Tag: family

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Why every kid needs their thing…

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

Lenten Reflections #36

From the Runonmom.com Lenten archives, here’s one of my personal Favorites…thanks for reading.

Today at work, I walked with a first grader to his classroom. The tousled-hair blonde with sweet, aqua eyes looked down at his untied sneakers and uttered, “I still don’t know how to tie my shoes…I mean, I just don’t have time, you know (dramatic pause) now that I play baseball.” He caught my eye to make sure I fully grasped the play ball part. I gave him an understanding, “I KNOOOW, you’ve got a lot to do!” response, and he gave me the kid nod that said, “Finally, someone gets it.”

Clearly, he was a busy guy. Way too busy to mess with shoestrings and all that tying. Baseball was his priority now, and talking about it made him beam. He wanted to share who he was, and by letting me know he was a baseball player, he was pleased with himself and satisfied that I heard it from him first.

We all need our thing

Something that drives us, that makes us jump out of bed and start the day with a spark. Does it define who we are? Maybe. It certainly tells more of our story.

And kids? Kids are constantly exploring. They also need to get out and experience success and failure, whether in an organized sport, class, or just playing with friends on the playground. Pray they seize opportunities to socialize, develop their identities, and discover what they love or don’t.

When I grew up, my sporting perspective was pretty narrow – it was soccer or soccer. As the fourth of four girls, you just follow the pack, and my sister, who is closest in age to me, was a soccer player; therefore, so was I. We had two practices a week, games on Saturdays, reversible uniforms, and our snacks were sliced oranges and water.

Nowadays, there are limitless choices for kids, from soccer to surfing, and mountain biking to martial arts. Practices sometimes end as late as 9:00 pm., and on some nights, dinners are eaten at different times while homework sits on the back burner simmering patiently. Justin and I feel like we are constantly driving somewhere, but we don’t complain because soon enough, the backseat will be empty, garage doors tightly shut, and there will be fewer shoes to trip over.

Naturally, over the years, our kids have dabbled in a lot to find out what makes them tick. In the process, we’ve had: acoustic guitars, bass guitars, ukeleles, soccer cleats, keyboards, lacrosse goals, baking tools, chorus, piano music, gymnastics, basketball high tops, hockey pucks, baseball gloves, frisbee golf goals, shuttlecocks, tennis rackets, catcher’s gear, football helmets, swim goggles, orienteering shoes, toe shoes, tap shoes, ballet shoes, running shoes, metal cleats, turf cleats, unicycles, mountain bikes, skateboards, Ripsticks, bows, arrows, quivers, fishing rods, dart boards, ping pong balls, and more I may have forgotten.

I am so grateful they have WANTED to try so many things, and I am happy we’ve been able to afford them the chance. They’ve settled on (but are not limited to) swimming, baseball, and mountain biking, plus cello, saxophone, and trumpet- a well-rounded crew.

Thank God.

Thank God they found something they care about and enjoy.

I know we’re busy, but as I say, it’s a good busy. It’s a time where we can relish in our children’s successes, see them win, lose, fall, get up, and be there just in case they need us or a Band-Aid.

What I learned:

Let them try. Let them fail. Let them know they have to give it more than a week. Tell them to power through the whole season because there is a team or group depending on them, and life is about teamwork and perseverance.

My first-grade friend, who is simply too busy to bother with tying his shoes, figured out what makes him happy, as all kids should. What a lucky guy.

UPDATE 2025: All of our kids are still playing sports in college and are very happy.

Here’s to Another Good Day!

Thanks for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

10 tips for taking care of our aging parents

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

Lenten Reflections #32

Caregiving is both a blessing and a challenge. Between my sisters and me, we manage our parents’ care. I’ve mentioned before that I live the furthest away, so I carry less of the load. Recently, I have been coming more on weekends to help out and have learned that just as I’m preparing to leave, I finally grasp the tips and tricks that make the day easier.

Things like:

  1. Be direct – Answer questions and don’t overexplain: the more complex the answer, the more confusion ensues.
  2. Give hope – Say yes to requests and ideas…if Mom thinks she’s going to recover the chairs in the kitchen, say YES, we can go to the fabric store.
  3. Stay calm – Calm begets calm
  4. Emphathize – Amid the moans and groans from aging and exhaustion from working outside, grab the heating pad, warm some tea, and use Aspercreme.
  5. Nourish – Never underestimate the power of Cheerios any time of day for Mom and a peanut butter sandwich for Dad.
  6. Go outside – Take a walk, sit in the shade, look up at the sky, and take notice.
  7. Laugh – Mom is amazing at laughing at herself, even if she puts her shirt on backwards or, this morning, her bra. She says, “You could write a story about this and call it Idiot’s Delight.”
  8. Let them – let them do as much as they can on their own. Independence is priceless.
  9. Love them – Remember you are still their child,d and they need your love even more than they need you to help put in their partials (teeth). Although both are very important.
  10. Listen – You’ve heard the stories a million times; let them tell it again.

