Volleyball!

My oldest girl, Megan, plays volleyball. This is her second year and she is on the JV team. Today was her first game.

I say game...but I'm not sure if I'm correct. At every "event" the teams play three times. Best two out of three. I don't know if it's three games make a match or is it three matches make a game? Or am I off in both regards?? Well for my sake and so you know what I'm talking about, I'll call it three games in a match.

First game, Megan didn't start, but after a couple of minutes, the coach put her in. She got in there and gave great effort. I was very proud of her. Unfortunately, our team lost that first game. So the teams switched ends of the court and the second game began. The game went on and on, with one team scoring a point, then the other one catching up. Back and forth they went, but eventually we won! Yay! So another game began and it went the same way. Because both of the last two games were so close, the coach kept her starting six in.

So I sat there, worrying that Megan was feeling sad that she wasn't getting to play and I felt sad for her. See, I've been there. I played three seasons of basketball as a kid. And in three seasons of basketball, I'd be shocked if we added up all my game time and found out I played ten minutes...maybe not even five. I know the bench too well. And I felt it pretty keenly, especially in eighth grade. Always stuck in for the 32 seconds of the game we were losing miserably. It made me angry. "Great, I get to go in for the loss and I'll look like the one who lost the game." I really wished she wouldn't put me in at all if she was only going to stick me in for less than a minute to watch us lose the game. So lugging those memories along with me, I worried about Megan a bit, sitting over on the bench beside her coach.

Then I looked up. And you know what I saw? Not a sad little face pouting over her bench-warming status. Not an angry adolescent acting like "it's just not fair!" Nope. I saw my girl getting the attention of her bench mates and getting them to join her in doing "the wave." She was grinning from ear to ear and having a fantastic time. And when the match was complete and our team was declared the victor, and all the girls were cheering and celebrating, you know who was jumping the highest? My bench-warming wave-maker.

I was proud. And instead of a heart full of worry I had a heart full of thankfulness that THAT's MY girl.

A Lesson from the Princess

Three things come to mind when I hear the words, "The Princess". One is the whole general princess idea...royalty, Disney, little girls playing dressup...you get the idea. Second is a great book from one of my favorite authors, Lori Wick. It is called...wait for it..."The Princess". And last but not least is my little tiny Yorkie, named Ceci.

Here she is as a baby...


And here she is in her favorite place...the car...


And here she is more recently...sporting her Jackie O look...


Her Princessness is obvious, right? I mean, who could argue against it? And why?

But that's not why I'm writing today. Today she taught me a lesson. It wasn't a NEW lesson, but it was one worth remembering.

Today Guy and I were swimming in our pool. Months ago, Ceci had somehow fallen into the pool, unbeknownst to us until I heard some strange splashing and went to investigate it. Turns out she's a pretty strong swimmer but the problem was she couldn't get out of the pool because she was too tiny to make it from the top step to the side of the pool. (She's just under 4 pounds.) So there was nowhere in the pool where she could touch down and no way she could get out. I scooped her out and she has wisely stayed away from the edge of the pool since then. She is clearly afraid of it...as is Harley, our little Maltese mix. Today, Guy and I decided to try a little "therapy" with them. I brought Ceci into the pool, very carefully. At first she was struggling, struggling, struggling, but I tucked her under one arm, the way she likes to be carried and she calmed noticeably. Guy came close and was talking to her soothingly and put out one hand to her and she was gripping his finger with her front paw, very tense, but not struggling. Then Guy moved away to draw Harley in with us. Ceci latched onto my hand, still tense. Harley didn't fight, exactly, but he was very freaked out about the water and holding on to Guy's shoulder for dear life.

Now something you don't know about Ceci (and why/how would you?) is that when either of our other two dogs are upset, barking or growling, etc., Ceci goes over very timidly and inches up into their face as though trying to comfort or calm them. It's really a sweet thing to watch...and sometimes funny that such a tiny dog would get in the face of another that's acting so aggressive. And if anyone is sick or hurt, she likes to curl up close to them, as though trying to comfort. And if you cry, she licks away the tears.

