Unity. How do you feel united? What makes you feel aglow with passion? What keeps your heart going? What makes you feel loved without someone telling you, verbally, every day...I Love You....You're so Perfect...You're the Best Thing that ever happened to me....What keeps you gripping to something when sometimes you wonder...Is my grip being held on the other side? Because I feel like I am slipping.
It's unity. A line that you stand at with another. A force you two, or you ten, envoke when you stand as one. This is how groups become groups. This is why our country became the United States.
Without Unity we are only strangers, self-absorbed, and un-feeling individuals.
Families of the past have been the unified forces of rock-solid determination and of unconditional support. It seems that our families are not what they used to be, though...so how do we make that better? (go to the mirror and look in it.)
Neighborhoods used to be an extension of your family. People you needed on your side because against you would create too much opportunity for turmoil. How could I be friendly with them? What do I even have in common with him? (here's a thought....assuming you have nothing they would desire, or they have nothing you desire, is another way of saying...I got this...I have enough people in my life...I don't need you.)
Power. So many of us are struggling with the lack of feeling power in our lives. We feel like life is something that happens to us, not that we have an active role in. We find ourselves loving and admiring others, but without the love of self to look at our own reflection and say....I am beautiful. I am brave. I am someone who can change. I can be powerful.
Unity=Power
When you are feeling discouraged...or beaten down. Do you turn inward? Do you feel like your problems should not be the problems of others? Does your small voice inside say, "No one really cares to hear about your problems....Everyone else is dealing with their own."
This is your one-way ticket to separatism....To feelings of anger and negativity and detachment.
I want to challenge every person, to push those feelings of detachment, and those inclinations to gossip, and withdraw out of your head. Tighten your tongue, but fill-up your heart. Find a way...there is ALWAYS a way.
Unity can be slowly taken from us when we give in to the feelings someone else tries to impose upon us. Don't give in. Cling to this, "I'm a better person for all the things that come my way. Even when those things are not pleasant."
There is a grip on the other end of yours....and He is God. He's holding you tight. He's asking for your acceptance as His creation and He's willing to accept you, even in your failing.
Get United. Stand Powerful. Know that choosing to hold true to what you know is right, will bring you through any storm.
When you give in to gossip, and anger...you loosen your grip on Him. Jesus taught us to love one another...all others...even the ones whose actions should not warrant love. Love others. FEEL UNITED. Become Powerful.
There was never another man in life like Jesus. But, how many of us wouldn't want to love like that? Wouldn't want to sit so calmly in our faith that no matter the toil presented, love and grace is all that can emanate.
If you are reading this....know that I Love You! That I thank God every day for the blessings of my life and for His tight grip on me. I feel United and Powerful in Him because of you. Because of everyone he has put in my life.
If you ever need anyone to help you feel more put-together...more connected....better acknowledged, please don't forget about me.
Today I realized I have been losing a lot of ground in my journey because I've let BUSY become my mantra. But, I want you to know....I'm never too busy for you and I'm grateful for being a part of your life...big or small. In person or in the cyber-world.
All My Love,
Carrie
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Sense and Sensability
I've said it before and I will say it again....Words Are How God Speaks To ME! (that's right he doesn't use the Goodyear Blimp....he uses words! Crazy, huh...crazy! haha!) But, what I mean by that, is a single word, verb or noun, adjective or adverb...a single word, is how I hear His voice.
It may seem strange to others who do not have this experience with words, but to me, who sits on a word in her head and just turns it and turns it and uses it to plug up the holes she feels in herself, well, it's not strange at all.
This is how I can equate it to you, have you ever had someone tell you something or relate something to you and you have thought, "Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, I've heard this all before," only to hear, almost the SAME thing come out of someone else's mouth or see the same message written in a book, but somehow THAT time is the time the message sinks in? And a person in your life who has sat there and "told you so" says, "I've told you that for years." to which you respond, amazed, "Yes, but now I'm actually HEARING it!"
This is how words speak to me....and fill me up!
In Sunday School, our lesson was on Fear; How if we are to say we are truly Christians who are living a life with God in charge, then why would we, as a nation, knee jerk react to things that "threaten" our security. Why do we feel the need to try to "control" things that are truly, uncontrollable? It was a lesson that came to our Sunday School leader after reading a USA Today article in which a Presbyterian Minister challenged whether we actually were a nation of "In God We Trust" by comparing our reactions to fear.
In the article the minister used the word "sensible". Ahhhhhh, I was searching for you and I didn't know it! I've been looking for this word to fill up this hole, this unknown hole. I didn't know I wasn't whole, but I wasn't.
Sensible, to me, evokes this image: a person who is calm, un-ruffled, measured, acts in a way that is realistic, and involves the group's wishes in coming to a conclusion or a decision. You feel you can trust a sensible person because they make good decisions.
I feel like this. That word feels good on me, I think it is a good describer of how I try to live. And, I like sensible people....I guess that's why I like me!
Hearing this word last Sunday and then accepting that this is part of who I feel I am has helped me to work through a recent offense. I find it interesting that me, a sensible person, when confronted with an issue where my sensibilities were questioned, felt quite the opposite of sensible. I felt infuriated and disrespected. Not feelings that fall in line with who me, a sensible person, usually feels. This situation made me feel as though a poison arrow was being hurled at my Achilles Heel and for as strong and as sensible as I am, I chose a very insensible reaction.
"Me, act insensibly?!? Well," I thought, "I'll show them! I will just stop doing any and everything to help them. I mean, how could they think that of me? Why would they choose to take this instance and find it offensive? Am I untrustworthy? Am I not helpful and committed? How could anyone take this situation and make it into something else?" My defenses were up and fully engaged. No one was going to attack me that way! "How about the way they act, huh?!? Why would someone living in a glass house throw stones at me?"
Clarity then came, as a word breezed into my being. It enveloped me like a blanket fresh out of the dryer, "sensible". The word flowed all over me. From head to toe, I felt this word and wondered if it could soak into me...when I was acting quite the opposite.
I felt immediate imbalanced when this situation, where I was the problem, was brought to me. Completely out of touch with me. I am not a person who gets infuriated easily...but, how would you feel when your Achilles Heel was being threatened? Interesting, isn't it, that when the core of who you feel you are is under attack, your immediate tendency is to act as your total opposite! I'm not attracted to people the opposite of sensible. I'm not akin to wanting insensible people in my life....yet I was reacting like one, wasn't I?
As sensible washed over me, I felt shame. How could sensible find me when I wasn't acting at all sensibly? Would I let it penetrate me and, again, define me? Would I allow sensible to fill me up and to cover my Achilles Heel? I had a choice....I was choosing this reaction..and it was far from sensible...measured.....realistic.....un-ruffled.
This dialogue came when deciding what to choose: "You cannot create a world in which everyone will be sensible. You can only infect the world with your sensibility. Changing who you are in reaction to this situation is exactly the opposite of who God made you to be. Accept that your reaction is the only thing you can do to better insensible situations."
Making sense out of situations can seem impossible. And, I decided that it isn't always what God wants me to do when he gave me sensible. Sometimes making sense is saying, this doesn't.
All I can do is not let insensible situations change the sensible me.
Thank You Lord for giving me that clarity. For bringing sensible to me in that newspaper article and for allowing me the sensibility to leave this situation out of my understanding. You'll bring me healing. I know this because you're a sensible God.
It may seem strange to others who do not have this experience with words, but to me, who sits on a word in her head and just turns it and turns it and uses it to plug up the holes she feels in herself, well, it's not strange at all.
This is how I can equate it to you, have you ever had someone tell you something or relate something to you and you have thought, "Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, I've heard this all before," only to hear, almost the SAME thing come out of someone else's mouth or see the same message written in a book, but somehow THAT time is the time the message sinks in? And a person in your life who has sat there and "told you so" says, "I've told you that for years." to which you respond, amazed, "Yes, but now I'm actually HEARING it!"
This is how words speak to me....and fill me up!
In Sunday School, our lesson was on Fear; How if we are to say we are truly Christians who are living a life with God in charge, then why would we, as a nation, knee jerk react to things that "threaten" our security. Why do we feel the need to try to "control" things that are truly, uncontrollable? It was a lesson that came to our Sunday School leader after reading a USA Today article in which a Presbyterian Minister challenged whether we actually were a nation of "In God We Trust" by comparing our reactions to fear.
In the article the minister used the word "sensible". Ahhhhhh, I was searching for you and I didn't know it! I've been looking for this word to fill up this hole, this unknown hole. I didn't know I wasn't whole, but I wasn't.
Sensible, to me, evokes this image: a person who is calm, un-ruffled, measured, acts in a way that is realistic, and involves the group's wishes in coming to a conclusion or a decision. You feel you can trust a sensible person because they make good decisions.
I feel like this. That word feels good on me, I think it is a good describer of how I try to live. And, I like sensible people....I guess that's why I like me!
Hearing this word last Sunday and then accepting that this is part of who I feel I am has helped me to work through a recent offense. I find it interesting that me, a sensible person, when confronted with an issue where my sensibilities were questioned, felt quite the opposite of sensible. I felt infuriated and disrespected. Not feelings that fall in line with who me, a sensible person, usually feels. This situation made me feel as though a poison arrow was being hurled at my Achilles Heel and for as strong and as sensible as I am, I chose a very insensible reaction.
"Me, act insensibly?!? Well," I thought, "I'll show them! I will just stop doing any and everything to help them. I mean, how could they think that of me? Why would they choose to take this instance and find it offensive? Am I untrustworthy? Am I not helpful and committed? How could anyone take this situation and make it into something else?" My defenses were up and fully engaged. No one was going to attack me that way! "How about the way they act, huh?!? Why would someone living in a glass house throw stones at me?"
Clarity then came, as a word breezed into my being. It enveloped me like a blanket fresh out of the dryer, "sensible". The word flowed all over me. From head to toe, I felt this word and wondered if it could soak into me...when I was acting quite the opposite.
I felt immediate imbalanced when this situation, where I was the problem, was brought to me. Completely out of touch with me. I am not a person who gets infuriated easily...but, how would you feel when your Achilles Heel was being threatened? Interesting, isn't it, that when the core of who you feel you are is under attack, your immediate tendency is to act as your total opposite! I'm not attracted to people the opposite of sensible. I'm not akin to wanting insensible people in my life....yet I was reacting like one, wasn't I?
As sensible washed over me, I felt shame. How could sensible find me when I wasn't acting at all sensibly? Would I let it penetrate me and, again, define me? Would I allow sensible to fill me up and to cover my Achilles Heel? I had a choice....I was choosing this reaction..and it was far from sensible...measured.....realistic.....un-ruffled.
This dialogue came when deciding what to choose: "You cannot create a world in which everyone will be sensible. You can only infect the world with your sensibility. Changing who you are in reaction to this situation is exactly the opposite of who God made you to be. Accept that your reaction is the only thing you can do to better insensible situations."
Making sense out of situations can seem impossible. And, I decided that it isn't always what God wants me to do when he gave me sensible. Sometimes making sense is saying, this doesn't.
All I can do is not let insensible situations change the sensible me.
Thank You Lord for giving me that clarity. For bringing sensible to me in that newspaper article and for allowing me the sensibility to leave this situation out of my understanding. You'll bring me healing. I know this because you're a sensible God.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
It's an Inclusive Statement
Just a couple of things I wanted to record before they were lost from my memory all together....
Last night, Wyatt comes pitter pattering down the hallway, after I heard him in his bed sort of squawking. I open my arms to him as he walks through the door and say, "Come here baby." He nestles into my arms as I help him into the bed. The object in his right hand does not seem of note, I'm sure it's just a sippy cup. Then I see that the shape isn't quite right for a sippy. No, it isn't....what is that? It's a piggy bank, or maybe it's a doggy bank. A hard plastic Dalmatian Coin Bank in his right hand, which he then moves to the armpit stashing area, and hugs like it was the softest most precious object he had to sleep with. I laughed. I think I'm getting a picture of the future....Wall Street Financier (but maybe not a very good one since the bank is void of money!)
Grant asked to have a "big" carrot this morning.
Here's a little back story on Big Carrots.
My children all LOVE Big Carrots. Little Carrots, otherwise known as Baby Carrots, are a no-go in my house. I've decided not to buy the, obviously, much less delectable, little carrots anymore, because when asked if we have carrots and I say, "Yeah. We have carrots, look down in the drawer." I'll hear this response, "No, not little carrots! I want Big Carrots!" said in that, Who the heck would EVER like these carrots, kind of tone. So, after tossing the last bag of uneaten little carrots, I guess Dan and I don't like little carrots either, and freeing up room in my vegetable drawer, I made sure to buy a bag of Big Carrots while I was shopping this weekend.
Grant caught me chopping-up Big Carrots for what will be our dinner tonight, Vegetable Beef Soup, and asked for one.
"Okay," I say. "I'll peel one for you. Bring me one, please. Oh, and go into your room, turn on the light and say, 'Wake Up Bubba!' Okay?! Can you do that for me?"
"Yup."
Whoosh...he's gone! He didn't bring me a carrot though, so I turn around to see that there is a carrot lying on the floor in front of an opened refrigerator drawer and door. While I hear Grant yelling, "Wake up Bubba! Time to get up!" pause, "We have BIG CARROTS!"
"Grant! You left your carrot on the floor with the refrigerator door open!"
As I cross to the fridge to do the closing myself.
"Oh, it's okay Mom." I hear him say from behind me.
Then, I hear the sound of blowing, hard blowing...."phhhhh" "phhhhhhh"
Turning to look back, there is Grant blowing on his carrot. He tells me, "All better, Mom. I can eat it now!"
Haha...
Of course, I take it from his hand to ACTUALLY clean it. Once peeled, he has his Big Carrot and is over-the-moon happy with his breakfast choice!
Griffin comes into the kitchen after letting me know that yes, he is in fact alive and says, "Hey, I'll have a Big Carrot too. And carrots in my lunch too, please. You can cut those up, but not this one. I want this one Big."
Haha...such a funny morning!
Maybe it's just us Southerners....you know....All Southerners believe Bigger is Better Carrots included.
