When I'm Oh So Wrong

I think I have great kids.  I feel blessed every day to be their mom.

On those occasions when the wind shifts and I'm thinking otherwise, I know deep down they'll prove me wrong.

Even the teens...and pre-teens.

(That's about all of them.)

Who I love.  Really.  Every bit of them.

Even their overly-used amygdalas and under developed frontal cortexes.

Love, love, love them.  And their friends.

When they all hang out together the teen energy around here is fun.

And I love the carpool conversations, and the talks with my teens.  I love that they're forming their own opinions and thinking critically about their world.

No drones around here.

Yes, I definitely love them.

Even when I get a little nervous about driver's licenses.  And dating.

But just last night I was worrying to Tim about the middle school crowd at our house taking a dip into the self-centered teen pool.

I was wrong.

And tired.

Tim said so, and he was tired too, but somehow he could still see the good through his tired.

(That's why there's two of us.)

He pointed out all the help they give, and the service projects they do with friends, and pointed out how they choose good friends, and a lot of times the help around the house without being asked.

He was right.

I was wrong.

And tired.  So I went to bed.

This morning the two middle-schoolers didn't have school.  I thought they'd hang out all day, maybe invite some friends over, or hang out with friends.

And somehow in the light of a new day I was ok with that.

But instead when I came back from dropping off the others to school I found my middle schoolers cleaning the kitchen.

And the downstairs family room.

Because tomorrow is your birthday, Mom.

(Could these be the same children I was sure the night before were doomed to live a self-centered existence?)

So this afternoon I'm taking them and some friends to a movie.

Because it's appreciate your teen day.

Beautiful Baptism Day

I am a child of God.

And He has sent me here.

Has given me an earthly home,

With parents kind and dear.

Lead me.

Guide me.

Walk beside me.

Help me find the way.

Teach me all that I must do.

To live with Him someday.

   

(lyrics to I Am A Child of God, by Naomi Ward Randall)

Happy Birthday Dr. Seuss

Love, love, love Dr. Seuss!

Last year I was feeling creative and shared my love of all things Seuss...
Here it is again in honor of his birthday:

Happy Birthday Dr. Seuss!

We're Twins!

Joie has forever wanted to wear matching dresses with her sister.

Megan...not so much.

Before we were even went to Nebraska to meet Gabby, Joie had plans brewing for look-alike dresses with her new sister.

Turns out Gabby was all for it, so for Christmas one of their presents was look-alike dresses.

They wore them once.  Then Gabby said she didn't like the dress and wouldn't wear it again.  She was busy identifying with Megan and matching with Joie didn't fit into that plan.

For the past few months Gabby has imitated Megan's very casual style.

If the sincerest form of flattery is imitation, Megan is overly flattered, because when Joie first came, she abandoned her girly dresses and went with Megan's style also.  Eventually she started wearing dresses again, and has once again found her own style.

Gabby decided last week to break from Megan's style and she wore a skirt to school.

Then Sunday she decided with Joie they should wear their matching dresses again.

So should the caption be, "We're twins!"

Or should it be, "Oops...we wore the same dress."

Either way, both times they've worn their matching dresses, something in me wants to attach a huge sign  to their backs that says:

This was my own idea.  I promise my mom did not make me dress this way.

I'm with Megan on the matchy-matchy look.  I still have flashbacks of having to wear look-alike t-shirts with all 12 of my siblings whenever we went somewhere as a family...hence my sensitivity to seeing my own children in matching clothes.  

As you can imagine, being one of the oldest (and a teenager) during most of the matchy-matchy years, the trauma was immense...

Still recovering from that one.

He Speaks!

Funny, funny picture.  

They saw the medal stand at the gym and had to pose.

(Joie could easily add acting to her list of accomplishments.)

But see that kid on top?  The one in first place?  He's earned his spot, and we're happy to see him there.

A year ago we wondered what was wrong and if he'd ever be well again.  Out of the blue his immune system stopped functioning.

And if that wasn't enough...

He had strep antibodies attacking his neurological system.

Not his best year.

And for whatever reason, during that whole process he stopped talking at school.  

Literally.  He just refused to speak.

Not even to friends.

Some parents don't celebrate when they hear at parent teacher conferences that their children are talking in class.

And most teachers don't smile with pride and understanding when they tell parents their children are talking in class.

Yet that is exactly what happened this week at parent teacher conference.

It felt so good that teachers and school administrators recognized this as progress and celebrated with us.

Health challenges can be overwhelming and mysterious, and in this case, it's not over...

But it's better.

And he speaks!

He's also found his inner artist.  

He's taking art and photography this term and doing great at both.  He brought home some of his art and Gabby bought it from him with some of her own money.  Now he can say he's sold his first paintings.

And here is some of his photography work:

He asked me the other day if he could teach me how to use my camera...

And that was after he told me my camera is wasted on me because I don't know half of what it does...

And he's probably right.

But I'm glad he can teach me.