Both ends of the cute spectrum


Dear Izzy, Max, and Kate,

I found you feeding your breakfast to Pluto a few mornings ago, Kate. I couldn’t help but to sneak a picture. We both laughed as I mimicked the sound of Pluto eating your waffles.

I went back to fixing my oatmeal and coffee – the smile and warmth stayed with me the rest of the morning.

I’m watching your big sister become a beautiful young lady now; I’m starting to see that same beauty in you that will too quickly overtake your  childhood”cuteness”- sooner than I’d like. I try not to think about my daughters growing up and becoming beautiful. But I know it’s a reality I’ll face eventually. I’m a lucky man to have beautiful (cute!), smart, athletic and funny daughters. I don’t take it for granted.  

Mixed in with such heart-warming moments at home we still have plenty of “other” moments too. Like most of what happens at our house, this moment also happened around our breakfast/dinner table. A few nights ago Mommy asked if I needed anything specific from the grocery store.

“Deodorant,” I said. “I ran out this morning.”

“Me too,” you said, Max.

“You need deodorant, Max?” asked Mommy. “Do you stink?”

“Sometimes,” you said with a toothless Alfred E. Newman grin slowly spreading across your face as you spoke. We waited for it. The smile told us there was more coming. The seconds of silence became heavy and then you finished: “Mostly it’s because of my butt. My butt. My buuuuuutt.”

Your eyes grew wide and darted left and right back and forth between your sisters waiting for their reaction.

Not quite as heart warming as a curly haired daughter feeding her stuffed animal, but part of the the family portrait nonetheless. Mommy shook her head and mumbled “lovely…his butt”. The rest of us laughed and continued eating.

I’m glad I can still sneak up on you girls and catch you feeding your stuffed animals your breakfast and your brother is still all boy. 

I love you,


TRAINING: it’s Rocket City marathon week so I’m tapering all week.

Fri: Swam 1000 yards

Sat: none

Sun: Ran 8 miles

Mon: None