Coaches

I am so thankful that our boys have always had some of the most selfless, kindest men as their coaches. In a day of age where we see a lot of men step out, it warms my heart to see these men of character step up to coach a team.  As parents we see- but don’t always understand, the time they miss with their own family, the cold meals they reheat, the hours they spend trying to be sure that each player gets equal and fair playing time, and all the other big and little ways they sacrifice for children that are not their own. They demand hard work, and positive attitudes from our little people, they expect diligence, and tenacity. They teach hard life lessons that stress the importance of losing with class and dignity, and winning with humble hearts and pride in a game will played. These men teach that schoolwork comes first, that your teammates are your brothers on and off the field or the mat, and that you walk off the field knowing you did your best, every single time. They are teaching confidence, and determination, pride and an empowered sense of self. The magnitude of their influence has yet to be completely realized.  The lessons these boys learn under their guidance will stay with them into adulthood and hopefully then many of them will fondly reflect upon what strong leaders they had for coaches and sign up to coach the next generation someday.
Thank you Coaches!!!!

Whats up Chicken Butt?

I have written a similar post because I want to introduce you all to my newest obsession....
meet the freshman 15...

Big Betty

Gertie

Gustie

Greta

Henrietta

Hazel

Colonel Potter

Corporate Klinger

Gary

Radar

                                   

Margaret Hoolahan

Grandma Fluff

Maxine

May

Millie

Edna

Rhonda

Well actually there are 17.  Two more were given to us after I nicknamed them the Freshman 15, and the name was so clever it has just stuck. Yes friends, what started as just getting 6 chickens for a backyard hobby turned into 17 extra members of our family.  They follow the kids around the yard and have brought so much joy to our family.   Gavin says nearly every day "I just love having these chickens." He even named the roosters and one of the hens after characters on MASH.  We let them out every morning and they go back in their hen house in the evening at sundown.  They have a little outdoor porch to their house so they can go outside whenever, but most of the time you will find them hanging out in the yard eating bugs.

Ball game perspective.

This year at Karter's yearly neurology check up i asked nervously about him playing tackle food ball this fall.  His sweet little doctor who held me in her arms nearly 10 years ago looked me in the eyes with the kindest of smiles and said

"I think he do whatever he want, he a normal boy you very lucky no one can tell there was ever anything wrong with him, he just normal boy." 

My heart flipped. Normal boy. All those years ago I sat in a hospital room with this little person that God had trusted me to take care of, listening to news that completely rocked me off my axis.  I asked what that tiny infant had in store for him for the rest of his life.  I worried about things that mothers shouldnt have to worry about, my fears were scary and hiding in the corners of the darkest places.  I wasnt sure this baby was going to survive his first year, and that he would be taken from me as quickly as he had been given to me.

"You no let him have any fever and you no let him have any injury to his head."

If there was little I knew about parenting at that time it was that babies have fevers and kids hit their heads.  We waited and watched the rest of that year, watching the little spot on his little brain for change and growth, as each year passed, we worried a little less.

This year Karter asked, and begged, and pleaded for me to let him go out for tackle football with the rest of his friends in his class. "no let him have any injury to his head," kept playing in my mind over and over again. I worked up enough bravery to call her office one day to ask permission and she was out of the country and unable to answer.  Our yearly checkup rounded the corner and nervously waited.
Normal boy. His seizures have been gone the majority of his life, thanks entirely to God, an outstanding neurologist, and a great little drug. Nobody can tell by any outwards appearance that anything is anything but normal. Is he delayed, I believe so, but not an anything that matters (his teachers think he has sloppy handwriting- this is most likely due to low fine motor skills,) but we are thankful for that too. This facebook status popped into my timehop this morning and reminded me of all that we have to be thankful for.