Turkey and Cheese Love

 This is a repeat post from last year.  

This summer looks pretty similar, minus a couple of details here, sprinkling a few over there, still packing lunches and spending hours on end at the ballpark.

Hope you are enjoying your summer. 

Thanks for stopping by and visiting me here at Write-On, Mom!  

 

Nothing says "I love you" like a turkey & cheese sandwich with mayo and mustard.

Or so I'm told.

The Wildcat has been putting in 40 hours a week at his summer job.  He leaves there and heads off to baseball every night.  He dresses for three teams.

I'm sorta proud of this kid.

Earlier this month, I told him I would pack him a cooler and drop it off to him.  I did exactly that.  When I approached the dugout he looked at me like "what are you doing here?" 

Not the reaction I had hoped for.  I handed him his lunch and walked away.  And held back my tears.

The next game I did the same thing.

And the next game.

And the next.

His reaction quickly changed over the course of the month.  And I actually got a "Thanks, mama. I love you."

Did you read that?

He said it.  In the dugout.  With team and coaches present.  

I handed him his cooler and walked away.  And held back my tears.

Yesterday the Wildcat told me that in between games, one of his teammates said "Nathan, your mom must love you."

"Why's that?" he wondered.

"She always makes you a big lunch for your games."

"Ya.  She does."

Be still my heart....I do.

I'm adding this to my "Mama Bible":   
And this is how you will know thy mama's love for you:
 by the contents of thy lunchbox
Which overfloweth with Turkey and Cheese
PB & J
Fruit Snacks, Gatoraide 
All of that
and a bag of chips

 

New Role, New Student and Newly Signed

So there's alot going on behind the scenes here at Write-On, Mom!.

In the last few weeks, I signed on for some new responsibilities at work, I signed up for some new classes in college and.....I signed a contract to write a book.

Allow me to expand:

New Responsibilities:  No secret I am a licensed massage therapist practicing at the Wilton Chiropractic Clinic.  Recently our office manager retired.  I am not the new office manager.  But I am taking on some of her responsibilities alongside my massage work that I do there. 

New Classes:  I write for the QC Times.  And I love it.  I am not on staff but on a work-for-hire basis there.  Someday it would be great if I were on staff there.  I asked my editor a few questions and he let me know that even though I have the bylines, in 5 years if I want to contend with the others applying for staff positions, it would do me well to take some courses in multi-media journalism.  So I am.

Newly Signed:  Last week I signed a contract to write a book. 
I've been writing newspaper and magazine articles for years...and books that mostly exist in my head for years.  But this book isn't in my head....it's in someone elses!  I'm a ghostwriter.  I'll be putting pen to someone else's story. Sounds kinda creepy.  But I'm officially a "ghost." 

THIS IS A BIG DEAL to me. 

Dear Blog Readers,  You have told me time and time again that I put words to your emotions.  QC Times subjects have told me that I have put words to their thoughts.  And even people that I have taken sports and wedding photos for have told me how I have been able to capture their story. 



Now I will be capturing another's story...in. a. book.

Big deal to me. 

I feel like going out to buy a new backpack. 

My Son Still Wants to be Spider-man When He Grows Up

So the Wildcat still wants to be Spider-man when he grows up.

He's wanted to be this species of super-hero ever since he was like four.

This hasn't changed.

He still laughs in the face of danger, pretends to sling his web at people or situations that seem to warrent a good web-slinging, (sound effects and all) and insists that any bug bite, bruise or welt is a spider-bite intended to increase his super powers.

(I admit that I may have entertained this thought when undergoing a bone marrow biopsy a couple of years back....my bad)

The only thing that has changed is his age, size and voice.

He's 17, barely fits in his own bed, and when he says "mama, can you sing me 'sunshine'?" as a bedtime song, it sounds exactly the same except that his voice is like way, way lower.  And I can tell that he needs to shave.  

I love how some things never change. 

