Loaded

No matter how many pep talks I give myself I can never quite shake the sense of doom that descends upon me about a week before school starts.  I always tell myself that this year I won't get all flustered and life won't be all frantic because I'll stay organized and on top of things.  And then, on the evening of the first day, I start getting a tick above my right eye and I end up staying up way too late signing more forms than one should ever have to sign at any given time.  Because I have stayed up too late I have trouble getting up in the morning.  Because I have trouble getting up in the morning I invariably run late. Whenever I'm running late (usually from August until June), I tend to get grouchy.  Along with grouchiness comes grogginess, and grumpiness (the modern day dwarfs who befriend Sleepless Not-So-Beauty).

I keep telling myself that since my kids are older, this year will be a lot easier on me.  And then, on the evening of the first day of school, my throat tightens up in an attempt to keep certain words from spilling out...words that parents should simply keep in their heads while they smile and nod.  All of a sudden my kids' loads at school are getting heavier; their responsibilities and activities are increasing.  As a result my parental load becomes oversized.  I can't help but to feel weak when I know I must be strong.  I want to lessen their load but I know it is only through these heavy trials that true character is developed.  My prayer is that we can all yoke together and carry one another's load in an effort to balance each other out.    May all of you who are experiencing heavy burdens find the strength to bear them and eventually release them.  Hopefully the loads we all carry are filled with the blessings and opportunities needed to help us become the best of who we were designed to be.

TTYL

I've got to hand it to all of you parents out there (mine included) who watched their child get into a car for their first official independent driving experience BEFORE  CELL PHONES HAD BEEN INVENTED!  I think that I was all cool and calm and "that's the nature of things"... but that's because I knew I would have at least the thinnest thread of contact with my son at the beginning, middle, and end of this whole "Nurture Your Child and Keep Him From Harm Only To Throw Him To The Wolves" thing called growing up (for him and me!).

Me:  "Text me AS SOON as you get there."
Him:  "I will."
Me:  "But not while you're driving."
Him:  "I know."
Me:  "Text me if you have to go ANYWHERE else."
Him:  "I will."
Me:  "But I don't want you going anywhere else."
Him:  "Okay."
Me:  "Be sure and text me AS SOON as you leave."
Him:  "I will."
Me:  "But not while you're driving."
Him:  "I won't."
Me:  "I love you."
Him:  "I love you too."
Him:  "I'm here."
Me:  (sigh of relief)  "Thanks for texting me.  Have a great day at work."
Me:  (Calling) "Why haven't you texted me yet?"
Him:  "Because I haven't left yet."
Me:  "When are you leaving?"
Him:  "In a little while.  I'll text you."
Him:  "I'm heading home."
Me:  "Thanks for texting.  Be careful."
Him:  (Walking in the door) "I'm home."
Me:    (Exhaling a prayer of gratitude)

VS:

Me: "Bye!"
My Mom:  "Bye"

Confirmation Please

While it was my daughter who got confirmed this past Sunday, it was I who received confirmation.  I received confirmation in that I had, in fact, followed through with the vows that I made when she and her brother were baptized.   For four years "we" have been going to confirmation classes on Wednesday evenings as well as on Sundays.  "We" have been getting home late and "we" have had to memorize scripture.  While I believe this to be essential in their lives as Christians I must admit that I am relieved this accomplishment has been achieved.  I find it interesting that the burdens we feel, as parents, are usually ones we heap upon ourselves.  But deep down we know that the sacrifices we are making today will benefit our kids later in life.  And that is just the thing...when we stop grumbling and complaining about all of the things we "have" to do...and realize that we are doing what needs to be done....then, and only then, can we come to appreciate not only what we are doing, but what our parents did (or didn't) do for us.  This 'parenting thing' is so much more than making sure our kids look both ways before crossing the street, or that they remember to say 'please' and 'thank you.'  It is about ensuring that our kids have some kind of firm foundation upon which to stand.  Hopefully that foundation is large enough and sturdy enough to withstand the turbulence that will inevitably be thrown their way.  I guess what I am trying to get at is this:  yes, it was my daughter who was confirmed, but I can't help but to feel a little swelling of pride in knowing that I had a part in building a portion of her foundation.  The fact that Jesus blessed those efforts last Sunday didn't hurt a bit!

