Happy 21st Birthday, Post-Season Playoffs, and “Adulting” Lessons

Our youngest turned 21 at 11:23 pm last Tuesday night. Soooo glad Michael was born–and just 23 minutes after we arrived at the hospital. That delay was not because the OB had said “take your time,” (we remembered all too well that our first baby was born within one hour), but because we were watching the exciting, Seattle Mariners, playoff game against the NY Yankees. Apparently, the OB took her own advice, because she saw the end of that playoff game, while we did not. Ken thought he might have to deliver Michael in the car. A Resident delivered the babe, and only after Ken grabbed his shirt and said, “Do not leave this room. This baby is coming soon!”

My sister gave back to me a treasure trove of the photos I’d sent to her over the years.

Michael was in a hurry to get into the world, yes, but in a vampire way of preferring the dark of midnight. He’s grown into the night-est of all night prowlers I’ve ever met, with a huge adjustment from late-night, college life to day-time, working life this fall. I really do think a gap year can be helpful to students’ living into all this painful learning called “Adulting.” And the best news to me is: his supervisor is now responsible for teaching those life lessons about being on time and not over sleeping. I promise I tried my best for 20 years: witness any of the 17 times his sophomore fall that he missed the high school bus and had to pay us for a ride through unpleasant chores, or call an Uber, or run the 4 miles. (BTW, did you know that Uber doesn’t let kids under 18 order rides?)

Speaking of 21st birthdays, today Michael and Ken were running all over Palatine trying to get papers notarized to transfer his custodial bank account into his name, now that he’s a major. Thank you, Grandma Gail for starting a sweet little account 20 years ago “to help buy your first car.” A car now necessitated by totalling “Kate,”, his 15-year-old, phantom-blue bomber that we provided four years ago and which reached 140,000 miles to-from the quad cities, home, and the lake. (Thankful no one was hurt; R.I.P. Kate.)

As E.T. would say, “Ouch.”

Michael’s actually an excellent driver–and one with ADHD. We always encouraged him as a kid that we knew he’d grow up to be a safe driver, a good husband and dad, a follower of Jesus, and a good citizen. Positive vision-casting doesn’t prevent negative experiences from hitting hard. With a loud crunch.

Life lessons with our adult kids have included: how to budget your paycheck (hint: take-home pay is what remains after tax is deducted); understanding and paying for car insurance (a story problem: if someone’s car insurance rate increases $70 per month from getting a speeding ticket, how much will it increase when you total one?); researching and buying a used car; and planning a cross-country move. Plus refresher lessons on being a good roommate to your parents, recovering from messy breakups, changing a pothole-damaged tire, that credit cards charge a late fee AND interest, and dealing with cranky bosses. I told my therapist that one of Michael’s shining moments was successfully learning to do his own laundry in FIRST grade. I still revel in the fact that laundry was NEVER my problem as mom; only he dealt with finding a clean uniform for the big game in any sport. We take any parenting victories we can get.

The vanity plates I gave Ken for his 60th. Get it? Genesis 1:10…. I know, dumb pastor humor!

“Adulting” is truly exhausting for each of us. And we all learn life lessons best in real time, but usually only after we blow it. Why does it take so much time and effort to “Adult?” And why am I still learning how after my own 21st birthday’s 34th anniversary? Today I sent the guys on a goose chase, not knowing the difference between getting a medallion signature and a notarized one for that account transfer.

Really, all I need to say is: we are proud of Michael, we love the man he’s become, we cheer him on as a great preschool teacher, we pray for him daily and hourly, and we’ll try our best to coach him more than tell him how to “Adult.” And Ken’s shining parenting moment? The morning after Michael’s crash, Ken threw him the keys to his beloved, Genesis coupe and announced, to Michael’s surprise, “Take my car to work. I believe in you.” That’s all any of us need to hear.

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Kids + Life = Surprise!

Anything shock you lately? Surprise your socks off? Blue hair might fall in that category….

Before we were even dating, my husband Ken asked me to throw him a surprise 30th birthday party. “Um, if you’re expecting the party, how do I surprise … oh, never mind. Sounds like a fun challenge.” It turned out to be a great gathering of friends. He’s asked me to throw him a surprise party every 5th year since: a tacky tourist party, a micro-brew hangout, a 70’s bash, a family scavenger hunt, and a church-wide mission project. Each an extrovert’s delight.

