Not our Daddy

So, today, after a long and drawn-out shopping trip where my husband, 2 kids and I fought the wandering hoards of human debris to return and purchase items of absolutely no significance we passed an accident. No big deal. Lights flashed ahead of us; we pulled over to let 2 cop cars through. At first it looked as though the sea of blue and red would not part and we'd have to find an alternative route home. Mostly I was annoyed by the delay. It had been a long weekend and I really just wanted to be home having my Sunday nap.

I was being short with the kids when they asked what all the commotion was. MD was pulling on the back of my seat to get a better view and the scene ahead was just one more distraction in an already distracting day.

Not that I could blame the kids for rubber necking. Even a family on bikes had come out to see what was going on. A woman and 3 kids straddled their bikes on the side of the road, not the least bit concerned that they were in the way of the emergency vehicles trying to get through.

And then as the cops cut the traffic into one lane and let a few straggling cars get by I saw what had happened. Just to my right, not 10 feet away, lay a man stone cold on the road. The kids saw it too. I realized then that the biking family were not mere spectators, but witnesses to the accident. The victim their father, and husband.

Our car passed by fairly quickly but that 10-second image is something I will never forget. Dark brown hair, gray sweater and jogging pants; he was laying on his side, face turned away. His body was deathly still, a police man crouched beside him. Someone had put a white blanket under his head and it was soaked in a dark crimson.

MD said, "That's the dad who got hit mom." And I said a silent prayer that this would go away, not just for the unknown man's sake, but for his family, and for mine. I didn't want to think about mortality and how all of our hopes and dreams can be ripped from us in the blink of an eye.

So I said my silent prayer that the man would be okay, even though I knew he wouldn't. And I prayed for the family that they could be strong and not scared, even though I knew they couldn't. Then I took some deep breaths and reminded myself that I was okay, that everyone I loved was okay...this helped my anxiety some, until I heard Lou Lou say very quietly from the back seat, "I'm glad that's not our daddy."

Suddenly it hit all at once. It could be. For someone, it was their dad. Where moments before they had been a family now they were victims, lives changed forever. As a mother I live in a false sense of security, I think I have to to cope. I tell myself that if I make everyone wear helmets and seat belts and look both ways before they cross the street that I can protect them. Nothing can break my safe cozy bubble I keep wrapped around us, at least that's what I tell myself.

The truth is, we are all just one bike ride away from destruction in one form or another. Nothing we do can protect all of us all the time, and life is precious. I knew that today, and I've known it before. I'm sure there will be other shopping trips that get under my skin, times when my children are not my favorite people; life is just like that. But tonight, with my babies sleeping soundly in their rooms and my husband here with me, I am thankful for the fragile gift of life and in awe of the respect that it deserves.

The Eye of the Tiger

Uncle's Rock Star X box game- $200

Grandma and Papa's TV- $900

A cousin sing-a-long- Priceless

TRADITION!

Tradition runs strong through my veins, and never is it more evident than on a major holiday. Thanksgiving morning started with tradition the moment my eyes opened. MD and Lou Lou woke Charlie and me by climbing into our bed and we turned on the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade. We stuck it out for almost the whole three hours, just the four of us, two dogs and two cats on one king sized bed. About the 34 time one of the dogs spilled hot coffee on Charlie he asked, "Why do we have all these beast again?" The kids and I just laughed and I reminded him that they were to enrich our lives. To which he replied "oh" and mopped up the coffee off his chest.

Tradition continued all day, and more than once I felt like breaking out into Fiddler on the Roof...Tradi-t-i-o-n. And since, according to the official "Book of Tradition Rules" it only takes doing something two years in a row to become tradition, we have built up quite a few.

Pictures tell it best......

The kids table...classic tradition!

Relatives doing the bulk of the cooking...I love this one!

Auntie's ginger bread house's..each family gets one.

Love the football thing!

Over eating..you have to right?

