Sometimes I get tired of being the adult around here.
Of course the Coach is an adult, too, but he's not always here to back me up.
It would be nice, every now and then, if someone would tell ME what to do (so often, I have no idea what is best!), or eat the rest of my dinner (that wouldn't be necessary, but it would still be nice), to go to bed (I'd go!).
The other day, Son (#4) said, "Mom, when I am old enough to have my own house and buy my own groceries, I'm not going to buy any 'off' brands."
I said, "Great. I'm happy for you." (As I watched him gulp down the "off" brand granola bar and reach for more "off" brand pretzels.)
But being an adult is about a lot more than choosing what grocery brand to buy.
It's more about getting up when the alarm goes off, even though you are so tired your eyes won't open all of the way.
It's about planning and preparing for another busy day, only to have your plans fail and your preparations fall apart and then having to do something else altogether.
It's about saying "no" when you really WANT to say, "yes", but you know that the "no" is the best thing for your child.
It's about asking forgiveness and admitting you were wrong and saying you are sorry. A lot.
It's about being the first one to get up to serve. Even if you just sat down.
It's about learning what makes those around you happy. . . and making "happy" happen as often as possible (Chocolate Chip Cookies, anyone?).
It's about getting on that treadmill even though you'd rather sleep, check Facebook, drink another cup of coffee, or snuggle with Little Man on the couch watching "Curious George".
It's about calling repairmen and insurance companies and the bank. . . even though you'd rather NOT.
It's about helping with homework even though you've already helped four other kids.
It's about reading to the littles at bedtime, even though you haven't seen or talked to the Coach all day.
It's about doing without something now, so you can save for something more important later.
It's about being willing to learn something new, even though your brain isn't what it used to be.
I could go on and on. . . but you get the idea. Sometimes being a "grown up" makes me tired.
But then I see my kids. . .
Offering to bring the younger kids home so your mom doesn't have to make ONE MORE TRIP to school that day, even though it means they will criticize your driving and tell mom every thing that they think you did wrong on the way. And building an electric motor for Science Fair - being willing to call Granddad for help when it doesn't work right and your mom doesn't have a clue. That's my boy.
Staying calm, cool, and collected, when you are a Freshman playing Varsity, only one week out from an injury, in a regional playoff game, when the "star" player has fouled out and you are only up by 3. Trying out for a part in the school play that requires singing and memorizing lines and being up in front of ALL OF THOSE PEOPLE, when you are naturally quiet and shy. That's my girl.
Practicing piano on your own and reminding Mom about the piano lesson (that she would probably forget about, otherwise) and staying late to practice because she forgot to come pick you up. And never complaining. And trying out for the same play. . . even though singing it's your biggest strength. That's my boy.
Being a leader in the classroom, taking the initiative to serve others, offer help when needed, being an example of self-government and diligence at school. Overcoming the left arm cast and going out to shoot baskets one-handed every day after school. That's my boy.
Taking responsibility for homework, reading, memorization, spelling words, and getting required signatures on things EVERY NIGHT without being told or reminded. And making your own lunch. And qualifying for the Math Olympics. That's my girl.
Saying, "Mom? What can I do to help?" when you can see that Mom is losing it. Setting the table without being asked. Making the bed every morning, even when the others in your room forget. Getting in front of a cafeteria full of parents while wearing an "itchy" costume, as a First Lady, and remembering every line while appearing calm and not nervous at all. That's my girl.
Being brave about going back to school after 10 days home with mom. Getting ready for school every morning, making your lunch, reading chapter books (even though Mom never remembers to ask you if you've read), being responsible to get notebooks signed every day. That's my girl.
And Little Man? Well. . . he just came in and told me sometimes he doesn't want to get a tissue for his boogers so he just "flicks them". Hmmmm. Apparently, some training is still needed, here, after all.
But all in all? I think I have more "adults" in the house than I realized. At least they are growing into adults. They all have their moments (me, included!), but there's no doubt that character is being developed here at the troops.
Thank you, Jesus, for the blessing of giving us one another to serve, learn from, and grow with!
And now would one of you adults please tell me to get off the computer and do the breakfast dishes?