Most of the time, I am very present in my life. I am there for my husband and my kids and my friends. I appreciate the things I have and the things I can do. I feel incredibly blessed to be who I am and where I am in the time I have here on earth. Most of the time, I pay attention.
But. And it's a big "but". There are times when I can go days or even weeks without really noticing the things that are going on around me. I am making lunches and walking through my neighborhood and having dinner with friends and helping my kids with their homework without ever really paying attention to lunches and my neighborhood and dinner with friends and my kids with their homework.
This past Friday, we packed the kids up as soon as they all got home from school and drove just an hour north to camp in a state park on a small lake. We don't usually camp once the kids are back in school, but we had a free weekend and decided to go for it.
That's how I got to wake up at 7:30 Saturday morning, step outside the door of the camper, and see this:
The lake, with steam rising off the top, the sun orange in the sky and, though I didn't snap the photo in time, two colorful hot air balloons floating off into the blue distance. And I noticed. I noticed the way the sun was warm on my face but the breeze was cold on my arms. I noticed the way the seagulls were soaring over the lake and their reflection was on the water. I saw the clouds and the ducks and the leaves on the trees. I noticed.
And the further into the weekend we got, the more I noticed, and the more I thought. My sweet A. catching his biggest fish ever, a large-mouth bass.
The sight of my three adventurous kids hiking in front of me on the trail.
A beautiful flower that I don't know the name of, but that was the only flower growing in a patch of green, some of which was Poison Ivy.
A still, quiet lake and the sounds around it: tree frogs and bird calls and my children laughing with each other.
My oldest son, E., walking out onto this fallen log, pushing the envelope as usual and loving every second of it. This could be our last camping trip with E., as next summer he'll be working and getting ready for college and who knows what else and might not have time to go camping with his family.
And conversations around the campfire, with the fire hot on my face but my arms and legs trembling from the cold. Talking about our favorite meals ever and funny jokes we've heard and how the Halloween Ghost Peeps we roasted over the fire tasted a little like Frosted Flakes. And the laughter. Always, the laughter.
I am not the kind of mom whose life is made up of only my children, all the time. I love them, and I enjoy them, but we are meant to raise them to be independent and to be able to, when the time is right, go off on their own. I think that D. and I will do fine someday when our children are grown and living their lives. I will not miss making school lunches or helping with homework or breaking up fights every single morning over breakfast.
But this. The laughing and the hiking and the conversations across a campfire. These are the things I will miss. That's why on weekends like these, I take special care not to sleepwalk through the days. Instead, I notice.
This whole parenting thing? It's hard. Really hard. I have three completely different children, who are completely different ages, and have completely different personalities. How do I stay consistent, and yet treat them each special? How do I give them each what they need when they need it, without completely losing myself and my sanity in the process? Especially when my parenting partner, my wonderful husband, is out of town so often and I do this by myself a lot?
Perhaps this is a good time to introduce my three children. My oldest son, E., is 17 and truly a pretty good kid. Sure, he plays video games too much, he rolls his eyes at me too often, and he hates school. But his two favorite places to be are out in nature, and in church. He is a loyal friend and a gentleman. He's almost an adult, and while there are things I worry about for him, I also think he's going to be an incredible man someday.
My only daughter, J., just turned 13 and is stuck somewhere between a little girl and a teenager. It's such a crazy time for a girl, that age where she still enjoys dressing her American Girl doll, but is also trying to fit in with the girls wearing makeup and tight jeans. She's got a heart of gold, though....she is usually thinking of others and gets along with everyone. My favorite thing about J. is that she knows who she is, and she doesn't make apologies for it. She loves herself. I adore that about her.
My youngest son, A., was our surprise child, and has been such a tremendous blessing to us. His just turned 9 and is our little comedian. He is funny without even trying, and has no problem being the center of attention. I wonder if he may be an actor someday. He's got that kind of personality. But he's also very intuitive, and very cerebral. He is not embarrassed to hug and kiss me and he still likes to have a little snuggle-time. A. will suddenly come out with a very random question and I can always tell he's been thinking it through for a long time.
So here are these three children, one of them nearly an adult. They don't like the same things or feel the same way about anything. Often, I say something to all of them and one of them laughs, one of them cries, and one of them looks at me like an alien just emerged from the top of my head. One of them listens to reason. One of them needs to just be told how it is with no reason involved. One of them uses sarcasm way too often and needs to be told over and over again to be respectful.
We are strict parents. I am very careful about what movies my children watch, what books they read, and who they hang out with. I often explain my reasoning to them, but they also know that I don't HAVE to give them a reason. They have to obey me even if they don't understand why. I raise my voice sometimes. I walk away sometimes so I don't say something I will regret. I, like most parents, try the best I can to do the best I can.
Parenting is so hard. It's so frustrating sometimes. But I look at my children today, sitting around the table at lunchtime and laughing as I tell them about a conversation I had with my friend, and I think, "How am I so blessed?" I see them helping each other (once in a while) and I have hope that they will make a difference in the world. I see how they treat their friends and I have the hope for good relationships for them in the future. I see them making good decisions and the right choices and I think that maybe they will be able to make it someday out there in the world on their own.
And some days, like today, I can't wait until that day comes!!! :)
