I have to get some things off my chest in light of the Sandy Hook tragedy. You may not agree, and that's OK...
1. Guns. I grew up in a house with guns. Several of them. I know many of my friends who grew up the same. In my 13 years of grade school, no one ever brought a gun to school. The biggest threat we had was kids getting on the wrong bus to go home, or some idiot who wanted to get out of taking a test would call in a bomb threat and we'd all have to go sit out on the football field for an hour. No on ever showed up with a gun, much less shot anyone. Guns are not the major issue here. School shootings are an indirect result of a society that has become a culture of mental instability, a lack of self-respect or value of life. I meet children who speak to their parents like they are worthless individuals that just happen to be living under the same roof, yet they get away with it. Children are exposed to adult content too early and they become desensitized to it all by the time they reach their teenage years. I do believe that we, as a nation, should come up with stricter gun laws. But I don't think this would solve the problem. When is the last time you met a criminal that cared a lick about laws? I remember in high school how easy it was to get our hands on alcohol. I remember getting drunk at a field party. Did I care that I was only 17, and 4 years too young to be drinking? No. I did not. However, that was in 1999. Obviously things have changed.
2. God. In elementary school we recited the Pledge of Allegiance every morning. A student would get on the intercom in the office and lead the school while we all stood by our desks, facing the flag that hung in our classroom with our hand over our hearts. We knew it word for word by the second week of kindergarten. That was the only time we ever mentioned God in school. Of course, today, it is rare to hear that pledge in a school. I'm OK with that. You know why? Because I don't believe you can take God out of anywhere. Regardless of who your God is, you can't remove Him from the person who believes in Him. He goes where we go. I'm so sick of hearing the religious argument, "__(fill in the blank)__ happened because God was taken from the school." I'm sorry, but you're wrong. My God is always with me. I was taught that by my parents, my family and my church and I believe it to be true. It is not the educators' job to teach your child a religion. That's YOUR job as the parent, if you chose to do so. Learning morals and values starts at home. Your child's teacher builds upon those universal values by leading and teaching in a loving, kind and nurturing way. Whether the teacher is Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist, or Atheist, he or she will love your child and teach your child with the highest of moral standards that comes naturally to all teachers that are truly called to teach. If you want your child to be taught in an atmosphere that is exclusive to one of those religions, put him in a private school that offers that setting.
3. Mental illness. For whatever reason, mental illness and development disorders are the red headed step children of the medical world. Insurance doesn't want to cover it, people don't want to talk about it, and children and adults a like are secretly shunned because they suffer from it. I have been affected directly on this issue in more ways than one and what I have observed infuriates me. Public schools, in general, are not equipped to educate children with mental or developmental issues. They are cast out to the side and their parents are left to wonder how in the world they are going to get them through graduation without wanting to jump off a building. Mental health professionals, in general, are quick to drown patients in medication rather than offering therapy to work through their issues. Medication they quickly become dependent on. It then takes 10 times the effort to wean off the medicines than it would to work through the underlying issues that presented in the beginning. I am NOT saying all mentally ill people can do without medication. I am suggesting that some mentally ill and developmentally challenged individuals need only a specific plan of action and a qualified, caring professional to help them work through their challenges.
4. Westboro. They are NOT baptist. They are NOT a church. Westboro (and I won't even say their full name) is a hate group. The media and the general public need to stop referring to them as a baptist church. This group of people participate in hate crimes against humanity. Hate crimes are illegal, therefore they should be prohibited to "practicing their right to free speech." Wake up folks.
Our country is so quick to lay blame on someone else or a certain policy when tragedy occurs. Perhaps WE are to blame. We, as a nation, are doing our children an injustice. The United States of America is more concerned about foreign policy, the "sanctity of marriage", unborn babies and marijuana rather than focusing on the important stuff. The people of this nation are suffering because our country can't get our priorities straight. Yet, we (parents) are supposed to teach our children to be responsible adults and set appropriate priorities?
