The Shiny Sticker

As is my new school-evening routine, I head straight for the backpack and whip open his blue “beary special” folder to behold the shiny sticker, confirmation that we are still on track. Today, there is no sticker! As my heart falls completely to the floor, I remove a two page (one page, front and back) note from my dear friend, Kim. It starts out so innocent “Hey Girl”, immediately taking a negative turn to “we experienced much frustration today”. I can still feel my insides turning over and over as my heart sinks deeper and deeper into my stomach. The note, written as sweetly and delicately as possible, goes on to describe multiple episodes throughout Caleb’s day. I want to cry, I want to hide, I want to disappear, but I just keep reading. He is such a precious child, but when he is upset or frustrated, nothing is off limits. I am sickened by Kim’s gentle description of the events and at this point, I don’t even know what to say to him. Where do we go from here? It was all hours ago, which might as well be days ago to a five-year-old. So, after several deep breaths and more “help me Jesus cries”, I ask Caleb about his day. “It was fine.” What do you say to a kindergartener who thinks a two-page-note-kind-of-day was “fine”?

We talk about calling our friends names, (which by the way was the least of his offenses today) and how it makes them feel. In full Caleb-style, he turns his face from me and refuses to talk or acknowledge my presence. This is my least favorite part of being a mom. So, we’re off to the corner where “you will sit until you’re ready to talk to me about this. You are not in trouble for your day, but you are in trouble for being disrespectful to me”. I have been dealing with this for five minutes today and I’m exhausted from it. I am horrified for Kim as she got all seven hours of it! After a “short” reflecting period, Caleb “is ready to talk about it.”

He didn’t mean to call his friend a name and knows it hurt his feelings; he is so sorry. But he DID NOT kick mulch on Ms. Pantall, she is “not right” but yet she’s “not lying” to me either. The conversation goes on for what seems like eternity, but is in reality probably only about 5 minutes. We discuss all the incidents and why they cannot happen again and end on a note of “tomorrow is going to be a great day again!”

I say that to him with such surety, such a positive attitude, such determination, but I cannot help but wonder what it will really be like. I wish I could be in his little head to figure out exactly what it is that causes him to believe this is all okay. Don’t get me wrong, he isn’t out there abusing anyone or calling them really nasty names, but we’re not measuring the “level” of disrespect, its disrespect and disregard in any form that isn’t acceptable.

My sweet friend ends her summation of the day with “we will work through this and it will be okay, do not worry”. She is a blessing; I again thank God we are in her class. What would we do without her? Thank goodness she is not the faint at heart and that we have such a great partner in this journey. There is a long road ahead and success will be measured by many different milestones, but the first and foremost is hoping that tomorrow brings another shiny sticker!

What is that Stuff Falling From the Sky?

I just walked back in from an appointment and the craziest thing happened to me! There were large drops of moisture falling from the sky...WHAT IS THAT? Just wondering if anyone else has had such an experience and if they might be able to assist me in identifying the cause.

The Happy Place

Have you ever lost your happy place? How do they just slip away sometimes? Why do we tend to roll over and bask in to the gloom and doom at times? How do you get back to happy, when you loose it? How do you find that happy place again?

I packed my sweet husband up and sent him off with his friends for the weekend hoping he'll find his. We've been married almost 10 years (seriously, we're like 3 weeks shy of it so in all honesty, 10 years)...that sometimes feels like 2 and often feels like 50. Neither of those are a bad thing. Our lives are really busy and while we can usually roll along with it and keep it together, sometimes only by the seams, every once in a while, it just gets to be too much.

If you don't know, he works the mid-night shift as a patrol officer in Brentwood, "The Bubble" as we call it. While there really isn't too terrible much "excitement" in the bubble, the hours alone are more than enough to pile on a huge amount of tension and stress especially when you add on the hectic schedule that our kiddos keep. He's lucky to hit the sack by 9:00 and kids start coming in the door by 3:00 so that's 6 hours on a good day (when there's no court, no meeting, no dogs barking at the mail man, etc). I don't get too much more than that myself, but I don't spend 9 -10 hours a night in a car all by myself in the middle of the night either (this is where we ignore the gun and potential danger, for my sanity's sake). The past several weeks and possibly months have been exceptionally...how should we put it, busy, which leads to tense for sleepy parents. I had some "minor" surgery this past May which used up my vacation time for this summer so we've not had a chance to escape the chaos and catch a little downtime at all this year. So, when the opportunity for a weekend away arose, I was the first one to vote "yes" to the trip!

