Happy New Year

My last column of 2011:

Happy New You

Published: Wednesday, December 28, 2011 9:40 AM CST

I love the tradition of making New Year’s resolutions. One year, back when I was a teenager, I resolved to stop using the word “smurf” as a verb. I have say, I really smurfed that one out of the park. Another year, I vowed to drop “cornucopia” from my vocabulary. I survived by substituting “plethora” in its place. Don’t even get me started on the year I promised to stop saying the word “fixin’,” as in, “I’m fixin’ to go fix me a turkey dinner with all the fixin’s.” As you can imagine, that was a pretty tough one to stick to, but I somehow I managed.

Most New Year’s resolutions are slightly more meaningful. We’ve all vowed to eat better and exercise more. Some of us have promised to give up a bad habit such as drinking, smoking, or cursing. A few of us have sworn to build our sons treehouses. I put that one in writing on December 30, 2006. You may recall that I finally fulfilled that promise just a few weeks ago.

The beauty of making New Year’s resolutions is that it gives us an opportunity to reinvent ourselves. If we have become less than satisfied with who we have become over the past 365 days, we can hit a reset button and start over on January 1. The following is an excerpt from my blog written on January 1, 2009:

“I love to reinvent myself each year. I make resolutions that help to redefine who I am. It’s almost like creating a character in a story. I can write my character to be however I want. In years past I have changed my character from a shallow, self-centered drunk to a caring father and husband who writes a ridiculous blog. Last year, my character was a mostly tragic figure beginning with the death of my beloved dog Jake on January 10 and ending with the death of my dear mother on December 30. This year, my character will be a comic figure. I resolve to play the role of an unemployed philosopher who is writing his first book and blogging about his adventures as a stay at home dad. He is a man who makes people laugh wherever he goes. He doesn’t take himself too seriously and when life gets messy, he just rolls with it rather than feel sorry for himself. When people are around him, they can’t help but smile. He lives to make others happy, which in turn makes him happy. He treats his wife and kids with love and respect. He rarely gets angry and when he does he gets over it quickly and never holds a grudge. He spends more time with his friends no matter how far away they live and no matter how high gas prices get because he understands how fleeting life is and how few opportunities we have to spend time with those we care about. Guys want to be him and girls want to be with him. He is Magnum P.I., Cosmo Kramer, and Buddy the Elf all wrapped up into one irresistible, enigmatic, and ridiculous character. This is the character I have always wanted to play…”

How did I do with that resolution/reinvention? Well, I wrote and published that first book. I turned my blog about being a stay-at-home dad into this column. I continue to try to make people laugh. I am good to my wife and kids and friends. I guess you could say, I really smurfed that one out of the park.

Happy New You!

My Take on Albert Pujols

Living on $69,589 (or $2.67) a day

Published: Wednesday, December 14, 2011 9:40 AM CST

I don’t get out much. Living in the sticks forces me to limit my excursions to civilization in order to conserve gas, so often times the only contact I have with people not related to me occurs when I go to pick Truman up at preschool. I enjoy visiting with the stay-at-home moms who gather outside the classroom each day very much, but sometimes I yearn for an opportunity to talk about “guy stuff” such as sports and cars and flatulence.

That is why I was thrilled this morning when one of the moms broached the subject of Albert Pujols. The all-star first baseman who thrilled the fans of the St. Louis Cardinals for the last eleven years broke the hearts of those same fans last week when he accepted an offer to play for the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim. The Redbirds offered King Albert a ten year deal worth around $210 million, but the slugger opted to take the ten year, 254 million dollar deal offered by a team with a fan base who has not lived and died with every swing of his mighty bat for the last decade. While Albert claims that his decision to move on was not about the money, it is hard for Cards fans to accept the implication that our adoration and the organization’s $21 million per year was not enough to convince him to remain a Redbird for life.

I am not mad at Albert Pujols for leaving. I am disappointed in him sure, but I am more disappointed in myself for investing so much of my heart and soul and time and money in supporting him so fervently over the past eleven years. My oldest child Alex is eleven, and I am beginning to realize how much time I wasted watching a complete stranger play a game while my own son patiently waited for his dad to give him a little attention. That’s a pretty sobering realization.

One of the other moms involved in our conversation had a vague notion of who Pujols is, but admitted she didn’t even know his first name. At first I wondered if she had been living under a rock, but then I realized that this was a person who had her priorities in order. She said she didn’t own a Cardinals ball cap, but the more she thought about it, she actually didn’t want one. Instead, she wanted a cap with the number 3 on it. When I asked her why, she said, “Because of my three kids.” Priorities.

$254,000,000.00. The moms and I tried to wrap our heads around the concept of any one man earning that much money. The calculator on my iphone tells me that Mr. Pujols will receive $69,589 every day for the next ten years of his life. I guess he didn’t think he could survive on the $57,534 per day that St. Louis was willing to give him. My wife gives me a monthly allowance of $80 (which she labels in our budget as “Trav’s Fun Money”) for doing the housework and performing the duties of being a stay-at-home parent. That’s my walkin’ around money, my going out with my friends once in a blue moon money. That amounts to $2.67 per day. $2.67 for the privilege of raising three wonderful children. I should probably pay to have that privilege. (Don’t tell my wife that.)

I think I’ll save up some of my allowance for a new hat. One with the number 3 on it.

Princess Naughton

By Travis Naughton

Published: Wednesday, December 7, 2011 9:48 AM CST

My daughter Tiana is not the first princess to be adopted by the Naughton family.

Six years ago, following a visit to Bethany’s family’s farm, we brought home a Saint Bernard named Princess.

My wife, the Voice of Reason, apparently had taken the day off. I know this because Bethany the Enabler acquiesced to my desire to adopt the one year old dog without protest.

Her only question: “She isn’t going to get any bigger is she?”

“Of course not,” I lied. Most dogs are done growing by the time they are a year old, but not giant-breeds.

Tipping the scales at a mere 45 pounds, Princess weighed a fraction of what most Saints do by age one.

Of course she was going to get bigger. Much bigger.

Within three months of bringing her home, Princess’s weight doubled. Our veterinarian, the lovely and talented Dr. Patti Cuddihee, cautioned me that perhaps I didn’t need to give our new pet six cups of food per day.

I’ll admit that I may have been overcompensating a little. You see, Princess had had a rough first year, and I was determined to make up for it.

Her life began in December of 2004 as the runt of a litter of thirteen puppies. Strike one.

Before she had even opened her eyes, she ventured over to her mother’s water bowl, fell in, and drowned. Strike two.

When Bethany’s step-mother found her, the puppy was cold and unresponsive. By all rights she was dead. Without knowing how long the poor creature had been gone, Helen decided to try to revive her.

She administered mouth-to-mouth resuscitation and believe it or not, it actually worked. But the puppy had suffered brain damage, as was evidenced by the fact that she was completely paralyzed. Strike three.

Not willing to give up on the pathetic pup, Helen took her in the house (the other dogs lived in the barn) and began to nurse her back to health. She and her children took turns bottle feeding the dog they had by then named Princess.

The kids also cleaned out her kennel and encouraged her to move her limbs.

The pup was a fighter, and no one was surprised when she started to move her front legs one cold day in December.

Bethany, Alex, and I were introduced to Princess when we came to visit for Christmas a few weeks later. She was adorable, but unable to move her back legs or stand.

I remember wondering what would become of the handicapped puppy in the kennel. Perhaps a Christmas miracle would save her.

One year later, as we returned to the farm again for Christmas, several dogs followed us from one barn to another as the kids showed off their prized sheep, cows, and goats.

Helen leaned down to pet a dog and asked, “Of course you remember Princess, don’t you?” I said that I did not. “She was living in the house last year when you were here,” she continued. “The one that couldn’t stand or walk.”

Princess had made an amazing recovery in the year since we last saw her. She not only stood and walked, but she could run, albeit with a decidedly awkward gait.

With her enormous tongue, jowls, and ears flapping in the wind as she ran, Princess was the goofiest-looking lummox of a dog I had ever seen. She was beautiful.

Then Helen said, “You know we can’t sell her because she’s not up to breed standards, and we don’t want to give her away to just anyone. Would you like to have her?”

“Well, as long as she doesn’t get any bigger.” Wink, wink.

Princess has been a member of our family ever since. Believe you me: Miracles really do happen this time of year.

