Didn’t you know that cowlicks are now the “in” hair-do?
At least, that’s what I’m telling Becky.
(I’m just glad she’s not imitating Dennis the Menace’s challenging behavior, given her propensity to copy his hairstyle!)
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Once upon a time, many years ago, Jim’s life revolved around a little girl. And her trampoline. When he would get home from work in the summertime, Jim and this little girl would spend nearly every evening jumping and flipping together in the backyard. Nothing made him happier than seeing her laugh when he would throw his body weight into the center of the trampoline, catapulting her little body (safely) into the air. Now, that little girl isn’t so little anymore. His niece Allison is nearly all grown up, a fifteen-year-old living with her family in Arizona. So, for seven years now, he’s been without his trampoline buddy. And his trampoline. Until now. When we bought our house last summer, the previous owners offered to leave their old trampoline in the yard, free of charge. I was tempted to tell them to simply dispose of it before we took ownership of the property, but Jim was excited about the prospect of future trampoline fun. So we accepted their offer, but for whatever reason, never even tried out the trampoline. It was soon covered with the leaves of fall, and then the snow of winter. But yesterday while he was doing yard work, Jim must have sensed that a new trampoline season was in the air. He walked inside the house with a big grin and asked the girls if they wanted to join him outside. They were ecstatic, and after we bundled them up, they eagerly headed toward the giant contraption in the yard. But once we picked them up and set them inside, Becky had a change of heart. My little adventure-seeker was not so keen about feeling the floor bend and sway under her feet. She screamed in panic and begged to be held. Jim picked her up and assured her that jumping was fun, but she was not going to be convinced. After a while, she consented to sit on her daddy, but she wouldn’t set foot back on the net. Susie, on the other hand, decided that she loved the weightless, buoyant trampoline experience, and was all too happy to bounce in circles around her sister and dad. Becky soon joined me on terra firma and we let Susie and Jim do all the jumping. They had a blast bouncing away, and I think I saw a youthful giddiness in Jim’s step as he once again enjoyed seeing a beloved child delight in the simple pleasures of a trampoline. As an avid reader myself, nothing makes me happier than seeing my girls enjoy a good book. However, sometimes they “enjoy” their books with a rougher touch than I would like. It’s a pretty frequent occasion in this house to hear a telltale rrrrippp sound, followed by an “Oops!” and then a “Mommy, fix it with tape!” (The girls think Scotch Tape is equivalent to miracle glue, by the way; they expect tape to fix broken dolls, toys, crayons, etc.). For the vast majority of our book collection, I don’t mind sacrificing a page or two on behalf of their literary pursuits. However, there is one book that I rarely let them handle because of its age and its importance to me: A 1961 edition of The Little Engine That Could. It was given to me by my maternal grandfather when I was two years old, and it includes an inscription from him (the smudges you see in the picture are my efforts to obscure our last names for security purposes). I just love his handwriting. Because he passed away early in my childhood, I don’t have many things to remember him by, so this book is especially precious to me. I can’t thank my Gramma enough for saving it for me and my kids! The other night, Jim got out the book to read to the girls. I can just imagine my Grandpa reading it to me and later on, my sister, with the same love and affection in his voice. I love the classic illustrations, as well as the classic message of the book. I haven’t been feeling well physically these last few days, and I’ve needed to remind myself of the Little Engine’s persistence and fortitude. Whenever I feel like I’m chugging up a hill with a heavy load (or a heavy belly), I hope I can echo the words, “I think I can. I think I can!” And I know, that when my strength fails me, as it always will, I have my Lord and Savior to lean on. His blessed words are even sweeter to my soul: “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28). The other night the girls and I were driving home from running errands and I spotted the lights of a police car who had pulled someone over to the side of the road. I figured this was as “teachable” a moment as any, and I asked the girls if they knew what police officers did. When I didn’t hear a response, I informed them that it was the police’s job to discipline people who have done something wrong, like broken the rules of the road. When we came upon the scene and the girls saw the blue and red flashing lights for themselves, I heard one of them mutter in the backseat: “Uh oh…someone’s getting a bare bum fankin’ (spanking)!” If only all the wrongs in the world could be righted by a well-timed swat to the rear! I may not be the world’s thriftiest individual, but as far as I know, I have never literally thrown money down the drain. I can’t say the same for my daughters. Yesterday, I noticed my garbage disposal was making an awful racket and I asked Jim to look at it when he came home from work. He obliged and rummaged his hand around in the drain for a few minutes and then looked up in surprise and informed me, “There’s a coin in there.” It dawned on me that the girls had been playing with a few nickels out of my wallet earlier in the evening, and when I asked them to clean up the family room before bedtime, in all probability, one of them tossed the coin in the sink in an effort to quickly rid the area of toys. After all, they see me throw all manner of food and dishes into the sink. Why not money? We were able to remove the offending nickel from the drain, and although it’s a bit worse for wear thanks to the garbage disposal’s valiant destructive efforts, I believe it’s still usable. I didn’t think I was going to have to start teaching the girls the value of money until later on in life. I guess I better get started, or else risk having larger denominations flushed down the toilet! I think…I pray…that our family is all healthy…finally. I wasn’t so sure as of yesterday evening. Becky had been good all day Saturday, and so we decided to get out the house as a family. We had all piled in the car to drive up to see my in-laws and got about 15 minutes from home when I heard an all-too-familiar sound of sickness in the backseat. I turned around, expecting to see a sick Becky, but to my consternation I saw that it was Susie who had gotten sick! I must admit that after I cleaned her up and we turned the car around to head back home, I shed a few bitter tears of frustration and self-pity. I was not looking forward to another week-long stint as a nurse. But thankfully, it must have been an isolated incident of car sickness, because Susie hasn’t displayed any signs of illness since then. She’s been her normal, jubilant self. I’m still watching her like a hawk for any turn for the worse, but as of right now, I am thankful we seem to all be in the clear. Phew. |
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