Just woke up, but not what you're thinking

Something just dawned on me. Granted, it's probably not the first time I've thought what I'm about to reveal to you, but it's the first time it stood in front of me cloaked in reality. It was almost the polar opposite of the fictional dark caped crusader Jakob and I watched for the um-teenth time tonight. This one was just as eye opening, but real.

So get to the part where you tell us, right? Okay. I didn't mean to build it up as much as I probably did. Now I'm just stalling or perhaps pandering like Kirk Douglas during the Oscars. I don't want to be that guy. I'm getting there. Really I am.

Years ago, believe it or not, I was a little bit of something while attending Northwest Missouri State University. Yes, the best (and only) Division II school that would allow me acceptance. I started out misguided and while I'm not sure I ever really recovered, I found a niche. I was good at Forensic speech. Now, before you call me something off-color or lump me in with those debaters (bottom feeders) let me tell you that I learned more about public speaking and the wonderfully bittersweet moments of life in that short time while I was on the team. Each weekend we competed I felt alive and it fed my ego.

I won't lie to you, I've got a ton of trophies and plaques from various competitions I don't even remember attending. Most of them have survived the test of time. Some of them are engraved with my name. I'm sure that others were lost by my mother during one of my many moves to and from my parents' house but I can't prove it. In the event you think that when my mother reads this that she will be appalled, you need to know that she knows I'm kidding and any sense of humor I have is a result of her and my father's influence. So blame them.

So these trophies and the point of this story. You were promised that before. They are in the bat cave on a shelf that reaches high up almost to the ceiling. If you've been in my basement, you know it's not THAT high, but you get the idea. Lots of space. Lots of awards. Tonight, I was getting one of my favorite beverages out of the fridge (Pepsi One), and after I opened it I set it down on the shelf to plug in my laptop. It's a Dell and vastly superior to any Apple junk, but that's another story.

I returned to get my drink and noticed that I had placed it on one of the plaques that happened to have my name on it. That's when it dawned on me as to how things change. This isn't one of those "these things are really meaningless and what really matters is friends and family" stories. Sure, those things do matter, but these awards did too. Now they're just above coasters (except for the one I used as said coaster).

This is really more about transitions and how I can walk seven feet from my college awards to the leather couch where my 3-year-old and I sat closely together and watched the Justice League. I can sink down into the cushion and when I ask my son who the caped figure on the television with a black bat on his chest is he points to himself. He then points to Robin and says, "That's you daddy." It sure is buddy, and I couldn't be more proud.

In typical situations, the dad would probably be the hero with the son being the side kick, but if anything, he's taught me more than I'll ever teach him. Sure, I'm charged with helping him with girls and life and God, but he has the power to build me up or crush me with just a few words. He's not a trophy from some competition. Sure, we chose him and I shutter at times at the "what might have been" moments. I don't so much think of what his life would be had his birth mother decided to keep him, but rather how empty my life would be without him. I know deep down I would have known that somehow. There are no amount of trophies that can fill a small, endless hole like that.

So, once again I've woken up to something I didn't even know I was asleep to. Not a bad way to spend a random Tuesday evening. I'm looking forward to less days of "I don't want to daddy" and more filled with "Smell my hands daddy. See, I washed them."

Holy cow it's been a while

So, after looking at the dashboard of our blog's main login page it became clear that our lives are probably way, way too busy. Last post. . . April 3. Yuck. That's terrible, and it's not fair to you, the fans who check back in to see how things are going. Where would we be without your love and devotion? We tend to blame Facebook and Twitter. Social media is not only addictive, but the tools they provide for pictures and updates are just soooo stinkin' easy to use. Fortunately, this blog feed is now going to our Facebook account so whether you're reading it from there or the Blogger RSS feed you've got options. Sort of like Obamacare. Wait, no not like that crap at all. Think the opposite.


So, since our last "chat" a lot has happened in our lives. Just when it seemed like the school year would never end, Kim finally went from one day being done with the regular school year to starting summer school the next. Thank you mother nature for dropping tons of snow and cold weather on us this past winter. You're officially on the B list of people we invite to VIP events. Because of all the snow days it made for running from one position right into the next. She also attended Special Olympics with her students in Springfield (complete with a trip to Lambert's Cafe) and had a great time seeing the kids exceed all expectations and do well in each of their events. Kim has also joined Marc's addiction to P90X and while she's not quite sure if she loves it, she doesn't totally hate it (yet).


