Dear Mom, Mondays: Make ’em laugh

September 3, 2012 by Kelli

Do you remember those magical moments as a kid when the stars aligned and you said the perfect thing to send your parents into a fit of laughter? Do you remember how good it felt to know that your parents delighted in you?

Dear Mom,

Laugh a little…or a lot. The sound is magic and I will walk away knowing that you think I’m fun, that you delight in me, that I make you happy.

Raising children is a battle. Each morning I wake up, take a deep breath and prepare for the fight. Some days, the fight begins before my feet even hit the floor. By the time I get to the kitchen people are already arguing and crying and tattling and demanding food and drink.

(My children insist on being fed EVERY DAY! Multiple times, even…)

When I awaken to a battle already being waged, I do not smile much. I’m on edge, I’m frustrated, I’m tired, I just want coffee and thirty minutes of quiet. But I’m not afforded such luxeries, so I push through.

If I can find the strength to muster a smile and even a little laugh, it does wonders toward diffusing the battlefield. If I can throw in a little joke and get them laughing, and we all leap together into delight, suddenly brushing teeth and putting shoes on is no longer akin to torture and the waters smooth just a bit.

The other day, when the arguing was too much, the tattling too far, the smiles too hard to force, I pulled up this video and put it in front of the kids.

BOOM!

Hearty laughter abounds and what were we fighting about again?

Sometimes they’re so silly, and the jokes they tell are so bad that I must bite my lip and swallow the impatient sigh. If I can muster a smile, that’s a nice place to start, but if I can offer a chuckle or a genuine laugh, I’ve made the day of the silly clown of a child.

Because fifteen years from now, the children will remember me, their mother, in some form or another. Will I be remembered as one who delighted in them, who filled the rooms with laughter, or the sour puss who only wanted coffee and alone time?

Dear Mom. Delight in your children. Smile often and laugh every day and never forget that they will, potentially, some day be in charge of choosing your nursing home. You want them to choose wisely…

HAPPY LABOR DAY! Go sit on your tail and do nothing…

Filed Under: Kids, Life, Motherhood Tagged With: Dear Mom Mondays, Delight in your kids, Laughter

On playing the fool

August 30, 2012 by Kelli

“It’s better to keep your mouth closed and let people think you’re a fool than open it and remove all doubt.”

Mark Twain

I wonder what Mark Twain would think about social media. I would love to hear the zingers that he’d come up with regarding the many, many opportunities we all have now to play the fool. Perhaps he would change his quote to say, “It’s better to keep your fingers still and let people think you’re a fool than send out a Tweet and remove all doubt.”

With the influx of social media and the numerous sites that allow us to convey ideas, share thoughts, connect with one another and offer our vastly different opinions, I fear that we have opened ourselves up to looking the fool if we aren’t diligent and careful to manage our online footprint.

And as parents, we had better be ever vigilant in teaching our children how to navigate the waters of the online world. Social media isn’t going away and I don’t think it should. There is a lot of good coming from the online communities that have sprung up these last few years.

There’s also a lot of danger.

We are all prone to fits of frustration and angry backlash of the tongue. Some are, perhaps, more prone to issue a biting, angry barb than others, but none of us are immune. We have all inserted a foot in the mouth at some point in our lives and we’ve probably all had to apologize for foolish words spoken in the past. It’s the nature of being human – we can’t control our tongues.

But while a biting comment may ruin a relationship, if it’s been said in private there are steps one can take to restore that relationship, to apologize and to learn from the mistake in a private way.

A foolish tweet or Facebook post, however, will last forever.

This scares me for my children and it’s this reason alone that will keep them from opening a Facebook account or having a Twitter profile until Lee and I are sure that they have mastered enough control over emotions and words that they won’t blast off 140 characters that end up painting them fools for the rest of their lives.

And lest we think this issue of foolish tweeting is only a thing for youth, the fact is it isn’t. I’m astounded, particularly now as we are headed into a contentious political season, at the things grown ups are posting online. Foolish tweets. Ridiculous pictures and meme’s. Shameful Facebook posts.

So many words are being misused and the online world turns into a dreadful game of cat and mouse. This isn’t to say I don’t think people should share their opinions. Of course not. I am completely supportive of people writing about the things that they feel passionate about.

It’s the snarky, online bickering and arguing that I find tiresome and this is the very behavior that I will passionately teach my children. Don’t be the fool online. Think before your tweet. If you don’t have something nice to say, just say nothing at all.

