We have always been strict about handing our boys whatever they ask for. In fact we just don’t do it, ever. We don’t want to be mean, but I’d rather have them think that then turn out spoiled and lazy. The way we have solved this situation is to “hire” them to do work. This is the type of work that is outside their regular chores that go with being a member of the family. This is the kind of hard labor I might hire out anyway. Today was a work day. They all have weekend plans with their friends and they know that’s not cheap. So, Donny invited his friend Wesley over so they could both work and earn together today. They have been washing my windows for eight hours! Jack was their assistant the whole day. Kevin and Jordan helped me in the yard. We had a lot of trimming and cleaning up to do. Then Jordan vaccuumed and mopped the wood floors. Kevin’s a cleaning helper as well. We have accomplished a lot in one day and now they can afford to have the fun they want with their friends. In essence I really did pay for their fun, but it didn’t come without some help around here.

 

All week the kids were planning on their “get rich” day. They were ready to work because they are all out of money. I had to be ready to coach them and work along side them as well. Kevin likes this stuff the least so I kept him by my side. I trimmed the pygmy palms (eight of them) and he gathered up the mess. We got attacked a couple times by fire ants, and that’s no good. But he stuck with the job. It was good to see him embrace the work. Sometimes I wonder if he’d give me twentybucks to let him go read his favorite novel.

He’ll probably spend all his money on books, as usual.

Jordan trimmed all my queen palm trees today, helped clean up a terribly overgrown border in the back yard, vaccuumed and washed the wood floors, and he helped scrub the hard water deposits off the lower windows in the guest room. He has plans to go to the movies tonight with his friends. He understands what it costs to have fun and it never occurs to him to ask us to pay for it. But, he will say, hey, can I have a job because I am out of money. (he likes to buy jamba juice after school at about 6 bucks a drink!)  I always have jobs for the boys.

All I can hope is that our home economy matches the one they’ll eventually enter: as hard as you work is directly related to how well you get paid. I really hope they develop a solid work ethic, it will take them a long way in life.

Apple Pie with Dried Cherries

• crust:
• 2 1/2 cups flour
• 1 tsp salt
• 1 tsp sugar
• 1 cup unsalted butter chilled and cut into pieces
• 1/4 – 1/2 cup ice water.
• In the bowl of a food processor, combine flour, salt and sugar.  Add butter, and process until the mixture resembles coarse meal, 8-10 seconds.
• With machine running add ice water in a slow steady stream through feed tube. Pulse until dough holds together without being wet or sticky; be careful not to process more than 30 seconds. To test, squeeze a small amount together: if it is crumbly, add more ice water, one tbsp. at a time.
• Divide dough into two equal balls. Flatten each ball into a disk and wrap in plastic. Transfer to the refrigerator and chill at least an hour.  Dough may be stored, frozen up to one month.

Filling

• using a nine inch pie plate
• 3/4 cup sugar
• 1/4 cup flour
• 1/2 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
• 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
• 1/2 cup dried cherries
• 6 cups of apples: peeled, cored, and thickly sliced. I mix the type of apples I use to improve the flavor of the pie. My choices are: granny smith, golden delicious, and honeycrisp or fuji.
• mix all of that into a bowl.
• dust the bottom of a rolled out pie crust with instant tapioca pudding to absorb extra liquid
• fill the pie with apple
• bake at 425 degrees for 40 minutes covering the crust if necessary to prevent burning
• then add the crumb topping (recipe follows) for another 20 minutes
• 1 cup flour
• 1/2 cup firm butter
• 1/2 cup brown sugar
• combine to a cornmeal consistency

Let sit for 20 minutes before serving, and definitely don’t forget a scoop of vanilla haagen daaz. Enjoy!

