Hail Mary Pass

At J's last game he threw a long ball and the light bulb went off in my head.

Raising a child is like throwing a Hail Mary pass.

The term "Hail Mary pass" was used by Roger Staubach following a game in a post-game interview. Previous to this play, a last-second desperation pass had been called several names, most notably the "Alley-Oop". Staubach, who had been hit immediately after throwing the ball and didn't see its ending, was asked about the play and he said, "You mean Pearson caught the ball and ran in for the touchdown? It was just a Hail Mary pass; a very, very lucky play." Staubach told reporters "I closed my eyes and said a Hail Mary". 

Each morning I watch J drive away with his Dad and wish for him to have a good day.  Then I see T and Lu run out the door to the bus stop and I wait for them to get on, find their seat and wave at me as the bus pulls away.  Then the house seems to sigh and sound incredibly empty.  I still feel those heart tugs.

I know I'm sending them out in the world to grow and learn and BE, but man, sometimes it's hard to let go.

Never in the history of ever has a baby been born that was self sufficient.  My babies all needed me, or someone like me, to help them with the basics of life.  The feeding, the changing, the comforting, the snuggling. I could have seriously eaten their little cherub cheeks. Can you blame me? My heart swelled and enveloped them and I promised them, myself, and God that I would do my best to raise them to be the people He wants them to be.

When they were little, our small family life was all they knew and all they needed.  They were fed and nurtured and it wasn't perfect, but it was perfect for them.  I've been sad but excited to see each phase change into the next.  

They are resilient little people and somehow they've survived my often weak attempts at parenting.

We've also been blessed to be around family and friends who have taught them things we couldn't or haven't.

We've tried to teach them to live well.  Go. Run. Play. Discover. Work hard. Be polite. We try to live a good life.  We do church, we do prayers. We do our best to be honest, to be nice and help others.  We try to live what we believe more than we say it.  

I find comfort in Proverbs 22:6.  Train up a child in the way he should go and when he is old he will not depart from it.

Is it ever really enough?   I feel the weight of wondering if I've done enough and wishing I could do more. And I understand when my parents tell me they still worry about us.  That worry will never go away.

Life gets noisy.

Do your best and then do your best to let go.

That is the hard part.

I'm so very grateful for the Savior and the gospel.  It gives me guidance and hope.

Now J is into school, sports, friends, and (gasp) girls. :) Even though he can't date until he's 16, he has a lot of friends.  He's a good mix of shy and strong.  T is finding his own voice and confidence.  Lu is only learning her ABC's, but I know she'll be a teenager in the blink of an eye.

And I worry.  

I wonder what mistakes they will make that they regret and how those things will shape them.  I wonder how they will hurt others by accident or on purpose and what they will do to try and make it better.  I wonder what opportunities they will have or create for themselves.  I wonder what pain they will have that I can not fix. I wonder what brilliance will come out of them that will change them and maybe change others.  

I want them to be strong.  I want them to make good choices.  I want them to know who they are.  That they are children of a loving God and that they have limitless potential for good.  I want them to be there for each other and keep each other on the right track.  I hope I/we've done enough to prepare them.

I hope they will have dreams and will be determined to get them  Part of me has anxiety each time I let go of my grip a little more, and part of me is so very excited for them to go live.

I know they are young and far from on their own.  I want them to know they can make mistakes, have success and have a secure place at home either way.  I send them out into the world a little at a time and hope for the best with a prayer in my heart.

Just like a Hail Mary pass.

Moments

I need a new towel rack in the kid's bathroom.

The old one got bent, broken and somehow magically put a small round hole in the wall all by itself without any help from the kids.

We also have an older-than-dirt single square rod in there, circa 1978 thank you very much, that is stuck to the wall.  It's old enough that I'm really hoping the glue in said stickiness will just sort of flake away from the wall.  I don't think I'm going to be that lucky.  I got a board and some hooks and I'm making one to hang up. I'm relatively handy with paint and power tools, so the making of it doesn't concern me too much.

I pulled out the board and paints last night and set down to paint away.

Lu wanted to paint too and at first I kind of brushed her aside and said something like, "No, just give me 5 minutes and I'll be done."

I get like that sometimes.  I admit, I'm a little anal (ok, a LOT.)  Sometimes I. Just. Want. To. Get. It. Done. By. My. Self.

Sweet little Lu asked me a couple more times and I finally had this conversation in my head...