What I learned:

I’m lucky to have my parents and my sisters, and I pray I have the same positivity as I grow older, even if I put my bra on backward someday.

Here’s to Another Good Day!

Thanks for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Bedtime + Kids = so many questions

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

40 Reflections – #30: 40 days of raw recollections during the Lenten Season

It is quiet at home tonight. Justin and the dogs are asleep, the Braves are on TV, and I thought back to the memorable, noisy nights when the kids were home. I looked back on a few older pieces I wrote and found this recollection of our unforgettable nightly routine:

I had a post started for today, but I was redirected physically and mentally toward what makes every day complete: my children.

Bedtime in our home has become a sacred time. It is when the day’s silly moments, most profound questions, and emotional tribulations bubble up. And I am always ready to listen.

When the kids were younger, there were questions following prayers. I would stand in the hallway like a professor at a podium and take all inquiries: “What are we doing tomorrow? Will it be cold? Should we play soccer or baseball first? When does the pool open? Can we make waffles in the morning?”

Then, there were the medical mysteries. Most days, our kids stay healthy, aside from a few ‘must-have’ Band Aids. But at bedtime — BAM! The ailments roll in after the final Amen. “My arm/leg/knee/head/elbow hurts!”

Their questions vary: “Who will I eat lunch with on the first day of school? Will the teacher understand if I didn’t annotate my bibliography? Why is there so much drama with girls? Will we travel for spring break? Can you pick me up early from school? Pleeeease?”

Then the recent doozies: “Why are kids being shot in their schools? Will that happen to us? Will I get in trouble if I walk out and protest against gun violence?” And…Sometimes, they simply give you the bitter truth and say, “I’m scared”.

What I learned:

I consider bedtime my prime listening opportunity because, quite frankly, I don’t have answers. Sure, I can console after a messy friendship issue and confirm the weather will be warm enough for shorts. However, when the questions are beyond comprehension, I kneel by their bedside one more time, and we say an extra prayer for lives lost, families broken, and those kids in the world who feel so terribly alone.

What I continue to learn:

Always take the time to listen to your children and those you love. They are reaching out for a reason.

Here’s to Another Good Day!

Thanks for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Planting Patience

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

Lenten Reflections #29

Yesterday, I asked a kindergarten class to share one highlight of their weekend. As we went around the circle, there were stories about lost teeth, the new Minecraft movie, sleepovers, lacrosse games won, and soccer goals missed.

When it was Gigi’s turn, she sat up a little higher on her knees. Her pensive, smiling blue eyes squinted as she announced loudly, “I planted seeds in my garden! Peas, tomatoes, lettuce, green beans, and peppers…but we need to wait patiently before they grow.” Gigi is five, and she understands patience.

Patience is a lost art. Like writing letters. Or phone calls. Or cursive.

When I grew up, patience meant waiting in line for confession every Saturday, the Albuquerque Journal in the morning, or Ted Koppel on the evening news. Patience was waiting for a cassette to rewind so you could listen to your favorite song again and for a TV special like “Charlie Brown’s Christmas” to air every 365 days. Patience was shaking a Polaroid picture to see the magic it brought.

According to Pamela Davis-Kean, a professor of psychology at the University of Michigan by age 6 or 7, kids begin understanding the concept of patience as they think about their own behavior and the consequences of their behavior.

Kids aren’t born with patience. It’s a quality they develop over time.

“We live in a social world, and we can’t have everything we want when we want it — that’s where patience and self-control come in,” says Pamela Cole, a professor of psychology and human development at Penn State. “The years between toddlerhood and kindergarten are critical for developing patience.”

So when I heard Gigi say she needed to wait for the seeds to grow, I felt grateful. Grateful for forbearance from a five-year-old and especially grateful for a renaissance of the ability to wait.

What I learned:

Sometimes, five-year-olds are more brilliant and cognizant of the world around them than the rest of us.

Go plant your garden!

