Parenting.

Parenting.

Today, I have been shot down twice (that I can recall) by my precious children. Due to my age and impending Alzheimer's I am blessed with a certain level of forgetfulness which proves to be beneficial if I am shot down repeatedly throughout the day by my "little gifts from heaven."

After being shot down, I sat in my favorite reclining chair and began to reflect on the past 23 years of blood, sweat, and tears... a.k.a. "parenting." My personal hero, Michelle Duggar, always comes to mind during these self-counseling sessions as that woman never appears to be completely annoyed at her children. I mean really, WWMD??

As I reflected on "Sister" Duggar, I found myself reaching for a Marlboro Menthol Light 100 in a Box for some comfort until I realized I DO NOT SMOKE ANYMORE. Turning from the carnal to the "un"carnal, I reflected on what the Lord would have me ponder during my moments of annoyance and my mind brought forth the famous Psalm 127....Children are an heritage of the Lord and blessed is he who hath his McQuivey full?

Reaching for my scriptures (instead of a menthol...) I read Psalms 127, "Children are an heritage of the Lord...as arrows are in the hand of a mighty man....happy is the man who hath his quiver full."

Do you find it slightly odd that Solomon compares children to arrows? What the....

I decided to take this scripture further, to determine the meaning Solomon meant to leave behind... or the humor-- as he internally laughed his head off at the comparison he so cleverly made. I performed a dictionary search for the word "arrow." Mirriam-Webster defines the word "arrow" as a "missile." The exact definition is as follows:

ar-row
/'er-(,)o/
A missile (Biblically speaking....human offspring) shot from a bow (womb) usually having a pointed head (hard, thick, skull), and feathers at the butt (?!).

Solomon only had an understanding of the word "arrow" since the word "missile" didn't come into existence until approximately 1656. So basically, according to Solomon, children are missiles, (incoming destruction from the Kingdom of Heaven), and "HAPPY is the man who hath his quiver FULL!"

As I read further I found there are (at least) two types of missiles: cruise missiles and guided missiles. I made the coorelation that children who have internal "terrain (rule) following" radar systems and fly at moderate speed and low altitude are "cruise missiles." Children whose course may be altered during flight (such as by a target seeking radar device a.k.a. parents) are "guided missiles." I consider my children who are over the age of twelve to be "cruise missiles." For the most part, they cruise along doing what they are supposed to and are able to answer in the negative when asked if they have smoked pot, been in a recent fight that was posted on Facebook (on purpose), or been "absent and/or tardy to one or more periods" on any given day.

Children under the age of twelve are "guided missiles." As parents, we are able to serve as "target seeking radar devices" on our "guided missiles" altering their flight course as needed to keep them from eating dog poo, running into oncoming traffic, and from wearing mismatched clothes.

At our house, we have five "cruise missiles," two of which are over the age of 18, and live here rent-free (FYI). We are also the proud parents of one "guided missile."

Last week, Cory and I traveled to Oakland for four days leaving the adult "guided missiles" in charge of the three teenage "guided missiles." When we left, I knew we were almost out of milk and bread. However, there was plenty of other food and I wanted to see if they would go get milk (and pay for it themselves) or go without- it was a TEST.

Upon our return, I went to the fridge to get a glass of milk. The expiration date was TEN days previous. I said to one of my "guided missiles" that the milk was expired, he told me it TASTED FINE and they had been drinking it while we were gone. I was SHOCKED that my kids who won't eat anything that has touched the floor would drink expired milk that was coagulating on the sides of the plastic carton instead of going to Wal-Mart and spending $1.49 on a gallon of fresh milk.

Today, one of my adult "guided missiles" told me I needed to go grocery shopping. I asked "it" what we were out of. "It" stated, "Everything." -- (DUH!) I further inquired what "everything" was. After an eye roll and a sigh (now you know what sex this missile is!), "It" informed me there was nothing that could be eaten "NOW"..... I don't know quite what that means, but "It" obviously didn't approve of the contents of any of our three refrigerators.... "It" told me I should take her (oops!) grocery shopping so I could buy what "we" needed. KA-BOOM. Puzzled and slightly annoyed, I reminded her of her adult status and told her she was welcome to go to the grocery store to contribute anything she liked to the fridge..... That attack left me slighlty puzzled, jarred, and annoyed... but unharmed nonetheless. The next attack, less than thirty minutes later....

My oldest son is pondering taking a job in Idaho for a rancher. I have been working on a research paper about human trafficking and during my studies I have found that every creature on the planet is at some risk of being abducted and made a sex slave in New Jersey, a camel jockey in the Middle East, or a RANCH HAND somewhere on the planet. So, I tell my son I would like the name of the potential employer so I can "Google" him, do some calling around to determine if this would be a safe place for him to work. KA-BOOM! I was informed it was his life, none of my business, and I should stay out of it. Well, he had the nerve to say this as he was looking in my fridge. It was all I could do to not tell him that it was MY FRIDGE AND MAYBE HE SHOULD STAY OUT OF THAT!

My purpose in sharing this with you is so that maybe when your own much loved "missiles" attack, you may understand they are here to try us and even Solomon compared them humorously to a double edged sword. Happy is the (wo)man who hath her quiver full.