All By Myself

This was to be a week alone for me. Hillary was off to Girls State, and Yancey and Parker went to church camp. And, as they love me dearly, they were a little concerned. It seemed to dawn on Hillary the day before she left that I would be at home all day, every day for a week, all by myself. She looked at me with wide eyes and said in a breathy voice..."What will you DO?"
My answer..."Whatever I want!"
But she was still worried. "Sounds lonely to me," she said.
Never fear, I had plans.
My dreams were filled with lazy days in the hammock, cold drink and a good book in hand...no worries hanging over my head with the laundry caught up and the house cleaned.
And then I woke up.
Here are a few of the things I actually did this week:
Handled small crisis with daughter via text in middle of the night.
Handled small crisis with husband via text in the middle of the night.
Called bug people to come spray house for spiders who suddenly seemed to be everywhere.
Drove un-air conditioned car an hour away to the city for repair...waited for the shop to give me the loaner car which they had somehow misplaced...sat in Enterprise Rent-a-car lobby for an hour while they tried to find a car for me...(this all counts as one thing, right?).
Got my hair cut and colored.
Cleaned two bathrooms, one kitchen cabinet, and one closet.
Untangled a mistake with my employer and bank when (through no fault of my own) my paycheck was accidentally withdrawn from my account instead of deposited making me appear overdrawn.
Drove back to the city, picked up my own car, and flew back in time for bible study.
Cleaned up dog poop 3 different times.

Oh, and in the meantime, I managed to host a parenting group at my house, read one good book, and have lunch with a friend.

Don't worry, Hillary. There was no time to be lonely.

My family starts to trickle home today. I am looking forward to seeing them. As busy as I was having FUN, I still missed them.
After all, alone time is overrated!

With a Twist

Recently we spent a "Six Flags Day" with some loved family members. I have to admit, I was not looking very forward to it. Theme parks are hot, noisy, and suck money right out of your pocket when you aren't looking. Not to mention that Parker has always hated roller coasters and ends up spending the day sitting and holding our bags while I have to ride with Hillary on every neck popping, hair raising ride they have.
But not this year.
This year he decided for himself that he was going to "conquer his fear" and ride the roller coasters. We started off nice and easy with the Screaming Eagle. He and I climbed into the seats and pulled the bar down snugly. He gave a nervous smile...and off we went. I screamed...he grunted. I held onto my head with both hands so it wouldn't get whipped off in the turns...he laughed. Before I knew it, he was whooping and throwing his hands up in the air, enjoying the ride of his life! And that's all it took. Now I had the priviledge of sitting and holding the bags while Hillary and Parker ran from ride to ride, laughing and gesturing and exclaiming to one another.
I couldn't help thinking back to when he was younger and we (being the wise parents we are) tried to force him to face his fears. We made him ride a water slide ride that all of us could do together. We promised him it would be fun. We tried to convince him it would be fine. We finally forced him...and it was neither fun nor fine. At the top of the slide he buried his head in my side. As we began the descent, he started to scream and cry. I spent the whole 5 seconds the ride lasted praying for God to not let this scar my child and feeling sorry that I'd betrayed Parker's sensitive feelings. Why was it so important to us that he ride scary things? How would it matter if he went his whole life being the person who was scared of roller coasters? It didn't seem to matter to him if he was teased by his sister and his friends about being afraid. He would rather be true to himself than pretend he was having fun when he was not. Isn't that a good quality in itself?
But now, here he was, inches taller, pounds heavier, years older...riding those same scary rides with screams of joy instead of terror. And the only REAL difference was he had decided to do it for himself. Our poking and prodding never changed a thing. When he was ready, he did it.
Just one more up in a series of ups and downs...one more twist in this roller coaster that is parenting.

Trial Flight 101

My daughter is a senior. Sigh. I'm thinkin all those thoughts about time running short and where and what she'll be when she "grows up". My little bird will soon fly the nest.

So what better way to stretch her wings than a trip to Washington DC with an educational group and responsible adult chaperones...but no one that she actually knows. Months ago she wrote an essay and was chosen by the Crawford County Electric CoOp to participate in this trip of a lifetime. I helped her pack her bags, double checked her itinerary, asked her a million times if she had her phone...and then handed her over to people I'd never met and watched her drive away.

I could still see the van's taillights when I texted her..."You having fun yet? ha." And of course she was. Everyone was "really fun" and everything was "amazing." And then I promised myself no more texts...let her enjoy herself and have her own time.

The next day they boarded a plane for Baltimore. Her first time on an airplane. I was anxious. I was jealous. I was proud and excited. Would she love flying as much as I do? Would she get sick? What if she did? Who would hold her puke bag and rub her back?

And then I got this text, "We're in baltimore!:) (the "good morning baltimore" song from hairspray comes to mind) and i LOVE flying! I got a window seat (i have such good friends);) wish you were here!"

Through the miracle of texting, we watched her as she joyfully flew through the week...seeing monuments...meeting new people...and dancing the night away on a Potomac cruise. I didn't have to contact her, she was happy to contact us...sharing her experiences with unfettered enthusiasm and not seeming in the least "caged."

