Mark Pavilons
I continue to be amazed by my kids

The other day my eldest daughter Lexie gave me a hug. Without prompting!

If was one of those brief, yet touching moments in a parent's life. Just like in those martial arts movies, objects are suspended in mid-air as though time stood still, as this exchange took place. Okay, not really, but that's how I'd film it if I were a director.

At eight going on 18, Lexie is an interesting package. She's bright, mostly cheery, intelligence, somewhat intense and she's beginning to understand the world. She loves to play and exert energy. But she also likes her solitude to play quietly, colour or read. She acts out real-life scenarios of the past day's events at school, or relives a scene in a movie.

In what I'm confident is a way to get me back for my sarcasm, she asked me if I could pinch my wenis (pay close attention to the spelling). Startled, she then informed me it's the rough patch of skin on your elbow. A funny, little word, it can suffer from over use, as kids are apt to do. She doesn't yet understand what happens to wise guys.

Lexie tries to sing, and after 10 minutes of serenading the entire block from her bedroom, we have to not-sopolitely ask her to refrain. Bless her heart, she tries.

From a vantage point of roughly three inches away, I stared into my youngest daughter's eyes the other morning. She stared back, tilting her head a bit as if to say "wow, this is a unique experience, hey, there's a lot more in there than meets the eye, dad!" At least that's how I prefer to interpret it. It was, more likely, "gee dad, your nose is huge at this distance, better watch you don't put someone's eye out with that thing!"

She plopped her still heavy head on my chest, and scrunched her hands beneath her body to keep warm, like a little bear cub or something similarly soft and cute.

She's desperately trying to talk, and just when you think she's on the verge of some intellectual outburst, she points at you and says, "ba!" And then she points at the TV and says "ba!" Then she grabs a cookie and exclaims, "ba!"

She's bright and still new, like when the world was young.

She's an amazing little human being, even if she stuffs egg noodles down her snappy tee, hoarding them for winter.

My middle child, the only male of the Pavilons line, continues to wreak havoc. He's a very interesting factor in our family equation.

Sure, at times he's a cute as a bunny and he already knows how to turn on the charm. He's the epitome of little boyhood he simply loves everything that little boys love. I do test him more often than not, by asking him if he's ever tried worms on his toast, or if he's ever seen the Loch Ness Monster.

I guess I shouldn't shatter the image he has that his father is the be all and end all. I think he's starting to realize the truth, though.

He's well rounded his heart is as big as his imagination. Without any encouragement at all, he's turned into quite the mini-me (negative qualities excluded).

When I'm alone with my thoughts (not easy in a fiveperson family), I am still amazed almost puzzled at how I got here.

I recall the lyrics to the Talking Heads song Once In A Lifetime:

"And you may ask yourself well ... how did I get here?

And you may tell yourself

This is not my beautiful house!

And you may tell yourself

This is not my beautiful wife!

And you may tell yourself

My god! ... what have I done?"

It's all just a blur, this monumental journey from adolescence to feigned adulthood, to marriage and parenthood.

But the fruits of my labours are there, in front of me, day in and day out. In the shape of human beings, my greatest accomplishments to date are, in order of appearance, Alexandria, Liam and Kyleigh. How their individual stories unfold remains to be seen. Hopefully, our influence and loving environment has given them the necessary foundations to venture out into the world and make valuable contributions to this planet.

And to think I have a hand in all of this still continues to perplex me. Becoming a father is easy, but sliding into those comfortable slippers as father is quite another matter. It's a constant learning experience and thanks to three very fine teachers of mine, I think I'll be okay. Maybe I'll even graduate with honours!

From here on in, it looks like teamwork is the key to success. We will all learn by doing. If we continue to keep one another on our toes, we'll be just fine. A few more impromptu hugs may just hit the spot, too.