Not all kid surprises equal good parental surprises though. Like the baby blowouts that necessitated “Mr. Clean” Ken’s changing Carlina’s clothes three times in a row in his first hour of singlehandedly caring for her. An unshakeable father-daughter bond formed that messy summer. While Ken was relieved and delighted to start teaching again in fall, he wouldn’t trade those early months together for anything. Such love surprised him. Bad beginning, good ending, paying dividends for the last eighteen years and counting.  All of which paved the way for our recently-applauded, “chill response” to Carlina’s post-Christmas, blue hair. Surprise!

It doesn’t always work that way. In our house with two students flexing their independence and two parents dealing with new jobs, right now there are not enough “chill responses” to go around. Exhaustion. Impatience. Anger. Fear. Stress. Change. Overwork. These factors eat fun for lunch–or dinner–no matter what age your kids are.

Even the good intentions of a surprise–a mother’s day dinner out–predictably went awry with our two and six-year-old, devolving into an overpriced whine-fest. (p.s. Don’t ever recap such an event by saying, “No biggie; I’ve finally lowered my expectations enough, so I thought it was a good Mother’s day anyway.” Do not speak such exhausted mama-truth to your earnest husband. Don’t even think it loudly.)  I frequently say the wrong thing at the right time.

John Lennon said, “Life is what happens to you when you’re on your way to somewhere else.” Kids+ Life = “Surprise!” What about receiving the late night phone call every parent of a teen driver dreads? Finding a wadded-up, lousy report card? Discovering your kid is being bullied by classmates … or doing the bullying? Rushing to the ER, triggering a chain of medical treatments? Facing student depression and/or struggling with disorders?

Anytime a kid starts a pronouncement, “I’ve got something to tell you, Mom. Don’t get mad, but _____,” what comes next will in all likelihood be life-changing: “I lost my _____.” Or, “I missed the _____, but hit a _____.” Or,”I’m _____.”Or, I tried my best, but _____.” Or, meet my new _____.” Surprise!

As a family minister, my conversations often begin when your difficult family conversations end. Though it seems students never put down their devices, our kids are watching us sideways and listening closely to how we respond to “Surprise!”

And I’m not talking about blue hair here, which obviously grows out. I’m thinking about the biggies. In fact, such disasters and follow-up conversations are so predictable with teens that a wise parent brainstorms or role-plays in advance how to respond–sidestepping anger and reaching up for God’s love, mercy, and  grace. With discipline as needed. But not until the next day.

Our words matter. Most of us are not good at thinking on our feet and responding quickly with kindness or love. Then we replay these hard conversations over and over in the middle of the night. I know I need practice being calm & gracious, how about you?

Truth be told, these conversations with students never really end. They just begin a new series of discussions. A student recently tweeted, “The problem lies not in what we say, but in what we do not say.” Can we plan ahead for what we might say–and what we promise ourselves and those we love we will not say?

At Families@Five, a worship service for young families at Second Church Indy, we prayed a simple prayer together to confess our sins every week, followed by our assurance of pardon, “Turn and look someone in the eye and say to them, ‘Jesus loves you no matter what.'”

How can we say that in the face of “Surprise?” How can we respond with God’s-no-matter-what-love, “Nothing you can do can make us love you more and nothing you can do can make us love you less. Your life might get harder, but we’ll love you through it.”

Revelation 21:3-6 gives us a clear, beautiful picture of Jesus as our starting–and ending–point in conflict and in tough situations.

And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”

And he who was seated on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.” Also he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.” And he said to me, “It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end.

If Jesus is with us, if we are his people, and if God himself is with us as our God, then Jesus has got this surprise covered. If Jesus can handle even this surprise from beginning to end,  if Jesus will wipe away every tear and all this pain,if Jesus will make all things new, then we will be ok. More than ok. This situation and we will become new.

“Sure,” you might say, “But what about right now, when life sucks?” What about the time before heaven, this in-between-time, when we have to live the reality of stupid choices, when there’s danger or fall-out, when our kids face tough consequences and life-altering decisions, when we pour out tears and regret?

