13

Dear Spencer,

Yesterday you turned 13 years old.  

THIRTEEN.  

I am now the mother of a teenager. And it doesn't freak me out at all because who you are at 13 is what most people are trying to achieve in adulthood. Ok, it freaks me out a little but I'm doing my best. 

At 13, you love soccer and tennis and music.  You are running for ASB (vice-pres again!) for the next school year.  You are working hard on earning your Eagle Scout.  You are studying daily and put in your time with algebra which is annoying now but will more than pay off when you don't have to take it in high school.  You are figuring out ways to earn money for yourself.  You are the best babysitter around to your siblings and never complain when asked to fill in for me or dad.  You take things seriously, whether it be Senior Patrol Leader or planning an activity.  You are developing a wicked sense of humor that often mirrors me and dad but is also uniquely your own.  You are an accomplished writer who comes up with the most fascinating stories.  You are a few hairs away from being officially taller than your Mama.  You are finally starting to have a real appetite and ask for food all the time.  You are kind and sweet and so easy to love.  You make me proud every second of every day and I will never tire of cheering you on in whatever you do.  

At 13, you are driven and concerned with doing what's right.  You have started to talk of college and missions and it overwhelms me to think of how little time I have left with you.  Five summers separates you from the real world and I would be a fool not to admit that the idea makes my heart hurt.  Five summers of watching you grow and seeing you accomplish your dreams.  Five summers of that smile that comes so easily to your face and lights up our world.  Five summers of dance parties in the kitchen, House Hunters at night, and the race from one sports practice to another.  Five summers to convince you fully that you are capable of changing the world and that you have work to do.  Five summers to love you with all that I have and pray that you'll know that every day of your life.  

Happy Birthday Spence.  You are a dream come true.  

Love,
Mama

It Already Is

via thegoogleyear.blogspot.com

 

 

Last night when I crawled into bed, I laid very still.

Brad could sense it, my unease, hovering just inches below the covers that I had pulled so tightly around me. 

We had a nice day.  He worked and I worked. Lunch together. No homework for Spence (worth celebrating!) and rained out practice for he and Sienna.  A new family over for dinner.

The day should have been ranked as an above-average Monday.  Worth celebrating as a few "that's sure nices" where thrown our way.

But then.  Then the big bad world reared it's ugly head and did it's best to ruin it. 

Something about me:  I have a physical reaction 99% of the time to upsetting news.  My stomach churns, my head pounds and shivers run through me.  So when the news of Boston and Utah found their way to me, my reaction was physical.  I couldn't get warm  and stop myself from shaking.  Tears threatened to fall at any moment.  And the pain in my stomach was sudden and consuming.

My emotional reaction to the bad in the world is also always the same: to run.  Gather up my kids and run awy with them and Brad.  Find a nice little spot for us to call our own and spend our days together where I know they are safe.  The idea feels both logical and illogical and my rational brain knows better, but if my children and the children of the world can't be safe at school or a movie or the sidelines of a marathon, where can they be? 

Brad is used to this reaction in me and did what he always does; held me close, reminded me of all the good in the world and told me it would be ok. 

I won't lie...I had a hard time falling asleep but when I did, I dreamt of the good stuff.  My happy kids and our healthy bodies.  How people keep showing up day after day and doing the right thing.  And when I woke this morning, I decided that this is where evil stops and hope reigns supreme. 

I'm not going to give the bad guys another moment of my time.  I'm not going to run and hide.  I'm not going to drive Spence to the bus stop or stop my kids from going to the park and promote the fear that these types of people are banking on me to promote. 

I'm going to hold my head high and live out loud, just like always.  I'm going to cheer on my kids at soccer games and tennis matches, and yell out as many "good jobs!" to the other kids that I can.  I'm going to know that I can count on my friends to fill in the gaps that I often create and more than anything, I'm going to love on my kids and The Rizz like there's no tomorrow.

Cause maybe there isn't. 

But you won't find me cowering in my shell. You'll see me standing tall, smile on my face, knowing that the good far outweighs the bad and that heros exist everywhere.  You'll see me throwing as much love out into the world as I can and praying that some of it lands on the people who need it most. You'll see me teaching my kids that the only way to change things is to show up and fight for what you believe, to love those you come in contact with and to wear a smile more than anything else. 

We took a blow today, you and I.  We faltered for a moment and lost sight of what's most important. But our strength is returning and we're ready to say that love wins, that good people will change the world and that we're ready for battle.