"We're all just fragile threads, but what a tapestry we make." – Jerry Ellis

Archive for the ‘family’ Category

Labor Day: What is America Celebrating?

As a kid, Labor Day meant the end of summer and the beginning of school. Even though the kids start mid-August now, the first Monday in September still feels like the Last Hurrah before we go full speed into school and all their fall activity schedules. Today’s Labor Day doesn’t even dictate fashion choices as it once did. Fashion gurus and etiquette experts (Emily Post’s Etiquette, 17th Edition, published in 2004) now say it’s even acceptable to wear white after Labor Day, but I still don’t. Call me old-fashioned (I prefer traditional) but I like to think some things just belong to summer—like homegrown tomatoes, flip flops and Leinenkugel’s Summer Shandy beer.

So why do many of us have the day off for Labor Day? I’ve often wondered what the full history was to this holiday and found out there’s a lot more to it than I realized. This is my attempt to put together a brief summary of what Labor Day is about without boring the average reader silly. The date-specific information I gathered was found on the US Department of Labor’s website (www.dol.gov/opa/aboutdol/laborday.htm) as well as some information from good old Wikipedia. If you want even more in-depth information, I also found some good information on About at http://usgovinfo.about.com/bllabor.htm.

To start, we can thank the early Labor organizers for wanting to rally the American working class back in the late 1800s. The first Labor Day was celebrated in New York City on September 5, 1882, with a parade that apparently looked more like a protest. As far as who masterminded the idea is disputed. Some credit Peter J. McGuire, who was the co-founder of the American Federation of Labor (AFL), while others attribute it to Matthew Maguire, who was part of the Central Labor Union (CLU). I found it ironic that they had similar names—no wonder there was confusion! Some people claim that Matthew Maguire got slighted for the honor because he ran for office for the wrong political party and made people mad.

The holiday started out being recognized at the municipal level, but the first state to sign Labor Day into law was Oregon in 1887. Later that year, Colorado, Massachusetts, New Jersey and New York also signed the holiday into law. It wasn’t until 1894 that President Cleveland and Congress signed it into law in an apparent move to do some damage control to his re-election campaign after the Pullman Strike.

The Pullman Strike was basically a boycott that railroad workers had against running trains pulling Pullman cars in response to the Pullman Palace Car Company cutting worker wages when the company’s bottom line was losing money. George Pullman, the company’s owner, didn’t lower the rents on company housing the workers lived in, so many of the Pullman factory workers joined the American Railway Union. As more workers and strike sympathizers got involved, rail transportation was interrupted, prompting intervention by the federal government, and things got ugly. Federal troops were called in, and you can guess how that ended—in a violent mess.

Six days after the Pullman Strike ended, Cleveland signed the observance of Labor Day into federal law in 1894 to honor the working man. By the way, this attempt to smooth things over with the various Labor parties didn’t work—he didn’t get the Democratic Party’s presidential nomination in 1896.

Another interesting thing I learned about when researching this holiday was that September was chosen to celebrate Labor Day in an effort to not commemorate the Haymarket Massacre that happened in Chicago on May 4, 1886. The Haymarket Massacre was another situation where what started as a peaceful protest ended in violence and death when someone threw a bomb. President Cleveland and Congress did not want the federal holiday to be associated with that event. As a national holiday that is celebrating the American worker, flags fly proudly at full staff for Labor Day. (So please don’t call your local municipality the day after Labor Day and scold them for not having it at half-staff. I work for the City of O’Fallon, and was told we get phone calls complaining about this every year.)

Even though today’s notion of Labor Day doesn’t have the Labor Movement as a primary focus anymore, I like to think the people who originally wanted to celebrate the achievements of workers in America would be happy that we’re doing exactly that. Having a day off to spend with friends and family seems like a fitting reward for the everyday working person. Happy celebrating!

Category:

family, friends, History, Holidays, Labor Day, Long Weekend

Confessions of a Mud Runner

Stopping for a glamor shot at the last Mud Pit

Stopping for a glamor shot at the last Mud Pit

 

I run a lot—almost every day—but I am not a competitive runner. I have mentioned this in the past on the blog and after two half marathons I can say I’m still pretty slow. When you’re participating in a half and the full marathoners are starting to come in as you finish your race it can be a little bit…demoralizing. Truth be told, after a setback a little over three years ago with some foot issues that required almost a year off from running, I’m happy to be running at all. Yet, as slow as I am, I like to think of myself as at least looking a little bit awesome as I plod forward. Sporty and cool like the way the gals do on the covers of running magazines. Sadly, in most finish line pics and those my husband, Darrell, takes of me at races I look red-faced and ready to keel over. (That’s why I like to take a few “before” shots!) But I found a way to look pretty fearsome in race pics—the Mud Run.

