Sunday, May 30, 2010

Patsy and Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day

I've had a bad week. I lost my drivers license. Actually threw it away in a bank envelope, that much I know. But three dumpsters later, not luck. And the dumpsters were preferable to the drivers license office. I lost my keys, in the story below I left that part out, but in all my ER visit excitement I lost the only set of keys to Steve's car we have. Because I lost the other set several years ago. Anyway, to put a cap on a emotional (last day of school, high school graduation) week, an exhausting week (Steve's 50 mile run for MS, I went to all but one aid station, drove his volunteers back to their cars and ran the last 10 miles), Thursday was the perfect end to this kind of week. So thankful for the holiday weekend.
Once a month my group at work goes out for a “team building” lunch. We take turns choosing where we will eat. I chose Carlos O Kelly’s and Freddy’s Frozen Custard on my turns to choose, but some of the people I work with choose a little more upscale restaurants and fancier cuisine. Yes, I have now eaten actual "cuisine", as opposed to my Freddy’s. When I was growing up if I had said “pesto” my parents would have washed my mouth out with soap because they have no idea even now what it is. Simple people, that's us. We were goulash and mac n cheese and chicken and noodles. So imagine my surprise the first time we ate at Bella Luna (Mediterranean fare) and my boss bought the appetizers (he always does) and I tried Hummus, and went straight to Quik Trip after for Benadryl. Bonefish (seafood) did this to me also, so I’m guessing it was the sauce, because seafood doesn’t usually bother me. Last Thursday our lunch was at Mike’s Wine Dive. Kind of Cuban with a Latin American twist, or so our waitress told me. I wouldn’t know the difference. I ordered my usual lunch at restaurants I've never been to, hamburger and fries. I live on the edge, people. The appetizers come and a plate is set in front of me with breschetta. I didn’t order it, I didn’t look at it on the menu, someone put food in front of me, and I ate it. Three bites in my mouth starts itching and my throat is itching and swelling. No one has any allergy meds with them. So I walk the half block to Gessler’s pharmacy to get Benadryl. All the time it’s getting worse. I grab a bottle of children’s Benadryl (liquids work faster) and have it out of the box and open by the time I get to counter. I’m drinking it straight from the bottle while she runs my debit card. Clerk is a bit of a comedienne and says “I guess you don’t need a bag?” I walk back to the restaurant begging God to let the Benadryl work faster than the Pesto. Half a bottle should do it, right? But this was a prayer he didn’t answer. It was selfish. It was all about me and my personal pride. I sit in the restaurant getting hotter and hotter. Using every ounce of will power I have not to scratch. I have my jacket off and my shoes off under the table. Where my bra and the waist band of my pants fit I feel like I’m on fire, but good judgement prevailed and I did leave my bra and pants on. One of my co-workers looks at me and says you don’t look good. (I KNOW.) Another one comments that I’m red and swelling. (I KNOW) I say I’m going to call someone to come pick me up. One of my co-workers is taking the afternoon off and she lives two miles from me and she says she will take me home. Awesome. We ask for our checks, make the waitress wait while we pay and I beg her to hurry. (My co-workers were surprised the next day to find out I had food allergies. After four years, they still don't know me. I'm generally pretty careful.) When we get to Ashley’s car she asks the fastest way to get to my house. I tell her take me to the emergency room. Her driving was not the safest, and for a mother of two toddlers I’m guessing this was unusual for her, but the speed and urgency was much appreciated. I’m already feeling humiliated that all my coworkers have seen me this way. As I sit in her car and take off my shoes and unfasten everything constricting I have on and hold the seat belt away from my body (but I am wearing it) I start making phone calls. Steve doesn’t answer. I leave a voice mail “food allergies, St. Francis ER, please come”. I get a text back that says “in a meeting” which means he didn’t listen to the voice mail. I text the same message. Ashley drops me off, offers to come with me, I say no, she pushes a little, I still say no (pride anyone?) and I walk through the doors of the ER. I felt terrible on the way, but standing up and walking made it worse. I walk up to the check in desk and my throat is swollen, my voice is raspy and hard to understand, I’m coughing and I’m swollen and red and covered in hives. I say “allergic reaction, I’m gonna pass out.” They tell me to have a seat (behind the counter) and I ask if I can lay down on the floor. I was in a wheelchair in less than a minute, and if all this hasn’t been humiliating enough, the ER waiting room was full (FULL! Tons of people) of staring, curious (angry that I got the next room) people, and then, I had to ask for a bucket. Still in the check in area. I heaved everything I had eaten for the last four days. They shove those oxygen tubes up my nose (which blowing oxygen straight up your nose is cold and makes your nose hurt) gave me an epinephrine shot (that’s a whole lotta fun) two more full doses of Benadryl, even though I showed them my bottle of children’s, and a shot of something else. Then one of my three nurses, (I must have been much worse off than I thought to get three nurses), asked what I ate, and since one is an amateur chef (okay, maybe not but she makes her own pesto and in my book, that counts), she told me it’s the pine nuts. And then they all lectured me to not eat it again. I may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but I won’t eat anything new ever again without checking the ingredients. I got lectured by the doctor that this is a “deadly” allergy for me because my sats were 85% when they brought me in and still dropping. I don’t know what this means so I ask. Normal people (which I am one) should be at 100%. Smokers and emphysemics are at 91-92%. Interesting side effects, the Benadryl makes me drowsy. The epinephrine makes my heart race, my hands and legs shake and my teeth chatter like the Halloween wind up teeth. So I fall asleep, but any noise, movement or light flash, no matter how quiet or subtle, makes me wake up like I’ve been shocked. I lived through it with strict instructions to go straight to the ER next time, or use my epi pen at home and then go straight to the ER. Not sure why I felt the need to share this with you all, but thank God for co-workers, doctors and epinephrine.

