Empowered & Lucky....But Not Today

Multiple times, I have heard the following in reference to Landon's allergy

"I would be so afraid"

"I don't know how you deal with it"

"It is so scary"

and "How will you ever send him to school?"

And I have to be honest and say on most days, I don't feel scared or worried. I feel empowered and lucky. Yes, lucky. Lucky because God gave me this child who has opened my eyes to things I wouldn't have taken notice of before. I am grateful because if it weren't for Landon we would not be empathetic towards children with food allergies. I would not have knowledge of the importance of food labeling, food exclusion, or anaphylactic symptoms. On most days, I feel it is my responsibility to advocate, make others aware, and educate myself on food allergies not only on behalf of my child but on behalf of all the children who live with severe food allergies. I am also always well aware and grateful for the fact that although his food allergy is severe, he only lives with one and many children like him have multiple food allergies.

But today was not most days. Today, I didn't want to feel empowered. I didn't feel like explaining to another person about how Landon wouldn't be able to participate in certain school activities unless they were made safer.  I was sad that my 5 year old had to tell me he ate a candy that he wasn't supposed to eat even though his brother wasn't around. Frustrated that I had to check all of his candy to make sure it was okay to even bring home.  I watched all the Kindergartners hunting for their eggs knowing that when it's Landon's turn to participate in this activity, I will have to be there. I will have to check every piece of candy before he eats any of them and I will most likely have to take some away. The cupcakes that the children decorated today were so adorable and a fabulous activity but when Landon is in school unless I have made the cupcakes, he will not be able to eat them. And the M & M's that went on top, he will have to avoid. Was discouraged at the "Nut Free" tables in the cafeteria that were not labeled and were completely empty. Will he eat alone every day? Or do I have to worry he'll sit next to someone with a PB sandwich, which if touches his food and he eats it, he could die?

It is exhausting. Reminding, teaching, and being cautious. Sometimes it is exhausting to keep him safe. Many people don't understand why does it matter what his brother eats at school if he's not allergic. Because I have to be careful that he doesn't bring anything home that Landon could get into or eat. I have to constantly be thinking when situations happen how to ensure he doesn't come into contact with peanuts. We go to birthday parties and bring his own treats. We avoid restaurants that cook with peanut oil or serve dishes with peanuts. I pick up peanut butter candy wrappers and crackers I see on the floors or in grocery carts that people have left so that he doesn't put them in his mouth. Unexpected things happen all the time. Whenever I drop Landon off at Sunday School, MOPS, or Bible Study I have to ask what they are having for snack. I have to be sure that they are not offering anything other than the goldfish. I have to tell them every week, he is allergic to peanuts. And sometimes they will say, oh we are "just" having cupcakes. And then instead of explaining to them about traces or the dangers of eating from a bakery, I just simply tell them he is not allowed to have any. And then I feel bad because he will be without a treat.

This month there have been 3 incidents in the allergy community. Two deaths, and one in a coma.....all from peanut allergies. I had a dream the other night that someone gave Landon a white Reeses Peanut Butter Cup and he wasn't breathing and I was running with him to try and get him his epipen and he was laying lifeless in my arms. But the worst part of this nightmare is it could be true. Someday it could be true. And I know if he ever has severe reaction, I will feel completely at fault. And so I have to keep up my defenses and do everything I know how to do. Bore people with my allergy info, continually tell them why we can't eat certain places, or participate in specific activities. And it is at times exhausting.

He has also become a lot more aware this past month. He identifies Reeses and M& M's as things he can't eat. He is constantly talking about nuts or if something has nuts and "I can't eat that because it will make me sick".  This is bittersweet to me because it's refreshing in knowing he is beginning to truly understand and verbalize his allergy. But sad because he is beginning to realize he is different than his brothers, than us, than other people who can eat wherever and whatever they want.

And so today I don't feel like fighting. I don't feel like advocating. And I don't feel like explaining why just because something doesn't actually have peanuts, he can still have a reaction. Landon has been known to throw up, on more than one occasion, just from eating foods with traces of peanuts (meaning it could have been made on the same equipment or in the same facility).

Today I kept him safe but I was too tired to fight his battle. And on this day, I felt weak as I foresee how many more situations we will encounter, how many times I will be frustrated, and how many more times I will have to smile and be patient with others who look at me like I'm crazy. I know as he gets older, he will be able to be more responsible for his allergy. But sometimes that makes me tired too. Because that is my responsibility as well. Teaching him how to keep himself safe. Hoping he will be responsible enough to make those decisions. And so I write this so I don't forget at this moment what it feels like to be his mother. Just like I said when I wrote  The Nutty World I Live In/The Way I See It, I know there will be different stages.

 

For now, I allow myself to feel tired and discouraged. And tomorrow I will get up and continue to fight battles for him. Teaching others how to keep him safe, instructing them on what to do if he has a reaction, teaching my children to be empathetic to others who are different, and smiling and being patient with people who don't understand. And no matter how discouraged or weary I get, I praise God for Landon and the way he made him. I praise him for the fact that we have the opportunity to educate others and if we're lucky things could change for the better for him and for other children.

Landon wearing his "Peanut Free" sticker to church.







 

To Share Or Not To Share.....Oversharing

Hello my name is Kelly and I am an oversharer.

