Senior Sentiments

I almost lost it in the underwear aisle.

Back to school shopping with my son, it hit me this was more than likely our last outing for such a thing.  Part of me tearing up and the other wanting to laugh at how sentimental one can become about buying boxers with their kid, er -nearly grown man.

I'm facing this season with the heavy weighted knowledge that it is our final year as mom and child.

My baby is entering his senior year.  Towering over us, his large frame makes most think he's already graduated college.  At 17, there are ways he's still very much a boy though.  The Nerf attacks he and his friend has through my house when together is proof.  But in many ways, he is changing into a responsible adult.

This teetering on adulthood has my momma-heart bursting with emotions.

His last "first day of school" found me sobbing, after he pulled out of the driveway.  My husband shook his head, not understanding my reason for tears.

But a mom is forever connected to her child.  Growing inside inside my belly for nearly a year, our hearts beat in sync.  And with each step further into becoming an adult, I feel that tether being stretched.

Nobody really warns you of this stage of parenting.

Sure, you hear, "they grow so fast."  And, as you're buying shoes and pants mid-school year, because he's already outgrown them, this knowledge is easy to understand.  Yet, I wasn't prepared for how quickly the years would pass by.  It seems as if I have blinked to find my little boy standing before me as a man.

This weekend, he asked if we could go out.  As the waitress brought our tickets, he quickly grabbed them. And again, as we pulled into the drive-in, he handed his cash to pay.  I was tickled enough he chose to spend a free Saturday with his parents, much less offer to cover the cost.

By the first of the year, he'll be officially an adult.  Next summer, a college student.  With such milestones hovering, it is difficult to not feel like a giant clock is counting down the days you have left with them.

I'm trying to embrace the days instead.  To not dwell on the lasts but to soak up the moments.  To let my heart record more than my phone does so I am fully present.  To linger in the laughter and simple joys.  To lift up thanks for the blessing it is to be called "momma" and to hear it spoken from his stubbled lips but still baby face.

Winter Wonderland Woes

We're just a few days in to the holiday season and stress has already reared it's ugly head.  Yesterday it was the "Search for the winter coat tote fiasco".

Crunched for time, hoping to get in a bit of our downtown festivities before Noah went to work, I popped open the blue tote that should have contained our winter coats.  Instead I found it full of spring jackets and hoodies.  Poor hubby made numerous trips to the shed, up and down the ladder, pulling back out the near empty Christmas totes to see if one got shoved in the back.  No luck.

Clock-ticking, Noah still not fully ready for work, no coats in sight.
I chose to deal with it by having a bit of a meltdown.

Yes, with a wonky thyroid, not having a warm coat and gloves can send me spinning this time of year. I knew my fingers would go numb, my teeth would chatter, and I'd feel miserable.  But it wasn't my hubby's fault, who caught the bulk of my fit.

Now, there are several factors I could blame in this scenario.For one, I obviously wasn't as organized as I should have been last spring when putting everything away.  For another, I've needed to get our coats out and organize the hall closet for a few weeks but just haven't made the time.  And, we were all a tad lazy Saturday morning.  It is rare the guys can sleep in and I treated them to a big breakfast as they awoke.  We then lingered and caught up on shows we never seem to have time to watch, played pool and enjoyed each other's company.  As such, Noah was more than a little delayed in getting ready for work.

But when I really press in to the reason for the meltdown it has nothing to do with any of that and more to do with adjusting to the changes in our family.  Noah is nearly grown and the holidays are just different as your kids get bigger.  With work and being a teen, he's rarely home.  Family moments are harder to capture.  There's a shift, a transition in time and this momma bear is struggling.

The picture perfect Christmas festivity I envisioned didn't happen.  

Instead of being pouty that Noah couldn't be with us, I should've been thankful for the time we had together that morning.  Instead of whining over the coat that matched my outfit, I should've changed clothes and added layers (and been grateful to have more than I need).  Instead of wishing for what was or could've been, I should have thoroughly enjoyed the couple time and my supportive hubby, who tried his best to appease his cranky wife.

How often does that occur this time of year?  We dream up an idyllic Christmas and anything less is a disappointment.  Overbooking, tight schedules, and thin wallets can add to the chaos.  Toss in healthy doses of family drama and you have a recipe for disaster.

But in the hustle and bustle that can become Christmas, how many of you hope to slow things down and simply soak up the goodness of the season?

As my calendar begins to fill and time gets squeezed out, I begin to feel that way myself.  When we have to decline a function and feelings get hurt, it makes me question priorities and relationships.  As the date draws closer to the 25th, I'm mindful that the relationship which should be my priority is the very One whose birth we are celebrating.

Amidst the chaos of Christmas, why don't we instead seek a moment with Majesty.  To be still and know...  To let everything else go and just be in His very presence.

I'm reminded that my Christmas wish should be so simple...

To not compare the presents (or lack of) under my tree with those I see
and focus more on the presence of who is around it

To say no when there's no space to give and be well in my soul in doing so

To pause whenever I feel the stress of the season and remember the reason we celebrate

To be fully in every moment, grateful for the memories in the making

To seek Him in the midst, to search Him out, and surround myself with His very spirit

To let it go when others hurt me and share examples of His love

To let His light shine through me everywhere I go

To be still...and know that He is God.
Above all else.

Who Turned on the Tears?

Nobody told me that upon turning 40 a never-ending faucet of tears would occur.  
At any given moment.  Often, for no apparent reason.

It's not that I've been crying about the fact that I am older but rather anything and everything else. Tears can fall for something heartfelt or ridiculous without my ability to control.

I've always been a crier but in my pre-40 days it was typically when I was angry.  This, of course, made me angrier, as it is hard to appear strong and mad when you're a blubbering mess.

The combination of tears hasn't boded well with my effort to wear more make-up in this decade either.  I splurged recently and purchased a few new things, when it dawned on me I hadn't replaced any of my cosmetics two jobs ago.  Yikes!  Remembering my cosmetologist friend's warnings and her wrinkle-free face, I decided it was time to be a grown-up and take better care of my skin.  Irony would see a giant blemish appear on my chin the week of my birthday.  Nice...

Over the past two weeks I can't quite recall all the random times I've cried; however, as I was mopping up flood after flood the thought did cross my mind to write this post.  I do remember looks of horror and disbelief from my family many times.  More than once this month, I've caught Noah glancing my way with a face that yells, "What is happening to my mom!?"

This morning was no exception.

On the way to school, it hit me that this was the last time I'd drive my baby to school.  My inner-self began braking in sync with my foot, as I pulled into the turning lane for morning drop-off.  No! Stop. This can't be so.

Monday is a holiday, Tuesday his 16th birthday.  We have a strict agenda to be at the clerk's office 8 am sharp that morning.  So this was really it.  My final daily task of dropping him off.

The last time.

Tears began streaming and it was all I could do to hold back sobs at the knowledge.  It resulted in an ugly cry.  And it was right in front of my soon-to-be-sixteen-year-old son.

"Are you ok?" he asks, placing a hand on my shoulder.

I manage to shake my head, trying to focus on the now blurry officer waving me on.  Ever the jokester, he tries to lighten the mood.  I chuckle and try to joke back but it doesn't really work, although it is long enough to distract me to get him out the door.

And then the tears continue.

Where did the time go?

Please excuse me while I grab a tissue...