I see a problem here. Or maybe I've just lost my mind.
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
FIVE
Did you hear? I have a 5-year-old.
1...2...3...4...5.
Five years of giggles, bedtime stories, bubble baths, walks, trips to the park, and playing catch. 60 months of snuggles, kissing boo boos, saying prayers, wiping tears, looking for the moon, and counting stars. 260 weeks of peek-a-boo, coloring, racing cars, listening for trains and chasing firetrucks. 1,825 days of waffles for breakfast, chocolate milk, building sand castles, pretending we can fly, and playing in the rain. 43,800 hours of cooking together, answering "why?", monkey hugs, cow kisses and the most beautiful brown eyes I've ever seen. 2,628,000 minutes of dancing, drumming, singing and painting in the kitchen. 157,680,000 seconds of thanking God for my smart, witty, beautiful, sweet Ryan.
How on earth did I get so lucky to be blessed with such a remarkable child?
Ryan,
You are a remarkable little boy with a big heart. I am so proud to be your mother. You will move mountains, son!
Happy Birthday precious boy. I love you!
~Mommy
1...2...3...4...5.
Five years of giggles, bedtime stories, bubble baths, walks, trips to the park, and playing catch. 60 months of snuggles, kissing boo boos, saying prayers, wiping tears, looking for the moon, and counting stars. 260 weeks of peek-a-boo, coloring, racing cars, listening for trains and chasing firetrucks. 1,825 days of waffles for breakfast, chocolate milk, building sand castles, pretending we can fly, and playing in the rain. 43,800 hours of cooking together, answering "why?", monkey hugs, cow kisses and the most beautiful brown eyes I've ever seen. 2,628,000 minutes of dancing, drumming, singing and painting in the kitchen. 157,680,000 seconds of thanking God for my smart, witty, beautiful, sweet Ryan.
How on earth did I get so lucky to be blessed with such a remarkable child?
Ryan,
You are a remarkable little boy with a big heart. I am so proud to be your mother. You will move mountains, son!
Happy Birthday precious boy. I love you!
~Mommy
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Put Me In The Zoo
I commonly refer to my family as a circus and me the circus manager. It fits. It's entertaining. It's fun. Well, after the last couple weeks, I'm not sure that analogy fits anymore. Circuses are well thought out, planned and structured. Every once in a while we'll hear of a freak accident where the tiger goes off on his handler or the elephant plows through the crowd, but for the most part, circus animals and people on stage are trained (or terrified) and respond on command to complete their tasks to entertain a crowd.
No, we're not a circus. We're entertaining and fun, but there's no structure and the planned days are scarce. We are a zoo. While entertaining, zoos allow their animals to roam free and do whatever it is that makes them happy. Other than feeding time, they lack structure. People come and watch the animals in the zoo in their natural habitat, not some crazy, delusional production where tigers are jumping through hoops of fire and elephants are giving each other piggyback rides.
The Dipp zoo has special kinds of animals though. We have morphing animals. We have lions that morph into monkeys that morph into birds that morph into... well, you get it.
My Mimi used to read to me when I was little. It was one of my favorite things to do with her. One of my favorite books she would read is a Dr. Seuss book, Put Me In The Zoo. If you aren't familiar with the read, it is about a Leopard named Spot. He wants to live in the zoo, but ultimately decides that the circus is the best fit for him as that is where he can best showcase his talents. Perhaps my childhood love for this book was a foreshadowing of my future. My future of being 'put in the zoo'. Ironically, I have purchased this book for Liam for our new family tradition, 12 books of Christmas. I can't wait to read it to him.
Ryan received some hand-me-down Spiderman pajamas from a friend last week. Tonight he wore them for the first time and realized the shirt had "web wings". My soon-to-be five-year-old immediately began jumping from the couch to the ottoman, and while flying through the air, he yelled "SPIDER SPIDER SPIDER!!"
