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There You'll Be
Faith Hill: There You'll Be: The Best of Faith Hill
This song was particularly inspirational when my first novel was published in 2002. I couldn't have made this journey without incredible support and I used this song to express my gratitude.
Please visit my new author site and blog at www.staciwilder.com! Be sure to sign in with a comment between now and the end of April and you'll be entered into a drawing for a $50 shopping spree to Bath & Body Works! One entry per comment - so comment often!
See ya at the new place!
- Staci
It began in May of 2004.
I had been hearing of "blogs" for some months and, Curious George that I am, I did some research, decided that having my own space in the blogosphere might be fun AND productive for my writing, and I reached out and claimed a spot just for me.
The past three and a half years have brought many changes, both in my professional life and in my personal life. I have to say that the posts on motherhood and family life have been my most favorite to write. The boys were just beginning high school when I blogged for the first time and now they are both away at college. I had two books published back in 2004 and now I have four. We've moved. I've gone back to college. Mike has become a private pilot. And I'm registered to run my first 5K this fall.
Through all of these life changes, I'd like to believe that I've only grown and matured and - hopefully - become each day more and more of the woman that God intends for me to be. Although I've posted on virtually every aspect of my life in the past few years, I truly hope that what has come through the clearest is my deep faith in God. Without Him, I lack strength of my own and everything - EVERYTHING - that I am or ever hope to be is without a doubt a gift from Him.
So it is with some hesitation, and a bit of sadness, that I announce this will be the last blog post from Glimpses. I have loved sharing with you, my friends and my readers, and who knows? - maybe I'll blog again one day. But right now I feel strongly that my attention and efforts need to be streamlined a bit. It is all too easy for me to procrastinate on my writing or put off homework for another hour or two - all in the name of blogging.
With the boys now at college and settling into their new lives, I've been taking a careful examination of my priorities and where I need to direct attention most. Two big things are on my horizon: I go back to full-time writing on Monday, the 27th, after taking the summer off and I begin fall classes the very next day, on the 28th. I want to take full advantage of this time in my life, soaking up each extra hour I'll now have with Mike, and savoring the rewards that come from a full days spent writing and attending classes.
Blogging has given me an outlet, a place to express my thoughts and feelings, and a way to sharpen some writing skills, all the while making myself accessible to readers and to friends. While I will no longer be blogging, I still want to communicate with you. Some of you are readers that I've met through my books. You'll never know how much your emails have meant to me. Please - always feel free to email me whenever you want. My friends can attest - I'm a really faithful emailer!
And for my friends - well, you know I'll still be around. I'll still have four-thousand, seven-hundred, sixty-four pictures to share with you, and I'll still be there for mid-class texts, funny emails, the occasional long lunch, and plenty of "The Gang" time!
With God's help and with a whole lot of will power and sheer effort, I plan have several new books for you to read and enjoy in the next twelve months. If you'd like to be put on an email list and be alerted when a new book comes out, please pop me a line and I'll add you right away. A quarterly e-newsletter will still go out to all those on this list.
Thank you for sharing this journey with me! I wouldn't have traded it for anything.
Staci (a.k.a. Glimpses)
It's 5:30 in the morning and I'm up early, knowing that Round Two of The Moves is just ahead. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee downstairs is luring me and I'll sit in the quiet, still dark living room and enjoy a couple of cups before pulling on my workout clothes and putting today's walk behind me.
My morning prayers have been whispered as well, in the stillness of my bedroom, as I awoke with, both, a sense of delightful anticipation and a sad pang of...well, something I couldn't quite put my finger on.
Today Jorge moves to his own College Town and today will probably go much like Monday did. The exception is that, for this drive, Jorge will be in the car with me and we will have HOURS to talk on the way. Don't you know he's going to love that? Don't ALL eighteen year olds love this kind of trapped-and-can't-get-out-cause-we're-driving kind of conversations with their moms?
But in all honesty, all the heavy conversations are behind us. The past weeks and months have been dotted with conversations around our house. Conversations where we've given advice, shared tips, communicated concerns, and mostly just tried to prepare this second son for the adventure that awaits him.
So now he's ready and, amazingly, so am I. Though I can't deny the tears that refused to stay bottle any longer last night and I gave in and let my heart and mind explore the changes that are enveloping our family and our home, when the tears dried and my heart was still, I only felt joy.
Deep, true joy. Jorge will be fine. This next step in his life will mold him and help to shape him and his future. And I will still be right here, always ready to talk whenever and wherever he might need me.
In the meantime, I'm doing my best to take a step back and let him grow up and venture out, knowing that we've instilled in him a deep faith and equipped him with an everlasting hope.
