NO MORE BULLYING!

I don't always expect my children to be popular, but I certainly hope they will have a friend or two.  My son thought he had one -just one.  Last night that friend joined two other kids and pelted my child with rocks and sticks.  When my child told them to stop, they held him and stuffed his shirt with leaves.  When he tried to run away, they threw basketballs, and soccer balls, and even a baseball at his head.  When his face turned red from the effort of holding back tears, they told him he was a wus. 

Thank God for cell phones.  "Come get me.  Now!" 

My child needs a real friend.  His dad and I need wisdom so that we don't exacerbate the situation. 

Cheap Labor

Thinking the yard looked a bit untamed, I gave the boys pruning shears and set them loose on the landscaping.  They worked hard enough to fill the yard waste trash container. They also cut away most of the new blooms on the rose bushes, chopped down all my wild flowers, and trampled my struggling hibiscus.

The yard does look less cluttered and the boys are proud of their work.  We had ice cream to celebrate.

Surely the Army Would Have Been Nicer

We were at a World War II reenactment fair when my beautiful boy noticed someone carrying around an Air Force backpack.  Oh how he wanted that backpack!  To earn one though, a person had to do 20 pull-up's/chin-up's.  But, said the recruiter in charge, it was his last backpack so the fee was now 30 pull-up's/chin-up's. We all stared and made grumpy faces, and the recruiter said, "Okay, 25."

So Checkered, newly thin and always protective of our sometimes fragile boy, began.

1,2, 3,4,5,6,7,8,9, 10, 11, 12.. 13... 14....15.  That was it. There was a caveat though: Checkered had done a set of 10 prior to the set of 15.  Doesn't that equal 25?

According to the recruiter: no.

Stinky Air Force!

Am I Changing Again?!

I married when I was 31 -  long after most of my friends married. While they were setting up house and driving back and forth to the obstetrician, I was traveling, dating, earning three graduate degrees, dating some more, working some life-changing jobs, living in three different regions of the U.S., dating even more, and having a wonderful decade of 20-something -ness.

When I was 33,  Checkered and I became parents for the first time.   We were instantly and completely in love with our beautiful daughter.  During her first sixth months of life, as she repeatedly told us that she wasn't then and never would be a sleeper, and while I walked millions of miles with my miserably colicky baby, I told her all about my 20's.  I told her how I had really known who I was by the time I met her daddy.  I told her how I had done so much that by my 30's there was no restlessness in me.  I told her that no one should ever marry until he or she crosses the 30 threshold.  No one.

Now I'm not in my 30's anymore and I'm watching as several of our contemporaries send the last of their children off to college.  I watch as they take early retirements.  I watch as they begin second careers and welcome grandkids. 

And it makes me think.

This past week-end we went to the wedding of a 20 year old bride and groom.  They have no college degrees, no career paths in place, no real marketable skills yet, and neither has ventured much beyond their parents' homes.  But they are sincere.  They are in love.  They are fine people.

As we walked out of the ceremony, my 15 year old daughter (who now sleeps through the night) said,

 "I can't wait to get married!"

I startled myself by saying,

"If you find the right man in five years, sure!"

I really think I actually meant it.

Double-Checking

Most of the time I KNOW any sacrifice I've made to be a mom is worth it, but once in a great while I actually BELIEVE that, too.

Wednesday's Wisdom

Checkered and I survived our first high school orientation for our daughter. On the ride to the high school, we were commiserating over our shock at how quickly the years are moving. So it was two slightly sad parents who sat through the presentations that night.

Later, during our tour of our girl's new school, I ran into an acquaintance whose daughter graduated last year.

I asked how she (the mother) was doing, and when she said, "I choose to be excited," I was puzzled.

She went on to tell me of her daughter's graduation and how other mothers were crying and lamenting the passing years. The new grads were full of excitement, anxiety, and a little guilt about what the mothers were saying. That was when my acquaintance decided to see these changes through her daughter's eyes. And what she saw was excitement, limitless possibilities, and a desire for a mom who wasn't crying.

Now that girl is headed to Russia for the summer. Is her mom nervous? Is her mom aware of the potential troubles? But is her mom choosing to see the experience through her daughter's excited eyes? You bet.

I'm trying. I really am :)

Ouch, I Think

I asked my youngest son if he had given any thought to getting a girlfriend. He asked, "Do I have to?" Since I had just watched the movie, Juno, I thought the prudent answer would be, "No. Not now. Not ever."

Thirty seconds later he said, "I've been thinking about the girls in my class. The teacher is the best one. She's my favorite."

I prompted, "Is she the best one because she reminds you of me?"

"Not even one bit!" he laughed.

Oh! Be careful, little mother, what you ask!

Wednesday's Wisdom

Throughout the years, I've been blessed to periodically receive wisdom in the form of someone else's words. I've been thinking a lot about some of those words. So, that means that by default, you have to think about them, too.

I used to have a boss who was brilliant. Her Ph.D. was from one of "those" universities we all hear about but few can pass the admissions criteria or even afford. We were in a volatile work environment that year and there was never any certainty who was a friend or enemy. Then again, that differed on a daily basis.

In that midst of that horrendous emotional stress, I gave birth to my first child. Checkered and I were one of several couples in our circle of friends having a baby that year and there was surely a lot of unspoken competition. Whose baby could sit up first? Whose baby could talk first? Which preschool would their baby attend? Should we participate in those Mommy and Me classes? What about the Baby Einstein videos? You probably know the routine.

One day, while briefly chatting in the hallway at work, this brilliant boss gave me a quick bit of parenting advice which has guided me through some foggy parenting times.

This was the advice:
Almost every child will eventually walk, talk, and learn to read. Those skills happen naturally. How early your child begins to do those things really doesn't matter. But isn't it just as important that those children know how to make and be friends? Isn't it just as important that kids have time to just be kids?

A decade-plus and three additional babies later, those words are still resonating with me.