We said goodbye to one of Jakob's teachers at daycare who has literally had him since our first day. She's staying in his old classroom and he's advancing on to the next. It was probably tougher on her and us than Jakob. All he kept saying is, "I'm going to the Zebra room with two slides!" He's more than just a little excited, and we heard from his teachers that he's been the best at adapting to his new surroundings with no problems. They may tell all the parents that, but we don't care. In addition, his musical talent continues to increase. He's officially in love with the drums and it's become a force we cannot stop. He doesn't know it, but he's getting a toddler trap set from Nana and Pape and us for his birthday. Tonight, I had on a Jonsi song that has a ton of drums and he literally "air drummed" correctly in beat. This is happening faster than we anticipated.


The hardest part has been seeing his independence grow. It's not that we don't want him to have a mind of his own and begin to race out into the world to greet all of it's wonder, but we still miss the little guy we held in the hospital almost three years ago. I find myself treasuring the times he will sit still and drink his juice or milk on my lap while we watch the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, or holding him in the morning when all he wants to do is sleep and cuddle. As a parent I want to hold on to him and protect him but I know he'll have days where he wants to learn the hard way. Heaven help us on those days.


Last night, I watched him and his friend Makel play outside at our weekly small group get together and I could see his personality and his vocabulary on display. I have told a few of our friends and family that Jakob and three of his friends from daycare (including Makel) are like a junior "A-Team" with Jakob as "Face" because he's so charming and gorgeous and Makel as BA because he's always got Jakob's back. As proud as it makes me, I know he's moving into that time where each day he'll need me less and less. Sure, that's what every parent needs, but it's easier said than done.

The other day I took stock in all the past parenting my parents gave me as well as the tips and tricks others who had children before us passed on (advice both wanted and unwanted, ha) and realized that there hasn't been any blueprint with Jakob. He's as predictable as he is an enigma. At times, that's exactly what we love and other times we're left clueless on what to do. Hold on, I'm being asked to sing:

"Hot dog! Hot dog! Hot diggity dog! If you've got ears it's time to cheer! Hot dog! Hot dog! Hot diggity dog! HOT DOG!"

Okay, the Mickey episode is over. It's already June and that means before we know it Jakob's third birthday will be here. We will be posting his first video which contains footage of him when he was in the hospital. It was before we were on Facebook and it serves as a helpful reminder, when he's quite the bear, of where he came from and how innocent he really is. Sometimes. Course, right now I need to help him understand that it's not the best idea to take the toilet paper all completely off the holder and scatter it around the bathroom. Like George Costanza he's probably going to say, "Was that wrong? Because honestly, I'm going to have to claim ignorance on that one."

More soon.

Imperfect perfection

Kim has left for nursery duty at church and Jakob is still down for a much needed Saturday afternoon nap. What does that mean? The clock is ticking, and if I want to get this blog post done I'm going to need to do it quickly. You're going to notice this post is teaming with one overwhelming truth - the more I learn about Jakob, the more I learn about God.

Many of our loyal followers have more than likely seen Jakob's recent exploits in Branson, MO, in living color photos and video on Facebook. His mind continues to dream up more and more ways to meet adventure head on.

While we were in Branson with my parents, we had sort of a "Dickens'" time. It was the "best of behaviors and the worst of behaviors" for Jakob. There's so much he wanted to see and do and at times that was not the same as what we had scheduled to see or do. You can imagine how that went over.

It must be something wonderful to see the world through his eyes. The hotel we stayed in must have been like a whole new world to just play in, and he took in every part of it. We had a balcony that overlooked a small water pond where ducks would fly in and out of during the day. That balcony became one of two "rewards" which helped us get him to do what he's supposed to when he's supposed to do it.

The other was the pool. I can't remember what it was like when I first swam in a pool, but I do have other than fond memories of being dunked under when I went for a mother/son swim when I was his age. Last summer, Jakob slowly gained courage enough to go from being super close to me in the water, to holding himself out to kick his legs, to sometimes walking down the stairs into my arms and now finally enjoys jumping from the side of the pool into my arms. This makes for a great workout that usually ensures he sleeps well at night and also leaves my arms tired but feeling like we both had fun.

Kim is a total rock when it comes to times when Jakob has become frustrated. Also on vacation, we went out on the Ducks (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/DUCW) which was something he had been looking forward to specifically for the part where they allow anyone to come up and drive (once you're out on the lake). Many kids went and it came time for Jakob's turn. He and I went up and he drove like a champ. When our turn was done Jakob was not and let me, the Captain and the other 38 passengers in close quarters know it. He was only yelling, kicking and screaming for about seven minutes, but it seemed like an eternity. All the while, Kim was trying to console him and all I could think of was whether or not the lake water would calm him down. . . if you know what I mean. :) My parents later tried to help me understand that he's in that stage where he's headstrong and needs to understand that while we love him that he's not always going to get his way. Again, the more I learn about Jakob, the more I learn about God.

