My Baby Girl...Growing Up

I can still hear my OB's announcement singing in my ears, "It's a girl!", he called out.  I remember bursting into tears, deeply grateful for the safe arrival of all that spelled pink and lace and ponytails. 

In a few months she will be sweet sixteen.  There is a shock and normalcy to this next stage.  It did not all happen overnight.  Each stage came upon us and somehow just meshed into the next stage.  I never wanted to hurry any stage, no matter how difficult.  It was just "where we were at".  But I did at times, wish that the calender would come to a standstill and we would stay a little longer in a particular season. 

Oh sure, those early years were physically draining and emotionally trying.
With a newborn there was the constant care  of providing even just the basics.  Sometimes I was overcome with fear, wondering why her fever continued to prevail.   And the toddler years?  Teaching seemed to be a constant as she discovered life in a myriad of ways.  I was being taught myself.  I had an auburn haired part of my DNA who was part of me but not me.  I was learning who she was.  I distinctly remember Kindergarten.  In many ways it was a very somber time within me as I faced this stark reality.  The world will now have my daughter for six hours, five days a week.  Up until then, I decided what would make up her world.  I chose what would fill her little mind.  I purposefully nurtured her according to who she was.

I suppose in many ways, I'm feeling this sobering, inescapable fact right now.  But it travels even further.  It's not just that she spends time in the world's environment.  It's this very real reality that the world is calling my daughter's name.  Often and consistently, something other than home is vying for her attention.  My mother heart yearns to be that ever present filter and ongoing protector of her mind and heart.  At times my lips voice "yes" when my heart is screaming "no".  Regularly I am caught up in the drama of a moment, desperately searching for the right response.  Yes, she is still in need of my guidance and authority and nurturing.  I'm not giving up my mother-role by no means!  But I cannot always be the voice over her shoulder.  It is well within her age requirement to be learning a growing sense of independence.  It is important that she venture out and make her own decisions and make choices.

But I can't say I like it.  Truthfully, it scares me.  A lot.  I see the excitement in her eyes after a sleepover with friends.  I hear the frustration in her voice when we limit her adventures to non-alcoholic parties.  I hear the teenage angst of how much life sucks at times.   The song that the world sings to her is strong and clear and enticing.

This morning I sang another song in my place of worship.  Several songs actually...

"Fear not, for I am with you", says the Lord. 

"Glory, glory, Hallelujah He reigns."

"Why should I be afraid when You put the stars in place?
 Why should I lose heart when I know how great You are?
 You shine brighter than the brightest star--filling us with courage and hope to follow You."

My pastor spoke on Daniel and the strength of this truth tugged at my heart, "Yahweh is above all gods."

For that hour, I listened to His voice and feasted on His promises and drank in His power.  I need the wattage of these truthful reminders.  I need them often. I need them daily.

My baby girl is growing up.  I know this hasn't caught her Creator by surprise.  He's fully "in the know", and fully God. 

"O secret Christ,
Lord of the rose of dawn,
hide me within Thy silent peace,
that throughout the turmoil of day,
I may abide within the quiet of the daybreak."
--Anonymous  



 






 

A Cob of Corn and a Half Eaten Pita

Be forewarned, this post is not for those with weak stomachs.  If however, you are the Mom of a teenager, or are a "have been" or a "will be" Mom of a teen, you will no doubt appreciate this or at least be prepared for that "someday".  All other readers...this is comic relief at it's best, so enjoy!

My soon-to-be 18 year old son was asked by my Dad if he would mow their lawn while my parents were off on vacation.  He was happy to do so.  Tuesday evening, he informed us that since he had the following day off, he would be taking care of this job that day.  Because he is an avid cyclist, he was planning to bike to their home, which would be 45 minutes each way(by bike).  He told me he would not be home until between 1 and 2:00 as he figured in his time of departure, mowing the grass, etc.

