“Don’t blink” they said.

We heard it everywhere we went on our family vacation to Florida.   

I heard it from the guy sitting next to me on the plane as I rummaged through my carry on for goldfish and coloring books.  

Jordan heard it from the couple at the pool as she frantically scrambled to equip the kids with sunscreen and floaties.  

I heard it from a grandmother on the beach who saw me hauling bags, chairs, and sandy toys.

We heard it from couples on the sidewalk who passed by our giggling gang of training wheels and strollers.   

We heard it from my parents as we reminisced on our own family vacations when I was a little kid.  

I know it’s a common cliche that older folks offer to young parents, but each person who said it seemed to really feel it.   

Sometimes they provided their own nostalgic story or a proud account of where their kids are today.  Sometimes they just paused and looked as if they were transported from their peaceful poolside cocktail to a moment as stressed young parents scrambling with their own sunscreen and floaties. 

Part of them seemed glad to have graduated to greener pastures.  Part of them seemed to miss the chaos.  But they all seemed to sum up these complex feelings with two simple words, “Don’t Blink.”

In the chaotic moments, there was too much going on to respond with anything profound.  All I could come up with is an “I’ll try” or “I hear ya” or some type of open-ended question about their kids to buy myself some extra time to focus on finding the goldfish.  

But now that I’ve had a chance to look back on the pictures and reflect on the trip, I’ll use these “Don’t Blink” reminders as motivation to do the following;

First, I’ll savor the moments. I’ll try to soak in all the joy that comes with the chaos.  Capture the memories. Recognize that I’m currently living in the “good old days.” 

Avoid pressing fast forward…

to a time when my kids are more self-sufficient on the travel days. Try to savor the excitement they express when they see a plane take off.  

Avoid pressing fast forward to a time when the kids can safely swim on their own.  Try to savor that adorable look of crooked goggles and puddle jumpers and the squeal that you hear right before they splash into the water.

Avoid pressing fast forward to a time when I get to relax on my beach chair and complete an uninterrupted conversation. Savor the fun of running away from the incoming tide, digging a hole, and filling up buckets of sand.

Avoid pressing fast forward to a time of relaxing meals without kids whining about who gets to sit next to Mimi. Try to savor all of the meals that my kids will get to share with their Mimi and Pop Pop.

“Don’t blink” also reminds me to take care of my future self.

30 years ago, these people who now say “Don’t blink” were probably the young parents that older folks said it to.

They probably struggled to picture themselves in the lives and under the circumstances they have today.  But here they are.  

And now that they’re here, they’re probably damn glad they invested in their health, relationships, and wealth in the preceding decades the way that they did.

I just spent a week watching my parents and their friends living their best life as Florida snowbirds. Their daily decisions seem to be:

Work or play? Tennis or pickleball? Pool or beach? Swim with the grandkids or go out for a round of golf with friends? Dinner downtown or happy hour by the Cabana? SPF 30 or 50? 

So if I want to be living my best life and be faced with these same daily decisions in my 60s, I’d better do the things I need to do today to give myself a chance at that lifestyle.

Because in the blink of an eye, Jordan and I might be fortunate enough to one day find ourselves in a pool or by a cabana or on the tennis court free to do whatever we want. And when we see that young family scrambling with sun screen or floaties, I’m sure it’ll bring us back to those special vacations to North Naples visiting Mimi and Pop Pop.  

And with a smile on our face (and maybe a tear in our eye) we’ll offer the young parents a simple suggestion: “Don’t Blink.”  

For a highlight reel of the trip:

You greet your friends at the Philly airport bar.

You’re all ready to fly down to Charleston for your buddy’s bachelor party.

You’ve left the responsibilities of life behind you. You’re well rested, worry free, and full of anticipation for what lies ahead.

You order a beer, talk logistics, and exchange mutual excitement with your boys.

Then you blink.

You find yourself sitting at gate D18 of the Charleston airport awaiting your flight back towards the land of responsibility.

The blur of a weekend that you just experienced went by way too fast. And you’re left feeling less healthy and less wealthy than you were on Thursday. The dopamine car that you’ve raced around for the past 50 hours has just come to a screeching halt.

The Splitwise and Venmo requests start rolling in. Your head hurts. You’d probably fail a biometric screening. You left your voice box with the live band the night before.

The notion sets in that this weekend you had circled on the calendar has come and gone. The Sunday Scaries take over.

But then a text comes through the group chat.

And then another one.

And then another one.

