Some kids idolize Saquon Barkley.  For others, that person is Taylor Swift.  For many, it’s Spidey or Batman.

This year, my 4-year old son’s hero was Mr. Derwin – the builder who did our home renovation.

Now, whenever Jack builds with his Magnatiles, tinkers with his tools, or does “hard work, yard work” he proudly claims, “I’m a [con]‘struction guy like Mr. Derwin.”

I think Jack chose the right guy to look up to.  Mr. Derwin is pretty awesome- both as a builder and as a person.   And whether Jack ends up becoming a ‘struction guy, or doing something entirely different with his life, there are three things that I hope Jack learns from his hero:

1.  Pursue something you’re great at

Derwin was born to be a builder.  He sees, designs, and constructs things with a mastery, pace, and attention to detail that’s difficult for a novice to fathom.  He embraces, loves, and takes great pride in every step of the process -maintaining a high standard for himself and his entire team.  And while Derwin is one of the most humble guys I know, he has unwavering confidence in his craft.   And because of all that, he consistently produces great work.  I hope Jack can find that thing that he’s great at and pursue it to its fullest potential- just like Mr. Derwin. 

2. Own your problems

Over the course of a renovation, problems inevitably pop up- whether they come from a miscalculation in the initial design, a surprise hiding behind the existing walls, or a mistake by one of the subcontractors along the way.  It would have been easy to overlook or ignore the minor issues, but Derwin pays attention to the little details and speaks up when something is not right.  It would also be easy to make these issues someone else’s problem, but Derwin offers solutions and takes care of it himself.  As Jack grows up, he’ll make plenty of mistakes and he’ll also encounter problems that aren’t necessarily his fault. And I hope when he does, Jack speaks up, owns the responsibility, and finds a way to fix it – just like his buddy, Mr. Derwin.

3. Be a guy who people trust with the big things

Derwin knew how important this project was to us, and he didn’t take the responsibility lightly.  He took extra time, listened to our ideas, and always did what was in our best interest.  He proactively and transparently communicated any potential changes to costs and timelines to help us feel clear and comfortable throughout the process.  He transformed our vision into an even better reality.   Rather than taking short cuts or overcharging, Derwin was on a mission to create an experience that went far beyond our expectations.

As Jack grows up – I hope he can be a guy that people can lean on for their big decisions and turn to in their big moments.  Whether he’s a teammate, friend, family member, or professional something, I hope he’s a guy people can trust with the big things- like Mr. Derwin.

Mr. Derwin built a special place where we’ll get to continue raising our kids, hosting our friends and family, and enjoying everyday life.  And while he was building something special – he was setting a really awesome example for a young ‘struction guy along the way. 

This Thanksgiving, in addition to all the usual things I was thankful for (family, friends, health, etc.) –  I was especially thankful for Mr. Derwin.  Not only because of the job he did, but the way he did it. 

Now that I think about it, maybe I’d like to be a little more like Mr. Derwin when I grow up.

We just completed a 6-month home renovation. 

But I’m not writing this post to share before and after pictures of the kitchen remodel. 

This reflection is about moving our family of 5 (+2 cats) into my parents’ house…and living there from April to October.

This is an apology for cluttering their rooms, intruding on their routines, raiding their refrigerator/pantry, spreading our snotty nose germs, and possibly losing our security deposit. 

This is a thank you note for their support, hospitality, and very generous room & board.

Most of all, this is my way to capture the memory of a really stressful special time in our lives. 

While we’re all breathing a sigh of relief and looking forward to getting our own spaces back, I’m so grateful that we got to do this.

Because when the final trace of us is moved out, scrubbed down, and fixed up- I hope we look back on this experience and remember things like:

Charlie and Jack (and eventually Payson) sprinting upstairs at 7:30 every morning to jump into bed with Mimi.  Pop Pop made a rule that they couldn’t go into her room until the big hand pointed to the bottom of the clock– so they’d keep one eye on the time as they ate their breakfast, and when the clock struck half past the hour, they put spoons down and jumped out of their chairs like it was Christmas morning.

We’ll remember that same sprint to see Mimi when they got home from school and the same sprint to the garage whenever Mimi’s car pulled in the driveway.

We’ll miss the morning chirp from my dad. We started each day by trying to keep up with his breakfast banter while we simultaneously served our kids food, cleaned up their dishes, and got the wild banshees ready for school.

We’ll remember all the nights that the kids got to snuggle up and watch the Olympics with their grandparents.  And believe it or not, Mimi and Pop Pop were still bigger heros in their eyes than Simone Biles and Steph Curry.

And we’ll smile thinking about all the times that they would brush Mimi’s hair as they watched “Dancing with the Stars.” 

And when Mimi would paint Charlie and Jack’s nails- yes both of them- as they sang along to High School Musical.

