Parents to Friends

Today I tackle another question from the Help Me With My Dry Spell post.

I'd like to hear your perspective on the transition from parent as "authority" to parent as "friend" as your children age - how does that work, any specific suggestions on how to 'let go' slowly or does it just happen naturally over time?

I've thought about this question for a couple of weeks now and before chiming in, I'd like to say I have never felt like a parenting expert. I blame myself for any bad habits I see in my kids, but any good qualities I attribute to the grace of God. I can't say I've been an intentional parent. Most days I feel I'm hanging on for the ride, praying God will make good of my efforts. My kids are sensitive, creative, loving individuals, but I can't say it's because I've done A, B, or C. God does good work. Period.

Having gotten that off my chest, I'll offer my observations on this subject. In my experience, this transition happens slowly over time. I remember feeling such sadness when my oldest went to kindergarten. I cried every day for two weeks and he was only going for half days! I realized it bothered me because I was giving up some control over him. I no longer knew how he spent his entire day. I wasn't privy to his conversations. I wasn't there to ensure proper behavior. It was the first step to letting go.

The letting go continues, requiring more as they get older. Sleepovers, walking home from school, driving privileges. The older they get, the less they are home, limiting your control over their behavior. We set and enforce boundaries, but they choose how they will follow.

I find the toughest stage yet to be navigating the parental role as they leave the house. What if they don't do __________________? How often should I remind them? Do you let them learn the hard way? What if they do things you don't like? Is it your responsibility to correct them?

While I don't have the answers to those questions (every situation seems to call for a different response), one thing I find very satisfying and comforting is the relationship I have with each of my kids. They talk to me. Even seem to LIKE talking to me at times. I find this a huge blessing and thank God for it every day. As I think about how that came about, I immediately recall one habit that helped.

I worked hard to have dinner together many nights a week. This gets tricky as kids get into high school and have their own activities. Sometimes it meant we ate early at 4:30 or 5, requiring Kevin to come home earlier than usual. Sometimes it meant waiting for a kid to get off work later and eating at 6:30. It's not always possible, but if I could make it happen, I did. As I look through the years of our family, our best times have been at the dinner table. We didn't prepare deep, spiritual lessons or use the time lecturing them. We were just us, eating, being together, laughing, connecting. This simple habit fostered togetherness and defined us as a family.

We've always been very open with our kids (sometimes I wonder if it's been TOO open), but now they are comfortable discussing many things with us. I've made it my goal to be the same with them as I would be with anyone else. I didn't want to have a "Mom" persona and a "Tami" persona. I hated the idea of them listening into Bible study some night and wondering who I was. I didn't want them seeing someone different outside the house than they saw inside the house. I don't know, of course, but I hope that built respect in them for me and paved the way for a friend type of relationship later.

An added pressure to our family life was Kevin working for a church. At first I felt our kids had expectations put on them because of it. I decided early on I wasn't going to fall for that trap. We answer to God, so my kids never got the "You have to live to a higher standard" speech. I wasn't putting that pressure on them. We did our best to model authentic lives and listen. We let them be who they are, not who church people thought they should be.

I'm of the mindset there is no magic formula for raising kids. Each child possesses a unique gift set, has a different personality. How can there be a step by step plan that works with everyone? My goal is to bring up individuals who love God and their family. Despite my weaknesses, I see that in my kids. Thank You Jesus! So far, so good. Nice work, God.

What are your thoughts on transitioning from parent to friend?

When They Seem to Be Slipping Away

Glory be, my readers came through with some topics for us to discuss. The first one comes from Anonymous who writes:

Tami, I am struggling with a child who was raised in a loving Christian home who is slipping away from us, but more importantly, away from God. Please send some words to comfort me in my worry for him and my guilt that I might have not done everything I should have.

Oh my dear Anonymous, any woman with grown children has surely asked these questions, haven't they? I have laid awake many nights struggling with decisions made out of my control. I have worried and stewed and asked God for intervention. I've wondered if God heard my prayers at all when He doesn't answer how I wish. I see the worst case scenario at the end of the road and panic.

