Oh, brother.

Matthew and Cole have had an interesting relationship.  Historically, I've always felt like Matthew was annoying to Cole. I feel like they fought a lot.  I have often said to Cole, "You are eight years older than him," or "He's four. You're twelve," or whatever the age they were when they were fighting.  But suddenly, it's not like that.

Cole has started talking about his future.  His current plans include leaving us after high school.  Like, really leaving.  And we'll encourage him to chase his dreams, and be all that he can be (ahem. subtle hint.).  Whatever he decides.  But then, tonight, I had this realization:  His leaving is going to crush Matthew.  It is going to be very, very hard for him.

They have become such good friends.  If you walk into my house at any given time, you might see Cole doing arm curls with Matthew in his arms (he calls it his Home Gym).  You will see them wrestling (and the baby freaking out because she hates rough play).  You will see them on the trampoline.  And however you find them, you will find Matthew in fits of hysterics.  He's a stoic kid, primarily.  But he thinks his big brother is HILARIOUS.

I was thinking of it through Matthew's eyes.  You're eight years old.  Your big brother is 16, has muscles, sometimes has girls over, and he burps super loud.  He comes up with ridiculous nicknames for you, and regularly calls you "sweetheart," and refers to you and your little brother as "ladies."  "Good night, ladies," he'll say to them, "Sleep well!"  You just might have a love affair with your ever-teasing big brother.  

I guess this realization, while difficult, might be preparing me too.  I know how fast the next two years will go.  I know the changes we'll go through during them.  I know that we have to start preparing for the bird to leave the nest.  Change is inevitable.  It's exciting.  It's hard.  Pulling deep into this mother's heart to remember that they'll be brothers first, and brothers forever.

16

I've been telling Cole that I'm going to send a singing telegram to school for his 16th birthday.  And if they won't let me do that, I'll just make an announcement over the intercom:  "Happy Birthday Cole!  We love you SO MUCH and are so proud of the young man you are becoming!".  He told me that if I did that, he'd run away.  Or kill me.  But today, when I asked him if he enjoyed the telegram (that I didn't send) he told me that he was nervous all day, and he said he actually wouldn't have been that mad.  He wouldn't be that mad!  So, next year, he's getting a very special singing visitor at school.  With no warning.  Because that is what I took from the conversation.

It'd be pretty hard for me to describe how amazing my kid is and how much I love him.  I've known Cole for eleven years now.  I doubt he remembers a time when I wasn't part of his life, and if he does, he probably hates that part.  Okay, that was a pretty risky assumption, and probably isn't true, but you know what I'm saying.  When I met him, and he was five, I couldn't imagine this part of life.  I didn't know what kind of relationship we'd have.  I couldn't have imagined that a decade could transform a relationship from a stepson and a stepmom into one that transcended all odds and became something so completely remarkable.  He's not my flesh and blood, but he's my heart.  I am so proud to be his mom, and thankful to all the people who allowed and encouraged me to be here for him and let him be a whole part of my life.  No stepparent could wish for better than I have it now.

That shirt?  It's called a bro-tank. 

 Don't call it bro-stupid; he won't appreciate that.

One thing I've learned about life is that nothing is perfect.  Life is messy, and parenting is no exception.  Parenting your first child is particularly difficult, because you're doing everything for the first time.  I'm sure Cole would agree that I've not done everything well.  I don't always know what to do, or what to say, and I second guess myself.  But here's something else I've learned:  You gotta talk to your kid.  Talk about everything, even (especially!) the hard stuff.  If you come up with a good communication system, the rest will fall into place.  I think talking is one of the things we do best.  

And this kid, he talks to me.  He flaps on about nothing, and he asks me questions about everything.  He asks for advice, and he sometimes even takes it.  I am most grateful for that gift, even when it's noisy and chaotic.  My deepest prayer is that we can continue to communicate his whole life.  Please keep talking to me, G.

This week, he got his first job, celebrated his sixteenth birthday (today!), he gets confirmed tomorrow, and takes his driver's test Friday.  It's a big week.  It's a big life.  It's the beginning of what will be a remarkable adult life for him, and I cannot wait to walk with him the rest of the way to adulthood.  I cannot wait to see what he does as a man in this world and what kind of choices he makes.  He's going to be amazing and I am so so proud to have played a part in what he is becoming.

