No Coincidences

Category: Family

  • Spanking

    Spanking

    This last weekend Beth went out of town so it was Daddy weekend with my girls. We had an awesome weekend. We had Daddy Dinners which included meals Dad loves but Mom doesn’t (there’s a whole lotta chili involved). We spent a whole day at the pool. We went to a Notre Dame High School barbeque with food, snacks, and activities. We went to the grocery store TWO times. We had a movie night in Dad’s bed with the projector. It was a great weekend.

    Ivy has had some behavior challenges of late. Those challenges continued over the weekend.

    On Sunday, the last day before Mom was coming home, we went to church. Ivy did not do a good job and we had to leave before the first meeting was over.

    I was so frustrated. I loaded all three girls in the car and turned on the AC. I had to go back into church and clean up the mess we always leave behind, while the church meeting continued around me, load it up, and take the girls home.

    When we got home I put Wren down for her nap, setup Sage on the couch to watch a show, and took Ivy to her room.

    Despite the awesome weekend, Ivy’s misbehaviors loomed large. The most challenging thing as a parent is when your child is awesome 95% of the time and then does really, really bad things the other 5%. Because of the 95% you know she’s so capable.

    I won’t go into detail on the behavior but lest you think me a harsh, mean Dad, I’ll just say the behavior was unacceptable and important to be corrected. I’ll leave it at that.

    After Ivy was in her room I stood over her fuming. I was so frustrated. I took deep breaths to calm myself. I told Ivy I had to spank her.

    We don’t spank. It has happened maybe twice in our family and I don’t like it. But enough was enough. Ivy had to learn some things were unacceptable. I didn’t know how else to bring that lesson home.

    She freaked out a little when I said I had to spank her. As she was doing that, I closed my eyes and prayed.

    She asked what I was doing.

    I told her I was praying asking Heavenly Father what I should do. I was asking for help on how to deal with my daughter with love. How to show her I loved her but that her behavior had to be better. I desperately didn’t want to spank her. But I didn’t know what to do.

    Ivy loves pretending to be characters. It’s a fun thing about her. I love it. I love her creativity and her mind. All day every day she’ll pretend to be Dash from the Incredibles, the red head girl from the movie Leap, Alfalfa from Little Rascals, Justin Bieber when she’s singing, Ghost Spider, Huckleberry Finn, Snow White. You name it. If it’s a fictional character (or sometimes not fictional, see Justin Bieber), Ivy has pretended to be them.

    Back in Ivy’s room, considering spanking, not wanting to, praying for help, I don’t even remember thinking it. The next part just happened. I told her no more characters until she could improve on the things she wasn’t improving on. I told her I was not participating in her fun ritual of being different characters throughout the day until she could fix her behavior.

    Ivy reacted way worse at this than if I had actually spanked her. You’d have thought I told her the world was ending. She was beside herself. Distraught. She begged me to let her be a character. I told her not until she improved and I left her in her room for nap time.

    I did not spank her.

    When Ivy woke up she immediately asked if she could be a character and I said no. I told her she could be a character after three days of making good decisions.

    That was two days ago as I’m writing this and Ivy’s behavior has improved 100-fold. Zero issues. Zero problems. Every day she has asked when she could be a character again. I’ve told her the day it can happen if she keeps doing a good job. She has accepted this.

    Now it’s Tuesday night and I’m writing this. She is very excited to be Justin Bieber tomorrow.

    I reminded her that if her actions revert back it will be another 3 days of no characters. I don’t think it will come to that. This has been a brutal 3 days for her.

    This is your reminder that prayer is real, and prayer is powerful.

    I was praying for help and I received it. I say again, I didn’t even realize what I was doing. It just came out of my mouth. “Ivy no more characters until you start to behave better.”

    I didn’t want to resort to spanking, but I thought I was out of options. I didn’t know what to do. With God, and prayer, there is always something else you can do.

    God answered my prayer that day and I’m so grateful for that. I know Ivy and Sage and Wren will have other challenges. They’ll never be perfect and I don’t want them to be. I hope they’ll accept that I’m extremely, very much, far from a perfect dad.

    But as their behavior is challenging and I think I’ve run out of options, I hope I can remember to pray.

    The Father of me, you, and the universe answers. In this life I’ll never be a perfect Father. But they still have a perfect Father.

    And He loves His children.

  • Responsibility to Love

    Responsibility to Love

    I’ve written on this topic before. What to do With All the Love. Love Has Afforded Me Much. A slightly new thought came to me on this topic.

    There is a great responsibility for firstborns to love.

    Think about it.

    I was thinking about Sage. For her whole existence up to a point she will have shared, to some extent, the love and affection she receives with Ivy. Does this mean Sage is loved any less? No, absolutely not. She is endlessly loved.

    That said, she has shared her love with Ivy.

