To have a child....

My sister in law gave me picture once that had the saying "To have a child is to forever have a piece of your heart walking outside your body." Oh, that is so true! When your child hurts, you hurt. When their friendships seem to only be surviving on a thread, you hurt. Teen age friendships are fickle things. Especially among girls. It's hard to explain seasonal friendships to teen girls. That is definintley a concept that becomes more clear with age.
I myself am just as guilty. As a teen girl, I didn't really have any good girl friends. My cousin moved to town when I was 13. She was everything I wanted to be. Blonde, thin, popular with boys. We were 3 months apart and had always been encouraged to be "Besties". Yeah, right. She LOATHED me. She pretended to like me....I tried to like her. Oh, we loved eachother, we just didn't always like eachother. As we got older, I realized that being blonde wasn't all I thought it appeared to be. I was thinner and taller than her. And I had my own boyfriends....that she subsequently stole. My grandma fostered a competitiveness between us. What I had, she had to have better....and I had to know it was better.
As we continued to get older, we continued in our "friendship". Eventually, we each had one other good friend. Mine was Michelle. We did everything together. Until Strawberry Milk Boy. (remember him?) And then I basically dumped her. I have no idea what I was thinking. She was so hurt. And I, believe it or not, have spent YEARS trying to find her. No luck. Something just shut off in my brain. It's like all of a sudden SMB became my all in all. And even when he dumped me, I still didn't rekindle the friendship. She was my Best Friend. The kind that is rare in teenage hood. The kind that could've survived anything....but my own sabatoge.
My cousin and I grew up together and even into adult hood kept our relationship going. I didn't always agree with the way she lived and she always thought I was a "goody goody". We each had our respective families, lived our respective lives and got together for holidays. About 10 years ago, our relationship really ended, from things I am not yet ready to share. About 4 years ago she passed away. I am saddened because she will never know that regardless of everything, I loved her.
As I watch our daughters muddle through, my heart breaks. Friendships of years have slowly and painfully dissolved, some friendships have never gotten off the ground and some have been broken so quickly and harshly you're not quite sure what happened. I try to be encouraging, to be positive. I try so desperatly to impart to them that this is such a small segment of their lives.I tell them about Michelle and my stupidness. And I tell them that I was lonely during High School, that I never had a really good friend until I was 20, and that was only ONE friend. I didn't make my next "Bestie" until I was in my 30's and the baby was 2. Now, I have all sorts of friends. Friends that love me knowing who I have been, friends that I go to lunch with and friends that I can just pick up with. Some are seasonal, and it does hurt when the season is over, but I just lift it up to God and He puts me back together. In the young teen years, there is so much growing to be done, so much selfishness and frustration with the way someone behaves. They are doing so much introspecctive research that it's hard to truly focus on someone else. I remind them that right now is NOT forever and the friend they love still loves them. But just like our daughters, the friends are on the other side of the moon. God is bigger than this, bigger than their hormones and bigger than the awkwardness. I will just continue to love them, continue to hug them and continue to hit my knees on their behalf.
I will also cry when they hurt.....I don't think that will ever change.

How sweet it is...

Imagine sitting somewhere quiet. Outside the skies are cloudy, the wind is blowing and you are safe and warm inside, cup of coffee in hand. Suddenly, out of nowhere comes this: "MOOOOOOOOOOM!" And the quiet is shattered. This is a scene from my life. There are times that one word, title if you will, drives me CRAZY! I get "mom, mom, mom, mom....." while that child is also poking me or patting my shoulder. I don't understand. Do they think that I can not hear them, so they must also physically make their presence known?? I run to the bathroom, but the thought that I can hide there is an urban myth. They knock and knock and speak through the door as loud as possible. Like I am doing something secret and they want to be a part of it. Like no one else in the house could possibly answer their question. I get all sorts of requests while I am in the lavatory. "Can I call...." "Can I go outside?" "Mom, she did ____ to me" And while I am in "private", I just sigh and shake my head and yell " I AM IN THE BATHROOM!" Conversation ceases.
There are times when I just can't play another game, I just can't watch another animated movie and just can't listen to another word about who did what to whom. There are times I want to send in my resignation and go somewhere warm. Somewhere the word "mom" isn't spoken with frustration, anger or attitude. You know...the "Mooother!" That one is always accompanied by an eye roll. There are times I ask the Lord why He thought I would be a good mom. "Momzilla" appears more often than I'd like. I get frustrated over rooms that don't get clean, and dishes that don't get done. I purposely do NOT go upstairs. The girls don't want me to and I don't want to. It's scary up there.
There are times when I NEED to be an adult. When hubby and I go out alone, I have been known to ask to sit somewhere that there are NO children. I have found that I have no patience for children under the age of 7. Babies are sweet, but I am SO very glad I am done having them. People are suprised that I, having had 6 children, don't really enjoy young ones right now. I say to them: I have been a mom for a LONG time! When asked if I cried when Little Bit started 1st grade, my answer is a resounding NO! I HAVE WORKED HARD TO GET HERE! And as I sit with my coffee, will all the kids in school (finally!!!) I gain perspective. I am a good mom. I love our girls. I love the what the word "Mom" stands for. I love that it is spoken lovingly to me and about me. I love that I have the freedom to sit where there are no kids and love that my hubby supports me and helps me with the children. (even though he seems oblivious when they are POUNDING on the bathroom door to get my attention) After the silence of my day, in which I still do my "chores", one more game doesn't seem like such a big deal and animated movies are again magical. I still don't have much patience for the who did what game or the physical assaults upon my person as they try to get my attention. But when the word "MOOOOOOOOOOOM!" is yelled at the top of one child's lungs, I can sigh, shake my head and think "How sweet it is to be their mother."

