Guilty

“Hey, how long ago did you get this ticket?” Corbin asked, flipping through some papers on my desk.
“Oh yeah, I meant to ask you about that. What do I need to do with it?”
“Well, did you read it? Looks like you need to go to the courthouse. But it says within eleven days, and the date on this is Oct 19.”
“Agh! So today is day 12. Think that’ll matter?”
“I don’t know.”
“Think it’ll matter that I still don’t have a new driver’s license?”
“I don’t know.”
“Come on, you’re the attorney here. You really don’t know?”
“I really don’t know. But you need to go tomorrow.”

I was hoping Corbin could do something about my ticket - call someone or take it somewhere and make it just disappear. A couple of weeks ago I answered my cell phone driving through a school zone. Big no-no. The officer was merciful to fore go the automatic $200 fine, but instead issued me a ticket for an expired registration sticker. No kidding, the new sticker was paid for, sitting on my desk at home, waiting to be affixed to my front window.

So last Monday morning, citation and renewed registration in hand, I walked up the courthouse steps in hopes of getting my ticket dismissed. With $1.50 in the parking meter and the kids at lunch with Corbin I figured I’d bought myself an hour or so to take care of this annoying inconvenience.

Despite the crisp, sunny weather outside, the building’s dark, dank ambiance mirrored my spirits. After walking through a metal detector and waiting in line for the teller, I was summoned to courtroom five. Whoa. Turning the corner into the hallway, I joined the ranks of a mass of legal offenders. Searching for a kind face of someone who might speak English, I asked a lady where the line started and who I should give my paperwork to. She shrugged her shoulders and told me that the clerk would be by to get my papers at some point. I pricked my ears for any information and overheard comments like “three-hour-wait” and “been here since 9:30.” I couldn't make sense of the process and instead leaned against the tile wall and waited.

As my watch ticked by minutes. I contemplated how I would get back to add more change in my meter, and how Corbin would do with miniature shadows at work the rest of the afternoon. Was it worth the wait? How much would this ticket cost, anyway? Would this “process” devour more of my time with a driver’s safety course?

Glancing through the tiny rectangular window of an adjoining courtroom I saw my friend Kim, sitting as Judge on the bench, issuing verdicts to those who stood before her. Kim! If only she would look up and see me - maybe I’d be saved! But she never looked my way, and I was unfortunately assigned to the next court. I (barely) restrained myself from doing cartwheels and waving my arms frantically to get her attention.

At some point the clerk gathered my papers, and before too long I was summoned from waiting in the hallway to waiting in the actual courtroom. I felt the weight of disapproving onlookers as I left the throngs of listless hallway dwellers and entered the courtroom.
Following the clerk’s gestures to a bench, I sardined myself between two seated men, turned off my phone, crossed my arms, and waited. As a man pleaded with the Judge to revoke his warrant for arrest, to no avail, the young man on my right told me he’d been sitting there for two hours and had to catch a bus to Texarkana. The man on my left told me I should just leave and come again at 7:00 am the next day, as the courts open at 8:00. Another man in front of us asked the clerk if his name had been called, as he’d stepped out to use the restroom, and she part-laughed and part-huffed as she told him, “No chance.”

As person after person stood in front of the judge, arguing their tickets and violations, I dreaded my name being called. I was pretty sure I was the only blonde in the room, and quite sure the only one wearing a hot pink blazer. What was I thinking?! I stood out like a sore thumb, and I didn’t like it one bit. I slumped on the hard wooden bench, wondering what I would be asked and how the judge would respond to my delayed appearance. Beyond the inconvenience of throwing away these precious hours, I felt guilty. Guilty knowing that my real charge was worse than what I was actually charged with, guilty that I’d let too much time pass before taking care of this ticket, and guilty crammed among fifty or sixty others in the same position.

All of the sudden, the judge called out my name.
“Tonya Wilson?”
I kind of half-stood, not sure what to do, as I knew my name was no where near the top of her pile.
“Tonya Wilson - your ticket is dismissed, you may leave.”
A room full of strangers stared holes through me. I was one of the last to enter the room, and now one of the first to be leaving. I heard sighs from those across the aisle - not happy ones.
“That’s it? I don’t need to do anything else?”
“No,” the Judge said, “you’re free to go.”