 

We weren't TOO dirty after the first mud pit.

We weren’t TOO dirty after the first mud pit.

 

This past weekend Erin and I took part in the LoziLu Mud Run with some friends in the pouring rain. As far as Mud Runs go, LoziLu is pretty tame. I know there are a few muddy runs out there like the Tough Mudder that are longer distance runs and much more intense. LoziLu has challenging obstacles (the 15 foot tall nets for someone not fond of heights comes to mind), but they are all optional and really just a lot of fun. You run a bit, you do an obstacle and get dirty and run some more. Oh, and you laugh. A lot.

 

Made it to the top (I didn't look down!)

Made it to the top (I didn’t look down!)

 

I am a 43 year old Mom with a husband, three kids, two dogs, a job and responsibilities. But for one Saturday morning, I was a little kid, getting dirty in the mud with my friends and not caring that there was mud behind my ears and every other crevice in my body. And yes, covered in mud and running in the rain, I felt as glamorous as any tough chick in the movies.

 

At the Finish Line

At the Finish Line

 

So while some things about the pics Darrell takes of me in races might not change, I can’t help but think that covered in mud I get a little more street cred. After all, there are some faces you just can’t fake.

 

Cold, muddy water...can it get any better than this?

Cold, muddy water…can it get any better than this?

Category:

family

What Mom Doesn’t Know—the Secret of the Broken Chair

chairFamily history has always interested me. I grew up in a family where my parents and grandparents told us stories about their childhoods. I’ll admit there have been times when I’ve thought, If she tells that one more time…but now that my grandparents have passed away and my parents are getting older, I worry that I’ll forget those stories. I also find that I’m one of those people that tell the same story over and over again to my kids. I know it drives them crazy, like it once did me, but I’m purposely repeating them in the hopes that maybe, just maybe they’ll have insight to their old Mom’s life.

My dad, Paul, wanting to compile some of his stories, wrote out a few from his life, and I typed them for him. I submitted them to a magazine called Storyteller on his behalf a few years back, but as far as I know, nothing ever came from it. In any event, I ran across some of his old stories, and I thought I’d have him be a guest blogger today.

Thanks, Mom and Dad, Grandma and Grandpa, for sharing your stories with me!

It was the fall of 1966 when Mom and Dad sold the family home on Natural Bridge Road, in St. Louis, Missouri. Their house was located across the street from the University of Missouri-St. Louis (then known as UMSL), which was expanding and wanted to turn it into a dormitory. The increased traffic had become unbearable during rush hour, and Mom and Dad decided to have their dream home built at Champ Village, near Bridgeton, Missouri.

Mom and Dad’s new home wasn’t finished yet, so they moved in with my grandmother. My younger brother, Richard, who attended UMSL, went to live with my Aunt Evaline and Uncle Arnold, who lived in nearby Bel-Nor. Our younger brother, Russell, went to college in Fulton, Missouri, and came in on the weekends. Though I had recently gotten married and moved out, seeing the house sold felt like the end of an era.

Mom and Dad had put all of their furniture into storage, except for the dining room set, which they’d sold. On the Saturday before the big move, Mom had asked Russell to stay at the house to meet with the people who had bought the dining room set. Richard decided to come over from Aunt Evaline’s house, and I joined him in keeping Russell company.

“So, Mom sold the dining room set.” Richard said.

“Yes,” Russell replied. “I guess it didn’t fit in with the décor on the new house.”

We all broke out into laughter. About a year earlier they had gotten into a wrestling match in, of all places, the dining room. One of the dining room chairs got broken in the process. Instantly, the fighting had stopped so they could ponder their next move. Together Richard and Russell came up with a simple, but brilliant idea. They would glue the chair back together with Elmer’s Glue.

It was early in the morning. They hoped the glue would set by evening and for good reason. Pastor Press and his wife were coming for dinner that night. They got the chair glued together just in time as Mom returned from her appointment at the Beauty Salon.

