I might make this a reoccurring post for myself as I find a huge amount of therapy in expressing my heart on paper. I also want one day for Desmond to read my struggles, and understand its O.K to struggle as a man. Being a man is very difficult. No one gives you a handbook on how to be a one. Sure there is the Bible, but it can be confusing and hard to dig deep into what it is telling you to do. To me the bible only truly starts to make sense when I am at my lowest point in life and struggles. Recently I have felt my spirit has been broken, and all the hurts I have had in the world started to build on my shoulders, and I just could not carry them any more. I closed myself off from friends, and I forgot how to be myself around them. I didn’t want to blog, or share or do anything. I just wanted to shut myself off from everyone, and that’s when I truly started to see the real hurt I inflicted on those around me. I had built this bubble around myself for protection, safety, and selfishness, and I started to suffocate inside it, and I had no idea why.

I just finished John Eldrege’s book: “Wild at Heart” I mentioned back in August that I started it, but stopped reading it until last week, and I blew through it. It spoke to me in ways that not many other books have before, and it pointed out a lot of things I was blaming myself for. It also pointed out that I was not listening or relying on God enough. I saw that in some parts of my life I needed to take a step back, and in other parts I needed to take a step forward. I needed to be more Christ like to those I love, and to those I do not. I needed to forgive, and I needed to be forgiven. I needed to let go of my anger and hurt, and in order to do that I needed to take a deeper look into myself and I needed to change.

So Desmond, its O.K to be scared, its O.K to not know what is going on all the time. The true test of a man is to Love, and Love fiercely. Love with all your heart, be a Warrior, be a fighter, stand up for what you believe in, and take a chance at living life, failure is not failing if you get back up and you try again, learning from the mistake and then taking a different approach, and that’s not always the easy one, but this is how you succeed and grow.

C.S. Lewis wrote in his book Mere Christianity,(which I am currently reading) it says” “We all want progress,  but progress means getting nearer to the place where you want to be. And if you have taken a wrong turn, then to go forward does not get you any nearer. If you are on the wrong road, progress means doing an about-turn and walking back to the right road; and in that case the man who turns back soonest is the most progressive man.”

My failures have been that I was going down the wrong road, or the safe road, and then sitting on the side of it, because I did not know where else to go. It was safe there,  but it got very lonely. So I am heading back  now, and this time I am following Gods direction, not my own.

The title of this post is appropriate because I am currently reading a book by that title, and it fits so much with what I have done the last few weeks. You may know by now that I recently took a trip to the “Middle east”.  There are two sides to this trip that I can share. The side I can share with you personally, and the side I can share with you publicly.  I will share the public side of this trip on the blog, if you want the personal side you will have to get with me.

So where do I even begin? I did not go with Jackie, or Desmond, this journey was my journey, a chance to grow in ways I could not even being to imagine. I did things I would never dreamed of doing. I saw things I never could have imagined.

I got to coast over sand dunes in a land rover going 40mph for over an hour into the desert, not a soul to be seen for miles. I watched the sunset into the sky and into the sand, it went down where I was, and was coming up for my friends back home. I got to hold a falcon on my arm, and eat a meal under the dead of night under the stars of the desert. I saw buildings in a city made for the future, money pouring from the sky and being spent as if it was nothing. I saw an entire country being built from the ground up, a new birth, an empire.

I walked the hallways of a palace, gold ceilings, tile floors, the cost of this place was 40 billion US dollars, a 7 star hotel, a rich and wealthy life style of fame and fortune of the likes I had never seen. I stood and walked with my head looking up and my mouth wide open. I was completely awestruck.

I saw all that first hand, but that is not what made me grow or learn who I was, and what I could do. I walked the streets of poverty, and saw the true people of this place. I made friends with strangers who had nothing to give but friendship and hospitality. An open heart, a longing for a friend to connect with.