Or when we’re not ready to move through it yet, but mired in denial, anger, conflict, or stubbornness, and kids are stoney in rebellion or headstrong persistence, a long way from repentance?

Jesus’ promise isn’t for just someday. Jesus is making all things new right now.

Jesus doesn’t give up when it gets hard, or when we mess up, or when we stink at forgiving, or when we say the worst possible things at the worst possible time. Jesus doesn’t wait on us to parent well or to get our stuff together to begin working in the situation, and Jesus doesn’t wait for our kids to realize the error of their ways. Jesus’ work in us and in our kids is not over when we fail. Hear Philippians 1:6, “[I am] confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.”

Even in the now, we can ask for the Spirit to help us love with Jesus’ love, in small ways immediately. We can take one step toward giving mercy with Jesus’ mercy and forgiving with Jesus’ forgiveness. We can be ready for the new, even when it is painful in the now and in the days to come. Jesus has already redeemed us and already redeemed even this situation. It is already accomplished, not by us, but by God. It begins and ends with Jesus: “These words are trustworthy and true. And he said to me, “It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end.”

We can respond to our kids with what we all long to hear,”We love you. We’re in this together. And God is in this. God is for you.” Surprise!

 

For excellent ideas on praying for your family, see Cindi McMenamin’s article http://www.crosswalk.com/family/parenting/7-ways-to-pray-when-your-child-goes-astray.html (accessed 1/27/17).

Stuck? Throw an “Inch Pebble” Party

Doesn’t fb really stand for “family bragging?” Posts like: “Look at the clever Halloween costumes we made” (with help from a professional makeup artist and the costumer from Lion King?) 14639899_10153984291182918_8499421417956026212_n “My quarterback son just cured cancer during halftime of his Homecoming football game,” or “We— I mean–my daughter won the science fair blue ribbon.”

Am I the only one overwhelmed by parenting my kids, let alone comparing myself to other, overachiever families? (Just because I can’t get my act together to post fb pictures doesn’t mean we’re not having jaw-dropping, creative, family fun–it means you don’t have a good enough imagination.)

We all set basic goals for our kids’ growth (i.e .learning how to use a fork and knife). We help them practice skills and hone talents (not including how to armpit fart–boys teach that to each other.) We help them make mid-course corrections in order to become responsible citizens of the world. (“When you earn a D on your report card, no one but you think that means ‘I have a crappy history teacher.’ The rest of the world thinks, ‘He didn’t do the work.'”) And as families, we get stuck sometimes.

For ministry training this week, I’ve been reading an excellent book called Switch: How to Change Things When Change is Hard by Chip and Dan Heath. aclkNot a church-y book, a business book. It covers how to build hope and create forward momentum, even how to make big changes through asking people to take incremental, easily do-able steps. Applicable to get your teen to clean a room, to pay off your enormous college debt, or change that most stubborn behavior.

Good points of the book are: 1) motivate rather than impose change by following the bright spots, 2) build on what’s going well, 3) make it easy to change right now by setting a clear path.

Aiming for your child to be successful in milestones (straight As on the report card or making the A team) is too overwhelming. Heath says to break it down even further. He writes,

piled-smooth-gray-pebbles-3836837Aim for family “inch pebbles.”

Especially for our kids, we might take the time to shrink the problem to what is doable NOW, one inch at a time. OR we can grow our kids by motivating and helping them really want to move the next pebble (celebrations,  vision casting, bribes all help build new pebble-moving habits). Create a path out of “stuck” by providing positive, actionable clarity. Heath says it works better every time than loud, parental “no’s” or even our best, can-do speeches.

It’s as if we flipped the switch on our kids–we suddenly move the pebble forward the next inch in the next five minutes. Worth throwing a party? Yes.

Teen hack: the power of ice cream and 4 simple words to say to students

I learned this leader/parent hack from Kara Powell of Fuller Youth Institute in a seminar at the Orange conference this month. I put it into immediate good use with Confirmation students. One smart, smart boy was having trouble finishing his faith statement—he was all about God as his father, but Jesus seemed to be an issue.

I learned from his parents he had nTX8aeETBquestions, especially about how faith and science fit together, and he was willing to meet with me.

When we met after school over ice cream, I asked him about his beliefs about Jesus. He looked incredibly uncomfortable, wishing to have his braces tightened instead of this impending interrogation.

