The Definition of You

You know sometimes when you say things to your children, and then after they go to bed and the house is real quiet, God tells you you made a big mistake? No? Well, it's not pretty, nor pleasant.

Yesterday and today were end of semester test days for both the punks. This school year has been hard for both of them...learning to adjust to Jr High and High School has not only been a social adjustment, but an academic adjustment too. They are both in harder classes, and honestly struggling to keep their head above water. They both have hours of homework most every day, and they have made good grades in spite of the difficulties.

Tonight we looked online at their test scores. Some were good, some not good. And to put it bluntly, I focused entirely on the "not good" and went in to my little rant about grades...again. Believe me, it's not a healthy rant. In my head, I intend to encourage to study more, try harder, do more. But when it's mixed with MY pride and MY expectations, it comes out like I'm telling them they're not good enough. And that's where He got me.

After the boys went to bed, I sat here at my desk trying to figure out ways to make it better...to fix it. And then He tapped me on the shoulder and with all the patience He has, gave me the most beautiful picture of grace. And it didn't look anything like me in that moment.

Knowing you need to make it right with your kids is hard. Saying I'm sorry is humbling. I went in to their bedrooms and knelt beside each of them and told them what amazing boys they are. That their grades do not define them. That I love them the same whether they make A's or F's. That the fact that they are mine is enough.

I thank God He does not count my worth as my ability to please people, or ability to do my job well. When He looks at me, I want Him to see someone trying to live a life that is pleasing to Him no matter how often I fail. And when I look at my boys, I don't want to cloud my view of their worth at how good they perform on manmade tests.

I want to see them as boys growing up to look like their Father who cares for others and not what others think.

It Was Almost Audible

In 4 days my family gets on a plane to end up in the capitol city of Tegucigalpa, Honduras. This has been in the works for eleven years. We just didn’t know it.

In 2000, Steve and I went on a cruise to celebrate our 5th wedding anniversary. The last port of call was in Roatan, Honduras. It was a beautiful sunny day as the boat pulled up to the dock in the crystal blue waters. We had arranged to go snorkeling that day in a private resort area. God obviously had a hand in the bus ride to the resort because as it turned out, the bus was overcrowded so Steve and I had to sit in the front seat next to the driver…giving us a full, unobstructed view of the sheer poverty present along those narrow streets through the city. It took my breath away. I guess it was the first time I had seen anything like that. If I’ve seen it before, I don’t remember.

We arrive at the resort and without hesitation, I can say that day stands out in my memory as the best day Steve and I have ever shared as husband and wife, besides the births of both of our punks. The sun was intoxicating, the water beyond refreshing, and the sights…the beautiful beach and the myriads of fish we saw underwater…just can’t be explained with mere words. We were miles away from the poverty and despair of the other side of Roatan.

As we ended the day and boarded the boat to leave Roatan, both Steve and I stood on the side of the boat…looking out at the city…unable to speak. Both of us had just experienced the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. Immense beauty and immense poverty. We couldn’t talk. We were both experiencing burden.

It’s so easy to come back to real life and forget what you see. Fortunately, God didn’t let us forget it. From that day, God has put Honduras in our path/eyesight many, many times. In fact, it became so obvious and for lack of a better word, “freaky”, I started making a list of all the times we heard stories about Honduras, met people from Honduras, heard about Honduras on the news, and watch people shop for their vacation home on House Hunters International in Honduras. I know it sounds hokey…and believe me we got to laughing about it, but I can’t explain it any other way than God wanted us to remember Honduras.

Steve responded to accidents at work with cars bearing Honduras license plates, he was listening to The Ticket radio one day and Gordo was talking about a missions trip his dad took to Honduras, we were watching the local news at night and they gave the weather and temperature for Honduras…twice. I’ve pulled up a website I’ve never visited before and there was a banner ad for trips to Honduras. I was pulling the back off of a piece of furniture in the boy’s room one day to fix it, and of course it said “Made in Honduras.”

I stopped making note of them in 2009, but from 2000 to 2009 God had shown us Honduras 23 times. I don’t know if that means anything to you, but to us…every time we turned around we were getting writing on the wall. It would have been easy for us to dismiss one or two sightings, but 23? Impossible.

While we haven’t felt any clear direction of what God wants to do through us in Honduras, we have felt burdened. In 2006, we started sponsoring a little girl named Anny through Compassion International in Honduras. It has been amazing to see her grow and thrive in the Compassion program. It’s a small sacrifice for us, but a huge opportunity for her.