I met people, strangers, new friends, and even brothers. I played soccer on the beach of the Persian Gulf with boys from Egypt, not a word of English to be spoken. I boarded a Somalian cargo boat, heading to Iran or Somalia, or where ever their destination brought them. I hung out with a crew of men, all brothers, all of them not a word of English, but they welcomed me, they brought me a seat, cold water, we sat we talked, we took pictures, how incredible is that?

I rode in a van through the desert in 120 degree weather with no air conditioning crammed to the seat and window for 3 hours, and I loved it. I was in it, I journaled my thoughts and emotions at that very moment. I was uncomfortable, hot and tired, but I was happy. I was living on the edge. I was stepping out of my normal lifestyle I was giving up the iphone, I was unplugged from the net, and I had no desire to facebook my status. No one would believe me anyway! I was growing on the inside, I was in God’s hands and he was leading the way.

I fell in love with the people there, the ones who are lost, the ones who needed a connection, a human connection, a piece of love that they were missing. I gave them that, and they gave me so much more. They helped me conquer my fear of of the heart, they helped me find what matters most and most of all they helped me find myself.

down, down, down I go.

So I have noticed a trend over the last few months, and its a hard reality really. My blog is taking a hit in stats, and the numbers are dropping more and more each week. I blame Oprah and Ashton. They single handedly sucked the coolness out of the internet last week. Actually just twitter. Sure I jumped on the wagon for a little bit and followed him. I wanted to see what the fuss was all about, that lasted about 4 days. A word of advice, Ashton is not funny on twitter, and Oprah is a total noob, so much so that her 1st tweet had to be edited by twitter.com themselves. Seriously? Yes.

I love twitter to keep me updated with my friends, and family. I love my friends and family, and I love that they can make me laugh 140 characters at a time. Who is my favorite twitters? @kellyrutledge and  @hogi82 and why? Because I have no idea what is come out of their mouths next, they keeps it real YO.

So lets get into facebook, yes facebook is like twitter, but so much more. Actually its too much more at times. They have got to fix some things. Like the stupid apps, I mean who the heck wants to know What Flavor Jolly Rancher Defines You as a Person? or What TV Show Character Looks Like Your Dog? or What City Are You Most Likely to Fart in Next? I do not care! delete, delete, delete. It drives me crazy! I DO want to know what you are doing, and make it witty, make me smile, show me a picture, share your family, your struggles, your laughs, let me get to know you better for who you really are, this is what facebook is about. Connection, laughs and a daily dose of something new each day.

I have had a number of friend requests from people I only knew for half a second 10 years ago. I am sorry “blast from the past” but there is a check list you must pass before I can add you as a friend, and if you do not meet those requirements you will sit in my pending page until I get around to ignoring you completely. Delete

I think some people are in it for the numbers, some people have like 700+ friends. Seriously 700? Ok Ashton wanna be Kutcher. If you really know 700+ people, more power too you, that is awesome, I would hate to see your Christmas Card and stamps bill. Please do not think I am bashing facebook, I LOVE it. I love seeing status updates, and pictures of everyone, this is what I love the most, and chatting back and forth on comments of status updates. I am just worried about it turning into another myspace which I abandoned long long ago. Facebook, please fix the filters so I can have it the way I want it, take Burger Kings idea and give it to me my way. Thanks.

Anyway there is my rant for the year, nagoh.com is loosing the war on visitors, people want there info all in one place, and I can understand that, its just a sad day when I know nagoh.com doesn’t get the buzz it use to get. Maybe I should blame Obama to0, nagoh needs a stimulas package.

One day last week we were unable to find the following items, two sippy cups, tivo remote, tv remote, tax paper work, socks, and a shoe. That evening when it was bath time, I go to turn on the water, and as I look into the bathtub, I see all of the above items. As I am reaching into the bathtub to fish all these things out, I am hit in the back of the head with a rubber ducky. You see Desmond it seems is into gathering things, and throwing them over the edge of something.

A few days ago I walk around the outside of the house and see random items laying under each window, again a sippy cup, paper work, vacuume cleaner parts, shoes, whatever he can find. If a window is open, either he is throwing something out it or he himself is trying to climb out it. He also now loves to climb things. Like stand on top of a box, or a toy or whatever is within reach. I think my child might be a squirrel! He likes to gather things, and climb things.

