Monthly Archives: January 2024

Jan29

That’s My Boy

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My eleven-year-old son Alex is playing basketball through the YMCA this winter. A couple of weeks ago, his coach was sick and asked for volunteers to help out. It just so happened that my oldest son Jed was available to attend the game and decided to coach. Alex was thrilled at the prospect of his 6’5” tall, big brother who plays high school varsity basketball acting as his coach. Ben and I watched as Jed walked the kids through some warmups and then encouraged them during the game. Ben noted that Jed’s skills as a camp counselor were coming out in addition to his basketball talents. 

After the game was over, a father approached Jed. He said that his older son was an athlete who excelled in every sport while his younger son who was on Alex’s team was not as athletic. He then said that Jed was the first coach in any sporting situation that had looked his son in the eye and told him he’d done a good job. The father thanked Jed and told him that his son would remember that. I watched as the dad and Jed shook hands and tried not to tear up. That’s my boy, I thought. Except this week, that boy will be recognized at his senior basketball night and turns eighteen on the same day, becoming a man. One whom I admire and respect. 

Most people who know our family know about Jed’s basketball prowess. He’s been playing basketball since he was tiny.  As parents, we said we weren’t going to force sports onto our kids, but Jed has always been drawn to basketball. Thankfully, he grew into a big guy with talent who worked hard and stayed disciplined to excel at his chosen sport. But what many people may not know is that Jed is an outstanding student who knows almost everything there is to know about politics and history. He’s been soaking in those areas of study from the time he was in elementary school and can have deep conversations about the past and the future of our country and the world. 

And most people don’t know that he wrote his major college essay about his experience as a member of the Pastor Nominating Committee at our Presbyterian church. For a year, he served as the youngest member of the committee elected by our church to find our current pastor after an in-depth process of discernment and an exhaustive search. He was dedicated to his role and determined to do his best to find the pastor that could lead our church into the future. He proved he is a serious person who cares deeply about his community. 

On Saturday, Jed was able to attend Alex’s next game, this time as a fan in the stands. After the game, Jed found the boy whose father had talked to him the week before. Jed talked to him for a couple of minutes, and I watched as the kid wrapped his arm around Jed’s waist for a hug. Jed is a good man who will continue to nurture and support those around him. He will change the world, whether it’s the world at large or a little kid’s world. But no matter what, I will always be proud to say, “that’s my boy.”  

Jan22

Twenty Years a Parent

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Several of our friends have recently welcomed babies into their lives. A couple of them are brand new grandparents. Others are younger couples experiencing parenthood for the first time. Add to that my daughter Riley turning twenty years old this month, and I’ve found myself reflecting on parenthood quite a bit. If I’d been employed at a business for twenty years, I would get a plaque or paperweight in recognition. But as a parent, success is harder to determine. 

Twenty years is a long time to do one job. As in any role, I’ve learned a lot. I’ve changed a lot. And the position was very different than what I expected. If on day one of parenthood, someone had shown me who I’d be as a twenty-year parent, I would’ve been surprised and disbelieving for many reasons. Honestly, way back at the start, I thought my children would be a lot like me as a child: fairly docile, shy, and compliant. Anyone who knows my family knows that is not a description of any of my children. Instead, they’re fun, loud, and irreverent. They’re super smart and opinionated. They’re very different from one another and yet share many of the same familial traits. They’re kind and care about others. They are real, authentic, and genuinely themselves. For a minute on this journey, I tried to blame my husband Ben for one of the children’s stubborn behaviors. I thought I was paying for something he’d done in his childhood. Then, one day during that child’s rant about the unfairness of his world, I realized I was looking in a mirror. He’d inherited his need to rail against injustices from me. Ultimately, I wish I’d been more like them when I was younger. But I hope that my evolution as a person has benefited them. Becoming more flexible and open has allowed me to parent them in ways I couldn’t have foreseen twenty years ago. 

