Rebuilding What Is Broken

Parenting can be hard sometimes.

A dear friend of mine has had a devil of a time with her daughters. The tug-of-war with her ex-spouse hasn't helped either, but she's trying her best to maintain a somewhat stable relationship with them.

Kids sure need that - from both of their parents.

Can't tell you how many people I know who deal with the tug-of-war. In most cases it seems one spouse cannot let go of the other spouse - more likely their anger at the other spouse - and so use the kids to try and get back at their former squeeze.

It's never a pretty picture. The kids are the ones who usually end up so emotionally scarred from the battles, and you know what they say? Hurt people hurt people. The whole thing becomes a vicious cycle that can be perpetrated for generations to come.

One thing I've learned in watching my friend go through her battles is that at some point you have to let go of trying to understand or control the other individual. No, it isn't fair that he continues dragging her and the kids back through court all the time, but news flash! Life is never fair, and it's time more parents understood this.

Doesn't mean she just bends over and grabs the ankles. Doesn't mean she gives up on her kids. But somewhere along the line you have to decide what is ultimately going to be best for everyone, not just yourself.

My friend? She ended up letting her ex-husband have primary custody of her girls. You know what? One came back to her on her own volition. The relationship with the other one improved dramatically because the ex stopped fighting with her. No child support to fight over and no relationships to continue tearing apart.

Rebuilding what has been torn down is hard work. First there's the clean-up before reconstruction can begin. Then there's the preparation of the groundwork and laying of the foundations. None of it happens overnight.

But I think time is on their side.

Set Building Insights

Our second set build for the play was today.

Missed the first one when I was sick.

Since my son was at his dad's, I wasn't overly concerned about the time. Left the house at 9:30 this morning. Didn't return home until almost 4:30.

I'm beat.

But the thing is we had so much fun together. After we finished up with all we could do today, a couple of us decided to go out to a late, late (did I say late?) lunch. Haven't had that much fun in paint splatter for a long time. Ruth told me I really needed to join the Impact Players on a regular basis, but she understood that I couldn't just now. Choir is my commitment, but my plan is to get back into theatre more after my son is done with school.

That's only going to be two and ahalf years now. Can you believe it? I still remember the day the doctor placed him in my arms, I whispered his name, and he turned his head and looked at me with wide eyes. Gave me goosebumps then and the memory gives me goosebumps now. Seems like it was not all that long ago, but sixteen years passes so quickly when you're having fun.

But I digress.

For the last couple of years I've been realizing that my time as a needed mother is rapidly drawing to a close. That leaves me looking forward to the time that I can start pursuing some of my own interests again. When we have kids it is important for them to have as much of us as possible. When our kids are growing up it is their time - time for us to nurture them, guard their hearts and minds, guide them, and just plain enjoy life with them. It's that season of life when our priorities need to shift a little from "us" to "them".

Then once they flap their wings and fly from the nest it's time once again to nurture those interests that were placed upon the shelf for a time. Maybe they change. Maybe they don't seem all that important anymore. But then that gives us the opportunity to explore what we will do with the enormous amount of life still yet to live.

I'm going to look forward to more set builds in a few short years.

My Girl and Me

My mom sent me more pictures from this past summer. Here's one of my little great-niece and me in my sister's pool over Memorial Day weekend.

That weekend we had my grandma, my mom, my sister, my sister's daughter, and then my sister's granddaughter. Five generations were under one roof at the same time. Pretty amazing to think about.

Little Madison's initial reaction to the water reminded me a bit of when my son was little. When she first got in the water it was probably a little overwhelming (and cold!). She screamed and cried and clung to me, just like my son did at that age. Then I gradually let her get used to the water by splashing around a little bit, letting her splash at the water with her feet, and then finally just inching my way down into the water with her.

By that time, she was having so much fun splashing that she didn't realize she was all the way in the cold, big swimming pool. It was a completely adorable moment, and I was so glad to get to share that with her.

