I’ve been processing life the way photographers process images. Only not as artfully nor as expediently.

So much life these last days and weeks.

There was the weekend marching band competition that I chaperoned in Virginia Beach where I started reading Rumors of Water. Sadly, that was the last time I’ve seen the book and our camera…

The next week I spent half a day in a board meeting with my friends on the Lynchburg Day Aglow team. Then there were doctors’ appointments (three in one day: two different kids’ checkups and one for me), a board meeting in Richmond for the Spence Network, then a same day drive to/from Charlottesville to taxi my oldest between Senior Regional Orchestra auditions and marching band competitions.

The next week there was more painting to do, carpet installed in two rooms and a trip to Laity Lodge in Texas. Home Sunday evening, spent the whole day yesterday moving furniture/belongings so each of the kids can now have their own bedrooms. Then more painting.

Lately it seems there’s always. more. painting.

(By the way, what do you think of this BLUE for a 13 year old boy’s bedroom? yeah. Me neither, but then last night Peter invoked the name of Randy Pausch, who said you should let kids paint their rooms whatever color they want…so, for Randy, and for Morgan…)

Throw in 2 of 8 physical therapy sessions on my ankle and you have an idea of how crazy life can be sometimes and why it’s taking me so long to process it all.

Some people process life through poetry. After hearing Julia Kasdorf read several of her poems this weekend, I was enthralled. During one of the bathroom breaks between sessions, I had a quick conversation with Julia. She was every bit as captivating in a casual conversation as she was in a more formal poetry reading.

I haven’t written any poetry since our wedding invitation and I’m entirely sure that doesn’t count as literary poetry.

Nonetheless, when the muse landed Sunday morning as I stared into the mirror while applying makeup, I quickly grabbed my journal and penned the following:

Morning Inspired by Julia Forgive Me Julia

Untitled (but feel free to submit your suggestions in the comments below)

As long as it’s mine
I don’t much mind
the sweetness of
a poot
as it pffffftttttts

I’d like to claim paint fumes have eaten away at whatever functioning brain cells I had, but the poem was written while I was at still enjoying the fresh air and breathtaking scenery at Laity Lodge.

What about you?
How do you process life? And do you have a suggestion for renaming the above poem?

Creative Commons photo on Flickr by Sychio.  

I spent the better part of an hour listening to a 13 year-old boy rap some song about a boxman. He was supposed to put his breakfast dishes away but the white boy rap was apparently too distracting. I had to call him back into the kitchen. Thankfully the dishes eventually made their way into the dishwasher.

Then he couldn’t find his band t-shirt, the one he needed for marching band tonight.

“Check your laundry basket downstairs,” I suggested.

Down he went and returned empty handed. No luck. He didn’t have any luck finding the shirt in his dresser drawers either, so I checked behind him. Thirteen year-old boys (and siblings for that matter) seldom have “mom luck” at finding things.

Sure enough, there was no band t-shirt in any of the four drawers. I asked him to check his dresser again while I double checked the laundry room. Nothing. Thinking his sister may have accidentally taken the now elusive garment, I texted her in quiet desperation.

Nope. She didn’t have it.

While I was in the laundry room, I sorted the entire hamper of dirty laundry. I simultaneously hoped I would find it and hoped I wouldn’t. I wondered if a stinky, wrinkled t-shirt was better than no t-shirt at all. Again, no luck. Back upstairs I went and finally found the shirt in the bottom dresser drawer tucked away with the swim trunks.

No worries. We had time and I hadn’t even lost my cool. Out the door we went.

Still in the driveway, I ask, “Did you brush your teeth?”

I could tell the answer by the look on his face. Despite the minutes ticking away, I asked him to go back into the house, grab a quick swig of mouthwash and bring his electric toothbrush back with him. He did so without complaining and once again, I remained calm.

He dry brushed his teeth as we drove through our neighborhood and headed towards school.

Thinking a “one thing at a time” approach might be best given this morning’s experience, I waited until he was completely finished before I asked him about the form. Just yesterday he was supposed to give the National Junior Honor Society recommendation form to one of his favorite former teachers now turned librarian.

