Adventuretime

It's 5:30 a.m., and I've been waiting for the past hour for my son to text me from Turkey. (That's a sentence I never thought I'd write.) It seems that despite my best efforts to prepare him for his European adventure, I dropped the ball on activating his debit card for international travel. So, now I'm sitting in this quiet room, starting at my black iPhone screen, and imagining him destitute and hungry on his travels.

{Text me, Seth.}

This trip has been well over a year in the making. When Seth first heard about it during his seventh grade year, he asked if he could go. As luck would have it, that trip filled up with eighth graders, which gave us a year to prepare. Seth has worked hard in that year to save enough money to pay for half of his way, and between his job at Tim's office and the help of his generous grandparents, he did so.

So, on Monday we took him to the airport to head off on a European adventure that both his dad and I envy. First stop: Istanbul, Turkey. Then on to Germany, Austria, Italy, and Switzerland. He was ready for his trip. Calm, cool, and collected...quite the opposite from his mother. It was incredible to watch him say his goodbyes and leave for this journey with such steady nerves and confidence.

His small group of 11 students and three chaperones will be gone 16 days. In that time, I can only imagine what sights he will see, what foods he will try, what people he will meet, and what experiences he will brave. And I can only wait eagerly to hear all about his adventures upon his return. And oh, how I cannot wait!

* I did solve the debit card difficulty, and Seth has been using it today at the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul, so all is well.

Hello Summer! Goodbye School!

Today is a significant day in the lives of the Tucker boys. Reed finishes fifth grade, completing his elementary years, and Seth finishes eighth grade, completing middle school. It feels like a substantial milestone for both of them, with a new experience waiting for each of them in the fall.

Reed has enjoyed a tremendous school year, excelling in his classwork, and he has been busy (and kept me busy) with his extracurriculars. He crossed over from Cub Scout to Boy Scout, which was a big accomplishment. He began playing percussion in the fifth grade band. And he continues to pursue both soccer and tennis.

Seth enjoyed his final middle school year, just as he had the two prior. We're so deeply thankful that these years have been filled with the incredible teachers of CAK Middle. Seth continues to play trumpet in the band, both marching and concert bands. He also began his first job this year, working two afternoons a week at Tim's company.

Aside from all of these accomplishments, both boys hit growth spurts this year and challenged me to keep them in uniform pants that were long enough. Seth, in fact, passed me up in height, and he is coming very close to passing up his dad. He already passed him in shoe size!

As we clean out our desks and lockers today and look forward to lazy days and adventures this summer, we give thanks for the school year we've completed and each of those teachers who have encouraged, instructed, and guided our boys. We've been blessed, and we are grateful.

Hearing the Music

Last night Tim posed the question, "How do I express my individuality?" He's part of a men's group, trudging through a fairly hefty workbook, and sometimes questions like this will bump into a dead end in his brain. He'll turn the question to me, hoping my response will kick start his own. (It often does.)

As I reasoned through the various things that I believe express my individuality, I realized that it would be easier to answer the reverse question, "How do I suppress my individuality?" This moment was an epiphany for me. Mostly because it has not always been true.

I spent a lot of my youth (as most youth do) wanting desperately to fit in. Then, somewhere in college, that shifted to a quest to discover who I was. Finally, out of nearly two decades of marriage and a dozen years of parenting, I have been stripped of pretense (most of it) so that the real me is exposed. (Who has the energy to maintain pretense in the midst of marriage and parenting?!)

As an observer of my own children, I realize that they ARE. They are who they are, and they always have been. Seth entered this world with a laid-back posture, kind demeanor, quiet soul, merciful spirit, and keen intelligence. Reed arrived with an energy and spirit, wit and creativity, spunk and sass very different than his brother. And as they have grown, these traits have continued.

It's my delight to nurture and protect these traits in them...this individuality...and to build them up when others want to tear them down (be like us, look like us, act like us...). It's fascinating to think of someday launching two adults who know who they are, whose they are, and what they have to offer this world.