So out I walked. Out into the crammed hallway, through the dim teller area, and down the marble courthouse steps. I squinted my eyes in the bright noon-time sun.

Free. Liberated. I was released, with no real explanation. I could have cried right there standing on the bustling sidewalk among lunch-hour suits. What just happened?

An unexplained pardon. It was such a picture to me of my debts being wiped clean - an undeserved gift. My entire wait was about half an hour, and I didn’t even have to go before the judge. My ticket was completely dismissed in mere minutes, while others waited hours. I was free to go. A humbling, startling picture that will go with me as I continue to appreciate the ultimate, real, eternal Grace.

Footnote: My friend Kim later explained that I was likely released because of the nature of my ticket - just one, and I’d given the clerk proof of my registration that had already been paid for. She never saw me through the window.

At least it's not J. Max

Sunlight filtered through our open car windows while a brisk breeze swooped crimson and golden leaves in merry-go-round circles on the asphalt. The day's brilliant conditions ushered in excitement for the emergence of Fall.
But all was not quite so sunny in our car as we sat parked in front of our church last Friday afternoon. We spoke with our pastor briefly as he informed my guitar-laden sons that Mark, their guitar teacher, was out of town.
Still, the sun shone and cars whizzed past and all seemed right with the world until the car doors slammed shut. Because at that moment, when I turned the ignition, shifted my suburban into gear, and headed out of the parking lot headed west instead of east, my oldest gasped, "Wait, we're going home, right?"
He made it to a crouched defensive position before I could say, "Well, the girls and I were going to run a couple of er -"
"Aghhhhhhhhhh! Errraaaannndddsss!"
Somehow this nearly ten-year-old giant of a boy managed to squish his five-foot frame into the floorboard of the front seat, twisting and turning and slithering, as if somehow his body language could push the inevitable errand-running into oblivion.
No chance.
You know, you hate to see your child struggling. I mean, so paralyzed that they're unable to form complete sentences... I put the car in park, turned sideways in my seat, and turned my full attention to the performance taking place in the adjacent seat.
Squirming, turning, twisting, with facial contortions and jagged contractions, Bran continued his display of distress with the upcoming errand-running.
"Wheeeerrrrree are we going? What errraaaannndddsss?!"
Well, first I have to go by Julie Nelson's -"
"Julie Neellllssonnn's!!!"
"Yes - Julie Neslon's - she hemmed Daddy's pants like five months ago and I need to pick them up. You don't even have to get out of the car, she has them hanging on her front door for me."
(Weakly) "Ok, Julie Neslson's. What else?"
After Julie's, we'll be right by the Plant Shed, and I need to get a couple of plants and pumpkins. It won't take long."
"Do you promise me we won't look at flowers? Do you PROMISE?"
(Laughing) "No, I don't promise, but I don't intend to look at flowers. And after that we might go to Ross. For you, for new boxers."
(Whispered) "Ross." Sigh.
Slumped in his seat having accepted defeat, Bran looked out of the corner of his eye at me and said, "Don't laugh at me."
"What? Why would I not laugh at you?! You are hilarious! This is one of the funniest things I've seen - and it's even a free show."
About that time the phone rang, Papa on the line. I passed the phone to Bran to talk to his Daddy's Daddy:
"Hey Pop. Yes, we're ok, except we're running ERRANDS. And we might have to go to Ross. But at least we don't have to go to J. Max..."

The Kitten and Ducks

(from Hudson) I wrote this story today:

One late afternoon a mother duck's eggs hatched and a kitten got mixed in with the baby ducks. When it was time for the baby ducks to eat their first piece of corn the kitten ate with then. After that, it was time for them to take ther first swim. After the ducks jumped in it was the kitten's turn. At first the kitten did not like this idea but he did it to stay with the ducks. While they were swimming the baby ducks and the kitten followed their mother duck across the pond. After they were across the pond ther was a garden and the kitten saw a garden mouse and chaced it and then the baby ducks wanted to chace it but the mouther duck said no.

Bragging... again

Check out my big brother, Trey... he's amazing! Can you tell I'm a little proud?!

James Listed Among Top 100 Most Influential in Accounting Industry
ALPHARETTA, GA, October 2009— Xcentric, LLC’s president and CEO Trey James was recently recognized as one of the Top 100 Most Influential People in the Accounting Industry by Accounting Today magazine, one of the leading news vehicles for the tax and accounting community.

