Tag Archive for: dad

Top Ten Reasons to be a Dad

I am not a dad, but I do have one. And in the 34 years of knowing my Dad, I’ve learned why he chose to be a Dad-along with a few other things, like:


duct tape
Duct tape fixes everything, even flip flops.

But, here are the top ten reasons that I think my Dad became a dad.


Dad Mustache
1. You can pretty much wear anything, if you’re a dad. You might even hear, “Oh, that’s just my dad.”

2. Mustaches look sleazy on most guys, but if you have a wedding ring and your toting around 4 kids, you can get by with it.


Mom and Dad
3. You have the right to embarrass your kids-because, after all-you can punish them if they make fun of you.

4. You finally get to say, “Don’t make me turn this car around!”.


My dad is hard to describe. He’s an ordained minister, a retired Lieutenant Colonel in the army, a musician, a great story teller and the best man to measure your husband next to.   That’s my dad.
5. When you become a dad, you automatically know how to carve a turkey, change the oil, fix a garbage disposer, change a diaper and make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Or not.

6. You always get to say the prayer at the dinner table, making it as long-winded as you want.


Mom & Dad-Apple Day
7. If you are awesome-like my Dad is-your kids will grow up to think you are the most amazing father in the world. And they will tell you often. And visit you. And call you. And hug you.

8. But, even if you are awesome-you will also hear a lot of stupidity out of your children as they grow up. Because, let’s face it. Kids are stupid. But, since you’re awesome, you remain calm, pray for sanity and spank on.


Matlach Family Thanksgiving 2012-Mom and Dad
9. You get to say, “Because I said so”, and “Because your mother said so.” You prefer the first, but will use the latter if need be.

10. You get presents on father’s day, including-but not limited to: licorice, updated clothing items, bar-b-que gift certificates, hand-painted art projects, perhaps a reenactment of your life put on in a dramatic form complete with costumes, and socks.

Who wouldn’t want to be a dad? Happy Father’s Day, Dad. I LOVE YOU!

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Happy Mother’s Day!-What I’ve learned.

I have the world’s best parents and the world’s best parents-in-law. You may think you do, but I would challenge you to arm wrestle competition to own the title. And since you’re there at your computer and I’m here at mine-let’s just call it a draw, shall we?


Anywho-it’s obviously Mother’s Day and I want to praise the woman the raised me (Mom) and the one that raised the man that I’m deeply, passionately in love with (Connie-Mom).

I would like to share a few things that these ladies did well in regards to being a Mom. And, I hope to encourage all of you that may be-even right this moment-frazzled, worn out, frustrated and re-thinking that whole “mom” thing.


The biggest thing that I learned from my mom was:
1. Consistency is paramount in regards to both love and discipline. I knew that if I crossed the line, I would be punished for it-often by writing inches out of the dictionary or the Bible. I do give a tip of the cap to my mother for “allowing” me to have such an expansive vocabulary. I also knew that when my jacked-up, gymnastics-back was keeping me awake at night, mom would come into my room and rub my back until I fell asleep.


2. Choosing to make life fun is an intentional decision-it doesn’t just happen. And “fun” doesn’t have to be expensive-fun comes by catching lightening bugs, making pizzas, playing board games and taking bike rides. As a family, we never went on a cruise, visited exotic places or went on ski vacations. Those things aren’t bad to do-they just weren’t an option when I was growing up. Instead, my best memories consist of sitting around the fireplace, drinking Five Alive, eating popcorn and playing Sorry.


3. God comes before everything-even before me. My mother has had a consistent quiet time ever since I can remember. I knew not to interrupt her and I knew it was in my best interest if she spent time with God before conversing with humans.


4. Dad and Mom presented a unified front, one that us kids knew we couldn’t break apart.
Once a decision was made, I never thought to try to continue to get my way. Well, maybe “never” is a strong word. How about, “most of the time”. At any rate, I knew it was futile. Those parents of mine were resolute.

I love you so much, Mom. Thank you for being consistent, fun, Godly and resolute. I hope I can be half the woman you are, someday.


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Guess who’s visiting? My Best Friend.

I grew up surrounded by testosterone. With three brothers and a dad in the military, the color pink wasn’t a part of any decor or found behind my closet doors in my house.

I heard a lot of, “Buck it up, Becky”, and “Mom, make her quit crying.” This was usually the aftermath of, “She won’t quit talking. Mom, make her quit talking.”


It could have been worse, though. At least the testosterone-laden men weren’t the shouting at the football game on television types, the revving up of muscle cars kind, or the noodlin’ group. Not that those things are wrong…at all…seriously…

The only reprieve from the stinky testosterone was my mommy.


She was/is beautiful, graceful, and kind. She knows how to cook chicken a thousand ways, how to bandage a knee (that doesn’t really need to be bandaged) and how to sew me the eye lit pillowcases I just had to have when I was 12.


As a child, I don’t know that I valued all of the knowledge that she had. I suppose a five year old doesn’t understand just how much effort goes into cooking three meals a day from scratch.

But, as an adult, I can’t imagine my life without her to call when I’m having a bad day, a good day, or just a bleh day.

She is my best friend and she is all mine for the next week. Well, kind’ve. I’ve still got to share her with the now-less-stinky-testosterone. I’ll take what I can get.

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My Hippie Parents Surprise Me Again

My upbringing was pretty unorthodox compared to today’s standards. I would have rather spent time at home, with my brothers and parents than anywhere else.

My parent’s had no health insurance, no credit cards, occasionally a t.v. set, one car (with a one car garage), and all our dinners were made from scratch-which we had together every night.


On top of that, my dad left a “stable” career being active duty military to pursue what God had asked him to pursue. My dad is not a fan of change-so this was not a flippant decision. Let’s just say the man duct-taped his flip flops when the broke, because the new ones probably were “too different”.

So, for several years, they left every weekend to preach and sing at tiny churches all over the midwest. They barely made anything, but they made enough.


Eventually, my little brother and I joined them-Daniel was on the juice harp and piano, while I sang duets with dad or the occasional solo when I could muster up the courage.


No matter what back road we were on, there was always time to pick sunflowers and explore barns.


While in college, my parents moved to El Paso for a few years to teach at a christian school just north of the border and then on to St. Louis to be with my Grandma (my dad’s dad).

And that’s where I thought they would land-forever. The had put down roots for almost 15 years, teaching at another christian school, opening a business and remodeling Grandma’s house.

But when you seek God as my parents do, you never know where He’s going to take you.


In two weeks, they are moving to Mississippi (which is awesome because I love to type all those “s’s”) to live and work here-The Baddour Center.

It’s a Non-Profit center that offers those with intellectual disabilities a safe place to live and work. It’s a cool program: they play intramural sports together, perform dramas, offer continuing education and music programs and even have a beautiful garden center.


(Photo Source: Baddour’s Website)
My dad has taken the job of Choral Director for the Center’s choir called, “The Miracles”. The group’s goal is “to glorify God, demonstrate the abilities of persons with intellectual disabilities, and tell the story of The Baddour Center.”

This job is going to fit my dad like a glove. He gets to put to good use his music and touring skills, taking the group to 90 different concerts throughout the year.


Just when I think I’ve got their future all figured out for them, God shakes things up and moves my hippie parents to another state.

Throughout all these changes in their lives, one thing has been certain. Their hearts seek after God-over comfort and familiarity. And they will go where He leads-no matter what.

What more could a girl ask for?


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