Intentional

The last few years have held some life-changing experiences for my circle. Some have been amazing - my oldest got to take a fantastic trip to England with a school group. My middle was recognized by a film festival held at the United Nations. My youngest discovered a passion for running that she didn't know she had, and ended her cross country season with a first place finish in her class. From these things, each of my children have explored new things, stepped outside of their comfort zones. They've learned, and grown and experienced, and that is so valuable.

We've also seen some heartbreak. Two friends lost their husbands to cancer within just a few months of one another. We've faced some fears and obstacles getting to the point we're at with J's pituitary mass, and (finally!) next week we'll get to meet with the neurosurgeon to determine what's next. My stepmother lost her mom unexpectedly a few weeks ago.

I keep being reminded that things can change in a heartbeat. That in a brief moment, everything we know to be true could be different. 

This isn't new, or original. Lots of us have felt this way at times in our lives. We use these opportunities to become intentional. I am intentionally listening more closely to my kids and my spouse. I am intentionally taking a few extra minutes to laugh and give my dogs belly rubs. I am intentionally pausing for two or three minutes to take a few deep breaths and re-center myself in the midst of a busy day. I am intentionally making appointments to see my doctor. We're looking at vacations, and spending time together as a family. 

I'm being intentional. 

So often we get swept up in the day-to-day. I won't go so far as to say we're "just trying to survive" but it feels that way at times. We become almost robotic in our actions - the alarm goes off, and the routine kicks in. Not that there is anything wrong with routine, mind you, but sometimes, we need to go off script. We need to share an ice cream and conversation with a kiddo. We need to call a loved one and chat for 20 minutes. We need to take a few minutes to stand in the sun - eyes closed, face turned up, breathing deeply. Try and find a way to make some of that part of your routine. Pick what works for you - a coffee date, a short walk, shoot, I even just use a Sudoku app on my phone for an occasional brain break. Just remember to reach out to others around you, take care of yourself, and be intentional. 

That day that I Louis C. K.ed

I shared this on my Facebook the other day. When I did so, I did while mostly thinking about it from the side of the person who was hurt, not the person who had committed the hurt. 

Yesterday, I had an interesting experience. I was volunteering at an event where I was selling programs. At one point, I had 3 people approach me nearly simultaneously. From directly in front of me, a gentleman approached, and there was a woman right behind him. Mere moments later, as the first man reached into his pocket for money, a second man approached on my right, asking if I had singles to be able to make change for his $2 bills. (Programs are $5.) I did not, as I had not received any singles so far in the day, but the man already pulling out his cash said he had a couple of singles, and would be able to help the man to my right. 

The man in front of me, with the woman on his heels, purchased two programs, handed two one dollar bills to the man on the right, took the two dollar bill, and walked away. The man on my right then handed me one of the singles and two two dollar bills, took his program, and walked away. Then the woman stepped up.

"How much?" she asked. 

"Five dollars." I replied.

"Well, you just lost a sale. I was here before that man, you should have waited on me first. Stop giving preferential treatment to men." 

I had begun to interject with an "I'm sorry" - you see, I had thought she was with the first gentleman. She wasn't interested, however, and walked away. 

I was left a little dumbfounded. I certainly had not intended any slight, and there was only a few seconds between the first man walking away and the second walking away. Less than 10 seconds. I didn't view any of it as preferential treatment, as the first man and the second man held the bulk of conversation between themselves, while I waited to hand them their programs in exchange for the cash. Frankly, I was offended by her reaction. I'm standing alone with a cart full of programs (we usually have at least 2 or 3 of us together, but we were shorthanded, so I was flying solo) and three people come up within mere moments of one another. I'm making eye contact and responding to direct questions, smiling, and trying to be as helpful as I can, and it wasn't good enough for this woman who perceived my (volunteer!) work as insufficient. 

As I thought back about the entire exchange, trying to determine what went wrong, this quote came back to my mind. She was hurt by my actions, or at least offended enough by them that she was going to stand there long enough to make her statement. While I didn't intentionally slight her, she felt slighted, and that was real enough to her. 

Was I responsible for her feelings? No, I don't think so, but that doesn't mean that her feelings were invalid. I hope that she felt better after scolding me, and I hope that just maybe she stopped at one of the other spots where the school kids who we are selling the programs to support were standing and bought one from them. 

