Empty Nest Full Heart

PEANUT IS A GIRL!!!!!

 

Anticipation...

There are certain people in this world that just hate to wait.  Elasti-girl is one of them.  When she was a little girl, she practically started counting the days until her birthday as soon as Christmas was over.  Her birthday was the first one in our family after the New Year, and she immediately began planning her party, or what she presents she would want, or if she wanted a yellow cake with chocolate frosting or a chocolate cake with chocolate frosting.  Her birthday is in April.

And I do believe it was also Elasti-girl who walked in on me wrapping presents one Christmas.  I sat her on the bed, had her look me straight in the eyes and promise she would not tell Girlfriend what her gift was.  She almost made it.  As we were passing out the gifts on Christmas morning, and as Girlfriend began to open said gift, Elasti-girl, unable to contain herself any longer, blurted out, "IT'S A MY LITTLE PONY!"

Some people just can't wait.

Take Pebbles, who has been dying to know the gender of Peanut (their baby due in July) since the day she found out she was pregnant.  Were she not so frugal, she would have paid the $30 for the gender identification kit from Walgreens as soon as it was possible to know, even though it is only about 80% accurate.  Her mother Wilma is equally anxious to find out, and is dying to hit the baby stores once she knows if she's buying for a girl or a boy.  Wilma had a dream that it's a girl.  We'll see if she's ready to hit the psychic circuit very soon.

As in TODAY!  Today is the day we've all been waiting for!  Today is the big ultrasound!  Today the phone lines will be burning as Pebbles and Bamm-Bamm make a gazillion calls to friends and family.

While Peanut's gender is about to become public knowledge, his/her name will remain a mystery.  Bamm-Bamm is committed to keeping this secret until Peanut is welcomed into the family.  Pebbles, on the other hand is dying.  They have finally agreed on a girl's name and she wants to tell in the worst way.  Will she be able to keep quiet or will she crack?  

Stay tuned...

Learning How to Let Go

Our nest took a little longer than usual to empty.  Of course, these days, I'm not even sure what that means.  It is decidedly harder for young adults to get started in life, a fact substantiated by a recent memo at work announcing the passing of a new state law allowing adult children up to the age of 27 living at home to be on their parents' health insurance even if they are NOT in college.  Because several of our chicklets were back and forth a couple of times it sort of drew out the process for us, and by the time the last one was out for good, we were past the grieving and happy for them to be starting their life adventures on their own.

Not true for my friend, Jaycee.  She has one son in college and another on the way.  The boys are close in age, and so she is feeling the effects of an impending empty nest.  She is feeling a little panicked and a little lost.  Jaycee, this one's for you.

First, your feelings are normal, normal, normal.  You have been a devoted parent, and you have spent the better part of the past 20 years doing, doing, doing.  To your credit, you have also been involved in ministry and have had a couple of jobs that have captivated your passion for the poor and the incarcerated.  But here, in a lull between jobs, you're finding yourself thinking more about how your role as a mother is changing.  And you're right - it is.  Gone of the days of being a manager.  I would imagine that your advice isn't even all that welcomed about now.  Your boys are making more and more of their own decisions and you are less and less involved in the daily management of their lives.  That this should impact you is completely normal.

Two, you are not alone.  There are many moms who are right there with you and understand exactly how you feel.  While our experiences are not always the same, we share many of the same emotions.  But I'm guessing there are other moms out there that you know, either at church or through some other venue, who are experiencing or have experienced the things you are feeling.  You have children who have not rebelled and who are going to college, and because of the type of profession they are pursuing, will most likely not be living close to home again.  I would encourage you to find a mom (or a group of moms) who are in the same boat and get together to talk and to pray for your kids.  Yes, misery does love company, but beside that, nobody understands like somebody who's been there - or better yet IS there.

Three, I applaud your desire to find a new ministry "niche" - and particularly, something that you and hubby can do together.  You recognize that high school sports and other activities have taken a chunk of your life and you will soon be in possession of more time than you've had in a number of years.  Good for you to be seeing that already and praying about how to best use it.  I'm praying for you, too.