Haven't seen the cutie since Memorial Day weekend. I'm expecting to see my niece and great-niece over Labor Day weekend. She will probably have grown so much by then.

Little children do that, you know.

Decisions, Decisions

Decisions can be a funny thing. Sometimes there is no right or wrong answer, just the reasoning behind why we make the choices we do.

Many, many years ago, when my son was tiny, I made an important decision. I chose to put myself aside to focus on raising him. This meant that I gave up alot. Yet now I see how much I've gained by putting my son ahead of myself.

The main item I chose to give up was dating and finding Mr. "Right". Dating meant time away from my son, my already divided attentions between home and work divided even more. The one time I did date seemed to be more spent in jockeying two children instead of one (if you get my drift). Yes, I've had times of loneliness. Yes, I've had times where I questioned my decision. Yes, I've also questioned my ability to raise a son all alone. Yet I haven't been alone.

For some reason, God chose to bless me with an enormously important responsibility, one I did not take lightly. I was twenty-three at the time and he's nearing his sixteenth birthday. You do the math. There have been some horribly difficult years, but the wonderful years greatly outweigh the hard ones.

This past year has been an incredible time of growth and maturity for him in so many ways. He has three more years of school before he's off chasing his dreams. My time for influencing him is quickly waning, and these next three years will speed up and be gone in a flash. I've always said that if I can at least instill a sense of personal responsiblity in my son, then I will feel I have succeeded as a mother. We're nearly there.

And I will NEVER regret my decision to put my son before myself.

Off Into The Wild, Blue Yonder

Well they're gone, off into the wild, blue yonder.

My son just left on his big trip. I thought about going back to bed and getting a few more hours of sleep. Don't know why I thought that would be possible. A lot of hours flashed by on my clock during the night as I awoke frequently, fearful of not hearing my alarm and he missing their buses. That would have been a lot of anticipation and money down the drain.

We said our goodbyes here at home before going to the school. I didn't want to embarrass him, you know. His eyes held a teeny bit of apprehension, but the excitement greatly outweighed any fear. Suppose I'll hold onto it for him for the remainder of the week.

So while he's off galavanting across the greater Dallas area, I'll get some writing done and allow my mind to wander over the pages of my book. But first I think I'll try to go lay down for awhile again - my brain is starting to wander off.

It likes to go on trips too from time to time.

Another Milestone

My guts have turned into butterflies. My son leaves early tomorrow morning for his big school choir trip to Dallas. He's excited. I'm nervous. Not sure why. Wait a minute - I think I do.

It isn't that I don't think he can handle it. My son has traveled extensively with me when I go on business trips. He's been to Alaska, California, Colorado, Texas, D.C., etc., etc., etc., knows his way through navigating airports and baggage claim, and is rather adept at getting places with everything he needs and returning home with everything he took (and then some). No, I have a feeling he's going to be just fine in that regard. The problem seems to be all mine.

I have to let go of my need to control.

You see, I'm a planner by nature for more reasons than one. I've spent most of his life trying to protect him as much as possible from the chaos that seems to follow me. Experiences are a very important component of life, but when I'm the one planning the experiences I'm also the one who controls it to (hopefully) avoid the possibility of a bad experience. Just being able to be a kid is important, and I've tried to guard him from the worries and cares of life - he's faced more things in his short years than most adults do in a lifetime.

This trip is a milestone for both of us then. None of his buds are in the choir. He's rooming with guys I don't know. Someone else will be responsible for the well-being of my son. I want SO BADLY for this to be a positive and wonderful experience, but that is no longer up to me.

I thought about going as a sponsor when the trip was announced earlier this school year. Decided not to. We talked about it, and he's happy to be going on his own (i.e. without me). But he needs this. He needs to know that he can be responsible for himself. He needs to know that he can have a good time without old mother-dear holding his hand so he can cross the street (Disclaimer - I haven't done that in a long time, okay). He's going to do more than survive this trip; he's going to flourish!

