Tag: girl dad

  • Six Flags Trip Report April 2024

    Six Flags Trip Report April 2024

    I posted about Ivy’s first trip to Six Flags in 2023 –

    I also posted about our fourth trip in 2025 –

    You’ll notice a one year gap there where two trips were never shared. Here is our trip report from April of 2024 when I took Ivy for her second time to Six Flags and Sage for her first.

    (*I have notes from this trip that I’ve used to remember the details. I noticed I sometimes flipped between past and present tense. Normally I would fix this, but I think it adds to the chaotic feeling I felt during that trip, so I left it for your reading experience).

    This trip started off with all sorts of unfortunate adventures. Firstly, Beth was supposed to come, but she hadn’t been feeling well for a few days. As we packed up and started driving, she felt so sick she said she couldn’t do it. I turned around and dropped Beth back off at home.

    Secondly, we had a car trouble adventure. That deserves a post of its own, for another time. For the purpose of this trip summary, I’ll just say we left our home at 1:00pm and our 6-hour drive turned into 10 hours when we pulled into the hotel just before 11:00pm.

    Once on the road (after dropping Beth off and getting our car fixed):

    Our first pitstop was at a gas station. We went into the bathroom. The first thing I’ve come to appreciate about road trips with toddlers is how ridiculous it is. Gone are the days of swerving in front of a pump, getting gas, sprinting to the bathroom, washing hands, sprinting back to car, on the road again. 5 minutes tops.

    On this trip with a 3-year-old and a 19-month-old, every moment trying to herd them into a gas station was complete comedy. I adopted a wide-armed, wide-stance, crouch strategy to try to usher them to our destination. Inevitably Ivy would veer off, “Candy!” Sage would veer off, “Cup!” Ivy would go another direction. It would take us a full 10 minutes to get to the bathroom.

    (*Looking back on videos and pictures and… I actually can’t believe I took two girls that small to Six Flags. It was awesome!)

    I finally got Ivy and Sage filed into the stall with me. I checked if Ivy needed to go and begged the girls not to touch anything. Before I could clean the toilet seat that was covered in pee Sage slapped both hands down on it. While I tried to manage Sage, I asked Ivy again to please not touch anything and like a fly to honey she slowly started moving her water bottle to the toilet seat.

    “No!” I yelled.

    Her water bottle gently touched the toilet seat.

    Ivy explained that she tried to tell Pria (the name of her water bottle at the time) not to touch, but Pria wanted to give it a kiss.

    Face. Palm.

    The seat was cleaned, bathroom was used, hands were thoroughly washed, cup was sanitized (it was just the bottom that touched, get over it), and we were off! Just kidding. At least 20 minutes to decide what treat they wanted, getting it, purchasing, reloading into the car. And we were off!

    Every stop was like this. This plus the van issues are why a 6 hour drive turned into 10.

    Another funny moment was when we officially crossed into California. I excitedly told the girls we made it to California (partially in disbelief that we got that far). Ivy looked out the window and said, “California looks like a lot of dirt.”

    We made it into the hotel like thieves under the cover of night. I set up the pack and play for Sage to sleep in. Ivy laid next to the pack and play and had to scrape her fingers across the material until I asked her to stop… a dozen times.

    I was organizing stuff in the room. I was in the bathroom and I hear Ivy scream at the top of her lungs (really, the top of her lungs) “NO SAGEYYYYY!!!!!!!”

    I got into bed and wrote these highlights at 12:11am before falling asleep. Onto day 2.

    Day 2. Beach. 7:15am-9:15pm.

    We woke up and Ivy, Sage, and I got ready in the dark to avoid waking Arielle and Garrick who arrived at 1 in the morning. Little did they know, I had just fallen asleep myself. Sage woke up first. I got her out of bed and started changing her and getting her ready. Ivy woke up and laid peacefully in bed. I laid next to her, gave her a kiss, and asked if she wanted breakfast. She got up. Ivy LOVES hotel breakfast.

    Things have a tendency to not be wherever they were left. I suspect it’s due to Sage’s habit of moving anything she can get her hands on to anywhere else. This made getting ready in the morning more difficult.

    Breakfast. I ask Ivy to save us a table. She refuses. I don’t try with Sage as I know she won’t leave my side. I feel like Mother Duck. Ivy keeps asking for a doughnut later. Takes me forever to realize she’s talking about bagels. Ivy dumps a cup of cranberry juice all over the bench and floor. I think it had something to do with Sage but it’s hard to decipher exactly how the cause and effect came to be.

    Sage eats like normal – a ton. I’m still searching for the 8 sausage links Ivy apparently ate because I’m struggling to believe she ate them all.