The reality of it is, the little baby has turned into a little boy, a little boy who goes vroom vroom at the sound of a truck driving by. He is all boy! It’s incredible to watch it unfold before my eyes each day. A new fun game he likes to play is running away from me. You see when its time for bed and the diaper gets changed, there is a moment there when I have to let go of him to get his jammies on. In that brief moment he is gone like a bullet, out the door and around the corner into the living room, around the kitchen, and up the hallway. He is ridiculously fast, and I am getting old.

The picture above was taken over Easter holidays, it was in the last post, but I wanted to use it again, because I think it symbolizes a milestone in his life. He is growing up and needing us a little less. He wants to explore, he wants to run away and see things for himself. It is exciting and sad at the same time. I know this chapter in his life and my life will be a recurring one. There will be other times when he runs away, and needs us less. This is just my first glimpse at it.

Over two years ago we bought the big house with the big yard. It was part of the American Dream. We both had great jobs, the cars were paid off, we had little to no debt except for a mortgage. We found a new church, we were making new friends, we had time for ourselves when we wanted it. Life was good and on track. Then 19 months ago our world changed in the form of two pink lines. Those two pink lines pointed us in a new direction. We had some serious changes ahead of us. One of us was going to stay home to care for the new baby. This was always the case for us. Now we needed to figure out how to make that work. Jackie and I had a plan, but now had to make a new plan. That plan was to first get her schooling/job finished. Then we needed to sell the house. A beautiful house that was perfect to raise a family in. The huge private yard, the cul-de-sac. It was a tough pill to swallow. It was just going to be too expensive on one income. For months we chewed on it. We played with the numbers, it was too tight to risk. We finally stuck the sign in the yard. Now we had to wait. Wait for the right buyer at the right time, in a market that is just awful. God would provide is what we kept telling ourselves. God Will Provide….he has before he will again.

We have always landed on our feet. I have told Jackie this for years. I use to be a worrier. When I met Jackie I found someone who could worry more then me. I quickly realized we can’t both be worried together. We both needed to be warriors, we both needed each to balance the other one out. We found each other, we found Faith, and we found the right balance that got us through all our tough times. There were some dark days over the past few months with no end in sight, but I had to have faith that this time we would land on our feet again.

This past few months, and this past week have been some of the hardest times we have ever had to endure. We sold the house, we moved our belongings, our entire life, and we did it all with the help of God, family and friends. We have once again landed on our feet. We did all of the above for those two pink lines. Those two pink lines we now call Desmond. The sweet little boy we love with all our hearts. The one person we would do anything for, sacrifice everything for, because in the end, its not about the house, its not about the cars, or the two jobs with the nice income. Its about being, happy, healthy, and together. It has been a tough 19 months, but now we have reached our goal. Jackie can stay home with Desmond, and we can be together as a family, and I would do it all again tomorrow.

Jackie and Desmond, I love you both with every ounce of strength I have to give.
Greg.

For some reason when it comes time to sit down at night, I am unable to unless things are in order. What do I mean by in order? I mean if the floor is littered with toys, shoes, socks, paper, magazines, ect. I have to organize them so they are nice and straight in an orderly fashion before I can watch TV. Now that Desmond is around this is a nightly routine! Its incredible how much that boy can pull out of 4 boxes and scatter across a room in the course of a few hours! Blocks, books, stuffed animals, wheels off cars, dog bowls! Its insane! It doesn’t stop there though. Pillows on a couch have to be in order, and throws have to be folded. Jackie and her mom hate that I fold throws. They are meant to be thrown! I fold them, always and place them neatly on the back of a sofa. Kelly can vouch for this, if she steps out of her house for an hour, and I am there, when she comes back usually the place has been straightened, and I am sitting watching TV like nothing happened. I won’t do it in front of her. I just like to go about it, alone, no questions or strange looks to slow me down. If I do not know where something goes I place it somewhere neatly. We are in the process of moving, and stuff is EVERYWHERE! I hate it. I want to get rid of all my stuff and own like 4 things. Laptop, xbox, tv, itouch. Ok maybe a few other gadget things to make my tech life effective, but everything else can go! Ohh and just so you know, I hate cleaning, don’t ask me to clean your toilet and expect it to sparkly. I just align things in place so they look neat. That’s where my obsession stops. The above is a picture of Desmond toys all lined up in the living room awaiting his destruction.