It’s impossible not to appreciate the enthusiasm an eight year old and his class of 20 have for this holiday. They invited us “old people” to come to the classroom for a little celebration to close out their week on Tuesday and herald in a five day weekend. These guys don’t works hard enough to know what a relief it is to have five days off. Jack’s older brothers definitely feel the relief, especially after taking big tests in every class yesterday and today before getting sent home. There’s a definite exhale that happens for everyone the moment they arrive home and know they have a holiday to enjoy (rather than school). My kids like school, but it’s so much more intense these days than it was when I was doing it. I feel for them. Anyway, I toted my BIG camera to Jack’s class today in case I might get some cute pix of him with his buds. Of course, he’s my camera partner so he took advantage of me and asked for several photos…. I won’t keep you waiting:

Out side in the hall the class posted their home made turkeys decorated in disquise. Jack is pointing out his for me. Can I just say he’s always so happy. What a blessing it is to be appreciated by him. While I was in his class observing the kids playing a pictionary game on the board, he was the only kid sitting in his mama’s lap by choice, and he hugged me tightly so many times. He was really so pleased I was there with him.  It’s nice since I have teenagers to have this darling boy who still thinks I’m the best cook in the world, the prettiest woman, and snappiest dresser with the best camera skills of anyone in the world. I won’t set him straight on those things, ever. And I hope no one else does either.

Jack asked me to take this picture of the kids he sits with. There are five desks that are all pressed together into one pod and these are the kids he works with. His best friend is Griffin on the far right in black. I really adore the little one in the middle, her name is Mahogany. Isn’t that just the best?

What fun! Of course I prefer this silly face picture better than the straight one they do because they are trying to be obedient to the adults who are taking a picture that’s supposed to be “perfect”. I rather see the real nature of the kids, and in this photo I think it’s there. Another thing I am thankful for this thanksgiving: I have the kind of schedule that is flexible so I can easily attend these fun times with my sons.

One of my treasured Thanksgiving decorations is a hand print of Jack with a couple feet drawn in, a beak placed just right, and a gobbler placed just so. It’s a turkey handprint. I hope every mother has one.  Thankfully the organized teacher at the time laminated mine and it has a little verse that goes like this:

This isn’t just a turkey as anyone can see. I made it with my hand, which is a part of me. It comes with lots of love. Especially to say, I hope you have a verry happy Thanksgiving Day!

Tomorrow I will share my protected and coveted Apple dried Cherry Pie recipe. I used to make this regularly for my friends in AZ. I think their mouths are watering right now by even the mention of it…tomorrow yours will be too…

I have not always loved Thanksgiving like I do now. I took it for granted, thought it was  common, and basically used it as an excuse to overeat. That all changed when our family lived one year overseas in Cardiff, Wales. We had three little boys . Donny was only in first grade. Jordan was four, and Kevin turned two after we moved there. Most of that year was spent learning what it means to be American. We figured this out by contrast ing what we were used to in America with what we were experiencing every day in the UK such as: how to go to the doctor (socialized), where to mail a letter (you post a letter there), and how to drive on the other side of the road in a car that has the wheel on the opposite side (without killing everyone in sight). Every minute was spent absorbing new routines and learning to fit in. It was both exhilarating and exhausting. At night all of us collapsed. But we LOVED it,  we still fondly reminisce about it as the “time” of our life.

I was in stride with our new routines in Cardiff after a couple months.This  is when the holidays crept up on me. I was patterned to initiate the season with shopping for my turkey. It’s a monumental event for me to assemble my Thanksgiving grocery list and go collect the delicacies. It signifies the holidays have arrived, and I do so enjoy celebrating this season.  When I got to the Tesco in Cardiff it was the first time it occurred to me that no one was going to be celebrating a turkey dinner that week. Duh. That sounds really stupid, but we were young Americans for the first time out of the country. It was difficult to get a turkey that wasn’t frozen. I had to pay a fortune for it. And forget finding cranberry sauce to make my kid’s favorite jello. Pumpkin wasn’t so popular either. We scrapped an eclectic meal together and called it Best We Could Do.

The kids played here at Roath Lake Park in Cardiff Wales

Craig couldn’t have the day off work! The kids had to go to school! I was home alone in a kitchen not mine cooking a thanksgiving feast while I watched people pass by our window living life as usual. This is when I fiercely experienced my first loyalty to this holiday. My country at home was stopping life to get with family, enjoy a traditional meal and give thanks to God. A patriot in me was established. Ever since that meal in a foreign land it has been my favorite holiday.

It makes me think of all the people who live as expats. I know they feel lonely celebrating Thanksgiving in a foreign country, and yet, I hope it makes them feel a greater sense of loyalty to our American heritage. We really are a great nation. Not all is lost. We still have Thanksgiving. When that’s gone, I hope I am too.

This is the castle right in the center of the city.

I am sitting at the honda dealership writing this while the van gets an oil change. Everyone waiting is enjoying small talk about their Thanksgiving plans. I bought my turkey earlier today and the stores were buzzing with shoppers and flowing with all the ingredients on my list. Sharing this celebration with fellow Americans is something I am thankful for.

Some things I believe about cooking Turkey:

• I brine my turkey for 24 hours before roasting it.
• brining guarantees flavor and moistness, and doesn’t require basting.
• basting frustrates the cooking process because the temperature doesn’t remain constant.
• I rub dijon mustard under the skin
• I put sausages in the bottom of the pan to add flavor and supplement the meat assortment
• I don’t put stuffing in the cavity. I put aromatics like onion, celery, herbs, lemon and garlic in there. Then I throw that away.
• I use a thermometer in the thigh to get an accurate assessment of whether it’s “done”. I take it out at 180 degrees and it continues to go up while it rests.
• A bird bigger than about 17 pounds won’t be as tender and moist.
• I only use a fresh turkey.
• This year I bought an organic turkey.

It has been an enjoyable weekend, just as I hoped. I try not to have great expectations because that’s only a set up for a disappointment. While in Uganda I reminded everyone, “if we don’t have expectations we can’t be disappointed”. I hope to enjoy what comes my way, and if my plans follow through then I am thankful. But like the song says, ‘you’ve got to want what you’ve got’. For this weekend, I’m just glad the kids didn’t kill eachother, Lucy didn’t fall in the pool, Craig didn’t get a flat tire on his bike ride,  I have another pot of minestrone simmering, and we spent some good quality time with my roommate from the Uganda trip. It was great putting our families together. The things I hoped to do and haven’t yet reached will be there for me another time. Deadlines don’t serve me well as a Mama. I need to be more fluid than that because my needs are last when the boys have needs. And I think that’s ok.

There was a snafu. I did my best to gracefully proceed to a solution and shrug it off rather than allow it to ruin the night. Jordan made home made bread for our dinner with our friends. He used the lower oven. I had the ribeye pot roast in the top oven braising for several hours while I ran some errands. Jordan was doing dishes when he asked Donny to turn off the oven where he made the bread. Donny turned off our roast. It was forty-five minutes to serving time when I realized the problem. In fixing the problem with the two ovens somehow the bottom oven where the potatoes were roasting got turned off! Ugghhh. I sent Donny to the store for three roasted chickens. !(And I didn’t even yell at anyone) Everyone laughed, choked down rubbery potatoes and enjoyed the bread. I urged them to come back after church for the roast beef and I’d make mashed potatoes to go with it, so they did! Roast beef is always more tender the next day so it was just as well. We were able to enjoy two dinners together for the invite of one and I say that’s a bonus.

I read somewhere that optimists usually end up disappointed, and so logically it would follow that pessimists find themselves mostly surprised. I wonder if there’s a way to stride right in the middle somehow? It wouldn’t be boring would it? Craig likes to say a person who is ordinary in every way is truly extraordinary. With my faith, circumstances rarely affect the joy I have, because I know God is with me, for me, leading me, and protecting me. Disappointment helps me grow but it doesn’t ruin my joy. Happiness is just gravy. 

Thanksgiving gravy tips:

• it’s important to have a fat separator. It’s a measuring cup with a spout that comes up from the bottom. The fat floats to the top and the liquid pours out from the bottom. Use the liquid and not the fat for making the gravy.
• everyone complains about lumpy gravy because the flour clumps when it hits the hot liquid. Here’s the trick: first mix the flour with some water and whisk it up then pour it into the the gravy. Don’t have the heat too high and continue to whisk the gravy so it doesn’t burn.
• I like a dribble of heavy cream into the gravy (however I don’t exactly eat gravy being gluten intolerant, but I measure my success by the silence and mmms of my boys gobbling it up)
• When the gravy is as thick as it needs to be strain it through a seive before placing it in the gravy boat. No one likes the little burnt bits ruining their mashed potatoes.
• If you find some dehydrated porcini mushrooms they add so much flavor to a gravy. Add boiled water to the mushrooms and let them plump. Separate the mushrooms from the liquid. Put the mushrooms around the turkey or in the cavity. Keep the liquid for adding to the gravy.
• white wine is always an addition I put in my gravy. About a quarter cup.
• Most important of all: Never ever let it cool. It is the last thing you should make and the last thing that lands on the table. Cold gravy is disgusting.
• Please never mix store bought gravy with the real thing. Give the kid’s table store bought gravy and give the discerning palettes of the adults the real thing.

We have four pies that make our table at Thanksgiving when we have a crowd: lemon meringue, pumpkin, apple, and chocolate peanutbutter pie. This year because it’s just us and I have some chick flicks to watch that day while they take in the football games I requested they choose their favorite pie: apple- no contest. They also like me to cook up some hot cinnamon chunky applesauce to eat with the dinner. (spoiled) Here’s the recipe for Chocolate Peanut Butter Pie: (always a hit with everyone)

• Use a store bought chocolate graham cracker crust
• 1/2 cup smooth peanut butter
• 1 cup sugar
• 1/2 cup butter
• 2 whole egg yolk
• 2 oz. unsweetened baking chocolate melted
• 1/3 cup flour
• 1 tsp. vanilla
• 2 egg whites
• 1/8 tsp. salt

Melt the peanutbutter in the microwave and cool a little before spreading on the bottom of the pie crust.  Cream together sugar, butter, yolks and  chocolate.  Add and beat flour and vanilla.  In a separate bowl whip until stiff the egg whites, sald and then gently fold them into the chocolate. Pour all of it into the pie crust on top of the peanut butter.  Bake for 30 minutes at 350 degrees.

This is Craig in his jammies mid morning. Thankfully he’s wearing a baseball cap to hide his bed head. He has his bible, computer, wallet, calculator and a stack of adoption application papers. He was so involved with his task, he had no idea I took this picture. We will provide our first round of papers to the adoption agency this Monday. After they review it we will have a phone conversation with them and begin to set up the home studies where we will be evaluated as a home and family to see if we are fit to receive a child. It will take four visits over four months to get us qualified. After we are approved we will then begin to select our daughter and then wait until we receive a court date in Uganda. Once we get the court date we will all go as a family to Uganda and prepare to receive her. I will have to remain in the country for up to six weeks! (help!) Craig will take the kids home and then return to help me bring her home. This entire process will take nine to twelve months. That means next year at this time we might have her in our arms.

Isn’t this orphan from the Watoto Bulrushes so adorable! We talk about what it will like to weave a sister into our fold here in the LaTorre household. We invite all manner of honesty and vision. Some feel that having a whining child will be challenging. Others concern about someone messing up their things. We all agree having the raw energy and joy of a little person in the house again will be a lot of fun.  Children are so entertaining as little toddlers. We look forward to big hugs, long cuddles and deep soulful eyes that say “I love you.”  I went to the mall today and I wished I was pushing a stroller with me. I saw other moms pushing theirs and it used to make me feel sad because my time is over, but now I am excited because I have one more go with a little pal to tote around town and introduce to living life as a LaTorre. Most of all Craig is eager to have a daddy’s girl. I want that for him too.

When we met with Patrick McCory, a pastor at our church, he helped us see going with an agency will take some unforeseen headaches and perplexities out of our adventure. We decided not to do an independent adoption and go instead with the Christian adoption agancy: Lifeline, based in Alabama. One piece of relief is that when I am in Uganda for many weeks they have a home for me to stay in! Nice. We feel like we will be well taken care of by this agency and the worst hassles can be prevented by their expertise. Next weekend I will update our process again. Please keep our desire to give a Ugandan orphan a forever home in your prayers. And pray for her to be safe and have hope that she will have a family to love her. Thank you.

I simply couldn’t tolerate the tower of boxes and Christmas decorations that taunted me at the foot of our stairway yesterday. I could be convinced it spoke aloud: “See how behind you are! See how much work there is yet to do, and you aren’t even caught up on the other house and garden chores! You aren’t going to have a rest for a long time, sorry sister.” I wasn’t going to take that sort of teasing from a pile of decorations so I flew out of the house in a huff and went to the grocery store. I took the list of items needed for the local food pantry. I also brought the four shoe boxes to fill for preteen boys that will be distributed by Samaritan’s purse. I shopped for an hour happily thinking about satisfying other’s needs rather than my own. I forgot about the sour attitude that pile of decorations taunted out of me. I loaded my cart up. I tried to satisfy the needs of four families. I always choose four and it is simply to honor God for blessing us with four sons. When I delivered the pile of food I felt great. I remembered this is what Christmas season is all about. Doing a good deed was a good fix for my own skewed view of the upcoming holidays.

This morning I decided Christmas is going to have to wait for me to enjoy Thanksgiving first. I moved the whole pile into hiding places where it wouldn’t distract me from thinking about my gravy recipe, or finding the freshest turkey in town. Craig will be so happy when he comes home and there is no sign of Christmas yet, he thought it was a bad idea to get a head start too. I have always held tight to this belief: “I need to go about my business happily so, and if I’m not terribly happy about it either find a different business or just do less. If I can’t offer my happy self to a task, it might not be worth doing, it certainly won’t make anyone else happy if I do it begrudgingly.

So, a great burden drifted off my little back when all the boxes were tucked under the stairs, hidden in the guest room, and relocated to the garage. I feel relieved as when a hole opens in a stormy sky and light breaks through. It’s not too late for me to really enjoy this weekend preparing for Thanksgiving. So, now I am going to enjoy a weekend not thinking about Christmas. I am going to busy myself in the art room and get crafty. I might spend a couple hours knitting with my favorite old movie playing. I will certainly begin sorting my photos from Uganda. I will bake some cookies with Jordan. I’ll have some friends over for dinner tomorrow. I’ll take a long bike ride through the woods on a smooth path. I’ll get my camera out and stalk my boys. I’ll dream about what our daughter in Uganda might be doing right now. I’ll get lost in my garden happily pruning, hoeing, and planting. They’ll come looking for me when they are hungry, and they’ll know just where to find me. .. applying my happy self to the task at hand. When it’s time for Christmas decorations to come out I will go about it happily, for now, it’s not time yet.

Thanksgiving is not complete without some sort of cranberry element. My family’s absolute favorite part of the meal is my Cranberry jello mold. They won’t let me make this any other day of the year, because it is what makes the Thanksgiving meal just right for them. It’s not the exotic approach of the recipe, it’s the way it mixes a cold, sweet tart flavor in with the comfort food on the plate. I love that. So here it is:

• 6 ounces of gelatin: cherry flavored
• 8 1/2 ounces of crushed canned pineapple
• 16 ounce can of whole cranberry sauce

Dissolve gelatin in 2 cups of boiling water. Stir in pineapple. Chill to part set. Fold in cranberries. Put into a pretty mold. Chill. To serve dip the bottom of the mold into hot water, and then flip it upside down onto it’s serving plate. Sprinkle some whole cranberries around the sides, and zest some orange onto the plate (not the jello).

Honestly:  I usually make three of these because everyone goes back for seconds at the table. And at every meal they eat leftovers they ask, ‘where’s the cranberry jello?’.  Let me know if you decide to serve this for your meal this year!

Tomorrow:  I will talk about stuffing, and I will also update our process with the adoption! See you then.

I could have done without the homemade pilgrim hats as a kid, or the paper feather stapled to a band wrapped around  my head, but I wouldn’t change one other thing about Thanksgiving.  It ranks number one for me of all holidays that we celebrate as a nation. We are one week away now and though we do not have company visiting us for this occasion, the boys are having high debates about what should be served, what we can’t possibly live without on the Thanksgiving table and which football games are most important to watch. They are also choosing which dish they will help to make and which pie is their favorite to eat. Feeding boys is SO much fun.

I am one to let Christmas begin after Thanksgiving. I don’t like the commercialism of Christmas to over shadow this important holiday. It’s tradition to put our tree up the day after Thanksgiving. (Of course we’ll still be running the AC and wearing tank tops, shorts and flip flops but that’s the way it is in the south.) This year I made a big mistake and asked the boys to bring down the mountain of Christmas boxes from storage last weekend. I thought it would be wise to set up everything but the tree before Thanksgiving and then just do the outside decorations and the tree after Thanksgiving. It’s made me grumpy having to look at all that stuff before I get to enjoy the day that is supposed to herald in the Christmas season. I’ll never do this again! Why did I do it? Because I lapsed into the idiocy of being a follower. I see all my neighbors putting their wreaths up, lights out, and all the stores were filled with it before Halloween, and the public decorations are everywhere, so somehow I thought I was behind. Wrong. I need to stick to my own idea of good timing.

Why is it my favorite? It is the coming together of two cultures to share a meal of God’s bounty and give thanks to the Creator. It’s not about presents! It’s about a nation stopping it’s race for one day, being with the ones we love, and feeling the gratitude. It’s knowing the whole country has stopped to feast with Thanks. That thought just makes me spillover with joy.

George Washington declared the first official national Thanksgiving Day in 1789 in his first year as president. In his proclamation, he cited the nationwide peace and the ratification of the Constitution: “I do recommend and assign Thursday, the twenty-sixth of November next, to be devoted by the people of these states to the service of that great and glorious Being;…for the signal and manifold mercies, and the favorable interpositions of his providence in the course and conclusion of the late war; for the great degree of tranquility, union, and plenty, which we have since enjoyed; for the peaceable and rational manner in which we have been enabled to establish Contitutions of Government for our safety and happiness…”

During the next week I will post some of my favorite recipes!…and ALL of the boy’s favorites.

There are situations when I procrastinate simply because I do not feel prepared to make a decision. I dance all around the deed with other activities instead. When I took a writing class in Arizona my house was never so clean because I was avoiding writing poetry. What I’m really avoiding is the feeling of getting frustrated. I’m not a real fan of that sensation. Computer tasks will send me off into every which way but in front of the screen. After a big trip, when it’s time to select the photos to print I get squeamish because I want them all, but then again I don’t want a stack of 5,000 photos on my desk. Yet, the idea of sorting through that many seems like a guaranteed headache, so I put it off. Those are simple silly examples that don’t matter much in the scheme of life. But when it comes to big decisions then I ought to have a process. Deciding to adopt was no small matter, neither was moving all these times, or which school system to put the kids into, which activities to get them involved in… etc. Should I teach another bible study or go on another mission trip, knowing both take me away from my family and responsibilities as mom?  These decisions have long lasting effects, and I cannot make them flippantly.

I have found a list of 8 Tests to take before making a big decision (by June Hunt).

• Scripture test– Has God already spoken about it in his Word? (2tim 3:16)
• Secrecy test– Would it bother me if everyone knew this was my choice? (prov11:3)
• Survey test– What if everyone followed my example? (1 tim 4:12)
• Spiritual Test– Am I being people-pressured or spirit-led?  (gal 1:10)
• Stumbling test– Could this cause another person to stumble?  (romans 14:21)
• Serenity test- Have I prayed and received peace about this decision? (phil 4:6-7)
• Sanctification Test– Will this keep me from growing in the character of Christ? (2corin 3:18)
• Supreme Test– Does this glorify God?  ( 1 cor 10:31)

I like this list. Indecisiveness seems to course in our genes. Craig didn’t give it to our sons, I did, but each of them have it in their own way. I can only hope they will grow out of most of it and get help with the rest of it.  Now that we are in a coaching relationship with Donny at this point in his life I’m going to give this list to him as he begins to make the big life choices: Where to go to college, what to study, who to marry, what job to take, to move or not to move, what house to buy, how many grandchildren to give his mother… (ha!) I would have welcomed this structure of wisdom for making decisions when I was his age, had  I been a Christian at his age. What a blessing and a relief for me to send him away to college next year knowing he is grounded in his own faith.

It’s a promise in the bible: if we ask God for wisdom he will give it gladly. (James 1:5 If any of you lasks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will begiven to him.)

I am still scratching my head wondering why it was such  tug of war to get Donny to finish his college applications. He dragged that chore around like a leg made of lead rather than just get it done. Really it was almost as difficult to get him to finish the applications as it is to get Lucy to try swimming in the pool. She likes to stand in the water  on the step where she is sure footed and safe. No amount of fun she is missing, cajoling, begging or forcing will get that dog to come swim with us. But for Donny, he wants to be in a college next year and this is the first step to getting it done, so, why did he avoid it, procrastinate and fume? Fear of the unknown is my only idea, and no one ever thinks it’s a good idea to suggest a senior boy might experience fear, so I won’t either.

Well, it was exactly like that picture when we began to suggest he might do his college applications before school started when he had all the time to do it rather than wait til he was in the middle of five AP classes, committments and activities. Craig and I stood firm one one premise: we weren’t going to do it for him. If he isn’t mature enough to do it, he’s not ready to go. If we do it for him he’ll sit back and think he’s got a good set of servants to rescue him when his life gets a little uncertain. I have heard it is common for the parents to not only do the applications but also write the entrance essays! I can’t imagine how or why that would be a good idea. When the essays were in draft form I was the editor for him. I sent them back three or four times until they were authentic, well thought out and effective. But he labored over them. And when it was completed HE enjoyed the relief. Now we wait.

He applied to Texas A&M, Baylor University, Columbia, University of Michigan and Purdue.  His first choice lately is Baylor. It’s entirely up to him to make the choice that best fits his personality and goals. Goals… that’s the next big task to prod him towards. This however, we’ll not push too hard because it’s hard to know when you are seventeen years old what you want to do for the rest of your life. I think the undergraduate years are good for that self discovery.

In his own words…an essay to UofM:

“Science is an avenue for helping people. To me, learning to become a doctor or a specialist is a unique way to aid people with specialized needs. People are always going to need a doctor, and I want to participate in meeting their needs.  When I was thirteen I suffered from pain in my lower back that made it difficult for me to walk. My mom brought me to a physical therapist once a week and he gave me certain exercises to build up strength in my core and lower back.  The experience led me to discover how interesting the human body is.  As my back healed, I improved my fitness and my self-confidence. My body was able to heal itself, and I was able to do certain exercises to strengthen it.  I wanted to know how my body was able to heal itself, to get stronger, and to return to normal functions.  The interest I have in how the body works and why it works is the reason I want to study science at  UofM. I want to know about the body I use, and how I can help other people when they need instruction on taking care of it.  There is still much to discover about the mysterious intricacies of the human body, and I want to take these discoveries and apply them to people’s needs. To help people with pain and sickness is what motivates me to study science.”

It’s going to be difficult to watch him step out of the nest and test his wings but this is the point of raising kids, right? I keep telling my self, “right.”

Webster’s Definition of “Anger”: a strong feeling of displeasure and belligerence aroused by a real or supposed wrong.

I had a “strong feeling of displeasure”  the other day when I walked my dog around our neighborhood. I already had my hour workout, and then  I completed another two miles with her for her exercise, so I was feeling  the pressures of my day pushing me to get home quickly so I could accomplish what had to be done. I was almost home when I was confronted by a little rat like dog who was loose from his backyard. He’s just plain mean. We’ve had unfortunate meetings before. Once he chased me and Lucy into someone else’s yard against the corner in a fence. It bared all it’s nasty teeth, snarled and growled at us, refusing to back down no matter how much I yelled at it. The worst of it  was that  the owner (who has three dogs stuck in the backyard all the time) was in her yard watching my ordeal, and she didn’t do a thing. She couldn’t control the dog. It wasn’t obedient to her, and worse, I think she was afraid of it too. The very next day the thing did it again, but this time the husband was in his car and I gave him a good sound warning that I wasn’t going to be bullied by his dog again. So now here I am chased by this wretched creature back around the lake. I was five houses from home and forced to walk another three-quarters of a mile the other way to get home. Smoke was billowing out of my ears. When my time is thwarted by negligence of someone else, I’m usually quite put out, having a “strong feeling of displeasure”. I have the animal control number in my phone exactly because of this dog. I so wanted to call it, but I knew somehow,  somewhere in me that it wasn’t right.  Mistakes happen, it’s not like they let it out on purpose to chase me back around the lake and make me late.  What if I caused extreme guilt in one of their kids for being forgetful and it cost him their dog? I had to let it go. I didn’t want to be known as the neighborhood “bulldog”. Ha-ha. (my dog is a bulldog.)

I really hate to get angry. I’d like to avoid it at all cost.  It goes against who I believe I am. Seriously though, is it possible to avoid getting angry?  I don’t think so. But how we respond is the key.

For some reason freshman in high school  have a full immersion with anger. There seems to be a clash of hormone, peer pressure, school pressure, parent pressure, personal fears of failing or not fitting in and WHAM! These creatures are like the rat dog defending their corner of the world against all outsiders. When Donny went through his freshman year we battled it out head to head so many times I thought I wasn’t going to make it another round. But thankfully, I won, he got through the rough spot and we began to see eye to eye. His approach with his anger was to confront me, and have a good old fashioned debate. (Thank goodness God made me smart! I’d drown in parenting if my kids were already smarter than I am. I count that as a serious blessing. I hope some day they are significantly smarter than me, but not while they are in my care and I am responsible to God for them.)

Now, Jordan is exactly where Donny was when we went head to head. If I were really smart I’d have known it was coming. (That WILL be the case for Kevin and Jack… and our daughter!) But I was blindsided by Jordan. This time I was challenged by a type of anger I wouldn’t have  ever recognized. He has a passive aggressive style that comes in through the back door, not up front where I feel like I can pull out my own weapons and fight fair. I got bulldozed from behind!  In order to respect his privacy I’m not going to divulge details. Suffice to say in his passive aggressive approach he waited for me to go to Uganda and be absent before he made his choices. When I got home, there was a mess to clean up. Here’s the good news: I discovered it. We have talked about it. And I understand he didn’t mean to really “let the dog out”. It happened. We learned from it. We grew closer because of it. We are working together now rather than against each other. Thankfully for both of us, I didn’t call the dog catchers on him either, meaning I never let my anger out on him. I tried to see it from his perspective.  If I had let my anger vent our problems now would be escalating. Thankfully they are not getting worse, but instead we are getting closer, getting help, and discovering how to love eachother unconditionally.
If I had let my pride guide my decisions I’d be miserable right now. Instead I let the bible guide me, and I have hope instead. Hope for a heart in me that won’t be moved to actions of revenge when I feel anger swell up and produce smoking ears. Hope for a trusting relationship with my son that is based on grace not justice. Hope. Grace. Peace. Mmm, God is good.