“I didn’t have time.”

He searched the cavernous main pocket of his backpack. Nothing. Not in the binder. Not in the front pocket.

Suddenly, voila! He found the form somewhere beneath his Spanish binder and a couple of library books, took it out and placed it neatly in his library book. Just in time.

We circled the parking lot and I pulled into the car rider lane.

“Hey Mom,” he said as he reached his hand towards the side of my face.

I thought I had a piece of string or a small crumb on my cheek.

Then, without a hitch, he quickly wrapped his fingers into a ball and pinched my nose.

“Gotchyer nose!” he said with a grin.

I couldn’t help it. I busted out laughing, thankful for one of those mornings.

What about you?
How was your morning? 

Saturdays are also for:

sleeping in late after nearly three weeks of working long and hard.

enjoying leftovers.

Breathing deeply.

I love this photo taken of Peter and the kids last Labor Day weekend. We were at Ocean Isle Beach (NC) just after the hurricane. The surf was so rough that one evening at dusk, Peter lost his swim trunks.

Not that embarrassing, trunks-fell-to-your-knees (or ankles).

Nope. I’m talking, G-O-N-E. Gone with the surf.

I was walking the dog along the beach and heard Peter yelling for me but couldn’t quite figure out why. As I drew closer, I finally figured out he needed me to bring him a towel.

I’m pretty sure laughter helps blended families gel better than most anything.

Believe me! We had our share of laughter and gelling that night and since then, whenever we remember this event.

What about you?
What are the fun stories you remember about your dad?

Distance.

I stare at the word in front of me and think of the distance we’ll travel tomorrow for our Spring Break getaway. The last time we visited Ocean Isle Beach, we followed Hurricane Earl. He left in such a huff that the tide was tumultuous for days.

We lost some pretty significant items to the surf.

Morgan’s watch.

Peter’s sunglasses.

Oh, yeah, and Peter’s swim trunks. Gone! Faster than you could say, “hold your pants!” Swept out to sea, never to return. Good thing it was dusk and we had a Joseph-coat-of-many-colors towel handy.

I think the site of him rising from the water like a phoenix rising from the ashes will be in my memory banks forever. I’m pretty sure none of the kids will ever let him forget the incident.

Sometimes, a little distance and a change of scenery can go a long way towards creating special family moments.

And really? Who couldn’t use the simplicity of vacation right about now?

If you’re a blogger, or if you use Facebook notes, why not consider joining me on the Simplify Journey. Here’s all the information you need.

I’ve been pondering what my takeaways are. Here’s what I’ve come up with so far.

7 Things I Learned When My Son (almost) Moved Away

1. Praising God is the best response in any situation. Especially when I don’t “feel” like it. When I’m able to take my focus off myself and my situation, and instead focus on the nature of God, I make room for His Presence in a powerful way. (Thank you Jon, for affirming this in me.)
2. My community is made up of people near and far. Some I’ve met in person and “done life” with for decades. Others I’ve never met or met only briefly but their influence in my life is significant.
3. When we get it right, people in community pray for one another. I was so encouraged by the number of people who prayed for us, and am equally challenged to pray more earnestly for others.
4. My heart’s desire is for God to bring about His plans and purposes for our children. I want our kids to become the men and women God intends for them to be. And now it’s written plainly, to remind me when I’m feeling short-sighted.
5. The non-custodial parent misses out on a lot. The mere thought of not being present for every blasted cross country meet, or band concert brought me to tears. Maybe God is softening my heart towards my children’s father in this regard. I’m still processing this one a bit…
6. Time passes too quickly. Most parents don’t face children leaving home until after high school. And even though my boy will be with us for the next school year, who’s to say how long that will last. There’s always the possibility that he will one day want to live with his dad.
7. I need to cherish the moments I have. Of course, this could be said of all of us, in all our relationships. The reality, however, hit me this weekend. How do I make the most of the time with my children, when they’re here?

Much to ponder.

And you?
How do you make the most of the time you have with your children? And do you see any other insights I may have missed? How have you been encouraged by community?

