…at the chino house.

Because my babies are growing up.  I know that this should not surprise me.  But still it does.  It catches me off guard that my preteen does not want to hop in the car everytime I mention the library.  I feel a little lost when I realize that my children have stopped gathering around me like ducklings.  I still have one baby duckling of course.  Then there are the middle two that come and go, but are starting to be more independent.  And then there is the oldest, and he is trying to fly the coop.

One evening after VBS, Cole wanted to spend the night with some friends.  Now, since it is summer, this is not unusual, but I had made plans…those four words, I had made plans, that right there is where I get into trouble.  I like to make plans, and then I like for everyone to act like my plans are the greatest ideas they have ever heard of.  Goody goody gumdrops! That’s what your children are SUPPOSED to say when you tell them your plans for the day.  We are so happy that God made you our mother! Ok, that’s taking it a little far, but you get the point.

So, I had been chatting with a dear friend about ways to enlarge our creative minds this summer with some art projects, and she had graciously agreed to come over and help us stretch our own canvases as a fun start to summer art.  It would involve a staple gun.  And a hammer.  And banging and large movement.  This project was designed for a 12 year old boy.

But then, when presented with the oppurtunity to spend the night with friends, all of a sudden the art project had absolutely no allure.  Let’s face it.  Since it was my idea, it never had any allure for Cole.  But I really felt that once we actually did it, he would get into it.

So I had to decide if I was going to make Cole be a part of the family art activity or go with his friends.  It seems simple enough.  The problem is that every decision seems to boil down to a decision between family and friends right now.  And there is no way to make everyone happy.  Since Cole was spending the night with two friends who happen to have mothers who are in my corner, we were able to work out a compromise where he got to spend the night, but then all three boys came and joined in the art project the next morning.  Sound a little complicated?  Throw in a devastated Ben who was not getting to have a sleepover and the possibility that I was going to overwhelm my friend with three middle school boys instead of just one.

It all turned out ok.  Lora is brilliant and wonderful and we all stretched canvases together.  It should, of course, come as no surprise to anyone that Cole’s friends, Alex and Tony, were WAY more into the project than Cole.

I tell you this story because most of our summer days have been like this so far.  Navigating the span that my kids are currently covering is awkward for me, and I have not been doing it with much grace.

In fact, I recently realized that I’m grieving the way we are changing.  I want to do summer as we have always done, where we go swim and read and camp and play, and though there are squabbles, we all enjoy the same activities.  We at least all enjoy being in the same place. I’m not even going to delve into the matter of Cole’s disgust over our belonging to the family swimming pool instead of the other pool, you know, Mom, the one EVERYONE goes to.

Every day seems new and unfamiliar.  I wonder if I will ever get the hang of it.  I pray for wisdom to know which plans to hold onto and which ones to release. When to leave him behind and when to make him come along.