As for me, I no longer apologize for my spunk and sass (wonder where Reed gets it), I cherish my creative bent, and I am grateful for those God has sent who cherish me and don't want to change me.

Sweet Summertime

For the past eleven years, I have been blessed to be a stay-at-home mom. This gift is never sweeter than the summer months when my boys are home from school. Our days are leisurely, long, and lazy...what else should a summer day be? Seth and Reed's favorite days are those we've labeled "pajama days," and they are exactly that. They lounge in their pjs all day, with nothing but free time stretching ahead of them. Bliss.

I confess that sometimes I tap into my inner child and leave on my pjs too. It feels luxurious to enjoy drawstring pants, a sloppy tank top, and a disheveled ponytail all day long. We curl up on the couch and watch back-to-back episodes of "Chopped," our latest television treat, evaluating each of the chefs and imagining what eclectic ingredients would be in our "mystery baskets."

These sweet summer days won't last forever. It dawned on me recently that we only have four summers left with Seth after this one passes. And most likely during some of those summer days he will be experiencing his first taste of the working world. This awareness makes me savor these days all the more.

For boys curled in their beds with sunshine coloring their flawless skin. For the sight of them playing side-by-side. For the sound of them chatting it up. And for the desire they have to still cuddle up with mama on the couch. It is a gift that I do not take forgranted.

A Teenager? Impossible!

How can it be?!

Today this sweet smile is 13 years old.

This golden heart belongs to a teenager.

While the world wants to fill our hearts with dread

for these teen years,

Your dad and I look ahead with nothing but hope and joy.

You will be what you have always been...

Kind, compassionate, tender and loving.

God made you that way, He will protect you,

and He will establish you.

We are blessed and honored to be witnesses

to your life.

Happy 13th birthday, Seth!!!

Fiery Field Day

The Burnett Bulldogs were fired up for fourth grade field day! Though they didn't take home the trophy, they showed plenty of spirit as they chanted up and down the halls, "Who let the dogs out?! Whoo, Whoo-Whoo!" Proud of our own bulldog and the spirit and hard work he showed on field day and each day of his fourth grade year.

Double Digits

Ten years ago the sun shone brighter...

The sky was bluer...

We all smiled wider...

We welcomed a true wonder.

Happy 10th birthday Reed!

You are sunshine, blue skies, smiles, and a wonder,

and WE LOVE YOU!

Chef Seth

Our family stands on a precipice, and from all we've heard the journey ahead will be daunting...we will soon have a TEENAGER. Cue scary music.

Now, maybe I'm just optimistic, but I don't buy it. It seems that in every new phase we've entered with our boys, I've remarked at least one time to Tim, "I wish I could freeze time. This is my favorite age." In my deep heart, I feel I will utter these words again about my teenage sons.

As Seth sits just six weeks shy of his 13th birthday, I can say it continues to be a delight to watch him bloom. Yes, we already have inexplicable mood swings and sullen states that are difficult to endure, but let's be honest...my family puts up with the same from me from time to time (and my teen years are oh-so-far behind me).

Among his interests is a new desire to cook. He has certain favorite dishes that he wants to learn how to prepare. So, this past Saturday, he tackled his second recipe (enchiladas being the first): Cashew Nut Chicken. Can I just say, "Yum!"? Seth wasn't too pleased because our recipe was the Chinese version and not the spicier Thai version he'd hoped for. So, we're back to the cookbooks to modify it for his second try.

As a mom, I couldn't be more thrilled to watch Seth grow...even into a teenager. I thought there would be sadness as he grows up and needs me less; however, I am learning that he doesn't need me less, just differently, and that whether we sit snuggled in a rocking chair or stand shoulder-to-shoulder over a steaming skillet, we share a precious bond that may change but will never break.

(Bitter)sweet

When Seth was a baby, we lived in an older house in Birmingham with beautiful hardwood floors. There was a time when the only way I could get him to bed was to rock him until he was completely and totally asleep and then tip-toe to his crib to lay him gingerly down. We would rock, I would sing, and finally when his eyelids closed, I would count to 25. Then, I would hold my breath and begin the short journey from the rocker to the crib. It seemed more often than not I would step on one of those old floorboards and "creak..." His eyes would spring open, and I would return to the rocker to begin the process all over again.

