Confessions of a Braindead Swim Mom

If you're thinking all we ever do over here is swim and play football, you would be correct. Well, that's what the kids do. I drive. A lot.

So, last week we had another swim meet. Guess what? We have another one next Friday. And probably the next Friday too. And lucky for you, I'll be there with my camera to catch every blessed moment of it.

Confession: Sometimes I can't even tell which one is my kid. At football games they have numbers, so that helps. But when I go back and look at pictures, I usually look at the shoes and socks to verify identity. Unfortunately, in swim, they don't wear shoes or socks as a general rule.
So I'm forced to look at tan lines. This could be Annika, but then again, maybe not.


You would think this is Annika, based on the Radcliffe on her cap and all, but it's not. You know in football they don't allow you to share jerseys. You know why they do that? So the moms can tell which kid is theirs. Swimming oughta have a rule. I'm just sayin'.

This kid? Not a Radcliffe. Nope. Not even close. Those dang Radcliffe kids are everywhere.

Oop, here comes one now. This one is the real deal. Hint for non-family readers: it's the freckles. We're kinda famous for them.

And in he goes.

Here' s Papa Rad doin' what he loves best...yakkin' about sports...on the mike...to anyone who'll listen...

And I'll just keep taking pictures.....

Your Favorite and Mine, Football!

Just because I haven't said anything about football lately, doesn't mean it isn't happening. Oh yeah, it's happening. Every Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday. It just keeps coming.

Remember, it's 65. He's the man.

Hey 65! Whatcha doin' over there with the Gilbert team?

Get on over here with us.

We've got stuff to talk about. Yeah, stuff.

See, I'm gonna throw this here ball.

And you're gonna run around and look important.

And do stuff. Yeah, I want you to do football stuff.

And your mom can take the pictures. Tell her to just keep her eye on the ball. We'll take care of the rest.

Hey, 65! Does your mom have ADD or something? Tell her EYES ON THE BALL! This is a football game, for cryin' out loud...

Big Sandy Shoot

How did my daughter convince me to let her attend this event? I'm not really sure....

Oh for heaven's sake...

This was the target she and her friend Rachael helped decorate. Cute little thing, isn't it? It's full of explosives.

Rachael's big brother Randall...aka Giggles

Papa, Rachael, Annika, and Abigail, the explosive elephant

My Little Woodland Friend

Isn't she a sweet little thing? I was out shopping for ornaments for the kids, and this little cutie called my name. Set me back a whopping $2.99.

They Ain't Heavy, My Little Brothers

I grew up with two goofball little brothers. People always thought they were twins, but they're not. One's blue eyed and the other is brown eyed. But the buzz cut kinda threw everybody off. And the fact that they're only 16 months apart didn't help.
As their older sister, I felt compelled to keep them in line...er...I mean...boss them around...um, I mean...guide them in the way they should go...oh, who am I kidding? They never listened to me, so I stayed in my room and read books. Lots of them. While they wreaked havoc on the neighborhood.


Here they are in high school. I think the girls thought they were hunky, but eeeww, they're my brothers. And let me just add...having little brothers stinks on ice. First, they bug you half to death, pretty much for your whole life, and second, they don't bring home cute friends that are old enough to date. I think I got totally gypped. Well, that's okay, I found my own hottie hubbie without any help from them, thank you very much.

And here they are all growed up. I think Mom, Dad, and I did a fine job raising them. They turned out to be halfway decent after all. But only halfway. Cuz they're still pretty annoying. And I'm still the favorite. And I can say whatever I want since they refuse to read my blog. Something about being too busy fighting fires or saving souls or some such nonsense. Whatever.

Read about them here. (edited to add: this article is not related to current fires or relief efforts; this happened a couple of years ago, but still pretty cool to read about)

Watch the pastor/comedian. He's such a third child it's ridiculous.

in which Hobo Kelly doesn't see Lori, AGAIN

Tuesday night is Awana night at our church. Guess who teaches Sparky Council Time? Yours truly!


Last night's lesson was "God Sees Me," hence the Hobo Kelly glasses. Apparently, Hobo Kelly was strictly a SoCal girl, with a brief run in Portland. And apparently I wasn't the only kid in LA and Orange County that was disenchanted with loveable old Kelly because she couldn't see me with her magic glasses. I mean, come on, why couldn't she look in the camera with those goofy glasses and tell me that I had a present under my bed just like she told all the other kids?!

As luck (?) would have it, I still remember that feeling of not being seen, of not being noticed, which was the perfect segue into talking about the One who always sees, the One who sees everything I do, good and bad, the One who sees all the way into my heart. He's the One who knows me perfectly, and isn't that what we all want--to be known and and to be loved?

I told the kids, it's a little scary sometimes to think that God is always watching, especially when we are being naughty, but that only reminds us to be good. But I'm glad that God pays attention to me, and notices when I choose to obey Him even if nobody else ever knows. I'm glad that He sees into my heart and that He knows me so well. And I'm especially glad that He loves me!

Proverbs 15:3
The eyes of the Lord are in every place,
Watching the evil and the good.

1 Samuel 16:7b
God sees not as man sees, for man looks at the outward appearance,
but the Lord looks at the heart.

Blessings!

Twofer

Annika will do anything to get someone to watch a chick flick with her--even purchase cool shades! Go on over here to see other twofers.