My Sweet Spot

In my sporadic attendance to my Companions group this spring, I have been learning about the sweet spot. We have been discussing the book, "Longing to Pray" and talking about our friendships and what our relationships tell us about our relationship with God. The sweet spot, is that time in which we set aside for God for prayer, listening, meditation, or conversation. In the interest of full disclosure I will tell you that I do not find my sweet spot every day, nor do I necessarily find it on consecutive tries.
I am most often successful in finding my sweet spot when I am sitting in my special place. Where on earth would a busy mom's special place be? Mine is as simple as my front porch rocker. Oh how quaint. Oh how trite. Oh how southern grandma of me. Oh how like a country song. Oh seriously are you for real? Yes.
I feel the most at peace there in my rocker and I don't go there often without planning to sit there for some time. There is a purposefulness to my rocking. I deliberately go there when the children are asleep, or busy with something else, or at school, or off with their father on an adventure. I like to read there, but mostly I simply be.
I find simply being allows me to experience a full range of emotions about a full range of thoughts. I worry over the children. I take stock of my marriage. I  think about my family. I wonder about my friends. I ponder the possibilities.  I drink in the scenery and never fail to be grateful for the beauty around me in all four seasons. 
Experiencing the four seasons from my rocker is in essence how I channel my inner peace. While peace takes many forms, my inner peace starts with gratitude.  And for me, gratitude starts with a clear picture of something for which I am thankful. I am grateful for our beautiful world. I've been many fabulous places and experienced more wonderful things than most people. I appreciate beauty in a multitude of forms. The view from my front porch however, is where I am most grateful for the beauty of the earth. In the winter time I listen to what the wind has to say to me. In the spring I feel more alive somehow. In the summer I appreciate the heat and humidity pressing around me. In the fall, the air seems cleaner and sharper.
 Once my channeling is underway a welling up from somewhere deep within me inevitably causes the tears to flow. I am so overcome with thankfulness for my life and everything in it. For it takes everything--good, bad, ugly, pretty, simple, complicated, hurtful, or healing--in my life to make it a beautiful life. Here then, is the sweet spot. Now I am open to God. What does he want me to hear? What does he have to say to me? What in my life is really worth bringing to our joint attention? When I'm in my sweet spot, I seem to know what needs talking about. What I need to bring before God isn't always pretty, and is often ugly behavior on my part. But what is ugly about our actions reminds us what we need to do to make our lives beautiful again. So the tears come. And the repentance, and the forgiveness, and the grace to go on making mistakes.
I encourage you to take the time to find your special place. Where is your sweet spot? Where are you the most alive? The most attentive to the sound of silence? Go there and find your inner peace.

For the Beauty of the Earth
By John Rutter
(I'm writing this from memory...summer of 7th grade, Appalachian State University Choral Camp...so forgive me if I miss a word or two. I'm singing the alto line in my head just now trying to remember it all.)
For the beauty of the earth
For the beauty of the skies
For the love which from our birth
over and around us lies
over and around us lies
Lord of all to thee we raise
This our joyful hymn
of praise.
For the beauty of each hour
of the day and of the night
hill and vale
and tree and flower
sun and moon and stars of night
sun and moon and stars of night
Lord of all to thee we raise
This our joyful hymn of praise.
This our joyful hymn, our hymn of praise.

Mother's Day

I am disappointed that I couldn't come up with anything profound to send to my friends this Mother's Day. But I'm not disappointed in how I have spent my day. I enjoyed lunch that I didn't have to make or clean up with the two mothers in my life--my own mother and my mother-in-law. I have spent time reading a new book (my favorite activity). I took a nap. I sat in my rocking chair on the front porch and drank in the beauty of the earth around me (until the bees and pollen sent me inside). Now I am typing while my husband makes dinner and the boys are "helping" him by generally being in the way. Not a bad way to celebrate a day that's all about me, right?
I decided that it was okay for me to do these somewhat selfish things because it gave me time to recharge my battery and refill my love tank. When my boys need me I want to fill the need. When my friends call me, I want to help. When the world needs action, I want to be able to heed the call. I cannot do these things if I am empty and used up. Hence the pause today to refill my cup. I am grateful that I have the opportunity in my life to do so and I am thankful to those around me who provided me with the time off--my husband and my father-in-law who so intuitively understand what I need and when I need it. It's uncanny in a man to find that, and I seem to have two men in my life who get it.
So to my family of friends (and my family members), I say with deep gratitude in my heart, Happy Mother's Day. Thank you for mothering me with your care. Thank you for mothering me with your love. Thank you for supporting me in my journey as a mother and helping me mother those around me. Thank you for the example of mothering you have brought into my life. Thank you to all the mothers who have blazed the trail before me and made my path easier. And to all those who love, shelter, and provide for mothers this day and all days, thank you for your devotion to us.

