Cannon’s birthday–check
Thanksgiving–tomorrow
Ginormous get-together with the husband’s fam–Friday
Games, decking the halls, food with my fam–Black Friday Night
Hudson’s birthday–oh, yeah? Kinda need to get on that! I at least thought ahead to design some invites. Too bad, I have to pay a whopping amount for shipping just to get them here in a WEEK. So much for inviting people 2 weeks ahead of time. At least they turned out cute:
Well today my first born is three years old. I’m going in a corner to cry now.
Actually, I’ve already cried. The hardest days to go to work are birthdays and those in-between are they sick or not days. I always have grand ideas–lots of balloons in the floor of his room for when he wakes up, candles in some pancakes, rent a fun new movie, cuddle and enjoy the day. Instead, I’m monitoring computer screens, teenagers, and researching political propaganda resources for teachers. (Today didn’t help that I overslept. Staying up until 1 am no longer works for me.)
On a positive note, my baby is 3! He’s potty-trained, can feed himself, be left alone in a room or bath tub (for the most part), and he’s one of the greatest sources of joy in my life. We have hard days, but he puts so many smiles on my face. I told him a couple days ago that he was going to be THREE. He said, “No, Momma, I not three, I Cannon.” 🙂 I love my smart boy. The best part of my day so far was when he came to grab my leg and asked, “hold me, momma?” He’s getting pretty big to hold, but I plan on saying yes to that question as long as possible. No matter how late I am.
Happy 3rd birthday to my red-headed, ever-moving, passionate, full-of-life baby!
In t-minus 17 minutes, I’m heading off with the baby sis to another wedding weekend. This time though, I’m leaving my babies BOTH behind for TWO nights. EEK! I’m praying little man does okay, and they aren’t both awake too much in the night crying for momma and daddy. I just wanted to jot a quick note of something my almost-three-year-old (going on 16 sometimes) said on our way to church last night. It was already dark, and I’d been in a funk–stressed over packing, planning, etc. for the weekend. I think our little ones pick up on waaaaaay more than we realize. Out of the blue, he said, “‘S’okay, Momma, sun comes up.” I teared up hearing his little voice encourage me. He was right. I needed to stop worrying, put aside my anxiousness, and remember that Christ’s mercies are new every morning. From everlasting to everlasting. “Sun comes up.”
So the mighty, mighty Redskins made the playoffs. Glory! (and if I’m being honest, crap.) Game 10 was a nail-biter for sure. (side-note: failed to blog game 9, which was an amazing win against Ada. A very good game, and quite the upset!) Back to game 10. Senior night. Home game. Rivalry. Predicted to lose. My hubby becomes quite the competitor and planner. He came home from work one night all excited about how they were going to “one up” the Panthers. Apparently, they’d gotten wind that Harrah had decided to warm up on their own field and walk onto ours at the last minute. He then got to brainstorming ideas of how they could outdo Harrah’s last minute arrival. Here’s the entrance:
If I’m being honest, I struggle(d) with this entrance. I just feel there’s something to be said for coming on a field quietly, humbly, and THEN defeating a team–kind of an “actions speak louder than words and rap songs” type of thing. However, this entrance and this win made my man the happiest since I’ve seen him in a long time (maybe ever). I told a friend he seemed more excited after their win than he did after the birth of our boys. Also, I know there’s a lot to be said for getting young men “pumped up” before a game. So an amazing win. Down to the wire. (see article for details: http://www.news-star.com/article/20131109/SPORTS/131109736 )I was probably the only one standing and cheering on the outside and crying on the inside. As a coach’s wife (with young kids and a wedding rehearsal two hours away the night of the playoff game) I feel this inner conflict about playoffs. I sincerely WANT them to win. I WANT my husband to do well. I WANT to see him happy and successful, BUT I also WANT him home. 🙂 I miss him during football season, and while I want them to win, part of me is excited when it finally ends. Whew. Confession done. Please don’t hate me. So on to week 11. I won’t get to watch, but I sincerely (okay, now you know the truth, like 85% of me) want them to win! 😉
The Lumpy Place 