About Jaron

I have always said boys are easier to raise than girls. I only have one son, so I am not sure if he makes me an expert on this topic. Maybe Jaron is just a laid back kid and it has nothing to do with his gender. Something I have always said of him is that all he has ever needed to be happy was something to eat and something to do. That hasn't changed much as he has grown. The girls have always been much more vocal over the years, letting their opinions be known relative to friends, wardrobe, accessories, sports, or school. Sometimes they share a little too much information. With Jaron, I challenge you to ask him a question that will require him to answer with anything other than, "Good." Or, "I don't know." On rare occasions when he is in the mood to talk, I always drop what I am doing and stay up as late as necessary to hear everything that is on his mind. I soak up every word and savor them all until the mood strikes him again. Which is actually something I do for his dad as well. 

A funny thing happened while Jaron was growing up. One day he was sitting on my lap asking for a cupcake at a birthday party, and the next I came to the realization that he hadn't been hoarse for weeks because of his allergies. His voice was changing and all of a sudden he started sounding like his dad. I thought I would forget a lot of things from my youth as I got older, but having kids actually triggers some of the most vivid memories. When Jaron takes the baseline to hit a jump shot under the basket it brings back hours of my life that I spent in the bleachers watching his dad do the exact same thing.

I see pieces of myself in Jaron. Our sense of humor is the same. It takes a lot to get us upset, but when we get there it takes a long time for us to forget about it. Mostly I see Kevin in him.He makes me laugh when I am trying to be mad at him. He dribbles a basketball like Kevin did. He smiles his dad's crooked smile and he spends more time watching people than talking to them. They stand the same way. They walk the same. Both of them would rather not be the center of attention. I tried to have an 8th grade graduation party for Jaron, and he was adamantly opposed to the idea. He asked me not to have a cake with his name on it. I suggested a class party for all of them and he was on board with that. The cake said Class of 2022. I think that maybe because he is not a huge fan of attention, I don't blog about him enough so I just want to say how proud I am to be his mom.

Whether it is because he is a boy, or our middle child, or just because he is Jaron, he is by far the most easygoing of our kids. He still requires something to eat on a pretty regular basis. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and it sounds like there is a raccoon in my kitchen. In the morning I will find crumbs from a frozen pizza, an empty muffin pan, or evidence of pancakes or ice cream in the sink.   Although Jaron is a teenager and a head taller than me now, he has never gotten snotty or hateful with me. Sometimes I am caught off guard by his perception of the feelings of those around him. If I am upset, he immediately picks up on it, and it makes him so easy to confide in. Your secrets are definitely safe with him. He reads people with a wisdom beyond his years. He has never been selfish when it comes to sports, and I love the way he never chooses to be a ball hog. He doesn't know how graceful he is on the basketball court. I have never known him to question a game official's call or talk back to a teacher in school. Because Jaron is more private, we always know that when he asks for something it is important to him, or he wouldn't bother bringing it up. When I consider the fact that he doesn't ask for a lot, and I have always been a sucker for big, brown eyes, I have a hard time telling him no. He is the kind of guy who holds his girlfriend's hand and helps her across the parking lot pot holes on the way into a formal dance. He loves basketball, he plays baseball, and he is going to break records in track one day and he doesn't even realize it. I love watching him grow into the man he will become. In fact, I love watching him be the young man that he already is.               

The Last One - Softball Edition

When Madison was four years old I signed her up to play Iddy Biddy Ragball at the YMCA. I couldn’t wait to get her started playing ball. When her first game rolled around, she cried. She was so scared and unsure of herself that she needed someone to hold her hand and lead her out to her spot on the field. It quickly became obvious how much she needed to learn during that first softball game, and it seemed like a million years until the last one.

Time marches on and somehow I find myself with fourteen years of softball memories with this kid. Driving her places until we started letting her drive herself. Team practices and tournaments and throwing a ball in the yard. Gloves, bags, helmets, face masks, weighted balls, bats (and bigger bats), blue shoes, softball parties, and one memorable injury that put me in a boot. She loves the game now. She is aggressive when running the bases and she knows where she belongs when it is time to run out onto the field. 