Giving Thanks

By Travis Naughton

Published: Wednesday, November 23, 2011 9:36 AM CST

When I was a kid, Christmas was always my favorite holiday. Now that I’m older and people are less inclined to give me toys as gifts, Thanksgiving has become my favorite day of the year. If Valentine’s Day was concocted for the benefit of women (and the diamond, greeting card, and floral industries), then Thanksgiving must have been invented for men. Only on that most special of days can men be forgiven for eating three or four platefuls of the most satisfying and calorie-rich comfort food on Earth, watching up to nine hours of football on TV, and cat-napping on the sofa as their wives wash dishes and put away leftovers. Don’t try to get away with that on any other day of the year, fellas. It won’t work out well for you. Trust me.

Thanksgiving is of course more than just an excuse to be a gluttonous-sloth. To me, it is all about family. Rather than feeling pressured to come up with the perfect gift for that third-cousin you only see once a year, as is often the case at Christmastime, Thanksgiving is about spending time with those relatives, visiting with them, and getting to know them better. And sometimes they bring wine—lots of wine if you’re lucky—with them. That’s a nice bonus.

Thanksgiving has been cast into a new light for me this year. While I have always tried to remember to take a moment on this holiday to express my thankfulness for the family that I have, sometimes the copious amounts of turkey gravy and televised football distract me from that priority. Not this year. Not since my daughter Tiana came into my life.

Having spent her first seven years of life in a Chinese orphanage, Tiana has no concept of the holiday we call Thanksgiving. But she knows exactly what “family” means. As her English proficiency has improved over the course of the four months since we adopted her, Tiana is able to articulate some of her memories from her time at the institution. The other night as I tucked my daughter in bed, she looked at me with her sweet and innocent brown eyes and quietly said the following:

“Tiana…um…in China…uh…no mommy. No daddy. No Alex. No Truman. No lau-lau (grandmother).”

I didn’t know what to say. Then she continued, “Tiana sad.”

I had to take a minute to compose myself before I could speak. “No, you didn’t have a mommy or a daddy or brothers or a grandma in China, but you do now and we all love you very much. We’re your family now, and we always will be. Forever and ever. I promise.” Then I kissed her goodnight and went in the next room and told Bethany what she’d said.

Bethany and Tiana had apparently had the same conversation the previous evening, during which Tiana said that she used to cry when she thought about not having a mommy—about not having a family.

For me, Thanksgiving will never be about food and football again. It will always be about family. I’ve lived forty years knowing that I have a family who loves me and will always love me no matter what. I simply cannot imagine what it must have been like for that precious little girl to lie awake night after night for seven long years, crying herself to sleep, and wishing for nothing else in the world but for a family to love her.

Well, her wish came true, and so did ours. For that, you can bet that on this Thanksgiving Day, we will all be very thankful indeed.

Writer's Block...of Wood

http://www.bocojo.com/articles/2011/11/16/opinion/doc4ec3d6da35f0b215269145.txt

Trophy Husband

Here's today's column. Enjoy!

Barbie Boy

Here is another of my recent columns that I forgot to post to my blog initially.

10-26-11

New Column

For Ben, and the other three people in the world not on Facebook, here is my latest column. Enjoy!

http://www.bocojo.com/articles/2011/11/03/opinion/doc4eb15457142e5811201969.txt

New Column

I forget that not everyone is on facebook or has a subscription to the Boone County Journal, two places where my weekly column appears. So here is the link to this week's installment for you Blogger folks. Enjoy!

http://www.bocojo.com/articles/2011/10/19/opinion/doc4e9ede4ea5856750649730.txt

My Latest Column

My most recent column appeared in this week's Boone County Journal as part of a 9/11 commemorative spread instead of the opinion section (there's no link to it on the Journal's website.) For those of you who don't subscribe to the paper, I've pasted the article below:

I woke up on the morning of September 11, 2001 giddy with anticipation. My 30th birthday would be exactly two weeks later and I was busy planning a party to end all parties. Then, the unspeakable happened. Four hijacked planes and thousands of tragic deaths later, plans to celebrate the anniversary of my arrival in this now terrifying world were immediately discarded. Suddenly a party that only minutes earlier was a rite of passage and a good excuse for acting like a fool seemed foolish and grossly inappropriate.

I left work not long after the second tower of the World Trade Center collapsed knowing there was no way I could make sales calls while the chaos of the day’s events were still unfolding. I went home and turned on my TV. The images I saw that day are permanently etched into my memory. I am sure that is the case for you, too. One particular image is still so painful to recall that I hesitate to write about it. However, I believe I recall this image so vividly because I was meant to write about it.

An anonymous firefighter, one of the many true heroes of that horrific day, walked swiftly past a camera crew in lower Manhattan carrying something in his weary, ash-covered arms. While most eyes were trained on the debris and smoke blocking out the sun, my focus shifted to the bundle in the first-responder’s embrace. I became physically ill when I realized that it was the lifeless body of a very young child—a child that appeared to be almost exactly the same age as my own son Alex.

My child was at daycare that morning, happily oblivious to the tragedy befalling our country. I thought about going to pick him up early so that I could hold him and reassure myself that the world was not ending, but realizing how lucky he was to be so happily oblivious at that time I decided to let him enjoy his day with his friends.

Then I realized that mine was not the only birthday celebration the Naughton family had been planning. Alex would be turning one year old just a week after I turned 30—just three weeks after the terrorist attacks of that morning. Somehow, despite the darkness that had descended upon our nation that day, Bethany and I would have to pull ourselves together and make Alex’s big day the best of his young life. We would deal with raising a child in the Age of Terror later.

It occurred to me while watching my son stuff chocolate birthday cake into his cute, little ears at his party that as long as American families were willing and able to come together to make the next generation’s special moments the best they could be, the terrorists would never win.

How can parents help America win the War on Terror? By teaching our children that no matter how determined some evil people are to change the way we live, we must be more determined to live our lives the way we choose. We cannot let the actions of a few maniacs cause us to live in fear. We cannot allow a madman on the other side of the world to influence how we raise our children. We must carry on with our lives in honor of those who lost theirs that day and in the ten years since.

And we must not cancel our birthday parties, even during our darkest times. Life is a precious gift and a birthday party is a celebration of that life. I can attest that the expression of unbridled joy on a toddler’s face while he coats his entire head with chocolate frosting on his first birthday, just three weeks after the attacks of 9/11, is a glorious affirmation that America has already won the War on Terror.

Support Your Local Columnist

I know, I know. Why buy the cow if the milk's free? If I keep posting links to my column for you to read on my blog for free, then why would you ever buy the paper? Well, if you live in Ashland or Hartsburg, or if you just want to read my ramblings the good old-fashioned way in ink, then you'd be supporting a privately owned small business AND yours truly. Subscriptions are only $15/year for the Boone County Journal, so order yours today--and tell 'em Travis sent you!

http://www.bocojo.com/articles/2011/08/03/opinion/doc4e395e3bcbb33627656492.txt

Settling In

Sorry to leave you hanging for the last few days, but a severe case of jet lag has left me with precious little energy for writing. Tiana is adjusting well to her new home. I wrote about her actual moment of homecoming for my newspaper column which will be published this Wednesday. Suffice it to say that her reaction brought tears to my eyes. You've never seen a happier kid. Ever. All of us are adjusting to life as a family of five, and of course there are moments of disharmony now and then, but all-in-all, I can't complain. Tiana is an amazing girl and aside from Truman's occasional temper tantrums, the three siblings are getting along well. Life in the Naughton house is as normal as it will ever be.

In addition to my column, I wrote a feature article for the newspaper that will appear in next week's edition about my observations of China. It points out a few of the differences between our two countries and the ways this small town boy was affected by being surrounded by a billion and a half people. Also, I plan on revising my book Naked Snow Angels in the coming weeks in advance of releasing a second edition called Naked Snow Angels 2.0--Now With Fewer Typos! (Or something like that.) Plans are in the works for a book reading/signing event to be held at the Ashland branch of the Daniel Boone Regional Library sometime in November. And today, I received two royalty checks in the mail from Amazon for the copies that sold in May and June. Thank you to everyone who has supported me as my writing career has begun to take off. Who knows how far it will go from here, but I know that with the support of my family and friends, I'll always feel like a success.