Please.

I have one child in particular who is very susceptible to reacting in anger. Words are his weapon of choice and when he’s frustrated, he uses them in an attempt to ease the frustration. I understand this about him only because I struggle with the same thing. A single quick, harsh word only feels good for a split second.

It feels horrible for eternity afterward.

We are constantly working with him and teaching him how to control and tame his tongue. How to stop, to breathe, to think and to decide if the words he wants to say are really going to make the situation better or worse.

If he can learn to do this in his every day interactions, then I feel like we will be better preparing him to handle the interactions of the internet.

In the nearly five years that I’ve been blogging, I’ve learned that not every sentiment of my heart needs to be blogged. Not every disagreement needs to be resolved online. Sometimes people say things that I disagree with and I find myself getting hot and angry.

So I walk away from the computer.

I’d rather keep my ~~mouth shut~~ fingers still and be thought a fool than send out a tweet and remove all doubt.

If you have children, how are you preparing them and training them for the online world that stands in their future?

Filed Under: Blogging, Kids, Motherhood Tagged With: Foolish Tweets, Mark Twait, Motherhood, parenting, Taming the Tongue, Teaching Children to be Wise

On raising intellectuals

August 28, 2012 by Kelli

“Bonhoeffer was a remarkably independent thinker, especially for one so young. Some professors regarded him as arrogant, especially because he refused to come too directly under the influence of one of them, always preffering to maintain his distance. But someone who grew up dining with Karl Bonhoeffer, and who was allowed to speak only when he could justify every syllable, had probably developed a certain intellectual confidence and may be somewhat excused if he was not intimidated by other great minds.” Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy (page 62). Written by Eric Metaxas

“…Then his mother weighed in, suggesting that perhaps he should study under Holl, the Luther expert, and write his dissertation on dogmatics after Seeberg was out of the picture. As the daughter of a respected theologian and the granddaughter of a world-famous one, she likely had more to say on this subject than any mother in Germany. The intellect of both Bonhoeffer parents and their interest in their son’s academic progress are remarkable, and we can hardly wonder at his closeness to them.” Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy (page 63).

Actual conversations heard in my house:

Sloan to Lee: “Hey Dad.” Pulls off his shirt and flexes his muscles. “How do you pop your pecs?”

Lee: “Well, son. Pec popping is a pretty well defined science. It’s really not to be attempted without intense training and a lot of dedicated practice.

Tia: “Can I feel your pecs while you pop them, Dad?”

Lee: “No. Because that’s weird.”

**************************

“Hey, Mom, look at this,” said the child who shall remain unnamed. “Look how far I can put this finger up my nose.” Shoves pointer finger up nose.

Me: “Hmmm…not bad, and that’s not even your biggest finger…now please don’t do that at the dinner table.”

***************************

We are just like the Bonhoeffers…

Filed Under: Family, funny stuff that happens, Kids, Kids do the darndest things, Lee Tagged With: Funny, kids say the darndest things, laugh, raising intellectuals

Dear Mom

August 27, 2012 by Kelli

They call my name four hundred times a day. “Mom? Mom?! MOM! MOOOOOOMMMMMMM!!!!!!” They need help with this, correction for that, reminders for everything and they want to eat all the time.

I get weary.

I get impatient.

I get frustrated.

I get tired.

And yet, I love them so very much that even though I threaten to go on strike and throw in the towel, I know that I never will. But do they know that?

I’m beginning a new series this week called Dear Mom Mondays. This is a chance for us to come alongside one another and spur each other on to greater love, greater patience, greater depth of motherhood. I would love for you to join me in this longing of my heart to be the best Mom that I can be.

Not the perfect Mom. I will still get frustrated. I will still get tired. I will still lose my patience. I will still look at the destroyed kitchen in utter disbelief because didn’t I JUST clean it?!

But when my children are grown and have left the house, when they look back on these early memories, what will stand out the most? Will it be my short temper, or my desire to love quickly? When they write me letters in twenty years, what words will follow “Dear Mom?”

This week, my focus in motherhood is to start at step 1 – Take Care of my Heart.

Motherhood can be very discouraging. There are days when I just really don’t like my children. They are rude and disrespectful and mean and argumentative and by the time bed time rolls around I’m so battle weary that I dream of some sort of escape.

Then one of them wanders out of their bedroom for one last kiss and hug and whispers “I love you” in my ear and I melt and decide they’re not so bad after all.