    On the Ivy eating note, she took this Six Flags trip seriously. We always tell her to eat so she can get big and strong for Six Flags. It’s like she realized she’s been slacking off in the gym and now her max out day has arrived. She was trying to make up time. She ate her entire burger on the drive to California and now this breakfast of almost a dozen sausage links along with other food and has been snacking and eating nonstop. This is a girl I haven’t seen finish a plate in a year.

    We go back to the room and wake up Arielle and Garrick. Ivy is excited to see them. Sage is so shy. She won’t leave my side. We go to the beach.

    Beach – Ivy refuses to go near the water, Sage refuses to leave my side for fear that Garrick or Arielle will scoop her up and she’ll never see me again. We build sandcastles.

    Oh, the first time the water hit Sage’s feet she had the craziest reaction. It was like her whole body shut down. Her legs buckled and she started to trust fall. It was the craziest thing. I caught her.

    Garrick and Arielle went to get food. The girls and I hung out, but it was cold, and Ivy and Sage were hungry and cold and tired and I only had 2 arms. This led to an epic meltdown. We were moments away from an equally epic, comfortable cozy nap with both girls in my lap laying in a tube when it all fell apart.

    It all started to settle down when I made Ivy a sandwich. Ivy threw Sage’s sandwich in the sand. I gave Sage Ivy’s sandwich. Meltdown continued. Packed up and left. Went to the hotel and got in the hot tub and pool. Sage loved splashing her feet in the hot tub. Everything was awesome until Ivy pushed Sage to the ground.

    We went back to the room and had a great shower that audibled into a bath because a shower for 3 wasn’t working. Bath went surprisingly well despite Sage getting the bar of soap, playing with it, then rubbing her eyes.

    We got out of the tub. Meltdowns ensued. Not uncommon when girls are tired and cold. Add hungry and it’s all over. Garrick and Arielle’s friend Jacob who was also staying in the room is locked out and knocking. Sage, Ivy, and I are naked and I’m chasing them trying to do lotion and clothes. They’re both screaming. I get them both into bottoms and let Jacob in. He seems like he doesn’t want to be there. I can’t blame him.

    Ivy, Sage, and I go to dinner at Denny’s because it’s across the street and convenience tops any other consideration. It’s approaching 6 o’clock and Sage hasn’t napped. She will expire at any moment. Our time is short.

    (*This is where my notes from back during the actual trip end. The rest I will have to go off memory. Never fear, we have lots of pictures to fill in the gaps. But this will be more of a summary).

    What I remember about Denny’s was Ivy and Sage getting their food a full 15 minutes before me. This led to them being long done with their food by the time I started trying to eat. I let Ivy run amock around the basically empty restaurant with no guilt. Hopefully they learned a valuable lesson about serving two toddlers food 15 minutes before the single adult.

    The pictures below indicate I had plenty of time to take pictures before my food came.

    This picture was taken of Sage before I looked away for 4 seconds and turned back to ketchup being on her face, arms, chair, and table.

    Needless to say (just look at Ivy’s face in above picture) we went back to the hotel and crashed. Well, sometime around 9:15pm.

    (*EDIT 4/22/2026 – I found old notes from this trip, so I’m going to insert them here, taking us to Six Flags):

    The girls are amazing at Denny’s. Ivy orders mac n cheese. I make the mistake of ordering Sage chicken strips because it quickly becomes obvious she wants mac n cheese. You can see how that’s a problem. Luckily she loved the hashbrown side and Ivy was being so great and shared her mac n cheese with Sage. We had to get a third kids menu with crayon because Ivy said hers was for me. My food comes 5 minutes after Sage and Ivy’s. This is a problem because Ivy is done eating by the time my food arrives and is still hot. Ivy has a lot of time to kill. She starts roaming Denny’s – moving chairs, trashcans, table top arrangements. I let her because Denny’s started this chain of events with an unintelligent order of food deliver. I finally get to look down at my food and focus on it for 10 seconds, take a bite, enjoy it. I look up. In those ten seconds Sage has covered both her hands, arms, face, table, and is working on the arms of her booster seat with ketchup. Maybe it was 15 seconds. Sorry Denny’s. 

    We pay the check and leave. Usually I try to tidy up a little before leaving a restaurant in complete shambles. Our server says not to worry about it and I decide in this case to take her advice. We leave which usually entails vice gripping Sage’s hand so she doesn’t run in the street. Ivy stays right by my side because she’s a good girl. 

