Friday, March 25, 2016

The Beautiful Sounds From My Teen


First day of baseball practice for Collin.  He's a novice, but having fun.


Connor is all about friends on the weekend.  If we don't have them at our house, we don't see him much:)


As a true test of friendship, my (die-hard) UK fan/friend Gwen and I watched the IU/Kentucky game.    


Caleb performed with the Butler Youth Jazz Band at the Jazz Kitchen.




It's funny, when your child is performing at a jazz bar in a trendy section of town, relatives and friends don't seem to mind coming to watch.  From experience, I know they are not as eager to sit sidelines along a freezing soccer field or never-ending swim meet:)  Grateful for Caleb's personal cheering section!

When my sons were little, it seemed like I had absolutely no time to myself.  But, there were nap times and early, regular bedtimes.  And during those pockets of time, I found moments to blog.

Now that I have sons in their tweens and teens, time seems even more squeezed.  The hours after school are jam packed with homework, dinner, and practices (and yes, showers too!).  By the time the last son is finally tucked into bed, I'm heading in that direction too.

I miss the evenings where I would nestle up to my computer and write about the day.  But, I know there are seasons for everything.

Enough excuses.

The highlight of the last several weeks was Caleb's first jazz concert with the Butler Youth Jazz Band.  My mom reminded me of his first preschool concert.  His class stood on the stage in the sanctuary of the Presbyterian Church to perform for a sea of beaming parents.  Caleb, however, crunched down in his spot and sobbed.  I was mortified and sure I had a son destined to shy away from the spotlight.

Fast forward a decade and Caleb is standing on the stage in front of a packed restaurant.  He's proudly belting out a solo on his trumpet.  He smiles at his own personal cheer section when he completes his music.

I smile back.  

I am grateful for his beautiful music, but more grateful for how far he's come.


Thursday, March 10, 2016

Sick Kid At Church

Sweet son recovering on the couch.

On Sunday morning, we engaged in our normal pre-church frenzy.  The boys rushed (and some lagged) around pulling on khakis and fussing with "church shirts."  I noticed Collin seemed more somber.     He barely touched his breakfast.  But in my own morning haste, I didn't stop to inquire about Collin's strange mood.

On the way to church, Collin sputtered, "My tummy hurts; I feel sick."

Having a child tell me he doesn't feel right is practically a daily occurrence, especially when he is traveling to an activity that may seem less than appealing.

I tried to talk him out of it.

"You look great," I chirped.

But, I couldn't deny that Collin looked a little pasty.

When we arrived at church, I glanced next to my driver seat at the Sunday paper wrapped in a plastic bag.  A little voice in my head suggested I tuck the plastic bag into my purse.

Thank you God for that plastic bag!

I escorted Collin into the sanctuary.  The worship music began, and he didn't perk with the sound of the instruments and voices.  After the last song, we sat down; the communion trays were passed around the rows.

"I'm going to get sick," Collin whispered.

Again, I tried my best to give him other ideas.

"I really don't think you're going to get sick," I mumbled.

Right then he clutched his side and hunched over.  My reflexes kicked in, and I pulled out the bag.

In the middle of the sanctuary, during communion, my son was vomiting into a plastic newspaper bag.

Here's the good news:  He didn't hit the communion tray!

Here's the bad news:  My communion prayers that the two of us would be teleported out of the church were not answered.

Therefore, I had to walk through the church aisle with my son continuing to vomit into the bag.  A mom version of the walk of shame.  (And to the parishioners around me, I'm sorry.  I imagine the sounds of vomiting did not contribute to reverent communion time.)

Poor Collin spent the rest of the day rotating between rest and sickness.

That evening, he "broke in" our new carpet.  I was kicking myself for bragging to the carpet salesman in December, "We are past having kids get sick on the carpet!"  It made me realize you really are never past that stage when kids are in the house.

On Tuesday, Collin was diagnosed with Strep Throat.  

By Wednesday, he wanted a barbecue grilled cheese sandwich.

I gave it to him, because he wouldn't get sick on our carpet again.  Right?

Sometimes, I feel like I never learn.










Friday, March 4, 2016

Creating a Baby


Basketball season wrapped up.  Connor scored the "scholastic achievement award" for the team.  Proud mama.


Six weeks until the Boston Marathon and our training continues....



Making updates and repairs to our house.  My talented and sweet friend Melinda is helping the process.  Her contribution to our mantel.

My boys don't rattle off a lot of details about their days.  Often they will grunt out one word responses to my chirpy "How was your day?"  But, sometimes they'll give me a nugget about school that makes me either scratch my head or buckle over in a fit of giggles.

That happened this week.

When Caleb was asked about his day, he responded, "I got paired up with a girl in science, and we have to create a baby."

Wait...what?

I had to sit down to get an explanation.  

Surely a Christian school wouldn't sanction any risqué behavior, right?

Evidently Caleb and his female partner have to genetically create a baby.....ON PAPER.  And, although the project is educational, they have been adding a bit of humor into the process.

My new Grandson's name?  Donald Clinton Wood.

He wouldn't confirm whether he was born with a combover and political aspirations.

I'm grateful to be a  Grandmother...on paper only!