A Boy, A Pillow, and Yes....the Saints!

The world of 3-year olds is unpredictable. Especially 3 year old boys with a tendency to be hyper and impulsive. But occasionally, the stars align and the results are surprising, to say the least!

Samuel did great during the rehearsal on Saturday, so on Sunday we were cautiously optimistic. We fed him his favorite chicken nuggets on the way to the hotel, but after eating he fell asleep in the car. Oh no….too early for his nap! But about 15 minutes later we were there and we had to force him into his 3-piece suit, socks, and shoes. A rose was pinned to his lapel and his hair was styled and sprayed. All of this is obviously torturous for a tired preschooler. We barely got him to cooperate for a picture with the bride, and then it was over as far as cooperation was concerned. He was absolutely NOT going to be in any more photographs, so finally we gave up and went up to the empty hotel room belonging to family. Family who were downstairs getting family pictures made with the bride and groom…pictures without a certain tired toddler. All of the offensive, evil clothing was removed and we tried to get him to take a nap, but to NO avail!

Waiting until the last possible minute to redress him, we finally made it back downstairs for the ceremony. He was thirsty. He was antsy. He was restless. Mommy was nervous! The ceremony started and everyone was beautiful. I could see Elton in the back as I sat near the front feeding Olivia coconut M & M’s as a way to keep her quiet. When the time came for the ring bearer to do his job, I could see Samuel slowly walking out to the aisle area. Hundreds of faces turned back to smile at him. I turned my camera on and quickly snapped a picture, fully expecting him to bolt off into a mad dash, probably into the muddy grass for a nice mud bath. But with an almost audible snap, the stars aligned and a miracle unfolded: that crazy boy did exactly, perfectly, what he was supposed to do! He carefully cradled the pillow. He slowly placed one foot in front of the other. He mildly smiled and sweetly looked into the eyes of many of the hundreds of faces staring at him. And slo…www….ly….he walked up the aisle, past the staring faces and distracting rose petals on the grass. At the front, he paused and gave me a confident look before walking over and taking his place by the groomsmen.

I nearly fainted. I almost cried. I couldn’t breathe.

Mr. Handsome coming up the aisle.

Standing in place. Can you believe it?!?

Granted, he fiddled with the pillow. The rings got loose and the pillow was held backwards. And 5 minutes into the ceremony he decided he was done and came back to sit by Daddy. But oh, what a performance up until then….my heart was bursting with pride and hope. Hope that yes, one day he won’t be such a crazy, hyper child. One day, he will do what he is supposed to do, a majority of the time!

So miracles do happen. Because on another note, in the midst of this unfolding drama, another drama was wildly being played out thousands of miles away in the New Orleans Superdome. Elton and I (and dozens of guests….I saw you and you know who you are!) were watching the Saints game on his iPhone. One of the groomsmen (they were all Vikings fans, ugh!) agreed to send me hand signals during the crucial last 2 minutes of game time, since Elton had his iPhone in the back and I was temporarily in the dark about the game. And right around the time that the happy Bride and Groom shared their first kiss, the miraculous dream of the Saints going to the Super Bowl became a reality! The groomsman reluctantly greeted me after the ceremony with the agreed-upon 2-thumbs-up gesture, which meant overtime play, with the Saints victorious! Awesome! Loved it!

Miles and Keri Presnell with my Olivia Sunshine

Tiger Woods and the Saints

I can't believe I'm going to blog about sports! But I guess, maybe it's not too weird. I never thought of myself as being a sports fanatic, because to me, a sports fanatic is one of those guys who come to parties and spend all their time spouting trivia details such as the winner of the 1976 Super Bowl or who had the best batting average in 1992. A sports fanatic has jerseys for all their favorite players, spends hours watching live and recorded games, and turns blue in the face if you dare mention an 'enemy' team. And since I don't have any jerseys (yet), don't know who won which Super Bowl, and can't tell you how to calculate batting averages, I don't consider myself a sports fanatic.

HOWEVER, does golf count as a sport....ha...just kidding, of course it does. And I LOVE golf! Before marrying my husband, I thought golf must be the most boring thing in the world. But in the early days of our marriage (before kids, of course), I loved to sit and watch him play his golf game on the PlayStation. He'd explain everything from pars to putting strategy. I guess in a way, it was a bonding experience, and as a blissful newlywed I wouldn't have cared if he was talking about golf or stock exchange rates as long as we were spending time together. A weird thing happened; I started to be very interested in golf. I went with him to the driving range and learned about clubs. I drove with him in the golf cart as he played, and as I breathed in the scent of open air and grass, I fell in love with the sport. It was so fascinating to observe...and that's what I should clarify; I do not play golf myself, but rather I love watching it and knowing about it! I absolutely love watching it played, and trying to figure out what the player is thinking and how he's gauging his putt. To me, it's incredibly interesting because it's a game played so much in the mind, as well as in the physical. There are no team dynamics; other than the player, his skill, and his brain. So cool!

Hogan's Bridge at the Augusta National Golf Course in Georgia, home of The Masters

And of course, I've always been a fan of Tiger Woods, because of his game. His drive and ambition. His goals and determination. The way he could block out so much and play the game with his mind, and how the other players fall like chess pieces when Tiger is in the zone and hurtling down the back nine with a steel-trap focus glinting in his eyes. I mean, how can you not stand back and be amazed at that sort of playing? Those golf-record-shattering statistics played out in front of our eyes? Even his competition begrudgingly admits their admiration. I know all about his recent personal drama, and as a woman, wife, and mother I am very ashamed and disappointed in him. In all honesty, I truly hope he gets everything repaired as much as possible because I'd love to know that his marriage and family are doing well. And then as a golf fan, I eagerly anticipate his return to golf because I want to see him continue to play well, and to continue to set golf records.

And then...there are the SAINTS! Oh my, when those SAINTS go marching in! I grew up in Bogalusa, near New Orleans, and whether you liked football or not, you lived in the Saints Nation, Under God. Don't bother telling me about their less-than-stellar record; I lived in the years of bags over heads and sad Sundays with disappointing trumps by other teams. However, being a fan doesn't mean you stop liking a team (or golf player) just because they are losing! A true fan loves a team even when they are down. A true fan is faithful. And the reward for that, is that when the team is WINNING finally, you can rejoice even more fully!

I remember going to my friend's houses on Sundays (we didn't own a TV) and watching the games. I've been to the Superdome countless times. I could play "Oh When The Saint's Go Marching In" on the trumpet. And even though I've moved away, I've never cared about any other NFL team. I've always loved the Saints, even though I didn't follow them as closely as some of my friends have. I couldn't tell you the first and last names of most of the players, although I admired Reggie Bush and his talent for reasons I can't really explain. But this year my attention was certainly jerked back to the Saints Nation as Drew Brees and his mighty arm began to gain national attention. The American nation, not just the Saints Nation, that is. The wins have piled up and I have breathlessly watched, dancing to "Who-Dat" (much to my husband's amusement) thousands of miles away from Louisiana, here in Hawaii. My friend Kari Jordan and I texted our game commentary to each other during the entire Saints VS Falcons game. And now I am finally ready to move on to the next level of fanhood and buy a jersey; I just can't decide if I should celebrate Brees and his leadership or my loyalty to Bush.

So there you have my sports thoughts on Tiger and the Saints. Here's to the Super Bowl for the Saints and a soon return, with stellar wins and an improved personal life, of Tiger Woods.