Seriously, I feel like it's a disease or something. I wonder if there is an OverSharer Anonymous Group, my husband would probably sign me up right away.  Maybe there's a 12 step program that can help me to not share everything from what I ate for breakfast to what my kids did or didn't do to what is just pouring out of my heart. This week I realized, I am an oversharer. I know, you're shocked right? I mean I write about my family and my own personal feelings and I'm addicted to social media. But somehow I just realized, I am an oversharer.

 

The fact that I can be an oversharer was actually a surprise to me. And this is because I am an introvert. That may be surprising to hear but really I am. I am not a people person, I do not like social gatherings......and all that other stuff that goes along with being an introvert. I'm happier with a good book, my computer, or a hot bath than good company. I know, it's sad. But true. And I didn't know introverts could be oversharers.......

I was getting my taxes done and the nice lady who was getting all of my information down was talking about her little boy. Her son is only about a month younger than Landon. So we were talking about boys, how busy they are, and all that good mom stuff. But you see this mom only has one child, only one boy. I have THREE boys. So she starts to tell me something then stops and then she says, " Oh, you'll understand. You're a mom too. " And she proceeds to tell me how her little boy had to go to the bathroom SO  bad when they were out that they had to just let him pee on a bush because there were no restrooms. The way she was acting, I thought she was going to tell me some horrendous thing her son had done. I almost started laughing, not because of what he did but because I was just picturing how my son had just pooped his pants at the park a few days before because he couldn't make it to the bathroom. Imagine if I had told her that story. Or what if I shared with her the time when my son started wiping his nose on my neighbors carpet, because I guess he thought it was a tissue. Or the time when my oldest son threw glass coasters at a friend's house and it shattered on her wood floor (Who owns glass coasters anyways?).  The time my 5 year old was taking bites of another kids' lunch or how about when my 3 year old told someone at a basketball game that he had an owie on his pee pee. I mean my kids are not horrible but let me tell you, they have given me a lifetime of embarrassing moments. But the way this other mom acted about telling me something so simple, made me realize I am a little open about what is happening in my life.

I have lots of friends that do not overshare. They rarely post a status to their facebook or a picture on their instagram. I have really good friends who do not even have a facebook account. Shocking. I know. And I am not only referring to social media when I talk about oversharing. I am also talking about candid conversation. Some people are not as open as others. And I respect privacy and people wanting to be private people. And just because I am an oversharer does not mean your secret is not safe with me. I am if nothing, a good secret keeper.

 

But occasionally I struggle with my desire to overshare. Why do I struggle? I struggle because I will think about other people and what they are or are not sharing. I try to put a gage on what is appropriate and what is not. Where is the line between friendly conversation, telling a friend something meaningful, and just letting your heart seep out to anyone who will listen?  I honestly don't know. I think it is a line that needs to be flexible. Flexible for different friends, different people, different circumstances, and perhaps different seasons in life.

 

At a bible study once, I heard a woman give this testimony. She threw it all out there and shared some of the most intimate moments of her life. I was in awe of  her strength, her courage, and her story. And I will never forget when we got up to leave, the girl next to me said, "Wow, I didn't know she was going to share all of THAT. That was kind of personal. " And it made me so sad. After all, if we can't share with other believers what ugliness God has used for his purpose than what good is the story he has given us.

 

Anyways, I don't have some great story. But I do know when I try to stifle myself from oversharing, when I attempt to tone down what is seeping from my heart, and when I try to keep too much inside ..... I don't feel like me anymore.

 

So in honor of being true to myself

I will continue to overshare...........

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The Girl At The Park

It is cold. It is wet. And it is raining outside today.

And I sit inside in my warm house, eating my dinner that was delivered to the front door, watching my kids play with more toys than they need, watching them run back and forth between their "play room" and their "preschool room", because all kids need to have an entire room for learning and art and another for "just" their toys.

 

But today, there is a girl who may or may not have shelter. If she was lucky she ate a warm meal or maybe there were enough kind people to give her money. And perhaps she used their spare change to buy herself some food. I wonder as it poured down rain last night if she had found a couch to crash on, or if she was still at the park. Still rummaging through her bag. Still standing there looking lost but yet with nowhere to go.  Telling people she was 27, when she couldn't have been a day over 20. Sticking out like a sore thumb in a park where her kind are never spotted.

 

I drove by the park today. I don't know why. I just wanted to know if she was still there, even though I knew all traces of her would be gone. Just a wet playground and a few city workers was all I could see. Why? Why do I care? I've encountered homeless people. I've dug around my purse to give spare change. Why was she any different?

 

I think she was different and if I would have asked more questions, perhaps I could have found out why. She wasn't there looking for a handout. When she asked for change she was hesitant and apologetic. When I offered to bring her food, she was surprised and thankful. She asked me to pray for her. She had a desperate look in her eye and she asked me to pray for her. I told her I would and she said God Bless you at least twice. She looked afraid but yet wise beyond her years. And maybe, just maybe she was under some kind of influence. Or it could have been that her body was yearning to take something to numb whatever feelings she was starting to feel. " I stay at friends' houses. I sleep on couches. I stay with strangers. But it's hard. You never know from one day to the next."

 

She seemed different but yet I believe she is the same, as the rest of her kind. There are so many others just like her. I know nothing of this girl's story. I can not even know if the parts that she told me are true. But what I do know is, whatever her situation, whatever the story is that got her there, the end result is still the same. She is broken, she is empty, and she is desperately sad.  

 

It doesn't matter if she is a drug addict.

It doesn't matter if she is an alcoholic.

It doesn't matter if she sells her body for money or drugs.

