Friday, April 03, 2015

Soccer, Easter and nervous breakdowns

Well, Rebecca's first soccer game got rained out. I was actually disappointed - I'd packed a blanket and chair for me and snacks for the girls... Oh well. As my friend, Traci, assured me, there will be plenty of other games.

Hopefully they won't play on this field:

Makes me think of the one hill in FLAT Bowling Green State University that we had to do soccer skills up & down.  To FUNNY!

Jim Gaffigan on Easter - gotta say I'm with him:




Show week for Homeschool Performing Arts begins today. This picture perfectly describes how I feel:

I Dont Have Time for the Nervous Breakdown That I Deserve Masterprint

If you're in the Lansing area and don't have a church home, I'd love for you to join us on Easter: University Reformed Church.

Happy weekend!



Wednesday, April 01, 2015

Three for three

For as long as I can remember we've had a rule: our children can play one sport each season, and that sport must be an indoor sport. Indoor sports are generally played in climate-controlled venues. Outdoor sports, not so much. Rain, snow, blazing hot days make up outdoor sports' weather. Therefore, basketball or volleyball are Duffy-approved sports. Soccer: not much. 

Michael was the first to mess with my no-soccer rule. But he didn't love the game; all he wanted to do was look at the cars in the parking lot next to the soccer field. He was ten and a Duffy, so we cut him some slack - but we also didn't sign him up for the team again. Then in her junior year, Amy decided to give soccer a go. So much time had passed between our first experience with soccer that I forgot what outdoor sports are like. One game and I remembered… I instituted the, “No Outdoor Sports” rule once again.

And yet, I took this picture in my car last week:

Know what those are? Those are soccer cleats. Guess who’s going to wear them? Rebecca.

She suckered me and good. About four weeks ago she casually mentioned that some of her friends were going to soccer conditioning practices and they’d invited her to go along. “I can go but not join the team,” she said. She was so non-committal about it that I believed her. After going to a few conditioning practices, she said, again so casually, “I think I’d like to try soccer.” And in a moment of weakness, I said yes.

What is wrong with me?! We’re now three for three – all of my children have played soccer. My no outdoor sports rule is clearly merely a suggestion.

Tomorrow I will drive an hour from home to spend the afternoon at a soccer field watching Rebecca play in her first game. I have a sneaky suspicion it won't be her last.





Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Morning joy

My dear brother-in-law, Rodney, reminded me of this Psalm yesterday. It's a perfect fit to my thoughts about our move and says exactly what I wanted to! What a wonderful reminder that mourning doesn't last forever. Not a bad thought for this Easter week as well.


Psalm 30
Psalm_30_5_3x5I will extol you, O Lord, for you have drawn me up
    and have not let my foes rejoice over me.
O Lord my God, I cried to you for help,
    and you have healed me.
O Lord, you have brought up my soul from Sheol;
    you restored me to life from among those who go down to the pit.
Sing praises to the Lord, O you his saints,
    and give thanks to his holy name.
For his anger is but for a moment,
    and his favor is for a lifetime.
Weeping may tarry for the night,
    but joy comes with the morning.
As for me, I said in my prosperity,
    “I shall never be moved.”
By your favor, O Lord,
    you made my mountain stand strong;
you hid your face;
    I was dismayed.
To you, O Lord, I cry,
    and to the Lord I plead for mercy:
“What profit is there in my death,
    if I go down to the pit?
Will the dust praise you?
    Will it tell of your faithfulness?
Hear, O Lord, and be merciful to me!
    O Lord, be my helper!”

You have turned for me my mourning into dancing;
    you have loosed my sackcloth
    and clothed me with gladness,
that my glory may sing your praise and not be silent.
    O Lord my God, I will give thanks to you forever!

____________________
Photo credit: Fueled 





Monday, March 30, 2015

My MI Anniversary

Last Friday marked the 10th anniversary of our move to the Great Lake State. A decade. Three thousand six hundred fifty-two days. A bazillion seconds. No matter how you count it, it’s a long time.

Y’all know the story – Sean got transferred, we packed up our stuff, our three babies and ourselves and moved 800 miles away from everything I’d ever known, loved and held dear. The novelty of the move wore off quickly and it felt like my life was over.