“The day you plant the seed is not the day you eat the fruit. Be patient and stay the course.” —Fabienne Fredrickson

Here’s to Another Good Day.

Thanks for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

What about the Goldfish?

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

40 Reflections #27: 40 days of raw recollections during the Lenten Season

FLASHBACK STORY…A FAVORITE!

The multitude of miles on the road of motherhood can be bumpy, yet always fulfilling.

As parents, we navigate from diapers to diaries- pacifiers to car keys. Personally, I’ve been blessed to be home with our children throughout their childhood.

A Stay-At-Home-Mom. A title I relish.

Sure, once they are all in college, I’ll work until I’m 95, but right now, I’m home, and isn’t that worth the same as a large 401K?

(Please keep answers to yourselves).

Given the fact our Irish Triplets will be attending college (God-willing) back to back, I have decided to substitute teach (and work other part-time jobs) as much as possible to continue saving. So, I’ve been working nearly every day.

Today, I was offered a long-term substitute position in the Pre-K Special Needs Room. Having worked in this room for years, I knew accepting the position was the right thing to do. Primarily to serve the students but also to support the teachers who work insanely hard in a room where each child’s mind resides on the spectrum.

As I was mulling over the new work schedule with our 15-year-old daughter, she sweetly stated,

“Well, don’t forget about us!”

My heart stumbled on itself. Touched, I uttered, “Awe, you guys miss me when I’m working?”

“Sure.” My daughter assured me. “But we have no food.”

“What?” I questioned.

“REALLY, we have NO FOOD.” 

Visualizing the grocery inventory in my mind, I was certain we had plenty of food for them to make their breakfasts and lunches. So I probed further, “What do we need?”

“Well, you know, Goldfish and Cheez-Its!”

Ah-ha! That’s what they needed me for. I was the supplier of high-carb snack foods for their lunches! It all makes sense now. I asked her to add the items to the Costco list, and I would make my way there Monday.

What I learned:

Whether our children admit missing me or not, I will always supply them with lunch snacks (until I crack the code for those yummy crackers and make my own), drive them wherever they need to go (and take all of their friends), and listen to their stories even if it’s waaay past their bedtime.

Being a mom is indeed the ultimate job for me.

Here’s to Another Good Day!

Thanks for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Create your own joy

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

Lenten Reflections #22

Every day, I see kids shine, as children do.

Today, in particular, I saw two first-grade girls riding tricycles slowly around the playground, chatting like senior citizens on a Sunday drive. Then, a group of boys dribbled a soccer ball past them, heading toward the goal and yelling at each other to pass and shoot. Finally, I glanced over to a corner of the playground and saw a few girls digging in the dirt, laughing. To all of these kids, it was just another recess, but to me, it was extraordinary to watch the simplicity of how they manifested their happiness.

With my stellar computing skills, I broke it down to a basic equation:

FRIENDSHIP + PLAY = JOY

What I learned…AND Quotes on joy–

So, if we stick to the simple things in life like connections, kindness, time, and play, we will be that much closer to the joy we all seek. Better head out to the playground.

“We are shaped by our thoughts; we become what we think.
When the mind is pure, joy follows like a shadow that never leaves.”
-The Buddha (Dhammapada)

“Sadly, many of the things that undermine our joy and happiness we create ourselves. Often it comes from the negative tendencies of the mind, emotional reactivity, or from our inability to appreciate and utilize the resources that exist within us. The suffering from a natural disaster we cannot control, but the suffering from our daily disasters we can. We create most of our suffering, so it should be logical that we also have the ability to create more joy. It simply depends on the attitudes, the perspectives, and the reactions we bring to situations and to our relationships with other people.”  –Dalai Lama

Here’s to Another Good Day!

Thanks for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Writing is weighty

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

Lenten Reflections #21

For me, openly sharing my thoughts in a public forum is weighty. Perhaps it is because I hear my mom’s voice telling me and my sisters, “Be careful what you write down…followed by “and always pay your debts.” The former is what I hear when blogging, and the latter rings in my ears the rest of the day. Respecting Mom’s words, I take heed and trudge forward.

When I began sharing my writing with whomever would read it, I was conscious of the vulnerability clinging to every word. I knew it was a powerful way to connect with others, so I kept writing.

Then, while at my son’s baseball game a few years ago, I thought about this vulnerability and how it plays a sneaky James Bond role in all of our lives.