It doesn't matter if she is any of these things or worse.

 

So many times people want to judge people. It is part of our ugly human nature to want to size people up,put them into categories, make ourselves feel better. Allow our inside voices to tell us we could never be like them. We want to determine if they are worthy of our spare change, our help, our time. Often people evaluate people like this and their stories. I've heard of people not giving their change or a handout to someone because they know they were scamming them or they were going to use the money for drugs or alcohol. But what if God gave out his grace in this same way? What if he took the time to evaluate if we were in "real" need or if we "deserved" it? I don't know about you but I don't think I'd be on the "worthy" list.

 

So I don't care if she was any of those things or worse. And I won't care if the next person is any of those things either. Whatever situation brings you to be so broken, empty, and hopeless that you are at a childrens' park asking for money with only a duffel bag means that you need grace. And yes her kind need God's grace but they also need.....our grace, our acceptance, our love, our non-judgement.

 

Isn't that what we all want? And isn't that exactly what he calls us to do?

Matthew³⁵ For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, ³⁶ I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’ ³⁷ “Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? ³⁸ When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? ³⁹ When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’⁴⁰ “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’

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Supermom & Her Cape

After two days of being home; I had packed lunches, made dinners, helped with homework, had a dentist apt, took the 3 year old to gymnastics, forgot to be the tooth fairy AGAIN,studied AWANA verses, went grocery shopping after reorganizing all my coupons, and paid bills. Guess you could say my mini vacation is over.  But what I've done in the past few days is only what all Supermoms do EVERY DAY.  In fact, I do less than most Supermoms I know in a given week. So you'd think we'd all be willing to hang up that cape any chance we get right? .......

Not most Supermoms I know. Just kind of got to thinking,  why do we hang onto that cape so tightly?

Last weekend, I attended a retreat with my sister. You could choose from a variety of workshops. I chose the perfect one just for HER! When I picked it, I was simply thinking of what I thought she needed.  I felt like God was going to speak directly to her heart on her busyness, how much she takes on, and so forth. Sigh......God's always going to blindside us when we allow ourselves to think we've got something under control.

The workshop was titled along the lines, " Superwoman, Take That Cape Off ".  The teacher was this amazing, sassy African American woman who had us laughing every few minutes as she spoke truth after truth. The first part was about why women feel that can't say no and the reasons that cause us to take on too much such as guilt, and pride.  She spoke of her own personal story on how she overextended herself and how it spiraled out of control. Now remember, this class was for my sister. As I sat there,  I was hearing the teacher and enjoying her lecture along with the class discussion. But my ears were not open. I was hearing but I was not listening.

You see, I had done the same thing this woman had done at one point in my life. And so as she went through everything, I just kept thinking; Yep, I've been there. I've learned these lessons already. I am able to say no. I am able to prioritize my time. I do not overextend or sign up for things or fill up my schedule with too many "extras" just because I feel like I should. I pray on things before I commit. I am a new person. Sigh....this was only a part of the lesson she was teaching.

Towards the end of my trip and when I got home, I realized my family was doing just fine without me. Things were just plugging along as normal and the husband was handling it all. The meals, the basketball games, the practices, bedtime battles, the sibling rivalry, and all the other things I usually handle when I'm wearing my Supercape. There was a tinge of disappointment that all had been under control.  But I had to search my heart as to why I felt this way and I couldn't quite pinpoint it.

Until I remembered,  what the sassy Superwoman workshop teacher had said.

She had said that sometimes we do not take off our cape or we take on all the responsibility because we think no one else can do it as well as we can. PRIDE........

After this light bulb moment, I could see myself  making the "list" for my husband. The "list" with drop off & pick up times, the multiple supplements & vitamins that they must take, what bills to mail, and the times & days for anything extracurricular. The grocery shopping I did so that my family would have food & meals planned for the 5 days I was gone. All of this created a lot of stress the few days before I left. Preparing everything to be done ......MY WAY.   When in reality, my husband went grocery shopping to make whatever meals he wanted and if none of those things on my list happened correctly.....all would have still been well.

Another reason given for wanting to "do everything" was the need to feel needed. That women desire to feel needed. Honestly, I am surprised this came to my mind later because at the time, I remember distinctively shrugging this one off completely. Thinking to myself that I do not do things to feel needed that was just simply silly. I was not one of those girls who needed self recognition or needed to be noticed for doing things. Hmmmm......but when I got home I think my feelings were a little hurt because I didn't feel needed. It didn't matter that I wasn't there to do those things, they didn't need me. All was well without Supermom. Dad was wearing the cape just fine.

Sometimes God just likes to whop us upside the head with character flaws, such as pride and insecurity. It's funny how those character traits can intertwine.  Anyways, when I got back I had to put that Supermom cape back on pretty fast. It has been an incredibly busy week. But do you know that I have had so much more patience, more energy, more love, and just more fun with my kids than I have in a long time? Amazing how a little break can help you feel so rejuvenated.

You see this is my theory. If us Supermoms choose to wear our cape ALL of the time. If we think that we are the only ones who can do it, believe our way is the best way, that things will fall apart, or we won't feel fulfilled or needed just because we take off our cape for a short while.... then our cape will become worn out. If we don't hang them up every once in awhile, our bright, shiny capes will become faded, tattered, and torn. How useful are we then? On the other hand, if we hang up that cape every once in awhile, give it to someone else to take care of, then it will stay better preserved and will be more useful to us when we put it back on.