And as for this Empty Nest thing, well as someone so aptly put it, "how can a nest be empty if it's filled with good things?" And my nest is filled with many, many wonderfully enticing things. Love, hope, friendship and a safe place for us all.
So, Mike Baby, when I pick you up at the airport tonight, I'll be the woman with the party hat stuck on her head and the big, goofy grin on her face, okay?
Let's get this adventure started!
Our day began early. 3:30 a.m., to be exact.
Mike had an early morning flight to New Orleans, where he is scheduled to teach training sessions and call on customers for the next few days. By 4:20 he is showered, dressed, and out the door. I can tell that he is hesitant to leave and the words left unspoken between us are many.
The next time I see him will be when I pick him up at the San Antonio airport. By then I will have delivered both sons to their respective college campuses and life as we now know it will be altered.
A mere few hours later and Nate and I are staring down two loaded-to-capacity vehicles. His Mustang and our van.
I wave him good-bye, telling him I'll be just a little way behind him on the highway. The truth, though, is that I could use just a few more minutes to acclimate to the coming hours and days.
Today is moving day for Nate and, by the looks of everything that is carefully packed and stacked into our cars, he is ready. Releasing him to another year away at school is somewhat easier this year. He has one year under his belt and the adjustment period for him will be minor, I know.
And yet my mother's heart feels tight and constricted within my chest. I slowly down a final cup of coffee, check last minute emails and - basically - stall the inevitable. It's time for me to climb behind the wheel and make the three hour drive to deliver the furniture and help Nate settle into what has become his life.
A life I am immensely proud of, even as I swipe at tears and will my worries to vacate the premises. He is no longer a child, but a capable, strong, and intelligent young man. He's made numerous references this summer to the internships he looks forward to next summer and I know - though I may try so hard to ignore it - that life is shifting for us all. Nate is claiming his future, taking responsibility and working toward something that he is passionate about.
For this I am grateful.
Once behind the wheel, I pull through Sonic for that crucial Diet Coke, stick in my new favorite CD, crank up the volume, and hit the highway. By the time I'm on the long stretch between home and the campus that has become a second home to this family, I'm snapping my fingers and bee-bopping my head to the music blasting inside the van and coursing through my heart. This is what I'm singing along to.
I pull into College Town a few hours later, with a renewed happy heart and a secure knowledge that my life - and the lives of those I love - is in the best possible care ever.
My Father's hands.
"Are you okay?" Mike paused and turned, his overnight bag in one hand, his computer bag in the other.
I stood in the open doorway and nodded, doing my best to answer honestly. Not so much for his sake, as for my own.
"This is the beginning, isn't it?" I met his eyes and forced a smile I didn't totally feel. Not yet at least.
"It is." He hesitated and I waved him on, knowing that no words would ease me through the next few days. Time - I just needed a little time, and that's what this week would be for. Four days alone to adjust to the fact that in less than a week Mike and I would have The Empty Nest.
I watched as he climbed into the van, where Jorge was already waiting in the passenger seat. I had stood in this same doorway hours earlier, waving to Nate as he backed out of the driveway, headed back to campus to finalize all of the paperwork on his housing for this school year.
The plan was that, since Mike was working this week in the Houston area, that all three of my guys would hang together for a couple of days. After some good male bonding, the boys will head off on their own for a last minute get-away to Galveston. By the time they return on Friday night, only the weekend will remain before they pack and leave for their respective campuses and school year.
My plan was a simple one. Spend the time shopping for the last minute things they'll each need for their apartment and dorm, get their laundry caught up, and - maybe most importantly - spend the time in thought and prayer as I prepare to send my boys out into the world without me.
What has surprised me most this week is that I'm ready for this. As I sat at dinner with three close girlfriends on Monday night, I knew not only that I am prepared, but that the boys are too.
"I've done all that I can do. Now I have to trust that I've taught them well. It's up to them now."
As I heard myself speaking these words, a mighty calm settled over this mother's heart. It was true, and there is serenity in this knowledge. Both Nate and Jorge are equipped to handle whatever Life may bring their way. They will struggle and fight and play and laugh, and then struggle some more. They'll jump the same hurdles and navigate the same mazes we all have to jump and navigate. But they are ready for this.
And so am I.
For the past twenty years I have been someone's mother. Sure, I am wife, daughter, friend, writer, and student. I have numerous hobbies and interests. My life is full and fun.
But the stark truth is that for the past two decades it is the role of MOM that has defined me. It has been my breath when other things in Life has knocked me to my knees. It has been my joy when dark clouds hovered overhead. It has been my strength when I felt weak and imcompetent.
See, motherhood takes no vacations. There are no sick days, no mental health days, no part-time status, and it absolutely accepts NO resignations. And you're never fired from the job, for certain!