The flurry of texts are nothing of substance. But you soon become that guy in the airport looking at your phone, uncontrollably giggling at the banter from the group.

In that moment, you realize something.

The Bachelor Party isn’t actually over. And it definitely wasn’t all for nothing. You’ve accumulated “Memory Dividends” from the trip that will pay out for life. The payouts come in the form of:

The stories from the weekend.

The bonds that you formed.

The random people you met.

The crew that went down for Chris’ Bachelor Party in Charleston will never get together again in this same location with this same itinerary.

But we’re always going to share this experience with each other. And we’ll recapture the joy of the trip through each memory dividend that pays out.

Because going forward, every time I hear the songs “Texas Hold ‘Em” or “Murder on the Dancefloor,” my soul will be transported right back to King Street with this crew.

When I see the guys who were there, I’ll think about the quality time on our Air BnB roof deck and the dinner we shared at Stars.

I’ll randomly chuckle to myself about the storm that destroyed our lunch at Shem Creek and all of the inside jokes that we’ve accumulated over the weekend.

I’ll remember the late night heart to heart conversations. I see you, Brett Johnson.

I’ll cherish the long morning walk I took around Charleston with Snyd and Spins.

I’ll crave the chicken nuggets and twisted teas that Eric had ready for the crew when we returned to the Air BnB after a Friday night out.

I’ll learn a few things from Tony Slick’s initiative, Bunge’s unbridled enthusiasm, and Terence’s whole vibe.

I’ll thank Johnny for knowing exactly what to do when we got a flat tire on the way home from the airport.

And Chris, I’ll always appreciate having my brother who won’t ever go home until we’ve belted out Mr. Brightside.

As I write this, we’ve settled up our debts, overcome our hangovers, and mourned the ending of one of my favorite bachelor parties. Now, we’ll cash in on these stories and laughs for a long time.

Whether it’s your best friend’s bachelor party or something else that you invest a lot of time, money, and energy into- accept that it won’t last forever. But go all in anyway.

Because experiences that offer big memory dividends will never be a bad investment.

By the way, a big dividend payout is coming up at Chris and Katie’s wedding on April 6. This squad better come ready to reinvest!

Oh yeah…and I won’t forget this homecoming either. Thanks for letting Dad have this one!

No wind. No rain. No winter storm can stop us, baby!

And January brought all of it.

Fallen trees. Power outage. A little water in the basement. A desperate scramble to preserve frozen food and find somewhere warm to sleep. 2 hour delays. Daycare closures. A snowblower that wouldn’t start. Stressed parents. Restless kids. Rotating sicknesses. Interrupted schedules. Grumpy moods.

As I come out on the other side of the recent series of storms, I hope my forecast app shows brighter and dryer days ahead. But sNow worries!

The inclement weather actually brought some of the best experiences of the month.

Because without the storms, I might not have experienced the beautiful example of generosity and dependability of my neighbors, who sprung to action first offering freezers and electricity, and then a week later offering snowblowers and sledding hills.

We wouldn’t have gotten the impromptu Wednesday sleepover party at the Reids’ house if we didn’t need to seek refuge. The kids would have missed out on waking up with their friend Maddie on her 3rd birthday. And Jordan and I wouldn’t have gotten to share late night wine and laughs with some of our best friends on a school night like we were back at Penn State.

I wouldn’t have gotten to see a bunch of toddlers gathering at the window, fascinated by the first snow fall of the season.

I wouldn’t have been able to teach Charlie and Jack how to shovel the driveway- both a fun activity, an important lesson, and an investment in Dad’s convenience when it snows in the future.

We wouldn’t have gotten to drink hot chocolate and snuggle up to watch the Parent Trap on a Friday. We might not have gotten to dance around to “Ain’t no Mountain High Enough” in our pjs as the snow fell outside.

And we wouldn’t have gone sledding…the highlight of 2024. So I wouldn’t have gotten to hear all the giggles and the hopeful requests of, “Cmon Dad, one more time!” as they slid down and climbed back up the hill with their friends and cousins again and again. We wouldn’t have gotten to see Charlie and Jack experience that growth from cautious to confident that you get when you try a new activity.

I probably could have done without this stunt with my brother-in-law, Mikey, though:

Actually, no, I’ll take a little back pain for that lasting memory!

I guess the point is, bring on the storms! I don’t look forward to them, but I’ll try my best to acknowledge that they’re coming whether I like it or not. And I have a choice to be grumpy and anxious and negative as I wait for the storm to pass (sorry about my mood, Jordo), or I can learn how to dance in the rain/play in the snow.

