Nephew Love - Lane D.

Kindergarten Homework

Technically, on the day that Lane was born I was not his aunt. While I loved his uncle, we were not married yet. We were not even engaged, actually. I was eighteen years old, and a freshman in college. I had not decided on my major yet, and basically had no idea what I was going to do with my life. Even so, the first time I held him in my arms I thought to myself, "This is what my children will look like." While I had two nephews on my side of the family, he was the first one on Kevin's side. He looked like the tiniest version of Kevin I could imagine, with his nose and dark hair. And I loved him as my own already. On his first day, I held him for a long time in the hospital room while his mom left to take a shower. I told him what a handsome and sweet little boy he was, and that I was going to be his Aunt Val. Later that evening, when describing him to my mom I said, "He has the Peavler nose and the Waddle ears, but he's really cute!"

                                                                                          

Kevin and I did a better job with our nieces and nephews before we had children of our own. We had more time to spend with them. The first time Kevin took Lane from me when it was time for his bottle and settled down in a chair to feed him, I got my first glimpse into the kind of father he might be. We soon learned he loved to ride anywhere with us, and we hardly ever told him no.  As a toddler he was quick to suggest a trip to Wal-Mart to buy a toy. We bought him a little life jacket on one of those trips and started taking him with us to the river in the boat. He was in diapers. The first time Kevin pulled a big flathead into the boat, he cried until we got him back to the bank, clinging to me for dear life! I had to hold him until that fish was in the freezer! Kevin made sure he got over that fear very quickly!  When he was around two, Kevin and I took him to a rodeo in Kirksville. I remember when it was time for the bull riding, Lane clapped his hands saying, "Yay!" throughout the entire eight seconds for every cowboy, whether he stayed on his bull or not! He fell asleep on my lap in the bleachers, and Kevin carried him to the truck.  

Keeping his eye on that big scary fish. We had to keep our distance.

The way Kevin and Lane related to one another when Lane was small helped me decide with 100% certainty that I did not want to start a family of my own with anyone else. We had so much fun with him in those early years that I think if we could have gotten away with keeping him to raise as our own we would have! Lane is eighteen years old now...the age I was when I met him. He drives himself wherever he wants to go these days, and we do not get to see him quite as much as we use to. He is definitely his own person, but once in a while I can still see Kevin in him. In a gesture he makes or something he says or the way he interacts with our kids. This year he took our son duck hunting in the same place Kevin remembers taking him on some of his earliest duck hunts. We love watching Lane catch in his ball games, and we never get tired of seeing him hit a baseball over the fence. His grades are impressive as well, which I am pretty sure has something to do with how many times he convinced me to read Green Eggs and Ham. Maybe. I hope he knows how proud we are of the young man he is becoming, and how much we have always loved having him as a part of our family. He will always have a special place in our hearts, and we will always be two of his biggest fans. Happy Birthday, Lane! Welcome to adulthood.  May your future be filled with memories as bright as the ones you have given to us.

Not scared of fish anymore!

Back to School 2014

When I was young, I marked the passage of time by the year. Maybe because I had fewer years in my memory to keep track of, or maybe because each year encompassed such obviously distinct memories. Each year was distinguished by its own grade in school, teachers, coaches, friendships, teammates, championships. As I get older, I mark the passage of time by events. I remember when things happened because it was before we got married, or after we had Madison. When the big kids were small. When I was expecting Jaron. When Megan was in diapers. Before I lost my grandparents. When I was in college. When Kevin hurt his back.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I have been dreading this day when my baby goes to kindergarten for about five years. On my timeline in my memory, things that happen for awhile now will be officially known as "when all the kids were in school." There have been times over the last couple of years when I have questioned my ability to survive this moment when I put all three of my children on the bus and send them to school. The moment when I would have to let my baby go and wonder if she is ready. I thought I would probably be traumatized, and maybe I would cry a little. I wasn't. I didn't.

It helps that she has been begging to go to school for at least two years, and she has been excited about getting to ride the school bus for even longer than that. But mostly, I think it was easy for me because she has this amazing big sister who loves her and watches out for her with such devotion that watching it in action makes my eyes burn and my throat ache on a regular basis. She is such a great kid to lead the way for Megan. And she has a brother who's got her back, I mean, when someone else is bothering her. I realize now it was much harder on me to send Madison all alone when she went to kindergarten. I know my baby is in good hands, and the act of sending her to school for her very first day was a piece of cake, really. So all of the kids are in school. They will all learn and grow and make wonderful memories in the very same place their parents and grandparents did.  I am looking forward to being with them throughout all of these experiences, but I am not naive to the fact that these years will fly by faster than I can imagine. There will be many days when I will try to slow the sand as it plummets through the hourglass. Those days will probably not be pieces of cake. I just wonder if I am ready.    