I know that sounds melodramatic, but dang, y’all, I was a mess. It didn’t help that it snowed on my first Michigan birthday. In late April. Snow. On. My. Birthday.

If 44-year-old Christy could talk to 34-year-old Christy, she’d say, “You only think your life is over. Yes, you’re crying daily right now, but in the very near future you’re going to meet some great people. You will have a church family. You’ll go to lunch with dear friends. You’ll have people to pray for and people who will pray for you. You will not always feel like you do right now.”

Younger Christy wouldn't have believed Older Christy – she would have kicked her out and told her to keep her rainbows and sunshine to herself…

Describing where I'm going with my hand.
HT: Rant Lifestyle

Sometimes we just have to live through stuff. I lived through the days, then months, then years, and all of a sudden, a decade had passed. And Older Christy was right: I have lovely friends; I have a wonderful church home; I have people to pray for and people pray for me.

Perspective is a wonderful gift. Problem is, we usually don’t have it until we've lived through a whole bunch of crud. And it’s hard to claim someone else’s perspective as your own. But if you’re going through a bunch of yucky, please cling to my perspective: it really won’t last forever. Things do get better. Not overnight. And it might take years. But it will get better.

If you need some hope, cling to mine. And pretty soon, you’ll have your own to offer someone else.

So, Michigan, happy 10th anniversary. A really sweet anniversary gift would be some spring-like weather. So if you could get on that, I’d appreciate it. 





Friday, March 27, 2015

Socks and sandals and spaces

After my post about Amy's socks and sandals, my cousin-in-law Christina sent me this:



But to be clear, nobody is bringing back socks and sandals. Nobody. Even the socks agree:

no

And because there wasn't enough fuss about one space vs. two:

FunnyEditor
H/T: Dana Leipold


Happy weekend!









Wednesday, March 25, 2015

Socks and Sandals?

When I kissed Amy goodbye on that first day of college, I knew she would face challenges. Challenges like managing her time, making friends and learning lots of new things in her classes. Those are challenges all moms know their kids will face, challenges we’re ready for. And for the past seven months, she’s done an admirable job navigating her new world. Sean and I are beyond proud of her.

Or, at least I was until I saw her on Monday. She needed me to bring her something for an audition. We met between home and her campus – when she stepped out of her car, I saw this:


Y’all, I raised her better than this. Socks and sandals? 

“I wanted to wear my sandals, but it was too cold, so I put on socks,” she explained.

While I credit her with being smart enough not to go sock-less in 30 degree weather, I also credit her with a horrible style decision.

Of course, this matters not a wink to her. Which makes me even more proud. Because it is way more important to me that she be confident enough to wear what she likes than for her to blindly follow fashion trends she doesn't.

Her choosing that combo makes me wonder if she is blind...

So, Amy, now that I've expressed my admiration for your ability to choose your own style, can we agree that socks and sandals shouldn't happen again? Pretty please with closed-toe shoes on top?






Monday, March 23, 2015

One space, people. One. Space.

There are a few people in my life who have a problem with communication. A serious problem. It doesn't affect their speech - just their written word. It’s so grievous that when I receive an email or text from them my eyes twitch and I get a little nauseous. I've endured it as long as I can, but now I must alert them to the issue in the hopes that they put a stop to the nonsense:

QUIT PUTTING TWO SPACES AFTER A PERIOD!

Now, in the grand scheme of things, is this a huge issue? In light of world hunger and natural disasters, does this issue really warrant a blog post? Yes, yes, a thousand times yes.

This graph will explain the issue:


The confusion is understandable. In high school typing class we learned to put two spaces after a period. But let me remind you that if you're close to my age, we attended typing class in the last century. It’s time to pop on into 2015 and stop double-spacing at the end of sentences.

If you are guilty of Double Space Syndrome, please, take time today to commit to stopping. Just think of the energy you’ll save over the course of your life – those thumb-taps on the space bar don’t just happen. You have to work those thumbs. You’ll also extend the life of your space bar.

Anyone who reads your written word will thank you. And you’ll have the satisfaction of knowing you've entered the 21st Century. A few years late, mind you, but better late than never.


If I haven't convinced you, please peruse this piece from Slate. It offers a history on the two-space issue. It's an excellent read.