Abstinence

     I haven't blogged in a long time. It seems I'm going to have to return to my old schedule of actually scheduling time to write, because free time doesn't materialize on its own. I've been kicking this topic around for a long time in my head. I've been afraid to write about this subject, because putting it in print seems more daunting than an earnest conversation among friends on somebody's back porch. But I've been known to put myself out there. So here goes...
     Abstinence is such a no-no word in our culture and I don't know why. It is the single best piece of common sense I can think of to impart to my children. When you talk about abstinence with your children you can't just say, "Don't do it because it's wrong." Abstinence is a life style choice. Abstinence says, "this is who I am, what I stand for, and where my boundaries are." Abstinence is about so much more than "not doing it" (whatever doing "it" is anymore).
     When you teach abstinence you have to explain the concept of self-worth. Believe it or not, as a parent, you've been teaching abstinence your child's entire life. For example, "we don't say shut up in this house." or, "we don't hit our friends." or, "you don't talk to your mother that way." The list goes on. Abstinence, in a broad sense, is refraining from behaviors or actions with which you don't agree, or you find harmful or damaging in some way to yourself and others. For the most part, we as parents don't let our kids do something that could hurt them or their friends do we? (Please note, I do know there are instances where natural consequences come into play--I've told you twenty thousand times not to jump off the fence. I'm not going to tell you anymore and when you break your arm and are out of baseball all summer because you wouldn't listen, you'll learn.)
     I'm going to start with sex/intercourse/doing it/shagging--pick a current phrase. I would like to point out that sex is everywhere. Our culture is bombarded with it on almost every level in every medium every hour of the day and night. Sex is important to talk about because sex is so much more than the actual act of copulation. The advent of technology forces us as parents to be even more vigilant. It isn't just "fast girls" or "bad boys" or "provocative dressing" or "bad reputations"anymore. We have sexting and Facebook and YouTube.  Taking your clothes off for somebody may not be the act of intercourse, but you are well on your way to the murky choppy waters of sexual behavior.  Kids today know six ways to Sunday how to "do stuff that's everything but [intercourse]." That just plain scares the pants off of me. I don't care who you are, how old you are, or how hip you think you are, it should scare you too.
     How many times do we hear things like, "I just wanted him/her to love me." "I just wanted to fit in." "Everybody is doing it." Really? Are you going to jump off a bridge too? When you love another person or another person loves you, it is the essence of that person that is loved, not their body. Sex is an expression of love sanctioned by God for the end result of procreation among consenting adults who are usually married. You can take sex out of the picture and still have love and intimacy. If you take love out of the picture, all you've got is a short term athletic event. You can't make someone love you if you don't first love yourself. Loving yourself is the key to self-worth. This is an incredibly difficult thing for young adults to understand.  I didn't understand for years. It takes practice and work to figure out how to love yourself.
    And for my friends and foes alike who prefer not to put God in the mix when talking about sex, let me offer another explanation. When you love another person or another person loves you, it is the essence of that person that is loved, not their body. Sex is a consensual act between two people who trust each other. Sex is generally seen as an expression of love, but should not be confused with love. Sex is not intimacy. Sex is not proof of identity, or ownership, or relationship.
     For others who still grimace at my definitions, I'll give you another reason abstinence is still the best policy:  Education. Education. Education. The most reliable way to make sure you have a future is to learn a trade, a skill, or find a career path that will enable self sufficiency. Putting yourself at risk of derailing those plans with an unwanted pregnancy (sex), disease (sex or illicit intravenous drugs), or brain injury (drugs, driving under the influence) is an awfully big gamble. When you lose, you lose big. Again, the concept of self-worth arises. Aren't you worth planning a future for? What do you want to do? Where do you want to go? Who could you be if you thought it was really worth trying for?
      Dear readers, please don't think I don't believe in young love. I do actually think love at first sight and high school sweethearts are both real and highly romantic entities. Please don't think I find teenagers to be stupid, vapid, shallow, remorseless, mindless, or just plain dumb. I think teenagers are feisty, creative, independent, curious, interesting, and sometimes quite charming, but also very young, highly inexperienced, prone to impulse, and not well-practiced in self-denial, or patience. Just in case you're wondering, abstinence doesn't apply only to girls--I have two sons. Please don't think I believe pre-marital sex causes life-long damage or leads to a one-way ticket to hell. Not true.