Once we moved to Knoxville, he moved into a "big boy" bed. And bedtime meant lengthy snuggles until he fell asleep. When we made the transition from crib to twin bed, we told Seth that it was "just like" his crib, and he needed to call for one of us before getting out of bed in the morning. Being the obedient child that he is, he followed this rule...until he was nearly nine.

As a parent, in those moments, I felt like these routines would continue forever. I really couldn't imagine a night when I didn't have to rock him or snuggle with him until he fell asleep. Then, I wondered if he would call me from his college dorm room to ask permission to get out of his bed each morning. Yet, as I sit here remembering, I can't recall the exact moment these routines ended. More often it seems like I'm jolted awake, and I realize that something is different.

Tonight is one of those moments. I sit typing in a quiet house with Reed sleeping in one bedroom and Seth sleeping in another. It's official: they no longer share a bedroom. Ever since Reed graduated to his "big boy" bed six years ago they have been roommates, but this summer Seth acknowledged he'd like his own room. So, after dragging it out as long as I could, yesterday Tim and I spent the day moving Seth out of "their" room and into "his" room. Thankfully the boys were at my mother-in-law's, so I could work -- tireless and tearless.

While my head logically knows this move across the hall is no big deal, my heart feels it is significant. It's like when you bring home your second child, your first child instantly seems so much bigger, so much older. Just walking into Seth's room tonight I was caught off guard by his long body curled up with book-in-hand. It seems I have been jolted awake to discover that my toddler is now nearly a teenager.

I am going to miss, probably more than anyone, the sight of them in their bunk beds and the sound of them chatting it up long after the lights go out. But to make the transition easier (for who?) I put walkie-talkies on their nightstands. Tonight before I could walk from Reed's room to Seth's room to tuck him in, I heard his walkie-talkie beep. "Good night," came Reed's voice. "Good night," Seth replied. Smile.

After eleven years of motherhood I am finally learning how fleeting all of it is, from the little things (diapers, bottles, naptimes) to the big things (snuggling in the bed, reading to them, holding hands in public), and I am learning to cherish it all. I want to breathe them in, soak them up, and marvel at this great gift I have been given to parent them. So, tonight as I dry these tears and turn off the laptop, it is to two bedrooms I will visit before I tuck myself in. Mental note: January 2, 2011 - the start of a new routine.

Celebrating Seth

Eleven years ago we included this picture on a birth announcement letting the world know that Timothy Seth Tucker had arrived. Now, he stands to his mom's shoulders and proclaims that he will stand 6' tall before long (watch out, Dad!). Seth is a rich blessing in our lives, and it is a delight to watch him grow in all ways. We couldn't be prouder. Happy birthday, Seth!

Bull's Eye B-day

Reed's birthday celebration continued with his first-ever sleepover. He invited his two buddies Isaac and Harrison over for the night, and they had a great time having a Nerf war and an Xbox tournament - all supervised by Seth.

I proved there's nothing a mother won't do for her son when I sat through their movie pick: "Furry Vengence." One word: Torture. But they loved it - animal antics, frequent "skunk" attacks, and a man trapped in a port-a-potty - the perfect ingredients for an 8-year-old boy's movie.

On Saturday morning we gave Reed his final b-day present: a compound bow. Here are pictures from our first target practice. You'll see that even Dad had to get in on the action:

Birthday Boy

Yesterday Reed turned 8 years old! Wow, I can't believe how quickly he is growing up. This year he changed in so many ways physically: taller, lankier, and toothier. And talk about personality!

He also grew in many other ways that surprise us, amuse us, and amaze us. He has been such a blessing this year as a son, a brother, and a student. His teacher shares how his frequent hugs brighten her days. He has always shone brightly as the sun in our life, and we see how he now casts that light in the lives of others.