That evening, Richard and Russell tried to place the chair in such a position that either one of them would sit on it. As luck would have it, somehow Mrs. Press sat on the chair. Fate was on their side—Mrs. Press was a slim, petite lady. They were both on pins and needles until the meal was over and they retired to the living room. If Mom had noticed how little they’d eaten, she didn’t say anything. If the Elmer’s glue company needed a testimonial of how good their glue was, my brothers could have given them one.

At last, a moving van and car pulled up to the side of the house, bringing us back to the present. A young couple got out and came to the door. The wife was eager to show her husband her treasure.

“Darling, don’t you think this set is beautiful?”

“It looks like it’s brand new,” was his comment. We brothers quickly hid our smiles. With that said, two husky men loaded the set into a moving van. With the dining room set gone, a piece of family history went with it.

With the dining room set gone, Russell and asked Richard, “Do you think we should tell Mom about the chair?”

Richard thought for a minute, then said, “What Mom doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

Category:

family, family history, Grandparents, growing up, Personal Essay

Back to School Routines

back-to-school

Tomorrow is the first day of school for our three kids. Schedules have been picked up, supplies have been purchased and Erin’s locker has been decked out for Day 1. It seems so early—we’re not even halfway through August! Yet as much as I’m a little sad to see us leave the carefree routine of summer, part of me has been craving the routine that the school year brings. Since they’ve been out of school, my poor house has been neglected and the accumulation of “stuff not put away” has really gotten out of control!

Routines and habits, the basis for my sanity, are so easily disrupted in the summer. The only routine that I’ve been sticking with is getting up early to go run at 5:30. This, of course, is before the kids are up, so I don’t get distracted with fun things to do with them instead. Still, I will miss coming home from work and having the kids around, whether it’s to have lunch together or just watch old “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” episodes. I think it’s really cool that those sweet little babies grew into people that I enjoy spending time with.

Along with the new school year and those routines comes a fresh start. BK (Before Kids), I always bought calendars/planners that ran January through December. Now I always get them with the kids’ back to school stuff, because our life truly does revolve around that August – May schedule now. I love opening up my new calendar and seeing all those blank spaces. They get filled up so fast with all the activities that start up in the fall, but for a brief moment I see those months ahead, filled with the promise of what the future will hold. As much as I love Spring, with the Fall comes a type of renewal all its own.

Here’s to a new school year and the return to routines!

Category:

family, growing up, School

If Only I Had the Words

As a parent, I’ve found myself having to explain things in discussions with my kids that I’m not always comfortable with because they’re topics I’m not sure I grasp myself. On the past two Mondays, our family has learned of deaths of people my kids know who have unexpectedly passed at a young age. And while my kids are old enough to have past experience with deaths of pets and even great grandparents, it is tough to process the death of someone who they saw in their everyday lives that they never thought twice about not seeing again.

Last Monday we learned that a boy Erin goes to school with died over the weekend in an ATV accident. She went all through grade school with him and he was her “locker neighbor”. I wanted to have words of wisdom to share with her, but I found that I struggled with trying to make sense of it. He was only thirteen years old. He should be pestering his parents about picking out new school clothes, school supplies and those new “kicks” he wanted. Instead his mother has to pick out what he will be buried in while his father struggles to survive his own life threatening injuries suffered in the accident. Damned if I can explain to my daughter how to understand that.

Tonight we found out about the death of my daughter Emily’s volleyball coach. She died suddenly in her sleep over the weekend. Not only was she was the mother of six children at home, she was a coach and mentor to many involved in the sport. A very devoted Christian, she was the Director of the Patriette Lights Volleyball League and taught the girls so much more than volleyball—she taught them about playing with graciousness and as a representative of Christ. While I know in my heart that she’s gone home to be in His Kingdom, the selfish part of me just wants Patty to be here on Earth with her family and the volleyball girls, modeling her faith for them like she always did.

The way we individually deal with grief and loss are handled differently for everyone, and I see my children learning as they grow how that all plays out. I’m not afraid to tell them that I don’t know what to say because sometimes there aren’t any words. Sometimes there are only hugs or tears or sighs that we have to get through before we can start to remember the things about that person that made him or her special to us. And I have to remember that it’s okay to just leave it at that.

It is in times like these that I am grateful that I have faith, even though I think I’m a lousy witness to it. As Christians we believe that people who have died who knew Christ really are “in a better place”. But I cannot say those words to people who are hurting and are devastated at losing someone. I cannot quote scripture and point out places where Christ tells his followers that He’s prepared a room in Heaven for those who believe. When someone dies, especially when it’s unexpected or the person was young, I think it’s natural for those left behind just to want their loved one back. I believe most people, even those who have faith in Heaven, want to hear that person laugh again and say “I love you” and for life to be the way it was before he or she died. I don’t think that makes me any less of a Christian to respect those feelings. Sympathizing with their pain just makes me human. And God can handle much more than our mere humanity and emotions.

