“Our country’s greatest threat is not Iran or China, it is the disease of spending beyond our means.”

 

Dear Children,

 There is good reason I make you save fifty percent of every dollar you bring in.   I want you to learn an important life lesson and since we’re all creatures of habit, I figure this is the best way to get you to develop this habit now.  I know it works.  I grew up under a similar mandate which helped foster a self discipline and appreciation for the value of saving money and the reward of this lesson has been great!

 Save before you spend; Spend only what you can afford; Live behind your means.

 Unfortunately, I think it’s a difficult lesson for children to grasp.  Instilling counter cultural values in kids is always a challenge, and nothing seems more “against the flow” than teaching children to control spending.  After all, save before you spend; Spend only what you can afford; Live behind your means are virtues currently absent in our own government. 

 For adults, like me, who were taught by their parents that hard work always pays off, and to keep spending in check so as never to have to borrow money, it is inconceivable how our government is digging a financial hole all of the way to China—literally.  You see overspending is a disease.  Whether it’s a person with a credit card and no self-control, or a government willing to indebt itself to a communist country, spending more than what’s coming in is a horrendous pattern in need of immediate reversal. 

 The good news is reversing the course of a spending disease is not very difficult.

 Millions of families around our country, set their spending level below their income level.  Your mom and I’ve done this from the very beginning.   That’s why Drew’s earliest years were spent in a $350 a month apartment with second hand clothes, and limited activities.  It wasn’t the most glamorous beginning, but by living with self-discipline early, we eventually were able to slowly improve our life style.  There were sacrifices involved but our priorities were well placed. 

 We were planning for the future by working hard, saving, and controlling our spending. 

 There are so very few public examples of financial self discipline.  After all, one would think it would be reasonable to expect our government to balance its budget but we have been living in a spend-happy country for many years and administrations now. 

 And that makes me worry even more.  If the spending disease is allowed to advance the consequences will be dire.  Valuable government services (i.e. defense, Medicare, social security, Medicaid, etc.) are in the path of the disease, and will ultimately suffer greatly if  this disease is not treated.  The private sector will be damaged, as well. 

 Everyone hurts when a budget is not balanced.  How would we be able to support those less fortunate if we didn’t spend less than we earn?  The same holds true for the government.  The government is but years away from having to begin to pull the support for those in society who truly need help. 

 So I’m imploring you and everyone else who is fiscally responsible to send an emphatic message to the powers that be.  We have a lot hanging in the balance and it’s my hope we look back at this moment in history as one in which we collectively fix this problem for future generations.   

 Balance thy budget.  It’s the most ethical way to live! 

Love,

Your Father

Today we are preparing for our second family birthday celebration in forty days. On August  11^th Reagan and Isabella turned one and tomorrow Drew turns eighteen.  The contrast between their two parties is distinct with the twins’ being a huge parent celebration about “ surviving the first year” and Saturday being a “Holy sh*t!  Didn’t we just celebrate your first birthday, Drew?” added to, “you better not cancel out my vote in November”.  Actually, Reagan and Isabella’s first year seemed like five, while Drew’s eighteen have flown by in a blink.  Regardless, they are both celebrations on my parenting journey and as happy as I am, I’m taking pause today to issue my first of one hundred bits of advice. 

 

 

 

 

 

Now is the time to enjoy.

 

Is there a greater blessing than right now? 

 

I know the fact that this statement is coming from  me—the same man who began saving for his kids’ college before they were conceived—is shocking.  But this is a do as I say, not as I’ve done kind of message.  I admit to having thought so much about the future that, at times, the present was merely a conduit to where I wanted to go.

 

I’m changing my ways.

 

Now, make no mistake.  I’m not totally dismissing the importance of being ready—planning for your futures is important.  But I also understand the importance of embracing the now and enjoying every second of the day.   Not only is happiness always around the bend, happiness is always in the moment!

 

 

 

What does embracing ‘now’ look like for me?