So when people ask Why Honduras? I just tell them we are doing what we can to be obedient to what we hear and see. Doing what we can to make a difference in the world and open our eyes to the needs of others. Doing what we can to be a part of something bigger than ourselves.

In 4 days, we will hug Anny.
In 4 days, we will get to see where she lives, meet her family, and see where she learns about Jesus.
In 4 days, we will travel with an organization called Bread for a Hungry World to feed and love people who live in the city dump. Yes, you read right.
In 4 days, we will get to visit a daycare where Bread is already at work.
In 4 days, we will get to pour concrete, or build chicken coups, or lay flooring.
In 4 days, we will put words to work.
In 4 days, we will put love in action.

Back At It?

Today is Memorial Day 2011. We had nothing "planned" on the calendar. It was nice. Slept in. Went to wake up Caleb and had this conversation:

Me: "Caleb, I'm going to pick up Cody. While I'm gone get up and get ready so we can go eat lunch with Daddy. Do you know where your phone is?"

Caleb: "When you shoot, you get a phone."

Me: "Whaaaat?"

Caleb: "You shoot the basketball and get a phone."

Me: "Okay, where are you?"

Caleb: "On the basketball court."

Me: "Okay, when you get finished playing, wake up and get a shower."

This was a funny exchange since Caleb was obviously talking in his sleep. That boy is the hardest sleeper I've ever known.

He is still covered in bruises from the paintball games last Saturday. He's a tough cookie.

I can't believe he is graduating from 6th grade this week...and we will be done with elementary school in our lives. If I think too long about it, I cry so I've tried not to think about it too much.

Slow down tough boy...slow down.

Dear Cody & Caleb...

Dear Cody & Caleb,

A few days ago your dad and I celebrated our 15th year of being married to each other. As we told you in prayer time that night, it hasn't always been days of cupcakes and lollipops... a few days have been licorice...really black, nasty licorice. But I can tell you this... that we love each other more today than we did on that Labor Day weekend back in 1995. Lots of people say that, but it's really true. Looking back now, we barely knew each other. But God has been so good to us...and even though we've both made some pretty big mistakes, He's used them for good and brought us closer together. He's the yen to my yang (even though we aren't Chinese), and I'm the creamer in his coffee (even though he doesn't drink coffee). There have been lots of good and fun, and goofy times...and those are tucked away in my love memory bank.

I am thankful for your dad. From day one, he stepped up to his role of provider and protector masterfully. He is a hard worker, diligent in gaining favor with his employer because of his ethics and honesty at work, has a good reputation, is a loyal friend, is a good son and son-in-law, and a good brother and brother-in-law. I think his shining accomplishment so far has been his role of daddy...and you boys are so blessed to have him as your father. I love how he protects and nurtures you, but also how he gently nudges you to spread your wings to try new things and soar to new heights. He is a great picture of the way your Heavenly father loves you.

Tonight I am praying for your future wives. I'm hopeful that it's SEVERAL years away, but I already have a sweet picture of both of them in my thoughts. I pray that God is already molding them to be the helpers that you both need, and that most of all they are falling in love with Jesus more every day. I am praying that you will continue to grow and become great men who look a little bit like your dad, and a whole lot like your Father.

I love you,

Mama

Fourteen Days

Tomorrow it will be two weeks since I have slept in my big king size bed, worked in a one-person home office with nothing but the sound of iTunes or FoxNews in the background, gone to lunch with my sweet hubby and sat on the same side of the booth playing Words with Friends together, and kissed my two sweet punks before they went to bed. A long two weeks. It is true that the simple ‘tasks’ of life seem so much more precious when you don’t get to do them.

Fourteen days into the tour and I laugh about the list I actually wrote down of things I wanted to accomplish on this tour. Blog, work on getting pictures organized in my computer, take pictures of each new city, and other things I won’t even post because it seems so outlandishly ridiculous now that I’m sitting here fourteen days later with ONE blog post under my belt and literal days where I did not step one foot out of the venue in Different City, USA…much less take a picture. Where did the time go? Oh.my.gosh. Life on the road is so much different than what it looked like in my head…and what it looks like in yours.

Here are some observations from my first two weeks…

*There is NO private time…none…nada…zilch. MAYBE when you go to the toilet, but even then, you’re not guaranteed a private stall, or that the bus bathroom door does not open either by accident or on purpose while you’re sitting on the toilet. This is hard for a girl who likes her alone time.

