It’s that time of the summer – at least for homes with school-aged kids. These are the days when we look up and see Summer’s end creeping ever closer. (boo-hoo-hoo, sob, sob, sob!!) And I watch my kids try – okay I chide them to – complete their Required Summer Reading, I know that a lot of the wonder that could accompany such a task gets lost in the completion of it. “Required reading” tends to be done rather than savored => product over process. The books my kids have on deck this year are actually terrific. Each of them, in their unique genres, has something to offer any reader. I picked one of them up, The Sufferings of Young Werther, and have found myself annotating. I know I’m a complete geek. I’ve even had to order that kid another copy since I’m now keeping his. But will he savor
This morning I got a tiny bit side-tracked. I sat down with my cup of coffee before anyone was awake. And what do you know, but my computer was right at my fingertips. So I opened it. And I remembered something I needed to do. But, I opened iPhoto instead. I’m sure I had something of great purpose on my mind, but in true Motherhood-Induced ADD, I saw something that grabbed my attention. Then that thing led to something else – then to another something else – and before I realized it, I was lost on memory lane – completely oblivious to whatever task started the trek. Oh – but it was such a sweet road to travel. I relished in the silliness, the stuffed animals, the missing teeth, more silliness even at special locations (outside the West Wing) very special & fun friends so much love and smiles (well, smiles
In the midst of pool sounds, some of which were happy, some of which were fight-y, I sneaked a peek at World Cup action. And in doing so, I unexpectedly had my life-isn’t-about-you, it’s-best-to-work-together, never-quit sails filled as I did. For a little background, I’m a soccer novice. Soccer was around when I was young, but I don’t remember it much. Football – YES. Tennis, yes. Softball, volleyball, basketball, and swimming – check. But not soccer. At least not in West Texas. So when I met Jon when we were getting our MBAs at Thunderbird, I really had very little soccer knowledge. It’s hard to imagine we made it past that – considering soccer was Jon’s life. Jon grew up in Bolivia and played the game from the moment he took his first steps. It’s what they did. Kids
“It was so great,” my daughter told us while driving home. Her sister and I had just picked Snopes up after a week at camp. “But I didn’t have a ‘mountaintop’ experience,” she added thoughtfully. “You know, some life changing experience like I hear people talk about.” I was surprised when my daughter signed up to serve at the camp. Not because she’s one to shy away from serving. She genuinely enjoys helping. Her natural giftedness centers on caring for others. My surprise at her signing up to serve for a week at camp had nothing to do with serving, but everything to do with “camp.” My kids, though I desperately tried to make them, don’t much like camp. I’ve forced them all to try. Because camp – in so many ways – is good for kids.