 

I try to come out firing on all cylinders in the morning.  As I enter the darkness of the twins’ bedroom, I sing a “good morning” song.  I want to make sure they are smiling at their first sight of daylight—even if it’s before daylight!  For Mary Kate, it means trying to match her over-the-top positive energy as she eagerly awaits even the most mundane activities like going to school, going to the grocery story, or going to get gas.   For Ryan and Drew, the moments I sit around the kitchen table with them each evening, recounting the day or debating a topic, have become precious.   I prefer they not melt away when they head to their rooms for studies, and me to my evenings. In-between the morning and evening, it means putting everything into serving my clients, the kids I coach, and the organizations I support.   

 

I’ve learned it’s the only way to live.

 

 

 

 

There was a time when I used to think when a person died they were done.   Now I understand that most people die while they are doing.  I hope and pray there will be a tomorrow but I know the only absolute guarantee in life is that some day tomorrow will not arrive. 

 

So what do I do with this understanding?

 

I believe I should live life with one eye on the horizon and other on the next step.

 

 

There are very few parents who have the blessing of celebrating a first and eighteenth birthdays of their children within the space of a month.   On Saturday evening our home will be alive with over thirty teenagers for a birthday celebration that I, for one, will embrace as it happens, knowing Sunday will probably come, but it’s never guaranteed.

 

Happy Birthday, Drew.  I can’t believe you are eighteen.  I’m so happy with the man you’ve become!  Your mom and I are waiting with baited breath to see where your life takes you.  I know it’s going to be magical! 

 

 

“Children may not listen to what you say, but they will read what you write and watch what you do.”

Dear Kids,

I have a very difficult time expressing my feelings in conversation and in many respects I guess this is the definition of a man. That’s why I make a point to tell you I love you each day and those awkwardly unpleasant (for you) attempts to hug you. Often I find it easier to express my feelings through writing.   Perhaps it’s because I can’t see the eye rolling or won’t know the TV volume’s been turned up when I write. Or maybe it’s because sometimes it’s easier for teenagers to read thoughts from their parents.  Listening, for kids, can be such a dreaded chore.

So I’m writing you a letter. 

In fact, I’m going to write a series of letters inspired by a medical diagnosis that has altered my perspective.  I know, I know—news flash—I’m not going to live forever.  This may come as a surprise to you but nobody was more shocked to learn of my mortality than myself.  I used to think I’d live forever.  It’s funny how a little medical diagnosis can force one to grapple with his time. 

As you know after some tests on my heart, at the Cleveland Clinic, it turns out there is a glitch with my aorta.  The doctors are calling it an aortic aneurysm, a condition that has to be monitored quite closely.  It’s a complicated diagnosis because the condition has the potential to cause sudden death, but the remedy is risky so the recommendation right now is to wait and monitor it over time.  If the aneurysm grows to a predetermined size, I’ll undergo an aortic replacement, which I here isn’t a run in the park.  So right now, I’m relying on the expertise of the finest cardiologists in the world and, of course, as with everything, my fate is ultimately in the hands of God. 

Hopefully my number doesn’t come up and these letters will help our relationship by providing you some insights on topics you prefer not to discuss in person.  In the event my number does come up—and after you make sure I look good in the casket and monitor mom to make sure she is appropriately saddened by my departure—reference these letters for advice and to learn more about my dreams for you—they are countless.  

Love,  Dad

My sons’ high school just announced that they will be implementing mandatory random drug testing for the student body and faculty members for the upcoming school year.  The test will be by hair sample and will detect drug use over a multiple month period.

There is no fence sitting when a policy like this lands on your plate.  Either you are for it or against it. 

I am for it and you may be surprised to learn why.

 I believe drug testing is the ultimate “out” for our teenagers.  I’m positive my children will, some day during their high school years, be in a social situation where drugs are introduced.  Based on this prediction, I would like to arm my children with as many reasons to say “no” as possible.  With drug testing, a new arrow has been added to their quiver of reasons to decline.  “I can’t do it.  My school tests and I can be picked at any time” is the ultimate out and is nearly unobjectionable.  The way I see it, drug testing is just another life raft to throw our children who are navigating the stormy seas of teenage living.

