For My Senior

In the spirit of recording all of the important moments of your senior year, I have written several blog posts. I wrote about how hard you work when it comes to your classes. I wrote about the beginning of your love story with Cy, and your last softball and last basketball games. Mostly I wrote about how proud I am to be your mom and how confident I am that you will continue to do great things. I had no intention of being finished writing about your last year of high school. I was going to have a hard time with the post about your last track season in Atlanta because of how much you have always loved throwing things. I knew it would be your hardest goodbye relative to sports. That post was going to have a picture of you at the podium at the 2020 Missouri Class 1 State Track Meet. And your college signing with Truman's throwing coach would have warranted a post with several photos. I planned to write about prom...your last one in Atlanta and your first and last one in LaPlata. And graduation. How could I possibly have a blog called Recording the Moments without writing about your high school graduation? We are still holding out some hope that some of these traditions may happen super late, but things are so up in the air right now that nobody can say for sure.

I know your most uncomfortable, anxiety inducing moments in life revolve around the unknown. Situations in which you do not feel confident and comfortable. These experiences have always been difficult for you to enjoy due to the stress they cause you to feel. I remember the tears at your first games (both softball and basketball) and your first piano recital when your panic would not subside until I joined you up front on the piano bench while you played your solo to a church full of parents and grandparents. During your first state track meet, freshman year, I remember how long you stood just outside the gate watching your competitors at the shot put circle before mustering up the courage to step inside for your practice throws. You always overcome the fear though. Last year you walked in like a boss. I am so sorry that your entire life is basically unknown right now. You are putting on such a brave face but I can feel how unsettled you are. I hate every moment you are missing out on that you have been planning on for the last 17 years. Not just the athletic events but all of the things that were going to keep our calendar jam packed over the next two months. Your last end of the year banquets and award nights. Class trips and pranks. Academic bowl and art projects. It is not fair to you and it stinks. It's okay to be sad or mad about the loss of these things. I want you to know I recognize that. 

I found out I was pregnant with you the week after 9/11 happened. Most Americans found themselves reading about the lives lost during those attacks with sorrow and disbelief. I remember telling people about you by saying, "I have some good news to share amidst all of this tragedy..." and deep within me you gave me such joy regardless of what was going on in the world. And that is basically how life goes. I mean, mostly life is amazing, but there are also struggles and hardships and tragedies and things we never could have anticipated. Sometimes you have to look a little deeper for the beautiful things.  This coronavirus reminds me of 9/11. It feels a little like we are being attacked, and I have seen people coming together in ways we see best in the face of adversity. I realize COVID-19 is bigger than senior year.  Nobody knows how many lives will be lost or what the final economical ramifications will be for everyone. I know we are barely getting started with this thing and I don't like the unknown either.

There are a few things I do know in this uncertain time. 1.) I will get some beautiful photos of you in your prom dress with your boyfriend with or without prom. 2.) I will get traditional photos of you in your cap and gown with your diploma whether graduation happens or not.  3.) If you have thrown your last shot put in an Atlanta Hornet uniform, your last throw was your PR that resulted in a state medal around your neck. 4.) Losing this last quarter of school cannot take away the other twelve and a half years of memories you have with your classmates and community. 5.) We will have a party to celebrate your journey to adulthood no matter how long we have to wait to make it happen. 

You started out as a silver lining in an uneasy time and that still holds true today. People are full of sorrow and disbelief once again but I am still excited to think of all of the patients you will help throughout your nursing career. I am looking forward to watching you grow throughout your college years. You have always worked so hard, and I know you always will, so I encourage you to embrace this time of quarantine one day at a time. I admit that I had to take a moment when you sent me your cap and gown photo on your last day of school. It happened to be the same day I had to lay off all of my photographers. So take your moment to mourn what's gone but try not to dwell on what is being taken away from you for too long. Celebrate what you still have. Family, friends, and a community that will always support you. Carry on with your Netflix Parties, Skype, FaceTime, etc., and overcome this thing. When this is all behind us, you will be stronger for it, and you will appreciate all of the beautiful things in your life more than ever before. I just wanted to say hang in there to my senior and to all of the 2020 Seniors. I have every confidence in you and I am pulling for you. 

Senior Sunday - A Letter to Madison

Dear Madison,

Sometimes when you are talking to me I look into your eyes and see such wisdom and maturity that I am shocked by how much time has passed since you made me a mother. Of course, there are other times when you text me asking me to bring you things you have forgotten...like pony tail holders, your warm up shirt,  or your ankle brace and I recognize my little girl again. Being a senior mom is a revolving door of missing the kid you were and looking forward to the woman you will be.

