Well. . . he WAS home!

On Saturday afternoon, my first-born son returned home from his week-long mission trip with the church youth group. Their work in the inner city of Cincinnati (Price Hill area) was very well received, and appreciated by the missionaries they were helping support.

What did he bring home with him?

Two loads of laundry
One unwashed sleeping bag (needs to be washed badly)
One camera card with lots of pictures from the Creation Museum
A questionable (bordering on obnoxious) attitude due to lack of sleep

We assume that there will eventually be stories about the trip -- and the children they played with -- and the ride to and from Cincinnati.

But for now. . .for us. . . we got attitude.

I am coming to grips with the fact that my son has entered his full-blown teenage years. With these years come hormonal outbursts, odd or obnoxious odors, sullen words, mumbled answers to simple questions, and many blank stares.

I get frustrated. I would be lying if I said anything otherwise.
I get discouraged.
I get flat-out angry.

I get the idea that this is karma.

Upon discussing this recent "activity" with my parents has uncovered this strange, oft-forgotten truth: I was the same way at age 14.

So, I guess I'm getting what I deserve. But when it's happening, I don't believe I deserve it. Surely I wasn't this bad.

And I'm right. I wasn't this bad.
I was worse.

By the time I was his age. . .

I had tried smoking -- don't worry, I was too wimpy to actually inhale cigarette smoke.
I had my first boyfriend -- not serious, but I had experienced a broken heart.
I learned, at his age, one of my friends had lost her virginity. (that was devastating)

I know these are things he hasn't yet dealt with. . . but I know they are coming. I hope that Mark and I have solid, sure answers to give Edison when these situations/questions arise. I'm fairly certain we will.

But until that time, I'm doing my best to remember that he's in a phase and it won't last forever. I'm reminding myself that -- when he's 31 and dealing with his own adult issues -- I'll be thankful that we've moved beyond these troublesome times. I'm comforting myself with the knowledge that other parents have gone through these times -- and come out seemingly unscathed.

And most of all, I'm remembering that deep down, inside the rough (sometimes vacant) exterior he's giving us -- there's a precious, tender heart that beats wildly with love for his little sister.

Who, by the way? Thinks the world of him. Don't believe me? Check it out. . .



And, as the title says. . . he was home for about 28 hours, and repacked his suitcases and left for football camp. This camp, however, is taking place here -- at his school. He's staying in the dorm, with one of his friends--and is "bonding" with the rest of the high school football team. That's right. . .I said high school football team.

We can go watch him practice -- and we probably will, if the weather isn't too dreadful. And, to my delight -- he'll be home on Friday afternoon. . . I miss him. I really, really do. Caroline misses him more. Believe me.



. . . maybe football camp will work out some of those attitude issues. You think?