What I Hope I've Taught My Children

As parents, we hope our children never stop learning from us.  As Avery's and Noah's mom, I often panic, putting things in a time frame, "Oh no, I only have five more years before Noah leaves for college, how am I going to fit everything I still need to teach him into that?"  Only five more years.....

Every so often I will actually ask them what they've learned from me so far.  What have I taught you?  What will be my legacy?  What will you remember from me?  I want to make sure I'm 'doing right' by my children.  I want to leave a legacy of love, a full life well lived, good examples they will carry on with their own families.

My brain works fast and won't stop, so I thought I would try to write down some of the things I want them to remember.  Some day I will share some of my blog posts with them, maybe have them printed in books for them--and this will be among their stories.

My Dear Boys,
*Remember to make eye contact.  It lets people know you are listening, it shows respect, and it shows the person, and what he is saying, is important to you.

*Use your manners, even when others aren't--especially when others aren't. Yes maaam, no maam, thank you, please, you're welcome.  Hold doors open for others, and when you do, wish them a good day.  When paying at a cash register, ordering food, interacting with others, don't multi-task.  Put your phone down and give the other person the respect and time they deserve.

*Love your brother.  When Daddy and I are gone, you two are all you will have.  Choose each other, love each other, talk daily.  Have family vacations together, and spend time together.  Family is important.

*Build friendships that will last.  Have plenty of best friends, and acquaintances.  Treat your friends like family, love them, spend time with them.

*Go to church.  Remember to thank God for all He has given you.  Remember everything He has done for our family.  Follow His examples as daddies to your children, and as husbands to your wives. Follow His advice, His ways, His instructions in life, and you can't go wrong.

*Stay clean.  Wash your clothes, yourself, keep a clean home.  Keep your mind as clean as your body.

*Revere, cherish and honor your family.  When you marry, marry your best friend.  Find someone who loves you just as you are, who makes you laugh, holds your hand, walks with Christ, shares your values and morals.  Raise your children with love and laughter.  Remember they are children, and forgive them always.  They need you, and you need them.  Your family will complete you.

*Find your passion, and follow it.  Do what you love, and love what you do.  Make sure you are happy.  You will need an identity outside of being dad, husband, co-worker, but don't allow your passion to be a detriment to your family life.  Family comes first.  Make sure your wife has a chance to pursue an identity outside of motherhood as well.  Together, pursue a life outside of parenthood.  Cultivate your marriage, for one day your children will be grown, and it will just be the two of you again.

*I will always be proud of you.  There is nothing you can do in life to lose my love.  You are my joy, my pride, my passion, my peace, my strength.  You've made me cry, you've made my laugh, you've made me grateful for so very much.  You've taught me so much about parenting, myself, and life in general.  I will always be grateful I got to be your mom.  That said, don't ever take my love for you for granted.  Please don't disappoint me.

*Never stop learning.  You are a student in life, whether you are in school or not.  There is never a point at which you know everything.

*Forgive.  Unforgiveness eats away more at you, it hurts you more than the other person, and it makes you the worse person.  It does not bother the other person.  There are times we must continually forgive the same person for the same thing.  There are things we must accept about some people when we love them.  In the same token, when you've been wrong to someone, ask forgiveness.  And mean it.  Always say you're sorry.

*In accepting things about people we love, don't put up with abuse and toxic people.  You don't need that, and you don't deserve that.

*Be you, and be proud of who you are.  Be true to yourself, your roots, and what your dad and I have taught you morally and ethically.  Don't compromise yourself or your values.  Remember, weird is the new awesome, and your parents made you awesome!  Embrace your unique character, embrace your differences, don't ever try to be anyone else.

*Read.  For knowledge, for fun, for family time.

*Get good grades.  They are not the end all and be all, but they are very important, and will help you get where you need, and want, to be in life.  Study what you want, and do well.  Go to college, go to a trade school, further yourself and your education.  Provide well for your family, always put them first.  Be the best you that you can be so you can put them first.  Whatever you choose to do, be the best at it.