Here are some more photos of our fun day celebrating his birthday in the Smoky Mountains. A five-mile bike ride (one of his new favorite hobbies) in Townsend, followed by ice cream and presents, and dinner and cake at the Olive Garden. Happy birthday, Reed!

Father-Son Challenge

When Tim heard that Doe River Gorge's Father-Son Challenge featured guest speaker Steve Saint, he decided that he and Seth had to attend. Just this winter, Tim watched "The End of the Spear" and the documentary "Beyond the Gates of Splendor," about Jim Elliot, Nate Saint (Steve's father), and the other American missionaries killed in 1956 by the Waodani people in Ecuador. So, earlier this month he and Seth, along with friend Andre and son Eric, went to the Gorge for this phenomenal weekend retreat.

All of the guys were blown away by Steve Saint - he was incredibly engaging, an amazing storyteller, and a inspiring missionary/visionary. He not only spoke each evening, but he interacted with the fathers and sons all weekend long.

Tim and Seth also enjoyed crafting their own spears, giving paintball a try, and pairing up for a late-night game of DragonSlayers. They came back spilling stories from their weekend, so excited about what they'd heard and done.

If you ever have the chance to go to an event at Doe River Gorge, we urge you to attend. They do an excellent job! And if you ever have the opportunity to hear Steve Saint speak, we encourage you to go. (If you're not familiar with Steve Saint, then check out his books Walking His Trail and End of the Spear).

Desperately Sleepy Susan

We're going on sick day #4 in the Tucker house. Poor little Reed has been ill with a virus/flu since Saturday night. So, he and I have been sleeping in the guest room. Hmmm, "sleeping" doesn't seem the right choice of words, as we've done little of that. It's been reminscent of the boys' newborn days, when sleep deprivation rocked my world. I forgot how brutal it was.

Here are a few things I've realized during these long days/short nights...

1. I enjoy sleep, and I need it...desperately. I am not one of those persons who can get by on a few hours of shut-eye, and a power nap does nothing to recharge my batteries. I relish a solid eight hours a night, and a nap needs to stretch toward an hour to do me any good. A sleepless night stretches on much longer than the ticking clock shows. Thankfully insomnia has never been my companion.

2. I have a thing for Stash tea. I enjoy a big mug of hot tea every morning and actually several times throughout the day. In fact, my tea drinking has replaced my former Diet Coke habit. Everytime I'm at the grocery, I peruse the tea and usually purchase one or two new ones to try. I've learned that I do not like the flavor of Earl Grey (not even Lady Earl Grey), and I am not a fan of any tea by Good Earth (they all have a strong licorice flavor). My favorite, as I mentioned, is Stash - particularly their Double Spice Chai and their decaf Chocolate-Hazelnut. Yum!

3. One can watch a LOT of Phineas and Ferb, SpongeBob, and iCarly without growing tired of them. You don't have to be a seven-year-old boy to be entertained by Doofensmirtz's (not-so-)evil schemes, Bikini Bottom humor, and Spencer's antics. However, when the broadcast turns to Bakugon and Ben 10, you've lost me. I guess you do have to be a seven-year-old boy to get it, or I reached my quota during the Pokemon years.

4. Advertisers are already hard at work promoting their toys, games, movies, et.al. for the upcoming (15 weeks away!) Christmas season. It's really amazing to notice the number of commercials so obviously geared toward holiday wish lists. Even Reed has uttered the phrase I long NOT to hear: "I want that..."

5. A child can live on Jell-o, Gatorade, and Chicken 'n Stars soup alone. Poor little Reed has lost his appetite this week. Unfortunately I think I found it. Being housebound isn't good for my diet, that's for sure. And not even last night's episode of The Biggest Loser could inspire me to get out of the kitchen and get on the treadmill today.

6. A well-timed phone call from a friend can sometimes be just what the doctor ordered. Sometimes it's the sound of the garage door opening, letting me know that Tim's home early from work. Last night it was a solo trip to Target and a leisurely stroll through the aisles. I never know how the blessing will come, but it always seems to come right on time.