I covered the orthodox biblical basics about Jesus as the Son of God, fully human and fully God: Jesus was present at Creation and he then came to earth as a baby, lived a sinless life for us, died for us on the cross, and rose again for us. “Sound familiar?”

Even though this student couldn’t articulate all that himself without prompting, (especially between bites of a grasshopper sundae), he surprised me and said, “Yeah I believe all that. It’s what I have been taught all my life. No problem.”yckg7pB7i“Okay, so rather than guess, why don’t you tell me what your questions are?”

“Well I want to know about creation. How did it happen? I know someone who believes, ‘Pop! People appeared right out of thin air. Created. Bam. Not me. How did Creation happen?”

As life-long believer and 15-year family minister, as Rev. Dr. Green, M.Div., D.Min, I do have plenty of answers ready to pull out of my back pocket. But instead, I “powelled” it and started with “I don’t know, but we can maybe figure it out together.”

He visibly relaxed. I followed up, “Anyone who tells you they know how Creation actually happened for sure is lying.” He actually laughed, “Yeah.” Now I had him. In conversation.

“You know the Bible isn’t a science or history text book, right? So it doesn’t try to tell us exactly how it happened but that God created us and created us good, in His image. We can look up the verses in a minute. Did you know there are two creation stories in the Bible? How do you think it happened?”

He talked for a minute about the Big Bang, “I’m not exactly sure how it worked either. But that makes me feel better that I don’t have to know exactly or believe only one thing exactly to have faith in God and Jesus and be confirmed. And to keep going to Church.”

I thought to myself, “Ahhh. So that’s what’s at stake.”

I agreed aloud with him, “Yep, I don’t know either. I’m not a scientist. But I do know it does take faith to believe in God’s creating us AND it takes faith to believe in a scientist’s hypothesis, because none of us knows for sure. Faith and science can go together, can help us figure it out. And science definitely helps us appreciate the wonders of creation as they are always making new discoveries about life and new forms of life.”

“Like in the ocean! I know.! I always watch Animal Planet. And the History channel.”

“History? Oh, you wrote in your faith statement you want to be an archeologist, right? LiKkXoGXTDid you know they are discovering new finds about the stories in the Bible like the Exodus? It turns out maybe they were looking in the wrong place and the wrong time period and that’s why they didn’t find much evidence before now.”

“Cool. I’d like to know more about that. I have lots of questions about the Bible, too. But that’s okay, right?”

“Yep. You have a smart brain and are sort of a philosopher I think, so you might really get this. I think of faith this way: we bring all we know of ourselves to all we know of God at this time. And those are both gonna be changing as we grow.”

“Yep. I like that.

“What do you think? Does that help you? Are you ready to confess your faith in Jesus publicly and join the church?

“Yep. And I might help with VBS too.”

Ahh. The power of ice cream and 4 simple words, “I don’t know but…” Why do those words work? Kara says they give permission to ask questions and to doubt, which kids will do anyway. They chase away silence.

How?

“I don’t know, but…”

 

 

 

Not Your Ordinary, Average, Little Villians

Three surprisingly strange messages are worth passing on to your kids:

Message one: God made us extraordinarily ordinary. Our neighborhoods sound like Lake Wobegon, “where all the women are strong, all the men are good-looking, and all the children are above average.” Our kids have a tough time competing with the illusion or expectation of exceptionalism. They may not be picked for the team or surrounded by friends in the lunchroom. They will fail the final, let in the crucial goal, flub the well-rehearsed audition, bump the curb in the driver’s test—again, and panic in the clutch. On the surface (or on facebook), others may look like they have it all together or–at least got accepted to their first-choice college.Our kids will face disappointment and failure daily.

  • Fail. Rinse. Repeat. Failure is not optional. They will face it. Hopefully, not alone. We parents are designed to coach and encourage, not only to protect. To stand them on their toddling-feet again.To hold the wobbly, two-wheeler firm and then let go.DSC_3242.jpg

To help them fix the fender dent out of their own savings. To listen, to hug, and wipe away tears—at any age. To affirm character growth more than achievement.

