Boys will be Joys

In honor and anticipation of Mother’s Day, I’m going to share a memory that we came upon last week.

I took some time off of work last week in an attempt to get my life together. We all know that is never fully attainable, but we made a good dent in it by trying to declutter. We donated a ton of stuff to our favorite thrift store –Mansfield Mission Center. We also tossed a lot of stuff and organized the rest.

So when Isaac and Cora came by, we said “Hey – come see how clean our closet is!” We thought they would politely decline, but to our surprise, they agreed.

When they came in our closet, they saw our brown banker boxes that were stocked high on a shelf – each labeled with the name of a Rennert child. When Isaac saw his name, he instantly needed to know what was in it.

These are boxes that I have kept in my closet for several years where I keep a few memories that I just couldn’t bear to throw away.

Personal victory: I used to save everything (because I have issues- that’s a whole different post). I did, though, come to a point in my life where I realized I couldn’t save every paper because that is unhealthy, but a few were too good to let go of.

So, we got the box down and looked through all the memories. I saved his report cards, achievement tests, medals from placing in WYSE, a very short book he wrote in 5th grade, and the pink warning slip he received the first time he was pulled over.

…and a Mother’s Day card.

If you can read the writing in the next picture, it says “Mom, thank you for teaching me how to walk, talk, eat (and play teather ball).”

None of us remember those lessons, but they must have been pretty impactful at the time. I know this because of the action shot that he included in the card.

I appreciate how skinny he made me look and my stylish hair flipped up on the ends.

He also must have considered those lessons to be pretty serious. If you notice, my tounge is sticking out of my mouth – that’s always been his thing when he’s really concentrating. I was not casually teaching him a game from my childhood. I meant business.

I think this really says it all, though..

I know, right? It must have been epic. I guess the lessons were effective, as well. The scratched out message (which was pretty common in cards from all my kids) was telling me who he schooled in tetherball. I recognize the name, but to protect the innocent, I will not reveal it.

In conclusion… Isaac, you’re welcome!