Parenting

Change Ahead

If there’s one constant in life it’s that it’s always changing. Sometimes I handle them well and just roll with the punches and other times the changes punch me. In the gut. Hard.

change ahead

 

This past Halloween I got gut punched.

For about the last 10 years our same group of moms and kids have traveled together in a Trick or Treating pack. We looked forward to it every year. We’ve transitioned together from having  babies we could costume adorably to toddlers who lost most of their costumes in their travels. We watched our children grow into grade schoolers and go through their obsessions with dressing as the super hero du jour. We shared sarcastic jokes and life happenings. We talked about relationships, and teachers we loved and hated, and what we hoped for and feared for our childrens’ futures. (women talk A Lot!) Those Halloween nights are some of my fondest memories.

Now that my two oldest boys are 27 and 18 I have one candy collector left- my 12 year old, Nicholas.

About two weeks before Halloween Nicholas, asked if he could go trick or treat with his new middle school best friend.  I sort of mumbled something non committal and hoped he’d forget the request and that we’d follow tradition with our band of merry men as per usual. But deep down, I knew it wasn’t over.

48 hours to go before Halloween and the request was made again. As sad as I was that our usual group wouldn’t be together we went to his new friends house. The new friend is a great kid and his parents couldn’t have been nicer or more hospitable.”This could be good “,I thought- “I can learn to hang out with different people”. Then the parents said, ‘the boys know when to check in so we’ll bring him home when they’re done.” Um,,,,what??! That was the beginning. (The arm  pulled back ready for the blow.).. But, ok, I thought, that’s fine, I’ll just walk around with them myself. I made it for about for about 3 houses and it just wasn’t the same. It felt miserable and lonely. I felt more like a stalker than a parent.  There went Nicholas, having a blast ,running with his friends dressed in silly costumes consuming vast amounts of sugar. He didn’t need me there anymore.

Annndddd…. Gut punch!!!

snake

I knew it was coming. I . Knew. It. He’s my third child and I’ve been through all of this many times before in many different ways. But you know what? You never fully get used to it.

I’ve done what I’m supposed to do which is raise my sons to be independent and Not need me for everything. (my husband is currently rolling his eyes as he reads this) 😉

rolling eyes

That’s what I kept telling myself as I drove home sobbing. Now please don’t read this and think that I’m some sort of super clingy mom who is so needy that I hinder my boys from having new experiences- I’m not that at all. I have always encouraged them to try Everything that interests them. Try the sport. Audition for the solo. Give the speech. Taste the new food. For the love….PLEASE try the new food!

I wanted to deny my sadness as being silly and and indulgent but you know what? I mean, it’s just a silly Halloween tradition. It’s not like he just moved out! Your moment might be something entirely different and you’ll be tempted to ignore it and push it aside. But you know what...It’s not silly and it’s not nothing.     Transition is hard. Throughout all of our lives we have to change . Marriage; babies; graduations; puberty; jobs; pregnancy; moving; ageing; it’s all change all the time. With every one of those changes there is joy and there is also some pain. I mean really-pregnancy? C’mon!

In the excitement for the new thing there is always a tinge of sadness for the passing of the old and a little bit of apprehension of what’s to come. So I think I’ll give myself some grace. I’ll let myself be sad and miss the little boy  at the same time I’m thrilled to watch Nicholas grow into a young man. He and my other sons may not need me in the same ways, but they still need me and I’ll be there for when they do.

Right now Nicholas needs me to eat all of the Almond Joys that he hates. So that’s something…. 🙂

Isaiah 43:19 “Be alert and present! I’m about to do something new! Do you see it?”

If you want a great laugh, take a look at this short video of Halloween night and the blow up dinosaur costume. It’s been a hit on Facebook!!