Because these storms bring some of the most important experiences- and some important people might be waiting on your response.

If you don’t see you…

You can’t be you…

And if you can’t be you…

You won’t free you…

So take time to see you

Because the world needs YOU.

The other day, a repairman came to fix my washing machine. When I greeted the repairman with a “How ya doing,” he quietly grumbled something like, “Uhh…I’m here aren’t I? Only a few more days until the weekend. Where’s the machine?” As we showed him to the laundry room, it was clear that he needed a repair more than the washing machine. The guy was physically there, but his soul seemed to be stuck somewhere else.

On the contrary, at my Uncle John Bonder’s funeral service last week, the speakers shared stories about Uncle John’s full approach to life. Uncle John beat to his own drum, embraced who he was, pursued careers and adventures that he loved, rocked his own unique style, created lasting memories, and then later embellished those memories in stories that have been passed down generations. Even though Uncle John is no longer physically with us, his soul and traditions are still very much alive. His life sparked a little extra life in everyone he touched. The stories about Uncle John reminded me of the quote “Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive. And then go do that. Because what the world needs is more people who have come alive.*”

We all hope to enter 2024 full of life and purpose. The question is, what are we doing to make sure that happens? If you’re closing out 2023 feeling burned out, out of place, or on autopilot, how will you adjust to find your inner “Uncle John” before you concede to your inner “grumbling repairman?”

For me, the answer requires a little reflection. This time of year, I typically reflect on the moments/situations when I have felt most alive and felt at the top of my game. I think about how those highlights represent who I am when I’m at my best. Then, I look ahead at potential opportunities in the upcoming year to be that more often.

I recently spoke with high school students at a DECA business competition about this topic of self reflection. We walked through exercises (like the Ikigai graphic above) to create clarity and build confidence in who they are as they discover their values, interests, and gifts which can guide them through their next chapter post-graduation.

I shared how I deconstruct my strengths and weaknesses, likes and dislikes, values and fears. I demonstrated how I map out the opportunities over the next 1, 3, and 5 years. I revealed my weekly personal scorecard where I self evaluate how I’m showing up for my family, friends, and clients. I showed how the process of writing more than 100 blog posts has helped me capture so many of these highlights and the lessons I’m learning in real-time.

I claimed that my consistent practice of personal reflection helps me make wiser choices, cultivate deeper relationships, provide better guidance, create more meaningful experiences, and most importantly feel more alive.

Then, I had them get started on their own journey.

As I attempted to inspire the DECA students’, one or two understandably rolled their eyes. But I did notice several of them excitedly responding to my prompts in their notebooks. And in that moment it was clear to me: helping people come alive is what makes me come alive.

I’m heading into 2024 loving the life that I live, the work that I do, the crew that I’m with, and the future that awaits.

But whether you are feeling like the washing machine repairman or you’ve got the spirit of Uncle John in you, I encourage you to give this reflection thing a try.

Because as we head into the fresh start of a new year:

If you don’t see you…

You can’t be you…

And if you can’t be you…

You won’t free you…

So take the time to see you

Because the world needs YOU.

Here’s a 10 question starter pack to see YOU better in 2024. Keep in mind, you’re the only one with the answer key:

• Describe 2 or 3 moments throughout your life when you were at your personal best?
• Describe 2 or 3 moments in the past year or two when you were feeling most engaged in the work you were doing/adventure you were pursuing.

• What unique roles have you tended to play in the groups/teams you’ve been a part of?

• What are the activities and concepts you naturally gravitate to more than others?

• If your family, friends, teammates, or clients were to describe your best qualities, what would you hope they say?
• How often are you currently doing the things that make you come alive? What’s holding you back from doing it more?
• Based on the “Ikigai” graphic above- where does your current career path fall on that map?

• If we are catching up 2 or 3 years from today- what would have to happen to make you feel really good about the progress you’re making personally and professionally?

• What opportunities might come up in the next 6 months that would help make that progress? What threats would you like to avoid to stay on track?

• Who in your life might you benefit from sharing these responses with?

Happy New Year and Good luck in 2024!

As I attempted to digest those extra scoops of mashed potatoes and stuffing last Thursday night, two competing sensations overcame me. The first was an uncomfortable tsunami of tryptophan… the second was pure gratitude. Gratitude for things like:

The best life partner to share this special journey with.