Speaking of hubby, many moms at your point in life realize they've perhaps neglected him in all the busyness of teenagers.  This is the time to rediscover and reconnect and relish the time together.  It costs a whole lot less to take two people on a trip than it does four.  Plan a vacation!  Go someplace you've never been before.  We took the long awaited trip to Hawaii for our 25th anniversary and the planning and preparation were half the fun.  And we had the time of our lives.  I remember seeing all the honeymooners and saying to Flyboy that I knew they weren't enjoying this half as much as I was.

And finally, being honest with your kids about what you're going through creates an atmosphere of friend-building, and this is important as your role changes.  Particularly with sons, there is the fear that when they leave home they'll never connect with us again.  I just about drove Girlfriend out of my life when she moved to California as a nanny.  I asked her every Sunday afternoon if she'd been to church.  Had she made any new friends?  What was the sermon about?  Did she like the pastor?  Blah, blah, blah...it's only because I cared, but I just about drove her crazy.  I had to stop acting like a mother and start acting like a friend.  No more nagging!  No more unsolicited advice!  No more feeling like I am entitled to knowing how they spend every minute!  These behaviors are not healthy and it takes intentionality to move beyond them.  Once I realized what I was doing, I apologized to Girlfriend, explained how hard this transition was for me, and promised to try to do a better job of treating her like an adult.  I had to apologize multiple times along the way, but once she heard my heart and understood how hard losing her was for me, she was able to gently remind me to back off when I overstepped.  And I was able to slowly let go.

It's a process.  Let yourself be human.  Lean into your pain.  God is there.

He who said, "...my flesh is real food and my body is real drink", was reminding us that He is a real God with real understanding.  He will not leave us in the lurch.  He will not abandon us when we find ourselves truly alone. He will be there in a real way, with real help in our time of need.

Letter Writing

Letter writing is a lost art.  As I look back on some of the letters my dad has hung onto through the years (and passed onto me), it is so apparent we have really forgotten the power of the written letter.  Instead, we opt for whatever is the fastest - like texting  - which is a poor substitute for complete thoughts and keeps the conversation shallow and brief.  

As a child, finding a letter in the mailbox with my name on it was like finding hidden treasure.  It was how Flyboy and I "dated" for the majority of our young relationship, being separated by many miles.  In fact, after we met on a blind date and went out two more times before I headed back to California, Flyboy said to me, "well, you'll probably never hear from me again...I'm no good at long distance relationships."  I had a letter in the mailbox three days later, and it was our mainstay in those early days.  We wrote long letters almost daily.

It occurred to me yesterday that I have been more than lax in letter writing, and I am missing golden opportunities to develop a relationship across the ocean with our grandsons Dash and JackJack.  My friend Elsie is good at this, making little books to mail to her grandchildren, or sending cards, or writing letters.  I realized that I have hardly communicated with the boys since they moved and shame on me.  We Skype occasionally, but not terribly successfully (though they are getting better), as 3-4 year old boys are not patient enough for much talking.  Take JackJack, who on a recent Skype call was head banging like Alice Cooper, which made meaningful conversation with anybody difficult.  I said, "JackJack...what are you doing with your head?"  He replied, "I'm spinning my head until it pops off."  "Of course you are..."

This realization came to me yesterday as I was i-chatting with Elasti-girl.  Why have I not written actual letters?  I've fallen into the trap of electronic communication and have forgotten how to write a letter.  I do have to say that i-chatting affords the luxury of instant response, and I do love that.  But especially for children, letter writing is golden, and I intend to resurrect it immediately.

Yesterday, hearing of JackJack's latest bout with the icky stomach flu, I emailed him a get well message.  I told him how sorry I was that he was sick and that if we were together, he could sit on my lap and we could read books or watch "Meet the Robinsons" and cuddle until he felt better.  His mommy read it to him, as well as a note to Dash, and memories flooded my head of letters I received growing up.  I think what I'll do is pick a time - the same time time each week - to write a letter to the boys.  For those of us who don't get to have our grandchildren in the same town (much less the same country), letter writing is an important relationship builder.

No Comment

There will be no commenting on the Super Bowl from this site.  Lord knows I don't need any trouble from the NFL who has banned everything from reproduced photos to commentary around the water cooler.  And secondly, Elasti-girl has requested a communications black-out on all things Super Bowl because they recorded it last night (it was broadcast in the UK at 11 pm) and are having their Super Bowl party a day late.  Friends and goodies and fun...just as if they were watching it live.

So - to our viewing friends and family in the UK, happy partying!

