Six Basic Facts of Life

So much to write. I decided to categorize from light to heavy as I scan through several important facts of life.


Fact#1. You Can Count on Sand Shovels

Every spring I wonder how I could have forgotten how extremely difficult it is to homeschool when warm weather beckons the kids outside. The first thing they want to know in the morning is, "How soon will we be done?" It's really hard to accomplish anything like that, and then, of course, we have to be done early in order to make it to baseball practice anyways.

So, I left one of my young men at his desk yesterday...math book open...pencil in hand.

Fifteen minutes later I peeked in his door to find him sitting on his bed by his open window...chin propped on the window sill...just staring outside.

He sweetly turned to me and then he asked me an all-important arithmetic question...

"Mother," he said, "when are we gonna go get our new sand shovels for the beach?"

Oh, hummm...



















Fact#2. No Matter How Long It's Been...It is Still There.

It really is there.
I knew it was there.
But with the passing of time, I had begun to wonder.
But the other day, it boldly shone through...making up for lost time.
Here it is...




Ahh the lovely black flooring beneath my deluxe-triple-sorting laundry hamper.
Hello, my old friend.
It's nice to see the light of day today isn't it.
Soak it in, because come bath time.....well...we won't think about that now.



Fact#3. What's the Deal with Bags??


Bags. They seem harmless enough. However, coupled with girls they become quite bothersome.
Do all girls...Bag Things? Or is it just my girls?

When ever they can't find something...It's usually because they've "Bagged" it somewhere.





...Maybe we could bag up crayons and books...

...or bag up ALL of our pajamas because...who knows?

...or a stack of magazines

or maybe we could bag up books, cards, paper, pencils, toys, and our cooking apron with a spare pare of undies in the top of the bag for...for...well who knows??



You see my dilemma?
Every time I see them coming with "bags" to take along in the car, or play store, or play camping, or whatever, I tell them, "You know you are gonna have to put all that stuff back!"

Yeah. That may happen the next time the floor appears under the laundry bin again.



Fact #4. Brothers Love Ballet Recital.

Upon being "released" from the theater last spring at the close of his sister's ballet recital the eldest (then 18) remarked to my father, "Well, only 364 more days till we have to endure this again."

Last night around the dinner table, young men were threatening to bring paint ball guns to ballet recital...

Ahhh, my sweet Gracie....Momma can't wait for recital.
...and besides...the boys don't have paint ball guns anyways.



Fact#5. All Babies come from a Momma's Tummy.

It came out while she shoveled cereal into her mouth.


"Mother, where did Gracie come from?"

"God put her in my tummy."

"But didn't she come from China?"

"No, she came from here. From my tummy. She came from God just like you did, but we had to come to China to get you."

"But I wasn't in anybody's tummy."

"Yes, you were. You were once in a Momma's tummy too, just like Gracie. But that Momma couldn't take care of you and so she put you somewhere so I could come and get you, because we could take care of you."

"Oh."

It won't always be that easy.
How do you deal with the fact that your own flesh and blood gave you up for whatever reason...and that you can never know who they are?



Fact#6. A Brother is born to Help in Time of Need.

I watched them walk away.

Three boys.

Three boys that I love so much it makes my heart hurt. Oh, boys are good for a momma's soul.

One small, skinny, uniformed boy....Two tall, big brothers, one on either side.

Granted, it hasn't been easy. Seemingly overnight we went from having daddy around 24/7, working just down the street at any given moment of the day, home by 5pm, coaching all the boys teams in the evenings...........to having daddy working an hour away, not getting home until after practices are over, and even most games are over at night.

It was hard for everyone. But it's been a year, and the passing of time does wonders for adjustments.

But it's my youngest man I've felt for the most. He only got Coach Daddy for a few years. The big brothers got him for many. And I've felt really badly about it.

But last night, I pulled up to the curb just in time for batting warm-ups, popped the hatch and the sliding door....and three boys stepped out of the van. One small...uniformed and carrying his ball bag. And two large...set on making sure the small boy was warmed up properly and sure beyond any doubt that they knew much more about baseball than did the coach of the small boy. Their certainty cemented by the fact that they had been taught everything they knew by their daddy, and he was the best coach ever.



And as they walked up the hill toward the cage, the two big boys flanked the small one on either side.....

And I got tears in my eyes.
It was happiness and sadness. It was pride and love. It was a longing and rejoicing.

It was my big ones come full circle.

It was their stepping in to fill their daddy's shoes.

It was my big one, filling in for dad behind our youngest batter.



It was their thinking that the new coach didn't hold a candle to their daddy.

And it was this amazing way that they assumed the responsibility for the younger....and it was the way that they seemed proud to do it.