Cheers

05 20 14_0001

When I was a kid, the end of the school year was brutal. I was ready for a languid, lazy summer by mid-April.  My brain, which generally fired on all 4 cylinders, was limping toward the finish line on a flat tire and a crappy suspension. The days were warm and my feet were sore.  The idea of finishing my diorama on Jamestown was more torturous than being trapped in a pit of snakes.

Turns out I still feel that way.

The moms who drove our carpool back then must have sensed this fatigue because at least once a week that last month of school, one of them would stop on the way home and get us Slurpees. Everyone had a favorite concoction. Mine was a Coke Slurpee with a thin layer of cherry in the middle. Read more...

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It’s not the size of the dog in the fight, it’s the size of the fight in the dog

It’s that time of year. The warm weather spells a deathknell for all sorts of fun for our family. Warm weather means blisters. Lots of them. Warm weather means the carefree running around that the boys and I enjoy in the cold must be once again shelved until the winter months return. When it’s 90 degrees, even walking through the parking lot causes blisters.

I can handle it. I know my limitations. I know when to say “no I can’t do that” – even if I really want to. I know how to be okay with being different. I know that it made me stronger – even if it hurt in the process.  I know how to compartmentalize disappointment and pain.  I’ll survive. Read more...

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