Corny, I know. But I believe it to be truth.

Here are some pictures from my trip. My husband took awesome care of my cape and I'm back home ready to wear it again. And to my beautiful sister, I had the most amazing time. True sister time is always rejuvenation to the soul.

Getting ready to fly alone for the first time ever.

Mom and daughters getting a massage.

At our retreat, where they served wine!

My beautiful sister. She has the largest heart of anyone I know.

My forever momento. Sisterhood momento. And a daily reminder of my faith. Love!

Courage Takes Flight

I do not like to fly. No let me say that again. I HATE to fly. The first time I remember flying, I was fourteen. The next time I flew was when we traveled to Jamaica for our honeymoon. I wasn't so sure of our chances on the brightly colored airplane that seemed outdated by at least ten years. I remember vaguely holding on tightly to Curt's hand and knowing that we weren't coming home. Irrational, right? But that's how I am when I fly. On that particular trip, the plane felt like it was going to drop out of the sky at least 5 times. Curt kept telling me it was turbulence but I was convinced there was something wrong with the the plane's engine or some other important part that would keep the plane from staying in the sky or prevent us from landing safely.

After that I didn't fly for a very long time. One thing that doesn't help my fear of flying is that I have these awful dreams where I see an airplane crash or I am in the airplane that crashes. I have these dreams randomly, they don't always coincide with when I'm getting ready to fly. The whole thing is completely irrational.  I know it's irrational and my chances of being in a car accident are far greater than me being in an airplane crash. But my mind still has a hard time wrapping my head around the statistics. I get stomachaches, am not able to sleep, have bad dreams, and feel nauseated or anxious days before having to fly.

But I soon realized if I ever wanted to go anywhere exciting in life or see my family then I would need to get over my flying issues. The next time I flew, my oldest son was about 15 months old and we flew with my family and my sister's family. It was the first time I had flown since 911, which by the way had only compounded my fear of flying. I cried as the plane took off. I am not lying....... I cried. Not the embarrass my husband wailing kind of cry but my eyes filled up with tears. And on the return home........ I had a stomachache two days before we even had to leave. So, yes I hate flying. I don't like it, even a little bit.

Once, I told my friend that she could have my son's toys for her son if we didn't make it back. Oh goodness, I'm ridiculous. Then there was the time I was completely convinced a terrorist was on my plane. Seriously, I wanted to report it to the stewardess. There was a man wearing all black with tattooed letters on his fingers spelling H.A.T.E. And he kept reaching for his shoe and he was incredibly rude to people around him, was on his cell phone when he shouldn't have been. I know.....I'm completely irrational. For that entire flight I couldn't take my eyes off the "terrorist" that sat catercorner from me. I don't even think I ever told my husband because I was so embarrassed. But these are the crazy thoughts I have when I fly. I don't love being in crowds and so being in an airport and then on a plane is just about as horrendous as it gets for me. People who know me may be surprised to hear this because I'm normally an easy going person who is rational, most of the time.........hormonal times do not count.

My kids, up until recently, did not sit with me when we would fly. It was easier for my husband to take care of them as I felt petrified almost the entire flight. So they either sat with my husband or my dad or whoever else we suckered into flying with us. I also preferred them to sit with their dad because I didn't want them to inherit my anxiety or fear of flying. 

In the past 10 years, we have probably flown about 7 times. So I must be over my flying issues, right? No, not quite. You see now we have too many kids for dad to sit with them all. And actually, I find that taking care of the kids is a great distraction to my irrational thoughts. You have to pack a million snacks and toys for them, keep them occupied so they don't bother anyone else on the plane, worry about all the rude people giving you "the look" and  hoping you're not sitting next to them, and then of course there's the frequent bathroom breaks. I am an odd person who actually enjoys flying with my children because they distract me enough to lessen my insane thoughts. So I have gotten better but not "over " it.

My best trip was when I flew with (at the time) my 4 year old and my grandmother. It was the most peaceful flight I had ever had. If you knew my grandma, then you would know why. She was simply the most amazing person I ever knew. She had a sense of peace and calmness about her that I will always remember. And she always said if it was her time, then so be it. If it was God's will that the plane crash then that was God's will and she had said her prayers. Literally, she said her prayers on the plane. And when we landed her first words were Thank You Jesus. I love that woman. If she was alive today, I'd bet money that she'd be flying with me. I swear I was a better flier since I flew with her. When I grow up........(if that ever happens).... I want to be like my grandma who was not afraid to go anywhere. She was a woman who was always ready for the next adventure!

You see the thing is I LOVE our families more than I HATE flying.
 

Tonight I will fly for the first time in my entire life all by myself. I am on my way to have some sister R & R time. And it just so happens this week is proving I truly need the rejuvenation! There will be no husband, no dad, no grandma, and no kids. Just me.......all alone. And yes I started feeling yucky about flying a few days ago. And last night I felt a little panicky too. But I refuse to let it get to me because all I keep hearing is, " Do not be afraid. Be strong and courageous." I am going to have to live up to my ONE WORD today. And that's what I'm going to focus on. And of course prayer, the peace that is given when you give your anxiety to him can be amazing.

I don't want to just get to my destination this time, I want to enjoy the journey!.

After all; isn't that what life is all about, what I want to remember about parenting, and what I truly want my kids to learn? It's not always where we end up that counts but how we get there.

So my bags are packed and I'm ready to go and armed with all the courage I can muster up but I'd still love prayers for a peaceful and safe journey!!





