Monday, September 29, 2014

My heart hurts

I knew it was going to happen at some point.  He'd realize what going away for high school really meant.  



This boy who is on the edge of becoming a man has a depth that makes me proud and makes me hurt.  He thinks and feels and processes so much.  It is painfully familiar.
He knocked on our door last night after 10 and had a nervous, shifty presence.  He said, "There is something that has been bothering me.  Is going to St. Paul my choice?"
It is. 
And it isn't.
And "Why do you ask?  What's up?"
What we talked about  next was heartbreaking to me and clearly weighed heavily on him, my first baby.  
I wonder if we messed something up along the way.  If we didn't encourage his friendships enough over the years.  If we sent the message that his friendships here won't last if he goes away for high school.  If we unknowingly made him think it wasn't worth the effort to make friends here.  I think we failed him somewhere.

He said he read a book awhile back.  I remember him reading it.  I thought I would probably like it too.  It was about a boy who was a star football player and found out he had cancer in his leg and had to have it amputated below the knee.  This boy had just two friends who stayed with him through it all and remained his friends after. He said he started thinking about his friends after reading it. Started wondering if he didn't play football or basketball, who would his friends be?  Which of the kids he now calls friends would still want to be his friend?  He realized it's may not be many.  He is getting attention at school these days for his play on the football field.  He is struggling with his identity.  He said he worked so hard last year to become a better basketball player because he saw how the kids who were good stuck together. He wanted a crowd to stick with.  He wanted an in.                                                           
It never occurred to me last year that all those hours at the Y, were because he wanted a friend.  And now that he feels like he has friends, for maybe the first time in years, he is scared to leave them. That they will stop being his friends, if he goes away.
And I couldn't promise him that they wouldn't.  Big tears from my man-child.  He hurts thinking about losing friends he feels like he put so much time into acquiring.  I hurt thinking about all the time he spent thinking being a better athlete would equal having better friends.
Identity is tricky at any age, but middle school, especially.  He's struggling coming to terms with the fact that he is more than a boy with a ball, yet that is how he has defined himself and how many others have seemingly defined him or valued him.  He feels an enormous amount of pressure to do well on the field and the court. For him, his friendships depend on it.
We talked a long time about friendships.  The variety, the quality, the value in friends who see beyond your surface.  We talked about this town and it's people who are born and raised and how hard that is sometimes to never quite fit.  To recognize that even though he gets to go to St. Paul next year, the friendships that are of value here will remain and the friendships he forges there will be solid and long-lasting.  We talked about how to maintain those friendships through the changes that will come.  We talked about identity and what that means at this age and any age.  
He has a deep need to connect with people.  He is a deep thinker, a philosophical processor.  We reminded him again and again that his value does not lie in what he does.  All the qualities he possesses are valuable. He is a hard-worker. Passionate. Intelligent. Kind. Patient. And for now, the field and the court is where he can express those characteristics, but he is all of those things and more whether he is playing ball or not.  
As much as it hurt to see him struggle, I hugged him tight, and felt so thankful that he is able to share his turmoil with us.  The lessons he's learning now are not easy.  I am still navigating friendships that are at times difficult and complicated.  I wish I could tell him it all gets easier, but it probably won't.  It feels like a big decision to leave home and go away to high school and it is and as much as we want him to be a part of that decision, it's too much pressure for him to have the final say.  So we said, yes, he'll go.  But it's not final.  If it turns out to not be the best place for him, he can come home.  He needs to be able to make connections here that he can hold on to and be confident in.  
I imagine this will not be the last conversation like this as the year goes on.  