Back to the pool...
Ceci was in my arms and very tense, very rigid. Harley was in Guy's arms, very scared as well. I moved forward to try to calm and comfort Harley, too, with Ceci still tucked under my arm and as I drew close to his face, Ceci did, too...and I suddenly realized that she completely relaxed.

It may not sound like much, but I was amazed. Doesn't the same thing happen to us? We get so focused on our problems (for Ceci: the water) that we get overwhelmed and deeply distressed. But in those times, when we move to help someone who is in greater need, we gain a different perspective. We focus on what we can do for others and the stress lifts. The problems, like the deep water, don't just go away, but the fear doesn't keep controlling us.

My thoughts seem only half-hatched on this but I felt it was worth sharing...

Fear of what??

I've been hoping to sit down and blog for a week or so...so I did last night and totally forgot I had started this one, ha ha. I've had some bloggy thoughts on my mind. I haven't even thought it through but I've known I want to write it down and process it all.

Several times lately I've thought about a particular memory. Somewhere around six or seven years ago my youngest daughter had what was, to this mommy, an incredibly hilarious fear. Now that just sounds cruel, doesn't it? Laughing at your little helpless child. But wait until you hear.

For many small todlers, IF they have a fear, it is something like big dogs. Something that is intimidating by size or behavior. And it doesn't surprise us at all. I know it wouldn't have surprised me. But my girl was fine with dogs. It was something else...entirely unexpected...that she was afraid of.

One day the girls and I were walking from our condo out to the car. Suddenly Alli wasn't walking with us and I turn back to see what the problem was, or what had distracted her. She was frozen in fear because right there in the middle of the sidewalk was...not a dog...not a big ugly bird...not a snake. No, no, no. It was a snail. Yes, you read that right. It was a SNAIL! I tried to reason with her and told her to just step over it; it can't jump. I tried telling her to go around it; it's too slow to catch you. But no. She would not budge. So I walked back past the snail, lifted Allison up and set her back down on the other side of the snail and on she went, happy as a lark.

Needless to say, a couple weeks later when a squirrel blocked her path on the sidewalk, separating her from me, I knew better than to expect coaxing to work, ha ha.

I laugh whenever I share "the snail tale." I chuckle when I just think about it. It's one of those fun, peculiar, little stories we moms like to share about our kids. But it gets me thinking, too. That little tiny snail was in no way a danger to Alli. Even if it had wanted to harm her, the most it could have done was slime her. And we all know there's no way it could have caught her to even try. It was harmless. But it paralyzed her. She was NOT going to face that thing alone! She was afraid and so focused on that little thing that there was no reasoning with her. A snail.

We have snail-like fears, too. There are situations that I face sometimes that give me ridiculous levels of anxiety and I find myself praying fervently that God will give me strength and peace to get through. Then I get in the situation and I see what a harmless, snail-sized situation it is and wonder why on earth I was so incredibly freaked out about it.

I wonder why we do that? Why do we make mountains out of molehills? I don't know. But I'm glad I've got good friends, good family, and a good God to lift me up over those little terrifying snails.

SISSY SUE!!!

Today is my big sister's birthday. Her name's not Sue...not exactly...although she told people her name was Buggy Sue when she was a tot. Mom cleared that up for her, though. Her name is Angie...I call her Ang (pronouncing it like "bang" or "dang.") I try to avoid calling her That Dang Ang. It's better for my health.

Anyway, today's her birthday so I decided to blog about her. Guess it's also her lucky day!! ha ha See, I thought about an e-card and while there are some doozies out there, I thought maybe some actual thought on my part would be a better gift. So here we go....

Ang is one of the most interesting people I know...and I mean it in a good way. Though some eyes may pop and get that slightly worried look when first exposed to her humor, it is something I really appreciate. She is insane...the best form of insane. She is creative...incredibly so...and in many different ways. In her writing, in sewing, in decorating, in pet acquisition, lol, and the list goes on.

She is one of the most talented musicians I know. Just sit her down at a keyboard and watch her go. Or better yet, listen. Give her a new instrument and a little time and see what she does.

