Letter to The Rents

Dear The Rents,

First, thank you so much for trusting me enough to take your children away from you for a couple of days.  I know it is hard to let them go for any length of time.  We all want to keep our charges close to us—safe where the sometimes uncertain world they see can be filtered just a little by us.  It takes an enormous amount of faith to let me have them.  Faith that I will love them as much as you, tend to their safety and happiness as much as you, enjoy them as much as you.  I do.  It is one of the joys in my life, but I very much do.  I might not be able to show it as much as I would like, but your children (even the ones that could not be here this time—Nick, Cameron, Leah, Jaunie, Krissy, and Devan) bring me so much sheer joy.  I shine with it. 

Let me answer your first question:  Lessa, Morgan, Jordan, Abigail and Colleen are fine in body and soul.  They have been on their best behavior saying their “pleases” and “thank you’s” every time.  They are cleaning up after themselves.  They are acting responsibly and politely.  They have cleaned their plates and are not choosing junk food over healthy food all the time.  I’m not blowing sunshine here—they really are doing all of that.  I can see some of you have your disbelieving faces on.  I promise you they are being terrific.  Scouts honor.  Which means they absolutely are listening to you.  They may not be showing this to you when they are with you, but they are learning the lessons you are teaching them.  I just get to reap the rewards. 

Sorry this picture is so blurry.

Currently they are in the living room playing Uno.  They are laughing and joking and just having a grand time over there.  They remind me so much of the times where we get together and play Train or some other game.  We laugh, we get loud, we make fun of each other, we threaten each other, we question the rules, we are unrestrained and completely at our ease.  Wins are rubbed in each others faces and losses are blamed on everyone else.  And, yes, just like us, bodily functions were discussed and it was hilarious.  It’s some kind of magic that they can recreate that warmth so integral to our gatherings between themselves.  Something that they can teach us is to sing campfire songs while they play.  It’s a site/sound extravaganza.  It’s kind of beautiful and terrible all at the same time. 

Dinnertime is another time they remind me of us—including swapping stories and talking over each other.  And laughing and laughing and laughing.  I’m so glad that this part of us will go on after we all leave this earth.  They have learned the most important lesson—when you find special people enjoy your time with them.  Be open with them and let them in.  Most importantly, laugh with them.  It is times like these I know we have done something tremendous. 

Yes, there are some moments that I know each of you would disapprove of.  They have been louder than you want them to be and maybe bent some of the rules that we all live by.  Some of the topics of conversation might not be what you want to hear: “My fart must have gone up because no one can smell it.” said Morgan.  Abby’s response: “Mom’s farts linger.”  And, yes, there have been some moments that have been a little Lord of the Flies.  But, these are easily maneuvered through.  I haven’t spent the last 8 years herding high-schoolers and not learned how to maneuver through some strife!

 

Why is this picture more fun for them to make?

This trip I’m trying to stay off the screen and away from texts and phone calls and be present with them.  I have asked them to do the same so it seems fair to try and live by my own rules.  So, it might seem that I am avoiding your calls, texts and messages, but I’m just trying to show them how to have fun with limited electronics.  Avoiding your calls is just a bonus ;)  I'm quasi-successful with it.  I think this generation is always plugged in and unplugging feels foreign.  I notice they feel more vulnerable when they are disconnected.  I don't know if that's inevitable or not.  We'll all need to think on this, I guess.

I know I need to make arrangements with some of you to return your children back to you.   I don’t like that part of it so I’m doing the ostrich thing.  I’ll get to that tomorrow. 

Again, thank you for letting me have this time with them.  Ultimately, I want them to have these memories of each other for all their lives.  Also, when the youngest is 21, I’ll be the one they will turn to take them to Vegas.  I’m playing the long game here.  Muahahahah!

Who knows, maybe next year I’ll let one of you come with me…maybe.  Or, how about the year after? Or, in two years?  Let’s think on that one for a  while, K?

Love to all,

Amy