*Cook with your family.  The best magic happens when everyone is working together and laughing in the kitchen.

*Don't forget to be silly, and remember to laugh.  Life is what we make it, so make it fun.  Dance with your wives and daughters, wrestle and sword fight with your sons.  Go for family hikes, go to the park, the pool. Camp in the backyard, and teach your children how to cook over a fire.  If there is a photo booth in the middle of the mall, it's a chance for some good family portraits! Wake your children up for meteor showers and moonlit snowfalls.  Don't forget to make memories.

*My goal with you has to been to be a better parent to you than my parents were to me.  I have always wanted nothing more than to be the mom you deserve to have.  Some days I make it, other days I miss that mark entirely.  I am not perfect, but I'm trying.  Please do the same for your children--I want you to be a better parent than I am, to be the dad your children deserve.  Remember what you've loved about how I've raised you and use that, and remember what wasn't so good, and change that.  Don't repeat unhealthy cycles--your dad and I have worked hard to break cyles, and I hope that's something you remember in raising your own children.

*Compliment your wives and children every day.  End each day on a good note. That will get harder in the teenage years!  :)  Always remember to tell them you love them, read them stories, and make bedtime routines.  Don't go to bed angry.  Don't punish your children, discipline them with love instead.  Teach them, lead them by examples.  Play with your children; be Ken to your daughter's Barbie, be Bumblebee to your son's Optimus.

*Play in the rain.

*Spoil your wives.  Don't just tell them you love them, SHOW them.

*Always have a servant's heart.  Serve others with grace and love.

*Remember there are those who have less than you, emotionally, spiritually, and materially.  Many times those with less than you are those who have more than you, and those with more than you actually have less.  If I've done my job well, you know the difference, and know what I mean by that.

*Don't be a doormat to others who treat you poorly.

*Go on dates with your children, not just your wives.

*Mistakes happen, you're human.  Learn from them, and don't let them happen again.  When you don't, mistakes become habits.  When possible, learn from the mistakes of others so you don't fall into the same traps.

*Respect all life, every life has meaning and value.  Have a sensitive heart.  Help others when you can.  Defend those who can't defend themselves, be the one who stands up for them.  I've raised you both to be world changers, and I want you to remember that.  Be the one who makes a difference.  "To the world you may be one person, but to one person you may be the world"--Dr. Seuss

*There will always be someone who is having a worse day than you, so remember to smile at those you pass by.  You never know how much of a difference that could make to someone.

*Pray. Daily, always, about everything.

*Listen.  Be still, be quiet, and listen.

*Be honest.  Don't lie.  The truth is always the best route, even when it will get you in trouble. Dishonesty will only get you in deeper.

*Be respectable.  In a world where I've taught you not to judge others, you are being judged.  You are being judged on your behaviors, your actions, your words, your manner of dress,  how you treat others--everything you do is up for judgement.  So, be above that.  Ask yourself, "What would Mom say if this got back to her?"

*Don't hold grudges, and settle your differences.  Holding on to bitterness only hurts you.

*When you ask someone about their day, how they are doing, and other 'social niceties'--MEAN IT.  Really mean it.  Be genuine.  Sometimes you have to say, "No, really, how are you REALLY doing?  I want to know because I care."  Most people ask these questions just to start a conversation, and don't really want a true answer, so most people respond with the expected "Fine."  Be the person who cares about hearing more than "fine."

*Attend your children's school, church and extracurricular functions, games, ceremonies, clubs and activities.  Know who your children are friends with, and know their parents. Make sure they know you, and always require phone numbers. Meet your children's teachers, club sponsors, youth leaders, coaches and anyone else who plays a role in their lives.  Make sure they know who you are.

*Raising children is not easy.  It's made easier by having other adults who speak life to your children. Choose those friends and adults wisely.  Make sure they are trustworthy, and worthy of your children.  You need them.  It really does take a village to raise chidlren, and you need that village.  Your children need that village too.

