School was out for the summer, and my girls were pretty excited about it.
Unfortunately, I was on a crazy tight book deadline and knew I wouldn’t be able to give them my undivided attention for a couple of weeks. As I typed away at my desk in the sunroom, Ally ate peanut butter crackers while watching Barney & Friends, and Abby sat on the floor next to my desk, coloring pictures in her new art book. After typing the last word to the chapter I was working on, I noticed Ab, even closer to my desk now.
“What are you drawing?” I asked my artsy 7-year-old.
“Pictures of our family,” she said, still coloring.
“Can I see it?” I asked in my fun Mommy voice.
Abby nodded and showed me her masterpiece. The picture featured Daddy playing a board game with her and Ally but I wasn’t in the picture.
“That’s very good, Ab,” I encouraged. “But where am I?”
Without missing a beat, she flipped the page and said, “There you are, Mommy.”
She had drawn me sitting at my desk, typing at my computer, all by myself.
That’s when it hit me: That’s how she sees me. I was the disconnected parent, on a different page in her life. I immediately shut down my computer, had a good cry, and promised God and my children that I would get my priorities in order. Thankfully, the girls were only 5 and 7 at the time when I got my wakeup call, so I didn’t waste any more precious summers. Now that my girls are 19 and 21, and Jeff and I are empty nesters, I would give anything for just one more summer with my girls.
Maybe that’s why when fellow author and friend Michelle Cox shared with me her idea of “Just 18 Summers,” I teared up as I heard her heart. Her vision for the “Just 18 Summers” brand came about after a baby dedication at her church. As her pastor finished up, he said to the parents, “Don’t forget–you have just 18 summers. Take time to make some memories.” Those words resonated with Cox. She was at the end of her 18 summers with her youngest son and knew how quickly the time had passed, even though she had made an effort as a family to have fun and make memories with all three of her sons.
While Cox first thought “Just 18 Summers” would just be a gift book, she soon discovered that God had much bigger plans. In April, the novel Just 18 Summers, written by Cox and Rene Gutteridge debuted, and has since won the Class Kudos Fiction Book-of-the-Year Award. It’s the first product of many, as Cox is currently developing an entire brand based on the “Just 18 Summers” concept, including: a screenplay, a complete line of books and products, curriculum for churches and music. In addition, Cox felt compelled to start a parenting blog this past January to encourage parents to make the most of those precious moments with their kiddos, as well as crafts and activities to do with your children so you can make the most of those precious moments.
“It’s a gentle wakeup call to remind parents that God has given us this precious gift, and those children will only be under our roofs for such a short time… Take it from a mama whose sons are all grown now, someday you’d give a million dollars to walk down the hall one more time and tuck your children into bed, to kneel down and pray with them, to hear their footsteps and the sound of their laughter filling the house,” Cox shares.
You don’t have to plan an expensive trip to Disney to make memories with your children, according to Cox. Making play dough in the kitchen or creating a giant checkerboard in the backyard will do the trick.
“These don’t have to be big trips or expensive things,” she says. “Sometimes big memories come from the little moments.”
Let’s make the most of those moments this summer and the rest of the year, as well. Because as Cox reminds us, our children won’t be around forever.
My friend ended her message, saying: “Abby is beautiful inside and out, and such a great role model for my daughter. Thanks for sharing her with us.”
The antenna motor sits on the kitchen counter and can be used to rotate the spokes so that Barbara can fill the various feeders right from the window, without ever having to go outside! 
“One thing they’ve taught me is the wisdom of saving for hard times,” she says. Barbara has noticed that birds often have to work hard to survive. “It makes me feel humble that all of us humans, for the most part, have life pretty easy by comparison. No matter our religious beliefs, we need to be thankful for that.”
Angie looked at me as if I’d lost my ever-loving mind. Still, she must have taken pity on the little girl with pigtails that were too tight and a faint, red Kool-Aid mustache because she answered, “Sure.”
Raegan’s mother, Patsy, must have admired our gutsiness and invited us in one afternoon. We soon discovered that we liked Raegan for way more than her pool. She was a cool kid—who had even won a tiara in a beauty pageant. I was sure it was made of real diamonds.