You can see everything from the bleachers. I have seen Madison shed a few tears of disappointment. I have seen her make plays and crush softballs. I have seen high fives, jumps for joy, fist bumps, and hugs. I have seen her knock girls down and I have seen her help them back up. She sets goals and works really hard to achieve them. She encourages her teammates when they are frustrated. The scared little girl who started playing this game is a leader now with tremendous poise, and I am so proud of her that my heart can barely take it.  

Madison, what I would like to say to you as your softball career comes to a close is that there are two things I know for sure:
1.) I have loved watching you play. I love everything you bring to the softball field. I love watching you crush the ball and throw girls out who think they can bunt down your baseline. I love how smart you are on the bases and how you lift up your teammates when they are down. I am so proud of your work ethic and perseverance. You are all in. It’s one of my favorite things.   
2.) If you approach the rest of your life the way you have approached softball there is nothing you cannot do. Your determination and hard work will serve you well in everything that you try to do and I am excited to see where you will go from here. While your softball games are coming to an end, I will never stop cheering for you.

Parents, if you get the opportunity to take off from work half an hour early to get to the game on time, take it. And don't feel guilty as you carry your chair to your spot by the ball field fence. If you just made it home and you are debating whether to make that long drive to the away game on a weeknight because you know you could really use some extra sleep, just get in the car and go. One day, you will be standing in your bedroom putting on a shirt to match your daughter's jersey, and the game you will be getting ready for will be her last one. This time I am the one who needs someone to hold my hand. 

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.

The Most Amazing Thing

I have always wanted to take vacation time the week between Christmas and New Year’s Day. You know, the kids are home from school and holidays can be hectic, but when you work in healthcare, that’s a pretty unpopular idea. It’s basically frowned upon. Most of the time, hospitals are busy in the winter, and hospital employees do not take a lot of time off. So I would go off to work, leaving my kids in bed at home, and try not to be grouchy with the people I love who get lengthy holiday breaks from their jobs…and that has been my dilemma since the Christmas of 2002. The holiday season has never been a vacation...just a day or two off, if you're lucky. 

This year, I no longer work in healthcare. I was encouraged to take the entire week of Christmas off. And a few days for the New Year, too.  At first a wave of guilt washed over me. I thought of all of my friends and family in their scrubs heading off to work in the cold, scheduling Christmas with their families around their shifts where they would be taking care of other people’s families. I have sold my scrubs, but I remember how they do nothing against the cold.

Then Kevin and I took the kids to see Latchford’s Christmas Lights. I made Mom’s peanut butter blossoms and Granny’s snickerdoodles. I made Aunt Sue’s cheese ball and I did my Christmas shopping all in one day, and wrapped presents the next. I took all of the kids and myself to the dentist. I did laundry for two solid days. I spent a day shopping and having lunch with Megan and her Great-Grandma, and I took a minute to look through my Christmas scrapbook and get all sentimental about all of the Christmases that brought my family to this Christmas. I helped Kevin do some work on the garage and his truck, and made him take a picture against his will. We got to see all of our parents and siblings and nieces and nephews because we still have them all. I wore fuzzy socks and drank big mugs of coffee, and I still don’t have to go back to work tomorrow. It is the most amazing thing.

I would like to apologize to my healthcare peeps because I probably won’t feel guilty every year for this amazing break from reality and this wonderful pause from everyday life in which I can enjoy precious, lazy moments with my kids. I will promise you this, though. I will never take it for granted. I will never complain because I know someone who is getting a couple more days off than me, because I will always remember that I know people who are getting a lot fewer days off. I will always appreciate you all. In fact, maybe next year I will bring you some Christmas Cookies while I am on my holiday vacation. 

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.

Birthday Girl

We have always said of Megan that she is our most emotional child. Our drama queen. She tends to cry sometimes in the morning when fashion tells her to wear shorts and a tank top and the weather forecast tells her to wear jeans and a hoodie. When she is happy, her laughter reaches out and grabs everyone around her. When she is sad, she is down on the floor with her cheek against the hard wood. Her chatter cannot be contained when she is excited, and her anger tends to present itself with deliberate foot steps that can be heard from a pretty good distance.