I guess this is a long way of saying, "I HEAR YA SISTER!"

I wish I had a pretty answer for you. To be honest I've felt frustrated with God's consistent answer to me.

Trust Me.

I know. Not what you really want to hear. I can't tell you how many times He's told me this or variations of this.

There's a plan, Tami.
You can't see the big picture.
For God causes all things to work together for the good . . .
My time frame is not the same as yours.
Trust the plan.

I have no choice. If I want peace at all, I have to trust. I have to believe God's got it handled and do the only thing I can.

Pray my little heart out, relying on scriptures which tell me those prayers and my persistence matter.

So I say to you: Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened. Which of you fathers, if your son asks for[a] a fish, will give him a snake instead? Or if he asks for an egg, will give him a scorpion? If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!
Luke 11:9-13

Then Jesus told his disciples a parable to show them that they should always pray and not give up. He said: “In a certain town there was a judge who neither feared God nor cared about men. And there was a widow in that town who kept coming to him with the plea, ‘Grant me justice against my adversary.’

“For some time he refused. But finally he said to himself, ‘Even though I don’t fear God or care about men, yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will see that she gets justice, so that she won’t eventually wear me out with her coming!’”

And the Lord said, “Listen to what the unjust judge says. And will not God bring about justice for his chosen ones, who cry out to him day and night? Will he keep putting them off?"
Luke 18:1-7

. . . The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective.
James 5:16

I don't let Satan suggest I have failed. It's not that I haven't made mistakes. Everyone does. But what good comes from carrying that guilt? What do we say to our children if we hold onto it? Do we suggest they're horrible people? Do you want to tell them that? Not me. And how much is "enough?" How do you know you've done everything you can? We drive ourselves nuts dwelling on that. Instead, let's focus Truth.

Train a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it.
Proverbs 22:6

I choose to believe God's got it, despite my failures.

Finally, I love like there's no tomorrow. Smiles, hugs, well-placed words from my kids absolutely undo me. I keep going back for more. I will be involved in my kids' lives, hoping my presence reminds them where they've come from and who they are. I will demonstrate that I am in their corner and they are on our team. Forever. I will always love them.

Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.
1 Peter 4:8

Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
1 Corinthians 13:6-7

What can you do when you're worried about your grown children?

Trust God.
Pray like crazy.
Don't let Satan beat you up.
Love, love, love.

I'm sorry, friend. There are no easy answers. As a friend of mine used to say on her blog, "Never give up." Never. Ever.

Thank you dear Anonymous, for having the courage to ask a tough question many people struggle with. I appreciate your boldness in coming forth.

What would you say to Anonymous?



Photo Credit: Thai Jasmine (Smile..smile...Smile..)

A Mother's Special Grace

I worry about my kids.

I want the best for them and this world can be a tough place to live. These years of transitioning kids to adulthood have proven to be the most difficult for me yet. I stew and I think too far ahead and I pray like crazy.

Lately I think of Mary, then feel guilty for my minor anxieties. Oh, how that woman must have suffered. When she was pondering in the stable, was Mary thinking about the future for her child? Did she have any clue what was ahead? Did she know she'd watch her Son, God's Son, be brutally beaten? Did she know people would say awful things and accuse Him unjustly? Did she know she'd watch him die?


I think of my kids and my petty concerns compared to hers. How did she survive those three days after His death? I would have been done in. I would have crawled in a ball and died myself. How did she do it? Did God give Mary special grace? What did He tell her those three days her heart broke? Did she remember what He said about rebuilding the temple? Did she understand? Or did she just endure?

I wish I knew, but I still take hope from her. If God gave Mary special grace to raise His child, won't He do the same for me? Aren't my children really His? Won't He provide what I need to be the mother my children need? Won't He help me trust Him and relieve my worries? He'll be there every step of the way, just as He was with Mary. His Word promises it.

He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young.

Isaiah 40:11

Like Mary, I'll believe His Word. When I feel afraid, I'll cry out to Him. I'll do my best to be still and to listen and to ponder.

