Tag Archives: Family

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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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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Black Coffee in Bed

Tanner to Concordia 028 

Lib is my mother-in-law love (she’s always introduced me as her “daughter-in-love”, I’ve grown to appreciate this).   When we stay with Lib she gives up her king sized comfort, complete with down covers and mounds of pillows,  to the Captain and me.   In the morning, she comes in with a mug of steaming hot coffeeWhat’s not to love about this?   

Well, first of all, this coffee comes while I’m still in the “drool” state of sleep.  Second, the sun is not yet even  peeking over the horizon and the coffee is black…I take my half and half  and sugar with a splash of coffee, thank you!  Now, years ago this would have annoyed me.  I wasn’t ready to wake up, I didn’t like black coffee (or any coffee at that hour) and it was an invasion of personal space…did I mention the drool? 

I still don’t care much for black coffee (unless it’s sitting beside a rich and delicious dessert).  I still prefer to get up a bit after the sun, especially on weekends.  And I would still rather not have anyone see me sleeping with my mouth open.   One thing has changed, howeverI appreciate black coffee in bed when I’m at Lib’s house.  If I actually sit up, wipe the drool, rub the eyes, wake up a bit and sip the coffee, I realize it’s not so bad.  My mother-in-love has been known to lay a robe across the foot of the bed and leave me with an invitation to join her on the deck.    Lib’s back garden is her prize and that is where we meet.  I’m met with great reward…the cool of the morning, bird song, dew.  Dew?  I love dew!  I had forgotten about dew!   Yes, I’m up when there’s still dew on the ground (sometimes), but I don’t see it.  I’m busy starting the day and the coffee, inside.  But the best part of  watching the sunrise with Lib is the company… quiet conversation with a Southern Belle who has the eyes of a child and eighty something years of  life experience.  What a lady! 

   I have learned that I do love the very early morning, but I must be honest, I have only seen a handful of sunrises.  I just don’t have the will power to get myself out there to enjoy sun-up without a little (ok…a lot of) prodding.  And black coffee in bed doesn’t hurt either!

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