I don’t think I will ever fully comprehend why there are people who have to leave us too soon, nor do I feel like I’ll ever become an expert in the field of grief counseling. I will always wish I had the right words. Instead, I only know what comforts me personally: my belief that God loves us more than we can even imagine, as cliché as that may sound.

Our former pastor, a man whose faith I admire greatly, once told us something that I try to keep in mind about death, whether in regards to my own or others. When questioned what Heaven would be like, he said that he didn’t know what Heaven amounted to—what it would look like, or what form our souls would take. “But I have no fear about that because God loves us so much and I don’t have to worry. It is better than anything we can ever imagine.” It may not be the perfect words, but it’s a start.

Rest in Peace Chance and Patty. You will be missed.

Category:

faith, family, grief, growing up, Heaven, letting go, loss, Personal Essay

In a Room Where It’s Always 4:57

So it's hard to find a clock image with 4:57 on it. I found this cool one courtesy of momastry.com

So it’s hard to find a clock image with 4:57 on it. I found this cool one courtesy of momastry.com

In the music room where Erin takes viola lessons the clock is broken; the second hand bounces without ever moving forward. Even though I know it’s broken—it hasn’t worked since she moved over to that room—I catch myself glancing over at it to check the time. But it’s always 4:57.

Sitting there, listening to her lesson, I think about what it would be like if time could just stop like it does in TV shows and movies. You know the scene where the main character is moving in slowmo, and everyone else just freezes. Some days, I wish I could do exactly that. When I’m feeling overwhelmed and just want to take a breather. In the morning right before the alarm goes off. Or when I’m enjoying a moment, and I want to savor it before it slips into the past. It would just be nice to say, “Hang on Universe, I’ll re-join you in a minute or two”.

The flip side of wanting to have time stop for a moment, is wishing it would already be a certain time. Like when you’re a little kid and you can’t wait for Friday so you can go to your friend’s birthday party. Later on, it becomes wanting to hurry up with high school or college so you can start your “real” life. I remember in college counting down the days to get finished with that last semester so I could get a grown up job. Now, in my grown up life so full of responsibility, I wish I would have savored a bit more of those college days instead of pressing forward so hard to the future.

As a parent, I’ll admit there have been times in my children’s lives that I have had to buckle down and just get through. In the beginning it was cranky babies crying and trying to get them to go to finally go to sleep. New parents stumble through those days, feeling like those nights without enough sleep will never end. People told me those days would go by so fast, but I never really believed them. The elementary school years, filled with those awful required science fair projects and being the homework police—they told me those days would go by fast, too. I started believing they might be right, but still…

And now we’re getting towards the end of summer with one seventh grader, a freshmen and a senior in high school all picking up their schedules and gearing up for another school year. And I wish I had a time machine. Or at least a video that I can rewind of what the heck happened over the past two months because I can’t imagine how it went by so fast. I want to throw us all in a room with a broken clock where it’s going to be Summer 2014 a little while longer.

Yet, there’s a tiny part of me, filled with hope and enthusiasm for the future, that wants to see what happens next—for the kids, for my husband and me. What excitement is just around the corner that if I stopped time right now I’d delay getting to enjoy? So I’m glad I don’t really have a choice in the matter. And we forge ahead.

If I can’t have the broken clock, can I at least have a better memory?

Category:

family, home, kids growing up, motherhood, Personal Essay, Summer, teenagers, Time, Vacation

Tagged with:

Food Truck Fun

One of my favorites to visit!

One of my favorites to visit!

 

Where we live, Food Trucks are somewhat still a novelty. They’re downtown and in places like Clayton, where there are a lot of offices, but here in the burbs, the closest thing you’ll find to a food truck is the ice cream man. Not really a good comparison.

Over the past few years, local municipalities have started having events that feature these restaurants on wheels. During our weekday evening run at Creve Coeur Park last summer, we discovered how great these little events are. The first time, we couldn’t figure out why the parking lot at Sailboat Cove was full and we had to park in a small side lot. The event, Feast in the Park, is held at various parks in St. Louis County and features a local band and about 10 – 12 area food trucks.

