Mom, Mom, Mom, Mommy, Mommy

Are you familiar with the animated TV show Family Guy? I'm not. Just the commercial where little Stewie stands in a doorway saying "Mom. Mom. Mom. Mommy. Mommy. Mommy. Mama. Mama." His irritated mother sighs, "What?"

"Hi." That's all he wanted to say. Just hi. But he hammered away to get her attention first.

Most of us have probably felt exhausted from similar demands from our smaller kids. I know that's why I laugh at this commercial now. In fact my senior son and I have turned it into a joke.

Have you ever been at a friend's house engaged in a serious conversation when one of their kids trots into the room and asks for something? Perhaps even something they could do for themselves. "May I eat a carrot?" "Can I go to the bathroom?" "Will you pour me some water?" Anything like these I say they should be able to do for themselves. But I've seen the mom go get that carrot, interrupting the synch of our conversation at the same time scolding that kid she is talking with another adult.

What about when a sibling tumbles in and says the other one won't let them play the Wii? Or tattles about the mean face that was made? The mom marches to the foot of the stairs and calls out for all the kids to play nice, then returns to you with a sigh. A few minutes later both of these scenarios are repeated only this time it's too close to dinner so absolutely no snack. As they pour their own water, the mom says to you "Just a sec - Hey!! Don't spill on my clean floor!" then returns to the disjointed conversation.

Some moms can tell the future so they lecture ahead of time. You are on the phone this time and she pulls away to tell the kids they had better not drop those towels on the floor like the last time. Or, they see their kid doing a craft and have to tell them this very minute that the glue should be dotted like this instead.

All the while, you are waiting patiently to continue the conversation but by now you have lost your train of thought. The mom complains about how needy her kids are and how she can't get much done because of them.

She doesn't realize she has created all of this by the way they micromanage or hover. I like to call it helicopter  parenting. Always there, aware of everything going on and ready to direct, fix or opine. It's one of the worst things we can do as parents. Offering to guide and narrate everything going on in the house - or in their lives. When will it be okay for these kids to begin to make their own decisions? Are they going to wait until driver's ed class?

Start with the little things and build. Tell your kids they can play the Wii for whatever period of time you pick and that they have to work out their own turns. Then step out of it and go do something else. If one of them comes to tell on the other, calmly turn off the game. Repeat each time until they get the idea that their time with the Wii is their time - not yours to supervise. I believe kids as young as 5 should learn how to pour water and get simple snacks. Rather than teaching them to ask mother bird for every worm, establish guidelines where they have the freedom to serve themselves according to your household rules. If they don't follow, they don't get to do it next time.

Most moms will agree that as soon as they begin talking on the phone or visiting with another adult, their kids flock to their side suddenly in dire need to say something. Here's a simple "Interruption Technique" I like to teach. When your child has something to say, they come and stand quietly next to you and tap you gently on the arm, and wait. You continue to talk, but tap your child back on their arm. The "code" you just used without saying a thing was that he has something to say and you are  acknowledging him, and when you are done with your sentence he will be addressed. Kids love hearing they get to have a code with you! And if you are upbeat when you teach this, they'll follow. Tell them how great they are doing and you've just nipped a major chunk of interruptions out of your future.

Passing On Fear

Am I over-sharing if I tell you that my favorite guilty pleasure on television is the reality show Giuliana and Bill? When it comes on, my husband groans and leaves the room, so now I record it and watch it later. Giuliana Rancic is very open about her phobias in her TV show also featuring hubby Bill and miracle baby Duke. Now that they are parents, I get a kick out of the lengths they will earnestly explore in order to parent their son.

The other night, Giuliana had a beauty pageant to host, so Bill flew to Lake Michigan with the baby to teach him not to be afraid of the water like his mother. He bundled the approximate 9-month-old into a water safety suit, climbed into a giant inner tub and held him tightly while a speed boat pulled them around. When Giuliana joined them, they went to the top of a sky scraper and walked to the edge of the balcony. The trouble was, the floor became glass so it looked like you were walking over nothing. Bill and the Baby did just fine, but Giuliana couldn't do it. She kept saying things like, "Baby Duke, you're not gonna be afraid like Mommy, right?"

I think parents can pass on fears by how they address them or what they demonstrate to their kids. Announcing it like Giuliana did won't work. All that did was call attention to it. The good news is that at this age, Duke probably didn't know what mom was saying - but I bet he could pick up her vibe of anxiety.

Rather than pass on my fears, I would rather my kids get some of their own. In a perfect world, it would be great if no one was crippled by any fears and just had those healthy ones like don't stick your hand on the stove. However, I understand Giuliana's fear of heights full well. The difference is that instead of showing it to my kids, I just stepped aside and let Granda take them up to the top or let Dad take them on the world's tallest roller coaster. I let them know I wasn't comfortable but urged them to have fun. Now it is the family inside joke. Fine with me, I'm still waiting by the ground floor exit.

Being raised by a mother who was afraid of her own shadow was tough. She expected me not to "step on a crack" or not "walk under a ladder" right along with her. When I was seven, I accidentally broke a small mirror. "Oh no," she solemnly warned me, "Now you're going to have seven years of bad luck!" And while she never brought that up again, I remember thinking that the "bad" things that happened were a result of that mirror and counting the years until I was 14. And wouldn't you know, I broke another mirror then.

Parents are the front-line influencers of our children for the first dozen years, until peers creep in and seem to take over our role for awhile. We have to remember it is much less what we say than what we display. My mom never said she was afraid of small spaces, she just screeched and clasped me in elevators. She never said she was afraid of fire, she just counted all the stove burners that were shut off before we left the house. While all of this was happening, I thought it was normal. After all, this was my mom and my family.

It took time to see that her anxiety was not like other moms, and by the time I was in my mid-teens, would gently tease her. But she took her fears seriously and gave them a place to live inside her. What she unintentionally taught was that "something bad was going to happen". Remember, she never said it, she just lived it. Of course her own childhood had a great deal to do with it - I never knew those details until I was an adult.

There are reasons why someone can become anxious, but they don't have to become the excuse. And we don't have to use it as permission to stay that way. We can work through anxiety and fear with good counseling. We don't have to be governed by it. And that's why I tried not to give too much attention to my fear of heights in front of my kids. Neither one of them have developed that fear. I just don't like being on the edge of a drop-off, that's all.

So to Giuliana, I say hats off to you for acknowledging your fears and wanting to deal with them. Just don't involve your baby. While he is learning life, don't call attention to your angst and to the best of your ability, let him grow without passing on a mantle too heavy and burdensome. So, get ready for when he climbs to the top of the jungle gym in about six months!

The Kitchen is Closed

When my daughter was in third grade, we went out to dinner at the local burger joint along with a neighbor and her third and first grade sons. We each ordered for ourselves and kids and waited at the counter for our trays of burgers and fries to be ready. I remember that the mother had some coaching to do with the first grade son, but didn't think too much about it.

That is, until we sat down in our booth and began unwrapping our burgers. Much to the first grade son's disappointment, the burger he unwrapped was not the child-size one he had ordered. It was the regular size burger with exactly the same condiments and cheese requested. He began to pout loudly and whine to his mother.

My girl and I exchanged glances, uncertain what the problem was because he got what he wanted - just a little bigger. He could eat a little less and be fine. No big deal, right? Wrong. He continued to whimper and his mother continued to coddle him until she appologetically went back to the counter and ordered him a new, smaller burger. She had a big smile that she had pleased her son, and he happily bit into his perfect burger.

