Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness, Parenting/Running/Pets, siblings

Go ahead, roll the window down…

LENTEN BLOG #17

It’s amazing what you see when you look up from your blue screen…

Our children’s sporting events have taken us to baseball fields, swimming facilities, cross-country courses, soccer fields, and mountain bike trails all over the state. As we drive, I frequently remind the kids to take in their surroundings, identify landmarks, and appreciate the landscape. Really, all I do is holler, “Look out the window!”

The other day as I drove my son to his baseball game, we chatted about the rise and fall of our NCAA brackets, whether we had packed enough Goldfish Crackers, and his latest science test.

I pointed out a sprawling patch of daffodils dripping gold over the side of the highway, a splintered billboard with faded lettering, and a well-preserved one-room schoolhouse that stood with solidarity and character smack in the middle of a cemetery. “Yep,” he said, as I pointed out each one, “I saw it last time we drove here.” He continued, “Yeah when we passed the school house I wondered why it was in the middle of a cemetery.” We made a chicken and egg reference and continued to the field.

I was happy he saw the world in real-time rather than through a screen.

On our family road trips in the ’70s and ’80s, I sat in the off-kilter center seat of our big white station wagon. The middle spot between Mom and Dad which even with just a lap belt felt safe because of my seatmates. I was in charge of the little tiny Kleenex box on the dashboard and securing the trash bag on the lighter.

As we traveled from New Mexico to Arizona, Las Vegas, Disneyland, the Grand Canyon or wherever we could, we’d sing, and play car games. Trips were always peppered with bickering as expected with four girls, so in pinch, mom or dad would hit the On the fly parenting button and come up with contests. My favorite was, “The first person to see a deer will get an ice cream cone!” 

As we peered out our windows, searching for the deer, we were treated with scenes of bison, prairie dogs, elk, and antelope. Our vision focused more on the topography and less on the confines of the station wagon, even though we had the roomy way, way back. Ultimately, we all got ice cream.

As they say, technology is a blessing and a curse. (“they” might be my mom)

Today it’s tricky to teach children to yank out the headphones and lift their gaze. Perhaps we peered out of our car windows more growing up because we didn’t have anything to look down to.

Bottom line: our lives are going to zoom by whether we’re ready or not, so while you can roll the window down, let the wind hit you in the face and soak up your surroundings.

Spiritual Workout: 5-minute meditation. Clear your mind. Just 5 minutes.

Workout of the Day:

On your next drive, find a new trail to hike, walk or run.

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness, Parenting/Running/Pets

Trump. Defined.

Lenten Blog #16

I love words, research, and storytelling.

When I was a kid, finding definitions involved a physical and mental investment.

During homework, if we said, “Mom! What’s a _________?” Before we could even get the word out, mom, a fierce believer in fostering independence in each of us, would holler, “Look it up!”. Then the work began.

Finding the definition meant we had to get up from studying and lug the Big-Red-Webster-Dictionary to the kitchen table. Then we’d have to recall our dictionary skills and how to use the guide words at the top and flip through the thinnest paper ever invented to find the word. Researching was a workout too. It meant poring through our Big-Brown-Encyclopedias. They were like a tangible Google with gold letters on the spine and significant GIRTH.

Today, I can ask Google, Alexa or Siri facts and definitions, or I can sit and physically type words into the computer (exhausting. Ha.)

This week I was intrigued by certain verbiage which crept into the news. Although not complicated or extraneous, the words seemed to intertwine in an odd and sad way.

Words like bullying, prisoner of war, president, disparaging and Trump.

According to a story on NPR’s Morning Edition, Among False Claims, Trump Attacked McCain For Failing Veterans,Trump spoke about Senator McCain,

“I gave him [McCain] the kind of funeral that he wanted, which as president I had to approve…I don’t care about this. I didn’t get [a] thank you. That’s OK. We sent him on the way, but I wasn’t a fan of John McCain.”

In response to this statement, Georgia’s Johnny Isakson, chairman of the Senate Veterans’ Affairs Committee told Georgia Public Broadcasting,

“It’s deplorable what he said — it will be deplorable seven months from now, if he says it again, and I will continue to speak out…We’re all Americans. There aren’t Democratic casualties and Republican casualties on the battle field there are American casualties and we should never reduce the service that people give to this country.”

It broke my heart hearing such harsh words toward Senator McCain who passed away August 25, 2018. After all, he was a son, father, husband, soldier, public servant, prisoner of war and ultimately an American hero.

Unfortunately, when it comes to choosing words, our new normal seems to give the President carte blanche, no matter how cruel.

Our kids are teenagers now and very aware of the words they hear at school, in songs, on the internet, on the bus, and on the news. They are old enough to decide how they want to communicate and the words they will choose.

They always say the single lesson learned from our current president is what NOT to say. 

Instead, as a family, we’ve decided to stay the course and share words like mercy, grace, and empathy. These are the words that matter. The words to live by and teach our children. 

After listening to a podcast with my son about aspiring 2020 presidential candidates, he eloquently stated, “We need a change, someone who gets it. Something entirely new. A new voice.”

Now those are words worth listening to…

By the way, Here’s Trump. Defined.

According to vocabulary.com.

To trump is to outrank or defeat someone or something, often in a highly public way. … Originally trump implied a deceptive form of victory involving cheating, but that sense has been largely lost, though it’s still around in the term trumped up, meaning something that’s been falsely made up.

Spiritual Journey: Pray you always choose the right words.