Flinal Blog post from China

It's 11:00 on this Wednesday night in Guangzhou. I am happy to say that it is our last night in China, having spent the previous 14 nights in this country cooped up in a hotel with three bored kids who have a desperate need to get back into a daily routine at home. For a time, China was home to two of the members of our family, but it has never felt like home to me. I have tolerated the sensation of claustrophobia while being swallowed up by the throngs of people who crowd every sidewalk, restaurant, park, and street, but I have reached my threshold. I'm a country mouse who is content living in a very sparsely populated corner of the world, completely opposite of the world full of city mice I've been visiting for the past two weeks. In our two trips to China, the smallest city we stayed in had a population of 6 million people. That city is Nanning, which is where we got Truman two and a half years ago. Harbin, where we got Tiana, has 10 million inhabitants. Guangzhou, where we are now, has 12 million, and Beijing has 20 million. To put it into perspective, New York City would only be fourth on that list. And most of the people there speak English. Well, at least half do.

Tomorrow, we'll be on our way home--for a full 24 hours. The kids, and especially Tiana, will test my patience throughout the journey, but by 9:00pm Thursday in Hartsburg, MO (10:00am Friday in China), the never-ending flight, the crowds, the language barrier, the relentless stares by curious Chinese everywhere we have been, and the feeling of complete isolation despite being surrounded by millions of people will instantly vanish as we walk Tiana up the stairs of her new home and into the beginning of a new chapter in all of our lives.

I'll be back on facebook Friday (without the help of my cousin Larry Barr, who has been doing a great job of converting my emails to blog/facebook posts for the past two weeks--THANK YOU, CUZ!!!) so I can respond to your comments finally. We really appreciate all your words of encouragement and support. Thank you all!

Finally, here's the link to my latest newspaper column in today's Boone County Journal. Enjoy!

Girl in motion

Here's a video to illustrate how animated Tiana is. She's a Naughton alright!

Saturday in Guangzhou

Today was literally a walk down memory lane. Everywhere we went reminded us of our journey to adopt Truman two and a half years ago. Same hotel. Same city park. Same medical center for the kids' examinations. Same souvenier shops on Shamian Island. Same guide (Simon). Same Starbucks. But not everything is the same. We met two other American families who are going through the adoption process who are wonderful people, but we miss the families we befriended here back in 2008. (Lisa, I let the kids ride the escalators in the hotel just for fun in honor of Avery.)

Tiana was pretty good today, but when she gets bored--she is a rotten Naughton. It is hard to keep someone who doesn't understand a word you're saying entertained, but we're trying. As an exaspirated Bethany just said after putting the kids to bed a moment ago, "Someone must think we can handle these three kids!"

Travel day from hell

Things have been going so well here that I should have known we were due for a day like we had on Friday. As sweet as Tiana is, she is equally as rotten when bored. Imagine sitting next to a seven year old girl who loudy moaned in feigned agony for half of the five hour flight to Guangzhou. Just as my nerves thought they couldn't take any more and just as the captain said to stay seated in preparation for landing, my precious little angel began repeating the phrase "la ba" which means "get me to the crapper" in Chinese. We thought she might have been crying wolf, because before we even got on the plane, she said "niow, niow" (I have to pee) three times in 20 minutes while sitting in the terminal. Apparently she thinks it's fun to make her new parents scramble to find a pisser whenever she gets bored. Well, our hunch on the plane was right. When mama found a bethroom in the airport, Princess Tiana miraculously did not have to poop at all.

The ride to the hotel was uneventful, with the exception of watching Tiana upchuck all over herself due to car sickness. I thanked her for not warning us. I praised her for ralphing in a reclined position, making sure to cover her shirt and pants in puke. A few minutes later in the hotel lobby, she started pleading "niow niow" again, with a smile on her face and vomit covering her entire ensemble. The hotel messed up our reservations, putting our two rooms on two seperate floors, so Bethany spent over a half hour getting a new room on the same floor as the other. During this time, the kids were all bored and exhausted from a full day of travel. The boys started arguing loudly in the lobby of the five-star hotel. Tiana picked her nose and made a grandiose production of eating it in front of all the hotel guests waiting patiently in the registration line behind Bethany. When I scolded our not-so-lady-like daughter, she laughed and ran over to a sitting area, grabbed a table lamp, and tried to yank it to the floor. Finally, we headed up to our rooms. The key cards didn't work in the new one, so we waited in grandma's room for the bell hop to bring a new key. When we eventually did get in, we discovered that our non-smoking room reeked of cigarettes and cheap perfume. (I didn't bother to look for the dead hooker.) It nearly made our eyes water. When Bethany went to the front desk to complain and get yet another new room, the only one available was three floors below grandma's. We took it and went to bed harried, exhausted, and in my case ready to snap.

Today is a new day. Tiana is singing "Happy Birthday" in English. The kids are all rested and in a good mood. I don't feel like killing people. I'll post an update about our first full day in Guangzhou later today. Hopefully, it will be much better than yesterday. It couldn't get much worse--could it?!

Last full day in Harbin

Thursday was the last full day of our stay in the northeast of China. Friday afternoon we will fly south to Guangzhou, which is near Hong Kong. Guangzhou is where Tiana will receive a medical check-up and her travel visa to immigrate to the U.S. She will also take the U.S. citizenship oath! One week from today, we will finally be home. (The poor girl thinks we live in the hotel.)

I've included a picture of the hotel at night, which is located on the bank of a major river. Another photo shows a tour boat house illuminated just down the street from the hotel. We visited the biggest Russian Orthodox church of the East today, also pictured, which is now a museum. And as you can see by the other pictures, Tiana and her family are getting along great. My favorite Chinese phrases are; "Qing qing Baba" (cheeng cheeng baba) which means "I want to give you a kiss daddy" and "Wo ai ni" (woh eye knee) which means "I love you." Music to my ears.

Thursday - Keeping it simple

My latest column in Wednesday's Boone County Journal.

Wednesday in Harbin

While you were sleeping, the Naughton family visited a children's science museum in Harbin. Tiana and her brothers laughed and played for hours until their exhausted parents and grandmother waved the white flag of surrender. During the van ride home, Tiana and Alex took turns cracking each other up by imitating one another. This little girl is a real comedian and she is smart as a whip, too. She's already picked up several English words and understands almost everything we ask her to do. She even made a point to tell our interpreter (without being asked) that we communicate well with each other.

This girl is amazing. She hasn't cried once or thrown any temper tantrums (although she does like to test her boundaries.) Even when she is being corrected, she can't help but smile and give kisses. (Which does have a considerable affect on the one scolding her.) Every time her awkward gait causes her to fall down, she just laughs and hops right back up. After living in a communist-run orphanage for seven years, Tiana would have every reason to be a sad and pathetic child, but this little girl's spirit is the brightest I've ever seen in another human being. I am simply in awe of her. We all are. And you will be too.

Worth Five Thousand Words

Daddy's Girl!!!

At about 11:00 this morning, I became a father to the sweetest little girl in the eastern world. When she walked into the room where her new family awaited her, my heart skipped a beat and I instantly fell in love. Head over heals. We introduced ourselves, shared hugs and kisses, and posed for pictures. Then, Tian Tian came up to me, smiled, softly whispered "baba" (Chinese for daddy), and reached out for me to pick her up. I melted. Later, as we ate room service rice and noodles back at the hotel, I served my little princess a second helping of rice. She smiled and said, "Xie xie baba." (Thanks daddy) in such a contented tone that it seemed we had known each other and loved each other all our lives. Mama gave her a bath after lunch and then Tian Tian lay down beside me in bed and fell asleep in my arms. No, it does NOT get any better than that my friends.

Alex, Truman, and Grandma Glee all love her as much as her mama and I do, too. The Chinese officials are giving us a 24 hour period to bond and decide for sure if we want to go through with the adoption although we knew the moment we saw her that Tian Tian (Tiana) belongs with us--and always has. I'll write more tomorrow. In the meantime, dig these pictures. Pretty awesome, huh?

Sunday - Change of Scenery

We left Beijing and her 20 million inhabitants this morning and arrived in the cozy little river town of Harbin in the northeastern province of Heilongjiang at about noon. Okay, so it's not exactly a little town. The population here is 10 million, making it more populous than any city in the United States, yet it is only the 8th biggest in China. And this country boy got a teeny bit overwhelmed during our first foray into the streets.