Little Boy Blues

It's about this time of year when I get really tired of winter.  And ol' Punxsuhtawney Phil didn't help matters any by predicting six more weeks of winter.  Of course, when you live in the north you know better than to think that winter will be cut short no matter what some groundhog says.  I think it's time for a trip to the Domes.  It's where we go about this time every year when we are sick to death of this:

And really begin longing for this:

 

But for now, the cold weather seems to be dragging on forever, and if that isn't bad enough, the sun has gone on strike and is refusing to brighten the gray days.  And our little guys are a continent away.

Humbug.

But then, no matter what the sun has chosen to do (or not do), Elasti-girl brought a smile yesterday with reports of Dash and JackJack's first day at preschool.  She had been preparing them for a week following their visit to see the place and meet the teachers.  While they were there, a little boy started throwing sand from the sand table at Daddy, and was swiftly corrected by the teacher, who explained that throwing sand is not a good idea because it can get in a person's eyes.  JackJack ever thinking on his feet commented, "It's okay.  My daddy is wearing glasses.  They protect his eyes."

So, anyway, they started yesterday.  Elasti-girl had been talking to them about their first day, and offered to stay for the sake of Dash, who has a little separation anxiety at times like this.  He woke up feeling pretty good about life, and said, "You don't have to stay, Mommy.  I will be fine."  "Are you sure, Dash?  I'll stay if you want me to..."  "No, it's okay.  I'll be fine."  When they got to school, Dash took one look around and said, "Mommy, you can stay."  No big surprises there.  But then, five minutes later, he spied her at the back of the room and said, "You can leave."  Now that WAS a surprise.  She was prepared to stay the whole morning and had not brought along anything to do to occupy her time.  She stepped out into the parking lot, feeling a little "dismissed", feeling a little unneeded, feeling a little lost after spending most every waking moment for the past four years caring for their needs, and she shed a few tears.  Then she enjoyed a walk through town, hitting some thrift stores and relaxing for a cup of coffee and figured she might be able to learn to enjoy this kind of down time.  

And then she sent these.

 

Mommy, how many pictures are you going to take???

 And finally, outside their new school...

And despite the distance and the dismal weather, I am smiling again.   

A Model Citizen

Last night was a (somewhat) monumental evening.  Flyboy graduated from a six-week Citizens Academy, sponsored by the city's police department.  You'd think he'd completed the real thing for all the fanfare.  We arrived thirty minutes early, to allow time for class photos, a run-through on the line-up of students, and an explanation of how to receive a certificate and get your picture taken with the police chief.  Flyboy learned about everything from the organization of the department to investigating a crime scene to shooting a semi-automatic Smith & Weston and more.  He even got to ride along with a real officer in a real squad car doing real police business.  Unfortunately, it was a slow night and the only real excitement was watching the officer type in license plate numbers into the computer while driving the vehicle.  He felt lucky to be alive at the end of the evening.

So now he's official.  Except for the fact that he can't pull anybody over.

Or arrest anyone.

But he can foster all kinds of community good will.  He can help bridge the gap between the police and the regular folks.  See, here he is already in a photo with the Asst. Police Chief and Bamm-Bamm.  Don't they just look full of good will?

 We told Bamm-Bamm that the next time we're at the police academy watching someone graduate, it will be him.  

The Cat Named Mouse Who Thinks He's a Dog

When Girlfriend brought him home from the kitty-rescue-place, he was terrifed and spent the first few days under the couch, only coming out when she left the room.  He was sick with a cold and her first week with him was spent shoving pills down his throat.

He has since recuperated and has figured out, I'd say, that he has a pretty good deal with Girlfriend.  He has decided that the only place in this life he wants to be is with her, and he follows her around like a dog.

And he plays fetch.  For real.  No joke.  

It's Begun

As our kids have grown up, our parenting role has changed as well.  No more do we mandate what is going to happen, we *suggest*.  We share ideas, but don't necessarily advocate for a singular solution, wanting our kids to weigh out the pros and cons and make their own decision.  We are cheerleaders from the sidelines, yelling encouragement even when the play flops altogether.   We never say, "I told you so," but rather let the consequences speak for themselves.  They are the best teachers anyway.

