Pick Your Expert Carefully

One of the cable news networks was doing a piece about a mom who contacted the FCC because ABC ran an ad for one of their steamy nighttime shows during Good Morning America. She was eating breakfast with her 8-year-old son when the ad appeared - a naked man and woman rather busy in bed. She thought this had no place being aired when young children could see it.

So the host brought in three people to discuss this. One was a parenting blogger, one was a a child psychologist and family therapist and the other was a "parenting expert". The first two descriptions pretty much tell me about their qualifications, but the third one? We were not told what made that woman an "expert". But she does have a website.

Let me tell you what the Expert said. Unlike her fellow panelists, she thought it was perfectly fine for a child to see nudity any time of the day or night. After all, they were doing what their parents do anyway and other cultures let their children see things like this.

When the others protested saying they did not want images thrust upon their children that they could not control or limit, the Expert came back saying that violence was far worse than that. Then she shared statistics about media violence. The two others brought the conversation back on topic. The Psychologist  said that developmentally a child that age is not ready for images about the body in that manner, and that viewing them could even be frightening. The Blogger said we cannot take back images once our children see them.

The Expert insisted that there were far worse things than this and that it was perfectly fine.

This interaction demonstrates the often repeated saying that there is a statistic to back up everything - any which way. But we can be smarter than that. We don't need to go looking for some fact to back up what we think. We can think what we do, period. Some times, we might be the only one in the crowd taking a stand. I sure know what that feels like. Other times, we may have some company. Either way, we are standing up for what we believe is in the best interest of our children.

Sometimes with further information, we may change our minds. I've done that. A fierce "no" has become an "okay" instead. When that is the case, I explain why I updated my thinking. Then my children learn that I am learning, too. The same is true when I have had to revoke a permission. "I know we had told you that it would be okay to ______, but here is some information that now has me concerned:________."  All is presented calmly and clearly. They know I am placing their best interests first.

The one thing I won't do is do what an expert says just because they say it. I evaluate it within the framework established for my family and check their philosophy. Sometimes I completely disagree with a philosophy but there is a really good nugget I can use. So I use the nugget.

But this time, there wasn't anything I could use from that expert. In my humble opinion, it is not society's job to decide when and what my child sees or experiences. That's my job.

P.S. The show in the ad is described by ABC as "more than just your normal story of infidelity".

Everything Isn't Always As It Seems

This summer I planted two tomato plants. At first I didn't even think they would grow because nothing seemed to happen for weeks. I just kept watering them. Suddenly, the plant on the right really sprouted. I kept watering both but thought we would probably lose the one on the left. Every few days the one on the right continued to surprise me and have another growth spurt.  It even gave birth to some green tomatoes. The one on the left finally decided to grow. It still hasn't produced any tomatoes, but it is flowering like crazy and is now taller than the one on the right.

I sure wouldn't have predicted this.

Isn't this just like life? Things look one way to us but often turn out surprisingly different once they unfold. Or, we just get more information.

Simple things like walking in the room and finding a broken lamp on the floor and several sheepish kids standing nearby. If we were but to ask "What were you trying to accomplish?" rather than begin a tirade, we might find out they weren't throwing things but were trying to dust the lamp.

Simple things like hearing screams and walking in on your kids fighting and assuming the loudest one or the oldest one surely must have started it. That quiet one, that younger one may just have your number and is enjoying their secret power.

Medium things like thinking your child who does not like school is a disappointment or isn't very smart because that is what their grades say. Perhaps they do not learn well in a classroom setting catering to auditory, compliant learners? Maybe they need to walk around as they read? Or maybe they might need extra help?

Medium things like getting an incident report sent home from your child's high school noting that your son vandalized property and immediately yelling at him. After all, he is one of those teenage boys. If you were to ask him before accepting the report as valid, you might learn all he did was unplug some computer cables in the PC lab out of boredom and the teacher checked the "most appropriate" box on a poorly designed form.

Hard things like your daughter's most smiley friend is actually the one with the most problems or is actually deviously hurting your child behind your back. Just because someone looks you in the eye and is a charmer doesn't mean that is who they are when you aren't around. Worse yet, a child in emotional or physical pain could do the same thing.