My To-Do List Just Got Longer

T-minus 1 day and counting....it's official...my Pollyanna outlook is quickly leaving my body. I even have the three..count them THREE fever blisters to prove just how painful this process is! Just what is the cause of this horrific scenario one might ask? I return to work tomorrow! Life as I have come to enjoy it (a life lived in eight week's time) will forever be altered and no matter how many motivational quotes I post on my mirror, in my calendar, on my car's dashboard, on the fridge, in my wallet, on my computer, on my forehead (you get the picture) it doesn't change the fact that the hustle and chaos that is attached to a working mom is still going to cling to me and prevent things from going smoothly...as they did in the summer months. During the summer months (a.k.a. "when I'm NOT working") it seems that there is never any traffic...there is always a parking space--UP CLOSE...there is never a line (and even if, on a rare occassion there is...I never mind waiting in it because I'm not in a frickin' rush!)...there is always time to be thoughtful and considerate and I'm always able to feel more like me because I've had the benefit of actual SLEEP (more than 4 hours) because I don't have to be startled to death at the clanging of a loud alarm hell-bent on rattling my nerves with the obvious intent on preparing me for the day ahead...and a LONG day ahead it always is what with AFTER work meetings, doctor appointments, athletic practices, games, church activities and the like.

And then there is the whole other issue of "prepping" oneself to look somewhat presentable to the public. I find it extremely ironic that during my time off I do not have to wear any makeup due to the fact that the stress has left my face and since I am more relaxed I actually look relaxed. This means that I do not have to worry about putting makeup on nor taking it off. But now that I will be interacting with hundreds of human beings all day every day I have to do the whole "morning/evening 'routine' routine." Back in the day this would have been fine when a light dusting of blush and regular mascara were the extent. Nowadays I must wear waterproof mascara (I tend to cry alot...you know...driving to work...working at work...thinking about work.......and then, of course, there are those seasonal allergies to contend with....ALL 4 SEASONS!). This means that I have tug and tug and tug at my lashes as I try to remove all traces of mascara without tugging on the delicate skin around the eye area. Nowadays I must wear more and more makeup in an effort to look more and more 'natural.' Nowadays I have to wear makeup or else I will scare all of the children. All of this just to illustrate the fact that I have to refer to a check list when putting on/taking off my face (and this list is only for the cleansers and moisturizers and anti-aging cremes and treatment gels...).

I have yet to mention the myraid other "to-dos" that go along with making sure my kids are ready for school. I have purchased school supplies for the middle schooler and am sending my high schooler on his way with a pen and a prayer. I have suffered through the trying on of clothes with my daughter and the extended cleaning sessions in my son's room. I have signed multiple forms and conversed with school counselors. I have negotiated with my boss about the fact that I will be late (as in not even going to make it late) to the first meeting of the year because I'll be at my daughter's orientation. I have driven my son to his football practices and picked him back up again. I have listened to Mix 96.1 and watched the Teen Choice Awards.

I have decided that no matter how much I have to do I already know it won't always get done. I already know that things are going to be insanely chaotic and that I will need nerves of steel. I know that I will need more sleep than ever before but that I will be unable to get it. I know that I had a good summer...and I know that I can't wait for the next one!

Why Did the Parent Sit in the Parking Lot? .... To wait for her son!