     I was once a teenager. I did go to high school--with boys. I was once a college freshman. There were boys and parties and alcohol and drugs in college. I learned a few lessons the hard way. Sometimes learning the hard way is the only way, but that doesn't mean grown-ups should stop trying to teach the lesson.  If I can make some of those hard choices easier by preaching abstinence to my children early, I'm absolutely going to do it.
     As a young adult, I often said crushing things about my own parents. I thought they were old meanies who didn't want me to have any fun. I thought they didn't understand me. And sometimes, I thought they were more than unreasonable. What I didn't know then, but have appreciated for many years now, is that they gave me the gift of self-worth by helping me keep myself out of trouble. They gave me the gift of a long youth so that I had time to navigate the murky waters of adult behavior. They gave me the gift of boundaries so "just saying no" to impaired driving and experimenting with drugs and staying out of the backseat of cars was an easy choice. They were by no means perfect in this regard, but the message was clear. You don't have to be a hard-ass to make your message clear (although it's probably not a bad idea every now and then). In fact, most experts say flexibility is an unlikely ally here. There are ways to give a little to get a little from your child without compromising your message or the boundaries.
     I was by no means perfect, but I did know what I wanted for myself. I believed that a college education was mine for the taking if I wanted it. I believed that the right guy to love on every level would come along someday, but he would want an intelligent person to talk to when we weren't having sex! I believed that drugs was a bad idea period. I believed driving while impaired was just stupid and that if and when I chose to drink under age, I was going to have to be responsible for the risks I was taking. I believed all those things because I had a sense of self-worth. I believed my life was meaningful and I had something to offer other people. Incidentally, I still believe my life is meaningful. I still believe I have something to offer people. And I still believe that if and when I choose to drink, the alcohol is not responsible for my actions, I am.
    Believing your life is meaningful and that you have something to offer is basically the bottom line when you talk about abstinence.  I don't understand why we aren't preaching these ideas from the front of every middle/high school gymnasium and auditorium in the country. I don't understand how handing out condoms and explaining how birth control pills work to teenagers replaces the idea that keeping your eyes on the prize will keep you out of trouble.
     The accepted lamentation of "well they're just going to do it anyway and we might keep a few unwanted pregnancies from happening" is pathetic. It's a poor excuse. It's a lazy thought process and it's a self-fulfilling prophecy.  We as a culture make a huge mistake and thoroughly under-mind our children's self-worth when we only preach "safer sex." The concept of safe sex implies sex is inherently unsafe. Wow, what a mixed message to send to a child. Let's make sex even harder to figure out. Where is the frank discussion of the emotional toll on your health and well-being? Where is the open dialogue to help our kids navigate their feelings and their fears and their questions? Why is it socially acceptable to talk about safe sex physically but not emotionally?
     Do I support wearing condoms among sexually active people--teenagers or adults? Absolutely. Am I going to give condoms to my teenage son with a "just in case buddy" and walk out of the room? Hell no. Am I going to sit him down at the kitchen table for a long and very uncomfortable talk about the responsibilities of unzipping his jeans? You're damned right. Am I going to tell him that girls will interrupt his college dreams? Yes. Will we talk about birth control and disease? Of course. Am I going to preach against any and all drugs? Every single solitary time. Am I going to enforce the legal drinking age in my home? You betcha. I'm his parent. That's my job. Am I going to be understanding and try my best to help him navigate true loves and false loves and just plain hormones? Yes, yes, yes. Why will I do all this heart-wrenching, gut-busting, terrifying, hard to talk about stuff? Because I believe in his worth as an individual.
     Self-worth is one of the greatest gifts we can instill in our children. We have to plant the seeds during their youth and hope that as they mature into adults, they become masters of their own self-worth. I believe self-worth begins with abstinence. Abstinence is not a dirty word. It's not old-fashioned. It's not frigid, naive, or unhealthy. Abstinence is the freedom to say, "this is where I draw my boundaries" on any activity from sky diving to sexting.  Abstinence is about believing that you, not pop culture, not your friends, not the crowd, choose the who, what, when, where, why, and how of your behavior. Abstinence is about so much more than "not doing it."

