It's Your Birthday!

Happy Birthday Meredith. Seven years old. WOW!

Summer '07 So Far

Big W

I want to take a minute to wish the Big Dubya a Happy Fortieth Birthday. When I started this blogging adventure over 305 posts ago Dubya was one of the first daddy bloggers that I found.

I reached out to him for a reciprocal link and he said sure. Then he made fun of my High School. It happens all the time, kids educated by Jesuits are jealous of us with a Xaverian education.

Happy Birthday old man, how is the view from the top of the hill? You know it is all down hill from here.

Number 37

Wish me Happy Birthday.

Thirty seven feels much older than thirty six. It is going to take some getting used to, you know, being a day older today than I was yesterday.

My hope is to just keep piling on the years as long as I can carry them.

Merry's Fifth

March 2, 2002

March 2, 2007

Happy Birthday Merry!

Blogversary

Steve, thank you for your generous offer to help with the overhaul, but after mentioning it to the boss and thinking it over, I have decided to let the inner sissy shine. I do not need a new layout or format, The Tutu Boutique is part of me and I am sticking with it.

It is Sunday morning, Baby Einstein is watching my children and I am reflecting on a year in the blog-o-sphere. Blogging has been a terrific hobby, I have had a chance to experience different perspectives and characters. There are families all over the country whose window I have had a chance to peak in.

We are all different however there is a common thread that ties the blogs I read together. That thread is the journey of parenting. Some are further down the path than others, some are just starting out. Some face special challenges, some have lots of kids, some have one. We all love and want the best for these children, we all use blogging to work through issues, that when we toss them out there we find are universal. We are not alone, there are others in the same boat, dealing with the same circumstances.

There are writers who expose themselves to us unabashedly, their fears, joys, misgivings and questions on display for all of the world to experience. There are Dads simply trying to chronicle the adventure of raising children. Developing an archive for their children , a place where those children will be able to look back and get an idea of what dear old Dad was thinking.

More times than I can count I have read stories that filled me with emotion, sitting in front of the computer I have laughed, I have cried, I have been confused, I have felt hope and despair. This little window, perhaps is not so little.

The act of sitting down, typing out the issue I am struggling with, usually shines a light on the solution. Generally I have a solution to the problem I am blogging about before I hit the publish button. I do not consider myself a writer,but I have come to rely on writing to help get through. It has been eye opening this blogging and I am happy that I got involved.

This blog is for me and my children, however you are all welcome to come and have a peak in the window of The Old Blue House. If you see or hear something while you are peaking inside, remember you are welcome here and your two cents is appreciated.

New Look?

This blog is going to be 1 year old tomorrow. This is the 256th post since its inception. I am tired of looking at the Tutus and Ballet slippers. I am thinking of switching out of the sissy landscape and into something which more closely represents me.

The blog has been successful, it has gotten Googles attention and driven traffic to the store. When I started out our traffic came from Yahoo, only a small number of people found us through Google. Now our traffic is dominated by Google some days 79% of our visitors find us there. This is a good thing, there are many more people searching in Google than there are in Yahoo, I have the numbers to prove it.

Traffic here at this blog is far less than stellar. The number of visitors remains constant, constantly low. There is a group of regulars that webs and flows depending on who continues to blog and who drops out. This number hovers around ten, then there are always fifteen to twenty more who find it looking for tutus or stories about snots. Twenty or thirty people a day, that is it. I will never be a blog super star, sad words, I know. So if I am not blogging for the masses why not change the look and the feel to something that looks and feels more like me?

Three

My boy David is three today. He is sensitive, funny and tough. I love him and I am happy he is in our lives. Hugging David is like hugging a fire hydrant that loves to hug you back.

Happy Birthday Wrongside!

Love Dad.

Thirty-Six

Today is my thirty-sixth birthday, rounding up I guess I might as well be forty. As thirty-six has been approaching I have been looking back at thirty-five, thirty-five was a very busy year.

At this time last year there were a lot of plans on the table waiting to be executed. Heidi was pregnant with our third child, Thomas. The architect had been hired to design the addition to our Old Blue House. The equity line to pay for the addition had been arranged. I was scrambling to figure out how to pay back the equity line and afford college for three kids. Last but not least I scheduled a fairly serious knee operation for June.

