My children hate it when I call myself "old."  God bless them for it; they're remarkably consistent in their aversion to any indication of my aging.  I'll tell them that I need to take a break from living-room wrestle-mania "because I'm old"...  Or I'll tell them that I prefer to sit in a chair, as opposed to sitting Indian-style on the floor "because I'm getting to be an old man"... And in these situations, Elliot and Olivia will always faithfully interject:  "But Dad!  You're not old!"

This evening, I decided to play out the conversation a little bit further, just for the sake of fun.  I said, "So how old do you think someone has to be before he becomes old?"

Elliot's forehead wrinkled in thought.  "Umm... How old is Opa?" asking about my father's age.

"58, I think," was my answer.

"Well, then I guess you become old when you get to be about 50."  That seemed to settle the question satisfactorily for his eight-year-old mind.  "And, you know, Dad, you're a young kind of grown-up, like with the teenagers and everything"  (I promise I'm not making this up!).

While we were on the subject, I continued probing for other valuable insight into the topic of aging -- and children's perspective on life.  "So how old do you have to be when you become a 'grown-up?'"

"Well, you have to be finished with college first..." and that age, I eventually drew out of Elliot, would seem to typically be about 28 years old.

"And what age are you when you get married?" I asked.

"17" was his confident, immediate, answer.

"What age are you when you start having kids, then?" I asked.

"I don't know.  Like one or two years after you get married?  Or three or four or five."

"But when you're 33, you are..."

"Not old."

Good to know.

Elliot's home from the hospital now:  tonsils and adenoids removed, small ear tubes inserted.  Medically-speaking, everything went very well; and we are certainly glad for that.

Still, it's been surprising to see how brutal the process was and is.

The last time Elliot had tubes put in his ears (yes, this is the second time that this particular procedure has been performed on my son), he practically bounced out of bed as soon as the anesthesia wore off.  Some of the other kids who had been brought in for pediatric Ear-Nose-Throat surgery at the time woke up groaning or screaming or vomiting blood, but our Elliot was bright as a button -- perhaps because the procedure to place the tubes was not as difficult or as painful for the patient.  But this time, Elliot was one of the "other kids."  He not only had the tubes put in his ears again, but he also had his tonsils and adenoids removed -- and this time, while the other kids seemed to recover relatively quickly, heading home by 10:00 or 11:00, our boy had a much harder go of things, and we didn't get home from the hospital until about one thirty in the afternoon...

When I came into the recovery room, just as Elliot was waking up, the situation was not pretty.  He had blood around his ears and mouth, down his neck, and still coming out of his nose.  A patch of hair above the right side of his forehead was caked with drying blood.  The nurse was working to clean him up, just as he was regaining consciousness.  He was disoriented and panicked.  And then he noticed the pain in his throat.  His throat hurt so much that they eventually had to give him, not one, but two hits of powerful pain-killers to get him to settle down (this is ultimately what kept us at the hospital longer than the other kids).  The nurses kept encouraging him to keep drinking the lemonade that they brought for him -- which Elliot hated, as it stung his throat -- but eventually, Elliot was stable enough to return to the regular hospital room.  His throat pain has remained pretty bad ever since then, but he eventually sucked down four popsicles and was discharged to come home and complete his recovery.

So that's the story up to this point.  We're glad that the much-anticipated surgery is finally over.  We have a few pictures -- and a lot of pain -- by which to remember the occasion.  But hopefully it will get a little better every day from here on out.

I thought I was done with this stage of life.  I thought I had moved on.  Yet here I am, Valentine's Weekend, and I've bought a silly little heart-themed teddy bear for a girl.

I feel so sheepish, as if I'm some kind of pawn of the greeting card corporations.  As if my love is somehow valid only if accompanied by a €2.49 teddy bear.  I feel like I've sold out, and I should be eternally ashamed of myself (not publicizing the fact on the internet!).  But what can I say?  If you would have seen what I saw this morning, I think you would have done the same thing.  You would have realized what a €2.49 teddy bear can mean to a girl.

It all started when I took Elliot and Olivia to school this morning.  Upon entering Elliot's classroom (together with Olivia), his classmate Marije immediately presented him with a cellophane-paper-wrapped gift of a white teddy bear holding a red heart inscribed with the words, "I love you."  There was also a hand-written note attached to the gift, which was signed "x x x kusjes (kisses) - Marije."  When I looked at Marije herself, I noticed that there were tears at the corners of her eyes -- so great was her excitement and anticipation tied up in the gift that she presented to my son.  It was simultaneously beautiful and heart-breaking to see how much energy had been tied up in that little teddy bear, which her mother confided had been sitting on her bedroom dresser for three weeks.  Fortunately, Elliot responded well, with a big smile, a "Dank je wel" (Thank you very much), and a warm hug.  Marije beamed, and Marije's mother gestured as if she was wiping a large quantity of sweat from her forehead in relief.  It was a pretty cute little Valentine's Day scene.

But then I noticed that the eyes of my own little five-year-old girl were welling up with big, crystalline tears.  Her lip was trembling.  Her face was crestfallen.  "What's wrong, Olivia?" I asked her.  "Why are you so sad?"

"Because I don't have anybody giving ME a little bear for Valentine's Day," she wailed.

Perhaps I should have anticipated such a response.  "Oh, Livvie-girl, don't be sad," I said.  "We can be happy for Elliot, and maybe you'll get something else for yourself later."  It was quickly dawning on me how precious a "silly little heart-themed teddy bear" can be to a five-year-old girl.  I wiped her tears and whispered her words of reassurance.  Elliot agreed that she could carry the little teddy bear that he had just been given down to her classroom before I took it home with me for the day.  So the crisis was averted.  Even so, as I was walking through the halls of the school, holding my little girl's hand and remembering her tears, I resolved to myself that I would intentionally cave to the "corporate pressures" as soon as possible and ask Olivia to be my Valentine, with some little plush trinket.  Yes, I felt a little bit foolish, standing at the cash register of the Blokker and exchanging my €2.49 for their little heart-themed teddy bear, which I would give to my daughter.  But as I thought about it, I realized that it's a great privilege that I have -- to capture the heart of a little five-year-old girl, who's still not embarrassed by demonstrations of affection from her father.

Indeed, €2.49 -- and its accompanying loss of dignity -- is a very small price to pay for such an opportunity.

The 14th of February happens to fall on a Sunday this year:  Valentine’s Day.  And to observe that occasion, our church has come up with an idea to host a panel of married couples -- a “Panel of Love,” if you will -- to do an open discussion about love and marriage, from a Christian, biblically-based perspective.

We’re going to have three different couples, from three different stages of life, participating in the panel:  Marci and I (married for almost 12 years), Marc and Heidi La Porte (married for 4 years), and Marco and Claudia Pauws (married for 4 months).  Anthony Dunstan will be serving as moderator for the discussion, directing the flow -- but really, the whole thing is going to be based on answering questions from the church.  We've solicited (and received) questions through a variety of different means already, but I also promised to post an electronic opening for questions here on this blog, so please feel free to leave any questions that you might want to have considered for inclusion in the discussion by our "Panel of Love."

Maybe you’ll want to ask us about sex... or arguing... or having children... or division of household responsibilities... or finding the love of your life... There are a lot of different possibilities -- but how the discussion will go all depends on the questions we receive.  The comment box is now open (and yes, it's OK if you'd prefer to ask your question anonymously)...