Dear Parker,
There is so much I want to say to you. I have written and rewritten the first line of this post so many times. I began writing this on Memorial Day. Daddy was at breakfast with his cousin who happened to be in town. All you kids were fast asleep, and I was alone with my feelings. And believe you me, this blog post gave me all the feels.
13 years. Where? Where did they go? How did they slip through my fingers like sand?
When I look at you now, I can't help but see that munchkin in the bright yellow rain jacket that was a staple in your Seattle wardrobe when you were a toddler. That time period of your life is etched in my brain. Perhaps it's because that was the time when you had my undivided attention. That was a good and bad thing. I was not a graceful new mom. I had many a meltdowns (see previous blog posts). It was a time of extreme highs and lows. Thankfully, now, the highs take centerstage in my fuzzy memories...Parker on the "train ride" (being pulled by a tractor around the parking lot), Parker in the bucket swing, Parker pushing the stroller because he hated actually riding inside, Parker and his special green blanket, Parker, Parker, Parker.
My heart simply aches when I think about how much I love you. I love that you still ask me to tuck you in at night. I love that you still want to watch movies and shows with me. I love that you include me in your new hobbies (though I am a little nervous about trying airsoft guns). I love that you stop what you're doing to admire your brothers' Lego creations when they bring them to you for approval. I love that you play Minecraft with Maddie. I love that you love being active, riding your bike, playing sports, hunting with dad. I think we lucked out with you, son. I know every parent must feel that way, but I couldn't be more proud of you.
You are nearly as tall as me now. When we hug, you rest your chin on my shoulder. Your voice is deep, except when you giggle (and that's my favorite). Your smile makes your beautiful blue eyes turn into thin, happy crescent moons. You are beautiful, my boy. My man-child.
You had a course this year called pre-athletics. It's a sort of gym class meant for athletes who wish to join the school team next year. It's pretty intense, and the switch from going to school to eLearning (due to the pandemic) did not decreased the intensity of this particular class. You always complete your scheduled workouts, and I've been amazed as I watched your little boy body transform this year. You have muscles! It's so weird!
You haven't just grown physically this year. You continue to mature emotionally. You were identified by your peers as a leader and nominated to be on the middle school Hope Squad next year. You considered the pros and cons and decided that choosing to participate in this organization that helps promote inclusivity and student mental health was well worth the tradeoff of another elective. You are looking forward to participating, and we know you'll be a valuable asset to the team.
You still keep in touch with friends from all over. An unexpected benefit of the quarantine has been more online time with old friends. You miss seeing your Texas friends in person, but you keep up your social life online.
You are still my sweet, tender hearted little boy. You alway look out for the outsider, inviting the "new" kid to sit with you at lunch or play with your friend group at the pool. I can't tell you how many times over the years parents have approached me wanting to express their gratitude that you reached out to their child, often the newcomer to the area. Other parents call or text to say what a "good" kid you are.
That brings me to another area of maturity for you. Spiritually, you've grown so much this year. You are learning to walk the journey of recognizing sin, feeling convicted, repenting, and receiving forgiveness. Moving from forgiveness into joy has always been my struggle, and I see it in you, too. Living in guilt is not what God wants from you. The sacrifice He made was so that you could live a life of freedom and joy. It's ok to embrace that! There is nothing you could do that could ever separate you from His love (or ours). That is good news! Don't let your joy be taken from you, dear boy. Extend yourself the same grace you are so quick to give others.
Parker, I know you are a gift from God. I may have been involved in the physical aspect of bringing you into this world, but you are so much more than my son. You are precious and beloved. We used to butt heads when you were little. We may do it again in the future. That never changed your standing in my heart. Right now, at 13, you are an absolute delight. People shake their heads and smile knowingly when I talk about how great you are or how well we get along. I won't be some Pollyanna and assume our relationship will always be smooth sailing. But for today, for this snapshot in time, I sure am enjoying the ride with you.
I love you so much, teenager! I hope you have an amazing year!
