State of Obvious

Tonight we had to cut your hair.  Three (plus) years of growth all gone with a few snips of the scissors.  You see, you decided to cut a pony tail by yourself, aiming for just the rubber band, but slicing a whole lot more away. It was traumatic, more for me than for you.  Although you were sad for a little while and very worried about the teasing that might follow. It's funny how I'm all wrapped up in you.  When I was little I had crazy curly hair too.  (I still do but that's not really important to the story.)  My mom wouldn't let me grow it out.  It was too messy, too thin, too tangled and mostly just too much.  But, oh how I wanted long, luxurious flowing hair.  (I still do, but that's not important either.)  So here you are, my very own little girl, with hair that grows so slowly and bunches up so tightly it never looks very long.  It can look big, or crazy, or fluffy, but never long.  At least not yet.  I made u...

The answer to every question, every hope, every fear.  All wrapped up in two very different children.  And a spotted dog's backside.

Summer is coming, summer is coming.  I can feel it in the thickness of the air, in the heaviness of the sun.  I can hear it in the birds and crickets, in the motorcycles raging by, in the windows down breeze.  I can see it in the blooms, pinks and reds and yellows, popping up like happy thoughts.  When time moves in such a rush, it's hard to get your feet on the ground.  One moment you're baking cakes for a birthday and suddenly it's been a year and you're searching for one more candle in the drawer.  I keep marking off the degrees of growth spurts, the blank spaces that mark inches between, and I'm amazed.  I'm amazed. Sometimes in March I can't help but feel sad.  It's like the winter hasn't really left yet and one more snowstorm is looming over my shoulder.  This feelings lasts until April, coloring all over my birthday and leaving tiny scars.  But, then, it's almost May.  And things begin to lift - sunshine, flower buds, tre...

I've decided the hardest part of being a parent is the absolute absence of control.  At first, of course, you feel completely overwhelmed by just how much control you have.  Decisions about eating, sleeping, clothing, activities, schools - it can be overwhelming to make every small decision.  But over time, they grow up.  You blink and BOOM They're almost 14. They're thinking about how fun it will be to drive. They're looking at girls. They're staying home alone. They're making choices, choices, choices - not all of which you like very much. The control was all a cruel illusion.  And now it's gone. But, what is infinitely worse, is when you see the train wreck coming.  The little signs of trouble ahead.  And all different kinds of trouble. Perhaps I could be more specific. There's this boy at church.  Maybe there is more than one, I am not sure.  This boy likes to say things about my son.  Mean things.  Hard things....

Forget not that the Lord loves you I dream about things sometimes, you know?  Build big castles in the air, floating on clouds, sailing through the blue.  I wonder, what would I do?  With a million dollars - a thousand dollars sometimes.  If I was famous.  If I finally did write that book.  Happy, good, childish dreams.  Nightmares, too, but we won't talk about those. Have you ever sat and listened, just listened, to the in-out-in of breathing?  To the delicate way air flows in and sighs back out?  Have you ever felt the heaving in-out-in of a child's chest as they slept?  Right next to your thrumming heart, their warmth making you sweat.  Have you traced the gentle curve of their chubby cheek, moving so softly they twitch from the finger's kiss?  You should try it. I often get distracted.  Building those castles can be very time consuming, filling me up.  Eventually, I realize those fluffy dreams are not...

Becky McGee lived in a small blue house with green shutters smack on the corner of Allowiptus and Ash.  As corners go, this wasn’t a bad one to live on.  Ash was a quiet, two lane, tree lined street with flower beds and picket fences.  There were 13 houses on Ash in a variety of sizes and colors, but mainly white, off white, cream, and ivory.  There was a smattering of tire swings and plastic slides, one disheveled looking sandbox, and one house with boarded up windows that hadn’t been lived  in for a while.  Even this lone abandoned boarded up house was neat and prim with bright red shutters and an empty dog house out back,  just waiting. Allowiptus, for its part, was home to only a single house.  Becky McGee’s small blue house with green shutters.  The lawn was not very big, but not very small.  The flowers were bright, but not too bright.  A flag whipped in the wind on a tall pole out front and a lamplight was timed to turn...

Be You. No one else can live your life. No one else can do it just the way you do it. Happiness won't come from following me, it will come from walking your own bramble covered, lumpy, bumpy, underwater, smooth sailing, sharp turning road. Be Authentic. No one else can make your choices. No one else will choose the same things you do. Happiness will come from choosing right, and it will come from following your gut, even when it's wrong. Be Honest. No one else can tell you your own truth. No one else will see things just they way you do. Happiness won't come from what I say about you, it will come from what you say to yourself, so choose kind, gentle, loving, honest words to build you up. Be Kind No one else can fix the bruises you inflict with your words. No one else can undo the love you've shared with joy. Happiness will come from the soft moments, it will come in the stillness that follows a humble heart, so be ready to bend a little. Be ...