Obstacles

 
I'm out of rhythm.  Can't seem to find a routine.  Every day is a different wake up time.  Don't know when to schedule in exercise, scripture study, or blogging.  I'm still reacting to everything as it hits me, instead of preparing for it's impact or perhaps even preventing an obstacle from slapping me in the face.  I'm hoping time will help me sort out our new routines. 

In the meantime, I wish my college boy was scheduling time for blogging.  He could write of funny stories that happened on campus, or detail what he ate for dinner last night, or acknowledge if he has clean clothes to wear or talk about obstacles he has to overcome.  I'd be a "follower" for sure, never miss a post, and maybe even make an occasional comment.  But since it's time to officially cut the apron strings, I'll settle for the occasional phone call.  I'll climb the obstacle that is called letting go.

Two Items of Business

Item One:

I was a substitute teacher for first grade today.  At the end of the day a child said to me:  "Mrs. Clark, you are so weird.  Promise me you'll never come back."  Nothing like a slice of humble pie. 


Item Two:

My son leaves for college in the morning.  Nothing like two slices of humble pie in one day. 

Press Forward

Phineas and Ferb are always telling me "there's 104 days of summer vacation. . ." but we only got 80.  My kids have already put a big, red X over 8 school days and only have 172 to go.

Schedules are crazy again.  Nights are short.  Days are long.  But there's one thing I have decided I must do, and that is press forward.  As Timon once said, "You got to put your past behind you."  You must learn from the past, mind you, then continue to press forward.  There is always hope in a new day.  Most things in life, dare I say all things in life, can be overcome. 

So as Kuzco and Pacha once said before they fell over a waterfall with sharp rocks at the bottom:  "Bring it on."

 

I Swear It's True

The Washington All-Star boys of summer made their way to San Bernardino today to compete in the Western Regional Baseball Tournament.  One of those boys happens to carry my DNA.

He called tonight to say they'd arrived safely.  Then he asked, "Mom, is this heaven?"  And I replied, "No, it's Iowa."

Kidding.

He actually said, "Mom, this field we're gonna play on is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my life. . .
besides you."

I swear it's true.