It's the day after Thanksgiving and I've just finished two meals worth of delicious left-overs for lunch and dinner. My wife and I played a game of Cadoo with our two daughters, which is the kids version of Cranium where you draw, sculpt, act, and guess your way to victory.

The last round of the game had me and Delaney battling for first place, with each of us having the most pieces on the board. My wife rolled Combo, which meant that whoever guessed the answer would get to place their piece along with my wife's - meaning that if either Laney or I got it then we would win the game.

I looked over at Laney and gave her an exaggerated evil eye. She glared right back at me and snarled "Bring it on Old Man!"

LOL - this was from the mouth of an 8-year old, and I couldn't help laughing my head off.

I won the game, but she came right back with "Oh yeah, well you're 39!"

I guess the high competition gene runs deep in this family (I know it's a big part of my personality), and I'll always remember how witty and funny she can be.

My wife and I went to Hawaii two weeks ago for our first vacation without the kids in 14 years. We had a great time snorkeling, sailing, shopping, eating, laying in the sun, and just plain relaxing. The only other time we've done something like this was on our honeymoon.

Towards the end of our trip I started journaling about all the things I wanted to improve upon when we returned. My list included a lot of the usual types of resolutions: workout every day, tackle several household projects that have been on my wife's honey-do list for years, take my kids out on daddy-dates, cook dinner once a week, spend more quality time with my wife, etc, etc.

These are all good things, but here I am a week away from our return to reality. I have not even stepped through the door of the gym, let alone planned a daddy-date or even flipped through a cooking magazine to find a recipe.

My great intentions met what I'll call The Gravity Factor full force Monday morning of last week. We got home from the airport late Sunday night and didn't get to bed until 2 in the morning, and then I had to get up for work 4 hours later and start the daily grind. It was a pressure-cooker week getting ready for a 2-day training seminar that I was teaching, that started on Tuesday, followed by preparation to teach the same training to a group of 20 partners in San Francisco this week (leaving tomorrow).

I ended up putting in close to 60 hours last week, and it wasn't until Saturday that I was finally able to spend any time with my family. Looking forward to the chance to finally start in on my goals and resolutions, I started the day by raking the lawn and then took the family out for breakfast (actually my daughter asked me if I'd take her out for breakfast and I suggested we bring the whole gang).

We got back and my wife decided I needed a firm reminder that the garage was still a mess, and wondered out loud (with a frustrated tone) if it would ever get it cleaned up (background: I've needed to do this for over 2 years, and so her frustration was warranted - but her timing sucked. It was extremely deflating for me to hear that right then, after the rough week at work, and after I was just starting to try and tackle my Super Daddy goals that I had been wanting to get to all week).

This is what I mean about The Gravity Factor.

We want to be better dads and do right by our families, and keep everything balanced. But it seems like whenever we so much as start to tackle our goals, we're hit head-on by a heavy workload, or our cars suddenly decide to break down, or the washing machine decides to start leaking, or our wives decide it's the perfect time to remind us of our history of failure, which completely knocks the wind out of us and makes us wonder whether it's even worth trying to improve (that may not be their intentions, but that's what it ends up feeling like on our end... well, mine anyway).

Can you relate?

I'm not going to give up, but this struggle is getting old. I also realized this time around that there are too many things I need to improve on, and that I just flat out don't have the ability to achieve them all. I may never be the kind of dad I want to be, or that my wife wants me to be.

Maybe that's the first step: realizing that you just can't do it all.

Soccer practice started today for my oldest daughter (age 10), and my wife just informed me that we'll have soccer practices every Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday evening for our three kids combine. The Soccer Jamboree event will be at the end of August, and then games start every Saturday (meaning three games every Saturday in addition to the practices during the week).

YIKES!!

Fortunately the practices are all at the same school, with each child at a different field. So at least we won't have to cart them around to different locations.

My kids are totally pumped too! We already started practicing soccer kicking in the backyard after practice today with all three kids, and I was impressed with how much my kids had retained from last year's soccer training.

I'm really looking forward to the season too, even though it's going to be a hectic schedule. I won't be coaching at all this year, so I'll be able to sit back and cheer my kids on from the side lines. Talk about a great way to unwind from a long day at the office!

One of the other dads happens to be the same guy who sold me my road bike, and we're both planning to bring our training stands and bikes next Wednesday. Heck, it'll give us a solid hour of riding, which means I can stop working out early in the morning. It'll also give me a chance to get to know him better, and maybe learn something about him other than just our mutual interest in cycling.

