Watch the video!
[From Sports Illustrated, By Rick Reilly]
I try to be a good father. Give my kids mulligans. Work nights to pay
for their text messaging. Take them to swimsuit shoots.
But compared with Dick Hoyt, I suck.
Eighty-five times he’s pushed his disabled son, Rick, 26.2 miles in
marathons. Eight times he’s not only pushed him 26.2 miles in a
wheelchair but also towed him 2.4 miles in a dinghy while swimming and
pedaled him 112 miles in a seat on the handlebars–all in the same
day.
Dick’s also pulled him cross-country skiing, taken him on his back
mountain climbing. Makes taking your son bowling look a little lame,
right?
(more…)
My sister is in a commercial for her company. Can you guess which which one is her?
We received and interesting package in the mail the other day. Despite my curiosity, I waited until Beth got home for it to be opened since it was addressed to her. It was a nice little hygiene set from the company that makes the birth control that Beth uses.
I suppose it was a nice gesture. A couple of minutes later, while inspecting our gift, we noticed some small print on the bag. “Keep Life Simple.”
I think that is a very cold way to interpret the use of birth control. Our decision to use contraceptives was based on our ability to care for another child, not whether another child would complicate our lives. I think this viewpoint on birth control promotes promiscuity, and I can almost understand why the Catholic church prohibits birth control.
Tony is still feeling a little under the weather, so we decided to keep him home from Church today. Beth and RJ still attended the early service and Bible Study/Sunday School. This week marks the beginning of a new Bible Study class for the adults. Our Church offers several different classes each session, and the class the we decided to attend is, “The Masterpiece Marriage.” Beth dutifully attended this class, alone. If it were not for the abundance of other displaced spouses in attendance, I would think that this would not bode well for us in this class.