It's probably good that his 17-year-old Spider-man personality also sees fit to aspiring to be involved with the Senate, Congress, Education, Business, and Government.

Spid-ey characteristics probably would work well with any of these things....just not a BOX to check or MAJOR or MINOR or even a CERTIFICATE when planning a college career.

Perhaps that change is in the works.


But for now, since I haven't seen evidence of spidey-traits being publicly recognized....AND after talking with his sisters, it is clear that I need to talk to him about how pretend-web-slinging is not a good defensive driving technique.

Because not everyone understands and is ready for Spider-man to be driving his sisters to school.

(Or attending college.)


In case you were wondering what Spiderman looks like, here are a few then and now shots:

Christmas 2008

Jr. High Football

Reading Names of WWII Veterans at Memorial Day Services

Spidey with his mama.

And a word about childhood BFFs

It's May 18th.  I don't notice the date right off the bat. 

I notice that it is Sunday.

I'm having my coffee, watching the Food Network and browsing ads. 

But it just feels like something, something, about this date is not right.

Am I forgetting something? 

And then I see the date at the top of the paper. 

May 18, 2014.

It's Marnie's Birthday.  OF COURSE!

Marnie is my childhood "BFF."  Best friends forever. 

Or...as childhood goes, my very first BFF. 

But Marnie.

My very first BFF.  Slumber parties.  Trying to match clothes.  Nick-names.

It all comes back when I think of my very first Best Friend Forever. 

My 1st BFF is one of 4 sisters.  So slumber parties with just her actually looked more like a party with each sister inviting a friend to spend the night.

One of the sisters and her friends would lead "dance parties" when there was absolutely "NO NON-MOVEMENT ALLOWED."  If you had to pee, a witness had to be present to make sure your feet were still moving. 

I remember dancing the night away to Jessie's Girl.  It was a record.  Played over and over. 

"Haunted tours" were led and attended by many a sister-and-friends" in the dark.  We would hang on to a rope and be led around the house and outside the house, in the dark. 

Crushes were not only discussed, but prank called....during a time when there was no blocking your number, and 10 times out of 10, you would have to ask the parent answering the phone to speak with said crush. 

"Do you like 'so-and-so?' she wants to have your children.'"  Some times, some "friends" would not wait for the "crush" to get on the phone.  Parents were horrified.  Thank goodness for no "caller ID."  

My BFF and I really wanted to be blood sisters.  So did some of her sisters and friends.  But we were all afraid of blood and skin-pricking and all of that. 

So we became "fire-sisters." 

As I look back, I wonder how that is better.  A bunch of us standing around and joining our lit matches in "ceremony" does not actually sound safer. 

But so. very. 1980's', with a flair of "Stand by Me" and "The Sandlot." 


My childhood BFF moved away after middle school.  Probably 30 miles away.  Not a lot by today's standards.  You pretty much have to drive 30 miles or 30 minutes to get anywhere you wanna go.  

But during a time when 30 miles meant "long distance," "new school," and

...new BFFs. 

Facebook didn't exist.  Cell phones were actually carried around in their own bags and not a given for most families in Iowa.

30 years ago, 30 miles may as well have been a million.

But today, as I think about what is missing, 30 years feels like yesterday.

And yet I still feel connected.

A bond that was unique to childhood BFFs will always belong to childhood BFFs.  I know that today because I can't drink my coffee and read the paper without wondering...."is something missing?"

I'm thankful today for facebook, the world-wide-web, the community that can be created virtually. 

But I'm also thankful for the times when we were kids.  When every moment could not be captured by the lens of a camera, but only by the lens of the mind. A time that can not be recreated. 

A time when "fire sisters" was not a term relegated to pyromaniacs, but just friends who stood outside a stable wanting to have an official initiation into a club that could never again be recreated. 

A time for me, as mama, hope that my own kids will have with their own childhood BFFs.  Not one that was captured by camera, by status update, or by cellphone.

But a time that can only truly be remembered because of the heart.  