If I’m guarding and protecting my heart, I find I am much more patient with my children throughout the day. One of the first and most important ways I can do that is to get more sleep. I have a nasty habit of staying up way too late doing a whole lot of nothin’. I like to convince myself that I’m doing productive things, but messing around on Facebook and Twitter, reading blogs and watching TV are hardly productive things.

Lately, I’ve been trying to stay up late and wake up early, which means by 2:00 every afternoon I am a crabby, exhausted mess prone to react to my children in frustration and anger. Simply going to bed at 10:00 would do wonders for my patience and would probably make me more productive in the day time hours as well.

The second part of taking care of my heart involves simply starting my day off with scripture and prayer. For me, this is the best way to not only begin my day, but it’s also the best way for me to love my children well. If I begin the day by bathing them in prayer, my heart tends to be so much softer to their needs throughout the day.

So when they freak out over something small and silly, I can respond to the wails with love rather than with a deep sigh and a roll of the eyes.

Praying for our children makes their childish behaviors less of a nuisance.

This is my heart and my desire this week. Everything I do will build upon this very important piece of the motherhood puzzle. If I am taking care of my heart in these two very simple but impactful ways, then I can begin to work on other areas in mothering that need improving.

So what about you? What areas of motherhood are a struggle for you and how can we be an encouragement as you work to improve in those areas?

Join me next week for Dear Mom Mondays as we continue to tackle the frustrations and joys of mothering in order to spur one another on to greater love and grace with our children.

Filed Under: Domesticity, Kids, Motherhood Tagged With: Motherhood, Patience, Taking care of yourself

Contractually bound

August 21, 2012 by Kelli

Just fulfilling my “Mom-Blogger” obligations…

She's lost four teeth in the last month. That smile slays me...

This kid needs to stop growing...

Hot. Mess.

Ah! The freckles...

Landon, are you ready for school?

Here come the teachers...

The pictures end there for him because he began sobbing hysterically and had to be pulled from my arms, which you can only image was super duper and such a neat way to start my day.

It was an emotional day – just all around hard. I spent a lot of time praying that we made the right decision, wondering if sending them to school was the right thing. I had a pit in the bottom of my stomach all day. The moments when I wasn’t praying fervently were spent sitting in an Urgent Care getting a shot and prescriptions for the severe reaction I had to the fly bites from the other night. (Turns out I got bit by a yellow fly…which I’m apparently allergic to as evidenced by the fact my legs ballooned up like sausages and burned and itched like nothing I’ve ever felt before.)

So, you know – the first day of school wasn’t traumatic for me at all.

Here’s to better days to come…

For now, I’m praying over this prayer…and reminicsing a cute little first grade Sloan.

Filed Under: Family, Homeschool, Kids, School Tagged With: First Day of School, Mom Blogging, pictures, Was public school the right option?

And then there were six?

August 16, 2012 by Kelli

This guy has been asking to do this for awhile…

: Photo by Lulu Photography (LuluPhotog.com)

This girl told us a few months ago that she was praying very specifically…

This guy gets to play a new role and he is thrilled…

This girl is stepping onto a path toward her dream come true…

Photo by Avodah Images.com

And this guy is the one who has listened closely to the Lord’s calling and taken a giant leap of faith, leading our family down a very new path…

Big changes are headed our way. The path will be bumpy and rough and beautiful and scary and each step is taken with a gigantic measure of faith. It’s a path full of unknowns and we’re excited to see what the bend in the road will produce.

Have you guessed it yet?

Through God’s grace and His Provision alone, our little family of five will become a family of six.

We are in the process of adopting a little girl from Russia.

Pray with us, please?

This journey will not be easy and a child in our arms at the end of the road is not guaranteed. The adoption situation in Russia is tenuous at best and there is every possibility that the door could close so we take each step with great faith and prayer for protection for us and our children.

We are elbow deep in paper work and some days I feel so excited and filled with anticipation. Other days I feel discouraged and worried and afraid. I’m told this is normal.

Your prayers are most appreicated and coveted. We have a lot of work to do, a lot of money to raise, a lot of faith to develop and cling to.

I’m so glad to have you all by our side.

Happy Thursday, friends.

Filed Under: faith, Family, Grace, Kids, Lee, Life Tagged With: Adoption, Big News, Changes, faith, Life

The Tooth Fairy’s a Vampire

August 13, 2012 by Kelli

Tia lost one of her two front teeth last week. It wasn’t the one I expected her to lose first, which means the looser of the two front teeth was left hanging precariously to the side without a mate to hold it up. In short, it was the epitomy of The Snaggletooth:

Yowza.

