Don’t Blink

Something surprising happened while I busy with class the last few weeks.

Nate grew up and got a job.

I guess it’s not surprising that our kids grow up – but there are times when you are struck with how quickly it happened.

He had heard about a job possibility at  a sawmill in the area, so he worked overtime to finish up his school work so he would be ready, just in case. And he did it! He finished his senior year, except for a little bit of reading and a few Latin lessons that he is doing at night.

He literally woke up on Monday morning a home school student, got a phone call at noon, and woke up Tuesday morning as a full time employee.

Up and out the door by 6:30 in the morning, with a lunch and snacks he packed himself.

And an even more shocking development – he even does his own laundry because he ran out of work clothes.

He does come home every evening starving and is quite happy to enjoy a meal that I made. So I guess he still needs me, at least for a little longer.

And just like that, after 26 years of having kids in the house, I am home alone all day.

It’s true what they say of mothering – that the days may be long, but the years are short.

They grow up overnight when you aren’t looking.

Don’t blink.

Showing My Age

I had a birthday last month, but honestly, I didn’t feel any older. At least for awhile.

Three days actually.

Then on Sunday I as was working with the youth group at church, one gal noticed the old-school rotary telephone still hanging on the wall in the kitchen.

She got really excited.

“Is that a real phone?! How cool! Can I call someone on it? How do I dial?”

She proceeded to pick up the receiver and move the finger wheel all the way around to the finger stop, laughing at the sound it made.

“Oh my goodness! This is so cool! Do I have to go all the way around for every number?”

“Yes! All the way to the finger stop for each number!” I replied.

She continued dialing her home phone number while asking if would actually work.

I tried not to laugh as I replied, “Do you hear a dial tone?”

“Dial tone? What’s a dial tone?”

She looked confused until one of the other kids pointed out that it wasn’t plugged in.

“Oh! It isn’t charged!”

Now I feel old.

 

From The Archives: October 21, 2011

Packing

I seriously laughed out loud as I reread this one! Thanks Peter!

Packing and the Teenage Male

I spent a goodly part of one week helping Peter pack for his 10 day trip to Teen Pact Venture in Tennessee.

With 5 days on the road there and back and another 5 days at camp – it seemed to me that he needed a little guidance.

I helped him find more jeans, a suit coat, dress slacks, a outfit for golf and raided his dad’s t-shirts to make sure he had enough.

I carefully counted and folded and made nice piles for him.

I even bought him new underwear.

All the while there was this annoying little thought that kept coming back – “Why am I doing this? Peter is a teenage boy who has been known to wear the same clothes for days at time…”

But the mother in me couldn’t let it go.

I was even kinda proud as he drove off on his adventure because I knew that he was prepared.

It didn’t last long.

I was brought back to reality within minutes of picking him up after his return trip.

He looked good and was sharing story after story of his time away – laughing and joking with his siblings.

Finally the mother in me just couldn’t wait any longer – so I asked him, “How did your clothes work out? Did you have enough of everything?”

“Well”, he responded, “I basically wore these jeans pretty much all week.”

(His sisters slide further away from him on the van seat.)

“What!” (I’m remembering all those trips up and down the attic stairs digging through his winter clothes to find enough jeans) “How about t-shirts? Did you have enough t-shirts?”

“I had way too many – I really only needed a couple.”

“A couple!” (You were gone 10 days! What about my neat little piles of carefully folded and counted shirts?!)

“Oh dear. What about your underwear? Did you have enough… No! Stop! Don’t answer that. I really don’t want to know.”

Sometimes ignorance is bliss.

Next time I’ll let him pack himself. 🙂

Medal Worthy

I survived July.

That should get a medal.

I will admit to a feeling of relief when I could move the calendar page to August.

And speaking of medal worthy –

Nathan got his driver’s license last week. Our fifth and last child is officially a driver. We survived years of parallel parking lessons, endless white knuckle practice drives,  and worrisome first solo trips.

And – drum roll – this is the only time that we showed up at the courthouse with ALL the necessary paperwork and documents the first time!

I mentioned that fact to the Driver’s licence guy, who, incidentally, was the same one to issue all five learner’s permits and all five driver’s licenses through-out the years.

I asked if they gave out medals for that.

His reply, “Not usually. maybe a pat-on-the back.”

I’ll take it.

We also picked all the peaches before the coons got them!

I even thought about getting them in the freezer!

I’ve also thought about the fact that school should start soon.

And that I should probably put away all the VBS things that are sitting in piles in the basement.

And that the garden should be watered.

I can just guess what you’re thinking right now – “Wow, she is really rocking August! Somebody should give her a medal!”

I know, right!

Just wait till September!

 

 

Flying By…

Is it just me or did June fly by?!

Wasn’t Memorial Day just yesterday? And now we’re planning July 4th activities!

I can’t believe we’ve already celebrated Anna’s birthday with presents and family and cheesecake!

 “Cheesecake Gobble gobble Cheesecake, Gobble Gobble cheesecake. Cheesecake!”

And Father’s Day.

Which began with a boomerang on the roof, progressed to a kite in the farm pond and ended with bottle rockets and Roman candles.

I’ve spent hours digging out the garden and was surprised to see plants! Real vegetables growing despite the unconventional planting and absolute neglect!

It’s a miracle!

Nate’s band had their first big concert! They did a great job and drew a really nice crowd!

Look at him playing the electric guitar!

And just imagine the great story it will be if they ever get famous and can say their first big concert was on the stage behind Frosty Trete Ice Cream in Bedford, Iowa!

My parents came for the concert and stayed for a visit. We played games, went shopping and had a great auction adventure!