And the worst thing like your own child faking you out. They are so nice and compliant and never make a noise. They must be good, right? After all, they are quiet and they are good because they never make a peep and do well in school and might even volunteer at church camp. They feed you the lines you want to hear and you believe them... only to find out later you were played as they racked up warrants and failures such as stealing your credit card and getting DUI's. They just schmoozed you to get by and keep you in tow.

I have met people in each of the above examples. One is even mine. The stupid vandalism citation. The school's form actually categorized it as "terrorism" and did I let them have it for such a broad category. And yes, we told our son not to disrupt the class even though his father and I would have probably done the same thing. No harm was intended.

The reason I like my tomato plants is because something good and unexpected is happening  and I like to think that good things happen in life and that we should be less narrow minded and more hopeful. And we just need to keep watering so we don't miss out.

I Didn't Treat My Kids The Same

Ever meet a family and wonder how one kid looks or acts nothing like anybody else? I love to look at features and movements and note familial similarities. Sometimes while walking behind a father and son as they enter Target I'll grin because they walk the same way or swing their arms the same. Once I saw a worried mother with her baby daughter in the cart with the exact same worried expression!

Most parents would say they tried to treat their children the same. If Tommy got a treat, so did Susie. It's only fair. If big sis gets her ears pierced at age 10, so will little sis. They all get to go to camp.

In my case I didn't treat my children the same for several reasons and in this order:
1. They were born 10 years apart
2. They had different temperaments
3. They were different genders
4. Our family situation was financially different each time

First-born daughter loved books from the moment she could sit up and hold a board book. She didn't want to be held and being sent to her room was paradise. There she could do her arts and crafts, draw or write. She read through the entire World Book Encyclopedia, one book at a time and remembered almost everything she ever read. School was important to her and so were her grades (for most of the time anyway).  Basketball was her love each year beginning in first grade.

She had a trust fund and wanted for nothing. Because of the trust, she was able to attend summer sleepover camps, including the prestigious Stanford Basketball Camp. She was able to purchase new wardrobes each school year as well as the class ring. She went to private schools and owned every piece of the uniform options. She had a cell phone and computer system rivaling most. She had great looking bedroom furniture. In addition, she went on several mission trips and vacations with high school friends. Thanks to her trust, she was able to apply to any college in the country and have all four years paid for. Anything we did as a family came out of the family coffers, not the trust. We lived in the same house through middle school and high school and enjoyed decorating and remodeling it.

Ten years later along came our son. I think the doctors blew the due date and induced him too early because he was smaller than a premie, jaundiced and screaming for weeks. When he finally hit 6 weeks old, the screaming stopped but he always wanted to be held. All the time. His favorite toys were rubbery, small and squishy. He was too impatient for books, although we could get through at least a bedtime story if we skipped some pages. He wanted to know how things worked. When he was 18 months old, we gave him a hammer and he went around our old deck hammering in nails. He was thrilled with parks, climbing towers and trees. School was and is a torture to be endured. In third grade all he brought home were pictures of dragons and monsters he drew during class. I worried that he didn't know how to draw people. If you sent him to his room he was mortified to be away from people. He tried a number of team sports but fell in love with skiing and going fast even more.

We lost our home and went bankrupt when he was 11 and I lost my job. Over the next few years we down sized, down sized and down sized again. We have sold or given away more stuff than we have. We weren't rich and we weren't hoarders, but all you need is a box or two of grandma's quilts and mom's china to start a pile. Not counting our home, we have moved 4 times in the past 5 years. The familiar homestead does not exist for our son. For him, the only thing familiar are the people. He got his furniture one piece at a time spread out over years. At one point, I noticed his feet looked too small for his 12-year old height and suggested we go buy a new pair of shoes. He had been curling his toes in order to spare us the shoe expense. The new pair I forced on him were 2 sizes bigger!

What a time to suffer financial hardship for a kid entering the expensive teen years. But as I reflect on it, it turned out to be a blessing. When things went south for us it was happening to a number of other families, too. When I would chat with worried mothers fretting about what they could no longer buy for their kids, I tried to get them to focus on the relationships first. Not that I liked counting every single penny but not having stuff wasn't as important as our relationships and our health.

We had to learn to wait for anything that wasn't going directly on the table. Even liquid hand pump soap became a luxury. We litterally saved our change for extras.  We learned together how to find the meat on sale and going to a movie became a very big deal. In short, we learned to appreciate the simple things and drew close in this quest. Here I thought we had been simple all along. But we went from buying Valentine's cards and gifts to making a special meal. We started a new family tradition.