Friday, May 28, 2010

Conversations with Whitney

Setting: 8th grade awards, Steve is sitting next to Maddie who is next to Whitney
Just in case you all think Whitney is the way she is because of my genetics...

Announcer: “The award for blah blah blah goes to name 1, name 2 and name 3.”
Steve: looking at Whitney, holds his finger and thumb up to his forehead in the universal symbol and whispers “Loser”.
Announcer: “The award for blah blah blah goes to name 1, name 2 and name 3.”
Steve: looking at Whitney, holds his finger and thumb up to his forehead in the universal symbol and whispers “Loser”.
Announcer: “The criteria for this award is…”
Steve: “Not being Whitney Baker”.

And then, Steve asks Denae (one of Whitney's besties/beasties) if she’s going to eat her (dry) chicken and (instant) potatoes and she says no and he takes her plate and eats her food too. Steve and Denae did make it through a whole meal together without throwing food at each other.
In all fairness to Whitney, the 8th grade team leader told me after that Whitney is number four in academics, and if she had made any effort at all... So I talked to Whitney who says, "those girls are geeks. They study all the time. If I can be number four and hang out with my friends all the time, why would I study? An A is an A". Yep. This is my DNA in her. How can you be proud of number four and disappointed at number four all at the same time?

This is a repeat picture, but Denae is the beauty next to Whitney with the matching red flower in her hair.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Today is the day...

I know last year I talked tough about my kids, one ending middle school and one ending high school and how it’s passage of life and I wou;d be celebrating it. And I’ve done well this month. Haven’t cried hardly at all (which for me is a big deal). Last baseball game of the year? The only tears came when we had to drive back home from Dodge City. Longest stretch of highway in the world. Or at least it feels like it. Senior Awards? The only tears were when Coach Wheeler stepped to the microphone (Coach Wheeler is Whitney’s friend Regan’s dad, Regan is the one that died in the golf cart accident in March and I still get emotional over their loss). 8th grade awards, my tears were because I paid $23.00 a plate for dry chicken breast and instant mashed potatoes.
But today I’m feeling a twinge. It’s the actual last day of 8th grade and tonight is Nate’s graduation. No tears, but I'm feeling some pangs that could be assuaged by dessert. Good thing I made cupcakes and sugar cookies for open house tonight.

Tuesday, May 25, 2010


The end of the school year has been filled with awards ceremonies. I’m all for recognizing and celebrating what our children have accomplished. Nate won some awards and coach said some nice things about him. But that's not what this is about. I want you to meet a special boy. This is Ross.

Ross lettered in baseball this year. He was the manager. He wore a jersey. He sat in the dugout. He encouraged. He cheered. He told the boys when they made an error. He kept stats and pitch counts. I loved it when they gave him his letter last night. I was sitting next to his mom. I could see Ross' face, and it brought tears to my eyes. The school and the baseball program were good to Ross. And so were the team. But Ross was good for those boys.

