They're Growing Up

We are fast approaching two birthdays in our home - those of munchkin #2 and 3. Munchkin #3 will be 11 years old in a few weeks. It's hard to believe that small infant I can remember holding is rapidly approaching my own height. A family that we are friendly with has a 14 year old boy. I remember him at 10, and he was roughly the same size as munchkin #3 is now. I recently saw this boy and he now, a mere four years later, tops 6 feet in height. It struck me when I saw him that in three or four years, I too might be looking up to my youngest. How odd that will seem!

The other birthday we are approaching is munchkin #2's. He will be 13, making me the mother of TWO teenagers. One has been quite the handful, so two seems to me like it will be double the trouble. However, these two children couldn't be more different in personality and temperament. Maybe I'll get one easy teenager in munchkin #2? I can dream, anyway.

I wish there was a way to turn back the clock sometimes, although watching all of them grow and prosper is also warming to the heart. Still, I'm a mother. I miss my babies and toddlers, and I'm not sure when they turned into these small adults I see before me. Then again, a friend recently had a baby. My first thoughts were something along the line of, "I wish I had a small baby like that!" Then, memories of diapers, bottles, getting up in the night, and all the rest came flooding back. Maybe teenagers are not so bad after all!

Seriously though, for as much as people joke about having older kids, it can be a fun stage. Work and stress? Sure. But, they are really coming into their own and developing their own ideas and passions. Beyond that, the work side of parenting is less physical now. No hoisting a small child up onto a changing table and wrestling to change that diaper. No running after a two-year-old who managed to get loose in a store. Now, you have to talk with them and find out who they are. Sometimes you need to second guess them and figure out what they are trying to pull off too. I get mad sometimes, but then remember my own teen years where I did the same kinds of things.

Letting go and letting them make their own mistakes is the hardest part of parenting now. You so desperately want to protect them from it all - but, you can't. It's all about them stretching their wings and learning to fly at this stage. They can't learn to fly inside the nest, much to my dismay. I suppose I'll get used to the idea one day!

Indoor Waterfalls and Big Ticket Expenses (Or, Who Needs a Budget Anyway?)

We've had a rough week. The refrigerator died, and then we had a mystery plumbing leak spring up on us. After tearing out walls and ceilings, we finally traced it and shut it down. Now, a mere 24 hours later, it's dripping from the ceiling downstairs once more. I dread trying to figure it all out yet again. I don't think I was cut out to be a plumber, even part-time. Maybe we should just call it an indoor waterfall and be done with it.

The refrigerator is truly dead, especially when the estimate came back to repair it and it was in excess of $700. The unit is only 6 years old, and the repairman calmly told me that they only last 7-10 years nowadays. You know, I'm not all that old, but I still remember the days of 30 year old refrigerators. Why, with all our technological advances, did we go backwards on the design of these appliances? Yes, I know. Planned obsolescence. How can they get your money every few years if the thing continues to work well for 30+ years? It just wasn't something our budget was expecting. But, the new one (total price cheaper than the estimate to fix the old one) arrives in 3 weeks. They can't even deliver them fast anymore. So, 3 weeks without cold food. This ought to be fun!

The car is also on its last legs, so we went car shopping today. It’s amazing the things they have in them nowadays, and even more amazing are the price tags. We moved pretty quickly into the used vehicles after suffering severe sticker shock on the new side.

Munchkin #3 is very excitable and makes the various salesmen hopeful of a sale by repeating over and over, “I LOVE this car!” as he bounces around happily. What they all figure out eventually though, is that he does this for each and every car we look at. It can be a clunker from 1980 with two billion miles on it, no tires, and rust holes the size of Texas and this kid would run up to it and scream, “I LOVE this car!” What he really loves is the process of looking at new cars and the possibility of getting one. Of course, if and when we actually buy one and trade in the old, he’ll cry. Change is not his thing and we’ll endure weeks of “I really miss the old car, can we have it back?” It might seem like he’s never satisfied, but it’s more just that desire to keep everything the same and routine. Routine is king with munchkin #3. I think the built in DVD player in our top choice might help him get over it all quicker though. TV in the car – like they don’t get enough already, right? But, hey, maybe my husband and I can actually have a conversation in the front that isn’t interrupted every 30 seconds. What can I say? I dream big!

Elvis in Rapture, or How to Survive Church Services with Kids

We have raised the kids to be fairly religious throughout their lives. We're blessed with a parish that accepts children in services, even when they get a bit loud or inappropriate. Our priest actively encourages parent's to bring children as well, so we've always felt very comfortable. We have, however, had our share of mishaps in church - some humorous, some mortifying. In retrospect, they are all now humorous, but I do wonder how we got through some of them.

