Thank God

The kids just returned from a party with other kids from their school.

Usually when kids come home from a party they can't stop talking about all the fun. I called Justin when it was getting late to ask where they were (some of my anal not-the-mom behavior prompts me to do these things) and he said "pleeeaaase tell us that we have to come home. I'm having the worst night of my life." So I said "you have to come home now".

Then, Tif, a freshmen this year, being the first in the door said "I really looked up to some of those people, seniors, but I'm so disappointed."

Apparently these chaperoned kids were behaving in less than modest ways.

Thank God He has helped Katie raise her kids to know better and be disgusted by inappropriate dress and behavior. They aren't perfect, but considering the situations other teens end up in, Justin and Tif have good heads on their shoulders. God is watching over them, and growing them.

We'll always be praying they make right choices, and so far, most of the time they do. It is surreal to raise kids, and in my case help to raise another's, and then let them go off and be themselves. On one hand you are scared to death...scared because he's a young driver, scared because you can't watch every move they make and be there to protect them, scared because you KNOW what it is like to be young and face the temptations of kids, especially these days...oh the kind of trouble kids can find. Then, on the other hand, you must let go...little by little they gain their independence. You have to trust them, but all you can do is trust that they are kids and will make mistakes! You pray they won't be big ones! You have to trust that God is protecting them when you can't. You have done all you know to do to train them in the way they should go. You feel good at the same time because of your influence, your kids are able to go into the world, albeit still with boundaries set by a parent, but they are learning. They are able to go out, be successful in their endeavors, and make one proud.

I'm having one of those "not-the-mom" proud moments.