And....... decorating for Christmas! This is my very favorite!!

Last but not least, turning off the lights and viewing the tree. I say it every year, but this time I mean it. This is the best our tree has ever looked....thanks to the day after Christmas sales last year, you guessed it, another tradition!

• I hope you all had a blessed day and gave thanks for much, whatever your traditions are!

Animal quote Monday

"A critic is someone who comes onto the battlefield after the battle is over and shoots the wounded."

Make a Smilebox slideshow

Home

The dictionary defines "home" as one's place of residence, but it is so much more. We have all heard the hundreds of cliches, home is where the heart is, there's no place like home, home sweet home. I am sure you can think of dozens more. And this time of year every commercial on TV urges us to go home, or buy something for the home, re-do the home so that your relatives will be impressed. There are candles, and food, and decorations designed to tug at our emotional purse strings, and yes, I have several of said items spread around my house. But none of these sayings, or purchases create a clear picture of what home is.

It can be all of those nice things. It can also be a mess, a bore, chaotic, loud. My home not only has the pitter patter of little feet, but sometimes the banging of doors, or the voice of frustration. Sometimes it has that deathly silence, you know, the one where you and your spouse aren't talking but you both know you need to.

Our home can be many things, depending on the day, the mood of the 4 inhabitants, the weather or even the season. But there is one thing home always is to me, and I hope for my husband and children too, and that's safe. Safe to be cranky, safe to be vulnerable, safe to be sad. We all need a place where the best of our personalities as well as the worst can surface and we will still be loved!

Spamming Around

These were some of my first students...they are 19 now!!!

whipped cream cheetos toss...don't ask.

Star power!

Jr. high class way back when..these kids are getting ready to start college now!

Look how seriously we took class.

So for the last umpteen years I have been a youth leader at my church. There have been many, many fun and wonderful times. The teenagers have taught me so much...and not just about God and life. Did you know Brittney Spears got her start on the Mickey Mouse Club?

Donald Duck inspired many of our youth to take up music...especially guitar.

I have been blessed to work with other leaders who were fun and childlike them selves. One of the very funnest times in my life was 4 years ago when Diet Coke, our pastor at the time, I'll call him Donald Duck, and I, were in charge of the junior through senior high at church. We spent many Wednesday nights playing stupid games that we strangely felt very competitive in. We developed a bond among the three of us that you can only get by working with a semi-dysfunctional group.

Guess which one puked before the night was over.

There were many nights of trash can basketball, scoot (a stupid, and frankly dangerous chair game) and also some good God content mixed in. There have been many trials and tears working with the youth, but also some great bonds that are still strong today. I would not trade a minute of it.

Starting last September I felt God calling me a different direction. I felt pulled toward the younger children...very young. After 7 years with Jr highers I moved to preschoolers. I love the little ones as well, but every now and then my heart yearns for the silly care free Wednesday nights with the youth group who was really teaching me about God instead of the other way around.

Spam Sculptures from last night

Last night the youth group had their annual "lock in". That is where all the teenagers gather at the church, we lock the doors, and hang on for a wild ride. If you are a kid it's great. If you are an adult, it can be hell. There is a no sleeping rule that is strictly enforced. Anyone dumb enough to fall asleep regrets it in the morning. Sharpie markers are used to prove a point, if you follow me.

Even though I am no longer their youth leader, I was honored when some of the kids asked if I'd still come. The kids there last night were in early grade school when I started working with youth. Many of the kids I started with are off and thriving in college, and I always smile when I think about where they came from, and the secrets I know about them.

first or second winter retreat...I forget.

Here are some pictures from last night's lock-in and also some moments in time from days gone by. To all the youth and youth leaders that have taught me what I know about teaching and life, thank you! That door in my life may be closed, but the memories will stay with me for a lifetime. Youth Rock!!!!!!!!!!!!

This is what happens if you take Diet Coke's diet coke in the morning!