Scene from Saturday + Trials & Trombones

Both kids have gone through some ups and downs in the past few weeks. One of the toughest thing as a parent, especially as they get older, is to watch them fail. It’s often heartrending but it’s the whole point, I think. They do it themselves or it’s not much good.

There were times I really wanted to jump in help. But was that my job? It’s not good for them or for anyone else. I certainly want to help but not make them helpless in the process. Where does a parent draw the line? How do you know where to help, when to jump in, what to handle for them, what to tell them doesn’t really matter?

I can’t do it all. Nor should I. I can provide opportunities, support, and encouragement. The rest they’ll have to do themselves.

I’ll try to do my job and let them do theirs. As painful as that might be sometimes.

A short entry this week as much of Saturday was done under a veil of secrecy as the girls prepped for my birthday dinner (the actual non-milestone, we-don’t-have-to-really-mention-it birthday is on Monday).

Dash got in a walk but he had to do it on bare concrete as his preferred woodland route is still mostly underwater.

It was district audition weekend so there was a lot of morning trombone tuning and practice.

Everytime the girls are due for haricuts, there are days of pre-cut negotiations on just how much they’ll get cut. Forget the consumer price index, we should just go with the Ally bangs index as a measure of economic strength.

Not sure if the incoming storm motivated people but the Transfer Station was jumping.

The pressure at the main building to nail your fancy park, back-in the first time was intense.

The rest of the day was friends, family, food, and cake.

Plus, in bed by 10. Not much more this old man can ask for.

Happy Sunday!


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