Tag: family

Showing Up

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“Please remember, it is what you are that heals, not what you know.” – Carl Jung

My ten-year-old daughter, Miss O, had a stomach bug this weekend. It hit hard on Friday night and then followed that typical 24 hour course where she felt miserable and threw up a half dozen times and then was mostly done.

When six-year-old Mr D realized that his sister wasn’t feeling well, he set out to make her his famous medium water. You know – not too hot and not too cold. In a lovely confluence where the one thing he knows how to make and the only thing she could keep down met, it was a beautiful gesture.

There was little else that Mr. D and I could do for her. She spent most of her day crying out in agony. Witnessing suffering like that makes me feel crummy. For me, helplessness usually turns into irritability. Fortunately, I was reminded of three things that I’ve heard/read lately:

From poet Mark Nepo, “… someone I love comes along in pain and I start dumping my pockets, looking for the one thing I know that will help them. But time and time again, the only thing they want is for me to open my heart like a sponge to them. They only want to be heard and held.” I swear my pockets are hanging out for how often I dig to try to find something to help only to learn this again and again.

When I talked with Sharon Eubank on the How to Share podcast she related some great lessons from her decades trying to help others as Global Director of Humanitarian Services for the LDS church. The one that really stuck with me was “My solution to your problem will always be wrong.” In this case, the foods that Miss O wanted to eat when she started to feel better wouldn’t have been my picks – but they worked for her.

And then in my most recent podcast conversation with author Amy Weinland Daughters she spoke of not knowing what to do for her friend, Dana, whose teenage son had cancer and then died. Amy started writing letters as a way to show up. She didn’t think it would make a difference but when Dana’s daughters asked Dana when she thought Amy would stop, Dana replied with something like, “I hope never.” We think what we are doing for someone who is suffering or grieving isn’t enough. But it does make a difference.

So I made an effort to pause my productivity efforts that made me feel like I was doing something by washing sheets and sanitizing bathrooms to just show up and stay present when Miss O cried out in pain and discomfort. I rubbed her back or her feet, told stories, and ordered more medium water from Mr. D. It really is what you are that heals. It’s all part of the magic of being there for someone.

(featured photo from Pexels)

You can find me on LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/wynneleon/ and Instagram @wynneleon

I host the How to Share podcast, a podcast celebrates the art of teaching, learning, giving, and growing.

I also co-host the Sharing the Heart of the Matter podcast, an author, creator and storytelling podcast with the amazing Vicki Atkinson.

Share the Load

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“It’s not the load that weighs you down, it’s the way you carry it.” – C.S. Lewis

When my kids and I recently watched the movie, “A Boy Called Po,” 10-year-old Miss O asked what the description “heavy” meant. The movie is about a widowed father struggling to take care of his autistic son in the wake of his wife’s death and a lot of work pressure. Heavy applies but it’s also a delightful drama.

We’ve had some really interesting family conversations about this movie. Miss O really empathized with the boy in the story who seems to be about 10 or 12-years-old. She was also pretty critical of the dad who she thought should be more patient.

This came on the wake of comment she made to me that the staff at school working with disability students should be more patient. From my point of view, both the dad in the movie and the staff at school are doing the best they can and a pretty good job. So I countered that adults need empathy too.

This is where it gets interesting – because then Miss O said she wanted to do everything I do in a day just to see. We picked Saturday of this weekend. I gave her a list of all the food prep, pet care, chores, and special projects we had for the day.

I checked in to see how she was feeling at lunchtime. She said, “Right now I feel okay. We’ll see how I feel at the end of the day. I can see it might be okay to do for a day but it would be tiring to do all day, every day, for years.”

Then we returned home a little before 5pm after a fun outing, and it was time feed the dog, the cat and make dinner. She made a plan of what she wanted to cook, then discovered she had to empty the dishwasher she’d run earlier, and in the midst of doing that, her younger brother said, “I’m hungry.”   

