Zoom!

And they're off!  My boys started 10th and 11th grades today.

The first day of the 2013-2014 school year and half way through high school for Sam.  Upperclassmen didn't have to be to school until 11:00 am this morning, so they both slept in.

 Sam left home about 9:00 am, in order to meet up with buddies who were planning a back-to-school breakfast.  I dropped him off with little fanfare at his friend's house and he sauntered away with confidence.  Hardly a glance over his shoulder as I hollered, "Have a great first day!" out the window.  This from my boy who cried every day- EVERY STINKIN' DAY!- of Kindergarten and begged me not to leave him there, his little arms wrapped around my leg and those baby blue eyes glistening with tears.  Now he is confident, secure in his 6 foot frame, and ready to face the world on his own.  He turned 17 this summer and reminds me almost daily that he will "be an adult" soon.  Too soon.  He is ready for his Junior year.  A full course load of Honors and AP classes, a part-time job at Trader Joe's after school, and running on the Cross Country team to keep in shape.  My first born all grown up.

Joseph got picked up at 10:30 am by his friend Cooper in his Grand Am.  Coop just got his license and that little red car sweeps frequently down our driveway.  He's the first of Joby's friends to drive and as I watch him whisk my baby away a little piece of my heart goes with them every time.  It's bittersweet with Joseph, he's my second and my last.  Things aren't as big of a deal upfront with him-both because his personality is more reserved and his mama has more confidence this time around.  But, things are also more final with him and tend to stick longer and louder for me.  Away he goes and I linger in wonder and awe at the passing of time, so quickly and soon.  He is ready for his sophomore year.
He is my introspective old soul, my child who has amazing insight into himself and his world.  He
will work hard, play hard, and still change and grow this year.  I just know it.  His guitar and his music will continue to inspire, entertain, soothe, and guide him.  He will use his talent for good, my baby boy.

  

 Godspeed, my sweets boys!  I'm excited about what lies ahead this year and I'll be right here at home waiting to help see you through.     

.

MaleMom

I am the mother of males, a malemom if you will. I applied for the job by marrying
their father at age 30, wanting desperately to hit my route and carry babies through
all kinds of weather; however, I never thought I would only deliver BOYS! When
I was pregnant with Samuel, our oldest, I would have bet a million dollars that he
was a SHE. After all, he was a light load, standard weight, which we had already
addressed as "Sophia". My second pregnancy a year later was so different than my
first that this time it just had to be a girl; our nine-pound bundle of joy, Joseph,
required extra postage and still barely arrived on time.


Since I was a young child, I have dreamed of motherhood. In all of these fantasies, I
saw myself holding little pink-clad babies with ribbons, lace, and patent-leather shoes. I
imagined brushing long, curled hair and shopping for ruffled underpants. I packed away
my doll collection and my grandmother's china for that certain "Miss" whose hope chest I
would one day fill. I figured my own sentimental nature, love of shopping, and fondness
for chocolate could only be passed on to a long-legged girl who looked just like me. She
would be quiet and gentle, playing for hours with her Barbies. What I got instead was
Buzz Lightyear and Woody the Cowboy with beautiful blue/green eyes, mops of curls,
and huge feet!

Call it mother’s intuition or the notion that I was destined to be the mother of girls,
but I couldn't have been more surprised… and delighted. My boys, now ages 12 and 14,
are tender, kind, polite and compassionate. They have more sweetness and sensitivity
than you could ever imagine in anything with testosterone! They nurture their animals,
and younger cousins all with great enthusiasm and joy. Dressing them up in silly clothes,
reading them stories, and lugging them along behind wherever they go. My boys have
always loved to sing and dance, bake and have tea parties. They laugh and daydream,
read and wonder, smile and steal the room. They still cry at the part of the story where
the Little Engine can't and will soon have their hearts broken by little girls who can. Our tea parties now occur before bedtime, after a long day, when they just need to unload their trials and triumphs with one lump or two. What's even better is that Samuel loves to go to the mall with me, and Joseph will do anything for chocolate; but still, THEY ARE BOYS!!