And we’ll laugh about the kids nightly attempts to sneak out of bed so they didn’t miss a moment with their Mimi and Pop Pop….until fatigue finally caught up with them.

We’ll remember Payson’s first crawls and first steps and first words as she transitioned from the sweetest little baby to a loud, opinionated, giggly, and curious toddler.  And some will be sure to remember that Payson started saying “Pop Pop” before she said “Mama.”

We can’t forget Jack following Pop Pop around the yard with his own John Deere tractor and set of tools and the biggest smile on his face as they did “hard work, yard work” together. 

We’ll remember Charlie’s first few weeks of kindergarten…as we learned about her new friends and favorite subjects and activities…and the first weeks walking her to the bus stop…and the mornings when Jordan was traveling, but Mimi was there to do Charlie’s hair and get her dressed in something cute, so I didn’t send her to a new school looking like Kid Rock. 

We’ll think about how excited Charlie and Jack would get to just run to the store or go out for a treat with Mimi…you would’ve thought that CVS and McDonalds were Disney World!

I will cherish the opportunity we had to live with the best roommates ever who were always there to hit tennis balls, help with the kids, prepare meals, and whatever else was needed.   

We’ll remember pouring cocktails and scooping ice cream cones and watching so many of the big sporting events, news stories, and Presidential debates that we experienced in 2024. And we’ll be glad we got to do it with our go-to couple.

We’ll remember how lucky we were to lean on my parents for valuable guidance on a regular basis as we navigated our own parenting journey, this renovation project, and the ups and downs of adult life. 

And I won’t forget all the heavy furniture that Dad helped me move up and down stairs and in and out of rooms. I don’t know if he was just being a top notch father or just really eager for us to move back in, but we couldn’t have done it without you.

And more than anything, I’ll remember how much Diane Janiec stepped up as a mom, a Mimi, a host, and a support system throughout this entire experience…Mom- you fully embraced every opportunity to make us feel welcome, help us out, and make this a really special time in our lives.  You’re such an awesome role model for Jordan and I, and you truly bring life to life for my kiddos. We love you and you are without a doubt the 2024 MVP!

We’re not moving far.  We still share a property line and live next to each other for more than half of the year.  We’ll still see each other most days and do yard work side by side, play tennis together, send the kids their way, and share drinks and meals for many years to come.  But with life as short and unpredictable as it is, I’m so glad we got to share this unique extended time together.

I don’t know if we can ever pay you guys back (unless you live with us in 30 years), but I promise to take your example and pay it forward. 

And I think Charlie summed it up best when we were moving back into our house, and she said, “I’m so excited to have my own room…but I kinda don’t want to leave Mimi and Pop Pop’s house.” 

Same, Charlie. Same…

Don’t worry Mom & Dad. We’re officially out.

Dear Payson,

You’re gonna go far, kid.

You haven’t been around that long, but you’ve shown a few special qualities since Day 1 that I hope you’ll carry on throughout your life. 

Of course, you will constantly change as you grow, and we’ll find out so much more about you in the coming days and years.  

In the time I’ve started writing this, you’ve already transformed from a sweet baby into a feisty little troublemaker.  New teeth are poking through.  Your bald head has become mullet.  We’ve rapidly sized up all your clothes.  You’re now walking around in sneakers with beaming confidence and reckless curiosity. 

But no matter how big and grown up you get, I hope you act kinda like you did as a baby.  For example, I hope you:

Continue to be the person who smiles and waves to nearly everyone you see.  

I hope you’re always quick to giggle, dance, hug, and clap your hands.  Your first words were “Yayyy!” “Hiiiiii!”  And “Cheese!” I hope these continue to be some your favorite words as you continue to brighten up every room you’re in.

I hope you start every day with this level of joy and excitement.  May all your mornings begin with that big grin you have on your face when you wake up as you bounce and rattle the railing of your crib.  And although I don’t love when your siblings jump into the crib with you, I hope Charlie and Jack always go out of their way to join in on your fun.

I hope you stay well rested and continue to prioritize a good night of sleep. I hope you keep that knack for knowing when to be quiet and when to get loud and speak (or currently shriek) up for what you need. You’ve been the most quiet in the bunch so far, but there’s a reason we call you, “The Boss!”

I hope you remain patient, poised, and calm amidst chaos like you always have in this 3-ring-circus you were born into.  But at the same time, I hope you pick your spots when you see something you really want, and continue to go for it without fear or hesitation.  And when you inevitably get knocked down like you have hundreds of times already, I hope you continue to pick yourself up and keep moving. 

Maybe more than anything, as you become more and more independent, I hope you never stop loving your parents as much as you have since you were born…because I know we’ll keep loving you more and more every day. 

If you’re anything like your older sister, it won’t be long before you’re asking, “Hey Dad, what was I like as a baby?”  