*I can sleep on a moving vehicle. This is a shock to my husband I know…because of the fact that I don’t even like to let him drive when it’s raining because I need to feel in control of the vehicle. Baby…I have not once stayed up and sat next to the bus driver to make sure he doesn’t veer off the road or stop in time. Aren’t you proud of me?

*It is hard to accomplish even the smallest list of To-Do’s while sharing an office (and I use the word “office” very loosely) with 6-7 other people…and a host of other people coming in and out of the “office” all day long for various reasons. Although difficult to get things accomplished, this has become one of my favorite things and something I discovered I miss about working in an office with other humans.

*Although the artists do get some down time during the day working around interviews, sound checks, etc., the crew and production staff literally work from the time the buses roll into the venue in the morning until they roll out of the venue at night. I’m not saying they are rolling steel all day or performing surgery, but still available all day long...usually 7 or 8 a.m. until midnight. These are long days people.

*The dressing rooms at the venues are always a surprise as to how clean or dirty they will be. One of the crew guys made the joke by saying that as soon as you even walk into the arena at Billings, you instantly contract syphilis. After seeing that girls dressing room/shower area, I’m not sure he’s much off. Two words…shower shoes. Need I say more?

*My food schedule is wacky. I don’t usually eat breakfast…which is okay for me. Then I eat lunch in catering around noon or 12:30. Dinner is served from 5 to around 6:30, but I start my evening responsibilities at open doors, so I cannot eat dinner then. Which means I’m eating dinner at midnight usually with after-show food. That in itself could pose lots of issues…but thankfully it’s been okay.

*I’ve already seen someone in their underwear…but I won’t tell who. Our bus is the bus with girls on it so people are used to not being undressed on that bus. But sometimes I have to go to the MercyMe bus for things, so I always yell “girl on the bus” when I get on…but evidently I didn’t yell loud enough one time. Let’s just say…it brings workplace unity to a whole ‘nother level.

*Some of the most fun I’ve had is at night when we get on the bus to leave for our next city. I am sharing a bus with eleven other people consisting of Stacie, a pretty, young girl from Franklin, TN. who coordinates the VIP’s for the shows; Kyle, a young geek from Sacramento, CA who helps with getting the show online every night for viewers at home to watch; Francesca Battistelli, and her drummer hubby (who are newlyweds), and their crew of two; and Fee Band which is Steve Fee and three band members and their crew. It is a great mix of people…and some super nice and funny guys. We usually sit around in the front lounge until around 2 or later…until we can’t keep our eyes open…just talking, laughing, and eating (those guys are constantly looking for food to eat).

*Days off are a welcome break from work…and usually the only time I get to see the cities. I’ve enjoyed getting to see some of Casper WY, Spokane WA, Ashland OR, and today, Sacramento CA. It’s been so wonderful to step off the bus and see mountains, or look out my hotel window and see a river in the middle of a forest area. It just reminds me of how creative our God is, and how very, very blessed I am.

*I feel very blessed to be a part of the ministry of the Roadshow. Like someone mentioned on Sunday during our “church”, we tend to count the success of the show by how many people came, or how much merch was sold, but the stories of the people who came and were blessed, or hear how their lives were changed by what they heard… that’s the true success of the Roadshow…and I love that God is right in the middle of it all.

*I miss my friends. I miss my shower. I miss my mom and dad, and sisters…and nieces and nephews. I miss my Abby. I miss my sweet punks…and I miss my Mr. McWonderful. ‘Missing’ is undoubtedly the hardest thing about what I’m doing. In the words of TobyMac, “baby hold on…just another day or two…” And that’s what I’m doing…holding on until I get a few days closer to holding all three of my babies.

I Thought Twice...and I Did it Anyway

**Update: I tried to add pictures to this post until today and could not...so I'm posting anyway. Hopefully I'll get some pictures to work later.

Today was day one of my big adventure. About 6 weeks ago, it was decided that I would go on The Rock & Worship Roadshow as Tour Accountant. Even though I have worked for MercyMe for about six years now, I have never been out on the road with them, and this was a great opportunity for me to know “that” side of what I do from my home office every day. And since the Roadshow is only in its second year of existence, it was a good time for me to go and establish some organization to the accounting side of the tour. Right up my alley since my middle name is organization…or Denise…or whatever.

I immediately started planning for this awesome opportunity by…what else, buying some new jeans and a pair of Converse. For the past several weeks I’ve been going back and forth in my head…I’m excited about this opportunity…what the heck do I think I’m doing?…it could be fun…that’s a long time to be away from home…I’ll get to be in alot of places I’ve never been…Gina, you’re 46, you do not need to be sleeping on a bus! So it’s been like that for a while. And here I am…46 years old, living on a bus (a nice bus), going through 24 different states in 6 weeks…and getting to play a part in a great ministry!