They run like boys, shout like boys, jump, fly, crash, and smash like boys! Mostly this
means that life is a wild, exciting, LOUD, ride and they are in the driver's seat all day
long. This, too, has taken me by surprise. I didn't know that to be a boy meant having
unlimited energy, enormous lung capacity, and the ability to destroy anything within
wingspan or choke hold. When they were toddlers, I wasn't told that demolishing the block or Lego creations was truly as much fun as constructing them. It took me awhile to establish the connection between the crayon marks on the wall and the finished racetrack picture on the paper. As they grew, I realized that in order to have "played" at the park, you had to lap it 4 times in 30 seconds, having jumped, swung, and hung from every piece of equipment along the way. In my girlish upbringing, I missed the part of the story where the wizard turns into a pirate, and saves the annoying princess from the monster-headed dinosaur by violent slaying on fiery planet Crushton, but they don't live happily ever after because he doesn't WANT a kiss! I hadn't been there! I hadn't done that!

On the days that I long for my boys to sit quietly by the fire and play with their dolls, I
remind myself of all that I have instead. I have been given the great gifts of guys. I have
a lifetime of upraised toilet seats, trips to the emergency room, and new "pets" to look
forward to. The crayfish that comes home in the water bottle from nature camp every
year is always a favorite. Instead of frills and furs, I have pants with pockets, high top
sneakers, and boxer shorts to shop for. I may never pack that hope chest, but I'm getting
good at loading and unloading a backpack for Scout Camp. I get sloppy-quick kisses and
sweaty-head hugs, races round the block, and lightening bugs. I'm hoping for rides in
their very first cars and emails from college missing my meals! Best of all, I get to dance
with my sons someday at their weddings, holding them close once again and smiling
through tears.

So, I'll travel this unexpected route through life. I'll carry my load and deliver my
goods. I'll weather all storms and revel in the rainbow that follows. I'll weigh things
periodically and pray for enough postage to get them where they're going. I'll chase away
the scary dogs that might bite and return to sender anything resembling junk. May God
bless the chaos, the volume, the wrestling, the clutter, and mostly my beautiful boys. Oh, and may God bless this MaleMom who has learned to treasure life's little surprises
through rain, sleet, snow, and hail...and lots, and lots of mud!


Stephanie W. Barsness
August 2010

My Brave Face

     I've been contemplating bravery lately and this is what I've realized. When I was a

little girl, I thought I was the most brave when I crossed the street in front of the

neighbor's dog, who terrified me. In my teen years, it was when I could finally have a

conversation with a boy without blushing. As a college student, it was the time I not only

questioned, but argued with a professor.  While a young career woman, it was getting

through the interview and then asking for a pay raise. As a wife, it was saying yes to the

marriage proposal, and as a mother, it is sending my children out into the world without

me.

     But, now in my middle years, with increasing wisdom and maturity, I've come to

realize, that bravery really isn't just about heroic feats, facing adversity, or jumping in

with both feet. It is simply living a life with courage and class. It is taking the first step,

walking the fine line, asking the difficult questions and facing the unknown. I know this

because I've been watching some truly brave women lately and I've learned from them.

They've empowered me to take a closer look at my life and hopefully take some bold

steps of my own.

     My little sister, the mother of two young girls, has gone back to work full time after

many years at home. One thing you must know about her is that she doesn't like change,

it rocks her world! That's not to say she isn't flexible and open-minded, trendy with great

hair. She just needs a long, slow warm-up and sometimes a good kick in the pants! But,

she did it. She picked herself up, started her own consulting business, and got herself

gainfully employed through creativity, initiative, and resolve. She is now fulfilled and

happy in her renewed career and juggles the demands of motherhood with style, to the

envy of us all. She is one of the most original and entertaining moms and throws a

fabulous party on the spur of the moment. My nieces are delightful, quirky, and full of

imagination, firm in the knowledge that their mom will always be there with a kiss,

cupcake, and a really cute outfit!

