When Do I Get to Say "STOP!?!"

So. . . our children are growing up. In my opinion? Way too fast.

Caroline has made the transition to the "big girl bed" extremely smoothly. In fact, too smoothly, in my opinion. I'm waiting for that other shoe to fall, if you know what I mean.

I have stayed up late the last two nights, I believe, in anticipation of some sort of middle-of-the-night-meltdown. . . and it's never occurred. In fact, last night, Mark went in to check on her at about midnight, and according to him, she hadn't moved since laying down at 8.

Hmm. (another word for "sigh")

Edison, on the other hand, has given us a bit of drama this weekend. It's of the humorous sort, and of course, his first question was, "Mom, you're gonna blog about this, right?"

I would NEVER want to let my child down. So, here goes. . .

Sometime on Saturday evening, Edison's cell phone rang. This isn't really any big surprise, as you see, his friends call him. One particular friend usually calls him around 7 a.m. to remind Edison, (or "Eddie" as he's known outside the house) of something tragically important.

Oh, you want an example? Okay -- Harrison called last week to remind Eddie to wear a camouflage shirt on "color" day of Spirit week. Yeah, my son's class chose WHITE or CAMO for their "color of the day" for the 8th grade. We're living large, folks. LARGE.

So, for Edison to get a phone call, I wasn't that shocked. But, he came out of his room, phone in hand, saying "I think you have the wrong number. You must have the wrong number." He hangs up. Come out sheepishly, like we're going to get mad at him, and hands me his phone.

It rings again. I answer.

A giggling girl on the other end asks for "Eddie." As soon as I say, "Just a minute . . ." sheepish-boy figures out who's on the phone, immediately turns 18 shades of red (not WHITE or CAMO) and takes the phone into his room.

He emerges 4-5 minutes later, and admits that he did in fact know who had called before. He just didn't realize she had his number. (Thanks, Cody) He then tells us that the girl-who-will-not-be-named-here is a freshman and she's. . . get ready for this. . . a cheerleader.

That's right. Hussy town, here we come!

So. . . . (sneered in my most sarcastic drawl). . . suddenly we're on that train.

Cut to Sunday afternoon...we're having lunch with friends who have moved away, and surprised us with their "baby bump" (Erin's due in January!!). We had lunch at one of our favorite places -- Copper Cellar/Cumberland Grill. (The crab bisque is to DIE for!) And, while at lunch, Edison hears a phone (no Dr. Seuss reference here) and at first thinks it's my phone.

It's not. It's his. Guess who was calling?

That's right. . .(again with the sarcasm). . . she missed him. And his hugs (I've been told). He didn't take the call. But, I have since learned that he called her back after we got home from lunch.

So, now it's Sunday night. Our small group (extremely small this week) has just broken up. Mark has gone outside to retrieve our kid and our van from the youth minister who borrowed it to take kids to an Area-Wide Youth Rally. Edison bursts into the house. . . saying something like, "Tim really embarrassed me." (Tim is our Youth Minister--it's his JOB)

Why?

Well, while they were talking with Mark and a couple sponsors in our driveway, Edison's phone rang.

That's right. "She" missed him. . .and wanted to say "hi!"

I just laughed.

Yesterday, Edison didn't have school. Columbus Day, you know. That, or his school was observing Canadian Thanksgiving Day. (I believe it was the Columbus Day thing)

Anyway, he stayed home. Caroline had school. I went to work.

I agreed to bring lunch home for him -- Dollar Double Cheeseburgers at McDonald's. A teenage boy's best friend when they're hungry. While we ate our burgers, he admitted that his phone had rung a couple of times during the morning. Okay. . .here comes Mama Bear.

I assured him that I wasn't upset. But, I reminded him that unless she's a Sprint user, all of her calls are costing him (US) money. Buddy Walk nearly sent us over our allotted minutes for this month, and I was NOT going to let this high school cheerleader hussy cost me money. At least, not yet anyway.

He said that he'd told her that email was probably the best way to communicate. Of course, the way his email is structured, Mark or I have to approve anyone that wants to email him. So, she's not "cleared" our approval yet. (Bwaaa haa haa)

We talked a little bit about what Mark and I expect of him when dealing with girls. Absolute unwavering respect. Honesty. Gentleness. Sensitivity. And, I realized that the respect and honesty parts might be challenges for him--but the gentleness and sensitivity is most likely what attracted this girl, and future girls to him. Edison is his dad. Mark is a gentle, sensitive person.

In other words, this is just Round 1.

I assured Edison that I was not mad at him, or at her. And, that I expect him to always treat her in a Christ-like manner. . .including being totally forthright, if he doesn't return her feelings. He promised me that he would do that, and I went back to work.

So. . . cut to last night, while I'm washing dishes. I hear Edison on the phone -- let me emphasize that we NEVER hear his phone ring, but that's irrelevant -- and I hear him saying over and over, "We're just friends. We're just friends. No, we're just friends."

And suddenly the light goes off. . . .her friend was on the phone, trying to get to the real issue. Does he like "Girl-not-yet-named?"

So, he came in the kitchen and helped me dry dishes without being asked. And, suddenly, we're talking (again) about relationships, and girls.

I did my best to reassure him that sometimes girls go overboard. (sometimes?) I told him that the attention that he'd been giving her -- even though his intention was merely friendship -- might have been mis-interpreted as something more. And, I cautioned him that this was one of those situations where his integrity and honesty had to be at its best.

He assured me it was. And, I believe him. He really is a good kid. He's got a pure heart -- most of the time. And, I know this is not one of those situations where he's intentionally trying to hurt someone.

Then, the inevitable. The phone rings again.

It's the girl. She's embarrassed. She apologizes for so many phone calls. She apologizes for a situation that she cannot explain. She winds up crying. I hear from his room, "You're not an idiot. It's fine."

Grateful that we purchased him a double bed, I go into his room, and we talk when the phone conversation is over. We wind up laughing, a lot. I say "I can't explain it, Edison. It's just the way girls are," many, many times. And, we laugh some more. Before the evening is over, he and Mark do a bit of "sparring" before they go to bed.

I think he'll be allright.

Her? Well, she's not my problem.