    Before going to the hotel we stop at the van to get some stuff. I’m leaning in pulling stuff out and keeping Sage between my legs so she doesn’t run into the street. I turn around after 30 seconds and Ivy is gone. I freak out. I run around the van and she’s on the other side. I grab her and bring her over to Sage. I kneel down and tell her I was worried because I didn’t know where she was and we were near the street and that she can’t do that when we’re by the street. She looks back at me and has a serious look on her face and is (actually) listening. She says “Sorry Daddy” and holds my pocket (my hands are full) the whole way back to the hotel without me having to ask.  

    We get back to the hotel. I expect Sage to go straight to bed but it’s Ivy that seems tired and lies in a bed and watches a show. Sage meanwhile sprints back and forth in the room for 40 minutes straight. She only stops to try to steal Ivy’s water bottle, or whatever else will infuriate Ivy. I get everything ready for Six Flags next day while Sage sprints a marathon and eats Teddy Grahams while Ivy relaxes.  

    I have to leave the room multiple times for water, something in the car, something else in the car. I always bring Sage because I’ve learned leaving the two girls alone always results in Sage crying when I get back. The third time I approach the door I hear Ivy yelling. Oh no. I open the door quickly. From the bed she’s saying “Hey Dad” at the top of her lungs because she wants to ask me if she can have some M&Ms. And here I was panicking. 

    Sage finally has her meltdown because I make her come back in the room. Sage gets changed and put in bed. She goes from an hour straight of running around to lying right down – in a room with multiple TVs and lights on – and goes to sleep. She’s asleep before her head hits the pillow. I know she’s tired because after I turn off the lights Ivy proceeds to get my reading light and try to flash it in Sage’s eyes. When I take it and put away I turn back around to Ivy in the pack n play on top of Sage. I yank Ivy out and Sage sleeps like nothing happened.  

    Long frustrated explanation of why I hated the water she got from Denny’s which turned into the only water she’d use for the night. She stares at me with intense focus. When I set aside that cursed water bottle and give her the water bottle she always has in bed because it doesn’t leak she proceeds to show me a dozen times how it doesn’t leak. 15 minutes after quietly lying peacefully next to me, she abruptly sits up and says “Daddy, it leaks” and proceeds to try multiple demonstrations showing it leaks. It doesn’t leak but I tell her fine we’ll put it away and take it from her. She says no she wants it and I say fine it doesn’t leak anyway and give it back to her. She lies back down with her water bottle.  

    Second straight day I was unable to quietly meditate for 10 minutes until they were both asleep. That’s 10 minutes. Think about that. Not one uninterrupted 10 minute segment in 48 hours. It’s nonstop. The irony is I need the meditation to refill my battery of patience but I can’t get that amount of time to even refill.  

    Ivy just wants to be by me. I make a comment about how maybe it’s just time to turn off all the lights and go to bed and Ivy says, “Yeah let’s go to bed I sleep with you.” Oh. She’s really tired. And oh, she just wants to be with me.  

    I know in day two I highlighted a lot of the lowlights. The meltdowns, tears, frustrations, lost tempers, screaming, messes, and challenges are all intermixed with I love yous and I’m so happy to be here with you and I’m so happy for this time we have together. There was so much of that too. But this is the real report. All the good, bad, and ugly of it. 

    All the frustrations but then I type this with Ivy cuddled up to my arm and Sage dead asleep to our left. I love these little girls so much it’s almost unfathomable.  

    I went back and added the sweet moments to balance out the frustrating ones. (*END OF INSERTED NOTES)

    The next day was the whole reason we were there. Six Flags! I don’t have any notes from the day. But I know it was filled with a million fun moments, funny comments from Ivy and Sage, and lots of laughs.

    We love Six Flags.

    Mom wasn’t there, so, uh, this happened 🙂

    They loved it.

    And it ended like this:

    What a trip.

  • Parenting is Hard and Rewarding: Polar Express

    Parenting is Hard and Rewarding: Polar Express

    We took the girls to Williams for the Polar Express. If you live in Las Vegas or Phoenix, this is a must-do activity if you have children under the age ~9.

    This was Ivy’s third time and Sage’s second time. This trip was for Ivy’s fifth birthday.

    We came into Williams on a Friday. We arrived at the hotel 30 minutes before we were able to check in. So we hung out in the hotel lobby, walking around, writing to Santa, and drinking hot chocolate. We got into our room around 3:00pm, got settled, and started thinking about dinner.

    We went to a restaurant in town then visited the shops. The girls did an awesome job and had a lot of fun.

    We got back to the hotel around 6:15pm.

    Ivy and Sage were setup together on the pull out couch. We put on Bluey and let them watch.

    I’ll recap the next four hours in one word: chaos.

    I don’t want to give all the details. Just know things were not going well. Bedtime is hard.

    Things culminated in me doing something I regretted to Sage. Afterwards, she was lying down on the bed, stoic, sad, unmoving.