Then there's her genius brain with languages. As a small child she told Mom she was going to speak Spanish when she grew up. She's fluent. And has gone on to learn other languages to some degree as well.

She's the mother of four children, three of them girls (this accounts for the insanity). And now she's tackling an all new world. She was recently offered a job in the field of computers and I'm sure in no time at all she'll have that mastered as well. I mean, you should see what she does with side interests...like dogs, for example...the things she can tell you about dog breeds...or lizards...or belly dancing costumes...or our ancestry...is amazing. All because she gets interested. Guess she's an all-or-nothin' kind of girl. So give her something she's working on eight hours a day and I'm sure she will stun me yet again.

In many ways I almost envy her...the musical talent alone would be awesome...but I could never BE her. She likes cats, birds, and various amphibians. Hill don't go there.

But best of all, Ang loves me. And I love her, too. What else could sisters want??

Popeye

If ever a life was full of blog fodder, my life was the past few months. Funny though, there's been no time to blog! And so today is catch up and blog time!

Let's see...the last time I blogged was August and as most of you know, WOW-OH-WOW has my life changed!!...in just about every way I can imagine.

In October, my boyfriend proposed to me on a beautiful beach in Naples, FL. THAT was a story worth blogging. But not today.

In November, just six weeks later, my fiance and I got married in Staten Island...or should I say ON Staten Island? I don't know, but THAT was a story worth blogging. But not today.

In December, my husband and I went off to the British Virgin Islands. THAT was a story worth blogging. But not today. Oh wait, I AM going to blog about one little bit of minutiae. In a word, "Popeye."

What do you think of when you hear/read the word, "Popeye?" I think, "he's strong to the finish 'cause he eats his spinach, he's Popeye the sailor man."...."Toot, toot!" You too?

But I think of more, MoRe, MORE!

One day (on our trip to the BVI's) we were sitting down for breakfast at a restaurant at a marina. A waiter approached and told us he'd be serving us. His name? Popeye. Seriously. And so the song began to play in my mind....which also made me think of Robin Williams, who played a DANDY Popeye...which made me think of my father, who LOVED that movie and laughed hysterically throughout...and who used to watch the cartoon with me every morning before Kindergarten.

But that's not all, oh no, that's not all! One more thing that comes to mind when I hear "Popeye" is my wonderful friend Kristen's little girl, Savannah. Why? Take a look at this ...



Go ahead and say it. Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.

Note to self: MUST get more popeye shots. (I thought I had a good stash of her popeye smiles. Now where did I put them Hmmmmm...)

The Woooshee Tube

You can't have an afternoon like I did and not blog about it. You just can't. Some of you saw the skeleton of this post on Facebook. Prepare for the full fleshed-out blog version now...or click that little x up on your tab, lest you be bored.

The last week I've worked long hours at school and not even begun to be caught up. There's just a mountain of work to teaching, especially at the beginning of the year. But today was different. I knew I needed to get home because the afternoon and evening would be rush-rush-rush! So I took off only an hour after quitting time. I got home to take over the care of my girls. Mom had things she needed to go do. When I got home I realized I needed to pay my car payment TODAY so Mom agreed to delay while I ran and did that. No problem. I'd rush to the bank, get back, and Mom could go. Easy.

Or not.

I went to the bank. Everything went smoothly. I drove home, turned into my drive, put the car in park, turned off the engine, pulled out the key, and turned to the passenger seat to snatch up my purse, when what to my wondering eyes should appear? Why it was this little thingamabob...
It's the little cylinder that goes in the woooshee tube at the bank's drive-thru. I cracked up and ran in the house with my woooshee tube to show my mother. Alli met me at the door with, "WOW! THEY LET YOU KEEP THOSE THINGS?!?!!" I told her no and ran on past to confess my deed to my mother.