Last night, Wyatt comes pitter pattering down the hallway, after I heard him in his bed sort of squawking. I open my arms to him as he walks through the door and say, "Come here baby." He nestles into my arms as I help him into the bed. The object in his right hand does not seem of note, I'm sure it's just a sippy cup. Then I see that the shape isn't quite right for a sippy. No, it isn't....what is that? It's a piggy bank, or maybe it's a doggy bank. A hard plastic Dalmatian Coin Bank in his right hand, which he then moves to the armpit stashing area, and hugs like it was the softest most precious object he had to sleep with. I laughed. I think I'm getting a picture of the future....Wall Street Financier (but maybe not a very good one since the bank is void of money!)
Grant asked to have a "big" carrot this morning.
Here's a little back story on Big Carrots.
My children all LOVE Big Carrots. Little Carrots, otherwise known as Baby Carrots, are a no-go in my house. I've decided not to buy the, obviously, much less delectable, little carrots anymore, because when asked if we have carrots and I say, "Yeah. We have carrots, look down in the drawer." I'll hear this response, "No, not little carrots! I want Big Carrots!" said in that, Who the heck would EVER like these carrots, kind of tone. So, after tossing the last bag of uneaten little carrots, I guess Dan and I don't like little carrots either, and freeing up room in my vegetable drawer, I made sure to buy a bag of Big Carrots while I was shopping this weekend.
Grant caught me chopping-up Big Carrots for what will be our dinner tonight, Vegetable Beef Soup, and asked for one.
"Okay," I say. "I'll peel one for you. Bring me one, please. Oh, and go into your room, turn on the light and say, 'Wake Up Bubba!' Okay?! Can you do that for me?"
"Yup."
Whoosh...he's gone! He didn't bring me a carrot though, so I turn around to see that there is a carrot lying on the floor in front of an opened refrigerator drawer and door. While I hear Grant yelling, "Wake up Bubba! Time to get up!" pause, "We have BIG CARROTS!"
"Grant! You left your carrot on the floor with the refrigerator door open!"
As I cross to the fridge to do the closing myself.
"Oh, it's okay Mom." I hear him say from behind me.
Then, I hear the sound of blowing, hard blowing...."phhhhh" "phhhhhhh"
Turning to look back, there is Grant blowing on his carrot. He tells me, "All better, Mom. I can eat it now!"
Haha...
Of course, I take it from his hand to ACTUALLY clean it. Once peeled, he has his Big Carrot and is over-the-moon happy with his breakfast choice!
Griffin comes into the kitchen after letting me know that yes, he is in fact alive and says, "Hey, I'll have a Big Carrot too. And carrots in my lunch too, please. You can cut those up, but not this one. I want this one Big."
Haha...such a funny morning!
Maybe it's just us Southerners....you know....All Southerners believe Bigger is Better Carrots included.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Slow and Steady Wins the Race
Just a short little post about convenience.
Have you ever noticed how PO'd we can be when we have to wait? How itchy-for-a-fix we can get when Facebook is down or when we leave our cell phone at home?
How bad is it that back in the day, I could remember every single phone number of every one of my friends in elementary, junior high and high school, even college, but if you asked me today what my Mom's telephone number was I would have to look it up in my phone?!?!? No excuses...this is BAD!
I'm starting to wonder if I might not find life more exciting, even more luscious, if I take away some of the conveniences of my life and start focusing on a life of less.
It bothers me that in my convenienced life, I see that my relationships can be lacking because I rely so heavily on things, and not me. I love the sound of a loved one's voice, yet I text more and more now because of the convenience. I'm simply not placing enough significance on making time. Other times, I find that I take on too much instead of asking for help from others. Because it's more convenient to do it myself instead of stopping to teach someone else. What's that saying....Give a man a fish and he eats for a day. Teach a man to fish and he eats for a lifetime.
Technologies that were intended to help me have made me less of who I want to be. So I need to make some changes....what about you? Do these ideas ever run through your head? Tell me I'm not the only one who wishes things were just a little more like yesteryear....
I've made a decision. Yesteryear can be this year if I start with me.
Now, where to start?
Suggestions?
No more TV? Newpaper instead? Less toys so that the boys have to look outside for entertainment or to books or to learning card games or making-up games? Should I write more letters? No more cell phone at all? Use the cell phone only when at home? No more phone calls in the car? No more texting? No more...gasp...Facebook?!?
I'm going to think on this....and make some slow changes, this is going to be my YesterYear Project.
Have you ever noticed how PO'd we can be when we have to wait? How itchy-for-a-fix we can get when Facebook is down or when we leave our cell phone at home?
How bad is it that back in the day, I could remember every single phone number of every one of my friends in elementary, junior high and high school, even college, but if you asked me today what my Mom's telephone number was I would have to look it up in my phone?!?!? No excuses...this is BAD!
I'm starting to wonder if I might not find life more exciting, even more luscious, if I take away some of the conveniences of my life and start focusing on a life of less.
It bothers me that in my convenienced life, I see that my relationships can be lacking because I rely so heavily on things, and not me. I love the sound of a loved one's voice, yet I text more and more now because of the convenience. I'm simply not placing enough significance on making time. Other times, I find that I take on too much instead of asking for help from others. Because it's more convenient to do it myself instead of stopping to teach someone else. What's that saying....Give a man a fish and he eats for a day. Teach a man to fish and he eats for a lifetime.
Technologies that were intended to help me have made me less of who I want to be. So I need to make some changes....what about you? Do these ideas ever run through your head? Tell me I'm not the only one who wishes things were just a little more like yesteryear....
I've made a decision. Yesteryear can be this year if I start with me.
Now, where to start?
Suggestions?
No more TV? Newpaper instead? Less toys so that the boys have to look outside for entertainment or to books or to learning card games or making-up games? Should I write more letters? No more cell phone at all? Use the cell phone only when at home? No more phone calls in the car? No more texting? No more...gasp...Facebook?!?
I'm going to think on this....and make some slow changes, this is going to be my YesterYear Project.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
English Lesson
A friend of mine lost her father recently. Another friend of mine lost her mother today. My husband's father was deathly ill just last week....very, very sick....which brought me to this.....Parents are so special. Prophetic, aren't I?
Definitely not a new thought, I know, but a new way of thinking, for me. As a person trained in reporting, I started to note, that there is no greater role than that of a parent. As any good reporter does, I asked myself the 5 W's, and came up with this:
Parents are the WHERE and WHEN of our origination. They are the WHAT of our decision making, and the WHY and the HOW behind our WHO.
To every question they are our answer....what a pivotal role in humanity a parent plays....none is more important.
But, how often do you as a parent give yourself this importance? Not very often....I know. Think for a moment, though, on how many times a day God smiles upon you when He sees His love spilling out of you and onto His...who happen to also be yours?! :) Now, tell me THAT thought doesn't change your view on parents!?!?
Living in the South you hear people say the word 'Proud' an awful lot. And it's used in ways I had never heard while living in the Midwest, like: "I was just so proud to help you." And by people who barely know you, you'll hear, "I can't believe you accomplished that?! I'm so proud!"
At first it makes you feel like, "Um, hello? You had nothing to do with my accomplishment, why would YOU be proud?!?" or "Proud, really? You were Proud to help me? Why? You made me some copies...is that a prideful act?"
As a somewhat cynical Yank, I guess I wondered who had taught the English language to these southern folks and why would a person feel pride in something that had little to do with them? Pride is a boastful word not a word you use to find yourself in others' accomplishments...not when you didn't even do anything, am I right?!
But, as I've come to learn, and come to LOVE about living in the South, pride is more than just a selfish verb giving reference back to only the speaker....it's more of a Faithful verb.....giving accolades to Him, our one true parent.
Finding PRIDE in what the people around you do, is a good thing, a GREAT thing. I'm so proud....I'm so proud you got that award! Why am I proud? Because seeing Him glorify you, makes me so grateful that we share the same father!
Don't let anyone ever say that a Southerner doesn't know how to use the word Proud correctly....I think the rest of us could use a few more lessons in His language, don't you?!
Definitely not a new thought, I know, but a new way of thinking, for me. As a person trained in reporting, I started to note, that there is no greater role than that of a parent. As any good reporter does, I asked myself the 5 W's, and came up with this:
Parents are the WHERE and WHEN of our origination. They are the WHAT of our decision making, and the WHY and the HOW behind our WHO.
To every question they are our answer....what a pivotal role in humanity a parent plays....none is more important.
But, how often do you as a parent give yourself this importance? Not very often....I know. Think for a moment, though, on how many times a day God smiles upon you when He sees His love spilling out of you and onto His...who happen to also be yours?! :) Now, tell me THAT thought doesn't change your view on parents!?!?
Living in the South you hear people say the word 'Proud' an awful lot. And it's used in ways I had never heard while living in the Midwest, like: "I was just so proud to help you." And by people who barely know you, you'll hear, "I can't believe you accomplished that?! I'm so proud!"
At first it makes you feel like, "Um, hello? You had nothing to do with my accomplishment, why would YOU be proud?!?" or "Proud, really? You were Proud to help me? Why? You made me some copies...is that a prideful act?"
As a somewhat cynical Yank, I guess I wondered who had taught the English language to these southern folks and why would a person feel pride in something that had little to do with them? Pride is a boastful word not a word you use to find yourself in others' accomplishments...not when you didn't even do anything, am I right?!
But, as I've come to learn, and come to LOVE about living in the South, pride is more than just a selfish verb giving reference back to only the speaker....it's more of a Faithful verb.....giving accolades to Him, our one true parent.
Finding PRIDE in what the people around you do, is a good thing, a GREAT thing. I'm so proud....I'm so proud you got that award! Why am I proud? Because seeing Him glorify you, makes me so grateful that we share the same father!
Don't let anyone ever say that a Southerner doesn't know how to use the word Proud correctly....I think the rest of us could use a few more lessons in His language, don't you?!
Friday, November 6, 2009
What's Been Goin' On?
So, I know I haven't posted in a while....and I have heard from folks that y'all have been wondering where I have been. I sort of fell off the planet a bit....you're right.
I am going to get pictures up soon. I have so many to post. You will probably feel a bit overwhelmed when I do finally get them on here. Many months worth are waiting to be added!
And, too, I want you to know that I have started no less than approximately 3 new posts....but I either decided the posts weren't good enough or that they just sounded a bit blabby....no real content, just a bunch of blabbering. Who really wants to read that, huh?! Well, even if you did, I decided you wouldn't.
Today is sort of emotional for me. And this isn't the first day I have had like this lately.
I'm one day away from possibly knowing what the cause for Griff's learning issues are and I am feeling all kinds of things.
Anxious
Sad
Happy
Worried (though I am trying really hard to live in the moment....baby steps)
Thankful
Frustrated
Insecure
Restless
Just so many things. I want my child to have things as easy as is possible. Don't all parents wish for that? I want things for him to be without frustration. For him to love learning, not want to run away from it. His life as a student will be such a drudgery if day in and day out he leaves for school thinking, "This place is no fun. They suck the self esteem from me. They make me feel like I am dumb."
What a crappy way to feel.
Dan and I were discussing this last night and I was saying, "I read that thing from the teacher. It said that the average student has to see and read a word 40 times before it is committed to long term memory." He said, "Yeah, I read that too." I said, "It wasn't like that for me, Dan. I read a word once, and I knew it. I never had to have help with homework. I did not have to be 'worked' with. The teacher taught something to us. I got it. I thought learning was simple, I thought it was so easy to go to school......No wonder I loved school....it gave me so much self-esteem!"
Then it hit me......Griffin's struggle is finally giving me a look into what the other kids in my class, the ones who didn't like school, were going through. It makes me feel horrible. I now remember howI was not the nicest to those kids. I wasn't as accepting as I should have been because they were the kids who made the teacher frustrated. Who had to be taught something over and over and made some of the lessons not so much fun....Why can't they just get it?!
I'm finally seeing things from that side and it makes me feel horrible. I probably hurt the feelings of other kids, over and over while I was growing up. All because I did not understand that learning, the ability to learn "normally" and quickly, is not normal....that was a gift. And my being less than accepting of my classmates, now makes me feel horrible. I look into the eyes of my son and I think, "Who could be mean to you? You are so precious!" And now, in examining my past, I see my reflection in his eyes and it hurts. I was one of those kids. I was not a bully by any means. But unaccepting, definitely. Dismissive of those who had a harder time learning, absolutely. Gossipy about how "stupid" so and so was, yes.
Oh, I hate knowing now how much that potentially hurt my classmates.
This issue we have been struggling with, it has really pointed out my short-comings and my past hurts.....and I am greatly sorry.
I honestly did not think that I could have ever been remembered by anyone as being a mean kid. I wasn't cruel......but I was. I wasn't snobby........but I was.
Griffin is a beautiful child inside and out. He is perfect just the way God made him, and I know that. But, kids, kids don't know that. Kids only know he takes longer to "get" things than the rest of the class. And, that he's always talking, that's why he doesn't finish his work.
Don't get me wrong, according to his teacher, he is well accepted among his peers. But, we are in only the first part of his schooling. If he continues to drag the class down, he wil not be as well accepted. Kids will definitely start to notice that he is "different" and shy away from socializing with him.
That is how kids are, and I want to shelter my son from as much of that as I can.
So, now I am thinking about the future, even though I try to stop from thinking ahead. Not thinking of what's to come just seems impossible. I need to start preparing myself for what we might have to go through. I don't want to be blindsided. Having an action plan will make things easier, right?!
Yeah, well, that is when the worry begins. When you start thinking of the things that might need to happen, you start to realize they cost, and they take up a lot of time, and you think, "How will we be able to make these things happen and still keep everyone in the family united?"
Worry. Worry. Stress. Stress.
Now add your own hurt because you weren't the most accepting kid, so you feel the need to REALLY plan and do whatever you possibly can to make your child as inconspicuous as possible.
Worry. Worry. Stress. Stress. Cry. Worry. Stress. Cry. Cry. Cry.