A Year Round Advent

Sometimes I wish Advent was year round. The children get so excited. Right now it's all about the stickers on the calendar and who gets to blow out the candles after our meal. But someday I hope they will think about the traditions we have created and find their own excitement during the season.

Christmas day is always lovely, as is the full 12 days after Christmas right through to Epiphany. But once Epiphany has come and gone there is a lull in the calendar until Lent. And while Lent is critically important spiritually, it doesn't have the same panache as Advent. Easter is a beautiful, mysterious, wondrous renewal of faith. But again, once Easter tide has come and gone, it seems forever before Advent returns. I suppose my real searching if I get down to it is where can I find the desire to search and wait and wonder during the rest of the year that I find during Advent and to some extent Lent? Would I be watering down the joy and passion of these two seasons were I to find a way to recreate them year round?

My Companions group's final meeting is tomorrow. We are discussing our rule of life. In researching our rule of life we are to determine the spiritual practices that will provide the most comfort, direction, growth, and meaning in our lives and add them in proportionate doses to our current spiritual lives. Seems like a tall order and it is. However I find myself excited about the potential for a new spiritual practice to help with the breadth and depth of my journey. I have decided to not act quickly--following the advice of our study author, but instead use the rest of Advent to wait for God to show me the way. I'm not much on waiting, nor am I good at it. This in and of itself will be a practice! I hope by the end of Christmastide that an Epiphany will await me and I will find a new direction in which to grow.

A blessed Advent to all of you. Peace be with you.

O Christmas Tree

Sometimes I feel like a Victorian Christmas tree trapped in a Farside cartoon. I am the sentimental female in a house full of males who would rather use the garland for swinging from the ceiling fan than dress the Christmas tree. I am the one working on "a place for every ornament and every ornament in its place" long after the boys are in bed and my husband has moved on to drinking beer on the couch. I can't help myself. There are few things that say Christmas to me with pure unbridled joy and affection than my Christmas tree. As soon as we get the lights on, I turn all the other lights off so I can bathe in the glow of non-LED white and colored lights. I do keep a flashlight nearby in case I need to find a missing hook.
The main reason I love my Christmas tree? The ornaments. And it isn't that I have beautiful ornaments--I do, but it's the stories attached to the ornaments. I spend a couple of hours (yes truly) unwrapping each and every ornament. There are a few that don't make the cut, but I still look at them and remember the story attached to them. My Christmas tree and the memories I relive while decorating it, suspend me in a perfect moment of love and harmony and happiness that I don't experience at any other time through the year.

Here is a list of some of my favorites (if I get technology savvy maybe I can eventually add pictures).
1. My green thumbprint turtle from 1980 that I made in preschool. I don't actually remember making this one, but it has had a prominent place on every tree I've ever had since 1980 so it's worth listing.
2. My green bead wreath I made in primary Sunday School class with Bonnie Whitley.
3. My clothespin Rudolph I made at our first lake house on Badin Lake with my friends in Children's Hour from church. He's missing a google eye now, but otherwise Rudolph is in good health.
4. My Raggedy Anne ornament sewed by our neighbor Meredith in 1980 for me for Christmas.
5. My NC Zoo Ornament with a picture of the first gorilla ever born at the zoo.
6. "Merry Christmas Mar" ornament from my freshman college roommate Mo.
7. My "Christmas GSW 93" ornament made by my friend from Governor's School, Leslie.
8. My "First Christmas" ornament given to me by my sophomore college roommate, Catherine at my wedding.
9. The ornament my students made me from my first school in Chattanooga. Thanks Mrs. Hayes' class at East Side!
10. My SPCC ornament given to us during our inaugural season of the Southern Piedmont Children's Choir.