Later, we went to the kiddie areas where they had all sorts of rides for little guys and Jakob was less than thrilled. Makes us think perhaps we're raising Speed Racer. We headed over to the adult and bigger kid go-carts and found out they had two seaters for parents with little tykes. That all seemed perfect. I purchased two rides and took Jakob to the car. As we walked to the car I tried to explain that he would have a good time and how it would need to work in order to have fun. I put him in the passenger seat and started to buckle him in. When he realized he was not going to be driving, he started yelling and thrashing trying to get to the driver seat. I did get him into the seat and we went for a great ride. Once we got back we got in line again and I explained that we were going to do the same thing again and it would be fun and we would both have a great time. When it came time for us to get back in the same car, Jakob exploded and tried to get in the driver seat again, but this time he was too inconsolable. I looked up at the teenage kid who, by just the look in his eyes, was pulling for me to make it work and said, "I guess we're done." He refunded our ride, I took Jakob over to Kim and then I walked away feeling crushed.

For the record, it should be known that Jakob didn't know he was crushing me. He has independent thoughts and hopes and wants just like anyone else. He didn't realize in that moment that if he would settle down and put his trust in me that I would have guaranteed the most exciting (and safe) ride he could have ever imagined. Again, the more I learn about Jakob, the more I learn about God.

As I'm writing this, I'm looking around the room seeing four different balls, a sock monkey jack in the box, a few Little Tykes vehicles and then the wall we've devoted to various photos of Jakob. The photos and images are all framed and I can honestly say I hung them all. I say that because they're all crooked. Well, one or two of them are straight, but against the others they look crooked and the others look crooked against the two straight ones. This is the truest example of imperfect perfection I can think of to write about. A few weeks ago, Kim and I thought about what our lives would be like if little things in the course of getting Jakob hadn't happened. It appeared that all roads, while we didn't know it were a perfect plan that led to Jakob. There were times when we were that screaming kid in the passenger side and God strapped us in and took us on the ride that led to Jakob.

I'm glad we trusted Him because I like my house better with generic breakfast bar crumbs on the kitchen floor, a request to watch Kung Fu Panda for the fourth time in one day and the clutching onto me for security when he's scared that no other person can provide. I'm thankful for moments like this evening where everything stops and I get the chance to bask in them. I drink them up and savor them just like God does with me. The more I learn about Jakob, the more I learn about God.

Tomorrow, our family will be here and there will be a house to clean, eggs to hide, food to make and a whirlwind of activity to try to tame. But for now solitude, peace and the peeking in on a little boy sleeping.

More soon.

Jakob Marcus!

It's pretty exciting that the weather is changing. This is of course bittersweet because one day it could be totally nice out and the next either rainy or breezy. The little boy does not understand this and feels that no matter what the weather is like outside he should be. . . outside.

It doesn't help that Santa brought him a brand new kick-butt wagon and he occasionally sees his Batman four wheeler in the downstairs office. It's technically "up on blocks" sitting on top of papers and the other clutter we've amassed in this catch all area so when he sits on it and revs the engine (all 10 amps of it) the wheels go but he doesn't move. He thinks it's pretty funny (mommy does not).

The title of this post is "Jakob Marcus!" for one very good reason. He's been hearing his first and second name a lot lately and for many of you who grew up with parents who said yours you know its not a good thing. Jakob is still the perfect junior superhero any parent could ask for, but his other side has begun to show. Spiderman dealt with the black suit, Batman with his past, the Hulk with tailored shirts. For Jakob it has to be stubbornness on steroids.

Jakob likes to play a fun game where we ask him to do something or give him a choice on which thing he would like to have/do. Lately, he has been picking a third option which was not part of the original two OR not responding at all. This leads us to then pick for him or leave said area without making a choice (we choose to LEAVE Target), and as you can imagine chaos ensues.

The saving grace at home is that if we want Jakob to do something and he's not moving when we ask him to, we just throw up our hands and say, "Okay, Daddy (or Mommy) do it then." This is met with, "No, NO! MY do it!" We know it's only going to be a matter of time before he figures this out and then begins to try to outsmart us again.

Speaking of that, he is quite clever. He came into the living room the other day with a gallon of milk and a cup and said, "Milk Mommy?" One more thing for us to watch out for that this surprisingly strong boy can do. He's also very sneaky about how he goes about getting what he wants. He will take your hand lovingly and walk around with you getting you closer and closer to the stairs. Then he will lead you down the stairs and say "downstairs" in this sort of "well, we're already half way down and there's so much we COULD be doing there. . . why not just go, right? I mean the XBOX isn't going to play itself, right? And don't get me started on the guitar and drum!"