Not only have I learned my children's temperments and love languages, I have learned to navigate life's challenges along with them. One thing that is the same is that they have been shown how to grow through trials and forge ahead.

Mom on Strike

 

I love to tell this true story.

There was a mom of two kids, ten years apart in age. She was also a wife and worked full-time and was taking graduate classes. Her full time job included a lot of  "on call" activities that could not be predicted. In addition to these roles,  she spent a minimum of 3 hours each day driving her kids to and from school in stop and go traffic. We all know that is simply a cue to pull your hair out, especially with the youngest one kicking at the back of the driver's seat and there is nothing you can do about it right then except take a deep breath.

Well this mom was making sure there was food in the refrigerator and on the table, doing the laundry and leading the call to arms regarding basic housekeeping. She was even beginning to experiment with recipes besides casseroles.

Day after day she tried her best to provide her family with clean surroundings, fresh food and guidance while supporting their diverse needs. One day, she had had enough of the lack of help and appreciation from them. She was tired of wiping down the kitchen counter again after someone else when she always left things clean.

"I'm done," she told her family. "I am going on strike. I don't feel that you guys appreciate what I do for you so from now on, I'm not going to do anything. Have at it." At first the eldest and the husband thought she was just on a mini rant and soon she'd be back. She just had to be kidding.

This mom kept her word. She made sure that the youngest was fed and his laundry done, but that was it.  She ate what she wanted, when she wanted and retreated at night to study or watch a decorating show. She was pleasant when she encountered her family members, but she did nothing for them. She didn't do anything against them either. She let go of her mental picture of how tidy things needed to be and even left her own dishes in the sink at times.

The strike lasted 6 months.

That mom was me. After a season, I didn't need to stay on strike. My family had learned what I did for them and I had relaxed from the stress of being my own wife. They learned to appreciate me and I learned I had been doing too much. I did not regret the decisions to start or end the strike. It had been worth it.

Fast forward a dozen years. Everyone pitches in now. Any one of us can flip a load of laundry or put the dishes away. Any one of us can take the full can of trash out without being prompted. And we all say thank you to who ever made dinner or cooked the eggs. And sometimes, just because, we leave the dishes in the sink overnight. Why not? It won't hurt anyone.

The World's Most Important Baby

Last week a baby boy with arguably the largest security team ever was born to Britain's Royal Couple. His birth, gender and name had been highly anticipated and diligently chronicled by the entire world. Imagine that? The entire world knows you are going to have a baby and has some level of interest!

This story is born out of the tragedy the young father suffered when his mother was killed before our eyes in a horrific car accident. His parents had divorced and had not even married out of love. 31 years later from the day that awkward young princess stood on the same hospital steps with her newborn son, this man stood lovingly with his arm tenderly guiding the wife he loved and his own new son. The facial expressions couldn't be more telling - or different. Things will be different this time. This child will still of course be in line to the throne, but his parents will be on the same page and he will be surrounded by their mutual love for one another in addition to their love for him.

Don't we like to hear stories where tragedy turns to triumph? This is such a story and it gives us hope as we watch this couple share their joy.

I think God lights off fireworks and holds parades for each newborn on earth - we just can't see it the way he does. Each new birth is the beginning of a new story in the lives of the people connected. It is fresh and pure and if need be, can be a break from the old. Each baby is the most important baby in the world, we just don't have the same jewels or palaces.

When we are blessed to influence a brand-new life, we can let go of old ghosts. How many people tell you something had been done way back to bitter old great grandma and they shrug? They think that is the way is has to be because that is the way it has always been. Ah, but we have the power with God's help to do something about that. I come from a long line of grudge-holders, but that stopped with me when I learned that it is God's job to handle that. Just because your entire family line has never played the piano doesn't mean you can't. We don't need to blame our circumstances or character on anything or anyone in the past.  We can move forward.

This royal baby reminds me of how eager we are to hear something positive and happy. But we can all have this thrill in our own lives, too. Just close your eyes and imagine the fountains and bugles God has set before you as he rejoices in you!

I Didn't Know It Would Be The Last Time

A collection of thoughts from a mother in the throes of realizing that when her youngest goes to boot camp before his senior year in high school, a whole new phase has already begun. 17 years went by far too fast.

