Thanks... And Sorry



Not some of our better times.



Dad, Mom, I’m sorry.  And thank you.  Now, these two statements could pertain to pretty much everything during my 37-year relationship with you, so let me explain…

First, I’m sorry.  I’m sorry I’ve been a whiney, bratty, maddening, annoying, exasperating daughter that you probably just wanted to drop-kick, throttle and then slap silly more than a few times.  I think that describes my overall temperament during both my early and late childhood, but in this particular instance, I’m referring to my behavior in sporting and outdoor adventures.  I was such a wimpy, whiney, scared-y cat.  I’m sorry, Dad, that you had to put up with my whining and whimpering while endlessly trying to convince me to point my ski tips in, turn the corner and glide down the slope – when you’d much, much rather be enjoying some glorious skiing of your own.  I’m sorry, Mom, that you had to sit on the dock with me, probably bored, while we watched the other kids splash around in Lake Chelan because I was too scared of the “lake-weed” that would grab my legs.  And this is just the tip of the iceberg…



Those of us actually enjoying the sledding trip.



But, mostly, thank you.  Thank you for all the patience, tolerance and long-suffering that you did exercise toward me during all those aggravating times.  Not that you guys are saints or anything – I remember wailing and gnashing of teeth on both sides – but now as a parent, I realize the monumental effort that you must have put forth in order to always remember that you did, in fact, love me and want me to be happy.  I know it was because of your imperfect patience that I was able to mature into a fun-loving and active person that’s willing to jump in and try a lot more things than I used to be.



The instant we walked in the door after that disastrous trip
they insisted on putting on their swimsuits. 
I kid you not.  Stinkers.

 My own daughters now are the joy of my life and I get no greater contentment and satisfaction than when we are together as a family enjoying some sort of escapade during this marvelous journey of life.  But – oh – can my mad-o-meter go from 0-60 in 3 seconds flat when the crying and simpering and blubbering for no good reason commence and continue way beyond my tolerance level.



Now this is more like it!
This is at the park down the street a few days later.

 For example, New Year’s Eve, we headed up to Mt. Charleston with some friends to enjoy the recent snowfall and get in some good winter fun.  We’d taken the girls sledding about a month earlier and they loved it.  Now with the temperature a lot colder and the snow a lot deeper, our girls weren’t quite as into it this time.  Z started crying during the bundling-up process before she’d even been exposed to the rough elements!  R did enjoy a number of sledding runs but got frustrated with trying her little pair of skis in the deep snow and her initial good mood quickly unraveled… it was all downhill (ha ha) from there.



These are the kind of snow days we like.

 So, I was stuck in the car with the whiney woo-woos while K got in a few more snowboarding runs with our friends and their sons.  Once the girls calmed down, it all started back up again when we tried to get them out of the car for a quick picture.  So we took it without them while they bawled in the back seat.

Oh, I love them.  Oh, they exasperate me.  I will never give up on them nor will we give up our quest for adventure despite the frustrating mishaps.  After all my parents never gave up on me.

 I just try to keep the big picture in mind because I guess I ended up turning out pretty darn well after all – didn’t I, Mom and Dad?

Smiling the whole time.  This is why I keep 'em around.