That sunny day, I sat next to a mom whose son was called up to pitch. As he stepped onto the mound, she turned to the parents in the stands and affirmed in her outside voice, “My son has only pitched ONCE IN HIS LIFE, so I don’t know what’s going to happen!”  I assured her we would not judge her or her son. Plus, now we knew he was hers, so we were bound to keep it positive. She continued as most parents would, by hollering, “Just have fun out there, son, and smile!!!” Roughly translated: don’t get hurt, and please, for the love of all that is holy, throw strikes. (Thankfully, there’s an unheralded empathy for parents who watch their child stand in any goal or dig their cleats into the rubber on a pitcher’s mound. Every parent inherently knows to cheer them on (the kids and the parents).

To be honest, when I started blogging, I kind of wanted my mom to also stand up and yell to the world,

“My daughter has only blogged ONCE IN HER LIFE, so I don’t know what is going to happen!”

She didn’t yell it, but she did encourage me to continue writing stories…and to pay off any debts “even if it is only a nickel!”

What I learned:

“Write straight into the emotional center of things. Write toward vulnerability. Risk being unliked.”  – Anne Lamott

Here’s to Another Good Day!

Thanks for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

When did we start celebrating half-birthdays?

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

40 Lenten Reflections #20

Today, a student ran over to me and said, “It’s my half-birthday!” “Wow! Happy half-birthday!” I said.

Then I thought, half-birthdays sound exhausting? I can barely keep up with our kids’ regular birthdays, and I was clearly a major player in the birthing process.

SO…When did the half-birthday celebrations begin?

Was it the same manic moment when every child had to get a trophy?

Or maybe when competitive games in school were replaced with cooperative games?

I’ve got it! Half-birthdays must have begun when a tear-filled six-year-old had a tremendous tantrum, yelling, “Everyone else had a birthday party at school, but I have a stupid summer birthday!”

Now, which parent among us wouldn’t cave to that reasoning?

My mom.

In the 1960s and 70s, our 10th birthday was the magic year when my sisters and I could have one birthday party with our friends. Of course other birthdays were memorable as well – family birthdays, we called them. Both of our grandmothers would come to celebrate with us, and Mom would make any birthday cake we wanted out of a little cake book with different designs. My favorite was the pink elephant. Mom sure did a lot of fancy cutting to put that floppy-eared guy together.

But half-birthdays? Nope, not a thing. I have a summer birthday in May, so in today’s world, I should be celebrating my age again sometime around Thanksgiving every year. Once is enough for me…

When I was younger, May would roll around, and we would drive to a small town in Arizona where my mom grew up. This was usually Memorial Day weekend, right around my birthday. My big treat was walking to Herbella’s Mercantile Store, where I would get silly putty and new Jacks to play with. I imagine if I had a half-birthday celebration, it would be Jacks in May and Silly Putty in November.

What I Learned:

To understand the perception of time and the half-birthday syndrome, I read that depending on our age, we view the same amount of time differently. Think about a one-year-old’s life: those 12 months make up their entire experience of life and only 1% of a 100-year-old’s life. Essentially, time goes by slowly like a vintage Volkswagen bus (like waiting for your 6th birthday) and then accelerates like a Porsche (think 50th birthday).

Hitting the midpoint in anything, whether it’s the 12-hour drive home to see family, finishing the first half of a Twix bar, or the moment you realize the bookmark is sitting smack in the middle of life’s novel, there are always emotions attached.

Today, as my Lenten Blogging hits the midpoint, I am so grateful to all of my readers…all 14 of you! I appreciate you sharing this space with me.

Here’s to Another Good Day and a blessed Lent (20 days in…)

Thanks for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

The blossom, like life, is fleeting

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

Lenten Reflections #17

While walking in Marshalls Store today, I passed by an elderly woman and saw she had a bright pink cherry blossom wreath in her basket.

“What a beautiful wreath!” I told her.

“It is, isn’t it?” She agreed.

I went on to say the wreath would brighten up any space.

“It’s for my daughter’s grave,” she said, wilting a little. “She died one year ago, and since her tombstone hasn’t been placed yet, I thought I would find a way to use this to dress it up.”

“It’s absolutely perfect,” I said. She went on to tell me her husband also died just three weeks shy of their 75th anniversary, at age 100 and 6 months.

“That’s the way life is,” she continued. I leaned in a little, thinking she was about to give me the secret to what life “is,” but instead, she stared at the flowers on the wreath.

I remembered my years in DC, where the cherry blossom trees define spring and renewal. After a few weeks, the delicate petals on the trees float off, symbolizing the impermanence of our fleeting lives.

