Archive for the ‘Parenting’ category
November 10, 2014
WORDS FROM W.W. November 10, 2014
This is the 400th post to the Words From W.W. blog! Four hundred…a four followed closely by two zeros! To many it may not be that big of an event…but considering I write a post for the blog on average about one and a half times a week it means that I’ve been going at it for six years…like an ultra-marathon runner seeking to make that next mile!
My first post was on December 30, 2008. It was entitled “Missing Mary” and dealt with a nativity scene that had the mother of Jesus get stolen. What’s a nativity scene without Mary? Awkward!
In the next 398 postings I wrote about my parents, about troubling cultural situations, bad theology, people that have influenced my life, children, three year olds, misplaced priorities, and personal confusion. I wrote a few on growing older, getting my senior discount card, and camping with a bunch of young guys.
It’s been fun! I ponder and figure out things best by sitting down in front of a lap top and pecking out about five hundred words. When I say peck I mean peck! I use three fingers in my typing. Don’t ask me where I learned that. I have no clue, but oddly enough I use two fingers on my left hand and one of my right.
Weird!
Here’s another weird thing. I flunked my first quarter of English Composition at Miami University in Oxford, Ohio. I guess I didn’t compose very well! I also didn’t go to class very well! Since then I’ve had two books published, written several magazine article, and now do this “blog thing.”
Some day I want to write a third book. I’ve started and flushed it several times. Currently, I’m back in the starting phase again and it is hidden deep within my files on this lap top.
Speaking of lap tops, when I started Words from W.W. I had a Dell. About two years ago it had to go into lap top hospice care and the tech repair guy advised me to say my goodbyes. I watched it cough its last and then headed to the Apple store. Grief does not run deep when you are dealing with Dell!
Later this week I’ll write post #401. It will deal with something that God puts on my mind. I don’t know what that is yet. With the election over there’s not much to write about…false! My next post may deal with falling gas prices, raising expectations, why did God create beets, or Starbucks…which is where I’m writing these words!
Time for a refill!
Categories: children, Christmas, Humor, Parenting, Pastor, Story, The Church, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: 400, Apple, blog, blogs, Dell, English Composition, lap top, Miami University, posts, writing
Comments: 1 Comment
October 31, 2014
WORDS FROM W.W. October 30, 2014
This year I’m teaching the three and four year old’s Sunday School class. It’s not often that the pastor teaches a class like that, but I’m enjoying it. Some would say that I’ve finally found some people that I can relate to! Each Sunday a mixture of excited and apprehensive kids enter the classroom. One of them, a little boy, who just turned three, named Ben, usually has his cowboy boots on as he arrives at “Sonshne Club.”
Ben has not reached that age where his speech is clear, as is also the case for a couple of the other kids in the class…but he’s not afraid to speak!
Last night he came bopping into the church gym with his mom and little sister and said a few words to me that I couldn’t make out. It was at that point that his mom told me that he was saying hello, but he refers to me as “God!”
He thinks I’m God! I’ve been called a few other names in my lifetime, but I think this is the first time I’ve been mistakenly named God. It’s a big responsibility to carry! I’ve known some people who act like they are God, but not too many who get named God. I’ve always been “Billy” or “Billy Dean.” Back in high school I was nicknamed “Beowulf”, which got shortened to “Beo.” Bill Wolfe sounds remarkably like Beowulf, especially if your sophomore English class is reading the story at the time.
But back to God…in one three year old cowboy-booted boy’s eyes I’m God. I’m sure that won’t last for long, and someday soon I’ll be renamed Pastor Bill, but for now I’m the Man with a Plan, the Head Honcho, the Almighty and Up-righty!
On the positive side, when someone thinks your God it makes you step back a bit and think about what you’re doing and what you’re saying. If Ben continues to seek God he will remember whether or not I was a godly reflection.
After all, each follower of Jesus is a reflection of Christ. Sometimes the reflection is tainted and confusing, and sometimes it’s a Christ-honoring picture.
This Sunday when Ben comes strolling into class looking like a Pony Express rider and calling me God I’ll tell him he’s blessed and that God loves him. He will probably respond with a few words that I may not be able to decipher, so I’ll smile, give him a high-five, and tell him it’s good to have him in God’s class!
Amen!