 

Our family flying with my dad to North Carolina

Today I am sharing my post with:

 

 

Time To Color



Carson's Coloring

Carson was creating one of his many crafts today in the preschool room. Holidays lend themselves to extra craftiness for him and he was coloring on heart doilies that he will probably eventually give to our neighbor. I sat down next to him and started to color one of the Valentine pages in front of me. He stopped coloring for a minute and looked at me with questioning eyes.

 

Then he simply said, "Grown ups don't usually color."

 

And I asked him, " Why do you think grown ups don't color?"

 

His answer was simply this, " Well grown ups are busy. They have lots of things that they have to do."

 

I didn't really want to ask this next question but I did. So I asked, " What do you think grown ups are busy doing?"

 

He said, " Grown ups have to do things like make dinner. They have to clean the house. And they have to fold laundry and wash dishes and sometimes they get to drive to the store to buy the food to make for dinner."

 

Sigh. My son sees me as a grown up who is too busy to color. I wonder what else he thinks I am too busy to do.

 

What do you think I did for the next 20 minutes? I colored.

 

I wonder when I forgot to color? Was it when I was trying to save money at the grocery store, or attempting to make healthy dinners for my family or perhaps it was when I was focused on keeping the house picked up for my husband? Maybe I forgot how to color when I was paying the bills or helping with homework?

 

I think I need to learn to color again, it appears I may have forgotten.

 

P.S.

Please know this post has very little to do with coloring .......

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Courage: When Quitting Isn't the Same As Giving Up

When I wrote my post of my  ONE WORD and how it chose me, I wasn't thrilled about the word. And if you think you are going to read this post and get to the end to only realize I have fallen in love with my word.......well you should stop reading.

I still don't like my word. It's not an easy word. I was worried it would force me to do things I wouldn't normally do. Therefore making me uncomfortable in my very comfy world but it has had the opposite effect on me this month. It has become apparent to me that acting with courage not only encompasses doing hard things and embracing things that we would normally fear. But instead; courage can be taking out things that may be important to us, taking out the things that we know hold value in our life. Sometimes, courage can be knowing when it's okay to abandon our original plan.

So with that being said, I have quit something that is important to me. A  year and a half ago, when I quit my job I had just ended the busiest year of my life. Over involved, overextended, and I was over it all. God had asked me to simplify. I removed almost everything "extra" from our lives. I think the only activity my kids may have done was AWANAS and I said no to a lot of things.  I try to be careful what I commit to and what I allow my kids to become committed to. Whenever I added something new to our schedule or life it was after prayer and careful consideration. And this year, I have been able to say yes to many things. And it has been wonderful. But it is just in my nature to overextend, to want to do more and when I do that he kindly reminds me (usually through my health) that I need to do a recheck of the simplicity in my life.

I volunteer for CASA (Court Appointed Special Advocates).  Children who are assigned a CASA are either in foster homes, are back home but are returning home from a foster home, or are in group homes, etc.  I have a heart for advocating for children. Seriously, if my husband let me I'd have a houseful of children who don't have a home they can call their own. I think it's important to be a voice for children who are not able to have a voice of their own. When you sign up to take a CASA case, you are supposed to be committed to the case for 18 months. I've never taken a case that lasts that long. However, they often do take that long or longer.  I was assigned to be a Co Casa to a case in September and it was expected to dismiss in November. The case didn't dismiss. And right after this I lost the baby, we had company, and it was the holidays. I was having a really hard time fitting in any visits or doing any of the things I should be doing as a responsible CASA.

When it was mid January and I realized I still had some gifts from the CASA office to give away that I hadn't been able to deliver, I realized maybe it was time to resign from my case. But I'm stubborn and the last thing I want to be called is a quitter. I HATE not being able to finish what I start and I also like knowing that at least some part of my life was being spent giving back to the community. I also couldn't imagine quitting because I felt like I had been called to give back in this particular way. Without getting into all the details, I continued to try and make the time to keep the case.  Circumstance after circumstance made it clear that I just was not going to be able to provide what was needed to the case right now.  At this time, I need to focus my attention on something new that our family needs and my  husband works almost an additional 15-20 more hours than he used to.  It took a long time to send my resignation email but after I sent it I felt relieved. And I didn't realize it at the time but it took a lot of courage for me to quit. I know it seems odd that quitting can involve courage but for me it was more courageous to quit because I equated quitting with failing or giving up. When in reality, quitting was just what was needed at the time in order to keep my life in balance.

 

SHOULD WE EVER MAKE IT OKAY FOR OUR KIDS TO QUIT?

 

I think it's acceptable to teach my children that sometimes quitting is not the same as giving up. And although I don't want to raise a bunch of "quitters", I want the boys to know that sometimes quitting IS the best answer.  Sometimes quitting might mean "not now" or "it's not for me after all". This was proven true right after Christmas for my oldest son. He has been super involved this year; basketball, oral language, spelling bee, running for office, band, and choir. He had been learning to play the trumpet since the beginning of the school year.  He had a bumpy start with his brother accidentally smashing his instrument (a whole other story) along with some technical problems. But he stuck it out, he went to class each week, and for a few weeks he even went without an instrument and he also participated in the winter concert. However, he never practiced at home and he didn't seem to enjoy it. Two of his grades dropped this quarter, not bad but he was upset they weren't A's anymore. And finally I said to him, " You know you can quit. You tried it for awhile and if you don't really enjoy it, it's okay." He didn't say yes right away but when it was time for him to go back to band class, he told his teacher that He was going to quit because he didn't really like it anymore and that  he was glad he tried it.