As our conversation slowed, she said, ” I’m 95 years old.”

“What a blessing!” I said.

“Sometimes I’m not sure if it is or not.” She said, her voice tired.

“So nice talking to you,” I said…and God bless you…The wreath really is — absolutely perfect.”

She smiled, touched my arm, gave it a mom squeeze, and continued pushing her basket toward the clothing section where her caretaker waited.

What I learned:

My five-minute conversation with one kind, elderly woman was priceless to me, as were the connections we made. I pray she will find peace.

I also pray that maybe someone stop in and chat with my parents when they are out and about. They won’t be at Marshalls, but maybe Goodwill, Trader Joe’s, a yard sale, or the Commissary. Sharing a moment with someone and listening to their stories is lubrication for the soul.

Here’s to Another Good Day!

Thanks for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

One Mom’s March Madness

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

Lenten Reflections #15 – Motherhood — the moments, the madness, the profound joy, the heart-breaking sorrows

A few years ago, on a Friday night, we went to a local pizza place, sat in our regular booth, chatted, and stared up at the outdated TVs, watching any team play basketball. It was March Madness, and with so many teams playing, the stakes and drama were high—it was truly a basketball binge-watching dream for fans.

That night, I watched the teenage workers pace back and forth delivering pizzas to booths, clearing tables, and refilling their clear cups with colorful flavors at the soda fountain machine. I saw a new employee stop and stare at one of the screens, riveted. I looked up. Wrestling? What? I hadn’t seen wrestling since high school…and on a March Madness night? It turned out it wasn’t just any match, it was the Division 1 Wrestling championships, and Iowa’s three-time national champion, Spencer Lee, was in the depths of competing for a chance at a possible fourth straight title. In the end, however, Lee lost the semi-finals to Matt Ramos from Purdue, cementing one of the most historical upsets in D1 wrestling.

Why did it matter to me? Spencer’s mom…

As notable as the loss, Spencer Lee’s mom was shown reacting to her son’s defeat. As soon as the referee lifted the winner’s arm (which was NOT attached to her son), Lee’s mom tore her glasses off her face and smashed them in her hands, not one, not two, but three times, hurling them to the floor.

Now that’s mad! Mad at the ref? The opponent? Her son?

Or is it passion? Or sadness? Or frustration?

My mind reeled. Sometimes as parents, we are overly invested emotionally and financially in our children’s activities, sports, and school progress. That is to say, we may fail to recall who is swinging the bat, writing the essay, swimming the mile, and solving the equation. Hint: It’s not us…something I forget quite often. Our (sometimes unreasonable) expectations of what our kids can and should do are crystal clear in our minds: run faster, pitch harder, and study smarter. Easy for us to say.

Is it the “happiness” we want for our kids?

The joy of winning the race or getting into their number one college? I suppose the accomplishment is kinda like a Prime package at our doorstep where underneath the bubble wrap sits all the justification you need for your investment of time, money, and heartache. Of course until the next thing and the next.

Perhaps, as parents, we conflate passion and perfectionism.

Let’s face it, seeking perfection is a fool’s errand. We are all messy and cluttered and muddling through the days. Maybe the lesson here is that sometimes other kids are going to do a lot better than our own kids on the field or in the classroom. Sounds like real life doesn’t it?

I recently read about Esther Wojcicki, author of “How to Raise Successful People”. She is best known as the “Silicon Valley’s godmother” and mom to three very successful daughters: Susan, the former CEO of YouTube, Anne, co-founder and CEO of 23andMe, and Janet, a professor at UC San Francisco. By implementing her parenting philosophy, which Esther refers to as TRICK: trust, respect, independence, collaboration, and kindness, she feels she was able to raise capable, successful children. As far as being a parent, Wojcicki suggests focusing on your behavior. She says, “Parenting gives us perhaps the most profound opportunity to grow as human beings.”

What I learned this week:

Real life is all I know. Real joy, real feelings, real pain. Sundays I sit at church and gaze at the Stations of the Cross on the walls, and I see our own journeys to Calvary. Falling some days, getting up the next. Being carried and lifted, scorned and loved. Some days we need to carry each other on the path. Mr. Rogers’ mother used to tell him in times of tragedy, Grace will always show up in the helpers. Be the helper. Be there for the mom who hurls her glasses, the kid who misses the fly ball, and your own child who needs your presence, not your commentary. Not today anyway.

Here’s to Another Good Day!

Thanks for joining me,

Lucretia