I know that there are far bigger challenges out there others are facing. That does give me perspective. Yet, my emotions are still running amok. I'm a mother....I want to protect!
Which explains why I have sort of withdrawn a bit from the outside world, at least I think it does. I'm in preservation mode. I just want to preserve my family's "normalcy" for as long as I can. I know things are about to get even more chaotic, and I'm clinging to our final days.
Pray for us, y'all. Pray for me....I'm the one with the issues!! ha ha! But, tomorrow will be good. We need an answer. I hope Saturday will bring it. I pray they will give me a starting point.....we need one. And Griffin, he needs to feel like he IS smart...that learning CAN be fun....that reading on his own ISN'T impossible..... and, mostly, that his esteem CAN grow from school, not just sucked away when he enters the doors. Lots of prayer needed folks. Keep us on your list!
Love y'all!
I am going to get pictures up soon. I have so many to post. You will probably feel a bit overwhelmed when I do finally get them on here. Many months worth are waiting to be added!
And, too, I want you to know that I have started no less than approximately 3 new posts....but I either decided the posts weren't good enough or that they just sounded a bit blabby....no real content, just a bunch of blabbering. Who really wants to read that, huh?! Well, even if you did, I decided you wouldn't.
Today is sort of emotional for me. And this isn't the first day I have had like this lately.
I'm one day away from possibly knowing what the cause for Griff's learning issues are and I am feeling all kinds of things.
Anxious
Sad
Happy
Worried (though I am trying really hard to live in the moment....baby steps)
Thankful
Frustrated
Insecure
Restless
Just so many things. I want my child to have things as easy as is possible. Don't all parents wish for that? I want things for him to be without frustration. For him to love learning, not want to run away from it. His life as a student will be such a drudgery if day in and day out he leaves for school thinking, "This place is no fun. They suck the self esteem from me. They make me feel like I am dumb."
What a crappy way to feel.
Dan and I were discussing this last night and I was saying, "I read that thing from the teacher. It said that the average student has to see and read a word 40 times before it is committed to long term memory." He said, "Yeah, I read that too." I said, "It wasn't like that for me, Dan. I read a word once, and I knew it. I never had to have help with homework. I did not have to be 'worked' with. The teacher taught something to us. I got it. I thought learning was simple, I thought it was so easy to go to school......No wonder I loved school....it gave me so much self-esteem!"
Then it hit me......Griffin's struggle is finally giving me a look into what the other kids in my class, the ones who didn't like school, were going through. It makes me feel horrible. I now remember howI was not the nicest to those kids. I wasn't as accepting as I should have been because they were the kids who made the teacher frustrated. Who had to be taught something over and over and made some of the lessons not so much fun....Why can't they just get it?!
I'm finally seeing things from that side and it makes me feel horrible. I probably hurt the feelings of other kids, over and over while I was growing up. All because I did not understand that learning, the ability to learn "normally" and quickly, is not normal....that was a gift. And my being less than accepting of my classmates, now makes me feel horrible. I look into the eyes of my son and I think, "Who could be mean to you? You are so precious!" And now, in examining my past, I see my reflection in his eyes and it hurts. I was one of those kids. I was not a bully by any means. But unaccepting, definitely. Dismissive of those who had a harder time learning, absolutely. Gossipy about how "stupid" so and so was, yes.
Oh, I hate knowing now how much that potentially hurt my classmates.
This issue we have been struggling with, it has really pointed out my short-comings and my past hurts.....and I am greatly sorry.
I honestly did not think that I could have ever been remembered by anyone as being a mean kid. I wasn't cruel......but I was. I wasn't snobby........but I was.
Griffin is a beautiful child inside and out. He is perfect just the way God made him, and I know that. But, kids, kids don't know that. Kids only know he takes longer to "get" things than the rest of the class. And, that he's always talking, that's why he doesn't finish his work.
Don't get me wrong, according to his teacher, he is well accepted among his peers. But, we are in only the first part of his schooling. If he continues to drag the class down, he wil not be as well accepted. Kids will definitely start to notice that he is "different" and shy away from socializing with him.
That is how kids are, and I want to shelter my son from as much of that as I can.
So, now I am thinking about the future, even though I try to stop from thinking ahead. Not thinking of what's to come just seems impossible. I need to start preparing myself for what we might have to go through. I don't want to be blindsided. Having an action plan will make things easier, right?!
Yeah, well, that is when the worry begins. When you start thinking of the things that might need to happen, you start to realize they cost, and they take up a lot of time, and you think, "How will we be able to make these things happen and still keep everyone in the family united?"
Worry. Worry. Stress. Stress.
Now add your own hurt because you weren't the most accepting kid, so you feel the need to REALLY plan and do whatever you possibly can to make your child as inconspicuous as possible.
Worry. Worry. Stress. Stress. Cry. Worry. Stress. Cry. Cry. Cry.
I know that there are far bigger challenges out there others are facing. That does give me perspective. Yet, my emotions are still running amok. I'm a mother....I want to protect!
Which explains why I have sort of withdrawn a bit from the outside world, at least I think it does. I'm in preservation mode. I just want to preserve my family's "normalcy" for as long as I can. I know things are about to get even more chaotic, and I'm clinging to our final days.
Pray for us, y'all. Pray for me....I'm the one with the issues!! ha ha! But, tomorrow will be good. We need an answer. I hope Saturday will bring it. I pray they will give me a starting point.....we need one. And Griffin, he needs to feel like he IS smart...that learning CAN be fun....that reading on his own ISN'T impossible..... and, mostly, that his esteem CAN grow from school, not just sucked away when he enters the doors. Lots of prayer needed folks. Keep us on your list!
Love y'all!
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Family
I just don't know how to say it any better than this......I am one BLESSED chick!
A few weeks ago, I became overcome by sadness. I was missing my family! This past weekend, I got to see a good number of them, and I am back to HAPPY!
Being around my family rejuvenates me. It does. It feeds my esteem, and makes my life seem to make sense..... I make sense, you know?!?
These are the people whose influence made me want to be a mom.....who have cared for me unconditionally, and who keep me believing in myself. Even when I am not sitting in the "fan" box of my own life, they are in the stands cheering me on "You can do it!", "You're the greatest!", "We love you so much!"
Ahhhh, a cheering section! That's what I was missing!
Wouldn't it be great if every day as you walked around and made decisions, you had a group of loyal fans who walked along with you saying stuff like, "That's right, you did it! You made the coffee!" Creepy maybe, but hey, your fans love you! They think you are fantastic just the way you are.
That's what I was needing. That's why I went home.
If I could give every person one thing it wouldn't be money or a job or a better job it would be a supportive, loving, and hard-working family.
Where family isn't always people, it's also a place. A place where envy wishes it could come in, but where only acceptance and pride reside. Family is built on generosity and laughter fills its walls. Humility pours from the faucets, and patience illuminates its windows.
I grew up in this place.....this place called family. And everyday I try to recreate it here in my own neck of the woods. But, sometimes, the only way to really make sure you're building the same kind of dwelling in your own life, is to go back.
I love you family. Each and every single one of you. Thank you for renewing me. I am one BLESSED chick!!
A few weeks ago, I became overcome by sadness. I was missing my family! This past weekend, I got to see a good number of them, and I am back to HAPPY!
Being around my family rejuvenates me. It does. It feeds my esteem, and makes my life seem to make sense..... I make sense, you know?!?
These are the people whose influence made me want to be a mom.....who have cared for me unconditionally, and who keep me believing in myself. Even when I am not sitting in the "fan" box of my own life, they are in the stands cheering me on "You can do it!", "You're the greatest!", "We love you so much!"
Ahhhh, a cheering section! That's what I was missing!
Wouldn't it be great if every day as you walked around and made decisions, you had a group of loyal fans who walked along with you saying stuff like, "That's right, you did it! You made the coffee!" Creepy maybe, but hey, your fans love you! They think you are fantastic just the way you are.
That's what I was needing. That's why I went home.
If I could give every person one thing it wouldn't be money or a job or a better job it would be a supportive, loving, and hard-working family.
Where family isn't always people, it's also a place. A place where envy wishes it could come in, but where only acceptance and pride reside. Family is built on generosity and laughter fills its walls. Humility pours from the faucets, and patience illuminates its windows.
I grew up in this place.....this place called family. And everyday I try to recreate it here in my own neck of the woods. But, sometimes, the only way to really make sure you're building the same kind of dwelling in your own life, is to go back.
I love you family. Each and every single one of you. Thank you for renewing me. I am one BLESSED chick!!
Friday, September 11, 2009
Working Towards "It"........the "it" remains undetermined, HELP!
It was the start of a new book in my Mother's Group at church. This book is a 13 week study, but really only has 11 weeks of material. The first week is supposed to be a week of "Getting to Know One Another." Most of us ladies are well acquainted, but ice-breakers can be fun! I went out on the web and found some pretty good questions.
One question was What one store is most represented in your wardrobe....ha ha most of us said Walmart! Then there was, What song best represents the '80's to you? Amy, who had this question said Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. they just a wanna, they just a wanna...Ah yes! Some of the rest of the class said, Pour Some Sugar On Me, and Like A Virgin. I personally thought Peter Gabriel's In Your Eye's (from the movie Say Anything) was the song that best defined the '80's for me. 'Course, that's probably because I was at that pubescent and romantic stage in life where the movie just seemed so dreamy! Someone who loves you and sees so much in your eyes! WOW! Oh, to be a tween-ager again.....please, oh please, I was kidding! I would never want to go back to that stage in life again.....yuck! Nauseated just thinking about it!
Okay, so the question I had, was the one question I wrote down thinking, "I hope I don't get this one." The question was, "What is your life long dream?" I opened this up and anxiety immediately set in! I don't have a lifelong dream! I knew I should have chosen that question about what kinds of things scream "nerd" to you? Sheeesh, does anyone really have a dream from the time they were a child til now? I guess probably Tiger Woods and other people of that sort whose gifts are shown to them at such an early age, but, seriously, does everyone but me have a lifelong dream? Tell me I'm not the only one!!
I was sitting there, and eventually all the questions had been read except mine. I had to read my question to the group and then come up with an answer.
I decided maybe I should say what my dreams are now.... Oh wait, do I have any dreams? Ummmm, No. Okay that idea is shot.
Did I used to have any dreams? Yes.
Do I think I would still like to actualize those? Ummm, no, not really. I mean Solid Gold went off the air years ago, so I doubt they are still looking for dancers :(
Okay, I was batting a thousand here. The only thing I could think of that was a dream, was to be a Mom. I kind of felt like that was a lame answer though, since I was meeting with a group of mothers and that's the one thing we all were! Doesn't sound too "dreamy" among that crowd.
I ended up saying, "Well, I always wanted to be a Mom. And now, here I sit, Mom to three. So, I did that. But, ummm, yeah, really, I cannot think of any life long dream I ever had for myself."
That just sounds pathetic, huh?!? Yeah, so, right now I want you to do something for me, make an L with your right hand, press it to your forehead, and in your best Ace Ventura voice, say, "Loooooo-Seeeerrrrr!" That is how I felt answering that question. I'm a tiny green pea in a world of enormous orange pumpkins....very insignificant, out of place, and odd, I felt.
It's not like I don't have goals. My goals just seem to be more on the short term and not on the large scale anymore. I rarely ever dream, and I never day-dream, or catch myself fantasizing about things not at all the same girl I was back when I was all goo-goo eyed over John Cusack in Say Anything when he stood in front of Ione Skye's window with the boom box lifted in the air, and Peter Gabriel's In Your Eyes blasting out...maybe I could learn something from my tween-age years, after all. Maybe pick up a lost trait and bring it back to 30'something with me....hmmmmm, where do you find a time machine these days.....
I guess since growing up, I've become much more literal. What's realistic? What's tangible? Focus on the now, etc, etc. But I think I'd like to try being a little less here and now, and a little more when....
So, I'm on a mission: actualize a dream. Figure out what my lifelong, or maybe just from this point on, dream is and see myself realizing it.
I think I'll start with setting a goal. An attainable goal. Something that will get my feet wet. Been a long time since I set one of those.
Who wants to join me? Set a goal. Figure out what you want and aim for it. Just because I got the college degree, I got the man, I got the kids, I got the house, and I got the friends doesn't mean I should stop achieving, does it?!
Please leave me comments on this topic. Maybe they're your goals, or how you actualized your lifelong dream, or what you feel inspired to now strive for, etc.
I need support on this. I'm too good at adding myself in at the bottom of the list. I have to start figuring out how I can move up a notch or two and still maintain my other achievements. Your input would be lovely.
Here's to climbing :)
One question was What one store is most represented in your wardrobe....ha ha most of us said Walmart! Then there was, What song best represents the '80's to you? Amy, who had this question said Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. they just a wanna, they just a wanna...Ah yes! Some of the rest of the class said, Pour Some Sugar On Me, and Like A Virgin. I personally thought Peter Gabriel's In Your Eye's (from the movie Say Anything) was the song that best defined the '80's for me. 'Course, that's probably because I was at that pubescent and romantic stage in life where the movie just seemed so dreamy! Someone who loves you and sees so much in your eyes! WOW! Oh, to be a tween-ager again.....please, oh please, I was kidding! I would never want to go back to that stage in life again.....yuck! Nauseated just thinking about it!
Okay, so the question I had, was the one question I wrote down thinking, "I hope I don't get this one." The question was, "What is your life long dream?" I opened this up and anxiety immediately set in! I don't have a lifelong dream! I knew I should have chosen that question about what kinds of things scream "nerd" to you? Sheeesh, does anyone really have a dream from the time they were a child til now? I guess probably Tiger Woods and other people of that sort whose gifts are shown to them at such an early age, but, seriously, does everyone but me have a lifelong dream? Tell me I'm not the only one!!
I was sitting there, and eventually all the questions had been read except mine. I had to read my question to the group and then come up with an answer.
I decided maybe I should say what my dreams are now.... Oh wait, do I have any dreams? Ummmm, No. Okay that idea is shot.
Did I used to have any dreams? Yes.