Love,
Momma
There is so much I want to say to you. I have written and rewritten the first line of this post so many times. I began writing this on Memorial Day. Daddy was at breakfast with his cousin who happened to be in town. All you kids were fast asleep, and I was alone with my feelings. And believe you me, this blog post gave me all the feels.
13 years. Where? Where did they go? How did they slip through my fingers like sand?
When I look at you now, I can't help but see that munchkin in the bright yellow rain jacket that was a staple in your Seattle wardrobe when you were a toddler. That time period of your life is etched in my brain. Perhaps it's because that was the time when you had my undivided attention. That was a good and bad thing. I was not a graceful new mom. I had many a meltdowns (see previous blog posts). It was a time of extreme highs and lows. Thankfully, now, the highs take centerstage in my fuzzy memories...Parker on the "train ride" (being pulled by a tractor around the parking lot), Parker in the bucket swing, Parker pushing the stroller because he hated actually riding inside, Parker and his special green blanket, Parker, Parker, Parker.
My heart simply aches when I think about how much I love you. I love that you still ask me to tuck you in at night. I love that you still want to watch movies and shows with me. I love that you include me in your new hobbies (though I am a little nervous about trying airsoft guns). I love that you stop what you're doing to admire your brothers' Lego creations when they bring them to you for approval. I love that you play Minecraft with Maddie. I love that you love being active, riding your bike, playing sports, hunting with dad. I think we lucked out with you, son. I know every parent must feel that way, but I couldn't be more proud of you.
You are nearly as tall as me now. When we hug, you rest your chin on my shoulder. Your voice is deep, except when you giggle (and that's my favorite). Your smile makes your beautiful blue eyes turn into thin, happy crescent moons. You are beautiful, my boy. My man-child.
You had a course this year called pre-athletics. It's a sort of gym class meant for athletes who wish to join the school team next year. It's pretty intense, and the switch from going to school to eLearning (due to the pandemic) did not decreased the intensity of this particular class. You always complete your scheduled workouts, and I've been amazed as I watched your little boy body transform this year. You have muscles! It's so weird!
You haven't just grown physically this year. You continue to mature emotionally. You were identified by your peers as a leader and nominated to be on the middle school Hope Squad next year. You considered the pros and cons and decided that choosing to participate in this organization that helps promote inclusivity and student mental health was well worth the tradeoff of another elective. You are looking forward to participating, and we know you'll be a valuable asset to the team.
You still keep in touch with friends from all over. An unexpected benefit of the quarantine has been more online time with old friends. You miss seeing your Texas friends in person, but you keep up your social life online.
You are still my sweet, tender hearted little boy. You alway look out for the outsider, inviting the "new" kid to sit with you at lunch or play with your friend group at the pool. I can't tell you how many times over the years parents have approached me wanting to express their gratitude that you reached out to their child, often the newcomer to the area. Other parents call or text to say what a "good" kid you are.
That brings me to another area of maturity for you. Spiritually, you've grown so much this year. You are learning to walk the journey of recognizing sin, feeling convicted, repenting, and receiving forgiveness. Moving from forgiveness into joy has always been my struggle, and I see it in you, too. Living in guilt is not what God wants from you. The sacrifice He made was so that you could live a life of freedom and joy. It's ok to embrace that! There is nothing you could do that could ever separate you from His love (or ours). That is good news! Don't let your joy be taken from you, dear boy. Extend yourself the same grace you are so quick to give others.
Parker, I know you are a gift from God. I may have been involved in the physical aspect of bringing you into this world, but you are so much more than my son. You are precious and beloved. We used to butt heads when you were little. We may do it again in the future. That never changed your standing in my heart. Right now, at 13, you are an absolute delight. People shake their heads and smile knowingly when I talk about how great you are or how well we get along. I won't be some Pollyanna and assume our relationship will always be smooth sailing. But for today, for this snapshot in time, I sure am enjoying the ride with you.
I love you so much, teenager! I hope you have an amazing year!
Love,
Momma
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