For every decision I've made about my own life, I've made three or four for the boys' lives. For every worry I've endured for my own set of circumstances, I've agonized endlessly over my sons' problems. For every dream I've had the courage to dream for myself, I've braved taller mountains and more treacherous valleys to dream the mighty things in Life into being for my boys.
Motherhood is what I do.
And yet - I feel the subtle, soft winds of change begin to wisp through my soul this week and I am so very, very okay with it. The house is quiet around me, most certainly a whispered prelude to the weeks and months and years to come.
But instead of the dreaded stillness that I had envisioned, I only feel tranquility and I have to wonder...is this too a whisper? A soft promise of wonderful things that - even now - lie just on the horizon of all our lives?
On this third day of alone time and speculation, with the boys' stuff piled into two distinct sections downstairs in the dining room, I feel tingles of deep anticipation.
Excitement.
Joy.
This is not an ending, by any means. It's truly the "beginning," just as I had phrased it earlier in the week to Mike. Same story, just a whole new chapter. A new adventurous chapter for them, and a delicious new chapter for us.
I feel certain there is happy reading ahead for all us.
Nate's stuff - Move date: Monday, August 13th - Second year SAM!
Jorge's stuff: Move date - Wednesday, August 15th - FRESHMAN!
Dear Me in 1983,
I'm sure that receiving a letter from me is the last thing you expected, huh? I can practically read your mind. Though I must seem impossibly old and out-of-date, considering that you are fifteen and a freshman in high school, here's the deal. I see you struggling with so many things right now - things like love, friendships, and your purpose in life. If I had it my way I'd fix it all and pave the way smooth and straight for you. Unfortunately, life doesn't work like that and, in the long run, you'll be happy that it doesn't. You'll find your own way in time, though you'll grow mighty impatient in the process.
You've only been out of the back brace for a few months now, but you still haven't become accustomed to the fact that it's not tightly fastened around your torso, holding your spine securely in place. The many months spent wearing it and feeling curious eyes upon you as you walked the school halls in dresses two sizes larger (to accommodate the brace) still plague you. I know it seems as though you're the square peg trying desperately to fit into a round hole, but the reality is that all of your friends are also square pegs in disguise and - if the truth be known - there are no round holes.
Life is the great equalizer. But that's another truth that you won't learn for some years. In the meantime, treasure your friends, even when it feels like they are loving you one day and whispering behind your back the next. Girls are funny like that, but they truly mean no harm. These same girls will one day grow up with very real needs and you will be one of the ones they turn to to help them pray. How're you going to pray for them if you allow bitterness and fear to creep in now?
You are a true romantic at heart, with a vivid imagination and a passion for something deep from life. Right now you think that finding love will be much like your daydreams and that this passion is meant to be spent on this elusive special person. I wish I had the words to gently tell you that real life love and passion are quite different than what you are finding on the pages of the novels we both love so much. They are no less real, or exciting, or breath-takingly terrifying - just...different.
Right now you feel like the traditional ugly duckling and you are sure that no boy, let alone any man, will ever want you for his own. But baby, this is just not true. I want to tell you to be patient, but I know you will not be. You'll make decisions because you feel like there just aren't enough choices. You'll feel like Life is going to just zoom right on by you and you'll be left behind and alone, so you will leap before looking a few times. It will hurt, I hate to say it, but you will survive and you will learn that Life is much bigger than you give it credit for. You will be a grown woman with babies of your own when you finally realize this, but that's okay. It is during these years that God becomes vibrantly real to you and you will be a woman forever changed.
You WILL find great love and great passion, but it will come in a way you never expected. This love will fulfill you and grow you, both, as a woman and as a human being. Your life will be better for having been touched by this love and, in turn, the love you give in response will be a blessing as well. You will learn that love is a multi-dimensional thing and that, when left in God's hands, it will continue to grow and thrive and excite and endure. Nothing can stop it, nothing can alter it. It just is. You already know that you have a heart that is meant to care and to shelter and to give. Protect that heart and just rest in the knowledge that - in good time, GOD's time - your heart will find it's permanent home. Again, it won't necessarily be like you are expecting. It'll be much better. I promise.
I know you envision yourself one day cuddling a daughter, but - guess what? You'll become a mother to two little boys. Even though you'll have to forego the hair bows, the Martha Miniatures, and the baby dolls, you will find endless delight and joy in these two blond-headed wonders. They will try you to no end at times, that much is for sure, but being their mom will be the best thing you will ever do. They will grow up SO fast. Do your best to treasure each moment, each milestone. Before you know it, they will be leaving home for college and you will have to release them, praying and trusting that they'll always remember some basic truths you've endeavored to instill in them. Truths that you, yourself, have yet to discover.
