Thursday, October 22, 2009

When I Was a Kid

When I was a kid, I was the remote control and the rabbit ears adjuster and the foil on the ends of the rabbit ears adjuster. If there was nothing fit to see on our five stations, we went outside to play, or to our rooms, or to the kitchen to see what mom was making.

When I was a kid, gaming involved a board, some dice, and play money...or little cars with plastic stick people, or cards. And the entire family.

When I was a kid, the phone was attached to the wall, with a cord, in the kitchen, where mom and dad could hear everything that was said.

When I was a kid, a computer was a luxury, a bulky slow luxury. My school had some. My bank had some. My home did not.

When I was a kid, my jambox sat on my desk in my room - and it took up half of the space on the desk. And yes, it had an antennae. My music was not a secret. My cassette tapes were approved (and usually purchased) by my parents.

When I was a kid, dinners were around the table, not in the drive-thru. Everyone was present. The phone was taken off the hook and tucked into the dish towel drawer for that hour.

When I was a kid if I wanted to talk to someone, I had to TALK to them - either in person, or on the phone in the kitchen where, yep, my parents were listening.

Now, in my flat screen, high definition, surround sound, instant messaging, satellite empowered, hands free, fast food, texting, online life, what will my boys have for their "when I was a kid" memories? I think I'll unplug and have a picnic, outside, with my boys. And just talk and play. And make a memory while they're still kids.

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

My most important job

My boys amaze me. No, really. They're amazing. Our oldest is six years old and has the heart of a lion. He wants to be in charge. He must be in charge. He knows the rules and wants to enforce them. Oh, and he follows them the letter. He's not fond of change, but thrives in order. Getting information out of him is akin to pulling teeth - firmly imbedded teeth.

Our second son, on the other hand, is his own little man. While he's only four years old, he has his own personality, his own look, his own opinions. He can deliver a joke and incorporates Spanish into his speech on his own. (Thanks, Dora the Explorer.) He can also quote all of the books of the New Testamant. He paints exhuberantly, talks loudly, and runs at full speed. Where big brother is controlled, middle brother is enthusiastic.

And just as amazing is our littlest Golden boy. He's the "bonus round" blessing straight from the hand of God. At two years old, he's finding his voice. He's perfecting his fit-pitching wail and train whistle noise. He loves to imitate his big brothers and cousins. He also knows that he's the baby and uses it to his advantage at bedtime - "wanna rock...peeees?" (Who could say no to that??) He's a snuggler, loving and generous with hugs. And if I could bottle his giggle, I'd make a million.

The job of being their mom is far too important for me to fail.

Lord, please teach me to be the mom that these three very different boys need me to be. Help me to treasure each of them for the person that you created him to be. And help me to point them to You.