How will you be like Mary?



Photo Credit: :nick

My Mothering Failure

I should have known better.

When Miss Innocent One plopped down in my office and said she was going to do her math homework there "in case she had any questions," I should have shut my laptop and given her my full attention.

It's just that my day had already been interrupted by an impromptu visit to the doctor for "splinter removal," and school had gotten out early and we had to pick up Ladies Man's new glasses and he needed some things from Walmart.

I should have known, but instead I typed away, hoping to finish in time to make supper and get to Bible study. But she kept having questions, kept interrupting my train of thought, and though I helped her, my inconvenienced, annoyed attitude came through loud and clear.

To add to the commotion, Kevin came home early and joined us in the office. Soon Ladies Man came in to get a glimpse of Kevin's splinter-less hand, all the while I'm trying to keep my cool and answer questions about math. When Kevin couldn't find the antibiotic ointment, I lumbered down the stairs to help him and whispered my frustration through clenched teeth.

She's driving me crazy. I can't get anything done.

I got him fixed up and wandered back upstairs to find Miss Innocent One in a major huff.

Miss Innocent One: You're making me feel like a stupid idiot.

Me: What did I do to make you feel like a stupid idiot? I'm helping you! Let's just get this done.

Miss Innocent One (still fuming): This is stupid. I stink at math.

Me: No you don't. Come on, let's finish this.

Miss Innocent One (as loud as she gets): I don't want to do this!

She threw her pencil and stomped out of the room. Now math gets her goat consistently, but this outburst was VERY uncharacteristic of her. She only had three problems left so I pushed her to come back and finish. She did, but not with the best attitude and as soon as we were done, she stomped back to her bedroom. I gave her some space. A few minutes later she wandered back to my office to ask a different question.

Me: Are you okay, honey? Why did you get so upset?

Miss Innocent One (tears welling): Just frustrated, I guess.

Me: Are you sure there isn't more to it?

Miss Innocent One (still holding back the dam): I don't know.

Me (figuring it out): Did you hear what I said to Dad?

She nodded slowly, still willing away the tears.

And I felt like the worst mother on the face of the globe. When will I learn I don't have to utter everything that crosses my brain? Why didn't I remember to give her the time first and I'd be less frustrated in the long run? How could I make it right?

Me: I'm sorry, honey. I was just frustrated. I don't think you're a stupid idiot. Not at all. I should have stopped what I was doing to help you and we would have been done sooner. It's my fault. I'm sorry. Do you forgive me?

She nodded and I walked over to give her a hug, apologizing again. She is gracious and loving and doesn't hold grudges, but I still kicked myself around for my own stupidity. And I could have stayed there, wallowing in my mothering mistake, not allowing myself any slack, being stuck in the mire of my mind. But what does that do? How would that help this situation? What good is accomplished?

Instead I chose to be thankful, for a gracious daughter, who is WAY more kind and compassionate than I am, for forgiveness, for resolution to an ugly situation. I thanked Him for giving me words to say and prayed for Him to heal my daughter's tender heart.

And I thanked Him that I had this bad scene as reference and motivation to do better the next time.

Join Laurie at Women Taking a Stand to see more Thankful Thursday posts.

The Invaluable Lesson of Mothering

Being a mother never gets easier.

It starts out rough with sleepless nights and infants literally sucking the life out of you.

Then you graduate to temper tantrums and potty training (bleh!). You get the bejeebers scared out of you witnessing falls and accidents and nursing them through illnesses. You spend a third of your life waiting for them, to get out of school, done with piano lessons, finished with soccer practice, through with their homework.

They become teenagers and treat you like an idiot and argue with you about your ridiculous rules and push your buttons and bleed your bank account.

And after all that investment, they have the audacity to leave. They live in your home long enough to drive you crazy and make you certain you can't live without them, and then they move out.

What is the point of it all? Why did God choose this vehicle to reproduce the earth? Why must He insist on ripping the hearts out of His tender creations called mothers?