Categories: Bible, children, Christianity, Faith, Humor, Jesus, Parenting, Pastor, Story, The Church, Uncategorized
Tags: Beowulf, God, mistaken identity, nicknames, reflecting Christ, Sunday School, teaching, teaching three year olds, three year olds
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October 23, 2014
WORDS FROM W.W. October 23, 2014
Our family recently spent five days at Disney World. Seven of us trudged to the airport at 4:30 in the morning to catch a flight towards Goofy and his friends. For five days we side-stepped strollers and motorized wheelchairs to make our way through the Magic Kingdom and its side-kicks…Epcot, Hollywood Studios, and Animal Kingdom. It was a family trip to remember!
The last time we had been to Disney World was twenty years ago when our oldest daughter, Kecia, was turning 13. It was evident that she was as excited to return again this time as she had been in 1994. Her excitement this time, however, was not due to her own anticipation of riding on the “It’s A Small World” attraction once again, but rather to watch the reactions of her kids to the Disney mystique.
They were enthralled by the experience. Riding on Dumbo…having lunch at the Sci-Fi restaurant…meeting Donald Duck at the over-priced character breakfast…taking the mono-rail…wearing Mickey Mouse ears…and seeing the wild animals on their safari ride.
Massive amounts of energy! Wide-eyed wonder!
For me, the best part of the trip was simply being with the family and watching them experience things. Sometimes I enjoyed watching Kecia as she watched her kids!
The magical moments for me weren’t the Disney attractions, but rather things that don’t cost money…like our granddaughter Reagan making up songs in the van on the drive back to the hotel at night…or our grandson Jesse’s open mouth as he went through the Buzz Lightyear ride…or riding “Rockin’ Roller Coaster” with my son…twice! Or eating funnel cakes with Kecia…or seeing the delight on Carol’s face as she saw the enjoyment her family was having.
Although the Magic Kingdom does a magic trick on your bank account…it makes it disappear just like that…our family will always remember the time we had together on this trip.
Interestingly enough, my Aunt Irene paid for our 1994 Disney trip. She was battling cancer. Having no children of her own she gave a sum of money to each of our twelve nieces and nephews while she was still living. Her request was that we use it on something that we would enjoy…while she was still alive to see it! Six months after we went to Disney World she passed away, but she was thrilled that we had taken the family vacation to Florida.
When we look back on our lives most of us will realize that there were those rare opportunities of family memories that we took advantage of…that we didn’t let them slip away. They don’t necessarily have to be trips to magic kingdoms or foreign countries, but they do need to be experiences where, as family, we are together…laughing, singing, telling stories and creating new stories.
Spending time with a three year old is magic in motion!
Categories: children, Community, love, marriage, Parenting, Story, Uncategorized
Tags: Disney World, Donald Duck, family vacation, Goofy, It's a Small World, Magic Kingdom, memories, mono-rail, Rockin' Roller Coaster. Sci-Fi drive-in, three year olds
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October 10, 2014
WORDS FROM W.W. October 13, 2014
“Therefore, I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes?…Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?” (Matthew 6:25 and 27)
Let’s be honest! Peace is something we long for, but find it hard to grasp. Currently there are many areas of unrest in our lives. In case your list is short, here’s a few to add to it: ISIS, ebola, mall shootings, school shootings, burn scars, cholesterol levels, cancer, gas prices, stocks falling, collapsed pension plans, processed food, college tuition, aching knees, overdrawn bank accounts, hacking Target and Home Depot, pit bulls, gun right advocates and opponents, Republicans and Democrats, Obamacare and lack of health care, meth addicts robbing homes…
As you know, I could go on and on and on, but I’m sure there were a few things on that list that resonated with you.
Worry is like water! After yesterday’s three inches of rain there’s plenty of it for everyone!
But what about peace! Is it on sabbatical? Have we ticked off God so much that he’s taken back his peace and gone home?
Aren’t followers of Jesus suppose to be peace-filled? Isn’t there suppose to be a sense of tranquility in our spiritual lives?
Let me answer that with a “That would be nice!” and “Sometimes yes!”
There’s an inner peace and and outer sense of peace. The inner peace is a promise of God. Philippians 4:6-7 says “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”
That inner peace develops as we take a breath of prayer…as we trust that He will never leave us nor forsake us. It’s believing more in the presence of God and the power of God than the destruction and depression of Life.