I thought she had just taught her sons that they can have whatever they wanted and cringed for their future wives who would have to live up to high expectations.

Over the years I have met many a parent who has catered to her child's eating whims. They have gone so far as to create separate meals in order to get them to eat. As they explain their predicament to me, they shrug as if they are powerless and continue to outline the lengths they have gone to get something edible down the throat of their child.

Perhaps because I was once just such a finicky eater (PBJs every day for a year) I determined not to to bring another such person into the world.

So in my grown-up house, we serve the same dinner to everyone. That is the food available for the meal, period. You can't turn your nose up to what has been prepared and go make macaroni. You can, however, have a bowl of cereal later if you ate dinner and are still hungry. I have encouraged our kids to at least taste something new, and if they really do hate it, we don't force it. After all, I don't like beets, either.

We also got the kids cooking at an early age so they could see what went into a meal. By the time they were in early elementary grades, they would shop with me for the ingredients and work on each step of the meal with some help. There is no magic fairy in our house. The  phrase "the kitchen is closed" was implemented to keep late-nite snackers from messing up or a kid who refused dinner to try and wheedle food out of us later on . Usually we would add the time the kitchen was closed to this pronouncement. We'd say it calmly, brightly adding that "breakfast will be served at 8:00."

A huge influence on my philosophy of meal time magic comes from Dr. Kevin Leman, renowned parenting expert and psychologist for over 30 years. (Check out all his books on Amazon! They are fun reading with practical applications.) In one of his books, he shares this suggestion he gave a mom with a fussy kid who didn't like spaghetti - the rest of the family's favorite meal. Dr. Leman told the mom to make that spaghetti and set the table for everyone except the whiner, then call the family for dinner. They calmly begin serving and eating the meal. The whiner came in the room and wondered why there wasn't a plate for him, and the mom cheerfully told him, "well honey, you don't like spaghetti." The stunned kid wandered over to the kitchen counter, lifted the lid on the sauce pot and said, "well, I could eat this spaghetti." He never complained again. And yes, he even ate spaghetti.

My absolute favorite Dr. Leman story is the one where the whiney eater - sitting at the table - looks at his plate and whimpers that he doesn't like this stuff. The parent cheerfully says ""okay", stands up and takes his plate to the sink where he dumped the entire contents. They calmly return to the dinner table and continue eating. The astonished kid asks what happened. Their cheerful reply, "You said you didn't like it. Breakfast will be at 8:00. You are excused." That kid  never complained again, either. I only had to do this once. It works. The key is you being cool, calm and unruffled.

If you haven't guessed by now, my favorite way of parenting involves reality - not lecturing, not reminding. At first you will have to work at acting calmer than you really are. But very soon, if you are committed and consistent, you will realize you really are.

P.S.  You can modify these ideas for older kids who don't show up on time at the dinner table. Breakfast is at 8:00.

Bon Appetit!

Go To Your Room! (And clean it)

Years ago I heard a story about a family that had an exchange student. The host mother told the student to go "pick up her room". Some time later the host mom found the perplexed student standing in the middle of her room wondering how she was going to lift it. Ah, the English slang.

One of the great parent debates I've experienced is that of the clean bedroom. After all, rooms must be neat and tidy, mustn't they? A clean room is next to godliness and learning to take care of our belongings is an essential skill in childhood development. And so as soon as they can scoot across the floor we begin teaching our children how to put the plastic truck back in the toy basket. Pretty soon they are in 2nd grade and part of the evening routine is to clean the room before bed and of course their bed must be made in the morning before school.

Too bad it is not that simple.

We have to factor in temperment and later, activity schedules. I was one of those uber tidy kids who actually liked cleaning and arranging my room. I liked to keep it neat so I don't think I was ever even asked to go clean it because it already was. I was neat to a point that when I got done playing with my Barbies, I would dress them back in the original outfits they came in. (That's for another blog.)

Some of that was still in my system when my first child came along. I would put her books and toys back on the shelf in her room in the same place and run her Legos through the dishwasher. Don't worry, this got old pretty quickly, but when your kids are babies the truth is that it's usually mom who keeps the room clean. And it's fun to tend their stuff when they are so little.

Around the age of four I decided to add bed making to our daughter's list of skills. Of course she couldn't fluff and fold like someone five feet taller, and I had read a great parenting book by Dr. Kevin Leman that warned against correcting efforts so I praised her and left the lumps. I naively thought this was going to be a breeze.

I ended up trying every chart, reward system, tip and punishment to get that girl to clean her room all the way through high school. Everything worked. For while. Then the Technique got ADD.

Technique 1: Personally show your child exsactly what to do and where to look. When you follow up and point out what's still under the bed, you will hear "Uh, I forgot."

Technique 2: Write out the definition of a clean room on a card and laminate it. Instead of hearing yourself repeat all the things included in this task, merely point to the card and walk away. This will work very well until your irritated teen takes the card down and throws it away.

Technique 3: Establish a Take-Away box for anything left around the house after they go to bed. If your kid is like mine you'll need a big box. Place each item - no matter what it is and I mean even snow boots and violins - in the box. They have to buy back each item before they can have it back. If they leave an item in there for a few days, introduce the principle of compound interest. This worked well for years, actually. I ended up getting at least one "free" mocha a week and inspiring a whole group of other parents which made my daughter quite unpopular. If you are really brave you can introduce donations at the end of a month and really push the point and decrease clutter.

Technique 4: For the ultra slob, take everything out of their room except the mattress and 2 changes of clothes. Remove the doors too. Tell them they have to earn back their belongings by showing that they care about each item.

Technique 5: Set a day and time that the room must be cleaned up by. Do not allow your child to go anywhere until this goal is accomplished. We said our girl's room must be cleaned like a model home by noon each Saturday. At ten each Saturday I would leave the house and go to a coffee shop and do some studying, leaving my husband and baby to deal with the whining that accompanied our strict rule. If you are going to do this one, be sure and follow through by not letting your child go anywhere or you have defeated the purpose. And whatever you do, don't nag and don't get drawn into discussion.

We alternated between each of these techniques plus a few others until our girl hit 11th grade. The technique I sighed and finally adopted was called "close the door". All we asked is that there be no food in her room and that she keep the door closed at all times because it was a sight to behold. She was terrific about keeping the door closed (but we did find six former bowls of ice cream with the spoons stuck to the sides when we moved the week after graduation).

You wouldn't believe how many parents were aghast that I would be so slack with the clean room requirement. Boy did I get lectures about my own irresponsibility. If they didn't say it they showed their disapproval by the turn of their eyebrows and went home to nit pick on their kid. The one that was going to keep their room clean at the expense of a relationship of trust.

Well, she went off to college and got a neat-freak roommate who must have suffered dearly. Then she lived with other girls who were also comfortable with scattered pizza boxes and ice cream dishes on the floor. Then she shared a housewith people who ate up her food and broke her things. Then she lived alone and ... kept everything neat and clean, not just her bedroom. Then she got married and not only keeps things clean, is a talented decorator.

Who would have thought that the little girl who slept upside down on her bed and wrote in French with Sharpie all over her bedroom door would grow up to organize her kitchen, garden and have a room even dedicated to her art?

Would I do things any differently, knowing the outcome? Nope. Like I used to say to the parents that were convinced I had dropped the ball, if having a messy room is the worst thing my kid does, I have a great kid and I'll just shut the door.