I hurt for and with my kids. I lay awake at night, worrying, praying over them, wanting their best. I would do anything in my power for them and yet I haven't come close to experiencing the pain God did as He turned His back on His only Son hanging on a cross.

I can't even wrap my head around that. It makes me realize what I consider pain in mothering is nothing. The sadness I feel thinking of Drama Queen leaving for college pales in comparison. Every rough parenting moment--the fevers, the power struggles, the expenses, the loss of sleep, the constant demands on time--all seem so minor when viewed in light of that cross.

Being a mom is tough, the hardest thing God has ever asked me to do, but He doesn't ask me to do what He hasn't far exceeded. He loved. He gave. He sacrificed. FAR more than I could ever imagine.

Perhaps mothers have the privilege of feeling a glimpse of His pain, a privilege because it helps us identify with Him. Does motherhood provide some tiny bit of understanding into how much He gave?

I have no reason to complain about my hard role as a mother for He loved much harder. We love because He first loved us. We CAN love because He loved best. Praise God for the gift of motherhood, for the unique opportunity to know the mind and heart of God. May His love inspire, sustain and strengthen us.

Be All In

Sometimes I think I'm a lousy parent.

Teenagers have a way of reinforcing that belief. The eye rolls, the disgusted sighs, the logic wars, the resistance--all have a way of screaming of my incompetence.

It's easy for me to buy into it too. I know I can be scatterbrained. I have trouble keeping the information from each kid straight. Memory fails me. I procrastinate. I put the kids off when I don't want to deal with things. I complain about their lack of help. I'm moody. I get tired of working around their schedules. Yep. Lousy parent.

But every once in a while, God gives me solace about my lack of parenting skills. Every so often, He gives me a glimpse that He's filled in my inadequacies. He shows me my kids really are connected to me.

Last week Ladies Man was gone and called twice to "see how everybody was around there." Drummer Boy drove down to show us his sweet rental car and, as is his custom, just sort of hung around at odd times of the day, not even for food! I went to Drama Queen's room and found her reading my blog. Miss Innocent One left for a weekend trip and had to give good-bye kisses twice. She even waved with a look on her face that said she'd do it again if she could.

As I think about it more, I realize my kids bring friends over OFTEN, at least a few times every week. They must not be too embarrassed by us. They love bantering at the dinner table as much as we do. They hold onto family memories. They like recalling the stories. They spend time watching home movies.

There IS connection and belonging and true love in our family, though they may not vocalize it. To be honest, I wonder how these very good things happen, when their mother possesses glaring weaknesses. With all the mistakes I've made, how do they stay tied to us?

I hope it's because they recognize I'm all in.

In the good. In the bad. In the disappointment, the fear, the stress, the crabbiness. I'm there, more than they wish I would be at times. I'm in. I always will be. They must know it. Isn't that the best any parent can do?

Don't despair about your lack of parenting skills, my friends. Pray like crazy. Find wisdom in God's Word. Do your best. Trust Him to fill in the gaps.

And be all in.

Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.

1 Peter 4:8

Tattoos, Salvation and the Proverbs 31 Lady

“We talked in Sunday school about how tattoos are sinful,” my son said, jumping into the van after church.

I squirmed in the driver’s seat. I was glad to have a reason to sway my thirteen-year-old from wanting a tattoo, but didn’t find his statement accurate.

“Our teacher showed us a verse that says you shouldn’t mark your body.”

I knew what he was talking about, but I also knew it was found in the Old Testament, part of the Old Covenant, a set of laws we are no longer bound to as new creatures in Christ. I had a decision to make. Should I let him believe tattoos were a sin and save myself a possible adolescent battle later or should I tell him the truth?


Click on The Quiet Quill where I am guest posting to read the rest of the story.

Mothering By the Book

I'd just finished preparing to lead a Bible study on laying aside the old and putting on the new when it happened.

I blew up at my kid.

And I'm not talking stern, parental voice. I'm talking loss-of-control-yelling, let-a-curse-word-out ugliness. She slammed the door on her way out. I shoved the refrigerator. We both stuffed the tears.