Tuesday, September 23, 2014

Fear factor

Do you remember that show?  
Fear Factor?  
Chad and I use to watch it all the time.  I remember telling him several times, he should go on it.  Basically, they took all the "big" fears that people have-bugs, snakes, water, heights, etc- and in any variety of circumstances made people face those fears for a time. 
It was so interesting to me.  Some people overcame really awful situations.  Others just couldn't go through with whatever it was they were tasked to do.
I don't have many deep, paralyzing fears.  I don't like bugs and snakes, per say, but I'm not afraid of them.  They don't cause me stress.  I don't mind heights too much.  Water, may be the one thing that gets me.  Treading water? Fine.  Going underwater for any length of time would do me in.  And I wonder why?  I don't think I ever had anything close to a drowning experience.  I love the ocean and pools and lakes.  But, being under the water makes me freak out a bit.

Those tangible fears we have are so real to the people who possess them.  What about the intangible fears?  Fearing the unknown? Fearing sickness? Or death? Or change?  Or failing?  Or succeeding?
I've mentioned it before, but I had a stretch of time this past year that was debilitating.  Anxiety, which was really fear, took over.  It took weeks to work through that and months to be able to look at it objectively.  What has struck me looking back and I'm so thankful to be looking back with a clear head, is that the fear took over despite any and all head knowledge of what was going on.  I was thankful more than a few times that I had people around me that could hear me and knew me well enough to help me recognize and decipher rational from irrational.  I am not a fearful person and I was becoming unrecognizable even to myself.  
Thankfully, time provides a beautiful sense of perspective.  I've grown much these past months.  I've learned to trust my instincts more.  To give myself and others more grace, because there is just never, ever too much grace.  I've learned to own where we are in our lives more. I've learned that anxiety is real and can be paralyzing.  I've learned to forgive more.  I've learned communicating only works if the person you're talking to hears you.  I've learned to never assume they hear you.  I've learned that I'm married to a man who doesn't want me to hide the dark places of my thoughts from him.  That he can and will sit with me there.  I've learned I have kids who can weather an enormous amount of "crazy mom." I've learned that I have friends. Really good friends who let me be sad or happy or scared without judgment.  And most importantly, I'm still learning that I have a gracious God, who despite a mountain of doubts and questions and fears, seems intent on making His presence known.
I still fear being underwater and I imagine I'll fear the intangible again, but I hope it doesn't hold.  I hope I have this same little army to weather it with me.  And I wonder if I faced the water, if it would be as fearful as I imagine it to be?  

Saturday, September 20, 2014

Photo/brain dump

It's fall(ish), guys.  That means things to do and get done and get to and get home from and orchestrate and organize and remember to do and scramble to keep up with kind of days.
This month of September is ok though.  Its busy but steady. No frenzy yet.  October may be a different story.  It's a practice, a hard one, at taking one day at a time. 
And yet, I'm finding these pockets of time to rest.  Not every day, but some days and not for long, but for moments.  I like it.
I've noticed I don't do anything really differently than I did when I had the kids home during the day, it's just quieter when I do them. I still do homework, clean occasionally, workout, run errands.  Do life.  I just don't have anyone tagging along or interrupting.  I don't mind it, really.  It just feels different.  Not bad.  Different.  Every momma of young kids dreams for this day. And it's good, but I wouldn't wish the little days away if I could go back.  As nice as it is to have the quiet, it just reminds me that they'll be gone soon. Like really gone.  Not just gone til 3.

Here's a bit of a run down of September in pictures!
Post-game meal! Elijah is having a pretty awesome season so far.  He's loving playing receiver!


Corky's first season of flag football.  He's quite the little stud.

Autumn playing VB.  It's slow going at this age, but she is having fun and getting better!



Birthday cake by Autumn.  It was BEYOND good.  Like BEYOND.  She is a baker.


Spent my whole birthday with my favorite person.  

First speech.  Starbucks.




High School reunion.  15 years.  Loved catching up with some friends.  Always wish we stayed in better touch...


Luke's memorial tree on campus.  Evidence of the years that have passed.

On any given road trip, Caleb will want my phone to take pictures.  This is usually what happens.


First day of school!




And where we spend the majority of our "free" time.  Such a gift.

And September isn't even over yet!!