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Showing posts with the label fourteen

She

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She turns fourteen today.


She's done amazing things in the past year ... she has grown in so many ways. 


She grew in her faith, performing with the Outreach Ministry of God, finishing Confirmation class, and affirming her Baptism.


She has performed in a musical at Camp Calumet's Drama Camp and renewed her love for horses at Equestrian Camp, both last Summer.


She has been the source of smiles and cuddles for various babies and toddlers.


She has discovered a love for nail art and make-up; for acting and singing; and has done a wonderful job of balancing priorities in her life. 


She excelled as an actress as Claudia the elephant in Beautiful Things, making memories that will last a lifetime along the way.


She has reached new heights, surpassing her mother's five feet three inches, especially when she wears those boots of hers. 

She has given of her time and talents to many people and places... at church, homeschool co-op, Epoch Arts, and beyond. 


She is becoming such an amazing, extra…

Fourteen: Poem

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Every single soul is a poem.   Michael Franti
They are found in the most unexpected places. People enter my life, sometimes for a moment, sometimes to stay, their poetry in some way leaving an indelible mark. 

Just the other day, as I was sitting in a surgical center waiting room, there were two souls that captured my eye and then my heart. The were a father son duo, waiting for the child's brother to get out of surgery. The tattoo-covered Dad and his rock star son seemed to be ruling the waiting room as I approached. One glance my way, and Dad respectfully requested that his son move the pile of dinosaurs out of my way so I could crutch my way to a seat, and the rock star of a boy did so without hesitation. 

This boy had energy, going form dinosaurs to slushie to Daddy's lap to climbing on the chairs. Dad used few words when giving directions: "Sit, please." "Come here." He used many when his boy was in his lap, "Yes, we'll see brother soon. The doct…

Too Much Like Me

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I love him dearly, this child who is too much like me. 

I love the full-bodied laugh that tumbles form his being, often accompanying a sly look in my direction. We have the same sense of humor, and crack up at things that make others look at us oddly. My heart melts at the sight of his smiles, the kind that light up his eyes and radiate to those around him. 

That he is so much like me pains me intensely at times. He feels too deeply, hurts so easily. The storms sometimes raging behind his eyes tighten my chest with grief. Consumed with helplessness, I long to lift this dark legacy from him.

He has turned fourteen, and later this year I turn forty. Neither seem possible; both feel unexpectedly old. It's nearly too much for me to wrap my brain around. It seems like just yesterday he was four years old, golden curls and impish face lighting up my life, and I, not yet thirty, two of my children just a prayer waiting to be answered. 


He is too much like me, but so incredibly different from…

Fourteen

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Fourteen. He's fourteen.

He is my only child born in the 1900's. That means he must be old!

He is my first ...well, my first living child. 

He taught me volumes about love, about faith, about mothering, and mostly about myself.

But there's no way he can be fourteen, is there?

My wondrous child who started walking on Christmas Day just after turning one was reading books to his baby brother by age two ... and hasn't stopped reading since.

There are things that haven't changed about Alex since he was a toddler. He's always had long hair, surrounded himself with books, and tried to subsist on peanut butter, pasta, and pizza. And dessert. And potato chips. He's always liked been obsessed with computers and video games. And he's always had an awesome sense of humor. 

Alex has gone through a lot of changes this year. His voice has gotten deeper. He's had a major growth spurt. He's (shhhh...don't tell anybody) almost as tall as me!


He's gone through a …