Yes, they will have great moments of brilliance when they score 100 percent, sink the perfect shot, rake leaves for the widow next door, hit it out of the ballpark, give a kickin’ performance, win the girl’s heart. Followed by failure again.

  • Our acceptance and God’s. By our acceptance of and constant care for our kids through failure, we show that we are made by our Creator to live–not on the mountaintop–but in the plains, or even in the dark valley. We are not alone there. If there’s one lesson that’s clear in a Bible crammed with oddballs, screw-ups, and dysfunctional families, it’s that God meets us in our failures more often than our triumphs. We pay better attention when we are not at high altitude. In the valley, we need God’s help and we ask for it, we beg for it. We discover God’s love anew, sometimes in and through others acting in ordinary ways.

After all, isn’t this the message of Christmas: Emmanuel, God with us, God born in a manger, God living here on earth? God made us ordinary and God meets us right here in our ordinary moments

Message two: God’s grace knows no bounds for his beloved children. Our grace does. As parents, as we seek to love our children compassionately, we need to be “wise as serpents, gentle as doves.” I love what Kara Powell writes: “the odds are great that your child will ‘cross the line,’ or for some of our kids, catapult over the line.” Parents hold kids accountable for their choices and actions. We attempt to deliver relevant, immediate consequences. We try to do it without anger, but, let’s face it, we’re not all that good at it. God is. Sometimes we surprise them with a “get-out-of-jail-free card,” a penalty-free do-over, undeserved gracebandit-clipart-western_036.gif bigger than the moment requires.

If the little villians “name it and claim it,” apologize, take responsibility, and ask for forgiveness, yes, we forgive…but we shouldn’t necessarily forget. Don’t be a pushover. Our job as parents is to create and hold safe boundaries for our kids in a world without guardrails.

If we wish to form our children’s identities in Christ as beloved, forgiven sinners who are responsible citizens of God’s great big world, we can’t forget they bear each of these names: beloved, forgiven sinners.

  • Beloved. How can we best pass on God’s great-big-no-matter-what-love and surround our kids with a community of faith that adopts, values and encourages them, too? Love happens in little and in big moments every day. Be all in. Love your kids and others’ kids. As the apostle Paul exhorts, “Love wholeheartedly.”
  • Forgiven. God forgives and forgets. We work to forgive. To keep current, with short list of issues. To clear the air frequently, especially when they “don’t want to talk about it.” But we can’t forget—yet. Maybe after the college years. (“So, mom, remember that mysterious mailbox problem back in 1985?”) Truth doesn’t always come out completely at first…or ever. We need to be on the lookout for underlying, heart issues so we can point and guide kids back to reality, directly to the God who forgives. That’s because kids are also…
  • Sinners. Kids are notoriously sneaky, fallen beings. That said, we try to assume the best until we find reason not to hope. Meanwhile, we keep our eyes and ears wide open, whether they are toddlers, stuck in the “nos” and testing out their newly-minted wills or whether they are second-toddlers (aka teenagers,) pulled by unrelenting forces, including their own hormones and desire for independence.

toonvectors-12731-140.jpgOur original sin is never very original. Thankfully, kids make mistakes in covering their tracks. Kara Powell encourages parents, “Don’t panic. There are very few issues you will face as parents that are irredeemable, even the biggies…. The ultimate hope that is part and parcel of trusting God is the hope we have that in the long run, God’s mercy will win.” Jesus went to the cross, to hell and back to deal with sin, to provide for our salvation. We can be bold, pray hard, and face family issues head on.

Message three: pain can be good for us. We need to help our kids face this hard reality: God doesn’t promise success or an easy life; God promises His presence. God promises to be with us in our pain. This lesson needs to be modeled. It will be “caught more than taught” to our kids from us instead of by us.

Model pain. Sometimes pain serves as an early warning system. How do we face failure or tough man-and-girl-reading-bible.jpgcircumstances? How do we cope on Wednesday afternoon during a crushing week of disappointment upon disappointment? Do we let others into our lives to help, pray, and encourage us?

Name it. Kara Powell continues, “Having the support of caring parents who do not hide pain or struggle from their kids can help kids navigate the heartache and hardship of life in a broken world…. We must engage our kids in honest conversation and dialogue, soliciting their opinions and voice during those times of struggle. If you are honest and open with any issue of life or faith, your child will be a better thinker, not to mention theologian.” When life takes a wrong turn, we can grow and learn together with our families when we earnestly seek to follow God and ask for God’s help. High impact lessons can come from even our biggest screw-ups or deepest hardships. Pain pushes us to God, pushes us to grow.

