It is a rare thing for my wife to ever post anything on Facebook, so it really caught my attention when I saw what she announced on her wall this week:
“Thank you, Nae Nae Little Angel Gowns, for turning my wedding dress into something beautiful for families who have lost an infant. For all of those who have a wedding dress or other formal gown just hanging in the closet, you can donate your dress to Nae Nae Little Angel Gowns and they will turn it into a beautiful blessing. I dropped my dress off about a week ago and she has already turned my dress into several infant gowns. Thanks for letting me be a part of this, Nae Nae Little Angel Gowns!”
A year after we got married 8 years ago, we helped our friend Joe Hendricks of Joe Hendricks Photography out by posing as models for his wedding collection to show to future clients. In the process, my wife’s dress got dirt stains on it as we ran through a vineyard.
But she didn’t care since she knew the dress would just be sitting in a closet for decades for no practical reason anyway. And those post-wedding photos turned out much better than our actual wedding photos.
My wife is not the kind of person who is okay with things just sitting in the house, taking up space; which is was the dress has been doing this whole time.
We are so happy that the dress could be donated to Nae Nae Little Angel Gowns. I’m grateful my wife was able to learn about this, and now, I present you with the same opportunity.
If this might be something you’d be interested in doing, or at least curious about, simply reach out to Nae Nae Little Angel Gowns on Facebook and just let her know you heard about her service through Family Friendly Daddy Blog.
After leaving Saturday morning at 5:30 AM from our home in Spring Hill, Tennessee, and having a few adventures in between, we finally made it to Fort Payne, Alabama, about 13 hours later; where Nonna and Papa live.
The next afternoon, we loaded up for our final stop on our 1st father and son road trip. Nonna and Papa joined us in the Lexus ES; while Uncle Andrew and your cousin Calla followed us in their Toyota Highlander.
On route to the hiking spot, I made a quick detour to show you the little brick house I grew up in, until I was a high school freshman in 1995 when the “new house” (which serves as your summer camp headquarters for the week) was built.
Just a few miles away was the DeSoto State Park, where we began our journey down the Azalea Cascade Trail.
I chose for you to go on this trail as a way to keep you from having to take a nap: In the afternoons, you get way too much energy if you don’t sleep; so I catered to your needs by providing an agenda and landscape for you:
It was a long, strenuous trail for the likes of a 5 and a half year-old boy. I was very pleased with the results.
You encountered a wall of a hill…
A treacherous bridge…
And a giant rock or two for us to climb together.
Perhaps one of your favorite parts of the trail was when you amazingly found a baby slug that you took along for a leg of the hike.
About 15 minutes later, you declared, “Daddy, it’s time for me to part ways with Sluggy.”
And so you did.
I helped you find a nice place in the grass for him to hang out.
Hiking that trail with you showed me what you’re capable of for next time!
I figured it would be a good idea for you and your cousin to cool down by playing at the playground across from where we parked the Lexus ES.
It just so happens, the playground equipment company Papa has worked for since 1979 made and installed the equipment the two of you played on.
From there, we got cleaned up and got ready for your goodbye dinner at the Thai restaurant…
Love,
Daddy
P.S.
Here’s the collection of stories from our father and son road trip…
This past Sunday you not only turned 13 weeks old, but you also turned 3 months old! Granted, I wasn’t there with you, since you and Mommy have been spending the week in California while Mommy is finishing up maternity leave.
I’m happy that everyone in Sacramento got to meet you and spend time with you this week, but I’ve definitely been ready to get you back home.
Mommy texted me a couple of days ago to announce the great news that you rolled over on your tummy for the first time! My first thought was how I wish I could have been there to see it, but then I remembered:
Even if you and Mommy would have been here in Tennessee like normal, I still wouldn’t have been able to witness it because I would have been at work.
Oh well, I know that once you get home , I’ll be able to see you roll over plenty!
Mommy also texted me that you are now 25 inches long. You are growing up fast.
The thing I’m most curious about right now is whether or not you’re going to have red hair, as it currently appears to be the case…
I know your brother Jack is really looking forward to seeing you again as well. When he and I went to the movies last weekend, he took one of your outgrown dresses and put it on one of his stuffed animals, calling the panda bear “Baby.”
During both movies, he held Baby tightly and she was wrapped up in a blanket, as Jack treated her like an actual baby.
Whether or not he realizes it, I do: Sometimes he subconsciously pretends his stuffed animals are you.
Jack and I will be so glad to have you and Mommy back home.