Do I think I would still like to actualize those? Ummm, no, not really. I mean Solid Gold went off the air years ago, so I doubt they are still looking for dancers :(
Okay, I was batting a thousand here. The only thing I could think of that was a dream, was to be a Mom. I kind of felt like that was a lame answer though, since I was meeting with a group of mothers and that's the one thing we all were! Doesn't sound too "dreamy" among that crowd.
I ended up saying, "Well, I always wanted to be a Mom. And now, here I sit, Mom to three. So, I did that. But, ummm, yeah, really, I cannot think of any life long dream I ever had for myself."
That just sounds pathetic, huh?!? Yeah, so, right now I want you to do something for me, make an L with your right hand, press it to your forehead, and in your best Ace Ventura voice, say, "Loooooo-Seeeerrrrr!" That is how I felt answering that question. I'm a tiny green pea in a world of enormous orange pumpkins....very insignificant, out of place, and odd, I felt.
It's not like I don't have goals. My goals just seem to be more on the short term and not on the large scale anymore. I rarely ever dream, and I never day-dream, or catch myself fantasizing about things not at all the same girl I was back when I was all goo-goo eyed over John Cusack in Say Anything when he stood in front of Ione Skye's window with the boom box lifted in the air, and Peter Gabriel's In Your Eyes blasting out...maybe I could learn something from my tween-age years, after all. Maybe pick up a lost trait and bring it back to 30'something with me....hmmmmm, where do you find a time machine these days.....
I guess since growing up, I've become much more literal. What's realistic? What's tangible? Focus on the now, etc, etc. But I think I'd like to try being a little less here and now, and a little more when....
So, I'm on a mission: actualize a dream. Figure out what my lifelong, or maybe just from this point on, dream is and see myself realizing it.
I think I'll start with setting a goal. An attainable goal. Something that will get my feet wet. Been a long time since I set one of those.
Who wants to join me? Set a goal. Figure out what you want and aim for it. Just because I got the college degree, I got the man, I got the kids, I got the house, and I got the friends doesn't mean I should stop achieving, does it?!
Please leave me comments on this topic. Maybe they're your goals, or how you actualized your lifelong dream, or what you feel inspired to now strive for, etc.
I need support on this. I'm too good at adding myself in at the bottom of the list. I have to start figuring out how I can move up a notch or two and still maintain my other achievements. Your input would be lovely.
Here's to climbing :)
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Not Lazy....Efficient!
My friends, of more than two kids, and I like to say that we are "laid-back" parents. We joke about how one of our kids can fall off a two foot drop and as long as there was grass where they fell or something semi-soft, we'll just yell from where we stand, "You okay Buddy?"
There's no stop what you are doing to run out and see if they are okay. Nope, just a, "Brush it off. You're okay. That was a bad one, huh? Well, go get me a band-aid....and try not to bleed on the living room carpet."
Okay, that's a little bit of an exaggeration.....we no longer have carpet in our living room.
But, anyway, my point is this, once you have more kids than equals you plus your husband....or husband plus wife, which for most of us is two, unless you are one of those Pluralists, then, well, who knows, you might have to have 6 kids in order to gain more kids than you have wives, so if you are a Pluralist and you are reading this, I hope you're grateful that I included you in my equation. Back to the subject...once you have more kids than you are in sum total, in our case 2, then things that used to send you into a tizzy start to become less and less important, and sanity, enjoying the moment no matter how crazy and chaotic the environment is around you, start to win out.
I think before I had three kids I used to call this lazy. Yep, you heard it. Before I had three kids, if you were the type of parents who were like, "Hey, you, kid I can't remember the name of, get in here and eat your dinner." I would probably have thought, You know, they should really have approached the child. Putting yourself in their immediate space gets the child to do what is being asked, not yelling from another room. Gah! The audacity! Don't they watch SuperNanny? Get down to their level! That's what SuperNanny says!
Oh, I was a much better Mom before I had children, wasn't I?!
Now, you will find me on any given day yelling from the kitchen into the living room, "Hey, go get your shoes on like I asked you to 5 minutes ago, or I am going to hot glue them to your feet so you can't ever take them off!"
"What? You can't find them? Even more reason for the hot glue gun. Do you really need me to go down that road with you, son? Really, really? How 'bout getting off the couch and actually looking! Only then, will I maybe start helping you.....Can't find 'em? Well, when you don't actually lift yourself off of the couch how could you? Get up and look!" And, might I mention this is all done while not even actually seeing my son! I just KNOW what he is or isn't up to....mother's intuition, priceless!
Yelling through walls, this is how we of out-numbered status get things done. I cannot go with my son, holding his hand and stroking his ego so as not to stunt him emotionally, every time he needs to find his shoes. Can't do it. Not enough time in the day. Not enough of ME to go around. Sorry son, consider this an early lesson in independence.
But, as I have come to realize, this method for parenting is actually the better parenting method. Okay so I'm biased because it's how I roll, and if you disagree, well, start writing your own blog and maybe I will be a changed woman, maybe, probably not, but maybe.... The reason I say that my method is the better method of parenting is because it teaches children to self soothe. It teaches them to say to themselves, "Is this something I really should sit here and cry over or would that just be wasting my precious play time?" and "Mom doesn't drive herself batty trying to meet all my demands. She is here for me, but she's never going to do everything for me. Even though I beg!"
I call this being a non-s'mother'er. I mother, not smother. It may seem less loving to you, but I don't see it that way. I am so super limited on what I can do and how much time I can give to it, that I have to prioritize. Though, this does not mean that I always choose with precision, as my husband will attest. For example, I may start another load of laundry, while he is waiting in the air-doesn't-move attic on a smoldering hot day for me to help put stuff up and away, "Honey, I was waiting. Did you really have to get that laundry started this very second or could you have waited 5 minutes?"
"Ummmm, in my head, yes, yes, I really did. But, now I see what you mean....Ooops, Sorry! Need a block of ice?"
Yeah, so sometimes I mess up, well sue me, I'm human.
In being a non-s'mother'er with a laid-back parenting style, you can be mis-read. People will think you are lazy and uncaring. You don't jump to get your child what they need, you tell them where it is and how to get it....man, sooooo lazy!
You won't sign your kid up for every flavor of the week activity your child thinks he is going to just love doing, "Oh please, please, please! I always wanted to learn about bee-keeping! Please!"
"Not this time Sweetie, we need to see how this school year goes first, then we can start adding in activities, if our schedules will allow it. And I know, I know....I'm soooo MEEEEAN!!!"
When you parent in a laid-back sort of way, and allow your children to do for themselves, you really are teaching them to care for themselves.
You are saying to them, Mom's independence is necessary for this family to run smoothly, because if I am not sane, you won't have even half the things you have now.
You are saying to them, your independence is necessary. If you rely on me for all your "needs" then how will you ever grow in esteem for yourself?
I was raised in a large blended family. I felt many times that I was treated unfairly, and "If they really loved me they would let me..." But, what I now see is that family was always the center of importance in my rearing. Not me, but the family. Parents who made me do things for myself were not "lazy" but simply, great leaders and teachers who taught me esteem while making me do for myself. And generosity when asking me to take part in chores and family tasks.
Yeah, I'll take one of those "lazy" parents who allows their kids moments of independence and healthy risk opportunities, over a smother'er any day! Any other takers?
There's no stop what you are doing to run out and see if they are okay. Nope, just a, "Brush it off. You're okay. That was a bad one, huh? Well, go get me a band-aid....and try not to bleed on the living room carpet."
Okay, that's a little bit of an exaggeration.....we no longer have carpet in our living room.
But, anyway, my point is this, once you have more kids than equals you plus your husband....or husband plus wife, which for most of us is two, unless you are one of those Pluralists, then, well, who knows, you might have to have 6 kids in order to gain more kids than you have wives, so if you are a Pluralist and you are reading this, I hope you're grateful that I included you in my equation. Back to the subject...once you have more kids than you are in sum total, in our case 2, then things that used to send you into a tizzy start to become less and less important, and sanity, enjoying the moment no matter how crazy and chaotic the environment is around you, start to win out.
I think before I had three kids I used to call this lazy. Yep, you heard it. Before I had three kids, if you were the type of parents who were like, "Hey, you, kid I can't remember the name of, get in here and eat your dinner." I would probably have thought, You know, they should really have approached the child. Putting yourself in their immediate space gets the child to do what is being asked, not yelling from another room. Gah! The audacity! Don't they watch SuperNanny? Get down to their level! That's what SuperNanny says!
Oh, I was a much better Mom before I had children, wasn't I?!
Now, you will find me on any given day yelling from the kitchen into the living room, "Hey, go get your shoes on like I asked you to 5 minutes ago, or I am going to hot glue them to your feet so you can't ever take them off!"
"What? You can't find them? Even more reason for the hot glue gun. Do you really need me to go down that road with you, son? Really, really? How 'bout getting off the couch and actually looking! Only then, will I maybe start helping you.....Can't find 'em? Well, when you don't actually lift yourself off of the couch how could you? Get up and look!" And, might I mention this is all done while not even actually seeing my son! I just KNOW what he is or isn't up to....mother's intuition, priceless!
Yelling through walls, this is how we of out-numbered status get things done. I cannot go with my son, holding his hand and stroking his ego so as not to stunt him emotionally, every time he needs to find his shoes. Can't do it. Not enough time in the day. Not enough of ME to go around. Sorry son, consider this an early lesson in independence.
But, as I have come to realize, this method for parenting is actually the better parenting method. Okay so I'm biased because it's how I roll, and if you disagree, well, start writing your own blog and maybe I will be a changed woman, maybe, probably not, but maybe.... The reason I say that my method is the better method of parenting is because it teaches children to self soothe. It teaches them to say to themselves, "Is this something I really should sit here and cry over or would that just be wasting my precious play time?" and "Mom doesn't drive herself batty trying to meet all my demands. She is here for me, but she's never going to do everything for me. Even though I beg!"
I call this being a non-s'mother'er. I mother, not smother. It may seem less loving to you, but I don't see it that way. I am so super limited on what I can do and how much time I can give to it, that I have to prioritize. Though, this does not mean that I always choose with precision, as my husband will attest. For example, I may start another load of laundry, while he is waiting in the air-doesn't-move attic on a smoldering hot day for me to help put stuff up and away, "Honey, I was waiting. Did you really have to get that laundry started this very second or could you have waited 5 minutes?"
"Ummmm, in my head, yes, yes, I really did. But, now I see what you mean....Ooops, Sorry! Need a block of ice?"
Yeah, so sometimes I mess up, well sue me, I'm human.
In being a non-s'mother'er with a laid-back parenting style, you can be mis-read. People will think you are lazy and uncaring. You don't jump to get your child what they need, you tell them where it is and how to get it....man, sooooo lazy!
You won't sign your kid up for every flavor of the week activity your child thinks he is going to just love doing, "Oh please, please, please! I always wanted to learn about bee-keeping! Please!"
"Not this time Sweetie, we need to see how this school year goes first, then we can start adding in activities, if our schedules will allow it. And I know, I know....I'm soooo MEEEEAN!!!"
When you parent in a laid-back sort of way, and allow your children to do for themselves, you really are teaching them to care for themselves.
You are saying to them, Mom's independence is necessary for this family to run smoothly, because if I am not sane, you won't have even half the things you have now.
You are saying to them, your independence is necessary. If you rely on me for all your "needs" then how will you ever grow in esteem for yourself?
I was raised in a large blended family. I felt many times that I was treated unfairly, and "If they really loved me they would let me..." But, what I now see is that family was always the center of importance in my rearing. Not me, but the family. Parents who made me do things for myself were not "lazy" but simply, great leaders and teachers who taught me esteem while making me do for myself. And generosity when asking me to take part in chores and family tasks.
Yeah, I'll take one of those "lazy" parents who allows their kids moments of independence and healthy risk opportunities, over a smother'er any day! Any other takers?
Monday, August 24, 2009
What a Lady!
I was looking for something entirely different while out on the 'net Google-ing, and found this article. How funny!
First of all, she's in the age range of my Grannies, so I instantly like her.
Second of all, she's packin' heat so you'd better watch out....seriously, watch out! She ain't playin' when it comes to "Chariot"!
And, Lastly, did anyone catch that at 88 she drove from Orlando to Pennsylvania?! I had to Google that to find out the distance, and it doesn't specify where in Pennsylvania she went, but just putting in Orland to Pennsylvania got me a Google map with the mileage of 1,088miles! Good Gracious! To be 88 and drive your car over 2,000 miles round trip is just amazing! Doesn't say how many days it took her or if she drove the whole way, but it seems like she was at least IN the car for the entire ride. She wins a medal for that alone! 2,000 miles in a car, no matter how many days it takes, is a LONG trip for anyone! Let alone an 88 year old! My knees started to cramp, my hips started to ache, and my butt asked me to "Stand UP" just thinking about it!
Rachel Veitch, I like you!
First of all, she's in the age range of my Grannies, so I instantly like her.
Second of all, she's packin' heat so you'd better watch out....seriously, watch out! She ain't playin' when it comes to "Chariot"!
And, Lastly, did anyone catch that at 88 she drove from Orlando to Pennsylvania?! I had to Google that to find out the distance, and it doesn't specify where in Pennsylvania she went, but just putting in Orland to Pennsylvania got me a Google map with the mileage of 1,088miles! Good Gracious! To be 88 and drive your car over 2,000 miles round trip is just amazing! Doesn't say how many days it took her or if she drove the whole way, but it seems like she was at least IN the car for the entire ride. She wins a medal for that alone! 2,000 miles in a car, no matter how many days it takes, is a LONG trip for anyone! Let alone an 88 year old! My knees started to cramp, my hips started to ache, and my butt asked me to "Stand UP" just thinking about it!
Rachel Veitch, I like you!
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Don't Forget My Aero-Plane!
Grant's been talking about his birthday for about a month now. Every day he wakes up and says, "It's almost my birthday." And I tell him he's right....his birthday is just a few short weeks away.
