bullies

I actually think about bullies a fair amount.

That seems weird.

But I've had a little experience and have my theories.

Bullies won't bully if there's no sail for their wind.

No one to look scared, act scared or do what they're told.

No one to turn over their lunch money,

or stay away from the bully's locker.

Or - and now I talk about adult bullies -

no one who acquiesces to a bully's expectations, demands,

and emotional blackmail. Have you known someone like that?

I was not a bully but I defended those who got bullied,

like my younger brother. It made my blood boil to see him bullied.

One day I got on the school bus behind a bully-type,

and I saw him smack my brother on the head.

I automatically shoved him as hard as I could, sending him flying

to the back of the bus. (I think the bus driver might have smiled a little.)

The bully never bothered us again.

Sometimes you just have to stand up to a bully

and let him/her know you won't be bullied.

That's my take on bullies.

What's yours?

thanks again

Through Katie's willing spirit and the magic of photoshop, my blog underwent some minor changes this evening. Well, even the minor-est of changes take time with an expert at the wheel. I've wanted to tweak it for some time, but just now got to it.

Hope you like the changes. And THANK YOU, my sweet daughter!

Now, back to your packing. Wow, senior year!

4 moms, 15 years, 15 kids

Nan, Elizabeth, Lori and me. We met for coffee this week. We began praying together for our children (15 in all!) and their schools about 15 years ago. A world-wide prayer movement called Moms in Touch was the brainchild of one mom and its sole purpose is moms praying for their own children, other children, schools and teachers. It's not a coffee klatch. Not a gossip session. Just one hour of prayer a week. And what a powerful, Spirit-led hour it was.

As our children have graduated, married, given us grandchildren, the four of us haven't gathered to pray in awhile. We hadn't even met for coffee in a long time, until this week. We've decided to meet for lunch monthly.

Having prayed together all those years, through victories and heartache over our kids, we feel incredibly close. Nan, Elizabeth, Lori and I love coffee together, but we especially love our fellowship. Thanks, girls!

ten years ago

Ten years ago this week we delivered David, our oldest, to college for his freshman year. And except for a period of about 18 months, we've returned to Taylor University's campus many times over these ten years. David, Dan and Katie spent their college years there.

I think I'll save my sentimental Taylor-ramblings for another post - namely the end of the coming school year, when Katie graduates. (You WILL graduate, Katie?) For now, I think back to that August day in 2001 when I was going to bravely deliver David to college. Oh, I wasn't one of those blubbery moms who sobbed all the way home. This is what we'd prepared for: encouraging our kids to take flight, go away to college, and learn independence. I was not a clingy, hanger-on mom. I had this all under control!

Until it was time to go. The sun had just slipped behind the football field at Taylor, and our family of six stood in the parking lot outside the chapel. David was due at a freshman event, so we really had to leave. And the tears came. Not just mine. Bill's. And all the siblings'. And David's too. It was the most unexpected, extreme display of emotion I'd ever experienced. We all sobbed and hugged, as if our hanging on could delay our separation. 

I was so very proud of David and happy for this time in his life. But I very mother-ly realized that our family would never, ever again be the same. I'd have to stop and count out five plates instead of six for dinner. One less boy eating gobs of food. Less laughter from my very good-natured son. As his world broadened and became more, mine became less.

The change would eventually be good, I just didn't yet know what that good looked like. In the week or two after David left, I felt adrift. With a husband and three kids still at home! I missed him. Horribly, terribly. I have never admitted this to anyone, but I pulled his baby blanket from my bottom drawer and slept with it a few nights. All crazy "me" stuff .... not really "him" stuff!

By week two, as David would call us occasionally (I resisted calling him), my gloom lifted. He loved classes. He was making friends. The dorm brotherhood was awesome. Taylor was the place he was meant to be. And I knew he had begun growing into the young man God desired. And that we desired.

Letting my son go meant I would lose his boyhood, but I would witness his growing manhood. And that was a very good thing indeed.

sisters

Wow, wow, do I love comments! Twelve yesterday! Well. Three were mine, so they don't count. But it's fun to hear from everyone. Thanks!