There are many, many more including the ornaments I have bought for my boys each year. Their baby's first ornaments were purchased with so much love and hope. Every time I watch the boys hang them I go back to that place when I carried them inside me and remember how precious that time was. My mother also finds beautiful ornaments to give them. Each year as we put them away, I pull out a sharpie and label them so there is no argument for the following year! I have ornaments from our vacations--Phoenix, Disney, Steamboat. I have all the ornaments from our first year (1999) as a married couple. Getting married the Saturday after Thanksgiving opens the door for many such gifts. I cherish every one of them too.
This year my boys were old enough to "help." They each have a box of their own ornaments and are allowed to hang them each year with help. This year they just kept going and helped me hang most of the ornaments. It was our first family tree affair, which is special in its own way. My boys kept going "oooooh" and "LOOK!" and "that's funny." But my favorite was, "mom, tell me about this one." I tried not to get choked up, because it was a time of joy and I didn't want to confuse the boys with my tears. My husband is also quite good at sending me off to the kitchen for something when I start getting too uptight about where the ornaments go and why the boys are trying to hang them without hooks and keep dropping them. "You can move them later," he reminds me. Good man.
I was just blowing off steam earlier today about not being in the Christmas spirit. Nothing like our Christmas tree to give me a right change of heart. Bring on the season, I'm ready now. My heart is full of gratefulness and grace. Thank you God for beautiful memories of good times and for my yearly Christmas tree. I have been to my special place and I'm ready to make space for the grace of the season. Peace be among you during the holidays and always.

The "Life-Brary"

My three year old son and I have been visiting the library lately. His older brother has started kindergarten and goes to the school library once a week. This weekly visit made a great impression on my younger son. He is enthralled with the library. He likes going up the big staircase (it's a lot dark and a little spooky) to the children's floor. He likes the child-sized computers with colored keyboards that link him to some very fun games (Sesame Street and the like). He likes finding new Curious George books to check out. He likes the dated displays in the glass cases. He likes climbing on the step stools in the adult section and jumping off of them. He likes taking the hard back books off the shelves he can reach just for fun. I don't know if I'm raising a reader or just a curious tornado of energy.

My favorite thing about the library is that he calls it, the "life-brary". I cannot get him to say library. However, upon reflection, I think the "life-brary" is quite appropriate. I've been going to the library all my life.

I remember with great nostalgia all the wonderful opportunities I had at the Asheboro/Randolph County Public Library growing up. My first piano recital was held there. The children's section was well stocked. The Randolph Room held interesting facts that I used for my fourth grade N.C. History project. I spent two years on the Battle of the Books team reading Newberry Medal Winners and participating in a quiz bowl type program (Incidentally, Farmer Elementary School wiped the floor with the city schools for several years. In fact, I'm not sure we ever lost before the program was cut, but we might have.) I remember going to the library with my mother and sister once a week checking out seven books at a time (the maximum), one for each day. I spent many hours learning to research at the public library back before computers when the magazines had to be checked out and the card catalog was more than a dusty row of boxed cards. How many 3x5 index cards did I go through researching information on great American and British authors for my research papers in middle and high school? After about two years in high school, I graduated to the Randolph Community College Library because they had other research materials I couldn't get at the public library.

Later in my college life, the library became even more than a pit stop for books. I spent many hours copying reserve reading to take elsewhere to read (ditto for graduate school). I spent many nights trolling the study carols for a cute guy from my political science class to ask a stupid yet relevant question in the hopes he might talk to me for five minutes. I learned how to use theInternet at the E.H. Little Library. I even walked to the Georgetown University library from my basement bedroom in a row house in Georgetown to check my email, because I didn't have a computer. It's amazing how many significant (and literary) opportunities I have had at the library.

And after college, the library remained a significant part of my life. I spent many Sunday afternoons and rainy days at the main library in Memphis (back when it was right off of Union behind the Walgreens before moving to its new and beautiful location on Poplar in East Memphis). Then when we moved to Iowa City, one of the first things I did was visit the library and get my library card. I spent many many mornings and afternoons and evenings rolling my older son in the stroller up and down the aisles of popular adult fiction and seven day check out looking for something to read. So of course when we settled in Chattanooga, I went to the library and got my library card right away.

I park in my husband's old office building lot and walk two blocks to Nirvana. Okay, Nirvana is a little strong--the library is unfortunately in serious need of refurbishing, but the book selection remains strong, and the people who work there are quite lovely and helpful. I have yet to leave the library empty handed. Today Wyatt and I left with H.A. Rey's Curious George Rides a Bike, Lois Ehlert's Growing Vegetable Soup, Phillipa Gregory's The Red Queen, Aldous Huxley's, Brave New World, and the first in the Magic Tree House series for big brother. Our front porch swing remains a favorite spot to read besides mommy's bed.