A bond between childhood BFFs. 

Movie-Screen Motherhood & Facebook Statuses

I'm not gonna lie.

If you are stopping by here to read my story, of motherhood, of the writing life, of whatever....I can only assume that you are related to me.

Or that you can relate to me.

And I mean no offense either way. But let's face it...my own story is not one that will make the movie screen.

I used to wish that it would.  That mamas everywhere would be just so interested in my motherhood story that they invite me to come, expenses paid, to visit with their group and want to buy my book.

And not to say that I wouldn't have a story to share in public or a book to sell....but I am a REAL mama.

I have REAL kids.

And our lives, as they are now, are not going to end up on a movie screen or some best-selling story. Not to say that they couldn't.  But that isn't our goal.


Allow me here...to transition this post to facebook statuses....

I have recently been "nominated" on FB to share my favorite bible verse...and why...twice.

So I did.  I picked a new one each time.  Not because I am wishy-washy in this type of thing....but it is honestly hard to pick a favorite bible verse for me.

That is only because I have had seasons of life where one just "fits."

But for the sake of the now and this post...I shared Matthew 25:40:

I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.

And I shared Psalm 107:2a:

Let the redeemed of the Lord say this....

 

Both verses speak to me.  In the same way that God sometimes uses nature to speak to some, or another person to speak to another....I'm not one to judge that sort of thing.

But God speaks to me through "story."

And these two verses remind me to share my story.  (Let the redeemed of the Lord "share their story")  And not in a way that means movie screens and manuscripts.  But for the ONES (whatever you did for "one....")

My story is Motherhood.  And I'm proud of that story.  God gave me this story.  And it isn't an easy one.

But I'm eternally grateful for the storyline. 

I supposed, as a writer, I am trained to look at each storyline differently.  And as a mama...that is the way it is supposed to be.

Each day is a new page to write on.

And each child has their own "book."

It is a privilege to be called to contribute to each page of each child, no matter how insignificant any particular page may appear at first. 

But I am getting to that stage of motherhood where all of those diaper changes, laundry issues, and chicken nugget lunches just feel different.

These are not the movie-screen-things you typically see in the life of "motherhood."

But they are real.

Real. Life.

And it does lead to somewhere.

That's why I love the bible verses I shared, I guess.

Can I rant in italics?

So my calling in life

thus far

to take care

and diaper, feed, raise you

to pray over and for you

to help you to find your own purpose.....

....has been my purpose.

I love my purpose.

But I know that my purpose will never actually

get me farther in the world

as far as profiting from it

in word

money

or byline recognition

(which is where I'm at right now)

.

But that is okay.

Because it doesn't matter to me if I 

"help"

anyone else 

if I cannot use my own storyline to 

be there for my own kids.

And 

to tell my own kids

that if their own 

"lines in a story"

that fill their own blank pages

doesn't sound interesting

Or

if the blank pages 

that are yours to fill

would be anything less that the

STORY

that you want to write

with your life

YOU

ARE

THE 

EDITOR

Storylines may change.

But you

fill the blank pages.

And

I

get to be a character 

in your story.

An honor.

A credit.

But not the storyline for you.....

....

...just me.

I really need to edit this post to make sure that it includes my kids that aren't really my kids.  I know that I am not qualified to be the "mama" character in your own stories.  But I am right there in your stories and I pray for you. I support you in ways that are unseen.  

And I will continue to do that.  

Because you deserve it and I am called to it.

YOU

TOO

are a part of 

my story

Because it's a Dream

I have dreams.  Lots of them. 

Some of them goals.  Things I am actively striving for. 

The steps may appear small, but this day (week/year)'s outcome is far more than it was a year ago. 

 And those are just my personal dreams and goals.  They are meant for later.  After the work I am doing now. 

And that work right now, quite honestly, means everything to me. 

They are not "ideas" I hope to build on for later. 

They are what my heart beats for right now.

