Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Is this sooooo 80's????

Ok, sistas and the three other people who read my blog, is a perm too 80's? Or is the whole 80's thing coming back in? I don't know but I guess it really doesn't matter either because it's too late. We have, drumroll please, a permed hair-do living in our house. It's so cliche!! I feel like I'm back roaming the halls of Adrian E slash Jr High when the aroma a perm hits my nose. It's unbelievable but also, it's cute. Really cute!! And it cost me this much moola-the big zero, zilch, nada!! So what do you think? Could she be a model for a remember when 80's youtube video, or is she really owning it??
PS you can tell she's mine because she's already started on the zit farm. Those were terrible, terrible days when I had to take acutane!!

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Lexi's basketball-Freshman year

Lexi's C Team Freshman Year. They have to wear the yellow uniforms because they didn't all have the same purple uniforms. The Connell on the floor is awesome. And of course, raise your hand if you had Garland as a coach!! The model herself!

I took stats at all the games and didn't ever take my camera. So yeh, this is about the jitzed of the pictures I have of her.

Summer's Basketball team

Olds Jr High C Team Basketball Team 2011-Summer's 7th Grade year. 15 girls and 8 games later. They only lost 2 girls during the season that quit. They only lost 2 games also. Cute picture of Summer. I don't understand why we pay a certain company a lot of money for them to take a good picture-Sum looks good-but my word, look at the background!! Go to the high school and use their gym, which might be a coach's problem and not the photographer's problem.

Watching someone shoot freethrows. Time out
Watching someone shoot a freethrow with her original hands on her hips. You'll notice, she does that alot. Playing a wing, yeh!!
Hustling back to play offense.
During a timeout. Notice her hands. Asking or listening but it looks like she's talking.
During halftime, trying to get a ball The two who DO NOT LIKE to go to ball games actually smiling??!!
Listening during a timeout.
Run, baby run!! Playing defense on the wrong side and playing a POST??? Hello the shortest girl against the tallest girl!!
Playing offense against as a post??
She's in the far right side of the picture.You can only see the top of her head behind the balding ref.
Where she spent most of the season, on the bench. I think she might have played at total of 12 minutes the whole season. She didn't get to play much.

Monday, February 7, 2011

Invisible Mother...

It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?' Obviously not; no one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible.
The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more! Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?? Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What number is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30, please.' Some days I'm a crystal ball; 'Where's my other sock?, Where's my phone?, What's for dinner?' I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history, music and literature -but now, they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going, she's going, she's gone!?
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. She had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when she turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.' It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: 'With admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'
In the days ahead I would read - no, devoured - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work: 1) No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names. 2) These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. 3) They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. 4) The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A story of legend in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof, No one will ever see it And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.'
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, no Cub Scout meeting, no last minute errand is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for 3 hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, he'd say, 'You're gonna love it there...'
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible mothers.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

A drive...

Been to Burbank twice in less than a week to watch one daughter play 3 minutes in a basketball game and the other not even get to dress down. At least Burbank High and Junior High School are nice schools.