After a white knuckle van ride from the airport to the hotel, I nearly got down on my hands and knees and kissed the filthy pavement when we were finally out of the chaotic city traffic. Our guide told us that in this formerly Soviet-controlled area, we would look like Russians to the locals and we would probably be spoken to as such. She pointed out a nearby Walmart, said she'd see us Monday morning to take us to our new child, and then she split--leaving us to fend for ourselves in a very strange land. We ventured out of the hotel within an hour or so and tried to find some Russians to blend in with. No luck. Here we stand out like...well, we stand out like four Americans with a flamboyant Chinese boy in tow wandering aimlessly in a sea of black-haired, extremely curious Asians. People here don't try to hide the fact that they are checking us out. They stare at us like we're walking around on fire. A young woman at McDonald's (yes we gave in to the temptation of a taste of home) stared at me unflinchingly the entire time we were eating. People snapped pictures of Alex the fair-haired rock star again. We are fish out of water and are treated as such.

Walmart here is at least three stories high. It took us five minutes just to figure out how to even get in the store. We rode the escalator in circles trying to figure out where the milk was (we never found it). A male employee followed us around and stared at us with great suspicion, trying to figure out if we had just kidnapped Truman or something. And the crowds! Imagine going to the morning after Thanksgiving "Black Friday" sales in the U.S. and multiply the chaos by a thousand. I went into full sensory overload and nearly freaked completely out while searching desperately for the poorly marked exit. I virtually sprinted out the door as I fought my way past the throngs of prying eyes and flying elbows.

We're hunkered down in the hotel now. It is a Russian-designed place situated on the banks of a large river. We may venture out again this evening to take in the sights along the shore when the place is lit up for the night. I should be more relaxed by then. I'm pretty sure I spotted a Harbin Brewery beer tent across the street as I ran to the hotel earlier. And tomorrow, all the insanity will be forgotten, or at least rendered insignificant when we get to meet Princess Naughton at 10:00am. I can't wait!

Saturday in Beijing

When we last visited Beijing, the 2008 Olympics had just concluded. Drivers were only allowed to use their vehicles every other day in order to make the world think China had clean air. I'm here to tell you: They do not. The smog is so thick here that the sun is only a faint orb at noontime. And the tops of the relatively small mountains where the Great Wall is situated are invisible. But we wouldn't let a little pollution prevent us from enjoying the Wall and the Forbidden City. My eyes are still burning, but it was worth it.

First we scaled the steepest part of the Wall just outside of Beijing--in 90 degree weather. Alex and I were the only two to make it to the top out of our group. (The others had more sense than us and turned around about halfway up the ridiculously steep stairs.) But the hazy view was worth the effort. Several people asked to have their picture taken with Alex during our ascent. Light colored hair is seen so rarely here that people can't believe their eyes when they see someone like Alex with his reddish, light-brown locks. Several more Chinese tourists had their pictures taken with him in Tianenmen Square, too. He said he felt like a rock star.

The Forbidden City has nearly 9,000 rooms in dozens of buildings covering 160 acres. At one point in history, over 30,000 people lived within its walls. It is an amazing place. And you could tell Truman was really impressed. No sooner than we had walked through the first few buildings, he passed out from exhaustion, forcing Bethany and I to take turns carrying him the rest of the afternoon. Did I mention how hot it was today? It was Missouri hot. But we survived, and had a good time.

Right now, the kids and Bethany are swimming to beat the heat. Grandma Glee is already in her jammies and sacked-out for the night (although it is only 6:20pm). I am enjoying the peace and quiet (a rare commodity in a city of 20 million people) and the air conditioning. I am also plotting a trip down to the lobby bar to unwind with an authentic Chinese brew or three after the fam gets back. Enjoy the photos and stay tuned for tomorrow's update after we fly to Harbin, the city where we will meet our little Tiana on Monday morning. Wait'll she gets a load of us!

Ni Hao from China

Ni Hao from Beijing, China! Upon our safe arrival following 18 hours of travel, we discovered that my blog, my website, and facebook are all blocked in China. Sleep deprived and exhausted after being awake for almost 30 straight hours, I emailed a few folks, dispaired over how to reach the rest of you, and finally passed out. Then I woke up at 1:30am Beijing time with an idea: Enlist the help of my cousin Larry! I emailed him with instructions on how to login as me on my blog and facebook page and voila! He will be copying and posting my updates for me while we our under the big red thumb of the communists. Thank you Larry Barr for doing this and thank you to everyone who is following along with our journey. I'm sorry I won't be able to read your comments, but you can email them to me if you like. I'll send another update after today's visit to The Forbidden City, Tianenmen Square, and The Great Wall. And hopefully I'll be able to post pictures, too. Stay tuned and Zai jian! (that's "goodbye" in Chinese).

One week till Harbin

One week from today, the Naughton clan will be traveling from Beijing to Harbin, a city in Heilongjiang province in extreme northeastern China. The following morning, our sweet little angel Tiana will be introduced to us at long last. The day that couldn't get here fast enough is suddenly very close, but we are ready. I've been ready for this day for over ten years. Moments after Alex's dramatic entrance into the world, I whispered in Bethany's ear, "I never want you to go through that again. Next time, we're adopting a little girl from China." True story.

Facebook is blocked in China, but I will be able to blog daily and link my blog to my facebook page as usual. I won't be able to access facebook to reply to your comments and/or messages on there, so you'll need to post comments directly on the blog if you want to share your reactions to the accounts and photos of our adventures. Signing up for a blogger account is free and pretty painless.

I will also continue to write my newspaper column for the Boone County Journal while we are overseas. Folks who live in the Mid-Missouri area can subscribe to the Journal for only $15 per year. Others can view my column online. I encourage you to share the links to my blog and my column with anyone and everyone you know who might enjoy following along with our journey. I will try to post pictures and at least a short account of events for every day we are in China, so check the blog daily. I hope you will enjoy this experience as much as we will.

My next post will be on Wednesday, the eve our our odyssey. We will be in the air for over 20 hours from Thursday through Friday, so when you wake up Friday morning, I hope to have a new entry posted for your reading pleasure. One final thought: Thank you all for the love and support you have shown us throughout this adoption process. We are truly blessed to have so many supportive friends and family members who have been there for us every step of the way. We love you all!

I love my wife

I wrote the following love letter to my wife yesterday. Afterwards, I thought I should tell the whole world how just much she means to me.

B,

Do you know how much you mean to me? I wonder if you do. You mean EVERYTHING to me. Everything. You gave me your heart once and I broke it. You gave me a second chance and I took it. You gave me your hand in marriage. You gave me a hand up whenever I needed it. You gave me our children. You gave me the opportunity to stay home with those children. You gave me the opportunity to find my voice as a writer. You gave me a chance to find happiness. And I am happy. I've never been happier in my life. You tolerate my whims, my friends, my old girlfriends, my mood swings, my lack of height, my beer belly, and my morning breath. You love me. And I love you. I hope you know just how much. Because I am not a good enough writer to put it into words. Just know that I love you and I appreciate you and I can't imagine living without you. Thank you for sharing your heart and your life with me. I'll never take either for granted.

I love you,
T

"Stay-at-Home" Writer

Today was a very good day. First, after catching up on some much needed beauty sleep (my kids let me sleep in till 10:30 this morning!), we dropped by Maple Hill Vintage Market in downtown Ashland where shop keeper Mary Millar gave me a check for the copies of Naked Snow Angels that she sold last week. It was the first "paycheck" I have earned in over three years. You read that right: Three. Years. After thanking Mary and buying some treasures for the boys, we walked across the street to the Turtle Club where we had lunch with Bruce Wallace, the publisher of the Boone County Journal. Bruce and I had a great conversation and discovered that we are birds of a feather, and Bruce officially agreed to hire me as a columnist for his paper. My first installment will appear in the June 29th edition. I have wanted to have my own weekly newspaper column ever since I started writing this blog, and as I try to find the words to express how elated I am to be given this opportunity, I am stricken with writer's block. Suffice it to say that Travis is a very happy camper. To subscribe to the Journal, click here.

After bidding my new editor farewell, I took the boys to the Ashland branch of the Daniel Boone Regional Library. There I spoke with the head librarian Tim about the copy of my book that I donated. He said that someone on the library board read it, loved it, and agreed to add it to the library's collection--and possibly purchase additional copies! Tim also invited me to do a reading/signing sometime in the future. Of course I said yes. While still floating around on Cloud Nine, we drove up to Columbia and checked in with the folks at Get Lost Bookshop where they reported that several copies of the book have already sold. I may do a reading there sometime in the fall, so if you buy a copy now (because really, who could wait to read such a gem?) just bring it in with you for me to sign. Speaking of signings, I will be at Kerley's Bar in downtown Hannibal on Saturday, July 2nd at 2:00pm to sell and autograph copies of the book. Hannibal peeps: you'd better be there! I ordered 50 copies just for you!!!