Where I Stand

This is a post I placed on my personal FB page, and I wanted to share it here. I am currently living in a country that in one breath declares it is the greatest in the world, and in the next breath tries to tear each other apart. We reached a deep divide over a period of a couple of days, and I watched from the sidelines as friends lashed out at one another, and strangers were cruel. Here were the thoughts I shared: 

Everyone has opinions, just on the off chance you haven't looked at your FB for the last, oh, 10 days or so.
Everyone (EVERYONE.) is entitled to those opinions.
You don't have to agree with theirs, and they don't have to agree with yours.
Voicing opinions is allowed. Understand that sometimes, voicing an opinion has consequences. Be prepared, if you elect to voice your opinion, for consequences.
Attacking one another - verbally, physically, cyber..ly? (You know what I mean.) is NOT OK. It's just not.
Some of you have voiced opinions that differ from mine. I hope at no time have ANY of you felt attacked, belittled or undermined by me.
I have quietly avoided posting much in regards to my opinions because unfortunately, some of you have either lashed out or had others lash out at you. It's hurtful, and I have no room in my heart for hurt, certainly not because I choose to share a thought or opinion.
Here's where I stand.
I stand for love.
I stand for respect.
I stand for honor.
I stand for my fellow man.
I stand so I can lift up, not knock down.
I stand so I can support, not be carried.
I stand for my children.
I stand for my spouse.
I stand for my siblings, my parents, my cousins, my family.
I stand for my path in this world.
I stand for you.
Even if we don't agree. Even if you won't stand for me. I stand for you.

That's where I stand.

On Giving Up and Giving Back

I shared a few days ago about how much I miss this space, but how difficult it has been to find words. My heart just wasn’t in it, I had quit. I wanted to be passionate about it, and I wasn’t anymore.

That’s hard for me to admit, because if there is anything I am not, a quitter is pretty much right there at the top of the list. I’m an adapter. A “roll with the punches” kind of person. Maybe it (whatever “it” is) isn’t going how I planned – no worries. Plan B. Or F. Or LL. I learned a long time ago that planning has value, but flexibility has MORE value. Know what your end goal is, but understand that the path to get there is NOT a straight line, no matter how hard you try.

So this “quitting” thing? It’s really not sat very well with me.

Part of my quit, I think, came from not having that end goal. There is no end goal with this space. It’s the best “roll with it” scenario I could have given myself! It’s MINE! I can do what I want to! I’m not here to make money, I don’t have a bunch of affiliate connections, I’ve got a few ads on here with the idea that maybe I’ll have a little income to cover the cost of my domain, but this isn’t a full time job or anything. I don’t promote the space because, well, it’s mine. It’s public, and sometimes I feel like I’ve written something that folks might want to read. Sometimes I write things that are important to me, and that I want others to know about. In general though? This is my space. It’s about me. It’s a place where I can share things that need more that 140 characters. I can document our lives a little, and one day the kids can look  back and share in some of the memories with me.  But there is no “end goal” – no target for hits per day. No revenue goals. Not even a posts per week goal.

With no goals, no guidelines, I didn’t have the focus to be here. To write here. I was so focused on doing other things, I lost the focus I needed to maintain this piece of me.

I’m not sad about it though. Really, this is just another step along the way, and my focus was in good places. I’ve been working, leading our elementary PTO, participating in charity events, and enjoying my family. We’ve travelled a little, visited some. I lost my grandfather, but celebrated an amazing man with people I love. I barely mentioned it, but a year ago, my 10 year old daughter and I participated in  St. Baldrick’s event and raised over $6,500 for pediatric cancer.

I’ve given. Time and again, I’ve given. I am not in a position to always give monetarily, but let me tell you something really, REALLY important.

It’s not always about the money.

More often than not, those folks you want to help? The group you want to support? They just need a little of your time. Can you work a school carnival booth? FANTASTIC. Your 30 minutes means the kids can play the games. Can you type? That group needs someone to put together some thank you letters to volunteers and donors. Clip Box Tops & such. Photocopy handouts for a teacher. Chaperone a field trip. Work a Book Fair. Read with students who are struggling readers. No kids in school? That’s ok – adopt a local elementary, they’ll likely adopt you right back.

Heart in other places? EMBRACE it. What can you do to help? Is there a family you know who is facing a challenge? Can you watch the kids for a couple hours so mom and dad get a break? Wash and vacuum the car? Come by and flip laundry, maybe sweep and mop the kitchen?