It may be "that time again" for a lot of you out there...but it's a first for me. I just had my official first experience as the mother of a high school football player. This experience consisted of dropping off my son early this evening, killing time for the next 3 1/2 hours, and then sitting in the stifling heat for another hour waiting for his first practice to end. We got home close to 9:45 and the boy had the nerve to tell me that he was starving..."for a big dinner." Whoa baby...do we have to get a few things straightened out if he wants to live to practice another day!

As far as the chicken picture goes: believe it or not, this is the sight I saw as I pulled into the high school's parking lot this evening. I considered it "a sign" ... though I'm not sure of what exactly.....

Short Story

What is it with kids?! They are SO demanding!! They want attention, they want food, they want clean clothes to wear....it never ends! Take my son for example: he just came home after a week and a half vacation--during which he wore the same pair of shorts every day. The morning after he got home his first words to me were: "Mom, have you washed because I don't have any clean shorts to wear." HUH?! Say WHAT?! I'm thinking: the kid can live on one pair of cargo shorts for ten days-while away from MOM-and then WHAM!-the minute Mom is back in the picture it's "Wash this!" "Cook this!" "Buy this!"

So, I did what any well-intentioned, loving mother would do...I went out and bought the boy 5 new pair of shorts...consider it my way of conserving water during the drought!

It's All Coming Back to Me Now

To celebrate the homecoming of my kids after being away on vacation with their grandparents we all went downtown and enjoyed a day of sightseeing and eating...an intact family of four...together again...that is until my daughter and I were separated from dad and brother while trying not to vomit in public. Maybe it was the heat...maybe it was the overwhelming joy at being back home...who knows...either way my daughter got sick right as our dinner was served to us-outdoors-on the Riverwalk. After spending way too long in a public bathroom teetering over the toilet as to avoid actually having to touch anything my daughter and I decided to play it safe and cover the floor and toilet seat with some paper towels. Fortunately the bathroom had decorative Saltillo tile and was somewhat "decent" considering other public options. As I sat on the bathroom floor, beneath the diaper changing station, dabbing the back of my daughter's neck with a wet paper towel, in the "larger-more spacious" stall, I could not help but to think that I was being punished for reveling in and enjoying my "vacation" from parenting. It was as if the kids were retuned to me and then, in less than 24 hours, I was reduced to collecting E-Coli on my knees and bottom while foregoing dining in public. I was instantly reminded that I was a parent NO MATTER WHAT and that my duties still include being there and supporting my children...I just sometimes wish they would work on their timing!

SitCalms

There is something comforting about living in the year 2009 and still hearing the voices of the Tanner Family (a.k.a. the Full House Sitcom). It seems that show is always on in our house and it seems that whenever it is we all congregate on the couch. I can actually recall watching it when I was younger and being fully aware that their family dynamics were different. The kids' mother had passed away and that left Danny to raise his girls "alone"... along with Joey, Uncle Jesse, and Rebecca. We have come a long way from what was once considered a traditional living arrangement these days but as I watch the show now all I see is the loving unit that makes up that extended family.

The show focuses on learning lessons and on the feelings we all feel...especially as children, and on the relationships we build with people we care about. I wish there were more shows like this one on t.v. Whenever it is on I never have to be ready to produce a timely cough or sneeze to distract from a cuss word as is so often the case with "family" shows of today. But, herein lies the rub; the "family" shows of today are a direct reflection of many of today's families. I find it unsettling that so many kids are exposed to raunchy language and loose boundaries on a daily basis. Just last night, while at a grocery store check-out, I overheard one of the checkers behind me conversing with another checker. The first word out of his mouth was an expletive. I don't mean to come across as all proper and such because, believe me, I fell off that wagon long ago, but even still it jolts me-every time. Or could it just be that I am, gasp, getting older?

Gal. 6:9

As parents we try to teach our kids all of those golden rules our parents taught us; rules such as treat others the way you want to be treated...you reap what you sow...hard work and perseverance pay off in the end...always do the right thing...honesty is the best policy...etc. As adults we learn that although the above rules are ones to live by it seems as if no one really does. It is so hard to tell your kids one thing while knowing they witness just the opposite. Ultimately we end up preparing our kids for the worst while praying for the best.

