Conversations With My Hairdryer

You already know that Bubba turned 9 last week. We celebrated with the usual fanfare at school and family gatherings.

My kids' birthday celebrations stress me out. I'm not sure why. But, by the end of The Birthday Week, my neck and shoulders are in knots, I've got an enormous headache, and I'm utterly exhausted. Thank goodness that even though we have 3 kids, we only have 2 birthday weeks. Be encouraged friends, the Scriptures are true, God only gives you what he knows you can bear.

At first, 9 didn't seem much different than 8. He's still that same little man-child. He wants to be oh-so-grown-up, but deep down he still doesn't mind watching those "little kid" shows with his sisters. They are better than the news. He absolutely knows he's ready for the responsibility of a cell phone, but he can't remember to brush his teeth before bed. I still love to smell his hair right after he's taken a shower, but MY GOODNESS! that child has got some man-stink going on in those shoes!

I know we're in the midst of some awkward years that can break a mamma's heart and wear her patience to the very last thread. And I know we've only just begun. Nine is only half-way to 18. And does it really end at 18? Because I'm starting to think that whole "support yourself when you're 18" thing is just a myth.

But 9 has been pretty good the last couple of days. There have been rays of wisdom gained shining through the clouds of will he ever get this?

Earlier this week we started eating dinner together around the dinning room table. We've always done it a little bit here and there. But this week, as part of my year of being intentional, I've committed to it again. No more feed the kids at the bar and let the adults eat when they want in front of the TV.

While we were sitting there waiting and waiting and waiting for what seemed like hours for the girls to finish eating, Bubba had a light bulb moment. He said, "Mom, I know why we quit eating at the table. We got tired of waiting on the girls." Oh, honey, you're so right!

Thursday it was "When I Grow Up" dress up day at The Preschool. Actually, it was 2 weeks ago when we were all at home running fever, but several kids missed it, so we had a make up day this Thursday. As the girls prissed around in their "ballerina teacher" and "cheerleader" costumes, Bubba got a little jealous that he doesn't have such fun when he goes to school. He said, "I wish I was in pre-k again."

I replied, "You would really want to go through kindergarten, first, and second grade again?"

He said, "No, not really. It's more like "you don't know what you've got until it's gone."

Oh.