 There is no upside to drug use and it is better to catch it early.  Most parents I speak with prefer to lie to themselves about what their children are exposed to.  A positive test will cause these parents to face reality.  A positive test, according to this policy, is not fatal.  Intead it’s an opportunity to intervene before a bad habit becomes a dangerous addiction.

This drug testing will equip parents with valuable knowledge.  Instead of lying awake in the middle of the night wondering, I’ll have a solid answer about what my sons are doing while away from me.  I do trust my kids, but I’m happy to receive verification of their choices via these tests.

I hope the bold move by my sons’ school will encourage other schools, public and private, to implement a similar policy.  Why not arm all of our kids with this weapon of resistance?  When not force all parents to face the reality of their child’s drug use for the betterment of their children’s futures? 

 So, I say…bring it on.  Please drug test my kids.  Regardless of the results, I’ll do my job as a parent and deal with the consequences in a manner that will best benefit my children. 

To read more about the drug testing policy in place at St. John Jesuit high school click here!

I know I haven’t been around much lately.  Funny how my disappearance coincides with the births of our twin daughters.  Try to type with two bottles in your hands. Well, after my eight month hiatus, I’m coming up for air to share some observations.   

 Mary Kate, our four year old daughter and I play a game we call “run around”.   As the name suggests, in this game we run around chasing each other.  The game started out simply enough, but over the past nine months the skills required to play have been upped a notch.  Let me give you a visual of what playing “run around” looked like nine months ago versus what it looks like now.

 Nine months Ago – Mary Kate takes off from our family room, through the kitchen and down the hallway.  I’m chasing her.  She turns left, avoids the dining room table, heads back into the kitchen, around the island and returns to the family room. After going around the couches, we make it back to where we started.  A near sprint with a total of 15 seconds elapsing. All you could hear was our laughing and yelling “run around, run around.”

Last Night – I take off from the family room with Mary Kate chasing me.  Immediately the jumperoo, which is noise sensitive, goes off sounding like a carnival of sorts.  After first five steps, I cut to my left, avoiding not one but two swings. As we enter the kitchen there are two excersaucer obstacles to avoid with a hard pivot to the right.  As we pass, Reagan and Isabella shriek with excitement and start hitting buttons which causes circus-like music to begin playing and neon lights to start blinking.  It looks like the lights in a Vegas casino.  As we head down the hallway, each step brings squeaky noises from stuffed animals being trampled. We hang a left into the former dining room, which is now the “overflow baby inventory” room, and are forced down on all fours to navigate tumultuous terrain. We’re back on our feet in the kitchen and after avoiding the island we hurdle two high chairs trying to avoid the applesauce residue that could cause us to slip.  . Returning to the jumperoos in the family room, we are exhausted and fall back into a rocking chair, only to set off a siren symphony with our first rock back, as a button is pushed on a toy under the chair. Time elapsed: 62 seconds.

 I would not trade it for the world.

We watch a lot of ESPN in this house.  Most days, the stories are about stunning upsets, amazing feats of athleticism, or last weekend’s controversial call.  Of course, athletes are notorious for behaving badly, so there are also occasions when the sports news-of-the-day is scandalous.  We don’t shelter our teenage boys from these stories.  Instead, we try to use the poor choices that precipitate most scandals as teachable moments about impulse control, the dangers of greed or the importance of honesty and integrity.  This week’s college football scandal has been a challenge, however.     How does a parent explain to their kids that not one…not two… but several Penn State coaches and administrators turned a blind eye to a man who was sexually abusing children? 

