One Man's Opinion

My kids play sports.  They play football, soccer, baseball, swim and run.  They do some better than others.  They love some more than others.

I grew up showing horses.  I was so blessed to be able to do it.  And it was a sport I shared with my dad.  The time and money my dad spent on our horses is beyond my comprehension.  We did it together.  We showed at one day local shows and we traveled up and down the East Coast showing Arabians.  Even when we had a trainer we still hauled, groomed and cooled out our own horses.  I am trying very hard to give that same time and support back to my own children.

One of the greatest bits of advice my dad gave was after I did not get the ribbon I thought I deserved in a class.  He said, "We are paying for one man's opinion and that is what we got."  Now, you can take that in a lot of ways.  As far as horse shows go, only show where you know the judge will like you and your horse.  But is that a fair assessment of you and your horse?  Maybe, maybe not.  But because of his words (and that fact that my horses did not always behave) I am a pretty good looser.  I never cry over loosing.  To me, second place is pretty darn good!  Especially when you are second out of 12 and the only horse that beat you is professionally trained and you trained yours yourself after work!

In the last year I have had this come to my mind when my kids have played ball.  Once in soccer and once in baseball.  Neither was a call by the umpire but by the coach.  Both were coaches that we requested to coach our children.  So what are we getting?  One man's opinion!  It was their opinion to pull kids out of positions for the sake of winning.

I know, mistakes are made.  Kids have good days and play great.  But they have bad days, long days, school, homework and growing up!  Sports should be fun and they should learn to play that sport and enjoy it.  My kids are 12, 10 and 7.  None of them are going to be drafted by a major school while they are playing for Concord Parks and Rec.  But I hope these coaches give them the love and the basic skills to play these games as long as they are able.

I hope they give those kids they pulled another chance to play that position.  To learn what they could do better.  And I hope those kids (mine and the others pulled from positions) go home and practice. I hope they kick, hit and throw to get out their frustrations with their coaches and themselves.  I hope they are motivated to get better.  I hope they show that one man's opinion might have been right that one game but it won't be that way again.

Lent #beyondnochocolate

It is Friday and I have been sick all week.  I am finally feeling human again.  And I see all the things that have fallen through the cracks while I was in my flu-haze.  My floors are dirty, my desk is cluttered, my boys need hair cuts, my daughter has no clean socks (she hasn't for two days) and the trash is starting to smell.   But I was sick!  I have an excuse, but it is time to begin the act of catching up.

And you know Wednesday is Ash Wednesday?  I haven't thought much about what I should do.  Does it matter?  Sure it does!  It really does matter!  My new years resolution was to be cleaner.  Cleaner house, cleaner food and cleaner relationships.  The food and house part makes sense, I am sure.  By a cleaner relationship I mean to have honest, real relationships.  This is the perfect time to work a little harder on the relationship part.  Because that is what Lent is all about.  If you think it is about cutting out soda or sugar so your pants fit better, you are missing the point.  The point is to take out the distractions that keep us from our conversations with God.  Or add something in that brings your closer to Him.

This weekend I will think more on this as I clean my house and do loads and loads of laundry, after I take my boys for hair cuts!

Life According to 'Pretty In Pink'

I graduated from high school in 1987.  I lived in a great small town in North Carolina.  One large high school in the entire county.  Two junior high schools fed into this one high school, East and West.  I went to West.  It was located on the more affluent side of town.  The nicer neighborhoods fed into West.  I remember entering high school on that first day of 10th grade and identifying people by the junior high they attended.  You where either East or West.

I still have many close friends from East, my first boyfriend was from East.  And in a way they were exceptions.  In reality they weren't.  But we said they were.

In 1986 Pretty In Pink hit theaters.  The soundtrack was full of edgy 80's talent.  But the story hit home in so many ways.  It became the theme for my high school days.

Fast forward to 2016, thirty years later.  The great powers that be bring Pretty in Pink back to the big screen.  I bought tickets online for $15!  I probably paid $5 in 1986.  And there was no 'online.' My small drink was $5!  (I did not get popcorn!)