I want to document my experience, especially for my kiddos to enjoy reading what I’m doing every day. Today was Day 2 of rehearsals for the 7 different bands that are out on this tour. I flew to Nashville with the MercyMe guys and arrived about 2:00 today. Most of you know…flying…not my most favorite thing to do, but I was prayed up and had lots of people who “know” me praying too. It was a great flight…uneventful, but I have to say I am paranoid about people and behaviors on planes. I sat next to some French people, who were quite pleasant, and spoke mostly in French. I guess there were quite a few of them who knew each other on the plane, and they kept getting out of their seats going and talking with each other. I wanted to scream at them that “the Fasten Seatsbelts sign is on for a reason people!!”, but I managed to refrain from yelling on the airplane…for the sake of being labeled as the crazy lady on Aisle 23.

We arrived in Nashville and went straight to the rehearsal warehouse. Here’s where the horror stories I’ve heard from the crew start coming to life…as far as the cleanliness of the facilities go. Let me just say…the bathrooms…not pleasant. I’m caught up on my shots though…so I think I’m good. I worked most of the day while listening to rehearsals…love to work during the creative process!

The buses pulled out of Nashville at midnight, and here I am. Trying to walk straight on a moving vehicle…trying not to think about whether I’ll be able to sleep on a moving vehicle. I’m pretty tired, so I’m not too worried.

I’m missing my Mr. McWonderful tonight and my sweet punks. They are away on a little vacation too…mountain biking in different scenery…and they are so excited. When we decided to do away with our home phone, and decided to add Caleb on to our mobile account...I never knew it would bring me to tears.

Tomorrow morning I wake up in Indianapolis, IN. for the first show of the tour. There’s excitement in the air with a new tour starting. Praying for God to show up at each and every arena…and that He’ll be glorified in everything that happens.

P.S. Francesca Battistelli is on my bus right now.

P.S.S. David Crowder is much taller in person than he looks in pictures.

P.S.S.S. The MercyMe band guys told me there would be days on this tour when I wouldn’t take a shower or want to change clothes. I hope to prove them wrong.

P.S.S.S.S. I hope I don't fall out of my bunk tonight.

Quotes of the Week

Last Saturday night we were spending some time together all piled up in our bed getting ready for bedtime prayers. Lately during our nighttime prayers with the punks, we have been choosing one specific thing to pray for. This helps them really focus on what they're praying about and keeps them from praying the same prayer over and over...the one that rolled off their tongue in memorized form and if they got out of order they had to start over?.... yeah, that prayer.

Anyway, that night we were specifically praying about something that might be happening in the near future that would entail some time away from home for me. There hasn't been a definite decision about it yet, so we were praying that God will work out all the details if He wants it to happen.

Caleb's prayer was that if I go, I would be safe. Of. Course. Because Caleb is soooooo my son, and he definitely has alot of my characteristics, and that's one thing I pray about alot too. Anyway, Mr. McRecognize.that.someone.might.be.anxious thought it would be fun to play a game of competition between the punks naming stories in the Bible where God miraculously saved someone's life or kept them safe. Do you see how brilliant this man is? I heart him.

So Caleb started and named I think Jonah and the whale. Then Cody went and named Daniel in the lions den. They went back and forth each getting a count to twenty to name the next one. Pretty easy at first, but getting more difficult with each passing turn.

And with that introduction, I give you "Quotes of the Week:"

With his chest puffed out at his turn, Cody proclaimed "Meshach, Reshack and Abednego."

At one point when his time was quickly running out, Caleb exclaimed "the crossing of that sea! What color was it?!"

Cody, impatiently waiting his turn while Caleb is thinking of his answer: "Ohhh! I've got two! Holy crap I'm good."

Run as Fast as You Can

If you read my last post you read that God has been working in Steve's and my heart about a country that He keeps putting in our path. I have a story to share about that, but it's still being written. One day I was doing some research...searching out mission organizations that reach out to that country and I was led to Buckner International. I hadn't heard about or thought of Buckner in many years, but I did know the name. When I was little, I remember, although with very little clarity, that my parents 'adopted' a teenage girl named Julie from Buckner. From what I remember, we only had her on weekends because she went to school either at or near Buckner, but I vividly remember the old red brick building.

