Tag Archives: childhood

A Tribute to My Hero…

Happy Birthday!

I’ve never really been one to use the phrase, “my hero is…” and couldn’t even fill in the blank that easily, if asked.  However, I’ve found myself thinking, time and again, in recent years, “Wow, he amazes me!”  The oldest of my offspring, that is.

Sparing the details, I will say this…if I were asked to choose a hero, I’d pick him.          

 *Hero–noun,  1.  a man of distinguished courage or ability, admired for his brave deeds and noble qualities.*

I have watched, quiet and helpless, as my son has worked, endured, persevered and thrived.  He has not only pressed on through situations that would have driven me to curl up with a blanket over my head, but he has come through with dignity and earned respect.  Most impressively, I have never, ever heard him complain.  My oldest boy has shown strength of mind, body and character that I can’t help but admire. 

He is strong with a strength I didn’t, and wouldn’t still, know he posessed had he not gone out and faced the world.  He has some stories to tell and I don’t know the half of it.  I feel sure God will use them, everyone, someday.     

It’s interesting, to say the least, watching our children become adults.  There are times when I look back on this boy’s raising and thank God he made it to adulthood, especially as the *unbeknownst-to-Momma* tales unfold around the dinner table.  “You what?!  When?!  Where was I?! Why on earth would you throw a match into a puddle of unknown liquid to see if it’s gasoline or water…inside the garage!?!  Have you no brain?!” 

All those years my Grandma use to say, “Lord, have mercy!” and  I thought it was a figure of speech.  I’ve learned otherwise.  It was a fervent prayer and I pray it often.  And you know what?  God answers it!

My little boy, now my big college boy, is all grown up.  That doesn’t mean he is fully mature.  I think he may never be.  Come to think of it, do boys ever really grow up…fully?  A part of me hopes not.  I love the funny, if pesky, side of my college boy.  He brings laughter and fun to our family, though it’s sometimes accompanied by sisters screaming his name.  While at school, he lives with his eighty-something year old grandma, by his own choosing and doesn’t have to be told to go to churchHe takes his little brother and sister to “do things” and kisses me goodbye when he leaves the house (though I do sometimes have to remind him).  He buys sterling and diamond-ish earrings for his sister’s birthday, endures American Idol while college basketball is on the other channel, and always chooses to see the best in people.       

I could write a book about my children’s shortcomings; they reflect my own.  But in spite of it all, God has turned my big boy into a *make-his-Momma-proud* young man.

  Happy Birthday, Sporty!  You are a hero in my eyes!     


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Snow Day!

Time flies.  Time stands still.  Both true.  Both false. 

Days passed at a crawl the week before our vacation.  Our week at the shore, however, was mere minutes.   Both were seven days.  Time stands still; time flies…or so it seems.

The reality is that the Creator of the Universe “changes time and seasons”  (Daniel 2:21), therefore we can be sure time is constant, consistent.  He gives us the exact same number of minutes every single day, without fail. 

Time is *flying* in my life right now.  Children are changing almost daily,  little girls have morphed into young ladies, mere babes threatening to graduate and go to college, and the firstborn keeps flitting in and out of the nest between semesters.  Meanwhile, we are going to basketball games, piano practice, recitals, basketball games, shopping for bigger shoes, parent meetings, home group, basketball games, shopping for longer jeans, having friends over, and going to basketball games.   Can it be, that in the midst of it all, I’m missing out on something? 

Getting to class on this icy day was not a hazard for us; it’s just down the  hall and through the doorway on the right.  But we took a *snow day* anyway.  We (I) need to slow down.  Sit.  Breathe.  Enjoy. 

This snow was the perfect reminder to be still, to appreciate the time He has given me today,  to take in these little chickadees.  


I love snow days.  I loved this day.

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Better than Roses!


I love flowers…but not on Valentine’s day!  Sometime in my mid to late twenties I realized that I don’t particularly enjoy predictable gifts.  

I love fresh flowers about, but I would prefer to pick them up while at the market (in my world, that would be the grocery store, cleverly named Marketstreet) or to have them brought home to me when I least expect them. 

I also don’t typically prefer prearranged bouquets…a bit too perfect, not relaxed.  They can be absolutely lovely, no question, and I understand why so many girls love them.  They’re just not my preference.  I’m weird that way.  

Tonight, my little buddy brought flowers home to me for Valentines. 

Oh my!  I LOVE them!  

He came up with the idea all on his own, painstakingly picked them out, and paid for them with his own money.  They were four dollars.  He told me. 

My middle girl told me how he looked and looked and looked and kept coming back to the same little bunch.  He loved them, but had concern that they weren’t “real colors”. 

He was right.  They’re daisies, three colors.  I think the pink, for sure, and maybe the violet, are dyed.  I don’t like dyed flowers, but these are absolutely PERFECT.   They are.

I was humbled this evening when my heart was so tugged.  I was reminded that, if the gift is from the heart of the giver, the gift is perfect.   Dyed flowers are precious, when your little boy picks them out…especially on Valentine’s Day. 

Every mom understands.  Two dozen perfect little rose buds can’t begin to compare with the dandelion carefully plucked from the yard by the chubby hands of a preschooler.  Nor can the most expensive of gifts compare with dyed flowers lovingly chosen by a little boy for his mom! 

My little buddy gave me a gift from the heart!  I love my Valentine flowers.  I love my little buddy! 


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Filed under Life as We Know It!, Out of the Mouths of Babes

Ballet and Worship

The ballet was beautiful and worshipful!  I’m so glad I went.  There was no other option, of course, and I’m thakful.  Ballet and worship music together is a rare and beautiful combination.  