    It made me think, yet again, of all the singular love poured out on Ivy in her first 21 months.

    It made me reflect on the love I received in the 45 months before Adie joined our family.

    How did that shape me?

    Given the measure of love and affection I received from two loving parents, singularly focused attention and love for 45 months, does that increase my responsibility to love?

    Given this theory, I think firstborns have a higher responsibility to love. With great power comes great responsibility. There is no greater power in the world than love.

    Maybe this is why the firstborn gets the birthright (wink face).

    Thos of us who have experienced love, been given love, have felt love, it’s important for us to share that. There are so many in the world that don’t grow up in a loving household. If you’re reading this and you did grow up in a loving household, you’ve been given an advantage in life worth more than a huge inheritance. You’ve been given a huge leg up in this life if you were born into a loving home.

    Share it.

    Don’t waste the gift you’ve been given.

    Now, here’s some food for thought to counter my “firstborn love theory” (Trademark pending) –

    Other ideas to consider, did my love actually expand with the arrival of Adie (my little sister) because I had experienced love and now I got to share it with my little sister? Did my first learning experience of giving love outside of my parents who already loved me so much grow my capacity to love even more? Did getting to love somebody who couldn’t do anything for me help my capacity to love, learning at a young age to love somebody without getting anything in return? Does that add to my responsibility as the firstborn?

    Or is Adie’s capacity to love greater than mine because she was born into loving a 3 person family, unlike myself? Does that make Easton’s (youngest of 6) capacity to love 3x mine since he was born into a family 3 times bigger than the one I was born into? How does this balance with my personal capacity to love expanding every time a new baby joined our family?

    Love.

    We need to think about it more.

    Which leads to the ultimate, and powerful question: is love in limited supply?

    We all have an infinite capacity to love. I don’t believe there is any limit on how we can love. I think God is our example in this. Think about how much He loves you. Whether you come from a loving household or not, whether you’re the firstborn of 10, an only child, an orphan, the youngest of 2, and all examples in between, you have a divine capacity to love. Divine. Your Father is God. He loves you. Your capacity to love is infinite. Use it. Share it.

    Epilogue

    The above post was written in May of 2023. I kid you not, as I opened it to review and post in 2026, Beth sent me a video with a text attached.

    The text read: “Wren kept asking, “Where Ivy?” Then Ivy came down and Wren waved and said, “Good morning Ivy!” And gave her a hug. But Ivy was still waking up a bit so when she sat down to eat, Wren came over, gave her another gentle hug, and started gently rubbing Ivy’s back. It’s like Wren is teaching them how to love.”

    I replied, “Reminding them.”

    And Beth said, “Blog post!”

    She knows me too well. But I didn’t realize I was about to post this!

    We’ve been struggling a little with Ivy and Sage being gentle and loving with Wren as they get older. They are the older sisters, a lot more rambunctious and a lot more physical. Sometimes Wren messes up their “set ups” (toys they’ve setup). Wren wants to be with them and play with them but she’s very destructive. They struggle sharing with Wren. Wren is still little. So they’ve had a hard time.

    But I know that Ivy was sent here to be an example as the oldest sister. I know that Sage was sent here to be a peacekeeping, independent, strong second daughter to keep everyone connected. Maybe Wren was sent to remind us all how to love. Maybe she’s meant to teach us to be a little more patient with one another.

    EternalPerspective.

  • A Letter to my Brother

    A Letter to my Brother

    You think you’ve lived.

    You think you’ve loved.

    You think you’ve cried.

    You think you’ve felt.

    You haven’t felt anything yet.

    Prepare yourself.

    When that baby girl is born in June you’ll realize in one momentous second that you’ll never be the same.

    It’s the strangest thing. You’ve thought this whole time you’ve had a life and then in one moment you realize, “Woah.” Words can’t describe the moment a child is born. “Heart expanding” isn’t all encompassing enough. You’ve never had a heart until now. You realize all of a sudden every capacity to care and love that your being has possessed pales in comparison to this overwhelming feeling of care and protection you have for this helpless thing.

    It’s the craziest thing.

    Advice.

    Don’t blink. Dwell on how quickly time passes just enough to kick yourself into gear. So that when you’re tired, and, oh, you think you’ve been tired before now? You’ve never known tired. When you’re tired and grumpy and thinking you can’t wait until they just get out of diapers, or put on their own pants, or pour their own cereal, until you remember one day will be the last diaper, the last time helping them put on pants, the last time pouring their cereal. Remember every day that one day will be the last day for all these things, and it makes it easier.

    Don’t watch those “memories videos” iPhones make at any point after having a daughter. Unless you have 3 hours to spare melting into a puddle of sadness, joy, despair, and existential crisis thinking about how time goes by. And your girl grows.

    Don’t dwell on this too much or your heart will explode out of your chest.

    Don’t let the time go by without noticing.

