Friday, March 28, 2014

Picking Daisies

There he was in the outfield, legs crossed, a blade of grass hanging out of his mouth, dusty hat with the bill turned up like Gomer Pile. He would have been picking "daisies" (actually dandelions) except that he had already picked that area clean. His older brother at shortstop wasn't much better. Hands loosely dragging in the dirt, he was doing everything BUT watch for the ball. If not for the uniforms and the cries of "hey batter batter" from the other children in the vicinity, you would've thought they were out for a day to play in the park. As a highly competitive person, their complete disinterest and lack of focus in a sport they've begged to play completely bothers me.

I think of the bruises on my body from diving after a little white ball, the wood burns from scrabbling for a loose basketball. I think of how last fall as I was busy falling from destroying my achilles, I was already kicking myself for not stretching out a few more inches to bump the ball over. Not to mention that the whole reason that I'm recovering from the second surgery on my right leg is because I got my second serious sports injury.

And then I think a little farther back to a little blond girl climbing a tree in her soccer cleats. During the game. Because she was bored of waiting to be substituted in. And I'm pretty sure that same little blond girl has picked a daisy or two, even if she doesn't remember it. So now she is grown and she both grins and shakes her head at the antics of the little blond boys. Some day they will come into their own and discover that competitive fire. In the meantime, grab the telephoto and keep the photos in the memory album. Because all too soon they won't be little boys picking daisies any longer.

Wednesday, March 19, 2014

Thankful This Year

   Wow, I have a ton of posts that I've started but haven't finished! I'm not going to sit and contemplate what that says about my personality... Instead I'll check what was supposed to be a Thanksgiving post and hit "post."
   It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. It was a year of gladness and rejoicing. It was a year of struggle and frustration. One year ago I announced with extreme joy that we were having a daughter. The long- awaited answer to several year's worth of prayer. But around that time I also started my struggle with preeclampsia and had already ruptured my Achilles. And the hard times were only going to get worse. Those things were most definitely not in my plans.
     That whole situation...my preeclampsia became bad enough that I was hospitalized and sent home on bed rest around 32 weeks gestation, and had an additional extended period (over three months) of being off my feet after surgery, I can't say enough times how blessed I was during that time period. I never want to go through something like that again. Ever. *shudders.* But I've also never felt so loved. I had two different friends clean my bathroom. I had more people than I can count from my church offering to come over and help with laundry and cleaning. My parents stayed for a while and helped Ryan work on the house and my mom stayed for a loooooong time to take care of the children and me. And while I was sitting on the couch for my second bed rest with my leg up feeling like a useless blob, God continued to provide for us. Quite literally out of the blue, He gave Ryan an amazing job opportunity.  I was reminded again, as I watched my husband work long hours during the harvest season and then come home to work hard to take care of us, what an awesome man he is.
     In the middle of what seemed the longest period of my life, I had tons of time to spend with my three beautiful children. This was the longest maternity leave I'd ever gotten (7 1/2 months!) and the longest period of time I'd been able to spend with the boys since my first summer in the PTA program. (which would be 5 weeks in 2008. Yep, a while ago.) I was blessed to cuddle with my children and watch my boys enjoy being big brothers as well as love on my new baby girl.
     The fall saw my little boy Landon take a big step in growing up and go to kindergarten. Big brother Nathan took little brother under his wing and explained all the rules of school. :) And just when I thought I was going to go positively, absolutely, crazy from being on forced bed rest, my surgeon cleared me to begin walking, and shortly thereafter, to go back to work. And the rest of the year has been us as a family acclimating and finding our new "normal."
     In a year of emotional, physical, spiritual, and financial, hardship, God also brought joy, love, friends, comfort, and blessings. I NEVER want to go through a year like this again. And I'm a little tired of doctor's offices... But I can be thankful for this last year.