I vividly remember sitting face-to-face on the floor with my two year old daughter, trying to explain “together” and “apart” in the best way I knew at the time. I held her feet, tucked neatly inside small navy canvas Keds tennis shoes (the ones with the white leather trim), and put them together. “Together,” I would say. Then I pulled them apart. “Apart.”

“Together…Apart.”

“Together…Apart.”

It was gut wrenching.

Eventually, however, I recognized that I didn’t really have much of a say in the matter. The judge ordered visitation and we worked out a schedule. (When the kids were small, they were with their dad Tu/Thu one week, Tu/wknd the next, etc.) As hard as it was to admit, my children needed to spend time with their dad, and I needed an occasional break. So, I could either be bitter, or make the best use of the time apart. I decided to use that time to take care of me. I often did things that I couldn’t do with two small children in tow.

A Few Ways I Spent My Alone Time

• Went to the grocery story. It’s amazing how much less stressful a solo trip to Kroger can be.
• Gave myself a pedicure. As a single mom, I couldn’t afford the luxury of a salon pedi, so I did it myself.
• Took bubble baths – uninterrupted.
• Carved out special time with girlfriends.
• Dated. For the first year and a half, I didn’t date at all. When I finally began dating, I did so on the nights my kids were with their dad. I didn’t have to worry about introducing them to dating relationships too quickly.

One of the best things I did for myself while the kids were away, was maintained my relationship with God. I often used the time to read my Bible and journal my hopes, fears and prayers.

Fast Forward
Today I’m no longer a single mom. Peter and I have been married for four years and are blending a family with four children. My ex-husband now lives several states away so my two children (now 14 and 12) are with us all the time except for summers and holidays. We have my two step-children (12 and 10) four nights a week. Life is busier than ever!

My kids are in the middle of their six-week (maybe longer) visit with their dad. I miss being with them, particularly because the hectic routine of school and homework isn’t an issue during the lazy days of summer. If they were home, they could be on the swim team, go to youth camp with the kids from church and generally spend time bonding with their friends. And we could enjoy some much-needed family play time.

But “if” is a really big word.

Lately I’ve needed a reminder that I can still choose to make the most of the time we’re apart.

Here’s How I’ve Managed So Far:

• Date nights. Peter and I have enjoyed our alone time together (three nights every week) this summer, perhaps more than any of the years since we’ve been married. Note to self: plan at least one killer date…
• Girl time. I’ve managed a few lunches, coffee breaks and evenings with friends. Heck, I even went on a weekend getaway with several girlfriends. It’s true what “they” say. “No matter how old you are, you always need girlfriends.”
• Bonding with my step-daughter. This has been the best surprise of my summer. Parenting is hard. Step parenting is even harder. Way. Hard. Seeing that beautiful 10 year-old girl in the pool wave to me and smile when I picked her up from swim practice the other day let me know that I’m getting there. Little by little.
• My relationship with God. I continue to journal my hopes, fears and prayers. And I’ve come to realize that journaling is the way I best process the ups and downs of life and faith.
• I’d like to say I’m making progress on my summer reading list, but I still have a few more weeks left for that…

What about you?
How do you make the best use of time apart from your children? What other suggestions or observations do you have for me?

Creative Commons photo Lemons into Lemonade by gretchichi on Flickr.

Their knees knocked.
Their palms were sweaty.
Their mouths were dry.
They wondered if they really had what it took.

Yet they pushed through their fears.

These children, most 10 years old and younger, stood up before an audience of nearly three hundred people and gave speeches detailing why they should be elected for their Student Council Association.

Our two sons were there on stage. Jake was running for Treasurer and Morgan for President.

But here’s the thing. These boys have friends who are equally bright, creative and talented who could serve in any of the offices with great effectiveness. One friend’s father explained that he asked his son why he wasn’t running. His son’s response was, “no way Dad! I’m not getting up there to give a speech in front of all those people.”

He simply couldn’t push past his fear of public speaking to throw his hat into the ring.

I’m willing to bet that every student on that stage yesterday was nervous. At least one of them was WAY out of his comfort zone. I suspect others were as well. And even one more naturally extroverted boy was still pretty apprehensive. Remember what you were like in 5th grade!