A 5 year old daughter who is the best big sister and role model for her siblings.

A 3 year old boy who has the biggest laugh and brings out the biggest laugh in all of us.

A new baby girl who has the sweetest blue eyes and most reliable sleep patterns.

A Mom/Mimi who is even better than Santa Claus and Princess Elsa in the eyes of her grandkids.

A Dad who got me back into tennis by being the best hitting partner a son could ask for.

A father in law who’s shown me the power of his 4Fs.

Siblings, in-laws, nieces, nephews, aunts and uncles, cousins, and a 90 year old Grandmom who continue to make our family trees more vibrant and full than ever before.

Friends who have established the best village to raise our kids in.

And how those same responsible and successful friends can still revert back to our 23 year old maturity levels on occasion.

A best friend who invited me to be his Best Man.

A cousin who has showed me what Mamba Mentality is all about.

And beyond all that, I’m so thankful to have:

Teammates and clients at Financial Coach/New Wealth Project who continue to give me the opportunities, support, and flexibility to do what I love on a daily basis.

A 30+ Men’s League soccer team who provides a washed up mediocre soccer player an opportunity to exercise, compete, and banter with the boys on Thursday nights at USTC.

Local elementary schools who allowed me to share Charlie Buys a Bike with their students.

A daycare/preschool that my kids love and a YMCA that we used as a lifeline throughout the year.

My favorite sports teams who have entertained us and made us proud all year round.

And all the great people and experiences that made my life a little better along the way. 

If you’re still reading this- I’m thankful for you for continuing to engage with these monthly reflections. I have so much to be thankful for in 2023 and even more to look forward to in 2024…

But next year when they say “take it all in,” I’ll try to remember they’re talking about the blessings- not the casserole.

“Daddy- why didn’t they drop us off at the apples?” Charlie asked with a trace of confusion and disappointment in her voice.  

I didn’t have a good answer for her.  Frankly, I was kinda confused and disappointed too.

When I reserved the tickets for the Hayride at Lin Villa Orchards, I assumed that we’d be dropped off by the apples and/or pumpkins for a bit. But as the wagon parked in the same spot we had recently boarded, I found out that it was…

just a quick little hayride.

Don’t get me wrong. The ride itself was wonderful. Charlie and Jack snuggled up with me in the hay with their snack cups in hand. Jordan held Payson on her chest in the baby carrier. We ooo’d and ahhh’d at the colors on the trees. The kids’ eyes lit up when we saw the different kinds of apples and pumpkins. I figured the hayride would take us “to” the orchard, not just “through” the orchard, but oh well. We had a nice ride, so I shrugged it off.

But Charlie didn’t shrug it off. She insisted that I provide a valid rationale. “Why didn’t the hayride take us anywhere?” She repeated. “What was the point of that?”

I scrambled in my response, “I don’t know. I guess I signed up for the wrong one. Uhhh- Who wants to ride the ponies and eat Apple-Cider donuts?”

It worked. She was satisfied with my response. Not because it was a strong rationale, but because it offered a snack and activity worthy of forgiveness for my silly Dad mistakes. But I don’t know if I was fully satisfied with my response…until a more compelling alternative came to me later in the month.

If I had a second chance at this “teachable moment,” I would have said:

“Charlie – ya know what? Sometimes in life, it doesn’t matter where the wagon takes us or how many pumpkins we come back with. Sometimes all that matters is that we enjoy the ride – the feelings, the experiences, the memories, the snacks, the laughs, and the people we get to ride along with. In fact, an enjoyable ride might be worth all the apples in the orchard.

Because sometimes the hayride doesn’t take us where we planned. And sometimes the ultimate destination won’t be what we hoped. Sometimes we’ll get our tires stuck in the leaves and we might even veer off course and take a different route.

But the question we’ll have to ask ourselves is, “are we enjoying the ride?” Because that’s what really matters, Charlie.

It’s like the Phillies this year. How much fun was that?! The whole time, we hoped we were on our way to win the World Series. And when we lost, it was natural to feel disappointed that we walked away empty handed. But think back on that wild ride. Remember all the big home runs and close games and that exciting crowd? Remember that video we watched a bunch of times when the stadium was singing “A-OK” right before the Phillies guy hit the grand slam home run?! A World Series sure would have been a bonus, but I’m so glad we took that ride on the bandwagon together for another October.

