How much is too much?

This isn’t a blog about money, I promise. It’s not about spending or saving or living within your means or minimizing or maximizing or being frugal, frivolous, or financially fickle. It’s not about “the best things in life are free,” or “money can’t buy you love,” either, because I wholeheartedly disagree with those statements, and also because as I have already mentioned: this is not a blog about money

It’s about kids and being prepared to love, feed, clothe, house, and provide appropriate extracurricular activities for them as they grow into the people God created them to be.

Now, at times, my writing can venture across the line that separates genuineness and just trying to be funny — and my sarcasm can land smack dab in the middle of “Oh, my gosh, did he really just say that?” So, before I go any further, I need for you to know that I truly, genuinely, 100-percent love kids. 

Not all kids, mind you. Just mine. I’m not like a lot of crazy people who say they see the divine beauty and preciousness and hope for tomorrow in the eyes of all children. I’m only referring to my kids and the deep, deep love I have for them. All five of them.

Five kids is a lot, though. There’s no denying it. Some might even say it’s too many, and depending on the day of the week, I might agree. Especially when it comes to extra-curriculars. My wife and I have been at this parenting-thing for more than 18-years, and we're still trying to figure out how to juggle it all.

We spend most nights from around 10:00 PM til Midnight sitting outside, contemplating these things while kicking back with a beer or a glass of wine in one hand and an iPhone in the other. We usually don’t talk a whole lot during this time, because this is when we try to relax by comparing ourselves to others on Facebook and Instagram.

But when we do engage in conversation, it almost always revolves around doing stuff for the kids. Running from here-to-there-and-back-here-again-so-we-can-get-back-over-there-and-then-the-other-place-before-it-closes-and-oh-don't-forget-about-this-and-that-and... the other thing. 

Evidently, this is our collective spiritual gift and the only thing(s) we are actually qualified to do.  

Last night, after the battery on my phone died from watching videos of friends on beaches with parasailing and scuba-diving and surf-lessons and beachside fruity drinks with whole pineapples and mangoes and other things that look almost too delicious to eat, Bethany and I started talking about some of the stuff we do for our beloveds every month. It verges on the insane. 

As mentioned above, we have five kids: two girls, and three boys. Their ages escape me at the moment, but rest assured, they are old enough to do stuff. Lots of stuff. Too much, really. Things like baseball, football, lacrosse, dance, church camp, overnight camps, bowling lessons (yes, bowling lessons, bless his heart) and, oh, by the way, the oldest is headed to college in the fall, sans scholarship(s). 

The estimated cost of these activities is — you're gonna want to write this down — roughly, nine and a half trillion dollars, give or take. It's worth it, though. It really is. 

But that's not even the point, because this isn't a blog about money. The point is this: if you want to be happy — and I mean really, really happy like your friends on Facebook — don't have a bunch of kids unless you are a trillionaire. That is all I have for you today. 

You're welcome.