About a week ago, I said maybe he would get an airplane for his birthday, since he was more than upset when Bubba got an airplane, and he didn't...why you ask? Well, because he said he wanted one, then decided he wanted a Super hero movie instead, sooooo, he changed his mind and was then remorseful about his decision. "That my aero-plane."
"No, Grant, that's Bubba's. You wanted the movie. Bubba got the airplane."
"Cuz that's mine! That's not Bubba's!"
"It is Bubba's. Maybe you can get an airplane for your birthday....maybe someone will get you an airplane for your birthday in a couple of weeks."
"That's right! I get a hopa-doctor and a aero-plane and a koh-toe-kye-cle fo my birthday?"
"Um, well, maybe an airplane. But, you think you'll get a helicopter, and a motorcycle, too?!
"Uh-Huh!!"
"Okay, well you never know! You might get at least one of those!"
"That's right Momma. I get all those fo my birthday. Bubba not get any."
"Not on your birthday, you're right. He won't get any of those on your birthday."
So, since then, every day, he wakes up and tells me about how it is almost his birthday and how he is going to get a koh-toe-kye-cle an aero-plane and a hopa-doctor on his birthday!
It is now my mission to make sure that he gets at least one of those or there is going to be a complete meltdown on his day!
Our neighbor's boy has this Batman Imaginext BatCave....it comes with a Batman, Robin, and a koh-toe-kye-cle. For an additional $12 you can get this hopa-doctor. Thinking our little man would not constantly ask to go see our neighbor Kyle if he, too, had one of these!
Now, this brings up the question....how much do you spend on birthday gifts for your own kids? What do you think is reasonable? I am not big into the whole "party" idea for kids Grant's age. I feel like if he won't really remember it, why bother? What he will remember is a gathering of people who love him. Which is why I usually just have a barbecue and invite over a bunch of our friends and their kids. That feels more appropriate to me. And, it's not about the gifts either. I tell everyone invited not to bring a gift. We just want Grant to have friends to play with....that's what makes a party fun, right?! Friends!
What he should take away from "his day" is that people who love him got together to celebrate and show him how much he is loved with their presence, not their presents.
But, as Mom and Dad we will be gifting him. Gotta make at least one of his wishes come true! So, that got me wondering how much other people gift? Do you have a standard set amount? Or do you have a rule about the kinds of gifts you give your kids, etc?
I have a couple of standards:
Baby Showers...diapers, wipes, baby necessities, all packaged in a small-ish Rubbermaid tote. I give it in the tote because with babies they are constantly growing out of clothes and growing into other sizes, etc. Having an extra tote makes it easy to store future outfits, or put away too small ones to then hand-down to someone else, or store away for the next baby! Such a useful gift, if you ask me! 'Course I am VERY practical!
Kid's Birthday Party.....I usually try to give clothing or books or something other than toys. As a parent of three, I know how much kids LOVE getting toys, but also how disrespectful to them they can be when they have too many! And, we have a standard set dollar amount on what we give for each event. That way I know I am always being fair, and too, it pushes me to be more creative! :)
So, as I was taking my ideas for gifts, etc, into consideration, I was wondering if others of you had standards or rules or limits, etc. Let me know.....I'm always interested in the ways others govern their families, children, homes, etc.
About a week ago, I said maybe he would get an airplane for his birthday, since he was more than upset when Bubba got an airplane, and he didn't...why you ask? Well, because he said he wanted one, then decided he wanted a Super hero movie instead, sooooo, he changed his mind and was then remorseful about his decision. "That my aero-plane."
"No, Grant, that's Bubba's. You wanted the movie. Bubba got the airplane."
"Cuz that's mine! That's not Bubba's!"
"It is Bubba's. Maybe you can get an airplane for your birthday....maybe someone will get you an airplane for your birthday in a couple of weeks."
"That's right! I get a hopa-doctor and a aero-plane and a koh-toe-kye-cle fo my birthday?"
"Um, well, maybe an airplane. But, you think you'll get a helicopter, and a motorcycle, too?!
"Uh-Huh!!"
"Okay, well you never know! You might get at least one of those!"
"That's right Momma. I get all those fo my birthday. Bubba not get any."
"Not on your birthday, you're right. He won't get any of those on your birthday."
So, since then, every day, he wakes up and tells me about how it is almost his birthday and how he is going to get a koh-toe-kye-cle an aero-plane and a hopa-doctor on his birthday!
It is now my mission to make sure that he gets at least one of those or there is going to be a complete meltdown on his day!
Our neighbor's boy has this Batman Imaginext BatCave....it comes with a Batman, Robin, and a koh-toe-kye-cle. For an additional $12 you can get this hopa-doctor. Thinking our little man would not constantly ask to go see our neighbor Kyle if he, too, had one of these!
Now, this brings up the question....how much do you spend on birthday gifts for your own kids? What do you think is reasonable? I am not big into the whole "party" idea for kids Grant's age. I feel like if he won't really remember it, why bother? What he will remember is a gathering of people who love him. Which is why I usually just have a barbecue and invite over a bunch of our friends and their kids. That feels more appropriate to me. And, it's not about the gifts either. I tell everyone invited not to bring a gift. We just want Grant to have friends to play with....that's what makes a party fun, right?! Friends!
What he should take away from "his day" is that people who love him got together to celebrate and show him how much he is loved with their presence, not their presents.
But, as Mom and Dad we will be gifting him. Gotta make at least one of his wishes come true! So, that got me wondering how much other people gift? Do you have a standard set amount? Or do you have a rule about the kinds of gifts you give your kids, etc?
I have a couple of standards:
Baby Showers...diapers, wipes, baby necessities, all packaged in a small-ish Rubbermaid tote. I give it in the tote because with babies they are constantly growing out of clothes and growing into other sizes, etc. Having an extra tote makes it easy to store future outfits, or put away too small ones to then hand-down to someone else, or store away for the next baby! Such a useful gift, if you ask me! 'Course I am VERY practical!
Kid's Birthday Party.....I usually try to give clothing or books or something other than toys. As a parent of three, I know how much kids LOVE getting toys, but also how disrespectful to them they can be when they have too many! And, we have a standard set dollar amount on what we give for each event. That way I know I am always being fair, and too, it pushes me to be more creative! :)
So, as I was taking my ideas for gifts, etc, into consideration, I was wondering if others of you had standards or rules or limits, etc. Let me know.....I'm always interested in the ways others govern their families, children, homes, etc.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Weekend Wrap-Up
Funny things from the weekend:
Grant and Griffin were laying in our bed on Sunday both being told to take naps. Well, I could hear them in there messin' with each other, but figured I would just let it continue until it got above a certain decibel. A few minutes pass and here comes Griffin. "I just can't get any rest."
I say, "Well, I can hear you in there with your brother messin' around, so I'm sure that's why you can't get any rest." He says, "Well, he's just in there slapping me in the face and pulling my hair." I said, "Well, when it started were you laughing about it?" He says, "Yeah, but then he pulled my hair and it really hurt." I said, "Well, you maybe should just go sleep in your own bed then." He says, "Grant shouldn't be pullin' people's hair....my head really hurts."
"Okay, Honey. I hear ya. Just go lay down in your bed."
Griffin goes away and comes back in the living room...."Son, I told you to go to lay down."
"I know Mom, but here's what Grant did. See my hair?"
He hands me a chunk, and I mean a CHUNK, of hair that I half-way expected to have scalp attached to it! Holy cow! I had no idea someone could pull that much hair out of another person's head! Let alone a not-even 3 year old!
So, we marched back into my bedroom and I said, "Grant. You pulled this hair out of Bubba's head. We don't do that! We don't pull hair......that really hurt Bubba!"
Grant says, "Cuz, we fight. Bubba want to fight. We fight Momma."
"No, you lay down. Momma will lay down with you. Want me to lay down between you two Griffin?"
"Yeah"
"Okay. I will."
"Mom."
"Yes baby."
"Be careful, Mom. He might pull your hair out, too."
"I appreciate that. Hopefully he knows better than to do that to me." Have to say, I was a tad nervous....
Later that day......
Driving to run some errands....all the kids in the van, Dan driving, the Black Eyed Peas singing Boom Boom Pow on our stereo......all the kids and Mom dancing in our seats. Song ends. Griffin says, "Can you play that again?" Dan says, "It's the radio Buddy they can play anything." Griffin says, "Well, can you play another song like that?" We find another station playin' Low by Flo-Rida....Griffin's in the back mouthing Low, Low Low, Momma's up front dancing around, doing the shoulder-shimmy, Wyatt is pumping his fist in the air, and Grant is rocking side to side. I look at Dan and say, "I wonder how many other white families drive down the road listening to Hip-Hop with their whole white-as-they get, Aryan-looking boys dancing like they were all part of America's Best Dance Crew?" Good Times!!!
We were leaving Target, two carts, three kids, and a few bags. Dan put Wyatt in the van, I was putting the bags in the back, and Griffin was moving his cart into the cart corral....with Grant still in it. Griffin gets in the van and says, "Listen to Grant......He's yelling 'ayudame' like on Dora." Dan says, "Where is he?" Griffin, "In the cart...he needs help getting out." Too much to expect Griffin to help his hair-pulling brother out of it, huh?....
Being that we were parked right next to the cart corral, we pop our heads out of the van to hear Grant yelling, "Help Me! Help Me! Ayudame!" Had me in tears! So funny! Any Spanish speaker in the general vicinity would have been proud of his inflections too, very authentic! ha ha ha!
And let's not forget, Wyatt tried to sit on Gracie (our neighbor baby)'s face. Threw a fit because I was holding said baby, and has decided that our neighborhood belongs to him. When following him on his trek through HIS 'hood, he gets HIGHLY perturbed! Will turn around and screech at me while pointing his finger....."Back off lady!!" He's BOSSY that one!
Busy weekend, but fun....how could it not be with those three?!
Grant and Griffin were laying in our bed on Sunday both being told to take naps. Well, I could hear them in there messin' with each other, but figured I would just let it continue until it got above a certain decibel. A few minutes pass and here comes Griffin. "I just can't get any rest."
I say, "Well, I can hear you in there with your brother messin' around, so I'm sure that's why you can't get any rest." He says, "Well, he's just in there slapping me in the face and pulling my hair." I said, "Well, when it started were you laughing about it?" He says, "Yeah, but then he pulled my hair and it really hurt." I said, "Well, you maybe should just go sleep in your own bed then." He says, "Grant shouldn't be pullin' people's hair....my head really hurts."
"Okay, Honey. I hear ya. Just go lay down in your bed."
Griffin goes away and comes back in the living room...."Son, I told you to go to lay down."
"I know Mom, but here's what Grant did. See my hair?"
He hands me a chunk, and I mean a CHUNK, of hair that I half-way expected to have scalp attached to it! Holy cow! I had no idea someone could pull that much hair out of another person's head! Let alone a not-even 3 year old!
So, we marched back into my bedroom and I said, "Grant. You pulled this hair out of Bubba's head. We don't do that! We don't pull hair......that really hurt Bubba!"
Grant says, "Cuz, we fight. Bubba want to fight. We fight Momma."
"No, you lay down. Momma will lay down with you. Want me to lay down between you two Griffin?"
"Yeah"
"Okay. I will."
"Mom."
"Yes baby."
"Be careful, Mom. He might pull your hair out, too."
"I appreciate that. Hopefully he knows better than to do that to me." Have to say, I was a tad nervous....
Later that day......
Driving to run some errands....all the kids in the van, Dan driving, the Black Eyed Peas singing Boom Boom Pow on our stereo......all the kids and Mom dancing in our seats. Song ends. Griffin says, "Can you play that again?" Dan says, "It's the radio Buddy they can play anything." Griffin says, "Well, can you play another song like that?" We find another station playin' Low by Flo-Rida....Griffin's in the back mouthing Low, Low Low, Momma's up front dancing around, doing the shoulder-shimmy, Wyatt is pumping his fist in the air, and Grant is rocking side to side. I look at Dan and say, "I wonder how many other white families drive down the road listening to Hip-Hop with their whole white-as-they get, Aryan-looking boys dancing like they were all part of America's Best Dance Crew?" Good Times!!!
We were leaving Target, two carts, three kids, and a few bags. Dan put Wyatt in the van, I was putting the bags in the back, and Griffin was moving his cart into the cart corral....with Grant still in it. Griffin gets in the van and says, "Listen to Grant......He's yelling 'ayudame' like on Dora." Dan says, "Where is he?" Griffin, "In the cart...he needs help getting out." Too much to expect Griffin to help his hair-pulling brother out of it, huh?....
Being that we were parked right next to the cart corral, we pop our heads out of the van to hear Grant yelling, "Help Me! Help Me! Ayudame!" Had me in tears! So funny! Any Spanish speaker in the general vicinity would have been proud of his inflections too, very authentic! ha ha ha!
And let's not forget, Wyatt tried to sit on Gracie (our neighbor baby)'s face. Threw a fit because I was holding said baby, and has decided that our neighborhood belongs to him. When following him on his trek through HIS 'hood, he gets HIGHLY perturbed! Will turn around and screech at me while pointing his finger....."Back off lady!!" He's BOSSY that one!
Busy weekend, but fun....how could it not be with those three?!
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Truly: THE BEST WEDDING ENTRANCE EVER!
Okay....one last post before I leave for vacation......oh my gosh this is too amazing!
Thanks Rachel for forwarding this to me!
It made me BAWL like a baby! Most of you probably won't. This is ME we are talking about! But for me it just illustrated how much these friends and family members must totally love the bride and groom!
And to be that happy! And to get everyone in the church THAT happy, WOW!!!!
Which is why I cried.....I love it!
So, watch this fantastic video and feel what I felt, if even just a little.....Bravo Jill and Kevin for making your wedding day that AWESOME!!!
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
What Did Jesus Look Like?
I'm trying to remember how this conversation started....
Okay, it was raining yesterday and I was driving Griffin home from his tutor.
Griffin: "It's raining. It's like God is taking a shower."
Me: "That's funny! Where'd you here that from, Honey?"
Griffin: "It's in the Bible...it's a Bible verse."
Me: "Oh it is, huh? Hmmmm, I never heard that one. I'm glad you told me."