Even for Daddy, its not always easy. I often have to remind myself of this too. I sometimes lose focus on the ride itself when I’m seeking a certain outcome. When I’m trying to be a good parent, striving to be a successful advisor or even publishing a blog post – I can’t forget about amazing ride that I’m currently on- because that’s where the fun is. Sometimes Charlie, it’s good to pause in our pursuit of happiness, and just be happy.

I enjoyed that hayride, and I always love riding through life with you, Bear! And if we come home with apples sometimes- great! If not, I’m happy to just have some fun looking at the trees, snuggling up, and playing a little game of ‘I Spy.’

Do you understand what Daddy is trying to say?”

And just in case Charlie rolls her eyes and says, “No, Dad, you’re weird.”

I would then go with, “No? Well uhh, who wants to ride the ponies and eat apple cider donuts?!”

When I turn 90, I hope to look back at my life with good health and a sharp mind to see:

A wonderful marriage that lasted more than 60 years.

A home that brought me joy and peace on the ordinary days and hosted my all time favorite moments on the extraordinary ones. In fact, I hope one of my kids or grandkids even buys my house so I can hang out and have a cocktail on the patio without needing to pull a single weed.

I hope to look back at my life and see many memories of parties, vacations, and fun times with loved ones.

And a library full of life lessons that I’ve learned from and shared with others.

And a long standing reputation of lifting people up and bringing them together.

And a healthy family tree that keeps sprouting new branches.

When I turn 90, I hope to celebrate all of these things surrounded by crying babies, rambunctious toddlers, and cute little kids digging holes, filling buckets, chasing seagulls all around an overpopulated family chair circle on the beach.

And even if the weather turns cold, windy, and rainy and all the other groups leave the beach, I hope my crew hangs on for a just a little longer because they want to spend a few more minutes together.

I guess what I’m trying to say is, when I turn 90, I want to be like my Grandmom.

Because as family members caravanned in from all directions to celebrate Grandmom’s 90th Birthday in Sea Isle this weekend, it was beautifully chaotic. Grandmom got to see her own grand babies from 30 years prior become the new generation of stressed out beach parents.

She laughed out loud with multiple generations of family members as she caught up with each person about houses, jobs, childcare, and wedding plans. She got to watch a special video compiled by one of the crafty millennials in which everyone shared their love and wished her Happy Birthday in their own unique way. She got to blow out candles surrounded by people that love her so much. And she could celebrate all of this confidently knowing that her and Pop Pop have built a legacy that we all strive to carry forward.

I’m so grateful to celebrate this birthday with you, Grandmom.

First, because I love you and like having you around.

Also, because I’m happy for you to have this pretty cool bucket list experience.

But more than anything, I’m grateful because you’ve painted a target for the rest of us to strive for- in the lives we lead, the families we raise, the legacies we build, and the love we share…for as long as we can. Happy Birthday!

What’s the plan for 100?

“What’s it like having 3 under 5?” That’s been the question since our daughter, Payson, arrived on August 1^st.   And it’s a loaded question. 

Because it’s not always easy, but it is really special.

We’re in the trenches over here caring for a needy newborn while potty training a little bull in a China shop and striving to reason with a 4 going on 14 year old. August brought plenty of tense mornings, tired nights, and soiled pants (Jack’s – not mine). But at the same time, it brought some of the warmest snuggles, loudest laughs, and deepest love that I’ve ever felt in my life.

August brought frustrating times like when Charlie and Jack would barge into Payson’s room to wake her up ahead of schedule. But it also brought me joy seeing how much they love their baby sister.

It brought the helpless moments when I was busy changing the baby’s diaper and I’d hear crashing and clattering in the other room. But it was adorable to find Charlie and Jack playing “Catch,” making each other a snack, or getting their helmets ready for a family bike ride.

It brought us the challenge of getting out of the house with all the supplies we need. But when I’d look in the rearview mirror and see my whole family, I felt full and complete- even if the diaper bag wasn’t.

August brought the stress inducing sounds of tantrums, whiney kids, and stomping feet. I heard one too many dramatic cries of “GIVE ME THE YELLOW PLATE!” and “I DON’T WANT TO TAKE A NAP!” But it also brought some of the most beautiful sounds in the world – like Payson’s squeaks and squeals, or Charlie learning how to read, or the exclamation of “Dadddyyyyy!!” when I wake up Charlie and Jack in the morning, or the excited pitter patter of their feet running down the hallway when I pick them up from school.