I offered to help and even so, it was almost two hours between when we came home from our activity and when she got to sit down and eat her dinner. Then the kitchen had to be cleaned, the gecko had to be fed, and there were snacks to prepare for while we watched shows.

At the end of the day she said, “I don’t know how you do it. It’s impossible to get it all done.” She’d finished one load of laundry but it needed to be pulled out of the dryer to fold so the second load could be dried. She observed, “it’d be okay if you could carry things over to the next day but then you have to start everything else all over again.”

For my part, I just tried to let her do it, do everything she asked, and roll with her decisions and timeframe. So I experienced what it’s like to not be in control of the flow and the timing. It was a great lesson for how adaptable my kids are. I also felt far more rested at the end of the day and it gave me an idea of how much wear and tear what I’m trying to do is.

So I’m scripting my own movie, “A Girl Called O.” It’s a comedy, with a side of drama, and the lead is pretty heroic. She cares enough to want to understand and try it all. In the end, not everything is tidied up but the characters care enough for each other to show up and share the load.  

(featured photo is mine)

You can find me on LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/wynneleon/ and Instagram @wynneleon

I host the How to Share podcast, a podcast celebrates the art of teaching, learning, giving, and growing.

I also co-host the Sharing the Heart of the Matter podcast, an author, creator and storytelling podcast with the amazing Vicki Atkinson.

Out of the Mouth of Babes: Three Lines That Open Us Up

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“Kindness in words creates confidence. Kindness in thinking creates profoundness. Kindness in giving creates love.” – Lao Tzu

One of my takeaways from social psychologist Jonathan Haidt’s recent book The Anxious Generation is that kids need to practice working out their relationships with each other. Negotiating what they want and also how to take care of each other is invaluable experience.

So I try to give my kids a lot of room to relate before stepping in. It feels like I have one ear open for how they talk to each other, especially when it’s at high volume. I hear plenty of statements like: “You can’t do that, it’s not fair.” and “Don’t do that ever again.”

But this week I heard three lines that immediately changed the tenor of the conversation. And the best thing about them? They were not specific to childhood.

Line #1

  • Six-year-old said, “I wish Miss O wanted to help.”

And she did. But prior to Mr. D saying that, she wasn’t clued in that he needed help.

Line #2

  • Ten-year-old Miss O said, “Okay, I’m listening.“

The conversation was tense before Miss O said this. Once she said it, they worked out whatever it was they were trying to do.

Line #3

Mr. D said, “Imagine we could…“

And then they were off building a better world.

(featured photo is mine)

You can find me on LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/wynneleon/ and Instagram @wynneleon

I host the How to Share podcast, a podcast celebrates the art of teaching, learning, giving, and growing.

I also co-host the Sharing the Heart of the Matter podcast, an author, creator and storytelling podcast with the amazing Vicki Atkinson.

Life Begins Now: The Parenting Trap

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“It still amazes me that we insist on teaching algebra to all students when only about 20 percent will ever use it and fail to teach anything about parenting when the vast majority of our students will become parents.” – Nel Noddings

My dad used to tell this joke: Three religious leaders were asked the question, “When does life begin?”

The Catholic priest said, “At conception.“

The Protestant pastor replied, “At birth.“

The Rabbi answered, “When the last kid goes to college and the dog dies.“

I’m laughing. Wow do I feel this. As a parent of young children, I do more things in a day that I wouldn’t choose to do than things I would choose. That alone can make me feel as if my life is not my own. Add in the noise and chaos and it’s hard to find peace. Taken all together, that can make this phase of life seem like one to rush through.

 But I know I can’t assume that I’ll be able to enjoy my kids when they are mature adults. I had my kids when I was aged 46 and then 50. When my youngest is 30, I’ll be 80-years-old. Hopefully an alive, healthy, and active 80 years old but nothing is a given. I know that’s true at any age.

So I try to flip the punchline and enjoy my kids, and life, now.

Cleaning up messes

Things in my house are spilled nearly every day. Sometimes by me. Often not very big deals like when a glass of milk with a top on spilled the other day. It just left a corona of milk dotting the carpet.