And when that day comes, I hope to share this reflection with you and proudly say with tears in my eyes, “A lot like you are now.”

Having 3 little kids comes with challenges, but you’ve made it as easy as possible.  You’ve always embraced being along for the ride, and with each baby step along the way, you’ve made all of our rides so much better. It was a pretty amazing first year as we tearfully celebrated so many of your “firsts” and our “lasts” as parents.  And while it’s a little premature to say we saved the best for last…you’re making a pretty competitive case.

And I think you’re just getting started.  

Because if you keep these special qualities as you take on the world…you’ll do just fine, baby girl.

Love,

Dad

It was 9:30 pm on a warm summer night in Margate, New Jersey.

I’m sitting on the front porch of the Buckley family beach house with some of my best friends in the world.

Not too many years ago, this crew would’ve been gearing up for a late night out on the town.  But nowadays, we look more like a support group for exhausted parents.  

We had spent the entire day feeding, serving, dressing, sun screening, reapplying, carrying, diapering, pack-muling, shuttling, chasing, refereeing, deescalating, reprimanding, encouraging, entertaining, protecting, enjoying, loving, and cleaning up after 10 kids under 6 years old.   And that was all before the most challenging endeavor of the day…bed time!

Once the sun began to set, we listened to a continuous loop of crying babies, toddler tantrums, and 3/4 year old boys wrestling and shouting “Booty Butt” at the top of their lungs. 

Like an Olympic relay team, we’d take turns marching up and down the stairs trying to get the kiddos to calm down and go to sleep.  We pulled out all the tricks:  Gentle parenting, harsh whispers, desperate bribes, roommate switch ups, and so much more.  When things finally began to settle down, we all knew the quiet would only last for so long…because best case scenario, the cacophony would inevitably resume at 6 am the following morning. 

But as we sat there on the porch debriefing our day and questioning our abilities as parents, I was glad about one thing.  I love that I’ve got friends in low places. 

and by low places, I mean this joyful, special, and stressful stage of life that we’re in right now.

I’ve got a bunch of friends right here in the trenches with me as we’ve transitioned into a chapter where the start time of our social events has changed from 9 pm to 9 am and bottle service has taken on a whole new meaning.

I’m so grateful to have these friends in the low places where babies are crawling, crumbs are accumulating, and little people are looking up at us as they take in the world around them.   

Growing up with these friends, we’ve seen each other at our best and our worst.  And today, we’re still growing up together- seeing each other (and our families) at our best and our worst. 

We have that common understanding that we only have 50% of each other’s attention in a conversation.  The other 50% is on ummmm making sure ummm…hold on for a sec…”woah, Jack, get out of there!”

We have a parenting short-hand and an unwritten pledge that we’ll try our best to raise civilized children, but we won’t hold it against each other when one of our kids inevitably acts out or puts their dirty hand in the chip bowl or fruit salad.  

It’s reassuring to know that when I’m exhausted, stressed, and in disarray, I can look over at my buddy and know they’re going through the same thing. 

When I’m changing Payson’s diaper and Charlie is running towards the ocean and Jack is getting attacked by seagulls – it’s great to have a few extra sets of hands playing zone defense.   

It’s an honor to be Uncle Kev to my friends’ kids and a privilege to have unofficial “Aunts & Uncles” for my own kids. 

I love that we learn from each other, we encourage each other, and continue to have a positive influence on each other’s life…even if that influence can gradually lead to more kids and more expensive home renovation ideas. 

Maybe most of all, I love that our kids will grow up knowing the importance of surrounding themselves with good friends- and the importance of being a good friend to others…just like I learned by watching my parents and Jordan learned from hers.   

And I hope one day in the future, our kids get to raise their kids alongside their own group of best friends.  Maybe some of those friends will be the ones who they were just jumping over waves with, or swimming in the pool, looking for seashells, fighting over beach toys, and wrestling at bedtime with. 

This stage of life is messy and tiring, and it would be really challenging to do alone.  I get by with a little help from my friends.  And I’m so grateful for every one of them. 

One last thing…years ago, we would often make fun of my friend, Katie, when she used to openly dream of the day in which we would all grow up and have big families and raise our kids together…well guess what, Katie? We here! 

So pop in the chicken nuggets, throw on an episode of Bluey, pour a few glasses of wine, and I’ll grab some beers.  Your dream is our reality.  Let’s cheers to that!

A few weeks ago, I “GOT” to ride bikes with some of my favorite people.

Last Christmas, my father-in-law, Pop, rallied a few of us to sign up for the upcoming American Cancer Society’s Bike-A-Thon.

I’m not a big cyclist and didn’t see any room on the calendar to become one this year. So it seemed like an easy “No.”