    Don’t hate the sleepless nights too much, because, dare I even say, one day you’ll miss them.

    Many a father has experienced a new level of emotion when considering that their baby girl will one day grow up.

    So don’t miss a moment.

    Don’t listen to Beautiful Things once you have a daughter. Your heart can’t take it.

    Be careful listening to any songs.

    Be prepared for movies you used to enjoy taking on a whole new meaning. Hook is no longer a fun story about Peter Pan, it’s a story of fatherhood.

    You’ll have the HIGHEST highs and the lowest lows.

    In 5 years you’ll be a new person. You won’t even realize it’s happening. But one day you’ll realize, in an all-powerful moment – you are a new person. Probably a better person. You’ll learn so much you didn’t know you needed to learn.

    Your faith will grow. Your faith will be tested.

    Be a good father, and husband, at all costs. Nothing else matters as much as this.

    Be careful not to miss what she teaches you. Be like her.

    Don’t forget that children are angels sent from heaven and because of that, God will always watch over them, and you.

    Don’t forget to take her everywhere you can.

    Don’t forget that even sickness can be a blessing.

    ALWAYS embrace the chaos.

    I guess I could go on forever. But most of it you’ll have to learn on your own.

    Since you won’t be listening to Beautiful Things anymore I’ll give you my version:

    And I thank God every day
    For the girls He sent my way
    But I know the things He gives me
    He can take away

    And I hold them every night
    And that’s a feelin’ I never want to lose
    But there’s no man as terrified
    As the man who stands to lose

    Don’t be terrified. Just know time flies. Don’t waste it. Welcome to fatherhood.

  • Six Flags Trip Report June 2024

    Six Flags Trip Report June 2024

    Another Six Flags trip I don’t want to forget! They must all be documented for posterity. 

    Unlike the previous one in April of 2025, Beth did not plan to join this trip. Her sister was getting married and Beth already had plans to go solo. What was I to do with Beth and Wren set for their own trip?

    Six Flags, of course. 

    You’ll notice we often go in June. This is no coincidence. In the California heat, only the most dedicated are willing to wait in line for roller coasters. This means shorter lines. Six Flags trips are full of formative moments that turn my girls into true Quackenbush girls. Only the strong survive.

    Ivy (age 4.5 at this time), Sage (age 3 years 9 months at this time), and I (age “old” at this time) left at 3:45am Thursday morning. We were planning a classic arrive at Six Flags in time for opening and spend the day there.

    Ivy and Sage slept for the start of the drive. That changed at 6:00am when Ivy awoke… and started to throw up. 

    Luckily Ivy was officially the age where she recognized she wasn’t feeling well, giving me time for her to get a bag to throw up in. She handled it like a champ.  

    We stopped at the next gas station to get Ivy cleaned up and prepare for the remainder of our drive. 

    As we continued to drive, Ivy continued to get sick the entire way.  

    In between every “throw up session,” Ivy would immediately start saying, “I’m okay, I feel better, I want to go to Six Flags.” Her resilience was admirable, but even I was starting to doubt our upcoming day at Six Flags. 

    I recognize that many of you are reading this and saying, “What is wrong with you? You were actually thinking about still taking your 4.5 year old into Six Flags after throwing up for 4 hours during the drive there!?” Well, anything is possible.  

    We continued our drive and Ivy continued to be a champ. 

    We arrived at the pre-arranged meeting place with my family who was driving from Las Vegas. 

    Ivy’s throwing up was so persistent I started to think she wasn’t just carsick, but was really sick, as in a stomach bug. Turned out it almost certainly was car sickness because as soon we got to Wendy’s she was fine. She ate a bunch of food and said she wanted to go to Six Flags. Who was I to argue?

    My notes on the actual time in Six Flags from almost two years ago are pretty sparse. These are my exact notes from back then: 

    Fine at park (Ivy didn’t throw up again).

    Fine on rides (Ivy). 

    Ivy loves the Merry go Round even after a whole day of puking.

    Balance of kid and adult rides. 

    Sage joy. 

    Ivy joy. 

    Great sisters. 

    Difficulty at Crazanity. 

    That last one I can elaborate on. At the very end of the night Ivy and Sage finally began to struggle. We planned to end our day at one of our favorite rides, Crazanity. Ivy and Sage did phenomenally for many hours at Six Flags. At the very end Ivy started to get crazy and was picking on Sage. All in all, they did awesome.

    We left to go get dinner.  

    Remember when I said this a couple paragraphs ago: 

    “Ivy’s throwing up was so persistent I started to think she wasn’t just carsick, but was really sick, as in a stomach bug. Turned out it almost certainly was car sickness because as soon we got to Wendy’s she was fine.”

    Maybe it was car sickness, but Sage threw up at dinner that night and… proceeded to throw up all night.

    Here are my notes again from that time: 

    6/21/24

    Sage threw up all night. 