This blog post would probably embarrass him, but not as much as a stranger singing Happy Birthday in his lunchroom at school (I think.  Stay tuned for next year's birthday blog entry).  So I'm going to publish it at the end of a really amazing birthday, in the midst of a really amazing life.  Today, I'm celebrating the things that are easy about parenting -- not the least of which is loving my son.  Happy Birthday, Cole!

What Matters Most

I used to be single.  I used to be bored, and wonder if I was going to have a family of my own.  And then, suddenly, I woke up and I have all these crazy little loves in my life.  And luck and good fortune and blessings hardly begin to describe it.

Ill Equipped

Okay, so know what?  I realized recently that I do not have the necessary requirements to parent a teenager.  Seriously.  Who decided I am qualified to do this?

Last week, one day after school, Cole called to see if he could go to Caribou with some friends.  My first reaction was, "I don't know!  Why are you asking me?"  After brief internal deliberation, I told him he could go, but be home in an hour.  Then I called my mom and said, "Can my teenager go to Caribou after school?"  And she said, "Oh, I suppose.  For a little bit."  And then I was super relieved that I said the right thing.

I mean seriously.  When you're parenting a teenager, you need to think about things like:

Who are his friends?  Are they nice?  Do they drink coffee drinks nicely and study together or do they run around the coffee shop like idiots?  Is it okay to drop in and check on them?

Who are their friends parents?  Do they let their kids go to Caribou after school?

What happens if he goes out after school?  Will he get his homework done?  Is he with who he says he is?  Is he where he says he is?  Is it okay to buy spy gear to ensure I have necessary intelligence to make good decisions?  Do I trust him?  How will I know if I can't trust him? 

Truthfully, I do trust him.  I think he's an incredibly grounded young man.  I think he will make good decisions.  I think he will choose good friends.  I think he will be a Democrat.  (What??)  I think he will be a really good human being and we will survive these years.

But I also think that for good measure, I'll make sure to have a pair of night vision goggles and maybe a lie detector kit on hand.  And my mom on speed dial.

Virtual Reality

In 15 days, the teenager has sent and received...wait for it...4,081 text messages.  Holy crap, Cole.  That is an average of 272 per day.  I expect it'll calm down when the novelty wears off a little but WOW.  That's a lot of texting.  (He totally cracked up when I told him, by the way.  I'm guessing we'll add to that number when he texts his friends that information.)

When I posted the phone contract, I had a good friend ask me if I thought I was invading his privacy by reading his text messages.  She said, "would you read his diary?"  I thought about it briefly before I responded that it's not apples to apples.  What the teenager says in public...via text message or facebook is just that: public.  Therefore, it impacts his reputation and it impacts other people.  His diary would be for his eyes only, and wouldn't impact someone else directly.  I do not ever want to say, "I had no idea my kid was..."

I have checked his phone a couple times.  He always hands it over willingly.  He says, "Don't worry.  I told my friends I'm not allowed to swear."  SUPER.  Nice.  Good job, Cole.  It's vanilla. Nothing to worry about.  I don't read for content (trust me, it's almost all nonsense!), but for red flags.  If knowing I'm "peering over his shoulder" makes him think twice about behaving inappropriately, so be it.

When we were teenagers (a hundred years ago), I have no doubt that the boys sat around the fire or in someones bedroom on Friday nights and tried on bad words.  They talked about girls, and practiced swearing.  BUT that was the primary extent of their opportunity.  Those moments.  Now, kids have 24/7 access to each other.  What is the consequence of that?  If they start using that language now, at that frequency, I'm pretty sure it becomes part of their vernacular.  No thank you.

And what's the consequence of having primarily virtual relationships?  Do you learn to communicate well?  Do you learn eye contact?  Do you know how to read body language?  I am worried about these things. Therefore, I will continue to make sure the teenager has real face time with his friends.  I will continue to talk to him about relationships and how to treat women.  In real life (in addition to via text).

It's complicated.  This is the first generation of kids who will have access to their social network at all times.  I do wonder what the result/benefits will be.  I read this article while getting a pedicure tonight, which mirrored a lot of my thoughts.  Take time read it if you're interested.

4,081.  Seriously.