So as you can see, for a guy who vowed to never have a job again, I sure am doing a pretty good imitation of someone who is "working" for a living. When people ask me what I do, I usually tell them that I am a stay-at-home dad (for lack of a better term) or a stay-at-home writer. After today's flurry of activity however, I may have to rethink that. Call me whatever you like, I think I'll just call myself a writer. That sounds pretty good to me.

Stay-at-Home Newspaper Columnist?

In my book Naked Snow Angels I am a world-famous syndicated columnist and a best-selling author. Is this fiction or is it the future? Only time will tell, but in reality my book is growing in popularity, so I figured: Why not work on becoming a columnist now, too?

I have been in touch with a newspaper publisher recently who said that he would consider hiring me to write for his paper. I proposed writing a series of dispatches from China describing our journey to our little girl Tiana. I would also write about the ups and downs of riding the stay-at-home parent roller coaster and many other topics--all from my unique perspective. Does this sound familiar? If you've read my book, then it should. Is it art imitating life or vice versa? My book is basically a 286 page answer to "What do you want to be when you grow up?" In my case, I'd change that to "if" I grow up.

Anyway, if any of you peeps in central Missouri think it would be fun to read a weekly column written by yours truly in your local paper, then respond by commenting on this post or writing something on my facebook page. If enough of my fans voice their support, then perhaps you'll be reading my blog in print, as well as online, someday soon. Thanks again for all your support!

PS: Go to Get Lost Bookshop in Columbia, MO or Maple Hill Vintage Market in Ashland to buy a copy of NSA today!

Book Tour

I wanted to let my fans know that I am planning a "Why Not a Book Tour?" book tour for the coming months. As you know, my book Naked Snow Angels is now a runaway hit--selling dozens of copies since its release two weeks ago. Okay, "runaway hit" may be a bit of a stretch, but so is most of the material in the book, so please forgive me. Anyway, I am hoping to hold a book signing in Hannibal, MO during National Tom Sawyer Days (July 1-4) if I can lock down a location. I plan on contacting a local business or two about hosting the event, but if all else fails, I may just sell books out of the trunk of my car and sign copies for everyone who buys one. Also, I am waiting for a shipment of books to place on the shelves of Get Lost Bookshop in downtown Columbia, MO. Those of you in central MO should be able to buy your copy this week. I'll make an announcement and add a link to my website with the bookshop's info as soon as the book is available for purchase there. Also, I may have a retail outlet lined up in Ashland, MO, too. Eventually, I would like to hold a reading/signing in Mid-Missouri for all my central MO peeps.

Stay tuned for more information, tell your friends about the book (better yet, buy them each a copy), and thank you for your continued support!

Due Date: 7-14-11

No, Bethany is not seven months pregnant. She's not pregnant at all actually. But she is going to be a mommy again sometime around the middle of July when we adopt our little angel from China, Tian Tian (Tiana). Last night my bride was feeling overwhelmed by the amount of things we have to finish before bringing our daughter home such as painting her bedroom, buying a new bed, buying clothes, applying for our travel visas, buying intercontinental plane tickets, etc. She was down on herself for what she called "being moody" lately. But while trying to tie up all these loose ends, she is also holding down a full time job, is busy being a mother to two young boys, and being a supportive wife to a first-time author/head case. I told her that she was entitled to feel moody or however she felt because just like any expectant mother who is in her third trimester, she has a lot on her mind right now. However, unlike most pregnant mothers, she only deals with the logistics of bringing home a child, she doesn't get to enjoy the feeling of carrying a new life inside of her. She doesn't get to feel her baby kick when she eats spicy foods. She doesn't get to see her baby's heart beat on a sonogram. She won't get those tiny diapers and adorable clothes for a newborn at a baby shower. She doesn't have people coming up to her to feel her pregnant belly or asking her if it's going to be a boy or a girl. People don't approach her and say, "You're positively glowing today--are you pregnant?" (Although our friends and family have been very supportive and have shown great interest in our adoption journey. Thank you!)

I told Bethany that she needs to start thinking of herself as being seven months pregnant. She asked, "So it's okay that I'm all emotional and crazy lately?" I said of course it is: All pregnant women are crazy and emotional. Whether adopting or giving birth, all expectant mothers get a free pass on that. I think that made her feel a little better. Now is the time for her to start enjoying "being pregnant" and to daydream about having a daughter with whom she can have tea parties and go shopping. It's time to have some fun! Although she has no "due date," the date for her to begin to think like a mommy-to-be is long overdue.

I just want to proclaim for all the world to read: I love Bethany Naughton, the mother of my children. Honey, you're positively glowing today--are you pregnant?

BREAKING BOOK NEWS!

Ladies and gentlemen, the moment you have all been waiting for has finally arrived. My first book, Naked Snow Angels is now available to purchase in paperback form! I used two different self-publishing websites so that the book would be available in multiple outlets. The first site createspace.com is a subsidiary of amazon.com. Here is the link to NSA on that site: Naked Snow Angels. The second site is lulu.com and will feature a special collector's hardcover edition as well as a paperback. Here's the link: Naked Snow Angels/lulu. Don't forget, you can buy an eBook version for Kindle here: Naked Snow Angels/Kindle. Both paperback versions are priced at $15.99 and the Kindle version is $5.99. The hardcover will be $25.99 once I receive the proof and approve it for sale.

These two sites are of the "print-on-demand" variety. This means that they don't hold multiple copies of books in inventory. Rather, they print a copy when it is purchased. This lowers the risk to the printer and to the author who may be required to purchase a large quantity of books that may or may not ever sell. When you order your copy of NSA, allow a week or so for printing and delivery. It will be worth your wait, I promise.

Finally, I chose not to include an acknowledgements page in my book. I didn't want anyone to feel left out, so I left everyone out. That being said, I want to thank my cousin Larry Barr for working feverishly on setting up my new website www.travisnaughton.com and for his early editing efforts and feedback he gave me. Also, thanks go out to my brother Blake for properly formatting my manuscript so that the finished product looks like a million bucks. It's a real book folks! Now go out and buy it, and tell your friends!

Naked Snow Angels available on Kindle

It's official: my book has been unleashed upon the unsuspecting public. If you own a Kindle eBook device, then you can follow this link and buy my book today! If you don't have a Kindle, you can wait for the printed versions to be released next week or you can download a free Kindle reader app for other devices. Click on "Free Reading Apps: Your purchase will be sent automatically to your iPhone, PC, Mac, iPad, or BlackBerry device. Don't have a free Kindle Reading App? Download one here." on my book's page.

Watch for future announcements regarding the release of both the hardcover and the paperback versions and the launch of my new website travisnaughton.com. And thanks for your support!

Updates

First and foremost, here's the latest on our adoption process. We have received approvals for Tiana to immigrate and to apply for a visa. We are waiting on the go-ahead to apply for our visas and to have everything certified at the Chinese consulate in Chicago. Then we will receive our actual travel dates--our agency estimates that we will fly to Beijing on July 14. We hope it won't be later than that so that we can have some home time with our little girl to bond with her (and to teach a little English to her) before school starts in the fall. As always, check the blog for further updates.

Secondly, I think I have my book formatted correctly on a couple self-publishing websites. I should get the proofs in the mail next week. I still need to tweak one paperback version that will be offered on Amazon.com, but on another site I should have another paperback and a hard cover version available to purchase sometime next week. I also uploaded an e-version to Kindle and once they look it over and give me the green light, it will be offered for sale, too. In an effort to market my book to the fullest, my cousin Larry Barr is developing the website travisnaughton.com. The site will include links to all the different outlets for buying my book, a calendar for book tour dates and other public appearances, a fan message board, photos, etc. I know with Larry at the helm, it will be great. So stay tuned for the site launch and get ready to experience the phenomenon that is Naked Snow Angels.