The outer sense of peace comes and goes like the winning streaks of the Colorado Rockies…most of the time, too few and far between! Life can be good and then the news comes on. We talk about peaceful moments, but they are suddenly plummeted by torrential rains.
The fickleness of our outer peace raises our worries like the yeast in baking bread. Sometimes our worries cause us to forget that we DO have the promise of inner peace.
Jesus asks, “Why worry?” And we respond, “Because it’s one thing we’re really good at!”
We will even worry if there suddenly isn’t anything to worry about!
We are followers of the one who was known as “The Prince of Peace.” If we could just follow him as closely as my shadow seems to follow me!
Categories: Bible, children, Christianity, Community, Faith, Holy Spirit, Jesus, Parenting, Pastor, Prayer, Story, The Church, Uncategorized
Tags: ebola, hacking, inner peace, Peace, Philippians, tranquility, trusting, why worry, worry
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September 22, 2014
WORDS FROM W.W. September 22, 2014
I graduated from Ironton High School in 1972. For those who are math-challenged that means I received my diploma 42 years ago. It also means that most of the people in my high school class hit the “6-0” sometime during this year.
This past weekend people from my “Class of ’72” had a 60th Birthday Bash in Ironton.
I couldn’t go! I had a team of three year olds I needed to coach in soccer…otherwise known as “herd ball.”
But I did see pictures from the birthday bash that several of my Facebook friends posted. Here’s the hard part! When you don’t see people for decades you tend to ask the same question over and over again: Who is that?
Sixty looks different than eighteen! My frame of reference with Ironton High School is still with an eighteen lens. But things happen! Hair turns grey…or white…or disappears! Waistlines expand, people get shorter, more bent over. Wisdom has its price tag…support bras, support leg stockings, back support wraps. Aging is not easy.
I miss a lot of my high school classmates…Dave Hughes…Margaret Whaley…Mike Fairchild…Tommy “TD” Douglas…Jim Payne…Susan Heald…Greg Harding. The memories come back of Carl Pyle singing “Climb Every Mountain” at graduation, Sunday night youth gatherings at First Baptist, Junior Prom with Mary Cronacher, setting the school record for the mile run (which lasted for one..maybe two years) in a race in Charleston…and only finishing fifth! Getting ribbed for not getting my driver’s license until I graduated (Jeff Waddell kept asking me how the stereo system was on my bicycle!), Smitty’s for unhealthy lunches, the protest of some of the African-American students, during which they got on the school P.A. system.
Good times!
I’m assuming that most of us in my class have grown out of high school. We’ve matured, gone on to raise families, become overbearing parents just like ours were, and now grandparents who carry around thousands of pictures of our grandkids…and maybe one each of our originals! We’ve gone our different ways and now we look back on what was and miss the Friday nights, the possible teen romances, and the laughter of crazy adolescence.
Sixty is a new phase of life that came along whether we were ready for it or not.
I have to admit something. In some ways it’s hard for me to go back to my old high school. For one thing, they tore down my school and built a new building on the spot, with the exception of the nostalgic front entrance columns that they kept standing. But it’s also hard for me to go back because I’ve moved away and moved on. Life is better in many ways, harder in others, but most of all, completely different. I’ve been a pastor for thirty-five years, married the same number and only once, father of three, grandfather of two and a half (3 next March). Most of my life these days is focused on a completely different set of priorities than I had at IHS.
I miss my old classmates, and I’m okay with that.
Categories: children, Community, Freedom, Humor, love, Parenting, Pastor, Story, Teamwork, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: 60 years old, birthday, class reunions, Friends, high school, Ironton, Sixty
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September 15, 2014
WORDS FROM W.W. September 15, 2014
I’ve noticed something a little strange! A growing percentage of my life is being spent with three year olds. As I’ve mentioned in recent writings, I’m coaching a soccer team of three year olds. And now…this past Sunday I began co-teaching a Sunday School class mostly of three year olds.
About twenty-five years ago Robert Fulghum wrote a book entitled All I Really Need To Know I Learned In Kindergarten. I’m thinking of a revision, without Fulghum’s permission, entitled “Most Of What I Know Now Was Learned From Three Year Olds.” I may have to shorten the title, but the thought resonates with me.
Here’s a couple of things I’ve discovered from three year olds.