Then I started thinking about something we were talking about in our Sunday School Class. So I said....
Me: "So, you think God takes showers? What do you think, then, that God looks like?"
Griffin: "Oh, he has long hair. And he wears a blue...ummmm...."
Me: "Robe?"
Griffin: "Yeah, a robe. It's blue. And he wears black sandals. Oh, and his hair is brown. And he sits in a chair in Heaven."
Me: "Well, then, what do you think Jesus looks like?"
Griffin: "Oh, Jesus? Oh, well, he's got shorter hair. And he wears a red robe, and black sandals. And his hair is brown and he's peach."
Me: "Peach. You think Jesus is peach?"
Griffin: "Yeah. What do you think God and Jesus looks like?"
Me: "Well, I really have no idea what God looks like. None. But, Jesus. Well, we know that he was Middle Eastern. So, I would guess he was more brown than peach."
Griffin: "Huh. Well, I guess we'll find out when we go to Heaven. We'll meet 'em then! What do you think Heaven looks like?"
Me: "I think it is probably the most beautiful place we will have ever laid our eyes on."
Griffin: "Yeah. I think so too. And I think it is probably sparkly."
Me: "Me too! Definitely sparkly!"
And that was that. Almost made me flat out cry. Tears did well-up in my eyes. But I held them back. What an amazing child he is.
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Something I have really been thinking about lately is concepts. Because from concepts we then build beliefs. If my concept of the church is that it is filled with hypocrites then my belief might be that religion is not important....finding a church is not impactful to me. I don't need church in my life.
If I conceptualize Jesus as a man, then don't I forget that he was once a baby, a child, a teenager, a young adult, and THEN a man. I mean think about it....surely as a child growing up he would have gotten hurt both physically and emotionally. Surely he had sadness in his life for which he would have to come to grips with. Looking at his life from the awkwardness of youth, maybe he even had bad acne at one time, and lips his face had to grow into. Who knows! But he was a teenager and he was human! What a concept, huh?! Imperfection. Even God would have allowed for these things to occur. He would need to limit His role in the life of His son so that Jesus could have a fully human experience. Interesting concept, isn't it?
Now, when you pray, do you visualize a picture of God? Do you visualize a picture of Jesus? And if so, what do you picture them like? Speaking of just Jesus....what sort of Jesus do you envision? Is it Jesus the carpenter? Jesus the teacher ministering to his flock? Or Jesus in his death as he hangs from the cross?
I find it really funny that I have never thought of Jesus as a baby! At least not really. I have always visualized him in my prayers at the age of his death. As a man. This concept of Jesus as a baby reminded me of the movie Talladega Nights. The main character Ricky Bobby is over and over again praying to "Dear Lord Baby Jesus".......so funny! Cracked me up each time he did this!! At one point in the movie, there's a scene where someone at the dinner table says to him, "He was a man! He had a beard!" And Ricky Bobby says, "I like the baby version the best!"
But he was a baby! He was a toddler. He was a young child. Oh my gosh! He was totally human in every way! He grew in the same ways that we all do. He didn't just come out a baby and then in ten years become a man, freakishly dispalying the fact that he was maybe "not of this world". No, he grew in every way that we do. The only oddity of his birth was that his mother immaculately conceived him. But Joseph was no less his earthly teacher and father. And no less proud of Jesus in his every endeavor. Yet, I'm sure Joseph was also no less admonishing of him each time he did something "dangerous" or "without thinking" for Joseph was human too.
Jesus was not privileged, at least not in the way we typically use the word. No, he didn't grow up in wealth. He didn't grow up in a metropolis. He didn't grow up with the famous. He grew up, seemingly insignificantly. And, yet, He changed our world forever.
These realities have really helped me, lately. Knowing that when I see my role as insignificant, I am wrong. When I see the children within my reach as normal and regular, I am wrong. When I see the people I come into contact with as purposeless and without bearing on myself or my family or my world, I am wrong.
Jesus was an infant, a boy, and a man. Every experience he had in life, and every person he encountered in his upbringing molded him and brought him to his destiny. Oh how it must have felt to have been his neighbor. To see how he changed the world. And to be able to say, "I knew that man when he was just a boy!"
But the concept hasn't changed. We make an impact on everyone around us. From our peers, to the kids our kids interact with, to our co-workers.....everyone. And the concept that we are all creating a history not only for ourselves but for everyone we come in contact with, is wow, monumental! And it started with us when we were babies.
Conceptualize with me this world: every person around me has value and is worthy of Me at my best. Not to say you are not allowed to have moods other than happiness. But, what if.....what if you decided that just as Jesus wasn't always a man, neither were we. If you have wrongs that were done to you in your past....make peace with them. If there are people in your life who are hurting you with their words or actions, while you hide behind "acceptance", get honest with them.
Conceptualize one last thing......You are at peace. The people who have wronged you have been forgiven, and don't forget forgiveness does not mean you condone their actions. The hurting that others continue doing to you has been brought to them. And their decision to either correct or continue behaviors has either kept them in your life or has cut them out of your life, but you are at peace.
If I conceptualize a world where my mark IS a lasting one then all of a sudden I understand relationships and their value. I understand healing. I understand forgiveness. I understand the need for the community of church in my life and I feel happiness. The question is, are you deserving of that concept?
Okay, it was raining yesterday and I was driving Griffin home from his tutor.
Griffin: "It's raining. It's like God is taking a shower."
Me: "That's funny! Where'd you here that from, Honey?"
Griffin: "It's in the Bible...it's a Bible verse."
Me: "Oh it is, huh? Hmmmm, I never heard that one. I'm glad you told me."
Then I started thinking about something we were talking about in our Sunday School Class. So I said....
Me: "So, you think God takes showers? What do you think, then, that God looks like?"
Griffin: "Oh, he has long hair. And he wears a blue...ummmm...."
Me: "Robe?"
Griffin: "Yeah, a robe. It's blue. And he wears black sandals. Oh, and his hair is brown. And he sits in a chair in Heaven."
Me: "Well, then, what do you think Jesus looks like?"
Griffin: "Oh, Jesus? Oh, well, he's got shorter hair. And he wears a red robe, and black sandals. And his hair is brown and he's peach."
Me: "Peach. You think Jesus is peach?"
Griffin: "Yeah. What do you think God and Jesus looks like?"
Me: "Well, I really have no idea what God looks like. None. But, Jesus. Well, we know that he was Middle Eastern. So, I would guess he was more brown than peach."
Griffin: "Huh. Well, I guess we'll find out when we go to Heaven. We'll meet 'em then! What do you think Heaven looks like?"
Me: "I think it is probably the most beautiful place we will have ever laid our eyes on."
Griffin: "Yeah. I think so too. And I think it is probably sparkly."
Me: "Me too! Definitely sparkly!"
And that was that. Almost made me flat out cry. Tears did well-up in my eyes. But I held them back. What an amazing child he is.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Something I have really been thinking about lately is concepts. Because from concepts we then build beliefs. If my concept of the church is that it is filled with hypocrites then my belief might be that religion is not important....finding a church is not impactful to me. I don't need church in my life.
If I conceptualize Jesus as a man, then don't I forget that he was once a baby, a child, a teenager, a young adult, and THEN a man. I mean think about it....surely as a child growing up he would have gotten hurt both physically and emotionally. Surely he had sadness in his life for which he would have to come to grips with. Looking at his life from the awkwardness of youth, maybe he even had bad acne at one time, and lips his face had to grow into. Who knows! But he was a teenager and he was human! What a concept, huh?! Imperfection. Even God would have allowed for these things to occur. He would need to limit His role in the life of His son so that Jesus could have a fully human experience. Interesting concept, isn't it?
Now, when you pray, do you visualize a picture of God? Do you visualize a picture of Jesus? And if so, what do you picture them like? Speaking of just Jesus....what sort of Jesus do you envision? Is it Jesus the carpenter? Jesus the teacher ministering to his flock? Or Jesus in his death as he hangs from the cross?
I find it really funny that I have never thought of Jesus as a baby! At least not really. I have always visualized him in my prayers at the age of his death. As a man. This concept of Jesus as a baby reminded me of the movie Talladega Nights. The main character Ricky Bobby is over and over again praying to "Dear Lord Baby Jesus".......so funny! Cracked me up each time he did this!! At one point in the movie, there's a scene where someone at the dinner table says to him, "He was a man! He had a beard!" And Ricky Bobby says, "I like the baby version the best!"
But he was a baby! He was a toddler. He was a young child. Oh my gosh! He was totally human in every way! He grew in the same ways that we all do. He didn't just come out a baby and then in ten years become a man, freakishly dispalying the fact that he was maybe "not of this world". No, he grew in every way that we do. The only oddity of his birth was that his mother immaculately conceived him. But Joseph was no less his earthly teacher and father. And no less proud of Jesus in his every endeavor. Yet, I'm sure Joseph was also no less admonishing of him each time he did something "dangerous" or "without thinking" for Joseph was human too.
Jesus was not privileged, at least not in the way we typically use the word. No, he didn't grow up in wealth. He didn't grow up in a metropolis. He didn't grow up with the famous. He grew up, seemingly insignificantly. And, yet, He changed our world forever.
These realities have really helped me, lately. Knowing that when I see my role as insignificant, I am wrong. When I see the children within my reach as normal and regular, I am wrong. When I see the people I come into contact with as purposeless and without bearing on myself or my family or my world, I am wrong.
Jesus was an infant, a boy, and a man. Every experience he had in life, and every person he encountered in his upbringing molded him and brought him to his destiny. Oh how it must have felt to have been his neighbor. To see how he changed the world. And to be able to say, "I knew that man when he was just a boy!"
But the concept hasn't changed. We make an impact on everyone around us. From our peers, to the kids our kids interact with, to our co-workers.....everyone. And the concept that we are all creating a history not only for ourselves but for everyone we come in contact with, is wow, monumental! And it started with us when we were babies.
Conceptualize with me this world: every person around me has value and is worthy of Me at my best. Not to say you are not allowed to have moods other than happiness. But, what if.....what if you decided that just as Jesus wasn't always a man, neither were we. If you have wrongs that were done to you in your past....make peace with them. If there are people in your life who are hurting you with their words or actions, while you hide behind "acceptance", get honest with them.
Conceptualize one last thing......You are at peace. The people who have wronged you have been forgiven, and don't forget forgiveness does not mean you condone their actions. The hurting that others continue doing to you has been brought to them. And their decision to either correct or continue behaviors has either kept them in your life or has cut them out of your life, but you are at peace.
If I conceptualize a world where my mark IS a lasting one then all of a sudden I understand relationships and their value. I understand healing. I understand forgiveness. I understand the need for the community of church in my life and I feel happiness. The question is, are you deserving of that concept?
Friday, July 17, 2009
Dinner Tonight!
This is the Archer Farms California Chicken Salad that is sold in the refrigerated deli section of Target stores across the country. I first had this salad a few months ago, and I now eat this salad about once every couple of weeks....I LOVE IT!!!
It's a really simple salad....really simple. But the flavors are AMAZING!!! So, of course, you know me I make it for myself now! Thanks Archer Farms!
We're having company for dinner tonight and this salad is what I will be serving! The boys will probably not eat it....looks like hot dogs for them! Thought I would share the ingredients with all of you because you just really should try this salad! YUMMMMM!
California Chicken Salad
Romaine Lettuce
Dried Cherries
Feta Cheese crumbles
Walnuts
Grilled Chicken (or baked, or chicken nuggets you've zapped in the microwave, whatever, just some sort of chicken)
Poppy Seed Dressing (tonight we will be using Sweet Vidalia Onion Dressing that I bought a gallon of at Sam's, or close to it....but it IS completely delicious and probably will not last long in our house!)
Just combine all the ingredients and enjoy!
I will be serving ours with a nice white wine and a loaf of toasty hot french bread.....mmmmm...
C'mon Over! I bought ALL of the ingredients at Sam's so you know I have plenty!! :)
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Daddy's Boy
Why Wyatt is exactly his father.
1) He looks exactly like him.....I mean identical....except for the blond hair...he is a mini-me, er Mini-Dan, I mean! :)
2) He can be so serious. I need to get a picture to add to this post so you can see side by side how they both furrow their brows. Just know that in a 1 year old, a furrowed brow is HIGHLY comical!
3) Ice Cream. Last night I let him have some ice cream. And might I state for the record that he would not let me feed him. WOULD NOT! I was not allowed to hold the spoon at all.....I practically couldn't even look at it! He'd watch me, if I touched the spoon he would shake his head vigourously back and forth a hundred times saying "No No No" the whole time. If I left the spoon alone but watched him he would point his finger at me and say "No, No, No"....and when I left him alone with the bowl, he got frustrated with the spoon, used his hands and then, finally, drank the ice cream from the bowl....his forehead, cheeks, nose, chin, tummy, and mouth were ice cream coated...but he was in heaven! Just as his father is when he eats ice cream! (Though Dan is slightly less messy......slightly.)
4) Sweaty. This kid sweats. It is not a little glistening on the forehead or skin that is a tad bit clammy....no, he is like soaking wet hair, skin slick with perspiration, and harder to hold onto than a greased pig! When he gets like this, if he falls down on the floor, he'll get up and have stuff stuck to his sweaty legs and belly. It's like, "Oops! How'd that happen? Oh, hey, I found this Cheerio for you!" Not going to say Dan has ever had Cheerio's stuck to him after laying on the floor (though he probably has, he's just never offered me one) but that guy is sweaty! Not stinky sweaty though. That would be hard to live with....No, just sweaty, lots of sweat, sweaty! And so is Wyatt. Two peas in one sweaty pod!
