Do you have a hard time accepting things at face value? I do.
Lately, when the family is hanging out in the living room, Reggie has been slipping away to Scott’s and my bedroom. We suddenly realize he’s gone. We get up and look around. We keep finding him lying on our bed (or under) in the dark.
Why does he do that? Do you think he’s sick? Or worse, do you think we hurt his feelings?
You’d be pretty surprised to know much space a problem like my dog’s hurt feelings occupies in my brain. I’m glad you don’t know.
Our family is experiencing something new. College recruitment.
Parents should get manuals for this stuff. Wait. There probably are manuals somewhere. Forget I said that. I don’t want to read a manual.
But, poor Eddie. It’s just like when those dumb suckers let us take him home from the hospital for the first time. We didn’t have one single idea what we were walking into. We had no real experience to make us confident we’d succeed as parents. We looked like adults, but we knew the truth. We were just two kids. Kids can’t raise babies.
Well, maybe kids can raise babies. Eddie is still alive. Yay!
This little baby is now walking around like an almost big man. I think this almost big man is probably assuming his parents are mature and adult enough to help him make his first gigantic life decision.
Sorry, Eddie. We’re STILL just kids.
College sports. There’s a lot going on there. I know very little about this subject.
We received a postcard in the mail last week. The card said that if our child athlete doesn’t have at least 25 colleges/universities pursuing him/her, then we’re not doing an adequate job of promoting him as parents. Which, of course, means we should hire professionals.
Don’t you think that was a stupid advertisement? My sister-in-law is a college coach. She says that outfits like that are trying to play on parents’ egos. Weird. Because, it sounds to me like they just sent me an invitation to chaos. Because we all need more of that, right?
Eddie is talking to a small handful of schools. He’s trying to figure out which wrestling team and college/university to choose. He’s trying to figure out where he belongs next. Even on a small scale, it can feel overwhelming
Scott and Eddie just did Eddie’s first official school visit. I sent Scott and Eddie no less than four texts reminding them to take pictures for me. They said they forgot. I wish they wouldn’t lie. Did I really think they were going to stop and ask the coaches and wrestlers to take selfies with them? A girl can hope.
I had to settle for a pictureless summary of their visit.
Scott and I have not had to make THAT many big, life decisions. When we do, it’s rough. I think there are two separate things making the decision making process especially difficult for us. Scott is EXTREMELY slow to commit to anything;he wants to make the exact right choice. For him, no decision is better than the wrong decision. His perfectionism slows him down.
I have the opposite problem. I almost always really, really, really don’t have an opinion. This isn’t the oh-I-am-saying-I-don’t-have-an-opinion-so-you-are-forced-to-make-the-decision-and-I-can-criticize-you-later type of no opinion. I suffer from REAL opinionless issues. . Everything sounds good to me; I want everyone to make everyone happy. I’m your basic, every day coward.
I’ve been praying a lot about Eddie’s big decision lately. Then, I read this the other morning in the Gospel of James:
But when you pray, you must believe and not doubt at all. Whoever doubts is like a wave in the sea that is driven and blown about by the wind.If you are like that, unable to make up your mind and undecided in all you do, you must not think that you will receive anything from the Lord.
Hmm. Never saw that verse before. Will you check your Bible to make sure that verse is really in there? I think some jackhole might have written that in my Bible to play a joke on me.
Here’s the part where I’m supposed to tie all this up for you. I tell you that this verse reversed my indecisive nature; learn from me. Except, I don’t know. Should I tell the truth? Or, should I lie? I feel like I want to lie, except the truth feels better: That verse didn’t change anything. Yet.
Just give me some time with that verse. Okay? I’ll read it and reread that verse. I need to ask God what He means to say to me with that verse. I might be learning a new way to do things here. Too soon to tell. When things change, you’ll be the first to know.
Here’s something I do know. Yes. We were like little kids raising a baby, but Eddie is still alive, remember. So far, so good. And, I think I actually kind of like how he’s shaping up. I mean, if you had to live with him, you’d see he’s got some rough spots. He’s kind of a hot mess in the pays attention to detail department. But, right in the center of all his crusty old man clothes, long hair, inappropriate jokes, and forgetfulness is a kid who knows himself. It’s remarkable, really. Considering the confused kids who raised him.
Secretly (not anymore) I really love that thing inside Eddie. Knowing his own mind has served him well to this point. No. I’m not ready to turn all my parental duties over to that thing inside him, but I think we can at least trust it to guide us in the right direction with this big life decision Eddie’s making. I think. I don’t know. I’m not sure.