What you say…they take literally! My granddaughter was playing goalie in our soccer game on Saturday for one of the quarters. Coach Tony who helps us told her that when the ball came towards her she was to jump on it.
She did exactly what he said! When the ball came towards her she jumped on it…with her feet. Jumping to her means jumping up in the air and landing back on your feet again. So…she tried to land on top of the ball with her feet, but her timing was off…so, in essence, she jumped up just in time for the ball to pass under her and into the goal.
Three year olds take things literally. It’s also why you can talk about polka-dotted ponies and whispering caterpillars with them and they believe. Perhaps that’s why Jesus talked to his followers about having a child-like faith. Faith requires that you take God at his word! Thirty-three year olds aren’t as good at that. Neither are sixty-three year olds. Too much skepticism has been spoken into our lives at those points.
Here’s something else I’ve learned from three year olds! What is important isn’t really what’s important! I had a schedule for Sunday School class this past Sunday. I had a lesson plan. I had times attached to each part of the lesson. Half of the plan got accomplished. None of the students got upset at missing out on “Activity #4”. What was important to them was Goldfish crackers, singing “Jesus Loves Me” accompanied by a classroom full of percussionists, and coloring a picture of a school bus to take home with them. Likewise, three year old soccer players don’t keep score. They giggle, look at airplanes flying overhead, and play with the assurance that their will be a snack time after the final whistle. What is important to them is having a coach that will give them a high five, pick them up when they fall down, and help them tie their shoes. Simple things. Uncomplicated things like Jesus loves them this they know…for the Bible tells them so!
One more thing they’ve taught me…so far! Play is just as important as work! The soccer field we run around on is right next to a playground with swings, a slide, and monkey bars. Several times so far I’ve had players take a soccer break and meander over to the slide. Their soccer “responsibilities” can wait, even though their coach is sensing “they aren’t taking this seriously!” Their lives will be filled with work soon enough, and at that point they will wonder why their playtime had to decrease and, for some, disappear.
Teaching a three year old Sunday School class requires being able to still play some. It requires getting down on the carpet even though you’re not sure how quickly you’ll be able to get back up again.
As I tell the high school basketball players I coach, the game is played closer to the floor than in the air. Three year olds prove that…especially the playing part!
Categories: Bible, children, Christianity, Faith, Freedom, Humor, Jesus, love, Parenting, Pastor, Story, Teamwork, The Church, Uncategorized
Tags: important, Jesus Loves Me, Robert Fulghum, simple things, soccer, Sunday School, teaching three year olds, three year olds
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September 6, 2014
WORDS FROM W.W. September 6, 2014
This morning at way too early…with wet grass glistening…nine three year olds arrived at the soccer field, accompanied by parents holding cups of Starbucks coffee, for our second practice and first game.
Thirty minutes of practice followed by thirty minutes of a “game.” To call it a game would be similar to calling the school custodian a maintenance bio-engineer- there is some element of truth hidden deep within the title.
Coach Carol- also known as Mrs. Carol Wolfe- bought a balloon to take to the game with Spiderman on it. We tied it to one of the goals to help our confused three’s know which was our goal. It also helped us figure out our team name: Spiders! One young guy who had worn a Spiderman jacket the first week was totally excited about that being our name. Plus, I wasn’t really too enamored by the suggestions from last week: Butterflies, Butterfingers, Pink Toes, and Pizza Hut!
In our short practice we worked on kicking the ball hard. Some are still not comfortable with such violence. I assured them that they could not “bully” their soccer ball. They looked unconvinced!
We welcomed four new kids who missed the first week. One of them ran around most of the time pretending to be an airplane. Another was so scared she never left her mom’s side. “Playing time” is not a big concern of hers right now, unless you’re talking about the swing set.
Right as we had herded the spiders to the correct side of the field to start our game two of our players needed a drink of water. The “airplane” player was coming in for a landing…on the next field over!
The game started and we kicked the ball…not necessarily in the right direction, but we kicked it. One of our girls runs like a horse- not a thoroughbred, mind you! A prancing play pony on two legs. One little girl fell and ran to Mommy. One little boy kept asking when snack-time was going to be. Another little boy was contesting the soccer ball one time with a boy from the other team. “Winning the ball” had not been clearly defined to him. He did a two-hand shove of the opposing three-year old and took the ball away. An opposing player picked up the ball one time and started heading towards the parking lot.