Accounting Today highlights James’ contributions to the accounting industry, including Gray Matter, Xcentric’s fully hosted network solution, which allows firms to focus on their core competencies instead of on technology.

Candidates for this award were nominated by the Accounting Today readership, as well as by the magazine editors. The finalists were then selected based the editors’ judgment of the candidates’ impact on the profession over the past few years and in the immediate future, as well as on their knowledge of the profession as a whole.

“With their Gray Matter service, James and his company let more and more accountants focus on their work not their network, by hosting and deploying entire IT systems in the ‘cloud’”, as excerpted from Accounting Today magazine.

“I am honored to be chosen and thankful for the team at Xcentric that joins me in serving the accounting industry through technology specifically designed for CPAs, “ says Trey James, Xcentric president and CEO.

Six weeks in...

We're in week six of school, and I'm thankful to be here and not at week one. I feel like we're past the nervous anticipation of unfamiliar schedules and routines, and are slowly jelling with this new pattern of what learning looks like in our home.
Without question, the primary challenge has been attitudes and acceptance of our new roles and routines. More than a few days of our first month found one boy or the other in tears, in a fetal position on the carpet, crying that "we don't do it like that at school." The worst was when an "I can't" dissolved into "I just wish I were at school, I don't like homeschool!" - especially when it came just minutes after a proclamation that homeschooling was better than they expected. What drove me crazy was that when one boy faltered, the other's attitude remained upbeat and cooperative. Then the next day, without warning, they might switch. What in the world?!
But even the most frustrating episodes ended in contrite cooperation. This message scribbled on the dry erase board welcomed me one morning:

Enter Corbin with some positive reinforcement. Armed with bags of candy - good candy, expensive candy - he filled a glass jar and perched it on a shelf in the sunroom, a visible reward for good attitudes. Just one piece a day has been enough to get them in line.
Even more than the candy, though, time has smoothed out the wrinkles of unfamiliarity and anxiety. The boys know a little more what to expect, they are learning their new routines, and I think they are feeling some success in learning and even enjoying the new way we do it at home.

So enough about the kids, a few things that school at home has meant for me:
- Endearing me to my oldest. Branson caught on to the "pros" of homeschooling early on, and he has surprised me by jumping in with both feet. He wakes early and is a self-starter, and would have all of his work completed by 9:00 a.m. if I'd let him. I treasure his consistent up-beat attitude, his courage to jump in and try something new, and his amazing aptitude. (See all the pink post-it-notes on his folders - Bran scrawled "done" scrawled across each one to show me he'd completed his work... I think this photo was snapped before breakfast.)

- Laughing with my boys. We have laughed a lot - they are really funny! Bran is even funnier when he's trying not to be. Nothing beats genuine laughter with these boys.
- Having Bran and Hud to myself. The girls go to school three days a week, and Basden is LOVING her kindergarten class. I love that she's learning songs and poems and jingles - and not from me. I also love that she's getting a classroom experience with these sweet teachers and kiddos. Needless to say, Essie is happy as a lark to be with friends several days a week.


- Flexibility, flexibility, flexibility. We're staying up a bit later and sleeping a bit later. I still can't get over afternoons and evening with no homework (!!!). I feel like the pulse of our home is a little more relaxed than it's been in awhile - the sabbatical from school deadlines has been a tremendous gift.
- Tuesdays with the Alexanders. Our kids LOVE Tuesdays, can't wait for the weekly trek to Arlington to be with this sweet family and some other friends. Emily is amazing in opening her home, Moody is amazing with science experiments and teaching, and Senora Mary Lynn is adorable teaching Spanish. And best of all - hot pizzas delivered between classes. So thankful for our Tuesday lunches and learning!

So far, our weeks have been a gift. That's the way I've been trying to anticipate this school year - a treasure. My mind's eye envisions a rusty old treasure chest filled with shimmering gold and bright gems and sparkly things that I don't even know the value of. I don't know what our treasures will be, or when we'll uncover them, but I'm counting on the fact that the Lord has something beautiful in store for us. One day at a time, one day at a time, one day at a time...