High School

I've only told a few people sporadically, but after a heartwrenching struggle to figure out what's best for him, we have decided that the teenager is going to high school here!  God bless his mother for putting his wishes before her own.  We could not be happier.  And you should be too.  Now I'll be able to share photos of his life in detail.  (Did I mention we're not supposed to tell him about this blog?  :))

Phone Contract

There are so many things I have to figure out about parenting a teenager.  Primarily, I have to figure out how to give him enough space to grow, but not enough that he'll do damage. 

We're super lucky, because the teenager didn't ask for a phone until he was 14. But once he decided he wanted one, he did NOT let up. So today, after a month of nagging, I took him to get one. He's thrilled.

He said that all of his friends have phones and they all have internet access on it (say WHAT?!).  So I told him his friends must have really nice, and wealthy parents.  Then I asked if any of them have to pay for their phones.  He said no, most of them are a reward for good grades.  I told him it's too bad he's such a crappy student (he finished eighth grade with a 3.7 GPA).  *sigh*  What to do?  Here's what we came up with.

He signed this before taking possession of his phone:

PHONE CONTRACT

I, The Teenager, understand that the phone I have received does not belong to me, but is on loan from Dad and Leanne.  I can use it for my personal use so long as I follow these rules:

I agree to leave it on top of the fridge when I go to bed (or 11:00 p.m., whichever comes first), and I will retrieve it when I'm up for the day.

I agree that any of my parents can read my text messages at any time.

I agree that if any one of my parents asks me for my phone, I must relinquish it immediately, not after I 'clean it up.'

If any of my parents call or text me, I agree to respond within five minutes, unless I am at school or a participating in a school-related activity. 

I agree that any of my parents can take my phone away for any reason, at any time, as they see fit.

I agree to pay Dad and Leanne $10/month in cash, chores, or babysitting.  If I don't meet that financial requirement, I will forfeit my phone until that amount is met.

I recognize that this phone is for my personal use, but I will not use it inappropriately.  I will not use bad language, hurt another person, use inflammatory or derogatory language, or take inappropriate photos.  If I do these things, I risk losing my phone permanently.

I understand that my parents trust me, and will continue to do so until I give them a reason not to.

Signed by the teenager, July 3, 2011.

I gave a copy to his mom and patted myself on the back.  Nothing like making a contractual agreement with a 14-year-old.  I should have had it notarized.  Let the nagging cease.

Editing to add this link to another mom's post that I love that includes her contract.  For future reference.  :)

HEY!

Did you know this thing had stats?  I had no idea I could see how many pageviews I got per day and where they came from.  Eeks.  My ego does not need that knowledge.  I'm going to forget I know that.

Privacy is for the birds.

I am completely overwhelmed by the number of readers I have.  Man.  You guys must be really bored to read my drivel.  Heh.  No, honestly, I'm flattered.  The thing is, these thoughts are always in my brain.  So to me, they're old, tired opinions.  But I forget that I don't share them out loud very often, so to you it's not old.  And I'm grateful for your audience.

So...the teenager is on Facebook.  And honestly, I want to hide this place from him.  I adore him, and someday, he can know everything I think and feel about parenting him.  But right now, at fourteen years old...please God, no.  Not yet.  Our relationship needs to be strong.  He needs to think that I'm strong and unwavering because that equals security. 

I can never remember my mother being weak.  Ever.  She's told me as an adult that she had her moments. That she thought we'd always remember her laying on the couch because she was always so tired (and often pregnant!).  I don't remember that.  The only times I remember her laying on the couch is when we played "barber shop."  And I LOVE that.  I love that my parents were a portrait of strength and security.  And although they were fallible, I didn't know it.  I want that for Cole, too.

Aaaand, while I'm on the subject, just so you know, I hesistated accepting Cole's friend request.  (Shhh...don't tell him that either).  I teased him for a few weeks about him friending everyone but me, but I didn't really mean it.  I want to be his friend, but I don't want him to be mine.  It's like having your teenager in your living room in the middle of all your adult conversations.  Annoying. 

So, mum's the word.  I'll keep on keeping on and when I post a link from this blog to Facebook, I'll hide it from him.  I thank you, dear readers, for helping keep my secret.

Besides, I'm probably flattering myself.  I'm guessing he thinks I'm old, and boring.  And could give a rip about my thoughts or opinions or my blog.  And if that helps keep him away from here, super.  Although someone should probably let him know how young, and hip I am.  What UP, Johnny?!