Monday, May 24, 2010

Weekend Review

Regional baseball tournament
Lost, disappointing end to the season, but my Nate had already made his peace with the fact that one player had killed them all year and did so in this game too. Two more high school events, baseball awards tonight, and graduation is Wednesday night.

8th grade awards dinner/formal
Food was less than I had hoped, some baked chicken with apple stuff and potatoes that were not really good. The green beans and salad were good, though, and it was fun. She thoroughly enjoyed the dance too.

Steve 50
Steve’s fifty mile run was a huge success. He had eleven volunteers run with him. One followed him and took video footage and pictures, can’t wait to see it. Seven volunteers for aid stations. And he almost doubled his goal fund raising. It wasn’t a disease changing amount, but it was more than we could have ever donated ourselves. Thirty mph hour Kansas wind with gusts up to 45, and the hottest day of the year so far. I don’t mean it was 5 degrees hotter. Temp jumped 15+ degrees in two days. With 4 miles left Channel 12 news came out and took video footage and did a segment on the 10:00 news. He ran 50.25 miles. His right foot is blistered pretty good, but no sore muscles, and he is looking forward to his next run, a half marathon in June, and his next marathon in October and his next ultra in November.
Birthday party

We missed the surprise birthday party we were invited to. I was very disappointed.
Softball game
Blisters made Steve make the (good) decision to not play.

Friday, May 21, 2010

Conversations with Whitney

Setting: Church, Sunday morning before 11:15 service

Whitney: (addressing our worship pastor) “move! You’re in my way.”
Pastor: laughs at her and says to me “you have the sweetest children.” Looks at Whitney and makes threatening motion.
Whitney looks at him and makes a “bring it on” motion.
All I could think was how grateful I was she didn’t say “I will light you on fire.” It’s a catch phrase of hers.

Weekend Preview:
Regional Baseball Tournament Friday at 2:00. Win and play again at 7:00. Lose and all done for the year.
8th Grade Awards Banquet and Formal Friday at 6:00. Will eat dinner, and then if Baseball is in game 2 will head back for that game.
Steve 50 is this Saturday. He exceeded his fund raising goal for MS. He also has three volunteers to help with aid stations and 10 volunteers to run with him. 3 for 10 miles and 2 for 15 miles. Then a finisher’s party for Steve and all the volunteers after. He has some really great friends. Some of the volunteers are my friends, so I have some really great friends too.
Birthday party Sunday
Softball game Sunday – yes, he will play softball the day after he runs 50 miles. We are also compatible in the area of insanity.
Monday – will post some pictures of the weekend events.

Thursday, May 20, 2010


Last Friday was senior breakfast and awards ceremony. Monday Nate had told me not to come, he wouldn’t get anything. Thursday he said I might want to come. He was getting two academic awards and a baseball award. Academic awards were for completing the highest course of study. Not GPA, but number of credits and courses taken. The other academic was for his scores on state assessments. The baseball award was for Outstanding Senior Athlete. It’s the only picture I took that remotely resembles people, so I’m sharing it with this commentary. He is next to the basketball girl and boy, then bowling, cross country, etc. I was proud of many of these kids, Nate’s friends, Whitney’s friends older brothers. There were kids that only received academic awards. There were kids that only received music awards. There were kids who received some of each. Although it is hard in large high schools to be involved in music and sports.

I’ve spent 4 years riding him about his grades and his GPA. I found out after the awards, AFTER THE AWARDS, after 4 years of harping, that I’m more proud of him for decisions he made in high school that I didn’t know about till he was done. Things that will carry over to adult life. There were 8 seniors on the baseball team. He was the outstanding player. In academics, he needed 22 credits to graduate. He was well over that. He never took easy classes. Even senior year when he needed 1.5 credits, an English and half a government, he took a full load. He did take weights, mandated by baseball coach but when he could’ve taken swimming and team sports and cooking, he took physics and pre calc/trig to be better prepared for college. Instead of padding his GPA, he learned something. In reading the Gospels again, I thought of this passage (and then backed up to verse 12 because it’s always worth hearing) Matthew 7:12-14 “Do to others whatever you would like them to do to you. This is the essence of all that is taught in the law and the prophets. 13 You can enter God’s Kingdom only through the narrow gate. The highway to hell[a] is broad, and its gate is wide for the many who choose that way. 14 But the gateway to life is very narrow and the road is difficult, and only a few ever find it.”
The reason this stuck out to me is there is 1800 kids in the high school. Less than 200 received awards. And the academic awards were there for everyone. They could have given one to every student. The hard way, the rewarding way is often narrow and not an easy path. The easy way is wide and well traveled. The Bible is so full of wisdom for life. Even though I know this is talking about our Salvation through Christ, there is only one way, through the blood he shed on the Cross to cover our sins and pay our debt, and that the path to hell is wide and many go that way, it has so many parallels in life. One out of every nine students received an award. The narrow way. The way of hard work and character and discipline. The narrow way is not always fun. But the rewards of the narrow way are well worth the effort.