The movie starts and I know every single scene.  But it still grabs at my heart.  I remember that feeling when  a cute boy looks at you and says, "Hi." Or when someone unexpected makes an effort to be near you in a way no one ever has before.  I never had a Duckie but I had dear friends.  And I loved the prom!  My mother and I made my dresses (I went four times).  And unlike Andie, I fell in love with James Spader!

As I write this, I realize I can't put into words the feelings I had last night.  I laughed and I cried.  I heard things I didn't remember.  Like Stef telling Benny she needed to eat when she had had to much to drink, "Let's go find you some food, like some ribs or something."  I probably didn't get it because in 1986, I had yet to experience a hangover.

I sat with a new friend who is younger.  She never saw Pretty in Pink on the big screen.  She wasn't even born when it came out!  But she understands the angst and thrill of being a teenage girl.

My oldest son's first day of middle school is today.  I want all this for him (and of course my other children).  The thrill of someone making your heart beat fast.  The confidence to choose friends and girlfriends and boyfriends based on the good you see in them not their address.  The love of a best friend who would do every thing for you and you would do the same in return.

Why Yes, I Blink!

David 6th

I am going to blink, because it isn't polite to stare.  On the first day of school so many parents use the hashtag, #dontblink.  I won't, and here is why!

Today my oldest started middle school.  David is kind, smart and fun.  I have enjoyed being his mom.  And I did get a little teary as I dropped him off.  He wouldn't look at me as he got out of the car, I know he was a little anxious.  But I have faith in the job his father and I have done raising him, that he will be fine.

Thomas 1st & Blakely 4th

He will take care of his friends, he will be a good friend.  He will make good choices (except maybe in the cafeteria).  And I hope he has as much fun in middle school as I did in junior high.

Thomas and Blakely are in the first grade and fourth grade.  We have raised them to be strong individuals who are making their own path in elementary school, not living in their brother's shadow.  They too, are smart and fun and will make good choices.

All that said, I am not sad they are growing up.  We didn't have children to keep them as infants for 20 years.  I loved that cuddly baby stage but I love my children where they are now too!  I have loved and embraced them at every point of their lives.  I am excited for the journey ahead.

One of my favorite pieces of scripture is "This is the day the Lord has made, Let us rejoice and be glad in it." Psalm 118:24  If we didn't have the bad days, we wouldn't embrace the good ones.  If we didn't have the terrible two's then we wouldn't be ready for 5th grade girls!  Each step in life leads us to the next one.  Embrace what you have and what it took to get you there.  And blink, take a nap if you need to.  Raising children isn't easy but the results are worth it!

November 13

I don't usually dwell on this day.  And I tell people who struggle with the anniversary of deaths that it gets better.  That one day you just won't remember this day.  One day you will celebrate instead of crying.  And I have celebrated for a long time.  But today I am sad.

Dale said around 6:45am that today is Friday the 13th.  And for some reason it hit my like a ton of bricks.  You died on November the 13th and it was a Friday.  I don't think there has been a Friday the 13th in November since and if there has, I didn't recognize it.

And as the morning ticked by I thought about that morning.  As I tied my running shoes I thought, "this is about the time Mom called and told me to go get Phoebe."  She said, "He has fallen and you need to come. He is pretty banged up, he hit his face."  I called Paw Creek, arranged to meet Phoebe and we drove to Durham.  I didn't realize it was the end until Dolly called.  We were almost to Duke.  "How far are you?  We are holding his hand and telling stories."

We held your hand, we said good bye.  Mary answered questions we didn't know to ask.  And now as I write and look at the clock, I think at this point we were going to get pie and coffee.  We didn't know what else to do.  Daddy would have gone for pie!  I sat in my car and called Drew from the parking lot.  And now Drew is gone too.

I ran today in a Run for Reta shirt.  And Reta is gone.  It is a beautiful day.  I am sad.  But they all would have loved this day.  I may cry a little bit more, but I am going to celebrate them all when my tears are dry.

Cancer sucks, suicide sucks.

