video illustrates what I am thinking about rather well.  Enjoy!

Oh, here's a picture from our ice cream night...

The difference between can, should, and does...

Today's post isn't anything special.  Just the first in a series of efforts to actually share my experiences as a new-ish father, learning how to raise a family in today's marvelous and scary world.

I have only one brief story to share this week. Last Sunday, E was coming down off a throw-uppy night, and we told her that she had to stay home from church until she got better. She had thrown up for the third time just a few hours before church, so, from a parental perspective, keeping her home was totally logical. However, E doesn't see it from our parental perspective. As we waved goodbye to B and Mom going to church, E started crying. She expressed that all she wanted to do was "go to church, play with her friends, and learn about Jesus." I took her by the hand and sat her down in the front room, where we tried brainstorming different activities that we could do at home to keep her mind off of it, but every few minutes she would ask if we could go to church. I couldn't believe this girl's perseverance and persistence. When the other half of our little family finally came home, E told Mom in a very dramatic fashion about how "all I wanted to do was go to church!"

Although I laugh at that situation and think it was very cute, I also wonder how I feel about attending church and my own personal worship that should take place there. I mean, I know that I can and should pay devotion through my faith and the way that I live each and every day, but church is a time each week when I can and should focus all of my thoughts and energy on learning more about my Savior and strengthening my personal relationship with Him. It is a time when I can and should renew my promises to Him through the sacrament. It is a time when I can and should replenish my spiritual reserves for the week and prepare for the coming trials of another week. I know all the right answers as to why going to church can and should mean something to me...but does it? That experience from last week with E affected me and my worship today as we attended church. For that, I am grateful to my wonderful, ever-so-cute daughter!