Tuesday, May 18, 2010


This morning within five minutes I got texts from two friends canceling activities with me. One for her daughters high school regional softball tournament and one for a kindergarten soccer rain make up game. You know what I say to that? Great moms. In fact, if the softball game wasn’t in Lindsborg, KS I would be going. Hang out with my friend, watch her daughter play (GO HORNETS!!!) I am never upset or even disappointed when a friend cancels me for their children. That’s what is supposed to happen. I think I would be upset if I knew they were with me instead of their kids. There are moms who don’t put their kids first. I know some of them. It leaves a lasting mark. And while some kids play it off that they don’t care, they do. I know they understand when there are more kids than there are parents that someone is going to miss something sometimes. And there are things (like work) that keep you from being everywhere you want to be. But to choose a friend over your kids would send a message I would never want my kids to have. And so I am thankful for these two women who are purposely making their kids priorities. However, I have an opening tonight if anyone wants to run 8 miles with me.

Friday, May 14, 2010

Conversations with Whitney

Setting: Church lobby leaving to go to car. *Names have been changed to protect the innocent teenage boys.

Whitney: What is on Bob's* face? Is that a beard? He's not old enough for facial hair.
Me: He's a year younger than Nate.
Whitney: It looks terrible. He needs to shave his neck.
Whitney: John* will never have to worry about facial hair. He wore velcro tennis shoes too long. Like in 5th grade. If you wear velcro tennis shoes too long it can affect your manhood.