As you may know, I have been working on this whole "letting go" business when it comes to my son.  Some days I do great at it, other days, I fail miserably.  But honestly...it's stink'n hard.  Mothering for me, is as natural as breathing.  It's a part of me.  I love to nurture and care and love my kids.  And so when my son told us he would be gone over lunch, I just automatically suggested he pack a lunch to take with him.  His response to me was one that I have been getting a lot of lately...sort of a mixture between exasperation-and-you-have-five-heads-kind-of-deal.  So, I did the "letting go" thing this time, and just let it be.  (Oh, he did mention something about taking a granola bar)

I was at an appt. when he got home yesterday afternoon, so was not privy to the first-come-first-serve details.  That went to his sister.

Okay, so I know you are waiting with baited breath, just as I can hardly type fast enough, to fill you in on the happenings.  I do need to factor in the temperature to this unfolding drama.  It was 42 degrees with the humidex yesterday.  Keep that in mind.

My son made it to his destination no problem.  But he was feeling pretty whipped as he mowed the grass.  His return trip however, was another story.  He came to a point where he could bike no longer...the energy completely sucked out of him.  He felt faint and although it was crazy hot, he had the chills  (Probably not a good sign).  So, my desperate son, stopped at the edge of a farmer's field, extracted a cob of SILAGE corn from the stalk and proceeded to eat it!!!!  He said he only ate half.   He continued to rest by the farmer's field as he waited for some spark of energy to return.  He then continued to proceed, but still very much in need of nourishment.  And this is where the half eaten pita comes in.  He found it lying on the side of the street of a small town he was passing through.  So...he ate it!!!!! 

Some of you, are completely disgusted by now(as was his sister), but me?  I laughed myself silly.  I was remembering my lunch suggestion, and picturing one totally desparate kid mowing down on less than appetizing fare.  Yes, I realize that we should all take a moment here and realize that food poisoning and who knows what else could be part of the this equation.  But it is now Thursday evening and he is alive and well, and so I am still laughing...every time I tell this story.  And trust me, it is a blast to  tell it each time.  Come to think of it,  maybe I'm not doing too badly at this "letting go" thing...my nurturing/caring ways are a little absent here :)

Will he pack a lunch next time?  Probably, but even if he doesn't, my endorphins have been having a major party these past couple days.

Hope yours enjoy a good dance as well!!!!!!!!

Extra Time

On mornings when I go for my workout, my son is usually still in bed...one of the benefits of having a spare first period.  It works out perfectly, because by the time I get home he is soon to head out the door for school.  I still get to say "Good morning"...pray with him and give him a hug and a kiss before he mounts his bike and is off for the day.

This past Monday morning, I was home in time for the above routine, and then walked into the house to get something he had forgotten.  My mouth fell open I am sure.  The dish tray which had been full when I left earlier, was EMPTY!  Not only empty, but it had been put away even!  I quickly looked to the table...all the breakfast items had been cleared off and put away...his breakfast dishes nowhere to be seen.  I went running out the door and said, "Cameron!!!!  You did the dishes for me!!!!  That means sooo much to me...Thankyou!!  His response?  "Well, I had some extra time."

Now, I'm not sure about you, but I don't know too many 17 year old boys, who, upon having extra time on their hands, opt to do the dishes for their Mom.  Lest I give the impression that this is completely out of the realm of impossible for my son to do something like this...it's not.  But let's face it...it's not exactly the norm.

Furthermore, there is some added information that seems pertinent here.  Cam's vocabulary has not had the words extra time, in it for weeks now.
1.  He is in his last year of high school and striving for University level marks
2.  He is the pianist for his school's musical "Footloose" being performed this week, and has had a truckload of piano practicing and rehearsals.
3. He also has his weekly piano lessons, youth, his job, etc.

What I'm trying to say is...his life has been insane these past few weeks, and it just blew me away, that he would think of me, and help me out, in his extra time!!!!

Yep, he's a keeper, alright.!  I still find myself thinking throughout my day about his gesture of kindness.  Inside, I just sort of sigh, and enjoy the moment all over again.

Oh...and the following morning, he grabbed a tea towel again, and started drying the dishes as I washed.  I called to my husband in a panicky tone, "Honey, I feel faint!"  He looked at me with great concern, and then saw the tea towel in our son's hand....and laughed.

"Cam", I said, "you're growing up."  To which he replied, "Yes I am."

I think I could get used to this  :)