Volunteer at the food bank once a month. Offer to walk the dogs at the animal shelter. Visit the elderly – they may just need a friend.

Give back. Give of yourself. It doesn’t have to cost you a dime, but there is NOTHING that will fulfill you more.

I gave up a little here. I gave back in so many other places. I’m ok with that.

#SuitYourself and #YouSuitMe

Body image is such a difficult, personal thing. Women verbalize it more, but men face challenges as well. To compound the issue, we tend tear others down, especially when safely behind a keyboard and screen name. Somewhere along the way, society taught us that we will feel better knowing that someone feels worse.

I have a daughter who I am trying my DAMNEDEST to bring up to be strong in her confidence of herself. Having been what could generously be described as small my whole life, I know the feelings that my long, lean daughter might face. It crushed me the other morning when she came bouncing in to tell me what she weighed, and was excited because she had gained 3 pounds. I never, ever want her weight to be a focal point for her!

Many of you, my friends, are also raising kids. Let's work on teaching them 2 things -

First – that they are beautifully and wonderfully made. What some might perceive as flaws are an element of their design.  We are not all supposed to be the same (wouldn’t THAT be boring!?) and that they are loved, supported and fantastic, just like they are.

Second – that others around us are also beautiful and wonderful. Do your kids hear you laughing about someone’s appearance? Or making snide comments? Do you spend more time tearing others down or building them up? How do you talk about YOURSELF? Are you constantly focusing on a bulge, a bumpy area or a jiggly spot? What could you be saying (or NOT saying) that reaffirms for your kids that we’re all beautiful in our own, unique ways?

We’re entering the time of year where we all show a little more skin. Shorts, tank tops, and of course the dreaded swim suit. Here’s where we have the chance to make a difference.

An Atlanta-based radio morning show, The Bert Show, is kicking off summer with their second year of empowerment. They are encouraging us all to take a swimsuit selfie and post it – Instagram, Facebook, whatever, but be BOLD in knowing that you’re powerful, beautiful and confident. The hashtag being used is #SuitYourself. Read more about it here, and see how things went last year!

I want to go one step further. I want to follow that hashtag, and comment on as many of those folks as I can, sharing something I LOVE about each person’s picture. I encourage you to do the same – if not as part of the #SuitYourself campaign, just make it a practice to compliment someone every single day. You will feel far better knowing that you’ve made someone smile than you ever would tearing someone down.

I’m going to add my own hashtag to the mix here, and comment with #YouSuitMe – because you do. You are who you are, and you should ROCK that confidence!

So – #SuitYourself (link to your photo in the comments for me!) and tell others #YouSuitMe!

The Truth Behind the “OVEL”

It started out being part of a normal, every day, mundane task. I was washing up a few dishes, standing at the sink, when it caught my eye.

I’m not sure why it did, just then. It had been there forever, a fact verified by the layer of dust across it. I’d stood there at the sink, peeking out that same window countless times. It was always there. I just didn’t notice it anymore.



I was perplexed by it at first. It was familiar, and yet, it was “off” – I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what it was… Four beads. Letters. O. V. E. L. The E was even backwards. Covered in dust, neglected. Hanging in the window, obviously meant to shine, it now looked meaningless and out of place.
And then I took it down. I rinsed the strand of beads in the water, dried it off gently to not break the string. I slid the L back to it’s rightful spot. And I smiled.

Because in that moment, I found love.

Our daughter had strung those beads a few years ago. The E was still backwards – it was an imperfect love, but it was love just the same. And once I put a little effort into it, it shone and glistened again in the sunlight.



I put it back in that sunny spot on the kitchen window. It’s my intention to keep it shining, glowing with it’s colors. But it was reassuring to know that, even if it had been neglected a bit, just a little work had made it imperfectly beautiful again.

Here’s to always finding the love you may have forgotten was there. Here’s to taking a few minutes to make it shine brightly as part of your every day. And here’s to knowing that it’s not meant to be perfect, but that doesn’t mean it’s not perfect for you!

~Linked this one up with PYHO with Shell at Things I Can't Say... Check out some of the other amazing posts...

equals

This week the mayor of my community presided over the exchanging of vows for several same-sex couples. These are not recognized legally as marriages, but the event was held in protest of a proposed amendment to our state constitution, wherein marriage would be define as, and limited to, between a man and a woman.

