When letting go broke my heart wide open.

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I didn’t expect this major life lesson this week.

I thought we had the week covered: we had a weekend to ourselves and spending it together: our most valued commodity: time as a family. Homeschooling. Work week would commence shortly.

And then I got a call from my husband as he was taking care of some business from his Air Force desk with our eldest in tow. {I only presume he actually has an Air Force desk btw, I mean, stripes Must allow for an actual desk, right?}  The phone call was not- “hey- can you look up so and so dates for me? like I expected. It was a, “Hey! There’s a guy here who needs to sell his dog! Guess what? It’s the dog- puppy- you want, honey! Do we get him?!?!?!” phone call.

Gulp. Questions question questions from wife.

This is me thinking to the Jeapardy! tune…. Think hard Falls, think hard.

So we got said adorable German Shepherd ball of cute and ball of energy pup delivered to our door. Little did we know that waiting inside was a very frightened – unbeknownst to even herself- 3 year old. She really – thought- she wanted a puppy and had turned the “I’m afraid of doggies” corner. No. She had not. And then our little guy took cues from big sis and it was kinda mayhem in our house.  We made All of the classic mistakes introducing this pup to our kiddos. All of them. In hindsight- 24 hours later, had we known they would be so afraid we would not have gotten this dog. But- I learned a very very valuable lesson out of having this sweet guy in our life for a day. That no matter what, even if it is the dog of my dreams that I never ever thought was within the realm of reality for us, that our kids come first. They need to know that. The one caveat – that they do not come before our marriage.

So I woke up in the middle of the night and found some amazing puppy training resources for him and thought and thought until I was 4 am hungry and could finally rest after reading enough and downing a yogurt. Phew. Back to sleep so that I could poooosibly deal with the morning that was sure to arrive all too soon.

This morning arrived with husband waking to get pup out and us fighting over logistics and daughter and little guy seriously screaming at the top of their lungs from atop the kitchen table because pup was looking in their general direction. Le sigh. Poor pup. He seemed so eager to please and there was just no having it from the two littles. None. And a broken hearted mama and dada. So daddy had to make the hard call and try to get the previous owners to take him back. Uhhhh- no go. They were like- peace out suckahs. And did I ever feel suckered- even tho we weren’t. And did I ever feel like a jerk. Even tho we really wanted to keep him. It turns out you can’t force a child to change his fear into non fear because of your desire for it. It also turns out that we – Jeff and I had to put on the parent role and take care of our kids. Suffer for them. Love them thru our suffering. Lift up our suffering to the cross and ask Jesus to take it for us. And to carry our own crosses. I mine and Jeff his. I had to be nicer and stop snapping at him. This was not his fault. I had to lift up my sadness and ask Jesus to take it for His holy purposes and especially for our daughter that she might come thru this with love and patience and a desire to do God’s will in her life.

It turns out that lifting up your children is the hardest thing. Abraham did it, didn’t he? But wow, me? I often hide them under the bushel. I can lift up anything, I find- except for them. I am too afraid to let God into that place where I think I have it all covered and under control. How can He help, I think underneath it all? Why would God actually care to carry MY children when I’m supposed to be doing it? — It turns out that I don’t. I don’t have it all- not by a long shot. But also- and more importantly – that I am better when I realize that I don’t need to have it all covered or controlled. Our priest asked recently what it is that we keep to ourselves and don’t let God into our lives with. This is mine. My kids. I think I do. I tell myself I do. But I don’t. I’m selfish and want to do it all myself. I think I’m supposed to -and that if I don’t do it all I’m an abject failure.

I am not a failure. You- if you are reading this- somewhere relating- are Not a failure. But I have to let God into those places that I keep to myself. Those moments I deem too precious for anyone but me. I would do well to let my husband into those moments, too. And not play the martyr SAHM when he comes home from work. I succeed sometimes, but I could definitely do better.

So I found that we could get the pup re-homed to a good home and the seller is giving us and incredibly generous “credit” for when we are ready and have the right breed in mind for us all- and approved by kiddos.

I also found Christ in this little animal. In his eyes and his pawing at me and in my kids’ pleas to get him away and in my yearning for him to stay with us and in my husband’s easy smile with him and in letting him go to a new home. I cried some serious tears like I haven’t cried in a while for the loss of something or someone. I cried for wanting to be a better Christian and better wife and better mother and better me and for letting it be in God’s hands for once.  Last night before the dog came as I was preparing the house a little, I prayed that this dog would teach me about love and about kindness to grow spiritually. Our son named him Patrick because it was St. Paddy’s day yesterday. Sometimes God answers your prayers in such unexpected ways, doesn’t He? Unexpected indeed.