You can find a complete list of their schedule here:

http://www.stlouisco.com/ParksandRecreation/ThingsToDo

The aroma alone was enough to get us to pick up our pace on the four-mile loop around the lake. We learned then that if you want the good stuff, you need to get there early because once they run out, they’re done. Especially the cupcake truck. Yep, learned that the hard way.

This past Wednesday, armed with all this knowledge and experience, we ran in the morning instead and just went for the gorge-fest. We couldn’t have asked for better weather, the band played at a volume that one could enjoy without having to scream over, and the food was divine. We took the girls and met up with a group of friends to enjoy the gorgeous evening.

Luckily our friends had more foresight than we did and brought some chairs (we only had a blanket and an old towel). They also packed drinks in coolers, something I definitely recommend whether you’re drinking water or Chambourcin. Sitting there on our blanket, laughing with friends and family, we could have been a cover photo for Perfect Summer Evening magazine (if there were such a publication).

One of my favorite things about the food truck events are the variety. From Italian to Greek to plain ‘ole burgers and fried chicken strips, everybody can get what they want. It’s a little like a more charming version of a food court at the mall with much better character. I’m disappointed that it took me this long into the summer to discover the fun of these free concerts in the park. But better late than never as the saying goes.

If you’re in the St. Louis Metro area, check out one of these evenings on the flyer on the above link, while you can, before summer gives way to another fall and its jam-packed schedules. I found that Florissant has “Florissant Food Truck Knights” at their Knights of Columbus on St. Francois on August 22 and October 10th from 5 pm – 8 pm. And I definitely want to recommend my hometown of O’Fallon, Missouri’s “Food Truck Frenzy” on August 16th at Ft. Zumwalt Park.

Category:

family, Food Trucks, friends

The Search is On

college-choice

Our family is in the throes of checking out colleges for next fall. In truth, Darrell and I had wished this whole process would have started a few months ago, but the person at the heart of where to search did not feel it was necessary at that time. Consequently, with early August application timelines just around the corner, we’ve looked at one college so far, with two more scheduled for this week and the next.

We really liked the college we toured a few weeks back. Drury University is a small, private college in Springfield, Missouri. I was surprised that the dorm featured its own bedroom within a four-person suite. The students share the bathroom with just one other person—that’s a better gig than Tyler has at home! Tyler seemed to like the school, but we’re checking out larger schools as well. I don’t think he realizes what a totally different atmosphere there is with a larger, state school. So those are still on our “to do” list in the coming months.

One of the things that’s made this process difficult is the fact that Tyler is just not sure what he wants to pursue for a major. I don’t think that’s so unusual—how many seventeen-year-olds have the life experience to know what they want to do for the next sixty years of their life? Over the past two years we’ve attempted to get across to him that he needs to start thinking about where his skills and interests lie. And while we’re trying to steer him into getting a feel for what classes are really interesting to him and go from there, he seems overwhelmed with the notion that he will be making a decision that will affect him for his entire adult working life.

Ironically, many of his good friends have already graduated from high school and have gone through the process of selecting and attending schools. Some have gone away to colleges, some have gone to the Community College and at least one will be living in a dorm on campus at the local University here. He seems to be waiting to get a great epiphany from how their experiences turn out. Not a bad plan as long as he realizes that he is his own person with unique talents and interests.

My college experience was as close to community college as it gets. I went to the University of Missouri in St. Louis, which, at that time, was only a commuter campus. I went to class full-time and worked part time all four years. I was in a sorority, but other than that, it was pretty much going to class and going home/work. I changed my major from Elementary Education to Communication about halfway through, when I decided I loved kids, but not necessarily their parents. After I graduated, I worked in the student loan industry; a far cry from my major that involved Public Relations, but I did get to use my writing skills on the company newsletter, developing training and commenting on federal regulations and policies. All of the things I did in my first job out of college were not things that I had even really considered as career choices when I was choosing what to major in.

So the search continues and we are learning together how all of this works, from FAFSAs and admission essays to student housing and meal plans. It’s a lot different from Darrell and my college experiences. Mostly, I wish Tyler would realize that he has great potential to do whatever he chooses, and now is the time to see that blank slate stretched out before him—before he has a mortgage. I can only hope that his dad and I can hammer that point home!

Do you remember making these decisions? What motivated you? How did you decide where to go to school and what to study? I’d love to hear your comments!