    This balance being a dad who is loving, patient, caring, kind, and understanding but also enforcing rules and having a strict expectation for behavior is the most difficult thing to balance.

    I tried to apologize to Sage. I tried to comfort her and tell her I loved her and she was nonresponsive. That is very unlike Sage.

    I proceeded to get a bottle for Wren who was crying.

    Amidst balancing Wren and heating a bottle in the bathroom I heard noise in the hotel room and returned to find Ivy bouncing up and down on the bed, inches from Sage’s head. It was 11pm.

    I lost it.

    I smacked the bed and told her to lie down. I smacked the bed two more times to make sure my point got across. It was loud. Ivy cowered. Ivy cried. I think I woke up Sage.

    I started lecturing Ivy about how she was getting too old for such behavior and she needed to do better. Ivy was crying and saying I owed her an apology over and over. I told Ivy I did not owe her an apology. I looked at Sage, who was now sitting up, and said, “I owe Sage an apology.” Sage gave me a small smile.

    Those moments are so crazy. Why can’t we all be like this?

    “Become as little children” (Matthew 18:3).

    Moments ago she couldn’t look at me. Now she was smiling at me, the cutest, sweetest, most innocent and loving smile.

    I came back to Ivy.

    I started to tell her that we had all not been doing a great job lately. I told her I could be better, Mom could be better, Sage could be better, Wren could be better, and Ivy could be better. I told Ivy that she was my big girl and she had to do better. I then told Ivy she wasn’t perfect. I started to explain that I didn’t expect her to be perfect. I just expected her to do her best. Before I could elaborate, she latched onto that statement that she wasn’t perfect. She started repeating over and over, replacing “you owe me an apology” with “I am perfect.”

    I spoke very intentionally and clearly to Ivy. I reiterated that she wasn’t perfect. She got more upset. But then I told her, “I AM NOT PERFECT.” This made her pause. I told her I was not perfect and I made many mistakes. I told her I wanted to be a good dad and sometimes it was really hard. I told her we all needed to do better. I started to cry.

    I was sitting on the bed near Ivy. Ivy came out from behind her covers and knelt beside me. She wrapped her arms around me, hugged me tight, and said something I hope I never forget.

    She said, “Dad, you are perfect. You’re the best daddy in the whole world.”

    This took my crying to sob levels. Ivy started to cry. But not like she had been, not 5-year-old tantrum or normal crying. She was really crying. She hugged my neck and held onto me and she cried on my shoulder.

    I looked Ivy in the eyes and I told her thank you for what she said.

    She looked back at me and told me she loved me.

    How do we deserve these children?

    I talked more to Ivy about how we all needed to be better and that tomorrow I was going to try to be perfect. She said she was going to be perfect too.

    We went to bed. After all that, as if exhausted from a prize fight, all the girls immediately went to bed.

    The next morning they all woke up like we didn’t just go 10 rounds the night before.

    Children are amazing. Children are special.

    Sage immediately came and started bouncing on me first thing in the morning.

    Throughout that whole day, Ivy did so good. She was kind to her sisters. She was patient, helpful, and mature. She helped her cousins. She was nearly perfect. Throughout the day she would ask me, “Dad, am I being perfect?”

    Yes, I told her. She was.

    I’ve thought a lot about that night since. Do I regret losing my cool? I don’t know. As parents, we want to be awesome, patient, kind all the time. But sometimes, I think a child needs to see you hit a bed. Sometimes kids need to see that we get angry as parents too.

    Would I have had that special moment with Ivy if she hadn’t seen me lose my cool? Would she have had the desire to be “perfect” the next day?

    After losing my cool, it was extra important to be calm and show them extra love (D&C 121:43). This parenting thing is difficult. I’m trying every day to be “perfect.” I’m falling short every day. But I’m grateful for the example of these children. How quickly they forgive, move on, love so willingly and so openly. I hope I can be more like them.

    Except during bedtime.

  • Eternal Families, Children, and The Best Part of Me Was Always You

    Eternal Families, Children, and The Best Part of Me Was Always You

    *Originally written 4/19/2022, edited for posting in 2025.

    I was having a discussion with my mom a frew years ago about the trend in China of younger people not wanting to have children. We talked about this trend spreading through society. This trend of young people wanting to enjoy travelling, free time, more financial freedom, and therefore, choosing to not start families or have children.

    I watched an episode of a show recently. In the show, there is an extremely wealthy and powerful couple. They put off having children. The wife has gotten older and it may be too later for her to have children, but she’s thinking about children. She has a conversation with her husband. In the conversation she says, “Why have we built all this, what is it for?” And he replies, “It’s for us, we built it for ourselves.” She responds, “But if one of us dies…”

    She hit on something there. If you only build in this life for yourself, and if at some point you die, what did you really build it for?