Most of all, I've realized our amazing fortune in having two healthy sons. It's not often that one of them is sick, and I'm so thankful that Reed is on the mend. I am hopeful for a good night tonight, some sweet rest, and a snugglebuggle who snoozes the hours away. Tomorrow I hope to see his usual bright eyes and wide smile greet me in the morning. I've missed them!

XC Xcitement

Yesterday Seth ran in his first cross country meet with nearly 500 other elementary students from the area. It was a beautiful sight to see all of those eager kids line up on the soccer field of Victor Ashe Park and wait for the starting gun to fire. To watch them take off, running with abandon toward the trail, and to stand with the crowd of parents and grandparents yelling and cheering as they crossed the finish line a mile later was a thrill.

I have to admit: I don't know who was more nervous - Seth, his dad, or me. Cross country was one of those activities that Tim and I "encouraged" Seth to try (i.e. signed him up for without a choice), and this was the first race of the season. With only one training race under his belt (a run with Tim on Monday morning), we were unsure how he would handle the one-mile run ahead of him. Tim's hope was 12 minutes. My hope was that he would be able to run the entire mile.

Unfortuntely Tim had to dash off himself to take Reed to Wolf Scouts, so he couldn't wait with me at the finish line. But, I gathered with mass of anxious adults waiting and watching for a familiar face to emerge from the trees and charge toward the finish line.

I confess, it was one of those "mother" moments when I saw Seth come into view. My heart moved from my chest to my throat. My brain was telling me "Scream for him. Cheer!" but I knew if I opened my mouth the tears would explode and my strained-with-emotion voice would expose me. Finally, I gained enough control to yell, "Way to go, Seth!" as he pounded toward the finish line. A huge grin stretched across his red, sweaty face.

His time? 9 minutes, 48 seconds.

After the race, the question became who was more proud? Seth was beaming. Tim was amazed. And I was overcome. To watch this child, who I have known and loved every second of his life, grow into such a courageous, capable, determined boy blows me away. I can't imagine how he will surprise me next, but whatever it is, he'll find me by his side, swollen with pride, and cheering wildly. Way to go, Seth!!!

Back-to-School Blues

You know how some people dread the holidays? That's how I feel about mid-August, when it's time to buy new school supplies, wash the uniforms, ready the backpacks, and set the alarm. I don't want summer break to end.

I love these long, leisurely weeks. Our schedule is relaxed, the boys are home, smiles are abundant, and a spirit of peace and rest permeates our home. One of the simple delights of summer is the morning routine that unfolds.

This year it went something like this: Tim, ready for work, walks down the stairs. Cue Seth. He creaks down the ladder from his top bunk and pads down the stairs after his dad. Muffled conversation from downstairs, followed by "I love you" and the front door closing. Silence. I smile and sigh, and then fall back to sleep. Next, either I wake and go downstairs to greet Seth or I'm awakened by my favorite alarm, "Mom... ." Reed, our late sleeper, waits for me to come and greets me with bright-eyes and a smile.

It's a simple thing, really, so it's surprising that it generates so much sadness when I realize that it's almost over. But I will miss my early riser, so eager to see Dad off to work, and my sleepy head, who still wants me to come get him in the morning. Next Wednesday, they will become bleary-eyed school boys telling their dad to "be quiet!" as he wakes them early with a loud and cheery song.

As I type, Seth is downstairs watching cartoons while Reed still snoozes away. It's nearly 10 a.m. and I'm okay with it. In three days, there will be uniforms to don, homework to do, and schedules to keep. I'm going to enjoy the quiet of this moment for as long as I can.

Sensational Seven

Reed celebrated his 7th birthday in high style this weekend, with a party with pals on Friday afternoon, lunch at Olive Garden on Saturday, and then the long-awaited gift opening. Aunt Beth and Uncle Barry win the "Favorite Gift" award, with the giant Tweety bird. MiMi and BaBa were in the running, however, with Reed's new swimsuit ensemble that he refused to take off for the rest of the day. Notice the sunburst/lava-like design chosen by Reed. He's one stylish individual, that's for sure! It was a great birthday celebrating a great kid!

