Last week, I spent a week getting to know my nieces. One is 6, the other is two weeks old. The thing that shocked me was the pang I felt in caring for them. I helped my six-year-old niece with taking showers. I sat with her as she ate her meals. I played in the sprinkler with her and also played with her in the park. We made a craft box together. With my baby niece, I held her, kissed her, and even fed her from a bottle (she is breast fed so that was a little unusual). I observed, observed, observed. And reminisced.
I'm overwhelmed right now as I write this.
My babies aren't quite grown. But it's been a long time since I did anything like this with either of them. And you miss it. You don't think you will because for crying out loud, it's hard work. But the sweetness of their desire for you to pay attention is not quite as pronounced when they get older.
I don't have to tie shoelaces anymore. Or buckle seatbelts. Or make sure they've wiped properly (sorry). I don't have to comfort them in the middle of the night when there's a bad dream. Or be their girl scout troop leader. Or go to New Orleans on a field trip. I don't argue with them about their Limited Too purchases anymore. I don't force feed them with vegetables, or withhold dessert. I don't have daily devotions with them, or coach them in catechism memorization. I don't have to wake them up in the morning, or lock them in their room at night (a story for another day). No more spankings, or teaching them about how to put things away.
Instead, we talk. We laugh. We watch TV or movies. We discuss God's sovereignty. We discuss relationships. I'm teaching one to learn how to drive. The other is learning about how many boxes of checks to take to her summer job. I still discipline, at least the youngest one. I still nag. I still worry. still pray. Maybe I pray even more now. My friend Bonnie sent me this blogpost last summer, which I found very comforting.
A lot of times, I'm glad that I don't have to worry about the day to day caregiving anymore. However, sometimes this stuff really hits me.
Sunday, July 15, 2012
Sunday, July 1, 2012
A weekend in Fort Walton
Last weekend, K and I went to visit M in Fort Walton. She's there for the summer, working with Summer Beach Project, a Christian organization that takes college students and prepares them to evangelize, disciple, and fellowship with others while working at a place to earn their keep. I have to admit when I heard about it I was pretty excited. First, it would get M out of town. Going to college in the same town she grew up in was not exactly what M wanted, but I was happy about. Still, I understood the need to get away from home because I'd done the same thing. I needed the space to spread my wings, if you want to get really cliched about it. Next, some of the people that have been to Summer Beach Project in the past were people that I respect and love. I was really hoping she would meet other believers that would encourage her and she could learn from. Finally, she'd get to work at a fast food restaurant...at least that's what I hoped, anyway, not because I'm a cruel and unfeeling parent, but because it's real life. It's a way of learning service, hard work, and dealing with people who aren't very nice.
Well, it's turned out kind of like I'd prayed about. She's working at Whataburger. Her bosses are nice but firm. She has three cute Christian roommates. She is on her own, figuring out how to visit doctors, do her own laundry, and live her own life. She has four, yeah, count em, four nights of meetings with people in the group doing a variety of bible studies, praying, and/or fellowshipping. She is really, really independent. Wait. Is this what I really wanted?
K and I drove down on Friday and returned on Sunday. In between...we reunited with our beloved M. We got to see her working at Whataburger, and I snapped pictures and video like she was a celebrity. She is a good, hard worker there and two of her bosses told me so. One of them said he was hoping she would work for years, but she doesn't seem that interested in a long-term commitment. LOL. She worked in the morning, and then in the afternoon, we walked out of her little apartment and then we were right on the beach. K is like a fish so she headed out into the red-flag waves. M sat with me and we talked about her work, her friends, and what she's learned. Their dad showed up, too, which you'd think might be awkward but it wasn't. He sat with M for a while, swam a bit with K, and then walked with them to a pier. He really cares about what they think. K said it was really good for him to just spend time with the two of them; she said he sometimes "gets tired," or worn down, from the little ones he also has.
We then went back to the hotel to get ready for the evening. I decided to leave to let the ex get ready, and K and I went to the pool. We were then accosted by a housekeeper, and she accused us of being too young to go to the pool by ourselves, but I looked her in the eye and said, "I'm over 18." Talk about aggressive, right? While getting ready, we all shared memories of being at the beach together and even before then, which again, wasn't awkward. Really, at this point, I was realizing the beauty of grace and forgiveness. We left, headed towards the evening program from SBP, but got misdirected twice. We gave up and went to eat. Their dad left after that.
The next day, we went to church with M, had lunch with her and her bestie down there, and left. What a neat feeling to go to church and realizing she was being ministered to by another congregation. It made me appreciate what our job should be at my own church. How sweet it is to be a part of the growth of young, impressionable, adults. It was a great, wonderful, weekend.
Well, it's turned out kind of like I'd prayed about. She's working at Whataburger. Her bosses are nice but firm. She has three cute Christian roommates. She is on her own, figuring out how to visit doctors, do her own laundry, and live her own life. She has four, yeah, count em, four nights of meetings with people in the group doing a variety of bible studies, praying, and/or fellowshipping. She is really, really independent. Wait. Is this what I really wanted?
K and I drove down on Friday and returned on Sunday. In between...we reunited with our beloved M. We got to see her working at Whataburger, and I snapped pictures and video like she was a celebrity. She is a good, hard worker there and two of her bosses told me so. One of them said he was hoping she would work for years, but she doesn't seem that interested in a long-term commitment. LOL. She worked in the morning, and then in the afternoon, we walked out of her little apartment and then we were right on the beach. K is like a fish so she headed out into the red-flag waves. M sat with me and we talked about her work, her friends, and what she's learned. Their dad showed up, too, which you'd think might be awkward but it wasn't. He sat with M for a while, swam a bit with K, and then walked with them to a pier. He really cares about what they think. K said it was really good for him to just spend time with the two of them; she said he sometimes "gets tired," or worn down, from the little ones he also has.
We then went back to the hotel to get ready for the evening. I decided to leave to let the ex get ready, and K and I went to the pool. We were then accosted by a housekeeper, and she accused us of being too young to go to the pool by ourselves, but I looked her in the eye and said, "I'm over 18." Talk about aggressive, right? While getting ready, we all shared memories of being at the beach together and even before then, which again, wasn't awkward. Really, at this point, I was realizing the beauty of grace and forgiveness. We left, headed towards the evening program from SBP, but got misdirected twice. We gave up and went to eat. Their dad left after that.
The next day, we went to church with M, had lunch with her and her bestie down there, and left. What a neat feeling to go to church and realizing she was being ministered to by another congregation. It made me appreciate what our job should be at my own church. How sweet it is to be a part of the growth of young, impressionable, adults. It was a great, wonderful, weekend.
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