Parents Must Be Present To Win. Here is our assignment:  just three messages to send out, but we must be there, all in. AND we do not need to go it alone. God’s kids, God’s truth, God’s grace to us as parents and to them.

We’re ordinary, beloved, forgiven sinners who face pain and failure in life. God packs in hope and freedom, love and grace abundantly along the way. We rediscover “the LORD, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love,” who is more than enough to help us face today and tomorrow. We are bearers of good news to our kids, worth believing ourselves and worth passing on.

Do I Belong? Dragging kids to Church

I asked my fourteen-year-old why he never wants to hang around church anymore. He answered thoughtfully, “Nobody really talks to me. You know, Mom? People don’t introduce themselves to new people or people they don’t know.”

Hoping for a chance to hear more, I responded, “I can see how it feels that way. But remember, you’re a teenager now and we have our own corner of the church, so we don’t always see other people. We’re newish and they don’t all know you yet– plus you don’t go to everything, either. Do you think that messes things up?”

As a teen, his Sunday-morning-persona ranges from somnambulist to tortured p.o.w. and his responses to adult attempts at chatting resemble gorilla’s grunts.

“So there are what, three events a year, and I missed one? And let’s see, 40 people have dinner together on Wednesdays–but only five students come.  This church really doesn’t do “everybody-get-together” stuff. Don’t you remember the chili cook-off and international dinner at our last church?  At our old church all the families did stuff together all the time. Caroling and BBQs, remember? I guess the Chois and the Wengers here are good at inviting people over. So that’s two pluses.”

Fascinating. In two years since we moved, he has rarely mentioned a friend his age whom he misses or talked about anyone in particular from Chicago other than cousins. Yet he misses the feeling of belonging .and being known at church, being cheered for, and being loved by whole families, by all ages, parents included. I was listening. I didn’t try to argue why Church is good for him or why he should go. His feelings matter as much as those Truths (and they can wait. They will still be true later.)

Granted this is from the kid who used to be the self-appointed mayor of our last church. Now he’s no longer the kid of the senior pastor, no longer the darling of the little old ladies. And I must add, no longer very talkative, either. As a teen, his Sunday-morning-persona ranges from somnambulist to tortured p.o.w. and his responses to adult attempts at chatting resemble gorilla’s grunts.

PaperArtist_2016-02-24_22-27-00

In other words, my son told me he longs to belong and to be known. I am so glad my son is connected with a mentor this year as he goes through Confirmation. A kind, displaced-midwesterner with a friendly smile and ready laugh, whom our daughter named “the most joy-filled person in the church.”  His healthy interest in our son makes a difference.

As adults, our efforts matter to learn students’ names, to keep track of their activities, to ask how “the big game went” or “what are the dance plans?” Please move past their “I-don’t-care” mask to reach for the heart. One person a week, reaching out in one pew, can make or break a kid’s church experience. It’s not complicated. Open our eyes, open our hearts, open our mouths to welcome, saying without words, “You belong.”

 

10…9…8…Launched!

From age three on, our curly-haired darling would announce, “I’m going far, far away from you, mama!” And so she has. Argentina, to be exact. Launched into the great big world at 17. At age four, we left her at Grandma’s as we led a two-week high school trip to Greece. We could barely get her to stop playing long enough to speak to us on the phone, “I’m never ever gonna see you again but it’s ok, ‘cause Grandpa and I are having so much fun. Bye!”

The sense of independence that began with visits to Gram and Gramp increased in ever-widening circles, aided by “so much fun!” Summer camps.  Mission trips. We could get rarely a peep out of her about her world-expanding experiences, other than a thumbs up as they were special, fantastic events to be savored by her alone.

Then puberty and romance. First dates. Growing six-feet tall. First boyfriend (NOT six-feet tall). Driver’s license.  First fender-bender. Moving states and changing schools. Striving for a 5.0 GPA. Volleyball tournaments. Finding new friends who didn’t speak English. Learning more and better Spanish from them. Falling in love with Latin America. Causing a two-alarm fire truck response to our rental house– never mind, long story.  Solo flights to both coasts for college visit weekends. And now Argentina for five months.

