When Craig Juntunen asked his wife, Kathi, about adopting children, she reminded him how he struggled through Thanksgiving around nieces and nephews.

He glared at misbehaving children at restaurants. And when she suggested vacationing at Disneyland, he declined because, naturally, kids would be there.

All true.

But only days earlier, during a 2006 golf game with a friend, the friend mentioned he had adopted two girls from Haiti. Between the 14th and 17th holes, Juntunen knew he was going to Haiti, too.

Juntunen got a vasectomy at age 30, retired at 40 and lived a life of golf and skiing in Scottsdale and the Colorado Rockies. Juntunen said he chose never to have children because as he was building his consulting business, he never wanted to feel conflicted.

"I didn't want to be looking at my watch, thinking it's time to go home now," he said.

And life was fun after retirement, but also hollow.

"I had become disenchanted. I remember standing at the first tee and thinking, 'There's got to be more to life than this.' "

At 51, Juntunen went to Haiti on an exploration trip, he said. He wanted to see the impoverished conditions. He returned, having adopted three children, Amelec, 5, Espie, 4, and Quinn, less than a year old.

The children, Juntunen found, each had their own way of making it known they were meant to be his and Kathi's. As he walked around the orphanage holding Espie's hand, she suddenly broke into the cartoon walk Juntunen often does as he walks the dogs. Amelec fit the exact specifications of the child in their adoption dreams. And Quinn, then maybe only 2 months old, grabbed his thumb and wouldn't let go. He still grabs Juntunen's thumb today.

Kathi, then 48, said she, too, had tried to fill the emptiness she felt with volunteer work. "But I always felt like there was something missing."

When the three children who spoke no English arrived seven months later it was like having triplets.

"It was hard. We didn't know what we were doing," he said. "I was never the dad guy. But I always said to myself, 'What a great mom Kathi would be.' And she is great mom."

There were great highs and great lows. Everything was new to the children. Ice cream. Coke. A belt.

Only 10 days after they arrived at their home in DC Ranch, the oldest children began attending El Dorado private school.

Juntunen, his wife said, threw himself into the job. He changed diapers, bought groceries and rolled around on the floor with the kids. It's clear when Espie drapes herself around him and Quinn backs up against his legs that they love him.

"I was completely overwhelmed," he said. "But if I could do it and love it, and I do, anyone can."

Shortly after adopting the children, Juntunen started Chances for Children, an organization aimed at streamlining the adoption process and making what can be a $15,000 to $24,000 procedure more affordable. Last year, the organization aided in 30 adoptions at an orphanage it sponsors, and this year it's on track for 40 adoptions.

Now, three years later, the children are ages 8, 7 and 3. Amelec plays baseball and soccer. Espie is in ballet. And Quinn can sing his alphabet.

This year, Juntunen published a book, "Both Ends Burning," about his transformation from a life of leisure man to family man.

In one of the later chapters in the book, Juntunen describes how he overcame his fear of Disneyland and how he found his three days there came too fast. At the end of the trip, Amelec asked his father, "Dad is this a magic place?"

"What do you think son?"

"Yes, Dad, I think so."

"Amelec," he says, "you are right."