Thanks for working through that little dilemma with me!

Can I get a little privacy, please?

My blog is going to go private this weekend.  If you want to continue to read it, please comment here with your email address, or email me at leanne dot peterson at comcast dot net.  I will explain more, once it's private. 

Muchos gracias.  And I miss you!

My Crush(ed Heart)

Don't be creeped out, but I have a crush on teenage boys.  Ever since I wasn't a teenager myself, I have been enamored by kids that age.  They're silly, and they love to have fun and to laugh.  They're smart and are sure they know everything.  They're awkward, yet coming into themselves. 

So when my teenager hit this age, it was no surprise that I fell in love with him all over again.  He is all of those things, as I previously shared. 

He's been bringing his friends home for the first time ever.  I love it.  He has a couple really great friends, and I love having them here.  I told my mom that today and she said, "Did you feed them, right away?"  And I got the giggles, because that's the first thing I wanted to do. 

And then, overwhelmingly, I got sad.  Because for the next four years, he'll be with his mom, an hour away.  And for the first time in eight years, he won't be coming home to me after school.  I won't be his constant.  I don't even know if he'll think of me, or miss coming here, or me.  But I sure as hell know I'm going to miss him.  I don't see him most mornings, but I love when he walks in off the bus in the afternoons.  He usually lingers for five or ten minutes while we talk about his day and go over homework.  His mom and dad have always worked full time, so I have spent so much time with him over these years.  My heart breaks when I think of next school year, when he's not here at all.  Not getting off the bus.  Not walking in the door.

I know he'll do well.  He'll make friends in his new town, and he'll continue to be a smart kid.  He'll do what he loves to do and he'll probably make girls crazy, with his good looks and warped sense of humor.  Hopefully he'll play football like he wants to do, and we'll drive up to his new hometown on Friday nights for games.  And I'll spend some time feeling cheated out of the high school years, but more time feeling proud.  That I laid some of the groundwork for this kid.  That he knows, without question, that I love him, and that he's mine, as much as he belongs to his mother and his father.

I feel like we're losing custody, after eight years.  I'm not mad at his mom.  I know she did what she did with good intentions for her own family.  But I still feel gypped.  For today, I feel sad.  I know avoiding the fact that this was coming isn't healthy.  So I'll share it here, with you, so that I can start to work through the pain of losing him. 

And so that someday, when he's older, he can know how I felt about him moving away from us.  And how important he always has been to this family.  Blended families are hard, folks.  These are the consequences.  Thank you for supporting me and allowing me to share this part of my life with you.  I feel inspired by your support and kindness, as always.

Cool Mom

I'm trying hard to be his cool, hip mom.  I am not succeeding.  He won't friend me on facebook because he says I'll embarrass him.  He's probably right. 

Our conversation tonight:

The teenager, playing Xbox Live with his friends:

Cole:  Hey, Leanne, Johnny says hi.
Me: Oh!  What UP, Johnny?
Cole:  She says, "Hi, Johnny, how are you?"

ROAR!  Can't blame a mom for trying.

Mother's Day

Dear Boys:

Everything I did before I became your mother was preparing me for raising you.  I know that now.  Here are some examples:

1.  I learned to work hard.  My parents didn't expect me to work, per se, but I knew if I wanted anything special I would have to earn the money for it myself.  So when I was thirteen, I got a job.  And I never stopped working.  I'm not afraid to work hard, and you can rest assured that I will do everything in my power to make sure you have all of the basic comforts.  And you can bet I'll ask you to earn some of your own money when you're a teenager.  (Get a job, Cole!)

2.  I learned to take care of kids.  I am the second oldest of eleven kids.  Of the oldest five, four are girls.  Of the bottom six, four are boys.  So when I was a teenager, there were lots of little boys to care for.  Raising boys is familiar to me.  I thank Tim, Mike, Dan, Stevey, and Ryan for that.  You are better cared for because I cared for your uncles first.

3.  I learned the value of a hug.  Your grandmother, my mom, has always been affectionate.  To this day, there isn't a finer memory of her stroking my hair or my face, or wrapping me up in a hug.  So, following her example, you will always know what my arms around you feels like.  I'm sorry in advance for how embarrassing that will be as you get older.

