In lieu of reinventing the “Shane” I’ve decided to try a different approach to the New Year and simply reflect on what makes life worth living. I think everyone should do this on occasion and maybe that occasion should coincide with the beginning of a new year- sort of charge up and get your head straight right from the start. So here are some moments that I plan to draw from in 2009 to keep me moving down the road to happiness.

Connie is at the heart of our family happiness- without her none of the other moments that I have to draw strength from would have ever occurred.  So my wife earns the top spot in my New Years list of things to remember.

Watching the birth of my boys. I was there for both and I actively participated in the process. My advice to any expectant father is to not let this opportunity slip out of your grasp- be involved.

Giving Mack and Cayden their first bath after their birth. Holding their tiny forms in my hand and washing the birth from their bodies reassured me that I had the right stuff to be a Dad.

The 4^thof July 2003, I took Mack to the fireworks display at Camp Lejeune two-days after returning from Iraq. He ended up wetting his pants which was really uncommon for him at that age. But after thinking about it, he was probably afraid that if he went to the bathroom I wouldn’t be there when he returned. I held him, wet pants an all, until the fireworks ended- I guess I was afraid to let him go as well.

Teaching Cayden to ride a big boy bike. I put him on. I gave him a push. He rode away laughing. That was that- mission complete.

The first time Mack caught a baseball- not an under hand toss aimed for his glove, but an intentionally thrown hard ball that he had to chase and capture using a degree of coordination.

Invitations to snuggle with Cayden at bed time. Cayden likes to stroke the back of my neck when we lay together it’s the most loving gesture that I have ever experienced and it almost always ensures that I fall asleep before he does.

Being at the bus stop when the boys get home from school and getting to experience first hand the unabashed excitement that little boys feel when they discover that home is right where they left it.

Mack’s omelets and Cayden’s cereal crumbs.

Summer mornings watching my boy’s catch fish only slightly larger than the bait used to catch them.

Holding hands and walking 4-abreast with the members of my family.

The day my boys reached for me first to comfort them when they got a boo-boo. No offense honey, Mom will always be number one in the comforting department, but sure is nice that I can come in a close second.

The feeling of relief when your baby’s fever breaks at 2 in the morning and you no longer have to worry about taking them to the emergency room.

Sleeping with my boys when they were scared or sick so that if they woke up in the middle of the night they would know they‘re not alone.

Christmas mornings- because Santa still visits our home.

School pageants, not because my boys are great singers or thespians, but for the wacky, unscripted antics they perform to entertain our friends and neighbors.

Stick figure drawings, play-do sculptures, and creations made from a metric ton of glitter glue.

The way my boys interact with each other when they believe no one is listening- I think they actually like each other.

Movie night when Connie and I get the pleasure of snuggling with both dudes on the same couch cushion- because neither of them can decide which parent to choose.

Evening wrestling matches- except for the fact that I always have to play the villain, for once I would love to be the good guy.

Teaching the guys how to make the perfect paper airplane and then waking up the next morning to find every paper product in the house had been turned into a vehicle for flight.

Free cookies at the local grocery store. This is such a common practice that the folks in the bakery know the guys by name and which cookies from the “free tray” they favor.

Shaving with the guys on Sunday mornings- though neither of them has any restraint on the use of after shave or shaving cream.

Listening to the boy’s band (The Land Brothers) rehearse- it’s a sound only a parent could endure.

Cayden’s little boy voice. Mack lost his at the tender age of 5- somehow Cayden has managed to maintain.

Making Cayden spit out his milk at the dinner table by giving him a goofy look when Connie’s not paying attention.

The grocery store cereal aisle.

Mack’s consideration for his friend’s feelings. The kid is a diplomat- not for personal gain, but because he cares about others.

Cayden’s sense of humor. The kid should go on the road he would make a fortune.

Covering the kids up and touching them one last time before Connie and I head to bed.

This list is only a start. I could sit here all day and write down every thing the boys have given me over the past eight years- and maybe I should. Just the few minutes I have spent has reminded me of things that I haven’t thought about in years and other things that are so common that I don’t even recognize their significance. Ponder this, if you don’t stop and think about the little things that happen in your family and commit them to memory you’ll lose them forever- and that would be tragic.

Maybe for 2009, I’ll write down one thing per day that defines the experience of being a father to Mack and Cayden. What do you know, I just figured out a worthwhile New Years resolution.

When the kids were younger and we were out on the town I dreaded hearing the words “Dad I have to go to the bathroom”. You may think I’m whining or being unreasonable but the simple act of taking kids into a public bathroom is far from simple. Think about it- every child is equipped with two grasping devices known as hands- at least until they enter any area where you wish to maintain control of what they touch. At this point six additional arms, with attached grasping devices, shoot from their torso. Now imagine being in a not-so-clean gas station men’s room with an unruly three-foot tall octopus whose only desire is to touch every unsanitary surface within reach. If that was the only problem to contend with I could probably learn to cope- but with my boys that piece was only the beginning.