*Trust your instincts.  Sometimes a cute little puppy is really a snake in disguise.  Watch out for the snakes.

*You are your child's only, and best, advocate.  Out of everyone else in their village, only you truly know them best, and have their best interests at heart.

*Be kind.  Everyone is fighting a battle.  

*Not everyone knows how to ask for help, or likes to ask for help, so offer it.

With a Little Help from My Friends

I recently made the decision to change primary care doctors.  There are a variety of reasons for the necessary change, but I won't get into that.

When I mentioned this to a few of my very good friends, they each sat me down, separately, and said, "While you're there...." and talked to me gently about my worsening depression.

If you've ever had to do that for a friend, you know it's not an easy thing to do.  You don't know how your friend is going to react; the conversation could go one of many ways.

The thing was, I knew they were right.  I needed to do something.  It's not fair to my kids or my husband, and it's not healthy for any of us.  I know I have a strong personal history of depressive and anxiety disorders, but I really wanted to just deny this.  If I ignored it, maybe it would just go away on its own.  Depression doesn't necessarily work that way, especially when it's more of a chemical imbalance rather than situational.

I knew I needed to do something.  I did ask my new doctor about medication, and we decided on one to try.  I've had undesirable side effects from these medications before, which have often made things worse, but I'm comfortable with the decision I made, and I think we found one that meets my needs.  I'm glad my friends had that talk with me, and I'm glad I had that talk with my doctor.  I've been on it for a little over a week, and I'm hopeful that it's already working.  Even though I did lose it in church two weeks ago, I'm not crying at the drop of a hat like I was before.  Words like baby, pregnancy, infertility, and so on, still tend to set me off--so obviously we've gotten to the biggest issue at hand. I am hopeful that it will continue to work this well, and even better, in the coming weeks.

If you have a friend or loved one who you suspect is suffering, please speak up.  Do so with love, and speak life.  Please don't condescend, please don't judge.  Be gentle, and offer support.  Many times, we really don't know how to ask for help, or what kind of support we might need though.  We are so overwhelmed just doing daily tasks, that having to decide to ask for help, or what kind to ask for, is even more mind boggling.

I am blessed by these dear women, and so grateful for them.  I am so lucky to have them in my life, and I love them for taking that risk in talking with me.  They spoke with love, and in doing so, offered hope and life.

Reprinted with Permission

To give you a bit of background: The grief ministry I've been involved with for almost 9 years is receiving a new property on which to build, and we had to petition the county zoning board in order to do so.  We are in desperate need of this new home for our ministry, as we are outgrowing our current rental.  I spoke to the zoning board last month, testifying to the necessity of this ministry, as did several other volunteers, board members and staff.  Our petition was carried over to this month, and last week, Shawn and Noah spoke on behalf of our cause, along with several more volunteers.  As a mom, and a wife, I can't think of a time when I've been more proud.  I am overwhelmed with gratitude, love and pride.  Noah did so well; he wrote this by himself (I made a few changes here for privacy concerns), and read it, clearly, while making eye contact with at least 10 complete strangers, and possibly 30 more sitting in the gallery behind him.  I can't tell you how much of a big deal this was for him!  As we left, several people we did not know got up to shake his hand and tell him he did a good job.  As a mom, that is just so meaningful to me!  He was amazing.

*Our ministry did receive the county's approval for our new home!!

Naturally, I did take a photo (and video!): 

Hi, My name is Noah Furr.  I am 13 years old, an upcoming 8^th grader in middle school, where I am an honors student, and I am a lifelong resident of this county.  I volunteered with this grief ministry for a year while I was in 4^th and 5^th grades.