I also have my eye on just bought a new zoom lens for my Nikon D50 DSLR camera (the Nikon 70-300mm f/4.5-5.6G ED-IF AF-S VR Zoom Nikkor Lens), which should help me capture some great shots of my kids in action. My folks gave us the camera last year as a much appreciated gift. It takes exceptional pictures, but the lens that came with it doesn't zoom in close enough when my kids are half way across the soccer field. This new zoom lens should take care of that nicely, and will be well worth the money when we look at the close-up photos years from now. I shopped around and found the cheapest deal at Amazon, which beat Costco's deal by $20 and includes free shipping.

The busy schedule should keep us scrambling through the end of October, and I'm looking forward to seeing our kids work hard and learn a great sport.

After that, it'll most likely be dance for the girls, and Karate for me and my 6-year-old son. I took American Free Style Karate for two years during college, and earned a blue belt in a dojo that requires 7 years of training to earn a black belt (compared to the numerous blackbelt mills that let students earn a black belt after only a year's worth of training). That was almost two decades ago though, and so it'll be interesting to see how well I do at it this time around.

One thing for sure: these are the times that parents live for, and the memories built during sports events are absolutely priceless.

I'm the self-designated Time Cop in our family - another way of saying I'm completely anal when it comes to getting places on time (or better yet early).

"Early In, Early Out" is my motto. I always like to arrive 5 or 10 minutes early to scope out the lay of the land, get comfortable with my surroundings, and build in margins for unexpected delays. This approach serves me extremely well at work where it comes across as good planning, but on the home front it's a little overbearing at times.

To make matters worse, I married someone who is completely the opposite. She likes to be 10 or 15 minutes late to almost everything (except her hair appointments of course), and we're always the last couple to leave the party or the church parking lot.

It's a lot of work to get anywhere on time with 3 kids. But instead of standing at the bottom of the stairs and calling out the time every few minutes (my usual routine), I'm starting to learn that a less stressful way to get the family places on time is to play a more active role in getting the kids ready to leave. I'm not good at doing the girl's hair, so I leave that to my wife, but I'm plenty capable of helping brush teeth, getting them dressed, putting the dog away, etc.

This may sound completely obvious to many of you, but for some reason it's taken me a long time to figure this one out... and I still haven't perfected the technique by any means.

I've also started to realize that being on time is not nearly as important as just being together. Getting to our destination a little late is often a good trade-off for getting there in good spirits - without the anxiety and stress of me continually barking at my kids and wife to get ready on time.

A house sold in our neighborhood several months ago, and the new neighbors have a full grown white pitbull with black spots. I met him up front and personal last week when he was roaming the sidewalk in front of our house where my kids were playing.

Trying to stay calm, I walked over and escorted my 6 year old son inside at about the same time as the owner came running over to catch his dog. I was pretty ticked, and told him "You can't let your dog out like that man!" He jokingly laughed it off and I followed up with "No dude, you CAN'T!"

That's when I heard my wife calling out "Honey..." in her warning tone, which is her clue to me that I'm being a jerk.

I couldn't help it though. I watch the news and hear of numerous pitbull attacks, where the dogs turn and attack with such intensity - and often don't let go until serious damage or death has been inflicted on their victim. Yes, I know other dogs attack people too, but they aren't nearly as lethal of a threat as pitbulls are, and I do not EVER want to see 160 pounds of pure muscle and teeth tearing into one of my kids!

Is it unreasonable for me to expect or hope that my kids could just safely play outside, without having to worry about a lethal threat turning into a fight for their lives?

I talked to the owner later and explained my concerns about his dog being loose, and found out that this was actually the second time that day. That was a week ago, and we just returned from a 4-day vacation only to discover the dog roaming in our front yard!

Clearly the owner is not taking enough precautions to keep their dog contained, or on a leash. I'm very concerned as it's summer vacation and my kids play outside a good part of the day (along with several other young children from families in nearby homes).

He claims that he's raised this dog since he was a baby, and that he's a good dog as long as you treat him well. Yeah, right... that's what all pitbull owners say. But the fact remains that even if a kid mistreats a dog, that doesn't justify the possibility of them losing their lives or becoming seriously injured. Kids are kids after all, and they don't always do the right thing, or even know what the right thing is.

Have you experienced pitbulls near your kids? How did you handle it?

I'll be checking on city ordinances today, and will be filing a complaint with the police every time I see that dog loose. There's no reason in my mind that we should have to live in fear.

Regan called me over yesterday to proudly show me how he could zoom across the monkey bars on our swing set, and then climb up through the last rung and over the roof of the connecting tree house. He was grinning from ear to ear, and it reminded me of how my brothers and I would climb pine trees in the back yard of our apartment complex at his age. We'd climb everything in site actually, even the backside of the concrete stairs leading up to our 2nd story apartment.

One time out of curiosity I stuck my head through the open stair steps and realized I was completely stuck. I hollered at my brother to get help, and my mom came running out to see me dangling underneath the stairs with my head stuck about midway up.