You know how you write in your diary each night? How many diaries have you filled up in your fifteen years, anyway? A lot, I know that! There will be a good many years when you give up writing down your thoughts, your hopes, and your dreams. Life will become tough and complicated and keeping a daily or weekly record of it all will be the last thing on your agenda. But then one day you'll begin to write again. And this time you won't stop. Journal entries will turn into essays and essays will turn into articles that you'll eventually - hesitantly - submit for publication. After a few of them make it into print, you'll grow brave enough to tackle the stories that have always lived inside of you. Characters like Grandma Hogan, Grace, Jackson, and Ella and Luke will come to life on the computer screen in front of you. They will bless you as you pour yourself into making their stories into books for others to read and to share. It will be your hope that these stories will encourage and uplift, that they will point others to truths that God shows you while you spend so many solitary hours in writing.
You'll one day be living your dream. But it will be for real, and it will be yours. Your future is bright and beautiful. The tough times will soften you. The scary times will bolster you. The loving times will deepen you. What you will eventually embrace is that you are "fearfully and wonderfully made." Psalm 139:14 will become YOUR verse. If I could tell you anything right now, it would be to trust God. Laugh, love, and live your life. It's really that simple. Everything else has a way of working itself out. You are going to be fine. No, wait. You are going to be more than fine.
Love and prayers,
Your 2007 Self
Today is Friday, the third day of August, and I - Staci Wilder - just completed my first week of 5K training! Only...<gulp> EIGHT. MORE. gut-wrenching, sweat-drenching delightful. WEEKS.
Eight.
I can do this.
In honor of this effort, and the efforts of women everywhere who are trying to fight their way to fitness, here's something to make us all smile! Enjoy!
A WEEK AT THE GYM: ONE WOMAN'S STORY
"Hm."
Mike cut his eyes in my direction as I took out my newly purchased black sunglasses from Charlotte Russe and slid them into place as we backed out of our driveway.
"What?" I feigned innocence, even though I know this man well enough to know just exactly where his thoughts were headed. The new sunglasses were not, um..a hit.
"All I can say is that you better not be wearing those and start making any sudden buzzing sounds. I may have to swat you with a damp dishtowel!"
Now to truly understand and even appreciate this feeble attempt at making fun of my oversized sunglasses, you'd have to live in North Texas and be experiencing the "summer of the flies", as it's come to be called around our house. They are everywhere this year and seem to have a much longer life expectancy than those of my childhood. Mike gave up on traditional fly swatters and has been having much better luck with swinging his damp dishtowel. More than one poor fly has been caught unaware, and now I, myself, had just been put on notice.
So I did the only thing a girl can do in such a situation. I placed the blame elsewhere. "Well! Dawn made me buy them!"
But I have to admit, I was laughing by this time and even had to agree. I did look a bit like a fly. I had stood, just hours before, in the store with Dawn as we tried on pair after pair after pair of these sunglasses.
"I don't know." I was dubious, at best. "I just don't think I can bring myself to wear these - they're HUGE!"
"That's the style! Everybody's wearing them." Never mind the fact that Dawn looks like a rock star in hers while I resemble...well, a FLY!
"I know, I know. But look - they take up half my face!"
"Just think of it as me giving you a hug every time you wear them."
Since Dawn is one of my best friends and since we live hundreds of miles apart and since these shopping days are few and far between...
I bought TWO pair - one in black and one in brown. A girl's gotta match, you know...
I am from wooden clothespins, from large boxes of powdered Tide and freshly laundered clothes hung out on the line in the backyard to dry.
I am from the cozy 3-bedroom, 2-bath home on Bayshore Dr., where pink & red shag carpet lined my bedroom wall-to-wall. I am from the Mimosa trees in the front yard, the tree house in the back, and from the red rose bushes with the awful thorns that grew each Spring on the side of the house.
I am from neighborhood get-togethers, from summertime homemade ice cream, and from Vienna Sausages and pork 'n beans eaten at roadside parks while on vacations. I am from Rudy and Nancy, from Glen and Leona, and from Dewie and Marie.
I am from days of playing Nancy Drew, singing along to vinyl-coated 45s, and crushing on Parker Stevenson and Shaun Cassidy.
I'm from Barbies and a baby doll named Rosie, but I'm also from the land of Legos, army men, Evel Knievel - and anything else my younger brother happened to be doing.
I am from readers and learners, from hard workers, from tin lunch boxes and a leaky Thermos. I am from stubborness and bull-headedness, from loud talking, from genorosity and from laughter.