Hope

Osama Bin Laden is dead. Immediately, the world is a better place. I hope that the families of the victims of 9/11 can begin to finally heal their broken hearts and find happiness in this world. I hope that we as a nation can come together and remember that despite our political affilations, religious views, or ethnic backgrounds we will recall that we are all brothers & sisters united in a common belief that ours is the greatest country on the face of the earth. Over the ten years since 9/11 occurred, our solidarity has been tested. The deaths of our countrymen in New York, Pennsylvania, and Washington D.C. on that day and the deaths and horrific injuries of our citizen-soldiers on the battlefield every day since have weighed heavily on all of us. We have at times turned against one another as our frustrations with the way the War on Terror has been conducted have mounted. Political discourse has degenerated into counterproductive rhetoric in the form of Bush-Bashing and The Birther (Bowel) Movement. The undeniable sense of unity Americans felt nearly ten years ago had all but disappeared--until today--hopefully.

Hopefully, we will remember that we're all in this fight for justice and the American way together. Hopefully, we will come together as Americans and not politicize this moral and military victory. Hopefully, we will begin to turn our attention once again to making America a better place for our children instead of living in fear and with revenge in our hearts. Hopefully, George Bush will be given credit for resolving to track down Bin Laden. Hopefully, Barack Obama will be given credit for remaining committed to that end. Hopefully the special ops forces who bravely took down the world's most wanted mass murderer will be treated as the true heroes that they are. Hopefully, they will receive a tickertape parade in New York City. Hopefully, they will be awarded the $25 million reward for the killing or capture of America's #1 enemy. Hopefully, we can bring home the rest of our brave men and women in uniform soon. Hopefully, we can focus on domestic issues that have been neglected since our attention has been rightly focused overseas. Hopefully, a new era of peace and prosperity has begun.

Hope. I don't want to live in a world without hope. Today, to honor the memory of all those who were lost on 9/11 and in the War on Terror, I hope we will all make the committment to come together and remember how lucky we are to be Americans. I hope that we will all tone down the rhetoric and remember that United We Stand, Divided We Fall. Today, I am not a Democrat. I am not a Republican. I am an American. And I am damn proud of that. And I hope that Osama Bin Laden rots in Hell. But as my friend Roger eloquently put it, "I pray for the soul of this man. I pray he comes to understand the horrors he unleashed in this life and is remorseful." That being said, I hope that Osama spends all of eternity in Hell and that he fully feels and appreciates the pain he has inflicted upon the innocents of this world. In this one case, if rejoicing in the death and suffering of another human being is wrong, then I don't care to be right. I hope I can be forgiven for that.

Garage Sale Blues

I love going to garage sales, yard sales, auctions, etc. I love it so much that if I had a job--and an income--our house would be so full of other people's junk that I'm certain my wife would invite me to pack it all up and take it with me after inviting me to move out. Oh, but she tolerates the occasional purchase such as a singing fish for the wall of my man cave or an odd toy or two for the boys. A few weeks ago I scored a sweet Kenwood home stereo system complete with a stereo receiver, 200 watt amplifier, tape deck, record player and three-way speakers--all for just $25! Bethany the Enabler agreed that this was the deal of the century despite the fact that we already owned three other stereo systems (one in the TV room, one outside on the Party Porch, and one in our living room upstairs.) She agreed to the purchase when I explained to her the "necessity" of hooking up two amps/receivers together in the living room to power the two energy-thirsty sets of speakers that I had procured second-hand over the course of this winter's gathering/hoarding season. MORE POWER! Three garage sales later, however, Bethany the Voice of Reason put her foot down when I spotted a complete 200 watt Pioneer home stereo system (minus speakers) for the low, low price of just $50. That system cost well over $1000 new I explained to her, but to new avail. "Just try to imagine the wall of sound I could generate with over 500 watts of power and three sets of speakers!" No dice. What could I do to convince my overly logical bride to let me buy this treasure? Then I saw it: a clothes dryer sat in the middle of the garage with a sign that read, "$25 works great." Our dryer had just died earlier that week, so I thought rather than spending $400 on a new one, we could buy this used one and then Bethany would be so happy that she'd gladly let me buy another stereo or three.

"Oh, no. I am NOT buying another used dryer," she declared. (Admittedly, it would have been our third since we've been married.) I knew not to push my luck any further. I decided to be grateful for the $25 superfluous stereo that was already squirreled away in my trunk and sped home as fast as humanly possible to hook it up. And when I did connect all the components together and fire up my new super-system, I discovered that it was so loud that when turned up halfway, Truman covered his ears, Bethany pleaded for me to turn it down, and Alex fled outdoors. It was GLORIOUS! If I ever get a moment to myself without the delicate ears of my family around to injure, I will attempt to crank it up even higher.

I recently rediscovered a box of my mom's old vinyl albums and another full of some once belonging to my grandparents and have been playing some of them on the "new" stereo today. A flood of very warm childhood memories came rushing back to me as I listened to Billy Joel's The Nylon Curtain, the original Star Wars soundtrack, The Police's Synchronicity, and my favorite of the day, The Charlie Daniels Band's Devil Went Down to Georgia. When Blake and I were kids/indentured servants to our mother, we listened to those records as we did chores around the house every weekend. It made the drudgery of vacuuming, dusting, and doing dishes almost enjoyable. I loved watching my mom as she danced to Wings' Speed of Sound featuring Paul McCartney, the Eagles' Hotel California, and Fleetwood Mac's Rumors. Of course, she had a lot of great records from the 70s that sadly are no where to be found. Some of my all-time favorites are long gone including Rumors and Speed of Sound. Also missing are three of the greatest comedy albums of all time by Redd Foxx, Steve Martin, and Bill Cosby that I used to sit and listen to over and over as a kid. I miss those old records, and of course I miss my mom. She never had much money, so I suppose at some particularly tight financial time in her life she must have sold those old albums at a garage sale. She probably did it to raise a few bucks for a birthday present for me or Blake. If she only knew that those old records and the memory of listening to them with my mom were all I ever needed.

From now on when I go to garage sales, I'll avoid buying stereos or clothes dryers. But if I ever stumble upon some classic vinyl, you can bet I'll take my time looking through them, and if I decide to buy two or three, I'll be sure to be respectful of the seller and the emotions wrapped up in those old records. And I'll think of my mom, too, and I'll tell her thanks for the memories.

Baseball Fever

Tonight, I watched the movie Fever Pitch starring Jimmy Fallon and Drew Barrymore for the third time. The passage of time has finally afforded me the opportunity to fully appreciate the movie's message: Baseball (and life) is beautiful. You see, when it was released, the film depicted the Boston Red Sox victory over the St. Louis Cardinals in the 2004 World Series. That was a hard pill for me to swallow. I have been a Cards fan ever since I can remember. Sure, there was a brief period when I lived in south western Iowa and north central Missouri when I tolerated the Kansas City Royals, but obviously that ended with the tainted 1985 World Series. Since then, I have devoted my fandom to the Redbirds. But after watching the movie tonight, I was reminded of another team I had an affection for. The Bo Sox.

People my age will remember a television show from the 1980s called St. Elsewhere featuring Denzel Washington, Ed Begly, Jr., Mark Harmon, Howie Mandel, and the guy who was the voice of Kitt, the car from Knight Rider. The main thing you should take from this is that Howie's character always wore a Red Sox ball cap, and because I thought he was the only funny person on an otherwise melancholy show, I gravitated towards him. I found myself emulating his comedic stylings and even convinced my dad to procure for me a fitted Red Sox cap. In 1986, the Sox battled the Cardinals' hated rivals, the New York Mets in the World Series. Bill Buckner, the Sox first baseman broke not only every heart in New England, but also my own when he allowed a routine ground ball to pass between his legs allowing the Pond Scum Mets to win the game and the series. I was as distraught as the Bostonians depicted in the film I watched tonight, but despite their lamentations of an 86 year curse on the club following Babe Ruth's trade to the hated Yankees, I felt even more troubled by the fact that the curse was broken against my beloved Cardinals in the 2004 series.

As much as I liked the Sox, it killed me to see them beat my Redbirds in the fall classic that year. It may not have been 86 years since the Cards' last World Series win, but 22 years seemed like an eternity to me. Tonight's movie brought back many painful, yet romantic memories of my life-long love affair with the National Pastime. Suddenly, I didn't hate the Sox. I remembered how heartbroken I was when I first saw poor Billy Buckner commit the worst error of his professional life. I recalled how disgusted I was when Kansas City raised the trophy in 1985 after umpire Don Dinkinger blew a call at first base that would have sealed the championship for St. Louis. I suddenly realized how much baseball has meant to me over the years since I first took the field when I was in the second grade. I recall the pride and horror of having my dad and mom coach my little league teams. I relish the joy of coaching Alex in his first ever year of "organized baseball." I recoil at the errors I made while coaching a t-ball team and arguing with parents over the way I mismanaged their children. But overall, I am overcome with the realization of how much I love the game of baseball.