He'll be home sometime tomorrow, hopefully with that smile and sparkle back in is eyes. I'm not sure where his happy place is exactly, but here's hoping that it's somewhere between Spring Hill and Bristol.

The Last First Day

Today was Caleb's first day of kindergarten!! He was so excited; I was so excited...not really, but it sounded good didn't it? I was nervous; I am nervous. You're thinking to yourself "she's had two other boys head off to kindergarten, what is the big deal?" and that is the same thing I thought to myself at least a million times. The big deal is two-fold, the big deal is that this really is my baby, my last baby; I'll never walk into the doors again for the first day of kindergarten. While that is almost a relief, it's completely bittersweet. This is my baby, my sweet, sweet baby whom I love with all my heart; the one Chris tells me is my favorite...he isn't my favorite, he's my baby and unless you have one of your own, you won't understand. The baby is the one that you try to hold onto because it's the last time you'll get to do it, whatever it is. The baby is the one that you dress in "baby clothes" a little bit longer because you just aren't ready for him to grow up, he's the one that you let sleep in your bed with you even though you'd have never let the other two because they needed to "grow up". He's the baby, not the favorite.

Well, it just so happens that my baby also has some major struggles; struggles that we work hard on every day. These struggles are what make up the rest of the big deal.

I have prayed for a year, literally, for his teacher this fall. I have prayed that the Lord would carefully choose a teacher for him that would encourage him, and love him as he is, someone who would understand him, see him for who he can be and would help us in this journey. We sat on the carpet this morning listening to my third reciting of THE KISSING HAND as Ms. Pantall read aloud and I batted back the tears that are welling up in my eyes again and choked down the knot that has once again appeared in my throat as I thought of the His faithfulness. We are once again in Kim Pantall's class; Kim loves each of the children who walk in her door as if they were her very own. My baby couldn't be in better hands. I turn my thoughts back to the fact that this is my baby, my last one, my big boy, my little man. How did he get so big so fast? When exactly did this happen? I take the time to cherish this last trip to the rug on the first day of kindergarten, I thank God that we can be there, that He has blessed us with these three precious boys and again feel the flood gates begin to open. At exactly the last dry second, Kim announces that it's now time for moms and dads to give our kissing hands and say goodbye. Ask any of my kids, I'm the first one out the door. It isn't because I don't want to be there, it's because the bravery has lasted as long as it can. A quick hug and a kiss and we're on our way. Chris doesn't say anything, just reaches over to hold my hand probably in effort to seal the dam before it broke; I'm sure it had nothing to do with his own feelings (and I didn't look, because I couldn't).

In the safety of my car, I made all the necessary phone calls to let everyone know he was successfully into his first day and then spent hours doing things to keep my mind off of it. In reality, it would have been easier to spend my drive to work sobbing my eyes out and getting over it because it has hung around all day!!

I picked him up at 1:30 and he bounced right into the car. Caleb had a great day, a really great day today...maybe by next week, mom will too.

Fifty is Down-Right Fabulous!

As with every good rule, regulation and in my case, ban, a loop-hole exists. It has been located and exercised in the Woodard sports ban. It appears that cross country at Heritage Middle School requires very little parent participation. Last year, Derek wished he had tried out and this year, he remembered that desire and not only did he try out, but he made the team. My responsibility to date has been to write the check for the fee, assist in the selection of a good pair of running shoes, pick him up after practice once, set the alarm for Chris to wake up to pick him up at 3:45 for the other practices (Tuesdays and Wednesdays only) and now, cheer him on during his first meet.

I remember Marisa and I were on the cross country team for approximately 20 minutes our freshman year in high-school. That is when I realized anyone participating in this sport must have something wrong with them. Who in their right mind would willingly and happily run out onto a 1.5 mile path over and over and over again? Apparently, my son and 103 others crazy kids from Heritage, Page, Woodland and Poplar Grove. Would you believe that I couldn't find a parking place when I got there to watch him? This was the first of my awing moments. The next and most impressive being that the meet started at 4:35 and by 5:00, Derek had busted out his mile-and-a-half, claimed the 50th position, rounded out the top five for his team and we were in the car on the way home. Now, that is a time-frame I can live with!!

