Hide and Seek

Often I mention my Gooseberry Gals in my posts. They are a very important part of my life and have known me a long, long time.
It's time I introduce you to my favorite Hide and Seek partner. That will be her name, Hide and Seek. HandS. We met at work nearly ten years ago this summer. Approximately ten months later we were working together closely and a friendship began. We have gone from a director/head teacher relationship to directors to peers. Randomly we have not seen eye to eye in a situation, but the majority of the time we are in agreement. We have different styles when it comes to presenting information but they mesh well and we are a perfect match. We play off each other and pick up where the other left off. I have watched her further her education over these ten years. She is a wealth of knowledge. I am impressed by her and honored to know her.

You're probably wondering why I would be gushing over this friendship?
HandS is fifteen years my junior. Our friendship is an odd mix of mother/daughter/foodies/wonder-women fighting for quality care for infants and toddlers of the world/best friends. Our talks are deep and heartfelt. Our giggles don't stop easily once they have begun.
She is married to a great guy and they truly get each other. They had the most adorable little boy this past winter. This last Friday I had the opportunity to have nearly an entire day date with the little guy. He came by work and we got to play. What a great job! We get to play with babies when they stop by! Then he and his mom and I went to the Tigers/Red Sox game. HandS gives me plenty of time to hold, cuddle, giggle, snuggle, and play with her little man. I know she relishes each second she has with him. But she never feels itchy to get him back. Plus. She lets me kiss on that little neck and steal some sugar.

If you asked me ten years would I be at a baseball game with HandS and her little boy talking about our growth as professionals, nursing, teenagers, and homemade baby food.......
I am thankful we both went into our working relationship with an open mind and found a friendship that can last our lifetime.

The dang vending machine and parenting.

Today I came across a blog that overall is too zealous for me. But I did find a post by a guest blogger that hit me to the core. Titled "When Strong Mamas Feel Weak." 

The writer describes going to the vending machine for that much needed Diet Coke (keep in mind I gave up Diet Coke nearly three years ago. I know this desire.). 

She follows the rules. Puts the money in, pushes the button and out comes a Diet Cherry Coke. Oh! The horror! The frustration over something so simple and really not necessary. I know that feeling. I just want the dang Diet Coke! I did what I was supposed to do! Then she quietly relates that the frustration is out of proportion and from another source. It's displaced. A teen. 

Dang teens. (Good thing we don't remember all of our teenage yuck).

You do everything you are supposed to do as a parent and they don't quite follow the path, do they? 

Then she mentions the all too often obvious for women. We relate our children's... issues, tickets, grades, problems, troubles... with our parenting skills. 

Guilty.

Then this gem.

What if I’m supposed to draw a straight line from my child’s wrong choice to my STRENGTH in mothering.

What if God said, “What mama is strong enough, persevering enough, tough enough to bend without breaking under the weight of the choices this child will make?

What mama is willing to be humbled to the point of humiliation yet not blinded to the wisdom found like diamonds in dirty places? 

What mama will not just pray about this child but will truly pray this child all the way through their stuff?

What mama will be courageous enough to let me write her child’s story?”

And then God points.

Just like this woman I did not ask Heavenly Father to point at me. No way, no how. I guess I was chosen. I know several other chosen Mama's.
This I know. I would never trade any of this. This child. The struggles. The tears. The pain. Hugs. Prayers. Fears. Fights. Apologies. Laughter. Pride. Love. Not one bit.
Yet it is exactly what I had to do. Let go of the comparison of my parenting to his choices. They did not reflect on my parenting. I told myself this daily. It is not a reflection of me.

As this young man walked across a stage and received his high school diploma I was filled with love and respect for him. It was a long road. Lots of road blocks and detours. But he made it. He fought to prove some people wrong. I told a friend I was so glad this was over. They reminded me that it was the end of one and a new beginning of another. It is. But an open road and choices are ahead of him.

This young man knows his momma loves him and continues to pray for him.