My kids don’t want me to write/blog about them anymore. They’re older and ‘enphoned’, as it were. If I were to talk about them, they think I’d embarrass them by talking about their crushes, their Youth Conference dance moves, their drivers ed adventures, their A.C.T. Scores.
I would absolutely talk about that stuff, it’s true, but if I were to talk about my kids (which I’m 100% not), I would really want to write about why I’m STILL sniping about cleaning your room, why drivers insurance rates in our house are SO D@#$ high, and why there are so many strange body odors here now.
But one thing that both of us groups can agree on is that teenagers are awesome. (No, really!) I have a young adult, three teens and a pre-teen, and it’s really the best. No one lays on the floor of Costco and screams for gummy bears. No one cuts their sibling’s bangs while the other sleeps. No one throws spaghetti on the floor to feed an ant.
We sit at the kitchen table and talk and debate and tease and laugh. Every once in awhile someone even washes a dish unannounced.
The 11 year old has been on a cookie making spree, baking them literally every day and delivering plates of them around the neighborhood to random people. Aside from the multitudinous disaster that my kitchen is daily, it’s a joy. He came home from a widow’s down the street a few days ago and said he had gone in and visited with her for 30 minutes.
Bestill my heart.
So, while he may need a daily reminder about the virtues of deodorant, he made cookies for an elderly woman and visited her. That’s about a wash in ‘skills taught’, yes? This sweet troublemaker has made dozens of plates of cookies this summer. “I know the Spirit is awesome”, he says. (Don’t tell him I’m talking about him). He just makes me cry. Cry and feel really happy that he’s figuring out how to recognize how the Spirit works. I’ll never get old of that.