We don't get to see my brother Lou as much as everyone else because he has a family with daddy and hubby responsibilities; making it this far west is a major effort and expense.  The third child of five, he was the first of us Hedgpeths to get married, the first to have kids, the first to buy and build his own house, and the first to stand up against CHILDHOOD TYRANTS which will not surprise you when I tell you his Bubba story in a minute. But, anyhow, he is here now on the west coast. He came out to visit his wife's brother in Arizona for a week and we are joining up with them in Las Vegas for a couple of days--Hurray! Hurray! 

I (the eldest and, ah-hem—also, the most beautiful and wisest yes, I am, really — of five) call Lou Bubba because that's the name I gave him many years ago.  My mom started back to working when I was around eleven-ish or twelve and she put me in charge of my siblings to basically keep the house in order and clean and cook.  Well, I became a major drill sergeant bullying my sis and brother around to do chores.  If they didn't do what I said, I being the bigger and stronger would just beat them up pounding them into doing their tasks.  Ka-pow! Swat! Bam!  Mission accomplished!

Well, this went on until one day Louie went through a big growth spurt which I in my pre-teen awesomeness had failed to notice. I had just pushed and knocked him into the kitchen to help do the dishes.  He started to squirm away and looked at me and I guess it just dawned on him that he was bigger. He took a swing and knocked me down.  It was exhilarating for him, infuriating for me—he took one look at my angry face and ran for the door.  I grabbed him by the shirt and spun him around, but he fought back like a lion.  I was shocked and bettered by this punk of an eight year old!  It made me so angry and I had nothing else left strength-wise so I resorted to calling him the worst cuss word of a name that I could think of.

My little sister stood in the doorway aghast at the horrible drama she was beholding, waiting to hear it.  Lou stood frozen knowing it was coming for sure and no virgin ear was going to be able to stop its roar. And then, I sucked in as much air as possible, threw my skinny shoulders back, and tossed my pony-tailed head up to blast him with it—the worst possible word ever... 

“You—you—you—!"  I spat out at him furiously.  But, suddenly my word bank came up empty.  Growing up Baptist, I dog-gone had nothing devilish in there to call him!

“You!” I sputtered.

“You—“ I gasped.

Finally, desperate, I blasted him with it—with everything I had.

“You, Buh--BUBBA!!!”

It was an amazing, nearly perfect summer day for my children and me; but it had some moments for my eldest. 

We began our morning by going to see a free movie at the Regal (The Water Horse) hooking up with David and his mom (one of Gary's friends from school).  David's mom was watching another boy that had been in Gary's class preschool through second grade so it was a high for my son to be able to hang out with two old friends.  After the movie, I let Gary go with them for free lunch and swim time at the recreational center while Shawn and I shared some quality time at the library.  I expected Gary to be super happy after having all that "friends with no mom and brother time" but he was a bit down when I picked him up from the pool.  It seems that he got into a bit of trouble with one lifeguard because of showing off on the diving board. He was kicked out of the diving area and not allowed on the diving board the rest of swim time. It was not fair, nobody told him the rules, the lifeguard was mean, la la la, blah, blah.  I asked him some subtly pointed questions and I think we learned a lesson about asking about rules if we don't know them, showing respect to authority when they're just doing their job to keep us and others safe, and learning from our mistakes so that next time we can stay in the diving area as long as our little boy heart desires.  Ha, ha--from a mom perspective... I love that I gave my boy some freedom to be on his own and he learned a bit of a life lesson without me hovering nearby to help and protect him.  Phew, he’s really growing up! And, I think those lifeguards at the Parkway Rec Center are terrific!

We got back together for the Hip To Be Fit class that I enrolled the boys in.  It was our first day and it was another awkward moment for Gary.  The instructor paired Gary and Shawn up as partners during the stretch and exercise time at the beginning.  I bit my tongue and just smiled when she said to me as I sat on the sideline bleacher, "They're brothers--they can be partners, right?"  To my surprise, they did very well, until it came time to do sit ups and Gary was holding Shawn's feet for Shawn to do sit ups.  First, Shawn was struggling to even do this exercise which frustrated Gary because his brother would not listen and follow his expert instructions; and then, when it was Shawn's turn to hold Gary's feet, Shawn did not quite understand what to do so instead of holding Gary's feet he lay himself down next to Gary and continued to try to do sit ups. At least the instructor noticed Gary's nose all screwed up in anger at his brother and she separated them for the next activity which was a pace race across the gym. Later, she had the kids walk the line around the gym, skip it, run it, and walk it.  Shawn LOVED this.  Gary tolerated it.  Then, in the last part of the class the teacher taught them a dance move. There were about fifty kids in this class and she lined them up across the gym.  She told them that next week she is going to teach them some hip-hop moves but this week she taught them a line dancing dance and after practicing the moves a few times the kids line danced to a country western song.  Since Shawn does all the Kid Choir stuff at Midway, he did very well at this part.  And, finally Gary was starting to enjoy himself having put a little distance between himself and his brother. Actually, Gary line danced quite well.  There may be a little cowboy in that boy after all.

As usual, some of the kids looked at Shawn funny and did not want to stand in line with him.  As usual, I smiled at them in reassurance and as Shawn giggled and participated and ENJOYED himself most of the children stopped staring.  He's doing so much better at ignoring the stares and keeping his hands to himself and sometimes like today he actually has long times where he really starts fitting in with his peers. One little girl was very taken with Shawn and gave him a high five which endeared her to my heart, of course.  Thank goodness for people who love and accept others with a big heart.  Again, today I noticed that Gary struggled, too, to handle the social awkwardness that centers around his brother just about anywhere we go.  I'm not always sure how to help him except to give him times like today where he can have his own identity and time for himself. But, I know he loves the brother God gave him and one thing he said to me today sured up the fact that he's got a pretty good grasp of what it means to be a big brother to a child like Shawn.

Gary talking to me about God...

"Mom, there's a lot of things I just don't understand about God...like why He even made us when he knew what we were going to do, sin and all...that we wouldn't be perfect, that we would mess up."

Me, just nodding my head listening…

"You know what Miss Pepper said about it?"  Miss Pepper was his fourth grade teacher.  I raised my eyebrows at him encouraging him to continue. "She said that that should be easy for ME to understand." 

"Why did she say that?"  I am puzzled.

"She said it's for the same reason that you and Dad did not abort Shawn."

I stopped everything to look at my boy-growing into a teen-someday soon to be a man. He smiled back at me but I wasn't looking anymore at a boy, a teen, a young man.  I was looking at love...the love of a brother for his imperfect, sometimes burdensome sibling— the love of God for each and every one of us!!!

That evening Tom joined us after a bike ride to the YMCA.  He took the boys on a walk while I did my workout in the water aerobics class.  After my class, he brought the boys back and he went off to the treadmill and elliptical while the boys got in the pool for open swim time.  I did not get back in the pool.  I went into the jacuzzi and watched as Gary played with Shawn in the pool.  When Shawn would get too far in the deep end, Gary would pick him up and carry him back to the shallower part of the pool.  As the warm water soothed my aching muscles, watching those boys splash and play warmed the rest of me through and through.

Parenting isn't easy.  It's the hardest job I've ever undertaken.  We think we are here in life to teach our children, but they are here to teach us, too.