I would like to just take a moment to stand and provide slow applause to Mayor Kruzan and our community for their support of those who stood before them and declared their commitment to one another. Bravo.

I fully support the idea of providing equal rights to people who choose to remain committed to one another, who provide warm, loving households to children who might otherwise not have that option. To couples who don’t have the same belief system as I do. To people who just want to live their lives, and be granted the same opportunities as anyone else.

I have been granted the rights and opportunities to do a great many things. Much of that, sadly, is still because I’m a white heterosexual. Some of it is fairly “recent” because I’m also a woman. (There are also still some things where I’m viewed as lesser  because of that same physical characteristic sadly.)

I hope that one day, sooner rather than later, we’re all granted those same rights and privileges. Until then, I thank Mayor Kruzan and our community for their show of solidarity!

Time

It’s early, but I’ve been awake for hours. My mind is racing, I cannot rest.

So, I sit, waiting, willing words to come, to flow freely from my fingertips. To share with you the sorrows and joys that have been these last few weeks. And yet, I simply cannot. The words elude me.

I can feel them in my heart, but it’s like that moment when you are struggling for the one word that conveys the  meaning you need – it’s right there, on the tip of your tongue, and yet, that’s where it stays.

A few weeks ago, I received a phone call that my grandmother was ill. As the days passed, it became more and more clear that her time here was drawing to a close. She slipped from this life in the early hours of Saturday, December the 8th, with her husband of 64 years holding her hand, and her children at her side.

Plans were laid out to celebrate her life, and in those days that followed, we celebrated birthdays. My mother, my husband, my best friend’s daughter and another dear friend, all in a span of a few days.

And then, I got another phone call. My grandfather was showing signs of a stroke. Mild, they caught it early, but they were going to keep him overnight for observation. As the day progressed, he improved. We were all optimistic, and even still anticipating that he would be able to travel within a few days and we would hold my grandmother’s services as planned.

We were wrong. The doctors were wrong. And now, we are waiting for angels to carry him home, back to his bride, who undoubtedly is standing next to Peter waiting, smiling, for her husband.

Just hours ago, I posted this. In the last 30 minutes, my grandfather has woken up, despite the doctors dire predictions. He’s awake, he’s talking, laughing with my dad. Truly a miracle this Christmas. Truly.

And in the midst of all this, in the middle of my personal world crashing down around me, a small, sleepy town in Connecticut found their world destroyed by the actions of a young man hell-bent on destruction. 26 lives taken, 20 of them were only six or seven years old. Just babies.

My grandmother was 86. My grandfather is 90. They have lived long, fulfilling lives. They’ve raised children, seen their grandkids play sports, attended performances at the schools of their great-grandchildren. As hard as it is for us to lose them, they have lived. 

It’s so cliché. I know it is. But this past week, possibly more than any other week in my life, has encouraged me to embrace those I love, to spend time with them, to listen to them, to hug them. To be a strength for them when they need lifted up, and to let them lift me when I need that support.

Because they may be 86, or they may be six, but the time we have with them will always feel too short when we’ve reached the end of it.

Butterfly Spirit

I don’t know about you guys, but the holidays, for as much as I love them, stress me OUT. Lists of lists of things to do, shopping to finish, cleaning for guests, crowded stores, sold out items. It can be overwhelming. I have to remind myself every once in a while to just sit down and take a few minutes for myself – drink a cup of tea, close my eyes and just relax.

Several weeks back, I received a CD in the mail from Jennifer Farmer. This CD, Super Hero Meditation Practice featured a pair of meditation exercises, each one less than 30 minutes. PERFECT for taking a quick break and just refreshing. At the height of a really stressful day, I stood up from my desk, hit play on the first meditation, and just laid down on the floor.

Within just a few minutes, I could feel the tension easing out of my shoulders. Soft, soothing instruction guided me through relaxation and refocus, releasing negative thoughts and energies. I came back to my day refreshed and ready to go.

You know, not stressed out. Awesome.

The second part of the CD is a focus on self-affirmation, reminding us that we are strong and capable. As I finished the second meditation, my thought was “that would be a great way to wake up every morning!”

Below you can find more information on Jennifer and how to get a copy of her meditations – if you’re looking for a good way to reduce stress and refocus on the strength within, this would be perfect!