     My sister-in-law, also the mom of two, returned to school to study dentistry and

endodontics. Nevermind that she already has a master's degree in physical therapy and

takes time out to run a marathon or two every year. She studies endlessly, works out

regularly, nurtures a husband and home, and has more friends on Facebook than most

people I know. She even makes time to check in with me and coach my ongoing efforts at

regular exercise and weight loss. I'm not sure when she sleeps, or how much coffee it

takes, but she has the energy and strength of ten thousand women.

     My favorite neighbor has decided to homeschool three of her children, while

simultaneously nursing elderly in-laws in her home, visiting her own parents regularly,

and building a new house with a toddler underfoot. She is organized, methodical, caring,

and CRAZY! But, she makes it look easy and never asks for help. Oh, she says she

NEEDS help, she just never asks for it, and if you give it to her, she bakes you cookies in

return. She faces the chaos of her life head on with perseverance and good will and is

always the first one to reach out to someone else in need. I don't know how she does it,

but she has the longest days of anyone I know and she still looks 25!

     My close girlfriend leads a life of worry and struggle. She lives with an abusive

husband, and a child with congenital heart disease. She spends her life walking the

tightrope between hurt and pain, calm and contentment. She never knows what each new

day will bring. It might be a harsh word, a broken spirit, or a medical emergency. She is

never quite sure if she or her son will make it. She clings to her deep faith, relies on her

trusted friends, and gives all of herself, all of the time, to survive. She finds happiness,

even joy, in the little things. A pretty sunrise, a good dessert, a funny joke, or a long

walk. And always, always, in the smile on her boy's face when he is running through the

yard or playing in the pool just like everyone else. His laughter is her best music, life's

sweetest song, her only peace.

     My far-away friend finalized her divorce last year after her husband cheated, lied,

stole, and left their family. She raged, questioned, wept and watched him walk out the

door. Then she let the dogs in the house, the dogs HE banned outside, so they could

comfort her children and protect her family from further harm. She is the model of

dignity, patience, and resilience. She teaches her sons kindness and compassion, her

daughter self-respect and forgiveness. She wears the most beautiful smile and sings the

best karaoke. Her light shines from within, an inspiration above all.

     My two best friends from high school have been diagnosed with cancer in the past six

months. One had breast cancer and the other is battling LDL Leukemia. That is two out

of the three of us. That is too close for comfort. One faced her surgery and radiation

treatment with the spirit of a survivor and became just that. She was always positive,

optimistic, hopeful, and she never complained. Not even when the radiation burned her

breast, and fatigue forced her to fall asleep before bedtime, at the beginning of a new

 relationship, with a man with five children under the age of 10, who needed to be tucked

in too.

     The other is still coping with the initial shock of diagnosis. She is tired, scared,

emotionally fragile, and physically bruised. Yet, reminds herself to be "open to the

lessons we can learn along the way". Her 6-wk regimen of steroids has caused weight

gain and irritability, but prompted her to dye her hair "Dr Pepper" red and ask her doctor

if she could still drink wine. Facing her first week of chemotherapy, she laughed through

tears and came up with a code name, so she didn't have to keep saying the "C" word.

Setting up a CaringBridge site was terrifying, yet she did it with humor and grace,

keeping us all informed of her constant questioning, determination, and strength. Her

guestbook entries are all supportive and encouraging, most upbeat and funny, and some,

inappropriate and lewd-a true testament to the spirited woman, whose laughter still rings

the loudest and longest.

     Finally, I must mention my almost-70 yo mother. She called me yesterday with the

news that she had completed a 2200' zipline ride down Whistler Mountain in British

Columbia. She hung 200' above the forest floor and zipped by at 50 -60 mph, sometimes

upside down! This is the same woman who climbed the bridge outside the Sydney Opera

House, rode a motor scooter in the Bahamas, went hot-air ballooning for her 50th

birthday, waterskis most summers, and powerwalks every morning; yet had the worst

panic-attack of her life giving a speech to a roomful of people at a meeting! She is not

only young at heart, she is young in body, mind and spirit.