This song played as we were driving home tonight and helped me remember that it’s okay to feel. God gave us feelings. And to trust in the Lord.

 

St. Patrick, pray for us.

 

 

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So my daughter wants a Wonder Woman costume.

AWWoman

Now, if we could juuuust give you a Complete outfit that would be great.

 

KidWWoman

Something more like this. Yes, let’s try this. Modest, cute and still tough.

in fact, you know who’s costume I like?

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“WordGirl title card” by Source. Licensed under Fair use via Wikipedia – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:WordGirl_title_card.jpg#/media/File:WordGirl_title_card.jpg

 

Why are little girls dressing so immodestly? Well, my actual answer is the birth control pill and abortion, but that is another post.

I was with my kids at their dentist last month waiting next to the door, it was about 30 degrees outside at best. A little girl about 7years old, came in with her Mom and brother, the girl was dressed in sandals a t-shirt and a mini-skirt. I kid you not. We are in Colorado, mountainous Colorado. Not Florida or California. My heart just broke. I saw myself so long ago in this child and just wanted to tell her and her Mom that there is so so much more. That God has given us so very much more. And that we won’t get what we really desire by dressing and living this way; to be in union with God the Father but only help Satan in his quest for evil and hatred among us and within ourselves. All I could think was that this little girl is probably learning like many of us have, that you have to get by on looks. Period.

This Christmas, one of the  books my 5yo son got was a Batman book.  Cool, Batman is a good guy I thought. I Like Batman. He stands for good overcoming evil. Then somewhere around page 4 I see Wonder Woman’s boobs and butt as the Main focus of the page. My kids just don’t see women drawn like that , much less in movies or on Veggie Tales. Gah! What the HECK is a Mom supposed to do!?

Let’s get one thing straight. I’m not ashamed of women or of our bodies. I believe that God gave us beauty in many different forms, not the least of which being to catch the eye of men. God made men the visual beings they are and he made women, well, totally awesome.  But I am Sick, And Tired of Superhero women drawn like sluts. Yes, dressing like a prostitute or a scantily clad rock star is Not going to get us anywhere, nor will it help our little girls find self respect before ruining it. Nor will it help our boys find respect for girls.  Dressing ourselves and our little girls like Beyonce – or – like all we think men want is for us to strip-  is insipid, playing into the enemy’s hand, stupid , banal and just rude. I’m pretty sure superheroes don’t think “Wow, I’m gonna need less clothes so that I can fight. No Way can I do those crazy Trinity Matrix round-house-jump-off-the-wall kicks to the throat with these clothes- on my body! ”  Face. Palm.

So I told my kids while reading the Batman book that Wonder Woman needs more clothes. They agreed.

Today, my sweet little 3 year old who Loves Princess Leia and Hello Kitty told me that she wants to dress up like Wonder Woman. – I was prepared for this after losing a Lot of sleep Christmas night over slutty  female superhero stereotypes. But I’m none too happy that at 3 she needs to have the modesty discussion. We have always instilled that “your body is your body” with our kids. An important stepping stone in the self-respect arena.  And it truly is never too early to instill self respect and modesty as a virtue. So I told her that I would love to have her help me design a better Wonder Woman outfit. Maybe a pretty dress or something that would help Wonder Woman be more respectful And powerful at the same time. She agreed so tomorrow we’ll be at the drawing board. For now I picked up some simple ideas from the pinlandia you can look at here if you want your daughter in modest costuming too.

– Happy parenting and Merry Christmas Amigos!

 

7ishQT on Drink Contest, Dandelions and Mishaps

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Hey y’all!  We made it to Friday, not that that means anything around these parts, but we did, and somehow this week it actually feels like a Friday for once in a Blue Martini moon.  (I’m pregnant, all I can think about are the lovely blue cheese stuffed olive martinis I cannot have right now.)

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sotg-party

Speaking of drinks, are you partaking in the Jen’s fun #sotg  book release contests!?  I hope so, cuz I love me a good competition. And Eep!  tonight is the deadline, I totally thought I had until manana, pero, no.  Today is it folks.