I might think he's crazy for willingly putting himself through such misery, but I couldn't have been more proud. It is was great that he finished in the top half and I was thrilled that he made the top 5 for his team, but nothing was better than him crossing that finish-line and being proud of himself. Way to go D; fifty is down-right fabulous!

The Energizer Bunny

You might not realize it, but you are looking at the energizer bunny here...Murry D. Reeves, aka, Grandaddy. Think about all the things that you could have seen in 91 years. How many things could have changed and how many things have come and gone in that period of time. My sweet grandaddy, known as "Chief" to my boys and my Daddy, is celebrating his 91st birthday today. The picture is actually from his 90th birthday last year when we all surprised him in Mississippi and everyone spent the weekend together. Looking at it today, only his "thickness" has changed well, that and the fact that he doesn't wear his glasses anymore because this whipper-snapper had eye surgery about 6 weeks ago and doesn't need them any more. Can you imagine?

I ran by this morning to see Grandaddy and drop off the official birthday card and cupcake and found him working in the yard sporting his famous brown leather shoes, tan socks (up to his knees of course), khaki shorts and white undershirt...the cutest thing in the world I tell you! He doesn't move as fast as he used to, but he's not missing a step or cancelling any "dates". Mom called today to take him to lunch and of course, he was already booked; she had to settle for dropping by to say hello and a bite of watermelon. This is the 91-year-old who takes the "old folks" from church to the grocery store. I think he's like the energizer bunny...he just keeps going and going and going.

There is a quote by ole Abe himself that says "Its not the number of years in your life, but the life in your years that counts." We'll, there's more life in these 91 years than most of us have in 91 days but I believe that once you reach these milestones, it's okay to start counting the years too.

The First 30 Minutes

As a child, I was a early riser and it was usually very easy to get out of bed and start my day regardless of the time that I finished the prior day. My dad's alarm would go off downstairs and I'd be awake waiting to hear him call me or I might be walking downstairs already. This of course wasn't every morning, but the standard. A far cry from my dear sister who would never get up and often had to be drug out of bed and then serenaded by my mother's specially composed song "Put a Smile on Your Face". She is probably shuttering at the mere words, but the words alone don't do it justice. The shrill and the accent and the pronunciation and the lack of melodic sound...there is no real way for me to demonstrate it for you and honestly, you'd rather not hear it. It was, by far, the most horrific song ever written. I shiver at the thought of it today and it was never belted (and that is how it is performed) my direction.

I go into all of this not to bash my sister's inability to remove herself from her covers as a child or my mother's lyrical abilities, but because I've been reminded of all those childhood mornings this entire week as we've tried to get back into the routine from summer break.

Chris is at work when the alarms start going off at the Woodard house so he is completely unaware of the chaos that ensues when the dawn rings in. That screeching from my blackberry begins at 5:30, I remember it sounding so cheerful when I picked it for the alarm. By 5:45, I'm stumbling over sleeping dogs and tripping over the darting cat (who is wailing at me to feed her) to get to Derek to bring him back from the depths of his comatose sleep (and I promise, he is comatose). Usually, he will get up, but there are mornings that he needs a little extra encouragement. After a "quick" shower, I'm back to tripping over dogs to relive the episodes of the Loftin household as I try and get Russell B to join us. I must admit that on rare occasion, I’ve had to use the song. That child loves his sleep! Caleb will either come to the party on his own, or we'll dress him in his sleep (remember, kindergarten has yet to begin for him so he's still safe) and plop him in the car on our way out the door.

At this point the full-fledge-mad-dash is on and it's a free-for-all..."Don't forget to brush your teeth...wait, did you eat anything?", "Mom, do you know where any socks are?" "Derek, there is deodorant in your drawer for a reason and it isn't just so you can look at it", "Lunches are in the fridge", "Don't forget I've got practice today after school, pick me up at 3:45.", "Did we sign everything that needed to be signed?" "Russ, take the dogs out", "Have you seen my blue shoes?" "When you get home this afternoon, you had better clean your room"...and the list goes on and on and on, but you totally get the idea. It is 55 minutes of pure and total chaos. Maybe we should try to begin this regimen earlier, but seriously, 5:00 is just too early for me and that's all there is too it. By 6:35 Derek is on his way to the bus and we're getting in the car...us, the lunch boxes, the back-packs, the occasional breakfast-on-the-go and hopefully, our sanity. This is when it all runs well...when it doesn't, it isn't pleasant for any of us. The mornings that it isn’t pleasant is honestly the point of this entire entry.