     So, you see, I'm surrounded by bravery in all its forms. Courage and class despite life's

roadblocks and rollercoasters. These women who get out of bed, put on their brave face,

walk out the door, and meet life head on. They laugh and cry, scream and yell, wince and

whine, beg and pray. Yet they are in their moment, seizing life around every corner,

taking the opportunities as they come. They don't make it look easy, they just make it

look real. This is life, this is IT. It's messy, painful, terrifying, exhausting, overwhelming,

and all we’ve got. I've learned from them that you take it one day at a time and make the

most of it. You rely on your family and friends. You embrace the good stuff. If you make

a bad move, correct it, start over, and try again. You thank God and you go out there and

live it, bravely, as best you can.

Stephanie W. Barsness

September, 2009

Guest post: With brave wings, she flies.

I don't know how many of you regularly read blogs.  It's a fairly new daily practice for me and I love it.  I look forward to "checking in" with the regulars I read every day so I know what's new in their lives or what they have on their minds, or even when they have checked out of blogland and are busy or away.
When that happens, big bloggers (you know, those fantastic writers with a million followers!) invite someone to be a guest on their blog.  They have a guest or ghost blogger post something for them in their absence.  Today, I would like to do the same.  I have decided to share with you a journal post that my friend, Jane wrote for her own Caringbridge site today.  By way of introduction, I will tell you a little bit about Jane, but out of respect for her and her story, I won't say too much.

Jane was my next- door neighbor for 5 years when Greg and I lived in Durham, NC back in the 90's.
Jane and her husband, Andy became so much more than neighbors, however.  They were and are cherished friends.  Jane was the kind of friend whose house you could walk into without knocking,
who rubbed your back (even while you were peeing!) for hours while you were in labor, and who loved and snuggled your babies like they were her own.  Jane also was funny, whip smart, and full of energy all the time.  Everyone did and does love Jane!  Jane was diagnosed with breast cancer last week.  She will have surgery this week followed by treatment to get rid of it or "kick it's ass!", as she says.  She writes beautifully in general about her married life, with two teenage sons, and now living in the mountains of Western NC.  But, her best writing always comes straight from her heart as evidenced here by her journal post on Caringbridge.  Please join me in reading some wise words from Jane.

"I am a wreck today.  The adrenaline is pumping, my stomach is turning, I am cold then hot, I am lightheaded and exhausted.  It is not so much the surgery that scares me, it is the pathology report and the "what ifs" that come after the surgery. My meditation with Deepak gave me peace, but it only lasted about 15 minutes.  Guess I will just do it throughout the day to help center me and bring me back to the present. 

The hospital just called and I have to report there at 6:30 a.m. tomorrow.  Yikes - I am not a morning person, good thing my primal anxiety has me up and raring to go each morning.  I want to get this show on the road, but it is hard when you don't know where the show is going.

A good friend of mine, who has been through her own medical crisis with her husband, told me something very wise the other day.  She told me that people want to help and by asking for their help I am actually giving them a gift.  So, I've started my gift giving!  The church ladies are bringing dinner several nights this week.  Other local friends have lined up to transport Jake to and from choir over the next few weeks.   Jake loves choir so this is a particularly wonderful help for us.

Here's another way everyone can help - complain to me about your job, tell me your children are driving you crazy, rave about a great book you've just read, ask me for advice, tell me a funny story, describe the fabulous dinner you just cooked for your family, complain about traffic or your mother-in-law or your spouse, bitch about the errands you have to run and how behind you are with cleaning the house, ask me to buy something for your child's fund raiser.  After all, your lives are going on - time did not stop when I got diagnosed with breast cancer. 