4.  I learned to follow my inner voice.  I am going to teach you the basics, boys.  I'm going to teach you to trust God, and be good.  I am going to insist that you love yourself and your neighbor.  I am going to remind you that God loves you deeply.  And then, when you're older and you hear the calling of your own heart, I am going to encourage you to sit still, say a prayer and listen. 

5.  I learned I don't know everything.  Here is something I really want you to learn:  It's okay to not have the answer.  It's in those moments, you will learn the most.  It will cause you to look around you, listen to God and search out your own answer.  It's good to admit to yourself, and often out loud, that you simply do not know.  Then, once you do that, I will expect you to go find it.

I learned a lot before you were born, and you have taught me so much since.  I am blessed beyond greatest measure to be your mother.  I take my role very seriously and my heart simply overflows with the love I have for you.  Every day I thank God that He gave me to you.  For every moment that you are on this earth, I will love you.

Be kind, boys.

Love, Mom

I kind of like it like this.

This is the last photo he'll ever allow me to take with him.  

The Surprise Smooch was the perfect Last Shot.

In December of 2002, when we told Cole his dad and I were getting married, he threw both arms in the air and with a fist pump said, "YES!  I'm going to have TWO moms!" 

I gush about the teenager all the time.  Because he's totally gush-worthy.  He's helpful, and kind, and so funny.  He's clever and has a good heart.  I adore him. 

But if I'm being perfectly honest, and I think it's important to be: It wasn't always this easy.  There were times when I didn't gush at all.  

I met Cole when he was five.  He was a bright, albeit hyper little boy.  Those first couple years were good.  But things started to get difficult for me when he was about eight.  I was pregnant for Matthew, I think, when things got challenging.  A)  Eight to ten is kind of a rough age for little boys.  They're no longer cute and silly, but they're not old enough to reason with.  Its an age filled with frustration and boredom (the desire to "play" wanes a bit...) and annoyance.  B)  I had my own child to compare motherhood to.  I won't lie.  It was hard.  I had to force myself to love him sometimes.  And, the one and only time he played me (lied to his mom to get his way), happened in October 2004.  It was horribly painful for me.  And only he and I knew the truth.

I remember around that time, I heard somewhere that you're supposed to smile every time your child walks into the room.  I remember feeling like I just couldn't always do that.  I was home with Matthew on maternity leave, and because it was summer, I was spending a lot of time with Cole too.  His mom and dad both worked a lot, and I admit that I had some resentment about how much "care" I had to give him.  Because it wasn't me he wanted to spend time with.  The second I picked him up, and every hour until Cory got home he's say, "Where's my dad?"  "When will he be home?"  That used to be very difficult for me, being a parent, but not being one he wanted.

But here's the thing: I tried my damndest to make sure Cole never felt my frustrations.  I have always been very honest about my feelings, and believe in sharing them and getting them out.  I found friends who I could trust, and my mom, of course.  I talked to them about my challenges, so I could be the best mom to Cole possible.

In September 2009, Cole and I had the mother of all fights.  It started with something silly, and erupted into a "you're not my mom!" fight.  A horrible, terrible fight in which Cole went on a rampage saying things that were hurtful.  So terribly hurtful.  After that fight, he and I didn't talk for a couple weeks.  At all.  We had taken the television out of his room as a consequence.  I had told him that to get it back, all he had to do was apologize.

When I was ready, I picked him up from his mom's.  It was clear that we were both done being hurt and angry, and we had a long talk.  I talked to him about anger, and hormones.  And I told him that it's okay to feel anything, but it's not okay to hurt other people.  I said, "You know how sometimes you'll be having a perfectly normal day and then all of a sudden you're so mad you want to punch a wall?  Well, that's hormones.  And it's normal.  And it's okay to be that mad, but it's not okay to punch the wall."  I followed it with, "You know what you have to say.  And I know it's really hard, but it's important.  Just say it quick and be done with it."  He turned to me and said, "Sorry."  I said, "I forgive you."  And we haven't had a fight since.  No lie.

When boys are eight, nine, ten, and they get mad when they don't get their way.  They scowl, say ugly things, march down the hall, slam their door, and keep the silence until they're over it (with Cole, it's always over after a good night's sleep).  I used to follow after him with my own "last word."  And one day, I realized that I was part of the problem.  It got so much easier once I learned to walk away.  Once I learned to let him storm down the hall without my voice chasing him down, making him feel worse, things got so. much. better.

