A Little Boy and A Night I Will Remember

When I was about 19 years old, I was living at home during the summer and working for my parents in their Subway stores.  I would work the day shift and then sometimes also the dinner rush that went until dark.  Being the manager, I also stayed if someone didn't show up for their shift.   Since the stores were in Denver and my house was a 45 minute drive to Evergreen, often I would stay in town and meet up with friends, or go to Randi and Kevin’s apartment and play with Brandon and Hannah before heading home.

On one night, after I finished my shift, I drove down the street to the 7-eleven--I can't remember why, probably to buy Razzels.   I parked my car—I believe it was my black convertible Fiat Spider-- one stall away from a couple of guys about my same age, or possibly a little older.  The guys were a little intimidating and were drinking.  However, I had grown up in Denver and the surrounding area and I knew if I minded my own business and didn't dawdle, I was mostly safe in public, even after dark. 

These two guys appeared to be just hanging around in the parking lot.  I went to get out of my car when one of the guys put his head inside his car window, a hatchback of some kind, and yelled at someone in the back.  When he withdrew his head from the window, I saw a little boy in the back of the car.  I couldn’t see him clearly because of the shadows and reflections of the parking lot lights but I would guess he was 7-9 years old.  I assumed it was a little brother of one of the guys and proceeded to get out of my car.  As I stepped out, the little boy said something and the guy bends his head back through the window into the car and yells again at the little boy.  I mean YELLS at full volume. 

From The Mouth of A Seven Year Old

I watch as Gavin slides his body down the hill from the school above to where I am parked below.  It is a warm 64 degree winter day, so my windows are rolled down.  About half way down the hill, rocks begin to slide and I hear him yelling "CRAP, CRAP, CRAP!" drawing the attention of the kids waiting for rides above and the parents waiting below near me.

As he rights himself and heads to the open van door, I say "Gavin, crap is not really a nice word.  We probably shouldn't yell it."

"Yeah, " comments in his friend " 'Damn it' is also a swear word that we are not supposed to say."

"That's right" I say, turning to stifle a chuckle.

"What did you say?" Gavin asks his friend curiously.

Before I can intervene, the friend answers.

"I said you shouldn't say 'Damn it' cause it is a bad word." Then he adds "But my mom says it sometimes."

Mantra "Be The Girlfriend"

I decided this year to make a different kind of New Years resolution. Rather than weight loss, exercise, or focusing on a religious aspect of my life as I usually do, I determined to be a girlfriend--to my husband.

It has become a running joke between he and I, but it is a serious goal of mine.  I have seen over the past 20+ years how my attitude as a happy, easy going, fun-loving, accepting girl has morphed into.... well, mom and wife. (And sometimes not such a nice one of either.)

Not that being a mom is a bad thing.  I really LOVE being a mom.  (Someone has got to be mom because there are 4 kids here!)  There is also something really wonderful about being a wife to a man who you can trust, rely on and love.  However, sometimes I wonder with my roll as mom, household manager, event coordinator, counselor, personal assistant, friend, sister, aunt and wife, where did the easy going 20 year old girl go?  You know, the one that adored her guy, listened to him intently, waited by the phone for his call, planned around seeing him, made him cheesecake, and thought of things he would like and did them for him.  The girl that Shawn pursued because, well, I was fantastic.  (Hey, it's my blog!)

Let's face it.  Instead of the adoring girlfriend, I have been the person in Shawn's life pointing out the problems, talking about solving kid issues and scheduling our lives.  While there is definitely a need for my mom/wife persona,  I don't want it to be the only persona that shows up each day. 

While I think every relationship grows and morphs into something that should be comfortable-- especially after 20 years--I also believe that sometimes our relationships unknowingly drift.  We slowly move away

Mantra: She's a Senior

Jocelyn and I remember her senior year in high school.  It was the year I tried to dispense all the valuable tidbits of knowledge I felt she needed to have before she left home.  It also was the year she started establishing her independence, almost went to another university (gasp) and challenged me on almost every family rule.  It created an environment that made it so when August rolled around, we were both ready for her to have the "opportunity" to get out on her own. (Although it was still really hard to leave BYU campus without her!)

I imagine this is part of the great plan of parenting.  Kids and parents butt heads for a year so that when it is time to leave home, the moms can bear to let them, and the kids are willing to brave it.

With Rissa I hope I am skipping a portion of my mistake with Jocelyn by trying to remember that she has been living with me for 18 years, and pretty much knows how I feel, act and believe.  She has done her own laundry, baked professionally, managed her own money and been the person in charge of numerous events.  As much as she can be, I believe she is prepared to go out on her own.