We are ready for this weekend to get here. Why do the weeks go by slow and weekends so fast! Well actually even though the week seems slow…Crawford is going to be TWO soon so it really is ALL going by too fast!! Below are a few pictures from last Thursday.
Thursday was Favorite Team day at school! According to Uncle Adam it would be Carolina, Daddy and Pop Pop would be Clemson, Conrad it would be Tennessee, Hoban & Mark and GiGi it would be the Wake….but according to Crawford and Grammy it is The Panther’s! The biggest reason is I forgot he was supposed to wear his favorite team shirt to school until the last minute and he cannot fit in to any of his team shirts above so Grammy went to buy him one and below is what she found! I think she did good and He looks as cute as can be!! So Crawford says Go Panther’s!!!!
Helping Daddy wash his Truck!
Mimi came to visit on Friday and we went to Grammy and Pop Pop’s to see the “neigh” (as Crawford would say) and to take a few Pictures!
I was telling Crawford to show me his tongue but he thought I said Tummy!
Petting the Horses with Pop Pop
Walking down to his favorite place to throw rocks!
Speaking of Growing up….I of course don’t just write in Crawford’s blog but I read a lot of blogs as well. I found this message below on a blog this weekend! I think it is so true! Time goes by so fast. It seems like yesterday we were little kids running around and now we have a kid of our own. Since having Crawford I have never felt so disorganized and tired! :-) The laundry pile stays a lot higher and the dishwasher loaded more often than not, the car is a MESS and often the house too! But one day it won’t be, so right now I am going to enjoy the mess because that far out weighs my kids being grown up and out of the house (I know there might be moments where I feel slightly different like this very minute when i look over and Crawford has two Crayons in his hand and is coloring our wall)! But I’ll take that too!
by Charles R. Swindoll
SOMEDAY WHEN THE KIDS ARE GROWN, things are going to be a lot different. The garage won't be full of bikes, electric train tracks on plywood, sawhorses surrounded by chunks of two-by-fours, nails, a hammer and saw, unfinished "experimental projects," and the rabbit cage. I'll be able to park both cars neatly in just the right places, and never again stumble over skateboards, a pile of papers (saved for the school fund drive), or the bag of rabbit food---now split and spilled. Ugh!
SOMEDAY WHEN THE KIDS ARE GROWN, the kitchen will be incredibly neat. The sink will be free of sticky dishes, the garbage disposal won't get choked on rubber bands or paper cups, the refrigerator won't be clogged with nine bottles of milk, and we won't lose the tops to jelly jars, catsup bottles, the peanut butter, the margarine, or the mustard. The water jar won't be put back empty, the ice trays won't be left out overnight, the blender won't stand for six hours coated with the remains of a midnight malt, and the honey will stay inside the container.
SOMEDAY WHEN THE KIDS ARE GROWN, my lovely wife will actually have time to get dressed leisurely. A long, hot bath (without three panic interruptions), time to do her nails (even toenails if she pleases!) without answering a dozen questions and reviewing spelling words, having had her hair done that afternoon without trying to squeeze it in between racing a sick dog to the vet and a trip to the orthodontist with a kid in a bad mood because she lost her headgear.
SOMEDAY WHEN THE KIDS ARE GROWN, the instrument called a "telephone" will actually be available. It won't look like it's growing from a teenager's ear. It will simply hang there . . . silently and amazingly available! It will be free of lipstick, human saliva, mayonnaise, corn chip crumbs, and toothpicks stuck in those little holes.
SOMEDAY WHEN THE KIDS ARE GROWN, I'll be able to see through the car windows. Fingerprints, tongue licks, sneaker footprints, and dog tracks (nobody knows how) will be conspicuous by their absence. The back seat won't be a disaster area, we won't sit on jacks or crayons anymore, the tank will not always be somewhere between empty and fumes, and (glory to God!) I won't have to clean up dog messes another time.
SOMEDAY WHEN THE KIDS ARE GROWN, we will return to normal conversations. You know, just plain American talk. "Gross" won't punctuate every sentence seven times. "Yuk!" will not be heard. "Hurry up, I gotta go!" will not accompany the banging of fists on the bathroom door. "It's my turn" won't call for a referee. And a magazine article will be read in full without interruption, then discussed at length without mom and dad having to hide in the attic to finish the conversation.
SOMEDAY WHEN THE KIDS ARE GROWN, we won't run out of toilet tissue. My wife won't lose her keys. We won't forget to shut the refrigerator door. I won't have to dream up new ways of diverting attention from the gumball machine . . . or have to answer "Daddy, is it a sin that you're driving forty-seven in a thirty-mile-per-hour zone?" . . . or promise to kiss the rabbit goodnight . . . or wait up forever until they get home from dates . . . or have to take a number to get a word in at the supper table . . . or endure the pious pounding of one Keith Green just below the level of acute pain.
Yes, someday when the kids are grown, things are going to be a lot different. One by one they'll leave our nest, and the place will begin to resemble order and maybe even a touch of elegance. The clink of china and silver will be heard on occasion. The crackling of the fireplace will echo through the hallway. The phone will be strangely silent. The house will be quiet . . . and calm . . . and always clean . . . and empty . . . and filled with memories . . . and lonely . . . and we won't like that at all. And we'll spend our time not looking forward to Someday but looking back to Yesterday. And thinking, "Maybe we can babysit the grandkids and get some life back in this place for a change!"
Could it be that the apostle Paul had some of this in mind when he wrote:
I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I am. (Philippians 4:11)
Maybe so. But then again, chances are good Paul never had to clean up many dog messes.
Excerpted from Come Before Winter and Share My Hope, Copyright © 1985, 1994 by Charles R. Swindoll, Inc.