Growing Pains

 As a mom, there have been these moments throughout my kid's life that were evidence that he was growing up. I am sure there have been hundreds sprinkled in throughout the years, but a few have stuck with me harder than others. As per my usual way, I had to write them down. 

The first one I distinctly remember is when he transitioned from watching Dora and Blues Clues to shows like Sam and Cat and Drake and Josh. It was such a small thing, but I had a hard time with it. I remember watching him catch jokes and laugh at different sarcasm and humor that I didn't realize he would understand. He pumped the brakes on Nick JR and officially switched to Nickelodeon. 

The second one is when he started to feel ashamed about his stuffed animals. From the time he was a toddler, his bed was FULL of stuffed animals. He constantly added to his collection. As he got older, I watched as fewer and fewer animals made it into his bed at night. Eventually, he dwindled it down to three. He was having a friend come stay the night and as I walked in his room, I realized he was hiding his stuffed animals. I took it personally as if the stuffed animals had actual feelings. I guess we had watched Toy Story one too many times. One lone wolf remains today, Barkley, but he stays more on the floor under his bed than he does in plain sight. Occasionally I catch a glimpse of him.

The last one happened just a few short weeks ago. Since the 'Rona hit in early 2020, this kid decided to grow. And when I say grow, I do mean grow. He has officially bypassed me by an inch. We started the year wearing a youth large and hit an adult medium within a few short months. His newly found height was killing my wallet. After a pretty pricy trip to town, I had to do a major closet cleanout. Since he was a baby, I had continued to use the little white plastic hangers for his clothes. Even as a pre-teen, the hangers still worked perfectly. As I began to take everything out that no longer fit and hang his new clothes, it became evident that it was time to retire the little white hangers and replace them with adult-sized hangers. It was such a small thing but as I began removing them, I felt tears slowly fall down my face. It was just one more piece of evidence that time was surely not my friend. 

I could name so many more of these moments. They range from ordering off the regular menu and declining the kid's menu, not having a single toy on his Christmas wish list, the first Christmas knowing Santa wasn't real, asking for a real Bible instead of his children's edition, asking to drive to the end of the road for practice, going to bed and not being asked to tuck him in and may we never forget the day he discovered he had armpit hair.

He will be 14 in three short weeks. As I think about the future in short term, I get a bit overwhelmed. He will be driving next year, beginning his senior year of high school in four years and leaving me shortly after. I know my years with him at home are nearing the home stretch. I also know the next few years will be filled with these small, evident moments that he is maturing and growing into the young man God has made him to be. The one constant thing that never changes is his need and love for his momma. He seems to need me more around homework and dinner time, but nonetheless, he needs me. I hope that follows him throughout the rest of his life. 

I'm curious what your growing pain moments have been. Those little moments that sneak up on you out of nowhere and take your breath away. The ones that make you take a second glance at them and stop and thank God for the blessing it's been to be their mother. What a wild ride it's been this far. I don't know to be excited or terrified of what lies ahead.

 

We Know it's Not Just About Us

Other than the Salty Stacy post, I’ve pretty much been quiet on social media about this weird new season of life we’re all living in. I think I’ve rolled my eyes more in the past few weeks than I have in my entire life. My heart and my head have been on two different sides of an imaginary fence, waging a steady war for my approval. If you know me well, you know my coping mechanism is to put pen to paper. I couldn't rest until these thoughts left my heart and were put somewhere else. 

Disappointment is a tough emotion to battle, especially in a time such as this with so much uncertainty. It’s also difficult when so much that you read insists on making you feel guilty about your disappointment. You see posts that remind you this isn’t all about you, people are dying and that flattening the curve will save lives through social distancing. And here’s the thing, us disappointed people, we get that. We want that. We don't think our disappointments are bigger than the lives of those compromised by this outbreak. Our hearts are breaking for the people around us. However, disappointment still remains.

We’ve had a surprise trip planned for nine long months for Colby and have barely told a soul. We’ve laid in bed at night planning how we would tell him, how we would execute this surprise, how excited we were to take him on an airplane for the first time, seeing his reaction when we told him one of his biggest dreams was coming true and about the sacrifices we had made to make this trip happen. It was going to be our “Disney World” moment, but that’s not where we were going. We aren't those people. The destination is still a surprise for “one day” so he will remain oblivious to it. 

As I had to cancel that (non-refundable might I add) trip today, after holding on to hope for weeks that the world would be back in order, a part of me broke inside. My frustration with this situation had come to a complete head and I just wanted to scream and cry and hate everyone and everything in front of me. All the excitement, hopes, plans and memories we were so looking forward to would have to wait. Disappointment hurts y’all, deep. I felt the roots of bitterness starting to rise up within me. My mind wasn't a happy place, and so I  knew I wasn’t alone. 

I began to think about my sister, like many college students, whose degrees are up in the air. Funerals that have to be held through Facebook live instead of being able to comfort those who are mourning in person. Brides who are having to cancel their wedding because no one is allowed to attend. Young mothers giving birth for the first time and not being able to have their family there with them. Seniors who won't get to experience their prom or graduation. Sons and daughters not being able to visit their elderly or dying parents in the nursing home. Churches struggling to operate. Seeing the effects on the economy, on small businesses, on the elderly, on families due to people being laid off and for the love of God, no freaking toilet paper in sight. My cancelled trip is nothing compared to some of these. 

So what’s the purpose of this blog other than for me to whine about disappointment? To be the voice of so many who are too scared to put it out there. To simply say it’s okay to feel that way and still have compassion for what’s going on in the world around us. To understand that our sacrifices will help save lives, but confess that our hearts are breaking in the process. To find peace in God's promises that He works all things for His good but still grieve what will never happen. You can equally agree with your head and your heart and still be a decent person. There shouldn’t be any guilt in that. 

So have a little compassion for others today that are dealing with deep disappointment, no matter how big or small. We know it isn’t all about us, we’ve been reminded repeatedly, but we are still allowed to grieve memories that will never be. We’re doing our part with social distancing, even if the smile on our face is fake. And that, my friends, is A-Ok!