Here’s the thing I’ve realized. It’s a chance to convey to my dear children that I’ll love them when things are messy.

Bonus points: Longevity specialist Dr. Peter Attia includes getting up from the floor with max of one arm for support on his Centenarian Decathlon list. It includes the ten most important physical tasks you will want to be able to do for the rest of your life. Every time I’m down on the floor cleaning, I celebrate working out the strength and neuromuscular control that I need.

Helping with personal hygiene

It’s funny that kids don’t come with personal hygiene habits baked in. I’d prefer not to have to remind others to brush their teeth or wipe their tush. Add a dog, cat and a crested gecko in the mix and I can pretty much guarantee that most days will have some involvement in someone else’s hygiene.

I love this one because it’s foundational to my outlook. It’s forced me as a congenital optimist, to accept that every day is not going to be perfect, comfortable, or even pretty.

And long after I’m gone, I can trust my kids will have some idea of how to keep their bodies safe.

Bonus points: My personal hygiene has suffered as a parent. Kudos to me when I remember to take care of myself as well.

Feeding them

There are some days where I make food, clean up from making food, only to find that by that time, more food is already required.

But, whether real or metaphorical, I’d argue that giving others fuel to live by is what we are here for.

Bonus points: This is a reminder that cooking is all about exercising our creative muscles. How can I make something when I realize I’m missing an ingredient? How do I make something that’ll last with what I have?

Melt downs

Oh, those moments when big emotions take over and make us uncomfortable. And by us, I mean not only the person melting down but also everyone close at hand. It can be precarious, unpredictable, and draining. It’s also 100% real.

Recently, I took my kids rock climbing. My six-year-old son got stuck halfway up the rock face. He couldn’t find a way past – not moving right or left or shifting his weight. He started to cry. Since I was belaying him, there was nothing I could do except be there with him. And it was the perfect metaphor because I was connected to him by a rope.

From 40 feet away, I shouted up my empathy for his frustration, tried some suggestions, told him he could come down, emphasized that I knew he could do it – everything I could do to help from afar. Finally he shook it off. Then he managed the coolest move — palming the rock with his right hand and smearing the face with his left foot, he leveraged himself up high enough to the next good hold.

It was as rousing of a feat of personal triumph as I’ve ever witnessed.

Here’s where you get to pick your image: port in the storm, rope anchor on a mountain, sacred ground – you have the chance to be that for someone else. And to learn a little bit about what it kicks off in you as well. We don’t often get to see adults do that – the trying, melt down, return and overcoming is usually a longer (and more hidden) process for grown-up risks and triumphs. There is nothing as powerful as watching someone overcome some real adversity. With young kids we get to see that nearly every day.

And then we get to celebrate their success.

Bonus points: It’s hard to stay regulated when someone else is dysregulated. Whether it’s my verbal 10-year-old daughter talking grown-up sounding sass that covers for her childlike emotions underneath or a stranger at the store, I feel it all the way through. But all this practice is helping my central nervous system to be buff!

Distraction

When awake and nearby, my kids provide continual distraction. I could be inside sitting at my computer typing and instead I’m out in a creek skipping rocks. Or I could be sitting on the couch with my phone in hand texting and instead I’m having a dance party and moving my hips. I hunt for snails and hold my kids’ hands while they learn to hoverboard.

Oh, that’s right – I’ve never once regretted a dance party, a rock skipping contest, time in nature, or moving my body.

Bonus points. Psychologist Dr. Alison Gopnik says that kids have lantern brain. They see everything that is around. Adults have spotlight brain – we focus on what needs to be done. Switching into lantern brain can help us solve problems, be creative, and open us to new insights. The distractions can actually help us with solutions for our work when we return to it.

Invasion of personal space

Yesterday my six-year-old son stuffed something in the pocket of my jeans. Gah.  

I’m all for enforcing the boundaries necessary to maintain healthy relationships. But before I decide what those boundaries are, I consider that my kids embody what we look like as open creatures that assume other people will help you carry your stuff.