I am from the small pink-bricked United Pentecostal Church in the heart of town. The one that many perceived to be on the wrong side of the tracks, but the very one where Easter picnics, spaghetti suppers, and hour-long messages from a dear silver-headed preacher make up some of my most prized childhood memories.
I'm from Texas, through and through, from gulfshore streams to the Piney woods, and right here to the bustling metroplex. I'm from history buffs, story tellers, and lovers of all things Christmas-y.
I am from "perserverence and persistence" and from "love God and love others." I'm from recycled plastic ware and grocery sacks, long before "going green" was the going thing.
I am from school carnivals and sleep-overs, from family holidays with turkey and cornbread dressing and Pepto-Bismol and cousins camped out on pallets in the den. I'm from memories tucked away in cedar chests, from weightless wonders of hand-sewn quilts. I am from hope and happiness.
was...this!
Yeah, baby!
Okay, she really brought back way more than this fabulous DC for me, but - as you can imagine - I'm tickled pink by this! Thanks, Rochelle! I love ya! Click here to read all about Ro's amazing trip.
A close friend sent this to me a few weeks ago. I stuck it in a "to be saved" file and came across it again today. I think it is most blog-worthy...Enjoy!
________________________________________________________
1. Your thumb is nearest you. So begin your prayers by praying for those closest to you. They are the easiest to remember. To pray for our loved ones is, as C. S. Lewis once said, a "sweet duty."
2. The next finger is the pointing finger. Pray for those who teach, instruct and heal. This includes teachers, doctors, and ministers. They need support and wisdom in pointing others in the right direction. Keep them in your prayers.
3. The next finger is the tallest finger. It reminds us of our leaders. Pray for the president, leaders in business and industry, and administrators. These people shape our nation and guide public opinion. They need God's guidance.
4. The fourth finger is our ring finger. Surprising to many is the fact that this is our weakest finger, as any piano teacher will testify. It! should remind us to pray for those who are weak, in trouble or in pain. They need your prayers day and night. You cannot pray too much for them.
5. And lastly comes our little finger - the smallest finger of all which is where we should place ourselves in relation to God and others. As the Bible says, "The least shall be the greatest among you." Your pinkie should remind you to pray for yourself. By the time you have prayed for the other four groups, your own needs will be put into proper perspective and you will be able to pray for yourself more effectively. !
"You are not here merely to make a living. You are here in order to
enable the world to live more amply, with greater vision, with a finer spirit of hope and achievement. You are here to enrich the world, and you impoverish yourself if you forget the errand."
Woodrow Wilson
28th President of the United States
______________________________________________
"I've got mail. Again."
I held up the oversized envelope bearing the Donaldson logo, addressed to me, and grinned.
Mike shook his head. "They sure know what they're doing, don't they?"
I reached inside the envelope and pulled out a beautiful glossy 14 month calendar. Emblazoned across the cover was a breathtaking picture of Cruz Bay in the Virgin Islands. Inside were 13 more photos, along with island recipes, trivia, and information.
In January of this year we began to receive a package in the mail every month or so from Mike's company. Labeled "Incentive Package," these oversized envelopes contained all kinds of good things and it became rather exciting to spot yet another one in the mailbox and then rip excitedly into it as soon as we were inside the house.
Inside the packages were numberous momentos - calendars, paper weights, postcards, and letters - all bearing images of the Virgin Islands, along with the constant reminder: "Meet me in reef!"
The reminder was of Donaldson's sales contest. For each territory manager that met a certain sales goal PLUS for the 2007 fiscal year would receive an all-expense, six-day five-night paid trip for TWO to the beautiful island of St. Thomas. These photos and island recipes that kept finding their way to our mailbox were certainly appealing. It was rather easy to see why the packages were clearly labeled "incentive."
But the amazing thing is that each of these packages is addressed to me, Mike's spouse, and all the goodies inside? Yep, that's right. They're meant for me. Marketed to appeal to a woman's love of all things island-like, I - along with the other wives - continued to receive incentives in the mail.
Incentives that would, no doubt, help us to spark a fire beneath our spouses in an effort to make this year wildly successful and profitable. Certainly profitable enough to earn us a trip to St. Thomas.
That is - if incentives worked like that in our home. I've thought a lot about this these past few months and I'm just not sure that they do.
The boys have received an allowance since they were preteens and began to need money in order to have the occasional hang-out time with their friends. It was generally a set amount and fairly regular, but not really associated with chores or responsibilities.
That's because, around here, chores and responsibilities are expected and required simply because, hey, you're a member of this household and we all pitch in to help get things done. Cleaning your room and swabbing out your toilet every once in a while do not a big fat wallet guarantee.