Right before we crossed over from Mentone to Fort Payne, Alabama, I surprised you by parking the Lexus ES 300h at an old church that is built around a giant rock; which is named Sallie Howard Memorial Chapel.
It was built back in 1937, when Colonel Milford Howard constructed the chapel as a memorial to his wife. And equally interesting is the fact his ashes are inside the rock itself, as his sort of burial place.
Another fascinating thing about “Howard’s Chapel” is that the doors are never locked. That means that travelling passersby from DeSoto State Park can visit it at their convenience. This fact is openly promoted on the sign.
A couple Christmases back, I took you there with Uncle Andrew and Papa. However, you told me you don’t remember that.
So it was like a brand new experience for you this time. I believe I was about your age when I first became aware of this chapel.
It’s such a rare thing- to be able to walk inside an old church with a giant rock inside, which contains the builder’s ashes. Seriously, how many people can say they actually have been there and seen the inside?
I bet most people have never even heard of it, outside of my hometown. It’s just so tucked away.
You were obviously fascinated. I’m sure it seemed like a bizarre dream to you. But it was all real… I was there too with you.
And to think, I just grew up a few miles from there.
The next stop on our father and son trip: The Azalea Trail at DeSoto State Park. But first, on the way there, I decided it would be cool to show you that little brick house I grew up in… coming up next.
Love,
Daddy
P.S.
Here’s the collection of stories from our father and son road trip…
I guess there’s more than one way to be a bad vegan. The first that comes to mind is one that “cheats”, by promoting the plant-based life to others, while sneaking in bites of chicken nuggets and dollar menu burgers.
However, I can confidently confirm that I have never intentionally “slipped up”. To my knowledge, I have not consumed any animal products since April 2013, nor any meat since December 2011. I have remained ever faithful to my alternative lifestyle choice.
The second idea that comes to mind when I think of a “bad vegan” is someone who is overzealous and appears to be judgmental of those who do not share their same strict values; eager to convert the rest of the world, especially through offensive images and stories of guilt and animal cruelty.
I admit, that was me for about a month after my conversion. I am still embarrassed by some of the memes I created for my Facebook page back in the summer of 2013.
But I got over my zealot stage, realizing that even if I could legitimately convince the world that eating animal products is unnecessary, it still would never matter.
Because for most people, the information I know and live by is not enough to change their minds or hearts.
I have accepted the reality that people continue to eat animals products because A) they think they need to in order to get enough protein or proper nutrition, B) they fear escaping the social norm, B) it’s more convenient, C) it’s an emotional tradition, and/or D) they simply like it.
After all, I’m a proud Libertarian (who’s not voting for Trump or Clinton). Since embarrassing myself on Facebook 3 summers ago, I have embraced my fundamental Liberation beliefs:
Sit back and watch other people make their own decisions. If they decide what they are doing is not working for them, they will get curious enough to ask someone else who seems to have things figured out.
I was so proud this weekend when a high school friend approached me about how to transition to a vegan lifestyle, as he is tired of digestion issues and being overweight.
He has an open mind about the plant-based life. He doesn’t let his preconceived ideas get in the way of making a positive change in his life. But he doesn’t represent the majority, as I’ve learned and accepted.
With that being said, here’s how I’m like the worst vegan ever:
I openly encourage the free world to eat whatever they want, since I can’t.
When someone brings donuts to work, I make sure everyone knows about it, proclaiming, “Hey, go get a donut or two, because you can. I’m a vegan, so that means someone needs to take my share; otherwise, that donut will just go stale.”
It usually makes the person laugh, followed by them going to get two donuts.
I also try to help people decide what to eat on their lunch break. When I go by other guys’ desks, I’ll suggest, “You know, you could totally go by Wendy’s for lunch and get a big cheesy burger. I can’t since I’m a vegan, but you should!”
And they know I’m not being sarcastic. They know me well enough to realize that if I wasn’t keeping my eczema, acne, headaches, sinus infections, sinus pressure, and pet allergies in complete remission by remaining committed to the vegan lifestyle, I never would have converted.
I would still be the world’s most passionate carnivore!
Perhaps it’s my way of living vicariously through them. I remind them they have the freedom and ability to eat whatever they want, whereas I no longer do.
But by doing so, in sort of a backwards unspoken way, I am reminding them that I am there to help them if they ever get curious about getting healthy.
Gone are the days of trying to convince other people to live the plant-based life with me (except for my own family, that’s a whole different story) .
Instead, I point mainstream society in the other direction; the direction they are already going. They know where to find me if they need me.
I think that sort of makes me the worst vegan ever.