I have been involved in organized ball, including coach-pitch, little league, Khorey League, junior high, high school, men's slow-pitch softball, co-ed softball (in which I hit my only over-the-fence homerun--with a dislocated knee cap no less!--and won my only league championship), and Alex's teams since I was seven years old. That's over thirty years of dedication to the game. Nowadays, I am in a fantasy baseball league--my first--and I have really enjoyed delving into the details of my favorite sport. I hope that I can win a buck or two when the season is done, but if not, at least my love affair with the game will have been rekindled. Alex doesn't want to play ball this year, and I won't force him. Baseball is a game that can only be appreciated by people who truly love it. My next book may even be about the game, so stay tuned for further updates. In the meantime, take your kids to a ballgame. Have a beer and a hot dog. Teach your son or daughter to keep score. Tell them about your childhood love for the game. Give them your bubble gum card collection and review it with them. Above all else, remember that our national pastime serves a greater purpose. It brings fathers and sons together. It gives us "heroes" to look up to. It reminds us that life is not all about work and drudgery, but also about seeking out the things that we can share with the ones we love. Baseball is not just a game. It is the glue that bonds us together every summer regardless of whether one is a Yankees fan or a member of Sox Nation. It is an opportunity to hold true heroes such as Stan Musial and Jackie Robinson up as examples to our children of what it means to be a great American. No matter what team you root for, baseball has the power to unite the world. In an age of radical differences between various countries and political movements, baseball is the one international constant that has the power to bridge the gap between us.

So do yourself and the world a favor: Go out and rent The Natural, or Fever Pitch, The Bad News Bears, or Field of Dreams. Coach a Little League team. Join a fantasy league. Take your kids to a ball game. Take a moment to remember that life has some pretty sweet things going for it once you stop dwelling on all the negatives we are bombarded with in the media such as the economy, wars, and the New York Yankees.

Beisbol, is been berry, berry good to me.

Work Wife

First of all, I have to preface this post by stating for the record that I love my wife more than anyone else on Earth. More importantly, I am in love with Bethany with every fiber of my being. That being said, I do love another woman--platonically of course. That woman is Kim McCullough. I'm pretty sure her husband Rob knows how I feel about her--after all, she was my work wife at Treats Unleashed before she was his real wife. By the time I met Kim, Rob had already swept her off her feet, and I was a very happily married man with a young son. I was also fourteen years her senior. How many times did I have to endure hearing her repeat the phrase, "Oh my god, you're HOW old?! You're almost the same age as my mom!" So there was a bit of a generation gap, sure. But we became good friends during the years we worked together nevertheless.

I watched Kim mature from a relatively naive 19 year old college student to a 25 year old college graduate, retail store manager (after I "retired" from that same post), and a loving wife. In the process, my real wife grew accustomed to hearing me refer to Kim as my work wife, and she seemed to appreciate the friendship that developed as much as I did. Rob & Kim and Bethany & I have become great friends and we have enjoyed painting the town red together whenever we've been able to convince Grandma Glee to babysit our kids for an evening. But sadly, those opportunities will be few and far between from now on. My work wife and her real husband are moving away.

Rob shall forever more be referred to as Doctor Rob since he landed a coveted residency in a Kansas City hospital after graduating from the MU School of Medicine this spring (Congrats, Doc.) But of course that means we will not see our friends very often from now on. Luckily, they are moving to Liberty, where Bethany's sister Charla lives with her family, so we will surely see each other now and then. But I will certainly miss having my friend Kim nearby.

Kim is a vibrant, vivacious person. Spunky. Sassy. Smart. Funny as hell. She and I share many of the same philosophical and political views. We laugh at the same jokes. We both enjoy drunken bowling. We love dogs. In truth, she is much more than a work wife to me. She is my friend. And I am going to miss the hell out of her when she moves away. So Kim, if you are reading this, I want to tell you right now (so that when we all go out one last time before you move, I won't start blubbering like a little baby) that I am going to miss you like crazy. You are a wonderful person and you mean the world to me. I have a lot of "guy friends" who I could never say these things to, but that's the cool thing about having a female friend: You won't laugh at me for being all sappy and telling you how I feel. Well, maybe you will, but that would be tolerable coming from you. I will always cherish the time we shared at the store, especially while my mom was battling cancer and we were going through Truman's adoption process because you were always there for me to talk to. And I was so proud to watch you walk down the aisle with Rob. You looked so beautiful in your wedding dress--and happy. And you have always been great to Bethany and my kids--and to me. I am damn glad I met you. (You too Rob.) :)

This is not goodbye, but good luck. Good luck, Kim & R0b, in the next chapter of your lives. May you always be as happy as you have made me feel over the past few years. And Kim, my work wife, my dear friend; always remember that there is an old married guy in Columbia who is forever grateful for having had the chance to get to know you. I love you.

Writing vs. Parenting

Obsess much? Why yes I do. Whenever I begin an undertaking, I commit myself to it fully, maniacally, forgoing sleep, food, and sanity to complete my chosen task. I ignore the rest of the world while frantically scrambling to accomplish my goals. Once, I sat on the living room floor at my mom's house and assembled a model car from start to finish--over the course of twelve straight hours. Because I have a need to finish tasks in this fashion, the other things in my life tend to get ignored. And if I am worried that I won't be able to finish a project immediately, I'll often not begin it at all. Some may call that procrastination or laziness, but I call it staving off madness.

This same sad truth applies to my writing. I love writing. Whenever I get on a roll, I lose myself in the process and inevitably lose all track of time. I've written for as many as twelve hours in a day, during which time my children may have been arrested, convicted, and incarcerated for some or other egregious offense that should have been easily averted by an attentive parent. Therein lies the problem. I want to write. I want to begin another book and I need to work on getting my first book published. But I do neglect Truman during the day while I am in obsessive-compulsive writing mode. Next year, he will attend pre-school for three or four hours a day, so I will have some more free time to write then. However, I will still have to stop what I'm doing, drive to the school to pick him up, make lunch, play with him, pick up Alex and Tiana at the bus stop a couple hours later, do some chores around the house, and get supper going for Mama, etc. Had Hemingway been required to clean house and take care of a pre-schooler, would he ever have written A Farewell to Arms? I doubt it.

I imagine that very few of the world's most successful writers were stay-at-home dads. Now don't get me wrong, I love being a stay-at-home dad. I wouldn't trade it for any 9 to 5 job on earth. But just imagine if you will, working an 8 to 10 hour shift at your job, spending time with your family after work, and then trying to find the time and energy to write the great American novel. Oh yeah, and you'll need to sleep once in a while, too. Once all three of my kids are in school full-time, then I will have a lot more time to work on my writing. But that is still another year and a half down the road. In the meantime, I will try to strike a balance between being a housekeeper, chef, babysitter, taxi driver, coach, husband, handyman, groundskeeper, mechanic, carpenter, pet groomer, writer, and lunatic. Wish me luck.

A Rose by Any Other Name

Friends, after months of deliberation we have finally decided upon a name for our little girl. Her Chinese name, which was given to her at her orphanage, is Dang Tian Tian. Of course in Chinese, Dang is her surname, so she is called Tian Tian, which translates to "more and more." That's nice, but we have a few problems with keeping that name. First, the orphange gave her the name, not her family. Second, it is actually a boy's name in China. Third, it is the name of the male panda at the National Zoo in Washington DC. Three strikes and the name is out.

Some time ago, I thought about calling her Anna Lee, but Bethany vetoed that idea. Later when watching Disney's The Princess and the Frog we decided we liked the lead character's name Tiana (pronounced tee-on-a). It was close to her given name and also the name of a princess, so it became the front runner. Then one day my beautiful bride threw out another idea: Tianna Lee (pronounced tee-an-na). Immediately I loved the name, but first I had to chastise her because she so quickly and bluntly rejected the strikingly similar Anna Lee idea of mine. Nevertheless, all of us in the family have embraced the name and are relieved to not have to refer to the poor child as simply "our little girl" any longer.

Today we are mailing the last of the adoption paperwork to our agency and to the immigration folks to start the process of bringing home our daughter: Princess Tianna Lee Naughton.