    Back to that conversation with my mom years ago, we talked about how this is a sad level of selfishness spreading. How much can I travel, how much freedom can I have, how much money can I have for myself, with children being only a burden that take these things away from us. Now, of course, there are those who can’t have children and don’t have a choice. This doesn’t apply to someone in that situation at all. I’m talking about all the people my age that have decided a child isn’t worth their time, because their life is more important.

    Until you give your life for another, you never truly understand your capacity to love. Until you open yourself up to the love and selfless life that is caring for a child, “selfless” is just an adjective.

    I was on a long road trip with Beth and Ivy and so I was sitting in the back seat to give Ivy company. This was before Sage and Wren entered our lives. A song started playing. I was leaning over, staring right at Ivy. The lyrics of this song are meant to describe the heartache of a breakup. But as I listened to the words and applied them to the love I felt for my daughter whom I was staring at, the lyrics took on a whole new, eternal, and powerful meaning to me. For those words to take on the meaning they did, I had to apply them in a dark and sad way. I imagined what would happen if I ever lost Ivy (tears come to my eyes as I type those words). Bear with me. The topic will not stay sad and morbid.

    The lyrics were from a song called Breakeven by The Script:

    I’m still alive but I’m barely breathing
    Just prayin’ to a God that I don’t believe in
    ‘Cause I got time while she got freedom
    ‘Cause when a heart breaks no it don’t break even

    Her best days will be some of my worst

    While I’m wide awake she’s no trouble sleeping

    ‘Cause when a heart breaks no it don’t break even, even, no

    What am I supposed to do when the best part of me was always you? And
    What am I supposed to say when I’m all choked up and you’re OK?
    I’m falling to pieces, yeah
    I’m falling to pieces

    They say bad things happen for a reason
    But no wise words gonna stop the bleeding
    ‘Cause she’s moved on while I’m still grieving
    And when a heart breaks no it don’t break even, even, no

    And what am I going to do when the best part of me was always you? And
    What am I supposed to say when I’m all choked up and you’re OK?
    I’m falling to pieces, yeah
    I’m falling to pieces, yeah
    I’m falling to pieces
    (One still in love while the other one’s leaving)
    I’m falling to pieces
    (‘Cause when a heart breaks no it don’t break even)

    What am I gonna do when the best part of me was always you? And
    What am I suppose to say when I’m all choked up and you’re OK?
    (Oh glad you’re okay now)
    I’m falling to pieces yeah
    I’m falling to pieces (oh, I’m falling, falling) yeah
    I’m falling to pieces
    (One still in love while the other one’s leaving)
    I’m falling to pieces
    (‘Cause when a heart breaks no it don’t break even)

    While preparing to post this, Wren crawled to my chair and pulled herself to stand at my feet. I decided to experiment if this song is still emotional when considered in this twisted context I’ve applied to it. Yup, still tears. I only let myself brush the very edge of the surface of this hypothetical.

    I can’t imagine the pain of losing a child. I can not. “What am I going to do when the best part of me was always you?”

    I think the most difficult thing that could happen in this life is losing a child and my heart breaks at the mere thought of it. I feel for anyone that has to endure that pain. Just reading those lyrics, considering what I was writing 3.5 years ago, my chest started to ache at the thought. What I wrote here applies more than ever now that I have 3 daughters who I love more than life itself.

    “I’m still alive but I’m barely breathing.”

    “Just praying to a God that I don’t believe in.” This would ever happen to me. But I can see how it would for so many in this world. Which makes me sad. And is why I’m writing this.

    “’Cause I got time while she got freedom” – I’m stuck in time while she would be free.

    “Her best days will be some of my worst” – The best days for our loved ones, their return home, to heaven, is often the worst days for those left behind.

    “While I’m wide awake she’s no trouble sleeping”

    “They say bad things happen for a reason
    But no wise words gonna stop the bleeding
    ‘Cause she’s moved on while I’m still grieving
    And when a heart breaks no it don’t break even, even, no

    And what am I going to do when the best part of me was always you? And
    What am I supposed to say when I’m all choked up and you’re OK?
    I’m falling to pieces, yeah.

    This discussion with my mom, that moment with Ivy in the car, and these thoughts originally happened over Easter weekend three years ago.

    Without the resurection, the lyrics of this song would be perfectly true. It would be impossible to go on from that sort of tragedy. But the resurection is real. Jesus Christ did conquer death. I know that Jesus Christ was resurected and that myself and my family will be resurected.

