The story below happened when my now 14-y.o. son was only three years old. It's a family story we'll never forget. I'm reprinting it from a previous blog post. Hope you enjoy it.
Every Christmas Eve, my wife and I take our sons to the children’s service at
our church. The service includes a kids’ pageant and our boys seem to pay closer
attention than they do during the typical church service. Also, we feel that
attending Mass on Christmas Eve provides a wonderful way to begin the holiday.
After the service is over, we go out to dinner to the one place open on
Christmas Eve, a Chinese restaurant.
While my wife and I believe every
family Christmas is special, we cannot conceive that any will be more memorable
than our last one. It was to be a big night as our older son, Andrew, was
finally old enough to participate in the Christmas pageant. He enjoyed two
rehearsals and getting into costume, admirably playing the role of a shepherd.
Because church seating at Christmas is limited and we wanted to take pictures,
we arrived almost an hour early to get a seat up front. We knew it would be
difficult to keep our pre-school age son, Christopher, seated for the long
service and the time before it. Therefore, my wife saved our seats while I
played with Christopher and kept him entertained. When it was close to time, I
corralled him and took him to our seats; he sat on my wife’s lap and anxiously
looked for his older brother and the start of the show.
Just before the
beginning of the pageant, the stuffy air in the crowded church became a little
more unbearable than usual. As there were several babies in the immediate
vicinity, my wife and I both thought one of them must have needed changing.
Catching the odor, Christopher said aloud, “What’s that smell?” He turned
around, looked at his Mom, and said, “That’s disgusting! Mommy, you stink!
Mommy, go to the bathroom!” We did our best to quiet him down, while the people
around us were suppressing their laughter. He continued on, repeating the words,
“That’s disgusting! Mommy, you stink! Mommy, go to the bathroom!” Eventually,
Christopher quieted down and the pageant began.
After Mass ended, we
walked to the car, buckled the kids in, and drove away. On the way to the
Chinese restaurant, my wife and I discussed the incident. She realized that the
words Christopher used in church were the same ones she had used with him during
his potty training. Also, we were convinced one of the babies close to us during
the service must have had a poopy diaper or probably just passed gas. We
chuckled about it. However, our little guy provided the last laugh. Overhearing
the discussion, Christopher, with the smile that only a young child can produce,
piped up with one more comment, “Oh, in church? That was me.”
Saturday, December 24, 2016
Thursday, December 24, 2015
A few years ago, my younger son (now a few weeks shy of 14) was approaching his likely last year of believing in Santa Claus. We’d spent most of the day following Santa on the Norad website. We tracked his every move, listened to the on-line messages, and did our best to figure out how long it would be before Santa hit the Atlanta area. With Santa en route to the east coast of the U.S., my wife and I put our younger son to bed, waited until we thought he was asleep, then put the gifts in place. My younger son chose that moment to wake up, saw me moving the gift, and ran crying to his room.
I tried to console him, saying I was just moving the gift for Santa. But childhood had been shattered and Santa was a lie. “Let’s pull out Norad,” I finally said. We opened the website and I got a blessing. The site announced that Santa had just left the Atlanta area. My son accepted my explanation of my moving the gift and held to his beliefs for one more year.
Now, though, I face holidays of a different kind. My older son, now a high school senior, is focused on finishing school and college. He’s down to two choices: Mississippi State and Georgia Southern. We’ve visited both so far. Wherever he chooses, I know he will do great.
However, I also know that life will now change. A band member throughout high school, my son plans to play in the band in college. If he attends MSU, he’ll spend every Thanksgiving at school, preparing for the annual clash with Ole Miss. Georgia Southern always plays football on Thanksgiving week. From either school, it is difficult to get him home and back with holiday traffic and not be concerned about his safety and being worn out. More likely, we’ll travel to where he is to celebrate Thanksgiving. Will Christmas be the same? Both MSU and GSU are in bowl games this year and may see that experience going forward. My son might make it home for Christmas or he might have a pre-Christmas bowl game to attend as a band member. Might we have to go to him for Christmas as well?
I only know one thing. We’ll do whatever it takes to celebrate as a family.
Tuesday, May 26, 2015
My older son got his license recently.
We made him wait long enough for it. We’d held him back since he received his permit, seeing numerous mistakes (like thinking he could turn left on red if the road was clear). However, when his permit neared the expiry date, we decided it was time.
We were nervous. I guess every parent is. But for my wife and I, we’ve always thought it to be a little more.
Our older son has a language disability. He processes speech slowly. Math and science give him very little trouble and he’s gotten to where he can handle History. Language Arts, though, is a class he’d like to avoid. It’s the way his mind works. He doesn’t make decisions quickly. He doesn’t process information quickly.Also, he processes without nuance. Doesn't affect him most subjects, except Language Arts.
We’d seen something similar in his driving habits. A steady drive he can handle. A drive in dense traffic left us nervous. Another driver being stupid scares the daylights out of us. Given how our son reacts, we worried he would make decisions too slow. Even after he got his license, we wouldn’t let him drive alone.
Yet, after a while, and with my older son’s pleadings, my wife and I hit a point where we knew it was time. Our son is a responsible young man. He would do his best.
We let him drive to his Boy Scout meeting first. Had him call us when he got there and call us when he left. Then we let him go to the library, pick up take-out, have him meet us somewhere. Short distances.
Then, on the last day of school, he was helping out with graduation due to him being a junior marshal. He wouldn’t be getting home until late. He’d been up since 5:00 a.m. I worried that he might be too tired to drive home. He phoned to say he was leaving and I waited in the garage until I saw the lights hit the driveway…and heaved a sigh of relief.
As for my son, he thought he worried about nothing. For him, he only wondered what took us so long to finally let him be on his own. He’d been embarrassed, waiting for his parents to pick him up at school events while his friends could drive themselves home. Being able to drive himself meant something to him.
Now he’s asking for a parking permit for senior year, saying every kid in his class drives to school. I told him we needed to wait until we got another car.
One of these days, I may be able to let go.
One thing at a time.
Picture from www.mycutegraphics.com.
Thursday, February 19, 2015
The late Tony Gwynn, one of the greatest hitters in baseball history, once wondered why so few people came up to him during practice to ask for his help. He wasn’t being cocky and saying he was an expert (and I think he was talking mostly who struggle with low batting averages) However, he was willing to help anyone who asked. When I first heard that statement, I wondered if those who played with Gwynn just studied what he did, even if they didn't ask.
So what does that have to do with me?
I’m involved in a Facebook party on Thursday night. I’ve been to a lot of Facebook parties before, but this is my first as one of the people talking. The focus of the party is the recent launch of Kindle Worlds fan fiction for the Body Movers series by Stephanie Bond. Last fall, I was contacted about being part of a launch of new group of fan fiction stories based on the Body Movers series by Stephanie Bond. I’ve since put out two stories, each the first in a series.
There are a lot of wonderful authors in the group, each with numerous published books and bestseller and/or award winner status. Interacting with this group has been, for me, like watching a lot of experts and trying to discover what I can (i.e. ways to improve my hitting). I’ve had the pleasure of reading their takes on the Body Movers series. As a writer and a reader, it has been an amazing learning experience.
The party begins at On Thursday evening, from 7:30 – 10:30 EST. There will be a number of giveaways and one lucky person will win a $100 gift card.
I hope you’ll stop by.
Click here to be taken to the party.