That’s right. 33 years baby. 32 was so nice I am reluctant to give it up. But alas the planet went all the way around the sun… and since it worked so hard to do that I’ll leave 32 behind and just plan on making 33 feel better by accepting its label for the next 365 days.
Crazy fact: While I hit the 1/3 century mark this year. My mom is only 39. Go figure.
Party with me:That’s right. You can see me live and in person [better than dead and on TV] at Lucha Libre in San Diego tonight. We are joining up with another Great American, Erin from our community group, and together we will dine in the Champions Booth… enjoying its amazing gold pleather boothiness while eating our tacos on fine china. Starting at 6:30 we will enjoy tacos, TJ hotdogs, and soda pop.
Eight years. Two thousand nine hundred and twenty-two days. Seventy thousand one hundred and twenty eight minutes. Four million two hundred and seven thousand six hundred and eighty seconds.
Our daughter turns eight today. Unlike last year, there were no tears as she welcomed eight into her life. She has been counting down the days and finally it is here.
Seven has been a big year for her. A year ago she proclaimed that one day her and Paul would move back to Romeo and buy back 449 N. Bailey Street. A year ago she was almost done with first grade. A year ago she hadn’t driven across the United States with me. A year ago she hadn’t even been to San Diego.
The last year has been one adventure after another. She has become our wave hopping beach lover. She has learned to swim. She has started to learn to ride a boogey board. She has become infatuated with nature, wildlife, and learning all about animals. She has mastered addition and subtraction and begun multiplication and division. She has learned how to save $50 of her allowance. She has learned how to stay up super late reading big thick books.
As a seven year old Megan survived six months of sharing a bedroom with her little brother.
Much has changed for Megan in the last 12 months. But some things haven’t. She is still loving and kind. She still loves to trick us. She still loves stories. She still lives in a pretend world, in a good way. She has tried new things like hip hop class. She has been very brave in making new friends at Darnall. She doesn’t even notice/care that she is a minority. She can still out-fart 90% of men in the world. She is still a picky eater.
When we asked Megan how she wanted to celebrate we kind of hoped we could talk her into celebrating over the weekend. She wouldn’t have that. So rather than have much of a party she opted for a family trip to Sea World after school. Last night we shared some Shamu birthday cake with our community group, today she is taking cupcakes to school… and then at noon we are grabbing the kids from school [they have a half day each Tuesday] and spending the rest of the day watching the dolphins, dogs/cats, penguins, and Shamu at our new favorite place on earth.
My five year old son is a pretty funny little guy. Somehow I don’t think he gets that birthday presents are about the recipient more than the giver.
This morning, we were asking Paul for some gift ideas for his big sister. Here were a few ideas:
#1 A goat.
#2 A donut with a bite out of it.
#3 A clip-on fan for her bed.
#4 A knuckle-sandwich machine.
Now, I do have to say that while the knuckle-sandwich machine isn’t the best birthday present for your big sister… it is clever. You unwrap the present, open the box, and a hand flies out and punches you in the face.
It seems like we have some work left to do. Wait until I tell him he has to buy the present with his own money.
Despite Paul’s preference to believe that he was never a baby, today is his 5th birthday.
On August 8th, 2003 Kristen and I drove to Mount Clemens General for Paul’s scheduled birth. Since his sister was a big baby our doctor felt no need to make Kristen wait the typical 2 weeks after the due date. And for good reason. Several hours later baby Paul was born at 9 lbs 2 oz.
If you’ve not spent time with Paul you are missing out. Paul is a blast. He is full of energy, creativity, stories, ideas, and spunk. Paul has some of the best faces you’ve ever seen. Seriously, he can roll his eyes in a way that just cracks me up.