 As I drove my 14 year old son to school this morning, we listened to the Penn State updates and discussed what was happening.  I expressed how hurt I was for the young victims and their parents; how angry I was towards the rapist and all who enabled him for such a long period of time.  I wondered aloud if any of the enablers allowed their children or grandchildren to be around Jerry Sandusky over the past thirteen years?  I bet they didn’t.    “Who cares about everyone else’s children,” seems to have been their motto.  Then, I explained that those who turned away and did nothing to prevent the victimization of the next child, are complicit.  As a society, we must hold the enablers responsible in the same way we would hold the driver of a get-away car responsible.   

It was tough and, frankly, sad to watch my fourteen year old try to understand how so many adults could fail to do the right thing.  It was also rewarding to see that he clearly understood that every adult has a moral obligation to step in and stop any crime against a child, regardless of personal consequences.  We cannot turn our backs on any child—EVER.  Every adult who learned about Jerry Sandusky’s crimes should have moved heaven and Earth to see that justice was served and every other child was protected from this sexual predator.  

I shudder to think of a society where selfish concerns—like a football program, a job, or the reputation of a university—trump the safety and well-being of children.  As the details of the Penn State cover-up unfold, however, it seems as though we are on the cusp of living in such a world.  Instead of rushing to the defense of the enablers, or rioting in the streets because a beloved football coach was fired, the students and faculty at Penn State should be taking action to support the real victims; the eight boys that we know about, and the others that may never come forward. 

It’s the victims who have my prayers, support and sympathy.  I can only hope and pray that everyone else involved, gets what they deserve.

Dear Isabella and Reagan,

You hit the big ten weeks today and you are as beautiful as ever.  Every day I speak with many people who ask how you are doing.  A reporter from Germany flew to Toledo this morning to take a peek at you and share her observations with everyone back in her country.  Your arrival was greatly anticipated—no more than by me and mom.  Last night, just like every night, is so precious with you.  Rocking in my chair, Reagan, you were in my left arm and Isabella, you laid in my right arm.  With each back and forth of the rocker, you drifted off to sleep.  I have to admit, I faded a bit myself, but no one can convince me there is a better feeling.  I know you won’t remember these nights, but mom and I treasure them. As we rocked together I thought about the possibilities of the future.  A few observations—and bits of advice—flooded my brain.  I want to share them with you today.

-          As you are just learning to smile and giggle I want you to never forget to smile and laugh every day of your life.

-          You came into this world together!  May you always be the best of friends.  I hope and pray Drew, Ryan, Mary Kate and you will always be there to support each other.

-          In the face of adversity and pain, dig deeper and never give up.  You would not be here if it was not for perseverance and, of course, God’s grace.

-          God does exist.  Logan is proof of that… as are you.  Your mom and I would not have survived the past thirty months without our faith.

-          Hard work is always rewarded.  In life you should never get something for nothing as it will surely go away because it is not valued. 

-          Avoid envy and greed.  Live simply.  The best things in life are free. 

-          Live life to the fullest

-           Be thankful.  We are thankful for Jennifer who brought you to us.  Always honor her.

Love,

Dad

P.S.  There are a few more things I almost forgot…

Hey Reagan and Isabella,

-          Sleep at night…not in the day

-          Quit waking each other up!

-          Give notice (five seconds notice before you puking on me would be very nice!)

-          Live frugally! (Let’s start with learning to digest something other than the most expensive formula!)

-          Be patient! (Could you hold off filling your diaper until at least thirty minutes after changing it?)

-          Have realistic expectations.  When I am holding both of you, could you keep the binky in your mouth? (I don’t have a third arm!)

-          Respect the game! Try not to start crying the minute I crack open a beer and sit down to watch football. 

Everyone tells me I’ll blink and be walking them down the aisle.  Well out of desperation, I tried that last night! When I opened my eyes, they still needed their diapers changed!

Truly, we are embracing every moment.  God has blessed us more than we deserve.

Reagan and Isabella

We’ve had a few false alarms regarding the upcoming delivery of our twin daughters.  Every time it’s happened, I have been flooded with excitement and a little anxiety.  While waiting for the go ahead to jump in the car and make the drive to Jennifer’s hospital, I’ve found myself asking, Am I ready? Am I really ready? 