Sigh. Some mother, some Bible study leader I am.

I had a little pity party and cried it out, then decided I better get ready for study. It was going to take me a little more time since I had to iron my shirt.

But when I went for the iron, it was gone, and I remembered my daughter, the very one I'd just gone off on, left it at school. The ire rose again and I grabbed my phone to send her a snarky text, when suddenly God stopped me.

Weren't you just grieved about how she left? Weren't you the one who asked my forgiveness and for wisdom? Try these on for size.

A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.

Proverbs 15:1

Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves. Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others.

Philippians 2:3-4

Sigh. Was my iron more important than my relationship with my daughter? Did saving face and maintaining my authority matter if my she dreaded coming home?

So I texted, "I hate how you left this morning. I'm sorry."

A few seconds later, my phone buzzed.

"I'm sorry too."

And healing began.

I'm not perfect. I'm moody and selfish and worry about the expectations of others far too much. And I'm definitely NOT a model mother. But I want to be. My kids deserve better. My best shot is to follow God's lead, to know His word and be willing to apply it to ME first.

I need to mother by THE book.



Photo Credit: jamelah

So Much For Being Mary Poppins

I want to be a Domestic Goddess, the perfect mother, wife, homemaker. Think Mary Poppins surrounded by dozens of chirping songbirds and happy, smiling, dancing children who all think I'm the cat's meow.

Or something like that.

Maybe I didn't fly enough kites with my kids, I don' t know, but they seem to need a good swift kick in the pants more than they need a spoonful of sugar. Come to think of it, I can count on one hand the number of times we actually got kites flying, not for lack of trying, I'll have you know.

Truth is, this mothering gig requires more than being the fun lady who makes taking medicine a joy. On any given day, I have to be a world class sleuth, a patient counselor, a tutor, a seamstress, a hairdresser (true confession time--I really stink at those last two!), a chauffeur, an advocate, a short order cook, or a master drill sergeant. With so many faces and hats involved, no wonder I get so fried I feel like the abominable snowman in this video.


No, I've never been Mary Poppins. Some days I'm Cruella DeVille, others I resemble Barney Rubble. My poor kids never know what they'll walk into. But I guess what's important is that I keep going in. I'm not the perfect mother, but I'm always here. That counts for something, right?

Mothers of the world unite. We can do this. Hang tough. No Mary Poppins required.

Failing Snow Days

It snowed A LOT in my neck of the woods this week and our kids have been out of school two full days. Look closely at Ladies Man, Drama Queen and Miss Innocent One. Do you see the twinkle in their eyes? There's a reason for it. They've had far too much fun tormenting their parents!

Maybe I'm just getting old (don't you dare say ANYTHING), but the kids seemed so LOUD at home this week. I knew I was in for it when Miss Innocent One started playing the piano and Ladies Man got his trombone out to accompany her. Of course, we did this with the t.v. on full blast. Then there were the chases up and down the stairs, craft projects littering the living room, the mocking of their dad's choice of Christmas music, and wet boots and clothes strung out in the kitchen. They were having fun with each other, for which I am grateful, but they were so. . .LOUD!

I know, I'm a monster mother. I read all the beautiful sentiments other moms leave on Facebook about playing games, drinking hot cocoa, watching movies, making Christmas cookies and playing in the snow with their kids on our snow break, and the guilt creeps in. We only played one game and I yelled at them more than a few times to quit laying in the snow and scoop already. Yowsa, my mothering skills are an epic fail.

So I get a big fat F on my mother report card this week and feel like the grouchy old woman no one wants to visit. Pray for me, 'kay? Or maybe you should pray for them--they have to live with me!

Lord, help us all. I love 'em, really I do. I mean, look at them. What's not to love? Maybe I just need to buy earplugs. . .

News Bulletin

Operation Back Off, Mama has been in effect for two months now with apparent success. Mama is NOT receiving late night desperation phone calls and Son is NOT getting incessant nagging from Mama. Both parties seem happy with the arrangement and are seeing personal growth, as well as enjoying an adult relationship.