But we were a few Holiday cocktails into the night, the ride wasn’t until June, and the peer pressure was laid on thick. Plus, Pop had completed the 66 mile trek in back to back years – as a senior citizen cancer survivor, so how could I say “No?” I guess I HAD to do it.

“Alright, count me in,” I said.

As Christmas time became the new year and winter eventually became spring, I back burnered the whole event in my mind.

Life was busy

I hadn’t trained

My bike was in the shed

The logistics of the entire day were complicated and unresolved.

I figured that I had plenty of time to get ready. After all, the Bike a Thon wasn’t until June 2nd.

That approach felt fine…until the calendar flipped to June and I was out of time to prepare. I went into race weekend with untrained legs, an untested bike, a ton of logistical loose ends, and a frustrated wife because of those loose ends. My procrastination had me feeling a bit stressed. I wondered, “Is this another example of something I’ve overcommitted to?”

As a result of this stress, if you asked me that Friday before the ride what my weekend plans were, I likely would have muttered something like, “I HAVE to go to Jersey to do this Bike-A-Thon thing..”

But after experiencing the ride, my perspective and my attitude completely changed.

Long story short, Jordan and Jimmy ended up figuring out the logistics. Matt and Jaci picked up our rider credentials in Philly. We packed the car for the weekend, loaded the bike rack, and worked with the event coordinators to move our starting point up from the Ben Franklin Bridge to a more reasonable 30 mile segment beginning in Hammonton. We gathered in Haddonfield at Jimmy’s house the night before the event for a night of laughs, stories, and quality time.

The morning of the ride, we made it to the starting point without any issues. We had ourselves a great workout. We enjoyed celebratory beers and tacos at the finish line festivities in Ventnor. Then, we caravanned over to Ocean City to meet the rest of the family for our after party on the bay.

Hard to beat a day like that! It was a special memory. And amidst all of the fun with family, I was reminded of an important lesson.

Somewhere along the blocked off lane of the AC expressway as we powered through the headwind towards the finish line, my brother-in-law Mikey turned and said: “How lucky are we that we GET to do this?”

This was a perspective Mikey’s mom had always instilled in him any time he was training for something or challenging himself.

“You don’t have to do this. You get to do this.”

And she was right. We didn’t HAVE to do this Bike-A-Thon.

We GOT to do this Bike-A-Thon.

We lost Mikey’s mom to cancer 8 years ago. Throughout the ride, we thought about how much she and Mrs. Bonder and Mr. Altano and our other loved ones that we’ve lost to cancer would’ve wanted to “Get” to be part of a day like this!

So those words, that outlook, and their spirit gave us the spark we needed to go pedal to the medal for the last few miles.

It was an honor to “get” to ride for these friends and family who would’ve loved to be part of this day.

It was inspiring to “get” to ride for the friends and family who are still fighting their own battle.

We “got” to work out, share laughs, crack beers, eat Mac and Mancos pizza, and jump in the bay with some of our favorite people.

We “got” to be part of a special memory. And our ring leader, Pop, tells us all the time that there’s no bigger privilege in life than that…even if it means sometimes we “have” to get our bike out of the shed and pedal a little farther than we’re used to.

Cancer sadly reminds us that we don’t get to do this stuff forever, so as long as we are young and healthy enough to “get” to do it- let’s do it!

And most important of all, I’m so lucky I GET to have this Biker Gang in my life including:

First and foremost, those who have passed but still shape the lessons we learn, who we are, and how we approach every day of this life we “get” to live.

Pop- for rallying the crew and getting us to do this. Can’t wait for the next one.

Jimmy- for your generous hospitality, leadership, bike pump, and quality time.

Jordan- for your love, forgiveness, and all of your expert transportation logistics when I dropped the ball.

Steve and Mikey- for riding with me and getting me to push the pace. For a couple of guys that don’t ride bikes often, we crushed it. Except for when that old lady toasted us on the AC Expressway.

Ryan, Matt, and Jaci- for making the trip up for the ride, so we all got to do it together. It was a blast hanging and celebrating with you.

Charlie and Jack- for being brave and jumping in the bay. I’m so glad I get to be your dad!

Jade, Casey, Kaitlyn, Luke, Lexi, and Cole for watching babies, ordering pizza, and driving cars so we got to ride!

Payson, Natalie, and Romee- for being good, adorable, easy babies so we got to extend the celebration without a fuss. Soon enough, you’ll get to do this the ride with us, so start training.

If you asked me before the ride, I might’ve said “I HAVE to do this Bike A Thon.”

If you ask me now, I’ll say, “ I got to ride bikes and enjoy a special memory with some of my favorite people. And I hope I get to do it again.”

What has changed in your mind from an “I have to” to an “I get to?”

I’d love to hear your story. Thank you, Mikey, for sharing yours.

***oh yeah…If you’d like to make a contribution to the American Cancer Society on behalf of our team, you can DONATE HERE