 I think the reasons for my added anxiety are because of the unique circumstances of our journey.  You see, even though our first three children arrived in the midst of some crazy deliveries the mere fact that these babies are coming as the result of such an amazing sacrifice by another person—Jennifer—makes the situation much different.  Jennifer’s generous spirit is making a dream of ours a reality.  She is enduring a great deal with the pregnancy and surely will have a sense of accomplishment upon delivery.  I can’t help but wonder though—is she going to feel a little bit of a loss after the babies are born? This worry has inspired us to prepare for the arrival of our daughters in a unique manner.  We’ve envisioned the celebration of their arrival, but we are also committed to staying cognicent of Jennifer’s role in their lives.  This delivery will be handled gently with celebration, thanksgiving and sensitivity.

 The second difference is that the birth of our twin daughters comes as the culminating event of a long and challenging journey.   It began with the shocking news of Carolyn’s mistaken pregnancy and continued beyond the relinquishing of Logan at birth.  Carolyn and I have been blessed to spend time with Logan on two occasions over the past seventy five days and what a boost those moments have been for us.  To hold the child we reunited with his genetic parents upon birth is rewarding.  The occasional glimpses we get into his world are greatly appreciated, but the not knowing about his day to day welfare still stings.  I guess that’s why the pending arrival of our twin girls has a redemptive feeling for me.  Despite our loss, Carolyn and I made a decision as important as the decisions to protect Logan’s life and to not fight for custody.  We decided to fight for more children.  Failures came but we refused to give up.  We clawed our way to a new day and a triumphant victory.  Our inspiration for this came from each other, but also from you.  Thousands and thousands of people from all over the world inspired us to persevere.  Sure there are some detractors who are outspoken and tell us everything we did was wrong.  We also know there are some who hold those same thoughts in silence. Thank God our supporters and our belief in what is right allowed us to focus on a hope-filled future.  Now we are on the doorstep of two beautiful miracles because God gave us the resolve to keep on “keeping on” despite pain, loss, and suffering and because your messages of support lifted us when we needed it.  The enormity of what we have been through and what is about to happen feels different than anything I have ever experienced. 

 Carolyn and I will keep you closely posted in the coming days.  Please continue to keep Jennifer and our daughters in your prayers.  It won’t be long now.  We are definitely on the doorstep of a miracle.

A couple of weeks ago Carolyn asked me out for a nice dinner. As we sat at the table she pulled out a piece of paper and a pen and said “Tonight we name the babies!”  I should have known this scenario could unfold as she pulled the same trick about a year ago when we spent an entire night out trying to name our book. The ultimate title, Inconceivable, didn’t come to us that night and I was fairly certain that we wouldn’t come up with names for our girls during this night out either.   You see, the fact is, I’ve avoided the naming subject for months because my theory about naming our kids has always been “You have to see the baby to name him/her”.

 I believe my angst over names stems from my childhood.  When I was born my parents named me Shawn.  When I was five my parents traveled to Ireland where they learned that “Sean” translates to “John”, my father’s name.  Upon their return, they legally changed the spelling of my name which wouldn’t have been such a traumatic turn of events if I hadn’t just learned to write it.    

 Then there was the delivery room scene at our oldest’s birth.  Just minutes after he was born, I remember the labor and delivery nurse asking us what his name was.   Carolyn and I look at each other, not having reached a definitive conclusion, and Carolyn said “Andrew Sean Savage”.  I liked the name but then flashed forward thirteen years visualizing my son as the butt of many jokes because his initials were ASS.  Needless to say, his middle name is “John”. 

 Coming up with names for our daughters has proven to be tough.  Our list is somewhat limited because of my huge family.  And, naming twin girls with names that balance one another is a difficult task.  We don’t want them to rhyme and we have no requirement about them having the same initials.  We just want them to sound good together when we are shouting for them in the back yard or on the soccer field. They also have to sound good with the middle names we have chosen…Linda (for Carolyn’s mother) and Jennifer (for obvious reasons.) 

