Good Times, Best Years

I recently overheard a group of women talking about how hectic their lives are. How they are so busy with their babies and preschoolers that they can't even go to the bathroom alone.  An older grandmother sighed, "Yes, but they are the best years of your life."

I wanted to shout, "Don't say that!"

Lord knows I remember those days.  Sleepless nights, early mornings, ear infections, diapers, preschool field trips, Barbie dolls and motorcycles littering the floor, finding quality daycare, PAYING for quality daycare, t-ball games, sunday school, reading books and watching cartoons.  And they WERE good days.  Baby bath perfume and snuggles, tickle-fests, birthday parties, and complete control over where they went and who they were with. 

But to think that those are the best years and it's all downhill from there is a little sad.  

With each new stage, my children brought me good things and bad.  Challenges and new ways to have fun.  Learned new things themselves and taught me new things about myself.  

Even the dreaded "teenage" years have brought us joy and laughter along with bouts of emotional angst.

And now my children are launching into their own lives and I suddenly have more time to pursue hobbies that used to be only a dream.  Hubby and I have big chunks of time to go on mini-dates or attend a bible study together or just sit and watch tv (and watch what WE want to watch!).  I use the bathroom alone.

So if you asked me to pick the best years of my life, I would have to say...ALL of them!

They have not all been easy.

But they have all been good.

The Last One

As we pulled into the garage, Hubby said, "I need to mow this yard tomorrow."
We got out and walked toward the door.  Hubby stopped to pick up the gas can to make sure he had enough for the mower.
But the can was empty!
Hubby just shook his head, snorted a little like a bull about to charge, and said, "That kid!"
Apparently Parker had run out of his allotted gas money for the month.  Being the resourceful kid we have raised him to be, he raided the lawn mower gas.
I couldn't help laughing.
Through the years, Hubby has lost tools one by one, had his dolly cart robbed of it's wheels, opened the match box to start the grill only to find it empty of matches, and had his favorite snacks devoured while he slept.  Just the other day, I sent Hubby to the store for some chicken breasts and he came back with two bags of Chips Ahoy.  One of them was some new concoction with peanut butter cup chips.  Hubby LOVES peanut butter.   I'm sure he wanted to dig into them right then and there, but like a good grown up, he waited til after supper. We ate and then had to go to bible study.  Hubby shoved a few cookies in his mouth before we left.  When we got home both cookie packages were missing.  Seeing the steam start to come out of  Hubby's ears I sent Parker a quick text. "Please tell me the cookies are not all gone!"
"There are some regular ones down here" he texted from the basement den.  "But the peanut butter ones are gone.  And I didn't eat them all, I swear."  Having a friend who practically lives at our house comes in handy sometimes...
As I tried to console my peanut butter-deprived man, he pointed out to me that the kids NEVER take my last bit of snacks.  I pointed out that I eat healthy stuff that the kids wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole.  Then I remembered that they have both saved the last can of Coke for me on various occasions.  Hubby believes this is due to their great fear of me.  I choose to believe it's their great love for me.
Either way, it will all be over soon.  Today, we went to watch Parker march in a band competition.  We started going to this competition 6 years ago when Hillary began Varsity Band.  And as we walked up the sidewalk, I said, "Well, this is the last time we will do this."
Kids grow up and eventually have little ones of their own who will steal their cookies, lawn mower gas, and hearts.  And Hubby and I will remain, with full cookie bags and gas cans, and an empty house.  So I will laugh and enjoy Parker.  He is my Last One.

Not My Cup of Tea

Last weekend we traveled to a family reunion.  And, in a way, it was a mini-family reunion for us and our kids as well.  Not only did Hillary and Parker go with us, but they brought along their boyfriend and girlfriend.  I borrowed my dad's minivan and we packed it full of people and pillows, bags and boxes.  We drove into the sunrise with high spirits and McDonald's breakfasts.  We played the "cd game" where we took turns picking numbers (one for a cd, and the other for the track on that cd).  It was fun.  For a while.
Thirteen hours later, (after more food, a wedding, more food, visiting, and more food) we finally made it to the place we were staying.  I did what I always do...I made coffee.
My children are not coffee drinkers, so I only made a few cups.  I came down the stairs with my steamy mug and Parker's girlfriend said, "You made coffee?"
"Yep" I replied.
"Oooh..I want some!"
"Me too!" piped Hillary's boyfriend.
And that was the moment I knew...
My children had picked well.
Throughout the years I have been careful to not give my opinion away when it comes to my children's "significant others".  I learned early that the quickest way to get them to ditch a good one or hold on to a bad one was for a Parental Figure to voice a comment.  Besides, I am not the one who needs to like the person.  As long as my child likes them and they treat my babies well, I will be happy.
But drinking coffee is a definite plus.
Fortunately, both my children are currently in relationships with people who blend well with the family, have personality, seem to like my kids back, and are good looking to boot! They seem to be just my kids' cup of tea.
And my cup of coffee.