Bonus points: Ask someone else to help you carry your stuff.

Time

I’m the only one that cares about time in my house. Being on time, getting to bed, the school bell is about to ring, dinner time, time for annual physicals, or it’s about time. All of it.

Because I’m the one that understands time is limited.

Bonus points: Stop caring about the future and enjoy the now.

I’m not guaranteed to get to 80 years old. But I bet that if I do, parenting will have extended my healthspan so that I enjoy it more. And I know I’ll be glad that I didn’t wait until the kids went to college and the dog died to begin living.

(featured photo is mine)

You can find me on LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/wynneleon/ and Instagram @wynneleon

I host the How to Share podcast, a podcast about collaboration – sharing leads to success.

I also co-host the Sharing the Heart of the Matter podcast, an author, creator and storytelling podcast with the amazing Vicki Atkinson.

The Mysterious Case of the Barking Dog

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“In school we learn that mistakes are bad, and we are punished for making them. Yet, if you look at the way humans are designed to learn, we learn by making mistakes. We learn to walk by falling down. If we never fell down, we would never walk.” – Robert Kiyosaki

On a recent afternoon I was going through the mail in the mailbox and found an unsigned, handwritten note on a plain piece of paper that read (including word error),
“Please do not leave you dog out barking. It is unpleasant for neighbors.”

My ten-year-old daughter, Miss O, saw the look on my face as I tried to discern the message. She came to read over my elbow. Sensing a family meeting, six-year-old Mr. D wandered over and asked what we were doing. We read the note through one more time.

“But Cooper doesn’t bark,” Mr. D said. And he’s right, Cooper isn’t a barker. He’ll steal your socks and your steak but he’s quiet about it.

“And we don’t leave him outside,” Miss O added. Also true. Cooper is in the habit of lying on the front porch to watch the neighborhood but that’s when we’re home and the door is open.

“Maybe they have us confused with someone else,” I mused.

We couldn’t figure out the note but we were united in our righteous indignation in defense of Cooper’s honor. Mr. D suggested he rip up the note and throw it as far as he could.

It wasn’t until the next morning in the shower that I connected the dots. One day the week before we were getting ready to leave the house so that I could drive the kids to camp. Cooper was out on the front porch. I called him in and locked the door.

But when I came home about 90 minutes later after dropping the kids and picking up supplies, Cooper was on the front porch and the door was unlocked. One of the kids must have opened the door to check the weather and Cooper snuck out. He wasn’t barking when I came home so I didn’t realize it right away. He must have barked when he realized he was trapped out there.

The funny thing was that I almost didn’t tell the kids once I figured it out. Our righteous indignation felt so comfortable that I kinda wanted to keep wearing it.

But I also know that it builds up over time. The vulnerability of confession doesn’t come naturally to me, but I’ve found owning my errors and frailty keeps my pipes clean. Everything flows better when I don’t let the grime build up. More than that, I feel everything more fully when I shake off the protective coat of righteous indignation or defensiveness.

And it creates space for learning. When I told the kids my solution to the mysterious case of the barking dog, they both nodded and went, “Ooohhh, right!” I bet we’ll remember that lesson.

(featured photo is mine)

You can find me on LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/wynneleon/ and Instagram @wynneleon

I host the How to Share podcast, a podcast about collaboration – sharing leads to success.

I also co-host the Sharing the Heart of the Matter podcast, an author, creator and storytelling podcast with the amazing Vicki Atkinson.

The Rope Team

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“Sometimes life is too hard to be alone, and sometimes life is too good to be alone.” – Elizabeth Gilbert

When I was climbing mountains, I noticed a funny thing when we roped up on the higher slopes of a mountain. We transformed from being individual hikers to becoming a team. The physical manifestation made a psychological difference.

Fortunately, I’ve never had to arrest the fall of someone else while on a rope team. But I have willingly climbed into a crevasse. It made me immensely grateful for the people above holding on to the rope.

