Wednesday, May 31, 2006

A New Look, Intro to the Fam and Weirdo Baseball Parents!

Well??? Whaddaya think? Like the new template? I love black, but I got to thinking about it. It didn't look very warm or inviting. Actually, it looked like I was speeding through a black hole in space, and that's not the impression one wants to give off when talking about Jesus now is it?

I wasn't really planning on blogging at this moment, but since I'm already here...I don't believe I have formally introduced my family to you. I'm married to a wonderful man whom I shall call, oh I don't know let me about Sexy Man Of God? No no no, cause then I'd call him SMOG for short and that doesn't sound good. I know! Sweetie Pie! He'll love that.

Sweetie Pie and I (has a nice ring to it don't it?) just celebrated 15 glorious years of marital bliss and harmony. Actually it's more like we survived 15 glorious years of marital bliss and harmony. I'm starting to wonder just how much more bliss we can handle.

We have two fabulous kids. A daughter named Drama Queen (DQ) and a son named Fuddman. Fuddman is currently involved in baseball which brings me to my real topic for today.

Baseball parents are weird people. Have you been to a Little League baseball game lately? If not, you're really missing out on some major entertainment. But if you do decide to take in a game, think about taking some protective headgear or something...those people are deadly. Why do you think the umpires wear all that stuff? It's not the fear of a wayward baseball my friends. Oh no no no. It's to protect them from little Johnny's parents everytime sweet little Major-League-bound Johnny gets a "bad call."

Normal, sweet-tempered, church going moms suddenly turn into snarling potty mouths and men of God come to blows over which kid should play pitcher. Super couples who used to go to bible studies together suddenly have a falling out because of something that happened on the baseball field. Where does all this craziness come from?

I, too, have felt the pull of anger when another kid or another parent says unkind things to Fuddman, or when the umpire calls a strike on something that clearly was a ball. But why? Why is the need for our children to be the "star" so overwhelming? Could it be due to our own selfish desires to live vicariously through our children's victories and accomplishments?

Man, that was a mouthful.

I want my son to do well. I love my son, and each time he succeeds in reaching whatever goal he has set for himself, a thrill of pride runs right through me. But whether my son succeeds all the time or not is not what makes me a complete person or even a great mom. What makes me great is when I teach him to lose with grace or to get back up when he gets knocked down. And it is God, and He alone, who completes me. For me to put that kind of responsibility on my son's shoulders is wrong. So, dear readers pray for me.

I'm off to watch my boy play ball.

Tuesday, May 30, 2006

Long time no blog!

Hey ya'll. Sorry it's been so long...lots of stuff happening. My life has just gone sort of topsy turvy, and well....that just doesn't set to well with moi.

Anyhoo, I've a question for you. Why is it that we are never satisfied with God's approval of us? Why are we constantly worried about what other people think of us instead?

Anyone have an answer for me? I'd love to hear your opinions. By the way, for all of you kind souls who have stopped by my humble abode and left your comments, I appreciate you! It's nice to know that there are others out there who may not necessarily agree with your tactics but still understand what you're going through.

During my silent time I have been trolling a few blogs and I've been following along the adventures of Lovebug and Everyday Mommy. Good stuff! If you haven't had the chance to, stop by her place. I promise you, your time will not be wasted.