After witnessing first hand all of the effort, energy, time, and heart that my son put into raising his 4H chickens I wanted him to be recognized. After all, I knew he worked his tail end off...I knew he loved every single minute of caring for them even when his fingers were red and stinging from having them soaking wet in freezing temperatures...I knew he took pride in what he did. But I am not enough and that is hard to realize sometimes.

A week or so ago, while looking for some boots for my husband, the four of us walked into a very upscale western store. We knew the prices were going to be waaaaay out of our price range, but we also know that sometimes a good deal is in the most unlikely of places. I was pleased to notice that on the wall, just to the right of the entrance was a small, brass plaque, on which was inscribed the following:

"And let us not get tired of doing what is right, for after a while we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don't get discouraged and give up." Gal. 6:9.

After looking, but not touching, we exited the store and I pointed out the plaque to my kids-reading the verse out loud and explaining to them what it meant. My son is the one who made the comment, "That's good...I really like that." My son is the reason we were all shopping around for western attire for "the big weekend." My son is the reason I shed tears for two days. For he never tired of doing the right thing and he never gave up...and this weekend, even though his chickens were the lightest chickens in the entire show, and he only received sixth, seventh, and eighth place ribbons...my son won the Bandera County Junior Stockshow SHOWMANSHIP AWARD for 2009!!!

To have your child's efforts recognized by someone else...to know that he did, in fact, reap a harvest of blessing-for doing the right thing...well, it just brought forth tears of joy. It was such a powerful parenting moment -- one that will stay with me forever.

Congratulations, Son...I am so proud of you!

Taking Stock

There is still so much to do
Yet nothing more can be done
The chickens have been fed
I'm so proud of my son
The chickens were crated
In the back of our truck
I hugged him goodbye and
Wished him good luck
The weigh in is early
The show is at one
No matter the place
My boy has won
He always worked hard
In the heat and the cold
He raised them from chicks
Only to be sold
I can write all about it
I can snap pictures with glee
But my husband is the one
Who taught responsibility
Together they labored
To prepare for this show
A boy and his dad
A memory did grow

Christmas Eve

It's Chrismtas Eve...finally! It's time to relax and be with family. It's too late to do anything else except wait so you might as well enjoy it! Even now my tummy is fluttering at the very thought of going to my Mom and Dad's---this is when I revert to the expectant child...and I LOVE it!!! It's so fun to be all things wrapped up in one: a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a wife, a mother...I get to be right there in the middle of it all and yet I have the benefit of being able to step away and view it all from a distance. The smiles on my parents' faces as they enjoy their role as grandparents; nothing makes them happier than making their children and grandchildren smile. Getting to see and hear shouts of elation as my kids receive the good stuff...just what they wanted all wrapped up in the love of the givers.

There will be food and there will be games; there will be laughter and picture taking sessions. There will be anticipation and there will be relaxation. The magic of Christmas is sprinkling down on us all...may it fall on you.

All I Want For Christmas

Why is it that when things are at their busiest time often stands still? By that I mean we, as a family, despite all of the unfinished tasks, were able to stop for a while and watch A Christmas Story. A couple of days ago my husband and the kids presented me with an early Christmas present: the DVD of A Christmas Story. We watched this classic last year and laughed all throughout. This year was no exception, and as the kids get older and older they really seem to “get it"…from every angle.

I am always touched by the ending when it is evident that one of the true magical moments of Christmas morning is seeing your children receive something that they really wanted more than anything else. That moment in time has to be one of the great rewards of parenting. Christmas morning memories stay with you no matter how old you get. It seems that we can all remember the sheer joy we felt when our wishes were granted.


