Leaves, leaves everywhere and not a rake in sight

Anyone who has seen our yard would agree raking is a futile activity. And now I can't even locate the rake.




Too many leaves. Too much "yard," if you can even call it that. I prefer to think of it as indefinite forest.


It makes a nice backdrop, too.

Tunes

I recently took up the piano because a) I can no longer play the violin and terribly miss making music and b) Reagan's great-grandmother surprised us with a piano this fall.

The best (or worst) part of all is that I'm teaching myself to play. Tracy's mom recently took pity on my plight and hooked me up with a stack of piano books. The kind with big notes and large print designed for the kindergarten crowd. Tracy and his siblings worked their way through them eons ago. Right now I'm playing pieces my husband and in-laws played back in '89. That means I'm only 20 years behind.

OK. Time to fess up. The real reason I'm playing "Crunchy Flakes" and "Michael, Row Your Boat Ashore" multiple times until I get them right? So my little boy gets to grow up with music in the house.

It sounds a little cheesy, but music is such a gift.

Goodbye, summer!

Tracy and I thought we would wrap up the official last week of summer by taking Reagan out on the water one last time ... before cooler fall temperatures set in. Chilly Labor Day weekend weather beat us to the punch, so we settled for a bike ride. Reagan loves riding in his Chariot, so he didn't mind the change of plans, as evidenced by that big grin.

Welcome, fall!

Reagan goes for a swim

Uncle Matt outfitted Reagan with a snazzy new Hyperlite life jacket from Scheel's, so we thought it was time for the little guy to test the waters a bit.

Four generations

Reagan met his great-grandmother last weekend. Grandma Harrelson lives in Omaha and can no longer travel, so Dad, Mom, Reagan and I made the trip to see her. We took a four-generation photo to show Reagan when he's older.

This was the little guy's longest car ride, but he was such a trooper. And my parents loved spending time with their grandson. (Nana insisted on riding in the backseat the whole way there and back.)

Reagan's weekend on the water

Reagan went out on the boat for the first time last weekend. He wasn't quite ready for wakeboarding, but he sure dressed the part.

Cool shades? Check. Rashguard? Check. Board shorts? Check. Frontside 360? Maybe we'll save that for next summer.

Here's one for the Gipper

My husband and I put off picking out a name for our firstborn the greater part of nine months. It wasn’t that we didn’t care. We just realized early on that naming your child isn’t like naming the family pet. Fido down the street doesn’t mind if you call your pooch “Fluffy.” Give your kid a questionable name, and the neighbor kids can be downright cruel.

It wasn’t until the little guy arrived that we settled on a name: Reagan.

The name parents choose to give their son or daughter always invites commentary, and our experience was no different. Our son’s name elicited its fair share of “that’s unique” and “oh, how cute.” A few brave souls dared ask if we named him after the late president, a question I was more than happy to entertain.

See, there’s a reason we didn’t name him Carter or Clinton.

I was 5 when the space shuttle Challenger went down. I was too young to understand the political implications of such a disaster, but I understood this much: The men and women who boarded that space shuttle were special. And when I watched it fall to pieces in the middle of my living room, my heart broke for those mommies and daddies and the children they left behind.

Tied to my memory of what befell those seven astronauts is President Ronald Reagan’s response. The president was supposed to deliver his State of the Union address that evening. He didn’t. Reagan understood it was a time for mourning and remembering, not for boasting of his administration’s grand plans and accomplishments.

That night, rather than balking and drawing rank in the face of such a disaster, the president renewed America’s commitment to space exploration. And then he spoke to me. Or at least it seemed his next words were just for me. Reagan took a moment to reassure the nation’s schoolchildren. Tragedies like the Challenger explosion, he explained, are “all part of the process of exploration and discovery.

“The future doesn’t belong to the fainthearted. It belongs to the brave.”

Say what you will about Reagan — during this election season, every pundit and politician seems to be taking his or her turn — the man was fearless.

June 5 marked the fourth anniversary of the Gipper’s death. I was blessed to grow up in the shadow of his presidency. I wonder if a man of his caliber will rise to the occasion during my son’s lifetime.

My son was given his name because I hope he, too, will not back down in the face of adversity. That he would exemplify the strength and courage of Reagan and, while he may not take on Kremlins and Cold Wars, that he would acknowledge the evil in this world and fight for what is good.

In that same speech, Reagan remarked that the Challenger Seven honored their country by the manner in which they lived their lives.

I pray the same can be said of Reagan.