    Haven’t really slept much in 48 hours. 

    In the morning she had a blow out diaper, up to her neck in it, literally.  

    Breakfast. 

    Sage threw up all over herself on the way to the beach. 

    Beach. 

    Awesome beach day. Sun, weather, sand, waves, water temperature.  

    Activities – body surfing, football, botchy ball, Spikeball. 

    Much needed nap. 

    Sage slept most of the time on the beach, poor girl.  

    When she was awake, she was all joy and laughter. She loved the sand and the beach. Huge difference from our last beach day that was cold, windy, and miserable. 

    Amazing seeing the transformation of Ivy the last couple months. Bag in the car and cleaning herself up. Her at the beach – in the water, playing in the sand, taking a nap, playing independently, eating fruit. It’s like watching her mature and grow overnight. 

    A couple months ago Ivy would go nowhere near the ocean. Now she was playing a game running away from the water but being totally fine when it “caught” her and she ended up waist deep. 

    Left the beach and went to the hotel. 

    Pizza. 

    Hanging out in the room. 

    Morning breakfast. 

    Pack up and head out. 

    Ivy and Sage both not throwing up. Stop for lunch at 2:00pm at Arby’s where Beth won’t let us eat.

    Start driving back. Re-route to save 1 hour 6 minutes (who doesn’t do that?).  

    Unfortunately it took us through a winding canyon and Sage immediately threw up. Car sickness? Stomach bug? Beth would say Arby’s? Who knew at this point.

    Finish the ride. Oh, wait, with 8 minutes left in our journey (not kidding), Ivy threw up all over herself.

    Baths and bed. 

    Those are my original notes from the time and they seem good enough to paint the picture of the trip.

    These are trips I will forget because as I get older all these memories start to slip. One day soon I’ll read this back and cry extensive tears missing these days. I love my girls.

  • Grandpa Frank

    Grandpa Frank

    My most vivid memory of Grandpa Frank, aside from the “Wogs” (the nickname he had for me) and sitting on his lap as a kid, being squeezed into a ball, and being told I would grow up that way, is a few years ago when he bore his testimony in a church meeting. Paraphrasing, Grandpa said:

    “I miss my wife. I miss my daughter. I miss them so much. But this Gospel tells me I will see them again. That means more to me than anything. And I know it’s true, and that brings me so much comfort.”

    As the legend goes, Grandma Leach converted to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in her early 30s. While Grandma lugged kids to church every Sunday, Grandpa Frank would watch football, golf, or go fishing. He seldom attended. He showed little to no interest in church.

    Again, as legend goes, after over a decade of this, the bishop of Grandma’s ward came to the door one day.

    “Are you excited for this Saturday?!” He asked.

    “What is happening Saturday?” Grandma asked, confused.

    “Frank’s baptism!” The bishop exclaimed.

    Grandma had no idea. For months, on the sly, Grandpa Frank had been meeting with the missionaries and studying the Book of Mormon. He decided it was true. I have no idea why he never told Grandma. I don’t think anyone knows. Maybe this is where I get my secretive, stubborn, frustratingly independent qualities (sorry Beth).

    That Saturday he got baptized and proceeded to go to church with the family from then on.

    What is the Gospel of Jesus Christ, really?

    Change. A man who preferred football, golf, or fishing realized the most important thing in his world was his family. He sacrificed what he wanted to do on Sunday for them.

    What is the Gospel of Jesus Christ, really?

    Faith. A man who decided to believe something extraordinary: he could and would spend eternity with those he loved most.

    What is the Gospel of Jesus Christ, really?

    Love.

    I didn’t cry when I heard Grandpa died. I know I’ll see him again. I know where he is. I know he’s happy.

    As I write this, a vision comes to my mind.

    Grandpa Frank sees Grandma Sandra. He smiles. He is overjoyed to be reunited with the love of his love, his constant companion until the previous four years separated them temporarily. He embraces her. “It’s really true, Sandra?”

    “You always knew it was,” Grandma tells him.

    Others come. Grandpa is surrounded by Laura, Mike, Henry, Olivia, parents, grandparents, friends, loved ones, and Bengie, of course. They rejoice. People (and a dog) he missed so much, but always knew he’d see again.

    As I picture this reunion, and I think about where I am, similarly stubborn and obnoxious as Grandpa Frank, I think about my daughters, and this family I’ve been given. I think about the faith I’ve gained because I’ve seen examples of real faith. Faith as tangible as this keyboard I now type on. Grandpa Frank’s faith was real. I think about those I’ll one day see again. I think about those I have in my life now, that I’ll be able to have in my life forever. As I consider this all, I cry tears of joy.

    This is the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

    I know that Grandpa knew it and I know where he is now.

    What greater comfort is there than this?

    Thank you, Grandpa, I’ll see you soon.