Celebrating 15

Of all my kids, he was the one to take off alone.  

Always on the lookout for a new path to follow, an abandoned place to break into, a new neighbor, or hallow tree to explore.  

He was the one who went missing one Christmas day when he was 6 and we found him eating Christmas dinner at the neighbors house with their grandchildren.  

The one who snuck out of the house when I was nursing 1 month-old Maisie and lead to me running down the street calling for him with Maisie still in a tight latch.  

He was discovered at another neighbors house eating pizza with them at the dinner table.  

He was 4.  

The boy was made of curiosity and adventure.

He had places to go and things to do.

There wasn't much standing in his way. 

Of all my kids, he's my risk taker.  

The one who scares me the most.  

He's the bravest, yet the most vulnerable. 

He's making me earn the title of being 'Ross's Mom'

And it's taken me 15 years to learn I cannot corral this kid.  

He's been a caged-up tiger in a zoo for too long.  But he wasn't born a zoo-tiger.  

He was born a jungle tiger.  And he needed more.  

More competition.  More people.  More experiences.  More compassion.  More obstacles to overcome and more push.

No two kids are alike.  

If I've learned anything over the past 15 years, it's that one child cannot be compared to, or parented the same as another child.  

They are all individuals.

Therefore, I've cut yet another strand off the cord, and he's navigating life as a Winterset Husky this year.   

I'm not there to watch over him.  I'm not there to rescue him when he forgets to have his permission form signed, forgets his practice shoes or realizes he doesn't know how to use the credit card correctly for gas at the gas pump.  But he's figuring it out on his own.  

One day he will leave here and have no problem going off on his own.  He's already kinda done it... many times.

So today he turns 15.  In a year he'll be 16.

In a world full of unknowns,  I know his faith is strong and his heart is kind.  I know he is vulnerable, but he is also an overcomer.  

This year he is number 15 on the field.  

I'm choosing to celebrate each day, each hurdle, each success and each day God hand-picked me to be his mom.  

This year I'm celebrating to embrace 15 for so many reasons.

Yard Work

Ever since last weeks storm, Molly has been itching to get outside and do some yard work.  

Once she got the hang of gathering branches, loading them onto the mule, driving them to the burn pile, unloading them, and repeating the process over, and over again, she told Jayson he needed to get outside and help out.

I could overhear Molly encouraging Jayson throughout the process. 

"Wow Jayson, you're SO strong!" 

"You are REALLY good at yard work Jayson." 

All I could think of was what a great big sister she is.

In other news, Ross is dealing with sore feet and ankles due to football practices.  He's had a couple days off to rest and I've been forcing him to ice them each day at least once.  

I'm hoping he'll be good as new for practice Monday.  

I'm also hoping he washes his hands.

Molly Turned 10

On a picture perfect Saturday night I took these 3 rascals to a drive-in movie at the school.  

They were SO excited.  You'd have thought we were heading to the moon.

 

Of course we had to pack ALL the outdoor furniture cushions and old comforters I store in the house to create a bed in the back of the truck incase they got too sleepy.

Oh, and the movie didn't start until 9.

Sheesh!  Thankfully we didn't have to sit through previews.

Jay looks completely uninterested as he stares into space and itches his balls inhte below shot, but I promise he enjoyed the movie too.

And because we weren't born yesterday, we knew to smuggle our own popcorn in brown paper grocery sacks. 

Molly's ACTUAL birthday finally happened on Monday.  

She was a super-crab when she woke up because the box fan in her room stopped working the night before which made her too hot to sleep and Maisie was scared of a creepy doll coming to life and haunting her. 

Therefore, both girls ended up on the couch through the night and were woken super early by Jay talking to his Roblox characters.

But, the show had to go on and ear piercing was on the morning agenda.  

Yes, she's had her ears pierced before, but they closed up.

So we packed into the truck and made our way toward Des Moines as we noticed the crazy dark storm clouds rolling in.  

I figured we could beat it.  My truck does have EcoBoost (as Jay taught me).

But then the rain started.

And then the wind.

I told the kids I was thinking of pulling over, to which they replied, "NO, just go Mom."

Fine.

So with my hands at 10 and 2, music blaring through the radio, Molly looking a little nervous and Maisie saying how much she loved the threat of storms, we continued down the interstate through the derecho.

We had ears to pierce for crying out loud, and we weren't going to let anything stop us.

Claires, or Bust.

And that, was that.  

Her ears are pierced and she's officially 10.

Friend Parties

 The 10th Birthday friend party is DONE.

Molly's suddenly into making random expressions for the camera.  

Feeling blessed she actually cares and at least makes eye contact.

Feeling extra blessed we only had one puker (it was no bigs and she hit the toilet straight on.  Not her first rodeo at our house)

I'm one of those parents who really doesn't mind slime.  

But glitter slime- Nope!  

