Wildflower Writes

I used to want to be famous. I wanted to see my name printed on the front of a book as I browsed Barnes & Noble. I wanted the interview on the national television network, and the occasional recognition of my name or face at the local coffee house or grocery store. I knew it was a silly dream: not unattainable, but not necessarily a worthy goal. I have a new goal now. I want to be like Becky. I didn't know I wanted to be like Becky, until I attended her memorial service yesterday. I knew Becky through the church choir. I didn't know her well; I knew she worked in a school, that she was a seasoned vocalist, and had a strong faith in God. She died a few weeks ago, in her early sixties, after a 6-month bout with an aggressive cancer. There was an amazing variety of people at the service. I dare not say funeral, because it really wasn't a time of mourning. It was truly a celebration of one woman's life. Staff and children from the school where she taught music for...

Sometimes I worry about what kind of mom I am. I don’t spend inordinate amounts of time with my children. Sometimes I yell at them. Sometimes I say things I shouldn’t about people or situations that frustrate me. Sometimes I forget to keep up with their papers, projects, and events from school and activities. Sometimes I shut myself up in my room for some alone time. When it comes down to it, I am largely responsible, along with my husband, for the kind of people my children become. By helping support their interests and abilities as they grow, we give them tools to become what they are created to be. By instructing and disciplining, we teach them what is and is not appropriate in the social arena. It’s more than turning my children into responsible citizens, however. Whether I like it or not, their view of the world is colored by their interaction with me. When I show them affection, they feel how great it is to be loved. When I laugh with them, they learn how to find joy. ...

Have you ever wondered what are children good for? They can’t work; they can’t contribute. They tend to be loud, needy, and self-centered. Why did God create us so that we come into the world in the form of an infant, rather than fully mature? Why did He send His Son to earth in the same form? Anyone I’ve ever known who has become a parent has said the experience changes him or her. All of the sudden, you are not living for yourself. As a pregnant woman, everything you eat, drink, or breathe affects your child. After a baby is born, it relies on its parents for everything. The choices the caregivers make will affect whether that child learns to trust them to meet his or her needs. A child teaches you to love in a way that you’ve never loved before. It’s unconditional and fierce. It protects at all costs, yet disciplines without regret. It believes that anything is possible, and teaches how to deal with reality. It is completely patient, and always yearning for more time. Ch...

Is there anything more American than baseball? As I sit behind center field, awaiting the start of opening day for the 51st year of Osolo Little League, I’m taken back to some of the happiest moments of my childhood. My dad coached softball before any of his kids were old enough to play. In fact, both my sisters were named after young ladies he coached. We grew up entertaining ourselves by digging in the dirt, running the bases before games, and climbing the bleachers. When I was six, I was finally allowed to play T-ball. We played in jeans then. Even though I was probably just as bored as the other players, I wasn’t a grass picker or a butterfly chaser. I took the game seriously. I put my hands on my knees in a ready stance, and then ran all over the field when someone hit the ball. When it was my turn to bat, I hit the ball and ran as fast as I could. League designations were based on age and not ability then. I played T-ball for three years, and didn’t see a softball until I was nin...

It’s my nephew’s birthday today. He’s seven years old. He likes to read, play video games, and is a powerful hitter on the little league field. Kids grow up fast. It never seems like it when you’re wading through diapers and spattered baby food, but they do. Before you know it, that bald baby with a big head is going to school and teaching his parents things they forgot they knew. I love watching babies interact with their world. They are constantly gathering information through all their senses and putting it into practice. I remember watching a baby next to me in a waiting room. His mother had given him a small bottle of pop to keep him busy. He grasped at it with tiny fingers, mouthed the cap, turned it, shook it, and dropped it several times. Once kids are mobile, their explorations increase ten-fold. There’s a child at my friend’s childcare that is like a wind-up doll. You put her on the floor and zoom! She’s crawling so fast her arms and legs are a blur. Soon she’ll ...