The Power of Positive Thinking

Last night at dinner Todd commented, "I hope I hit a home run in my game tonight. That would be so cool." A few notes of background:

1. This is Todd's first season of baseball
2. Todd has never hit a home run
3. Early on in the season, Todd had brilliant batting success, but then he got a little nervous and started stepping out of the box and struggling.

So, as a mom who loves her son, I was thinking, but not saying, "Oh honey, don't set yourself up for disappointment." But what I really said was, "You just do your best."

Before his turn at bat, I actually heard him in the dugout, "I'm going to try and hit a home run for you guys." I cringed. This let-down was going to be hard.

Well, Todd made it through the kid-pitching balls and got four balls. Then the coach got up to pitch (his pitching hadn't been stellar, either). Todd swung, hit, and launched that ball over the shortstop's head, past the left fielder into deep left field. He hit not only a home run, but a grand slam home run--I looked up the definition to be sure: "In the sport of baseball, a grand slam is a home run hit with all the bases occupied by baserunners, thereby scoring 4 runs--the most possible on a single play."

It's putting it mildly to say that Todd was a happy kid. Perma-grin comes to mind.

The power of positive thinking is AMAZING! So I've been pondering all day about reality and dreams. Am I a dream killer? Even if I don't say it out loud, did he know what I was thinking? Where is the dividing line between helping our kids reach for the stars and helping them be satisfied with who they are? How do we set them up for success without being too dissapointed at the failures that are sure to come their way? Life isn't all a bowl of cherries, but how do we know when to point that out and when to zip it?

I know I learned a great lesson last night. I'm going to aim higher from now on. I need to keep it real with my kids, but I also need to help them explore all the possibilities and all the greatness that lies within.

Funny little man

Yes, that is fudgesicle remnant.

Yes, he is still in his pajamas.

Yes, it is still only 9:00 in the morning.

But he did take his medicine (strep throat and scarletina).

And I'm good with that.

Healthy

Todd came up to me early this afternoon and in a very businesslike manner, said, "Mom, I was wondering if I could have another package of fruit snacks because they are made from 66% real juices and fruit, so they're actually very healthy for me?"

I just laughed. I probably should have given him another one just for his persuasion skills. but I just laughed.

My new friend

Introducing my Head Microgel 5. I have the sweetest husband who thought and thought about what to get me for my birthday, and he settled on this beauty. He decided we needed a sport we could play together as a family and as we got old and grey. We both played tennis in high school and have played infrequently since then, but it has been a significant while (refer to my last post if you're interested in my recent lack of exercise).

I have been on the courts at least six times since my birthday and I'm loving it! Perhaps a bit of bad timing in that any day playing tennis will feel like swatting at flies in an oven, but we've actually had a spell of rather cool 85 degree weather this week, so it's been fun. I'm grateful to have such a thoughtful husband.

Tennis, anyone?

Honeymoon over

About six weeks ago, we joined a gym. It was the perfect gym experience EVER! Why so perfect, you may ask. Because it was not yet built. So I could confidently say that I belonged to a gym, that I was going to get in shape, that I was commmitted to the health and well-being of my family. Several of my other friends signed up as well, and we talked about how excited we were for the opening of the gym, that new place where we were going to become workout queens.

Well, folks, the honeymoon is over. The aforementioned gym has opened. Yesterday, it kicked my proverbial bum with it's "Body Combat" class. Now I know why it bears the name combat. I feel like I seriously battled my flabby, out of shape self. Today my body refuses to move correctly, picking up Ben has become extremely difficult considering my arms and lats are perhaps permanently damaged. I may never be the same again. But I have to say I'm happy about it. It was time for this 32-year-old body to make some changes. Pain is a good thing, because it means there are changes afoot.

I'll keep you posted as to whether or not I become a gym rat. I am paying a monthly fee now, and my frugality will probably keep me going, even if the adrenaline doesn't. But I will admit I think I may be hooked. It's been a long time since I sweated so satisfyingly! (remember kickboxing at BYU, Amy?)

By the way, if you want some entertainment, aside from being painful, the class was probably hilarious to watch. I don't have a real great track record for my coordination or dancing ability.