Feeling like I have a Sophomore Angel

So here is something really weird about homecoming....

...if you are taking one of my children, during their sophomore year, to the homecoming dance, your dinner may be paid for.

I have a Junior and a Sophomore.

Two weeks ago, they both went to the homecoming dance.

I found out, after the fact, that my daughter (the sophomore) went out to dinner with her date and another couple, and when they went to pay....the tab was already picked up.

When we visited about this hero-ic/angelic/thank-the-lord turn of events, Nathan...who is a Junior...said that last year, when he went to pay for him and his date....their ticket had already been taken care of.

Dear Internets,
 I had nothing what-so-ever to do with this ticket-paid-for turn of events.
I have my suspicions...but do not know how this person would have taken care of Nathan's tab last year when he was on a party bus of a bunch of people....all who had to pay for their own way.

The only thing I can guess right now is that there is an angel watching over my kids during their sophomore year in high school.  (and if you have read my blog for any length of time, you know that I'm not just talking about homecoming tickets.) 

Feeling like I have a Sophomore Angel....helping me watch over my sophomores....

Happy Birthday, Claire!

and then there were three....teenagers.

On this very morning, as of 4:56 a.m., this girl became a teenager.

Making 3 out of 4 people in this photo teenagers.

(consequently sending me to my knees in prayer)

In keeping with birthday tradition in our house, she got to choose her birthday breakfast.  Her favorite cake...angel food with strawberries.

No surprises here.

Which is unlike the story of her birth...which she likes to hear every. year.

Claire was due on the 19th of the month; I had a scheduled c-section set for the 11th; water broke on the 6th; she was born on the 7th.  And she has been cutting her own path in life ever since.

Last night as I was tucking in my 12-year-old for the last time we chatted about how special it was to be a teenager and some of the important things to remember during these years.  We talked about when she was little and how she used to say that when she grew up she wanted to live in a camper in my driveway with her two adopted daughters.  We talked about what she was going to wear for school on her birthday.  We talked about her friends.  We talked about her.  And I might have said something like this:

Dear Claire~
Now that you are a teenager, it is important for you to know a few things.
I know that you know this, but it bears mentioning...deodorant is a necessity, not an option. Personal hygiene and taking good care of you is important because...
You are special.
Probably more special than you even know...but I know these things and I need to tell you.  Again.  And again.
You are special.
It is important for you to always remember this.  You need to treat yourself as the special person you are.  The best person that you want to be is the way you should treat yourself.
Do not ever talk badly about you.
Do not think badly about you.
You are a daughter of the most high King.
That makes you a princess.
Remember that and treat yourself and others accordingly.
And on the same note...don't let anyone else treat you in a way that you do not want them to.
Some may say things or act in ways that hurt your feelings or are unworthy of a princess.
It is okay to stand up for yourself.
There is no reason for you to believe or follow the world if it is not fitting for you.
Because
You are special.
And you have many sisters who are also princesses.
Remember that and stand up for and by your sisters in Christ.
It's okay to cry.
And eat cake for breakfast on occasion.
It's okay to reach out and ask for help.
And even though you have been blazing your own trail in life since before your first appearance on earth,
Know this one thing....
"3-fingers-and-a-pinch"
the "okay" sign
Our code for
"I love you this much"
the 3 fingers meaning "i love you" and the pinch being "all the way around the world and back to where we are"
and if there is another thing I can add to this...
as you grow up, I know you no longer aspire to grow up and live in a camper close to my house so we can always be together....
....
but as you grow up, I can honestly say that my proverbial camper is always  parked outside of wherever you are....praying for you no matter where you are.

  Happy Birthday, teenager!
 Love, Mama

Eeny meeny miney moe...

Not sure which emotion I want to feel right now; embarrassed that our lawn hasn't been mowed in over a month and my almost father-in-law showed up out of the blue to mow it, or thankful that Brian's dad came over to mow our overgrown weeds/lawn.

I think I'm feeling both.

Are you Good with Numbers?

I'm not naturally gifted when it comes to numbers.

Even though numbers are a big part of my life.