Life is not all about me.  If everyone just talks to me about cancer I will die of boredom and so will you.   You think I don't want to hear about the mundane things of life, but I do.  I miss the mundane things of life and I want them back. 

So, how are things with you?"

Judging

Fast from judging others; feast on the Christ dwelling in them.

When I reflect on this line from Ward's prayer, I am reminded of Olympia Dukakis as

Clairee in Steel Magnolias saying, "Well, as somebody always said, 'if you can't say anything nice about someone, come sit by me!'"  That pretty much sums it up for me too.  I am amused by making judgements about other people.  Don't get me wrong, I am not a cold, callous, or cruel person by nature.  I just like a good gossip!  This, of course, really is the essence of judgement, though, isn't it?

Deciding to talk about someone else as if you really know who they are, how they live, what they represent, or anything about them beyond how they appear in looks, actions, or words.  I tell my kids all the time to "stop being so judgmental" and then I turn around and catch myself in a conversation that smacks every bit as much of critique of another.  What is it that drives that need to judge?  Insecurity? 

Naivety?  Impulsivity?  

All I know is that it is wrong to try and tell another person's story.  We can't truly know it completely and it is not ours to judge.  We must instead look to the Christ within them.  I think this means finding the spark of sacred in every human being created by God and honoring it.  Oh, what a difficult task that is. Honor the creepy guy in the elevator next to me?  The road rager who just flipped me off in the turn lane?  The crazy lady who walks alone downtown?  What about those I love most?  My husband who, after 20 years of marriage, still doesn't do things the way I would like him to?  My friends, who despite my best efforts don't always take my advice?  My kids who sass and fight and push back around every corner?  HONOR those things?  You've got to be kidding!

The Christ dwelling within us is the still, silent soul of every human being, deserving of love, requiring respect, and yearning for kindness and compassion.  We all want to be considered more purely, for who we are, who we REALLY are.  And we can't know that about someone else until we honor their sacred being.  Look to Christ for example and inspiration, and love, LOVE what you trust is inside each of us.  He showed us how to live like that.  Free of judgment, full of grace, and leading with true consideration of each person as they really are.  Perfectly formed, fully loved, and worthy of acceptance.  For this Lenten season, for today, I will try and remember that.  Christ within.  When we meet next, know that I am trying to see you, love you, and I'm giving your sacred soul a big high five!

Fasting and Feasting

A Prayer for Lent:  Fasting and Feasting by William Arthur Ward

Fast from judging others; feast on the Christ dwelling in them.

Fast from emphasis on differences; feast on the unity of life.

Fast from apparent darkness; feast on the reality of light.

Fast from thoughts of illness; feast on the healing power of God.

Fast from discontent; feast on gratitude.

Fast from anger; feast on patience.

Fast from pessimism; feast on optimism.

Fast from worry; feast on divine order.

Fast from complaining; feast on appreciation.

Fast from negatives; feast on affirmatives.

Fast from unrelenting pressures; feast on unceasing prayer.

Fast from hostility; feast on non-resistance.

Fast from bitterness; feast on forgiveness.

Fast from self-concern; feast on compassion for others.

Fast from discouragement; feast on hope.

Fast from lethargy; feast on enthusiasm.

Fast from thoughts that weaken; feast on promises that inspire.

Fast from shadows of sorrow; feast on the sunlight of serenity.

Fast from idle gossip; feast on purposeful silence.

Fast from problems that overwhelm; feast on prayer that sustains.

I am a Christian.  I was raised Catholic.  I became Episcopalian.  
I have always observed the season of Lent in the liturgical calendar.  For 40 days prior to Easter, I commit to being reflective and penitent.  I keep mindful of the crucifixion of Jesus Christ and His sacrifice of death for the love and forgiveness of us all.  For me, this has always been marked by tradition.