Who knew growing up could be so healthy?

I love you, Keygan.

Un-nesting

The year of Tami feeling old continues. . .

Yesterday we took our son to his college's Summer Advising and Enrollment day. Yes, this is really happening. It was pretty weird sitting through the sessions, remembering exactly how it felt over twenty-five years ago when I was the potential student. I'm sure I wasn't alone in my feelings as my husband kept looking around the room saying, "We look younger than them, don't we? They're older than us, don't you think? We're probably some of the youngest ones here, wouldn't you say?" I didn't burst his bubble and just let him live in lala land, shrugging my shoulders and raising my eyebrows politely.

He, on the other hand, kept telling me to take a breath and calm down. What I thought was cheerful, fun-loving conversation, he decided was running off at the mouth. "Honey, really, you're talking 500 miles an hour. Take a breath." Yeah. Right. King Blabbermouth was trying to tell me to zip it. Where does he get off? When I appealed to Keygan for help, he just shook his head and laughed saying, "Geez, Mom."

Okay, so maybe I was a wee bit anxious about being there. Nah, had to be too much caffeine.

Throughout the day matronly control slipped from my fingers. (Who am I kidding? When was the last time I was really in control?!) I was slapped up side the head with the realization I am going to have to let the kid go. I know. I'm working on it, truly I am. And I must say the college did a good job of helping me. Obviously they've dealt with this. I'm pretty sure they designed the day to be baby steps for moms like me. We were together with our kids for the whole morning, but after lunch they took the students to register for classes AWAY from us. We got no say. I couldn't even mumble or sigh over his shoulder to direct his choices. It felt like a deliberate snip of the apron strings. And they may as well have given every afternoon speaker a megaphone to scream, "Back off, woman!"

I got the message loud and clear. I've got to let him sink or swim. Dang.

Lord, help us both!

Making my Circle Bigger

She told me I could be anything I wanted to be.

She pushed me to do things I was afraid to do so that fear wouldn't hold me back.

She asked me, "If you could have anything you want, what would it be?"

What was out of reach for her growing up, she put in my hand.

She encouraged me in my passions and talents before they looked like anything.

She opened up my world by finding a way to pay for special camps and amazing trips.

When I thought it impossible, she said, "Where there's a will there's a way. Let's find out about it."

She taught me how to dream.

Thank you, Mom. Your influence in my life never ends. I love you very much.

Happy Mother's Day.

Exactly what they need

I'm not a model mother.

My kids would concur. I think every one of them wished I would take a flying leap on Saturday. Frankly, it didn't sound like a bad idea to me either. This mom gig is tough!

Last week I growled into my husband's shoulder saying I needed a break from being a mom. I love my kids, I really do. They are awesome, no angels, mind you (unless you count the youngest the rest of them call "Perfect Baby Angel Child" who never gets in trouble. When will they quit beating that old drum?!). It's just that sometimes I get tired of the commitments, the laundry, the appointments, the money being shelled out, the late nights, the early mornings, the endless questions and minor crises I'm supposed to address at a moment's notice.

Don't say it. I'll say it for you. My whiny baby syndrome is kicking in again. You think God resists the urge to smack me the same way I do with my teenage daughter when hormones take over her mouth?

Believe it or not, my reality check came through a television program. A couple was divorcing and the husband was awarded temporary custody of the kids for two weeks. As the wife was getting the children ready to go with their dad, she put on a happy face, trying to make it easier on them, telling them how much fun they were going to have, assuring the older of the two it was going to be okay. But the minute the front door shut, she fell to the floor. I've never faced this kind of trauma personally, yet I couldn't help but cry along with her. As much as they wear me out, I can't stand the thought of living without my kids.

The truth is I prayed to be a mother. I yearned for it. And God answered my prayer, four times over. Despite my feelings of inadequacy, it is no mistake these kids live in my house. Though I'm going to mess up every single day, though I'm bound to lose my temper and get frustrated, though my body is consistently weary, He chose me the same way He chose Mary. It is a divine appointment. I am the best possible mother for each of them. No one else can give them what I can. When it gets overwhelming, I need to remember His promise:

He tends his flock like a shepherd; he gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart. He gently leads those that have young.
There is hope and help. I can do this mother thing as long as I hold His hand.