We must have given her literally hundreds of adrenaline rushes and numerous near-heart attacks in those days. There was never a dull moment when me and my brothers were playing together, and there's never a dull moment with my kids either!

Later that day my daughters invited me to their "restaurant", which was a lawn chair under the patio set in our backyard. They each took turns taking my order for dinner and dessert, and all the food was carefully made "with love times 4" (my favorite number).

For dessert they made me a delicious strawberry rhubarb pie with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. It was served on a cracked red frisbee, and the ingredients were a half-inch layer of mud and twigs with three overly-ripe cherries on top. Yep, nothin' but the good stuff for good ole' dad!

Kids have incredible imaginations! It's like they can instantly transport themselves into another world, where the sky's the limit to what can happen.

Why is that so hard for us grown-ups to do anymore, and when did we lose that ability?

Maybe it's the constant daily grind at work that continually forces us into a routine that's void of imagination or creativity. Maybe it's the constant struggle to stay on top of bills, let alone make your dreams come true.

Maybe it's just reality - one my kids will have to face one day soon enough... but there's no rush in my opinion. I'm glad they can just be kids, and I want that to last as long as it seemed to last for me growing up as well.

Last night my wife showed me an excerpt that my daughter had written in her daily camp journal. It read "Sometimes my dad doesn't listen to important stuff. What should I do?"

OUCH - I feel like I've completely failed her in a very important area!

Day camp finished up about a week ago, and I wasn't aware they'd be encouraging the kids to write things in a journal - but I'm very glad they did, or I might not have known that I was missing the mark with her.

At work, I'm big on performance evaluations, and (not to toot my own horn) I usually receive good comments on a job well done. I've been a software developer for over 13 years, and I know how to excel in the workplace. But I clearly still have a ways to go on the home front.

Performance evaluations are hard to swallow when they reveal areas that need improvement; especially when they come from your child, who your poor performance has deeply hurt.

I've been reading story after story in Tim Russert's new book "Wisdom of Our Fathers: Lessons and Letters from Daughters and Sons", about things father's did or said to their kids when they were even younger than my daughter. Each story is told in vivid recollection of their father's impact in their life at even that very young age. I too can distinctly remember certain childhood events as if they happened just yesterday.

Reading my daughter's journal entry was a real wake-up call for me. I hope I can improve my listening skills and discover what the "important things" are to her, so that she knows how much I truly care for her and love her. And I hope that those are the memories she'll hold onto; instead of the day she wrote a sad entry in her camp journal!

That's the thing that's so hard about failing as a father. It feels so permanently etched in time and in your child's memories.

Last weekend I had one of the best bicycle rides in my entire riding career (which started last October, 2006). It was a 45 mile ride in pouring down rain, but I didn't mind at all because I was able to keep up with the best rider in the group for most of the trip.

In fact, I was feeling so good about my riding improvements as I pedaled each mile away, that I started to get a little cocky and careless. The old saying "Pride goes before a fall" became a reality for me at the 42nd mile.

While waiting for a couple slower riders to catch up, I was circling in a holding pattern on a single-lane road. It was still pouring down rain and I didn't realize that my brakes were completely gone (rain acts like oil when it's running along a bike rim). I had built up a little too much speed as I made that last swooping turn and suddenly realized I was heading for the ditch.

I slammed on the brakes but they didn't slow me down at all, so I was forced to turn sharply. That's when I fell flat on my shoulder - and just as a car started approaching in that same lane! I was still clipped in to my racing pedals, so I had to flip myself and the bike over into the other lane to avoid being hit.

I landed harder than I realized, and felt sharp chest pain both Monday and Tuesday before finally hauling myself in to the doctor for X-rays. Fortunately there were no rib fractures, but they're definitely bruised and I'm home this week doped up on Percocet and Ibuprofen. My doctor said I'd need to rest for 2 weeks and avoid driving due to the sedatives she prescribed for the pain. Every breath I take is met with a sharp pain in my rib cage (probably from all the humble pie that's stuffed in there).

On the bright side, I'll have plenty of time this week to finish reading my new book "Wisdom of Our Fathers: Lessons and Letters from Daughters and Sons" by Tim Russert. There have been some real gems already in the first half of the book, with some amazing stories of the impact that fathers have had in their son's and daughter's lives.

I've already noticed a change in the way I interact with my kids, because I'm starting to realize how important my words and actions are to them. Many of the stories that Tim published were written from grown-ups who remembered things their dads said and did to them as a child that forever changed their lives (in both good and bad ways).

I sure hope my kids will remember the positive experiences more than the negative ones, and I'm blown away at how fortunate I am to be their father!