There was the time the youngest munchkin was acting up around the age of 3, so his father took him by the hand and whispered, "I'm taking you to the car!" Three-year-olds have amazingly loud and clear voices in such situations, I've found. To our horror, this small, sweet, angelic child shouted out, "GOOD! It was boring in here anyway!" Certain members of the congregation still snicker when they see this child. He is also the one that found the bingo machine at the tender age of 2. Two-year-olds have an amazing knack for finding out how to remove the lids of things, and then finding the power switch. Stories still float around about the bingo balls that were flying everywhere and the small boy trying to catch them and put them back in, sensing his own impending doom. I won't even go into the potty training years on church grounds. Suffice to say the child was never modest and the priest had never had small children around much. Use your imagination from there.

The older boy had his moments as well. There was the time, when he was all of 4, that he became convinced the priest was actually Jesus. No amount of explaining was going to deter him. Finally, after a long talk, he said, "So Jesus is in the church still, right?" We agreed and told him that Jesus was just invisible. He digested this for two days and we thought we had finally gotten him over this weird obsession. Sunday came. We are experienced parents, we really should have known better. As the service began, the priest led the procession down the center aisle towards the alter. My precious 4-year-old stood up on the pew and screamed out, "See mom? I TOLD you we could see Jesus!" as he pointed to the priest. More snickers from the congregation. We're known in that church.

The kids, when they became of age, all wanted to be alter servers. Munchkin #1 began the trend and she has been doing it for the better part of six years now. Her brother joined her the next year when he became eligible. He's never been as comfortable as she is, but he's found the things he likes to do and does them. He's not the type to branch out to new things, as she is. Different styles for different kids.

Meanwhile, the youngest sat in the pews and anxiously awaited his turn to be up on the alter. By the time he was approaching the right age though, he had already been diagnosed with the Tourette's and his repertoire of tics was quite impressive - and disruptive. We worried. We're parent's; that's our job. I spoke to the priest, who basically didn't even want to hear my concerns. He told me if any child in the entire congregation, regardless of any other issues whatsoever, wanted to be a server, he would be happy to have them. He's a wonderful man and true to his word, he trained the youngest three times longer than anyone else until the munchkin was comfortable, and then he brought him up during a service. He's been serving for two years now and loves it. This is one of the only places he does not fight with his brother and sister - he tells us God is watching, so he must be on his best behavior. I tell God to keep watching!

His tics don't go away on the alter, but most people have learned to ignore them. Sometimes it's more difficult, such as when he's making rather rude sounds during a reading, or shaking his arms when carrying the jug of wine. We still worry - it's still our job. But today, things were going fairly smoothly. I had taken the oldest and the youngest to church by myself as munchkin #2 and hubby were at an all day wrestling tournament.

Munchkin #3 was having few tics here and there, but nothing overly noticeable and nothing too disruptive. Then, they hit. I realized he had been trying to hold them back because when he does, they will explode out of him after a while. This was an explosion. The entire congregation was singing "Gloria," and I began to hear the odd snicker. I know that sound, I have "mother's ears" that focus in on it instantly. Looking up to the back of the alter, I can see my youngest son in the throws of some pretty severe physical tics. Of course, given their nature, I'm probably the only one who realized they were indeed tics. As we sang out "Gloria" there he was, raising his arms up in the air repeatedly, head going back over and over, mouth opening, and body shaking. He looked like either the rapture had taken hold, or he was channeling the spirit of Elvis. Or, some weird combination of the two. I looked over at my daughter, who was actively snickering. I looked at the priest. He had wisely closed his eyes to avoid laughing. Meanwhile, Elvis in rapture continued on. I wanted to crawl under the pew, or laugh hysterically - I wasn't sure which. Instead, I lowered my eyes and sang, willing us all to just get through the song.

We did get through it, and his tics waned as the energy began to get used up in him. I mouthed to not hold them back and he nodded. The rest of the service I could see that he still had tics, but they were more manageable. The service ended and I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding. One more mass under our belts and the spirit of Elvis seemed to be behaving.

After the mass, I had to wait for the kids to take off their robes, etc. People came up to me and told me what lovely children I have. No one mentioned Elvis or rapture, only that it was so nice to see them serving God, and so nice to see the older one helping the younger throughout. This, my friends, is what being a Christian is all about. Overlooking the imperfections we all have and seeing the positive. We are very lucky.