Of all the things

I left high school in 1990. I was 17, entering my last semester of my LAST year of high school and I left. Granted, I was pregnant and married. I thought I wanted to be with my husband. Ironically, we are divorced. Oh, the things I know now. Moving on....
Last week, I enrolled in night high school. Yes, they take people as old as me. Sometimes even older. As Matt and I pulled up to the building, I inwardly shuddered. Just something about the sign "Frank Church High School" made me go....UGH! I instantly became 15, worried about what the other kids might think of me. Are you kidding??!! I am 37 years old. I have GOT to get over myself! After talking to the counselor, I walked to the class room and met the teacher. She's very nice. Glancing around, I caught the eye of a teen boy. He looked cocky and very self assured. Raising my eyebrow, I said to the teacher "THEY have to call me Mrs. L, but you can call me by my first name." I realized at that moment that although it is every adults nightmare to go back to high school, I have a chance. An opportunity to finish what was started. It will not make me a better person, mom or wife. It will not improve my english skills. I will still be me....I have not let the fact that I am diplomaless define my life. I have moved past every other obstacle with a lot of prayer and many, many mistakes. I have made it through, I have overcome and I have survived. Finishing school will show our girls that it's never too late. It will show them that mom has guts and bravery. And I will be proud of me....it may be 20 years late, but at least I'm doing it.
And when those cocky teens decide they are my peers, I will firmly remind them that I am old enough to be their mother.....and have no problem with that whatsoever!

Duly Noted

As I write this, I am shaking my head. My wonderful, full of hope for our Juliet, blog must be changed. As duly noted, her Romeo is back in school. With her. So what does that mean?? I have no clue. The happy dance inside me has ceased, I am chastised. Hmmm. Consider that blog ammended. On to the next subject.
At what point does one truly grow up? My sister has always been a bit younger than her age. We have one daughter that is a bit behind her peers socially. Does that mean she's immature? No. It just means she hasn't developed the tactics of building deep friendships yet. She's learning. But, it's painful for me to watch her learn. I KNOW I could help her, yet she pushes me away consistently. It's almost the toddler "I can do it" mentality. When she was a toddler, she did everything herself...who knew it was an omen of how she would live her life?? She grew up hiding herself....pretending everything was ok, even if it wasn't. She believes asking for help is a weakness. Aren't we almost bred that way? Aren't we taught to be "self sufficient" and self serving? Society teaches us that we can do it! Even if we can't. It's not that I don't think she should try things, I just know it's ok to ask for help and to lean on other people.
We have another daughter that was a very happy baby. Who thought that a happy baby meant a happy kid? I did, I did!! Well....that is a MYTH! She became the drama girl, the one who always sees rain in the sunshine and always worries. (Yes, Matty...she gets the worry from me) If someone doesn't call, she pictures him dead on the side of the road. Once, she got so mad she hit the table.....then told us we didn't care that she had hurt herself. I said "Oh, I'm sorry. Am I supposed to feel bad because you CHOSE to hit a table?" Of course I felt bad....but HELLO!! BUT, she tells me most everything...except one thing and I read that on her phone. No privacy in my house. I am all up in their business!!! Both these girls are great girls. I love them intensly with my whole heart. I just wish I could put them in my past....let them see the growing I've had to do.........to see the heartache and realize it's normal. To understand, that sometime, we need help to grow. That sometimes reacting isn't the best thing. So, when is a person truly grown up?
I honestly don't know. I know I am wiser, more fun and alot more free with my fun side. I don't care what people think anymore....I have taught them to dance in the rain, have pillow fights with feather pillows and have water fights in the house. So...I guess I'm not grown up yet, either. I just wish I could make their growing up easier, painless and fruitful. Until we figure out a way to truly do that, I will just pray them through it.....knowing that He picks them up when they fall.

