When you are
36 46, married for 24 years, have two teenagers and a “tween”…Friday night has a whole new meaning.
At this very moment, The Man, Philip and a Friend or Two of the kids are in the living room watching Live Free or Die Hard. Okay, I admit that the ORIGINAL Die Hard is a Family Christmas Classic for our family that we watch every year at Christmas Time. Don’t ask me why…we just do. And then I make them all sit down and watch The Bishop’s Wife with me. After about 15 minutes into the movie each year, I look up and I am alone. Which is secretly okay with me, but it’s the joy of the pain I cause them by just have to suffer through the first 15 minutes.
Oops. ADD kicking in.
Friday night. So, the floor is rumbling from the surround sound intensity (which is also the name of Lucy’s club volleyball team this season…Intensity)
more ADD in the living room below me. I’ve been stretched out on our bed with the flipper(s) in hand, nursing a wicked migraine and even wickeder PMS aches and pain. Lucy…and this is the heart of my post…is out.
I know that we need to loosen the umbilical cord. And we are. I just don’t like it. At all. She’s with a group of friends. I know and like them. The two boys tagging along are “just friends” and I’m okay with that. To a point, of course. And the boys are driving tonight (two cars…about 6 kids).
But Lord, please just watch over all of them.
My heart is racing. I won’t sleep. I know, know, know that You are in control. I know You are. But I have a mother’s heart. I can’t help myself. I worry. I try not to fret. But I worry. And pray. A lot.
I don’t like letting her go out. I know I have to. I trust her. I do. It’s the OTHER kids I don’t trust and never will.
So I sit at home on Friday night. Waiting another hour (please go by quickly) until I hear the door burst open and hear her sweet voice lovin’ on Sam and Murphy and calling for Tux.
Hear her clump up the stairs singing some song a momma knows nothing about. Calling out, “I’m home!” as if she didn’t just wake up the entire neighborhood. Lights going on, doors opening and closing until it dawns on her that maybe, just maybe, someone is trying to sleep and I hear her giggle and then burst out laughing as she tells herself she really needs to keep it down.
This letting-go-a-bit thing really sucks.
4 thoughts on “It’s Friday Night.”
She sounds darling. 🙂>(((HUGS))) to the loving mama! That must be so hard; at this point I can only imagine.
Susan,>You captured the Friday nights to a “T”. Actually, any night that the teens are out. I just pray over and over “I trust YOU LORD” until He quiets my heart. But I don’t sleep until I hear the door open!>God bless,>Kathy
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