The Super Hero Meditation Practice CD or Digital Copy can be purchased directly off Jennifer’s web site http://butterflyspiritconnections.com/store.htm

· $24.99 for the CD includes shipping

· $14.99 for Digital Copy

· Follow her on Twitter https://twitter.com/JFMedium

· Like her on facebook for a free meditation download - http://www.facebook.com/JenniferFarmerMedium

· Want More? - 11 minute healing meditation on YouTube - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zg3bgF-AqyA&feature=plcp

About Jennifer Farmer:

Jennifer is one of the few psychics and mediums, whom have been personally tested by Bob Olson, she is extraordinarily gifted with the ability to communicate with spirits.  Jennifer's abilities are totally natural, and continue to evolve and strengthen.  She is genuine in her concern for the well-being of all her clients and with a delicate and sensitive touch, she's able to shift and expand the awareness in her clients.  This shift is not only healing, but also empowering and life changing.  
Jennifer believes Meditation is a pathway to higher consciousness, intuition and your inner spirit where clarity can be found. With intuitive clarity, decisions on how to proceed become clearer.  You gain a sense of direction that is right for you. With practice, you increase the trust your of your inner-spirit and develop the courage to make changes when necessary. As result, you are more confident in yourself and decision making becomes easier and less traumatic effect on your overall wellbeing. To find out more about Jennifer, visit her website at www.JenniferFarmer.com.

Disclosure: I was provided a copy of Butterfly Spirit Connections : Super Hero Meditation Practice at no cost for review purposes. I received no other compensation, monetary or otherwise. The opinions contained in this post are based on my own experience with this product.

Prayers and Parenting

As did so many of us, I woke this morning to the reports of tragedy in Colorado.

So much violence, so many lives changed.

There was a great deal of conversation on social media about the ages of some of those attending, as the media had latched on to the 3 month old who was injured in the shooting. Or not injured, but taken to the hospital as a precaution. I’m not really sure, as the media reports on the child are conflicting as I write this. Either way, a 3 month old was present at this midnight showing, as were (reportedly) kids ranging in ages like six and nine. The mere presence of the infant has caused a bit of grumbling amongst the masses.

Lots of armchair parenting, frequently from people who are not parents themselves.

Here’s the thing, from my perspective. I have two sons, nine and 11, and a daughter who is eight. We go to drive-in movies, and by their mere nature, the first movie doesn’t start until around 10:00pm, and the second movie of the drive-in double feature usually wraps up between 1:30 and 2:00am. We have made it a point, as part of our summer, to attend at least one drive-in show each year since 2007, when my daughter was 3.

Now, I recognize that the drive in is “different” and more “family friendly” than going to something like a midnight release of Dark Knight Rising, but there’s some transition here, so bear with me a minute, k?

When one becomes a fan of a franchise like Batman, or Harry Potter, or Star Wars or Star Trek or Lord of the Rings or whatever it is that you’ve picked, there are experiences that you may have that are opportunistic. There are times when you KNOW you can join up with like-minded people and share in those experiences. Premieres? They count. And kids? Like Batman. We don’t go to movie theaters as a general rule, but if my sons were WAY into the Batman franchise? We could have been at a theater last night.

Young people, maybe even new parents, also could be way into Batman. And little ones? They’re pretty easy to keep satisfied. They also already have totally whacked sleep schedules, meaning said parents also have totally whacked sleep schedules. Do I think taking the infant to the movie was wrong?

Nope.

I think you had a parent or parents who wanted to get out, enjoy the experience, and took the baby with them. I know LOTS of parents who are not comfortable entrusting their newborn with someone else, or who are exclusively breastfeeding, or whatever, and so they go and do things, and experience life, WITH THEIR CHILD. Because that’s how they’ve chosen to parent. And good for them. Good for them for living their lives, and still being parents. Who am I to judge that? Yes, even at midnight. I’d certainly prefer that to the parent arrested in my town yesterday after her two year old died from traumatic brain injuries and allegations of horrible abuse came out. I prefer it to the disengaged parents who don’t interact with their children at all. I prefer it to the parents I’ve read about who leave very young children at home alone, or in a vehicle, while they go on and do the things they want to do.

Does that mean it’s right for everyone? Nope. Perhaps it’s not the choice you or I would have made, perhaps our parenting styles are different. But what is right for you or me may not be for someone else. 