Workout: I’m going for a run, the sun is finally out. Get outside!

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness, Parenting/Running/Pets

Hit the squirrel…

I didn’t hit the squirrel. Here’s what happened.

A few days ago I was reminded of the Seinfeld episode where George explains the unspoken agreement between drivers and pigeons.

Car (to the pigeons): Here I come.

Pigeon: Here comes a car, I’m going to move.

So if pigeons have an accord with drivers, surely the birds mentioned the deal to the squirrels.

Today’s blog is much like a Seinfeld episode – a blog about nothing. But what’s life without a lot of nothing mixed in with the stuff we take too seriously? Anyway, I love telling stories and you just might relate.

I was driving to pick up my daughter at swim practice and a squirrel darted into the road. I’m driving a RED car so you would think he would see it coming (no, I don’t know if they see color). Once in the middle, the squirrel decided to sit in a squirrel prayer position and have a snack! As I drove closer, I began reasoning with it, which then turned into yelling through the closed windows AT the squirrel. He was definitely not listening.

I came to a SEMI-screeching halt (I’m a pokey driver) and stopped immediately in front of him. Glancing in the rearview mirror, I was relieved I didn’t cause a mini-van pile up in my attempt to save a life. Still, in no hurry, the squirrel dusted himself off, packed up his leftovers and casually strolled away. Kind of like those deliberately sluggish pedestrians who, unlike most chickens, seem to have NO reason to get to the other side.

Anyway, I gave a brave squirrel one more life, when in fact…

I was supposed to hit the squirrel.

HERE’S WHY:

Earlier in the year, my daughter and I took a Defensive Driving Course where the students were taught to maneuver around cones, drive in rainy conditions (it conveniently rained the whole day) and really feel the Anti-lock brake system in our car. In the parking lot, she was a natural. I was a wreck.

One of the main lessons they instilled in the student drivers was when an animal runs in the road, never. ever. swerve. Always “HIT THE SQUIRREL”.

During class, a street scene was set up to give the students a stopping point as they were directed to “floor it” toward the barricade.

Cones were set up to represent squirrels and trashcans were people. Once the driver is close, they follow the cue of the instructor who swings his hands to one side or the other. The student is directed to lock the steering wheel in that direction, step COMPLETELY on the brake, and NOT HIT anything unless it’s the squirrel. They stressed, “Someone could rear-end you if you were only thinking of the squirrel.” As always, the instructor followed up with a heartbreaking story about a car that swerved to miss a puppy, hit another car and the puppy was the only survivor.” Geez.

About 20 virtual squirrels were killed that day. I missed mine (they had parents try too) only because I illegally used my brakes prior to the stop. The “you messed up and used your brakes” oversized red flag was waved noting my mistake.

Deep down I know it’s better to power through an animal when driving and unfortunately so does the soul of the raccoon who stared me down as I drove my parents 1998 Buick over it. We were returning from the Grand Canyon and I assured the kids I DID NOT hit it.

Then I went to confession.

For some reason, the squirrel needed another chance. Most days, we all do.

When I arrived at swim, Cora got in the car and I said, “I didn’t hit the squirrel”.

“YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO HIT THE SQUIRREL!”

Once again, I was corrected by my 16-year-old. And once again, she was right. Darn it.

Spiritual journey: Say a prayer to St. Francis, the Patron Saint of Animals – pray for all animals. Pray, they realize the side of the street they are on is really the best choice.

Workout: When you walk or run today, watch for fast drivers. Not everyone stops for squirrels OR runners. Be safe.

 

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness, Parenting/Running/Pets, siblings

Heaven can wait

After a recent move from Washington, DC and church shopping for a good year, we finally settled on St. Joseph’s Catholic Church. It was cozy, diverse and close to home.

Following a Saturday evening mass, we discussed the homily with the kids on the drive home. It was a mediocre effort to summon thoughts from our children and see if anything other then the weekly pew fight was absorbed.

The sermon was very straightforward, essentially about going to heaven, practicing repentance and doing the right thing. At one point, Father Michael asked the congregation to raise their hands if they wanted to go to heaven.

I looked down one side of the pew and saw our eldest daughter and son with their waving hands straight up in the air, then glanced at our 5-year-old, Zavier whose tiny digits were tucked away under his legs, eyes staring at me shaking his head adamantly.

His brother and sister, in their loud church whispers, glared at him and with disappointed voices uttered, “ZAVIER! You HAVE to raise your hand!” He readjusted his hands under his legs, sat up straight and stared up at the altar.

On the drive home, more curious than concerned, I asked the question again with the long drawn out vowel sounds kids love. “Sooooo, WHOOOO wants to go to heaven?” Dexter who is 7 and Cora, 8 both entrenched in Catechism hollered, “I do”, with zeal in their voices.

Zavier again shook his head, and in his outside voice said, “NOPE, I DON’T want to go to heaven.”  With her well-trained third grade “you’re such a dummy” tone, Cora yelled, “YOU DON’T?!”  

Zavier took a look around the van at all of us and finally announced, “No. I don’t want to go to heaven, ’cause I just don’t want to move AGAIN!”

That said, we all breathed a sigh of relief, gave our compassionate “we get it” nods and drove home. Logical thinking for a little guy. I mean, we all love the thought of eternal happiness but moving really is exhausting.

Mind and body workout – Meditate for 5 minutes. Pray for those who have moved to heaven, may they know how profoundly they are missed.