Dale Thomas, www.winnersbychoice.com, shared some incredible insight with me today and I'm passing it along to you because it could possibly change all of our lives. She said "everything that goes into your mind in the first thirty minutes of your day determines the outlook and productivity of the entire rest of your day"! That is astounding...imagine what we could empower our children with as they begin their day, imagine what we could do differently if we began our day better? I look back in horror at the things that have been said in our house on those "not-so-perfect-mornings"...we were all doomed from the get-go. So, I'm challenging you to party it up in the morning...turn the radio up loud, dance and sing, get excited about your day and what it's going bring. Claim the day in the Lord's honor and make it great...make it great in the first 30 minutes!

Speline

Spelling tests, just the sound of the words sends chills up and down my spine and causes a knot in my stomach...and at this point, they aren't even my spelling tests!! The only thing that could be worse is if you said "Spelling Bee"...you know, public humiliation.

Russ has graduated into the third grade and today, he walks in the door with 30 spelling words for this week...yep, you heard me, THIRTY (just so you know I didn't mis-type the numbers) spelling words. Please know that this is the same sweet child who wrote "speline folder" in huge black letters on the outside of his spelling notebook last year...I'm thinking that our work has been cut out for us and we're just now on day one of the first full week of school. OH MY GOODNESS (just so you know, anytime you might see OMG on my blog, it is GOODNESS...please read it appropriately)...what will we do? Now for the positive side of things, these thirty words were given as a pre-test today and my precious, loving, math-oriented child spelled 7 of them correctly...well, at least we've gotten that list down to 21 for the week!! So, when you close your eyes to pray tonight, or even as you're reading this, drop an extra request in for the Woodard's we have 21 words to learn to spell before Friday!!!

The Hard Stuff

Baseball (that's my crutch anyway) kept us gone all summer long...well, since March actually, and since the sports-ban, I had the perfect opportunity to get everyone up and out this morning and right on over to TSC...it was breathtaking just to walk in the door and be home again. The famaliar marathon of praise music came to and end and the man took to the podium. I love to hear Tom McCoy preach; he is so honest and so real and...when he "gets to preachin", he might just end up right in your face with something. Of course, I'm fearing the worst of this because I don't need anyone's help knowing that we haven't been where we needed to be and the guilt each morning as we headed out to the ballfield has been enough that even Goliath himself with all his "cubits" and "shekels" would have stuggled to carry it. The screen pops up; "Courage" is the topic for the day...and I can breathe a little easier; I can probably avoid direct persecution besides, how many times have we heard the story of David and Goliath? I mean my five year old can repeat it with all the important details. That's the thing about Tom, he's the slippery, sneaky type and the Lord will use him to get you ...especially when you're not expecting it. And so He does and I know it's coming and there's not one dang thing I can do about it...no where to run (like you can out run the Holy Spirit) nowhere to hide...it all boils down to "the hard stuff"...the "hard stuff" in my life begins at home and follows me to the office where it gets even harder. The hard stuff is dragging my butt up out of bed to take my boys to church while Chris is working and being there in that pew when Tom calls for the spouse and families to pray together and I sit there without mine, the hard stuff is battling the demons that my fourteen-year-old faces between two fathers-the one who should love him and the one who does, the negativity that comes home from a shift on the streets dealing with other people's problems and the stress that I bring home from an office that is struggling to find it's balance. The harder stuff is standing up to all of that and saying you know what, it just isn't going to be this way any longer. But I get it, I know when I've been told and directed, I know when it's time to act. So, if you happen to find a smooth round stone flying towards you, it is, as my favorite pastor might say, "in the name of the Lord" and it's just me dealing with "the hard stuff".

Not a TOTAL Sports-ban

So, I'm at the computer and from here, I can hear all of my boys piled up in my bed "talking football"...all four of them. Who's good, who's overrated, who's their favorite, who needs to hit who, who just missed what tackle, who's on their fantasy team (yes, they all have one)... ultimately, they are cheering on their Titans. So, I might have banned sports, but who could possibly ban this great dad and son time? These are the moments that the sports-ban is all about...these are the moments that are an answered prayer. These are the moments that you thank God for (even if I can't be in on them).

The Test of Time

My grandparents have been married a million years today…well, actually 62, but in today’s world 62 might as well be a million!!