When boys are thirteen, they reason with you.  You give them a consequence for behavior and they understand it.  If I'm not being fair, they say, "That is really unfair.  Do you think we could..."  They reason.  They negotiate.  They learn that if they help out willingly, they will get extra video game time.  The art of you-scratch-my-back-I'll-scratch-yours is mastered.  YES.  This is the good stuff.  Real life skills, implemented.

For the past 20 months, things have been dreamy.  Cole often walks in the door and says, "Hey, can I take the kids to the park?" He helps me haul in groceries -- every time -- without being asked.  He automatically clears the table after dinner.  He loves to help me cook.  He's been with us full time since January, when his mom moved a few towns away.  Next year, when he goes to high school, he's going to be with her the majority of the time.  And my heart catches when I think of it, because he's such a treat to have around.  I no longer have to worry about not being able to smile when he walks into a room.

What I've tried to remember every day for the nine years I've been a stepparent is this:  I picked Cole.  He was part of Cory's life when I met him and I CHOSE him.  I married both of them, and there is a huge amount of responsiblity in that.  It hasn't always been easy, but it's always been good.  I've been good for Cole.  He's been good for me. 

Last winter, I had an opportunity to talk to Cole about blended families (REAL conversations.  I love having real conversations with him).  We were talking about how you get multiple holidays if your mom and dad split up and I suggested to him that most kids would prefer to have their mom and dad together than have bonus holidays.  And I asked him, boldly, and for the first time, "How about you, Cole?  Do you wish your mom and dad had stayed together?"  He thought for only a brief moment before he answered, "Nah.  I kind of like it like this."  Halleluja. 

And now,  on his fourteenth birthday, I can feel confidently, that through my hard work and my constant self-examination and hours and hours of prayer, I've earned those fist pumps that little guy gave me nine years ago.  I kind of like it like this too.

This and oh, that teenager...

Tonight, Cole was helping the babysitter take care of the boys so I could go to a funeral (another post for another day).

The bathroom was  a disaster (bad), but the kids were freshly bathed (good).

He let them play with the batcave in the bath (questionable), but he rinsed out the tub (good).

He didn't put the trainset back together like I requested (oy), but he did help them clean the toys in their room (yay!).

I got home at the rugrats' bedtime.  I was fighting with them to turn off Monsters Inc. and go brush their teeth.  Cole said, "Hey!  Want me to tell you guys a Thanksgiving story?"  He closed their door for about ten minutes, lest my audience distract him.  Then, when he opened the door and I heard Jack arguing that he was going to have a bad dream, and didn't want to go to bed.  I heard Cole say, "I'll give you something Poppa always used to give me so I wouldn't have bad dreams." 

He came out of the bedroom, got a bowl and re-entered their room.  He asked them both to lie still and close their eyes.  He then sprinkled fairy dust on them.  As he closed their door, he said, "Now, guys, if you dream about pumpkin pie, you'll taste it."

Oh, that teenager.  He's not perfect, but he's wonderful.

The Teenager and His Mom

A couple months ago, my stepson's mom (my co-mom), Kelly, told me that she and her boyfriend had put in an offer on a home 45 minutes away.  She was concerned about my reaction, and I think I surprised her when I was immediately supportive.  Cole had already mentioned it, so the surprise factor was missing for one thing.  (And when he told me, I cried.  So I had already crossed that off the list.)

Kelly is a wonderful mom and a really good friend.  She's always been so supportive of me and I would not have been able to be a successful stepmom to Cole without her kindness and support.  She always backs me up.  Always.  And we're a strong united parenting force, and for the rest of my life I will be so grateful for our relatively uncomplicated blended family.  (Disclaimer: No relationship is perfect, and ours is no exception.  But it's really good.)

When I thought about Cole moving away (except for the eight months we were in Iowa, we've never lived more than four miles apart), I was so sad.  The boys will miss him so much.  I will miss him so much.  He's such a wonderful person.  The past year of his life have been amazing.  He's grown into a person I can have regular conversations with.  He's helpful and kind, and calm.  We talk things through and he shares his life with me.  I adore him.