Mother's Day is Everyday

During all the hoopla of Mother's Day at church I began to think what this day really means.  And I am sure some of you believe it is a day that mothers should be pampered and given gifts.  All that is nice but all I wanted was a pair of jeans.  I didn't tell anyone that so of course, I did not get them.

What I got was some handpicked daisies and lots of homemade cards and notes.  Each child made things in Sunday School and in their classrooms that I will treasure.  I love the notes that say how old I am and how much I weigh and what the like doing with me.  As a 4 year old David said I was 8 feet tall and weighed 600 pounds!

My kids sing in the Children's Choir.  This Mother's Day the lucky moms got to sing with them.  It was a very sweet song.  They sang a verse, then we sang and we finished the song together.  But I stood in front of my congregation and my eyes kept falling on my friend, Katie.

One of Katie's dear friends has Ovarian Cancer.  She is in Hospice care and she is my age.  Her boys are young tweens.  Katie went to visit last week.  Then she ran a race on Saturday to raise money for Ovarian Cancer research.  Katie ran with all her heart.  I think I would have fallen on the road and cried.

Katie sat with her daughter on Mother's Day crying on her shoulder.  I choked on my words.  I don't sing well anyway!  My sweet son held my hand.  And then it hit me.  Mother's Day isn't about my kids thanking me for what I have done as their mother.  It is about me realizing how blessed I am to be a mother.  Not everyone who wants to be a mother can be.  Not everyone does it well.  Some mothers have difficult children.  Some mothers can't keep their children.  Sure there are struggles and weary times.  But for the most part my children are wonderful!  Wonderful combinations of my family and my husband's.  Nothing is sweeter than all three of them belly laughing at each other!

God has given me these three kids when he thought I needed them.  I didn't think I needed a third at 40!  But he is such a blessing.  God knew I needed that little guy.  He makes me laugh.  And he is quick to hug me and tell me he loves me.

How lucky am I to teach my daughter that she is beautiful and smart and sweet and strong!  That she can do whatever she wants.  And that she will never let me down.

I am blessed to learn baseball and video games and girl crushes from my oldest.  He is so much fun! I cross my fingers and pray every day that he continues on this path, that my husband and I keep him on this path.  He is such a treasure.  And I am so lucky to call him mine!

So from here on out to me Mother's Day is going to be one of the many days that I think God for making me a mother!

Mother's Day 2015
David 10, Blakely 8 and Thomas 5

Make up and Spring cleaning!

It is spring and that urge to clean has taken a’hold of me!  I have found it is much easier to toss the

things other people own than it is my own.  But I am learning to let go.  I have let go of those cute sparkly jeans that I will never fit into again!  I just won’t!  On Saturday I let go of some make up. 

I know you are only supposed to hang on to it for a year.  I wasn’t wearing any of it.  My old roommate, Rebecca worked for Clinique.  All their make up comes in silver and mint green containers.  Just looking at it gives you a pretty and clean feeling.  I had so many of those rectangular silver eye shadow boxes!  I had colors for every outfit and every occasion. 

But times have changed for me.  Clinique is not cheap and we have three kids.  I run and teach yoga and wear very little make up.  Some days I don’t wear any, I love those days!  But I still held on to those silver boxes.

I think they reminded me of a sweet time in my life.  I had some great friends, a fun job and I could pull off wearing eyeshadow called Pink Chocolate (yes, a brown/pink combo) or Spring Wedding (it was green)  or Waterblues or Barely There.  

I held on to them because they made me think of friends I made and don't talk to any more.  You know the saying, 'some people come into your life and stay and some stay for a short while; but they are all there for a reason.'  They reminded me of a job I had that was probably one of the best examples of team work I have ever experienced.   

We were in our mid 20's.  Some in school, some not, all of us trying to define ourselves and what we wanted to be.  We waited tables in a locally owned restaurant.  It wasn't fine dining but it wasn't Applebee's either.  We helped each other out, we learned from each other and we supported each other.  These people drove two and half hours to be with me after my dad died.  We bailed each other out.  We drove each other home.  We laughed and we cried.  For about two years we worked together without much drama between us.  Then slowly we all scattered.