Entitlement

Calling "shotgun". I'm not sure which household this originated in. It is probably centuries old....or at least as old as the shotgun. In my household it is alive and well. Without fail if more than one child is to accompany me, the chaos of "I call shotgun" begins. Trying to keep order I came up with the system "oldest child gets shotgun". This of course becomes problematic with twins and birth order. Everyone seems to feel they are entitled to the front seat position.

The concept of entitlement, "I am special and can do what I want" became very visual on a recent shopping trip. We were not the brave souls who woke up at dawn to stand in line for bargains the day after Thanksgiving - but we were brave enough to venture out after breakfast. As we entered Kohl's I was shocked to see someone wheeling in a Toys R' Us shopping cart passed me and charge into the store. More than once we had to pin ourselves against a display so a rogue shopping cart could maneuver past. For some reason these people decided the the Kohl's shopping carts weren't good enough them (even though they are made to FIT in the aisles), no they had to have a Target or Toys R' Us shopping cart. They needed big. They were entitled to big, no matter how crowded and uncomfortable it made shopping for everyone else.

Perhaps these people always got to ride shotgun - hard to say. Wouldn't it be nice if the only thing people felt entitled to was humility and a gracious and giving spirit. That is a dream. For my part, I will try to be less entitled, more gracious, and train at least four children (no matter how exhausting) that riding shotgun isn't always the best.

Connections

I could hardly believe my eyes, $65 in text messages. We are archaic parents who do not believe in the text messaging. We believe that if two people want to communicate, maybe they should try talking - in person or on the phone. After many exorbitant bills we had just blocked one child's phone from text messages, now another one has gone bad. It is amazing the high cost to stay connected.

In the "old days", if you moved you communicated by a large long distance bill or wrote letters. (Pieces of paper, placed in items called envelopes that required stamps). It is much easier to stay connected now. I am so thankful we moved to Texas in the age of technology. We are able to read the local paper and watch local news via the Internet - even when "local" means half way across the country. Through e-mail I have connected with people in Colorado, Oregon, Illinois, California and Guam just this week.

I marvel at the fact that I can have a friend share a concern, prayer request, problem and I can respond almost instantaneously. I don't have to worry if they're not home, or the time difference. I can write and connect. Connections make far away friends and family seem closer.

In a way we are catching up to God. He has always had the best technology. We pray - instantly He hears us. We're connected. We feel his closeness. I'm thankful for connections.

Time moves too quickly....

Time moves much too quickly. In fact I planned to write this blog three days ago. Where does the time go?

I was thinking that thought on Halloween. It was a noteworthy day for our family. It was the first time I can remember no Sherrill children donned costumes and went trick-or-treating. Though our son tried to rally some friends to venture out - no one was home, and thus our streak ended. There was no rush to finish dinner, no last minute costume crisis, no sifting through sack fulls of candy to make sure it was safe, no secret stash to occasionally "visit" during the week. We had a good run, with many great costumes: clowns, 50's girls (that skirt lasted years), a hippy (wearing MY dress....also lasting years), a scientist, a tourist complete with white socks and camera, and the alien abduction costume which will go down in history as the all time best. I have photos of all these - somewhere, in a box, waiting to be organized and scrap booked.

I smiled as we were overrun on Halloween by trick-or-treaters: a two foot Yoda, Dorothy and Toto too, princesses and pumpkins. There were camera flashes as parents took pictures on our doorstep, posing their costumed kids with the inflatable Snoopy we had on our porch.

Perhaps I should have spoken to them to enjoy and savor the night. To remind them that time slips away quickly. Or at least to print and file away their pictures so they can find them if they should become nostalgic and sentimental.