I pray as my children sit around with their friends and talk about the stupid things their parents do or did, they are gentle. I pray as they become parents themselves they will understand. And I pray for strength for mothers every where. May His spirit empower us to be exactly what our children need.

Dead Giveaway

His head comes up to my eyeballs. I tell him in another year he could be taller than me which is no small thing since I'm 5'8" and he's only 11. He's never been one to tell me exactly what's on his mind and as adolescence approaches I fear I will get less and less. He enters middle school this fall and it saddens me to think in the next few years he will figure things out his own way. He may not need me as much. His friends will soon be more exciting than his mother.

Yet he still wanders into the kitchen giving me a "Hey, Mom." He looks like he wants to ask me something as he sidles up close and I get the picture. I grab him in a big hug and though he tries to hide it, I see the smile. I feel his arms take hold and he lingers. The next few years may bring big changes for us and he will not be my "little" boy for long, but his smile tells me volumes. I think we'll make it through these upcoming, sometimes tumultuous teen years. The kid's got a soft spot for his mom. Thank You, Lord.



For more Thankful Thursday posts, visit Sting My Heart.

Not Even Close to Mother of the Year

The house had been SOOOOOO noisy all morning. Two of my kids were playing this cup game they learned at youth group that involves clapping and tapping and slamming cups onto the table in a certain rhythm. (Becca, if you're reading this, I owe you BIG TIME!!!!!) While they were filling the dining room with deafening sound, my oldest had his iTunes blaring on the computer and my youngest was practicing her piano lesson.

I felt the familiar irritability and muscle knot at the base of my skull common to this particular week of the month. To avoid blowing my top, I decided to escape it for a while and take a shower, but when I came back down, the cup game continued, the computer had been replaced by the television and my piano girl started following me around talking to me. I didn't want to hurt anyone, so I told the cup couple, "You guys need to be done with that before your mother goes completely nuts." Recognizing the very real possibility of that, they quit immediately. (See, there IS a God!!)

In 45 minutes Cup Couple and I were leaving for the day and I wanted to get my In "Other" Words post done before I left, so I sat down at my computer. Even my headphones and white noise couldn't completely block out the commotion as Cup Couple started this chasing thing that involved lots of running, slapping, screaming, laughing, and loud bumps as they fell to the floor. It made it VERY hard to concentrate, especially with their sister asking me a completely irrelevant question every other minute! The tension kept growing and my head was feeling it. Finally, this stressed out woman lost it.

"I am NOT listening to that all day. You guys need to knock it off now or I'm not taking you."

Teen daughter replied in her exceptionally adolescent tone, "Fine, then, I won't go."

My response? "GOOD!" (Go ahead and cringe. Stupid me.)

Her mouth fell open. "Thanks a lot, Mom," she said running up the stairs to her room before the tears started falling.

I let her go and kept working on my post, honestly just thankful for some quiet, trying to convince myself she was partly to blame for what I said. But a few minutes later the guilt starting creeping in and I made my way to her room.

"I'm sorry, honey, I was wrong. I shouldn't have said that. I'm trying to get stuff done before we leave and you guys were making it very hard. It made me crazy. I shouldn't have said it. I didn't mean it. I want you to go along with us. I'm sorry. Will you forgive me?"

We made up and she went along with her brother and me on our shopping excursion. Even though I knew it would take longer, I treated them to lunch at their favorite restaurant, making the most of this opportunity to spend some time with my blessings in disguise. All in all, it was a pretty good day, except for the one time I was tempted to leave them in Sears.

So today I am thankful I don't have to be perfect to be a mom, because if that was the prerequisite, my life would be very boring now. I'm thankful God can take my bad and make it into something good. When I mess up, both my children and I can learn valuable lessons in humility and forgiveness. And. . .gotta say I'm thankful PMS passes eventually.


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