    I can’t believe that I will ever be without Ivy, Sage, Wren, and Beth for too long a period of time. This life is but a blink in eternity. I look at them, and the love I have for each of them, I know the God I love would not allow this level of love in my heart, and then not allow me to be with them forever. It makes me sad that much of Christianity does not have the truth restored through Christ’s true gospel that families can be together forever. I know that Ivy will be mine for eternity. I know that Sage will be mine for eternity. I know that Wren will be mine for eternity. When I’m 100 and Ivy is 70, she will still be my daughter. When I leave this world and she stays, she will still be my daughter. When we both have left this life, she will still be my daughter.

    To all those who might be reading this, and I’ve drudged up memories and feelings you have tried to suppress, to all those thinking about the loved one you so desperately miss now, my message to you is of hope. 

    I know that Christ suffered all of my sins so that I could be forgiven for them and overcome death through His blood and grace. I know that Christ conquered death and was resurrected, so that my family and I can be resurrected. I know that we will live together again as a family unit, because of what He did for me. This is why (though I always fall short) I’ve tried so hard to give everything to Him – my heart, my time, my love, my devotion, my life – because He already gave me everything that means anything. 

    I say with any authority I can muster, with full confidence and faith in the Plan of God: You will see your loved ones again. The ones that make you fall to pieces, the ones that just thinking about choke you up, the ones that make you feel alive but like you’re barely breathing, the ones you don’t know if you can live without because they were the best part of you: You will see them again.

    I am thankful for these truths that have been restored. I’m grateful to know that whatever happens in this life or the next, Ivy, Sage, and Wren will be mine, and I will be theirs. Forever. This goes for Beth also. Because of Jesus Christ we will be together forever. And my love for Him is inexpressable when I consider what He’s done for me.

  • Six Flags Trip Report 6/13/2025

    Six Flags Trip Report 6/13/2025

    Ivy just had her fourth Six Flags trip and Sage her third. If we’re keeping score, that’s four trips in four years (of age) for Ivy and three trips in two years for Sage. We’re on track.

    To some people Six Flags is just a theme park. To a Quackenbush Six Flags is ground zero for formative experiences. Ground zero is an adequate analogy. Only the strong survive these trips.

    One interesting dynamic that developed this trip was Sage voicing her opinion. Last time we went to Six Flags, Sage was still young enough that she just went with the flow and/or whatever Ivy wanted to do. This was the first trip where I had to balance the demands of a toddler and a four-year-old preteen. But we’ll get to that.

    If you read 2023’s trip report you know how early we usually leave for these trips. This time we drove straight to the beach on Friday and went to the park early on Saturday.

    Beth’s sister Eve came to Arizona from Utah and joined us on the trip to California. Her coming along was a lot of help. For once Beth and I weren’t outnumbered.

    Beth and Eve didn’t want to go to the beach, so they dropped us off on Friday and went and did I don’t know what with Wren.

    Sage is now at the age where she has a pure love and infatuation with the beach, particularly with sand. She ate a borderline unsafe amount of sand.

    The girls both came out of their shells on this beach trip. They even went in the water! Ivy was fully submerged, not completely by choice. She and Sage were playing on the edge of the water, and I guess she fell in. She was really upset until I told her how awesome she was and then she brightened up.

    We played a lot of Spikeball and swam in the ocean. Good beach trip.

    That night baby Wren and baby Fulton got to meet for the first time at our favorite California trip Mexican restaurant, Don Cucos.

    But the next day was Six Flags!

    One of the parts of these California trips that is most memorable to Ivy is the hotel breakfast. Ivy LOVES the hotel breakfast. If you ask her about it, she’ll tell you they have great juice (we don’t drink juice at home).

    We had breakfast and since we were already in town and not driving straight from Arizona to Six Flags, we were able to get to the gates ahead of the 10:30am opening. It was the first time we’d ever used the “VIP entrance” feature of our tickets. We got through the gates and got to line up at a rope ahead of general admission. We were headed towards rides at 10:22am. This gave us a big head start on any crowds. We were able to ride 10 rides in our first 30 minutes inside the park.

    The plan was to go ~3 adult rides and then ~3 kid rides but since there were no lines, we got carried away with the power.

    In the meantime, the kids got to meet Flash and see the Batmobile.

    Ivy hit a milestone since our last trip. She was now 42” in height, opening up a bunch of new rides for her. The first new ride Ivy got to try is called Teen Titans Turbo Spin.

    I was a little nervous about this first of 42” rides. Turbo Spin is a carnival style ride where you stand against a wall and spin at a high speed. Ivy loved it.

    We were very disappointed that a ride called Battle for Metropolis was closed. That was another that Ivy would have been able to ride. It’s one of those rides where you slowly travel around in a cart with a fake laser zapper shooting bad guys.

