This started as a small idea.

A quiet one. And then I jumped in.

Three hundred sixty-five days. Three hundred sixty-five blog posts. January 12, 2025 through January 12, 2026.

Some entries flowed easily. Others felt like a root canal. But still, the habit stuck. One day led to the next, and the calendar kept flipping.

And somehow, here we are.

I set this goal for two reasons:

1) To freeze snapshots from our everyday family life
2) To challenge myself as a writer

Well, I finally landed the plane. The year wrapped up.

Thanks for reading along over the past twelve months. And especially for the encouragement.

The blog will stay, just not daily. Weekly feels right. Or whenever the itch shows up and the cursor starts blinking again.

Adios, until next time.

January 12th means… Kate’s birthday!

On Sunday, we celebrated with her in Richmond. After church and gifts, Kate, Jess, and I enjoyed brunch at First Watch, followed by window shopping in Carytown. We capped off the afternoon with a dessert stop at Sweet Frog.

During our meal, we continued a tradition started years ago, asking the same set of birthday questions.

The list runs about twenty deep, covering everything from favorite colors and sports teams to future dreams. And the big ones are always fun: career plans, marriage, kids.

It’s interesting to see how the answers change over time.

One of the questions is, “What do you love?” And Kate responded in the most Kate way possible:

“Life.”

That single word captures her completely. She dances through her days, quick to laugh at herself. Sunshine seems to follow her around. Want to groove to music? She’s your girl. Feel like going out for a meal or settling in for a movie? Sign her up.

She moves through the world with a natural, wonderful mantra: “Why not?”

This fearless spirit has guided her through high school choir and track, two summers at a child development center, a college role as a Resident Advisor, and a campus marketing position.

At one point on Sunday I asked, “What job do you want to have in ten years?” She thought for a minute and then answered confidently.

“I’d like to teach hip-hop dance.”

Wow… I didn’t see that one coming. But it’s perfectly Kate.

And with her passion for life, I’ll be the first to enroll.

Happy Birthday, Kate!

The container of time.

Long before planners and phone alerts, calendars followed the Moon. Early farmers watched the soil and skies.

Then the Babylonians invented the seven-day week.

Centuries later, in 1582, Pope Gregory XIII approved a new approach. Today, this Gregorian system serves as the official one for nearly the entire planet, a combination of astronomical observations and religious reforms.

For me, a calendar holds more than dates. Each square freezes a moment.

Here are my favorites with Jess:

August 24, 1995
First date — a baseball game then an evening beach stroll.

September 9, 1995
First kiss at a quiet park.

October 13, 1995
First “I Love You” — stated by me, not her. She took almost 24 hours to say it back.

May 17, 1997
Engagement — on the beach with a big conch shell.

March 7, 1998
Marriage — a walk down the aisle at Talbot Park Baptist Church in Norfolk.

And then, our story expanded with more miraculous days involving our children.

It’s nice to have a system that captures these special milestones, reminding us of what matters in life.

Shout out to the Pope.

Getting ready.

What to do when a huge event happens in a couple of months? Grab some paint, of course.

Today called for brushes and drop cloths. Jess, Jake, and I showed up at McKenzie and Will’s house prepared to put color on some walls.

We rolled up our sleeves and cranked up some music. Then cracked open paint cans.

But this wasn’t just a standard refresh. Not even close. Our granddaughter arrives soon, and these four walls will become her first space in the world.

Each stroke felt intentional, knowing the room will hold tender moments. Late-night feedings. First giggles. The colors painted today will be among the earliest shapes and shades her eyes learn to recognize.

Painting a nursery is like writing a love letter to someone you haven’t met yet.

For several hours, we helped shift the space. From bare to a place of belonging. Each pass of the brush becoming an act of welcome, filling every inch with warmth and love before she arrives.

Sometimes anticipation smells like fresh paint.

There aren’t many constants in life.

But a sibling is one of them.

Mark is my younger brother by three years. And it’s amazing to have someone who shares so much history with me.

Since the early days, he holds a front-row seat. We have a secret language and inside jokes that come from a lifetime together. One weird phrase can make us laugh like kids again.

We’re the two people on earth who speak the dialect of our childhood. A shorthand needing no explanation. He’s my living scrapbook, an archive of dusty memories.

