That's MY Boy

It's no secret that I like to brag about my kids. I love them, I'm proud of them, and as a SAHM, my world kind of centers around them.  It's pretty obvious as you scroll through my Instagram feed, there's picture after picture of my children.  Sure, there's the occasional animal, pet, scenery or snarky moment photo--but mostly, it's my boys.  I know they are far from perfect, but I think they're the best people ever.  Yes, even on the days they turn my hair gray, cause me to question my sanity, and get on my last frazzled nerve--they are the best people ever.  Even when they are most certainly not the best people ever, they still are.

They seem to take turns being questionable human beings, so thankfully, I'm not always hit with it all at once.  I can usually count on at least one to behave and make my heart swell with maternal pride while the other one(s) are making me wonder whose children they are as I scan our backyard, the grocery store, church or Chik Fil A for their mother...

One of the things that particularly makes me smile--those moments that make my heart full and cause that hitch in my breathing (the one that usually signals joyous tears are about to pour)--is when I see the lessons I'm desperate for my children to learn coming to fruition.  It's often a struggle between what we, the parents, are trying to teach our children, and what society and the schools are teaching them.

We are a Christian family.  There are certain things we know to be true, and other things we know to be false. Our pastor recently finished a message series about what, and how, we need to be teaching our children, raising them up, preparing them to lead and stand up for their beliefs.  We are in a fight for our children: their lives, their hearts, their souls.

All of that came to fruition recently, on Noah's first day of school.

One of Noah's teachers brought up the theory of evolution.  Noah raised his hand ("I said 'Respectfully sir,' so that makes it okay, right, Mom?") and stated that he was not formed from some kind of unidentifiable goop, but he was formed in his mother's womb by his Father, God.

Do you see me jumping with joy?????  He's listening!  He's listening to me, our pastor, his youth group leaders--he's listening!  And he's putting it into practice!!

When the teacher went on to question if anyone else in the class had a religion, Noah again, respectfully, corrected the teacher.  "Sir, it's not about religion.  It's about relationship.  It's my belief, and it's what I know to be true."

Yes, that's MY boy.  That's God's son, and he's one of the best people ever.

Get Over It, Mom!

Avery challenges me.  Daily.  Some days, hourly.  He challenges my patience, my lack of parenting skills, my knowledge and my energy.  He challenges me in my introversion to step outside of my comfort zones as I raise him as God created him.  He challenges me to try things I wouldn't otherwise want to do.  Avery also challenges my faith, and how I practice my faith....  "Mom.  Pastor Greg and Pastor Jon say we have to pray with the voice we sing with.  And you sing REALLY LOUD."  I know without a doubt that God gave me Avery in order to grow me and stretch me!

Recently, Avery has been challenging my fear.

Avery has been desperate to ride the school bus.  I'm not so desperate for him to ride the bus.  He still looks so small to me.  What if he forgets his stop, or isn't paying attention?  What if there's an accident? There are no seat belts, the bus driver has to diligently divide her/his attention between the road and at least 50 kids, and there are all manner of things he will learn on a school bus with older kids that I am not ready to explain to him.  Yes, I'm fearful.  Last year I was able to make the case that he was still in a car seat, and being able to shuttle him to and from school was one of the reasons I stay home.  I explained that those few minutes in the car with just him each morning and afternoon were our time, just for us, no interruptions, no one else to listen in or talk.

Have I mentioned how quick-witted Avery is?  This year he made the case that he's out of the car seat and in a booster (albeit, a high-backed bubble wrapped one), and we're never alone in the car anymore because Ezra is there, too.  Point: Avery.  This year parent pick up is a bit different, as I have to go into the school, which means taking Ezra out and standing in line in the heat, rain, snow and cold, rather than just pulling up to a curb and Avery hopping in.  Yes, it's a bit of a hassle, but it's a hassle I've chosen to deal with.  It's not the hassle Avery wants to deal with.  Yes, a bus might be a little more convenient this year.

We are three days into the school year, and I have heard no fewer than 194859383 times how much he wants to ride a bus. I've told him it is my job to protect him, that's what I get to do as his mom.  He also knows my fear, as I've told him I worry about his safety on a school bus.

"MOM!  You NEED to get over your FEAR!"  Completely exasperated with me, Avery took that chance to remind me that he is God's child first (you know those moments when you hear your own words coming out of your child's mouth and you realize they were actually listening???), God will protect him, and I shouldn't be afraid because "God says we shouldn't."  The mouths of babes.

