Desired Outcomes

I recently participated in a Parent Survey which asked the questions, "What makes a parent successful?" and "What is your desired outcome for your kids?"  My answer was that a parent is successful if they KNOW their children, and that what I hope my kids become is the most THEMSELVES they can be.  I want them to be grown-ups that know who they are, pursue their dreams with gusto, fail and fall...but know how to get back up and learn from experience.  I want them to be people who like who God made them...and who are liked by others.  

So when my sister-in-law said this...my heart smiled.

"I just have to tell you what great kids you have.  I mean, really...they are just good to be around."

And she should know after having spent several hours in a car with the both of them.  

I think she meant...they know how to talk with adults.

I think she meant...they are smart and funny.

I think she meant...they each have quirks and they know it but they don't seem to mind.

So as I watched them being THEM throughout the wedding weekend...

Proudly escorting the moms of the bride and groom...

Hunting with my brother and making him laugh...

Sitting with girls in church on Sunday and acting "cool"...

Taking a huge responsibility like saving memories and turning it into something creative and unique...

Sitting with the grown-ups in a smoke-filled room and getting the jokes...

Finishing a college assignment by taking pictures of mom and dad in a cotton field...

I smiled and thought about "desired outcomes".

And knew that what they are is what I hoped they would be.  

And whatever else they become is exactly what I hope they will be. 

Exposing the Truth

I was sitting at the kitchen table, chatting with my brother and sister-in-law, telling the story of how I went to the Pleasure Zone (the closest "adult" store) to find a lingerie shower gift.  How I had never been there...how I had to show my ID just to get in the door...how there were many interesting and educational things on display...how after 34 years of living and birthing two babies I still didn't know what the plastic mold of two feet were for...when Parker piped up, "So THAT'S where you were."

I paused.

Of course he was sitting with us, drinking in our laughter and storytelling, because that's how we do it at our house.  

"What are you talking about," I asked.

"Well, when Hillary picked us up from school on Friday (meaning him and his two female friends), I asked where you were and she said you were at the Pleasure Zone."

WHAT?

Hillary told two random 14 year old girls that Parker's mom couldn't pick them up from school because she was visiting the Pleasure Zone?!?

There goes my reputation.

I couldn't help it.  I burst out laughing.  

After all, it was the truth.

And I've always told my kids the truth.  

See, I believe that kids can handle it.  From a pretty young age, kids know what's going on...even if they may not know how to express it.  They know when Mom's stressed and they know when Parents love each other.  They know when you're lying and when you're telling the Truth. They see it if you profess one things to your friends and then live out something different.  So I've let them know me, warts and all.  And they return the favor.

And it works for us.

And that's the Truth.

Grown Up

As I was sitting downstairs, enjoying some rerun on tv, Parker texted me from the far away reaches of...his bedroom.
"What are we doing Friday?"
I thought for a moment, checked my handy phone calendar, and replied, "Nothing that I know of."
He went on to explain that he had been invited to a girl's house to watch movies.  Wanting to save me time and trouble he figured he could go home with her from school and then Hillary could pick him up later.  How sweet of him to keep me completely out of it.
I know the family and I know that this may be his first "hang-out date" but it won't be his last and I know how much he wants this...so I say it sounds fine to me.
And the next day, I email the other mom.
And discover that there will be two girls and my son alone at their house watching a movie while this mom and dad are down the street having dinner with friends.  She said it should be fine bc they are all "good kids".
My heart sank.
Parker is a low-key guy.  He doesn't ask for much and he doesn't get excited about much.  But I knew he REALLY wanted this.  He is a good kid.  And I REALLY wanted him to have friends and fun.  Some part of me didn't want to disappoint him.  For a split second, I actually considered it.
But then the bigger part of me...the part that is the Grown Up...the part that is the Good Mom...spoke up.  And I knew I had to say no.
Later that night, I talked it over with Hubby, and then called Parker into the kitchen.
"I need to tell you something.  You know your plans for Friday night...?"
"-are gonna work!" he interrupted hopefully.
"There isn't gonna be a grown-up there."  I said.
His face fell.  But he just groaned and said, "Ok."  Then he went back downstairs to watch tv.  He didn't like it, but he understood it and wasn't going to fight it.  That's the kind of kid he is.
I was thinking, "This SUCKS!"
And then Dad saved the day.
"Hey," he said suddenly.  "Why don't the girls just come over here?  We will be home and they can watch the movie here until the other parents get home."
We floated the idea by Parker and he happily agreed.
And that is how we came to have two giggly girls and two only-recently-macho boys (of COURSE the neighbor boy came over!) in our basement on a Friday night...eating my homemade pizza and looking up music videos on the computer and hoola hooping on the wii.  Having all kinds of teenage fun.  Because they aren't Grown Up yet, and they shouldn't have to be.  I want them to have the fun they ARE ready for without the responsibility they AREN'T ready for.
So I will continue to make sure my son gets to be the kid he is.
And I will be the Grown Up.

Dance

So I thought Hillary was laid back about dances.  But I swear her brother makes her look like a diva by comparison.
He talked about Homecoming all week...the pep assemblies...the spirit days...the moves the band would do at Friday's game...but nary a word about the Dance.  A co-worker who has a son the same age asked me if Parker was going.  I replied that I had no idea.
And then, on the way to the Football game that night, Parker (who had to be there early) called Hillary on her cell phone.  He wondered if we had already left the house.  He needed us to bring him some clothes for the dance.  Which would start in 3 hours immediately following the game.  Total afterthought.  No big deal.
So after the halftime show (at which the band totally ROCKED, by the way) we followed him into the band room as he stripped off his outer uniform.
Me - "So what clothes, exactly, do you want?"
Parker - looking at Hillary - shrugging - "You just pick me out something."
Are you serious???
The two of them finally decided on the perfect outfit and Hillary made him promise to dance with a girl.
Then she and I ran home and gathered the goods.  We got back just as the game was ending and handed the mess of clothes and shoes to Parker.  He went off to change and (I found out later) walk into the dance through the back band door because he hadn't even bought a ticket.  Talk about playing it  loose!
But he came home with a smile on his face and stories to tell.  His first high school dance now just a fresh memory.
And I am reminded one more time that life doesn't have to be planned out ahead of time.  And it's ok to let your friends and your sister help you out.  Because it's not about what you wear.  You still get to DANCE!