A traditional summer right of passage for many kids is the Lemon-aid stand, where kids get a taste of sales and marketing at an early age, and have fun making a few extra bucks along the way. It's something I think every family should encourage their kids to do at least once.

We put a spin on this tradition last summer while trying to figure out what to do with all the cherries that were growing on the huge cherry tree in our back yard. They were ripe and juicy Bing cherries, and were starting to fall off the branches and into the back yard.

On a whim we pulled a ladder over and picked a few buckets full, stuffed them in sandwich bags and sold about 30 bags for 50 cents each. That was a sweet deal - Bing cherries sell for about $4 per pound at the fruit stands, and those bags had to each have been at least a pound and a half. It didn't take long to blow through the bags, and the kids made about $15.

This year we planned ahead and started picking this morning at 8:30 a.m. We had two kids in ladders and me on the roof, and by 9:15 we had picked 8 buckets full of berries and started making signs for the neighborhood. We filled 40 bags about 3/4 full and decided to charge a dollar a bag this year.

By 9:30 we had signs up and by 10:00 they had already sold 13 bags and were grinning from ear to ear (and I was too). I picked a couple more buckets and by the time we called it quits at noon they had earned a grand total of $42 to split among the three kids!

Man were they pumped, and very excited to start dividing the money between the three of them. My wise and beautiful wife suggested that we give them half of their earnings and ask them to save the other half for their college funds.

At first I wasn't on board with the idea because it seemed like too small of an amount to be splitting in half, but she convinced me that it was important for the kids to learn the principle of saving part of what they earn. I'm glad I married this woman!

Today's adventure reminded me of the many entrepreneurial experiences my parents exposed me to as a child. My dad would let me use his lawnmower to mow lawns in our neighborhood. I made about $10 to $15 a lawn, and he paid for the gas. It was a great way to earn some extra money, and I started learning the value of hard work and good customer service at an early age.

We also used to drive a van and an 8-foot trailer over to Walldrug, South Dakota where we'd pick Ponderosa pine cones. My grandparents owned a greenhouse at the time, and they paid us a nickel a piece for the prickly cones (and helped us pick them too).

Picking pine cones wasn't all that much fun; it was hard work in the hot sun, but the parts I mainly remember are the stories that grandma would tell about grandpa's childhood. Like the time he was almost struck by a rattle snake out in the farm field because he couldn't hear very well, and didn't hear the snake's rattle until it was almost too late. I also remember camping in tents at a nearby KOA campground, and wrinkling my face at grandma's runny scrambled eggs.

Those are priceless memories that I'll cherish forever, especially now that my grandpa has passed away and my grandma suffers from Alzheimer's. It's the memories of the time we spent together that will stay with me forever.

If you have any kind of fruit-bearing plant in your yard, you're sitting on a gold mine of an opportunity to create some memories for your kids too. Blueberries, strawberries, raspberries, and even apples can be picked together and sold together. You'll build some great memories along the way, just like the ones I built this morning with my kids.

Speaking of memories, I started reading Tim Russert's recently published book titled "Wisdom of Our Fathers: Lessons and Letters from Daughters and Sons", and was impressed by a comment he made in the introduction:

When my life is over, I know that the most important thing I'll be judged on is what kind of father I was.

My wife gave it to me for Father's Day and I gave another copy to my dad for Father's Day also. We're both reading through it and I'm looking forward to the childhood memories it will remind me of as we read through it together!

My wife had a night out with her girl friends recently, and it was my job to handle dinner that night. Being the skilled chef that I am (NOT), I whipped out the Mac and Cheese mix and cooked up a batch of one of my kid's favorite meals.

As I was scooping it up into their bowls, one of them slipped out of my hand and slammed down onto the counter on its side... spilling the noodles onto the kitchen floor. The kids started busting up laughing, and our dog Otis rushed over to see what the rucus was all about.

I figured no harm no foul and let him chow down, while my kids made certain I knew that "Mom would definitely not let Otis do that!" By then I had the camera in hand to take this cute shot of Otis cleaning up the kitchen floor for me, and it took all of about 30 seconds for him to lick away all traces of the Mac and Cheese.

Sure enough, my kids all made sure Mom knew what I had done the next day, and they tattled on me first thing in the morning. I was busted, but it still makes me chuckle thinking about it.

Amazon's new Grocery program sure would have come in handy on a night like this. Did you know Amazon offers over 22,000 non-perishable items including some of your favorite brands, shipped to your door, just like any other Amazon.com purchase? You can even sign up for routine convenient delivery of products such as coffee pods, shampoos, laundry detergent or diapers and receive a 15% discount and free shipping. Now that's what I'm talkin' about!

You should at least let your wife know about this if she's the primary grocery shopper in the family: