My Son Still Wants to be Spider-man When He Grows Up

So the Wildcat still wants to be Spider-man when he grows up.

He's wanted to be this species of super-hero ever since he was like four.

This hasn't changed.

He still laughs in the face of danger, pretends to sling his web at people or situations that seem to warrent a good web-slinging, (sound effects and all) and insists that any bug bite, bruise or welt is a spider-bite intended to increase his super powers.

(I admit that I may have entertained this thought when undergoing a bone marrow biopsy a couple of years back....my bad)

The only thing that has changed is his age, size and voice.

He's 17, barely fits in his own bed, and when he says "mama, can you sing me 'sunshine'?" as a bedtime song, it sounds exactly the same except that his voice is like way, way lower.  And I can tell that he needs to shave.  

I love how some things never change. 

It's probably good that his 17-year-old Spider-man personality also sees fit to aspiring to be involved with the Senate, Congress, Education, Business, and Government.

Spid-ey characteristics probably would work well with any of these things....just not a BOX to check or MAJOR or MINOR or even a CERTIFICATE when planning a college career.

Perhaps that change is in the works.


But for now, since I haven't seen evidence of spidey-traits being publicly recognized....AND after talking with his sisters, it is clear that I need to talk to him about how pretend-web-slinging is not a good defensive driving technique.

Because not everyone understands and is ready for Spider-man to be driving his sisters to school.

(Or attending college.)


In case you were wondering what Spiderman looks like, here are a few then and now shots:

Christmas 2008

Jr. High Football

Reading Names of WWII Veterans at Memorial Day Services

Spidey with his mama.

And a word about childhood BFFs

It's May 18th.  I don't notice the date right off the bat. 

I notice that it is Sunday.

I'm having my coffee, watching the Food Network and browsing ads. 

But it just feels like something, something, about this date is not right.

Am I forgetting something? 

And then I see the date at the top of the paper. 

May 18, 2014.

It's Marnie's Birthday.  OF COURSE!

Marnie is my childhood "BFF."  Best friends forever. 

Or...as childhood goes, my very first BFF. 

But Marnie.

My very first BFF.  Slumber parties.  Trying to match clothes.  Nick-names.

It all comes back when I think of my very first Best Friend Forever. 

My 1st BFF is one of 4 sisters.  So slumber parties with just her actually looked more like a party with each sister inviting a friend to spend the night.

One of the sisters and her friends would lead "dance parties" when there was absolutely "NO NON-MOVEMENT ALLOWED."  If you had to pee, a witness had to be present to make sure your feet were still moving. 

I remember dancing the night away to Jessie's Girl.  It was a record.  Played over and over. 

"Haunted tours" were led and attended by many a sister-and-friends" in the dark.  We would hang on to a rope and be led around the house and outside the house, in the dark. 

Crushes were not only discussed, but prank called....during a time when there was no blocking your number, and 10 times out of 10, you would have to ask the parent answering the phone to speak with said crush. 

"Do you like 'so-and-so?' she wants to have your children.'"  Some times, some "friends" would not wait for the "crush" to get on the phone.  Parents were horrified.  Thank goodness for no "caller ID."  

My BFF and I really wanted to be blood sisters.  So did some of her sisters and friends.  But we were all afraid of blood and skin-pricking and all of that. 

So we became "fire-sisters." 

As I look back, I wonder how that is better.  A bunch of us standing around and joining our lit matches in "ceremony" does not actually sound safer. 

But so. very. 1980's', with a flair of "Stand by Me" and "The Sandlot." 


My childhood BFF moved away after middle school.  Probably 30 miles away.  Not a lot by today's standards.  You pretty much have to drive 30 miles or 30 minutes to get anywhere you wanna go.  

But during a time when 30 miles meant "long distance," "new school," and

...new BFFs. 

Facebook didn't exist.  Cell phones were actually carried around in their own bags and not a given for most families in Iowa.

30 years ago, 30 miles may as well have been a million.

But today, as I think about what is missing, 30 years feels like yesterday.

And yet I still feel connected.

A bond that was unique to childhood BFFs will always belong to childhood BFFs.  I know that today because I can't drink my coffee and read the paper without wondering...."is something missing?"