I remember when you were in fifth grade some of the moms of your classmates were freaking out at a basketball game about a science project. It was due that week and there was supposed to be a Power Point presentation and a poster in addition to the project. They were panicked at the looming deadline and how much time they were going to need to help their kids finish it. They felt like it was too much for a student your age. I went home a little worked up and asked you, "What's this I hear about a science project being due this week and why haven't you told me about it?" I remember the surprise in your big, blue eyes as you said, "Well, the project and the Power Point are already done. I just need to finish my poster but it is almost ready."  I said, "Ok. Carry on." And I never questioned you about your homework again.

I know if you have time to work ahead in a class, you will. I know if you miss something you were probably busy with your ninety-five other activities/commitments, and you will be more upset about it than I am. I don't tell you enough how proud I am of your academic work ethic and how much I appreciate not having to hover over you about your grades or school work. I think maybe it is easier to recognize your athletic accomplishments because there are medals and trophies and patches. I just want you to know I see your academic efforts as well. I see it in your grades, your ACT score, and your scholarship offers from all of the colleges we know and a few we haven't even heard of.

When I consider your academic successes there are moments, like the fifth grade science project, that I recall with the utmost clarity. Moments like when you came into my hospital room to meet your baby brother before you were two years old and you were speaking in complete sentences. I remember coaching your team in the Show-Me Games at MIZZOU when you were in fourth grade. I was looking for you to see if you wanted a Gatorade between games. I found you like this, reading Harry Potter with a dozen basketball games going on all around you. I should have known in that moment that your name would hang out on the Principal's Honor Roll list. That you would grow up and get accepted into the nursing program of the Harvard of the Midwest that only takes 50 students out of 200+ applicants.  What I know for sure is that in moments like these, I have always understood with crystal clarity that you would make us proud. And you always have. And you always do. And I know you always will.

Seventeen

You made me a mother seventeen years ago today. The first time I saw you I was overcome with fierce love, longing, and pride. It was the kind of love that filled me beyond capacity and made me wonder how I ever felt whole without you. I remember an overwhelming longing for you to grow up happy and healthy. For you to never know hurt and suffering. And the pride that settled deep into my chest was absolutely out of control.

I mean, at first you really didn't even have to work much for it. I was proud of you for surviving the emergency c-section and getting here in one piece. Then I was proud of your beautiful dark hair, and for looking so much like the guy I have loved since I was thirteen. Parents of babies are proud whether you are awake or asleep. When you are cutting teeth or sitting up or rolling over. Crawling, pulling up to things, walking. You were speaking in complete sentences before you were two. The love, longing, and pride has stayed with me throughout every step you have taken. You started learning skills that required a little more finesse than toddling through the living room without falling down. Reading and writing. Throwing and catching a ball. Making a basket. One of the strangest things is watching your child do things you cannot even do yourself...such as playing the piano. Or throwing things in track. Of course I continue to be proud of you for all of that but sometimes it goes beyond the things you have learned to do and it is more about the way you do them.

I know you have always been smart and you have always worked hard, but lately you have really started demonstrating true grit in all of your endeavors, and I know this will serve you well in everything you ever try to do. Watching you set goals and achieve them is one of my favorite things. Watching you face adversity and overcome it is phenomenal. Situations that use to cause you panic are now causing you to strengthen your resolve. When you put in those long nights for your STAR event and were sleep deprived and stressed, I said you didn't have to do it if you didn't want to. You did it. And you did such a great job you are going to compete in Nationals. At the sectional track meet, it was cold and raining, and you threw that shot put like it was any other day. In the javelin, you scratched on your first two throws and then maintained enough poise to launch your final attempt far enough to punch your ticket to the state track meet.

The pride that I felt on the day you were born is something that has never left me. Sometimes I look at you and I am in awe that you are my daughter. You are a better kid than I was. You work harder and your heart is bigger. Sometimes your determination leaves me speechless. I have always enjoyed watching you learn things and improve, but I have come to really appreciate the way you give your best effort when things are not ideal. When the weather is bad, or you have the stomach flu, or you are going on little to no sleep. I am most proud when you manage to come out and do great things on those days. Life is not always sunny and seventy-five. Adulting is not for sissies, but you prove to me constantly that you will handle whatever is thrown your way and do your best in spite of it. Adversity causes people to crumble or shine and when it happens to you I have to wear shades. My chest aches with pride and fierce love for the beautiful woman you have become. Happy Birthday, Madison! May seventeen be your best year yet.