Carly’s dream of going on international exchange emerged and snowballed into reality with her vision of beginning a center for intercultural understanding someday. She applied for the AFS Latin American program and won one of four scholarships, was accepted into the Argentine program, then assigned a host family. (n.b. After one month in Argentina, she switched families.) After NO goodbye fanfare (Text: “Taking off soon. Bye!”), nine hours by plane to Buenos Aires and fourteen cross-country hours by bus later, she was warmly welcomed by her host family. (Text: “I’m with my family in Tucumán, the travel was luxurious and they are amazingly wonderful people. DON’T WORRY ABOUT ANYTHING.”-Carly) (Subtext: “That’s it, mom. See you in July.”)

Launched. We have just launched one quarter of our family. Crazy to realize it’s happened to us. It’s different to write a blog called FamilyLaunch than to do it, right? I shouldn’t be surprised she’s gone, though I’m still dizzy in the head as I pick up the pieces that are still whirling about in the tornado of her departure.  Maybe Hurricane Carly is more apt? Connecting with her year–long crush and falling madly in love in her final 3 weeks here.  Maneuvering to spend every minute together with him.  Breaking curfew.  Getting a speeding ticket.  Arguing with us, “You’re driving me crazy. I can’t wait to leave! I’m 18; I should be able to____.”  (me: “NOT YET!”)  Letting slip a few confessions, “I didn’t actually take my online government class final yet, but I have till June, right?” “Oops, I lost my retainer in Miami.” “Dang, can’t find my glasses; just mail them, ok?” Last minute packing and unpacking when the suitcase weighed 15 pounds over limit. These actions were all out of character for her, so they made our heads spin.

I’m told this is perfectly normal “leaving home” behavior. Some students even pick a fight, so everyone is mad and it makes the student’s breaking away to independence  and the parents’ letting go a little easier. Soooo much easier !?

Then at last, “She’s gone. Whew!”

 Quiet. Breathe. Peace in the house. Inner turmoil.

Reading her tweets (via Google translate) such as: “New  family!” with a happy picture of her bus station welcome and “I miss Chipotle and Ben & Jerry’s more than I miss my family” reassure me in a back-handed way. When it doesn’t feel as if my daughter broke up with me.

Dropping the habit of “checking in/checking up on her” is harder than I thought. Not entirely because I am a control freak, but because it turns out THIS WORLD IS A DANGEROUS PLACE! AND MY CURLY-HAIRED, THREE-YEAR-OLD—um, I mean eighteen-year-old—IS OUT THERE IN IT!

Our first contact via Skype one week after she arrived involved her rapid-fire-talking for 90 minutes (despite a cold and hoarseness), giving us a horrifying description of her birthday night at the disco when one of the 10 girls had a drug slipped into her drink. Since the other girls’ solutions involved propping the girl up on a bucket outside and dumping glasses of water on her, Carly took charge by ushering everyone into a taxi at 5am to take her home. (“But don’t worry, Mom and Dad. Everyone says that NEVER happens. And my dad here is a policeman! I’m safe!”) As my wise sister reassuringly pointed out, Carly handled a surprisingly scary situation with initiative and decisiveness, while commenting casually “I’m never going back there.”

Other quick texts from Carly do this mom’s freakish heart good, “Found a Sunday night church service,”  “Say Hi to the Youth Group.” “Thanks for pics. Kinda miss you.”

Until last weeks’ text, “Food poisoning. Nearly threw up in class on the 2nd day of school.” 😦  We actually traded texts for a few day while she was sick in bed—mostly about immodium— and it was followed up 6 days later,”Things better.” (Subtext:Don’t need you anymore, mom… for now.”)  I am proud of Carly’s brave handling of new challenges.

Meanwhile, I know all the drama of leaving (and then returning for three weeks this summer) will be followed up in rapid succession by a theatrical encore, her August college departure for Davidson College in North Carolina.

Carly’s leaving is not temporary: “I’m going far, far away from you, mama!” She’s on her way to adulthood. While Carly is in Argentina, the clock ticks on. She is truly launched.