Our New Adventure

That's how I feel about this year and teaching our kids at home - "a new adventure." A one-day-at-a-time, stay-in-the-moment kind of adventure.
The past couple of weeks have felt both natural and alien, easy and difficult, and comfortable and exhausting. The good news is that we're on week three and we're all surviving. Even with my roller-coaster summer, riding through all the shifting emotions that accompany a major change, at the end of the day (even a difficult day!) I'm glad to be doing this. I'm thankful for the time with Bran & Hud - learning them better, and learning what they really know. And then it surprises me that I'm surprised.

Tomorrow Daboo takes the wheel for a couple of days as I head to Round Top with my sweet friend Cathy. So excited - I've never been, and my rain boots are ready by the door for what I anticipate to be a rather muddy scavenger hunt down Texas highway 237.

I'm leaving the boys in great hands - an entire post could be dedicated to Mom's creativity and helpful assistance with teaching and simply ordering our days. I'm watching a master teacher - wholly invested in her students - laugh and engage in learning around the table in our sunroom with two endearing pupils.

A huge thanks to Daboo as I'm off to my own antique-filled history field trip. And hopefully next month won't be too difficult a lesson in finance when it comes time to pay the bills...

What I'm Loving About Our Week

Well, first of all, we're at Rosemary beach this week. Near Destin, just down 30A along the Emerald Coast, past Watercolor and Seaside, Rosemary Beach is just captivating. I've never been to this little gem of a community before, but I'm totally enchanted and already hoping that this might become "the place." You know, the place we might return to year after year to take in smells of salty air and feel the blonde, silt-like sand and bike through the narrow, winding streets to the Sugar Shak for ice cream and old-fashioned candy.
There's something a little magical about this place, this quaint Mediterranean-ish neighborhood nestled along the gorgeous white sands of the northern Florida coastline.

For those of you I haven't talked with this summer, who may be wondering why in the world we're at the beach this week instead of in school, we've decided to take a year off and homeschool this year (!), and so we're starting off with a bang. This week has been a gift. I've relished these airy, carefree days with my little family putting around this charming cottage and even more charming community with no responsibilities except to eat and play and swim.
So there you go. Can you tell it's already Thursday night of a week-long vacation? I'm determined to fully enjoy our last couple of days and remain in total denial about starting back to "life" next week at home. Our real home, that is, in Texas. Not our "new home" here in Rosemary, as Esther has deemed it.

What do I want to remember from this week?
- Our first moon-lit night on the beach. Our family's excitement and wonder spilling over, reminding Corbin and me after a not-so-fun thirteen-hour drive that we did indeed love our children and wanted to spend the week with them.
- Watching our kids be kids on the beach - sprinting into the foamy surf, bounding over white-capped waves, snorkeling close to shore, fishing from the sand bar... a gift to experience all this.
- Following Basden along the shoreline, my feet pressing into her still-chubby footprints that are too quickly becoming long and slender.
- Meeting little six-month-old Joy Taylor James. Born in April, we thought we might have to wait for Christmas! But both my brothers in Atlanta coordinated their beach week with ours, so we're getting some precious time with Marshall, Ashlyn and little Joy Taylor. Oh, and Chris and Crystal and Trey and Amy!
- Nighttime crabbing with Uncle Trey and Uncle Chris. Thank goodness for the gear guys and their turbo flashlights. (We would have freaked out had we seen all those crabs our first night with only the moon light - thousands of albino crabs scampering underneath our bare feet and we had no idea!)
- Our boys venturing "out to play" unattended. They can throw the football on the beach, start ahead of us to the pool, or bike to the grassy lawn and throw the baseball - WITHOUT us. These short spurts of time give them freedom to burn some energy while we're putting Esther down for a nap, reading one more chapter, or simply pulling things together for the next outing.
- On that liberating note, this is the first summer in a decade that we're taking trips with ALL big kids. Meaning, for the first time in ten years we brought no diapers, no pack-n-plays, and no strollers. And the only one that requires a nap now is Mommy.


The only thing - besides grandparents - we're missing on this trip is Luke and Julie! Although I'm half-way expecting them to show up any moment from Tulsa with Bogan and two-week-old Broderick Kaleb in their arms.

Will post again soon (hopefully) with more, but in the meantime, I'm loving our week at the beach and excited about the new school year. Be back soon...