More Than One Hour Each Week

167 hours. Minus the one hour on Sunday when your kid might be in Sunday School, that's what you've got at home each week to influence your child for God. Subtracting five 8-hour school days, you're left with 127. Hopefully they sleep at least 8 hours each night, so that puts you at 87 hours. Not bad.

1 vs. 87.

If we rely only on that one hour at church each weekend to deeply impact our children, we're fooling ourselves.

Most kids are in public school and endure forty hours of influence. They are learning more than what is taught by the teacher and developing filters and assessments they wouldn't even think to articulate. They just think it is a part of going to school and doing life.

So what do we do?

We find ways to weave God's truth into everyday lives in everyday moments. We ask God to make us aware and alert, something every ancient Hebrew family knew by heart:

"Listen, O Israel! The Lord is our God, The Lord alone. And you must love The Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your strength. And you must commit yourselves wholeheartedly to these commands that I am giving you today. Repeat them again and again to your children. Talk about them when you are at home and when you are on the road, when you are going to bed and when you are getting up. Tie them to your hands and wear them on your forehead as reminders. Write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates." Deuteronomy 6:4-9.

Aiming to teach our kids that God loves us is our highest calling. Placing enough information and experience in their lives so that they decide for themselves to follow God is more important than dance lessons and soccer teams. They can always do that, but their hearts won't always be open and we can't recapture those natural, teachable moments to show our kids the power and awe and truth of God.

Not a Bible scholar? No problem. Neither were those Hebrew parents. They just taught a few verses over and over! Now we have all kinds of resources to equip us, starting with the Bible. Be assured that when Jesus said "let the little children come to me" he wasn't only talking about kids. Admit what you don't know and try your best, God always honors that. And bit by bit, you will be surprised at what you have learned and shared. A friend of mine didn't think she knew enough, either but her desire was to train her young girls. Guess what? She lead them both to accept Christ. That nervous mom trusted God to make her words make sense. Today she confidently continues to share God's truth and is growing with her kids. God loves your children more than you do, remember that.

So what are some simple teachable moments?
- Looking at the stars, tell the story of God's promise to Abraham
- Driving in the car, notice other drivers' behavior and pray for them
- Teach them to pray every time they ride their bike or use scissors
- Start and end the day with short, simple prayers
- Pray aloud for every siren you hear, for the people who need help, for safety
- Notice the details in the changing seasons and share how God has ordered the world
- When coloring, comment on the name of the color and how God made the colors
- Create a "thankful jar" and collect notes for a month, then read as a family
- While listening to the news, pause the radio or TV and pray for what is going on
- Hold the door for others, put trash in public waste cans
- Enjoy pictures of unusal creatures and talk about how God made them all - He made us!
- When correcting wrong behaviour, let them know they also need to apologize to God
- Let them see you honoring their other parent

All of these ideas are what I call "by the way" acts. You were already doing it or going there, so why not just add a sentence or a phrase about God? I like to listen to the Dr. Laura radio program in the car and I can't tell you how many great chats her calls have inspired between me and my kids. None of this requires an extra bit of schedule, just a bit of effort to stop and call attention to God in our everyday lives. Pretty soon it will be a habit and before you know it, you will have added years of meaningful influence to your child's growing soul.

Then, that one hour on Sunday is adding to the foundation you have already laid and you can partner with your children's ministry team for even greater impact.

Ever Been to Manners Camp?

When our son was 3, his 13-year-old sister was babysitting him one summer day. Fed up with his toddler table manners, she created his very own Manners Camp. Her curriculum included proper posture, placement of napkins and elbows and correct use of utensils. They practiced over and over. When I got home, she eagerly informed me that her little brother had gone to Manners Camp and done very well. I'll never forget the smile of accomplishment on her face as he proudly demonstrated sitting at the table and chewing with his mouth closed. Just one visit to that "camp" made a big difference in his life.

As I navigate a typical day and encounter different people, I wish everyone could go to Manners Camp. Aside from teaching proper table manners, a few more topics need to be covered. It's a head-scratcher why those in authority over impressionable children do not work on training basic polite behavior that includes the fact that there are indeed other people in the world beside ourselves.

1. No spitting unless it is in your bathroom sink.  Argh, I've had huge wads of spit ejected out of male mouths ages 5 - 55 walking right in front of me. Sometimes I have to step around the glop they left on the sidewalk. Teen boys are the worst offenders, but dads do it too. When they do that, they are displaying a lack of concern for anyone else.

2. Have your conversations in public off to the side - not in the middle of an aisle in a store. What are other shoppers supposed to do, go around you while you block their way and chat on? If you stand off to the side you can have your conversation and others can shop. Double win. Last week I hit the jackpot - two middle-age men stood chatting in the middle of the parking lot lane completely oblivious to me in a car trying to get past them! I had to sit and wait for them, no kidding. Where did they learn to ignore a 3,000 ton vehicle much less other person?

3. Don't interrupt unless it's an emergency. This one really bugs me, especially when I am speaking to an adult and their kids burst in. Rather than tell their child not to interrupt, many will pause our conversation to answer the kid demand. All that does is teach them that it is acceptable to keep one's needs at the top of the list. I love it when kids who have been trained to be polite stand quietly at the elbow of an adult patiently waiting their turn to ask their question.

4. Clean up after yourself...and even others as you go. This is so easy and expeditious. Just bring your empty glass to the sink when you are done. Take the one next to it along. Walking back upstairs? Bring any item you know belongs there rather than leaving it for a return trip. Getting out of the car? Don't forget your empty water bottle and any other trash sitting around. This demonstrates the concept of thoughtfulness.

5. Hold the door open for others. This common courtesy has all but vanished in North America. Even when my youngest was in a stroller 16 years ago, businessmen entering a coffee shop right in front of me would let the door slam in our faces. Just. Plain. Rude. We can all do with some more thinking about the person coming after us, especially if their arms are full.

6. Say Thank You. And when you do it, make eye contact and smile. When I shop, clerks hand me my purchase and say "there you go" or "have a nice day." Kids of all ages must learn to thank someone for a kindness, and when they are old enough to work or babysit, they need to say thank you to their customer. I used to try to have my child write the thank-you note before even playing with the gift.

7. Replace the empty roll of toilet paper. How many times have you been stranded in the Loo because the person who last used the facility took the last bit of toilet paper? Even if you are at a friend's house, let the host know the roll is empty. Don't send the message that even what you do in the Loo is more important than anyone else by leaving them without this basic need. This is the ultimate insult to others.

Failure to teach our children these simple acts of humanity will result in the dreaded rude drivers of the future. Rude drivers are the ultimate gasp on my Bad Manners list. You know who they are. They are the ones who won't let you merge even with your turn signal on. The ones who speed up so you can't get in or are trying to slow down so you can turn. The ones who give you the rude finger gesture for being in their way...and then they go home and say hello to the wife and kids. Do you want your kids to be that father? The one who behaves rudely in public but is nicer to those he knows by name? I don't. This selfish behavior started a long time ago by what wasn't taught when the opportunity was there.

Make the most of your Manners Camps while you can, so you can launch an adult who recognizes there are others in the world beside themselves. Too bad that is such a novel concept in this self-indulgent age.

...Trying to make a dent...

My Pen

Writing about the evils of a pencil the other day reminded me of my Pen Story. I too got in trouble, only instead of suspension it was the old "put your desk in the corner" shaming.