By the way...on second thought...I don't think they need to see my past....I don't think I could explain it......it's kind of scary back there.....LOL!!!

Parting is such sweet sorrow....

Juliet lives at my house. Her Romeo of almost 2 years has recently had some life changes and has left the school they jointly attended. She saw him almost every day last week, yet this week (and it's only monday), her life is changed FOREVER. She began crying on Sunday, saying that she wouldn't be able to get a hug from him in the mornings. In my wisdom I informed her that this was NOT the end of the world, and that they would either make it or they wouldn't. In typical Juliet form, she began to sob. My heart hurts for her, but secretly, I'm a little (ie: ALOT) happy about this.
I remember that before I dated older, I had a boyfriend. We will call him Fred. I LOVED Fred! He was cute, would ride his bike 10 miles just to come see me and appeared to LOVE me. I remember he liked strawberry milk. Well, 6 months into my happily ever after, he broke up with me. To date my friend. I remember being in the school hallway, surrounded by people slamming lockers as they pretended not to notice me getting dumped. I remember being to mad at him, so angry and hurt. Before he could blink, my hand had left a print on his cheek the color of a very ripe cherry. He deserved that! I thought I would die....my heart hurt so much. But I didn't....I just started dating. On to the next one. After a few more months Fred tried to get me back. HA! Not this cookie. I had moved on to my next "happily ever after". There were many that I thought would be forever. I was always looking. In a way I am glad my Juliet has been with her Romeo for so long. Her heart hasn't been broken, she hasn't spent time sobbing because "she thought he loved her". My mommy heart doesn't want her to go through that. My ex-teen girl heart says it would be ok. There hasn't really been growing time . They seem to only need eachother......and they are too young for that.
I think everyone needs to have their heart broken once in their lifetime so they can be more careful of others. I think Juliet should have fun, not be worried about her tomorrows and forevers. We haven't raised her to think her life is dependent upon her Romeo, so where did that come from??
So, while I am sad that she is sad, inside I am doing the happy dance. For whatever reason, God has moved Romeo out of close poximity. I trust that the Lord loves her, so I know that this is part of His plan for our Juliet AND her Romeo. As for me, I finally found MY happily ever after. He is a fantastic husband, a great dad and everything I ever wanted. When I stopped searching for what I thought I needed, and let God take over I was blessed beyond belief. When we strike out on our own, with no regard to His plan........well it's a rough ride. I am happy to say, my road is a little smoother.....with the gravel leveled out. ;)

Ok, so who thought having and raising kids would be easy? Show of hands?? (see me raise hand) Whatever!! I remember being very young and wanting nothing more than to be a mommy. Aren't we, as young girls, taught that there is nothing better than being a mom and wife? We wait breathlessly for Prince Charming and our 2.5 kids to come along. Then one day, it all happens. And the kids cry, and your husband argues, and ever so s-l-o-w-l-y you lose your mind.
Yet, there is such JOY in being "Mommy"! It may not be easy, but it is such a rewarding experience. That does NOT mean that our (my) children are angels...PUH-LEASE! They are girls, and most of them are teens. Definition of teen girl: Moody, cranky, fickle and joyful. Yells in one second, all sugar the next. Crying over spilt milk, laughing over dead cat. Who really understands the mind of a "Teen Queen"? Not me.
I only know that when I started having children at the old age of 17 (yes, you read right), I thought I knew it all. I see video of me being her mother and I die a little inside. I didn't know how to be her mom. I was a kid, selfish and scard. Oh, I LOVED her. She was my child, but I didn't understand truly how to raise her. It was like she was just there, you know?? I wouldn't change it...wouldn't want it different. I am who I am because of her....and the 5 others that followed. I love each of them so much my heart hurts daily. I do want them to have more growing time before they become moms. I know I can't wrap them in bubble wrap, can't send them to live with the Amish ( I really want to) and I can't protect them forever....maybe not at all. I take comfort in knowing that they are in God's hands, and scripture says that they can not be snatched out of His hands. I also know that in His infinitude, He made me her mother at age 17. And though I may not always understand why He thought I was a good choice to raise His children, I am blessed all the more for it. Each one grew under my heart, and I am reminded of His grace by each peal of laughter, each tear and even each door that slams. It may not be easy...but it's a "not" easy I can deal with. If you ask me tomorrow if I feel the same way, the answer may be no...but today I'm ok.