Pause

I had another birthday, and I am grateful beyond words. I was fortunate enough to have two handsome dates take me out to a nice dinner, and I also got to celebrate with family, friends, and fireworks. But I have to tell you, this birthday gave me a moment of pause...more so than any other year. Thirty-six. It is just that thirty-six seems so much closer to forty than thirty. And it is not that I think forty is old. Lord knows I remember when I did think that, but not anymore. I see the lines around my eyes in the mirror, and I know how often I break out that new box of Nice 'n Easy hair color, but those things really don't bother me at all. The sobering fact of the matter is that I have always believed that by the time I was forty I would really have things all figured out. I thought I would be the person I always wanted to be. I thought I would truly feel like a grownup. A woman who always keeps her cool, who writes everything on her calendar and checks it every single day. I was going to be that mom who had figured out the perfect balance of work, family, and activities. I thought I would always be on time and never forget anything. I thought I would know exactly what I was doing when it comes to parenting, and second guessing myself would be a thing of the past.

Not so much.

The truth is, I still speak my mind when I should have the composure to keep some things to myself. I still call some of my favorite people for advice or encouragement on a regular basis (Shout out to Mom, Vanita, and Aunt Cathy!). And it is impossible to completely master motherhood. Every time I start to feel like I am exactly the mother I want to be, the kids evolve into a new stage of life. Each stage brings joy and excitement, but it also tends to present some new challenges and a little bit of heartache. And the older my kids get, the more questions they ask me that I do not know the answers to. I am genuinely surprised when I have to buy my daughter real bras during our back to school shopping, or when I look out the window to see my son in safety goggles with a weed eater in his hands. The truth is, I can catch my husband's eyes over the heads of our children, and I can remember the first time he asked me to dance like it was twenty-three days ago, not twenty-three years. All I am saying is that this life is flying by just a little too fast. And I think maybe the one thing I know for sure is that instead of wasting time trying to figure things out, I need to focus on enjoying every moment!

Turning Ten

Jaron did not remember much about his birthday last year. He even wrote something in school about how I forgot to have a party for him or something. We did a small, family celebration but it did not register as very cool for him I guess. His birthday falls during a busy time of year, but after last year's disappointment I made the decision that I need to be more dedicated to giving him some awesome birthday memories!

I let him decide the activities and guest list. After debating between a fishing derby or a sports medley, he decided to go with sports. He asked me if he could invite his baseball team, his cousins, and his girlfriend. We had ballgame food: nachos and hot dogs. I mean, in the middle of summer none of us have had enough ballgame food, right? Of course there were cupcakes, ice cream, and Grandma Willams' punch. They played wiffle ball, basketball, kickball, and badminton, and he could not keep the smile off of his face throughout the party! With the heat, humidity, homecoming, and holiday, we were all elated that so many of the kids made it to his party. I think he will remember turning ten.

On the way home he told me his party was awesome. "The best birthday ever." SUCCESS! Won't that make for a better journal entry in fifth grade? I have always said about Jaron, from the time he was a baby, that all he needs to be happy is something to eat and something to do. It still holds true. I hope even when he is grown with responsibilities that he always takes time to have some fun on his birthday, and that he tries to spend it with his favorite people. I hope every year from now on brings him his best birthday ever! Love this kid!

Celebrating My Sister

I know that it is possible to live without a sister. In theory. I know there are plenty of people who do not have one, or who are estranged from theirs. In my head I know this to be true, but in my heart I just can't figure out how in the world people manage it. In the last few years I have become much more sentimental relative to my big sister. Maybe as I get older I can see how quickly the years are slipping by, or maybe as my children start needing me less I start needing her more. Mostly, I think it has a lot to do with watching her struggle over the past few years to get healthy. Whatever my reasons, there is no time like my sister's birthday to blog about the blessings of sisterhood.

When she married her high school sweetheart, I was eleven. I watched him sing to her at their wedding and I thought about the importance of following your heart. She gave me my first nephew when I was fourteen. An aunt was born. For the first time, I realized that the intensely protective love that I thought I had reserved for my own children could be felt even for a child I did not bring into this world. I did not realize I would love her children as if they were my own. When I was seventeen, she brought my second nephew into this world, and I learned about the fragility and uncertainty of life. This would not be her only lesson for me about that.