A similar team phenomenon happened to me and my kids a couple of weeks ago when we were on vacation.

It was perfectly smooth when the kids and I decided to go paddleboarding after dinner. But by the time we got our paddleboards into the water, it was starting to blow again.

We’d been paddling every day for ten days to get the feel for the tides and current. At the beginning of the vacation, six-year-old Mr. D was paddling with me riding on the back of his board. Once he’d gotten proficient enough with his strokes, he graduated to be on his own.

So Mr D was on his own paddleboard. Ten-year-old Miss O had decided she just wanted to ride along on mine. On this night, Mr. D wanted to go all the way down the bay to the pirate flag, a notable marker about a mile down the beach from where we launched.

When we were about halfway there, the wind was present but not too much of a factor. We held a family meeting to make sure we wanted to continue. Mr. D had looked at that flag for 10 days and was determined to get there.

We celebrated momentarily when we reached the pirate flag. Then Mr. D said he was tired and just wanted to rest. At nearly the same moment, the wind whipped up and started pushing us farther away from home.

I said aloud, mostly for Miss O’s benefit, “Please, God, help us.” We weren’t in immediate danger but it was going to be a hard paddle back. At any point, we could have paddled 20 yards to the to the beach and walked back. It would have been a slog pulling the boards but it was a viable option.

Miss O got philosophical about how we ask God for help. We weren’t asking for it to be easy – just for help in any form. As it was, Miss O volunteered to get on Mr. D’s board to both give it more weight and to paddle.

Even with the two of them, they were being pushed backwards by wind. So I attached my leash to their board and we paddled back as a team. I paddled on my board, Miss O and Mr. D took turns paddling on theirs. Roped together, we slowly made our way home.

The overall feeling when we hit the beach? Gratitude. Thank God Miss O had opted to ride along and had fresh arms. Thank God she made the transfer from one board to another without mishap. Thank God for making us a team.

Because that was what stuck with us. Just like with climbing, roping together turned paddling into a team building exercise -and it worked. There are so many ways we are buffeted by the winds of life. A team can make all the difference.

(featured photo is mine)

You can find me on LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/wynneleon/ and Instagram @wynneleon

I host the How to Share podcast, a podcast about collaboration – in our families, friendships, at work and in the world.

I also co-host the Sharing the Heart of the Matter podcast, an author, creator and storytelling podcast with the amazing Vicki Atkinson.

And for anyone curious about the inside of a crevasse, here’s what it looks like:

Life(cycle) of the Party

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“You knew it would be hard and it would be uncomfortable and it might be awkward and you did it anyway. That’s courage.” – Arnold Schwarzenegger

I did it. We did it, I should say. We threw a backyard birthday party for Mr. D’s sixth birthday and hosted 21 kids under the age of eight plus about a dozen parents. And the we? I hired Miss O and two of her 10-year-old friends to help. I also had the invaluable assistance of a young woman who was Mr. D’s pre-school teacher and has become a great family friend.

Here are ten things I seem to learn and re-learn about the life(cycle) of the party.

  1. Parties are a great forcing function. I’m guessing it would be easier to rent a party venue. But I love the opportunity to invest in my home. I try to do a home improvement project and a purge project before every party. I don’t think I sat down for three days leading up to the event. But I laid more pavers to expand my backyard seating area and filled eight bags of dishware, textiles, and toys to give away. That alone made the party a win before it even started!
  2. You have to sleep on it to learn. I walked 22,160 steps on the day of the party. At the end of the day, I was too exhausted to know or feel anything…other than tired. The lessons learned didn’t show up til the next morning.
  3. Even the happiest of events will exhaust you. Mr. D loved his party. It was a fair theme with Crocodile Cave water slide on one side of the yard, an inflatable hot tub on the other and in between a bottle-ring toss game, Skee ball setup, fishing game, and a flipping rings game. After lunch and birthday cake, we made shaved ice cones, cotton candy, applied tattoos and had a ballon art station.