Husband and I came up with a -to-be-taste-tested-by-non-preggos-later-hopefully delicious- and contest winning- #sotg drink.  Phew.  I sent my Top Secret Recipe to one hilarious and you all knew her before I did; Kelly of  This Ain’t The Lyceum for a video making!

That’s me gasping at that generous offer.

Anyway, to finish this post I gotta Giant list of crap to get done today and that lawn ain’t gonna mow itself.

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pisco

(image courtesy of www.undertheyewtree.com – and didn’t use this but you should also try the real deal Pisco Sour, it’s amazing)

El #SOTG North/South Pisco Drink Recipe you all have been waiting for!

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1 oz. bourbon

1 oz. tequila

4-6 oz. sour mix (I used the frozen Bacardi Marg. mix)

Egg white from 1 egg

lime wedge

Pour all over ice in a shaker.  (I used this as an excuse to finally buy those large mason jars I’ve been eyeing)

Shake with all the vim and vigor you got to let the egg do it’s frothy, foamy thang

strain into a (chilled) rocks/ champagne/ mason jar/ whatever you like

garnish with that pretty lime and

OLE Y’all!  Happy drinking.

[tried to insert hilarious drink making vlog here, possibly rivaling Kelly’s (good luck with that Victoria), it’s gonna have to wait.]

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This past weekend, I was able to get down to Colorado Springs with kids for some family fun.  Husband is training, placing 3rd in a state-wide shooting contest, doing cool AFR stuff; so we made the trek.  I made it longer by making a much needed pit stop at my Mom’s.  My husband was so sweet and did everything to make my day a lovely one.  Thank you babe!

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Mishap #1:  I simply Had to get those dandelions mowed down cuz there was probably a storm a comin’ and I didn’t know if our city would make good on their promise to charge us an arm and a leg to spray them themselves before husband got the chance to deal with them.  Our city, it’s my least favorite thing about living here so far.  I don’t like this term, but nanny state totally fits here.  And for some reason, I felt this was fitting:

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Mishap #2 Start the car after 1.5 hours of dragging the lawnmower around the lawn and truck decides not to start.  Luckily there were some nice farmer guys doing another neighbors lawn who jumped the battery.  Phew.

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Mishap #3:  It started to snow.  Hard.  Like sideways 1/4 mile visibility kinda snow.  On Mother’s Day.  And I forgot socks for me. Husband to the rescue again.  Phew.

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Did anyone ever tell you in your whole life that it is a TERRIBLE idea to take a toddler to a movie, at an actual movie theater?  That kid can sit and watch her some Daniel Tiger or Dora or some stupid movie, yes, I’m a terrible Mom, but a real paid-for flick.  UGH.  Just- don’t- do- it.  Unless you want this to be your life:

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dandelions

These guys.  Aren’t they pretty?  Well;

Ooooooooooh boy. I have to give a Major Mea Culpa to my neighbors whom I have been a hatin’ on for at least a week for this dandelion thing. I just talked to the city to get a “preggo extension” on the whole Nuisance Code mess. It turns out that the City of Sterling has been walking around our neighborhood, literally, to see who is in violation of this horrible dandelion EPIDEMIC. I mean, those dandelions, you Seriously have to watch them, they could kill a person.
So, to my unwitting neighbors, I am so sorry for all the glaring, talk behind your backs  and general mean thoughts in your direction, I apologize.  Not that you will ever see this crazy Catholic Mama blog, but still.  Plus, there’s confession. Phew.  Now I turn the death glares to you, dear stupid city.  Which is childish, I know, but give me a break.

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puffs

I think that’s actually 7, so that’s what Ima do this week.  Gotta change somebody’s little dipe then get all bedazzled for my #SOTG drink taste test Mom’s night In fun.

Happy Friday, can’t wait to read more over at the Fulwiler place!

And major congratulations to you Jen for writing and  getting this book out!  I am so very looking forward to some time to read it!

Prodigal Son and Reflections in pregnancy.

Gratitude.

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Tonight I witnessed my son growing up. We were saying our nightly prayers and it was the way he was using language and internalizing his words that caught my attention.
He’s growing up before my very eyes and I’m so very proud and happy. His life has given mine meaning in a way my words will always fail to express.

My gratitude to the Lord Jesus Christ for changing me, for lifting up my broken and dying person, my withering soul, is something I only pray I can share and spread for others. I am starting by trying to share Him with my beautiful children and the man I married, with whom I am one.

