Have Fun! Seriously.

Why now?

As we're preparing for the adolescent years, one thought keeps running through my brain: I can't imagine not feeling close to our kids. Right now, it feels like we're all best friends. Granted, this particular arrangement would get creepy eventually. We are raising them to leave us.

Fine print: This is not a promise or
guarantee. Denny & Co may not
be held responsible if it turns out
to be worth less than the paper
it is not printed on. 

But I've heard from empty nesters whose kids call often and those who never do. I can't control that outcome, but I can influence it. I know this, because I can tell what makes us more likely to reach out to our friends and family. I'm going to list some factors here so I can hold myself accountable in 20 years:

1. They show an interest in us - whether it's calling, visiting, or following me on social media.
2. They make an effort to join us where we are, to help in our stage of life.
3. They don't guilt us but give us grace for who we used to be and who we are becoming.
4. We respect one another.
5. We have good shared memories that laid the foundation for continuing affection and common ground.

Older Me will need to implement 1-3, and 4 is critical, but it's 5 that has gotten me thinking. Jen Hatmaker talks about it well in Of Mess and Moxie, but otherwise I hear very few discussions about prioritizing family FUN. I'm not talking about magazine-cover fun (I'm looking at you, bucket listers). I'm talking about creating a culture in my home today where humor is safe and laughter is chosen more often than impatience. Where we play regularly enough that we'll all remember the fun in 20, 30, 40 years. Where we often enjoy the present and expect a bright future.

When my Dad turned 65, I tried writing a list of the reasons he was The Best Dad in the World. It was shockingly easy. It was also the first time I fully appreciated all the ways my dad--who travelled for work every week--had managed to play with me as a kid: from "Where's Carolyn?" to letting me "style" his hair to bringing home a purple-sequined "Daddy's Little Girl" shirt to singing Blessed Assurance with me before bed night after night, year after year.

And that really got me thinking about how my parents' playfulness and positivity influenced more than just how much we call them today; it influenced the way I see the world and even the way I see God.

If that's true, why don't we play more? Good question! See Part 2.