 Last week I burst through the door from work and announced to Carolyn, “I have the names!”  She turned around with a surprised look on her face.  I said, “Rita and Margo”  .  She crinkled her nose not understanding. So I reversed the order and said “Margorita” as I grabbed the tequila and blender from the cupboard.  I thought it was funny but I think she was annoyed.    

 So, we don’t have names for our daughters yet.  They are due in about six weeks, so time is running short.  If you have any suggestions please send them along.  To help you channel your creativity, there is a list of names below that we can’t use because either we don’t like them, or they are already taken by a family member or close friend.  We look forward to hearing your suggestions.

 We Can’t Name Them…

Kristen

Katie

Gretchen

Meredith

Megan

Kerigan

Lauren

Teagan

Olivia

Emily

Elizabeth

Margo

Rita

Maria

Mia

Hailey

Lily

Emma

Ellie

Mary

Abigail

Eliza

Eden

     I miss my dad.  He died eighteen years ago, but regardless of how much time has passed, I think of him every day.  Usually memories of him come rushing back to me through an image, or by remembering a morsel of wisdom he imparted.  Trust me when I tell you, he was a wise man—full of life, love and joy.  I’m sure most of us can conjure similar memories of our fathers.  If he were alive today, I think the perfect Father’s Day gift would be to give him a letter of thanks that expresses the ways in which he positively impacted my life.  Of course, that’s not possible because he’s no longer with me.  So in lieu of telling him, I’m going to share the most impactful lessons he taught me, with you!

 Stay Positive by Being Thankful

My dad had a positive aura about him that was infectious.  He believed a person’s state-of-mind sets one’s course in life.  He used to repeat regularly, “It’s impossible to be thankful and depressed at the same time”.  He laughed and smiled everyday and constantly reassured us kids that “the future has never been clearer or brighter.”

 Work Hard, Every Day

My dad was a work-horse.  He instilled his work ethic in us from our earliest days.  His constantly told us,  “Work half days…12 hours!”  My dad was out the door before I got up in the morning and there were many nights that I said goodnight to him as he poured through his work files preparing for the next day.

 Live within Your Means

There is no doubt that despite his financial success, he was a spend thrift.  He grew up with nine siblings and learned his frugality from his resourceful parents.  His financial lessons were simple but profound.  “Save half your income and you will never have a financial problem”.   We could count on that tidbit coming out of his mouth at least once a day. It was wise financial advice.  One can only imagine what our economy would be like if everyone lived this sentiment.   

 Give Back

John Fox Savage has a generous heart of gold.  “Give until it feels good,” was an expression he inverted from the famous quote, “Give until it hurts.”   He lived this motto through many of his charitable activities.  One of the more memorable for me always occurred at Christmas when he’d fill our van with frozen turkeys and drive through the inner city giving holiday dinner away to anyone in need!  Of course, this act was anonymous, as my job (along with my siblings) was to run to the front door, ring the door bell, drop the turkey and hightail it back to the van before we could be spotted.    He didn’t want credit for his kindness.  He taught us that true gifts are given without the expectation of acknowledgement. 

 Be Faith-Filled

My father was a Godly man who had an unshakeable faith.  Raised a Catholic, he never thought his religion superior to others and in speaking to crowds would say, “If you do not have a religion, get one.”   He believed that any faith that was practiced with love would benefit the believer.  Every night before bed my parents would gather all nine of us for prayer.  Sundays were for church. I am so lucky that my parents raised me to have such a deep faith.  I am better for it.

     I miss my father.  He died way too soon, at the youthful age of 62.  Although he has been gone for nearly two decades, his spirit lives on and his legacy is carried by his kids and grandkids.  Even though my three children never met their Grandpa John, they get to know him through stories written about him, and by listening to us reminisce about his antics—which albeit are often funny, are also mired in profound wisdom.  I’m lucky that he was my dad.  I can only hope that my children will someday say the same about me. 

 Happy Father’s Day to all the dads out there!  We are blessed to have you!