I want them to know they can try new things but if they want to quit it is okay.  If they decide to quit something I hope to instill in them that they are still good enough, quitting isn't always the same as giving up, and quitting doesn't make you a failure. Of course, there are times when we need to encourage them to see things all the way through. But as a parent it is my job to decipher when to encourage them to get to the finish line and when it's okay to throw in the towel. And I guess as a grown up, it's my job to practice what I teach. Now, I have a feeling my son will not be playing the trumpet again. However, I am hoping that I will be able to take another CASA case again. So for him I think it was more of a case of "it's not for me" but for mom I'm hoping it was more of a case of "not at this time".

 

And now I need to go make arrangements with my Co CASA to give her the gifts that are STILL in my car......

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Yep, I Am THAT Mom....

 

On Tuesday, I wasn't able to go volunteer in the boys' classroom. I forgot to email 1 of the teachers to let her know. Yep, I am THAT mom.

 

On Wednesday, we showed up to AWANAS not wearing pajamas........on pajama night. Yep, I am THAT mom.

 

On Wednesday, I told the 5 year old to not say mom again.  After he continued to say it at least 3 more times, I told him the word mom sounded like scratching a chalkboard. What can I say, it was late and it had been a long day. Yep, I am THAT mom.

 

I don't remember when, but one day this week I was the last parent to pick up my Kindergartner. Yep, I am THAT mom.

 

Last week, I noticed the 5 year old did not wear socks to school. I didn't notice til I picked him up....Yep, I am THAT mom.

 

I think the 3  year old went without underwear at least 3 days this week. Each time I didn't figure it out until the middle of the day. Each time I did nothing about it. Yep, I am THAT mom.

 

Yesterday, I let my kids watch and eat whatever they wanted for about 2  hours after school because I was "playing" on the computer. Yep, I am THAT mom.

 

Today, I got caught up talking to a woman at bible study. My child was the last one left in his room. Yep, I am THAT mom.

 

And all of that was just this week.....

For someone who is trying to focus on the little things, I sure miss a lot of details. Often my kids clothes don't match, they don't have socks or if they do they may not be a matching pair, sometimes they don't wear underwear, they always (well almost always) have their teeth brushed but the same is not always true for their hair, I forget sports practice times and sometimes important school events (thank God for the iphone calendar), and by the time I clean out my car you could practically live in it.

So Yep, I am THAT mom.

But you know what my kids are okay with that.

And I think I am finally too.

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Remember or Forget?

When I was pregnant with my first child, I wish someone would have told me the honest truth about parenting. Truly I wish they would have kept all the stuff about pacifiers, breastfeeding, crying it out, sleep training, and natural remedies to themselves and just given me the simple truth. Someone should have said to us, "Parenting will be full of embarrassing moments. You will be more embarrassed than you've ever been......time and time again. You will never do anything harder or more important. Just remember to love and forgive, yourselves and them.....OFTEN."

Okay, I have active little boys and maybe that makes us more prone to embarrassing moments. However, I have some honest friends who have shared some of their embarrassing parenting moments and so I'm pretty sure it's not just me. But why doesn't anyone tell you that along with being sleep deprived you will also be subject to some very humiliating moments?  My theory is simply this.....we forget. I think part of parenting must be like childbirth. There are parts of it that you just simply forget because they are too painful to remember; like the terrible 2s that can last until their 4, or the sleepless nights when they are newborns, or the stomach flus that last for weeks because they just spread from one family member to another. In the moment that it's happening it's the worst thing ever but when it's over it can quickly dull to a distant memory.....like childbirth. You remember it hurt like hell, at some point it felt like the pain would never end, but then that sweet baby was handed over to you and THAT is the moment that remains engrained in your memory.

I want to remember.

And by remember I don't mean being able to recall the big milestones such as; when they got their first tooth, when they started walking, or what age did they start calling me mom instead of mommy (yes that is a big milestone to me). But instead, I want to have an accurate recollection of what it was to be their mother. Some days I think it's the best job God ever gave me and others I'm not quite sure he chose the right person. At times, I am congratulating myself for a job well done and then there's those moments where I feel a complete and sudden urge to immediately enroll in a parenting class because of my motherly inadequacies. I want to remember all of that.....I think.

A friend and I have a joke that when people our age were kids that kids must have been so much easier. Babies seemed to sleep through the night, children didn't talk back, no one had any sleeping issues, we rarely hear of temper tantrums, picky eaters were just not allowed, and how many times do you hear older moms say, " Oh, so and so never did that. " I know we live in different times but kids are still kids. They are going to push their limits, get crabby, and so forth.  I NEVER want to be that person who says to a younger mom, " Wow, you must really have your hands full." Instead, I always want to be that person who remembers what it FELT like to have my hands full.

But just how much do I want to remember? Are some things better off forgotten? I mean this is one of the main reasons why I blog, so that I can remember motherhood.....in all of it's gloriness and goriness. But are there memories, like the pain in childbirth, that should remain a forgotten memory? And if so, which memories do we treasure and which do we conveniently allow to escape into the black abyss of forgetfulness? And is it a conscious choice? I don't think so......but maybe it should be.