Only a handful know the deep stories of Trail 8 and Everett Street. Just a select few can tell the tales of Bud Apple and Stump, G.W.F. Bates and Roll-A-Bout, the Atomic Small and the Pacer, along with all the wacky neighbors and family vacation trips.

Spending your youth with another person is a gift, because memories make sense to those who lived them beside you. You never have to carry the past alone.

Yesteryear feels richer when someone else can remember the same kitchen, the same weekends at the grandparents, the same Sunday meals.

One of Mark’s greatest strengths is his mind, a steel trap for remembering things. Especially numbers and dates. Ask a question and the guy turns into a human search engine.

Plus, he’s a whiz with analytical and mechanical puzzles. And since the start, animals and roller coasters have held a soft spot in his heart.

To top it all off, Mark also gave me a sister-in-law, Isley, and a nephew, Chandler. Two special gifts.

Growing up side-by-side is like being co-sailors on a voyage, experiencing both the storms and calm seas of childhood from the same small, rocking boat.

Someone once said, “A sibling is the only person who can look at you and see the child, the teenager, and the adult all at once.”

All this to say… reach out to your sibling(s) today.

There’s no one else in the world like them.

Faith.

People toss this word around, but what does it really mean?

My favorite definition: Faith is trusting God in the dark.

Think of faith as a seed.

A kernel enters soil without visibility. The most important work happens underground, germinating.

Faith grows the same way.

And just as a seed must be planted, so faith demands burying our own understanding and control.

It’s letting go to let grow.

Miraculously, a tiny acorn holds the genetic code for a mighty oak. It’s all there, packed into something small and unimpressive. Likewise, faith contains a divine blueprint.

Embrace this truth at your core, before a single sprout.

Growth is often hidden in the early stages. But believe the root is reaching downward, establishing the evidence of life. A quiet revolution taking place below your feet.

And since a seed cannot be rushed, this requires patience. That’s why faith and waiting go hand-in-hand.

Trust in the mysterious process. The ground itself shifts. Soil cracks. Space expands. What once felt confining begins to change shape, a structure rising toward the sun.

Faith is like the first step on an invisible staircase. But how do you take the step?

By planting a seed.

And how do you plant that seed?

By saying Yes in the dark.

Work hard to not be possessed by your possessions.

I love that Warren Buffett, considered one of history’s most successful investors, still drives an old car. It fits his “frugal billionaire” lifestyle.

Despite being worth over $140 billion, Buffett drove a 2001 Lincoln Town Car for nearly a decade. When he finally gave it up, he bought a used Cadillac.

When does he upgrade his vehicle? Only when his daughter says it’s becoming “embarrassing.”

Each morning, he visits the McDonald’s drive-thru and chooses between three breakfast items ($2.61, $2.95, or $3.17) depending on how the stock market is performing. And until recently, he used a flip phone.

For Buffett, standard of living is not the same as cost of living.

Collecting possessions brings the burden of storage and maintenance. So hold tight to your purse strings. When you accumulate treasures, you assume obligations.

The things you buy eventually end up buying your time.

Wealth is found in the absence of need, not the presence of stuff.

This phrase has always motivated me.

Speak up for those who cannot speak out.

This begins by watching the margins. That’s where you’ll find the vulnerable and oppressed.

They often hide in plain sight, existing in the gaps of our attention, easy to miss and even easier to overlook.

Your first job is simply to notice.

True advocacy starts not with speaking, but with seeing. Be aware of those who are not being defended.

Their silence doesn’t reflect contentment but rather exhaustion or fear. Translate that quiet into a call for change.

Your ability to speak without consequences is a form of privilege.

And your platform becomes meaningful only when you use it for others.

A riddle of epic proportions.

Back in the 70s, a cartoon commercial mesmerized a generation of kids. Featuring a popular lollipop, the ad asked, How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop?

The world, the commercial said, might never know.

Determined to find out, I grabbed one and sat down with paper and pencil. After each lick, I’d make a mark.

This seemed to take days.

But when I finally hit the brown tootsie middle, it felt like winning a gold medal. Then I counted my scribbles. And the grand total came to…dramatic pause...

429 licks.

Excited about my groundbreaking discovery, I mailed a letter to the Tootsie Roll Company, telling them the secret info. Satisfied with my accomplishment, I didn’t think about it again.