It is our differences that help us raise our children to be strong, unique individuals. The differences that help us learn and grow as a society.

If we spent less time pointing fingers at what we perceive as parenting failures by others, and more time BEING parents to our own kids, this world would be a better place.

For now, I suggest we hold the people of Aurora, the families and friends of all those affected, in our thoughts and prayers. Pray for the survivors, for healing and for hope. And hug those you love, for we never know what tomorrow may hold.

I Vow

My husband and I celebrated our 11th wedding anniversary last weekend. Truth be told, it sort of snuck up on both of us. My mom had called to see if the kids could come spend the night at her house (her upcoming schedule meant it was going to be 3+ weeks before she would be able to visit with them again – that’s a LOT of gap for my mom & kids!), so we jumped all over that.

After I had dropped them off and returned home, we realized that it was our anniversary weekend. I had a gift card for Olive Garden, and we had date night.

It was lovely.

Fast forward to today… I was playing on Pinterest and stumbled across a really great idea. (I guess that’s kind of the point of Pinterest, huh?)

A couple had written their own vows, and had them beautifully laid out into two prints – a set of his words and a set of hers. What I saw was a photo of the two of them together, in their wedding finery, just their torsos and hands, holding the vows prints.

When we got married, it was a very small, simple civil ceremony. No writing of our own vows, nothing elaborate. But?

It let me do this today :

I’m diggin’ it. And? I intentionally did it so that I can just print it out. A simple frame, and it’s going in to OUR bedroom too.

Is it as pretty as what they had?

My very first thought was no. And then? I looked at the words, and read each piece, and you know what?

It’s gorgeous. Because it’s ours.

Happy anniversary, honey. The first eleven years has been a blast. Let’s see what the next eleven have in store for us!

Speak up, or Let it Ride?

The first time I ever saw the term, I knew immediately that we all knew a few of them. We all hope to avoid them, but it’s inevitable. We’re going to be stuck with one or two (at LEAST) in our years as mothers.

We pray that we never find ourselves being one.

Motherbitches – a term coined by Shell at Things I Can’t Say.

Here’s the deal. My girl plays softball, and due to a variety of circumstances, the leagues are set up this year with kids from 5-8 years old on teams together in one league, and then 9-12 plays in another league. Last year, there were four leagues – 5/6, 7/8, 9/10 and 11/12. My girl is on a 5-8 team. That means that there are girls on the team who have never played softball and are only 5, and there are girls who are 8 and in their fourth year as players.

HUGE skills gap.

No biggie to me- my daughter only started last year, and while she’s made huge strides in her skill set, she still has a lot to learn, and honestly, she’s picking up a ton by just observing when they are working with the younger girls.

I have a couple of those big 5-gallon drink dispenser cooler things. You know – the kind you see on construction trucks and stuff. It can get crazy hot here in the summer, and I bring a jug of ice water to every game. Hydration is important! I provide cups for every girl, they’re welcome to help themselves, I clean up the cups after the game, yadda yadda. The point is, I make sure that there is water, enough for everyone, if they want it.

So, my daughter has made a couple mentions of how a pair of moms who help in the dugout “were mean to so-and-so, and yelled at her that she had to pay attention” after a little girl didn’t catch the instruction of a base coach and ended up tagged out. I shook off the comments, having not heard the exchange, and wondering if instruction was just being misconstrued.

Then, at a practice a couple weeks ago, the littlest girl on the team ran up and hugged me and said “I’m so glad you’re one of our coaches again!” (I had helped in the dugout a couple times when we were short-handed.) I didn’t think much about it, until she said something about liking me a lot more than the other ladies, and even then, I shrugged it off.

This last week, though, Sis was talking to me as we were driving home after her game, and she said to me “Mommy? “A”’s mom said tonight that she didn’t know why you kept bringing that jug since most of the girls bring a drink, and “L”’s mom laughed, and she sounded really mean about it.”

Really?

You want to gossip about other moms, and don’t even have the sense to do it when the girls are out in the field? You’re going to do it with them in the dugout with you?

Motherbitches.

So, now I’m trying to decide – if I say something to them, or to the coach, what do I say to not be a motherbitch? How do I approach this? The coach thanks me after each game and each practice for bringing the water, and I think he’s sincere, but if it’s an issue, it’s not like I *have* to lug 5 gallons of water to each game. Do I say anything at all, or just let it go, knowing we  only have a few weeks left? What if they’re talking about other moms in front of their daughters too? Or if they really are being mean to the girls, instead of being supportive and helping them learn? Am I over-reacting? After all, I’m working off a story told to me by an eight year old.