So, here I am.  Slowly working up the courage to allow my little bird to clip the apron strings just a bit more, and working even more on the urge to not follow the bus as it pulls away with a piece of my heart on board.

I'm working on it kid, I'm working on it.

Back To School

Dearest Children, Preteens, Teenagers and Young Adults,

Soon, you will be heading back to school.  Some of you are excited about your very first day of preschool or kindergarten.  Others are beginning or finishing up high school.  Maybe you are heading off to college.  What you think might be your parents cheering as the bus pulls away, or as you walk away from our cars, is really us trying to put on a brave face and not let you see our tears as we watch you grow up.

Sending you off to school is a bittersweet milestone for us as your parents.  Whether you are homeschooled, public schooled, private schooled, or online schooled, we work towards helping you attain these goals of maturing and succeeding.  Our ultimate goal as your parents is to raise you up just to send you off.  At the same time, there are moments when we just want you to be that small, snuggly child who only wants to be held.  Just one more time.  Please, stop growing.

So, please, I ask you: When we want to walk you to the bus stop, or drive you to school that first morning, please let us.  If we want to take endless photos of you in your first day of school clothes, let us.  If we want to hug and kiss you as you leave the safety of our arms, please let us.  When we take you to meet your teachers and take the time to introduce ourselves, please be patient with us.  When we want to have a conversation with administrators and teachers, when we want to talk about classroom policies, subject content and learning materials, please be patient with us.  Please remember that we are turning you, our life's greatest treasures, over to these strangers, and they must pass muster.   If your parents insist on helping you, the mature, independent college freshman, unpack and decorate your room, if they insist on introducing themselves to everyone on your hall, and want to follow you around campus: please, let them. Yes, even when your mom has a video camera in her hand, and your dad has a camera in his.  We don't mean to embarrass you with any of our actions, we are merely excited for you.  We are expressing our love and excitement in the ways we know how.  This is one of the ways we are interested and involved in your lives.  We are your biggest champions and cheerleaders, and we have such a small amount of time with you before you head off into the world.  We love you, we have raised you to be this successful, mature, independent individual, and now you're off, just like that!

This is your time, and we want the chance to watch you shine.  So, please--let us.

Eating Crow

Before motherhood, and even now, as a mom, I've had many "I'll never"s and "my children will never"s as part of my daily thoughts.  

My children will never act like that!  I'll never feed my little darlings processed character-branded crap!  I'll never park my kids in front of a screen just for five minutes of quiet toilet cleaning by myself!  My kids will never behave that way in public!  I'll never rely on my older children to entertain the younger ones!

I've eaten a lot of crow over the past almost 15 years. A.  Lot.  Of.  Crow.  It's a little chewy, can be bitter, but it's funny to watch the faces of my kids and husband as I gnaw on it.

This summer's biggest crow was "I'll never be the stay at home mom who sends her kid to day camp/care."  Yep, that's exactly what I did.  I found a day camp at a wonderful church up the road and sent Avery there three days a week.

And you know what?  He's loved every bit of it.  He's thrived, he's blossomed, he's grown, he's HAPPY.  Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays have been his favorite days.  As I've mentioned before, while the rest of us in our family are happy to hide in a corner away from the world, Avery is a people person.  He is an extrovert who needs people.  He needs social interaction.  He would've withered this summer here in the house on his own.  He would've died from absolute boredom while Noah was in Jamaica.  Being home with me while I've needed to concentrate on a needy infant would've left him feeling unimportant.  We don't typically take vacations, so these are Avery's summer adventures.  Watching him bound off after a quick kiss each morning, high-fiving his friends and shouting greetings, I knew I made the right decision for him.  Picking him up each afternoon, listening to him talk endlessly about his exciting day and the many activities Pastor B had for them, I knew I made the right decision.  When he begged for one more week of camp after I had decided against it, siting down time before school begins as my reason, I knew I was making the right decision as I wrote out that last check for that final week, caving.  Avery doesn't need down time so much as he needs people and interaction time. 

So, I sent my kid to day camp/care.  I also found countless VBSs for him.  We threw ourselves into the free activities provided by the library.  He's loved it, and I'm quite certain he already knows just about everyone in our new county! We can't go anywhere around here without him waving and calling out to someone he's met through one of these activities!  Avery will have familiar faces at his new school, and hopefully, even a few in his classroom.  