Anyway, poking around on Buckner's website, I found one of their ministries called Shoes for Orphan Souls (SOS). The more I read, the more I was interested...especially since they minister to the country that holds a piece of my heart. I told Steve about it and he fell in love with it too...enough that he has spent many hours volunteering there in the last several months on his days off.

This past Saturday a group of people we share Sunday morning small group with went with our families to SOS to volunteer. We were excited to finally be able to take the boys this time... except that Caleb ended up being sick so he couldn't go.

This place melts me. I'm not gonna lie. It's just shoes...boxes and boxes full of shoes. Athletic shoes, boots, sandles and more placed in large box bins lined along the walls of a warehouse.

But when I pick up a pair of shoes and think of the child who's going to receive that pair of shoes, I melt and realize it's not just shoes.

"According to The State of the World's Children as reported by Unicef, there are 148 million orphans around the world. Orphanages do not receive enough funding to support the children in their care. One of the greatest and most immediate needs is a pair of shoes. Many of the children receive one pair of shoes to last the entire year, and some don't have shoes at all." Shoes for Orphan Souls collects shoes, sorts them, and then distributes them to children in need in 68 countries all over the world. I love the simple, yet gigantic measure. Shoes can give a child hope and a smile.

As I volunteered to pack boxes full of athletic shoes to prepare for shipping, I, of course, gravitated towards the boys shoes.

And as I held a pair of size 3 running shoes in my hands, I couldn't help but think about the little boy who would open up his dirty little hands to receive this pair of shoes...hurriedly put them on his dusty little feet and look up with the biggest smile on his sweet little face. I can imagine that he will run and play for hours on end...possibly days on end...just soaking up the feeling of how fast he can run. And he will have hope...and a smile.

And what it did for this boy? Well, I can only hope it gave him a small reason to be thankful and to fall in love with helping others a little more.

This will move you.

This is Me Not Planning

Oh sweet internet, I have missed you. Here it is the 12th day of 2010...a new year, and I haven’t seen you in many months. Well that’s not totally true. I haven’t seen MY blog in many months...I have seen plenty of others. And honestly, I don't feel ready to write today because I feel like I need to close out 2009 first before I can begin 2010 (could that be the accounting brain of mine?). I didn’t finish 2009...and I had so many other stories I wanted to tell and so many more pictures I wanted to share. But I guess I let my perfectionism get in the way of the true enjoyment of just sitting down and writing. I wanted all the stories to be in chronological order...and so I kept putting off writing a new story because I hadn’t written the old. I’m guessing this is why many people stop blogging all together. They pause...and then get overwhelmed at the need for orderly succession. I’m that kind of person. I’m stepping off the ledge here people...trying to be more spontaneous.

So first let me start with...Hi, my name is Gina. And I am a perfectionist and an orderly person. I like spreadsheets and check-off lists (this is where you say in unison “Welcome, Gina”). Today, I will start writing again and not even apologize for the fact that I didn’t finish blogging about 2009. I will write what I feel and post pictures of my punks doing and saying crazy things...and be okay with the missing data. (I think I just threw up a little bit in my mouth.)

A new year always brings with it a review of the old year...what hurt, what made me happy, what I wish I could take back, and what I wish I would have done a couple more times. And then there’s the Resolutions...that will inevitably get broken by Day 2...usually. It seemed like January 1st came and went so fast this year that I didn’t even consider making any Resolutions...just as well. They would have just forced me to make yet another checklist of things I am currently working on, and things that I need to do in the future. Another checklist to check things off of. {Sigh.}

I know God made me the way I am, but I also know that satan can use perfectionism to keep me from taking risks, dreaming dreams and doing hard things simply because I get bogged down with the details...the planning...the totally leaving God out of the picture. And just like every other year, I want 2010 to be a year of stepping out of my comfort zone...off the ledge, and for me to look more like Him at the end.

Our family is planning a trip this year as an exploratory trip...to find out how God wants to use us. As of right now, we do not have a date, reservations, airplane tickets, or even a specific destination city. We just know we’re supposed to go. We have no idea what God is going to show us when we get there. I’m a little afraid. Scared of what He may be calling us to do. I’m also scared not to go because God is stirring my heart so much for this place. I don’t want to end up one day with the regret of not obeying God and missing all the blessings He has for us.

And I don’t want to live my life just checking things off a list. I want to be fearless, brave and excited to face the unknown. I feel like I should be wearing a cape right now. And maybe a cute pair of boots.