It was second grade. Wait, first you have to know that I have "lived inside my head" since forever. An avid reader, I was always creating different narratives in my head and doing illustrations when time permitted - like after school.

Back to the story. At the time I was in second grade, and one of the popular shows on TV that I had the good fortune to watch before bedtime involved secret agents. They were the coolest! They worked for good and always stopped evil. Week after week, dressed in suits and raincoats, they solved the crime or saved the world. At least one of them wore a brimmed hat in addition the the belted raincoat.  When they were at their most secretive, they communicated with secret pens. All you had to do to use it was unscrew the middle and place the top under the bottom. Nifty, for sure.

When my parents bought me a non-yellow non-plastic cloth raincoat complete with a belt and a brimmed hat, I was thrilled. Now I would look just like the agents I so admired. Never mind that their coats were beige and mine powder blue, this would work.

I waited with baited breath for a forecast of rain so I could begin a mission of my very own without parental knowledge. About a week later my dream came true: morning showers. Off I went to school in my belted new coat, brimmed hat and hands thrust deeply into my side pockets just like I'd seen on TV. Clutched in my right hand inside the pocket  was my special pen - the one I would be communicating to Command Central with.

This pen is particularly notable because at the time second graders were not allowed pens, only pencils and crayons. Pens were for third grade on up. I had brought my pen from home.

The morning started off okay. I was to report in on classroom activities. Since I was working, I did not hang my coat in the cloakroom with the rest of the class. I needed to be in uniform. My teacher didn't seem to mind that I was sitting at my desk in a raincoat and hat for at least an hour. Then we had recess. From time to time, I would cautiously bring the pen out of my pocket and whisper a short message before reassembling it and placing it back inside. I was a good agent!

After recess I attempted to sit down again without removing my coat and hat. I checked in again with Command Central. "I'm back inside at my desk." I whispered. "We are doing Spelling."

My teacher noticed my cover at last. "Go hang your coat up with all the others and take off that hat."

"I can't, " I replied.

"You can't?!" She snapped.

"I just can't...." I said hopelessly.

Returning to my job, I unscrewed the pen and informed Command Central that I had to take off my coat.  I trudged to the back of the room and hung up my coolest spy outfit ever and returned to my desk. I was so engrossed in my mission, the incredulous stares from the rest of the class did not phase me one bit. This was my mission.

Seated back at my desk, the teacher resumed the spelling lesson and I dutifully resumed reporting in the status of the class.

The teacher noticed me whispering comments into the pen in my hand and indignantly told me to stop being a distraction and to put that pen away. Once again I sincerely informed the teacher, "I can't."

As she marched down the aisle, her spelling book clutched under her arm she repeated her command using both my first and last names. I kept reporting in.

The last message Command Central received from me that day was when I half stood and sputtered into the pen as it was being yanked from my grip, "She - is - taking - my - pen - right - now!!Sorry!!"

I would have to wait until after school to continue my mission...

I'll Just Go Have Coffee

When my kids were 13 and 3, I learned the power of coffee. Until that particular day, when they got into it together I would try and referee in the moment. Of course that didn't work because of the shrieking. Oh and little brother so ampped he hovered the room. A fifteen-minute situation would take up to two hours to completely be resolved. Sure the kids learned the moral lesson - finally. But I was left in an exhausted emotional puddle.

Who wouldv'e thought that ten years between siblings could be reduced to zero? They could tussle with the best of them. "She hooked at me!!!" "He touched my backpack!!!" And away they went - far past the speed of sound.

So on this particular spring day, they put it in first gear and I knew just where they were going, and it was fast. Rather than begin my usual conductor's warning, I found myself calmly grabbing my purse and the car keys, heading for the door. "I'm going for coffee while you guys figure this out," I said as if this were the most normal thing in the world, and smiled my way out the door.

I knew two important things. One, our eldest had been Red Cross certified for a few years. Two, she really wouldn't mortally harm her brother as much as she liked to hear him scream.

The nearest coffee shop was just down the hill, about 5 minutes away if you didn't hit a red light. I ordered a medium decaf mocha (no whip) and enjoyed it to the last drop while I caught up with the latest local newspaper. After a bit I checked my watch. I'd been gone about a half hour. A whole half hour without the screams and thumps.  My, this was nice.

After another 15 minutes I stood and stretched. Time to go home and get the jump on dinner prep. What a pleasant afternoon this had stayed.

I walked into a calm home with two happy siblings enjoying cartoons.

That's the day I stopped inserting myself into their scenarios. My my, the twins could handle things on their own! I could stay chill. And the times when things started to escalate, I just went and enjoyed another cup of coffee. Peace on earth at our house.

The Morning After They Turn 15

Remember when it was exciting to turn 15 because in most states you can get a driver's permit? Some states even hire you for part-time jobs. Perhaps your parents relaxed some rules or gave you special privileges. It was the beginning of the outward recognition on the exciting road to adulthood.

Hello America 2013. Now your newly minted 15-year-old can legally obtain the "morning after pill" at the local drug store. No prescriptions required. No more hiding them behind the pharmacist's counter. They can now be on display and all a kid has to do is produce an I.D. Since many 15-er's don't drive, guess a school I.D. will do. No parental consent required.

The rights of parents to raise and guide their children continue to be attacked in this country. Imagine what will happen if some child thinks she is pregnant and takes the pill - all without her parents being aware? What are the side effects if there is no pregnancy and the kid is just over-reacting? What are the physical side effects if there is a pregnancy? Does a 15 year-old possess the thought processes necessary to follow the instructions and cautions, much less and read the fine print? What about the long-reaching emotional side effects?

Not only are our children encouraged to explore all sexual body functions at earlier and earlier ages, the media tells them it's all okay, no big deal and that everything can be "taken care of". Isn't that the child-like thinking we parents work years to coach our kids to overcome? We can't really always get our way. Our way may not even be close to "right". And everything isn't always "all better". This is called reality. Why is our culture working so hard against this?

So now conscientious parents face near legal action if they get in the way of the "rights" some entity out there has deemed the path of least resistance for American children. I mean, saying and enforcing a "no" takes far more energy than saying "yes" and looking the other way, doesn't it? Who was sitting around the decision-making table when it was determined that an entire new generation should be able to pop into Target and get these pills? Does that sound like the thinking anyone who cared about the psychological development of a kid would suggest? Or...is it someone who stands to gain financially?

America was founded on values and principles that people risked their lives for. Now we are a beacon of hand-outs and continually lowered standards so that no one is offended. In the process, our historical foundation is not only offended, it is destroyed. When you stand for nothing, you are nothing. What future is that for this country when our kids are so deceived and devalued?

I want parents to have the freedom and courage to train their kids to stand for truth and to value life at any cost. Yes, at any cost. Would you rather keep a job that corrupts your soul just for the money? Sadly - no alarmingly - that is what our country has become...chasers of things and excuses and escapes.

Don't you want to be a fly on the wall watching a pharmacist sell these pills to a kid the age of their own and see if they swallow hard?

How Many Towels?

This is a journal entry from when our son was in pre-kindergarten.

Last night we got to use up almost all of the towels in our house - including the old ones for camping, clean-up and the dog. You guessed it - somebody was throwing up. Regularly and consistently.

I should have paid more attention when an exhausted mom at the Teddy Bear Making Field Trip told me her son wasn't in attendance because he had spent the prior night being sick. Ooops, forgot to make the mental note.