After bath time I got one hell of a workout while attempting to dry my crazed, slippery, 2-year-old, half-monkey child while simultaneously preventing him from falling on a wet floor and keep the door shut while he pitched a fit to get at his brother before Ryan could get to his trains. Not an hour after his bath, Liam had an unfortunate accident with a Pediasure Sidekicks 'milk shake' that left his hair soaked and smelly and the bedroom walls needing to be cleaned.
On any given night, if you were to walk in our home, you would find Ryan racing around the "track" that our kitchen, living room and dining room double as, kicking balls through the house or jumping off the top of the Little Tikes climber. You will find Liam standing on tables, coloring on himself, getting into the tupperware cabinet, or emptying out the desk. During these colder months the basketball goal, bikes and various balls have found their way into the house. If you stepped in, you may or may not get smacked in the face by a ball that has just been kicked during a game of indoor soccer. If you have dinner with us, it is likely that you will end up with part of Liam's dinner in your hair, on your plate or in your lap. You may walk into a dance party in our kitchen, complete with all 43 instruments we own. You'll also hear dogs barking, children squeeling, and lovely background Pandora music that sometimes doesn't really fit the mood. You'll find dirty dishes in the sink, a pile of laundry and sometimes you'll find sticky floors. You'll also find a laid back mother who enjoys allowing her children express themselves in their own home.
So, no. Our home doesn't fit with the orderly standards of a circus. We're simply a zoo. A crazy, unstructured, free-spirited home with half-crazed, borderline-barbaric children. We act in our natural ways and only have semi-structured feeding times. We have lions, tigers, and bears... OH MY! We have fun, we have excitement, and we have love.
Yes please, Put me in the Zoo!
No, we're not a circus. We're entertaining and fun, but there's no structure and the planned days are scarce. We are a zoo. While entertaining, zoos allow their animals to roam free and do whatever it is that makes them happy. Other than feeding time, they lack structure. People come and watch the animals in the zoo in their natural habitat, not some crazy, delusional production where tigers are jumping through hoops of fire and elephants are giving each other piggyback rides.
The Dipp zoo has special kinds of animals though. We have morphing animals. We have lions that morph into monkeys that morph into birds that morph into... well, you get it.
My Mimi used to read to me when I was little. It was one of my favorite things to do with her. One of my favorite books she would read is a Dr. Seuss book, Put Me In The Zoo. If you aren't familiar with the read, it is about a Leopard named Spot. He wants to live in the zoo, but ultimately decides that the circus is the best fit for him as that is where he can best showcase his talents. Perhaps my childhood love for this book was a foreshadowing of my future. My future of being 'put in the zoo'. Ironically, I have purchased this book for Liam for our new family tradition, 12 books of Christmas. I can't wait to read it to him.
Ryan received some hand-me-down Spiderman pajamas from a friend last week. Tonight he wore them for the first time and realized the shirt had "web wings". My soon-to-be five-year-old immediately began jumping from the couch to the ottoman, and while flying through the air, he yelled "SPIDER SPIDER SPIDER!!"
After bath time I got one hell of a workout while attempting to dry my crazed, slippery, 2-year-old, half-monkey child while simultaneously preventing him from falling on a wet floor and keep the door shut while he pitched a fit to get at his brother before Ryan could get to his trains. Not an hour after his bath, Liam had an unfortunate accident with a Pediasure Sidekicks 'milk shake' that left his hair soaked and smelly and the bedroom walls needing to be cleaned.