Thursday, May 13, 2010

Storm Warning

Busier than a one legged man. That’s me. I keep trying to simplify and slow things down, but my life seems to be like a snowball rolling downhill. Too many clich├ęs? If I’m honest it’s not the busyness that bothers me, it’s the busyness being for everyone else and getting in the way of what I want to do. I really love my family and love being where they are and taking care of them, but sometimes the inner child just screams “WHAT ABOUT ME?” For me to reach this point conditions have to be favorable, everything comes together for the perfect storm.
It’s like our weather lately. We’ve been under a tornado watch several times. For the native Kansan, that means continue on with what you’ve been doing; while conditions are right for tornadoes to develop none have been spotted. (Think of the little boy who cried wolf.) Then there is the tornado warning but the tornado is two counties away and moving your direction at 60 mph. To the native Kansan, this means go outside and look West for the tornado. Then there is the tornado warning accompanied by the sirens and alarms and the newscasters saying it’s heading right at you, take cover. This is where the native Kansan remembers Andover and Greensburg and heads to the storm shelter. Now imagine I’m that tornado…Tornado watch, give me a diet coke, something sweet or a whole pizza, or let me run 10 miles and the favorable conditions dissipate. Tornado warning two counties away, do the dishes or the laundry or pick up your socks or wait a day to tell me your feet have grown yet again, and the storm will blow out before it gets to you. When the sirens and alarms go off, my family takes cover. And like the intelligent people they are, they know it’s their fault. Like the insensitive obtuse people they are when it comes to mom and her feelings, they have no idea why.
I have seen the wonderfully positive video of the woman talking about how she is happy to be invisible for her family. It’s very moving. During a full moon when my favorite jeans fit and I had 7 uninterrupted hours of sleep, I feel that way too. And I know super moms who are always positive and upbeat and happy and my kids are great and my world is great and I love life and I want to know, what are you on, and can I get some? Actually I think all the women like this that I know have children either under the age of 9 or over the age of 22. Completely reliant on mom for everything, or able to take care of themselves. I’m not going to go into all the things we have going on that make me really busy. Everyone is busy. And I am completely aware that I bring most of this grief on myself. I can say no. BUT THEN I MIGHT MISS SOMETHING!!! This requires an explanation. I trust my kids. I know their friends and their friend’s parents. I even know Nate’s boss on a first name basis. (He dated my college roommate. The boss, not Nate.) I trust Steve. Completely, totally. But I find out after the fact things that have happened or things they’ve done or places they’ve been (not vacations, just lunch with friends, etc.) and I feel like I’m missing out. So I make myself crazy to be a part of their life, even just as a spectator, because my world is wrapped up in theirs. Everything I do is for them. I work, not for career satisfaction, but for money and health, dental, optical, and orthodontia insurance. I cook, but again it’s for my family. And I clean, and if my family wasn’t there, I wouldn’t have to do as much or as often. Which is why they have so much power over me. They can hurt my feelings like no one else can. They can also make me the happiest woman on the planet. They affect my emotions like no one else can. And the alternative to their power over me is loving them less. Not going to happen.
I really spent a lot of time thinking about this week, because I have a great family, yet I can get discouraged and depressed. So what am I doing to help the woman who is not married to a great guy and who’s kids are in trouble? Maybe she has it all together and isn’t quite the nut job that I know I can be, but maybe she’s faking it. Because I pretend too. I pretend that life isn’t overwhelming. I pretend that I have it together and I’m in control. I don’t think I’m fooling many people. This verse has always made me laugh, in the KJV Genesis 3:16 says “in sorrow thou shalt bring forth children; and thy desire shall be to thy husband, and he shall rule over thee.” In other translations it’s pain and not sorrow, but when I was a kid I thought it meant you were sorry you ever had kids, and husbands were kings. That could’ve been the fundamental Baptist church I grew up in. But I’m not going to end with scriptures about child rearing and about being a wife, or even how my children and husband should act, because they really treat me good. Matthew 16:24 says “Then Jesus said to his disciples, “If any of you wants to be my follower, you must turn from your selfish ways, take up your cross, and follow me.” (NLT) I have to turn from wanting my way and making everything about me. When it says take up your cross there is no way I can take that to mean it’s going to be easy. And I’m going to finish with this from Proverbs 6:6-11 “6Take a lesson from the ants, you lazybones. Learn from their ways and become wise! 7 Though they have no prince or governor or ruler to make them work, 8 they labor hard all summer, gathering food for the winter. 9 But you, lazybones, how long will you sleep? When will you wake up? 10 A little extra sleep, a little more slumber, a little folding of the hands to rest—11 then poverty will pounce on you like a bandit; scarcity will attack you like an armed robber.” (NLT) Work hard, keep busy. I can see a parallel to parenting in this. Work hard for your family. Provide for them. If what they need from me is clean laundry and dinner, it’s an investment that will pay long term dividends. If they need me sitting on the sidelines supporting them, cheering for them, aching for them when things don’t go their way, bringing them Gatorade, then that’s where I’ll be, making that investment. If my only important job to my daughter right now is French braiding her hair every night so she has beautiful wavy hair for school the next morning, she is worth it. So if anyone out there feels unloved, unappreciated, forgotten, invisible or like a storm that is about to erupt, you are not alone, and this is not wrong. It’s what we do with it. I’m having pizza and cake.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

I have learned...

Never take exlax and benadryl together.
Egg salad is not good pre running food.
You can sunburn in 62 degree weather wearing capris, flip flops and a hoodie.

Friday, May 7, 2010

Thursday, May 6, 2010

Who Am I?

I heard a song the other day that really made me think. Scary times when my brain gets going. "Who am I that you are mindful of me, that you hear me when I call. Is it true that you are thinking of me, how you love me..." I know I'm taking it out of context, because the song is about being a friend of God. But what I started thinking is all the times I get discouraged over the answers to my prayers. Or lack of answers to my prayers. Or basically not getting my way. The fact that God hears me, and would even answer one ONE prayer is amazing. If the only prayer he ever answered was the one that gave me salvation and eternal life it's more than I deserve. Of course there have been more, but when I think of the question, "Who am I that you are mindful of me?" It's not a pretty picture. I'm a sinner. I'm not good in and of myself at all. And yet he loves me. In all his perfection and holiness, he loves me. He does good things for me. He hears me. He shows me in real ways that he loves me. It's a hard thing to remember sometimes, when I'm feeling low and selfish and believe God has the power to do anything but isn't, that he hears me. He's thinking of me. He loves me. And he is never going to give me everything I want. But I intend to remember that there is nothing I can do to make him love me any more, or any less for that matter. I need to live my life for him because he gave his son for me.

