Life is Short

This poem was inspired by Serenity's post, "life's too short for that"


Life is too short to miss family dinners,
or the games that make our kids feel like winners.

Life is too short to hold back kisses and hugs,
or to yell too loudly about stains on the rugs.

Life is too short to skip reading a good book,
or to say no when the kids ask to help you cook.

Life is too short to criticize and complain,
or to focus on things lost and not the things we gain.

Life is too short to neglect our lifelong friends,
or to waste time stressing about housework that never ends.

Life is too short to put our dreams on hold,
or to keep God’s love inside because sharing seems too bold.

Life is too short to share more tears than laughter,
or to lose faith in our vows, and happily ever after.

Life is too short to be cold and unforgiving,
or to forget to take a moment to appreciate living.

Vacation is fabulous...and so is turning 30

Vacation is defined as a period of time devoted to rest, travel, and recreation. I think when my family goes on vacation we go heavy on the recreation, light on the rest and travel! St. Louis kept us close enough to home but too busy to sleep much. The pool took priority over rest at every opportunity. I love being able to do absolutely nothing but enjoy my family. The agenda is simple. Have fun. Rules are off. "Sure we can swim well beyond your bedtime! Why not jump on the bed? Do you want a cookie with that Pepsi? What nap time?" It occurred to me that maybe the reason I enjoy these little trips so much has something to do with the fact that I have lived in Smalltown, USA all of my life. But seriously, we spend so much of our time working at our respective jobs and getting our daily responsibilities taken care of at home that it is rare and precious to have these chances to really focus on nothing but our own amusement. And how much we love one another. Of course I am going to enjoy that!

I love watching the kids react to new experiences and realizing how much they have grown and matured. Jaron is so brave when it comes to feeding and petting animals, and not so brave getting in the pool if it's a little chilly. Madison isn't about to put her hand against a camel's mouth but jumps into the water with reckless abandon. They both had their eyes closed less than I did when we went on a motion simulated log ride where we were falling down waterfalls and being attacked by crocodiles. And they both elected to ride on the top level of a two-story carousel at the Chesterfield Mall. And Kevin is such a big kid. An animal petting, cotton candy eating, "chocolate therapy" ice cream buying big kid. A weekend away was a great way to bring in the new decade of my life. Long story short--along with the zoo, Grant's Farm, The Arch, Bandana Barbecue, shopping malls in general, hotels with pools and free snacks and breakfast--vacation is fabulous. And so is turning 30.

Freedom does not ring any louder than that!

I love the story my grandma told every summer about my dad and the 4th of July. He was born on July 1st, and came home from the hospital on the 4th of July. It was a hot, humid day and Grandma hated to see him sweating in his little bed. There were windows on either side of the kitchen table so she layed a blanket on it and put him there. She says he watched his uncles shooting fireworks outside the kitchen window and has always loved the fourth of July because of that. Apparently on July 4, 1954, it was decided that our family would always celebrate our country's birthday. (By the way, I made another cake--check out the flag cake on the table!)

Independence Day has always been a big deal in my family, so maybe Grandma was right. As far back as I can remember, even when a lot of our clothes were homemade and none of us had Nike shoes or name brand jeans...we still had fireworks. I loved that. That is the beauty of tradition. You can depend on it. Tradition creates treasured memories. Tradition is what makes a group of people family. It is what makes our good friends our closest friends. I am trying hard to make sure my kids have traditions that go back as far as they remember. That's why Jaron experienced his first family and firework festivities the day after he came home from the hospital in 2004. Obviously we still make a big deal out of the 4th of July, although it has broadened into a Summer birthday/Independence Day gathering. That means we have combined the traditional fireworks with presents and cake! Birthdays, ours and our country's, are such a great time to count our blessings. I am so thankful for all the choices we are free to make and the dreams we are free to dream in America. Independence Day provides wonderful grounds to utilize our liberty by spending a weekend hanging out with family, playing with the kids, visiting with friends, and oooing and ahhhing over fireworks. Seriously, freedom does not ring any louder than that!

I love them all

Why is it that when we are younger birthdays always make us look to the future? I can’t wait to be 5 so I can go on the school bus! When will I be 6 so I can play T-ball? I couldn't wait to drive or be an “adult” or vote. Now that I am a “big kid” all I want to do when a birthday comes around is look back. Jaron is 4 years old today. He has always cried when people won’t share their food, and seldom for any other reason. He has always been completely crazy about chocolate AND completely crazy after someone gives him some of it! He has always been super cuddly when he is sleepy, and he has always had a smile that lights the world and makes discipline a challenge. I think his mouth ran a motor for a good year and a half as he learned he loves tractors, four-wheelers, and boats. And those big, brown eyes have always needed less than a moment to melt my heart.