Because she outright refused to let us pull it, I tried to come up with as many creative ways to “accidentally” knock the tooth out for her. We went to Busch Gardens twice last week and I purposly put her in front of me on several rides hoping she would slide forward and bump her mouth.

Just a tiny bump, enough to jar it loose is all…

Finally, I caught a break on Sunday when she and her dad were doing some sort of gymnastics/cheerleading move and she bumped her mouth on his knee. Before she even knew what was happening, I had my fingers around the tooth and gave one solid yank.

I figured I only had one chance so I had to make it count, and I succeeded. Then I nearly passed out from all the bleeding. Ugh…mouth bleeding.

Aren’t you glad you stopped by to check in on us today? You aren’t eating are you? Sorry…

I didn't know it was possible for her to get any cuter...

So we had the tooth and Tia had a lisp and all was well in the world again. We spent the night at my parent’s condo last night, which was very exciting, because whenever the Tooth Fairy visits at the condo, she leaves money behind in a shell.

That is, of course, if the blasted Tooth Fairy doesn’t forget and head to bed instead of doing her job.

Tia walked out quite dejected and disappointed this morning. She saw my dad first and I heard the conversation.

Tia: “Boss, the Tooth Fairy didn’t come.” small sniff

Dad (aka ‘Boss’): “Uh-oh. I wonder what happened. You should go see if your Mom knows anything.”

She walked around the corner holding her tooth, her eyes sad and dejected. And I? I thought fast…

“I am so sorry, kiddo. That was Mommy’s fault. You went to sleep last night with your glow sticks by your pillow and the Tooth Fairy is afraid of light so she probably got spooked and left without taking your tooth.”

And then she grinned. At least I think she did. It’s hard to tell if she’s smiling when I can’t see any teeth. A few minutes later, I heard her telling Sloan the reason the Tooth Fairy didn’t leave behind a treat.

“The Tooth Fairy is afraid of the light?” he asked. “Like a vampire?”

*sigh*

Tonight her tooth is back under her pillow with a very sincere apology note for scaring her off last night. And as soon as the Tooth Fairy gets off her tail and quits blogging, she is going to go deposit a dollar under the patient child’s pillow. The child who insisted there be no light on to scare the Tooth Fairy tonight.

Landon sleeps on the other side of the hallway and just after I put him to bed he called me into his room. “I need light,” he whimpered. “I don’t want the Tooth Fairy to come in here and take my teeth.”

A small note now lays outside his door that reads, Dear Tooth Fairy. Please do not come into Landon’s room. He has not lost any teeth. Thank you so much.

What’s the most creative tale you’ve ever had to tell your children?

PS – I know this business of telling our kids about the Tooth Fairy and Santa Clause and the Easter Bunny can be a hot button topic. We have chosen to allow our children the magic and fun of believing in those things while they are young. We plan on telling them ourselves that those things are just myths when we feel the time is right. We will be letting Sloan in on the secret this year because clearly when you start drawing connections between the Tooth Fairy and vampires it’s time to end the game.

This is what we have chosen to do in our family. I respect completely if you feel differently about the issue.

Filed Under: Family, funny stuff that happens, Kids, Kids do the darndest things, Motherhood Tagged With: Mom Fail, The Tooth Fairy, Tooth Fairy sleeping on the job, Woops

Watch your back, Peyton Manning

August 7, 2012 by Kelli

Dear Peyton Manning,

I think you’re great. I mean…well, truthfully, had I not married into a family full of sports nuts, I probably wouldn’t know who you were. I’d likely have only a passing awareness of your name, but I would not be intimately aware of the details of your life, your big moves (Go Denver! Okay, I totally had to pause to go look that fact up and make sure I was right before hitting publish…) and your familial affinity for the game of football.

But my life involves a whole lot of Sports Center, so I do know these things. I know you’re considered one of the greatest Quarterbacks of all time (at least, I think you are. Actually, I don’t really know all that much at all…) Anyway, my point is this – you’re really good. I know you are. But you might want to watch out, because this kid?

He just could de-throne you.

What’s that?

Who am I?

Oh…I’m just this kid’s Mom.

Note to self - We need to invest in one of those giant tents because the Florida sun is intense.