She Throws Things

I am not sure I will ever get used to my children being taller than me. When I married their 6’4” father, I knew it would happen one day, but in reality it is the strangest thing. It does not seem like it was that long ago that I was carrying them around on my hip, and now I reach up to hug them. Sometimes I ask them to get things for me from the top shelf even though I have to endure the short jokes that follow. I stopped growing in seventh grade so I have always been short. In softball, I was always second base and second batter, and I bunted a lot. From middle school on I handled the basketball, and in track I attempted the jumps. At my daughter’s softball games, you will find her on third base. She hangs out in the middle of the lineup because she is a power hitter. In basketball, she is a post player, and nobody pushes her around under the basket. I am proud of the way she holds her ground.

When people ask me what she does in track, I always say, “She throws things.”   She loves to throw the shot put and discus, and while I knew she had a lot of success in junior high, I kind of assumed there would be a transitional year or two for her as she moved into varsity. I had always planned on her going to state at some point but I assumed it would be her junior or senior year. Sometimes I am wrong. Her freshman year she started bringing home medals from every meet. About halfway through the season I got online to look at other throwers in our state. Yeah, I’m that mom. I did not mention it to her, but I told her dad, “You know, there is a possibility that she could go to state this year.” And she did. Sometimes I am right. 

I will never forget the moment she stepped up to throw in Jefferson City for the first time. She was petrified, and in all honesty, she was the smallest girl of the sixteen Class 1A finalists. She was all alone out there, and we could not speak to her, as the family must remain in the stands. As the only athlete from her school to qualify for state, she did not even have a friend down there with her. Her dad and I could see it in her face the moment she almost fell to pieces. She started watching how far some of her opponents were launching that shot put, and she started to realize that she was probably not going to make it to the podium. She had never been to a meet in which she did not make the finals. She sat down on a bench down there and her lip started to quiver. Several heartbeats seemed to pass in slow motion as I watched her struggle with her disappointment. And then my child of fifteen years gathered herself and got to her feet to make her final throw. I have never been more proud in all of my life. You see, champions are not people who never lose. Champions are people who never give up. Right now her focus is on school and athletics, but the resilience we saw in her that day will serve her well throughout her entire life. I am so grateful for my seat in the stands.

SWAT (Softball With AttiTude)

If I were a mother who brags, I would post a team picture of the 2014-2015 12U SWAT team and I would tell you that they placed second in the Show-Me State Games. I would talk about pitchers, hitters, stolen bases, getting bunts down, making plays, and enthusiasm. Because those things were awesome, and I was so proud of all of these girls.

My hope when Madison signed up for this team was that she would improve her fundamental softball skills. Hitting, fielding, throwing, base running. I wanted her to learn more about all of the little things, because I have always believed, in any sport, that if you do the little things the right way, winning will flow from that. I think that doing the little things ultimately becomes the big thing. As our season comes to an end, I have been thinking about how far we have come since we began last fall.

The girls did improve their skills in many ways that can only be accomplished with experience.  At this time last year, when Madison approached the batter’s box, she was a girl who was trying not to strike out. Now, when she steps up to the plate, she is looking to smack the crap out of the ball. Her throws are more accurate, and she has become an aggressive base runner who is FINALLY ready and willing to slide. Most of the time.

I LOVE to watch young people gain life lessons through sports. Teamwork. Perseverance. Patience (Anybody remember any rain delays?). Commitment. Work ethic. Taking direction. Confidence. When we started out, a mistake or two would turn into a train wreck, and we took our share of losses. As the season went on, however, the girls developed the ability to regroup and move past a mistake, and we started bringing home medals. I think the girls learned that winners are not people who never fail. They are people who never quit.   

  Thank you SWAT coaches and parents for your willingness to give your time and energy to this team and to my daughter. For her lessons learned, the fun she had, and for helping out when I had to miss a game to take her brother somewhere else. Now that it is over, even with all we gained, it feels a little bit like we survived something. Maybe we did. Frigid cold, extreme heat, crazy hair, shoe emergencies, flooded fields, a tornado warning, and a switch blade surgery. Come to think of it, maybe winners are are people who never quit with parents who never give up!  

Dances and Sparkle

My daughter went to her first formal school dance Friday night.  I have not given a lot of thought to formal dances for almost a couple of decades. She had a friend over so they could get ready and go to the dance together. I think the theme for the dance must have been sparkle. Looking at her, I could see sparkle on her dress, her hairpins, her shoes, and in her eyes. I am really enjoying this age. This prelude to the teen years where her biggest decisions have to do with which dress and shoes to wear to the dance, or whether to go with curls or straight hair. I can't help but wish this time would pass a little more slowly. Honestly, I wish it for myself, but I wish it for her, too. Her decisions are not going to get any easier as time marches on. I wish I could bottle up some of this sparkle from these first dances and save it for her to have later on in life!