Hopefully, I’ll decide on something, even if the something is to do nothing, before 5 or so because we’re headed to the ballpark.

sigh.

Linking this up with Shell’s Pour Your Heart Out, because, well, that seemed doggone appropriate, since I stole her word! And because, frankly, I knew you guys out there would probably have some good ideas as to what the heck I should do, and this is really bugging me.

A little follow-up

I must extend my thanks to the folks over at BlogFrog -

I tweeted to them, crushed, when voting closed early on the Hero Mom Contest. It was, however, the weekend, and they weren’t on hand immediately.

In the meantime, a kind soul stepped up and offered to cover the cost for Colette’s trip.

Tonight, I was contacted by a representative at BlogFrog.

They acknowledged that an error had, in fact, taken place. Time zone issues, changes from the norm, human error. It happens.

They obviously couldn’t give me that last 30 minutes, couldn’t put me into that top five spot.

They did, however, graciously and humbly apologize, and offer up a $100 gift card, which would have been our “guaranteed” prize for being in the top 5.

That card is, of course, going to be sent to Colette & Tammy, for Colette to use as spending money while in Nova Scotia. (That was our “back-up” plan anyway, just in case we didn’t win the whole enchilada.)

So, while that $2,500 would have been great, and having that nice, big donation for the folks over at Alex’s Lemonade Stand Foundation would have been AWESOME, we’re so blessed. Blessed. Colette’s trip is paid for, she has some spending money, we’ve raised some awareness for pediatric cancer.

Thank you again  to all of you who put up with all my tweets and such begging for your votes, and special thanks to each of you who voted and shared!

We’ll Be O.K.

I can’t help but wonder if I’ll ever stop crying openly when I see the images from September 11, 2001.

Part of me wants to. Stop crying, that is. Sometimes the moment is so inopportune. Last year on the 10th, walking up the sidewalk to the front doors of my children’s school, the flag was at half-mast.

It hit me like a punch in the gut.

Another part of me never wants to be so numbed to those events that I don’t cry.

I want it to continue to impact me so strongly, and remind me to be the best person I can be.

This morning, my family gathered together and watched “102 Minutes that Changed America”. As I wept in front of my children, we talked. We talked about where we were, and the fear in our hearts. We talked about the brave men and women who went into those buildings to try to save those trapped inside.

For 102 minutes, my children absorbed the images, and they absorbed my broken heart.

My children came over to comfort me.

Jeep was just over the six-month mark when the attacks happened. Eli & Melissa – not even a thought yet.

It will never be as real to them as it is to those of us who spent hours in front of our televisions. As real as it is to those who cried out as they realized the first tower had fallen. Who stared in horror as the second fell.

It will never be as real to them as it is to those children who lost parents in the tragic events of that day. To the kids who were infants, just like Jeep, or even still waiting to make their entrance into this world, and will never know the love of their daddy, or remember the caress of their mother.

Part of me is grateful that my children do not know that reality. For them, it’s almost like a movie – images on a screen of buildings they never saw. A skyline they never knew, forever changed.

But the rest of me? That part of me is grateful that my children have seen me weep openly over those images. That we’ve talked about the  events of that day. That they are aware that it was real. It was not a movie.

Maybe one day, I won’t cry every time.

Today? I’ll cry. And that will be ok.

We will be ok.

An Open Letter to my Children

Dear kids,

I know that sometimes it drives you crazy when I tell you to do things like clean your room, or brush your hair, or go play outside for a while. I know you are convinced I am the meanest person in the world when I won’t let you spend the entire day parked in front of the PlayStation, or the Wii, or just the TV. I know it makes you angry when I insist that things like homework get done as soon as you get home from school.

Please know that I do these things because I love you.

I know you won’t really know that for a while, but one day you’ll know it, and that will have to be enough for me for now.

You see, God gave me a job to do when He gave me you. I am to raise responsible, well rounded, giving, loving people. Doing that – raising those people? It can be hard. For as much as I might drive you crazy, I promise there are days that you are also driving me crazy. That’s part of life. It won’t be perfect.