My parents began homeschooling me in 4^th grade when I was diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome.   I started going to the center on Thursdays to help my mom with the Care Café, now known as Coffee and Conversation.  My social skills therapist had me working on building people files at the time, and this was a good place to do so.  An example of a people file is remembering what a person talks about, such as a pet, a child, a spouse, a job, or a life event, and asking about it the next time I see that person.  The purpose of building my people files is so I can carry on conversations, and remember to be courteous of others.  While I volunteered at the center, I worked with Chaplain L, and Miss S, and met people like Miss R and Miss  C.  I helped my mom serve coffee, tea and light snacks, and I also did some office work.

Two years ago my favorite dog, Gretta, died.  She was the best dog ever, and my best friend.  I didn’t know how to handle the grief and the anger I felt, and I wanted to know why this was happening to me.  It was the first time I had experienced real anger, and I even shoved my mom’s cat off the counter, screaming that it should’ve been her instead of my dog.  My parents and counselor helped me with my anger so I could express it in healthy ways, but it was Miss S and her Pet Loss Support Group at the center that really helped me through.  I was able to talk about Gretta and share stories and her pictures with other animal lovers who understood me and what I was going through.   I was able to learn how to mourn Gretta without being angry.

This ministry has played a big role in my life, showing me the way when there appear to be no apparent ways.  These good people helped me and my family through my diagnosis, and helped me be less socially awkward by giving me a safe place to talk, practice my social skills and grieve.

You want to know what I think about this ministry, I think it is a lovely place full of open arms ready to help you through hard times.

Thank you for your time and attention.

Outside Looking In

I love to people watch.  When I'm at the park, the pool, the grocery store, a restaurant--there is always someone, or a group of someones, worth watching.  There are different reasons a particular person or group of people might attract my attention.  Sometimes I wonder what that person's story is, other times I make one up.  I watch behavior, words, clothing, make up, body language, social interaction.  I'm not a very social person myself, so I suppose maybe this is my way of interacting.

Sometimes the person I'm watching is a child. Sometimes that child is interacting with other children, with a parent, or just by him/herself.  I think, as mothers with our own experiences, we are quick to watch the interactions of other parents and children, deciding what we might do differently, recognizing good, hard work as it is, and sometimes--recognizing when something might be a little different.  Something we can identify with, but the parent and child are yet unaware of themselves.

This happened in the park the other day.  It broke my heart to watch a child who, to me, seemed to be quite obviously on the spectrum, and the parent, who was quite oblivious and impatient with it.  Of course, it is also possible she was not so oblivious, and is just impatient. When her child went off by himself, engaged in stimming behaviors, and some other behavior that displeased her, she screamed at him to go play with his friends, begged him to stop, and asked him what is wrong with him.  She was exasperated, impatient and generally annoyed.

It was hard to watch, but truly, I've been there.  I think that was what made it hardest, in all honesty.  I know where she is, or at least, where she might be.  She's trying to figure out what is wrong with her as a mom, what she isn't getting right, and what is wrong with her child.  She may be starting to realize it's not necessarily her parenting skills, and it's not necessarily his listening skills.  She's starting to recognize the differences between her child and other children his age, but she doesn't know what to do with it.  She doesn't have anyone to speak life to her, to guide her, but even if she did, she is not ready to listen.  As I watched her, I could not judge her.  I could empathize, and sympathize, but I could not judge.

I sat on my bench watching Avery--my 'normal' kid--playing, jumping, swinging, yelling, laughing, giggling, while I mulled all of this over.  I know the struggle with Noah was real, and I know my denial hurt us both.  I wondered how many people watched us with the same anguish I was watching this mom with, and I know I would not have listened if someone had spoken to me.  I was not ready to listen, and until I was, I would only turn away from those who tried.  

Hindsight is always 20/20.  And looking in from the outside is always easier than looking in from within.  We all have something we have, or currently struggle with.  Be patient, be kind, be a friend.

My Prayer

I've spent the past week raging against life.  At the most recent doctor's appointment, we discovered part of the root of many of my health issues--or at least, more of the root.  The latest labwork shows I'm in early menopause--not premenopause, but actual, real menopause.  At 37 years old.  Yep.  This is due, in part, because my adrenal glands have quit working.  When that happens, your body starts stealing from other hormones in order to stay upright and keep functioning.