“This is God's Message, the God who made earth, made it livable and lasting, known everywhere as God: Call to me and I will answer you. I'll tell you marvelous and wondrous things that you could never figure out on your own.” Jeremiah 33:2-3

Happy 50th Anniversary

Today is my parents' 50th wedding anniversary...September 25, 1959. I don't know if you grasp the colossal feat that is these days...but that just doesn't happen much anymore. Thank you mom and dad for putting up with each other, for putting the other one ahead of yourself, for sacrificing for each other, for loving each other...and for commitment. Commitment even when you were unlovely...commitment even when it didn't seem worth it...commitment even when the odds were stacked against you.

A few things you might not know about my parents:

*Both of their dads had to go with them to get their marriage license because they were both underage...but NOT pregnant.

*Mom originally wanted 12 children. I thank you Daddy for putting your foot down on that one.

*Dad burned the end of my mom's nose with the push-in cigarette lighter while on a date.

*They went to the thriving resort at Turner Falls for their honeymoon.

*They have lived in 15 houses/apts. in their 50 years of marriage.

We celebrated their anniversary on a cruise a few weeks ago, and we will be celebrating again in a few weeks at a party. They are celebrating today by themselves in Galveston...enjoying each other's company just like they have for 50 years. They not only love each other, but they like each other...and that may just be the key.

Mom and Dad, I love you...and I thank you for giving me and my sisters a stable home life...and for never making us wonder if you'd be together forever. I'd really love it if you'd go another 50.

We've Reached a New Low

Excuse me while I get on my soap box, but I really need to get something off my chest…and since it is my blog, I think I’ll do it here. If you don’t want to hear the rant…it’d be best to move on now.

Since when did coaches become so “win at all cost?” I’m really, really sick to death of it.

Caleb is playing football for the Optimists this year. There were no open spots on the team where most of his friends from school play on, so I just signed him up and they placed him on a team that needed more players. Fine…I have no problem with him meeting new kids, us meeting new adults, etc. Everything seemed well organized…we were enjoying the practices…Caleb is loving playing…so everything was going well until…at last Saturday’s game, Steve was asked to be a monitor which is basically someone who counts plays. You see in Optimist rules, every player must play at least 9 plays each half. So basically you have 2 guys for each team…one calling out numbers, the other circling plays so that each player can get their allotted plays in. This is done so that every kid can get playing time and learn the game…RIGHT? I mean that’s why I signed Caleb up for football…he wanted to play, he wanted to learn how, and the coaches sign up to teach them, right? No…wrong. I realize I am generalizing to the inth degree and that there are a lot of good coaches out there, but sadly, this is not our first experience with it…and I’m just ticked that ELEMENTARY sports has come to this.

So Steve was doing his thing last Saturday…circling plays while the other guy with him is calling out jersey numbers. Steve is keeping the coach informed of what players still need to get in plays all during the half…but the coach is not putting in those players. And because 7 players did not get in enough plays during the first half, those players got to play the entire second half…it’s the rules. I’m glad…because you know what? Those parents…the parents of the 7 players? They paid the same amount of registration fee, bought the same uniforms, have sweated their butts off at the same practices, and purchased spirit wear…just like the coaches’ sons…and just like the coaches’ friends’ sons who have played every play. And do you know what else? Those kids…those 7 kids? They all have the desire to play…they want to play, they want to learn, they want their parents to see them run with the ball or tackle another player. Most of them don’t care if they win or lose…they just want to play and have fun.

This coach had the audacity to come up to Steve after the game and say “hey man, sometimes you just have to circle some numbers whether they play or not. Everyone does it. It’s okay.” Oh, you mean, everyone cheats so that the favored players can play as much as the coaches want them to and so it will stop being about learning a game and having fun, but it all becomes about winning at all cost? You mean that? First of all, he is seriously barking up the wrong tree if he thinks Steve would ever do that. I’m surprised Steve was able to keep his composure and walk away from the man. I’m actually surprised the man still has eyebrows after the look Steve game him. Needless to say, I’m sure Steve will never be asked to monitor a game again.

Please tell me that our society hasn’t come to this…that winning is more important than having fun with other kids playing a fun game. I’m not talking about not keeping score…I totally agree with keeping score and kids having to learn how to win and lose. That’s not it. And I am not talking about sports in upper grades like High School and College. I don’t have a problem with that being about a kid’s ability, or lack thereof because there are scholarships being handed out for that. But people, I am talking about elementary kids…6, 7, 8, 10 years old!