And besides, I can usually count on a sibling to do the dirty work.  Consider the following conversations:

Exhibit A: Gigi and Girlfriend, discussing her new kitty, Mouse the Cat

Girlfriend: I know you always had our cats declawed when we were growing up, and I understand why, but I'm not sure I want to have Mouse declawed.  

Gigi: Tell me what you're thinking...

Girlfriend:  Well, it just seems to me that I'd be taking something away from Mouse that is an invasion of his natural state merely for my own convenience.  That thought bothers me.  I mean, right now, he's kneading my arm with his paws, just like he would his mother.

Gigi:  You do realize that he would knead your arm whether he had claws or not?

Girlfriend: I know.  He's just so timid, and I'd hate to freak him out further by taking him to the vet and letting them hurt him.

Gigi:  Girlfriend, he is YOUR cat.  The decision belongs solely to you, and there is no right or wrong answer - just the one that you are comfortable with.

Exhibit B: Same conversation between Elasti-girl and Girlfriend

Girlfriend: I'm just not sure if I want to go through with declawing Mouse or not.  It feels like I'm taking something away from him that is his and I'm not sure I feel comfortable with that.

Elasti-girl: You let them neuter him.  That seems a whole lot more personal to me than claws.

Girlfriend: That's different...all pets are neutered.  It's how we control the pet population.

Elasti-girl:  What about your furniture?  You just spent a lot of money on that new sofa.  Are you ready to let Mouse rip it to shreds?!?

Girlfriend:  That's why I bought him a scratching post and toys to play with.  I'm hoping to train him to NOT scratch the sofa.

Elasti-girl:  Are you crazy???  Get the cat declawed!!!  It is NOT WORTH IT to sacrifice your furniture for his feelings.  He'll get over it!!!

----------------------

Our roles are changing already.  I'm backing off, acting more as a consultant than a manager.  And before you know it, I'll be the child and they'll be the parents.  They'll be making sure I have my sweater and have taken my pills and will drive me to the doctor.  At least when I can't remember my own name anymore, I'll know they have each other to keep them in line.  What goes around comes around.  It's a beautiful thing.

News from Beyond the Pond

Oh my, we miss Dash and JackJack (and obviously their parents), but the connectedness of our world makes it a little more bearable.  I had yet another amazing moment this past week where providence and technology met face to face and a timely connection was made.

The day started for Elasti-girl with plans for taking the boys to a preschool play outing at their church.  Everything was a struggle and the boys were dragging their feet every step of the way.  Elasti-girl was not in the mood for funny stuff and the boys were not quite on top of their game enough to realize it.  They had apparently decided that push-back was worth whatever it was going to cost them.  Bad choice.

I had tried to call her on my way to work, but got only a busy signal, later to find the phone had inadvertently been left off the hook.  When I got to work, I was checking my email and ran my mouse across the Facebook icon on my Yahoo toolbar, and something happened that I had never noticed before - there were some of the latest status updates showing up, including one by Elasti-girl that simply stated, "having a bad day."  A comment box showed itself underneath her status, and I typed in it, "chat me."  The absolutely amazing (and providential) part of this interchange was the fact that Facebook is blocked where I work, and understandably so...who thinks it's a good idea to give students access to social networks during the school day?  Not our administration.  Somehow, I was able to communicate with Elasti-girl WITHOUT being signed on to Facebook.  I don't understand it, but it happened.

So...Elasti-girl chatted me and I learned about her day, and while I couldn't do a thing to make any of it easier, I felt connected to her in that moment and was able to affirm her and love her, and most importantly, be there for her even though we are separated by the entire Atlantic Ocean.  I continue to be blown away by the ease with which we can communicate and stay connected even though we're so far apart.

In the meantime, I've loved hearing of the boys singing together while they play in their room.  And of their increasing vocabulary (JackJack requested a certain dvd because it is "hilarious".  And told Mommy his sandwich was "awesome".)  And telling stories before bedtime.  JackJack's latest story consisted of a campfire and marshmallows.  Dash took his turn and started telling JackJack's story with one twist.  He said, "...and then the fire got up and walked into...TARGET!!!"  And then he laughed, and laughed, cracked up by his own joke.  Then, Dash said, "A fire can't walk - it doesn't have legs, you silly boy!"  Oh to hear their little voices!

And finally, they are growing so quickly that some new clothes were in order.  Their British look IS pretty adorable.  Gigi loves you guys!