Viva Las Mexico

Spending a week in Nuevo Vallarta was amazing, fun and full of adventure. Boogie boarding, zip-lining through the mountains, swimming with the dolphins, kissing the sea lions, eating good food, snorkling, kayaching and jet skiing! No wonder we're so pooped! Can we take a vacation from our vacation?

The Battlefield Victory

Laughter and crying are almost synonymous in our household. You see, what is hysterical one minute suddenly becomes extremely offensive the next. It's a very thin line between love and hate with children giddy on emotion! The contagious sound of giggling boys floating through the air is so joyous, yet sadly, becomes a precursor of what is to follow...ear numbing screaming and crying so wrought with pain and strife that one would think limbs were actually being cut off! Upon further investigation, it becomes apparent that limbs are still intact and only feelings have been bruised. Our once happy household is now a battlefield and I become the referee.

This picture is a perfect example of our daily dilemma. Andrew being our clown, making his brother's laugh and then suddenly, as if on cue, it all turns terribly wrong! The soap bubbles on top of his head are hysterical until, of course, he puts them on someone else. This offense cannot go unnoticed! Screaming, name calling and pushing turns into a full blown war. My drill-Sergeant instincts kick in and I yield my invisible armour as I step into battle. I'm out-numbered and exhausted, but I see a tiny glimpse of hope on the horizon...bedtime is near! While barking orders, I rinse, dry, clothe, brush teeth and send them to their beds...silence falls upon our noisy dwelling. Peace at last! Today's battles are over...but then there is always tomorrow!

Happy Father's Day!

I have to admit, I've been thinking about my dad lately. Sadly, not the wonderful, cozy and feel-good memories, but the painful ones. I think having your own children does that to you: you either really appreciate and admire your parents, or you try your hardest not to become them. Don't get me wrong, I love my dad and so many things about him. He had a smile that was irresistible and a wonderfully contagious laugh. Not only was he handsome, but he had so much hidden talent that he never did tap into. So much wasted potential! He was always very gentle and patient with me as a young girl...just absent. Yes, God had such amazing plans for Thomas, but he chose his own destructive path. Haven't we all done this to a certain degree? I'm so thankful for the Lord's mercy and grace!

My biggest regret in life has been the things I would tell him now. Although I was fortunate to have made peace with him before he died, I'm not sure where he really stood in his relationship with the Lord. I wasn't as mature in my faith then, and I think I failed miserably at really explaining God to him. For that I am so ashamed and regretful. Of course, I talked to him about God, but there were so many things that I had yet to discover about our heavenly Father. So many things I would share with him now that I have learned to be true. My regret has to be laid at the feet of Jesus; my tears bottled up and wiped away by my Lord. "If onlies" are futile. Only God knows where my daddy's soul is spending eternity, and I can't and won't dwell on it. I can only share my love and knowledge of God with my three sons and hope that they stay on the course God has planned for them. So much potential that WILL NOT be wasted! Amen.

Happy Father's Day, Tom. I love you.

My Grandmother's Pearls

After a recent visit with my 86 year-old grandparents on their farm, it left me feeling nostalgic. Watching my children play, explore and discover the same things and places that I had once enjoyed as a girl brought back so many happy memories. It was surreal and wonderful; the circle of life unfolding before my eyes.

My grandmother, perhaps sensing that time was precious, gave me a wonderful gift: her pearl necklace, given to her by my father, as a birthday gift. She kept them in a red jewelry box and carefully placed the box in my hands. "I wanted to make sure you got these because your father gave them to me. I had them restrung; they are pretty, don't you think?" My eyes swelled with tears as I ran the tip of my finger over the lovely strand of pearls. "I love them. Thank you." I said and we hugged, noticing the fragility of her petite body. It was a perfect moment. A memory to be filed away and reflected upon years later. Perhaps someday I will sit with my granddaughter and give her this precious keepsake; completing the circle of life.

Although my life-style doesn't present itself with many opportunities to wear my cherished pearls, perhaps I can imitate June Cleaver and wear them while vacuuming or washing dishes. I could greet my husband with high-heels and pearls, my hair perfectly coiffed and a lightly starched apron tied around a sleeveless sundress...Rod might wonder if he's in the twilight zone or if I gulped down all the cooking sherry! In the meantime, my pearls will represent a cherished keepsake given by those we love.