Reflections on 20 yr. old Victoria.

Recently I have been reflecting on just how I really feel like my life has done a 180 degree turn from whom I was.  Prompting this was a desire to get in touch with an incredibly generous family I stayed with in Nicaragua over 20,yes, 20 years ago.  Hard to believe the kid I was back then.  I had gone on a secular mission type trip to be a helping hand in a library opening in this little town on the border of Honduras.  I realize now how eye opening that experience was, and also how much I missed by maintaining my selfishness while I was there.  I guess what I really want is a make-up chance.  A chance to really give back to that family, and mostly to bring Jesus with me.  As a Catholic convert I can really see the ways my selfishness has strayed my heart, frayed it into tiny fragments that would never be whole without Him.

This song is lovely, it reflects more sadness and anger that I let go of a long time ago, but I still really love it. Miss Michelle Shocked.

http://grooveshark.com/s/Prodigal+Daughter+Cotton+Eyed+Joe/3ET9km?src=5

Part-time Military.

Today I’m a mother and a wife and we are a part-time military family.  Which is sometimes so awkward.  My husband goes away for short stints and I fall into single mom, hold down the fort mode.  And he comes back and I just don’t know where I stand or how to deal with his presence in our family again.  Even  after 3 days.  I miss him so much while he’s away and look forward to his being home.  And the reality of his being home proves harder than the imagined one where he is husband and father and sole breadwinner.  I find myself ill equipt to deal with his presence again and every little thing seems to set me off; his disciplining our kids, our schedule, money, pretty much anything.  I try to maintain that -Happy he’s home version of Victoria-; it just always seems too short-lived.

So, why is reality so darned Hard?  Why do I have to take the kids to mass by myself?  Why do things just not go according to my oh so perfect plans?  Maybe God is trying to teach me something.  Honestly, I don’t know what it is right now.  But, I have an idea that it may have something to do with letting go of that selfish Vic, something like dying to self.  UUUUUUuuuugh.  I really Dislike dying to Self!  It hurts, it’s uncomfortable, it means I need to go to confession and to love without expecting to get anything in return.  It means I need to actively Try to bring Christ out from under the bushes and shine His light even when it’s really hard.  Like right now.  Like at the gas station, like here at home and doing the dishes, like when I talk to my husband, like when I am making breakfast for the kids at 630am.

Baby anxiety.

I’m going to go get to nesting.  It helps me feel a tad more equipped to welcome a new person into our home.  And- I can be so very thankful that we have a place to call home this year.  We will probably be staying here for arrival of little one, so that is really something for us.  To be able to nest and plant stuff and and and.

7QT Where I make a Leeetle Announcement…

1.

Boy oh boy have I been dying to share this news with y’all!   See that little gummie bear looking thing?  That’s our baby!  I just am so amazed at this imaging, we haven’t had it with our other two, so it was quite the treat. We’re due early October so baby should arrive somewhere next January. Joking.

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2.

And then these two, they are so excited about the baby inside Mommy’s tummy.  Reason to smile.

Third!

 

3.

I just haven’t even had the energy to do a post in like, forever.  My first trimester is a bad blues song that goes something like “Oh whoa is meeeeEEEEeeeee, I just can’t take this No Mooooooooh”  and on and on forever. Not quite as bad as Mama Knows, which is hilarious and sad but, Laudy, is it just a way start offering up every little thing, ever.

4.

I’m actually quite bummed I didn’t have one ounce of energy to put my little fingers to a keyboard, much less pull my brain out of the gigantic cotton filled fog I’ve been in for weeks now.  So, to all you wonderful peeps grinding out the week, thanks for giving my basically bed-ridden self something to laugh and smile about.

5.

Products:  Can I just say that if I never, ever, ever, ever ever see another piece of ginger or ginger ale or ginger gum or ginger anything it will be too dang soon.  Ugh.  It does help for a minute, but really, I’m just a praying that this next 4 weeks goes smoothly and not worse.  Meds: Doc has put me on Actual progesterone because of multiple miscarriages and I get to stop at week 12.  Today is the first day, and so far, no barfy barfy or anything there like, lethargic, but not the super yuck.  Good. News.  I’m also one of those sicky sicks who goes on the anti-nausea meds, please don’t judge, cuz, I have got to got to got to be Mama.  We aren’t exactly living in the lap of luxury and husband works thru my sickest part of the day.  Non-smelly anything:  I think I haven’t even put hair product in and there’s just no way I could touch perfume- if I had any- or even any kind of aromatic food- just kills me.  The Keurig has been my total life saver, from making my instant broth, to whatever I need hot water in stat; it’s been my best friend.  Thank you Keurig!