Some weeks the chore load may seem mighty light and, yet others, it may seem downright unfair. But the payoff is that things keep humming around here as they should, not that the end result is more green in the hands of our kids. So if money is not the incentive to do what is expected around here, then what IS?
The wrath of Mom? The possibility of having your week's worth of dirty laundry tossed out? The fear of having your weekend plans put on permanent pause if the yard is not tended by the time you're set to go out?
I'd like to say that the incentive is that it just feels good to do a good job at something that has been assigned to you. You remember, don't you, nothing feels better than a job well done. But more than likely it's one of the above, and I'll take that. Sometimes it takes a while to layer in all the ingredients necessary to create an awesome character. As a mom, I'm acting on faith that all of the chores performed in the past ten years will someday, somehow, play a role in molding responsible, conscientious men out of my boys.
What Donaldson may or may not know yet about Mike is that they didn't have to hang a nice, attractive carrot in front of him to get him to perform. He - truly - IS the same yesterday, today, and forever. Not quite like Jesus, but you get what I mean...He is going to put in just as much time, sweat, and energy with the client who will spend a hundred bucks as he will with the company likely to place a triple digit order. He's just that way. Born and bred to work hard, work diligently, and work faithfully. He'll be happy to win the trip, I'm sure, but he'll be just fine if he doesn't.
And me? Well, I'm sticking to my belief that the best possible reward for a job well done is the good 'ol feeling you get down deep inside, knowing that you've given a job your all. But I think I will finish this post and log a few miles on the treadmill. You know, just in case I find myself vacationing someplace exotic like - I don't know, the VIRGIN ISLANDS - come this November.
Hmm...maybe those Donaldson folks DO know what they're doing, after all! What about you? What - or WHO - motivates YOU?
Sometimes I'm amazed by how much I enjoy being a parent of teen-agers. I don't think I expected to find this much pleasure, during these years. But I do.
At 19 and 18, it delights me -- sometimes it just really surprises me -- to realize that they are distinct individuals who no longer mimic my opinions, views, or thoughts. My goodness -- they have minds of their own, and aren't afraid to use them!
Granted, that's not always a good thing! Seems that a quick retort, smart mouth, and an intense desire to have the last word were bonuses that came unneatly packaged with the free-thinking, individualistic teen I originally bargained for.
But somewhere in the last few years-- long after I finally realized that I had to look up to talk to them while standing and, when hugging them good-bye each morning, my cheek now rests against their chests -- it's occured to me that these two delightfully unique guys are turning into men right in front of my eyes. And not just men - but men that I'm proud to say belong to me. Men that, as long as they continue to keep God first in their lives, will take responsibility, not only for their own lives, but for the world around them.
Of course, the next several years are crucial ones. I'm not naive enough to believe that the hard stuff is behind us, or that this free-thinking individual that so enamours me right now might not use that same individuality to drive me nuts with worry or fear in the future. There's still some shaping to be done by us, their parents, and there's still plenty of emotions, goals, and directives that will ride that proverbial roller coaster of uncertainty, indecisiveness, and insecurities.
But I'm enjoying the ride. And -- while I don't want to rush the "now", I have to admit I look forward to seeing the end result.
I came across this a while back. I don't know the original author, but I like the way he/she thinks:
Eleven Simple Rules for Teens
1. Life is not fair - get used to it.
2. The world won't care about your self-esteem. The world will expect you to accomplish something BEFORE you feel good about yourself.
3. You will NOT make $40,000 a year right out of high school. You won't be vice-president with a car phone, until you earn both.
4. If you think your teacher is tough, wait till you get a boss. He doesn't have tenure.
5. Flipping burgers is not beneath your dignity. Your grandparents had a different word for burger flipping - they called it opportunity.
6. If you mess up, it's not your parents' fault, so don't whine about your mistakes, learn from them.
7. Before you were born, your parents weren't as boring as they are now. They got that way by paying your bills and cleaning your clothes. So before you save the rain forests of the world from the parasites of your parents' generation, try delousing the closet in your own room.
8. Your school may have done away with winners and losers, but life has not. In some schools, they have abolished failing grades and they'll give you multiple chances to get the right answer. This doesn't bear the slightest resemblance to ANYTHING in real life.
9. Life is not divided into semesters. You don't get summers off and very few employers are interested in helping you find yourself. Do that on your own time.
10. Television is NOT real life. In real life people actually have to leave the coffee shop and go to jobs. (Seriously.)
11. Be nice to nerds. Chances are you'll either end up working for one -- or falling in love with one!
Nathan & ChaCha
This is a picture of Amy, Nate, and Jorge on the day that Mike and I married. The day these three young people became siblings. For better for for worse.