Two of my sisters came for a day! We filled it with talk and laughter and games and shopping.

And eating out. Of course.

I shivered in sweatshirts, sweated in tank tops and huddled in the basement waiting for the storm to pass.

I’ve hung loads of wet laundry in the sunshine and taken them in smelling of fresh air and blue sky.

And was awestruck by the site of billions of fireflies – like twinkle lights bedazzling the sky as far as the eye can see – shining so bright it was hard to see where the stars ended and the fireflies began.

I’ve heard the bobwhite quail, read books, and visited multiple greenhouses.

I’ve laughed at antics of adolescent chickens.

And repeatedly stepped over the baby kitties who have decided to live on the back step.

So much life was lived in the last month!

I guess that’s where June went – in big events, special moments, quiet joys, and the wonder that is found in every day life – if we look for it.

 

Home Hair Cuts

img_0278I am a big proponent of home hair cuts. We’ve done them for years.

They save money and time and generally turn out great – especially when it’s Grandpa giving our young sons military style hair cuts in the shop.

Things get trickier when those little boys become teenagers. They don’t want a hair cut any more – they want a hair style. And Grandpa is smart enough to not touch it.

Me – not so much.

It sounds easy when they say, “Hey mom – could you just take a little off the sides? ”

How hard can it be?

HA.

There’s undercuts and side burns and ears to trim around.

All with an electric trimmer.

They expect me to cut their hair holding a piece of vibrating metal with moving blades on the ends?! While wearing bi-focals?!

Really?!

Do they realize that the difference between perfection and a gaping bald spot is approximately 2.1637 seconds?

Not that I know this from personal experience or that any of my sons have ever, or are even now walking around with gaping bald spots…just hypothetically speaking of course.

A-hem.

Grandpa always tells them the difference between a good haircut and a bad haircut is about a week.  l think it’s longer for bald spots.

I have only drawn blood on one occasion but nothing that required emergency medical attention. He didn’t really need that ear tip anyway.

You would think that after a few bad cuts they would stop asking, but I guess I raised some really frugal kids.

I do make them promise that they will love me no matter what it looks like when I’m done.

Which is good, because quite honestly, you get what you pay for!

 

 

VBS Week

It was VBS week this week.

Many of you are nodding right now. You know exactly what VBS week means.

Busy days, late nights and exhaustion!

But also fun, laughter and blessings.

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I worked with an incredible group of kids!

A crazy bunch of teens who served with their whole hearts and kept me laughing!

13686678_1271086162904327_3183896377120225765_nThey memorized, rehearsed, and brought the characters of the nightly skit to life.

Teaching truth, sharing the gospel, and loving on the kids.

13668948_1270739699605640_8980708736091413003_nGames.

Crafts.

Bible lessons.

Snack time.

I sat back each night and watching God work in and through these servants.

And I was blessed.

 

The Black Shirt

DSC_0007Teen Pact is just a few days away and Buddy and I have working on packing him up.

As we went through his dress clothes for the days at the Capitol, we noticed something.

His black dress shirt was missing.

He looked in his closet.

No shirt.

I looked in his closet.

No shirt.

This is the shirt he wears with his cool green plaid bow tie.

This leaves him one shirt short for the week. He would have to wear one shirt twice. Oh dear. If you have a 15 year old son – you know this is a crisis.

He asks if it might gotten in with dad’s clothes. I didn’t think so – but checked through them thoroughly to be sure.

No shirt.

I even went through the seasonal clothes in the attic.

No shirt.

I report my findings at lunch.

“Maybe it’s stuffed between my bass drum and the bed.”

Okkkayyyy…

A search there revealed many interesting items – but no black shirt.

I found it this morning.

You’ll never guess where.

It was in his closet.

It had fallen off the hanger and was on the floor, buried under his Chewbacca suit, a ripped backpack, a wrench set, a bucket of legos, computer parts and a sleeping bag.

No wonder we missed it the first time – we were looking for a black shirt in a black hole.

I guess we’ll be doing a deep cleaning soon….

 

 

 

 

Daddy Mechanic

IMG_3282Once our kiddos started leaving the nest in their own vehicles, we thought there would be fewer cars for us to keep running.

Silly us.

Now, my husband not only keeps them running – he does it from a distance.

In the last few months he has fielded a bevy of interesting phone calls and texts.

“Hey Dad – my truck is making funny noises.”

“Should there be a puddle of pink stuff under my car?”

“My tailgate is falling off!”

“Why don’t I have heat?”

“My brakes went out on the way home.”

“The car died.”

And every time he has patiently listened to symptoms, asked critical questions, and given advice.

He has replaced water pumps,  fixed tailgates, changed numerous tires, driven a truck with no brakes to the mechanic and calmed a panicked daughter – more than once.

His bedside reading shelf now holds the manuals for each of their vehicles.

As he was studying one of those manuals the other night, I commented, “It’s almost a full time job keeping those cars running.”

He just smiled and said, “But at least they need me.”

Smart man.

 

Boys and Their Toys

Jan borrowed the neighbor’s trencher on Saturday.

There’s nothing like a new toy to brighten up a weekend and get teenage boys excited, especially one that has an engine and digs cool holes!

My boys were grinning from ear to ear in anticipation as they unloaded the trencher from the trailer and studied it carefully.

Imagine the excitement the first time the engine turned over and started!

IMG_2968They were having such a great time digging the trenches for the wiring in the two outbuildings that I was afraid they might get carried away and I would have trenches all over the yard.

Not to worry.

It seems that every trench they dug had to be filled in by hand.

As in manual labor.

Party over.

Time to find a tractor or a riding mower….