Monday, August 11, 2008

Busy Week

I can't believe school is about to start next week--time sure flies these days. I stopped this afternoon and just paused when I realized it was already August--8 months into the year. This week is cram packed with school orientations, football and cheerleading practice and cake classes! Plus Richie and I leave Friday for Big Cedar for my work retreat. I am so excited and can't wait. I love going up there and staying in the cabins. This year just the two of us are going (last year we took the kids) and I am ready for a mini getaway. Friday night our group has a campfire cook-out scheduled. We get to ride in a chuck wagon to the campsite. Then Saturday we have pontoon and ski boats rented for the day which will be nice too. I won't last all day on the boat with my jacked-up back, but the good thing is that maybe that will leave time to float on the lazy river.
I heard some lyrics today that really made an impression on me. They are from George Strait's "Troubadour" song.

"Well, The truth about a mirror,
It's that a damn old mirrow
Don't really tell the whole truth,
It don't show what's deep inside.
Or read between the lines,
it's really no reflection of my youth."

These lyrics are kind of deep. I had to really sit and ponder their meaning for awhile. You know we are all walking around in ever-changing "shells" and what is reflected on the outside is never really the same as who we really are. Sometimes I still feel like a little girl who craves to jump out there at my daughter's cheerleading practice and join in the band routines (which by the way are the SAME ones we did several years ago!). I long for those days when someone took care of me--was responsible for me. Now it's on my shoulders. And sure I resemble the typical Mom these days (minus the Suburban and PTO button however), but really I am still that little girl who misses the carefree days of lying in front of the TV watching Kids Incorporated and Mickey Mouse Club. Don't laugh! I don't think we ever really grow up inside. Deep down we are all young troubadours masquerading as parents, wives, and employees longing to take off running to the sidelines of the football fields to join in the Fight Song!

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