Yesterday, I came face-to-face with what my work could lead to.  Deep down, it was emotional for me, it was something I just wanted to stop, and it included some hard conversations that I just did not want to have.

But the day happened.  So did some conversations.  And I realized, as hard as this is, it is something that I should be proud of.

Took the Wildcat on a college visit. 

The college is great.  It is the perfect fit for a university in the specific area and the things he is looking for in a college.

He wants to be in the political arena.  This college is in the same city as our state's capital.

He wants to incorporate actual class time and experience at the same place.  He gets that even in the first semester at this college.

So let's say he changes his mind in the first year.  So what...everyone does.  This college curriculum is set up for students to figure this out sooner rather than later.  

But let's say he doesn't.  Not only does he know what he thinks he knows....he actually knows more.

I'm gonna go with the idea that everything he has learned in every step of his life is leading him to this step in choosing a college major.  Without coercion, he wants to make a difference in the political arena. 

I've seen him.  I've seen what he does and what he loves.  I can make that observation better than anyone.

I've toured the college with him.

I experienced the sale's pitch.

And I followed up with questions.

So here we are with a goal.

On our ride home from the college we spoke of every good,every bright, every bad, every ugly thing.  

And we decided.  From here on out...on every college visit, we are aware of all that we like about this college.  Every other place will probably be held up to the plumb line set yesterday.  That is okay. 

We decided...that every scholarship application was no longer just a blind stab in the dark.  This was the goal the Wildcat is shooting for. 

That goal does have a dollar amount attached to it now.  That is okay.  Maybe that is better. 

But the goal involves even more than that. 

It involves a commitment.  Something we have talked about many times before now.  But now the end of "the now"(which is not the end...just a transition) has a name as well.

It's something I try hard to instill with all of my kids, but somehow it means more when you are in high school.

The speech goes something like this: 

So hey....where do you want to be a couple of years from now?  Or four?  
Here?  There?   In the capital building?  Married?  Thinking about getting married? 
All of that is great.  I see you there too.  
I can't control what you do.  
I used to.
I used to monitor every TV show you watched.  
I used to have to sign off on your homework every single night.
I used to show up in your classroom to volunteer and it was never seen as anything but 'ok.'
But you are  17. (or 15, 13, 11)
You pretty much do what you want to do (not completely, specially the youngers...but I only say that publicly because I know you are a good kid...)

So here's my advice:

Where do you see yourself?  

Two years?  Four Years?  even Ten Years?

Picture it.  All.  
 Not just professional, but personal, too.  

It's all probably a big dream.  
But now is the time to take steps towards those dreams.

I can't always tell you how to get there.

But I can tell you this:  

Take every choice to heart today.

When you are faced with a decision or choice,

Weigh it against your goals and dreams.

Is it a choice that could hinder any of that? 

Could that choice prohibit your goals/dreams?

Could it make any explanation awkward later in life? 

Then make your choice based on that.

Your dreams are big. 

So is your faith.

And so is my faith in both.

Make your decisions today based on your goals for tomorrow.  

Don't hope that you never have regrets...

Plan on not having them. 

God is who He says He is and can make good out of anything.

But you are smart and responsible and a leader.

That is your giftedness.

You are expected to use your giftedness.

And who am I?

Just mama...

So now we have a goal.  A place.  And a price.  

I'm trusting 

and doing everything I can to help make that dream come true.  

Because that is what mama does.  

...taking my responsibility seriously

in encouraging you in yours.

Your mama loves you

every step of the way. 

 

 

The In-Between

Yesterday was Good Friday.

A handful of years ago, I wrote about my take on Good Friday....and what's so good about it anyway.  Feel free to check that out HERE...

Tomorrow is Easter.

Today is the "in between."

I hate in between.

In between represents waiting.

In between means not knowing.

When someone says "I'm 'in between' jobs," it means they don't have one.  They used to.  And they hope to again.  They are waiting.  In between.