And then it was over! All survived and all got the much-anticipated snacks of the morning. I asked the Spiders what they had learned that day: Kick the ball at Spider-Man, kick the ball hard, and stop being so cute (Just kidding)!
Kids left with smiles on their faces, parents checked iPhone photos taken, and Coach Carol and Coach Bill started thinking about nap-time!
Categories: children, Community, Humor, Parenting, Pastor, Story, Teamwork, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: coaching kids, giggling, having fun, kicking the ball, laughter, soccer, Spider-Man, three year olds
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September 2, 2014
WORDS FROM W.W. September 1, 2014
I entered a new phase of my coaching career this past Saturday. I had the first soccer practice with a new team of three year olds!
Three year olds! A three year old has been alive five percent of my life!
Why three year olds? My granddaughter is on the team…her first team experience ever…so Granddad and Grammy are the coaches.
The practice did not involve soccer ball juggling or players getting to open space, as we say. There was no instruction on defending or setting off-sides traps. No…the practice included asking each player what their favorite lunch food items were.
“Macaroni and cheese!”
“Pepperoni pizza!”
“Peanut butter and jelly!”
Notice I put exclamation marks after each favorite lunch. That’s because each was said with enthusiasm…especially my granddaughter’s pepperoni pizza.
We transitioned to stretching.
“Okay! See if you can touch your toes without bending your knees (I can’t!).” One three year old boy fell over and concluded that stretching was not his strong point. He looked with a pained facial expression at his mom and dad. A couple of the girls thought stretching was fun.
“Okay! Let’s take our soccer balls and put them between our feet.” Two kids with limited coordination fell down just taking steps. Two others put the soccer ball between their feet and sat on them. It’s about at this time that I decided it would be good to get a water break. We had been hard at it for almost five minutes.
I crossed off the slide tackling drill we were going to do!
“Okay! Let’s learn how to dribble. Everybody look down at your soccer ball and say “Hi!”
They all thought that was cool…talking to soccer balls was now on the same level of excitement as favorite lunch choices.
“Now, let’s use the inside of our foot and kick the ball all the way to the white line.”
Ever seen one of those crawling baby races where the babies are released and they head in a dozen different directions? Our first attempt at dribbling a soccer ball was like that. It brought back memories of my old electric football game when I was growing up that no one ever figured out. How was a tackle ever made in electric football? It wasn’t!
Water break!
“Okay! Say hello to your soccer ball again, and let’s go take shots on the goal!”
One thing I learned about three year olds is that they are scared that they will hurt their precious soccer ball. One of the girls had Barbie or some pink character on hers, and now I’m telling them to kick it hard!
Dainty and gentle would be better descriptions of our foot to ball contact at the first practice.
Water break!
A couple of the boys were reaching the end of their attention span. They spotted the swings and slide in the back of the park. I lost them!
In all, I think we had a good thirty-five minutes of practice. Take away the favorite lunch conversation, water breaks, and getting to know their soccer ball on a casual conservation basis…okay, maybe twenty minutes, but it was a hard twenty!
And I was exhausted!
Categories: children, Community, Humor, Parenting, Pastor, Story, Teamwork, Uncategorized
Tags: attention spans, coaching, coaching soccer, coaching three year olds, dribbling, grandparents, juggling soccer balls, pepperoni pizza, soccer, soccer balls, stretching, three year old soccer, three year olds
Comments: 1 Comment
August 12, 2014
WORDS FROM W.W. August 12, 2014
“Dad Time”
I’ve been blessed with a great father, Laurence Hubert Wolfe. Dad is now 86 and moving a little slower these days, but he was able to fly from Ohio to Colorado Springs and spend about a week and a half with us.
My mom passed away last September. Dad had been her primary caregiver for the last few years of her life…feeding her meals, sitting by her bed, sometimes having to be firm with her about taking medications and drinking fluids. Because of his energies being directed to her he hadn’t been able to visit us in Colorado. This trip was an opportunity for him to spend some uninterrupted time with his grandkids and great grandkids, and it was…great…deeply meaningful…and impacting.
Our three year old granddaughter, Reagan, came to the point where she looked forward to seeing “Papaw” each day. One day she asked her mom when they were going to see Papaw and her mom said they weren’t going to see him that day. She was not happy!