Happy Birthday Princess Tian-Tian

My Precious Daughter,

Today is your seventh birthday. I hope it is a great day, despite the fact that you will spend it as you have your last six birthdays--in a cold and lonely orphanage. Now that you are getting older, you may be wondering why you've never been able to share your special day with your family. "Why haven't Mama and Baba brought me gifts? Why haven't they visited in all the years I've lived here? Don't they love me?" These are perfectly reasonable questions to ask and I will do my best to answer them.

Do you know why grown-ups have wrinkles in their skin and grey in their hair? It is because of the important decisions they have to make every day of their lives. Often times, these choices they have to make are not easy and as a result, they suffer more than you could imagine. Undoubtedly, the woman who gave birth to you has developed a lot of wrinkles and grey hair in the seven years since she decided to give you up. We will never know her reasons (or her husband's reasons) for doing so, but I am certain that she has agonized over her decision.

Here's why you've never received any gifts or visits from your parents: Because your real parents live all the way across the world in the United States and it took us a long, long time to find you. We actually talked about adopting a little girl in China the day Alex (your Ge-Ge, or big brother) was born in 2000. In 2006, when you were still a baby, Mama and I started searching for a daughter, but we found Truman (your Di-Di, or little brother) in China in 2008 while we were waiting for our baby girl. Not long after that we decided to resume our search for our daughter. And do you know what? About a month after your sixth birthday we saw a photo of the most beautiful girl in all of China and we knew that at long last we had found our daughter. And of course, that beautiful girl was you!

We're sorry it has taken so long to find you and we're sorry you have to spend this special day apart from your family, but we promise that you'll never be alone on your birthday ever again. We promise to give you a cozy home with a nice soft bed to sleep in, two silly brothers and a bunch of toys to play with, and all the love we have in our hearts so that you will never doubt how special and cherished you are. Happy birthday Mei-Mei. We'll be there to bring you home as soon as we can. Wo ai ni! (I love you!)

Love,

Daddy (Baba)

Breaking News: Pujols Optioned to Triple-A

Memphis, TN (AP)-- St. Louis Cardinals first baseman Albert Pujols, former league MVP and perennial All-Star, has been optioned to the club's Triple-A affiliate effective immediately, sources within the organization confirmed Friday morning. Following a protracted contract dispute, the slugger had his career worst day at the plate in Thursday's season opener, going 0 for 5 while grounding into three double-plays. Manager Tony Larussa said at his post-game news conference, "Obviously Albert isn't playing the way he is accustomed to. He knows he let the team down. He made it clear to me that his contract situation is a big distraction, so he wasn't surprised at all about being sent down to Memphis to get his act together." When asked how long Pujols' demotion might last, the skipper quipped, "As long as it takes."

Teammates of "El Hombre" were shocked when they found out the news. Lance Berkman, a former first baseman with the Houston Astros who signed with the Cardinals during the offseason to play right field expressed his disbelief. "Does that mean I'll be at first (base) now? I never thought I'd be the man to replace King Albert. I wonder if I can get a bullet-proof vest sewn into my uniform. I'm sure I'll hear some death threats tomorrow night."

Pujols declined to comment on the club's decision, but a brief statement from his agent summed up die-hard Cards fans' worst fears. "Albert's going to look really good in a Cubs uniform next year."



April Fool!

Good Luck, Coach Anderson

Just days after telling the Columbia Tribune that he planned to win a national championship with Mizzou and retire as a Tiger, Mike Anderson bolted for the University of Arkansas. Although he should have stuck with "no comment" rather than lead on Mizzou fans, I am not bitter about the coach's defection. Lots of other Tiger fans are, however. They feel betrayed. Lied to. Abandoned. We in Tiger Nation aren't used to this feeling. And here's why: No basketball or football coach has left Missouri of his own volition since the legendary Dan Devine quit to take the top job for the NFL's Green Bay Packers in 1970.

Think about that. Every single Missouri coach for the last 40+ years has been fired (or in Norm Stewart's case "encouraged to retire" by Mike Alden.) None of these men ever dared to leave the University of Missouri to pursue greener pastures. Not one. Some Mizzou fans are calling Anderson a traitor. That's ridiculous. He was an assistant at Arkansas for 17 years, so if anything, he is just going home. It's not like he left us for Kansas or anything.

Here's one more thing for bitter MU fans to consider. Anderson's style of play "The Fastest 40 Minutes in Basketball" is a gimmick. It is basically a frenetic full-court press that lasts the entire game as opposed to most teams' half-court style of play. It is entertaining to watch, but really good teams such as Kansas, Texas, UConn, etc can beat a press and punish you for stubbornly sticking with it. Anderson's teams have had a hard time adapting when their opponent beats their press. At times his players looked clueless during games this season. They got flustered and made silly turnovers and fouls. They yelled at each other on the court and during timeouts. They only won one conference road game all year. In short, the shine wore off Anderson's gimmicky game.

So do not be bitter, Tiger fans. Join me in wishing Coach Anderson the best of luck at Arkansas (except if Mizzou plays against him). He seems like a good person, a family man. He is back home with his family and that's alright with me. Our paths may cross again some day, which would be pretty neat. Not since 1972 when Al Onofio's football Tigers beat Dan Devine's Notre Dame Fighting Irish have MU fans had the chance to cheer our team to victory against a former Tiger coach. An Missouri-Arkansas meeting in the NCAA tournament sure would be fun to watch wouldn't it?

Parenting is very glamourous...

Truman had a fever the other day and wasn't feeling too whippy, so I told him to go lay down in my bed and watch some cartoons while the Children's Advil worked its magic. A short time later he emerged from my bedroom to tell me he accidentally drooled on his blankie. I told him this was not a big deal and we went on with our day. When Bethany got home from work, he told her the same thing, so she grabbed the blankie and tossed it in the laundry hamper without giving it another thought.

That night, she and I got to bed at about 2:00am, both of us dead tired after a long day and a "date night" in town. As my weary head hit the pillow, a strange odor wafted over me. I examined the pillow and the bed, but saw nothing. Exhausted, I lay back down and tried to put the stench out of my mind. But that was impossible. I woke my bride up by exclaiming, "The bed smells like ass."

Bethany said, "I don't smell anything, just let me go to sleep, please." I did as I was told, but as my face was buried under the sheets, the aroma started to overwhelm me and a great realization occurred to me: The bed did not smell like ass. It smelled like vomit.

"Honey," I pleaded, "I think Truman puked on his blankie--and our bed."

To which she replied, "He said he drooled. Maybe he sweat a lot when his fever broke and that's what you're smelling."

I said, "I know what puke smells like. I'm telling you, he barfed in our bed. I can't sleep in this."

"Well it doesn't smell on my side. Just roll over here and we'll change the sheets tomorrow." She seemed so unaffected by it all.

"Honey, I love you, but if someone took a dump three feet from your head, would you just roll over and deal with it in the morning?" How could she argue with THAT logic?

"Fine! I just wanted some sleep dammit. Is that too much too ask?" She jumped out of bed and as she started stripping the sheets, the funk started to spread throughout the room.

"Can't you smell that?" I gagged. It was horrible. I grabbed the offending linens and hurried them down to the laundry room. I pulled Truman's blankie out of the hamper and as I tossed it into the washing machine, a wave of noxious fumes doubled me over as waves of nausea cemented my theory that our four-year-old had in fact barfed in our bed. I had to stop twice to compose myself as I tried to fit the king-sized sheets, my pillow, and that damned blankie into the washer. My vision was so blurred by the tears in my eyes that I struggled to find the detergent. As I finally closed the lid and started the wash cycle, Bethany walked in--apparently tired of waiting for me to bring the clean sheets. She saw that her spouse was suffering and detected the hint of vomit scent lingering in the air. And then she laughed at me. She laughed all the way up the stairs. She laughed as we walked into our bedroom. She laughed as we put on the clean sheets. She laughed as I ripped off my t-shirt which had evidently absorbed some of the fragrance du jour. She laughed as she admitted that perhaps the four-year-old misspoke when he said he drooled on his blankie. She laughed as she acknowledged that maybe he had in fact puked on my side of the bed. She laughed as I screamed "And you were gonna make me lay in another human being's vomit all night long because you were too tired to get up and change the sheets!" And then I laughed, too, and took a scalding hot shower to strip away any remnants of the carnage that may have remained in my hair or on my person. And she was still laughing when I came back to bed.

Parenting is very glamorous.