I can remember bountiful Christmases and I can remember slim Christmases. Both kinds brought me happiness. The love was there beneath the tree in both cases. As I prepare for our Christmas morning magic I can’t help but to return to my childhood and want nothing more than for my kids to have that happy feeling burn within. I pray that they know they are loved unconditionally and that out of love they are not given every single thing that they want. I hope that their Christmas morning memories will travel with them wherever they go, and I can’t wait for them to each smile when they unwrap the very thing that they wanted more than anything else.

Get Out of Jail Free!

There is a sort of double-edged swordness to "getting" to stay home from work...especially if you are a Mom. You get to stay home-but you have to clean up after a person with a stomach bug. I feel bad that my daughter feels bad, but I can't help but to feel giddy that we get to stay home. Add to that the fact that since we came home early yesterday I was able to clean up most of our messes then. Top that with the fact that neither of has an appetite so no meals had to be prepared! I mean, can you just imagine?! Being home and just being?! Well...neither can I --that is why I took this opportunity to sweep and mop out the kids' bathroom, wash every sheet, comforter, and pillowcase in the house (whether it belonged to a sickee's bed or not), and started entertaining thoughts of organizing kitchen drawers (remember...I'm a little food deprived here...obviously not in my right mind). Truth be told I actually feel fantastic today--yay!!! Finally!!!

Before I knew that I would be staying home today I woke up a little after 5:00 a.m., got dressed and ready for the day...I should have known something was up because I looked rested despite a tear-filled night. Both my makeup and my hair "worked" for me this morning...I mean, really, when does that ever happen, right?! Sure enough...when I went in to wake Hailey she felt warm and was running a low grade fever. That was all that I needed to make the call and set in to motion the plans for the rest of the day. I took Josh to school and then went by my school to put out a couple of fires and then it was off to Walmart and the gas station. I had to purchase the necessary stay-at-home-with-a-sick-daughter items...things such as nail strengthener, 3 new bottles of fingernail polish, and a Sprite. Remember ladies...it's not how you feel...it's how you look!

So now, I have a mere 2 hours left before I have to get Josh. The clock's ticks are getting incessantly louder; they are moving way too fast. Just like in the game of Monopoly, my "Get Out of Jail Free" card can only last so long and then it is time to give it up and return to my cell. I enjoyed it while I had it in my possession. I made the most out of the time I was given. Tomorrow is uncertain for me but I do know that should I "get to" return to work it is but for half a day. In a sense I will be "Just Visiting;" still in the corner on the gameboard of life with all of the world's opportunities on either side of me.

I Am A Dirty Girl

Since I had to leave work early today (because my daughter got sick at school) and since tonight Jmy son has his weekly Confirmation classes from 6:00-8:00, the task of tending to the 4-H show chickens fell to me. Nevermind the fact that the last solid meal that I ate was on Saturday evening (that's 4 days ago for those counting) and I've gulped down over 130 oz of Gatorade...it doesn't matter that I feel weak and puny...it's no excuse that I had to pull over on the side of the road on the way home to help my daughter barf into a plastic grocery bag...a farm never sleeps. So, after I got my daughter tucked into her bed, and after I got the car unloaded and the toxic bag tossed well over a cliff-I set out to help my son out.

I had received explicit instructions via cell phone and I vowed to follow them to the best of my abilities. Before I walked down to the barn to gather the eggs and refresh the water in the regular chicken coop I first changed into my black velour robe that my mother had given me as a gift one year. It is one of my favorite things to put on after I take everything off. I stepped into my comfy pink Crocs and went to work. Since it was misting and foggy outside it immediately became apparent that I would not be wearing my comfy shoes back inside the house...not after mushing down upon fresh coop poop.

