Monday, September 19, 2011

To Lars with Love

To my now four year old boy; the one and only Lars,                                                     18 Sept 2011

To the one that Papa called a Bulldog from the moment he laid eyes on you at 6 hours old.  To the little boy who never emptied cupboards, drawers, closets or the refrigerator.  The one who never took clothes that I just folded into their drawers and spread them all over the room, or took towels from underneath the sink and unfolded them all into a pile to lie on.  The one Who never took the stack of Dixie cups from the sink and crushed them each one individually and rendered them useless.  To the one Who never found the Tupperware shelf absolutely irresistible, or the bottle of soap a sheer necessity to squeeze all over onto the counter. To the one who didn't dump the bookshelf daily or empty the blanket box just for fun. 

To the one Who is never too curious about anything, really, or too mischievous to get into much trouble.  Who is no longer stuck to my hip, but is away at Head-start now, learning to conquer the world without me.  

To the boy who cries a lot, cuddles a lot & knows every part of a John Deere tractor.  To the boy who loves Cars Cars and can call each character by name & sight from 10 meters away.  

To the little boy who can hear a train, plane or automobile 45 seconds before anybody else can.  

To the boy who has a memory that would rival brilliance.

To the little boy who takes my bible every Sunday in church and flips the pages just to hear the 'swoosh' sound it makes, but will cover his ears to the 'hiss' of an oxygen tank in the distance.    
 
To the boy who has now become so self aware, it makes me wonder if he's not just a little bit smarter off and better grounded than all of us combined. 

To that little blue lifeless body that didn't have much hope about him four years ago, Happy Birth Anniversary.  

You're going to have to work a little bit harder in life than some, but you'll be Ok.  I love you very much.

Mommy

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Sarah goes racing

Allen and I had a deal: If he went to my high school reunion in Michigan, I'd go racing with him for a day. He went to Michigan with me in August. Saturday, I went racing.
Don't pay attention to that clenched fist, Brent.  It's all good.


Driver? Check.
Fire suit? Check. 
Helmet? Check.
Hans neck brace? Check.
Five point seatbelt? Check.
Emergency shut off valve?  Nope, no idea where that went.
Slow down button?  Non-Existent.
God be with me? Check. Check.

The Rev, The Driver, The one who talked me into this...


Now, I've always said that I'll do anything once and I've kept my word on that in just about every equation. In this case, once was definitely enough!  Or maybe I just need to try my hand at driving instead?? 

It started out faster than I was comfortable with, but I soon got used to that.  I kept telling myself it was like an amusement ride that would soon be over and I'd feel that rush of, "WOW!  I want to get back in line and do that again!"  

And then I was reminded that, unlike an amusement ride that has been designed, engineered & built by professionals, a ride that goes through vigorous maintenance & safety checks throughout the day with empty cars, is operated by people with lots of training (or so I pretend) and people who get paid to be safe, this was an amateur driver (sorry honey) in a type of car he'd never been in in his life, let alone driving one, and that I was essentially a guinea pig. I closed my eyes at some point, praying for safety. It was at this point I really wanted to get out.  

All my yelling, "honey, can you slow down?!  Can we take a break?! Can you stay away from the wall?! Stop the car! You're tires are slipping, and We need to go home!" fell on deaf ears due to the ROAR of the engine..... and then, as quickly as it began, it was over. 

In the end, I walked away in one piece with a smile on my face.  

As my mother will say, "Cross that one off your Bucket List!" 
In good spirits and with a smile, no less!
Thanks to the Holliday's for a fun afternoon, Grandpa and Grandma Strawn for coming to watch, and my dear Allen, who would never put me in harm's way without a really good reason.  143.  Thanks for bringing me home to my children.

The Debate

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