5) Lastly, he's a night owl! This is something he without a doubt 100% gets from his father! It's like he gets a second wind around 7:30-8:00 when I am trying to wind him down he is winding up! Last night I spent an hour and a half rocking him trying to get him settled. Only to have his Dad walk in the door at 8:45 and Wyatt to leap from my arms...."It's on!" That hour plus of togetherness was just a farce! He was just pacifying me! "Yeah, I'll sit here quietly, but I'm just resting up...that second wind is comin'!" He and his Dad had a sandwich together, ate some chips, played on the floor, etc. Then, Dan and I spent the better part of an hour watching him do this Michael Flattley Lord of the Dance move while spinning himself silly, over and over again! HUH-LARRY-US!!!! I fell asleep at 10:30....there's no telling what time he finally did. But Daddy was awake....he put him to sleep. Daddy's always awake longer than Mommie.....thus Wyatt is just like his Dad!
I know there are definite characteristics that Wyatt gets from me like some of his silliness and his love for dancing......but, truly, Wyatt is his Daddy's boy!
1) He looks exactly like him.....I mean identical....except for the blond hair...he is a mini-me, er Mini-Dan, I mean! :)
2) He can be so serious. I need to get a picture to add to this post so you can see side by side how they both furrow their brows. Just know that in a 1 year old, a furrowed brow is HIGHLY comical!
3) Ice Cream. Last night I let him have some ice cream. And might I state for the record that he would not let me feed him. WOULD NOT! I was not allowed to hold the spoon at all.....I practically couldn't even look at it! He'd watch me, if I touched the spoon he would shake his head vigourously back and forth a hundred times saying "No No No" the whole time. If I left the spoon alone but watched him he would point his finger at me and say "No, No, No"....and when I left him alone with the bowl, he got frustrated with the spoon, used his hands and then, finally, drank the ice cream from the bowl....his forehead, cheeks, nose, chin, tummy, and mouth were ice cream coated...but he was in heaven! Just as his father is when he eats ice cream! (Though Dan is slightly less messy......slightly.)
4) Sweaty. This kid sweats. It is not a little glistening on the forehead or skin that is a tad bit clammy....no, he is like soaking wet hair, skin slick with perspiration, and harder to hold onto than a greased pig! When he gets like this, if he falls down on the floor, he'll get up and have stuff stuck to his sweaty legs and belly. It's like, "Oops! How'd that happen? Oh, hey, I found this Cheerio for you!" Not going to say Dan has ever had Cheerio's stuck to him after laying on the floor (though he probably has, he's just never offered me one) but that guy is sweaty! Not stinky sweaty though. That would be hard to live with....No, just sweaty, lots of sweat, sweaty! And so is Wyatt. Two peas in one sweaty pod!
5) Lastly, he's a night owl! This is something he without a doubt 100% gets from his father! It's like he gets a second wind around 7:30-8:00 when I am trying to wind him down he is winding up! Last night I spent an hour and a half rocking him trying to get him settled. Only to have his Dad walk in the door at 8:45 and Wyatt to leap from my arms...."It's on!" That hour plus of togetherness was just a farce! He was just pacifying me! "Yeah, I'll sit here quietly, but I'm just resting up...that second wind is comin'!" He and his Dad had a sandwich together, ate some chips, played on the floor, etc. Then, Dan and I spent the better part of an hour watching him do this Michael Flattley Lord of the Dance move while spinning himself silly, over and over again! HUH-LARRY-US!!!! I fell asleep at 10:30....there's no telling what time he finally did. But Daddy was awake....he put him to sleep. Daddy's always awake longer than Mommie.....thus Wyatt is just like his Dad!
I know there are definite characteristics that Wyatt gets from me like some of his silliness and his love for dancing......but, truly, Wyatt is his Daddy's boy!
Thursday, July 9, 2009
If I Only Had An "S"
Desert....Dessert
Fast....Feast
Only a single letter makes them completely different words...opposites if you will.
To fast, to go without food. To feast, to openly engorge in it.
Desert a barren waste land....rich of nothing. Dessert an oppulent treat at the end of a meal....extra.
You know I like to think of dessert as extra because a dessert isn't necessary. Dinner yes. Food to sustain me, yes. Dessert, an indulgence!
But how strange, how curious that the two are just one letter away. Desert is one 's' away from richness. Barren and desolate....but if I just had one more 's' I could be something else all together!
I started thinking about these words in my Esther class. When Beth Moore asks us students if anyone had noticed the contrasts between feasting and fasting. In the first part of this book of the bible, everyone is feasting. And even the day that the King's edict is sent out is a day of feasts for the Jews. The exact day this doctrine goes out, is the Jewish day of Passover. The largest and most celebrated holiday in their community....a day of feasting. On that day, Esther asks that all the Jews of Susa gather and fast for 3 days and 3 nights. On this day of feasts, she asks them to fast. I wonder how many Jews were thinking, "We were supposed to be feasting, not fasting!" Wow. They were just one letter away!
You have to really wonder. You have to wonder how many times we see our lives as just one second away from greatness...or one swing away from champions...or one chromosone away from perfection. And we mull it over. Over and over....."What could have been!?!"
But here is my question for you......Why isn't the reality we are given perfection?
Why do you think that these lessons in perceived failure aren't your perfect life?
We are each given a life of imperfection. That is a known going into the world. Hang-up your thoughts of Prince Charming and Cinderella....they do not exist. We are all imperfect. Beautifully! I bet there is not even one of us who would disagree. But, how much do you really allow yourself to believe? Or better yet, how often do you thank God for the desert and not the dessert?
Isn't a dessert extra anyway?
Just some thoughts....hope those of us out there yearning for that 's' might start realizing that deserts are a gift too. Happy Thursday!
Fast....Feast
Only a single letter makes them completely different words...opposites if you will.
To fast, to go without food. To feast, to openly engorge in it.
Desert a barren waste land....rich of nothing. Dessert an oppulent treat at the end of a meal....extra.
You know I like to think of dessert as extra because a dessert isn't necessary. Dinner yes. Food to sustain me, yes. Dessert, an indulgence!
But how strange, how curious that the two are just one letter away. Desert is one 's' away from richness. Barren and desolate....but if I just had one more 's' I could be something else all together!
I started thinking about these words in my Esther class. When Beth Moore asks us students if anyone had noticed the contrasts between feasting and fasting. In the first part of this book of the bible, everyone is feasting. And even the day that the King's edict is sent out is a day of feasts for the Jews. The exact day this doctrine goes out, is the Jewish day of Passover. The largest and most celebrated holiday in their community....a day of feasting. On that day, Esther asks that all the Jews of Susa gather and fast for 3 days and 3 nights. On this day of feasts, she asks them to fast. I wonder how many Jews were thinking, "We were supposed to be feasting, not fasting!" Wow. They were just one letter away!
You have to really wonder. You have to wonder how many times we see our lives as just one second away from greatness...or one swing away from champions...or one chromosone away from perfection. And we mull it over. Over and over....."What could have been!?!"
But here is my question for you......Why isn't the reality we are given perfection?
Why do you think that these lessons in perceived failure aren't your perfect life?
We are each given a life of imperfection. That is a known going into the world. Hang-up your thoughts of Prince Charming and Cinderella....they do not exist. We are all imperfect. Beautifully! I bet there is not even one of us who would disagree. But, how much do you really allow yourself to believe? Or better yet, how often do you thank God for the desert and not the dessert?
Isn't a dessert extra anyway?
Just some thoughts....hope those of us out there yearning for that 's' might start realizing that deserts are a gift too. Happy Thursday!
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Grant
Grant has a recent obsession....Well, maybe obsession is not the right word....serious interest, is probably better. Grant has a serious interest in BOOBS, lately.
His boobs, your boobs, his brothers' boobs, his dad's boobs, my bras, everything about boobs is just fascinating to him!
Several weeks ago, we were at the pool with some friends. I was in line for a snow cone with Grant and our friend's little girl. Grant turns around and says, "See my boobies?!" to the little girl with us.
She looks at him like, "Super...yeah, I see them, super great....where's my snow cone?!"
When she doesn't respond, he gets even closer to her and while pushing in his nipples with the index finger of each hand he says, "See um? See my bobbies???"
He does this three times! I say to him on the second, "Grant, yes, we see your boobies...quit it!!"
Third time comes....."See my boobies? You see um?"
The little girl, you can see, is thinking, He is not going to leave me alone about these boobies until I acknowledge him. So, she says, "Yeah...I see um."
Grant grins from ear to ear, like, "Yeah, that's right! I have boobies!!!"
In the middle of the night two nights ago, Grant wakes up and is making a HUGE fuss! And as we all know, Grant was not given the quiet gene. He is dialed into only Loud and LOUDER!!!
So, because I wish to get some rest out of this evening, I scoot little loud-mouth from his room where we leave a still sleeping, Thank God, Wyatt to rest peacefully.
I take Grant into our bed and we go back to sleep. In the morning he wakes up, and dashes from my bed......only to run down the hall and scream, "WYATT!!! You 'WAKE?!?!"
"MOMMMM! WYATT WAKE UP!! HE WAKED UP!!!"
He sure did! Couldn't have anything to do with all the yelling, could it?!
I gather up Wyatt and scootch them both into the kitchen where I set them at the table and fix their cereal. Yes that's right, scootch, I'm sure it's a word, I use it all the time! Thus, it's a word! After I get them settled, I jump into the shower, jump out of the shower, run down the hallway, dress for the day like I was in a race, and within 10 minutes from my kitchen departure, I'm back.
Entering the kitchen Grant gives me a very perplexed look.
"Momma.....You got your boobies?"
"Yes, honey...yes, I have my boobies."
"Momma. No, I go get your boobies!"
Me not understanding.... "What? Honey, what? Yes, of course I already have my boobies...right here, can't take 'em off." Though, at times I realize it looks as if they aren't there because they are slowly disappearing off of my body....I swear I DID have boobs at one time...I did! Promise!
Grant just looks at me and says, "No, I go get your boobies!"
With that, he runs into our bedroom and over to my side of the bed. I find him there desperately searching for something.
That's when I realize I had taken my bra off and laid it on the chair next to my bed the night before. Grant must've noticed it there when he got out of our bed this morning before running down the hallway bellerin' for Wyatt.
I say to him, "Oh, honey....were you looking for Mommy's bra? Mommy has it on already."
"No you don't!"
"Yes, yes I do!"
"No you not! It was right here!"
You know what's coming next, right?! I have to convince him that I have it, right?! So, I lift my shirt up to show him that I do indeed have the bra on.
As he sees it on me, you see the tension noticeably melt from his shoulders.
"Ahhh, there's your boobies! Right there!"
Now, this morning, Grant wakes up from his bed and is standing in the hallway, "Momma! I wake up!!!!! MOMMA!!!!"
"Okay, Grant, Okay, here I come....hush baby! Hush, you're going to wake up Wyatt!'
Now, after I get him settled in to watch Batman....I jump in the shower. 'Nother quick one, because just like I can't trust he and his brother at the kitchen table by themselves, I also cannot trust Grant up in the living room by himself. It's quite normal to be in the shower for all of 2 minutes when you hear the slamming of the bathroom door opening and a little boy yelling, "Momma! Wyatt just WAKE UP!" And in the background Wyatt's wailing away! Why?! ....hmm.... I wonder....Oh, probably because his brother went in their room and scared the dickens out of him by yelling, "WAKE UP WYATT!!!!"
But, this morning, all was well, no screaming baby and no screaming Grant...Grant was just amusing himself in the recliner by putting his feet where his head should be while rocking in the chair...big shock, I know, Grant rocking!!
Anyway, just as soon as he sees me he says, "You got your boobies?"
"Yes honey, I got 'em"
"Momma, I got no shirt...you see my bobbies? My boobies right here!" as he points to his chest.
"Yep! I see um!"
"Momma! I go get your boobies!!"
And, off he darts down the hallway, around to my side of the bed, and sure enough, there is my bra sitting on the chair (I guess I'm a creature of habit). He hands me my bra, and says, "Momma, put on your boobies!"
This might not seem like a big deal, but I'm just from the shower...and I'm not the most comfortable in my own skin!!! Clothing...I'm comfortable in CLOTHING! But, I feel like, okay, he is 2 and he has no understanding of sexuality or anything at this point, so, geesh, put the bra on Carrie!
I oblige him and put the bra on.
He just smiles so satisfactorily and says, "Now Momma, you wear your boobies all day!"
"Okay honey...Mommy will!"
To which he then runs off down the hall holding his own boobies in opposing hands.
What am I gonna do with this boy?!?!?
His boobs, your boobs, his brothers' boobs, his dad's boobs, my bras, everything about boobs is just fascinating to him!
Several weeks ago, we were at the pool with some friends. I was in line for a snow cone with Grant and our friend's little girl. Grant turns around and says, "See my boobies?!" to the little girl with us.
She looks at him like, "Super...yeah, I see them, super great....where's my snow cone?!"
When she doesn't respond, he gets even closer to her and while pushing in his nipples with the index finger of each hand he says, "See um? See my bobbies???"
He does this three times! I say to him on the second, "Grant, yes, we see your boobies...quit it!!"
Third time comes....."See my boobies? You see um?"
The little girl, you can see, is thinking, He is not going to leave me alone about these boobies until I acknowledge him. So, she says, "Yeah...I see um."
Grant grins from ear to ear, like, "Yeah, that's right! I have boobies!!!"
In the middle of the night two nights ago, Grant wakes up and is making a HUGE fuss! And as we all know, Grant was not given the quiet gene. He is dialed into only Loud and LOUDER!!!
So, because I wish to get some rest out of this evening, I scoot little loud-mouth from his room where we leave a still sleeping, Thank God, Wyatt to rest peacefully.
I take Grant into our bed and we go back to sleep. In the morning he wakes up, and dashes from my bed......only to run down the hall and scream, "WYATT!!! You 'WAKE?!?!"
"MOMMMM! WYATT WAKE UP!! HE WAKED UP!!!"
He sure did! Couldn't have anything to do with all the yelling, could it?!
I gather up Wyatt and scootch them both into the kitchen where I set them at the table and fix their cereal. Yes that's right, scootch, I'm sure it's a word, I use it all the time! Thus, it's a word! After I get them settled, I jump into the shower, jump out of the shower, run down the hallway, dress for the day like I was in a race, and within 10 minutes from my kitchen departure, I'm back.
Entering the kitchen Grant gives me a very perplexed look.