    Mr. D almost fell asleep in his dinner.
  4. You plan, plan, plan… and then let it happen. Miss O had beautifully drawn out the time table for three party phases: WET,  DRYING, and DRY. We had roles assigned for each. We were about 15 minutes into the party when we made our first substitution.
  5. There is that guy at parties regardless of age. In one terrifying moment, I came eyeball-to-eyeball with a six-year-old that said, “I’m going to open the gecko’s cage.” I had to race the kid to the keys. I never thought twice about leaving the enclosure key in the door like we always do.

    The party shtick of that guy (not meant to be gender specific) starts early.
  6. The messy middle happens every time. There was a moment right before birthday cake where it all felt impossible. We took a deep breath and made it through.
  7. No one naturally markets their stuff. Each of the “fair activities” had its own arc. But when the lines at a particular stand ebbed, nobody wanted to be the carnival barker to attract an audience.
  8. Mixing up the ages benefits everyone. In this case it was letting older kids take care of younger kids. It made both ages feel special.
  9. Save time for the after part. My favorite part was after all the guests left. The workers, Miss O, and Mr. D got to really enjoy the fun.
  10. There are a few people that will go the extra mile to appreciate the effort. Keep them close. All the parents were lovely and grateful. A couple went out of the way to tell me afterwards what they appreciated. I suspect these are also the people I know, online and in real life, that take the time to leave good reviews. I want to be more like them.

Looking this over, I think it might be the lifecycle of all the hard things I’ve done. What do you think – is there a predictable arc of big to-dos? Did I miss any lessons learned?

(featured photo from Pexels)

You can find me on LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/wynneleon/ and Instagram @wynneleon

I host the How to Share podcast, a podcast about collaboration – in our families, friendships, at work and in the world.

I also co-host the Sharing the Heart of the Matter podcast, an author, creator and storytelling podcast with the amazing Vicki Atkinson.

Best Mother’s Day Gift

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“You are imperfect, you are wired for struggle, but you are worthy of love and belonging.” – Brené Brown

As I type this, I can hear my kids 10 feet away slurping their hot chocolate. It’s the end of a busy weekend. We had our family over for Mother’s Day and now are winding down.

I’m trying to put my finger on the feeling. Over the course of the weekend, in addition to hosting a family party, my kids and I played a lot of baseball, done chores, cooked meals, watched movies and worked on a project outside to transform an area of our back yard. That last activity involved a lot of manual labor as we dug out a flat space and installed pavers to turn what used to be the base of the kids’ playhouse into a cozy place to sit in the garden.

In the last 48 hours, we’ve hurt our knuckles on the rough paving stones, cried some, especially when we lost our baseballs, and laughed a lot more than we cried. Along the way to finishing our project, we also bought this silly ball pitching machine that sends small 1.6 inch diameter foam balls zinging across the yard at 30 miles per hour. My body aches from moving heavy stones and gravel and chasing small yellow balls.

But my heart is so full. It’s the camaraderie with our extended family. Also this feeling that I’m right where I should be. I love my children whole-heartedly…and I like them too.

When I chose to start a family as a single parent ten years ago I had very little idea of how much work would be involved. I was listening to a God whisper about what came next for my life.

The Mother’s Day feeling I’m having right now? That I belong in this life. I suspect that might be one of the best gifts ever.

(featured photo is mine of our work in progress garden seating area)

You can find me on LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/wynneleon/ and Instagram @wynneleon

I host the How to Share podcast, a podcast focused on the wisdom and research about how to share anything – to the appropriate audience, with the right permissions, at the most opportune time.

I also co-host the Sharing the Heart of the Matter podcast, an author, creator and storytelling podcast with the amazing Vicki Atkinson.

My other projects include work as a CEO (Chief Encouragement Officer), speaking about collaboration and AI through the Chicago Writer’s Association, and my book about my journey to find what fueled my dad’s indelible spark and twinkle can be found on Amazon: Finding My Father’s Faith.