Jesus and the Phone Charger

As Easter approaches my 10yr old son and I have had some interesting discussions about Jesus. He is a quick thinking, no nonsense type of child who appreciates a no nonsense, ‘real world application’ answer.Luckily, I happen to be fairly gifted in the area of metaphors.
His most recent question was this, ” What do we need Jesus for if we already have God?” “Well”, I answered, we needed someone to reconcile us with God; to take our sins away so that….” Looking at the blank stare on his face my sentence trailed off unfinished. I’m pretty sure I lost him somewhere around ‘reconcile’. Eager to capture this teachable moment I quickly rifled through my rolodex of Sunday school explanations. Spying my phone I had my lightbulb moment!
“Okay, pretend the cell phone is us and the wall plug is God. You know how you have to have a cord to get from the phone to the wall so that you can charge it? The cord is Jesus. In order for us to be connected with God, we needed a charger. Now, imagine that the phone has a glitch in it, but the Jesus charger takes all the glitches away so that it can absorb the power in the wall. At this point there is a light coming into my son’s eyes and he’s no longer playing with the remote. Ha! I’ve got him! So I continue.
“And you know how when we buy the cheap imitation chargers they break easily and take For Ev Er to charge the phone? But the original charger works every time and never fails? The cheap imitation chargers are like all the things in life that people chase instead of Jesus. Money, fame, false religions, girlfriends, cars…those are the imitation chargers and Jesus is the original. The imitations work ok for a while, but their power runs out pretty quickly and they can’t fix the glitches. In fact , sometimes they add more glitches because they weren’t meant for the phones in the first place. The original Jesus charger never lets us down, fixes the bugs and keeps us connected to the original power source; God.Does that make more sense?”Mentally I am now high fiving myself for this moment of parental brilliance amazed I could come up with something so simple yet so deep at 8pm after my glass of Sav Blanc.
Son,” Cool. Can I have a snack?”
And this, my friends, is what keeps me humble.

Everything I Know about Fighting I Learned from my Son

If you fell down yesterday stand up todayIf you met me today, you would say that I was a fighter. A strong woman who won’t take sass from anyone. Such was not always the case. I suppose I have always been competitive. In fact, I’m Sure I’ve always been competitive both with myself and others. We may be friends, but if you play a card game with me the gloves come off! 😉 Fighting however is a different matter altogether.  Being sexually abused stunted my growth in so many ways.I didn’t get the chance to learn to fight small skirmishes and build my stamina over the years. I lost the first battle. A huge battle. And the scars went to the core. Instead of coming out of it with my fists raised to the sky I learned to contract into myself. Curl into a little roly poly until the danger passes. If fighting and losing was going to hurt that badly then why do it at all.

Then I had my son. There’s something about holding a tiny defenseless baby that smells like heaven.Instinct and love tell you that you must do whatever it takes to protect this child. That’s what ‘good’ parents do, right? What if you don’t know how to fight? What if the idea of it grips you with terror? If my son asked me how I learned to fight, I’d tell him this:

From the time I was pregnant I fought the nausea, the weight gain, the labor pains. When they let me take you home, I fought the panic that I had no idea what I was doing.

I warred against insecurity, ignorance, and impatience.

Croup, ear infections,and teething became my world and I fought for sleep.I wrestled to comfort you, quiet you, soothe you to no avail.In the morning I went to work and fought to stay awake.

I fought to maintain your home in the face of my divorce and when your father threatened to abduct you, I fought to hide you and keep you safe in my arms.

As a single mom I struggled to support us, to find time with you between jobs, to make sure you felt loved and not left.

School was hard for you and I campaigned for your education, to understand you, to support you.

They diagnosed you soon with ADD and then with Bipolar disorder and I rose up against dread. I battled to get appointments, good doctors, the right medications. I pushed against their assumptions of your bleak future and counter argued with hope.I devoured every piece of information on mental illness and armed myself with knowledge.

As you slept at night and I sat by your bed and cried. I fought the fear that I could never be worthy of being the parent you needed. I cried out to God for the strength to be your champion.

I waged war with  broken school systems and burned out teachers. I stood strong during IEP meetings and counseling sessions. I became the parent who wouldn’t take back down because of bureaucracy.

I fought bad influences and bullies. Internet filth and video game overload.

In the most challenging combat I put myself as a barrier between you and your stepfather’s cruelty. Some battles I won, but too many were lost.  Paralyzing fear attempted to keep me down but with each encounter I slowly learned to stand for us.

I endeavored  to discipline you, teach you , love you, protect you. Sometimes; many times; from yourself.

I fought my own demons and dark.

I went to war on my knees in fervent prayer. Over and over and over.

I fought against you. You fought against me. And sometimes, we fought together.

When you became my prodigal son I fought to teach you responsibility, accountability, consequences. I fought to be a good parent (whatever that is)

You pulled away and I fought to be part of your world, to let you go without losing you, to accept your differences, and to make you know that my love was eternal.

Fighting for you gave me strength. Praying for you deepened my faith. With every blow I landed for you another one of my own demons went down and I found my armor, piece by piece. My son, I know I gave you life, but you gave me back mine.

affliction