The Fourth of July: Oklahoma Tried to Melt Us ☀️

We had our big Fourth of July cookout and swim day with the family. When everyone is here, there are 22 of us. Yes… twenty-two humans. That is no longer a small family gathering. That is an event that requires planning, food inventory, and possibly a traffic director. 😂

Dennis had the outside all decorated and ready. We had flags and stars everywhere, sparklers waiting for the kids, and Katie painted a Fourth of July banner. Everything looked festive and patriotic… exactly how the Fourth should look.

Now the weather? That was a different story.

Because it’s Oklahoma, apparently Mother Nature decided we needed to celebrate our freedom by testing our ability to survive.

It was 100 degrees most of the day with absolutely no breeze. None. The trees weren’t moving. The air wasn’t moving. I’m pretty sure even the birds looked around and said, “Nope!”

Even the pool water was warm.

And when you’re the one running around making sure everyone has food, drinks, towels, sunscreen, and that all the things are getting done… it feels about 20 degrees hotter.

At one point I had to go inside, sit on my bedroom floor directly in front of the fan, and recover. Dennis came with me and claimed it was to “make sure I didn’t die.”

Sure, Dennis.

I think he wanted the air conditioning too. 😂

Eventually Dennis got the water hose and just started spraying people. It did not matter if you were in the pool, out of the pool, walking by, or just existing. If you were outside, you were fair game.

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Dang Oklahoma heat. We are used to it… but we are also usually smart enough to stay inside when it’s that hot. Unfortunately, you can’t exactly have a backyard cookout in the living room.

We made a ridiculous amount of hot dogs, smoked sausage, barbecue chicken, potato salad, macaroni salad, fresh fruit, cupcakes, and had ice chests full of drinks. Basically the normal holiday spread where you prepare like you’re feeding the entire neighborhood.

And kids are funny. They ask for food all day long… until the food is actually ready.

Then suddenly swimming is more important than eating.

We made everyone dry off long enough to take family pictures, which is basically an Olympic event with that many kids. Then they jumped right back in the pool and within minutes were yelling from the shallow end asking if they could have a cupcake.

Of course. 😂

Then Oklahoma said, “That’s cute. Let me add a little drama.”

A huge storm cloud rolled in and shut the Fourth down. Some areas had winds up to 90 mph — thankfully not where we were — but it was enough to postpone the fireworks show until the 5th.

Because apparently even the fireworks looked at the weather and said, “Yeah… we’re not doing this today.”

It was hot. It was chaotic. It was loud. It was exhausting.

And it was exactly what a family Fourth of July should be. ❤️🇺🇸

250 Candles on America’s Birthday Cakej

This year, America turns 250 years old. Two hundred and fifty. That number is hard to wrap my head around when I stop and think about it. Two hundred and fifty years ago, a group of people signed a document and declared that they wanted something different. They wanted the freedom to make their own choices, govern themselves, and build a future that belonged to them.

Were they perfect? Of course not. Has America always gotten everything right? Not even close. But what amazes me is that through wars, depressions, disagreements, disasters, victories, and generations of change, this country is still here.

Think about all the people who came before us. Farmers. Teachers. Soldiers. Factory workers. Parents. Grandparents. People who built homes, raised families, started businesses, and simply tried to make life a little better for the people who came after them.  Most of them will never appear in a history book. Yet they helped build the country we live in today. 

When I think about America’s 250th birthday, I don’t just think about fireworks and parades. I think about all those ordinary people who quietly did their part. The ones who worked hard, paid their bills, raised decent kids, helped their neighbors, and left things a little better than they found them. That’s the real story of America. Not just the famous names. The rest of us too. People like our parents and grandparents. People like us.

Two hundred and Fifty is a long time. Entire nations have risen and fallen during that span. Yet here we are, still arguing, still growing, still stumbling sometimes, but still moving forward. Maybe that’s the lesson of America. We don’t have to agree on everything to love our country. We don’t have to be perfect to be proud.  And we don’t have to forget our history to celebrate how far we’ve come.

So when America blows out 250 candles, I hope we take a moment to appreciate what an incredible milestone it is. Not because we’re perfect....But because we’re still here.

And that’s worth celebrating.