There is nothing sweeter than these two people and their love for each other and their family. My Goggie reminds me all of the time how proud they are of their “brood” as she calls us and how they marvel at its size (as pictured above, not that we’re really all that big). Goggie and Grandaddy have two girls, my mom and my aunt. Each of them has two children, which then spreads into my mom’s two son-in-laws and three grandchildren. Grandaddy talks about how it was just the two of them and now, we’re a whopping 16 members strong. Getting us all together isn’t always easy and actually sometimes its Christmas (literally) before you can close one door behind all of us, but oh the good times we have when you get it done! The photo is from Grandaddy's surprise 90th birthday last year...just a reminder of the good times that happen when the Reeves all come town!

The foundation of all of our family lies within these two people, not to short any other of my family members, but the love and faith of these to individuals has spurred the rest of us through many, many years and has crossed the boundaries that others would never even approach. They are always there loving each of us even when we are all tied up in the business of our own lives.

Chris and I have been married 10 years next month and I know the things that we’ve faced and survived...sometimes only by the “skin of our teeth” as they say; I cannot even imagine what 52 more years will bring, but I know for sure that there isn’t anything but the Lord Himself calling one of them home that will ever come between these two. They are a shinning example of love and faithfulness. I’m sure that they could both share some ugly stories if we really pushed them, but you’ll never hear those from either of them. What you would hear is that their Lord is the reason they have made it and He is answer; He is the answer to standing the test of time.

Less is More

So, when my sister reads this, she's going to say something really, really ugly to me since I've dogged her for her new-found obsession with blogging. I personally have no idea what this is all about, but it seems to be the new way to communicate with...well, everyone. And, since I don't really ever find time to sit down with my friends for a long chat, I thought to myself "we'll just see how this goes."

This could be perfect since I don't ever seem to have time to catch up with everyone else. Maybe, some of you will get on board too and then, I'll know what's going on in each of your lives as well.

Anyway, I don't really have any idea what to say or not to say, so beware, you might learn things that you'd rather not know...I am prone to over share and am apologizing in advance.

I guess we'll just start with the present and that I am finding such joy in the calmness of our life right now which is comical because it's not really calm at all, just so much calmer than usual. Derek is 8th grade this year at HMS and is going through all of those really nasty "14-year old" issues, but he's still such a great kid. Russ is nervous about his 3rd grade year at CRES, but Derek keeps telling him how great he'll do. I remember my third grade year; it was terrifying (and I was a really good student) and 3rd grade is the only year that has been hard for Derek so I'm not really looking forward to Russ's 3rd grade experience either, but you'll never hear me tell him that! Caleb starts kindergarten on the 25th and that will be a whole other post! The craziness comes in with all the friends, homework, household chores, LAUNDRY (and yes, it gets it's own listing), try-outs, reading logs (again, it's own category) and the new found past-time at our house "running". Maybe we shouldn't really call it running, but other than Russ, we're really non-runners, so anything above a casual meander, is classified as running. This new time-consuming-activity is all Chris's fault so we'll just blame him!

Back to the good part though, the calmness...oh, the calmness (is that a word?). After we finished our one-millionth baseball game this summer (late July), I declared a total ban on all sports for the fall. You have to know that this has NEVER happened at our house. Since Chris and I got married, he has played softball (usually on at least two teams and on rare occasion, three). For several seasons, I played with him. Then, Derek started playing and now we've progressed into having all three of the boys playing ball. There's always baseball and basketball, sometimes hockey and we've tried soccer. As if their three schedules weren't enough, we're insane enough to allow the older two to sometimes play on multiple teams ie: Derek played school ball and rec ball during baseball season this year, Russ played hockey and travel baseball this spring. You don't even have to voice what is going through your head; I realize that it is completely self-inflicted misery. Thus, the sports-ban this fall. IT IS WONDERFUL!! Since July 20th, I have not rushed home from work to rush into "divide and conquer mode" to get anyone to any practice of any sort. We've hung out at the pool (all five of us together...another rarity), we've taken a quick trip to Point-Mallard, we've eaten dinner at the dining room table TOGETHER, Caleb learned to swim, Derek learned to turn a flip off the diving board and Russ remembered how much he loved to ride his bike. It is absolutely a blessing. Still completely crazy, but so calm at the same time.

I still don't get in bed any earlier and I'm just as tired, but it's a good tired now, not just exhaustion. I thank God that we've found time to be together again...or maybe for the first time. Thankful that He has shown me that less really is more sometimes.