Letting Go

I had anticipated this day all summer. My first born's first day of Kindergarten was finally here. My emotions were, as most every parent experiences, completely mixed. I was excited for him to spread his wings and jump into this new adventure, yet I was also grieving the thought of allowing my child to be away from me 35 hours a week. (Yes, like a crazy lady I calculated them out.) 8am to 3pm Monday through Friday is a long week for a 5.5 year old. With no 1/2 day option statewide, I felt a little, ok "a lot" shoved into this.

 As hubby and I discussed other options we came to the conclusion that for our family other options weren't really fitting at this time in our lives. We toyed with the iption of homeschooling, or a homeschool-Co Op/private school option. Though when it came down to it, we felt like for this year our best move was to send him to the public school down the street. It will be a good year, he'll make friends from the neighborhood and it will be good for him to learn from and to respect other adults. These are the things we say to reassure ourselves that full day Kindergarten is going to be OK.

Then I worry: will he chose to make wise choices without Mommy guiding him and instructing him? Will he listen to his teacher? Will he chose good friends? Will he get pulled into the silliness that he is so so prone to be attracted to? Will he be labeled as an overactive kid? Oh the things that worry a Momma's somewhat overprotective heart. 

I thought this Kindergarten thing was all about my baby spreading his wings, but after the week I've had I've realized it's also about my heart stretching and growing. It's been about my heart learning to let go just a little. 

He won't ever fly if I don't allow him. He won't attempt if I hold so tightly that I prevent him from the opportunity. He has the training, the skill, and the knowledge  in there somewhere, now he just needs to practice. He can function in this world without me 24/7. Did I just say that?  I guess I did. Perhaps I'm starting to believe deep down somewhere the he will be just fine. Better than fine he will be great. 

I surprised myself on Monday and felt very non-emotional. Daddy and I both walked him to school, hugged him goodbye and waived as he lined up with his class. As I walked away I thought "that wasn't so bad".  Then Tuesday rolled around. There was a great big sign out front of the school "parents please don't come into the courtyard". After just one day I had to drop my baby off outside of the school and hope that he remembered how to get to the gym and find his class. He's only 5. 5 years old and I can't walk him in? I was not prepared to let go of the reigns that much and so quickly.

It was at that moment that it all hit me. Time to let go Momma. I definitely cried the entire 10 minute walk home. Couldn't find the words to answer Chad when he asked how it went. The lump in my throat was tight and tears were flowing. My heart was mended hours later when I saw my super confident smiling boy coming around the corner with the other "walkers" at the end of the day.  "How was your day sweetie?!"  "Oh Mommy, it was great! My teacher has a pet turtle, and my new friend is named Leo, and recess was fun, did you know we can't sit on the red swing but the others are ok, we are allowed 3 bathroom breaks so that's pretty cool..." on and on he went ALL THE WAY HOME!

The hardest part about Kindergarten for this Mommy is trusting another person to care for and mold my child. Who is she? What is she like? What are her true values, beliefs, style of handling discipline?  Should I trust her with my most precious treasure?

This is when I get on my knees and pray. Pray because though I don't know his teacher yet I do know the very one who created my boy. I know his creator and He loves him more than I could ever imagine.  These Prayers are changing my fears into strength. Strength that will be required tomorrow when I have to do it all over again. 

Hope Changes Perspective

As one last summer vacation before my boy started Kindergarten, I had decided to go visit my Mom in California. This is always exciting because we fly standby. The adventure of flying standby with two small children requires patience, creativity, and perhaps a little insanity; because every time I do this I wonder if I am a little crazy for doing so. Hubby had to work, so it was just the boys and I this time.

For our flight home we had to list for the 6am flight, meaning that I had to wake my sleeping angels at 3:30am. Flight loads were full all day so our best chance was to sign up for the first one and wait out the day. There I sat with two boys not knowing if we'd make it home or have to try again tomorrow.

The first flight was oversold. Ok, we'll just wait a couple hours until the next one. Again oversold. Four more hours until our next chance. We pulled out the games, the coloring books, went on endless walks up and down the terminal. As the third flight of the day came and left my heart sank. This meant we only had one more chance before we have to call it a day and come back to try it all again tomorrow. 

Thankfully the boys were being pretty good... Until my 2 year old decided to disappear for 20 seconds. Just long enough to pull the emergency defibrillator box. Sirens blaring, we all felt a bit of panic. Good news is that he'll never do that again. The police officer stood with enough authority to frighten even my 5 year old into a state of good behavior for a little while. 

My next move was to call hubby back home.  He looked up the flight loads (my personal travel agent), and said our final chance didn't look good.  This is when I fell apart. "Hunny can you come rescue me, just fly out here and we'll drive home?" Ok that's not so rational, but I'm getting weary. Our only chance was if 5 passengers didn't show up. The flight was oversold by 2 paying passengers, and then we were numbers 1, 2, and 3 on the standby list. 

