Earlier this week I was interviewed by a potential client to collaborate with her on a new book. She asked a few questions about my writing and then she asked me about writing First Things First with Kurt and Brenda Warner.

I know what people are expecting. They’re expecting me to give them some dirty little secret about the Warners (I didn’t learn any) or some insider knowledge into Kurt’s job (Kurt never once discussed football strategy with me, not too surprising if you know me well), or maybe some really cool fan moment where I touched his Super Bowl ring (hard to get excited about that when his kids wear it for dress-up). So I shared with her the same two stories that I tell anyone who asks about my time with the Warners.

The first story about Jesse Jo, I blogged about yesterday. If you haven’t seen the video, go there now, I’ll wait.

But today I promised to share the second story. This is my single favorite memory from being at the Warner’s house. I think my answer surprised the client. It wasn’t what she expected me to say in the middle of an interview to write her book. But it is what it is, and it’s my favorite memory.

It was a late Sunday afternoon and it had been a busy day. The family had been to church and lunch followed by a photo shoot for the cover of the book. If you’ve ever had your picture taken in a professional shoot, think of all the craziness of that moment (eyes open, hair combed, clothes  tucked in) and then think what it’s like for the Warners to do that with seven kids! By the time the shoot was done, everyone was exhausted, me included!

When it was all over, Brenda sat at the kitchen table sorting through old photos for the inside of the book with my editor Carol Traver. The older kids had scattered to various rooms in the house and the younger ones were hanging out in the kitchen where I was trying to ask Kurt a few last questions before he left town. He literally had his bags in his hands but he was so generous with his time just to make sure I had everything I needed before he left to catch his flight as we weren’t sure whether or not I’d still be there when he got back.

Sierra, (pictured above) the youngest of the Warners three-year-old twin daughters, had missed her nap because of the shoot and wanted me to hold her. So I picked her up and bounced her on my hip while I juggled my notepad, recorder, and Kurt’s answers to my questions. While Kurt and I finished the conversation, Sierra fell asleep with her head on my shoulder.

After Kurt left, I sat down in a stuffed chair in their kitchen and just held that beautiful sleeping girl as the activity of the house went on around us. Soon Sienna, her older twin sister saw us and came over. She held out her arms and I half lifted and she half climbed into my lap and put her head on my other shoulder. She fell asleep, too.

While there are lots of perks to my job, I have to say sitting in that kitchen with those two precious girls asleep on my chest was one of my all-time highs. I know its not what most people want to hear. It has nothing to do with the story I was writing. It has nothing to do with celebrity, status, or sports. And yet it has everything to do with all of that.

The story was about Kurt and Brenda as parents. And parents know that moments like this are replicated thousands of times, in millions of homes around the world. And that’s what is so precious about that moment – - it’s fleeting. You can’t capture it and repeat it at will. It only happens when it happens and then it’s gone.  My son is now almost 15 and I can barely ruffle his hair while he’s sleeping without him getting irritated that I am touching him too much, but I still remember what it was like to hold him as a baby his warm little head snuggled under my chin.

If you have children in your life who still love to fall asleep in your arms, cherish those moments because I promise you they won’t last long. But the good news is that if you take the time to do it now, the memories of those moments will last, just like mine from that day in the Warner’s kitchen.

What’s your favorite child-sleeping story?

~Jennifer

For most moms, sending their child off to kindergarten is a very emotional experience. I once spoke at a church on the first day of school. Each of the moms in the room had sent their first, last, or only child off to kindergarten. It didn’t matter what I said that day, most of the moms couldn’t hear me over their own sniffles. I remember sending my son off to kindergarten, I didn’t cry but I did feel a little lost without him around all day.

What I remember most from that day were the things Jordan said and did. Like when he came home from school and told me that he knew the name of one of the boys in his class.

“Really? What’s his name?”

“Maverick.”

“Is Maverick your friend?”

“No,” he said. “I just know his name because the teacher kept saying, ‘Maverick sit down.’ ‘Maverick be quiet.’ ‘Maverick get in line.’”

My other favorite memory from that day was asking Jordan, “Do you want me to come up to school and have lunch with you one day?” This was always a big deal for the other kids in our neighborhood. They loved it when their moms came up for lunch.

For my son? Not so much. ”Maybe you can come up on the last day,” he said.

At the time, I had mixed feelings. On one hand, I was happy he was so confident in his new environment, on the other hand, I was a bit disappointed that he didn’t want me there. We laugh about it now. In hindsight, it’s easy to see that kindergarten was the beginning of his independence.

Which reminds me of that little poem by Robert Fulghum, All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarden. So much of what Jordan learned that year was the beginning of what he was yet to learn.

The same was true of my kindergarten experiences. I learned some valuable lessons in kindergarten that weren’t taught anywhere else. For example, when the teacher played a chord on the piano I learned that it’s time to stop talking. These days kids don’t have pianos in the classroom, (which explains why many of them don’t know when to stop talking).

I also learned that when Craig B. played house with the girls during centers that was cool, but when Craig B. stuck his hand down my tights during story time, that wasn’t cool. It seems Craig B. learned a few things in kindergarten, too.

I’m sure you have kindergarten memories of things you or your child learned. But what if kindergarten were more than just a first educational and social experience? What if kindergarten was the only place you got a healthy meal, proper hygiene, and an introduction to faith?

That’s what kindergarten in the Hoang Then village of Vietnam means.  If you haven’t been following what’s happening on Jon Acuff’s blog Stuff Christians Like, you need to check it out. (You can get some background on the project quickly by reading an interview with Jon here.)

At Jon’s blog you can begin reading the posts in chronological order, (skip down to November 9, that’s the day this all started with the first post  here. Then read backwards in chronological order to find out how much they raised the first day here, and how much they raised in the first 18 hours here, and the announcement of the second kindergarten here. That’s the one we’re currently raising money for.)

This all started when Jon’s kindergarten-aged daughter saw a picture of a starving child in a book and said, “That’s not real is it, Daddy?”  Jon is using his blog community to do what he can to make sure that in the future the answer is “No honey, it’s not.”

Blog readers have been helping out by giving $5 or $10. Jon’s got a crazy contest going on with a cartoon worship leader and each time a new goal is met the worship leader gets new clothes, ’cause frankly the only thing worse than a worship leader in skinny jeans is a naked worship leader.

Go here to donate.

You can leave a comment on the site. I gave in honor of Jon’s wife, Jenny Acuff, who made some really delicious peach cobbler a few months ago and I can still taste it. Maybe Craig B. will donate in atonement for his kindergarten philandering. Perhaps you want to donate in honor of your kindergarten teacher. Because the only thing worse than not having kindergarten memories is not having a kindergarten.

What’s the one kindergarten memory you haven’t forgotten?

~Jennifer