Sweet Sixteen

Or is it? I mean, when a boy turns 16, is it a sweet sixteen or something else?

Our second born is sixteen today. It’s hard to believe.

I still remember when he crawled into our bed every night; when he knew every little detail about dinosaurs and Thomas the Tank Engine. I remember that his first book fair purchase in kindergarten was the “Field Guide to the Night Sky” and he read it in bed every night. And he adored his big sister.

Well, he has grown and a lot has changed, but not really. He doesn’t crawl into our bed anymore, and he knows a lot more than just dinosaurs and Thomas. He loves to wax philosophical, or just mathematical, and to debate theology and politics. He enjoys stargazing and would do it a lot more of it if we didn’t live under a forest of trees. And while it isn’t obvious, I think he still adores his big (albeit shorter) sister and is an amazing big brother.

So to our “sweet” 16 year old boy. Happy birthday Samuel Porter! I love you!

Why It's Been 17 Years

On Saturday Chelsea treated me to a manicure. It was the first time in 17 years that I had my nails done by a professional.

And this is why it has been 17 years….

This photo was taken a mere 48 hours after the manicure. Rest assured, one of the chips was there 6 hours after.

No matter how careful I try to be, I smudge, chip and dent my nails.

I used to be able to blame it on being a mom of 3 young kids. You know, diapers, potty training, dishes, toys, house cleaning, car seats, strollers, etc etc. But my kids are now 18, 16 (this week!) and 10. And I did not do any dishes this weekend. Nor did I clean my house. No excuses. It must be the tom-boy in me.

Sigh… I enjoyed the manicure and the look. But it’s just not worth doing it regularly.

I think next time we’ll do a pedicure.

My Dad

My Dad passed away last week after suffering a second stroke. I am so thankful that I was able to be with him in his last few days and at the very end. To thank him for being such a great dad when I was growing up; to tell him that I will never forget how much he loved me; to remind that he has 13 grandkids that he has left a legacy to; and to let him know that we are going to be ok.

My Dad wasn’t anyone famous nor did he have a long list of outstanding accomplishments. But he was my Dad. And I learned a lot from him. He taught me to ride a bike, throw a ball (not like a girl!), ride a motorcycle and drive a car. And he taught me some things just by living his life while I watched. Some things I learned from him because he did them well. Some things I learned from watching his mistakes. That’s the great thing about dads. You can learn from them in the good and bad.

My Dad and me:

Below is what I shared at my Dad’s memorial service.

“We are here to give you a glimpse of who our dad was.

It is easy to list out so many things about Philip McNutt so that you can know more about him. Born on September 23, 1942 in Cushing Oklahoma, raised in Okmulgee and Morris. The only child of John and Jane McNutt, who owned and operated a small drugstore. He became an electrical engineer working in Texas, Saudi Arabia, Arkansas, and eventually this area. He loved Dr. Pepper, Ham radios, Mexican food and his motorcycles.

But these things do not tell who our father was. As we considered the things about our father that we would like to share with you today, a passage of scripture from Galatians, in the New Testament, came to mind.

“But the fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.” Galatians 5:22.

This past week, when we knew my father was in his last days, I asked friends from over the years to share memories of my Dad so that I could remind him of all the people who love him and remember him fondly. I received many stories. Some funny – some touching. But always, without exception, the emails or messages were finished off with comments like this: I will always remember how kind and patient your father was. And what joy he brought with his hearty laugh and his smile.

All of these attributes were apparent in my Dad while I was growing up, but his biggest gift to me was his faithfulness, gentleness and love.

My Dad was faithful: steady, reliable, loyal, trusted. He was a faithful husband. A faithful father. And a faithful friend. While our family lived in Saudi Arabia, my sister and I attended boarding school for our high school years. Both living in the middle east and attending the Stony Brook School were amazing experiences in my life and have shaped me into who I am today. While my sister and I were at Stony Brook, and our parents were in Arabia, my father wrote to each one of us every single week. Without fail, there was a hand-written letter in my mailbox updating me on all that was going on at home.

My Dad was also very gentle. His words were gentle as were his ways. Whether it was in discipline or confrontation or just day to day interaction, he was gentle. His gentleness combined with his humility made it so easy to hold him in high regard. And everywhere he went he was held in high regard. Even as he entered into the remote territories of Arabia to administer bringing electricity to those areas, his gentle ways, and his unique red hair, often meant that he became the honored guest in the Bedouin tents, where they served him endless coffee and tea (neither of which he liked) and always the most desired part of the meal – the goat’s eyeballs.

But what I treasure most from my Dad is the love that he showed me. I never doubted his love for me. His love was most often in deed, whether he was providing for us, guiding us or playing with us. And after I was married, he did all he could to make sure that my husband would love me as a godly husband should. For several years early in our marriage, my Dad took Dave (as well as Robin and Wes) to Promise Keeper events to encourage him as a young husband and father.

I pray that when my children experience these godly qualities in me, they will know they are of God’s spirit, and that I first experienced these qualities through my father. I will forever be grateful to my father for his love, his gentleness and his faithfulness.”