My prayer, years from now, is that Avery will understand that I recognized, and met, his needs.  My prayer is that he will not look back and think, "Mom just wanted to be rid of me."  Instead, I want him to know that I love him enough to give him room, and an environment to grow, where he can be himself.

Some people eat cake.  Me?  I eat crow.  And every now and then, I enjoy it.

Anger

This has been a hard one to write.  I feel very exposed, very raw.  But, it has to come out somehow.  Maybe my words will encourage someone else with this struggle, and perhaps I will also find encouragement.

I was raised with anger and bitterness in my house.  It was a way of life.  Passive aggressive in some ways, and just outright and blatant in others. Apologies were not a way of life, unless you were the one on the receiving end and desperate to smooth things over.  I declared long ago that I would not raise my own children this way.  My children will not know anger the way I did.

But, I'm an angry person.  And I hate it.  It makes me.... Angry.  I do not want to be this way.  I do not want my children raised with this in their lives, and I do not want this to be the example I'm setting for them.  When they do see anger in me, I want them to see me handling it in a healthy manner.  Unfortunately, this has not been the case.  I do not want to be this way.  I want to be easily forgiving of mistakes and missteps, and I want to be able to move on.  There are some situations (and people) I've learned to just walk away from, but unfortunately, it isn't always that way for me.

Recently, there have been many circumstances way beyond my control.  I don't like being out of control.  It makes me...  Yep, you guessed it...  Angry.  I've said things, and behaved in ways that have only embarrassed myself.  I forgot to be grateful, I forgot to laugh, and I wanted to blame God. Actually, I really just wanted to blame everyone.  My behavior has strained my relationships with my children, husband and friends.  I have not behaved in a Proverbs 31 manner... More like a head spinning, pea soup spitting, 666 manner. 

Anger is often my first response to a situation, especially when I feel out of control.  It is often my go-to emotion.  I say things I shouldn't and instantly regret them.   Sometimes I get so entrenched in my anger I can't see my way out of it.  It snowballs.  Anger breeds more anger.  My anger (wrongly) then sets the tone for my household and family; when I'm angry, everyone else finds reasons to be angry as well.  I forget to count to ten.  I forget to take deep breaths.  I forget to look for the humor in situations, and I forget to try to find something to be grateful for.  I forget to pray.  I forget that if there's nothing I can do about it, I need to move on.  I forget the things I can control--my attitude, behavior and outlook.  Instead, I fume.  I yell.  I'm not a pleasant person.  My family, and my friends, suffer for it.  And then I feel even worse.  It's not fair to them.  I know my responses with anger are wrong, and it's something I know I need to work on changing.  I need to make it happen for the sake of my own health, my family, and my relationships.  My life has not been a hard one. Sure, dog poop happens, and there are ups and downs. In the grand scheme of things, though, I have so much to be grateful for, and very little to be angry about.

Sadly, I'm seeing these responses in my children.  Children follow example, and this is the incredibly unfortunate example I've been setting.  I don't want this for them, as they deserve better.  I want them to be happy, joyful, successful human beings.  I do not want them to find fault with everything and everyone they come across, and I do not want anger to be their first, and ultimate, response.  I do not want them to be bitter and angry.  I want them to learn, and use, healthy manners of dealing with their emotions.  I want them to live lives of gratitude, and to know peace, grace and joy.  I want them to know contentment.  Their lives are not hard.  They have no reason to carry anger.

So, what point does anger serve?  It doesn't serve any point.  It gets very little done (although, I have to give a quick ode to angry cleaning.... Boy, do those toilets sparkle...), and it's not productive.  It makes me look like a fool, and it makes me feel immature.  It accomplishes nothing (unless we count those sparkling countertops and spotless floors).  There are times that anger is rightly justified, but it's all in how I handle it that is, or isn't, justified.  Anger only holds me back.  It holds me back from my relationships with my husband, children and friends, and it holds me back from enjoying life.  Most importantly, it holds me back from my relationship with Christ.

I need to change.  I need to work on this.  I need to remind myself that my joy and hope are in my Lord, and anger serves no purpose in my life.  My purpose, and energy, are better served setting positive examples for my children.  My energy is better spent teaching my children to find joy and gratitude. My kids deserve a calm household, and an emotionally healthy mom.  They deserve to have better examples set for them.  I do not want to be this negative person.  I want to be the person others are happy to see and talk with.  I do not want to be remembered for my anger.  Instead, I want to be remembered for my kindness; I want to be remembered as a happy person who encouraged others.

