08.05.08 You Never Know

“We’ll go in a month,” Becky told Gresham - talking about a trip he’s looking forward to.

“That’s when I have another football camp!!” he yelled - as he does most things. “At football camp coach said in a month was another football camp!”

Football camp, of course, was over more than a month ago and “coach” actually said “in a month” football practice would start, followed by football season.  What Gresham didn’t know until now is that he won’t be playing football this year.  This is because five year-olds playing football in our town - and their parents - are expected to spend several hours every week on multiple practices and a game and that’s not a commitment we’re willing to make since we have two other kids, a full life already and football isn’t essential to the formation of Gresham’s character, spirit, body or the preservation of society as a whole. Sarcastic? Yes, and true.

Though Becky and I both agreed this was the right decision to make (this year), we both still wonder for a second here and there if it’s the right decision.  It could go one of two ways.  Either Gresham grows up to appreciate the boundaries we placed on his early athletic career, to be thankful he learned at an early age that his wants do not supersede the family’s needs, etc etc.  Or he could end up living inside the dumpster of a sporting goods store someday muttering to himself “In a month...coach said football in month...in a month...coach said...football”

You never know.

I was just talking about this parenting problem with a friend who does not have kids at the moment.  I explained that at least fifty times a day I wonder if I make the right parenting decision. Was it the right thing to tell her that, to stop him from doing that, to let her wear that, hear that, to make that rule, to make an exception to that one?  Lots of decisions.  And they fly by.  They’re made in an instant most of the time - no time-out to read a book or phone a friend.  I told her I have no idea which decisions will make a lasting impact for good or bad on my kids.  And, because kids are people and people are different from each other, the same decision may have no negative impact on one of my kids but may land another one on Dr. Phil.

You never know.

So when I meet grown-ups who can’t stop hating and blaming their parents - unless there was some real abuse or neglect back there in the past - I have a hard time mustering empathy.  That’s bad I know, but it’s true.  If they don’t have kids I want to tell them to go make some and then come back and talk to me about how bad mom and dad were when their own kids are sixteen and they’ve logged a few thousand bad calls themselves.  Having kids of your own is the surest way to forgive your own parents for the small mistakes they made - and a good way to make some of their big mistakes seem all-of-a-sudden small. 

But sometimes these whiners have kids of their own and when that’s the case I’m truly amazed that they’re still mad at mom and dad for liking brother more than them, or making them come home at 10, or not letting them date that guy in high school.  “Seriously?,” I want to ask.  “At least you got to play football.”

I’m gonna go feel guilty now.

08.02.08 Goodbye Moderate Temperatures And Green Stuff

I’m leaving Tennessee for Arizona this morning (see Tour Page for details).  I’ve been charged by my seven year-old with the task of taking a picture of a cactus while I’m away.  But she’s half-hearted about it, knowing that the perfect cactus specimen is no match for what we just left in Cherokee National Park.

We spent four days in - seriously - the most beautiful little slice of earth I’ve ever walked.  Greens that look fake in photographs.  The canopy of trees overhead was so dense the space we played on underneath was a cool and dim dusk no matter what time of day. 

A creek ran behind our small wooden cabin - the easy trickle and miscellaneous woodland bug sounds made a nap possible and downright tempting anytime of day.  Sure, there was rain off and on everyday but it kept us cool and gave us big people an excuse to come out of the woods and sit a spell on the porch with a cold plastic cup of sweet tea.

I will miss you, Tennessee.

08.01.08 I’ll Be Taking These Huggies and Whatever Cash Ya Got

I’m heading to Arizona for the weekend - Phoenix and Sierra Vista (See tour page for details).

Which reminds me of a fine film I’ve watched far too many times to still be deemed mentally healthy.  My last year of college (I talk about this briefly in my shows these days), I moved out of an apartment and into half of a garage, shut off the cable and the telephone and the water to save money for a wedding ring.  Before I killed the power altogether, I used to watch the only four movies I owned again and again: Forest Gump, Independence Day, Braveheart and Raising Arizona. 

I only watched while I ate and then I hit pause and headed out the door again for class or work.  I wonder if watching in such short bursts burned these flicks onto my brain more easily than all the stuff in my textbooks because I have almost every line of dialogue from these four movies memorized still and I can’t remember for the life of me the difference between a Neopolitan and German 6 chord.  And, really, how useful is that stuff in books anyway compared to movie dialogue.  Lines from Raising Arizona are particularly useful to have in one’s verbal arsenal: amusing to me, confounding to others.

You’d be amazed how many ways one can use “Boy, you got a panty on your head” or “Not unless round’s funny.” Amazed.  Truly useful stuff.

I’ll blog again from Arizona this weekend...or my name’s not Nathan Arizona.

08.01.08 The Last Day: Your Turn

Today is the last day of the 40 Day Fast.  Head over to Inspired To Action for a recap of the last 40 days and an opportunity to get involved (and get linked).

07.31.08 Me In The Nature

This is me and my son Gresham in the nature.

To be more specific and take up a bit more space, that is me in shorts and a bandana Fundana, flashing a gang sign of some sort while holding a massive fish caught in Rocky Mountain Cherokee National Park.  And a cane pole appears to be protruding from by butt.

I assure you it is not.  It’s difficult to smile so convincingly with a cane pole protruding from one’s butt.  People say.

I am back from vacation and will post more about the fun that was had.  First, I need a shower and my favorite bed in the whole wide world: mine.