"You know Self, you really can be a jerk some times.  How else is she going to learn to paint, if not from you?  Get over your not-wanting-to-have-a-mess-to-clean-up-ness and PAINT with the girl!  She will have fun.  You will laugh.  She will learn from you.  She might make a mistake (gasp!) and look to you for validation that she's ok.  Validate her.  You're going to make a memory either way.  So make this be a good one, instead of another project you wouldn't let her be a part of."

I told her to grab a paintbrush and get painting.

She beamed.  She was SO careful.  We had fun.  No messes were made.

She's not the one who rose to the occasion, it was me that changed.

I get wound pretty tight and get stuck in the grind.  Get the dishes done, get the food cooked, start another load of laundry that will never end, the cat box needs cleaning, I just stepped on a lego, someone's shoes are in the entry again, and why are his shorts in the middle of the living room, clean up, clean up, clean up.  I already feel like I'm always about 2 days behind on EVERYTHING.  And sometimes I think if I just have 5 minutes to get something done I can get it done, with no helpers.

But the helpers are way more important.

I'm a bit of a control freak too.

I seriously need to relax.  Painting with Lu was fun.  It didn't take long.  We didn't make a mess and she did great.  I forget sometimes that right now I'm her greatest teacher.  That she will learn how to view herself and others by watching me.  There will come a time when she won't want to have a thing to do with me so I better take advantage of her sweetness now.  We all make mistakes and messes.  That's what we're here for, and making them in an environment that is loving, and forgiving and safe will build her (and me).

Little Prayers...

Lu is our go-to girl for saying prayers these days.

Since school started I've tried to have a quick prayer with T and Lu as they walk out the door.

T has a turn every once in a while, depending on whether Lu feels like he's up to the task.

Hub and J are always gone early.  I've told Hub about some of the awesome prayers they say and his comment was, "Why aren't we having it before we leave?"  Good question....

They always pray for our safety.  For every one of us.  And our friends.  And our home.

If we forget, Lu reminds us.

We're getting pretty good at praying quickly because sometimes we just don't have it all together before the bus comes.

Those prayers warm my heart.

Being Late & Being Accountable

T has ball practice 3 times a week.  It’s always the same days.  It’s always at the same time.

Sometimes it’s hard for him to be responsible regarding being ready for practice.

I've tried really, really, really, REALLY hard to make it easy to get ready.  Really.

There’s a spot for his gear, a spot for his water bottle, a spot and a system for his practice and game clothes.  He should be able to get ready in about 5 minutes.  My hope was that he would get into a system that would work for him.  And one that he would make work for him.  Sigh…some days go better than others.

Yesterday he wasn’t ready on time.  He had been reminded.  Then scolded.  Then reminded again. Then he got left behind because his ride had responsibilities too. 

Then Mom came home and I scolded, and huffed, then talked and pleaded.  Then drove.

It’s not as simple as him not wanting to play or practice.  He does.  He loves it when he’s there.  It’s the getting there that’s the issue.  I’m afraid he’s got the procrastination gene from me and I was really hoping it would skip a generation.

As we drove I reminded him of a player on his team who consistently doesn't give his best effort.  I asked him if he remembered telling me how irritating it is to work so hard and know they guy next to you isn't giving his all.  Then I told him, with all the love I could muster, that he wasn't being much better than that guy.  That by not being there on time he was basically telling everyone on his team he didn't think very much of them or himself.

Being committed is hard work.  It’s easy to do the stuff you want to and it stinks to do the stuff you don’t.  We talk a lot in our family about taking care of business and how the small things count.  When those are done and done right, it  leads to the big things.  The fun things and sometimes the even harder things.  Specifically for T, I want him to realize the level of control he has in his own life.  I want him to embrace it and not only expect a lot from himself, but achieve the standard he sets and know he can.  Get the have-to’s over with and get on to the want-to’s already!

Basically, it’s life, and he’s ten-going-on-eleven.  And I worry.  I worry that if I let it slide once then it will be easier for me and for him to let it slide again.  Is it the end of the world because he was late to one practice?  Absolutely not. Am I focusing so intently on the one tiny tree that I’m not seeing the forest?  I don’t think so.  What we repeatedly do becomes habit and shapes who we are. 

When we got to practice, I talked to his coach, in front of T.  Not to shame (well, ok, honestly maybe a little…) but not to demean.  I told him that T didn't have a good reason for being late.  He wasn't ready and missed his ride.  I told him T owed his coaches and team an apology and I expected him to work it out and get it done.  I also told him if he needed to run him extra for being late, we supported him in that. 