As I consider what life would be like without a sister, I wonder who else would have helped me double team our brother when he was being especially obnoxious? Who would have whispered and giggled with me late into the night? Who would have done my hair for prom or given me my first glimpse of the delivery room? Who would have helped me do cartwheels in the back yard or yanked out my eyebrows for the first time?

Don't get me wrong. My sister is not perfect. She is kind of a show-off, actually. She makes our parents all of these homemade artistic masterpieces for holidays. And I bring them like a calendar, or lotion or something. She use to enjoy sticking me in the grass when I was small because I did not like the feel of it on my bare legs, and I would freeze up with discomfort. I remember a few times on grade card day when she and our brother did not want to play with me because my grades might have been a little more impressive that semester. She often ran me off during her teenage years in an attempt to have more privacy when her friends came over. But NEVER in my life have I doubted her devotion to me. Never have I had a problem I was struggling with or a triumph to celebrate without being able to call her and know with one hundred percent certainty that she was going to be on my side. The list of people like that in my life is very short. I know she will get my jokes, remind me of my strong points and tolerate my bad ones.  I read that a sister is a little bit of childhood that can never be lost. That is true. But it is also a whole lot of adulthood. It is hearts and souls combined with laughter and tears. Happy Birthday, Vanita! May this year bring you strength, joy, peace, and love! I hope you all take a moment today to celebrate your sister.

Beyond Baseball

There was a time when precious little mattered more to me than going to state. My team and I worked hard, dreamed big, and played our hearts out every game. There were several years when we were ranked first in the state, and that dream did not happen. The high expectations came tumbling down around us and it was such a sad, bitter pill to swallow at the time. I know that in sports there are games, only one team wins, and a negative outcome should not feel like a tragedy, but when you are young the disappointment stings.

I was vividly reminded of this feeling tonight when our undefeated, #1 ranked high school baseball team fell in the district championship. You and I know it is only a game, but in the moment it doesn't feel like that. It feels like every second on the diamond--every practice, every game, every time your dad tossed you a ball in the back yard to swing at or took a baseball in the shins as your catcher...every moment of your life that you have ever spent on baseball comes down to this day and this game, and the loss hurts more than it should. My heart aches for these boys. 

I look at them in their hot pink shoelaces, in memory of a lifelong Hornet fan who passed away, and I cannot help but feel fierce pride in them. I am aunt to three of these guys, and babysat another when he was a toddler. I have changed their diapers and carried them around on my hip when they were small. I have known most of them for most of their lives, and I am proud of this group of young men for many reasons. 

Thirty-one wins and only three losses for the year is a pretty incredible record to begin with. They pulled off some amazing plays this year. I have seen teams load the bases with no outs, and our boys got out of the inning without letting a run score. They achieved many shutouts and no hitter games. The Hornets defeated many teams so soundly that sometimes those games had the feel of a homerun derby, and we were on our feet in the stands. Repeatedly. All nine of our starters knocked the ball out of the park this season. There are surely broken records all over the score book from the 2013-2014 school year. One of my favorite things to watch was the way every player on the team contributed to the overall effort. The teamwork was a tangible thing that could be felt by us all. I could easily see what a good job they did working together and encouraging one another on the field.

I don't think you have this in a big school, but the thing about growing up in a small town is you have the same group of boys playing together, growing up together in the classroom and in sports, day in and day out. By the time all is said and done, the team is like family. A brotherhood. Anyone in the stands could feel how much our boys enjoyed themselves on the field as their enthusiasm for the game was contagious. They brought us to our feet every game. I think I can speak for Hornet Fans everywhere when I say it has been an honor to wear blue this year. I am thankful my son has this group to look up to.

I know it is a little raw for them right now that their season ended before they wanted it to. I know that athletes cannot compete forever, and the opportunity to play sports can be fleeting. Earning the title of State Champion has to be sweet, and I believe our boys deserve that. But I have heard many words used to describe this group of young men. Words like respectful, caring, good-hearted, dedicated, steady, mature, level-headed, outstanding, well-behaved, and fun. So while this was not their year to go as far as they wanted to in baseball, all of those other titles listed above? Those are not things they have to reach for. They already are those things. Those qualities will shape the type of men they will be throughout their lives. Those qualities will help them to become great contributors to society. I see these boys becoming dependable employees, solid husbands, devoted fathers...and maybe outstanding coaches and leaders of young people. These guys look people in the eye and shake their hand. When I consider how impressive this group of young men is beyond baseball, I know their lives will be impressive as well! Hang on for the long haul, Atlanta People! I am pretty sure feeling proud of these guys is something we will be doing for a long time to come!

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!!