Surprise at our house.

Our son had climbed in bed with us, and we were all fast asleep. Suddenly, he turned in his sleep, sat up and became violently ill. His new teddy bear, many pillows, the bedding and my nightgown all needed to be cleaned. I wondered how many other field trip teddy bears were also already being washed. Would his still be as soft?

Unfortunately, our sweetie wasn't done being sick with that first erruption. His tummy bothered him every half hour until about 5:00 a.m. Just long enough between episodes for Mommie and Daddy to clean him up, flop down a clean towel and begin to dream. No wonder my dreams were odder than ever! Have you ever dreamed you were the cursor on your laptop? I did last night for a couple of minutes.

Each time he would wake up to throw up, he would ask us when God was going to be done "letting my tummy be sick" and we'd tell him, "soon, honey, soon." Our eyes, limbs and fatigue were heavy. We'd clean him up with another towel, pray a short prayer and drop exhausted back into bed. Somehow our night turned into day, but nothing was as planned. Minimal sleep during a night with a cloudy sunrise.

In the midst of this unexpected night was a small boy who trusted God. He didn't whine. He didn't complain. He looked to God for the answer and waited. Time after time, towel after towel. He continued to look to God for the answer to his experience even when it didn't feel good and took awhile.

I wonder. How many times in the midst of my "surprises" in life do I not only hang on to God's planned outcome, but grip him tightly with my trust in the darker and unclear times? Our son did that last night. He clearly didn't like being sick. Who would? But in the midst of it, he knew enough to look to God and wait. He waited with a sick tummy, but he waited without worrying. Sure he wondered when it would stop and was acutely uncomfortable. But he knew to trust the God who was with him no matter what he was experiencing.

Contrast that with my response last night. I trusted God, but had side commentary in my head each time a new towel was necessary because I had plans for the next day. I ended up learning to rest and wait upon God along with our son. In a way, we were both experiencing the same thing - waiting for someone more powerful than us to make it all better. God used me and his Daddy as instruments and taught me something at the same time.

May I always have trust like this five-year-old boy. Even on the days when the old camping towels stay in their box.

A refreshing read for me today some years later and a good reminder never to let go of trusting God's plan.

The Proverbs 31 Woman

Ever heard about this amazing woman? You can read about her in most of chapter 31 in book of Proverbs in the Bible. There we read incredible character traits to aim for. They are pretty lofty, but inspiring. I love the one about her being a prudent business woman in addition to nobley nurturing her family. Check out a few verses:

10 [b]Who can find a virtuous and capable wife?
She is more precious than rubies.
11 Her husband can trust her,
and she will greatly enrich his life
12 She brings him good, not harm,
all the days of her life.
13 She finds wool and flax
and busily spins it.
14 She is like a merchant’s ship,
bringing her food from afar.

And

16 She goes to inspect a field and buys it;
with her earnings she plants a vineyard.
17 She is energetic and strong,
a hard worker.
18 She makes sure her dealings are profitable;
her lamp burns late into the night.
19 Her hands are busy spinning thread,
her fingers twisting fiber.
20 She extends a helping hand to the poor
and opens her arms to the needy.

And

22 She makes her own bedspreads.
She dresses in fine linen and purple gowns.
23 Her husband is well known at the city gates,
where he sits with the other civic leaders.
24 She makes belted linen garments
and sashes to sell to the merchants.
25 She is clothed with strength and dignity,
and she laughs without fear of the future.
26 When she speaks, her words are wise,
and she gives instructions with kindness.

I wanted to teach my little girl these wonderful attributes. How a woman can be both a leader and a supporter, wise and trusting. How central she is to her family, and how far-reaching her influence was. One of the things I found to help me teach this was a lovely children's book called When I'm a Mommy, by Ginger Fulton. It was charmingly illustrated and communicated the Proverbs examples in contemporary language with simple language perfect for a preschooler.

We nestled together on the couch to read our new book. She eagerly listened and absorbed each illustration with wide eyes. I loved reading with her in my arms when I could look at her profile and see those sweet cheeks and rosebud lips focused on the pages. Soon we came to the part paraphrasing verse 15: "She gets up before dawn to prepare breakfast for her household and plan the day’s work for her servant girls."

Somberly, my four-year-old turned and looked up into my eyes. "Well, you're not a Proverbs 31 Mommy because you don't get up that early."

Okay, so I like to sleep in. These verses are still worth some refreshed inspiration!

All in a Baby's Day

This is an excerpt from an article I wrote when our son was six months old - born 10 years after his sister - and I was learning and re-learning newborn parenting skills. Laugh again with me...


5:00 a.m. After hearing the 'call of the wild' and responding with a fresh diaper and early morning feeing, parents fall back asleep.

6:30 a.m. Realize that Baby kicking is a call to arms, at least one parent rises and heads for the shower. The other one sips warm water from the glass next to the bed, consoling Baby.

6:45 a.m. Exit shower and attempt to convince Baby that this dripping being is still you just wet and wrapped in towels.

7:10 a.m. Attempt to dress in front of Baby. Stumble to his room and provide him with a new diaper. Realize too late that the wood blinds are being sprinkled and will require a special cleaning procedure.

7:12 - 7:19 a.m. Clean off the window, blinds, changing table and wall as Baby lays shrieking in his crib.

7:29 a.m. Attempt to hold a brief family devotion in the kitchen. Feel relieved that God deeply understands people.

7:45 a.m. Feed Baby breakfast. Watch him practice pull-up exercises on your forearm. Return Baby to his seat after each bite. Wipe off your face, arm, chest and Baby's tray.

8:00 a.m. Pour a glass of water as you attempt to clean up the kitchen. Nibble on a cold bagel as you empty the dishwasher.

8:45 a.m. Baby's floor time! Put toys in front of Baby to discover. Put toys back when you see he would rather reach for the threads on your old couch.

9:00 - 9:40 a.m. Attempt to convince Baby it is time for morning nap. Once he has cried himself into a sweat, carefully place him in the swing and attempt to finish wiping off kitchen counter and table.

9:50 - 11:00 a.m. Laundry time. So much crying occurs as you are swapping loads you drop clean, wet clothes on dirty laundry room floor and forget what you were doing. Accidentally spill entire box of detergent into washer while trying to tune out Baby's shrieks.

11:05 a.m. Pour a glass of water and take 2 sips.

11:17 a.m. Receive a phone call from a friend who wonders why you never call them anymore.

11:23 a.m. Baby lets you know it is time to be fed again while you are still on the phone. He keeps letting you know until he has finished feasting, you have hung up and given him his 'Bink'.

11:36 a.m. Carefully carry a full and tired Baby across his room. You are about to put him down in the lovely crib you just had to have that he rarely sleeps in. As you bend down, hear Baby belch. Notice he has burped all over your shirt.

11:38 a.m. While changing your shirt, Baby notices you are no longer there and begins to shriek. Proceed to shove your head in an armhole.

11:47 a.m. Give up trying to stay home with Baby. Drive all over town for several hours trying to lull him back to sleep. He only listens to jazz music cranked loud enough to drown out his voice. Pray for green lights because he snaps awake the instant the gas guzzling SUV stops moving.

1:45 p.m. Arrive home tired and out of gas. Leave Baby in carseat in car and tiptoe into the house. Pour a glass of water and flip through the mail, unable to concentrate. Begin to play phone messages from more people who wonder why they don't hear from you.