Next stop: the show chicken coop. Here is where it got dirty. I kept having to maneuver my way over a four foot piece of tin that makes up one of the walls keeping the chicks contained. Since I was wearing a robe this was starting to become a challenge. After I stepped on the end of my black robe with a gooey shoe I gave in and simply started wiping my mucky hands all over me. That's when I noticed that one of the chicks had died and was being trampled on repeatedly as the others made their way to one of the feeders. So here I am, feeling barfy as it is, gathering up a dead chick inside a plastic grocery bag and walking it out to the dried up caliche pit/pond where a burn pile is forming....in my velour robe and my pink Crocs. I kept looking around for the hidden camera but still have yet to find it.

After emptying all of the feeders and rinsing out each water feeder I refilled them all according to my directions. I stomped off toward the house, kicked off the Crocs, stripped down to my necklace, took a hot shower, and disenfected the kids' bathroom.

Sick

What is it with mothers and sickness? We can’t even barf full throttle…we have to push it down while we attach the scrubber end to the toilet cleaning wand and clean away. We have to break out into a cold and clammy sweat as we wipe down the tank, the seat, the lid..hey, may as well clean the base while we’re at it…then, and only then, can we barf our way to recovery.

I had been meaning to clean our toilet…honestly. But, for some odd reason, the thought of cleaning splatters that-let’s face it-don’t even belong to me, never crossed my mind-except first thing every morning when I have no time to spare and the last thing at night when I have no spare time.

As I am sitting there-contemplating-I make sure I save the wrapper from the scrubber so that when I feel better I can add it to my list of things to buy. Instead of rubbing my stomach or moaning in pain I focus on the hairballs that are nesting on the bath mat. I notice that the dust on the baseboards can no longer be classified as dust because when I swipe at it with my big toe nothing happens. I start thinking about all of the ramifications to follow if I really am truly sick. Please say it isn’t so!

It’s so---and so I quarantined myself in my room where I had a view of all of the neglected piles of clothes and stuff I have been meaning to put away. How ironic that I only have time to get to all of my undones when I am debilitated. But, come 6:00 p.m. the piles have been reduced and it is becoming more and more apparent that I may have to call in sick. This, as liberating as it may sound, is not all it’s cracked up to be. For starters I have to get online to utilize our subfinder system. Well, actually I should call and prearrange a substitute and then type in my request. Then I need to let my sub know all of the instructions and directions for the day, etc…that is, if she is even available.
As luck would have it Mondays are my light days at work and I can usually get so much accomplished. Oh well.

Next there is the issue of getting the kids to school and picking them up again. Since we live out of town this is not as simple as it may sound.

As the evening approaches I make sure the kids have done any homework that they may have forgotten they had. I make sure we, as a family, spend some time together for our Advent devotions. I make sure the dog and cat spend some time outdoors, and I wish my head weren’t pounding so I could use this time to read.

As I type this my daughter walks in and declares that, “Mom! You look beautiful like that! Don’t move! I gotta get the camera!” Great…another picture to immortalize me as I truly was.

Big Shoes to Fill

I'm typing this from the comfort of my Mom and Dad's house. The kids and I come by often whenever we need to kill some time between after school activities. Tonight we're all going to listen to my daughter sing as a member of our school district's Honor Choir. Tonight will be her first winter concert as a member. She will be wearing a beautiful black velvet and crepe dress. I had to rush to Walmart between classes today to get her a pair of heels in order to compensate for the fact that we decided not to hem the inches-too-long dress. Since she had rehearsal yesterday I had to buy a pair of shoes without the benefit of her trying them on first. I ended up buying two pair-just in case. Both pair were too big so I made the exchange today and lucked out. I think we just may get by without stepping on her dress.

This reminds me of all of the times I had to "make do" as a young girl (and still do). One memory in particular has me trying out for the "County Queen" at the fair grounds. I was in a borrowed pink satin prom dress (of which I had to stuff the top portion with paper towels) and matching pink very HIGH heels that Mom and I had purchased at Solo Serve on San Pedro for $3.00. Since they did not have my size-but I desperately needed the height of the heel in order for the dress to fit-we ended up buying those babies (which I stuffed paper towels into the toe portion). I did not win the pageant but I should have won an Oscar for the acting job I pulled off walking "gracefully" down the aisle and up the steep steps.

