On Being a Mom. . .

This summer, I've heard many comments regarding how parents can't wait until school starts. Moms are tired of the kids being home. Kids are bored and patience is running thin. I heard these complaints start the day school got out. That very afternoon.


I don't understand that mentality and way of thinking. Bart is my life. I always wanted to be a mom. Sometimes, I feel my heart breaking all over again when I think of how many children I wanted vs. how many I have. Which, in case you were wondering, is 10/12:1. Okay, maybe not 10 or 12. But at least 3. I always wanted a large family. Heavenly Father has other plans for me though. Most days I'm okay with it. Especially when I'm tired. But I know, I mean really know, how blessed I am to have Bart. 


I miss him when he's gone. The hardest day of my motherhood career has got to be the first day he went to Kindergarten. That was a really tough morning. Walking away from the school that held my son hostage for 3 hours? Who did they think I was? Every day, well almost every day, since then I have such a beating of my heart when I realize Bart's just about home. When he comes in, I tend to drop everything and hug his stinky, sweaty, boy dirty-personage and listen to what happened that day. As he's gotten older, the details aren't there but I still do it. He's an amazing kid.

Bart and his Aunt Lynn. Taken just a few weeks ago at Lynn's house.

He's been going to his Aunt and Uncle's house every summer the last few years. He visits with my side of the family and is forging relationships with them on his own. Independent of Nate and me. He goes for a week or two and explores, camps, works, plays, swims, hikes. . . All of these amazing experiences. Without me. And when he comes home, we talk and visit and spend quantity time together. I get my Bart fix. 


He's gone to the ice cream shop alone, Village Pizza in town with a friend (on their bikes even), Cub Scout day camp, overnighters with the Boy Scouts, birthday parties, hikes, day long playing excursions at the homes of various friends. He's stayed home sick from Church alone. He pushes his parents out the door for dates so he can have a few hours of quality Star Wars viewing time surrounded with speakers and sound so loud he can't hear us until we're almost right in front of him. The boy is growing up.


So why is it, this morning, I am feeling so melancholy? I just dropped him off to head out for a week long Scout Camp. Which, just so you know, he packed so thoroughly for he would be good for 3 weeks at least. He's going and exploring the world without me. He's getting his own life. His own friends. His own experiences. 


This brings up another facet of my feelings. Did I prepare him for this? Have I taught him enough? Probably not. We don't camp. As a family, we've been camping twice. But he's gone to Fathers and Sons every year since he was 5. He has gone with his Aunt and Uncle. He's even gone on a few overnighters with the Boy Scouts. One thing I did teach him though is how to listen to your leaders. I think that right there is one of the best things I can do for him. When he doesn't know enough on his own to survive, he needs to listen and follow those who do know. Nate and I both reminded him of that this morning.


He'll be fine. I know this. He received a Father's Blessing this morning. I have faith in Heavenly Father that all will be okay. Bart has great leaders who know what they're doing and are worthy Priesthood holders.


We get to see him Friday night for parents night and I'll be checking up on those leaders of his. You know, making sure he's eating and sleeping. Yeah right, I know there's no sleeping happening this week. 


Saturday afternoon I will be busy. I'm going to be hanging around my house just waiting for that call to go pick up Bart and all his gear. I will be ready to drop everything and hug that stinky, sweaty, boy-dirty personage and listen to his tales of the week. Well, I'll listen after he showers. I'm pretty sure all I'll be able to stomach is a quick hug and then the rest will have to wait until he's cleaned that boy stink off and brushed his teeth. Because, try as I might, he still doesn't brush his teeth unless I remind him. Maybe that will be my excuse for keeping him home from world travels: He can't leave until he remembers to brush his teeth without prompting from me. . .




P.S. To any bears who might be thinking about coming around Pack 1122 this week. . . Don't. You think you have mean and protective Mama's? They ain't nothin' compared to me and what I'll do to you if you endanger my son. Just sayin'.