Being in the audience of such a presentation can be a real act of worship if your heart is right.  There are all levels of performers and each has it’s own unique place in the worship experience. Our Little Miss was, naturally, in one of the lower levels and it was absolutely precious to watch those young children dance, moving their arms and bodies in praise to God!  Blessing! 


And after. 

Do not forget to bring flowers to the ballerina.  I have made this mistake before.  She was fine.  I was not.   I nearly forgot again, well actually I did forget again, but thankfully a friend pulled through and had her dear son run and get some just before the performance began.  Thank heaven for friends!

 Ballerina and Grampa

Next on my agenda is the challenge of transforming Little Miss ballerina into Mrs. Teatime (aka Mrs. Potts) for Beauty and the Beast…coming up next week in her drama class.  My heart rate just bumped up an notch or ten.

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Coastal Contentment: Just Me and the Sea

Sand.  Nothing more.  Nothing less.  Simplicity at it’s best.

She hasn’t a care in the world!   

This is why I love the coast so much.   The stresses of life give way to rest and peace of mind.  It is true that every time our family has been to the coast, we have been on vacation.  But what’s that got to do with it, anyway?  Just because we get to wake up to the sound of the sea every morning and have no place to be; and just because we get to stay in our jammy pants until we decide to walk down the wooden steps to the beach; and just because we get to linger there as long as our hearts desire; and just because there are no responsibilities or chores…

Ok, so maybe the “vacation” part does have a little something to do with it.  But in spite of that fact, there is no denying the allure of the coast.  It’s intoxicating and addicting, in a good way.  Majestic mountains compel me to stand in awe of the Creator;  the ocean, to bow in reverence for Him

  The seashore is a dear friend, whom this Texas gal sorely misses.  Who doesn’t love the coast?  I just can’t imagine!  I know, however, there are some more enchanted by land’s end than others.  I am grateful that my middle-most child is a kindred spirit in my coastal love.  We both miss, and long to visit, our dear friend, the sea!

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Steel Magnolias

Not so full bloom!

Not so full bloom!

If you’ve ever heard a magnolia bud hit a window, then you know how they came up with the saying, “steel magnolias”.   I heard one hit, then another, and another.  Bang!  Bam! Bam!  Dear Lord, what’s happening!?   Of course any mother’s instinct at the sound of  “gun shots”  is to seek out her chickens.  That’s when I found the “little angels” in the magnolia tree behind our house, along with half the neighborhood.  It was WAR!  And my magnolia buds were the ammo!  As I rounded the corner at the back of the house, I heard a whirling sound just before the hair over my right ear swished.  If they were trying to blow my brains out with that three and half inch steel bud, they missed it by that much!   


Lonely, but still lovely.

Lonely, but still lovely.

The ground was covered with my little magnolia embryos…my poor little flowers.   The tree bloomed a couple of weeks ago.   It looks a little naked, but the few blooms that were spared are impressive as always.  They’re the size of my face and oh so white.  I would love to see the tree covered in full bloom, but I couldn’t help but smile when I saw the naked tree and remembered the steel magnolia war.

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Sweet Sixteen!

We have a tradition (at our house, if you do something once and intend to do it again, it’s considered tradition)  of blessing our children on their 16th birthday.   

 Four years ago our son got to be first.  Poor guy, he’s always the guinea pig.  For his “Blessing”, we had a guest list that might be for his wedding.   His was a full fledged ceremony with guest speaker and all!   If not for the promise that food and basketball would follow the ceremony, our 16 year old son may have hopped a train to Memphis.   The gym and food saved the day.  The 8 foot banquet table was the hot spot with deli tray, rolls and sauces, fruit trays, veggies and dip, chips, desserts, bowls of Skittles and little candy bars, and assorted canned and bottled drinks.   A bit fussy, in hind sight, for a 16 year old boy, but I’d do it again in a heartbeat because… well, because I liked it and it got eaten.  But mostly because my Mother-in-love told me that I did a good job with the menu, a nice variety with something for everyone from 5-85.  And this woman knows, I tell you, she just does!

Four years later… it’s time again…

Sweet Sixteen!

Our little Morning Glory turns 16!   She is number two in the line up of five “little angels”.

Being older and wiser now, I tried to convince her that another mother/daughter trip might be fun…we did this on her 13th to discuss “facts of life”.   Only this time we could include her best friend, who also happens to be her sister.  This did cause pause for thought, but not for long.  She wanted a party!  (I’m not convinced that she wasn’t afraid of what she might learn this time if she were to take another “girl” trip…she was completely stunned the last time.)  So, I became the “event planner”, enlisted the daughter’s  help and started planning a Sweet Sixteen!  She had apparently taken notes, if not mentally, at her brother’s Blessing.  She did NOT want all the formalities, just the fun…go figure. 


She decided on a Nifty Fifties Blast From the Past…

at the Roller Rink

with CUPCAKES!  Thanks, Bakerella, for the idea!

Dad presented his girl with her purity ring from James Avery. 

This messed up my mascara.   

“From Baby Dolls to Basketballs”…the poem that  our friend, Brody, wrote and read for our girl at her Sweet Sixteen Blessing.

This was her favorite part of her evening…she’s a sap!

The evening wasn’t without it’s share of laughs and good times!

Surrounded by beaus…you better believe this girl’s Daddy was nigh!

Sunday, Monday, Happy Days…

claire's bday blessing 683

Tuesday, Wednesday, Happy Days…

It was a happy day, after all. 

Skating, pizza, cupcakes, a poem…what a blessing! 

And what better way to end a Nifty Fifties party…

than at the Drive In Movie Theatre!

Part of the fun of the Drive In is to arrive early, watch the sun set and visit with friends.  We usually take a picnic (or take-out), lawn chairs or blankets to sit on, and always a jacket.   West Texas evenings can get really cool when the sun goes down.  Then we tune in our radios and enjoy a double feature.

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