These Training Wheels

"I want to take these training wheels off forever!" proclaims my 4-year old, my baby.

It was just the sweetest, cutest thing ever said that day, after Gise had become a full-fledged member of the 2-wheel riding universe.

Achieving this status is one of the big milestones in the preschool years, along with learning how to pump on a swing, tie your shoes, and wipe your own booty. As a parent, I revel in any achievement accomplished by my child, especially one that can make the bike rides go a bit more speedy. The child too is often so proud he'll have to call all the grandmas and grandpas, have to ride from morning up to sundown, and proclaim he'll take those training wheels off forever (or at least until he graduates to an adult tricycle).

Yet, as Gise stated his declaration, and after the cuteness of it settled in, I realized I was hesitant in him taking those training wheels off. He'll have so many more opportunities in his life to do so, and I'm scared, nervous for him. What about when he has to take off the training wheels when he gets cut from the team? What about when he has to take off the training wheels and deal with a broken heart from his first love? What about when he has to take off the training wheels and head to college? What about when he has graduates from that college and faces the world of the employed/unemployed?

I know he will face all of these milestones at some point in his life, but I just want to hold him back from it all for awhile. My baby.

I also know that taking those training wheels off leads to some fabulous adventures. These moments are what help us grow, grow into who we become. I pray that I do have children who take the training wheels off and embrace the experiences with such clarity and confidence. I pray they will learn from these moments, knowing it will make them a better human being, shaping them into the person God has planned from the beginning for them to become.

Go ahead, Gise, take those training wheels off forever. If you fall, get back up and keep going. If you hurt, surround yourself with those who will you encourage you and make you feel better. Wear the right equipment to keep yourself from harm. Ride alongside others who share your same goals, but always pushing each other to be better. When you have no one to ride with, riding by yourself is good for you too.

Overall, I am so excited for you, Gise. The smile seen on your face, especially as you can now ride like The Brothers, is priceless. I am so proud you have reached this moment in your life. I will be there for each one of them, Lord willing. Mostly, I want you to be proud of you, not needing to do it for others, but for yourself.

Ride, my child, ride.

Enjoy it.

It's So Quiet, I Can Hear My Head Not Pounding

Shhh...

Do you hear that?  Me neither.

Except for the tapping at the keyboard and the quiet noises an unemployed husband makes reading his newspaper at the kitchen table, it is quiet; it is still; it is calm.

I have endured the summer.  I have made it.  Made it through countless arguments over who hit who and who said what.  Made it through the guilt of allowing them countless hours of watching "iCarly" and "Phineas & Ferb" and recordings of "Wipeout".  Made it through an enumerable amount of inquisitions on why this one or that one could sleep over or not.  Made it through the summer having the aforementioned husband home and kids not truly understanding why he can't play 24-7 since he is not working.

Now, as I sit in the peace, I can say it was worth it.  Today is the first day of school.  This is the day my youngest has started going all day, mind you it is only 2 days a week, but we have to start somewhere.

I walked in the door after dropping the younglings off and asked the husband, "Now what do I do?"  He said I should lay on the couch and read a book.  "Are you being sarcastic?" I questioned, seeing as that is all I did during my summer of endurance.  Yet, when others who have asked me what I am going to do now with my free time, I have responded with exactly the words my husband said to me this morning.  At least for the first month or so.  A good friend told me yesterday in response to my couch laziness, "You deserve it.  We have worked hard for our kids.  You can do whatever you want."

It is now time to relish in the peace and quiet, but I first have to figure out how to get that noisy, talk-to-himself, sing-to-himself, fart-and-burp-and-laugh-at himself, quirky husband of mine out of my space to do so.