Paul is also a very physical kid. One of our favorite things to do is “wrestle.” Wrestling at our house essentially means that I get on the floor and throw them around for a while. Then Megan and Paul do some massive WWE moves to try to break me. They’ll jump off furniture or get a running start to dive onto my back. This is also a way I teach them to work together as the only way I’ll allow them to knock me down or pin me (they count to 4 and say, “We win!”) is to work together. While Megan and I always played together, Paul craves this physical contact. You’ll often see him run up and punch me in the stomach or pull my arm or push me or smack me on the butt. Those are all invitations to “fight.”
Here are a few more of Paul’s favorite things.
1. Karate. Paul has earned his first belt and can’t wait to start at his new school in San Diego.
2. Chicks. Paul’s man squeeze is Autumn. It doesn’t matter that she’s babysat him since he was about a week old, he’s madly in love with her. But she’s not his only girlfriend. At one point he claimed he had 100 girlfriends. Play on player.
3. Food. Seriously, the first thing he says when he wakes up is “What can I eat?” Sometimes he’s non-verbal in the morning and he just points to his mouth!
4. The computer. As I’ve talked about before, you’ve not lived until you see this little boy navigate his computer.
5. Superheros. Right now he’s into Pokemon. But he’s also into Power Rangers, Webkinz, and Scooby Doo.
Like his dad, Paul is very sensitive. As much as he likes the spotlight he also gets embarrassed easily. When he is confident about what he’s doing he is very confident. But when he is doing something he’s unsure about and he suddenly realizes other people are watching him, he bolts and hides.
I could go on writing about my son, but all of this is to say… Happy birthday Paul!
It’s hard to believe but my oldest child turns 7 today. Six was a good year to her. She has finished most of first grade. She is learning like crazy. She just got baptized. She has a lot of friends. She is in love with Webkinz.
Megan loves animals, especially her cat Lovely. While Lovely is a pretty grumpy cat to me, she is super gentle with Megan… who is a bit rough with the feline.
Turning seven is a big deal. As I look forward to the next 12 months for her I can foresee a lot of changes, a lot of exploration, and a lot more learning. Megan is just about the sweetest kid you’ll ever meet. Gosh, I love that kid.
A couple of Megan tidbits from a daddy perspective—
Megan was born on the ideal day. Kristen and I were meticulous in planning the pregnancy. In our family, it’s against the rules to have a June baby as nearly every day is taken. And I didn’t want to have a baby while I was in school, so I needed to make sure she was born after finals and before mid-August. And Kristen didn’t want to be pregnant for a sweaty Chicago summer, so that left a window of May 12 to May 30th. In fact, we circled May 12th on the calender and did some math to.. um… time everything out. Yes, I’ve been known to make a plan and stick to it! So while Megan was technically “late” according to the doctor, she was born on the date we planned out many months before.
On November 20th, 2000 I journaled this about getting started with a family:We finally made an agreement to get started the first time we met your cousin Ryan. I instantly fell in love with his “McLane-ness” and I absolutely had to have one, my very own McLane. For some reason I was convinced that any children I had were going to look just like mommy’s family. (Jacob in particular.) But as soon as I saw little Ryan crawling around his grandparents yard I knew I was ready. He was just too cute and way too stubborn!Let’s just say that prophesy has come true. Megan is all McLane and she is slightly stubborn.
Megan was a boy. At least she was a boy 3 times in ultrasounds. (Friends of ours ran an ultrasound school and used Kristen’s belly as a lab rat. It wasn’t until Megan was about 5 minutes old that I made the observation and went over to Kristen… “Our boy doesn’t have a piece.” [direct quote!] In fact, on the video taken immediately after she was born you can hear us calling her Paul. (We’ve had our kids names picked out since we were dating!)
Eight years. Two thousand nine hundred and twenty-two days. Seventy thousand one hundred and twenty eight minutes. Four million two hundred and seven thousand six hundred and eighty seconds.
My five year old son is a pretty funny little guy. Somehow I don’t think he gets that birthday presents are about the recipient more than the giver.
Despite Paul’s preference to believe that he was 