He looked shocked and didn't know what to say.  Then he kind of smiled, nodded his head and said, “Thanks.”

I know this is not the last time he will be late, do something insensitive, or (gasp) make a mistake.  T is an awesome boy.  And he will grow into an even better man.

When I picked him up I saw the last few minutes of their team meeting.  I saw him stand in front of his team/friends and coaches and then he took a knee again.  I didn't ask him what he said.  I just asked him if he took care of it and he said he did.  I hope he said he was sorry and meant it.  I was proud of him.  I hope he resolved in his heart to be more responsible.  And at the very least, to give it his best effort.

Last Night

After last night's fiasco of an evening...this is a good reminder for me to slow down and enjoy being the mom.

"The biggest mistake I made is the one that most of us make while [mothering]. I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of the three of them sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages 6, 4 and 1. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less."--Anna Quindlen

I think this applies to my relationship with Hub too.  Age is setting into the creases around his eyes and gravity is settling around his waistband.  Let's not even start of the list on me as I inch even further into middle age.  I remember those first moments of excitement when we were dating and newlyweds.  The falling part of love with him was wonderful.  Still is and it's even better now.  I need to remember to mentally capture some of the normal momentary great things he does that maybe I've just gotten used to.  I also need to remember to be a little better each day for his benefit too.

I find it difficult to be everything to everyone all of the time.  I know I'm not meant to be, but gosh...wish I could.

24 Hours in a Day...

I read somewhere that with 24 hours in the day, 8 of them being used up in sleep and 8 more being used up in "work"...where do the other 8 go?

I think I waste a ton of time, that's where.

So where does all my wasting go?  In the mornings, it's throw on some make up while the eggs are scrambling, beg J to eat said eggs and watch him ride off to school.

Heart Tug #1.

I rouse T and try to charm him into brushing his teeth, wearing a clean shirt and getting to the bus on time.

Heart Tug #2.

Then I do my hair while I'm trying to coax Lu into waking up happy and run out the door almost on time.

Heart Tug #3.

I get home from work, do something for dinner, get everyone where they need to be for the evening and BAM, it's bed time.  And usually the dishes aren't done, there's a load of laundry that either needs to be started, finished or folded and everyone's stuff is still laying right where they dropped it upon entering the house. Then add on whatever from the previous day and to be completely honest, sometimes I just don't want to do much at the end of the day.

I feel overwhelmed.  Often.

I know I need to lighten up and quit putting the extra pressure of "unattainable perfection" on myself, which ends up with me being cranky with everyone else, and that's never fun.  Houses really are never clean and laundry is really never done.  8 hours just seems like enough time to get some thing else significantly done and by the looks of my house, it ought to be a little higher on the priority list.  Or I could organize something.  Everywhere I look there is some "thing" that I could do.  That I should do.  I feel like a duck.  Calm on the surface and paddling like crazy under water.

Maybe the real questions is how should I use my time?  Continual effort in having a "House of Order"?  That is a valid thing of real importance.  I want the house relatively manageable so friends want to come hang out without me cringing at the mess.  I think a huge part is the effort we require of our kids vs the effort they actually put in.  We have a chores/rewards system that really doesn't work right now and I'm thinking some slight tweaking is in order.  If I do it all myself, what am I really teaching them?  Their efforts aren't good enough?  They can be lazy while someone else is working?  I know when my kids are grown and gone and my house is clean for more than 5 minutes, these are the days that I'll miss.  This quote from Thomas S. Monson kind of says it all.

I should place at a high priority giving them what they really need, even if it doesn't stack up to me being able to tick things off on a check-list.  Sometimes it is the physical-ness of a clean bathroom or a clean shirt, for sure.  Who better to learn life skills from than parents who love them.

Sometimes it's listening to the long version of a story about someone whom knowing isn't in the top 5 of the 100 things I have to get done.  Being invested in the small moments lead to having the larger moments.  Getting lots and lots of hugs and "sit by me's" is one of the best parts of my day.  It fills the void left from the heart tugs.  Running here and there, dropping off and picking up, supporting everyone is what we do together.  I over hear their conversations in the car and find out snippets of who they are when I'm not around.

As I'm feeling drained and exhausted from my day, I really should focus on them, and really be there in those moments because they need me.  The best me I can give.  I need them too.  By not having those 8 work hours with them, it makes me want the time I do have with them to be special.  "Wasting" time in a good way, which means it's not really wasted time at all.