Most parents put their kids in sports to learn…learn the game, the rules, strategies, sportsmanship, winning and losing…and most parents desperately want their kids to have fun and get some exercise. There is nothing better than seeing a kid beaming about the catch he just made…or the tackle…or the ball he just hit…or the homerun he just made. And when you’re a grown up, you really don’t think back about your sports experience in elementary and think “we were top dog” or “we beat every team.” Because at that point, NO ONE REALLY CARES if you won every one of your elementary games…seriously (sorry to shout, but it's true). You know what you remember? How much fun you had playing with your friends. Throwing the ball around to each other…tackling each other…sharing bubble gum and peanuts with your teammates, making goofy faces for pictures, and having snacks after the game.

I played softball and basketball when I was in elementary school. I can honestly say when I think about those days, I couldn’t tell you how many games we won. We were the Cottontails (the mighty, mighty Cottontails)and as you can tell by the name, we were good and we won plenty…but I didn’t keep count. And the trophies? They’re dusty and dirty and in a rubbermaid container high on a shelf in a storage shed. But I do remember I played with some of my best friends and we had so much fun in the dugout and on the bench…and playing around at practice…and going to get ice cream with everyone after a game. I remember crying after losing a softball tournament we were so close in winning…but the tears stopped soon after when I got to spend the night with one of my friends from the team.

When I see what I see these days, I think it really matters more to the testosterone-driven coaches than the players whether they win or not…because they make decisions based on what they think will make the team win at all costs. I love to win as much as the next person, but not at the cost of cheating a player out of their plays, at the cost of a kid feeling inadequate…at the cost of a kid’s self-esteem. Because that hurts...it really hurts.

“A Coach's Guide to Developing Self-Esteem”…Individual and team performance is directly related to how an athlete feels about him/herself. Your athletes will learn faster, perform better and have fewer performance problems when you help them feel good about themselves. (competitiveedge.com)

Wow, thank you. I feel much better after getting that off my chest.

9/11: Remembering

Yesterday I was a complete emotional wreck all day. I'm sure most of this was attributed to the fact that we had just returned from an amazing, completely exhilerating cruise to celebrate my mom and dad's 50th wedding anniversary... with all of my family and lots of friends. I was exhausted and a little disappointed to have to come back to the real world... but it was more than that. It was raining most of the day which didn't help the mood...but even more than that. There was a black cloud in my spirit that I couldn't shake...and I finally realized that it was due in large part to remembering 9/11 eight years ago. It still feels so raw to me...even though I lost no one I knew that day. It was just such a sad day for our country.


Eight years ago on 9/11, Steve and I woke up so excited for the day. This day we were closing on our first home...a house we had been waiting on for several months while they finished the construction.

We had a couple of errands to run before our 10 a.m. closing time and we were eager to get going. The boys were 2 and 4, so we were dropping them at their mother's day out program before running our errands so they could play. Since our current house was packed and the refrigerator empty, we ran by Kroger to get some lunchables for them. Steve went in the store while I waited in the car with the boys, and I will never forget the look on his face when he returned to the car. While in the store, everyone was huddled around a TV watching the terror unfold. At that time, only one tower had been hit.

He left the radio on while he whispered to me what was happening and I remember the pit in my stomach as he told me what he had seen. As we drove the boys to their center, I went back and forth as to whether or not I wanted them away from me that day. I finally decided that I would rather them be there playing...away from the news and media, and so we dropped them off...gave them kisses and hugs and headed straight to a store with televisions where we could watch the story. As we stood with hundreds of other people staring at another plane hit the second tower, we knew America would never be the same again...we would never be the same again.

We finally had to leave for our closing and felt such bittersweet feelings as we signed the papers. Joy at having a new home for our family, and yet complete and utter sorrow at so many people in our nation losing loved ones. While I wanted to stay glued to the TV all day, we couldn't...which was probably one of the best things that could have happened as I look back. We had furniture being delivered at the new house, and we had to meet people at our old house to begin moving stuff.

I will forever be grateful to many friends who no doubt would have rather been with their families that day but instead came to help us move. And that evening, others, who we didn't know that well, came to help us unpack boxes and organize. A friendship bloomed and they remain some of our best friends to this day. Our kids played together, running and jumping in empty bedrooms, and remained oblivious to the sad events of the day...and we unpacked boxes, stopping to cry every once in a while.


Yesterday, while I watched recaps of the day eight years ago, I again felt the sadness of so many women and men becoming widows and widowers, and so many children losing a parent. And my heart was broken. And yet today I woke up with a renewed thankfulness for family, country, friends and the fact that God is still in control.