On any given night, if you were to walk in our home, you would find Ryan racing around the "track" that our kitchen, living room and dining room double as, kicking balls through the house or jumping off the top of the Little Tikes climber. You will find Liam standing on tables, coloring on himself, getting into the tupperware cabinet, or emptying out the desk. During these colder months the basketball goal, bikes and various balls have found their way into the house. If you stepped in, you may or may not get smacked in the face by a ball that has just been kicked during a game of indoor soccer. If you have dinner with us, it is likely that you will end up with part of Liam's dinner in your hair, on your plate or in your lap. You may walk into a dance party in our kitchen, complete with all 43 instruments we own. You'll also hear dogs barking, children squeeling, and lovely background Pandora music that sometimes doesn't really fit the mood. You'll find dirty dishes in the sink, a pile of laundry and sometimes you'll find sticky floors. You'll also find a laid back mother who enjoys allowing her children express themselves in their own home.
So, no. Our home doesn't fit with the orderly standards of a circus. We're simply a zoo. A crazy, unstructured, free-spirited home with half-crazed, borderline-barbaric children. We act in our natural ways and only have semi-structured feeding times. We have lions, tigers, and bears... OH MY! We have fun, we have excitement, and we have love.
Yes please, Put me in the Zoo!
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
3-0
Wow... I'm 30. How'd that happen?
The past few days I've been distracted with getting older. This is really getting in the way of concentrating on various day to day things in my life. For whatever reason, I just can't fathom how I got here. 30, 3-0, thirty, 3 tens, 15 times 2... whatever, it's 30. I'm 30.
When I was 15, thirty was middle-aged and forty was OLD. I was thinking about that yesterday when I left work. There are some things that I have naturally let go of being a full-time, working, married mother of two small boys. I don't have the time for myself like I used to. Not that I was ever very prissy to begin with. Brett describes me as a 'jeans & hoodie girl', which is true, but sometimes I do like to get dolled up and pretend I'm a high maintenance woman. So, in a fit of terror that my 15-year-old self now considers me "middle-aged" I went off the deep end and dyed my hair last night. I used to do this all the time. From 16 years old until Ryan was born, my natural hair color was never known. Up until last night, I had dishwater brown hair. Last night I went 'dark mahogany brown'. Tonight I'll add some auburn streaks maybe. Whoa chick... slow down! You're living on the edge! Middle-aged my ass... take THAT hair!
Next on the list?
* New work out plan... I certainly can't be 'Dirty 30' with excess flab hanging from my stomach and rear end. I'm going an all-girls vaca this weekend to Charleston with the ladies of my family. Monday will be the start of my re-introduction of P90x, which I started about 2 months ago, but abruptly quit for no real reason other than laziness.
* Diet... not that I need to lose weight, I just need to tone up, but my eating habits need to change. I WILL NOT fall victim to the old-age metabolism monster. I've heard about it all my life. One day my metabolism will just disappear and it will be gone forever. I'm not playing that game. Changing my diet will go hand-in-hand with my new work out plan. While I'm at it, maybe I'll sign up for a triathlon. Take that 30!
* Laugh lines... I have parenthesis on my face and I don't like it. They have to go. Since I'm middle-aged, I'll surrender to the middle-aged creams and potions that promise to keep a youthful face. It will be like a science experiment! Ahhh... high school all over again!
* Underwear over haul... My underwear must suggest that I'm 'dirty 30' not 'new mommy'. Dirty in the turn-my-husband-on sense, not the I-haven't-bathed-in-2-days sense. My children are not infants, we're passed the stage of forgetting to take a shower because I'm tending to the baby.
* Boobs... Yeah, I'm getting them. I've gone long enough without them. I am a woman. My boys will probably be boob men since each of them stole mine from me. I am taking control back and buying me a set. Nothing over the top, but I have a consultation next week... we'll see what the doc says.
Pardon me, I'm going to get mushy for a minute... Looking back, I think about ALL the things I did in my twenties; amazing events, once in a lifetime experiences, trying times, devastating events, pure happiness, shock, joy, all of it. I've experienced and accomplished a tremendous amount of things and crossed many items off my life's to-do list. They've all had some way of molding me and changing me for the good and the bad. In retrospect, there are only a few things I might would change, but for the most part, I'm proud of my twenties. My teens? Well, I'm proud of those too. Proud that I was a level headed kid for the most part, only making "small" mistakes. Small in the sense that none of them were massively life-changing choices. However, some may have been borderline. I was never arrested, never fell to recreational drugs, never got pregnant, and made decent grades in school. I was going to share some of my teenage antics, but my children may read this one day, and I certainly don't want them to get any ideas. I'll keep my mouth shut.