Not that it’s been easy to relinquish my controlling nature at times. Riley and I spent her entire junior year of high school at odds over who should be in charge of her life. I thought if she would just do what I told her to do, how I told her to do it, she could proceed with less heartache, less pain, more happiness. Ben continually reminded me that Riley was not me. That Riley was raised in a different time and place and that her experiences were not mine. I knew that intellectually. And yet, it was so hard for me to accept. My desire to protect her and keep her safe overwhelmed me and proved difficult to moderate. Both Riley and I learned so much that year about one another and how to be in relationship with each other as she matured and asserted her independence. I learned that I still had a role to play in her emotional and social development, but the way I went about it was important. My expectations about that stage of parenthood were idealistic and ultimately unrealistic, but we survived and have a deeper and more fulfilling relationship now. Adapting may not be easy for me, but when it comes to my kids, I’m determined to eventually find my way. 

It’s strange to think that when the newborns we know reach the age of twenty, Riley will be forty! And if I’ve learned anything, it’s that time really does feel like it goes by in the blink of an eye. I’m looking forward to the next twenty plus years and the privilege of watching my kids grow into the adults they will become. And I know that I’ll continue to change as well. I can’t wait.   

Jan15

We’re the Weasleys

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Recently, we hosted Jed’s varsity basketball team for dinner at our house. I spent a day and a half cleaning and decluttering in preparation. In keeping with my tradition, I also spent a good amount of time fretting about how our house looks in comparison to everyone else’s museum quality, magazine ready houses. Because in my head, that’s what we’re up against. Sparkly, new, organized, beautiful, tidy homes that do not need any work or repairs, have no closets containing the things they want to hide from guests, and remain spotless no matter how many people live there. The anxiety I create about having people over is compounded by the imaginary perfection I assume everyone else maintains. 

But lately, and especially, during my preparation for this dinner, I’ve adopted a new mantra: “We’re the Weasleys.” The Weasleys are a fictional family from the Harry Potter series by JK Rowling. They become Harry’s surrogate family because he was orphaned and then mistreated by his guardians. The Weasleys have more children than we do – we have four, they have six, but each family only has one girl, and the rest are boys. And while none of my children inherited my ginger hair, all the Weasleys have red hair distinguishing them amongst other families in the wizarding world. Some of the snooty wizarding families look down on them. Their home is cozy, cluttered, crowded, and a bit crazy. Loud – definitely loud – with conversation, teasing, yelling, and laughter. They adopt numerous friends as family. Never, ever attack one of the people Mrs. Weasley cares about because she is the ultimate mama bear. The moment Harry arrives, he feels he’s found a home.  

That’s what I hope and pray our home is like. If you dropped in on us unannounced, you’d probably find a basket of unfolded laundry in plain sight, and school papers, laptops, and cups (oh the cups) on the tables or kitchen island. Backpacks and shoes, so many shoes, strewn about. The TV is on, and someone is probably loudly watching YouTube on their phone in competition. Blankets and decorative pillows are all over the couch if they’re not on the floor. The dogs will bark because they want you to pet them. No need to be intimidated here – there are no antiques or valuables to worry about. In fact, we had two plastic basketball goals in the foyer for over ten years because it has hard wood floors and resembles a basketball court. Some things, like the towel and toilet paper holders in the powder room, are broken or missing altogether and are on a long list of to-dos that never get done.  

And yet, we are real, and I hope, welcoming. I will hug you, like Mrs. Weasley, most every visit. We are loud no matter our moods, raucous, and irreverent. More than once I’ve told my people that we aren’t hiding our crazy well in front of newcomers. Yes, we ask a lot of questions, but it’s because we care. I wish I had Mrs. Weasley’s magical ability to conjure up food, but you’re welcome to snacks and drinks, and we can always order take-out. Just ask for whatever you need. 

I hope people feel comfortable in our home, and most importantly, loved. That’s what really matters, right? That’s why the Weasleys are a beloved family in literature. They love their family, and they love others whom they treat like family. So, when I’m starting to spin about all the things that are not perfect about our home, I will try to pull myself back to reality by remembering a fictional family. “We’re the Weasleys,” I tell myself. I certainly hope so. 

Jan8

In the Bleak Midwinter

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Taking down the Christmas decorations makes me sad. When we decorate the weekend after Thanksgiving, it is a family affair. Everyone is excited for the upcoming holiday season, and they want to put “their” ornaments on the tree. We have a lot of ballerina and basketball ornaments, in addition to ones commemorating vacations and special events. But putting the decorations away is a solitary endeavor. I end up organizing them into boxes by myself. I become more nostalgic and a bit melancholy remembering the first Christmases and the trips when my children were little. The house is less festive. We must readjust to the ordinary. 