Right on the Money

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“Love recognizes no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls to arrive at its destination full of hope.” – Maya Angelou

When my daughter was born nine years ago, someone quoted to me the line from Elizabeth Stone, “It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.” I instantly connected with that incredible truth of the powerful pull and responsibility of parenting.

It’s a motivating theme that Carl Vonderau taps into for his heart-pounding thrillers. What wouldn’t we do to keep our children safe? Vicki and I were so lucky to be able to talk to him about families, thrillers and what keeps us growing in the latest episode of our podcast, Episode 113: From Banking to Thrillers with Author Carl Vonderau.

Carl left the world of international banking to become a writer, and he masterfully weaves his banking knowledge and upbringing as a Christian Scientist into his novels.

Carl takes us on a journey as he shares his meticulous research process for the locations in his books. His dedication to capturing the essence of each place is truly fascinating.

We admire and chuckle at Carl’s language skills. He shares the wisdom that to speak a foreign language, you must be willing to embrace embarrassment.

Carl gives us an exclusive preview of Carl’s upcoming book, Past Due. Discover why one of his core themes is the necessity for families to grow and evolve.

This is a must-listen episode featuring an intriguing author, adventurer, and family man, Carl Vonderau. We know you’ll love it!

AND subscribe to our YouTube channel to see a video clip of each story: @SharingtheHeartoftheMatter.

Links for this episode

⁠Episode 113 show notes⁠

⁠Carl Vonderau » Carl Vonderau⁠

⁠Carl Vonderau⁠ on Amazon

⁠Carl Vonderau ⁠on Goodreads

From the hosts:

Vicki’s book about resilience and love: ⁠Surviving Sue⁠; Blog: ⁠https://victoriaponders.com/⁠

My book about my beloved father: ⁠Finding My Father’s Faith⁠

(featured photo from Pexels)

Stealing the Show

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“You gotta keep swinging. You gotta keep believing.” – Babe Ruth

I remember the moment that I realized one of the ways that Mr. D is different than Miss O. He was about two-years-old when I came into the kitchen and found a plastic ball in the middle of my pot of simmering spaghetti sauce. It’s not that Miss O didn’t/doesn’t play with balls – it’s that it’s almost constant with Mr. D.

So it’s been so fun to see him able to turn that constant batting, catching, dribbling, bobbling, and kicking into team fun when he started playing Little League this spring at age five.

Mr. D is so excited about starting on a Little League team that he asked to podcast about it. Which is saying something because he’s not as naturally voluble as his older sister. Vicki and I had so much fun talking with him on Episode 110: Little League with Mr. D.

I’m clearly biased about our guest. But in my opinion listening to the enthusiasm of a kid excited about a team, a sport, and the crack of the ball against a bat stirs the well of our own passions.  

Mr. D shows us all the equipment necessary for Little League – including my favorite, the bubble gum.

We talk about the magic that often happens when we go to MLB games. Vicki tells us about the ball parks and teams in Chicago.

This podcast meanders a bit as we ride along with a young and curious guest. But he brings it all together with an incredible answer when Vicki asks him what he likes best a little before minute 17 in the recording.

We also included a little easter egg after the credits at minute 19. Mr. D shows you don’t have to know how to spell in order to capture hearts.

Join us as we explore the scenic and beautiful places we go when we tell baseball stories. You won’t want to miss this heart-warming and refreshing perspective of five-year-old Mr. D!

We know you’ll love it!

Search (and subscribe!) for Sharing the Heart of the Matter on Apple, Amazon, Spotify or Pocket Casts OR Listen to it from your computer on Anchor: Episode 110: Little League With Mr. D

Episode 110 Transcript

AND subscribe to our YouTube channel to see a video clip of each story: @SharingtheHeartoftheMatter.

Links for this episode:

Want more baseball? Check out this episode where Bruce Bohrer talks about being an usher at Wrigley field: Episode 13: Best Seat in the House podcast with Bruce Bohrer

From the hosts:

Vicki’s book about resilience and love: Surviving Sue; Blog: https://victoriaponders.com/

My book about my beloved father: Finding My Father’s Faith;