Something happened a few months ago that has triggered this kind of game in my head. Remember or Forget? And it kind of makes me laugh. It makes me laugh because at the time, what happened seemed so horrible that I thought I'd never forget it but then a few days later I had forgotten it already. I have all these memories that have flooded my head, most of them embarrassing and I have been thinking do I want to remember that or let it become blurry where it won't seem as bad as it really was. And as I go through the list, most memories I choose to remember. Well, that's mostly true. The moments that you can look back on and laugh about are easy to remember.  But it is the moments that were not funny, moments that were sad or where there was forgiveness needed either by the parent or the child that are not so fun to remember. Or scary moments when children were hurt or sick, those aren't all that fun to remember either. But I'm working up on drudging them all up because like I said, I want to remember this season of my life in all it's authenticity.




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ONE WORD

I did not choose this word. It chose me....

January....January....Good old January....In this month I usually have some type of New Year's Resolution, goals I'd like to accomplish or at least a direction that my life should be heading. However, this year with change on the horizon I simply didn't feel like it. Decisions to make, decisions to be made for us, just felt like I didn't want any added pressure. Then a few weeks ago I went to MOPS and I saw this flier about how this woman chooses one word each year. No promises for how you're going to do better, how much weight you're going to lose, or what financial changes you're going to make........just simply one word that you can embrace for that year.

I loved this idea! In fact I loved this idea so much that my overachieving self told my husband that we were going to do this as a family and we should choose a new word for EVERY month. After sitting with that idea for exactly one day........ I changed my mind. The point of this was to simplify and I was setting myself up for more work. Forcing my family to partake in my word, having to choose a new word every month, blah blah blah. Scratch that idea. One person, one word, one year. Simple enough, right?

Determined to find the perfect word, I began a list of words or areas that I thought could use some extra attention in my life.  Some of the words that came to my mind were choices, strength, truth, encourage, patience, listen, joy and the list went on but none of these words seemed to click.  Then I realized I was trying to be in charge and it really wasn't about where I wanted to go this year but where God chooses to lead me.  And so I prayed. Sometimes, many times, we may not like what God has to say.

I had written the rest of this post explaining how my word came to find me. Then...... I deleted it all. 

Too hard to explain all the details so here goes the short version..... about a month ago, I had a dream. In the dream there was a bible verse and it spoke about being strong and courageous. After that dream this particular verse seemed to appear everywhere. It is actually the same verse that is on my FB cover because like I said I have been inundated with this section of the bible. Since I was drawn to this verse I had this discussion with God about how I really didn't want to choose any of those words; strong, brave, or courageous. Even though those seemed to be the words he continued to nudge at me. I simply told him that those weren't fun or exciting words and he must have something better in store me. I prayed that through my bible study he would reveal a better word.....a word that I would be excited about, one that would make me feel inspired. I was sure that I was misunderstanding and that soon I would have just the perfect word. Thing is, you can't really argue with God. Five minutes into my bible study and there in my homework I was being asked to look up this same verse again with these words.....Be Strong and Very Courageous...

 

Uggh.....there it was AGAIN. Really? Really God? Do I have to be those things? If I have to be strong and courageous does that mean bad things are going to happen? Does it mean I have to do things out of my comfort zone? Just how courageous are you going to want me to be? Then for a day or so, I thought maybe just maybe I didn't want to do this "one word" for the  year anyways. That my original plan was better, no resolutions, no goals, keep it simple.  But then the word kept popping up even more.  And so out of obedience, I will embrace this word and see what it has in store for me. But I have to tell you, I am not super excited. I'm a little nervous and I'm not sure how someone who doesn't feel very brave is going to take on such a powerful word.

And so the word I will focus on for 2013 is

P.S.  This "One Word"  thing is actually a big deal.  People have written books, blogs, articles, etc.  on this approach to embracing one word for the entire year. If you haven't heard of it before, just google it, you will see lots of info. on it. If you've never thought about it, think about it. What one word would you choose to guide, inspire, and influence your new  year?



A Safe Place

Last month, a man walked into an elementary school and took away innocent lives. Sweet, sweet innocent lives of young children. It is so incredibly disturbing to me. Almost a month later and it still just weighs heavy on my heart. On Christmas, I imagined those poor parents and families whose children were not there to open their gifts. The stockings that were hung and never needed to be filled. Parents who didn't get to hear the pitter patter of  little feet before daylight or see their beautiful faces when they opened up their gifts. For those families, every Christmas, all holidays, everyday life as they know it is forever changed.

And where did this horrific event happen? At school. A place to learn, a place to grow, a place where we send our children to everyday, a place that is supposed to be safe.  For some children, school IS the safest place for them to be. When I taught in low income schools, many children had more security and felt safer at school than they did at home. And yet now my kids go to school where they are actually locked inside their classroom all day long and only their teacher is allowed to answer the door. I am not knocking their security, I am grateful that the school is going the extra lengths to make sure my children are safe. But how sad is that? .....that  I am actually grateful . Grateful because my children sit in a locked room at school for their protection just so someone can't come into their classroom and gun them down while they are learning their math facts.

And then today close to our community, there was another school shooting. Another child shot while at school. Another teacher injured while trying to protect students.  And all in their safe place. What is next? Are our schools going to end up looking like the airports' security system?  Will there be metal detectors and random pat down searches?  Do we need to offer programs on Bullying along with How To Avoid a Shooter? Is this the future for our schools that once offered a place of safety? 

