Spring Break Delirium

After three days without mommy, glad to see that I'm not the ONLY delirious one in the house.

Spring Break 2012, baby!!!!!!!

Confessions of a Recovering Introvert

A lot of people would say that I toe the line between confident and cocky.

I'm OK with that, but it's important that these same people know and understand that it's not the whole story. I've actually worked my whole life to "coach up" a shy little boy.

The image above was a fifth-grade art project. I distinctively remember my parents asking my teacher why I was looking down. She replied: "He always has his head down."

So, maybe I've continuously over-compensated since the fifth grade, but that bashful and unsure little boy has always been lurking. Even today, I have to do everything in my power to keep him from storming the castle.

Sometimes friends, family and "fans" provide necessary reinforcement – a shot of confidence that squashes any doubt and/or uncertainty that I've allowed to creep in.

I wanted to share an e-mail that I received from my friend Paige. She is one of my "Live the List" adoptees. She sent me this message after reading one of my blog posts.

As a word of encouragement, I think you're doing the right thing in life. A lot of excuse makers in the world. People need mentors.

My father-in-law works for the city of Irving. Loves his job. It doesn't provide much but they get by...barely. Six kids. In drawers around the house you will find novels and/or short stories he's written. Often Barry thinks of giving up cartooning/illustration as it provides no stable/primary income. I tell him that my children will not find his work hidden in drawers some day because he gave up on what he loved.

My mom went to Trimble Tech, which is a vocational school, because she wanted to do cosmetology. Her GUIDANCE COUNSELOR basically told her she would be better off as a secretary. My mom is a secretary. I'm sure she is a good one. But I think her real talent is cosmetology, never fully developed. My mom also believes she has no talent.

My uncle is a GREAT western, bronze sculptor. Mountain men, Indians, wildlife. It is very expensive to get them cast in bronze, so most of his stuff was just wax as he worked on them. He moved to Houston to (give up himself) take care of his ailing uncle and aunt. They could not understand why he wasted time doing the sculptures when he had a good job. He kept them in their back add-on. One weekend when he was out of town, my aunt turned off the window unit to the room. Years of work melted, along with part of his soul. Has not done art since.

Like your blog said, it is sad to watch people never find their potential and their gifts and live in complacency. Looking forward to the website. Write your book.

While the entire e-mail is wonderfully great and powerful, the last three words were inspiring.

Write. Your. Book.

Thank you, Paige.

Sincerely,

A recovering introvert

MOM: 'Live Every Minute'

Just received a wonderfully great text message from my mom. Just ANOTHER reminder that things move fast...

"Reality Check...Driving to Wichita Falls and saw signboard for MSU. Dad said: 'Wasn't it about 20 years ago we were driving up here with Drew to checkout Midwestern.' "

My mom responded "No way!" Then, she thought about it.

The rest of her text message:

"Then I realized it was ONLY 19 1/2 years ago. Live every minute...it goes by way too fast. Kiss C-Man for me. ILY"

As the dad of an up-and-coming two year old, my response was short and sweet: "I already know. TRUST ME!"

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IF YOU LIKED THIS POST, CHECK THESE OUT:

• Advice: Enjoy Every Minute of It – Especially the 'Oatmeal Kisses'

• Life Has No Rewind Button – You Might As Well Live 'Full Throttle'

• Son's scream of death has scared me away from enjoying daily blessing

Raise Your Eyebrows and Pass Your Judgement, BUT Don't Take Away My Son's 'Ove' Glove

I catch a lot of hell and grief about some of my parental philosophies.

OK....that may be a little strong, but I definitely get the raised-eyebrow, disapproving glare more often than not.

Editor’s Note: I definitely don’t claim to be a parenting expert, but I have developed some viewpoints and I’ve started to figure out what works best for Team Myers.

The biggest points of contention, regarding my parental decisions, revolve around the following areas:

• Schedule

• Juice

• Gifts

To keep this post from being too exhausting, I only want to focus on one of these areas today: The gifts. (I’ll compare juice to black tar heroin another day.)

I was inspired to write this post after Crash’s second birthday. Someone said to me: “Please tell me you got him a present.”

Their eyebrow was already raised before I got the chance to answer.

“Yes, we got him one gift.”

My response did not squash the follow-up glare of judgment

that implied:

"ONLY ONE GIFT?!?!?!?"

I didn’t respond, though, because I can sleep at night knowing that I bought my son something he truly loves – but more importantly, something he genuinely appreciates.

The gift was a cute little school bus made out of recycled material (right). TK and I got it for him because the boy has NEVER met a “bool bus” that he didn’t love.

Random question: Is there a World Record for the number of times you can listen to “The Wheels on the Bus?” Just askin’.

Anyway, that was it – one “bool bus” for little Crash.

Confession 1: There are moments when I wonder if I’m depriving my son. (This usually hits me when we walk down the toy aisle at Target, and he starts acting like a hoarder at a garage sale.)

Confession 2: I personally get bored playing with the same toys over and over again.

It doesn’t take long for me to regain my focus, though: Love. Appreciation. Not going to raise a spoiled brat.

That’s my altruistic mind-set.

But I also wanted to share my common-sense rational: HE’S TWO! He thinks Tupperware and red solo cups are entertaining!

I will always provide for my son, and try to give him everything he wants and/or needs. But until he stops being amused by pocket change and cooking utensils – why compromise the college fund for some toys that won’t be touched?

The picture below tells a wonderfully great story and does a better job of supporting my stance on gifts:


Here’s an itemized list of his self-created activity:

• The ‘Ove’ Glove

• Deck of cards

• Cookie sheet

• Kitchen tongs

• Mini- spatula

• Rubber spatula

• Three cents

• Toy car

• Washcloth

• My wallet

So raise your eyebrows all you want and share your disapproving point of view, but please do it as your kid plays with the mixing bowl and the oven mitts.

Editor’s Note 2: They do NOT accept the ace of spades in lieu of a credit card at Starbucks.

If Life Was a Movie Poster...