#33 Color Commentary

March Madness is far and away my favorite yearly sporting event. Year after year I find myself sucked in by the drama of back-and-forth finishes, star performances, and amazing upsets. But this year has been even more special. This year I have Lanie to watch the games with me. She doesn't understand anything that's going on yet; in fact, I'm pretty sure she can't even see far enough to make out what's happening on the TV. But that doesn't matter, because her daddy is around to announce the game for her. I fill her in on big threes and huge dunks and crucial defensive stops. I explain the foolishness of risky passes, the beauty of patiently finding the open man, and the hope brought by key offensive rebounds. And most of all, I emphasize again and again the necessity of making free throws. You have to make your free throws. (Hopefully, if I repeat this enough to Lanie while she grows up, she'll just inherently know the importance of foul shots if she does decide to play hoops.) Lanie normally just looks at me while I provide my color commentary, but every once in a while she flashes a smile that suggest she enjoys it. I'll turn her into an expert yet.

Lanie enjoying Saturday's Elite Eight games with Daddy

Grace and peace,
BMH

#32 Minesweeper

This weekend our youth group fasted for thirty hours for World Renew's FAST Forward program. When we weren't collecting food for the local food bank, doing Bible studies, or having worship times, we played some games. One of these games simulated the dangers people in many parts of the world face as they cross fields littered with unexploded ammunition to gather food. One member of each team had to walk blindfolded through a "field" of styrofoam cups while another member of the team guided them. If the scavenger touched a cup, they had to put down whatever they had picked up, and the next person on the team took over.

At the end of the game, my team and the team next to us were both gathering our final can of food. By the time my teammate started, the other team was just about on their way back. I quickly guided my teammate to the can. We were in total sync. He passed cup after cup without a problem. When he turned around to come back, the other team was almost halfway back. I started yelling out directions to "take big steps" and "just go!" Bit by bit we hauled in the other team, bounding over and around cups with ease. With the two scavengers nearly neck and neck a few feet from the finish, I instructed my teammate to jump forward, and he just beat out the other team. We screamed and jumped and hugged each other in wild celebration of our victory. Finally, I thought, we won a game! What a comeback! I basked in the glow of this triumph for a few hours until we reviewed the scores at the end of the weekend. It turns out, the third team had finished collecting their items a couple minutes before us. We had been totally oblivous. Here I had made a fool of myself celebrating over just another game we lost. We'll see if I live this one down.

Grace and peace,
BMH

#31 Daddy Day

Monday is far and away the best day of my week because Monday is Daddy Day. On Monday I get more time with Lanie than any other day of the week. Tess is happy because she gets freedom to relax or take care of projects that she can't get around to on other days. Lanie is happy because she still gets attention. But Daddy is the real winner on Daddy day. I get to cuddle and bounce and kiss and sing to my sweet babes, who smiles and coos and stares back at me. I've had some busy weeks at work over the past month. But Mondays, by comparison, remain beautifully, refreshingly chill. My squirmy, happy, gassy, adorable, sweet daughter is experiencing so many new things, and I get to experience them with her. It's the best.

This week's Daddy Day got a little interrupted by shoveling and a tax appointment. But Lanie and I still managed to pack in quite a bit. We bounced up and down. We used her swing while listening to a couple albums by The Civil Wars. She pooped through her diaper and screamed at me while I lovingly cleaned her up. We cuddled in the recliner as she took a nap. We took some precious pictures. She spit up all over my shirt. We walked around the house. We made faces at each other, and I did my best to imitate her noises. We held hands. I rubbed her belly. We did tummy time. For the most part, we just kept each other warm and happy while getting to know each other just a little better. Today was a good day.

Grace and peace,
BMH

#30 3:00 AM

"Brian! Brian!" The voice of Tess pulls me out of my normal deep sleep. My eyes spring open and glance around our bedroom, dimly illuminated by a nightlight. As I try to piece together what's happening, I hear Lanie crying. "Can you change her diaper? I need to run to the bathroom before I feed her." Slowly my brain figures out what Tess is asking. I mumble something positive and grab my glasses so that I can see what I'm doing. The cold sensation of leaving my covers behind wakes me up just a little more as I pick up my squirming daughter in her bundle of blankets. "Hi, Lanie," I coo, staggering toward the changing pad. I flick the lightswich on and blink in the brilliant light. Lanie's fussing grows louder and louder. I peel back her sleeper, grab a new diaper and a baby wipe, and open her old diaper to survey the damage. As Lanie wails at me, I try to reassure her that everything's okay while wiping her off as quickly and effectively as I can manage in my sleepy stupor. After securing the new diaper, I trash the old one and wash my hands. By the time I'm finished, Tess has appeared to rezip Lanie's sleeper and carry her off for feeding time. I stumble back to the bedroom, nearly asleep by the time I pull the covers back up. As I drift back to dreamland, I have only one thought: I love my sweet babes.

Grace and peace,

BMH