So there... I'm trying very hard to embrace this 30 thing. I may not be the best at aging gracefully, but I'm only on day 1. Hopefully I have many more days to work on it. Practice makes perfect.
The past few days I've been distracted with getting older. This is really getting in the way of concentrating on various day to day things in my life. For whatever reason, I just can't fathom how I got here. 30, 3-0, thirty, 3 tens, 15 times 2... whatever, it's 30. I'm 30.
When I was 15, thirty was middle-aged and forty was OLD. I was thinking about that yesterday when I left work. There are some things that I have naturally let go of being a full-time, working, married mother of two small boys. I don't have the time for myself like I used to. Not that I was ever very prissy to begin with. Brett describes me as a 'jeans & hoodie girl', which is true, but sometimes I do like to get dolled up and pretend I'm a high maintenance woman. So, in a fit of terror that my 15-year-old self now considers me "middle-aged" I went off the deep end and dyed my hair last night. I used to do this all the time. From 16 years old until Ryan was born, my natural hair color was never known. Up until last night, I had dishwater brown hair. Last night I went 'dark mahogany brown'. Tonight I'll add some auburn streaks maybe. Whoa chick... slow down! You're living on the edge! Middle-aged my ass... take THAT hair!
Next on the list?
* New work out plan... I certainly can't be 'Dirty 30' with excess flab hanging from my stomach and rear end. I'm going an all-girls vaca this weekend to Charleston with the ladies of my family. Monday will be the start of my re-introduction of P90x, which I started about 2 months ago, but abruptly quit for no real reason other than laziness.
* Diet... not that I need to lose weight, I just need to tone up, but my eating habits need to change. I WILL NOT fall victim to the old-age metabolism monster. I've heard about it all my life. One day my metabolism will just disappear and it will be gone forever. I'm not playing that game. Changing my diet will go hand-in-hand with my new work out plan. While I'm at it, maybe I'll sign up for a triathlon. Take that 30!
* Laugh lines... I have parenthesis on my face and I don't like it. They have to go. Since I'm middle-aged, I'll surrender to the middle-aged creams and potions that promise to keep a youthful face. It will be like a science experiment! Ahhh... high school all over again!
* Underwear over haul... My underwear must suggest that I'm 'dirty 30' not 'new mommy'. Dirty in the turn-my-husband-on sense, not the I-haven't-bathed-in-2-days sense. My children are not infants, we're passed the stage of forgetting to take a shower because I'm tending to the baby.
* Boobs... Yeah, I'm getting them. I've gone long enough without them. I am a woman. My boys will probably be boob men since each of them stole mine from me. I am taking control back and buying me a set. Nothing over the top, but I have a consultation next week... we'll see what the doc says.
Pardon me, I'm going to get mushy for a minute... Looking back, I think about ALL the things I did in my twenties; amazing events, once in a lifetime experiences, trying times, devastating events, pure happiness, shock, joy, all of it. I've experienced and accomplished a tremendous amount of things and crossed many items off my life's to-do list. They've all had some way of molding me and changing me for the good and the bad. In retrospect, there are only a few things I might would change, but for the most part, I'm proud of my twenties. My teens? Well, I'm proud of those too. Proud that I was a level headed kid for the most part, only making "small" mistakes. Small in the sense that none of them were massively life-changing choices. However, some may have been borderline. I was never arrested, never fell to recreational drugs, never got pregnant, and made decent grades in school. I was going to share some of my teenage antics, but my children may read this one day, and I certainly don't want them to get any ideas. I'll keep my mouth shut.
