I Watched

Like most people in Lakeland, I grew up going to the Dreadnaught football games on Friday nights.  I remember sitting in the stands pretending to watch the game, while instead watching the cheerleaders, the Anchorettes and the band.  I remember walking down to the south end zone concession stand to get snacks.  And I remember watching mobs of boys playing their own games of football in each end zone.  Little did I know how fast I would revert back to watching those boys playing their own games of football...but this time, with different lenses.

Last night, Warren and Harper became "those boys."  They played football in the end zone.  Warren knew one of the boys, but the other handful we had never seen before.  As they played, I watched.  I watched to make sure they stayed safe.  I watched to make sure they stayed out of everyone's way.  I watched to make sure they didn't play too rough.  I watched to make sure they played fair.  I watched to see how they interacted with the other boys.  I watched to see how those other boys treated my own.  I watched....until I wanted to cry.  

In tears himself, my big, solid Harper ran over to me to tell me that those other boys were teasing him and called him "weak."  And if I'm honest, my heart did break, but I felt a slight sense of relief.  I was prepared to hear "Mommy, those boys called me fat."  "Weak" I can handle!  There on the sideline of a Dreadnaught football game, I held him in my arms as he cried.  I told him that those boys were only teasing him because they were scared of him because he was so strong and they were the weak ones.

Wow!  Little did I know the power in those words.  Harper quickly dried up and turned around and ran back over to those boys, who seemed to be a good bit older than he.  He ran straight to them, and did nothing but look them in the eyes.  Never did he raise a fist, never did he yell, never did he take a swing.  It wasn't needed; he simply needed the confidence to make the "big boys cry."  And while they didn't actually cry, they did scream and run a good bit.  And while they ran, again, I watched...and chuckled.

While a small part of me felt guilty that I found such pleasure in Harper scaring those big boys...a bigger part of me was proud.  I was proud that Harper did not walk away defeated, rather stood up for himself.  I was proud of him for not hitting those other boys.  And I was relieved to see that he can handle his own.  Maybe at the next game, I can watch a little bit less.

The Fence

Chris and I love our house.  But, probably like most, we dream of living in an "American Dream" kind of house.  We've thought about putting in a pool, but when we work the numbers, it just isn't cost effective...and it'd be better to move.  We've tossed around the idea of moving so much that we've even met with a realtor.  We get daily emails from Zillow alerting us to houses for sale in our area.  And, I'd be lying if I told you that there wasn't any part of us that doesn't want to "keep up with the Joneses."  I think, somewhere deep down, everyone feels that way.

But, what I've realized is that "keeping up with the Joneses" is exhausting.  And expensive.  And, at the end of the day...totally not worth it.  You see, if we had moved to that "American Dream" house...you know the kind.  Two story.  Beautiful front porch probably with two rocking chairs.  A gorgeous, well manicured yard.  A fireplace.  A pool.  A nice white fence.  If we had moved to that house, we would've missed our fence.  Crazy?  Yes, maybe.  Especially when you see our fence.  Chris and I built our fence when we moved in, before the boys were born.  A lot of sweat went into that fence.  And now, on one side of our fence, there's a board missing.  It fell off some time ago on the neighbor's side and they have yet to fix it.  This weekend, we learned why.  

When Inca and Poncho started talking about fixing the fence, their 4-year old son, Boppy, stated crying and said "No!  You can't fix the fence.  If you fix the fence, then I won't get to see my friends."  Little did we know that our two boys have been meeting up with Boppy at the fence every afternoon.  They talk through the fence about their plans for the afternoon.  Sometimes, I'll hear Warren say "I'm going to go do my homework.  Let's meet back at the fence in 15 minutes."  What fun memories being made at our fence.    

So, we may not live in the Joneses' American Dream home....but we're not keeping up with them.  We live in the Mayeses' American Dream home...where it's a lot less exhausting....a lot less expensive....and a whole lot more worth it!

     

Friday Night Lights

My boys love to learn.  They have both been so blessed to have amazing, inspiring teachers who teach them not only rigorous academic content, but more importantly...they teach them to love learning!  They both come home excited about school, and excited to teach us what they know.

During football season, Chris is away at football games most Friday nights.  And it's these nights that I cherish as they are anything but ordinary.  Last week, Harper came home telling us about being color engineers.  He explained a science project he did in class and begged me to try it at home.  So we did.  Friday night, Harper and I were color engineers.  We mixed colors, we did blind folded taste tests, we wondered, we created, we hypothesized.

And this week, Warren came home telling us all about reading Charlotte's Web at school.  So for our Friday night movie and popcorn night, we decided to watch Charlotte's Web.  But, the amazing part, is that we didn't just sit back and watch the movie.  The boys sat on my lap, cuddled under a comfy blanket while Warren compared the text to the movie.  He told me how he pictured the barn in the book, which looked quite different in the movie.  And as the narrator spoke, he told us how it was exactly what was written in the book.  I think if he had a copy of the book, he would've followed along!

But, a night wouldn't be typical in our house without some kind of "Harper-ism"...and tonight was no exception.  So, as the movie winded down, Wilbur was saved from becoming a holiday ham and Charlotte just told Wilbur goodbye in a very moving, emotional goodbye.  Warren and I were not doing a very good job of hiding our tears as Charlotte passed away, and all of a sudden, Harper blurted out, so matter-of-factly..."And, she's dead."  Seriously?  What's not to love about these nights?