1:48 p.m. Baby wakes up commanding attention.

1:55 - 2:45 p.m. Repeat morning routine. Take five bites of a banana. Pour a glass of water. Place Baby in cradle (another item you had to have) and sit down.

2:45 p.m. Begin to doze off watching an old 'Andy Griffith' rerun. The phone rings, you startle and answer it. Someone is offering you a dry cleaning discount.

3:02 p.m. Baby is asleep. A miracle! Your eyes are heavy. The world is quiet... Suddenly you realize you drive carpool and must get to school to pick up your older child. Drive to school with cool jazz blaring. Ignore stares of other parents wondering why someone your age still listens to music so loudly. Since your rear windows are tinted, no one sees Baby thrashing in the back seat.

3:25 p.m. Take Big Sister and Un-napped Baby to grocery store, the place where you keep all your food. Wander aimlessly up and down aisles, wondering what to make for dinner. Rely on the wisdom of a 10-year-old. Buy an extra package of Parmesan cheese, just in case.

3:50 p.m. While in the check out lane, growl at the latest cover of People featuring another celebrity mom with a baby the same age as yours looking more fabulous than ever. Mutter complaints to God about why your workout of lifting a 15-lb. baby in an 8-lb. car seat all day is not toning your arms like the picture. What about not even sitting down?

4:19 p.m. Big sister changes Baby while you put away the groceries and pour a glass of water. Wonder why you now have five packages of Parmesan cheese, Oreos and Popsicles but nothing for dinner.

4:30 p.m. Sister saunters into room. "Oh Mom, I forgot to tell you that something is wrong with my toilet and I need black shoes for my class play tomorrow."

4:48 p.m. Baby must eat right now. Feed him in ten minutes and clean up for twenty.

5:20 p.m. Ask Sister to mind Baby while you go upstairs to the bathroom. Hear Baby's screams reverberating through the floor. Rush downstairs without zipping jeans to find Sister blowing into Baby's face like a window fan - her technique to quiet him. Carry red-faced, sobbing Baby to safety and pour yourself a glass of water.

5:30 p.m. Call your husband on his cell and find out he is on his way home from work. Wait for him at the end of the driveway.

6:20 p.m. Remember the glass of water in the kitchen and discover it is warm.

6:30 p.m. Remember the laundry you left in the washer all day. Throw it it in the dryer. Even your new top with Big Sister's clothes. Later on, discover how many pieces of gum she had in her pocket.

7:05 p.m. Run over to Wal-Mart for the shoes and some Tylenol.

7:40 p.m. Somehow cook a family dinner. Baby notices everyone focused on their food and demands to be fed. Nurse Baby while eating. Watch in dismay as he yanks your placement out from underneath your plate of spaghetti.

8:20 p.m. The family takes Baby for a short walk. It takes 15 minutes to locate shoes, keys and the dog's leash.

9:00 p.m. After the walk, your Hubby tells you to take some time for yourself while he puts the kids to bed. Tip-toe upstairs to put away laundry. Find a warm glass of water on the bathroom counter.

9:07 p.m. You miss Baby on your hip and Sister chatting away. Tip-toe downstairs to peek. Hubby smiles and shakes his head at you.

9:11 p.m. While in Baby's room laying out his outfit for tomorrow, notice a warm glass of water on his upper closet shelf.

9:12 - 10:15 p.m. Big Sis goes back to bed. And back to bed. And back to bed.

10:20 p.m. Time for Baby's last feeding of the day. Throw on an old T-shirt and cuddle with him.

10:35 p.m. Sister is asleep. Baby is asleep. The dog is in her crate and the dishwasher is on. You hurry to fall asleep before someone needs you again. You've never been more tired or felt more complete.

10:37 p.m. Kiss Hubby good nite. Fall asleep thanking God for this ever-changing and wonderful season of nurturing your precious children - His gifts. Smile. Take a deep breath. While snuggling into your pillow, tell yourself you really must remember to wash your sheets tomorrow.

Invisible Love

Currently, there is lots of media attention being paid to online relationships – especially ones where it turns out the people have never even met but have fallen deeply in love. These relationships have lasted for years and are real in every way: deep sharing occurs, trust is established, the other is valued, life is celebrated, gifts are exchanged and lives are impacted. All without ever having met.

People are eager and willing to enter into and continue relationships based upon information presented online. They open their lives, hearts and wallets – all without ever having met the other person. (The skeptic in me pictures the person on the other end as some nut living in his grandmother's basement with his PC parked next to the water heater.)

What amazing trust – offered without question sometimes even more quickly than face to face relationships. People investing in these "invisible" relationships confidently defend their actions by declaring it is “love”.

At the core of everyone is a deep need to be loved and cherished. The fact that people would search where there is no complete answer tells us how desperate humans have become. They have completely missed the reason why God created humans in the first place.

This has me thinking about God’s “invisible love”.

What about that? God’s love is not only invisible in today’s economy it is not even valued as much as that invisible love from a keyboard miles away typing into our souls. Why, I wonder, are people so willing to engage in an invisible relationship online rather than develop a real relationship with God through Jesus Christ? Trust is given these online “friends” while real relationships wait on the side lines. And both are equal? In today’s culture I guess so. But not in God’s eyes.

Let’s focus our kids on who is real and investing in their lives. Even though they can’t see God, he is real. Even though they can see the internet icon, faceless “friends” are not real. We’ve got our work cut out for us, haven’t we? Especially with younger kids who are still concrete thinkers.

This is the question parents of today must face. They must know who else is competing for their children’s attention and they must balance that with everyday life. To fail in this is to lose another generation to self-focus and regulate seeking God once again to an option on some life-menu of our own design.

The thing that should shake us to our core is the "menu". When we order, we think we can go back another time and pick something else. We’re fooled into thinking that all choices are equal. They’re not. What we do with our relationship with God is truly more important than anything else. Our kids need to know what that looks like and how much more real that is in their techno-online-CGI-instant world. Just because they cannot see or touch it, does not mean we can not point them to the evidence of how real God is.

This will look different for each child. My prayer is for each parent to find that ah-ha connection where you are able to communicate the real love of a real God to your child. For me, it means I have lots of conversations with God. He loves our kids more than we do, so I’d say we have the best resource available. And we don’t even have to Google him.

Baby "Thrash-Herself-to-Sleep"

When I became a mother for the first time, I was a young woman in awe. In awe of the life I had carried, birthed and would now parent. I marveled at her innocent round cheeks and button nose, and her tiny fingers and toes. Everything about her enthralled me. Every material thing we had acquired to support her new life delighted me. Each onesie was carefully washed and sorted. Her every outfit was thought out with care. I remember feeling so special to be able to have this precious baby in my life, and learning what it meant to share life with her was a treasure of discoveries.

While pregnant, I had refinished a rocking chair and repainted in a glossy white. It was topped with a soft colored pillow set to protect my back and seat where I would no doubt spend countless hours rocking my little lamb to sleep with the gentle night light glowing behind our special chair in her sweet nursery.

Imagine my surprise when it didn’t turn out like that at all! This little lamb had her own idea about what it meant to fall asleep as early as two weeks of age. It didn’t include me. Following the evening bath, feeding, diapers and pajamas, I would wrap her in a receiving blanket, put on soft music and gather her in my arms. My idea was to rock her slowly to sleep and then tip-toe to the crib. Her idea was to go to sleep on her own by wiggling and thrashing about for several minutes before entering baby dreamland. She didn’t want my arms anywhere near her. In fact, she didn’t want me anywhere near her.