6.

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I really really wanted to try this for a possible cure to the sickness.  Can I just say that even thinking about meat or cooking it has been totally and utterly impossible.  I got the idea from Jen’s morning sickness post  after a friend Pinned it and just hoped and prayed it would work. So I bought the book all excited- this is still pre-sick phase and then BAM.  Just like that, I was layed up, out cold, useless to my family and the world other than building a sweet tiny little bebe.  Plus- no bread!?  Eek gads, I am just not that strong willed.  I’m not.  Not right now anyway.  Maybe After I’m thru this stage , but right now, it’s like all I can do to heat up a cup of broth to sip on and dip a piece of toast into it if I’m lucky.

7.

ender

I’m already forming a committee to name our Third, Ender.  We’re giant fans of the BOOK, not the horrible sellout of a film {major bummer for us Ender geeks} and I am really not opposed to naming a kid after a favorite character, plus a lifetime of cool kids getting it?: Awesome.  Husband says we could name bebe Andrew but he”s sure it’s a girl and I’m not so keen on Andrew for a girl. Or Valentine.   And to kow my taste in baby naming, I desperately wanted to name baby girl Eowyn.  Duh.  No dice.  Help?  You could send plea letters, picket, do one of those Presidential Executive decision thingies, petition, whatever.  And then again!  Light bulb:  if it gets to be too much for him, maybe he’ll say that Eowyn isn’t so bad After all!!!  Ha.  Happy weekending friends.

Heading over to Jen’s 7QT for more friday fun.  Seeya there.

7 QT: On Slow Rise and making Sourdough when life gives you lemons.

Welcome to my Freezing Friday -cooped up with cabin feverish kiddos- 7QT!

a. First, a big thank you to Jen for dragging yourself out from beneath covers to be our gracious and -hopefully better hostess!

1. I’ve discovered that my “maker” includes “baker”.  Phew.  Glad I got that out. My art grad school self is trying hard not to be disgusted with my newfound love of BREAD self.  It’s seriously all the cool stuff my sculptor self loves: art, science, experimentation, whimsy, love and even theology.  More and more and more bread to come your way, maybe even to some doorsteps soon. to be continued…

so, here’s this item of deliciousness that my dear husband helped me knead for days it seemed to get even Some bubbles: Behold, Extra Sour Sourdough Bread from the oven of SpicyCatholic! Who needs culinary school anyway?

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2. Then, my sweet friend Amanda sent me this awesome Ted Talks vid, and it’s awesome, if you love BREAD and theology, it’s worth the 15 minutes. 

I only heard of this guy, he’s a big deal in the bread maker world – Peter Reinhart- and I haven’t done much research on him, but me thinks he’s a Catholic, and at least a Communion receiving Christian.

3.   Superbowl!!! It’s Denver and Seattle, and I am so very excited, so much in our win over the Patriots that I’m sharing silly Broncos cupcake cutie maxin’ in the glow of victory with a blue mouth.

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       I wanted to plan a big feast and stuff, but sadly it falls on husband’s AF Reserves UTA, so, yeah, not feasting, more like praying/ mitigating survival of sanity.  The show must go on.

4.  I feel down and out when I’m not making, baking, writing or doing something that makes my heart happy, and weird as it may be, I have fallen for bread.  Glad I got the chance to check in today with all y’all linkup amigos.

5.  Congratulations to all y’all awesome bloggers nominated for Sheenazing Awards.  You all deserve awards and martinis!  Really really good martinis.  Headed over to vote myself very very soon.

6.  Can I just get an AMEN for Child Lock on the Tablet!?  We do the kindle version and boy were we paying for stuff before they put That baby in there.

7. A big big hair change is coming up.  Dun dun dun!  I really hope it goes well, or else next week’s 7QT may be a little tears in my martini kinda post.

7.a. Downton: that’s another post I haven’t gotten to

7.b.  Sherlock: ditto, but don’t fret, I’ll get on it soon.

Hope you all have a dandy weekend and are out of the cold wherever you are.

Dr. football , Or how I stopped worrying and learned to love the game.