Kelly has spent the past ten years or so raising Cole in a small house in a nearby town.  She has worked hard to make sure his needs were always met.  Now that she's expecting her second baby with her boyfriend, they have definitely outgrown her little house.  And when I think of how supportive she's always been of our life changes (the job in Iowa, our new homes, jobs, etc.), I knew I couldn't withhold my support now. She's going to have a big house with plenty of space for all of them.  And she deserves that. 

Cole is really excited about the move.  And I'm sort of grooving the idea of him going to a smaller high school.  I never missed living in a small town until I had kids of my own.  There is something amazing about growing up knowing all of your classmates.  I will miss that for the rugrats. 

Our visition will naturally change. But when I think of his age (and the fact that he'll be a freshman in high school (high school!  how did that happen already?!), I realize that visitation will probably happen in the  next couple years anyway.  And now that he's older, and presumably well-adjusted, and understands his important role in our family, I think it'll be okay.  We'll hog him on holidays and in the summer, and whatever other time we can steal away.  He knows how much we love him and how much we need him in our lives.  The timing is better than if he were eight or nine.

At the end of the day, it's not perfect, but it's okay.  When I weighed the pros and cons, I realized that it will suit all of us better to be supportive of Kelly and her new opportunity.  I really am so happy for them.  And while I'll miss seeing The Teenager as much, I can't begrudge anyone this change.

Over and over I am grateful that my life gave me all this.  That Kelly has been so kind and loving and more than anything, so supportive of my role as Cole's stepmom.  I wish them God's blessings in their new home as they settle in later this year and wish them nothing but happiness.  I'm willing to shelve my selfish feelings and our time with Cole for their growing family.  Because many times over, she's done that for me.  I am SO blessed.

Fall Photo

The teenager, the fivester, the threester and a stick.  Oh, how I love my boys.

Halloween

This year's costumes.

Jack was going to be a puppy, but fell in love with this skeleton costume at Kmart.  And since it was 50% off, I let him get it.  He might be the cutest skeleton ever.  He said his mask was "stinky" but wouldn't take it off. 

Matty first wanted to be the Scream ghost, then a ninja, but fell in love with this Transformer costume...evidently is Bumblebee, but I didn't know the he had ever seen Transformers and knew who Bumblebee was (am I already losing touch with my children??)

Cole wasn't going to dress up, but we convinced him to do a pirate costume.  I don't think this even looks like him.  He's such a cool kid.  (new Cole post coming soon.)



I love my dressed-up boys.  So much.

Sketches

The teenager is a pretty good sketch artist.  He just showed me some fish he's been working on.

EDITED:  Oh my gosh.  Cory was doubting these drawings, so we did a random room search.  They're tracings.  I thought about just taking this post down, but I think it's pretty typical for his age.  Now the question is (and I value your input), do you confront him and call him out on it??  The teenager is going to be the death of me.  :) 

The Teenager

Cole will be thirteen on Saturday (there are so many blog posts to branch off of that statement!).  When I asked him what he wanted and wanted to do for his birthday, he said he wanted a surprise party.  In case you have his logic, here is my primary argument with that:  you can't ask for a surprise party.  Kind of defeats the purpose.  So of course, I said no.  Then I promptly tried to come up with an idea that would satisfy his need for excitement, anticipation and surprise.  This was the best I could do.

I called Kelly and asked if we could borrow him on her night.  She graciously said yes.  So we showed up at her house around 5:15 to "kidnap" him.  We blindfolded him and instructed him not to ask any questions.

I had Cory turn down some random streets.  When we got to a cul-de-sac, I took Cole out of the car (I may or may not have walking him into the car door...depends who you ask.), and walked him around the car.  And then had him get back in.  A blind-folded Chinese fire drill.  WAY fun for ME!

Cory led him into the restaurant.  He was totally messing with him the whole time.  "Okay, step UP."  "Okay, step DOWN."  When there were no steps.  Man, I wish I'd have videotaped it.

The only photo I didn't get is the "Surprise" photo. But he was so happy.  He felt very special, and loved sharing his birthday with Grandma and Grandpa, Tanya and Jason and the kids.  He wanted to take the sombrero home.  He's a great kid, and that was super fun.  I'll have to think of a way to top it for next year! (Note to other moms:  have fun with your teenager.  Laugh when you can.  It's worth it.)