Jr. High Basketball 2014

Madison just finished up her first school basketball season.  She was uncomfortable at first with the novelty of it all. The unfamiliar has always stressed her out. New coach, new team, new everything. The first part of the season she was scared. To. Death. She was so caught up in everything that was new that I think she forgot this was her fourth year to play basketball. I could not figure out why she seemed to be so panicked out there, so finally I asked her, "Madison, what are you thinking about out there? I mean,  what is your focus?"

She said, "Doing a good job."

"At what?" I asked.

Her answer was, "Everything."

Ah. That explains it. I told her, "Okay. Tonight, I want you to focus on one thing and one thing only. The basketball. Get the basketball. Get a rebound, get a steal. If you don't have it, get it. If you have it, protect it. If you are open, shoot it. Think of nothing else but that basketball." She was a different kid after that. Like it all came back to her. It is hard to go from being the oldest on your team, where you play a lot and feel like you have a lot to contribute, to being the youngest on your team, where you sit a little more and wonder if your team needs you. I thought I had prepared her for that, but it bothered her more than I expected. They finished their season second in the conference with two tournament championships. The last few games were her best of the season, which I hope she will remember for next year.

At first I think she felt like her first season was a lot of work, but by the end she was really having a good time. She enjoyed spending time with this group of girls. Now that she knows what to expect, she is looking forward to next year. There are things about basketball that are wonderful, and there are things about it that are hard. I don't know if she always appreciates my wisdom, but I told her that years from now, she will remember the good parts of basketball much more clearly than the hard ones.

She will not remember the details from each game; the exact scores, or even the games where she spent more time on the bench than on the floor (I did not tell her that the 1995 State Champion banner at Meadville did still rub me the wrong way when I saw it at her game). She won't even remember every single plaque, trophy, or medal, or the struggle to balance school work with morning practice. What she will remember is the way it feels when the crowd roars for her team, and the feeling that comes from teamwork and team unity. What she will carry from basketball, more than anything else, will be her teammates, and the memories she is making as they become her friends for life. Someday, if she is lucky enough to cheer for her own daughter from the sidelines, she will remember these girls the most.

 

Birthday Lake House Sleepover

Madison is twelve years old. For her birthday this year, we had a sleepover retreat at the lake house. My mom put a black light in the basement where they danced away in neon colors and laughed at what the light did to their teeth. The girls also went fishing, fixed each other's hair, watched movies into the wee hours of the morning, and chowed down on sleepover snacks.  Jaron took their fish off the hooks for them. The next day, Grandma Judy made her traditional initial pancakes for them...just like she did for most of my birthday parties.

Ninety-nine percent of the time, Madison is such a good kid. For the most part she gets her homework done and stays on top of her schoolwork without any help from me. Kevin and I talk a lot about her soft heart. While I worry it will hurt her someday, it makes her a blessing to our family. Right now she helps out tremendously with chores around the house and taking care of animals and her little brother and sister. Right now she still thinks I am a great mom and that I know what I am talking about. I could not be happier about when her Aunt Cathy questioned her via email about any boys who might be catching her eye, she said, "I do have a great love. Its name is Basketball!"

Everyone tells me the next few years of parenthood will be a challenge. I am holding my breath a little. Not so much for myself but for this group of girls as they survive the tween age. People can tell you how quickly time passes, but it does not sink in until you feel it for yourself. When your child is going into Junior High. School dances, athletics, and a class schedule with a locker. When your daughter trades recess for P.E. and barbies for makeup and a cell phone. Lord help me. It is not easy figuring out how to reconcile dresses and softball cleats, or painted nails and game faces. The balance in trying to be both feminine and tough is delicate and not easily achieved. I think about Madison and her friends, and how they are beginning to figure things out and find their places in this world. My biggest hope for them is that they realize what extraordinary young ladies they are. I look at this group and I see potential and possibilities. I look forward to sharing the future with them and watching them grow into the ladies I know they can be! Happy Birthday, Madison! May you always be a girl with brains, and woman with attitude, and a lady with class!!

The First Slumber Party

It is no secret that our house is on the small side. I have hesitated in the past to let Madison have lots of friends over at one time, because there is simply not much space for them, and there is no place in this house where they could go that their constant giggles would not be heard at all hours of the day and night.  I knew there would be lots of giggles.