One morning she entered into our house saying “Papaw, Papaw!” She breathed in through her nose and said, “I know he’s here! I can smell him!”
Dad was amazed and amused by the conversations. The uniqueness of each of his grandchildren and “greats” was obvious to him. He often smiled in satisfied appreciation. We had three meals during the week at the restaurant that our son is chef at. Papaw loved the fish and chips. They are probably not on his diet back home, but we put diets aside for a few days. His grandson personally fixed his meal.
Our oldest daughter had us over for dinner twice during his stay. The green bean casserole reminded him of meals my mom would cook. He visited her fourth grade classroom and was pleased to see a few of the ways she effectively teaches the youngest generation.
Our youngest daughter traveled up from Albuquerque for the weekend to spend a little time with her Papaw. We took him to an air show, and we did it not so much to see the planes but just to be with him, and to see his delight in meeting one of the Tuskegee Airman who was a guest there.
We talked about this and that. He retold some stories that I had heard a few times already, and also revealed some family history that I wasn’t familiar with.
We’d drive my Civic around the area, visiting the Air Force Academy, The Classical Academy where I coach basketball, as well as simple trips to Lowe’s and Walgreen’s and Albertson’s supermarket.
A few times during his stay he wasn’t up for any adventures. He just wanted to sit a while and read. Other times he just wanted to watch CNN as the events in Gaza and Iraq unfolded. On Sunday we watched the PGA championship for a solid two hours.
He ate watermelon and cantaloupe just like our family did in my growing ups days. Watermelon was a more prized treat than ice cream!
When I picked up Dad at the airport he was being wheeled down the terminal in a wheelchair. It’s a little difficult to see your dad in a wheelchair for the first time. When we dropped him off back at the airport I watched him get in a wheelchair again. It was a harsh visible sign that Dad is in his life home stretch.
The readers of this blog don’t quite understand how deeply respected my dad is by our three children. It’s hard to read something and pick up on the underlying value that they place on their relationships with Papaw.
They will remember this visit from him not for places that we went together, but rather time spent with him…sitting on the couch beside him…hearing his chuckles…listening to his accent.
Dad time…priceless!
Categories: children, Humor, love, Parenting, Pastor, Story, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: Dad, fathers, grandfathers, green bean casserole, Honda Civic, Papaw, remembering, visits, wheelchair
Comments: 1 Comment
June 26, 2014
WORDS FROM W.W. June 26, 2014
My home study is populated with pictures. Pictures tell of what was, and provide sweet remembrances of times gone by.
Sitting on my desk in front of me is a framed picture of my granddaughter when she was two, dressed in the same red dress with white lace that her mom wore when she was also two. Reagan is staring at my when a smile on her face. If her picture came alive right now she could get whatever she wanted from her granddad!
Above her on the wall is a picture of the Mason High School Girl’s Junior Varsity basketball team that I helped coach in 1997. I’m wearing a sweet looking pair of khaki shorts and eye glasses that cover about two-thirds of my face. Eleven girls separate me from Coach Don Fackler, who is on the other side of the picture. Don taught me so much about coaching, and I miss him terribly. I find his voice coming out of my mouth so often in practice and at games. The girls in the picture have gone on to be moms, coach other teams, and develop callings and careers that we would never have imagined.
When I turn around the wall behind me is covered with team pictures of other teams I’ve coached through the years. Each picture is now still life, but my mind is flooded with memories when I gaze at each one of them. I remember the goofballs, the boys who would make me laugh hysterically, and the head cases that kept me awake at night.
Good teams! Bad teams! Teams that worked hard, and teams that didn’t know how to work.
At the top of the rows of pictures is my youngest daughter’s college cheer squad from University of Sioux Falls. She cheered for the Cougars all four years she was there and only experienced one defeat in football, that being one year in the NAIA championship game. The other three years they won the NAIA. She looks so fit and pretty in the squad picture. I’m a little reluctant to remind myself that she is my baby.
There are no wedding pictures in my study. For some reason those are confined to the guest bedroom, like a different exhibit in the museum.
Pictures tell a thousand stories and cause my soul to chuckle in delight.
Categories: children, Community, Humor, marriage, Parenting, Story, Teamwork, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: big glasses, cheer squad, coach, Coach Fackler, coaching, Mason High School, memories, remembering, team pictures, University of Sioux Falls
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Words from WW Blog 