When I was young, my family practiced the typical "giving up something for Lent".   We were supposed to make a personal sacrifice much like Jesus did. We would pick something to do away with during the 40 days of Lent, to remind us of its significance in our lives.  It could be something as simple as chocolate (killer for kids!) or as pious as swearing (tough for teens!).
Of course, as Catholics, we always gave up meat on Fridays too.  For a few years, we tried instead "giving out for Lent" by drawing the name of a family member who you were then required to do something for.  The idea was to again be reminded of sacrificing for the sake of others and noting their importance in your life.  I remember finding little handmade treasures from my sister and my brother refraining from practicing the latest wrestling hold on me during this time.

In college, my roommate Julie and I would go to church together during Lent.  We were glad to have each other as we entered the dining hall on Ash Wednesday sporting the "dust thou shalt return to" prominently on our foreheads, along with a few other faithful friends.  We joked about giving up beer or staying out of the bars altogether during Lent, but never managed to make that happen.  I think we did keep away from a box of Girl Scout cookies that one of our moms sent one year!  Good for us.

The year I was married, Greg and I tried giving up meat altogether for Lent.  We decided to go vegetarian for the Lord.  We made salads, pasta and stir fry for 40 days and then celebrated Easter with the traditional spiral-cut, glazed cheeseburger and rack-of-sirloin.  No chocolate bunnies or jelly beans that year, just threw a pack of beef jerky and a tube of summer sausage in the old baskets!  What were we thinking?!

This year, in honor of Lent, I'm going to reflect and hopefully write about each line of the above prayer by William Arthur Ward.  Being mindful these days is a lot easier than it used to be and it's a lot more satisfying to give up the hustle and bustle of daily life and spend quiet time.  Age gives you that gift.  Quiet reflection. Fasting and Feasting- can't wait to share with you what I learn.  

Letter to my Teenage Self

Dear Stephanie 1981,

Yes, I know your friends call you "Spunky".  That's cute, and I'm glad they recognize that you are happy most of the time.  Making your own happiness is a good life goal.  I'm happy now at age 49 too, in case you were wondering.  I've been happy most of my years and all in all, life's been good.  We've been lucky that way.  Note to self (ha!), let's always be thankful for that.

I have a few things I want to say to you now that I'm older and wiser. I might not know better, but I do know a whole lot more.   So listen carefully, please. It's important for me to set you straight.  You see, I know you are wondering if you are always going to feel the way you do right now.  You know what I'm talking about, right?  That serious case of emotional roller coaster you've got going on. Those higher-than-high and lower-than-low days that make you wonder if you just might be going crazy?!  Well, it doesn't change all that much over the years, I hate to tell you. The track curves differently over time- sometimes more quickly and sometimes more intensely, but it's always bumpy.  So, ride it baby, with your hands in the air! It'll serve you well, I promise. Those peaks and valleys are setting you up for an even wilder ride later and you need to know how to hang on til the end.

Take that best-day-of-my-life feeling you get every time you are hanging out with your friends doing something so crazy fun you are sure it doesn't get any better. You know, Lake Billsby, football and basketball games, cruising Division Street, and parties at Tammie's house?  Next time you are in that moment, just pause a minute and really enjoy it.  The thrill will come again someday but it will be different.  It will be toned down by age and experience. You will get more serious as you get older, more reserved in your joy. You won't catch that feeling of total happiness in the moment.  There will be other things, outside of yourself and your friends, that will weigh you down.  Right now, you don't have that.  It's just you and them and it's priceless. There will be more moments with friends that will bring you joy, but the experience will be more fleeting and your laughter won't be as light or last as long.  So go for it, Spunk, revel in it for as long as you can without breaking curfew.  Oh what the hell, break that curfew once or twice too!  It'll be worth it, I promise.