Captive Siberian tigers play-fighting

When I was a youngin I didn’t really care for all the screaming and yelling that went on with Bronco Sunday.  We weren’t Christians, as a family, and really, our religion, if there was one, was football.  So I kinda had a mad on for football for a long, Long time.  I even went to Ohio State , where in Columbus if you are not a football fan you may as well just Move.   Now that I’m not there (thanks be to God) I can appreciate the culture, from afar, a very very far.  Never was cut out to be a Buckeye.

Anyhow, as I’ve gotten older, traveled and lived all over the world, I have come to really appreciate the football season.  And expecially college football season.  Having children, especially a boy has been the game changer I think.  Not to mention of course being married to a native Alabama man and born and raised Bama fanatic.

When our son came I realized that I really want him to love and appreciate football as much as we do.  Not just because it’s the most fun you can have on a Saturday in the Fall, but because there is something, many things special about this game.  I want to flesh those things out for myself and for anyone else interested in Why!? you would ever want to watch a single game with your football loving husband.

Comaradery.  There is just a feeling, maybe inexplicable feeling you get from knowing gameday is here.  It’s like waking up on Christmas morning in October with an unknown present coming.  [Especially if you’re an Alabama fan].  But, only you and millions of other fans are in on the gifting.  You get to come together with all kinds of folks for good, clean competition.  And, this is especially why I love College Football because it’s not the NFL, players are still young and impressionable and learning who they are on and off the field.  Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that there aren’t big money issues in College ball, too, but still, it’s not the NFL where players are paid gajillions.  That, however is another post entirely my friendly readers.

Americana.  When I was living abroad, one of the things I would miss the most in the Fall was American Football.  It defines us as a nation, whether we like it or not, it’s Our sport.  I began to get homesick living in Korea for my friends and I hanging out in front of the tv watching a game, drinking something cold and eating all kinds of gameday food.  I guess I’m just a ‘Merican at heart.

Team.  I have always found team play really important.  Which is odd considering my personal choice of sports: Tennis and cycling.  Ha!  Those two sports are all about me, me, me.  Looking back I wish I had gone out for the girl’s soccer team, just to be part of a team sport.  And now as a Mom, I really am hoping that our kids get the chance to play, learn and enjoy team sports.  They are character building and enjoyable for so many reasons.

Roughhousing. One of the main reasons I think football in particular as a team sport is great, is because of the idea of roughhousing and learning our  inner and outer strengths.  Playing rough is one of God’s great gifts to human kind, to all animals, and it teaches us trust in ourselves, our bodies and in others.  Especially if we were allowed to roughhouse as kids.  It is practice for the real world for animals, but on many levels for us too. We learn boundaries and how to exceed them, if and where possible, and we learn about the magnificent gifts God has bestowed on us in play, through excertion of our physical bodies, through laughter and frustration, we learn, grow and get stronger.  We learn that we can overcome.  Here’s Mandisa’s gorgeous song and tear jerking video(I’m 3 for 3 in crying while viewing):

Manliness.  I believe it’s extremely important, especially today to define our gender roles.  It is essential for a boy to know that it is not only OKAY to be a boy, but to Act like a boy.  Boys are generally bigger and stronger than girls and it’s important for them to have positive, healthy outlets for being boys.  They are our future Men; future husbands, fathers, military, priests, builders, caretakers.  I want our son to know that he can be himself in a world that may not want Manliness to exist at all.  Men are an amazing, beautiful strength and gift to the human race, I would like for that to be the case forever.  And, in something as simple as playing football, they can learn skills that will carry them into Manhood with grace and love and understanding of proper roles as a beautiful thing, not something to hide or be ashamed of.

Coaching.  This is an amazing gift, this thing called coaching. It’s not parenting, but it is, it’s not teaching, but it totally is, it’s not anything short of helping a person excel at his or her own personal gifts.  I have had the privilege of knowing some wonderful coaches; people who really cared about their teams and sacrificed their own time to help kids get better and be better, on and off the field, or choir room, or theatre stage, or ninjutsu mat.

So these are some reasons I will always root for my team, try to be the best coach a kid can ask for in a parent and pray for players and coaches. And I pray that my kids have as good a coach as Peter Mussett or Nick Saban or Rhonda Fossum or Mary Stevens.  Roll Tide. PPS Coach, please don’t leave Alabama until Blaise can play for you!

Love, Vic.