Dear Desmond,

your daddy was born in Ireland, and moved here to America when we was a small boy. Here is the story of how it all happened.

18 years ago today when I was a weee lad, my family packed our bags and set sail for the new world leaving Ireland behind us. We sold all our belongings. Mamo sold her favorite teapot, Pop’s sold his favorite fishing rod and potato, your Auntie Jenn sold her favorite Barbie Ferrari and Kylie Minogue cassette tape, and your Daddy sold his favorite Star Wars everything! and his favorite goat, I loved that goat.

We made our way to the docks, where our ship awaited. Her name was the Crytanic, they named her this, because everyone that ever boarded cried as they left their home land. It was handcrafted by many a drunk irishman, and glued together with mashed potatoes and peas. She was a beauty. As we left the port of Shannon, we could hear the sounds of Leprechauns, Fairies and Nana crying because the Hogans were leaving Ireland, we waved and hugged each other as we sailed off through a sea of shamrocks and into the sunset.

The trip was a long one, we ate spuds and soda bread for days on end. It was a good thing they had hot tea, or we all would have died on that ship. The seas were rough, I lost my spuds a few good times, but we held on, for America was close, and soon we could eat some McDonald’s, because this was our reason for leaving Ireland. It was all about the BigMac. I have moved on to Whoppers now, because whoppers are for big boys. One day you will understand. Little did I know that also one day I would marry the American Girl of my dreams, but she would frown upon my American Dream of BigMac’s and Fries. Your mom is a strange American woman, she does not eat meat. But one day when you are older, you will understand the power of love and what you are willing to do for it. (Don’t worry me and  you will eat whoppers).

Anyway, I am getting off track. When the Crytanic landed in Warner Robins, GA (don’t ask me what port, I think its closed now) we were so excited! But Desmond, the excitement faded when I realized that American’s had no sense of color for the outside. Everything was brown and dead. The color green did not seem to exist! I had never seen brown grass before. I cried, and ran back to the boat, I wanted to go home, but it had already sailed away down the I-75 river. I was stuck here in the land of the brown. I missed my goat.

Ohh but don’t worry Desmond, things changed and got better. I made new friends, sure they were not leprechauns or fairies (ok some where, but a different kind). I met your mom, I had my family. Today America is now home for us, 18 years is a long time, but it feels like yesterday. One day I will take you to Ireland, and we will hunt for treasure, dig for gold, find a leprechaun, and chase a goat. I will show you what I left behind so that I could find your mom, and also find you. You see Desmond, your my little Ireland, your my little leprechaun, and you are the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

And that is how and why we moved to America!
The End.

There was a few times this last week where I thought, “if I just get in this car and drive, I can drive away and no one will find me! I can hide, and escape everything!” But no that was not what I did. You see my car has no A/C and I do not like to drive in it very long. I hate sweating. Plus I would not have got very far because Desmond can chase me down now! It is official, the boy can crawl. He is all over the place. I am not safe anywhere. Tonight I was trying to set my camera up on my tripod to take a photo of the moon. Wherever I moved in the living room, he was after me on all fours, before I knew it he was eating my ankles swinging from the tripod. He thought it was a giant new toy! So we had some fun and took some photos. I seem to remember a time when it was much easier to take photos of him. I would just plop him down on the floor and snap away. Now I plop him down, get in position, and he is gone! Or he is chasing me down. So all the photos are of him crawling as fast as he can towards me! My subject is now a moving target, and has a mind of his own! He wants to tackle me, or the camera. Ohh and he loves cables. All kinds, as long as its long, and attached to something expensive like a laptop or plasma tv, or xbox, or lamp, or cordless phone…….hahaa just seeing if you were paying attention. Nothing is safe anymore. I gave him some network cable this weekend, he was thrilled to be able to chew on some CAT5. Here are some photos from today.

