After the Game

I haven't done any art in five days, at least.  In fact, I really can't remember when I last did art.

This is what I've been doing:

My boy played his last high school basketball game on Friday.  They were Regional Qualifiers but were outscored in the first game of the regional tournament and were on the short end of some really puzzling calls by referees. It was a frustrating and sad end to a really amazing high school basketball career.

I love being a basketball mom. I love being my kids' super fan.  My girl starts high school next year, plays volleyball and basketball, is 5'9" and is still growing.  My boy hopes to continue to play in college.  So there'll be other games.  The super fan shoes will be used again.

Right now, though, we are all still processing this great big, giant, huge LAST.

<3 Lori

Getting Real

I haven't mentioned this for awhile, so some of you might not know or might not remember that I have two teenagers at home.  A while back, I was sitting at a group lunch with my coworkers talking with my boss about kids these days.  She said that the most challenging ages were 13 for girls and 17 for boys.  "Yippee", I thought, "I have one of each." 

Standing, as I often am, on the brink of losing my mind, it's been a really, really, really (REALLY!!!) challenging year or so.  People don't tell you that.  If you believe everything you read on Facebook, you'd think the world (or at least this part of West Texas) is populated with perfect kids and their perfect parents. (Note to self: Unfriend all those people.)

Being checked out by the dolphins in Hawaii this summer.

 

Today's poetic post is for all the imperfect parents and their equally imperfect progeny.

 

Teenagers



Teenager, teenager,

Smart as a whip

You can’t wait ‘til it’s time

For you to jump ship.

 

To take hold of your destiny;

Make your own way;

Be your own person;

Seize your own day.

But take it from me

Being grown up is hard.

It’s more than a valid

State ID card.

 

Along with your freedom

You pay bills and get bosses.

You get to pay taxes

And count stock market losses.

One day, you may have

a teenager, too.

And there’ll be no one dumber

Or more backward than you.

 

Then maybe you’ll come over

And give me a hug.

And tell me you’re grateful.

And I’ll try not to be smug.

 

For I once was also

A smarty pants teen

Who thought that my parents

Were nothing but mean.

Now I will stop,

So I don’t start to bug.

I need to go give

Your grandma a hug.

 

May the good Lord bless us today with infinite patience and infinite peace and may we share those things with all the people in our lives.

 

<3  Lori