Well by April, Heidi and I had signed on with a company out of Utah to build ourselves an Internet business. I put the fee on a credit card, more debt, and The Tutu Boutique was born. Turns out we paid a fortune and probably could have done it for half the cost. I will say that I did learn a whole bunch of stuff and if I were to do it again, I would. At some point I hope this move will pay for lots of stuff, the addition included.

In may we hired the builder, we only interviewed two. Two very different approaches were presented to us. The first was organized, spread sheets, cost breakdowns, very professional. After careful consideration of our plans he came back with a very high number.

The second builder was from town, everybody knows him and he is respected as an honest, honorable man. More spit and a handshake, the number he came back with was far more reasonable. We hired him. Construction to start in August.

May was spent trying to find a niche market on the Internet. Something Heidi could be involved with that would hold her interest. Something that did not have an overwhelming presence on the web and had a decent amount of people looking for it. Tutus.

June, I had my posterior cruciate ligament replaced with a cadavers. This operation kicked the crap out of me. I was only in the Hospital overnight, however it took about a week and a half to get back to work. The rehab was atrocious, honest to God it made me cry/laugh it hurt so much. No weight on it for six weeks, which was perfect because Thomas was due the second week of July.

The first time I put any weight on my new knee was in the delivery room assisting with the birth of my third child, Thomas. July was spent taking care of the new baby. Working on details pertaining to The Tutu Boutique, and messing with the architects plans.

In August construction started on the house, The Tutu Boutique went online, I started to walk without crutches, or crunchers, as David referred to them. Life started to get its rhythm back. Albeit a loud and raucous rhythm, at least the surprises were manageable. Leaky roofs, spats with the architect, meetings with the Hysterical Society, it was fun.

We sold our first tutu in mid August, that was exciting. The addition was finished in November, at a price just above what the first builder said it was going to cost. Thomas turned out to be a relatively easy baby, and I skied on my knee last week.

There were a lot of sleepless nights, anxiety, and joy. I would not trade my thirty-fifth year for anything, where would I be without blogging? I just hope thirty-six is much less exciting.

Birthday

Today is Merry's fourth birthday. Four years ago today, the most wonderful, scary, anxiety laden day of my life happened, I became a Dad, that's right a D.A.D., Dad. I always wanted to be a father and it happened four years ago today.

I remember the anxiety of finding out Heidi was pregnant, keeping it a secret, making sure we followed all the recommendations, getting all the parent gear. Looking back, three kids later, it was a bit much. Hind sight is 20x20, they say.

The biggest question I had then, and still struggle with today: Can I be a good influence? Will I be able to provide my children the tools necessary for them to make the right decisions in their life? My mother always said, "You won't make the same mistakes I have made, but you certainly will make your own." I hope their mistakes are not to grievous.

Meredith is a gift, she is growing into a precious little person with a penchant for dance, a sense of humor, and a big personality. She is not afraid to speak her mind, or meet new people. Everyday she makes me laugh. Everyday I thank God for the Miracle that is Meredith, I thank God for her good health, and the happiness she brings us.

I get all muddled up with thoughts and ideas. Four years old, a little tiny baby is turning into a beautiful little person. Heidi's first words to me when she was born were"I told you so, I knew it, she's a girl!" The story of Heidi's labor must have been told one hundred times in the months following Merry's birth. What an experience, the birth of a baby, there you are witnessing a miracle.

I feel bad for my Dad and the generations of Men before me who were not privileged to take part in the beginning of their children's lives. Child birth changed me forever. Seniors stories of sitting in the waiting room, drinking beer he had stashed in the trash can, waiting for the news, sounded like the way to go before I experienced the train wreck that is child birth. Knowing now the miracle that takes place, I would not miss it. It is hard and uncomfortable, and I didn't even have to push, but is also amazing and wonderful.

Merry, thank you for being you. You have pushed me and inspired me to be a better person, for that I will always be grateful. Now get out there and do your best.

Love, Daddy