As a side note. This has been an eventful blog posting. I started writing this post at 10pm, its now after midnight. I have been up and down back and forth from the computer. You see Desmond has a tummy bug. So far its been three cribsheet changes, three outfit changes, and some time in the dry bathtub together so he could throw up freely without concern for surrondings. It is going to be a long night. Jackie is with him now. She is such a good mom. He is not upset, just tired, and confused as to why he cant keep his dinner down.

I would never run away from what life throws my way. Even if I did have a car with A/C. You see I have a little boy who needs me, and a wife who loves me. No amount of bad days can take that away. Love for each other keeps us going. I hope everyone has a great week! Ohh and Wednesday I will have some video of him crawling!

What is The American Dream? This is something I have been asking myself a lot here lately. I feel I have a unique perspective on this question, because I am not from America. My mom and dad moved here to find the American Dream. They moved here for my sister and I to find it. Americans had found it, so now it was our turn to try and find it. When I was about seven years old, long before I knew I was moving to America I had a dream I was in American….flying (yes flying) around tall buildings (hang in there Kelly, I am not going to get all dream interpretation on you) but I dream t of America. I think I had just seen the music video “Born in the USA” so somehow it snuck into my night time dreams. Five years later when I turned twelve, we packed five suitcases and got on a plane and that was it, bye bye Ireland, hello USA.

Am I living the American Dream? Back then the dream was big house, big car, big TV, everything was cheap, money was no object, because this was America! Eighteen years later that dream seems so silly. Now, I am trying to sell my big house, avoid a big car, everything is expensive! Ok I am keeping the Big TV, sorry.  So the dream has changed. My American Dream is now very different. An old friend introduced me to their husband this weekend, and said, “this is Greg, he is from Ireland, but has a southern accent” I kinda sunk in my seat a little bit. I am not knocking the southern accent (Leigh Anne), but it kinda hit me…….I am one of US now. Was that not my dream? To be American? To fit in? I guess it was. So to answer my question, Yes. I am living the American Dream, because I married an American Girl, I have an American Boy, and now I am an American Man, doing things the American way……kinda. I still have my Irish moments. But you know what? I am going to hold onto my Irish ways, because they make people laugh, and they make me who I am. Ok thats all I got.

Between the ages of 5 and 9 I remember summer time as fun in the sun, and getting a tan! I would brown really nice. I never burned. I would just get this really nice looking brown tan all over my body, and people were jealous. Everyone would admire my beautiful tan, I looked like a little foreign boy from spain or somewhere tropical. You may not think anything of that, but for a little Irish boy, this was a big deal. At least it was a big deal to all the grown ups around me, because most everyone in Ireland is pale white, and when there is a heat wave and the sun is shining (which is not often!), they fry like lobsters. So for me to tan and not burn, I was a super hero among my Irish counterparts. I was an elite.

Ohh but like every superhero I had a weakness, or a vulnerable spot you might say. That spot was my buttocks. It was as white as snow. So when I tanned, my glory was short lived when my mother thought it was the greatest thing ever to show everyone my buttocks, to compare my tanned back to my bright white untanned butt cheeks. She would yell with excitement to her friends or whoever was around, “look at this boys beautiful tan, and see how his little cheeks are snow white….isn’t it glorious!” she would say. Every time we met someone she knew (or didn’t know, it didn’t matter! I dreaded being called over….because as soon as I got within arms distance of her, she grabbed me threw me over her knees and down came my pants, and behold there was a beacon of light shining as bright as the moon, that moon was full, that moon was my butt.

Earlier I posted photos of Desmond, because I just thought they were so cute, but Jackie suggested I pull them down….and I agreed, I was not thinking, but then I got to thinking, and the above entry is what came of it. So Bonus for that. For those that got to see his cute little butt, congrats! (I know who you are!) it is chubby and beautiful.