I'm thankful today for facebook, the world-wide-web, the community that can be created virtually. 

But I'm also thankful for the times when we were kids.  When every moment could not be captured by the lens of a camera, but only by the lens of the mind. A time that can not be recreated. 

A time when "fire sisters" was not a term relegated to pyromaniacs, but just friends who stood outside a stable wanting to have an official initiation into a club that could never again be recreated. 

A time for me, as mama, hope that my own kids will have with their own childhood BFFs.  Not one that was captured by camera, by status update, or by cellphone.

But a time that can only truly be remembered because of the heart.  

A bond between childhood BFFs. 

Movie-Screen Motherhood & Facebook Statuses

I'm not gonna lie.

If you are stopping by here to read my story, of motherhood, of the writing life, of whatever....I can only assume that you are related to me.

Or that you can relate to me.

And I mean no offense either way. But let's face it...my own story is not one that will make the movie screen.

I used to wish that it would.  That mamas everywhere would be just so interested in my motherhood story that they invite me to come, expenses paid, to visit with their group and want to buy my book.

And not to say that I wouldn't have a story to share in public or a book to sell....but I am a REAL mama.

I have REAL kids.

And our lives, as they are now, are not going to end up on a movie screen or some best-selling story. Not to say that they couldn't.  But that isn't our goal.


Allow me here...to transition this post to facebook statuses....

I have recently been "nominated" on FB to share my favorite bible verse...and why...twice.

So I did.  I picked a new one each time.  Not because I am wishy-washy in this type of thing....but it is honestly hard to pick a favorite bible verse for me.

That is only because I have had seasons of life where one just "fits."

But for the sake of the now and this post...I shared Matthew 25:40:

I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.

And I shared Psalm 107:2a:

Let the redeemed of the Lord say this....

 

Both verses speak to me.  In the same way that God sometimes uses nature to speak to some, or another person to speak to another....I'm not one to judge that sort of thing.

But God speaks to me through "story."

And these two verses remind me to share my story.  (Let the redeemed of the Lord "share their story")  And not in a way that means movie screens and manuscripts.  But for the ONES (whatever you did for "one....")

My story is Motherhood.  And I'm proud of that story.  God gave me this story.  And it isn't an easy one.

But I'm eternally grateful for the storyline. 

I supposed, as a writer, I am trained to look at each storyline differently.  And as a mama...that is the way it is supposed to be.

Each day is a new page to write on.

And each child has their own "book."

It is a privilege to be called to contribute to each page of each child, no matter how insignificant any particular page may appear at first. 

But I am getting to that stage of motherhood where all of those diaper changes, laundry issues, and chicken nugget lunches just feel different.

These are not the movie-screen-things you typically see in the life of "motherhood."

But they are real.

Real. Life.

And it does lead to somewhere.

That's why I love the bible verses I shared, I guess.

Can I rant in italics?

So my calling in life

thus far

to take care

and diaper, feed, raise you

to pray over and for you

to help you to find your own purpose.....

....has been my purpose.

I love my purpose.

But I know that my purpose will never actually

get me farther in the world

as far as profiting from it

in word

money

or byline recognition

(which is where I'm at right now)

.

But that is okay.

Because it doesn't matter to me if I 

"help"

anyone else 

if I cannot use my own storyline to 

be there for my own kids.

And 

to tell my own kids

that if their own 

"lines in a story"

that fill their own blank pages

doesn't sound interesting

Or

if the blank pages 

that are yours to fill

would be anything less that the

STORY

that you want to write

with your life

YOU

ARE

THE 

EDITOR

Storylines may change.

But you

fill the blank pages.

And

I

get to be a character 

in your story.

An honor.

A credit.

But not the storyline for you.....

....

...just me.

I really need to edit this post to make sure that it includes my kids that aren't really my kids.  I know that I am not qualified to be the "mama" character in your own stories.  But I am right there in your stories and I pray for you. I support you in ways that are unseen.  

And I will continue to do that.  

Because you deserve it and I am called to it.

YOU

TOO

are a part of 

my story