character

We all try to teach good character traits to our kids. Sometimes I wonder if I am doing a good job of imparting those lessons, especially with the problems I have with Jim, but now and then something will happen that lets me know those little character lessons do stick with them.

I received a note from one of Jeff's teachers commending him for extending help and friendship to those who need it most. Curious, I asked Jeff what had happened at school and he told me about a boy. This boy was being shunned by all the other kids. They claimed he was stinky and this and that so the kids as a group refused to include him in on anything. When Jeff saw the situation he stepped out from the crowd and became friendly and kind to this boy. I'm so proud to be the mother of an 8 year old boy who will think not about himself, but will extend compassion to another person who is in need. He is indeed a special young man.

Slingo

Blue Belts

Proud blue belts!




I'm so very proud of my boys. They are about halfway to earning their black belts. Jared wants to become a TKD instructor one day....a good goal in my most humble opinion.

Mirth On Monday

Hosted by In His Hands

If I had to choose one word to describe the past week for me it would be flowers....dealing with hundreds of men ordering flowers for wives and girlfriends brought up that green monster of jealosy in me. James never sends me flowers. I can forgive him, though. He is such the penny pincher. However, I did buy myself a potted plant with a mixture of flowers to brighten up my desk. :) They are so pretty. Now I just need to finish cleaning my desk so it will look nice, too.

This week we took a day to check out a program to help Jim get back on the right track. National Guard Youth ChalleNGe Program He is excited about it and we are hoping and praying that it will set him on a better path. He plans to join the Air Force once he graduates. It is hard to imagine that in just over a year from now we may have only two kids left at home.

James asked yesterday, "How old am I?" I know the feeling. I've reached the point myself that I have to stop and consider what my age actually is. He will be marking another birthday next week, the ripe old age of 39. Maybe I should send him flowers at work?