Here are my kids being goofy with Grandpa a few years ago.

Here he is sharing his love of motorcycles with my kids.

I miss him already.

Finding a new normal

We’re finding a new normal in our house. Actually it’s been happening for a few months.

We have an 18 year old living under our roof. A senior in high school. We’re preparing to send her off to college. The applications are done, she has heard from 3 of her 4 choices, and has a couple of scholarship offers. FAFSA is filed and more scholarship essays are underway. We are beginning to attend events or go through annual routines which are “lasts” for her. Spring events are beginning to fill our calendar and we are looking ahead at significant dates in August.

And so this is our new normal. Figuring out what it’s like to let go.

Yesterday we had a brief conversation about her curfew. She ever-so-tenderly lodged an ever-so-gentle complaint about it. We reminded her that her curfew is often about when we would like to go to bed. At least one of us is always up, or at least dozing on the sofa, until she is home. (Go ahead, judge us as overprotective parents… I don’t mind.) She reassured us that she could come home without us being awake. After all, at college she will be on her own, responsible for her own sleeping and waking and much, much more. And we know that.

So we are entering that phase of parenting where we let go and pray like crazy that all the advice, life-skills and wisdom we have poured into her have stuck somewhere in her heart and mind.

Letting go. This is our new normal.

Once we move our first-born into her dorm it will be time to begin the college search for Sam.

Like I said, letting go. It’s our new normal.

Destination: Disney

Our much anticipated trip to Disney is now behind us. It was a crazy-busy three days. (Plus two days of travel time).

And now our kids can honestly answer that they have “been there, done that.”

Over the years I have always heard what a perfect vacation Disney World is. A clean place; family-oriented; something for everyone; and seemingly magical.

Several years ago, my friend, and now boss, Kris Stoner was leading a group of volunteers into a 3-day conference. She gave us all an inspirational talk taken from the leadership of Sam Walton (of Wal-Mart fame). She encouraged us to step into the conference with our eyes open for what was well-done. Not what was wrong or could be done better, but what was well-done.

So as we rode on the monorail into Magic Kingdom (I had last visited 28 years ago) on that first day, I decided to do just that. I had heard about so many things that are done well at Disney. I set out to see the things well-done that would (hopefully) make our experience great and leave us wanting for more.

Here is what I saw and experienced (with a tidy little acronym)

Disney Photo Pass: Whenever we were ready for a family photo we did not need to hunt down the most trustworthy tourist to hand off our camera to and hope they aim and zoom well. We just grabbed a photo pass employee, who took our photo with their camera, and sent the photo to our photo pass account online.

Inspiring: Whether it was the parting words of a guide at an attraction to dream big and live well, the cheerful disposition of employees, or simple quotes from Mr. Walt Disney himself posted around the park, there was always an inspiring message.

Satisfaction of customers was an obvious value at Disney. When one host stopped to talk to us and figured out that Jack was not keen on fast rides, dark rides, or suspense-filled rides, she offered him a chance to win a golden ticket by answering questions from his favorite Disney movie. So after acing the quiz on Pirates of the Caribbean, his prize was ice cream for the family. And when we encountered a bit a frustration with unclear guidelines for child swap combined with fast passes, it was righted and Dave, Chelsea and Jack got a behind the scenes tour of Rockin’ Rollercoaster.

Never were we disappointed in any of the attractions we chose. Whether it was visual appearances, the latest in technology or amazing special effects, we were always entertained and often wowed. (Well, except for the Prince Caspian attraction, but besides that one…) My personal favorite was the Monsters Inc Laugh Floor where animated monsters interacted with the live audience. A.MAZ.ING. and HYSTER.I.CAL.

Employees were all around. In the parking lot, there was never a question about where to park or where to catch the tram. Inside the park, if we had a question we could always spot a host. There was always a custodian in the bathrooms. Many times I saw a manager walking from one place to another with a litter-picker – just in case he spotted some litter. It was not left to just the “street sweepers” to keep things clean. Oh, and the characters. They were everywhere and so patient as family after family and child after child had their photos taken with them.

I think Minnie got a little over-friendly with Dave…

Yes, dreams really can come true. Seriously, what little boy wouldn’t love to face off with the dark side? (I don't think big boys were allowed...)

At a loss.

I'm at a loss for words.

For now you can check out my friend’s blog for a look inside Haiti.

I’m at a loss for words. Not so much at a loss for thoughts but they are all jumbled up in my head and fighting with my heart. I may share more later.

destination: chelsea's choice

Our firstborn is a senior in high school.

A couple of years ago, Dave and I were reflecting on where we are in life. Approaching the years where we send our kids out into the world, one by one. We talked about how we could finish the “at home” part of their lives well.

One of the ideas we settled on was to offer a “senior trip” to the senior. It will be a family trip taken sometime during the senior’s last year at home. Destination: senior’s choice.

So tonight we took the plunge and hit the “purchase” button online. And we leave in exactly two weeks.

Can you guess where we’re going?

Chelsea’s choice: a place she’s never been. Where we fully expect we will all act a bit like children…