So, some days we're learning as much as he does. The good news is that he's still the best looking, smartest kid in his class, a charmer, kitchen dancer and one world-class cuddler. After a long day of bad, all it takes is "see me Daddy" and my day rocks.

Next week, we're on vacation to Branson with my mom and dad. Should be fun and it will be nice to have a little time off.

More soon.

Dreams and heaven

This morning, I woke up freaked out about a dream I had. Normally, I would remember those dreams because it was the kind that took place after you've been woken up but then go back to sleep. The morning's interruption at 7 a.m. was the usual variety that happens at that time on this day of the week. Jakob loves juice and milk and when he wakes up with a "rumbly in his tumbly" (Thanks A.A. Milne) he wants one or the other.

Afterwards he decided it would be a good idea to stay in bed with us. Conventionally, I love this because it's one of the coolest things seeking him sleep. I think mostly it's hard to believe something with as much energy as a twister can come to be that still. This has worked out in the past; however, since I was up late last night finishing a game on XBOX, I really wanted him to sleep in. Needless to say, he had other ideas. After a stint of tossing, turning, jabbing and kicking, Kim had enough and got up with him and said the music to my ears, "C'mon Jakob, let's let Daddy sleep." So I did, and I dreamt.

Like I said, I don't remember what the dream was, but I woke up worried about Jakob. I don't like worrying about him. That sounds silly. What parent likes worrying about their child? Well, my grandmother (God rest her soul) did make it an Olympic event to worry about my brother and me, but that's one gene I didn't want replicated. But, when something pushes me into reactionary mode, I forget his whiny voice, his defiant "NO!" and the times he's crying so hard when he's earned two minutes on the couch for acting out. (I even put aside the fact that he is totally wound up and loud right now even as I'm writing this post!)

I think a lot of that stems from the part of me, and it's a large part, that wants Jakob to enjoy that pure and innocent part of life for as long as he can. When he gets bitten by a classmate at daycare, falls down and bumps his head or endures something that takes him away from being in that heavenly pure place it kills me. I'm guessing most first time parents use these experiences to blaze the trail. Kim would tell you this is the reason first-born's dislike middle children so much, AND why middle children can't understand how they don't get away with more they think their parents' will never suspect. I just wish the advice I've received from other parents telling me it's natural for my son to experience hardships to toughen up would sink in.

The older he gets the more I know my days holding him, dancing in the kitchen and playing guitars in the basement are numbered. I hate that part, but then there's the other part where we run in Target and he's yelling, "C'mon daddy!" that makes up for it. Perhaps that's indirectly what he's trying to say. "C'mon daddy. Don't you know? I'll be fine. Just love me."

And I do. More than he probably knows.

But right now, I've got to go. Another "rumbly" has surfaced and Jakob is in need of some juice.

More soon.

Happy Christmas Jakob

"So this is Christmas. . . and what have you done?"

John and Yoko asked that question at Record Plant Studios in New York City in late October 1971. This has been an interesting year, and believe it or not we have an answer to the question above.

Now before you switch off and head elsewhere, this is not just another Christmas letter. In fact, it's not a letter at all, but more a reflection . . .nay a mission statement. Okay, not a mission statement.

Each year, like other parents, we try to introduce Jakob to new things, and this year was no different. Sure, our methods are unorthodox and he's definitely gaining cool points by the second, but that's not important. What is important is that he's slowly becoming more and more aware of his surroundings which is fun to see and a little scary. His inner wheels are turning and also his independence is growing. There was a time when he wanted us for everything. If his "spidey sense" went off even remotely, he wanted up or to be held by mommy or daddy. Now, he wants to walk everywhere and is continually telling us "No, I do it!" He also speaks about himself in third person citing quips like, "No, Jakob's mow-mow" or "Jakob's monkey." We've noted that for the most part only boxers and hip hop artists do that. We're hoping he turns out to become neither.

When we take him to the zoo in Omaha or a Royals game or even just to the pool two doors down he's taking it all in. When we go to church he has to go into the side auditorium to see the stage, guitars and candles. Those Kindermusic sessions at daycare are working out just fine. We're hoping one day his charisma and talent takes him places involving a stage and guitars (candles optional). His memories are in full foundation mode and they are shaping him. Everything he sees he wants to experience and everything he hears he is repeating. The spelling phase is officially upon us.