I don't understand how we got here.  I don't pretend to have any answers as to how to make it better. And I don't want to argue about gun control, how to treat mentally ill patients, the catastrophic causes of bullying, or which part of society is most to blame. It's not that I don't have opinions on these topics or that I don't think they are important or relevant to these situations. But sometimes people get so caught up in arguing their point of view, defending their beliefs, and trying to prove the other side wrong that it results in more division. On these issues, many people take such a strong stance and then they refuse to see it from any other point of view. It ends up becoming more important to be right than to be empathetic, than to acknowledge the severity of the tragedy that has occurred. This just causes more hatred, selfishness, more divisiveness, and hence more tragedies.

The more I thought about how devastated I was in our schools' safety  and what the future may hold for my children, I realized that maybe they weren't actually as safe as I thought  and perhaps maybe there is a bigger picture of safety to be seen. Although I had seen schools as being a safe place, I bet there are a lot of children and grown adults who would disagree. Lots of things can happen to our children when they are out of our presence. At school our children can be bullied, made to feel inadequate or not as smart, feel left out, get berated by someone at the school, be treated unfairly, or be in an unsafe neighborhood where there are constant fights. I am not pretending that those things are  nearly as unsafe or deadly as shootings. However, I just realized the importance of helping our children to find their own safe place in a very unsafe world.

We send our children into a hazardous world every day. These kinds of incidents can happen anywhere, they do happen anywhere; movie theaters, malls, front yards, etc. We can not put our children in a bubble and protect them from physical or any other kind of harm. I can be cautious (without being paranoid) and teach them to be cautious as well. But all I can really do is pray for them and teach them how to find a safe place to go within themselves when things become scary and difficult. I hope that I can help my children create their own safe place by loving them unconditionally, teaching them to stand up for what they believe in while not degrading others for their own beliefs, and raising them with a faith so strong that they will have an immense sense of peace when nothing else is peaceful.

A Problem Solving Afternoon

One of the things that gets my heart racing more than anything is when my children have been quiet for longer than 15 minutes. Then to make matters worse, you call their name and in return you hear complete silence. If you are a mom of boys or of toddlers, I'm sure you understand. But I truly have found that this situation usually does not end well. Things I have found at the end of that deafening silence have been;  children who've locked themselves in bathrooms, paint on carpet because someone decided they wanted to paint, diaper cream covering their little bodies (more than 1 child has done this), a child who actually left the house and tried to walk to the big boys school, broken toilets from toys being flushed down, and the list could go on.

The other day, I was busily cleaning the kitchen in between doing endless loads of laundry. I assumed the little boys were playing in their playroom, because that's where I saw them last and since they just got new toys from Christmas you'd assume that's where they'd want to be. One should never assume anything when dealing with little boys......that is usually the first mistake. Anyways, after putting in a load of laundry I went back to the kitchen and realized I hadn't heard them in awhile. Little boys play loud, so even when you can't see them you can almost always here them. Then I called for them. Nothing.  Deafening silence. No giggles, no wrestling, no fighting, no whining, no crashing noises....nothing. Walked the house, went to every room and called their names. Not a peep. Garage door was closed and front door was locked (I have learned from past experiences). Next,  I went to look out the windows that oversee our backyard. And of course, there they were.

At the top of the play structure stairs, I saw Landon. And at the bottom stood Carson. In between them,  I saw a miniature toy slide. This must be the boy mom in me because the first thing I did was burst out laughing. They were so funny to watch, they were trying so hard to figure out a way to get that slide up the stairs. I had no idea why they were even trying to get the slide to the top of the play structure.  These two little guys who have a complete volatile love/hate relationship were working together. I just wanted to keep watching them to see what they were going to do next.

After about 15 minutes they decided that they needed to change their plan. So together they tried to carry the little slide to the bottom of the big slide. 

 

This slide can't be that heavy where it takes 2 children to carry it!





 

Now they were going to try and push the little slide up the big slide in order to get it up top. First, Carson tried on his own. But his feet just kept slipping down the slide so he wasn't going anywhere.  He continued to do this for another 10-15 minutes or so. I couldn't believe he wasn't giving up.

Landon must have felt bad for his brother because then he went over and tried to push Carson up the slide. He must have thought he was strong enough to push Carson and the little slide up the big slide.



I love this picture because it looks like Carson is trying to push with his face.
This is what I call teamwork!



 



This is how they eventually got the slide up to the top. Landon climbed up the stairs to pull the slide from the top. Landon pulled and Carson pushed. Little problem solvers!!

And all of this hard work..... ...........just to make their slide just a little bit more adventurous.

That afternoon, I could have informed the boys of all the dangers in what they were trying to do. I could have had them stop immediately. After all, I was busy and needed to finish cleaning the kitchen. I could have given them a lecture on the safe way to play on the slide.
But I'm really glad I didn't and this is why:

 TEAMWORK: They are able to work really well together. Somewhere along the way, they've learned that teamwork really does get the job done. If you've ever seen them fight, you would understand how amazing this is!

 PAUSE BEFORE REACTING: My first instinct when I saw them was to go tell them to stop. After all, it looked dangerous and someone could get hurt. Knowing our boys, someone would get hurt. But by watching them from a distance without interfering, it allowed them to use their problem solving skills in order to accomplish their task. They tried more than one approach, worked together, and accomplished their task by not giving up. I know it's silly, it's just them playing on a slide but in that afternoon they learned more about working together than I could have taught them if I tried.


After they went down their "new" slide once, I did call them over to the window and told them to take it down. This is Carson sulkily walking away.