It began about three years ago. I was alone in the house and heard a noise in the basement. It sounded like a thump – or possibly a knock. I tried to ignore it. Maybe it’s my imagination.

THUMP.

My heart pounded as I tiptoed down the steps. Maybe I should've grabbed a baseball bat. I took a deep breath, swung open the door – and BAM – there he was, caught in the act.

A bird, a silly cardinal was flying into the window. He attacked the glass, flew away, and then circled back to try it again.

I figured he’d soon give up. But no, he didn't. He kept trying … and trying. In the meantime, he was making a mess, smearing up my window. And probably hurting himself.

After a few minutes he tried another approach. He flew around the house and smacked into the front entryway windows. He did this all day. Not constantly, mind you, but periodically throughout the day. This went on for several days – and continued for weeks. No, I’m not kidding. It drove my crazy.

I wondered if he saw his reflection and wanted to fight the “other” cardinal. So I tacked some paper over the windows. That didn’t stop him.

My mom suggested we set a hose or a toy snake outside the window, thinking it might scare him away. It didn't.

Eventually, as spring turned to summer, he finally moved on. But every spring that cardinal came back and did it again. I know, what are the chances? Maybe it’s a different cardinal, but how would I know? They all look alike.  

The other day I was working in my office and heard a noise. I looked up to see him perched on top of our entryway window. Like a little red stalker, he just sat there, peering into my house.   

This bird baffles me. I mean, God created him to fly around and explore this great, big wonderful world. He should be enjoying his freedom. Instead, he beats himself up; trying to find a way inside the house. Or he sits on the ledge, constantly looking in.

As silly as it sounds, he reminds me of my teen years. I remember times when I sat on the outside looking in. Like when all my friends had boyfriends except me. Or when I wanted to hang out with a particular group of girls. I was so busy trying to fit into their mold, I forgot who I was. Before long, I talked like they talked. I dressed like they dressed. And I beat myself up, trying to fit in.

Like my little cardinal friend, it was messy – and oftentimes painful.

Now that I’m a mom, I see things differently. As my girls begin their journey through the teen years, I’m trying to encourage them. I want them to have the confidence to be who God created them to be. I hope they can be free of comparing themselves to others. After all, God made each one of them unique. One-of-a-kind. And He never intended for them to sit on the outside looking in. 

Now, if only I could convince that crazy cardinal to fly away and be free. If you have any ideas, I’m open for suggestions!

“Why are you trying so hard to fit in when you were born to stand out?”  - Ian Wallace

Hi. My name is Sheri and I’m a people watcher. There, I've said it. Maybe it’s the writer in me, but I just can’t resist. It doesn't matter if I’m at the mall, sitting in church or waiting my turn at the doctor’s office. I like to observe people. I notice their mannerisms. I wonder about their stories.

Last week I had yet another opportunity when my oldest daughter and I stopped by our local driver services facility. Now that’s a people-watcher’s paradise. One step inside and you’re “trapped” in a giant room full of strangers.

We stepped up to the counter. “My daughter needs a permit.”

“Take a number.”

Emily and I glanced at the paper … number 50.  

Across the room, a lady’s voice yelled above the noise. “Number 38?”

Oh well, I thought. May as well make ourselves comfortable. I took a seat and checked out my surroundings.

Sitting nearby, a petite grandma adjusted her glasses and squinted at some paperwork. I pictured her driving, perched on a pile of pillows and straining to see over the wheel. 

Standing in line, a bald guy stroked his long, braided beard. Interestingly, the stretchy rubber band he’d chosen for his beard looked much like the ones I find all over my house.

Across the room, a teenage boy flipped through a Rules of the Road handbook. Every now and then, he’d run his fingers through a mop of greasy hair and tug at the back of his jeans, which relentlessly slid down his backside.

A few seats over, a young boy with bright red sneakers sat by his mom and kicked his legs back-and-forth. When he grew tired of that, he turned around, propped his chin on the back of his chair and stared at Mr. Braided Beard.

And then there was the young lady sitting next to me. I loved watching her. In fact, I've been watching her for years.

At one time I watched her stretch little arms out to me when she took her first steps. I watched her ride a bike for the first time. I watched her lug a Princess backpack up the wide steps of a big, yellow bus. I watched her get teeth, and then later, pull those teeth. I watched her get braces, and then later, get rid of those braces.

I've watched this girl go through fifteen years worth of milestones. And today was another.  

“Number 50?”

We stood to our feet and stepped up to the counter. As Emily finished her eye test, I noticed a box of pens on the counter. I took three.

“Mom!” She looked at me like I’d committed a crime.

“What? They’re free – and I need a couple extra for my purse.

“This is a government building,” she said with a smile. “There are cameras everywhere. You’re probably being watched.”

Probably, I thought. Seems like wherever you go these days, somebody’s always watching. 

Hi friends! 

Have you ever heard another mom say, "Enjoy them while they're young. They grow up fast."

Well, I can't tell you how many times I heard that advice during my years with little ones. But it can be tough to grasp how quickly time flies when you're in the midst of those sleep-deprived years of motherhood! 

This week I'm sharing a post I wrote for the Quad City Moms Blog. Hopefully you'll feel encouraged to take time to pause, reflect and enjoy every season of motherhood.

Just click on the following link:  http://www.quadcitymomsblog.com/2014/04/14/seasons-of-motherhood/

Thanks - and have a great week!

Sheri

First and foremost, let me start this week’s blog post with a disclaimer:

Warning: I can not be held responsible for the quality of this post. Any typos, run-on sentences or even entire paragraphs that make little-to-no sense can not be held against me. Thanks for understanding.

I'm feeling a little absent-minded today. See, last week our family did this ...

And this ...

And even some of this ...

And we just got home. In fact, I hadn't even caught my breath when that annoying alarm clock gave me a rude awakening at 6 AM. We were off and running.

Girl #1: “Mom! I can’t find my tennis shoes!”

“They’re probably still in the suitcase.”

Girl #2: (Upon opening her backpack for the first time since spring break began): “Oh Mom, you need to sign this paper!”

Girl #3: “Have you seen my library book?”

Once everyone was finally on their way, I was eager to get something done. I had laundry to sort. A story to critique. Totes to unpack. Blog posts to write. Dinner to make. (What? I have to make dinner?) Groceries to buy. 

I tried diving into my to-do list, but I just couldn't focus. My mind was was still here ... 

And here ...

And even here ...

I looked at the clock. 11:30 AM. That’s it, I thought. It's time to get busy. No more excuses. No more daydreaming. I need to return to the real world. 

Then I got a text from my husband.

I’m open for lunch if you are.

And my mind drifted to this ...

So I figured, what the heck. The real world can wait. 



Have a great week!

Sheri