So there... I'm trying very hard to embrace this 30 thing. I may not be the best at aging gracefully, but I'm only on day 1. Hopefully I have many more days to work on it. Practice makes perfect.
Friday, October 19, 2012
Puzzle Pieces
I've learned over the years that people come into one's life for many reasons and for different amounts of time. Some come in, stay a while, leave and come back. Others are gone forever. Some live in your heart and some you just wish would run far away. Whether you are spiritual or not, you can't deny there are lessons to be learned from each of these people. Some leave lasting impressions that you will never forget or spend the rest of your life trying to live up to being even half of what they were.
These people, the bad ones and the good ones, make me who I am. It's amazing to me that my life could have gone in hundreds of directions all depending on who crossed my path at various times. I would have never known that choosing to say hello to that girl I passed in the hallway would led to a deeper friendship than I could ever imagine. Choosing that one extracurricular activity over the others led to a lifetime of priceless friendships all over the country and a lifetime of heartache all at the same time. Choosing to change my course of study led to me meeting the man of my dreams. Choosing to stand up and not back down led me down a path to a career that I love. Decisions are like puzzle pieces that somehow fit together when it's all said and done. Decisions come with people. People come with love. I'd hate to envision my life without the people and love that make it how wonderful it is.
The last few months I've struggled a bit with what kind of wife, mom, friend, daughter I've become. In many ways, I want to do better. However, I also believe I deserve to give myself credit, which is what I struggle with. Over the past few weeks, various people have said things to me that I needed to hear. They may not have realized it, but they have made a difference.
I am a lucky woman and I am blessed by those who have walked in and out of my life.
"In everyone's life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit." ~ Albert Schweitzer
These people, the bad ones and the good ones, make me who I am. It's amazing to me that my life could have gone in hundreds of directions all depending on who crossed my path at various times. I would have never known that choosing to say hello to that girl I passed in the hallway would led to a deeper friendship than I could ever imagine. Choosing that one extracurricular activity over the others led to a lifetime of priceless friendships all over the country and a lifetime of heartache all at the same time. Choosing to change my course of study led to me meeting the man of my dreams. Choosing to stand up and not back down led me down a path to a career that I love. Decisions are like puzzle pieces that somehow fit together when it's all said and done. Decisions come with people. People come with love. I'd hate to envision my life without the people and love that make it how wonderful it is.
The last few months I've struggled a bit with what kind of wife, mom, friend, daughter I've become. In many ways, I want to do better. However, I also believe I deserve to give myself credit, which is what I struggle with. Over the past few weeks, various people have said things to me that I needed to hear. They may not have realized it, but they have made a difference.
I am a lucky woman and I am blessed by those who have walked in and out of my life.
"In everyone's life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit." ~ Albert Schweitzer
Thursday, September 27, 2012
The Dating Game
Six years, 2 babies and 2 dogs later, Brett and I are sort of acting like an old married couple rather than vibrant, young, party animal, parents. Ok, so we've never really been party animals, but we definitely had more "us" time pre-kids. Obviously. We do LOTS of stuff as a family. We're always on the go. Local festivals, museums, ball games, the beach, the park, out for ice cream, out for dinner, etc... all this stuff we do as a family, which is wonderful, but the only alone time Brett and I get is when we're both snoring.
So, we're re-introducing dating to our relationship! Inspired by our recent trip to the NY Giants game in Charlotte, we've decided we need more husband/wife excitement. We had such a good time at the game and there's absolutely no reason why we can't keep that fun going!
The goal? One real date each month, minimum. Not just your typical dinner and a movie, but new and exciting things that one or both of us have never done, or very rarely do. I'm so excited about our October date!!!
So, we're re-introducing dating to our relationship! Inspired by our recent trip to the NY Giants game in Charlotte, we've decided we need more husband/wife excitement. We had such a good time at the game and there's absolutely no reason why we can't keep that fun going!
