The Mother Son Dance

Last night was the 8th grade dinner and dance. I’d use the term “dance” loosely. There was a DJ. We were in the gym. The lights were up as bright as they could go and one parent of each child was required to stay through the dance. The kids on the dance floor were in a large clump. Every now and then some of them would come out, sweaty.

I guess I don’t remember what dances were like for me when I was this age. I don’t recall a sweaty clump of kids. We had a ballroom in my hometown. I think we used the full space. Continue reading


Little Kids in Big Bodies

A couple years ago I was dropping something off at school and I happened to be there at dismissal time. The 5th graders are the crossing guards and I walked past a couple of them just behind some 8th grade boys. “Ugh, 8th graders!” one crossing guard said under his breath. I thought it was funny and mentioned it the teacher next to me. She smiled and commented that 8th graders are still little kids…in big bodies. Continue reading

Rain = Happiness

When I woke up this morning – after sleeping in far longer than usual – I heard the rain. Somehow, it just made me happy. Maybe you share that deep-down-happy-rain feeling. It’s almost genetic. It’s a feeling of peace that comes with growing up a farm kid.

I know we’ve had a dry year and as these storms pass, they make many of us happy. Continue reading

The Most Amazing Moms

I started writing thank you notes this morning, to some of the amazing moms that I know. And then it occurred to me that I would never finish the job in time for Mother’s Day….the job of personally recognizing all of the stellar moms that I know.

First there’s the mom from our church who went to Africa a number of years ago and decided to do something about the children she met there. She started a charity to educate the orphans there. Sure. That’s on every mom’s list: do laundry, get groceries, build schools in Uganda. She’s amazing. I don’t even know her very well, but she’s always friendly, and her hair is never even the least bit messy. Mine would totally be if I were in her shoes. Continue reading