When the Couch, A/C, and TV Align Just Right

I had the BEST nap today. Seriously… maybe the best nap I have had since moving to Yukon 16 years ago!

Not one of those naps where you wake up confused, sweating, and wondering if it’s tomorrow. This was the perfect nap. The couch hit just right. The pillow was perfect. The A/C was at that magical temperature. The TV was playing just loud enough that dreaming slightly  about what your hearing… but also drifting off into the best sleep of your life.

It was nap perfection.

The only problem is this makes two days in a row I have napped my afternoons away. Apparently my body has discovered this new feature called “relaxing” and I’m not sure what to do with that information.

And here I am typing this at 3:00 in the morning.

But before anyone blames the nap… nope! I’m actually tired. This one is on Kelsey, the woman rowing across the Atlantic. I have followed this journey, so obviously I had to stay awake and watch her come into port. You can’t watch someone row across an entire ocean and then miss the finish line because it’s past your bedtime.

So now I’m heading to bed hoping tonight’s sleep is half as good as that perfect couch, cold room, TV-in-the-background nap.

Because apparently retirement comes with a new hobby… accidentally becoming a professional napper.

I Came For Toilet Paper

I really don’t think I am that hard to get along with. I smile at people. I hold doors open. I donate to causes I care about. I’ll even listen to a kid tell me all about a video game I don’t understand for twenty minutes straight. What I do not enjoy is running the gauntlet every time I go to Walmart.

I came for toilet paper and dog food. That’s it. I did not come to switch my internet provider, buy discount windows, donate to three different fundraisers, enter a raffle, sponsor a softball team, or discuss my cell phone plan with a complete stranger standing between me and a shopping cart.

The minute you get out of your car, they’re waiting. Sure, you can deploy the classic avoidance tactics. Believe me, I've tried them all—scrolling pointlessly through a blank phone screen, or frantically digging around in my purse like I've suddenly misplaced my life savings. You can even pull the ultimate maneuver: aggressively pointing at your earbuds with a painfully awkward shrug to signal that you are deaf to the world. But let's be honest, it never works. They completely ignore your desperate, universal signs of "please leave me alone" and just keep right on talking anyway.

One person wants a donation. Another wants a signature. A third wants to save you money on something you never planned to buy in the first place.

Cue the awkward shuffle.

"No, thank you."
"I'm good, thanks."
"Not today!"

You paste on a tight smile, pick up your pace, and avoid eye contact at all costs. It’s basically speed dating for things I don’t want. The worst part is, they hit you going in, and they hit you coming out.

Look, I get it. People are trying to raise money, but honestly? If I wanted what they were selling, I’d go looking for it.

I miss the days when the hardest part of shopping was figuring out which aisle they moved the dog food to. Now, I need the reflexes of a ninja and the emotional detachment of a hostage negotiator just to breach the front doors. Stop it!

If these stores really want to improve my shopping experience, they can start by letting me get from my car to the toilet paper isle without a work out!

What Actually Matters

I was thinking today about something people ask from time to time… what’s it like having a gay son?

My answer is always the same.

It’s like having a son.

Seriously, that’s it.

People act like it’s some completely different parenting experience, but it really isn’t. He’s funny, smart, brutally honest, and one of my favorite people to shop with because he actually has style. He’ll tell me if something looks terrible without sugarcoating it, and I appreciate that more than the sales clerk telling me everything looks “cute.”

I have four children. Three are married to the opposite sex, and one is gay. The truth is, I don’t think about their relationships differently. I don’t sit around defining them by who they love. I define them by who they are.

That’s what matters.

When I meet someone my children love, I don’t have a checklist that starts with sexual orientation. My checklist is much simpler.

Are they kind?

Do they make my child laugh?

Do they show up when life gets hard?

Do they work hard, love well, and treat people with respect?

Are they good to their family? Patient with children? Compassionate toward older people? The kind of person you’d be proud to have around your dinner table?

Those are the things I notice.

Character has always mattered more to me than labels.

Being the mom of a gay son hasn’t changed how I love, worry, celebrate, or cheer for my child. It hasn’t changed what I hope for him either. I want him to find someone who is loyal, kind, dependable, and who makes life better just by being in it.

Because that’s what I want for all four of my children.

At the end of the day, relationships aren’t built on labels. They’re built on character. And character will always matter more than anything else.