But I have found something to the following equation to be true, no matter what the numbers are:

(# of extra curricular activites) x (# of kids and young adults )

is directly related to

(# of hours on the road/in the gym/on the field) PLUS (loads of laundry) Plus  (# of times I am so thankful for the help and support of friends and family)

So here's a math problem for all you who like a numbers-sort of challenge

If a mama spends  15.75 hours in 4 days (mostly at the speed limit) in a vehicle
in order to watch 6.75 hours of various sporting events
AND
does 11 loads of laundry at home and 5 loads of laundry simultaneously at the laundromat in the  2 days immediately following the aforementioned sporting events/extracurriculars,
with 5 loads of laundry left to do before the 48th hour of the second day is up....

Exactly how insane does the mama in this scenario go before she snaps? 

Just curious...in case you are good with numbers, I'd like to know.

'Cause like I said, I'm not so good with numbers.

Team Dinner and the Home Field Advantage

These days, our lives seem to revolve around all of our activities.

2 kids and a significant other are tied up with football.

1 kid spends her after-school hours running cross-country.

2 kids are in volleyball.

And some bonus kids who are away from home are busy with their own sports.  Brian and I try our best to keep up and support them in their respective lives and activities. 

Each week, on the night before a game or a meet, the kids all go to a team dinner.  Moms of each class take turns hosting the team dinner.

I find such value in sitting down with others and sharing a meal.  It's no surprise that this serves as a team building event between the athletes, coaches, managers and all involved.  I believe there is even research that supports the the benefits of regularly sharing a meal with your....team.

I guess that is why I am pouting today.  I used to host these team dinners. It was a time to re-group, talk, plan, dream, laugh and even argue.  No matter the meal or the topic/sport/theme, I can honestly say that I saw the benefits of regularly sharing a meal with my team.

Only we just called it "supper."

And nobody called me "coach."  They just called me "mom."

*************

I'm trying really hard to keep building up my team.  To remind them that no matter how the game of life turns out, there are always people in their corner.  A place to share a meal and people to share it with.

A Home Field/Court/Course Advantage. 

But it just isn't as easy anymore.  And my team isn't always receptive. 

This weekend I had something planned for all of us to do together.  I have two willing participants, one reluctant participant, and one who just can't squeeze the time into her schedule. 

It's not their fault that I am upset about this.  I'm extremely proud of my team and have seen them become great leaders in their own lives. 

I just miss the days when our activities revolved around our lives and not the other way around. 






  

A New Season. A New Story. A New Normal.

As I go through and edit and organize photos for the football team this year, I find myself dragging my feet just a bit.

Some have asked me if I'm trying to do something that someone else already does as far as taking pictures of the team.

No. I'm not.

I'm organizing a story in snapshots for some athletes whose parents have asked me to do so.

As I do this, I look back at my own Wildcat's story from last year.  And this week, of all of them, is harder for me.

We play North Cedar this week.  Last year, this was the last game that I was able to see Nathan in the role that he played for so many years.

And this time last year, I didn't know that it would be the last time I'd get to see him calling plays, leading his team, defending and receiving the ball. 

This year his role is different.  He is on special teams.  And his role is no less important.  But there are things he misses.

There are some who give him a hard time about this.

But I see how far he has come just to do what he is doing.

And I know that the story could have turned out way different.

It's a new season.
A new story.
And a new normal.

And I'm so thankful for being given a new chapter.


I guess sometimes you have to know what the previous chapter said in order to appreciate the new one.

the sweetest sound of the story

It's fall.

I stand along the sidelines of a high school football game, camera in hand.

I'm taking photos for the team and for parents of some of the athletes who have requested a photo-score of their son throughout the football season. 

My goal:  To capture the story of the season--for better or for worse--through snapshots. 

I'm pretty good at tuning out the smell of sweat, the spitting, the swearing and other sideline distractions. 

I'm pretty good at capturing the guts and heart of the story taking place on the field.  Through snapshots. 

There is one sound that I cannot tune out.


 In the middle of the thundering noise of 22 young men running feet in front of me,

the cheers of the crowd,

the whistles, the coaches and other reporters. 

In the middle of all of that I hear a a sound that rings like music to my ears and reaches the depths of my soul. 

One word.

Spoken through the facemask of one athlete.

"Mama."

That one word and an outstretched arm in gesture to give me a fist pound...
and for those few seconds the entire game stops for me. 

Then he runs out to the field and kicks an extra point for the team.

I'm just so thankful for the opportunity to capture the stories of several athletes on this team.

But forever grateful to be a character in the story of #6.