Until a few weeks later.

That’s when a large, important-looking envelope arrived, addressed to me. Inside, a fancy certificate stated these words:

TOOTSIE POP AWARD
Be It Known To All People
The world may never know how many licks it takes to reach the center of a Tootsie Pop... but a few strong-willed young men and women know. The bearer of this AWARD is one who KNOWS.

A company official had signed the bottom.

One of the proudest moments of my young life. And to this day, that certificate is kept in a scrapbook.

Curiosity starts most great adventures.

Ask questions and see where it leads you. The best learning will always require some work, but the process is part of the prize.

Bonus points if the ending includes chocolate.

This day’s for you, Will.

Today we celebrated his birthday with a surprise lunch at a waterside restaurant in Hampton. Our big table included me, Jess, McKenzie, Will’s parents, his brother and sister-in-law, and sweet niece.

Long ago, when McKenzie was small in my arms, I started praying for her future husband. This mystery person existed only as a hope, a face I couldn’t yet imagine.

I asked the good Lord for a man of integrity. Someone who would love generously, with a humble heart for God and others.

Watching how the dots connected still leaves me amazed.

God answered that prayer.

And then some.

A little wisdom nugget.

Joke yourself instead of someone else.

If anyone has to be the butt of your jokes, make it you. Punch up at yourself, not down at others.

If your wisecrack leaves a person feeling smaller, rethink the punchline.

Self-deprecation is a superpower for diffusing tension in a room. And your own flaws are an infinite goldmine. No need to spotlight someone else’s.

A laugh earned at your own expense costs nothing.

Here’s a shortcut for determining a person’s character.

If you ever wonder if someone is the right one for a second date or the perfect candidate to hire, then try this free test…

Put them in a room with a kid.

You can tell a lot about a person by observing how children respond to them.
-Steve Gutzler

Children are tiny truth detectors, and they’re drawn to the real deal. There’s a specific frequency they gravitate toward. And this cannot be faked.

It’s funny how an adult might charm a boardroom, but they can’t fool a five-year-old’s intuition. Watch how they handle a toddler’s sticky hands or the endless questions. Their actions will speak volumes.

Kids are like a mirror to the soul.

If you want someone’s quickest biography, listen for the laughter of little ones.

Or their silence.

On this day, 26 years ago, I almost died.

The night before, I didn’t feel well. Little red spots appeared on my body. I went to bed thinking about a doctor appointment the next day.

But that’s the last I remember.

In the middle of the night, Jess found me on the floor, shivering and confused. A hot shower was on, and the oven door stood open. She called an ambulance.

Over the next few days, while I lay in a coma, the medical staff told my family to say goodbye.

I had come down with meningococcal spinal meningitis. Basically, flu on steroids. A severe bacterial infection, leading to inflammation of the membranes around the brain and spinal cord.

When someone contracts meningitis, they usually face two outcomes: amputation or death. Yeah, not good. And I was on track to becoming a statistic because tests showed no brain activity (insert your joke here).

To make things worse, Jess was six months pregnant with McKenzie.

But friends started praying, and a miracle happened. I woke up almost a week later.

My first groggy thought was, “Why is everyone dressed like NASA astronauts?” Folks needed hazmat-level protection just to enter my room.

On the 8th day, I walked out of the hospital. From there, it took about a year to regain my full weight and strength.

So… that’s what I think about on January 1st.

Happy New Year. Stay safe out there.

Beware the little ways of quitting without actually quitting.

This can happen in jobs and volunteer roles. Even in families. And there’s a term for this...

Quiet Quitting.

It’s ‘throwing in the flag’ long before anyone else knows. Checking out. Phoning it in. Coasting.

So, evaluate your life:

Do you measure your day by how much time is left?
Are you procrastinating but calling it preparation?
Do you say “good enough” when you know it should be better?
Does silence seem safer than growth?
Are you there physically but still feel a million miles away?

These are signs your foot is off the gas.

And sometimes that’s okay. If something no longer aligns with your values, be decisive and end it. Clear endings beat quiet resentment.

But this takes courage, especially when the easier path is the slow fade.

The real betrayal isn’t quitting. It’s staying and pretending.

Check your thoughts.

Many people move through life wondering why everything feels hard and why others have more.

The culprit? A scarcity mindset.