Drumroll, please: Katie completed her online course! It's done, thank you, Lord. And Katie!

She's having a little visit with two close friends from college. The memories of my own college years flood back as I hear the girls talking and giggling late at night. I love seeing Katie's close, deep friendships with these "sisters" who will likely be friends for life.

There's something sweet and special about young women who are tasting their new independence and learning what God has for them in life as they live in community with each other. The last three years have been amazing for Katie.

Make the most of this time, girls, for soon life will whisk you off to new friends and places. There will never be anything quite like college.

arise!

It's 8 a.m. As I type, I hear a clang-clang-clanging, like church bells on a wedding day. It's coming from Katie's room and I know it's her iPod alarm trying to wake her and drag herself to meet the day.

It could be a rough go. I went to bed at 11:00 and she was quietly working at her desk. This morning I found the remains of popcorn in the kitchen, so I know she was up way, WAY late, racing to the finish line of her summer online course, all due TODAY. The other night, as I stood at her desk, she looked up at me and said, "what are you going to do with me, Mom?" Meaning, at 21, she's beginning to get that being her mother hasn't always been crumpets and tea.

Anyway, sleep and kids. Why do they so confound us? As newborns, they shock our sleep patterns by having none of their own. Up at midnight, three and six to feed. Sleep all morning. And a different pattern the next night.

As toddlers they awake with the birds, demanding Cheerios and juice, and we rejoice the day they give us 15 minutes of extra sleep by reaching the Cheerios on their own.

Once kids start school, they instantly become more lethargic in the morning. Three of my four children were utterly slothful. Uncombed hair, unbrushed teeth, and forgotten lunches all characterized mornings in our house. We once had a houseguest (father of two) who sat at our kitchen table on a school morning in the midst of our tornado. "Is it like this every morning?" he asked.

By high school it gets ugly. Most all teenagers are nocturnal. In their complete stupidity, high school authorities set the start of the school day as early as possible. One son would run to the car, shoes and bagel in hand, because he was so late. Differences in sibling readiness were the worst. For four straight years, a battle would rage every morning between siblings: one punctual, one tardy. (You know who you are!) We even received a letter from the school about one of our kids, threatening involvement of children's services for truancy. (ie, too many tardies.)

June 2008 couldn't come soon enough. No more school mornings!

Proverbs 31:28 says "Her children arise and call her blessed." By the end of the school years, I was just thankful if they arose in the morning!

kids just wanna have fun

I spent yesterday afternoon at the pool with a favorite little guy. It's a lot of fun being with Jack, even though it's my "work." I'm pretty sure the pool is Jack's favorite place to be in summer. His mom has worked hard at helping him become comfortable in the water. He loves to swim!

Well. The pool has a "zero entry" as it's now called. An edge like at the beach. And right near the edge are five fountains of water which shoot straight up. Jack loves to get right up to them and put his foot over one, and the water then shoots OUT, not UP. Not ten feet away is a line of low chairs, along the zero entry. The moms and grandmas love to sit there dipping their feet and watching the little ones. Yesterday Jack did his usual thing, taking perfect, if unintentional, aim at two grandmas sitting in the chairs, all nice and situated with their beach bags and towels.

"Oh, hey!" they squealed, pointing at Jack. "How dare he get us wet!" they seemed to say. I quickly put myself in the line of fire, between Jack and the women.

I wanted to laugh. But also yell, "You are at a POOL and you chose to sit by the FOUNTAINS where little ones play. You might get WET, so if you'd rather stay DRY, find another SEAT!"

Look, I'm all for teaching courtesy and manners to children. But I'm also for giving kids a long rope in having some uninhibited fun, particularly in places that are designed for kids to HAVE fun. So stuffy adults need to take their lovely bags, perfect hair-dos and bad attitudes out of the vicinity of a child's fun.

And I hope, as I age, I am never so stuffy that I forget what childhood is all about.