My oldest was a terror in any bathroom- let alone one servicing the public at large.  When he was 3 or 4, he would enter a public john, scan the lay of the land and immediately rocket to the first occupied stall within his line of sight. As an aside, why did engineers decide to adopt a bathroom door design that leaves just enough room for young children to pop their heads under? I also wonder what races through the minds of unsuspecting stall occupants when they are suddenly interrupted by an inquisitive, curly headed little boy? This never happened to me when I was a non-father, but I imagine that it’s quite an unpleasant experience.

I didn’t blame my kids- at that point they had yet to master rest room etiquette. My children, probably not unlike yours, weren’t equipped at birth with proper public bathroom decorum or an understanding of social taboos. I’m working with them, but this type of education often takes a back seat to things like eating, speaking and breathing- even at 6 and 8 they only have a rudimentary understanding. So I’ve come to accept a degree of embarrassment every time I walk into a public rest room.

For example, my boys saw nothing wrong with starting up a conversation with a complete stranger about the size, color or consistency of their bowel movements. They also considered it reasonable behavior to imitate flatulence and comment on the foul odors coming from each stall. Cayden’s favorite statement when he walked into a rest room was (and still is to this day) “Oh Daddy it smells in here, uggghhh, yuck someone is soooooooo stinky”- talk about giving someone a complex. To add insult to injury, while Cayden provided commentary on the funk factor Mack would typically stand off to the side making fart noises and giggling- the rest room would become unnaturally quiet while this scenario unfolded. These behaviors may not surprise other parents, but if you’re that “20-something” non-parent using the crapper at a Wal-Mart it may unsettle you tremendously.

As my kids matured our adventures in public bathrooms have evolved. I no longer worry about them sticking their lips to a toilet seat or eating the big blue mint in the urinal, but they still find ways to keep me on my toes. For instance, my boys love handicap stalls- they treat them like mini in-law suites. They’re roomier than the average stall and many come equipped with their own sink- definitely something to be revered and certainly worth fighting for. If we happen upon one in our travels the guys immediately rush in, locking the door behind them as they go. I may not see them again for 20-minutes, and then only after the indignity of bribing them to resurface. There have been times, however when the stall‘s charms were so great that no amount of bribery could pry them loose from it‘s grasp. The conversations when this occurs generally resemble the following:

Dad- Knock, knock, knock

Mack- “whoooo issss itttt” (sing song voice)

Dad- “You know who it is- open the door and lets get moving”

Mack- “I’m very busy right now whoever you are, could you come back later”

Dad- “Mack, you know exactly who this- grab your brother and get out here right now!”

Mack- “Hold on, let me see if Cayden is in” (pause) “Nope, not here. If you like, you can leave your name with his assistant, “Larry Powershields“. (giggle, giggle, snort)

Dad- “I’m about to lose it guys get out of there right now!”

Cayden- “Hey Mack I’m not going out there that guy sounds angry”

Dad- “Quit calling me that guy, you know who this is, now get your butts out here before I pull the door off the hinges!”

When this type of thing happens I end up spending an inordinate amount of time contemplating how to unhinge a stall door with only the objects in my pocket (i.e. change, lint and a blockbuster receipt) so that I can once more gain control of our outing.  Luckily, the guys can read my intentions pretty well and resurface right before I dismantle public property.

They have become so enamored with these over-sized stalls that I actually thought about building one in our back yard and placing it next to our swing set. The only trouble is I would have every kid in the neighborhood lined up to take a ride on Mr. Shane’s toilet train- not something that I want to be remembered for.

The latest trend in my boy’s public bathroom behavior is an unquenchable desire to visit every restaurant restroom that they can- and spend as much quality bonding time as possible while inside. It never fails. We go out for dinner, we get seated, we order our drinks and then the request is levied. Normally, the request comes in three phases. Phase 1, Cayden needs to go but Mack doesn’t. Phase 2, Mack needs to go but Cayden doesn’t. Phase 3, both boys need to go at the same time. All three phases require fatherly supervision. Phase 3 is notoriously the most painful because both boys now have past experience in that particular rest room and have all ready identified points of interest for discussion. This is extremely problematic now that Mack can read. For example, he wants to call “Sarah” for a play date because the writing on the bathroom wall has identified her as “a good time”. He has also learned some new verbs that cannot be politely explained to an 8-year old without the aid of an anatomically correct doll.

Cayden doesn’t read well yet, but still finds activities to make his visit enjoyable. His latest kick is electronic paper towel dispensers- the ones that require you to pass your hand in front of a sensor. Something about these little bathroom robots has captured his imagination.  He can stand there for hours making them produce yards of paper towels.  Every time he starts this drill images of a barren Brazilian rainforest flash through my brain and I feel like an enemy of our environment.  If the rest room is equipped with hot air hand dryers instead of paper towels he engages in an entirely different set of behaviors.  When he runs into one of these devices he positions himself underneath it and presses the button while the hot air beats down on his little blond head.  He normally stops about three-seconds before contracting heat stroke- in the mean time Mack and I are sweating our butts off because Cayden single handedly raised the rest room temperature to  a balmy 108 degrees.

