Monday, July 30, 2012

It's an Ill Wind That Blows Nobody Good

July, 2012 has pretty much sucked.

It has sucked the most for Better Half, but the entire family has been affected.

My mother-in-law has been fighting an aggressive form of cancer for over two years.  This month, Better Half and his four siblings watched her lose her fight with this terrible disease.

In the midst of the process there was joy and peace and love and laughter and family and mended relationships.  It is holy and sacred to see someone leave this place for the next.  Death, after all isn't the opposite of life.  It is the opposite of birth. And the exit from this place is just an entrance to another, better place.

She was fifty-six.  That's too young to die.  Five children now inhabit a planet where their mother does not.  The world isn't the same when that happens.  My two youngest sisters-in-law won't have their mother to go wedding dress shopping with them.  There will be grandchildren who will never get to meet her.  We all have regrets that we didn't _____________________.  We all just thought we'd have plenty of time.


At Better Half's annual review, he was told that the company he works for is downsizing and consolidating positions, leaving him without employment.

I'll let you in on a little secret:  Job loss is one of my biggest fears.

So now our reality is severance packages, COBRA decisions, resumes, networking, a faltering economy, possible relocation and an (obviously) significant reduction in income.

And a full-time working mommy.  Certainly, this is the least of our problems.  I'm fortunate to have a job and a boss who didn't blink an eye when I asked if I could bump my FTE to 1.0 from 0.5.  Surely, after almost 18 years, it's only fair that I take my turn being responsible for things like health insurance benefits.  But I don't want to.  Yup.  There it is.  My inner two-year-old rears its ugly head.  I like working part time (or not at all).  I like having discretionary income.  I had plans for my time off this school year.  I'm trying not to have a bad attitude.  And I'm successful.  Most of the time.  If I get my coffee quickly enough in the morning.

This switch from part-time to full-time also means a change in my job title and duties for this coming year.  Again.  I had plans for this year.  They didn't include this.  I'll get over it.  Hopefully I'll rise to the challenge and be able to look back on this time and appreciate all that we learned and how much we grew. But right now, I'm tired, depressed, and overwhelmed.  And scared.

I know that in the grand scheme of things, we are incredibly blessed, but still.

I'm really looking forward to the start of next month.  It's got to be an improvement over this one.

Sunday, July 1, 2012

A Heartfelt Thank You



Dear Coach Schmidt,

As I watched you hug Oldest Son and each young man on your baseball team as you handed them their trophies and congratulated them on taking second at State today, it hit me full-force that we had just played our last game with this team and with you as our head coach.

And I'm not sure we've ever expressed our gratitude for all that you've done for him.

Thank you for cutting him from the Southwind Sluggers team when he was ten.  That experience taught him so much about trying, failing, working hard, and trying again.  Thanks for taking the time to explain to his dad what he needed to work on to be better.  Thanks for loving kids so much that you agonized over that decision, and thank you to your wife, who shared that with me at the store one day--months after it happened.  Exactly when I needed to hear it.

Thanks for giving him a spot on the Jr. Pups 11 and under team.  I've never seen him so excited!

Thank you for praying with your team before and after every game (Oldest Son's Facebook cover photo is a shot of all of you doing this very thing).  Thank you for unashamedly sharing your faith with these young men.  Thank you also, for cutting up with them and having a good time and making mistakes and apologizing.  These boys are seeing what it looks like to be a man of God and that it doesn't have to ruin your good time or mean you have to be "stuffy" and "perfect."

Thank you for coming over to our house to personally check on Oldest Son's eye injury a couple of years ago and for bringing the game ball signed by his team and for praying with him before you left.  He healed enough to play in part of that tournament the following weekend, as I remember. "The prayers of a righteous man availeth much..." :o)

Thank you for not just coaching these boys during games, but also for teaching them.  Thank you for pushing hard, expecting excellence, and allowing for mistakes and for always explaining.  Oldest Son is definitely a better ball player for it, and I believe someday he'll be a better coach for it as well. Hopefully someday when he gets to coach his own son.

Thank you for loving to win games and for not being ashamed of that fact, but thank you also for putting family and relationships and integrity ahead of winning ball games.

Thank you that I overheard other coaches say multiple times, "We love playing this team.  It's such a great group of kids and coaches."

Thank you, most importantly, to your family--especially your son, who is so kind about you taking on additional "kids" every summer.  We know that time spent with our son and with the baseball team means less time spent with your family.  Thank you to both you and he for befriending Better Half and Oldest Son.  They both have a great time hanging out with the two of you.

They say that "It takes a village to raise a child."  I heartily agree.  Thank you so very much for being such a big part of our village these last four years.


You did what you set out to do.

You prepared these boys very well for high school baseball.


Better Half and I are looking forward to sitting with you and your family in the stands watching all that the next four years has to offer!

Thanks again.  So very, very much.