"Momma.....You got your boobies?"
"Yes, honey...yes, I have my boobies."
"Momma. No, I go get your boobies!"
Me not understanding.... "What? Honey, what? Yes, of course I already have my boobies...right here, can't take 'em off." Though, at times I realize it looks as if they aren't there because they are slowly disappearing off of my body....I swear I DID have boobs at one time...I did! Promise!
Grant just looks at me and says, "No, I go get your boobies!"
With that, he runs into our bedroom and over to my side of the bed. I find him there desperately searching for something.
That's when I realize I had taken my bra off and laid it on the chair next to my bed the night before. Grant must've noticed it there when he got out of our bed this morning before running down the hallway bellerin' for Wyatt.
I say to him, "Oh, honey....were you looking for Mommy's bra? Mommy has it on already."
"No you don't!"
"Yes, yes I do!"
"No you not! It was right here!"
You know what's coming next, right?! I have to convince him that I have it, right?! So, I lift my shirt up to show him that I do indeed have the bra on.
As he sees it on me, you see the tension noticeably melt from his shoulders.
"Ahhh, there's your boobies! Right there!"
Now, this morning, Grant wakes up from his bed and is standing in the hallway, "Momma! I wake up!!!!! MOMMA!!!!"
"Okay, Grant, Okay, here I come....hush baby! Hush, you're going to wake up Wyatt!'
Now, after I get him settled in to watch Batman....I jump in the shower. 'Nother quick one, because just like I can't trust he and his brother at the kitchen table by themselves, I also cannot trust Grant up in the living room by himself. It's quite normal to be in the shower for all of 2 minutes when you hear the slamming of the bathroom door opening and a little boy yelling, "Momma! Wyatt just WAKE UP!" And in the background Wyatt's wailing away! Why?! ....hmm.... I wonder....Oh, probably because his brother went in their room and scared the dickens out of him by yelling, "WAKE UP WYATT!!!!"
But, this morning, all was well, no screaming baby and no screaming Grant...Grant was just amusing himself in the recliner by putting his feet where his head should be while rocking in the chair...big shock, I know, Grant rocking!!
Anyway, just as soon as he sees me he says, "You got your boobies?"
"Yes honey, I got 'em"
"Momma, I got no shirt...you see my bobbies? My boobies right here!" as he points to his chest.
"Yep! I see um!"
"Momma! I go get your boobies!!"
And, off he darts down the hallway, around to my side of the bed, and sure enough, there is my bra sitting on the chair (I guess I'm a creature of habit). He hands me my bra, and says, "Momma, put on your boobies!"
This might not seem like a big deal, but I'm just from the shower...and I'm not the most comfortable in my own skin!!! Clothing...I'm comfortable in CLOTHING! But, I feel like, okay, he is 2 and he has no understanding of sexuality or anything at this point, so, geesh, put the bra on Carrie!
I oblige him and put the bra on.
He just smiles so satisfactorily and says, "Now Momma, you wear your boobies all day!"
"Okay honey...Mommy will!"
To which he then runs off down the hall holding his own boobies in opposing hands.
What am I gonna do with this boy?!?!?
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
On This Day In History
On this day in History:
1934: The NFL's Portsmouth Spartans become the Detroit Lions
1936: The 40-hour work week law is approved
1955: "Johnny Carson Show" debuts on CBS
1971: Ohio becomes 38th state to approve the lowered voting age of 18, thus ratifying the 26th amendment
1975: Location: Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia Heavyweight boxer Muhammad Ali defeats Joe Bugner in a 15 round unanimous decision fight (marking Ali's 48th career win)
And, most importantly, but with less significance in your look-up of "History Making Dates" a little boy is born to anxious and gleefully awaiting parents. He's over 9 lbs and healthy as an Ox! He comes into the world without the knowledge of his future, but he already has purpose. In his first few hours of life, love takes root in a way no other bond can as he suckles from the breast of his mother while the worries of Mother and Father are laid to rest as they see now that their prayers have been answered.
This baby will grow into a young lad filled with dreams and beliefs of things we know as adults to be impossible, but in our pre-school years seem totally and utterly within reach.
He will meet and exceed the expectations of his parents as God keeps blessing them year after year with the exuberant life that breathes from this boy.
His growing-up will bring him many places.....but the one I'm so selfishly grateful for is into the town of Jonesboro, Arkansas. Where he'll meet the girl whom he'll spend the rest of his life with.
Upon their meeting, she will remember thinking, "Is there more to this than chance?"
By far there is more to their meeting than chance. And, God will unite this boy and girl in matrimony, gracing their union with the birth of three marvelous little boys.
This boy is now a man, this day 33. Bringing joy, still, to the man and woman whose lives together as parents began at his birth. Bringing laughs, and smiles of appreciation, still, from a sister who has always looked up to her big brother. And, still, forming upward turned creases in the lips of his little men as he simply walks into the room.
Another year is here. Another anniversary of your birth. And you're STILL my comfort, my love, and my rock. I love you so much! Happy Birthday!
1934: The NFL's Portsmouth Spartans become the Detroit Lions
1936: The 40-hour work week law is approved
1955: "Johnny Carson Show" debuts on CBS
1971: Ohio becomes 38th state to approve the lowered voting age of 18, thus ratifying the 26th amendment
1975: Location: Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia Heavyweight boxer Muhammad Ali defeats Joe Bugner in a 15 round unanimous decision fight (marking Ali's 48th career win)
And, most importantly, but with less significance in your look-up of "History Making Dates" a little boy is born to anxious and gleefully awaiting parents. He's over 9 lbs and healthy as an Ox! He comes into the world without the knowledge of his future, but he already has purpose. In his first few hours of life, love takes root in a way no other bond can as he suckles from the breast of his mother while the worries of Mother and Father are laid to rest as they see now that their prayers have been answered.
This baby will grow into a young lad filled with dreams and beliefs of things we know as adults to be impossible, but in our pre-school years seem totally and utterly within reach.
He will meet and exceed the expectations of his parents as God keeps blessing them year after year with the exuberant life that breathes from this boy.
His growing-up will bring him many places.....but the one I'm so selfishly grateful for is into the town of Jonesboro, Arkansas. Where he'll meet the girl whom he'll spend the rest of his life with.
Upon their meeting, she will remember thinking, "Is there more to this than chance?"
By far there is more to their meeting than chance. And, God will unite this boy and girl in matrimony, gracing their union with the birth of three marvelous little boys.
This boy is now a man, this day 33. Bringing joy, still, to the man and woman whose lives together as parents began at his birth. Bringing laughs, and smiles of appreciation, still, from a sister who has always looked up to her big brother. And, still, forming upward turned creases in the lips of his little men as he simply walks into the room.
Another year is here. Another anniversary of your birth. And you're STILL my comfort, my love, and my rock. I love you so much! Happy Birthday!
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Behavior: Hard-ly My Fault, Right?
People are always asking me if it is hard to work a full-time job, raise three kids, be a wife, and a maid, and a short-order cook, and a party planner, and a, and a, and, and, and......
I have always looked at the person saying this and said, "Yes, it is hard....so hard, but I love my family and I will do what I need to do to make it all work." Now, let me add, what I don't say, "But not without complaining about it!"
I decided just the other day that I am going to change my vocabulary. I am going to take the word H-A-R-D out of my language not going to let it live in my head anymore. Nope...changing the word to C-H-A-L-L-E-N-G-I-N-G. Because hard makes it sound like I am unhappy with my "work", or it can imply that I expect pity, because "Oh, it's just so hard!"
When Griffin and I are working on his words and letters and all the nerdy sort of booky-things I love and he hates, the one thing he will tell me over and over is "This is too hard!"
Dan and I were at Sonic a few days ago when he pointed something out to me. I was sitting there watching these Car Hops roller skating all around and it was scaring me! I said to Dan, "This girl is freaking me out on these skates. She could get hit by a car so easily!"
Dan laughed and said, "If it weren't you sitting next to me, I would have sworn it was Griffin who just said that."
"Oh, I just sounded like Griffin huh....hmm, yeah I guess I did."
But, the truth is....He sounds like ME!
So, where does he get this, "It's too hard...I can't.....I never get to do what I want!" Where...hmm.....ME! The light bulb went off and I saw that anti-drug PSA from years back where the kid says, "I learned it by watching you!"
What I am putting-out....it's coming back to me. And here's something I know to be true, and something for which I have really been working on. When I am around people who are being negative, I will try very hard to stay on the high-ground, but, before I know it, I'm down in the muck, wallowing around with them. I'm reflecting their emotions. I'm emulating them.
It's like this....someone, maybe your husband, is upset with you. He says something like this, "Yeah, you know, you complain about cleaning but you aren't doing it every day. Just look around. Doesn't seem like you are keeping up very well." Okay.....most of us would launch into a tirade of, "Oh, yeah, you think it looks bad NOW....I can get it looking even worse. Want me to stop trying all together. Oh, and by the way, what are YOU doing to keep up around here?" etc, etc, etc.
Yipes! Talk about emulating! So, what if we did this instead, "I'm sorry. I suppose that complaining can get pretty old. Next time I am complaining, could we try this....put your hands on my shoulders, look me in the eyes and reassure me that Rome wasn't built in a day. Then, if you would, this will sound weird, but could you give me a compliment? You see, I'm trying really hard to turn off those negative, "This is too HARD!", voices and when I'm getting into that mode, I really think a compliment would help."
Wouldn't that take this obvious "fight" situation to a different place? Instead of you or I putting our gloves up in the air and readying ourselves for 12 rounds, we are taking the gloves off and giving our "opponent" a hug....a big bear hug! Saying, "I am so sorry you are frustrated....I get that way too....Let me help you"
That's what I need to do. My boys are the eyes and ears of what I am putting out into the world. And though they can be the sweetest, kindest, most loving children at times.....They can also be self-defeators, know-it-alls, and nothing-nice-to-sayers.
Gotta look in the mirror and see myself as the root of those too. Yeah, that's a hard image to see looking back, but it's mine. I'm the one who modeled that behavior, therefore "they learned it by watching me!"
I'm moving Hard into the storage closest. In it's place Challenging. I am taking the positive traits, what I see in myself, what I see in my kids, I am taking those positive characteristics and I'm amplifying them. No more, self-defeating, no more know-it-all (this will be difficult, I DO know a lot, but better to say, "I thought...", instead of "You said...." sounds so much nicer, huh?), and no more complaining! Letting words escape my mouth that will have a negative impact on what I want my kids to learn only makes parenting that much more CHALLENGING! See, I'm working on it!!!
I have always looked at the person saying this and said, "Yes, it is hard....so hard, but I love my family and I will do what I need to do to make it all work." Now, let me add, what I don't say, "But not without complaining about it!"
I decided just the other day that I am going to change my vocabulary. I am going to take the word H-A-R-D out of my language not going to let it live in my head anymore. Nope...changing the word to C-H-A-L-L-E-N-G-I-N-G. Because hard makes it sound like I am unhappy with my "work", or it can imply that I expect pity, because "Oh, it's just so hard!"
When Griffin and I are working on his words and letters and all the nerdy sort of booky-things I love and he hates, the one thing he will tell me over and over is "This is too hard!"
Dan and I were at Sonic a few days ago when he pointed something out to me. I was sitting there watching these Car Hops roller skating all around and it was scaring me! I said to Dan, "This girl is freaking me out on these skates. She could get hit by a car so easily!"
Dan laughed and said, "If it weren't you sitting next to me, I would have sworn it was Griffin who just said that."
"Oh, I just sounded like Griffin huh....hmm, yeah I guess I did."
But, the truth is....He sounds like ME!
So, where does he get this, "It's too hard...I can't.....I never get to do what I want!" Where...hmm.....ME! The light bulb went off and I saw that anti-drug PSA from years back where the kid says, "I learned it by watching you!"
What I am putting-out....it's coming back to me. And here's something I know to be true, and something for which I have really been working on. When I am around people who are being negative, I will try very hard to stay on the high-ground, but, before I know it, I'm down in the muck, wallowing around with them. I'm reflecting their emotions. I'm emulating them.
It's like this....someone, maybe your husband, is upset with you. He says something like this, "Yeah, you know, you complain about cleaning but you aren't doing it every day. Just look around. Doesn't seem like you are keeping up very well." Okay.....most of us would launch into a tirade of, "Oh, yeah, you think it looks bad NOW....I can get it looking even worse. Want me to stop trying all together. Oh, and by the way, what are YOU doing to keep up around here?" etc, etc, etc.
Yipes! Talk about emulating! So, what if we did this instead, "I'm sorry. I suppose that complaining can get pretty old. Next time I am complaining, could we try this....put your hands on my shoulders, look me in the eyes and reassure me that Rome wasn't built in a day. Then, if you would, this will sound weird, but could you give me a compliment? You see, I'm trying really hard to turn off those negative, "This is too HARD!", voices and when I'm getting into that mode, I really think a compliment would help."
Wouldn't that take this obvious "fight" situation to a different place? Instead of you or I putting our gloves up in the air and readying ourselves for 12 rounds, we are taking the gloves off and giving our "opponent" a hug....a big bear hug! Saying, "I am so sorry you are frustrated....I get that way too....Let me help you"
That's what I need to do. My boys are the eyes and ears of what I am putting out into the world. And though they can be the sweetest, kindest, most loving children at times.....They can also be self-defeators, know-it-alls, and nothing-nice-to-sayers.
Gotta look in the mirror and see myself as the root of those too. Yeah, that's a hard image to see looking back, but it's mine. I'm the one who modeled that behavior, therefore "they learned it by watching me!"
I'm moving Hard into the storage closest. In it's place Challenging. I am taking the positive traits, what I see in myself, what I see in my kids, I am taking those positive characteristics and I'm amplifying them. No more, self-defeating, no more know-it-all (this will be difficult, I DO know a lot, but better to say, "I thought...", instead of "You said...." sounds so much nicer, huh?), and no more complaining! Letting words escape my mouth that will have a negative impact on what I want my kids to learn only makes parenting that much more CHALLENGING! See, I'm working on it!!!
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