Because That's the Kind of Friend I Am

Since I will be out of 'pocket' the next several days doing things that I most assuredly will tell you all about upon my return...I thought you deserved something to look at while you're here.

This is what happens when the punks both sign up to learn instruments the same year. You're welcome.

First Day of School 2009

Today was the first day of school...a day that marks the end of sleeping in, riding roller coasters, riding bikes, and playing in the water for a while. And every year when this day arrives, I'm amazed at how fast the summer went...and how fast my babies are growing up.

The night before always brings a flood of memories washing over me. As I playfully tousled their hair and brushed the bridge of their noses with my finger, I wondered when their baby face became so defined. I wondered when their arms became so muscular and hands became so strong. I wondered when I went from playing 'this little piggy' with their toes to their feet growing to be so big. I remember watching their eager eyes as they listened to the lyrical rhythm of me reading Goodnight Moon time and time again.

And as I leaned in to kiss them goodnight, they were in kindergarten all over again...waiting for butterfly kisses and bedtime prayers. Waiting for dreams of dinosaurs and red wagons. And I... I was savoring this moment...treasuring this memory.

As my strong, handsome boys left for Jr. High and 5th grade this morning, I swallowed hard and thanked God for every new day He's given me with them.

Goodnight stars, goodnight air, goodnight noises everywhere.

Last Ditch Vacation

Since we have plans for a big "family" celebration vacation later this year, we decided to take a short vacation with just the punks this past week to San Antonio...one of our favorite places to visit. We decided to make use of our Six Flags season passes and make that our main activity while there.

Just like when I was a kid, our boys really like hotels. We probably could have gone across town to a hotel with a pool...and they would have loved it just as well. We made good use of the pool within an hour of our arrival.

I love watching the punks play in a pool...with everything they have. They seriously love water! I also like to (and this may sound totally creepy, but not intended to in the least) watch their bodies as they swim. They are so unique...and I love noticing the differences in their body structure as they grow and develop. They are beautiful to me.

All boy...and yet stunning...

Every little feature screams "I am fearfully and wonderfully made." And I couldn't help but notice how Steve and I share our eyes with each one of them...the green eyed pair...

and the blue eyed beauties...

We're pretty happy to be their parents...and downright giddy to be away on a little vacation with some of the funnest people we know.

After swimming, we went down to the Riverwalk.

...ate some great mexican food...

did some sightseeing...

...and of course, we had to at least drive by it...

Then back to the hotel for um...play. Seriously one of the reasons the boys love hotels is because I let them jump on the hotel beds...and one of their favorite things to do since they were little boys is jump from one bed to the next seeing how high they can jump.

And of course there's the wrestling.... Like I said...all boy.

Monday morning we got up and went to Six Flags.

I used to love roller coasters when I was a little girl...and even into my twenties. Somehow with age, my body has not followed my heart and I don't handle the coasters too well. I was bound and determined that I would ride some coasters with the boys...part of their enjoyment is seeing me scared and hearing me scream (sounds sadistic, but they love it)...and I wanted to experience it with them. After dry heaving after the first three rides, I decided to just be the photographer for the rest of the day.

This was the boys' favorite ride...Superman. They rode it a total of 9 times over the course of the two days we were there.

I opted out of this ride...for obvious reasons...

Another favorite was Scream...again opting out. Caleb was sure to remind me that this was the same ride where the girl got her feet cut off in Ken-tuc-kee when one of the cables snapped. Thanks son.

Back again on Tuesday...more rollercoasters until the water park opened at noon...

We all rode this together...and although I had trouble getting started, I "beat" because I went the farthest...shocker, I know.

All I could think when I saw this was...wow, imagine how much pee is in there.

I rode this too. The boys tricked me into this...saying it was really a mild ride and that the intertube didn't go very high up on the sides. Uh...wrong. I saw my life flash before my eyes...up on the left....on up on the right...and up on the left...you get it. After I was able to swallow again, I realized that was one of the best feelings I had had in long time.

That night we ate mexican again...shocking again I know. They had a mariachi band that was pretty good...

...and a really weird Davy Crockett mannequin playing the fiddle on top of a replica Alamo wall. I would love to have been in the restaurant planning meeting that day.

Wednesday morning the boys got to do what they wanted to do from the first day at the hotel...use the luggage cart. I'm telling you...they are easily amused.

Before heading home, we went to the Alamodome and watched the Cowgirls in training camp.

We came home...closer as a family and feeling blessed we were able to enjoy so many fun things together...making memories to last a lifetime.

Ahhhh, summer...you never hang around long enough.