One hour until our final flight for the day. I'm running out of coloring pages, books to read, and snacks. I'm growing tired and a little short with the boys as they start walking across the chairs and wrestling on the floor.  My hope is fading and I feel a lump of worry in my throat. I worry about the impending threat of a 2 year old melt down, after all he has been awake since 3:30am, it's now 3 hours past nap time.  Stress rises. 

It's day 1 of trying to get home, but the thought of not making it made it feel like we'd been there a week. 

Hubby and I discussed options.  If only one seat becomes available, do we send our 5 &1/2 year old as an "unaccompanied minor". This would mean I stay in California and allow my baby to fly without me while Daddy anxiously waits at the gate back home to greet him.  If we can't all get out today, this would at least increase our chances of getting home the next day. Two standby seats are more likely to come by than 3.  Deep breath, OK, that's the plan. I can do this, he can do this.... If push comes to shove...I can do this.

Hubby looks up tomorrow's flights, they look just as bad as today's. However, the last flight of the day has 12 open seats.  There is hope!! If need be, I can come back tomorrow morning at 6am to hold my standby position and wait in joyful anticipation. Just knowing I'll make it home renews my strength. My perspective changes.  I don't mind hanging out all day if I know it will be worth it. My struggle today is that I don't know anything for sure. 

I'm weary, the boys are weary. Yet tomorrow, day 2, looks hopeful. If we don't make it out today, we are going to be OK. Though still in the midst of a long 10 hour day at the airport, I breathe a sigh of relief. 


This adventure reminded me how I want to live my life. I want to live each day as if it were a "day 2" kind of day. A day that has it's share of trials and challenges sure, but has hope. Living in a way that has renewed strength because I know that eventually I will make it home. 

There is rest for the weary. There is certainty in the things hoped for. 

Thank you Lord that I get to live this life in faith and hope. "Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we can not see" - Hebrews 11:1 (NIV)

I can run the race of life (or even get through a day at the airport) with confidence because I know that I'll eventually get to go home. This I know because that plane is never full. 

 
By the way... against all odds we did make it out on that last flight of the day :) 

I just wish I would have walked through it with a "day 2 perspective".

A New Season

After some searching I finally found my long lost blog. It's been a year and two months since I last posted.

With big changes for our family just around the corner I had to sit and write, if nothing else, for my own sanity. Writing has always been very therapeutic, so here goes, cuz this girl needs some serious therapy today.

The past year or so has been wonderful. Hubby has had a great job working in the American Airlines training center. He's had short hours, and even better he has been home every night. This was a huge change from the first 6 years of our marriage which consisted of 4 day trips and "good night" messages left on voicemail. Being married to a pilot has it's perks, but it can also be trying at times too. Needless to say we've been so spoiled to have Daddy home this past year, no traveling, no voicemail messages. no "see you in 4 days-goodbye hugs".

This past December we recieved the heartbreaking news that due to American Airlines filing chapter 11 bankrupcy, Hubby would be loosing his wonderful job at the training center. As saddened as we are by this news, we are trying to stay positive and remember how blessed we are that he still has a job. The challenge this time (should we choose to accept it) is that he will now be commuting to Chicago.  This means Daddy will be gone... alot.  Commute out to Chicago, wait to be called for a trip, fly for 4 days (give or take a day), then commute home.  There could be weeks in each month where we only see him for one day. 

Despite my anxiety about this challenge, I do hold tight to the belief that the Lord is in control. As Chad's wise uncle pointed out to us. We have been trained for this, we have been equipped on how to handle it's challenges. The Lord is and will continue to equip even the boys for this new season (2 and 5 years old).  In fact, it was pretty cool, tonight as our little 5 year old was praying at Dinner, he said "Lord please help Daddy's trip to go well, please keep him safe". Though Daddy's trip isn't for another 4 day from now, our little guy is being prepared heart and mind for what's to come.

I find too that when Hubby travels I am given an extra dose of super-Mommy strength. I find that I have more energy to get things done. I manage my time well, and feel a sense of leadership or ownership of the day. I don't know if this is because a) I'm not just sitting on my bum hanging out talking with my man, or if it's because b) God truly does give us what we need, when we need it. I like to believe it's "B".  I too enjoy learning through these times how to follow His plans better. Not mine, but His. Learning to trust when I can't see the whole picture. Learning to feel His peace, when I clearly don't have any on my own. Though the journey seems long the lessons are worth it. I am always reminded that He will never leave me nor forsake me. I am also reminded, that Hubby has a job. It will be an adjustment, but he has a job.

I do trust that when the Lord promises in Jeremiah to "give you a hope and a future", that He means it. I know God has plans. It will be an adventure to watch this picture unfold over the next few months. Even if nobody ever reads this entry, I feel better. I have to admit that 2nd to last paragraph has NOT been one of my reeling thoughts lately. Trust. Follow. Peace. Writing IS therapeutic...and we are going to be just fine these next few months, or however long this season may last.