On my way home, I had to pull into a parking lot up the street before I could face my family.  I needed time to scream, yell, cry like a crazy person, and rage on.  I sat in the parking lot with Casting Crowns blasting on the stereo, pounding the steering wheel and screaming at the unfairness of my reality.

I feel screwed over.  That's all the honesty I have to give you.  No wisdom, just honesty.  My sister had child #5 at age 40, but here I am, at 37, realizing just how incredibly miraculous the two boys I do have really are.  Again, it strikes home--no more babies.  It's like a hammer slamming down.  Reality.  Have I mentioned I'm only 37?

My body has been through hell, is still going through hell, and has yet to come back. My body is worn out, my immune system is suppressed, and nothing works the way it should.  Every system in my body has gone in its own haywire direction.  Recovery from this, IF I can do everything the way I'm 'supposed' to, could take up to two years, and that's if my body is in shape enough to have it all reversed.  That's a whole lotta ifs.  I'm angry,  I'm frustrated, I'm upset, I'm just really pissed off.  I cry at the drop of a hat, and I just want to hide.  I feel gipped.  Most days, I don't have the energy to put up a good fight.  In a life in which your own body continually works against you, it's hard to have hope.  I want to feel bitter, I want to be bitter.  I don't want to have to play nice, be nice and move on.

This wasn't my plan.  My plan was for a house full of kids.

I know there is a part of me that continues to hope if I repeat "Having another baby is impossible" enough times, God will rear up and shout "NOTHING IS IMPOSSIBLE FOR ME, CHILD!"  He did that with Avery, and I just, even if I'm lying to myself, need to believe, at least for now, that it can happen again.

This wasn't my plan.  I can't tell you how many times I've said this in the past fourteen years.

Funny how that happens.  This--NONE of this--wasn't my plan, but it obviously is part of His plan.  I'm having one of those "Could you maybe just clue me in a bit, here" weeks.  Is it possible for Him to let me in on His plan?  Even just a hint?

Yesterday I stood in church during praise and worship with tears streaming down my face.  I couldn't stop them. This has become my norm, and I know there is still more to come.  I prayed, "Lord, please let this mess be for Your good."  Please, let something good come out of this.  Not because I'm ready to martyr myself, not because I want to look, act like, be a martyr, but because I need something positive to come out of the negative.

With Avery, God gave me a tremendous testimony.  With the recovery and remission that came with his pregnancy and birth, I found an incredible story to share with others.  I am called to share it with others, to give hope, to share faith and God's promise--THIS, this is what our God can do.

I don't know what this chapter of my journey holds for me as an individual, or us as a family, but I do have to believe it won't be for naught.  I need to believe we will look back on it and think, "Ohhh, I see it now."  I need to continue to believe in the good, and have faith even when I don't like what's happening.

Even in the storm, praise Him.

Depression and Honesty

It's no secret I really struggled through the winter.  Depression and anxiety reared their ugly heads every chance I gave them, and then some.  I know that, for the most part, it's par for the course for me.  It starts settling in around the end of September, and I finally start seeing daylight again by March.  It's a pattern, and I know it's going to happen.

This year, as I looked forward to March, looked forward to coming out of my self imposed hibernation, we were slammed with the infertility news.  I still can't say that without breaking down.  It's been hard for me.  I have isolated myself, closed myself off emotionally, and hidden.  I have kept conversations at a surface level, and stopped the tears each time.  I'm afraid if I open the dam, it will break.

The thing is, when I suffer, so does my family.  And that's not fair to them.

The other thing is, I have really great friends who have also fought this battle, and they aren't afraid to call me on it.

After three little mini-breakdowns (that have become the norm) while I was driving with Avery in the car today, I admitted to a friend (in a text, of course, because saying it out loud is too much)--it might be time to go back on meds.  I hate them, but I know I need them.  My dear friend agreed, saying she has been waiting for an opportune time to talk to me about it, after watching me since this winter.