The goal? One real date each month, minimum. Not just your typical dinner and a movie, but new and exciting things that one or both of us have never done, or very rarely do. I'm so excited about our October date!!!
Indoor Climbing and dinner at Subway!
You may be saying, "Subway? Really?" This date isn't centered around food. It's all about the activity and spending time together. So since it's an active date, we'll go for something on the lighter side to eat.
Cheers to Mommy & Daddy!
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Superman
My Dear Sweet Boys,
Ryan, today you're 4 and Liam, you're 2. You will not understand until later in your life, (Light years away for you, but a quick blink for me.) but this is important. It could save your life.
You are not invincible. I'll say it again. YOU. ARE. NOT. INVINCIBLE.
Remember those words. One day, you're going to feel larger than life; like even a million grown men can't knock you off the pedestal you're standing on. You're Superman. It's ok. I felt like that too.
Do yourself a favor and don't listen to your ego or your friends. Listen to me. You are not indestructible. Your life is precious. Fragile. Don't take it for granted.
Yes, you are special. No one can do YOU like you do. You are strong, capable, smart, young men. You might be the popular one in school, you might be the bookworm, or the jock. Regardless of what mold you fit in to, do not allow a momentary lapse in judgement to change your life (or your family's life) forever.
Within the past two days, I have learned of two deaths that did not have to happen. Tragic deaths of a 30-year-old man, and a 16-year-old boy in two separate car accidents caused by excessive speed. Speed. Their families are devastated. Over the past 2 days, Ryan, I have quizzed you one the very first thing you do when you get in a vehicle and your answer is always consistent, "Put on your seat belt." Don't forget it. One day, God willing, you will both drive. I want you to enjoy and appreciate your privilege to drive. (Consider yourself lucky if your overly-paranoid mother allows you to acquire this privilege at 16.) The vehicle that you drive is not a toy. It is a weapon. A lethal weapon. Respect it and respect other drivers around you.
Too many lives are taken too soon due to preventable car accidents. The statistics are staggering. Don't be a statistic.
It's ok for you to feel like you're standing on top of the world. It feels good and is great for the soul. But don't get cocky. God is in control. Not you.
Ryan, today you're 4 and Liam, you're 2. You will not understand until later in your life, (Light years away for you, but a quick blink for me.) but this is important. It could save your life.
You are not invincible. I'll say it again. YOU. ARE. NOT. INVINCIBLE.
Remember those words. One day, you're going to feel larger than life; like even a million grown men can't knock you off the pedestal you're standing on. You're Superman. It's ok. I felt like that too.
Do yourself a favor and don't listen to your ego or your friends. Listen to me. You are not indestructible. Your life is precious. Fragile. Don't take it for granted.
Yes, you are special. No one can do YOU like you do. You are strong, capable, smart, young men. You might be the popular one in school, you might be the bookworm, or the jock. Regardless of what mold you fit in to, do not allow a momentary lapse in judgement to change your life (or your family's life) forever.
Within the past two days, I have learned of two deaths that did not have to happen. Tragic deaths of a 30-year-old man, and a 16-year-old boy in two separate car accidents caused by excessive speed. Speed. Their families are devastated. Over the past 2 days, Ryan, I have quizzed you one the very first thing you do when you get in a vehicle and your answer is always consistent, "Put on your seat belt." Don't forget it. One day, God willing, you will both drive. I want you to enjoy and appreciate your privilege to drive. (Consider yourself lucky if your overly-paranoid mother allows you to acquire this privilege at 16.) The vehicle that you drive is not a toy. It is a weapon. A lethal weapon. Respect it and respect other drivers around you.
Too many lives are taken too soon due to preventable car accidents. The statistics are staggering. Don't be a statistic.
It's ok for you to feel like you're standing on top of the world. It feels good and is great for the soul. But don't get cocky. God is in control. Not you.
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