Monday, September 24, 2007

Six Months

This past Friday, my little baby boy Morgan turned six months old. I can't begin to believe it. Six months. I've been a daddy for six whole months. Before he was born, people would say, "Oh your life is about to change!" I had no idea. I thought they were talking about sleepless nights, diaper changing and fussy temper tantrums. Those things are all true, but I was expecting them. No, the change I wasn't expecting was the one that's taking place in me.

I never thought I could love anyone the way I love my son. I can't stand being away from him for any period of time. I absolute live for his smile...his giggle. I can't wait to hold him in my arms when I get home from work each day. Some days, I can't make it without calling home to hear how he's doing...or at least looking at pictures of him. I love his smell (well some of the smells aren't as pleasant as others!) I love how he recognizes me the second I walk through the door and greets me with a wide open-mouthed smile. I love how he examines my face with such a serious look when I'm holding him. I'm absolutely and totally in love.

And I don't think it ever hit me before just how difficult it must have been for God to give that up for me. Oh how He must have loved His son Jesus! To have a perfect son who touched so many lives...stayed pure, maintained righteousness, defended the poor and the needy. What dad wouldn't be proud? Yet, in the midst of all that love, God allowed His one and only son to be beaten, mocked, teased, tortured, abused, punished and ultimately murdered for me.

Not to offend anyone out there, but there is no one on this planet I would give up my son for. I simply don't love anyone enough to make such a sacrifice. Yet God did it for me. And He did it for you too. That's amazing love. That's beyond comprehension. That's God being what only God can be.

I love being a daddy. I thank God for the miracle that has changed my life for the past six months. I look forward to the years of hugs, wet kisses, boo-boos, temper tantrums, dirty diapers, and sleepless nights to come.

Thursday, September 13, 2007

Old Man Eyebrows

It's finally happened. It's official. I'm old. You know how I know? My eyebrows. I have old man eyebrows. What the heck happened? Most of my life, my eyebrows have been so thin that they barely showed up at all. When I was a news anchor, I used to have to darken my eyebrows with a pencil to get them to show up on TV. (Yeah, there's a secret I probably shouldn't be divulging.)

But now, I've got these wild, wiry projectiles protruding
from my forehead like some kind of sagebrush on steroids. I'm Andy Rooney, Mark Twain and a rockhopper penguin all rolled into one! Ack!

It reminds me of a line from the movie City Slickers:

"Do you know what I found yesterday? Hair in my ear.
I'm losing hair where I want hair and
getting hair where there shouldn't be hair.
I found four big fat ones on my back;
I'm starting to look like the fly."
-Billy Crystal in City Slickers

Dang. Getting old sucks. And, apparently, it gets pretty hairy.

Sunday, September 2, 2007

Next Please...

I recently encountered another one of my pet peeves. I had just gotten back from a 10-day trip out of the country and I was craving a good old-fashioned American cheeseburger. As soon as I made my way through Customs and Immigration at LAX, I headed for the food court. The closest thing they have to a burger joint is McDonald's (sorry if that offends anyone, I'm just not a big fan of Micky D's. But after 10 days of eating rice, it'll do.) As I walk up, I see four registers open...but there are only two really long lines. Why is that? People will form two extremely long lines instead of four shorter ones. I approached the lady who was standing at the end of the two lines...straddling both lines. "Which line are you in?" I asked. "Whichever one is faster." she answered. Are you kidding me?! Pick a stinking line already! We were down to two lines, and now here she was trying to cut it down to one! For four registers! C'mon people. Four registers. Four lines. I'm sorry if the pimple-faced kid at your register is slower than the one at mine. I'm sorry if the guy in front of you is ordering 6 Big with no onions, two with mayonnaise only, one with no pickles, one with just meat and bread and the other without the "special sauce." But that's the breaks. That's the risk you take. But you gotta commit. "Next Please..."