Not impressed with this gift. 

I feel sabotaged.

Swimming was a hit for those in the water.  

For this mama, who was sweating through her shirt, struggling through a rough bout of PMS, being bit by flys, and listening to Jay complain about being wet and hot and providing a dialogue of Back to the Future scenarios he insisted I participate in, while Maisie whined about any and every physical ailment she could think of before finally threatening to "pee her pants," I was starting to consider all my options for surviving the afternoon.

These two were floating along as I told them they looked like an old couple and I wanted a picture.  

Molly immediately giggled and said to her friend "Get over here fatty!"  

Seriously?  

At the same time I felt completely mortified, I began to wonder how much better life would be if we could all live and act like we were 10 years old again.

We Love Primping

She's always been a primper.

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And therefore, I've dreamt of the days she and I would primp together in the bathroom.

To clarify, we have absolutely nowhere to go.  

Doesn't matter though.

She pulls out all the eye shadows, plugs in both the blow dryer and straightener, uses all my make-up and hair brushes and every aerosol can of Suave is on the counter.  

As soon as I feel like primping a bit, she decides to join me.  Oh, and she usually chooses to stand right in front my mirror, forcing me to do a "guess-and-check" make up application and hairdo.

But she's always been my little beauty queen and prefers manicures and mascara to any physical activity or sports camp.

I know darn well these days won't last long. 

It's no secret the I'm going to blink and she's going to want nothing to do with me.

That's why I'm letting her have the mirror.  Why I add the laptop to the cluttered bathroom counter so we can sing along to Dixie Chicks and Taylor Swift as we apply our blush and practice her 'messy bun.'

So I'm going to be dang sure she know the tricks to contouring those amazing cheekbones, perfect eye shadow application for us girls who don't have much lid, and disguise to hide under-eye puffs (all of which she gets from me).  

These days are limited and my teaching window is short.

Luckily, I have an extremely interested, gorgeous and artistic student.

It's Gettin' Weird In Here

So this little moo bear turns 10 in just a few days.  

What does that mean?  

I'm old.  

I'm confident she's going to start, or continue to finish where her siblings left off to drive me completely to the finish line of insanity.  

As G'funk would say, Oh whatever, I was partly there already and didn't have much planned anyway.  

As I was searching for a toddler photo of her with her platinum blonde hair and notorious tongue (a weak moment?) , I started reading my posts and realized what I was missing.

This blog is a life long love letter to THEM.  

That's all.  

Someday when they're raising kids of their own, wondering WTF to do and why didn't mom warn me about this, they can revisit to this blog and realize we all go into parenthood blind and with our fingers crossed, with strong young hearts ready to demolish anything, or anyone that gets in their way.

Sometimes I tend to type better than I do talk, so here it goes.

This little thing is her father.  She loves to be by his side and constantly busy.  She's easy to anger and will pick a fight with a worm if she needs to.  When she is kind, she is SO kind.  When she is pissed, she'll rip your head off.  She's a bottomless pit and won't miss a meal without feeling faint. She's protective of everyones feelings. She a snuggle buggle and can make anyone laugh at the drop of a hat with silliness.  She lives life as though there's no tomorrow.

She's also me.  She loves to be by my side and wants to know, "what are we going to do next."  She loves yard work days where we run out daylight before we can get our work done.  She loves to sweat and feel the feeling of accomplishment, exhaustion and sore muscles.  She loves animals and prefers goats to humans. She finds her relaxation in staying busy and constantly on-the-go.  She takes chances and has fun.

I

While on vacay to Utah, Molly's lips got SO chapped.  

As evidenced in this photo she looks like an Avon lady.  That dry air business is not for us.  

Yeah, this little dude caught a lizard within an hour of arriving at our compound in Utah.  

But that's not why I posted the photo. 

It's the gold chain.  

When Heather and I turned 14, G'funk bought us each a gold chain.  As I hover 42 years, I no longer want to draw attention to my neck, and Ross was in the market.  

The rest is history.

 

Meanwhile, masks have been deemed "mandatory" for I-35 return to learn plan.  

I was so excited to be the innovative teacher with the shield.  

I have hearing impaired students, for God sake and masks make it hard for ME to hear (as I realize I'm more of a lip reader than a listener),

So this showed up today and I realized I looked more like a white Walter Peyton than a teacher.  It just wasn't the look I was going for this year.  

So back to the drawing board I go...

Who knew!

And after nearly a month, Lucky's balls finally fell off.  

We were starting to wonder if he'd have a dehydrated ball sack hanging between his legs for eternity.  

Turns out, that wasn't his destiny and we captured it on a cutting board.  

We're not farmers.  

But we're not city-folk either. 

Did Ross put a castration ring around his tip of his penis and need my help cutting it off?  

You bet he did.  

This is my life, my kids and my story.

Wouldn't have it an other way...