Jaron has been planning on his chocolate, blue fish cake for months and he woke up from his nap to find it decorated and exclaimed, “WOW! Oh, Mom, how did you do that?” And he made sure everyone saw it. He loved his cake. I think I will always do what I can to get that WOW! reaction that I treasure! I am so glad I made the decision to make their cakes. I am definitely going to keep doing it. (I wasn’t so sure about halfway through when the clock was ticking too fast and I was blue up to my elbows, but I know Granny would be proud.)

I can’t believe it has been four years since I was hearing him cry for the first time, laughing as the nurse assured us his plumbing was working in the delivery room, praying for his safe delivery, and crying when my prayers were answered. Having kids is such an exquisite joy, a privilege, and I am so thankful that I am one of the blessed moms that gets to experience it. I read somewhere that being a mom is no big thing, it is a million little things. I have to agree motherhood is at least a million little things…and I love them all.

and then we got married

We spent Saturday--and I mean ALL of Saturday--at a slow pitch softball tournament. I thought Kevin had to have a cheering section. I went prepared. I had blankets, pillows, lots of Gatorade, coloring books, reading books, a tractor, a four-wheeler, and of course the bag chairs. The kids spent all day playing hard. As always, it was fun watching the kids play with Shelby and Kynleigh. We have known their parents all our lives and use to double date with them in high school. It is amazing how their mom and I have gone from, "What are you going to wear? Are you wearing your hair up or down?" to "Surely that nacho chip wasn't on the ground too long before they ate it." I love gaining new friendships through the years, but nothing compares to spending time with friends you have known all your life. It is just so comfortable that it feels like home.

I did discover that there was one thing I was not prepared for when it came to our almost 4-year-olds. Shelby excitedly came over to report that she had kissed Jaron. We asked if this kiss was on the lips and she proudly said, "Yep." Their heads were bobbing up and down as Jaron chimed in with, "Yep. And then we got married." We got a good laugh out of those two. You never know how things might turn out. I started thinking about how young I was when I chose my husband. He bought me a Mountain Dew at our Jr. High basketball tournament when I was in eighth grade and asked me to be his girlfriend. Our first kiss was on my 14th birthday. And then we got married.

last month of my twenties

It was almost dark when my family decided to go outside and check on the puppies before bed to make sure they were all safe and sound in their box. Some of them are getting brave and diving out but none of them can get back in! We decided to play with them for awhile before putting them up for the night. We stayed out there for an hour. They are so soft and cuddly and their personalities are really starting to set them apart. The kids would bring their pillows out and sleep with them if they could. It was such a blissful end to a busy day. I call Kevin the dog whisperer. He always knows what they need. I enjoyed it so much it led me to wonder if I will always be a kid at heart. I wondered how many 29-year-olds get such enjoyment out of puppies. Which led to my pondering the fact that I am living the last month of my twenties. I feel like I should do something a little crazy like bungee jump, sky dive, get a tattoo--while I can still use the "young and foolish" excuse. I feel like I need to do some serious soul searching to see if I have accomplished all I set out to accomplish by the time I was 30. But when I think it all over, all I really want to do is hang out with my three favorite people and play with the puppies. How much better can it get?

THERE'S NO CRYING IN BASEBALL!

The first time Madison stepped on to the school bus I could hear the clank of footsteps that only comes from walking on the bus floor. I could feel the stiff vinyl seat against my back and I could smell it. Metal and vinyl and new shoes and soap from all the freshly scrubbed kids going to the first day of the school. I have noticed that watching the kids grow helps me to remember those childhood rites of passage that I thought I had long forgotten. Let's take a look at softball.

I was never a power hitter. Most of my softball years I was the second batter and I got little base hits or I bunted here and there and I was happy with that. I loved running the bases. I loved the infield. Madison is playing T-ball. Going to these games, in my Atlanta T-shirt, no less, brings to life those old athlete glory days. I can remember what if feels like...that pure, smooth, "ping" feeling when you get a solid hit. I can remember that painful tingle in my palm that goes with catching a ball from Sarah Rhoades, and when Madison slides (as all the T-ballers feel compelled to do at home plate) it makes me want to rub my knee a little bit. It makes me think about how the older we get the better we were. It makes me think about our "team meetings" we use to have. I remember us all gathering at somebody's house and eating together. During basketball season we would watch Hoosiers but during softball season it was always A League of Their Own. It makes me think of my old teammates.

Last night we had T-ball Game #4. Madison got out at first base for the first time. She cried. Not a single tear, wipe it so nobody will see and be on my way kind of cry. A sobbing, I may not be able to make it back to the dugout without help--my hands are covering my eyes and I can't see where I'm going kind of cry. I do not remember that. I was so torn as a mother. I wanted to run to the dugout and explain that everybody gets out sometimes and she is doing a great job and all those wonderful things but all I could hear was Tom Hanks' bewildered voice screaming, "There's no crying in baseball!"

After the pep talk did not dry up the tears completely, I told Madison, "Just don't worry about it, honey. This is for fun! Whether you win or lose or make it home or get out, there's no crying in baseball!" She gave me a big sigh and a reminder.

She said, "This is t-ball, Mama." As if that makes all the difference in the world. Maybe it does.