This summer we had a little trouble explaining that there would just be some things we do/like/possess that will get him flack from his friends. Things like the fact that Marc is more than just a little bit of a Star Wars junkie and Kim's favorite band is Def Leppard.

To combat that we have tried to start him early. He loves to hang out in the basement with daddy and play guitars together and watch the Lego Star Wars game on XBOX. He also loves to dance with us in the kitchen and make cookies with mommy. He's also amazingly talented at chasing and being chased/tickled.

So, another year is over and he's only getting smarter, cuter and more amazing. Hopefully, you've seen the movies which are evidence of this. If not, check out his YouTube channel. It's been critically acclaimed by the Sundance Channel as the "feel good little tough guy movie series of the year" three years in a row.

The funny thing is that we're learning just as much as he is. It's been said that the trick to parenting is just showing up. That's true with Jakob. We know there will come a time when he doesn't want us to be around and just wants to hang with his friends or spend time alone. We know he will tell us what's cool and how we're not (all the while we'll reminisce on doing the same to our parents when we were young). We know one day down the road he will even leave us and go to college, get married and be something great. And as proud as we will be of him, we'll miss these times.

We'll miss holding him in the NICU three years ago and the freaked out feeling of knowing our dream of getting him was finally realized. We'll miss keeping track of all of his baby/toddler firsts especially the Mother's Day when he said "dada" all day. With him running around at full speed all the time now, Marc will miss the mornings when Jakob lays in his arms at dawn sleeping peacefully. It's those days that it's hard not to call in sick.

So, what have we done this year? We've learned right along with him and we hope by next Christmas we will have learned even more. Next year, Jakob will be ready to ride rides at theme parks, potty train, go to the movies and usher in the beginnings of "big kid" things. It's going to be awesome.

More soon.

"No" means "2 minutes on the couch"

This year for Halloween Jakob was Max from Where the Wild Things Are which is both a favorite book of ours as well as something extremely timely with the movie having just come out. When we took Jakob to his daycare Harvest Fair we noticed something about his costume from this year as well as last year (he was an ewok last year). We walked in and found there were four little ones dressed as ewoks. We also received a lot of "Oh that's so cool" and "He looks just like Max!" Jakob looked at some of the "ewok impostors" with a "that is SOOOO last year" face. We were left with two feelings. On the one hand, we felt like we had unwittingly helped Jakob become a trend setter, and on the other hand we couldn't help but hope we will always have the ability to help Jakob feel special.

Like his Max costume, and thanks again to Marc's mom for again coming through and making something amazing for him, Jakob is anything but "off the rack." As his parents we have found ourselves trying, in the most healthy way possible, of giving him reinforcements that he's the next best thing to sliced bread.

With that mission, we've also had to help him understand structure, discipline and rules. Jakob is clever and finds new wonder in every moment of every day. With that also comes his testing of every boundary possible. Many of those situations end him up for two minutes on the couch with a few tears. But, we hope eventually he will understand that we don't put him there because he's a "bad kid" (because he's far from it) or because we don't care about every atom of every molecule that makes up who he is. That's been hard for us because we don't want to disappoint him, but at the same time don't want to spoil him.

Juggling discipline and happy moments has not been easy and when our parents said, "this is going to hurt me more than it's going to hurt you" we completely see where they were coming from. [Editor's note: Marc is pretty sure he heard his dad say at one point or another, "this is definitely going to hurt you more than it's going to hurt me." :)]

But back to the Harvest Fair. We tend to cling to the feeling that every parent wants to have their child be the one in the spotlight, and between Kim's organization and Marc's creativity, we've had success in helping Jakob enjoy the limelight. The most interesting part of that is that even as much as we've tried to do (with a lot of help from God), he does so much on his own. He's a good looking kid and while we joke about him eventually becoming the world's first lawyer/band front man/model, we'll do everything we can to help him understand the possibilities are endless. He can do anything and he will do so much.

His dependence on his dwindles each day. Sure, there are times when he's overwhelmed or feeling over stimulated and he raises his arms and only one of us holding him will do. But, there are more and more other situations beginning to come to light where he wants down or wants to "do it" on his own. It's great to see that leadership ability coming through, but it's also a sign of things to come. It's a signal that eventually he'll want to practice the ball or instrument on his own, or go do something with just his friends or want to take the car keys and go it alone. That will be bittersweet.

So, we say all of that to say that so much can be summed up from just a Halloween costume, and it truly is the little moments that mean the most. Well, that and the fact that he's singing to songs, asking for original things (some of which we don't know how he knows about), making decisions about food and clothing and understanding just what "I love you" really means. That's not too shabby either.

More soon.