    There was another ride we had never before worked into the rotation. It was called Jet Stream, and it had no height requirement. It was a water ride that the entire family got to ride. Ivy, Sage, and all the little ones enjoyed it.

    The final new ride that was an addition for Ivy was Roaring Rapids:

    This was by far the longest line we waited in. It was so long Ivy almost boycotted. When we were very near to getting on the ride, she started loudly casting her vote for leaving.

    While Ivy waited in line at Roaring Rapids, the other young kids – Sage, her cousin Kaia, and her cousin Fulton – all went to Bugs Bunny World.

    We finally got on Roaring Rapids. Ivy’s excitement quickly turned into a freak out when the first splash hit her. Roaring Rapids can have that effect on you. She freaked out for most of it and continued to freak out as we got off. She was mad that she was wet. I reminded her how hot it was outside and pointed to some people sitting in the shade fanning each other. I asked her if she thought she was more comfortable and cool and wet than those people. Her mood quickly turned as she was excited to admit she felt cool and wet.

    Finally we got to Bugs Bunny World. I took Ivy on a couple of her favorites – the ball house, the School Bus, and Taz’s Trucking Co – before we found Sage and her cousin Kaia.

    We spent a couple hours riding everything the girls wanted to ride. As I mentioned, with Sage developing a strong opinion on what ride she wanted, there was a lot of deal-making and compromising. Kaia was only with us a couple rides so after that future ride decisions became a sister battle.

    Six Flags is where you grow. When it was just Ivy, Sage, and I, we went and rode a favorite, just for the novelty of it: the Tweedy Bird Cages (See Ivy’s trip in 2023 for picture proof of Ivy getting Grandpa into a bird cage). I sent Ivy and Sage in to ride together. At first they were going to ride in separate cages. But as they approached and the fear set in, they joined their courage together and rode in one cage. They both came off so happy.

    Next to the bird cages was a ride called Road Runner Express. We hadn’t tried that one before. I knew it was a kid roller coaster, potentially on the “extreme” side (for Ivy and Sage). We went up to the nonexistent line. This was a ride I would have to sit with Sage on, leaving Ivy alone. The teenage ride operator seemed sympathetic to this issue so he said if the three of us could fit in one cart, we could ride together. I got Sage in, I climbed in, but when I tried to get Ivy to join us, she refused. She didn’t want to ride. The ride operator said she couldn’t stand in the ride area, so she had to leave the platform, go through the gate, and go down the stairs to watch. I watched anxiously as Ivy left the gate. My heart broke. She was resigned. She was trying not to seem upset, but she was disappointed.

    Is this how it is being a parent?

    Seeing the subtle growth, and sadness, and disappointment and having to watch and feeling your heart break for your sweet daughter?

    I dread more of these moments as my kids grow. I guess it’s life.

    Sage and I rode the ride. Sage was terrified, but she did it. We got off and found Ivy sitting on the bench. She looked so big. I hardly recognized her, sitting by herself, I assume thinking about how Sage and I just rode the roller coaster and she didn’t. I asked if she wanted to ride the ride and she said no. We moved on.

    We went to the merry go round.

    Next to the merry go round was a ride called Speedy Gonzales Hot Rod Racers:

    Ivy enjoyed this ride last time we were at Six Flags, despite it being on the extreme side for her.

    This would be another ride that I HAD to ride with Sage, but Ivy was tall enough to ride alone. I explained this to Ivy as best as I could. It would be another situation like the last roller coaster that Ivy didn’t want to ride alone. As Sage and I got in our seats, Ivy started to panic. She didn’t want to be alone. I calmly explained to her that I had to be with Sage because she was too little but that Ivy was my big girl and she could ride behind us, but she’d have to be alone.

    I thought she was going to leave again.

    I was prepared to collapse into a puddle of sad dad, watching my daughter be disappointed yet again.

    But then I saw a shift in Ivy’s eyes. From my perspective, I think she remembered what just happened at that last ride, and she didn’t want it to happen again. “Defiantly” seems like a dramatic word to describe how she approached her roller coaster cart, but I can’t find a more adequate word. She got into her seat and got buckled in. I looked behind us to watch her.

    I was proud.

    Ivy rode that roller coaster by herself. When it stopped, the ride operator gave the group an option to go a second time. I looked back at Ivy. She was grinning from ear to ear yelling, “Again! Again!”

    After our second time around, we got off the ride and Ivy wanted to ride again. Sage wanted to go back to the merry go round. I told Ivy we could come back to ride again after the merry go round. The merry go round was right by Speedy Gonzales. We got in line for the merry go round and Ivy looked longingly over at Speedy Gonzales.

    Ivy looked at Speedy Gonzales, and back at me, and back at Speedy Gonzales.