Reed celebrated with his first-grade classmates from CAK, his neighborhood friends, and his pals Eric and Maya.

Reed remembered Olive Garden's birthday cake, so he chose to dine there. He was quite chatty with the waitress and handled the "birthday song" attention better than his mom ever has.

Gifts are exciting for both brothers, as they knew they'll share in the fun of whatever lies beneath the wrapping. This year, along with Tweety, was Mario Cart for Wii and Pokemon Platinum for the DS - we haven't seen them since.

Celebration

Once upon a time there was a fair-haired little boy who grew into a handsome prince. The king and queen watched as his heart grew strong, his spirit swelled with passion, and his eyes danced with life. With each passing day, they knew he was growing into the king he would someday be and that on that day he would rule and reign well. They rejoiced in the knowledge that his presence brings joy, hope, and life to others. And they rested in the faith that his life brings joy to the King of kings.

Happy 7th birthday Prince Reed. We love you!

(Self-portrait, April 25, 2009)

Fathered By God

Last night Tim and I traveled with friends to Christ Community Church in Franklin to hear John Eldredge speak. His talk was based on his book Fathered by God, which explores the stages of the masculine journey. As the parents of two sons, we have been greatly impacted by John's writing in this area: first, his book Wild at Heart, and then, The Way of the Wild Heart (newly re-released as Fathered by God).

The stages, as outlined in his talk/book, are boyhood (ages 0-12), cowboy (ages 13-19), warrior (age 19-...), lover (age 19-...), king (age 40+), and sage (age 55+). Each stage is vital to a man, but most often a man's needs in one or more stages go unmet. Even though he will move on to the next stage, he is greatly affected by this lack of initiation.

The good news is that as unfinished men (and women), we have a Father who loves us. God will initiate us in the ways that our earthly fathers did not. He offers the answers to our deepest questions, awakens our hearts, heals our broken places, and even provides others to walk with us in our journey.

There is a process to becoming a man, and when we understand it, we can understand much about ourselves, our husbands, and our sons. I encourage you to read any of John's books, but if you are the parent of sons, then please check out Wild at Heart and Fathered by God. I truly believe they will bless you with insight as you raise your sons to be men after God's own heart.

Reed-ism

Apparently Reed doesn't agree with writer and philosopher Eric Hoffer, who said, "A man by himself is in bad company." On Monday, Reed was sitting in the playroom watching a DVD. When I walked through the room, I asked, "Reed, do you need anything?" He answered, "Yes. Privacy."

I halted mid-step and smiled. If I didn't know better, I probably would have wondered if I heard right. But, I knew better. In his six, nearly seven, years, Reed has often caught me off guard by his unexpected and utterly frank responses to my inquiries. An example? A request for a kiss received the declaration, "No, Mom. Your breath smells." (How's that for honesty?)

So, Reed wanted privacy. When I shared this story, someone asked if he takes this after Tim. I thought about it and realized that if Reed has inherited a need for solitude, it has come through both his parents. Both of us are true introverts, who rest and recharge through alone time. Now, I'm not sure that Reed is an introvert - he's much more of a people person than Tim or myself - but I love how he recognized his need for privacy and wasn't afraid to ask for it.

I found many interesting thoughts as I read about this idea of solitude. Blaise Pascal believed that “All men's miseries derive from not being able to sit in a quiet room alone." Thomas Edison mused, "The best thinking has been done in solitude." And Martin Buber wrote that "Solitude is the place of purification." Hmmm ... all good, encouraging ideas for a person such as myself.

I really like Aldous Huxley's belief: "The more powerful and original a mind, the more it will incline towards the religion of solitude." If Huxley is correct, then I believe I'll hear Reed's request for privacy a lot more in the coming years. (Who doesn't believe their child has a "power and original mind"?)

However, I know that if I pressed the issue and asked Reed why he wanted privacy, he'd most likely channel H.G. Wells and offer this utterly frank yet simple reply: "Go away, I'm all right!"