We recently acquired some chickens, and while we were building a house for them, we decided to make it bigger than necessary so the building could double as storage. We got the building almost done, but did not need to put the chickens inside immediately, so I told Madison she could have a slumber party, as long as they would like to camp outside in the chicken house. She jumped at the opportunity.

I remember slumber parties when I was young. I remember trying to camp in tents with my friends...in someone's yard or next to our pond, and the group of us wimping out and sneaking inside before morning on more than one occasion. There were times we ended up sleeping on a trampoline under the stars, or lined up across someone's living room floor. I remember a dad lighting fireworks in the yard to scare us in the wee hours of the morning, resulting in a hole in the wet banana (slip 'n slide to the younger generation) that we had to dodge the next day. I know that a cow's moo is amplified at 3:00 in the morning, and I have learned that if you decide to set up your sleepover tent on a hillside--in the morning you and all of your friends will wake up downhill and crowded. It occurred to me that Madison is not going to have any memories like these if she does not get to have the same kinds of experiences.

As far as slumber parties go, I thought I was prepared. I had the food and cake. I put a TV and DVD player in the building for a little Twilight Movie Marathon. I gave them a cell phone to keep out there in case they got scared or needed to come inside during the night. I ended up getting more texts saying things like, "Could we have more nachos?" Or popcorn...or drinks...or cake. I am not going to lie, these girls ate like linebackers. There was more wrestling and less fingernail painting than I had anticipated, and I have to say these girls are tough. Not one of them ended up in my living room floor before morning as I expected.

Madison's first slumber party was different in a lot of ways from the ones I remember. Some things have changed in twenty years. Their building, with doors, windows, and locks, was probably an upgrade from our old tents. We never had the whole TV/DVD/Cell Phone package when we were camping. There are some things that do not change in two decades, though. When I went out to check on them in the morning, I couldn't help but think it looked exactly the same. Happy Birthday, Madison! May your childhood hold many treasured memories shared with your friends.

1993

2013

Megan's Birthday Post

My baby turned three years old over the weekend.  I guess I should probably stop calling her my baby soon.  Mostly, Megan takes care of her own babies these days. She enjoys nothing more than Dora the Explorer and caring for her babies.  She has this little purse that she calls her baby bag that she likes to carry around with her.  At all times, it is stocked with bottles of juice and milk, a baby spoon and bowl, and a plastic slice of pizza.   She feeds her baby any time, day or night, whether she is hungry or not.  She could be an amazing mother. 

I had a hard time deciding what to record about her on her third birthday.  She is so everywhere, all the time...how could I go about pinning down the most adorable personality traits to share? I want to remember everything, because every single day she makes me laugh out loud, and she makes me feel like the most important person in the world.   

When Megan gets hungry, she asks me what I am fixing for breakfast.  Breakfast is any meal, any time of day.  Sandwich is a word she struggles to say in the most adorable way...to such an extent that her dad and I try bring her into any conversation involving sandwiches so we can hear her say, "swamich."  I frequently find her searching for an animal in trouble, and she sings and speaks more Spanish than I knew in high school. I have started to notice that when she sings, it always seems to be on key, and when she plays the piano, it is always very proper, and one note at a time.  She is our biggest fan.  By that, I mean that she applauds us. She applauds whether I am using the bathroom(Yay, Mommy!  I clap for you!) or fixing her plate, or putting her drink in her favorite cup.  She claps when Madison plays a basketball game or the piano, when Kevin gets a bale of hay for the cattle, or when Jaron catches a baseball.  Several times a day, when thinking of Madison and Jaron, she asks for her sissy and her buddy, and nothing lights her up more than the big bus at our driveway, magically delivering them safely home from school. 

When I carry Megan in her sleepy moments, she fits perfectly against my shoulder, with her little arms wrapped snugly around my neck and her feet around my waist.  I like to think she enjoys this arrangement as much as I do, because when she starts getting drowsy, she asks if she can lay on my "shouder." I always say yes.  She uses "can't" instead of "don't" in many situations.  "I can't like broccoli.  I can't want to go night-night!" She is afraid of teenage boys.  She bosses little boys around, and she thinks grown-up boys are okay, but she seldom speaks to a teenage boy.  She gets sober and skeptical when they are around.  I have accused my nephews of taking candy from her when she was little, but I have gotten no confessions out of them.  I think she could avoid teenage boys for several more years and her dad and I would not mind at all! Happy Birthday, Megan Joleen!  You bring us much love, light, laughter, and joy, and our lives have been richly blessed by having you in our little family.