When I was growing up, Bill Cosby was a comedian. Period.

When I became an adult with children of my own, I learned Cosby also had a doctorate of education degree--and some strong views about parents, children, and teachers.

Sometimes Cosby makes me laugh out loud. Sometimes he makes me stop and think.

During an education conference this past weekend, Cosby said some parents do not do enough to help kids. He also said parents don't involve themselves in their children's education and and don't know what their children are doing. (http://www.usatoday.com/life/people/2006-10-29-cosby-critical)

While Cosby's criticism is directed to African-American families, I think all parents should  listen to what he is saying.

Are we helping our kids--and how do we help them?

Are we involved with our kids' education--or are we content to let the teachers do it?

Do we know what our kids are doing--how many hours they are on MySpace.com or who their friends are or what their dreams?

Parenting takes more time, energy, emotion, and prayer then I ever imagined. Sometimes people like Cosby remind me of that--and sometimes all I have to do is talk with other moms and dads! 

It's still Friday, so I still have a chance to uphold my commitment to making my Friday blog about gratefulness.

I gotta' admit, today went nothing like I planned. Life feels rather haphazard these days. I don't know if it's my fault or just the season of life I'm in.

Even in the midst of interruptions and competing time demands, there is reason to be thankful. It may take me longer to figure out what exactly--but that's all the more reason to be intentional.

So, as today winds down, I am thankful for the monster blizzard that roared through Colorado Springs yesterday. My To Do list was abandoned and I spent the day with my husband and my youngest daughter. We watched the wind blow and the snow pile up higher and higher. We baked fresh bread and made homemade vegetable soup. We read three or four chapters of Farmer Boy (the third book in the Little House series.) We watched a silly Disney movie and laughed at our two dogs--a 90 pound lab and a twelve pound mini-dachsund--romp in the snowdrifts in our backyard.

That was a good day.

And I'm thankful that around here snow doesn't last long. The sun was shining again today, even as snow covered the mountains.

I'm thankful for time with friends--and a little bit of time to myself.

May your days be anchored in gratefulness.

If I had to do it over again, I would never let my kiddos have a pet.

But that isn't the decision I made when my three oldest kiddos were little. Through their growing up years, we owned at least five dogs and four or five cats. Not all at the same time, of course--although I hear some people like having a menagerie running around their house. 

Yes, the dogs and cats were fun to cuddle, especially when they were just a few months old. Then they became responsibilities--animals to be walked and groomed and fed. And guess who did most of that most of the time?

Me.

But that's not the reason I am so dead-set against pets. Most moms know that when their kids say, "We'll take care of the dog," what they really mean is, "We'll take care of the dog for a while." (

The reason I don't want pets anymore is because two days ago Muse, my kitty, died. It was sudden and it was heartbreaking. Actually, Muse was my son's kitty, but when his first job took him to New York, he left Muse with us.

I cried. My husband cried. And all my kiddos cried--from my twenty-three-year-old son, who learned about this during a long distance phone call--right on down to my almost six-year-old daughter.

Ugh.

I still sniffle and tear up when I think about that darned cat. Last night my youngest was saying her bedtime prayers and she prayed about Muse.

"God, I hope Muse is having lots of fun in heaven playing with all the other kitties. And I hope you are taking care of my dead fish too."

Children--got to love them and their innocence.

And pets--well, I guess you've got to love them too.

 

My eighteen-year-old daughter, Amy, just called. After a quick hello, she recounted her day--which had not gone according to her plans.

Amy's in her first semester at the local university. She's learning how to juggle classes and work and friends and church activities. Today she dropped a few balls.

Her the art project that she thought was due in three days? It was due today.

The extra time set aside to study for her history mid-term? Gone, once she realized she hadn't turned in her art project.

And so her day went.

What did I say when she finally stopped bemoaning her day?

Nothing.

This was not the time for a parental "I told you so" lecture. She didn't call me to ask, "So, what lessons do I need to learn from all this, Mom?"

She knows what the lessons are--and she takes total responsibility for whatever grades she gets in her classes.