Now, about those days when you are mad at the world and just can't seem to lighten up.  Those are okay too.  You are going to have lots more of them later, especially after you get married, but let's not even go there right now.  And NO, I'm not going to tell you who you marry!  You have to figure that one out on your own. Hint- tall, dark and handsome.  There, that will keep you up writing in your diary tonight!  Don't forget to lock it.  Gig and Beth read it.  You KNOW they do!
I know Mom and Dad seem like your worst enemies right now.   Every time Mom touches you, you cringe, right?  Dad is the biggest jerk on the planet and they both are unnecessarily strict and nosy.  You can't imagine that you would ever parent the way they do or even care half as much about what your teenager says or does.  WRONG!  You do!  You end up realizing that they did it all out of the most amazing love ever and you will do it exactly the same way.  It's a need that you develop to make your child better than you are.  You want so much for them to be happy and successful that you lose your mind trying to make it so.  You become the annoying, geeky, hovering mom and you end up enjoying the fact that you make your kids ragingly angry most days. It's a sweet sort of revenge.  It's also necessary and you learn that with age.  You will thank them someday.  You will.  No, seriously, YOU WILL.

Those girlfriends that you love so much and want to kill all at the same time?  Yeah, they really piss you off, don't they?  It's that wicked combination of jealousy, competition and lack of self-confidence that will get you at your age.  It gets so much better, I promise.  Those girls become so much more and so much less over time.  You won't care about how much prettier or more popular they are some day.
They will stand by you through things you can't even imagine yet and they will be a constant reminder of your youth.  You will grow up, share your lives, experience similar things, and stand the test of time.
It will be such fun for you to see who they become and how you go through it all together.  You will send them Christmas cards and you will run to the mailbox every December to get theirs in return.  You will love seeing their faces again.  You'll talk on the phone sometimes, send email (huh?!) and get together once and awhile over the years.  Then you will all meet again at your 30th NHS Class Reunion at Grundy's and you will laugh and talk and reminisce, and smile, and hug each other like you had never been apart.  You will even find yourself still calling them those nicknames you have now.  Yes, you will say "Hi, Pooper!" to Paula, even when you see her at her Dad's funeral.  And you will make more good friends, some will even be closer to you than these girls.  Can you imagine?
Friends are the good stuff in life.  You will always cherish and be thankful for them.

Finally, that boy that you are hanging out with.  The one that you say you LOVE?  The one who can make you feel incredible one day and like total crap the next?!  He rocks your world, I know.  You can't imagine that anything will ever mean more to you and he is the most important thing in your life right now.  You suppose that you will go on forever loving and devoting yourself totally to him.  Guess what? This will be one of the biggest life lessons you learn. That being in relationship with someone is the hardest thing you will do in life, but it's worth every bit of the work it takes to see it through. You will discover so much about love, commitment, sharing, and happiness from him. You will also experience so much pain, sadness, anger and disappointment. You will mostly learn invaluable lessons about yourself from your time spent with him. It's all just practice and so necessary.  The really REAL and raw stuff comes later.  You need this warm up time.  Bottom line, what he says or does on any given day, doesn't determine who you are, how happy you can be, or how you choose to live your life.  YOU do all of that.  You always have been and always will be in control of  your own joy and contentment.  You make your way.  You compromise, you appreciate, you fail, and you try again.  You stick with him just long enough to figure it all out for yourself and then your path just keeps getting clearer and clearer.  So learn from him.  Keep your eyes and ears open to what that love teaches you.  It serves you well over time. There is nothing better than a great love in life.  Never gets easier, but it is so sweet.  And you will appreciate it more and more over time.  And no, I'm still not going to tell you who you marry!

So, Spunker, this is your roller coaster ride. It's up and down and back up again!  The highs are so astounding and the lows so unbearable, but it's your one, long ride!  You've still got a ways to go, so keep hanging on and feel the wind in your hair.  Alway, ALWAYS throw those hands up and scream! I'm telling you, regardless of how rough or how thrilling the journey, you're going to live through it.  Your life just keeps on going round and round. Sit right up front and ENJOY it!  I still am.

Oh, and one last thing, please go downstairs and hug your mom.  Tell her you love her.  She will get better and more tolerable over time. Just like you.

Love,
Stephanie 2013