I'll just be so glad to hear about it when he comes back home Sunday night. By then, he'll probably be too tired to talk about it.

Early Morning Resurrection

I hate getting up early in the mornings. It isn't just that I hate it - I actually truly loathe it with a passion bordering on insanity. My body doesn't begin to function properly until at least 9:00, though I have to get up at 6:00 most mornings. The fact that my house has yet to burn down as I cook breakfast in a stupor is a testament to God's grace. Now if only someone could figure out how to administer coffee intravenously by my bedside.

As the school year winds down, my son is preparing for his big choir trip to Dallas. They've had two 7:00 am rehearsals already and will leave later this week. I found out Sunday at his choir performance that they have to be at the school by 5:00 - that's five o'clock in the morning. Be there at five o'clock in the morning! AM - which means we have to be up and around by 4:00 at the latest. Yes, that's right four o'clock in the morning. Why bother going to bed, eh?

Oh, what we do for our children.

At one time in his life, my son was a chipper early-morning riser. Seeing his toothy grin and hearing his babbling gibberish made the early morning disturbance worthwhile. Now that he's in the full throes of puberty, he can be pretty difficult to awaken of a morning. However, for the last couple of weeks, he's been Mr. Chipper all over again. I think he's actually looking forward to getting up at 4:00 am. Of course, it also helps that the girl to guy ratio for the trip is like nine to one.

But strange as it may be, I'm actually looking forward (in a bizzare, sick, and convoluted way) to getting up to see him off. By the time I was his age, I was a seasoned traveler, but this will be his first big trip that he's taken without me in tow - another one of the milestone moments of his life. It's very important to me that he feels comfortable stretching the umbilical cord.

Raising independent children is an important responsibility. Our job as parents is to allow our children experiences where they can explore life as we gradually adjust them to the process of leaving the nest. Then when they are old enough to leave, they will truly be capable of caring for themselves on their own out in the big, wide world. That's when we know we've done our job properly.

In the meantime, I'll continue to put myself out by being resurrected at four o'clock in the morning. Sympathy is appreciated.

Priorities, Priorities, Those Pesky Priorities

Sometimes it's hard to put our children's needs ahead of our own desires.

The Russian Ballet with the Russian Symphony is coming to town this weekend. It doesn't happen often. My best friend will be playing percussian with them. The symphony is playing the opera "Faust" on Saturday and then the two will perform the ballet "Sleeping Beauty" on Sunday afternoon. This Sunday afternoon. At 3:00. The exact same time of my son's big choir performance.

Yes, I almost cried.

At one time in my life (looooooong ago, in a far-away land) pointe shoes were merely an extension of my own skin. My feet felt naked and in the winter without them. I lived for the moment my toes slipped into the shoes, snapped the elastic against my skin, tenderly enveloped my ankles with pink, satin ribbon, then leapt and bounded across the dance floor. They traveled with me wherever I went. I wanted to be a prima ballerina. Alas, it was not to be.

I still love the rare occasion when I have the chance to attend a ballet performance of excellence. No offense to my dear fellow Americans, but the Russians have been and probably always will be the premier performer of ballet. So when I found out they were going to be here, I pulled out the checkbook and quickly calculated the cost to attend.

Until my son reminded me of his performance this Sunday. This Sunday at exactly the same time. Oh it hurts like a dagger through the heart, like the agony of thirst unquenched, like the...okay, I'll stop the melodramatics.

Still, over the years I've given up so much for my little man. I'm happy to do it. This is his time to shine. This is his time to excel. My time will come again someday, so it's time for me to live vicariously through the wonderful performances of my son. This just could be the leaping point for his own career aspirations, and I want to be a part of the incredible journey. It will only be a few more years now until he's off chasing his dream on his own.

There will be plenty of time then for the ballet, probably more time to myself than I'd imagined. Let there be no regrets when that time comes.

I need to stop now and go pull out my old pointe shoes.