I am getting accustomed to being a family of three.  A male, mom-is-outnumbered, family of three. As soon as I turn my focus to my son, in an instant, the next shocking count-down begins, to send him off to high school, “Ten, nine, eight…”

 

 

Beyond Duct Tape and a Good ER

a-duct-tape-wallpaperAs I was duct taping the bumper today, I thought as I often do, “Am I on Candid Camera?” The stuff of my life is often too wacky to seem for real. Or maybe a better thought, “What if my life had a laugh track to remind me to take it all lightly?”

Oh, for that I do have two handy teenagers. No roses, no thanks, no sentimental expressions of love for Mother’s Day this year. “ Mom, I can’t believe you had a baby. Babies are parasites living off your own well-being. That’s just gross,” stated my seventeen-year-old daughter ever-so-sweetly. My snappy reply: “Yes you are a parasite. The cutest parasite I’ve ever loved.” As my friend Lance says, “That’s comedy, folks.”

Doesn’t it feel like we parents are, indeed, being sucked dry by parasites? On better days, we simply feel overwhelmed, as if parenting is beyond our coping ability, beyond our wildest imagination. Or we just feel worn out. Did anybody warn us about: the piercing flash of love you feel for a newborn, then days later the midnight desperation of caring for a colicky infant? How about the uncertainty of dealing with demanding toddlers in public, the stress of managing family sports schedules, or the anxiety over idiotic moves teens make? I wasn’t prepared, that’s for sure. My own mother’s favorite lines fail me now, “You just have to stay one-half step ahead of them.” Or those she used when I was a kid, “Nothing good happens after midnight.” Or “it won’t be equal, but it’ll be fair,” or was it “It won’t be fair, but it will be equal.” (I think she resorted to confusing the four of us as a last ditch effort.)

What do I think I need to cope and to thrive as a parent?

A go-to support team. Good friends or kind people who will pat me on the back, laugh with me, cry together, pray with me, and say “it’ll get easier, “ even if that might only be wishful thinking. Maybe your siblings, small group from church, or the hospital birthing class. People who can help you laugh again.

Time apart. I need my husband to tag team during a crisis, fight, or tantrum, to tap my shoulder and say, “Take a break. I’ve got this.” And if you’re a single parent, I hope you find a friend who will swap a few hours after work or weekend overnights or so you can get a break. We all need a chance to breathe and to renew our souls apart from shrieks of “Mommy. Mommy!” We need to be able to develop our own interests, too, in order to learn or relearn how to be our best selves. It’s amazing the improved perspective we can find after a little sleep or a long run.

Caring, safe adults to love our kids. We need people who will show our kids how to grow into responsible citizens, or at least people with a fun sense of humor—especially when we lose ours with the teen years. They need people who will cheer for them on the sidelines or in the auditorium. People whose faces light up when they see our kids, who greet them by name, who genuinely ask how they are and follow up. Our kids need faith mentors—to know others who also know God. Reggie Joiner calls this “widening the circle” and if I could only own two parenting helps, they’d be Parenting Beyond Your Capacity by Reggie Joiner and Carrie Nieuwhof and Parenting with Love and Logic by Jim Fay and Foster Cline.

Faith and Hope. Ultimately, beyond the daily basics, lessons, and comforts we provide for years, we launch and let go of our kids in faith, with hope and a prayer. God is responsible for how our kids learn and grow–and thankfully God loves them far more than even we can. In Sticky Faith, which I also give my highest recommendation–Kara Powell encourages parents to find God’s hope and redemption even in hard circumstances:

The odds are great that your child will ‘cross the line,’ or for some of our kids, catapult over the line. What do we do then?... Don’t panic. There are very few issues you will face as parents that are irredeemable, even the biggies…. Take the long view. The ultimate hope that is part and parcel of trusting God is the hope we have that in the long run, God’s mercy will win. We many not see it or experience it exactly the way we want to for months, or even years but trusting Christ means we believe that He is at work, bringing healing and redemption to the most hopeless of circumstances.[1]

I also need a bottle of ibuprofen, duct tape, a good ER, and a solid 529 plan, but I’ll leave it for you to fill in the blanks. What do you think you need as a parent?

            [1] Kara Powell and Chap Clark, Sticky Faith (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2011), 45-46.