Thanksgiving

The sun is setting on another Thanksgiving. I'm sitting on a comfy green chair in my in-laws living room, watching light illuminate the Spanish moss in the trees outside. My long-legged ten-year-old is perched on the back of the chair, reading over my shoulder and chattering like a magpie. Her dirty feet are folded together on the arm rest. We can clean her up for the day, but there is always a visible indication that Ava loves making messes. I'm grateful for her companionship. This past year has been difficult, and my youngest child has been keeping me sane. My older children are now twelve and fifteen, and they are every inch moody teenagers. I hear Ava say, "Mooooom, come here" so very many times throughout the day, but I'm holding onto every precious moment that my kid still wants me around. I don't mean to imply that everything is perfect in Ava's world; she screams at Emily more often than not and is always and forever borrowing my phone to play with Snapchat filters. I will also feel much better about life in general when we get a grip on her math facts.

David has struggled enormously with school this year, and I don't know how to fix it. I can't fix it. That's the terrible thing about kids getting older and needing to learn from their own mistakes. I'm not at all sure how this year will shape out. My son was particularly grumpy yesterday because I made him go for a walk with me. The more he grumbled and glared, the more irrational I felt. He was making me pay for forcing his company, and I was prepared to return the miserable favor. Then something cool happened. A very lonely looking kid showed up at the park. David cheerfully waltzed over and asked the kid's name. From that moment, the kid followed David around the park, laughing and smiling. I was impressed that David took the time to initiate conversation with a stranger and make them feel at ease. It forced me to put aside my irritation and look at my son through a different lens. It is also worth noting that his mood drastically improved after stopping for lunch at Dairy Queen.

Emily is navigating the dark waters of middle school. She's excelling academically and seems to have a like-minded group of friends. I always vowed that my kids would never be allowed to disappear into their bedrooms and live on devices, but I very often find Emily stretched out on her bed with iPod and earbuds. Cut off from the real world. I go in and drag her back out to reality, but it's only a matter of time until I find her in the same place again. Rinse and repeat. Devices are now required to live in my bedroom after a certain point each evening. It's not as simple as removing the devices entirely. There are still ways to isolate oneself without the aid of electronics. I generally know that there is a lot going on in Emily's mind, but while she talks freely about everything else in the world, I don't get a lot of glimpses into the things that bother her. 

My grandfather recently told me that kids are like soap. If you hold on too loosely, they will slip out of your grip. If you hold on too tightly, they will pop out of your grip. I'm trying to hold on with the right amount of grip, but only time will tell if I'm getting it right. Or wrong. Maybe I'll just get lucky and somehow come through on the other side.

Work has been challenging. There have been numerous struggles that are not worth elaborating on. I'm signed up to take my fourth CPCU examination in about three weeks, and I'm woefully under prepared. I fully expect to fail this test, and I'm not even sure how soon I will attempt a retest. I need a break. There is rarely a week-day evening or weekend that is not taken up with obligations, and it has made attempts at higher learning more difficult than anticipated. I have always had some kind of solace. When work was crazy, I could escape at home. When home was crazy, I could escape at work. There is no escape now, especially since we are in the middle of remodeling our house. As soon as I finished typing that last sentence, I was reminded of Philippians 4:11 which states, "...I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances." Oh, how I wish that I was better at being content in my present circumstances. I'm not blind to the vast blessings that I have received. I am quite aware that I am rich when others are poor. I'm full when others are hungry. I have good health when others have been plagued by illness. I do not make a habit of feeling sorry for myself, but that does not change that I am hoping for a better state of mind in the year 2020.

So to close out this long holiday ramble, I will simply state that I am grateful for friends and family far and wide.

"Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus." 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18