This is not a weakness.  It is an illness, and not one that I can necessarily help.  It's not something I like, something I asked for, or something I encourage in myself.  It simply is.  There is no sin I have not repented for, this is not a punishment (even when it feels like it), and I have not done anything wrong to deserve this.  I simply need a little extra help, a boost to get back on my feet.

Motherhood as a Ministry

I did not enter into motherhood with grace and ease.  Rather, I entered into it kicking and screaming, completely questioning God's chosen path for me.  Surely He'd made a mistake!  At the time, I knew I was doing it all wrong, but as I watched other mothers of  children Noah's age, I couldn't quite put my finger on what they were doing all right.

I have since eased up on myself.  There are times I still question God's judgement here, but I know now that motherhood was always my path.  I still struggle with it (who doesn't), but I know this is where I'm meant to be at this moment in time.  Motherhood is hard, but I've learned it is not because of what I'm doing wrong, it is simply the nature of the beast. I have learned a multitude of lessons in the past almost 14 years, after all, motherhood is on-the-job-training!

At this point in my parenting life, the benefits are constantly outweighing anything else.  I have learned to relax, I have learned to let go of my quest for perfectionism (okay, so I'm still working on that one), I have learned to correct mistakes and apologize for those mistakes, and, perhaps most importantly, I have learned I am not alone in this.  There are plenty of other moms going through exactly what I am, including the days I don't roll out of bed immediately prepared to 'mom.'  I have built a network of support, and if I am alone, it is because of my own hand.

One other thing I'm learning is that I really do have great kids.  It's humorous to me when people apologize upon finding out I have a teenager--but really, he's a great kid!  Having great kids certainly makes things easier too!

Occasionally I go through a "I haven't done anything with my life" phase, and I think--I should have a  job!  I should go back to school!  I should have a career!  I'm missing out!  l should have a passion!  I should have a purpose!  When will it be MY time, MY turn???

And I realize...  Motherhood isn't about me.  It's about them, my children.  This is their time, their turn--and I need to be home for them.  They need me, and I need them.  I need to know I'm doing everything I can to raise them up, to encourage them, to cheer them on, to teach them to fail, so I can then teach them how to come back from failure.  This IS my career. They ARE my purpose. And I have done a lot with my life--I am raising up to God-praising gentlemen who know they come first in my life, and will know how to do the same for their children.

It is incredible to me how many don't see motherhood as a calling, or a career, or as anything more than herding cats.  With Avery entering kindergarten in the fall, I've already been asked many times if I will get a job.  I reply, "I already have one."  So they ask, "No, a real job." And I reply, "I.  ALREADY.  HAVE.  ONE."  Seriously, Avery entering school does not mean my children will need me any less.  In fact, with Noah entering in the life of teenage-dom, I think he will need me even more!  I need to be available to my kids, and they need to know I'm available to them.

Recently, I was truly convicted in this new mindset of motherhood as a ministry, rather than a battlefield or inconvenience or hassle.  Last fall I resigned from my position where I was volunteering--the only thing at the time that identified me as something other than a mom and a wife--because I realized even that short time I spent in preparation for it each week was taking away from my kids.  I couldn't do both well, I couldn't give time to both my home life and my volunteer job as they deserved.  This week, a dear friend did the same, resigning from a job she loved and was great at; she said to me, "Amy, I have a child starting high school in the fall and life is just too short."  It's true.  Life is just too short to not stop and be the mom my boys need and deserve.  I have only--ONLY--five more years with Noah before he leaves for college!  Avery is two weeks shy of five and I have no idea how or when that happened!

So, here it is--motherhood is my ministry.  And there is nothing easy about being in ministry--but I will tell you this, it's always, ALWAYS, worth it.  When you put your heart and soul into something and see the results--the struggle, and the growth, are worth it.

Now, who's going to remind me of all of this two weeks into summer break when I'm pulling my hair out?!?!?!