Recently, City Life Was strEssfuL

until our youngest son, along with his dad and I, exhaled into a pew just on time for mass last weekend.

I think I mentioned in a previous post that getting ready for the new school year was a bit intense this year for one reason and another.

image: art parts clip art

As part of his warm welcome back to campus sermon, the college chaplain repeated a phrase from one of the gospels that said something to the effect of:

“Come in here.”

My brain was still buzzing with post week one of elementary and high school forgotten or screwed up back to school purchases, so this repeated phrase was all I could gather from that hour of rest.

“Come in here.”

Kate’s brain: “JesusMaryandJoseph where are those stupid receipts?”

I did manage to hear Fr. Chuck say,

“As a chaplain, I’d love to have a big sandwich board sign out front that says just that:

 

‘Come in here.’ “

It felt so incredibly good to sit still, yet my two adult sons were at work and rest, so it was a three person attendance.

That was a little bittersweet.

And,

rather than feeling sad that the college students we sat with are the

same age as our older sons, somehow,

my mind started to wander about this theme of signage and coming in and out of various doors.

Which led to a series of odd, I admit, but calming images about turnstiles and revolving doors.

Here goes one about revolving doors. (I won’t bore you with my communion service turnstile idea):

Being a parent is like being a fancy hotel guy with a gilded cap who says “good afternoon” as stressed and giddy folks push through a revolving door. Our off spring, their friends, our nieces and nephews, and a host of others, come through our doors,

hour after year,

after, “was that day ago, or did I lose my 2nd cup of coffee again?”.

I can think of at least 10 doors that belong to houses that we’ve been in as a family that have seen such action.

Yet, unlike the gilded door guy,

parents don’t get a paycheck for politeness.

Or a raise for anxiety and stress management.

Or a maintenance crew to keep the thing flowing and unfogged.

Or a secret panic button that will hail Super Grover to save another day.

But, we do get invited back. To church, to the gym, to the dog park, a knit n’ gripe group, an over the fence chat with a neighbor. The list is pretty darn long of the spots where faith in a Good God dwells.

I do miss Super Grover every so often though. 

From Sesame Street Workshop press archive. I told you the guy was cool. He has press agents.

Stinkin’ cute you must admit.

(p.s. If you have an extra 4 minutes and 32 seconds, click above on the blue JesusMaryandJoseph for a very sweet Irish back to school YouTube video)

(Updated Post) One Word, One Photo: Hope

July 9, 2013

I originally found this old photo for the WordPress Photo Challenge theme: “hope.”

When I published it in the winter of 2012, these two sons would have been in the fourth and tenth grades. It was also our first winter living away from their older brother, and our first winter living away from our country home in southern Ohio.

(check out this Homer Baily photo about last week’s no-hitter: http://espn.go.com/mlb/player/photos/_/id/28668/photoId/3075336/homer-bailey)

I’d have to consult their dad about when that hotel window snapshot was taken, because sizes are deceiving in that photo. Our youngest son was a giant as a toddler and preschooler. Yet, I don’t remember pullups on that trip to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, so he must be somewhere around four years old.

This memory jog also helps explain why the other handsome guy in the photo was the one of my three boys to have the best time on that trip. He wasn’t a pesky preschooler melting down in the gift shop, nor did he have the world of worry that was distracting his early adolescent brother in between being amazed by various music legends.

If I spend too much time thinking about all of this…I may become a little bit sad.

Our youngest starts Junior High School in early August, and it is a matter of months before the current sparks of little boy perspective will no longer be front and center in our home.

Thankfully, our youngest is very extroverted. Shockingly private already, but very extroverted none the less. This results in constant dirt as the front door seems to revolve, but having frequent guests makes it fairly easy to get the local preteen scoop from various angles.

So, I predict that if we are sensitive enough, and the normal amount of more often not all all swag (aka:insensitive), it will all even out and we will keep having glimpses into the reality that we still are raising one boy and two men. For a few more years anyway.

I’m not sure why, but this little reflection excercise is not resulting in a sad moment at all. I guess it’s the assigned photo challenge word from a couple of years ago…

Ha! look at what popped up first on my “Good Reads” quote search:

“Don’t cry because it’s over,

smile because it happened.”

 

the-Muppets-movie-posters-the-muppets-26849004-75-120 Miss-Piggy-the-muppets-34940648-100-100 Electric-mayhem-the-muppets- fan pop 120-96

(Muppet images from Fan Pop)


― Dr. Seuss

Better stop typing while I’m ahead. Have a good day ~ Kate