My Son, I didn't know it would be the last time that:

-  We'd go to Starbucks and review homework while homeschooling (and you'd be more interested in the light shorting out than a history lesson)

-  You'd beg me for a second ride on the toy airplane ride mounted outside Wal Mart that wiggles for 3 minutes when you put two quarters in the slot

-  The lobster tank in the grocery meat department would fascinate you (and I'd have to pry you away)

-  You would call me Mommie

-  You slipped your hand in mine as we walked through a parking lot

-  Getting tucked in was part of your night time routine

-  You climbed on my lap and held on to the bend of my elbow for comfort

-  We bartered about the number of  items you could pick out while grocery shopping with me

-  You would play with your Legos and Bionicles

-  We couldn't leave Target without a visit to the Toy Department

- You would would be mesmerized by an outdoor fountain and stomp around through the spray

- I had to make you take a shower

- I would find a bouncy ball, small car and a rock in your pants pocket

- You would ask for yet another stretchy rubbery animal

- You would find my stapler and pound away on Post-It notes until it jammed or ran out

- You would have to sit in the back seat

- I would walk you through the parking lot and tell you to watch for cars

- You would be eager to take something apart (#gasgrill)

- Climbing a tree was your day's mission

- We had a thoughtful discussion about what you would bring for Show & Tell (I loved that you told a joke one time in first grade - "Mom, it's show and tell!!")

- The Scooby Do pillow would be on your bed

- You would ask if someone could "come over and play"


As you are learning this summer - it's the small things that make precious memories from home. These are some of the moments etched on my heart. I am so excited for what comes next and all the "firsts" just waiting for you. And for me. You've had about 100 in the past 7 weeks, and I love that the first time you got comedian Steven Wright's humor was in 7th grade!

Moody Blues Clues

Ever get a song "stuck in your head"? You know, where it plays over and over whether you want it to or not? Or, have you been driving and the radio plays a song from 7th grade and you remember the entire scene as if it were unfolding fresh today?

A few years ago while on church staff, a team of adults took half the children's choir to a local senior citizen's care facility to sing Christmas carols. We arrived at the appointed time and were shown the lounge where the children would sing. Then we waited as several dozen medium care seniors were wheeled in, one by one. Some sat upright and alert with tubes attached. Some were slumped over and appeared asleep with tubes attached. Some were clearly bewildered. Every eye looked tired and their frames were withered and weathered.

Watching the seniors being wheeled into a semi-circle and having their tubes and bags adjusted by dutiful aides, my heart ached for them. Most of them seemed quite out of it. A few of them brightened at the sight of the younger kids. I wondered if this was going to mean anything to the seniors and how the kids would react to such a non-traditional audience. I prayed we would be a blessing in some way.

We opened with a song or two from our recent Christmas musical. The kids sang well considering we had no music. Some seniors smiled, most remained unaffected.

Then our parent leader had us sing some classic Christmas carols that had not been part of the musical but are ones that everybody knows. As soon as we began "Away in a Manger" everything changed and a new energy entered the room. Every senior began to sing along with us, their faces lit up and their eyes bright. We kept going with "Jingle Bells", "Deck the Halls" and more. Each song brought out their thin voices and bright smiles all around. The children sensed what had happened, too. It was a memorable hour for all.

That day I learned how powerful words set to music really are, and how they lock themselves within us forever. We might not remember that we remember, but once reminded, all the verses will flow like the song on the radio you haven't heard in forever but can sing right along with. And some songs can bring life and peace into a tired and weary existence. Wow.

What if we sang more character-building messages than we spoke? What if we sang words of comfort and Bible verses? I believe they will come back and bless our children in their futures when least expected. As much as I like old Beatles music, I would much rather a worship song is on the tip of their memory because of what the those words can do.

I once had a tape with old nursery rhyme melodies set to Christian songs for my kids. It's a start. But maybe even "She Loves You Yeah Yeah Yeah" can be a comfort too? They sang it with mommy and daddy after all.

When our son was 4 years old, he heard us cranking up our Moody Blues CD in the living room. We had recently heard them in concert and I had more than enjoyed being the youngest person by far in the audience. He ran into his bedroom and came out ready to dance with us wearing his Blues Clues Halloween costume! Every time I hear "I Know You're Out There Somewhere", I remember that precious night with our earnest little boy.