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My Prayer For My Kids Leaving Home

Fifteen years ago, I knelt in a hospital chapel, begging my unborn son would survive the day. My husband and I had a blood incompatibility (PLA1-). Our babies have neonatal alloimmune thrombocytopenia. My body destroys baby platelets in utero. We were going to have a PUBS, to transfuse platelets. It was early enough in the pregnancy that if anything went wrong, he would die.

Before dawn, as I prayed, a lady walked in, prayed in the front row, raised her hands in the air, and left silently. I will always believe she was an angel. I felt like Hannah, begging for a child, and her prayer being answered in church. My prayer that day: God,keep my son safe.

When our teens went white-water rafting, I begged God again. I watched rafting youtubes after the left.  When I saw the crashes, I stormed heaven again. When they made their first ski trip alone, I prayed them through the day. My prayer: God, bring my children home unharmed.

When we went hiking in the Smokies and my teens took a trail without telling us, I prayed. My ankle was sprained; my husband had helped me manage the Laurel Falls trail with a cane. Our kids didn’t want to go at my slower pace. When we got to the top of the trail, they were gone. My husband left to find them on the higher trail, while I sat on a bench, with my cane, waiting till they were found. For two hours, I waited. My prayer that day: God, bring my family back home. That was followed with prayers of God, how do I get back down this mountain if they don’t get back soon and Lord, I gotta go, there is no bathroom, and please help me not wet my pants.

Then they leave on bus trips. I fuss details and tell them survival strategies from my travels. I watch them board the bus and wait until the bus leaves. My prayers have now changed.

Hannah had a son and when the time came, she let him go to serve Elijah. When Samuel left, he heard the voice of God and discovered his calling.

Now it’s my turn. Let go of my children, a step at a time before they leave for college. When they leave now,  they may discover their calling. Their story has become their own, and I’m becoming a background pray-er.

Now my prayer is: Please God, help them hear your call so I know they’ll always be home.

Hopefully that prayer won’t be followed by, Lord, help this middle-aged mama not wet her pants.

Confessions of an Old Geezer

This morning, I have graduated to the ranks of an old geezer.

Why?

A snowstorm is coming. It’s not here. Note the amount of snow on my car right now. All area schools cancelled in anticipation of the storm. Fine. I don’t have a problem with that – it could be a hassle to get everyone home. I don’t want to see kids get hurt.

My problem is other organizations base closings on the school corporation. Tonight, I have a community meeting that’s cancelled because of EVSC’s decision to cancel school today.  No problem. 

However, this morning my kids’  scheduled morning swim was automatically cancelled because of the snowstorm that’s not here yet. By the time the practice would have ended, there would be less than 1/2 an inch of snow on the ground.

As some point, we have surrendered our common sense in the name of policy and out of fear of litigation.

So here’s the old geezer rant:

In my school district growing up, the superintendent hated snow days because he wanted to take Easter week off to Florida. That’s back when spring break corresponded with Easter. 

We lived in a small county, over 50% rural, and the buses struggled their way on county roads. We went to school when it snowed 6 inches overnight. Granted, the day we did that was when our high school basketball team was due to play a sectionals game that we would forfeit if school were let out.

There were times school buses didn’t arrive until 9 a.m., but by golly we got in our school day so the superintendent could tan in Florida in March and the ball team could compete.

The only times we really had snow days were during the winters of ’77 and ’78, when we had the blizzard.  Then, we were out of school a month.

Those bad winters, I had a foot paper route that took an hour in good weather and 2-3 hours after a bad snowstorm. I didn’t miss a day of the route. So, yes, I walked through two feet of snow. And was thankful for the paycheck. If we got a chance to shovel walks for someone for money, we were thankful for that too.

We survived and thrived because of a little hardship and a lot of snow.

Can’t we judge for ourselves the hazards in our own driveway and decide whether we can make a trip?

Diary of a Mom

Baby - did I used to take showers? When will she start talking? This is the hardest phase of parenting because there’s so much work.

Toddler - She’s talking! Tells me no sometimes! This is the hardest phase of parenting because there’s so much running. 

Preschooler - Now she talks back. Just when I think she’s ok, she’s tried something new or made a new mess.  She told me I’m the meanest mom on the planet cause I told kids no when I chaperoned her field trip. This is the hardest part of parenting because we juggle watching with letting her explore.

Elementary - Can she ever take a breathe when she’s talking? This is the hardest part of parenting because I’m driving her everywhere all the time.

Middle School – She talks to her friends but doesn’t like to talk to me. This is the hardest part of parenting because of her attitude.

Early High School – She tells me how wrong I am and how right she is on a daily basis. If I had known how hard this part of parenting was, I would have planned a different life path.

Later High School – Some bad days, some good days. I choose my battles. In just over a year, she’ll be in college. This is our last time together before she leaves. This is the hardest part of parenting because we have so much to do before she leaves home.

College - We left her at her dorm today. I cried. Will miss her and wouldn’t trade a minute of my life as mom. 

Well, wouldn’t trade most of the minutes of my life as mom.

My life as mom hasn’t ended. It just changed.

Maybe that’s why the Bible says “and so it came to pass” instead of “and so it came to stay…”

Snow Adventures

“We’ll get to the doctor’s office and back before the snowstorm hits,” I assured my mother several years ago. Her appointment was 1 1/2 hours from her home, and I took my kids, ages 5 and 7, with me. We booked a hotel room the night before so we could get in for her early a.m. appointment and dash back home the next day.

As I sat in the nearly deserted waiting room the next morning, I watched the snow become ice and pelt the pavement. Locals had cancelled their appointments. I needed to manage my kids and help my mom (who spent most of her time wheelchair-bound) avoid injury.  By the time the appointment ended, we knew there was no way we could return home and booked an additional night at the hotel.

When I watched the news in the small city, further south than ours, the news reporter proudly reported, “There’s our snow plow, clearing the roads.” Yes, snow plow, not plows. Singular. That’s when I knew we were in trouble.

Extra nights in hotels are the kinds of adventures kids like. We grabbed enough food for lunch that we didn’t have to venture out for dinner. Though I often sent my son outside to run circles in the front yard to wear off his energy, we got to keep him in a hotel room most of the day.

The next morning, I took my daughter, a 2nd grader, outside to clear the snow and ice from the van so we could try to get home.  I left my kindergarten-aged son in with my mother. Half an hour after we started clearing, my son came out. I figured he had run faster than my mom with her walker, so I told him, “Go tell grandma we’re almost ready to load and go.” He went back inside.

After the van was clean, I returned to the room to find an angry mother. When she went to the bathroom, my son had slipped out the door, ventured through the hotel, and found us outside. When I sent him back in, he went back to the room by himself. “What were you thinking? You TOLD him to go back through the hotel alone?”

Yep. That’s me. Just pin the Bad Mom of the Year award on my Parenthood cloak.

Yes, we made it home.

And that’s when I learned that my children’s behavior was as easy to predict as the weather.

Strap on your parachute! Seize the adventure!

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