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FB Memories

My dad was battling brain cancer. We had 2 pre-teen middle schoolers. Job changes were around the corner for both of us. Volunteering at school, sitting on boards, leading a team at church; to list a few. We were on the move. We moved so fast that it’s hard to recall all of it.

These 6 years have changed us so much.  I always say I’d love to go back in time, but the truth is that I’d only want to be there for a day or 2. A day here and there of my choosing. Cherry picking only the fun, special moments to revisit.

On Saturday, we move baby #1 into a dorm room in a town that isn’t this one, in a home that isn’t ours, around people we don’t know. Our family will change in so many ways. She is happy. I’m a little less happy than she.  We’ve done our jobs and churned out a smart, independent girl. That deserves celebration not moping. My goal, and I’ll need y’all to hold me accountable, is to feel all the feels. To take our time, notice it all, embrace the change and be excited of what is to come.

Baby #2 has never had time with just us. We are about to get to know him on a new level while he’s still under the same roof as us.

We’ll finally have more time together as a couple.  We’ll get to go on trips while only coordinating with 1 kid’s schedule instead of 2.

Parent’s weekend, rushing for sororities, football games, all the fun stuff is around the corner.

The right now is a great place to be.

Right now is exciting.

This FB memory of my husband and I may show a few pounds gained and a couple more lines on our faces in the time that has passed, but I wouldn’t go back. The now is too good. And in 6 years if the government hasn’t shut down FB and the memory reminders are still a thing, I want to see pics of this week of our family transition and remember it in grand detail and with fondness. I want to look at it and think “that was a great time in life, but I wouldn’t want to go back because now is too good.”

Absorbing it all. Noting the good.  Talking myself out grieving the past.  Pressing on.

Hero Stand-In Mom

My husband and I walked into a restaurant on Saturday evening. We were taken to a table where a waitress quickly appeared asking for our drink order. Our 16-year-old son’s band was the entertainment for the evening. The band was already on stage tuning up and preparing to perform when we walked in. They had been there for quite some time getting the stage set up. A waitress, different from the one who took our order, buzzed by our table holding a tray of food over her head. “He looks like he belongs to you,” she said, pointing to him on the stage. “Yep, he’s ours,” I responded. She delivered the food then came back to us saying, “Well I’ve made sure he had something to eat before they have to start playing. He has a glass of water up there too.” “Thank you so much” my husband replied. “I told him that I’m his momma until his got here,” she said as she, again, quickly walked off to look after her tables of customers.

Loving my kid is loving me. It feels exactly the same. Loving my kid makes the world feel a little less harsh for him. Loving my kid makes the world feel a little less alone for me. Being a parent is tough, knowing someone out there is looking out for him feels nice.

It takes paying attention though. It takes practice mixed in with the God-given compassion that most women have built in them, to see a need. I have 2 children that are high school students. They attend a large high school full of kids from all walks of life. Some of the kids drive fancy cars. Some of the kids are homeless. Some of the kids are suicidal. Some of the kids are brilliant. Some are addicts. Some have loving homes. Many do not. It’s unlikely to know the difference with just a glance. They are all navigating new waters. It’s exciting and scary for them. They need us. They need as many of us as they can get to invest in their well-being. I’ll look out for you, you look out for me, we’ll look out for each other’s kids.

Would my son have survived the evening had she not stepped up? Yes, but she couldn’t know for sure just by looking at him and I’d like to think it didn’t matter to her anyway. I’m thankful she offered it. Did my son order a 2nd meal once we got there then ate again at Denny’s afterwards because he is a bottomless pit? Yes, but for all she knew, he was there alone and needed some care. Even in the small town that I live, there are enough kids to go around. We should all be looking for them. We should be looking for kids that we can be a momma to until their momma shows up.  Looking for a way to help make life more bearable. Each other, it’s all we got in this life.

I wish I had gotten her name. I hope she stumbles upon this and reads it. Busy waitress lady, you are my hero.