Yes…I know that makes me partial and that my opinion is completely biased and I seem to have very little true knowledge of the ins and outs of your sport but…

What? Why do I think he’s out to take your spot as one of the greats?

Also need one of those water packs. Brilliant!

Oh, you know…only because he threw four perfectly spiraled passes for four touchdowns in his first football game ever after only three practices, one of which he did mere seconds before being sacked.

Watch your back, Peyton. There’s a new kid in town and he’s got quite the swagger.

Oh and by the way…he also has a little brother who happens to be a sports prodigy so you might want to tell Eli to watch out, too. Today it’s the Manning Brothers but give it twenty years…it just might become the Stuart Brothers.

In my totally and completely biased opinion…

PS – I used to think there was nothing cuter than a little boy in a baseball uniform. I was wrong. Little boys in football uniforms take the cake.

Do you have any budding little athletes in your house?

Filed Under: Family, Florida, Kids, Sloan, Sports, summer fun Tagged With: Eli Manning, Kids and sports, Little boys in football, Peewee football, Peyton Manning

.41¢

August 6, 2012 by Kelli

I took the boys with me, a Mama and son date. Tia spent the weekend having her girly tank filled with her cousins. They did hair and played dolls and giggled and laughed. And so it was that I was alone with the boys for three days and errands were an unwanted necessity.

The kid’s school requires uniforms so I’ve been on a quest for the cheapest shirts possible however, the color shirt they’re required to wear is not very common, which lead us to the uniform shop in a rougher part of town to pick up several shirts specific to their school.

We rolled to a stop after exiting the highway and Sloan saw him first. He was standing back from the road a bit, his thin slice of carboard offering a two word plea.

HELP PLEASE.

Had I been alone, shamefully, I would have ignored him. I would have stared straight ahead so as not to make eye contact and avoid the awkward. I would have said no to the least of these.

But I wasn’t alone. I was in the car with a nine year old who is determined to change the world – a nine year old who just might do that someday if I don’t mess him up.

“Mom, give him some money! He needs help!” He said this as he rooted for loose change and reached for my purse. But I didn’t have any money. I never have cash on me. Cash means Starbucks to me so I rarely carry it to avoid the temptation.

“I don’t have money, babe,” I said, regret lacing my words.

“Yes you do,” he cried, holding up a handful of coins triumphantly. One quarter, one dime, one nickel and one penny. Every coin represented.

“Honey, that’s not really much money. It won’t help him. You can’t do anything with .41¢.”

“Well, he can save it, then, until he gets a little more,” Sloan replied and really, how could I say no? My child was asking me to do good. Like I said, here’s to hoping I don’t mess him up…

I rolled down the window and motioned the man near. He walked with a limp to the car window. “I’m sorry it’s not more,” I said, my face flushing a bit. Why was I embarrassed? Why do I still feel like I must do something big for it to hold any lasting impact? “It’s all we had and we wanted to help.”

The man took the four coins with dusty hands and his eyes filled with tears. “Ma’am,” he said as he separated the penny from the rest of the group and held it up in the sunlight. “If you had just given me this one penny, it would have been enough but you chose to give more. I can’t tell you what this means to me.”

I smiled and blinked back my own tears. The stoplight was soon to change, I knew this, so I turned quickly and pointed to my freckle-faced boy. “It was his big heart who wanted you to know that we see you and we love you and we will be praying for you.”

Sloan leaned forward so he could see out the window and the man looked at him deep. “You’re a good young man,” he said. “Listen to your Mama and stay in school, you hear me? And don’t ever let anyone tell you you’re not good enough, because you are.”

Sloan nodded and then spoke, his words filled with a grace beyond his years. “Thank you, sir,” he said. “I will be praying for you every day.”

The light turned green and we moved forward. The man stepped back from the road and as we made our left turn, I looked back to see his face buried in his hands, his shoulders heaving. In his clutched fist, he held tight to .41¢.

We pulled into the uniform store a few minutes later and Sloan looked at me with heavy eyes. “We should do more for him,” he said and I nodded. I felt it, too. “Like, can we buy him a house or something?” he asked. Just like his Mama, he thinks big.

I smiled and ruffled his thick hair. “We can’t buy him a house, but we could buy him a meal,” I said and he smiled. So that’s exactly what we did. After picking up shirts for the next school year, we swung through a local restaurant and ordered a meal and a bottle of water then rushed back around to the spot where we first met him.

He was gone.