As a young adult and an only child, Amy was thrilled to have two new younger brothers. She has doted on them from Day One. Truly, I think they can do no wrong in her eyes.
And Nate and Jorge - well, suffice it to say that they were more than just a little enamored of their new big sis. At 10 and 11 years old, they loved her unconditionally and completely.
Even so, as Mike and I blended our families we were faced with a lot of unknowns, and knew that we were in tricky territory. We approached it the only way we knew how - on our knees. While we had made the decision to have and to hold, to love and to honor, we knew we could place no such expectations upon our children and upon their relationship with one another and with us, as step-parents.
While there have certainly been the ordinary trials and tribulations of parenting teens, I know we've been blessed. As I joined the Wilder family, Amy had no need for another mother and I never tried to be that maternal figure in her life. Instead, we very quickly settled into a friendship that is deep, loving, and enduring. I am one of her confidants and feel honored each time she shares with me. She is an amazing woman who has since married an equally amazing guy and is mother to the two little lights in my life - Carter and Kendall.
Nate and Jorge have spent the entirety of their teen years with some excellent role models - their sister and her husband. It has been such a privilege as a woman to sit back and watch these relationships develop and mature as the years have peeled away. They have observed Paul and Amy graduating from college, marrying, and striving to achieve their personal goals and dreams. I love to listen as Paul interacts with the boys - he has a talent for drawing them out in conversation, and I know that this is because of the immense respect they have for him.
So here we are - years later - with Amy grown, married, and the mother of two toddlers. Nate is nineteen and Jorge is eighteen. Our family is once again in transition mode - this time this change of life is bringing Mike and I frightening (or is it gloriously?) close to the Empty Nest Stage as both boys will be living away from home on collge campuses come fall.
Because of this and also just because we love them and think the world of all of them, MIke and I decided last summer to take the entire family on vacation this year. In the morning, all eight of us will be on a 7:00 a.m. flight to Florida for one fun-filled, exciting week at Disney, at Cocoa Beach, and anywhere else in the area our kiddos decide they need to see.
While I am so looking forward to seeing the Magic Kingdom through Carter and Kendall's eyes, and while - like Nate - I'm anxious to relax beachside with a great book and plenty of sunscreen, I must say that what thrills me most is the fact that for the first time ever OUR FAMILY will be spending nights together underneath ONE roof.
We have rented a 4-bedroom, 3-bath vacation pool home that will be our home-away-from-home for the next seven days. I can hardly wait for the sound of our three children as they talk, laugh, and share this very special time in our blended family history.
Life often throws us curve balls and presents us with scenarios that change and morph almost as often as we change our clothes. And yet - for THIS time - for THESE precious days ahead of me, I intend to do nothing except absorb the love that binds this unit together. The kids have grown and developed and changed as the years have gone by, but one thing has remained the same.
Mike and I still approach this blended family the same way we have since Day One. On our knees.
And as I finish my packing in the next few minutes and retire for the night in anticipation of an early rising, my heart is overflowing with gratitude to my God for blessing me with these marvelous people.
The people I call FAMILY.
Nana: Kendall Kate, who are you going on vacation with?
Kendall (who is snuggled in Pops' lap while I sit on the floor next to them): I'm going wij YOU! (she reaches down and points to me)
Nana: Yes you are! Hey, can we take Pops with us?
Kendall: Yas. (Think 'yes' but in Kendall-ese)
Nana: Oh good. What about Carter? Can we take Carter with us?
Kendall (nodding): Yas. And...da boyz.
Nana: Great! So we'll take Pops and Carter and the boys. Hey, let's take your parents too. Can they go?
Kendall: No. (shakes blonde curls emphatically) They can't go.
Nana: What? Are you serious? Come on, let's take your mom and dad too, okay?
Kendall: No. No.
Nana: Really? Huh...Hey, listen. What characters do you want to see at Disney?
Kendall: I want to see Sinnerella, Seeping Booty, and Belle. And...da boyz.
Nana: I see, all the Princesses, huh? And the boys. You're glad Uncle Nate and Uncle Jorge will be along, aren't you?
Kendall: (nods again)
Nana: Okay, sounds good. We're going to have SO much fun! (pause) Hey, Kendall. Let's take your mom and dad with us. Okay?
Kendall: No. They. Can't. Come.
Nana: Are you kidding me? Come on, they want to go to Disney too...
Kendall: NO. They have to work.
Nana (laughing because Pops is cracking up!): Seriously? They have to work, huh?
Kendall (nods with a serious look in her blue, blue eyes): Yas. A little bit.
For the record, Paul and Amy DO have tickets and WILL be making the trip with us. We just haven't figured out how we're going to smuggle them in yet...