I don't remember if Mom laughed. I was laughing too hard to know, really. She recommended I take it back immediately, lest they come after me, lol. So I did. I called them on the way to let them know what I'd done and that I was on my way back with the woooshee tube. I didn't want them sending the police after me, lol. Great headline: Local teacher steals bank woooshee tube. The lady on the phone sounded pretty amazed that I had the tube. (Imagine that...like no one else has done that before???) So anyway. I head back to the bank, pull right up to the woooshee thing and put the tube back in. I glanced at the window and couldn't believe my eyes. Not ONE person looking. I thought for sure there'd be half the bank employees with their noses pressed up against the glass to see who the ding-dong was that took off with the woooshee tube. I was wrong....and very relieved, lol.

I can only wonder what my next great feat might be.... Stay tuned!

First Days and Heart Strings

Remember your child's first day of kindergarten? When my first was ready to go, I was okay with it. It was hard to believe my baby girl was big enough for kindergarten, but she was in my school, so I could cope well enough.

Then a few years later, her baby sister, my BABY was off to her first day of kindergarten. She was in the class next door to mine and it was still REALLY hard. I had wanted so badly to spend a year home with her, but had lost them all to day care (although she was with THE BEST, a very close, very dear friend.) So she was off to school and my heart was sad. Still...I don't think there were any tears.

Today was my girls' first day back to school. Meg went off to 7th and Alli began 4th grade. Meg in 7th BLOWS MY MIND. But 4th grade? Just another year. Not a major landmark in my thinking. But for whatever the reason, Alli was nervous. Her first day of 4th grade and she was SO nervous. She would go from talking ninety-miles-a-minute to laughing, to complaining that she was feeling sick. I'd tell her she was going to be fine and to just breathe slowly so her tummy would calm. The usual stuff. She was clearly not sick, but had some nerves.

We start driving to the school. About a block, maybe two, down the road, she's telling me she's carsick. I assure her she couldn't be carsick, that it's just nerves, and to keep breathing like I'd told her. Nice and slow, etc. Again she vacillates between excited talking and nervous complaints. At one point when she was feeling good, she told her sister to keep track of whichever kids weren't nice to her and to let her know...implying that she'd take care of the situation and those kids would KNOW to be nice to her big sister. It was very cute.

We get to school and I tell her to get out of the car. She doesn't move. So I look at her and she's holding a hand to her mouth, trying to will herself not to get sick. I wait and try to reassure her. Finally she gets out, gives me a big smile for my camera, walks around the car and then...well we won't be graphic, but let's just say it wasn't pretty.

So I debate...do I take her home? I mean, she just got sick. But then, I think it's only nerves, so maybe sticking it out would be better...get beyond the nerves, you know? Well she starts looking better and tells me she's feeling better. I walk her into her class, let her teacher know she's been sick from nerves. The teacher is reassuring to her and Alli starts settling in. Now what happens to Mom???? I start to cry. Not wailing, mind you, but I'm choked up and fighting back the tears.

How does that work? How is it that our kids are tied so tightly to our hearts that seeing my little girl nervous over her first day of school shook me to the point of tears. I don't know how it works, but you know...I'm glad it does. I'm glad for those heartstrings and wouldn't have it any other way.

So anyway, I gave her hugs and kisses and saw she didn't need me and off I go. THEN the tears really came. So what did I do??? I called my mommy. (Apparently those heartstrings are still intact, too.)

Before I called her though, I thought, "You know, Satan...you're not going to win. This is going to be a positive day whether you like it or not. Because this is going to be a great year, whether you like it or not!" Then I called my mommy, finished crying, and pulled in to my school.

And you know what? It WAS a positive day. I can't remember a first day in years where I haven't felt really overwhelmed...frustrated...even somewhat panicked. I didn't feel that at all today. And this evening? I wasn't a major success. Things ran later than I'd like, but kids' homework got done, food into bellies, hugs and kisses passed all around, and now they lie sleeping peacefully, recharging for another day of learning and growth...and loving.

I can't believe how blessed I am. If I lived the rest of my life without another blessing besides that of two little girls that have been entrusted to me, I could still say I am blessed beyond measure.

And one more thought occurs to me. About those heartstrings.... If we feel so strongly about our own children, can you begin to imagine what God feels for us. His heartstrings were so tight He sent Christ to provide salvation for us.

Incredible. WAY more than hmmmmm....