    Then she did something completely unexpected. Ivy proposed that she go to Speedy Gonzales while Sage and I rode the merry go round. I told her that would be okay. I watched as she walked towards Speedy Gonzales. At the ramp up, I saw her confidence waver. She stopped. She never looked back at me, but she stopped. Then she ran up the ramp. I watched her stand in line and wait for her turn.

    It may seem like a small thing to some. But Ivy is very tentative, very cautious, she usually won’t go out of our sight. There she was, waiting in line to ride a roller coaster by herself.

    This made me think about something. Bad things happen. Ivy not riding that first roller coaster while Sage and I went made me so sad to watch. If I could have changed it, I probably would have. If I could have inserted the courage into Ivy’s little soul by force of will, I don’t think I could have resisted. But then Ivy wouldn’t have learned and grew. She grew in that moment of disappointment.

    God sees bad things happen and He doesn’t change it. If He did, we couldn’t grow. If He changed things, He would be defeating the purpose of us coming to earth. You go to Six Flags to be brave, to be disappointed, and to scream your heart out: The same reason we came to earth.

    If I changed what happened at that first roller coaster then Ivy wouldn’t have learned something important about herself, about being brave, about what she is capable of.

    Anyways, back to Six Flags. We finished the night, shutting the park down at 9:00pm, on Crazanity. My dad potentially got hit by a bat and we talked to security and medical staff to make sure all was well. No big deal.

    I think the next day was Father’s Day.

    We had lunch at a pier before heading back to Arizona while my family went to the beach.

    Six Flags and beach June 2025 trip: 10/10.

  • Parenting Without Faith

    Parenting Without Faith

    Moments where you feel like a good parent doing good things sometimes don’t come often enough. And then one comes that is so impactful it brings you to tears.

    Ivy claimed to be sick this morning. I thought she was making it up until I saw her throw up with my own eyes.

    So she stayed home from school. Without any guidance or prompt, she went upstairs on her own and laid down in her bed. This is very un-Ivy like. She was definitely sick.

    I got a show setup on a laptop for her so she could lay in bed and relax. I brought it to her, and she didn’t want it, she just wanted to rest. Ivy was definitely sick.

    An hour later she came to my room and said she did want a show. We walked back to her room, and I started to get it setup. She said she needed to throw up and inexplicably walked away from her throw up bucket and passed her bathroom down the hall to my bathroom.

    Luckily, she made it in time.

    She knelt in front of the toilet. She looked so big, her little four-year-old body, already knowing how to properly throw up in a toilet. Any parent can relate to and feel the pain of watching their child throw up.

    I held her hair and rubbed her back.

    Ivy stood up.

    She said, through little sobs and stutters as she caught her breath, “Daddy, I ask Jesus in my bed to help me. Will you pray for me at my bed? I asked Jesus to help me stop throwing up.”

    Those words don’t fully capture it. I cannot properly put in words the sweetness, the tenderness, the humility, the vulnerability, the faith, the innocence of what was coming out of Ivy’s mouth. What I put above was roughly what she said. But it was so much more. It was soft, it was gentle, it was pleading.

    This pleading was not with adultlike “this needs to get done” energy, but with patient understanding. This request came with complete innocence. Coming from your four-year-old who is normally all chaotic, joyful energy, these calm, sweet moments can be so jarring.

    I explained to Ivy that Jesus might help her stop throwing up, but I promised her that even if she didn’t stop throwing up, He would be with her and help her. I told Ivy, “You know when Jesus died for you?” She nodded, as this is something we talk about often. “When He died for you, He felt what you just felt, that hurt and pain and sickness of throwing up, He felt it. So even if you throw up more, He is with you.”

    Ivy said, “Even when I get big owies, He feels it.”

    I took Ivy back to her room. I put a show on for her to watch. She lay in bed.

    How do parents parent without faith?

    This parenting thing is hard enough. How could I explain to Ivy that she’s throwing up and in pain and I don’t know why and there’s nothing I can do about it?

    In the last couple weeks, my knee has been healed, my daughter with potential hip dysplasia has been blessed (what happens is yet to be seen), and my Ivy has known that even though she’s sick, Jesus is with her and helping her and there’s a reason for it.

    How do you raise kids without this?

    I don’t know.

    The last thing Ivy said during our conversation at the toilet, “Jesus is God, that is why I ask Him for help.”

    Jesus is our God. Heavenly Father is our Father. They watch over us. As I sit here with tears in my eyes, my sweet daughter laying in bed suffering with a little tummy ache, writing this out, I’m reminded that Jesus is God. And I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t know that. It would be so hopeless otherwise.

    He died for us, and He knows our pain.

    I wish we could all have the faith of a 4-year-old.