It took a few weeks to believe that what I was experiencing was truly what she wanted. It was amazing to see how fast she would put herself to sleep in this fashion. I was left to step backwards out of her room, staring unblinking at that new life in the crib who didn’t agree with my romantic plan for nite-nite time.

Aren't we all guilty of something like this when it comes to what we think it should be or what we want it to be with our children? We have our own mental picture whether it’s based on our own history, baggage – or imagination – and when it doesn't work, we stutter and wonder what to do next. Do we force things to fit our idea? Do we flow? Aren’t we the parents?

We are the parents, but I think we can learn to listen and notice who our children are and what their “style” is. Go with what you learn from them about who they are and what they need individually. One child may need more assurance, another might need more direction. One may be sensitive, one may be wild. No one parenting recipe could possibly cover multiple “styles”.

Even though my baby and I weren't doing bedtime the way I had dreamed about, I knew she knew I loved her as I left her to thrash away. I just had to learn to show my love in an understanding way that honored her needs. This was okay.

It takes some work and prayer, but I believe we can give each of our children the parental love they need in the way they need it. Would you buy an artist skis? Unless they are a skiing artist, you probably wouldn't. Would you expect abstract thinking from a kindergartner? Is it okay if your teenager doesn't want their driver’s license at the same time all their friends do? What if your kid doesn't want to play a sport? We need to learn what excites our kids and where their strengths lie. Find out their dreams and concerns and tailor-make your relationship to suit their personality and goals. And above all, help them to feel secure and loved in their own skin because of exactly who they are.

A really good book that helps parents and grandparents understand different love languages is The Five Love Languages of Children, by Gary D. Chapman.

Catching a Wild Squirrel

Ever tried to catch a squirrel? I did when I was in third grade. We were at Nana’s house and found an old bird cage in the attic. Now, what could be better than making a trail of nuts leading to the door of the cage? Watching from the front steps, we waited for a squirrel to fall for our trap. It didn’t take long for one to pounce its way – peanut by peanut – to the cage door. After each swallow, she would jerk her head up and look left and right. Satisfied that nothing was going to get her, she continued her way right into that rusty white bird cage.

None of us expected the door to slam shut the way it did. I guess it was the weight of a squirrel occupying a cage meant for a tender bird. BAM! Our squirrel was suddenly in prison – and she didn't know what had happened or what to do. She began to screech, jump and throw herself against the curved walls of that cage. We were terrified and screamed for Nana.

As we clung to each other from the safety of the door to the house, Nana calmly walked up to the cage, said something soothing to the squirrel and lifted the hatch door. Our experimental pet bolted out as if shot by a cannon.

Those moments where the terrified squirrel screamed and thrashed inside the attic bird cage have remained etched in my mind to this day.

What does this have to do with parenting? It reminds me of the day I tried to teach my kindergartner how to swallow a pill.

The medicine she needed for her ear infection only came in a pill that had to be swallowed. We had been working on the chew-able ones but never the swallowing kind. I got her pill ready along with a small glass of water and set them on the kitchen counter, then called her over to me. Casually, I explained that because her ear infection was so bad, the medicine that the doctor wanted her to take for it came in a special pill for her to swallow. Mommie would show her how it’s done and she could go right back to coloring.

No sooner had I delivered what I believed to be one of my more successful intros than she turned into that caged squirrel at Nana’s house. Only this time she was banging into the kitchen cabinets and writhing on the floor howling with anticipatory fear. No amount of coaxing could get her to stand up, much less lift her chin from the place on her chest where she had embedded it.
I am not exaggerating when I say that it took me 90 minutes of gentle talking, soothing sentence-prayers and patience while sitting on the kitchen floor near her to calm her. Finally, she was able to “de-squirrel” herself and listen again. She took a deep breath and we stood up. I told her what to do and she bravely followed each step. One small gulp and the pill had entered her system, ready to do its work.

“Well that’s easy!!!” my accomplished girl proudly declared. After a congratulatory hug, she was off to finish coloring, but we both knew a significant step had been reached on her journey toward growing up.'

That girl is now a young wife with more to celebrate than swallowing a small pill, but I treasure each and every detail that leads up to the gifted woman and friend she has become.

Overheard at Target

In Target, my favorite endcap display is the one that says “As Seen on TV” and has all the gagets and gizmos offered for sale on TV if you just call an 800 number. Yet here they are and I didn’t have to make a call!

Well, here are some actual comments I’ve heard from parents directed at their kids:

“You just can’t be good, can you?!!”

“Stop it, I mean it, stop it. That’s the 10th time I’ve said this so STOP IT!!!”

“Now you can’t have your birthday party!!”

“How many times do I have to tell you this!!!”

“You just don’t want to listen, do you???”

“Your father should not have let you do that, he’s wrong.”

“You are a bad girl/boy!!!”

“Kid for sale!”

“You two are such brats, shut up!!!”

“I can’t WAIT til you go back to school!!”

“She’s a terror.”

“I will take away your Christmas presents.”

“You can’t ever have ice cream again.”

“How many times have I told you to leave your boots by the door???!”

Most of these comments were made under duress. Many of them were made in public as a frazzled parent was pushing a grocery cart with several kids in tow. I have noticed that the children do not react to these comments, which tells me they are not new. And of course there will still be Christmas presents.

Empty threats. We might as well just recite the Periodic Table, that doesn’t make sense to little kids, either.

Here’s a way to de-personalize teaching opportunities – omit the personal pronouns. Instead of “You go put your boots away!” calmly state: “The boots belong by the door.” Carry this further: “Feet go on the floor” (resist following that by “not on the furniture”), “Dirty dishes go in the sink”, “China is not touched”, “Inside voices inside the store”, “The water bucket stays outside”. Short, simple and instructional. Say it in a non-negotiable, calm voice as if the entire solar system follows this procedure. Expect the kids to follow through.

If you are teaching public behavior in the store, then I would add a “we”. “We stay by the cart (or in the cart) in the store. We listen to mom.” (Then if they don’t, do the thing I mentioned in an earlier blog and promptly leave the store. Do not check out or finish shopping.) I used to let my kids pick out a couple of food items during a grocery store trip. They could not exceed our limit, and learned to self-edit or replace items if they wanted something different from another aisle. “Can I just have this?” “Sure, just put something else back.” The thinking and selection was up to them, not for me to narrate.

Every once in awhile I hear a parent encouraging their kids in public. Here is where I would use the personal pronouns big time to affirm positive behaviors or decisions. “You are doing a great job of standing in the hotdog line.” “That was so thoughtful the way you held your sister’s hand.” “Thanks for staying so close to me while we walk through the parking lot.” “You listened so well, way to go!!” “Wow, thanks for holding the door for us” “You were so polite, awesome job buddy!”

The point is to affirm the act, not the person. If we tell our kids “Mommy loves you because you stood in line so well,” that places the condition of love on their appropriate response and they might not always respond correctly. Better to say “Mommy loves you all the time”, period and save the affirmation of the act for a separate sentence. Little kids are very literal. When we were moving and told our six year old son we would be taking his room, he wondered how the room would fit on the truck and attach itself to the new house. Simple, short sentences work best. “Every THING inside your room will come to the new house.”

If you have ever been that empty-threat parent described above, it is never too late to sit with your kids and apologize for the words you have used and ask for their forgiveness. Then ask God to do some erasing of those memories and move on.