It’s tunnel vision. The focus becomes what you lack rather than what you have; the wrong belief that there’s never enough to go around.

Hold up. STOP. There’s actually plenty.

Opportunities multiply when you share them. Someone else’s success doesn’t diminish yours.

So, here’s a test to determine if you have an abundance mindset. One simple question.

Do you celebrate with others when they succeed?

The best ideas come as jokes. Make your thinking as funny as possible.
–David Ogilvy

What a cool philosophy.

Somehow, humor has a way of rewiring your brain. It carries amazing power and can build bridges to breakthrough ideas.

Creativity and comedy are driven by the same engine: the connection of two unrelated things.

But the pressure to be “professional” often crushes originality. You know those meetings. The atmosphere gets hushed and heavy and everyone sounds like a policy handbook.

That’s why the boardroom needs more playground. Sometimes you’ve got to let things fly.

Or to use a metaphor, just sit on the whoopee cushion. Stop marching in straight lines and start doing some parkour.

Being playful sets your brain on a different neural pathway, helping you avoid the traffic jams of traditional logic. There’s a short distance between absurd and brilliant.

So, the next time you’re in a Very Serious Meeting about Very Important Things, lean into the silly. Start with the phrase, “Wouldn’t it be hilarious if…”

See where your brain takes you.

The answer may come disguised as nonsense.

The power of a fresh start.

This time of year, we’re all thinking about New Year's resolutions.

Maybe it’s shedding a few pounds. Or reading more. Maybe backing off the sugar or salt.

But while small habits are keys to success, timing is really the secret weapon.

I recently read about the best day to start a new habit. And you might be surprised.

What’s your guess?

If you're thinking Sunday, nope. Not even Monday.

According to experts, the best day is… Wednesday.

Yep, the forgettable, humble middle day.

Apparently, it feels less demanding. Studies show perfectionism drops midweek, so a Wednesday kickoff makes change more doable.

Like easing into a warm bath instead of a cold plunge.

Starting in the middle also taps into the week’s momentum. You're swapping a paddle for a waterslide.

Plus, getting a few tiny wins before the weekend builds confidence, which reinforces the habit. By Saturday, you've already got three or four days under your belt. That's a streak.

And streaks are powerful motivators.

Don't wait for the perfect Monday. Start messy.

Start mid-stride.

For many years, we’ve hosted a family Christmas party.

A cornerstone of our holiday season, this includes locals and out-of-town loved ones. When at full strength, we’re about 25 strong.

The house hums with energy when everyone finally gathers under one roof. Over the years, we’ve watched kids grow from toddlers to teenagers (and beyond).

Tonight was the 2025 version.

After the group visited McKenzie and Will’s new home, we came back to our place for BBQ dinner, a fun game, the Santa Gift Swap, a solo (from my niece, Savannah), and an upstairs scary story in the dark (including spooky sound effects).

We capped it off with desserts, and the conversations lingered to nearly midnight.

These are evenings we’ll always remember.

Christmas walks.

Each holiday season, we sprinkle in a couple of these between the gift-giving and leftovers.

On Christmas night, we walked to the end of our neighborhood and witnessed a spectacular home light display. This year, it won best in our city.

Tonight, as we gathered in Norfolk, twenty-one of us strolled downtown by the USS Wisconsin.

She’s a monster.

Launched in 1943 and built for speed and power. Among the fastest battleships ever to sail, she served in World War II, the Korean War, and the Gulf War.

But today this mighty vessel is retired and berthed just a few blocks away from Mia and Papa’s home. And the city has wrapped her in colorful lights.

That’s 887 feet of twinkle. Or two football fields placed end to end.

A warship now carries light. A titan of combat, radiating peace.

Hmmm… feels like the perfect image of Christmas.

Two.

That’s where it started in 1998, our first Christmas as a family. We had been married for nine months.

By 2000, we had grown to three.
By 2002, four.
By 2004, five.
By 2006, six.
By 2013, seven.
By 2024, eight.

And 2026 promises the addition of another to our crew.

Each year, December 25th brings me perspective, plus a long list of gratitude. The undeserved blessings have piled up fast.

Yet, for all this counting, the Christmas math is really simple. It always circles back to just one.

The one swaddled in a manger. Heaven meeting hay.

The gift no calculator can measure.