I won’t be blogging for a while. I’d meant to type up the story of how I recently got stitches, but that will have to wait for later.

See you in a few weeks!

On this, the day of my birth 25 (!) years ago, I think it appropriate to dedicate a post to my mother. Since I spent Mother’s Day driving up to Minnesota to see her, and didn’t think to write a post ahead of time and schedule it, I will now rectify my fail by saying:

Thanks, Mom.

For, first of all, giving birth to me. I know I was tiny, but still: ouch.

For all of your sacrifices, for all of your patience, for all of your unconditional love.

For reading to me and taking me to the library so many times when I was a kid.

For not being too mad at me when I got sent to the office at school that one time. (Dad too.)

For constructing a curriculum that allowed me to read so many books when I was homeschooled.

For homeschooling me back when no one understood what that meant; for making me also do band and the science fair and co-op so I wouldn’t grow up to be antisocial. (I’m still an introvert, but I have friends!)

For never putting pressure on me as the oldest, or trying to make me in your own image, but rather encouraging me to find my own way.

For giving me wise counsel and always listening, even when I babble.

For supporting me when I chose to move 450 miles away.

For being my friend as well as my mother when I was older.

For being an example of a godly woman whose worth is beyond measure. I hope I can be more like you.

I love you, Mom.

Hello, Internets! Yesterday was the greatest, most epic Fourth of July I have ever experienced. My Fourth, let me show you it:

My friends Amy and Alex were in town, so we hung out with them and played cards at Crystal and Bethy’s house. Holden and I cooked burgers and brats on the stove. After dinner all six of us crammed ourselves into my car and went to go watch fireworks. We found a good spot and just chilled for a few hours, wishing we’d brought enough cash for the sno cone stall in front of us. The fireworks were great and we quite enjoyed ourselves (aside from being slightly damp all day because of rain earlier).

Then, like everyone else, we packed up in 30 seconds flat and beelined to our parking space … where we sat for a good 40 minutes as everyone tried to get out at the same time. Oh, fireworks, how we love you. We wait hours to see 15 minutes of goodness, and then we wait another hour to leave.

The guy in the big black SUV next to us had been waiting longer. No one would let him in, partly because he was nose-to-curb and would have to back out. We sat there and watched him stew. Eventually I turned my car off, reasoning that if no one in the line behind us would let him in, no one would let me in either. No point wasting gas.

Across from us on the other side of the curb, a white hybrid coupe did a neat three-point turn within two parking spaces and got out into a faster-moving line. Beside us, our neighbor looked envious. Holden said, “I wonder if that guy realizes he’s driving an SUV? If I were him, I’d just jump the curb.”

We waited some more and wondered if anyone was directing traffic. A small family with a toddler had recently arranged themselves in the Ford Contour next to us. Their toddler was playing with a toy in his car seat. That kid’s going to be up late, I thought. Those poor parents.

Behind us, another car shouldered its way into the line, blocking the black SUV again. Our neighbor reached the boiling point. He abruptly threw his SUV into gear, backed up as far as the unmoving line would let him, and gunned the engine. We whooped and cheered as he lurched over the curb and through the empty space the hybrid had left into the next line.

Inspired by the sight, I turned my car on and turned around as far as I could go within the now-empty parking spot next to us. There was enough space for another car to fit through, so Crystal got out and waved the Contour  through so the toddler could get to bed. Then there was more sitting and waiting, which I will elide here, except to note the cheerful man who was leaning against his buddy’s car, waving a beer can and loudly declaiming, “Nah, I don’t drink and drive. That would be crazy!” Then he squinted at the six of us and said, “Whoa, there are like twelve people in that car!”

Herein follow my Fourth of July tips for next year:

• Bring:
  • Cash for sno cones
  • An extra blanket or two if the grass is wet
• Park far away. If you park closer, you’re just going to wait in the car for 40 minutes. Why not spend some of the time walking?
• Park tail to curb (if there is a curb). It’ll be easier to get out.

But honestly—the wait wasn’t that bad. It was worth it just for that epic curb jump. I only wish we had video.

I’m probably going to cry while I write this, but I own up to it willingly, because I’m writing about one of the most amazing men I know: my dad. Sometimes I stop and think about you and marvel at your character and life choices.

Dad, you lead and serve our family so well. No matter how hard you’ve worked, you always have time for us kids. You were actively involved in homeschooling us. Thanks for being so patient through all of my math melt-downs (which were legion). You happily played with us when we were young–one of my most treasured memories is being allowed to stay up late one night when I was very small, arranging blocks with you on the living room floor. You taught me how to throw a baseball and kick a soccer ball, but never pressured me into continuing with team sports when I didn’t want to; instead, you introduced me to rock-climbing and martial arts.

You are the go-to guy for toilet plunging  and handyman repairs, despite the fact that the house seems to have it in for you and there’s always something new to fix. You know something about everything, whether it’s sports, theology, carpentry, the art of building a proper campfire, or the inner workings of computers. I always look forward to our conversations when I come home, even if Mom thinks you keep me up too late!

You support and work with Mom in so many ways, leading her like Messiah leads us. I love that you are Mom’s best friend as well as her husband. You encourage us kids while not trying to mold us in your image; you’re involved in our lives, but you believe in letting us make our own choices. You (and Mom) supported me wholeheartedly when I decided to move to Kansas City. That 450 miles of separation could have felt a lot longer without you behind me all the way.

I could go on, but I think I’ll sum it up when I say: I hope that someday I’ll be able to marry a guy who’s even one-tenth the man you are, because you? Are pretty much amazing.

Happy Father’s Dad, Dad. I love you.

P.S. Mom–I was going to write one of these for Mother’s Day, but in all of my packing and driving, I forgot. One of these days I will surprise you with a post devoted to you–because your sizeable awesomity deserves it.

Forget New Years’ resolutions; I always feel more motivated to work out in the summer. I’m hoping to get in the habit this summer so that I’ll continue when the weather gets cold. My friends and I are thinking about joining the Y (the people at the location on Holmes love IHOPers and are giving us a discount). I’m really excited about doing an assessment and getting back into resistance training, because right now, I tend to disappear when I turn sideways or blow away when it’s really windy out. My goal is to put on 5 pounds of muscle in the next few months. (I would like 10 pounds, but am not looking forward to having to buy a new wardrobe. However, it would be nice to be able to hit like a truck again.) 

I hate exercise when I do it at home; I lifted weights regularly for a couple years but quit because I was bored all the time, and workout videos never did it for me.  I think working out with the girls and being able to attend classes is going to help motivate me. Plus my friend who has a Y membership informs me the treadmills each have little TVs with cable. Cable! Surely this exercise facility is the height of modern civilization.

Anyway, I also need to get my bike fixed (cardio!), because another motivator for exercising is being outdoors. I put air in my tires this weekend, excited about a long bike ride on a beautiful day, but discovered my back tire was flat. It stubbornly remains so despite the slime kit I bought at Walmart. I may try to replace the tire and inner tube myself, because I’m not paying to get that fixed.

OK, off to Walmart to buy bike stuff. Wish me luck; I’ve changed car tires but never done bike tires before.