Amazing Moments

I went to the doctor for my son’s three year old check up. The doctor was horrified to discover that he still sucked on a pacifier at three years old. She showed me how his teeth were not growing correctly due to sucking on the pacifier during nap time and at night. I felt like the world’s worst mom for not taking it away sooner, but to be honest, he slept so well with it, that I hated to change a good thing. Getting rid of the pacifier proved to be a larger challenge that I thought it would be. He was attached to his “binky”. In fact, he had several spares in his bed just in case something would happen to one. He never slept without one. His pacifier was something he loved above everything. At night I would take it out of his bed after he was asleep only to find him in the morning with another one that he had found from his stash. Later that week I found myself shopping with him. We liked to stroll down the toy isle at the end of our shopping trip to check out the toys. Tha

My nearly five year old was playing the brand new Baldwin piano, more out of curiousity than skill, as I went downstairs with a load of laundry. The piano had been in the house a week after I had saved for it for years. Suddenly I heard a loud thud followed by a cry as loud as a siren. I raced upstairs and found the piano bench tipped over, the seat hanging haphazardly from the hinges and my son sobbing uncontrollably. The unheard of had happened. The piano, mom’s prized possession, was damaged. The piano bench had hit the coffee table on the way to the floor, so the lid and legs were chipped and scratched looking more like a piece that came from the junkyard than from the store. It was terrible. I wanted to cry. The bench was ruined. My son was scared, shocked, and so very sorry. My husband tried to fix the bench, no luck. He took it back to the store to see if it could be repaired, but the damage was irreparable. So, we moved the bench out to the garage and pulled a chair

In middle school, lunch is a big deal; the lunch line, even bigger. When the bell rings, it is a mad dash to line up. Of course, if you are first, you get the longest lunch and the best choices on the menu. Needless to say, the front is where it is at. Although it is against the rules, many people in the front offer “cuts” to friends or to popular people they are trying to impress. These lucky middle schoolers are pulled up from the back of the pack right to the front. The end of the line becomes like the island of misfits. There, at the end of the line, is always the same girl. She is chubby, has greasy hair, and wears clothes fits as tight as a glove. She is always alone. One night at dinner, my 14 year old daughter announced that she offered cuts to this girl. She said that her face lit up, she rushed up to the front of the line and chatted and chatted about her day. She smiled and thanked my daughter for giving her cuts. My daughter remarked, “You know mom,

The Timber sits half of a mile off a gravel road, nestled in the rolling green hills of north east Iowa. The kids were filled with excitement at the thought of spending the day in grandma and grandpa’s timber playing in the spring fed stream, trout fishing, and riding four wheelers. As the one lane gravel road curved to the gate of the property, the kids let out a gasp. There, at the end of the green meadow, nestled below the old oak trees sat an RV! As the kids tumbled out of the van, they raced to the RV for a tour. The RV was stifling hot inside, the air still, yet the excitement propelled the kids through the trailer with great speed. As promised the day was hot. The kids spent the afternoon wading in the stream, skipping rocks, and exploring the lush woods while grandpa cranked up the fuel powered generator in hopes of cooling the RV. Much to his dismay, he discovered the air conditioner would not work. The sun penetrated our clothing; our foreheads beaded with per