It brought the inconveniences of having our schedule dictated by feedings and naps, and rarely being able to get anything done because someone constantly needs Mom or Dad. But it also brought the special realization that these little people fully depend on us, and there’s no greater feeling of responsibility.

It brought the need for a “Box-and-one” defensive strategy where I often needed to get the rambunctious big kids out of the house for a few hours to give Jordan and Payson some peace and quiet. But those hours getting out of the house brought some of the most fun memories of the month.

August brought the draining bedtime routines which sometimes feel more like a hostage negotiation followed by a 3-ring circus followed by a WWE wrestling match followed by a million “I’ve gotta go pottttyyyy” and “I’m thirstyyyy” and “Jack is trying to do flips off his bed again!” But those same epic battles usually included the cutest giggles and the best cuddles.

And when the “big kids” finally went to sleep, August brought the added challenge of getting a cranky newborn to sleep before we could take on the pile of dishes or mountain of laundry. But when Payson would peacefully fall asleep in our arms, the awaiting to-do list no longer seemed to matter.

August brought the dirty moments of spit up on our shirts, potty training accidents, crumbs on the floor, spills on the table, sticky fingers on the windows, and grassy footprints in the kitchen. But I think one day I’ll miss the messy chaos and all the evidence of a fun little life that the kiddos leave behind.

Having 3 under 5 naturally limited the amount of time for Jordan and I to relax and enjoy each other’s uninterrupted company. But there was an extra level of appreciation that came with each of the glasses of wine that we got to share with each other as we toasted to the survival of another day. Because there’s nobody in the world I’d rather experience this chaos with.

So yeah, it hasn’t always been easy, but it has always been special…

It’s special to do life with “Super Mom” who seems to always know what to do and more importantly what to pack! It’s special to have an angel baby that sleeps well and happily tags along with wherever we choose to go that day. It’s special to have all the love and support that continues to pour in from family and friends. It’s special going 5-wide on family walks through the neighborhood and the park. Its also special getting our individual bonding moments with our favorite kids in the world – belting out Taylor Swift with Charlie, riding bikes with Jack, and nuzzling Payson’s warm head. It’s extra special embracing each moment like it’s the last time we’ll ever be in this 3 under 5 stage. And it’s most special falling in love with a girl who I didn’t even know just a month ago.

“What’s it like having 3 under 5?”  It’s a loaded question, but I feel so damn lucky to answer it.

Waiting is the hardest part. Tom Petty sang it. The Janiecs are feeling it.

Jordan’s due date is today (July 30^th). With her track record of going early, we assumed my July reflection would introduce our new child to the world. But since this baby is taking its damn time, the only thing to reflect on is “the waiting.”

We’ve spent most of July enjoying the long-awaited introductions of adorable newborns like Romee Minutillo, Nolan Mouton, Jackson Orton, Ellie Spinelli, and all the other baby announcements across social media. Each announcement brought us one step closer to our turn. And as we patiently waited for our turn, we’ve been packing our bags, preparing the nursery, getting stuff done around the house, taking care of outstanding items at work, and clearing the social calendar. But now that our turn has finally come…it’s been crickets.

And the waiting sucks. I can’t imagine how it feels to be 10 months pregnant– let alone to be 10 months pregnant for the third time in less than 5 years- but it doesn’t take a very observant husband to recognize that this final stretch is brutal for Mom. The days are hot. The sleepless nights are long. The UFC fight going on inside of Jordo’s belly seems torturous. Outside of trying to speed up the process up with spicy foods, massages, balance balls, curb walks, and other home remedies, this baby’s exit strategy is largely out of our control…so we just wait.

I recognize that it’s dangerous to put a positive spin on an uncomfortable experience that I can’t even fathom. So for the most part, it’s probably better to just erase the memories of this waiting period. But if I may…there is one aspect of this memory that I’ll try to preserve.

These past few days have given us time to pause and anticipate the significance of the change that awaits. In these final days as a family of 4, the snuggles have been tighter, the laughs have been louder, the love has been deeper, and my tear ducts have been more active than usual. It’s hard to imagine what’s about to happen, how I’m going to feel, and the way we’ll all be forever changed in the coming days, but there’s something powerful about this experience in the “calm before the storm” that I’d like to hold on to.

And I just hope the extra time that Jordo has had to battle will make the grand prize that much sweeter. She’s been a champ through this whole thing and I can’t wait to meet the little angel that’s been causing all this pain and suffering. Only a few more days…maybe hours! They say the best things in life are worth waiting for. I have a feeling this will be one of those things.