It seems God has taken this as a challenge, or perhaps the challenge has always been there, waiting for me.  Situations seem to be arising more than ever, testing my patience and limits.  Alrighty God, bring it on.  Let's do this.

"My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry." James 1:19

"Whoever is patient has great understanding, but one who is quick-tempered displays folly." Proverbs 14:29

"A wise woman builds her home, but a foolish woman tears it down with her own hands." Proverbs 14:1

It's Raining Sharks: Time Well Spent

I have a confession to make.

I love the Sharknado movies.  It's true.  Yes, the acting is terrible.  The special effects are laughable. The storyline is absurd.  It's campy, stupid, silly and outrageous.  And I can't wait for Wednesday night when the next one is broadcast.

I have an even bigger confession to make.

It's not really about the movie.  It's about Noah. It's about time spent with my son.

Noah loves these movies, and I love hearing him laugh.  I love watching him have a good time, and I love having a good time with him.  I love the way we laugh so hard we start hyperventilating and snorting.  I love that we have something special, just the two of us, something we don't share with anyone else in the family.  Sharknado time is our time.

These are the times when Noah opens up and tells me things he wouldn't normally share. He pauses the movie to share something with me, ask me a question, or just ponder life together.  Later, we repeat lines to each other and can replay entire scenes. My prayer is this is what he will remember when he becomes a dad, that I was silly with him, that I wanted to spend time with him doing nonsense things, because these are the things he enjoys.  My hope is that he will remember to be silly and do nonsense things with his children.  On that note, though.... Is it nonsense when the purpose of spending time together is served?  

These are the moments our children will remember.  These are the moments we cherish as their parents.

Thank you, Sharknado, for blessing me with time with my son.

Legacies

Shawn and I both recently lost our grandmothers.  My Nan died last September, and Shawn's grandmother died last week.  It's been hard losing the women who, for all intents and purposes, were the matriarchs of our families. Not a day goes by I don't miss my Nan, and I'm grateful for the daily reminders of her I'm given, and I'm grateful for the lessons she taught me.  Those were the real gifts she gave us grandchildren, and, in turn, her great grandchildren (and even a few great great grands), not the material things.  I was not close to Shawn's grandmother, but I am incredibly grateful to her for how she raised Shawn's mom, who then raised the husband I have now, and the daddy our children have.  Shawn is the real gift I was given by those two amazing women.  The ways these grandmothers led their lives has given us so much to think about, be grateful for, and aspire to.

Both grandmothers didn't necessarily have easy lives.  Both worked hard, both raised multiple children, and both faced various hardships.  Towards the end, they both suffered a great deal, physically.  Physically, life wasn't always peaches and cream. Is it really for anyone, though?

That's not my point here, though.  I don't want to concentrate on that part.  I want to concentrate on what they taught us, and the legacies they left behind in the wake of those hardships.

It's all in how you handle it.

Both women were women of Christ.  They were true believers, and they set the precedent for their families.  To the rest of us, they never wavered in their beliefs.  I grew up watching Nanny read her Bible daily, pray daily, attend church regularly, and lead a life worthy of our Father.  I cannot remember a time when my grandmother had an unkind word to say about anyone.  I don't remember hearing her ever complain.  Joy found in our Father was her preferred way of life. Shawn grew up watching his own grandmother do the same.  They loved as Christ does, leading by example. Despite their hardships, they lived lives of joy.  Right up until the very end, my grandmother was a happy, content, joyful woman.  They found their joy in Christ, and lived lives of praise.  Their love, and their joy, are their legacies.

One of the stories told about Shawn's grandmother this week was about her unwavering faith in the face of personal loss and devastation.  When asked how she could continue to believe, she replied, "How can I not?"

This had led to quite a bit of discussion in our family.  How can we not continue to believe, continue in our faith, continue to be grateful to, pray to, worship, praise and serve our Father in the wake of whatever happens?  If we do not, then what has it all been for?  If we do not continue in our path as believers, how could any possible good ever come out of what is handed to us?

God does not do these things to us, just as He did not do any of the things that happened to Shawn's grandmother.  What God does do is give us the tools to get out of these messes.  He's given us the ultimate tool, the best instructions--His written word--to handle what comes our way.

We've been given quite a bit to think about this week, and I'm grateful to Shawn's grandmother for this.  What will our legacy be?  How will we be remembered?  I want to be remembered as the person who never gave up on God.  He never gives up on us, and I want to live a life worthy of that.  I want to live a life worthy of the example my own grandmother set.

What will your own legacy be?