Category:

college, family, graduation, growing up, home, kids going to college, kids growing up, teenagers

Anniversary Poem

Look how young we were!

Look how young we were!

Twenty-one years ago on July 17, Darrell and I were married after knowing each other for four years. We met in college, where so many love stories begin. I’m biased, I know, but I think we have a romantic, beautiful love story. To mark this happy occasion, I’ve tried to put into words what it’s been like being my husband’s bride. You can laugh at my clumsy attempt at rhyming if you’d like. (Just don’t let me see you doing it.)

 

This love story that we call ours

Could be written in a book.

Joined fates aligned across the stars began

When the seat next to me you took.

 

You started off as just a friend

Parking Lot H conversations lasting hours;

Who knew then the “perfect angle” line you said

Would lead to wedding flowers?

 

The seventeenth came bright and sunny

In a summer plagued by flooding rain.

We joined our hearts as man and wife

With a reception party quite insane.

(Not really, but give me some creative license here.)

 Our Wedding Party

The early years of just us two

Seem so long past I can hardly remember.

Two became three when Tyler arrived

Emily and Erin, our final family members.

 

Our family has fond memories

Of the good times that we’ve had

I never dreamed that guy I fell in love with

Would be such an awesome Dad.

 

You take us all out on the boat

When we go to the lake

It’s fun to see kids fly in the air

With the wild tube rides that they take.

(This stanza was requested by Erin.)

 

As we promised in our vows, we’ve made it through

In times of sickness and in health.

We may not own worldly treasure

But of laughter and love we’ve much wealth.

 

You make me a better me

With your generous and loving ways;

With you I can be who I truly am

Throughout each mood and phase.

 

I’m so glad that in this great big world

I’m the person that you chose.

I mean it when I say you’re my better half

And my love each day for you still grows.

 

002

Happy Anniversary, Darrell

Thank you for making these past 25 years amazing!

Category:

Anniversary, Bride and Groom, family, family history, home, Love, poems, poetry

Vacation

Table Rock Lake

Table Rock Lake

In case you missed me last week (I kinda hope SOMEONE out there did), I was on vacation with my family at Table Rock Lake. My husband, Darrell, tells his boss he pays extra to NOT have phone/WiFi access while we’re there just so he gets some peace and quiet, but it does make it hard to do anything online. One day I got out the computer to write overlooking the beautiful view, but in addition to my laptop having technical difficulties, I found myself not wanting to miss out on precious time with our family. So I put it away. However, I did enjoy some wonderful time thinking of more things I wanted to explore in my writing, so I didn’t actually “lose” a week writing.

For one thing, my father-in-law, Mike, got some dragonfly pictures for me when we were out on the boat. So I swapped out the blog’s graphic. (Thanks, Dad) These are the gorgeous little creatures we always see out there at Point 15, near the St. James River. It’s kind of the end of the Lake, so it’s usually pretty quiet during the week with only a few other boaters. If we are ever able to have a vacation home, there are several in that little area in Cape Fair I would love to take off someone’s hands. Of course, that might be a loooong while—another thing we did on vacation was visit a college with Tyler (blog post forthcoming on that) Having three kids going through college in the next ten years will most likely preclude any second home purchases in the near future—as if that’s the only reason! Since we can’t afford to buy a house there, we did buy an island this year…and yes, it does fold up nicely on a shelf in the garage.

Harrelson Island

I am happy to report that I was able to get plenty of reading in while on vacation. Time spent reading is such a gift to me. So often I feel that I need to be writing, writing, writing, that I don’t balance it with reading very well. We also got in a lot of boat time—tube rides, water skiing, knee boarding and swimming. If you look really close at the picture in the big splash you’ll see me falling off the tube as the girls look on. Sympathetically, right?

a cropped Tube falling 2014

The most important thing about our vacation is the time our family spends together. It’s a nice surprise to have your seventeen-year-old son post a photo collage on Facebook saying he’s having a great time with his family. Our kids loving seeing their younger cousins, and just hanging out with their grandparents and aunt and uncle they don’t see as much as we’d all like. As a married couple, we’ve gone on this vacation annually for over 20 years, but Darrell’s family has been coming out here longer than that. Over the years, our once large group has gotten a bit smaller, but the lake vacation is a tradition our kids look forward to each and every year. Even if it’s the five of us sharing one tiny bathroom. Talk about your family bonding.

View from our Room

Category:

family, growing up, kids growing up, larks, parent bonding, Table Rock Lake, Vacation