So, what are your fears? How are they keeping you from developing your potential? What have you done with opportunities to push the envelope in your business? How can you show courage today, to get you where you want to be in the future?

Creative Commons photo by elvisreverri.

Morgan, my 10-year old son, was the only child at home that night. His sister was at camp and two step-siblings were at their mom’s house across town. Date night sounded like a great idea so off we went to La Caretta, our family favorite.

In less than 48 hours, we would be dropping off Morgan and his sister to spend six weeks in Indiana with their dad. Date night timing couldn’t be better. As we enjoyed each other’s company, these are a few of the lessons I tried to impart to Morgan:

1. Focus on the other person. The best way to get to know others is to focus on them, rather than dominating the conversation.
2. Ask questions. Whether you’re on a date or in a business setting, it’s always a good idea to ask questions that allow people to talk about what’s important to them. I asked Morgan about his day camp experience and about his newest toy fad.
3. Remember names. While we were at the restaurant, I called our servers by name. (Did I mention it’s our family favorite?) We saw some friends and I reminded Morgan of their names. When we stopped by their table on the way out, he could call them by name.
4. Always pay. Call me old fashion, but I still think the man should pay for dates. (It’s nice for a lady to offer to pay and I suppose if she initiates the date, she should offer/be prepared to pay. Maybe I’ll revisit this conversation in August when he returns.)
5. Trust Jesus; He’s the real deal. The mere fact that Morgan would be gone for six weeks reminded me that date night could be a good time to reinforce key values.

After we left the restaurant, we went to Givens Books and I purchased The Dangerous Book for Boys, thanks to a referral from a Twitter conversation. At the last minute Morgan decided he wanted to watch one of his favorite movies from when he was (really) little. Hollywood Video didn’t have it so we went to Blockbuster. Score! (Last minute choices may be the only down side of Netflix.)

Who knew Land Before Time would be the perfect ending to a mother-son date? In her last words, Little Foot’s mother took the time to teach a few important life lessons as well.

Have you been on a Mother-Son or Father-Daughter date? If so, tell me about it! What life lessons did your parents share with you (or do you wish they had shared with you)? What lessons are you intentionally sharing with your children?

We ended the tour outside on the deck, where we talked about ideas. It was dusk and Little Bit had just had her bath. She came outside in her long, white cotton slip/nightgown, complete with a ruffle at the bottom. Her hair was still wet and amazingly, she was quiet (the girl can talk!) as we discussed design ideas.

At one point in the conversation, my 6’5” husband looked down at Little Bit and said tenderly to her, “You want that; don’t you?” I hadn’t realized it at the time, but Little Bit was intently eyeing at least one firefly that was just out of her reach. Peter saw the desire of her heart and without any effort at all, reached up, cupped the firefly in his hands and lovingly gave her the tiny light.

The look on her face was priceless! She was so elated to have the very thing she wanted, and she entertained herself with it for the next while.

The lesson here, though, is not about the joy of receiving unexpected gifts, or being the recipient of someone else’s abilities. Rather, the lesson for me that day was about the love of a father for his child. Specifically, I witnessed firsthand how my husband loves his little girl and when he has the ability to do something nice for her, he does. It’s that simple really. No effort required.

That night, I believe Peter painted me a picture of God like I had never seen before. Peter showed me that God is like a Father, who loves His children, and desires to give good gifts to them. And for God, it’s no big deal to provide such gifts.

I’m thankful that Little Bit and her brother, as well as Sweet Pea and Ninja Boy have a living example of a loving father/stepfather, who is painting a beautiful picture for them of our own Heavenly Father.

One final note, I’m currently reading The Shack and was struck by a thought in the book when Mack, the main character, wrestles with why God is so often referred to as father. He didn’t have the best fatherly example of God. The author says that sense Creation is so broken, the need to point people to a loving Father is all the more important. You’ll have to read the book to get the full picture.

I’m blessed today, and every day, to see a loving Father relate to our four children in a way that paints a beautiful picture of God.

Happy Father’s Day, Shmitty!