My boys love Barnes and Noble and Books a Million. So do I. And we spend quite a bit of time there too. After all they have a train table, new releases that don't require a hold or a long wait time, and a bakery. But the feeling just isn't the same. The library is an exercise in patience--waiting on that new release or popular author makes the book that much better. And if you don't like a book, you don't feel disappointed that you paid 27.95 for it. In fact, these days I go online and look up all the new releases and make myself a list. Then I go shopping--at the library. When they don't have it "in-stock" I ask to be put on the waiting list. If only everything were so simple.

The library is also an exercise in cherishing and taking care of intellectual property that doesn't belong to us. You start simple, "This isn't our book, you can't draw on the faces with purple crayon." Then you graduate to, "Turn in the book on time or you have to pay a fine (Even though it's only 25 cents a day, it adds up, believe me, I've been late often)." Learning to reference and cite works in your papers correctly is not only required for the assignment, it's the right thing to do. Finding the actual source of quoted information instead of quoting a quote is challenging and also good practice in checking your sources.

So thanks little Wyatt for your innocent insight into a wonderful tradition. The public library really is a "life-brary". I love sharing this special experience with you. I hope that our libraries never become obsolete. In light of the crunch for public funds and the pervasiveness of the Internet, I am going to investigate how to support our public library and start donating (beyond my late fees) because the library has been a part of my life that I have long taken for granted. It would be a real shame to let such a unique institution become extinct. Next time you're downtown, hug your librarian and go check out life at the "life-brary"!

New Beginnings

I can't believe I haven't posted since February. I suppose that shows me how busy my life has been. Either that or my creativity has dried up considerably. I still compose semi-monthly emails to friends and family, but alas I have become enamored of the 501 character posts on Facebook. Call it an exercise in pith--or perhaps an incredible waste of time considering I post sometimes 3 times a day.

So on to new beginnings. A new school year seems like as good a time as any to make new resolutions and goals. My calendar year has always started in August and ended in May. This year is no exception. I now have a kindergartener and a preschooler. Babes no more. Can I get a hallelujah? I haven't yet had that "oh" moment when I realize we're closing a chapter--the pre-3 years are forever gone. So far, I'm okay with that. My three year old (as of yesterday at 12:22pm) is still chubby cheeked and round like little ones are. My six year old still hugs and kisses me as if I've been gone a million years. So I suppose I haven't missed the hanging on and neediness I've grown accustomed to because it hasn't yet gone away. But I am beginning to notice that I've become more of a referee and less of a playmate.

I enjoy the newer types of play--reading real books and stories (chapter books, science books, books about something), playing real games (board games, bigger puzzles, jenga, etc), and watching various and sundry puppet shows, dance-offs, band jams, and the like. I don't enjoy getting playdough out of the carpet, stepping on legos, trying to wash marker out of the comforters on the beds, and stinky shoes.

I suppose there will be new beginnings for me this year too. Grade mom responsibilities, carpool etiquette, flag football mom (baseball mom was kinda scary--I had to pull myself off the dug out chain link fence a time or two), and homework supervisor (kindergarten? you ask--yes apparently there are spelling words, reading assignments, and some math, WOW).

There will be some reruns, but with a different cast. Preschool is old hat by now, but with a new main character. And the baby (which he isn't anymore) is a completely different child. It will be an interesting dynamic to watch. New teachers, new toys, new building, and new friends await us at the old preschool.

To entertain my readers, I've decided to list a few of the statements I've heard lately that remind me of my new phase in life. While I'm still in the trenches of child-rearing, I can no longer complain about baby stuff, because my three year old uses sentences longer than his body and my six year old's vocabulary scares me.

"I'm not a baby, I'm a big boy, look at my legs."

"I'm pretty sure moths are nocturnal creatures."

"Hey wait for me. Don't leave yet."

"Hey mommy, I'm going to take a break from this playing."

"Mom, don't you want to watch me read?"

"Mom, are we going the direction of Northwest or Northeast?"

"Hey I can read that sign."

"Don't you think I'll be big enough once I'm 7 or 8?"

"I not hold your hand. I walk beside you."

"Are you disgusted with me or just mad?"

"Mom, I'm gonna push your buttons."

"Mom, you're my best friend."

Watch out world! Here we come.