I'm sorry she messed up on an assignment and didn't study for a midterm. But I am so proud of how she put the responsibility square on her two shoulders. She's growing up--and learning life lessons without me.

And that's how it should be.

Me and Amy before she left for her summer in Guatemala--ten days after she graduated from high school!

At the beginning of 2006, I decided my theme for the year would be gratefulness.

Ten months later, I have a small box full of scraps of paper where I've scribbled what I am thankful for. I confess, I haven't done this every day. Sometimes a week or more went by before I took time to write down what I was grateful for.

That said, I decided that Fridays will be my "Grateful Days" on this blog.

Today I am grateful for:

My daughter's delight in simple things like ice cream cones and knock-knock jokes

Homemade chocolate chip cookies

The comfortableness of old friends and the pleasure of new friends

Warm, sunshiny weather before tomorrow's predicted snow storm

A stay-at-home Friday night where I can relax and do nothing

Old movies like The Cat from Outerspace or The Horse in the Gray Flannel Suit--corny but oh, so harmless!

May your day be anchored in gratefulness.

 

  So my husband wants the air ducts in our house cleaned out. I could really care less, but it's important to him.
This morning the air duct guy--kinda' like the carpet cleaning guy or the bug man--showed up to give an estimate. Which meant he had to go through my house, room by room.
And, of course my house wasn't clean.
I mean, parts of it were clean--but there was an awful lot of stuff laying around--snow boots and books and my ever-present pile of papers and dirty dishes and clean dishes...
That's what my house looks like on a typical day.
So, after the air duct guy takes his tour, he sits down to give me an estimate. I try to make a joke about the messy house and he looks at me and says, "Well, children are the most important thing."

Wow. I could have kissed him for saying that! (But I didn't!)

I know he's right that children are more important than an immaculate house. But I forget. I get frustrated with myself and with my family because my house looks lived in. It will never grace the cover of Better Homes and Gardens.

The books scattered in the family room? Waiting to be read to my kindergartner.
The snow boots? Leftovers from an early morning romp in the season's first real snowfall.
The piles of papers? Well, it's just a fact of life in my house that there will be papers--pages torn from coloring books or my grocery shopping list or a letter from a friend.

For today I'm going to look past the mess and remember: CHILDREN ARE THE MOST IMPORTANT THING.

The weekend is coming to a close and I'm focusing on the week ahead.

I've already started my To Do list--and I already know I won't get it all done.

Such is the life of a mom.

Commiting yourself to mothering--whether you're a stay-at-home mom or a work-outside-the-home mom (or some combination thereof)--means you no longer are in control of your time and your schedule. The needs of children often take precedence over your own needs.

To be honest, I struggle with having to put others before myself. I guess it's my selfishness that makes me want to tell my family to take a number and get in line while I do some things that I want to do.  I wish I could just smile and not be bothered when what I want or need to do gets shoved to dead last on the list.

I've got three "mostly grown" children and one kindergartner, so I've struggled with this tension for years now. Some days I don't wrestle with it as much. Other days I just want to throw a good hissy fit and get my way. Not pretty.

Motherhood--constantly balancing me, myself, and I against the needs of my family.

I don't think that will change anytime soon.

 

I was never in a rush for my children to grow up.

But, they did it anyway.

I find myself with an almost empty nest. My 23 year old son now lives and works in New York. My 20 year old daughter moved into her first apartment a few weeks ago--and is loving it--as she should. And my 18 year old daughter is technically still living at home, but college classes and work and friends keep her busy most days. I know she still lives here because her laundry is in the dryer and her car is occasionally in the driveway.

But, while I am seeing my three oldest grow up and move away, I have an almost 6 year old at home. A completely empty nest is a far-off reality. I know that she will grow up fast too. (I'm still not sure how it happened so quickly with my first three.)

Life for me is an odd, out-of-step pace. A mom of three young adults who need me less and less. A mom of a kindergartner who wants me ALL the time! And I'm still trying to--what? accept, balance, get the hang of--my life nowadays. My life is a study in contrasts, in opposites. Letting go of my first three children and then looking down and seeing a young child hanging on my leg.