Jorge and I just returned from three days in San Marcos, where we attended student/parent orientation.
It's for real. My baby is now a registered college freshman at Texas State, with his fall classes all lined out, his dorm assignment in hand, and his mother's emotions all "a-flutter."
It's weird sometimes how things don't go like you anticipate. I thought I had each of my boys figured out. You know, had their personalities down to a T. And most of the time I do.
And then there's those times - like this week - when it's apparent that I don't know as much as I thought I did.
Jorge, unlike his brother, has always been my independent one. He preferred to figure Lego diagrams out on his own rather than accept help.
He was the one who ignored skinned knees and bloody scrapes and climbed onto his little green bike again and again....and again...until at last he conquered the mystery of balancing without training wheels - and without parental help.
He is the one who has known for years what he planned to do with his life, and he's never waivered from it. It isn't something that he speaks a lot about, but his goals are sure and unwavering. He knows what he wants and he's willing to do the work to get there.
He is the one who has spoken so calmly and matter-of-factly about his upcoming transition to college life. Never for one second did I think he would ever have second thoughts, or anxiety, or just plain 'ol uncertainty about this phase of his life.
So imagine my surprise when I receive a call from him late on Monday night. We had split into our different sessions at eleven that morning and I'd not seen him since then. I was staying in a nearby motel and he was staying in a dorm on campus.
"Hey." His voice was low and husky when I answered.
"Hey." I felt my insides quaver just a bit as I tried to decipher this new sound in his tone. "You okay?"
"Sure." He paused and I waited. "But listen, I was just reading over our schedule for tomorrow and I noticed that parents can join us for breakfast. So I was wondering if you could meet me here at 6:45 in the morning?"
"I'll be there." I had to hold back tears as I gave my word. I felt so many things in that one, precious moment. Pride. Protectiveness. Joy. Fear. Hesitation. More pride. More joy. It was that wonderful, indescribable tug-of-war that we moms must endure as our children grow up and learn to navigate the world all on their own.
It's essential that they learn to do it.
It's equally essential that we LET them do it.
But Jorge confirmed for me the one thing I needed to have confirmed in that precious phone call.
He's still my boy.
I'm still his mama.
And it doesn't matter if he's eighteen, or twenty-eight, or forty-eight - when he calls me and asks me to meet him for breakfast at 6:45 in the morning - I'll be there.
In the meantime, it looks as though I'm now not only a BearKat mama, but also a Bobcat mama. How will I ever keep it all straight...?
Carter: Hey Nana, did you know it's almost time for vacation?
Nana: Yes! I'm so excited! What about you? Are you looking forward to Disney?
Carter: (nodding) Uh-huh. I'm excited.
<l-o-n-g pause>
Carter: Hey Nana.
Nana: What, buddy?
Carter: I think maybe I forgot to mention that, uh, I'm afraid of heights.
Nana: Well, that's okay. Not a problem. You don't have to ride anything at Disney you don't feel comfortable with. Nana doesn't really like scary rides either. Trust me, not a problem.
Carter: What about the plane?
Nana: (realization slowly dawning) Ohhhh.... (thinking this could be a problem, Nana has to think really fast...) A plane is really a lot like your living room. Once we're in the air, you'll feel really safe. Really. It'll be fine. Fun! Really. Really.
Carter: Oh. Okay. Hey, Nana.
Nana: Yes, Carter?
Carter: Is Pops flying the plane?
Nana: (REALLY understanding now, and trying very hard not to laugh out loud.) No, buddy. Not this plane. Pops flies small planes. We're going on a jet plane. Big, huge. Totally safe and not scary. Really.
Carter: (finally looking somewhat convinced) Okay. Hey, will there be bunk beds in our house?
Nana: Uh, I don't think there are bunk beds but one of the bedrooms has two twin beds in it. One for you and one for Kendall.
Carter: Oh. Okay. (scratching his head) But if it's a girly bed, I'm sleeping on the floor!
Nana: I'm pretty sure it won't be a girly bed...
Carter: I'm just saying. If it's pink or anything, I'm sleeping on the floor!
Nana: Gotcha. If it's a girly bed, I promise Nana will find you another place to sleep. Promise.
Carter: (nodding) Okay. So how many more days till we leave?
Nana: One more week.
Carter: One more week? (thinking) So how long is that?
Nana: Seven nights. You just have to sleep seven more nights and then it will be the day we leave.
Carter: Seven more nights? Okay. Hey, I want to sit next to Jordan on the plane. It that okay? Can I sit next to Jordan?
Nana smiled, thinking that sounded like a great plan! Uncle Jorge always has really fun answers for the kids...
Saving Grace
For Such a Time as This
Waking Emma
These Things We Hold
