Chapter 1: Morning Adventures

The sun had barely risen when I sent a quick message, signaling my early arrival. I parked near the garage of her gated condo, waiting for the familiar mechanical door to rise.

“Apollo, stay!”

My spirited German Shepherd bounded toward me, eager for attention. He was once our dog, and as I winced from his heavy paws landing on my sore feet, I couldn’t help but smile. “Can you not step all over my toes?” He seemed to understand, having been with us since he was a puppy. This year, he turns eight.

“Zeke and Thorin are still having breakfast. They woke up like wildlings at six-thirty,” she said as we entered her stylish new townhouse. It was a serene space, and I felt genuinely happy for her.

“My son!”

I lifted my eldest into a warm embrace. “Dad, look what I made!” he exclaimed, pointing to a whimsical display on the couch: a baseball cap and rainbow sunglasses perched on a basketball. Our laughter filled the room, interrupted by the enthusiastic shouts of my younger boys from the kitchen.

The competition for my attention began.

If I could improve in one area, it would be planning. However, today, I had no agenda. It was Monday, and I’d have my boys until Wednesday. Typically, we collaborate on our daily plans, with them providing endless suggestions and me narrowing them down for a fun day ahead.

“How about we hit the skatepark?” I proposed.

“Yeah!!” they cheered.

Two out of three wasn't bad. With three kids, that was a win. If only I could juggle a few more arms and eyes, life would be easier. But I managed with what I had.

I merged off the freeway, “After the park, we’ll fill our water jugs, then grab some gas and soda water before heading to the library.” My boys were always buzzing with excitement about what was to come, so I tried to keep them in the loop.

Reading wasn’t a big part of my childhood. My parents were fantastic, but they weren’t exactly scholars. I often envied those who reminisce about their early reading experiences. Late to literacy myself, I was determined to change that for my sons.

“Dad! Can I help fill the water jugs?” they chorused.

“Yes, everyone can help!” I replied. “Can I handle the money part?” the eldest asked, eager to take charge. The youngest, with a quarter clutched in his fist, chimed in, “Can I do the metal moneys?” He’s always on the lookout for his precious coins, often treating our living room as a piggy bank.

As they squabbled over who would pay for gas, I gladly let them join in. The older boys had recently started pumping gas. “Just hand them the money and say, ‘sixty on one,’ alright?” I instructed Uriah, who looked ready to take on the task.

At the gas station, we selected drinks and approached the counter. Thorin was sleeping soundly in his car seat. I kept a watchful eye on him while we paid.

“Five dollars even,” I handed over the cash. The clerk asked if we needed anything else, and my sons exchanged uncertain glances. “Do you remember what you need to say, son?” I prompted Uriah. He hesitated before finally summoning the courage to say, “Can I have sixty on number one, please?”

His nervousness melted away as he successfully completed the transaction, earning a small treat in the process. It was a moment of triumph, one I would cherish.

They helped me with the gas, busying themselves with their suckers. Thorin woke up, eagerly munching away.

As we headed to the skatepark, I couldn’t help but reflect on the day’s unfolding events. My laptop was in tow, but my attempts to jot down notes were futile amid the chaos of parenting. I tied shoes, ensured safety, and broke up playful skirmishes, all while maintaining a cheerful demeanor.

The skatepark was familiar territory. My youngest, fearless and full of energy, challenged his older brothers to a race. I couldn’t help but smile at their antics.

Off to the library we went.

“Oh no!” I exclaimed suddenly, realizing we were late for our chiropractor appointment. I called to reschedule, reminding myself that my eldest had been struggling with sinus issues for quite some time. His mother, despite our separation, remained a vital part of our family’s journey.

While waiting at the skatepark, I noticed a couple exchanging their son without a word. My heart ached for them, hoping they could find a way to communicate better.

“If there’s an animal puzzle, I’m getting it!” Uriah shouted, fueled by excitement from previous library visits. The boys continued their chatter about puzzles and books as we drove, the heat from the sun pouring through the windows.

“Twenty hundred poops! Twenty hundred toots!” they chanted, their laughter echoing in the car.

I turned up the radio, wanting them to experience the magic of music. Paramore’s “Decode” played, and I added it to my playlist, followed by The Offspring’s “The Kids Aren’t Alright.” My love for music ran deep, and I hoped to share that passion with my sons.

As we finally pulled into the library parking lot, I felt a sense of accomplishment. We had made it, and literacy was now a shared goal.

Not I, but the grace of God who is with me — tps

Chapter 2: Learning Through Laughter

In this episode of The Julia and Gino Podcast, Eric Davis shares invaluable insights on fatherhood, emphasizing the importance of creating meaningful connections with our children.

Chapter 3: The Power of Learning

Raising Men Part 1 explores practical lessons on fatherhood, guiding parents on how to nurture and support their children's growth and development.