Tonight, my daughter is going to have to balance herself well as she stands tall , and I hope that she feels beautiful and confident. I know the girls were encouraged to wear flats, but sometimes a girl just has to do what a girl has to do...and if that means making do with what she has then so be it! (And for the record: my daughter did look beautiful, and tall...but at least her dress did not drag the ground!)

Bear Necessities

The tiny tag read: "Please look after this bear, Thank You." Well, how can you ignore that?! And so I have been looking after Paddington Bear for over 30 years now. He is starting to look just a wee bit worn around the edges, but I love him still the same. He makes me smile every year when I rescue him from his makeshift home amongst some of my most treasured posessions: my Christmas tree ornaments. His front paws clip onto anything you want--I always choose one of the branches in the top portion of the tree...usually on the right hand side. Just seeing him makes me feel like a kid.

I can still remember watching a stop animation filmstrip about him while seated cross-legged on the floor surrounded by what felt like the entire school. Maybe it was a rainy day or perhaps it kicked off a holiday...either way I was introduced to Wellington boots, marmalade jam, and a delightfully Brittish bear. As I force myself to recognize just what it was exactly that attracted me to him I must say that I am at a loss. To this day I love foreign accents, but there was more to it than that. I do know that I liked the idea of the little tag attached to his coat.

I am thinking I may need a tag of my own these days: "Please look after this girl, Thank you." Now I'm starting to think that maybe I do have one of these tags--maybe it's been attached to me since I was born. I'd like to think that God sent me to my parents with just such a message attached. I'd also like to think that my parents sent me on my way out into the world and into the arms of my husband with my tag still intact. And now it is hitting me that I must do the same with my children--"Please look after my children, Thank you." Yikes...is that all that I get to say? All that I get to wish? The "please" part and the "thank you" part are great, but shouldn't I say more? Shouldn't I give more explicit, detailed instructions?

But then I look back at that tiny bear who found his way into my life all those years ago. If he brings me such joy each and every time that I look at him then he and I both must be doing something right...even though he came without details. I was only to love...no wait...I was only asked to look after. Could it really be that simple?

As you get ready to celebrate the holidays don't forget to look after those who are entrusted in your care. Don't forget to say "please" and "thank you." Don't forget to hold on tight even if you feel like you are out on a limb. And, finally, don't forget to look after yourself.

BFFs!

I brought my 11 year old daughter along for an all girls' weekend with my two best friends from elementary school. We spent the night in Dana's lake cabin and it felt every bit like the quintessential pre-teen slumber party that it truly was! Being the only one with a daughter I wanted to include my daughter in the plans because she loves all things "girl." She adores my girlfriends and they return the love. I am so fortunate to be able to share her with them.

We massaged our feet, painted our toenails, played the flute, and flipped through magazines. We ate coconut meringue pie for breakfast and had Mike &Ike's candies for dinner. We laughed until we peed in our matching froggy pajamas!

We exchanged fun gifts the likes of peppermint hand sanitizers, vanilla creme lotions from Bath & Body Works, fun candles, and old copies of Judy Blume books as tokens of our lasting friendships! Per my daughter's request she and I picked up some cozy fleece pjs and stuffed animals for all the girls.

At one point in the night someone gave my daughter a Sharpie Marker with the instructions to "Mark the 1st person to fall asleep"...guess who dozed off first? Yup....'twas I.

Dana built us a roaring fire in the wood burning stove that sustained us all through the night. She and my daughter stood their ground and defended the cabin against the angry mob of hornets that once lived inside the pipe of the stove. We all played M.A.S.H. (mansion, apartment, shack, house), and we popped each other's backs. We fed the stray cats that hung out near the front door (though they looked as if they hung out at every cabin door--no ribs showing on these felines). As it turned out we were more than warm and slept, as I had earlier predicted, with the doors open. We had prepared for freezing temperatures and had the electric blankets to prove it. We discussed our favorite authors and we wend on a nature walk.