I stood at my window this morning (the day Hillary comes home) and watched the little wren and her family who have built a nest in our eaves. All spring she has been bringing bugs and worms in and taking waste and old feathers out while she waits for her babies to be ready to fly. And now, they are all outside of the nest...hanging on to the wooden post and porch screen with their tiny clawed feet...Mama Wren chirping encouragement. And with a flash of feathers and an awkward zig-zaggy arc they make it safely to the ground where they will hop around and make little trial flights until they are flitting about as effortlessly as their mama. I know how you feel, Mama Wren.

Fly, little bird...fly! But know that you'll always have a feather in my nest.

What Teen Boys Are Made Of...

Long, long legs

and

empty cereal bags...

At least that's what mine is made of!

Same Difference

Parker walked into the living room, swinging an almost empty bread sack, and asking, "Mom, do you want me to save this or just throw it away?"
"Why would you throw it away?"
"Cause all that's left is the feet." he replied with a totally straight face.
Hillary cracked up. Of course he meant the "heels" but when this was pointed out to him he said, "Feet...heels...same difference."
The night before, we had been working on a crossword puzzle as a group, shouting out clues and twisting the paper this way and that so we could take turns seeing the squares. Parker was making tea in the kitchen. Someone shouted out a clue and Parker guessed "can?"..."No, it ends with an 'e'" was the reply. Parker shrugged and said, "Same difference."
Again, laughter, because obviously, it is NOT the same difference. But to Parker's dyslexic brain, it is. What I love about him is that he seems to enjoy the humor we get out of his verbal snafoos. He doesn't seem to see it as a flaw in himself, but as a funny acceptable part of who he is. As a chronic worrier about my children's feelings, I tend to try to hold it in when he makes funny word mistakes...and then I scrutinize his face for clues that the others are hurting his feelings. But he just smiles and gets this look like, "Yeah, I make people laugh. What can YOU do?"
Dyslexic...genius...Parker...
Same difference to me.

between The Rock and a Smiley Face

I am thankful for affectionate children. They both give me lots of hugs, touches, and full-body-contact attention. They are like two puppies with a favorite chew toy. All it takes for one of them to notice me and suddenly want to be by me, is for the OTHER one to be by me.
Like today, when I was lying in the big chair, trying to be still enough to ward off my womanly "time of the month-ness" and Hillary came to lie beside me - plastered to me from toes to neck (which is as far as I can stretch on her) and lay her head on top of my head. Sure enough, it wasn't two seconds til Parker appeared. Hillary had (wrongly) assumed that since my other side was against the chair arm, she would have me to herself. But, ever the problem-solver, Parker just lay ON TOP OF MY BODY. And when Hillary had to get up to get her calendar so we could have family meeting, Parker quickly slid into her spot...even as she was saying, "Do NOT get my spot, Parker!".
A couple of days ago, the three of us went into the city. Hubby was working, my car was in the shop, and I don't drive a stick shift. So it fell to Hillary (who was forced by Dad to learn to drive on a stick shift) to chauffer me to the car place. And Parker just came along for the ride.
There we sat, literally shoulder to shoulder, on the small bench seat...air conditioning on high (which means the windows were all the way down) and itunes tooting at full volume. Things were fine for at least 5 miles. Then it began.
Parker - Can I find this one song on your ipod?
Hillary - No.
P - I just want to hear one song.
H- What song?
P - You'll see.
H- Why can't you tell me?
P - You'll like it.
H- Then tell me.
P - I promise you'll like it.
H- Why won't you just tell me?
P- Cause I want it to be a surprise.
H- Well, at least wait til this song is over.
Not an argument to draw blood but annoying just the same. Fifty seven similar verbal exchanges later...we were in the city, stopping and going from stoplight to stoplight while Hillary complained about the pain in her leg from holding down the clutch and Parker gave tips on how she should drive. This prompted more exasperated sighs and eye-rolling. And there I was...(sing with me now) "stuck in the middle with two..."
But there's really no place else I'd rather be. I know it won't last, so I'll enjoy the touch while I can. And someday, I may be living between them as they start their own testy, touchy families on opposite coasts. And I'll remember waking up in the middle of the night with Parker breathing into my left ear and Hillary snuggled into my right, and I'll just smile...and stretch...in all my empty space.

Community Service

When the youth pastor at church recently announced that he was coordinating a "missions week" in our own town (using the church as a home base for service projects), I thought, "What a good idea. I'll bet Hillary will want to help."
It never occured to me that Parker would be interested. He has always been most comfortable at home...especially at bedtime! Through the years, his friends have tried valiantly to get him to spend the night at their houses. And he did give it an honest shot...making it until midnight or so before showing up on our doorstep, pillow in hand.
So I was surprised when Parker said, "Mom, when does that mission trip start? I want to do it."
He packed a few things and off he went.
And he was a natural...cutting trees and stacking brush, helping to build a well-house, and mowing an older person's yard. Things he loves to do.
But by Wednesday, sleeping on the gym floor was getting old, and when I saw him at church he said, "I'm coming home with you."
Later I asked him what he liked best about being part of the missions week. He said, "I just liked helping the people. One lady called and said how much it meant to her for us to help her out. And I just liked doing those things."
When did that scared little boy become a servant young man?
Then, later that night, I woke to find him lying between his dad and me. I guess we have a few years yet!