When you marry and have children, you naturally and rightfully reserve your Mother’s Day social media posts for your wife. The only conundrum with this is that the opportunity to recognize your own mom falls to the wayside. Thank goodness for birthdays.

My mom and I dancing at my wedding in 2016. Today I would like to wish her a happy birthday.

Tonight I would like to warmly wish my mom a happy birthday. She turned 65 years old today, which corresponds roughly to the 65,000,000 acts of kindness, selflessness, and service she has done for others over the course of her life.

They don’t come much better than my mom.

I don’t think it is too much of a stretch to say that my mom does as much for me as a 35-year-old as she did for me when I was a 5-year-old. In fact, it might be more. You see, 30 years later, she doesn’t just watch over me but she watches over the other three members of my family too.

My mom isn’t just supportive of me. She is an extremely supportive mother-in-law and grandma.

She is Sid’s second mother, Sloan’s baking assistant, and Beau’s hero. Most of all, she is my example of what it means to put others first. There is simply no one else in my life who gives as selflessly and endlessly as my mom.

My mom does so much for her grandchildren and they all love her so much.

So on this second day of August in 2022, I want to encourage my mom to take the time for herself that she so justly deserves. Our family is so appreciative of you. Don’t Blink.

August is interesting. I consider it a transitional month. The first part is devoted to remaining summer fun while the final part is reserved for getting back to business—whether that be returning to the classroom, shifting back to regular hours at work, or just preparing for the impending arrival of fall.

Last August, we spent a weekend in the middle of the month at a wedding in Walla Walla. It kind of marked the middle of the transition from lazy summer days to a more structured routine.

With transition comes emotion. For some it is excitement, for some anxiety—or perhaps a little bit of both. It can be exhilarating to begin a new school year or go back to a more structured routine. At the same time, for many it is tough to wave goodbye to the waning days of summer and the carefree vibe from the past couple months.

For a lengthy period of my life, August was more of the “back to business” equation of the transition. In high school, football practice would start in the middle of the month. Once I reached college, I would be summoned back to campus at the start of the month for my resident advisor gig. After I graduated, my first professional job was working in the University of Montana athletics department and we would always say that summer officially ended on July 31—any type of August transitional period be damned.

But at this current stage in my life, thankfully, August is more about “summer fun.” Sloan doesn’t start school until September and after devoting so many past Augusts to “getting back into the swing of things,” I have no problem embracing a more relaxed attitude.

This August especially will bring with it more summer memories than autumn memories for our family. More on that later.

It is my wish for you that, if it is your preference, you also get to enjoy a summer that extends through most of August. Have a wonderful month, everyone! Don’t Blink.

Much to my happiness and our children’s entertainment, the cul-de-sac we live on is home to numerous young kids (besides the ones living under our roof). Sloan and Beau have spent pretty much every day this summer playing with their neighbors and owning our little corner of the neighborhood. As someone who enjoyed a childhood that was filled with long summer days playing with the kids on my street, I am overjoyed that Sloan and Beau are receiving the same experience.

Sloan and her neighbor friends play with chalk in our driveway.

Although the social interaction is priceless, I am also now privy to the minor parental annoyances that are a byproduct of neighbor kids congregating. I am talking about silly things like Sloan sneaking into our pantry and distributing all our snacks to her friends, bikes and toys constantly littering our driveway, and the conversion of our garage into a clubhouse. You know, things that my parents dealt with 25 years ago that I am just now sympathizing with?

Sloan, Beau, and neighbor children play with each other in our driveway. This group has so much fun together!

And then there is one final thing. When I was a kid, my parents enforced something that drove me NUTS. Like I seriously detested it. But now I 100% understand it and hold my kids to it as well (who equally hate it). Okay, this is what it is…

There was no bigger buzzkill than when I was playing with the neighbors and my parents called me inside for dinner. Despite pleas to skip our family meal so I could stay outside, my mom and dad never relented. So what was my reaction once I was seated at the table? I ate my dinner as fast as I possibly could. Without any regard for the time it took to cook the meal nor the financial resources used to provide it, I would inhale whatever was in front of me or just say I was full. Okay mom, can I go back out and play?

Of course, the speed demon strategy never worked. Instead, my request to return outside was always met with the same infuriating response from my parents: No, you need to let your food settle.

Oh, how I hated it when my parents said that. To this day it is still ingrained in my mind and it still generates a little bit of frustration…but I now completely understand it. The point behind “letting your food settle” was to give our bodies just a little bit of time to digest the food that was stuffed down our throats before dashing back outside to run around the neighborhood. Somewhat logical, right? Of course “letting your food settle” was also code for don’t think disrespecting the dinner I made by engulfing it in two minutes will allow you to leave this table.

As I would “let my food settle” I would stew in my chair, thinking about what my friends were doing and what I was missing out on. The time seemed to go by so slow. The magic words “Okay, you can go back out” were always so liberating.

Sloan tries to pull the same stunt I did by eating at warp speed. But just like my parents did with me, we keep her honest…and use that same endearing phrase. Of course we want her food to settle in the literal sense, but, just like my parents, we want to uphold the importance of family dinner. She might not understand it now but “letting her food settle” is a crucial lesson in respect, fellowship, and appreciation. Don’t Blink.