
As you can see, they were not ready for a nap.

We walked past a few pretty flowers today. My nearly two year old daughter gleefully determined the size, shape and color of this floral display. I smiled in amazement of how quickly she’d developed this perception from just a month ago. The visual connections were evident to her before but now she could verbalize them. This captivation with nature quickly gave way to a desire to run. Her curly blonde hair bounced in tandem with a playful gallop. My daughter’s passage from baby to toddler had arrived.

It’s Father’s Day again. A commercially driven holiday manufactured to create commerce opportunities or a well deserved day of thanks and praise for everything a Dad contributes to his family throughout the year?

For my family, rush hour begins at home. The morning, demonstrating a brazen disregard for privacy, crashes our slumber party disturbing the peace. As a parent with young children, you instinctively stumble out of bed struggling for some level of coherence before the kids awaken to the sounds of morning. You navigate through the darkness with the stealth like skill of a drunken blindfolded raccoon rummaging through trash cans. Inevitably you step on a squeaky misplaced toy or unleash a primal scream after stubbing your toe on the clothes dresser that clearly must have been relocated while you slept. Like a cosmic shock wave, the ripple effects of your auditory disturbance usher in a chain of events resulting in chaos. Another school day begins.