When someone says "I'm 'in between' a rock and a hard place," they are feeling stuck.  Trying to make a decision between two things; neither of which sound hopeful.

I am in an "in between" stage in life.  Not a rock-and-a-hard-place sort of thing.  And not an 'in between something I used to have and something I hope to.

Just in-between.

Kids are growing up.  They still need me as their mama.  Present and accounted for.  But not in the same way they needed me 5, 10 and 17 years ago.

And not the same way they will need me in another 5, 10 and 17 years.

I'm in an 'in between' state with my relationship.  Not married, but not just dating.  Not a bad thing, by any means...just 'in-between.'

I learned that I'm sort of 'in between' when it comes to my professional writing status.  I have the experience and bylines.  But not the degree.  I'm taking steps towards the latter while continuing with the former.  Not a bad place.  But still...in between.

Personally, I have hope for all of the areas that I am 'in between' in. 

And I am reminded of that today....the Saturday in between Good Friday and Easter Sunday.

Last night I watched the "Passion of the Christ" with Brian and his daughter.  It was horrific.  It brought to life the last 12 hours of Jesus' life.

There was nothing pastel or spring-like or warm and fuzzy about Mel Gibson's depiction.

It was a visual reminder of the evil that exists and the evil that Jesus took on.  For me.

I've seen this movie before.  And I've taken away different messages from it before.

But this time I was struck by something way different.

THE IN BETWEEN.

What must Mary have thought as she watched her son tortured?  Surely, as a mama, she thought she would never recover. 
What did the disciples think while they watched the one they followed die.
Surely everything they thought was going to happen didn't play out they way they envisioned...during the last 12 hours of Jesus' life.
Surely Peter, who denied Jesus 3 times when all of this was going on, was distraught and not sure if he could ever recover.  

Surely anyone who was there, who had witnessed Jesus say "it is finished," and then die, questioned whether or not there was any hope beyond that.

Especially the day after.

The day in between.  The day of darkness.  The day of no hope. 

The day in between what you have seen and what you don't yet know.

Fortunately,  the end of the story is so way far out there, way far better, and way far witnessed and true.

Jesus did conquer death.  And He did it the way it was prophesied.  As the temple that was rebuilt after being destroyed 3 days before.

I could elaborate on that.  Show scripture. Act spiritual.   Pretend that I understand way more than I do. 

Maybe another time.

Right now it is Saturday.

The day in between Good Friday and Easter Sunday.

For me as a christian, I can say I understand and believe the end of the story.  That's why we can call Good Friday, Good Friday.

For today....I understand the Saturday.

The in-between.

The part where everything looks dark, nothing is certain, and hope is something that just might have died a day ago.

I'll bet that others can relate to this in their own lives.

All I can say is that I know the end of the story.

I don't know how it will look here on earth.  I don't even know what we are having for Easter dinner tomorrow.

But I know that in the end of the "Easter Story," after Jesus is seen and he tells others in Mark 16:7 "but go, tell the disciples and tell Peter...."

Jesus wanted Peter to come.  To know.  That even though Peter denied Jesus, as was predicted, there is still hope.  Jesus is alive. And Peter is loved.  And wanted.  And not forgotten.  And specifically asked for.

I makes the whole "in between" thing okay for me.

Not 'cause I have all the answers.  And not because I want to answer for anyone else but myself.  And not because my answer is the same as yours, because you are a follower of Christ. 

But because Christ is who He said he was.  He did what He said He would do.  And He did and accomplished what was prophesied.  (journalist tend to look for facts over feelings)

There was an 'in between.'

And there is now.

I know where my "in between" is.....

and I know it won't be the same for you.

But no doubt you are in one.

And here is my *asterisk on this blogpost.....Do you have hope for whatever your tomorrows hold?

I'm here to tell you that it doesn't matter if you make tents (Peter), pump gas, give massages, write best-sellers.....

....whether you can see it today or not....

....there is a purpose, even in the in-betweens.