All in all it was a great getaway...it was great in the fact that I could have my daughter along with me while "out with the girls." It was great in the notion that good old fashioned corny silly fun is still great fun! It was a strong reminder that girls are girls no matter their age...we all just want to belong to a group of people who love us and accept us. We all need someone who we can confide in, tell our secrets to, share a ped egg with. I pray that my daughter will surround herself with some truly great girlfriends who will embrace her and encourage her the way my BFFs have done for me...and thank heaven...who do so for her too! Thanks, girls!!!!

Game Over

This is the sort of thing that always seems to happen to me: after my son’s last football game we went to Bill Miller’s for a nice celebratory dinner of some good old bbq. Except when we ordered we were told they were “out of brisket.” Say what?! It was 7:30 p.m. on a Tuesday night…huh?! We were told that if we wanted to wait a delivery truck was en route and it should arrive in approximately fifteen minutes. We decided to wait…and wait we did…way over 15 minutes. Eventually we were called to the counter by the manager and were given 2 complimentary sweet teas…but no brisket. When we finally received our “Poor Boys” (go figure) they were shoved inside a brown bag for us to eat on the road. So much for a sit down dinner.

Now back to the game…it was super! "We" beat the opposition 26-20 in a nailbiting finish. It was very exciting and it helped the team to end the season on a great note. The sky was navy blue, the lights were shining brightly, and the air was crisp and cool. I had introduced myself to another mother during half time so we felt completely comfortable hugging each other when the game-winning catch was made.

My son got a taste of the term ‘bittersweet’ as he had to turn in his equipment and uniform the next day. He did not want it to end. I am so glad that he had such a positive experience.

Silent Nights

I am feeling down…fallen…though looking up…as if for an outstretched hand to pull me back up onto the ledge where I have been living for so long now. I feel like the Coyote when he falls so far down into the pit that the television viewer can no longer see or hear his plummet…only the tiny cloud that is offered up as proof that there really was a destination…an ending…a hard one.

I spent the evening on hard, cold, aluminum stadium seats-camera at the ready-watching my son stand on the sidelines. If I found it heart-wrenching I can only imagine how my son must have felt. I hate to sound like a typical parent, but my son is extremely focused and willing to learn. He gives his all during every practice. Just yesterday he was the first one off the field-because he was running for the locker room—and he ran all the way—even when the coaches weren’t watching—even after he passed through the fence surrounding the field. He is coachable and positive…he is craving all things football right now. The frustrating part of it was that we were ahead by almost 2 touchdowns and still the coaches did not substitute players in. When my son finally got to run out on the field it was but for a single play—and the action was no where near him—all of this in the final 3 minutes of the ballgame.

I pray that his spirit does not get broken. While he is, undoubtedly upset, he still loves the game and is already talking of next year. I also feel badly for my husband because I know how his own heart must ache for his son…especially because he knows first hand what it feels like to play the game.

And so, I sat and watched and cheered and prayed for a boy who didn’t play.

Meanwhile there is my daughter…tonight found us able to sneak into the choir room for a behind the scenes preview of her upcoming winter concert. We were able to listen to all of the songs she has been working on (though only snippets). Their voices were lovely and my daughter participated 100%---but whenever we maintained eye contact it was only a stare…not a glimmer of recognition or delight…no show of emotions.

And so, I sat and watched and cheered and prayed for a girl who sang…but my heart ached just the same.

When the choir sang Silent Night in German my eyes began to well up. I was immediately taken back to a midnight Christmas Eve service at church…the year I was 6 months pregnant with my daughter. I wore a crushed red velvet blouse and I shakily held my candle while tears streamed down my cheeks. It is often said that silence speaks volumes...sometimes it is the things not said that impact us the most.