And while we might have high hopes for the new year in many respects, the return to our normal routines of school and work can be disheartening. The weather turns colder and grayer as the sun is less prominent. In Texas, we’ve experienced some ice storms in the past few years that have produced electricity outages, rolling blackouts, and the inability to leave home. We can suffer more loneliness because we have fewer opportunities to gather. Our busy schedules during the holidays may slow so that time feels like it is creeping along. We may find ourselves physically sick from illnesses that make the rounds in the winter or from stress and exhaustion after the holidays. We may find ourselves struggling with depression or seasonal affect disorder. 

Becoming aware that some of us suffer through the early months of the year is important. First, this awareness can help us if we start to slip into these situations. We don’t need to assume we are overreacting. We can’t dismiss our issues or keep powering through without dealing with our mental, emotional, or physical health. Many people don’t take their own health seriously enough, and this can lead to more dire problems later. Second, we must be cognizant of what is happening in other people’s lives. Isolation is a real problem that crops up when we feel disconnected or down. We need to check on our friends and reach out to those who might not have others on whom they can depend. Simply knowing someone else cares may prompt them to ask for help. Just a text telling another that you’re thinking of them can be the bright spot that gets them through the day. 

One of my favorite Christmas songs is “In the Bleak Midwinter,” which imagines harsh winds, frozen water, and “snow on snow on snow” long ago during Jesus’ birth. I only learned about this song as an adult, so I think I better understood those feelings of longing and scarceness the author Christina Georgina Rossetti expressed. At the end of the song, she asks what she could give Jesus compared to the shepherds and wise men and determines that poor as she is, she can give Jesus her heart. When we take care of ourselves and others, we express the love of God and serve with our hearts. Let us look out for one another because we may offer the only warmth that another person feels in the bleak midwinter. 

Jan1

Spinning

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Last night, we held our New Year’s Eve lock-in for our youth group at church. We ate, played games, watched a movie, celebrated at midnight, and then slept over in the church building. I bought a pack of 200 soft, fake snowballs, and we had an epic, indoor snowball fight. Then we got out the preschool’s flat scooters to play a version of Hungry, Hungry Hippos in which one person lays on the scooter and collects the balls and the other person directs them by holding, pushing, and pulling their legs. At one point though, my son Clay, who is 14 and 6’2”, laid on the scooter by himself, as well as his frame would allow, and began spinning himself around and around. I told him he was going to get dizzy but took a video anyway. He finally stopped and appeared somewhat winded from the exercise.

When I watched the video again today, I thought about how Clay’s spinning can be like life at times. We feel as though we need to give our attention to everyone and everything. Going in circles but unable to truly give our focus to anyone or anything. We are left feeling dizzy, scattered, and frazzled. Sometimes, life circumstances create this situation for us. But if we’re honest with ourselves, we often impose this on ourselves. We take on too many projects. We overschedule our calendars without including any downtime for ourselves. We still fall for the false narrative that being stressed is the equivalent of being successful. That if we’re busy, we are important and have value. That anxiety is a sign of productivity. That the only pursuits that are worthy are those we can monetize. 

At this time of year, we make resolutions, many of which require adding things to our to-do lists. But if we don’t evaluate our currently crowded lives, we may be setting ourselves up for the vertigo of an even crazier itinerary. Saying yes to something new means less time for something old, and maybe that’s a good thing. But to make that determination, we need to assess our overall circumstances – what stays, what goes, and what is added. Can we slow down a bit to savor life more instead of whirling into a new year? Can we take pride in resting? Can we devote ourselves to family and friends? Can we celebrate play and the pursuit of hobbies for no other reason than enjoyment?  

I think we can. We can reassess our priorities and choose how we want to approach this year. I don’t want to look back on 2024 and feel that it was all a blur. I want to be intentional in the way I spend my time. We can reduce the amount of spinning. I believe in us. Here’s to a Happy New Year in which we become happier people because we are more conscious of how we spend our time and attention, and most importantly, those with whom we spend it.