I don't know if that really makes her emotional or if she just feels things very deeply. I can tell you that when she loves you, her love wraps itself around you and hangs on for dear life. It can pull you out of the worst of moods. She will support and encourage you until she doses off to sleep in exhaustion from her efforts. If she loves you, she is your number one fan and helper and her commitment to you is off the charts. There is no halfway with Megan Joleen. She runs like someone is chasing her, she sings like she is on American Idol, and she dances like she is trying out for a music video. She may be the smallest member of our family, but she is definitely a go big or go home kind of girl. Things tend to be black or white for Megan. Right or wrong. Good or bad. She does not have much patience for anything in between...and she seldom hesitates to share her thoughts about it. I love it that you always know where you stand with her.

This year, she loves riding her bike and playing softball. She is happiest when she is in charge, so she tries to maintain authority at every opportunity. Her favorite TV shows are Henry Danger and the Thundermans. She loves helping with anything, and she believes the themed dress up days at school are a big deal. She is always prepared with a hairband around her wrist, and time with family and sleepovers with friends rate high on her list. It is such a joy and privilege to watch her become the person she will be. The person she already is. Happy Birthday, Megan Joleen! I am so proud to have a daughter with a heart as big as her dreams!

Speaking of 2106

In 2016 I only wrote one blog post, and it isn't even a great one. In fact, if I were a teacher grading the quality of that post I would call it below average. I admit to being a slacker when it comes to my blog, but don't be fooled into thinking my one blog post was because I did not have a year worth recording. 2016 probably contained more change and chaos than most years I have known in my adult life.

I gained two beautiful nieces, inside and out. They have both added much light and love to our family. Speaking of my family, my children attended so many sporting events and practices that I don't even remember them all. Madison had basketball, softball, and track. Jaron had two basketball seasons (5th & 6th grade and junior high) and two baseball teams. Megan played big kid, coach pitch softball and a little basketball. I know our house contains more medals, trophies, ribbons, and team photos than it did in 2015.

Speaking of our house, after fourteen years of sharing our 100-year-old, 900-square-foot house, we bought a new one and moved. That statement is so simple to make but the process was considerably more complicated. It is more house than we wanted or needed, but it is on the family farm where Kevin has wanted to live since he was a small boy, and it already feels more like home than anywhere else we have been. Over the years I remember wishing for a spare corner or closet, and now I have two (yes, two!) spare bedrooms and eleven closets. Eleven. I love them. There will be many posts about the new house relative to the projects it brings to us and how much we are enjoying life in it.

Speaking of fourteen years, after fourteen years of working in the same job, not quite a month after moving into the new house, I attended a meeting on a random Wednesday afternoon where I learned my program and hours would be reduced by half. Most people would probably cut and run at this point (and I considered it), but the thing is, I love my job. I considered my options and looked into both full-time and part-time employment for the first time since graduating from college. I ended up substitute teaching on some of my days off until finding what my mom likes to call a "part-time full-time" job. So on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays I am directing the cardiac and pulmonary rehab programs for a hospital, and on Tuesdays and Thursdays I am working for a title company. It's really not as random as it sounds.

Speaking of my mom, she retired. Her retirement is treating me well! I had some doctor appointments and an outpatient procedure and she was able to go with me to all of that. I call her all hours of the day now. She and Dad made several trips to the new house to help out and she was there with me on moving day. Speaking of moving day, I will definitely write more about that. It was epic.

First Day of School 2016

2016 brought a lot of change and challenge to a girl who is most comfortable with the familiar. It brought Madison into high school and Jaron into junior high. My schedule has never been more hectic. My life has never felt more beyond my control. Although I spent a lot of time moving in different directions, and I may not have been very impressive with my blog, I am absolutely trying to do the best I can with my family, home, and career. I can tell you that sometimes it really wears me out. But it also fills me up. I noticed something pretty significant during a rare, quiet moment of 2016. I have never felt more content.