So as you can see everything you do as a parent can become an adeventure- even something as seemingly benign as using a public bathroom.  I never thought about these things when Connie was pregnant with Mack.  I had no idea that I would one day have to put so much energy and forethought into the basic functions of humanity- but as parents that’s what you do on an all most daily basis.  Never lose sight of the fact that kid’s begin a new adventure everyday, and those things that we, as adults, have come to view as mundane are ripe with potential fun for the little ones.

Just so you don’t think it’s all fun and games at the Groah house I included some out takes from our Christmas card photo shoot.

Check out the evil glare on my youngest- he looks like a lead singer for a death metal band.  If Connie would have shown me this picture before I gave Cayden authentic ornaments (to include hooks) to adorn me with I probably would have put him in charge of decorations which were a little more benign- like marshmallows, cotton balls or dryer lint.

This photo was taken a few seconds after.  As you can see from my facial expression I was caught a bit off guard by the placement of Cayden’s first ornament i.e. the one hanging from my testicles.  If I remember correctly Cayden told me to “Suck it up Dad, you’re being a Nut-Nut-N-Dut Head”.

As I patiently wait (30-minutes) for Connie to run through her litany of parenting skills (aka bribery) in an attempt to get the shoot back on track.  Mack was as temperamental as a Pop Diva- the slightest insult to his creative genius would set him off.  You can catch a glimpse of him to the left, I believe he was about to throw his Santa hat to the ground and stomp out of the room.

If you’re wondering why I no longer appear to be in pain it’s because the tinsel was wrapped so tightly around my waist that it not only stemmed the blood flow resulting from the multiple hook puncture wounds but it also caused my lower extremities to go numb- awesome.

Connie was hoping to capture at least one tender, serious moment for our holiday card- I did my best to oblige. 

She snapped about 45 images trying to get one of me not acting like an idiot.  This shot was actually the runner-up.  That being said you can’t even imagine what the rest of them looked like- friggin hilarious (at least I think so).

To note- Connie didn’t think I had the “stones” to post such an unflattering photo, but I let her know that in 2009, “Goofy” is the new “Sexy”- I’m cutting edge in all that I do…

I thought I would wrap up the holiday season by posting this year’s Groah Family Christmas card.  Every year we work extremely hard to come up with an original way to spread Christmas cheer and this year was no different.

Inside Left-

Connie and I decided to go with a national emergency theme this year- how’s that for Holly Jolly?  We thought that reminding everyone that the economy is in the crapper would be a completely appropriate way of saying Merry Christmas.  We mailed them at the last minute too- we didn’t want to hinder holiday spending and thwart that whole economic stimulus thingy.  In fact, most of the cards arrived Christmas Eve- just in time to remind people that they probably went beyond their means on power rangers and transformers- “Ho, Ho, Ho you’re broke, Merry Christmas and a Happy High Interest rate credit card payment!”  I’ve gotten several pieces of hate mail since- where is your sense of humor folks?

Inside Right-

Believe it or not, it was my idea to allow my boys to decorate me like a Christmas tree.  I got the idea from “Mooseltoe” by Margie Palatini- one of the guys’ favorite books.  In the book, a cartoon moose forgets to buy a Christmas tree and decides to take one for the team and decorate himself instead.  Bit of advice- just because a cartoon moose does something does not mean that an actual person should.  I stood in the corner for about two hours while Connie tried to coax the guys into participating.  When they finally did decide to join in it was only because they wanted a free shot at the old man.  Case in point- Cayden worked like hell to hang an ornament from my nipple and Mack thought it would be funny to plug the tree topper into my buttocks, lucky I convinced him my butt’s a closed circuit and nothing was getting plugged into it.

Some other interesting tidbits- perspiration will short out a string of Christmas tree lights resulting in a quick little blast of electrical current followed by a puff of ozone.  I thought for sure I was going to burst into flames any minute which may explain the goofy look on my face- I call that my “making peace with my maker before I combust face”.  Another bit of advice- never tie your legs together with tinsel and plug your self into a wall socket unless you have an enormous bladder.  Like I said, I was standing in the corner for two hours just like you see me in the photo and about 45 minutes into it I had to relieve myself. Sadly, Mack had a meltdown right about the time I hit critical mass and Connie had run off to talk him off the proverbial ledge- that left me and Cayden.

D- “Hey Cay, can you unplug daddy so he can hop to the bathroom?”

C- “Hey Dad, what’s 347 minus 128?”

D- “Dude, Dad has got to go.  Will you unplug me or not?”

C- “Hey Dad, can I have some gum?”

I was getting nowhere with Cayden so I started hopping in the hope that I would break free of my extension cord leash and manage to not fall flat on my face.  I was back in place by the time Connie decompressed Mack and when they returned the above photo was snapped…thank God!

Although we were pleased with this picture, I still secretly think I look like the result of some unholy union between Frankenstein’s monster and TinkerBell- friggin’ creepy.

Back of card-

Isn’t this a sweet shot?  This is my lovely wife thanking me for being such a good sport- that made the electrical burns and the funky tinsel rash all worth it.  Oh BTW, if your interested in owning the tree topper hat, it makes a great conversation piece at the office- who needs a Christmas-themed tie when you can be the tree?