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

Sometimes I miss the pumpkin

Or alternately titled "Thank goodness there were no cell phones or internet when I was 21."
I got a text from my brother that told me he was telling a friend the pumpkin story. My pumpkin story. When I was 21 I had a friend who was in the band "Bitter Sinatra". What, never heard of it? He is still a friend, but now the band is "Naughty Astronauts" and they are not a family friendly group, to say the least. But I digress, as usual. Halloween my 21st year, Bitter Sinatra was playing a huge Halloween party. I was a groupie. I was "with the band". My friend married a good friend of mine and was also friends with my brother, we were a tight group. This party had huge jack o lanterns with the bottom cut out instead of the top. And one was cut perfect to fit my head. I could even see out the eye holes. And I wore it most of the evening. I wasn't in costume, so it looked even funnier. I got on the dance floor with a real pumpkin jack o lantern on my head. I had everyone in stitches. Mostly because I didn't plan to be a jack o lantern, I just went with it. I do still remember how bad my neck and shoulders hurt the next day from wearing a 20 pound pumpkin. I'm not that girl anymore. I'm twice her age. I don't think I'm fun any more either. I get pretty bogged down with life. Same night as pumpkin text came in, Whitney wanted to go to the Y with a friend. I told her no. No reason other than it's a 15 minute drive there, back, and then back to get her. And Steve said "but you never say no." And I took that as criticism. It wasn't. But sometimes I miss the care free girl in the pumpkin. Oh sure, I had my own apartment and job and paid my own bills and insurance, but I lived for me. What I wanted to do. What I wanted to eat. Where I wanted to go. If I wanted to buy a new pair of shoes with my grocery money and eat a hot dog every night of the week for dinner to pay for them, I could. There were not trips to Walmart to buy poster board for science projects and protein for the husband and breakfast food for everyone.
But as much as I say sometimes I miss the pumpkin, I hadn't thought about it since the last time someone reminded me. Because while those were good times, and easier times, the rewards of life now are so much greater. Today I saw the framed poster on the wall in the cafeteria at the middle school today honoring the 2009-2010 undefeated middle school volleyball team. It will hang there forever. With Whitney's picture and name. I made cookies for the baseball game dinner between the double header tomorrow and finished addressing graduation announcements tonight. And when I think about the last 18 years, I wouldn't trade my memories of Nate and the life he has and the potential he has (God help him use it) for all the pumpkins in the world. This post comes after I saw to beautiful young ladies post on facebook; one turning 25 and one turning 29, and neither was excited about it. I'm on the other side of 40 and I wouldn't go back. I used to hear that and wondered how old people could feel that way. Now I know. Because one evening in my life, just this one evening was full of positive things about my family. Good things.
And if there had been cell phones and internet 21 years ago (or at least like we have them now) this would be on the web for all to see. I'm kind of glad it's not.

Monday, May 3, 2010

I have learned...

Drive through lanes with a sore (useless) left hand are not a good idea. I dropped a large iced tea, but the kind lady at Mcdonalds made a second one for me at no cost.
I could not open a bag of cereal, a bag of cheese, or a bottle of diet coke. I switched to cans (of diet coke, not cereal) just for this week.
It took me 3 times as long to load the dishwasher. This may have been because I was one handed, or it may have been because by the time I was ready to wash them there were 3 times as many dishes.
I can type faster one handed than the majority of people I work with. I already regret the fact that they know that.
Adults can have the same reaction of fever and crankiness to a tetanus shot that a baby can. Twelve days later my arm is still tender where I got the shot.
Sixteen days later my hand is still sore and twitchy.
Self inflicted Injury does not illicit sympathy from a 13 year old and a 17 year old. (Or my 19 year old nephew.)
This did qualify as a dumb dumb wound. “Dumb dumb wound – an injury sustained while doing something dumb or doing something dumbly.”

Sunday, May 2, 2010

Mt. Everest

I offended someone with my post on Mt. Everest. I apologize, because my intent is too never offend anyone. My point was not that people who don't have children don't know anything, in fact it was just the opposite. You can have all the knowledge in the world. But without practical exerience, that knowledge doesn't mean a whole lot in many areas. I would say a youth pastor would have all kinds of knowledge, as well as practical experience. But I have raise 4 teenagers and number 5 is 13. I cannot treat number 5 the way I did 1 through 4. Even with day to day, minute by minute experience with them I did things wrong and I did things different.

BUT MOSTLY!!! This was written because I work with people with no kids, ever, no spouse, ever and when I have an issue with one of my kids they have all the answers. And I only talk about issues when it affects work. Like I'm late or have to leave early.

So I sincerely apologize for offending you.