Sloan’s face fell as he clutched the bag of fries and burgers. “Where did he go?” he asked, his face scanning left and right. “Oh I see him!” Landon screeched from the back seat, excited to be a part of this moment with his brother. Our friend sat under a bridge with another man. He was smoking and speaking animatedly.

“How are we going to get to him, Mom?” Sloan asked and just then the man stood up and started walking back toward our corner. We didn’t have long. I grabbed the food, jumped out of the car and waved at him, setting the food on the curb then rushing back to the car. He hurried over, his face registering shock.

“I was just telling my friend Peter about how much you blessed me and now this?” He looked genuinely surprised. The light turned green and I pulled forward. “God Bless you!” he called as we rounded the corner and he disappeared. A few minutes later, as we merged on the highway, Sloan spoke up again. “Will we see him again, Mom?” he asked.

“Probably not,” I said.

“Can I pray for him now?” Sloan asked and I nodded my head yes. And with eyes swimming, I drove us home while my nine year old demonstrated a faith that moves mountains. The faith of a child.

Did you know that .41¢ could change the world?

Yeah, I didn’t realize it either…

Filed Under: faith, Grace, Kids, Kids do the darndest things, Ministry, Sloan Tagged With: Childlike Faith, faith, giving, Grace, Kids

To us, they really will always be kids…

July 31, 2012 by Kelli

It’s all Olympics all the time around here. I’m exhausted. If we could get a medal for dedication to watching and cheering on, I feel I deserve at least a bronze. I went to bed at ten last night after looking up the results online because I was just too tired to spend another night watching TV so that knocks me down a bit in the medal stand.

The Olympics are emotional. No matter who wins or loses, I find myself in tears almost every single time. Every race, every match, every event is the culmination of dreams come true for some and dashed dreams for others. We are watching lives unfold before our very eyes, and it is exhausting.

P & G’s Thank you, Mom series of commercials isn’t helping. This particular commercial turns me into a blubbery mess every single time.

The other one that messes with me is this one, because it’s true. No matter how old, or how big, or how great they become, to us Mama’s they’re frozen in time, the little ones who begged for nighttime hugs and kisses, one more drink, a few more snuggles and can I please sit on your lap, Mommy?

Their giggles are frozen in time, the freckles that dot their noses imprinted in our memories until the day we close our eyes for the final time. As much as I love to watch the athletes succeed, I love to watch their parents even more. With each twist and turn, each stroke made, each stride, the mothers and fathers who walked this road alongside them move. You can see the tension in their faces, the relief in their eyes when it’s all said and done.

Most of us parents won’t be sitting in those sidelines. Most of us won’t welcome home an Olympian or a Super Bowl Champ or a World Series MVP. Most of us will allow those dreams to foster in our kids knowing that it’s probably not really in their futures and we’ll be okay with it.

But we will all watch our children grow and learn and succeed and fail in different areas – maybe on a world stage, maybe in an office cubicle, maybe in a classroom or a mission field or a boardroom or as parents raising their own children. We will watch them grow and develop and become who they were meant to be.

And we will love them fiercely and deeply and proudly.

Some of us will be disappointed by the decisions our children make. We will sit back and watch them struggle and we will ache and cry and pray and long to see them crawl out of the pit that they have dug for themselves.

And we will love them fiercely and deeply and proudly.

As we drove home from Sloan’s football practice the other night, he shared with us some of his fears. He is not an aggressive child making football an odd choice for him. He’s built for the game and is talented enough, but his heart is so tender and competition is not really in his genetic make up.

But he wanted to play, so we signed him up.

“I’m afraid I’ll hurt someone,” he said. “And, I’m afraid I won’t do a good job and you will be disappointed.”

“Son, let me tell you something,” Lee said, turning the rearview mirror so he could look into the eyes of his first born. The one he loves fiercely and deeply and proudly. “You can make every single play, throw the ball perfectly and win the top championship in the world, and I will be so proud of you and I will love you,” he said and Sloan nodded.

“And you can miss every pass, fumble every ball, miss every tackle and trip over your own two feet the entire game, losing every game you play and I will be so proud of you and I will love you.” Sloan nodded again.

“There is nothing you can do on or off that football field that will change the fact that I am proud of you and I love you. Because you are my son and that’s all that matters to me.”

To us, they will always be kids. They will fail and they will succeed. They will hurt and mess up and get angry and they will still be our children.

I don’t need a gold medal or a championship ring or a World Series pennant to be a proud and emotional Mama.

Are you watching the Olympics? Are you as tired as I am?