Let's Have A Longer School Year

Just the other day I heard that there is some legislative discussion to lengthen the American school year. The reasoning is three-fold: kids in other countries score better, American kids are forgetting too much over the summer and finally, while they are busy forgetting, they are getting fat.

Hmmm.

I think the school DAY is too long, not to mention an entire school YEAR. The school system with its mandated number of days, attendance and hours required is based upon herding large groups of people to and fro, getting their attention and then teaching. As a mom who home schooled both kids for chunks of time, I can attest that we did not need to include classroom transition, getting everyone's attention or ensuring that 27 others also understood something before we proceeded. By eliminating this lost teaching time, and teaching specifically to the personality and strength of each child, we made the most of each day and our school days did not need to be 7 hours long for me to believe "learning" had taken place.

Everyone needs a break from what they are doing so that they can be refreshed. In the past hundred years, American kids get the summer off. Workers look forward to 2 whole weeks off. Presidents golf. I don't fault any of this. When I worked in an office and stared at a computer screen all day I was told to get up every 45 minutes. When I was in college, I pioneered the idea of "taking a break" to an extreme, but the point is real - our brains need a break while assimilating new information.

A break does not mean sitting on the couch eating potato chips for hours, it simply means a break from what you were doing. I have had many little "work starters". The things I do while fully invested in a work project but use to deflect my mind for a bit. I play games and return to the project at hand refreshed and ready to tackle more mental challenges. My current "work starter" favorite is crocheting. While I am "not working" and developing finger callouses from yarn, my mind is tracing and moving in ways not used when I am reading or speaking or on my laptop. When I jump back in, I am crisper and ready to go for another long stretch.

Summer is a time for camps, vacations, jobs if you are old enough, and family. This is all educational. When I was at camp, I learned a craft. On vacation, I learned how to meet other people from around the country. I still refer to the learning experiences of my very first jobs. Everything we do and experience is about learning. Learning is not limited to a school day during a certain month.

And... what about all the things that happen after school? Just because they are not under the umbrella of a school system does not mean these experiences are not educational. Sports, volunteering, music, arts, clubs and yes, even good old play. That thing where you use your imagination - not a controller - and don't wait for something to do the thinking for you. The list goes on and on.

I know people who work 7 hours and get an A. I know people who work 3 hours and get an A. Is the "A" measured by the time it took to get there, or the final product?

The real problem is the American attitude about education, not how long the school year is. If our nation thinks it is about time spent at something "or else", we are too ignorant for our own good and will sit around and get fat, we are missing it. If our nation thinks it is all about competing with other countries so we should be looking over our shoulders and seeing what we can do to catch up, we are really missing it.

What happened to a defined educational plan and instilling the idea that it is an honor to be able to learn? That being educated is not a fill-in-the-blank process with easy answers? That an education is personal and has to be earned? Cheating only works for awhile. Learning how to learn lasts for a lifetime. So, I guess I did just vote to extend the school year...

The End of An Era

It finally happened. My youngest got their driver's license, passing his test the first time out. We were so focused on his last Behind The Wheel drive, the test the next day and going on a vacation the next day I didn't stop to think about what this milestone in his life means to me.

Because my kids are 10 years apart, every time something big happened to Big Sister, I could rejoice fully with her, because I still "had backup". Our little guy was so much younger that I didn't even blink! Her milestones were "firsts" for her... and for us.

Now that Number Two is 16, we are facing his firsts but they are also now our lasts. Now that we are back from vacation and he has driven off so comfortably and capably to a friend's house, I am having a big hit of what I call a "sissy mommie moment." I treasure everything that happens in my kids lives in my heart. Each bullet item is extra special. Sometimes that's as far as it goes, sometimes they see me giddy with glee for them.

With Number Two's licensing, I am no longer his driver. I am no longer going to be texted to find out when I can get there to pick him up. No longer will I spend extra time on the road going back and forth and back and forth. I am no longer going to drop him off and watch him walk into a building before I drive away. It's over, gulp. This is even harder because he was so appreciate of his rides - like how we would take a day off to drive him 90 minutes away to his favorite local ski area. Now he is appreciative and earnest about asking for the use of a car and even goes so far as to be sure to know what time I will need it in order to get it back in time.

So, another era is over in our parenting journey just as another era has begun in our son's life journey. Tears for growing up too quickly and a couple more for what a great man he is working on becoming. It's our milestone, too.

Memory Markers

The Bible is full of references to markers that have been put in place so that all who pass by in the future will think about and honor what God had done in that special spot. This is a picture of Jacob's well where Jesus met the infamous "woman at the well". How significant that that encounter took place at such a memory-filled location so important in the Old Testament.

This gets me thinking. What if we do something like that within our own families? What if we mark events or dates and celebrate its wonder as a family? What a way to cement us together as the team you never get traded from!


Here are some things we have either celebrated or know people who have:

- Missing front teeth
- New Year's Eve as a family reviewing the year in pictures
- The First day of school (ice cream?)
- Turning 13 with a purity weekend away spent with a parent
- Learning to ride a bike (or skate, or climb, etc.)
- Learning a new skill (cooking, woodworking, etc.)
- Helping in the community as a family
- Teaching a pet to master a new trick
- Donating outgrown toys
- Starting high school
- Make annual birthday movies adding to them each year
- Paint a family mural
- Start a new family holiday tradition

The ideas are endless. The idea is that as you gather to remember and celebrate, you reinforce your family and pause to reflect on how God has been with you. The more you celebrate, the more opportunities you will have to delight in what God has done - both big and small. Talk about a living legacy!

The Perfect Family

This is a picture of the Cleaver family that I have in my office. I keep it as a reminder for two reasons. 1. Nostalgia - I grew up watching the Leave It To Beaver re-runs after school and there aren't too many moral witnesses today. 2. Nothing is perfect - and many people speak against this 1950's family presentation because everything just looked too good.

Perhaps because I grew up without moral coaching and parents overly focused on what our image would look like to others, I can identify in a skewed way with the "picture perfect" Cleaver family. My family really looked good on the outside. The difference is, in the show, the parents were not living for outside opinion and spent time with their kids --- even when the boys went upstairs and spent a lot of time in their room!

Like the Cleaver boys, I too spent a lot of growing up time in my room, but without that parental investment. Wally and Beaver had their own adventures, but they always focused on home and knew their parents were there with family values. Not just because it's what would look good, but because it was the moral thing to do.

Contrast my early experience and blend it with the Cleavers and you get a picture of my family now. While my family of origin lived for achievement, acquisition and public opinion, my family now lives to love God and others. We do not focus on ourselves nor do we care how we look to others. We do our best and leave it there.

My kids and their friends freely hang out with us and while they do retreat to their rooms, they know they are always invited to join us and that they do. Our focus on what things will look like to others centers around representing God well. We embrace the idea that we are who we are and chuckle that no one will always agree with what we do, look like or say. If our intent is God-focused, then so be it.

We don't have a custom home, name-brand car or a story to tell socially about our latest trip or purchase. No designer furniture or clothes or name-dropping here. In that respect, I am probably a huge disappointment to my parents. Funny thing, along the way I have met a range of people including corporate CEOs, artists, brilliant thinkers and talented leaders and creative ones. The only difference is that none of us exist to impress others and we all have experienced great connections as we value one another.

Gotta love honoring that ol' dignity!