There will be days where we will fight (and as we approach the teen years, those will only get worse!) but I believe we can heal and grow from each dispute.

There will be days when we will feel overwhelmed, and maybe even a little smothered. Where we need to just walk away for a minute. Please know that you will always be able to walk back, and I will be waiting.

There will be times that I will help you accomplish something, and you’ll know I am helping. There will also be times when I will make you do it all on your own, and while it may not feel like it in that moment, I am still helping you. I am helping you to become independent, and showing you that you CAN do it.

Because you can.

You can do anything you truly put your heart in to.

It’s my job to make sure that we’ve put your heart in to the right place.

I love you.

Mommy

Insanity

I am so frustrated, and there isn’t a darn thing I can do about it.
You see, I mentioned here that our kids attend public schools. Personally, I think very highly of our school system. It’s not perfect, and I don’t expect it to be, but they are responsive to concerns, and have the education and well-being of our kids as their priority. And they’re working on improvement constantly.
*I* can see that.
Unfortunately, a number of others in our community can’t see it. Or choose not to. Or something.
We had some substantial changes to our school day schedules this year, both in the primary and secondary grade levels. I’m going to just talk in terms of elementary schools, because it’s what I know, but, understand that there were changes system-wide.
You see, for the last umpteen forevers, our school day ran from 9:00am-3:15pm. We had the shortest school day allowable under our state law. It was that way 25 years ago when I was a student in this system, and continued that way until this year.
This year, it’s different. On Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and Friday, we start at 8:35 am, and end the day at 3:50. On Wednesday, classes begin at 9:35, still ending at 3:50.
Why the changes? There are lots of reasons, and they are good, solid reasons. First, we’ve lengthened the instructional day, allowing for more uninterrupted learning time for the kids. Additionally, we were building in to the school day a period of time to allow for intervention for kids struggling with a concept, and enrichment for kids with a firm grasp of a concept. The idea behind this period of time was to make sure that each child was able to learn the skills they needed while not missing out on new instruction. It’s smart. It’s part of a process we’re going through as a corporation wherein each child has more opportunity and individual support in learning. You know, basically, the teachers want the kids to learn, and are finding great ways to make it happen.
Second, the late start on Wednesdays? That part is so that the teachers are guaranteed a period of time to meet with each other to review each student’s progress in different areas, and make sure they get the support they need. By building the meeting time into the week, it’s SET. That is the time where, by contract, the teachers are at work and working together to help our kids.
I think it’s great, and I support it whole-heartedly.
The problem is, a lot of others don’t. And frankly, their whining is getting on my nerves. It’s been years of “We don’t like what you’re doing or how you’re doing it.” from people, but when changes are made, no one likes that either!
I had seen this particular quote before, but it was used in the educator’s conference I attended  last week:
Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result.                                                         -Albert Einstein
Folks, if you weren’t happy with the results you were seeing, why on EARTH do you want us to keep educating the kids the same way!?
I’m a parent. Somewhere, I believe, in the definition/job description of being a parent, there is a phrase that goes something like “must be flexible and adaptable to situations never before imagined.”
Forgive me if I feel like this is one of those situations. And if all I want to do is scream “SHUT UP AND LET THEM TRY! THEY JUST WANT WHAT’S BEST FOR OUR KIDS, CAN WE GIVE IT A FAIR SHOT HERE!?”
And I’m not even gonna get into the example they’re setting for their kids – the attitudes we portray about education as parents will permeate how the kids view it.
So there.

laying a little groundwork

So. Many. Thoughts.

I have so many things jumbling around in my head, and I don’t know where to start! So, I’m just going to start, and hope you are able to follow.

I read a ton of blogs where those brave mothers home school their children. I am not one of those moms. While I likely have the ability to do home schooling, I recognize that I do not have the patience, and as a working mother, I also do not have the time.

I also read many blogs where children are sent to private schools.

I don’t do that, either.

I am the parent of three children who attend our public schools. I am the product of those same public schools. When I was in my early teens, my mother became an employee off, and teacher in, the same said public school system.

And I like our system.

(DON’T LEAVE YET! I know, I know – these are strange statements I am making, but ride this out with me for a little bit!)

I have a choice as a parent, you see. I could do one of those things listed above – home school, private school. I really could. It would require other sacrifices in our family, our lives would be different than they are today, but had we decided to go one of those routes, the opportunities were there for that.

That’s part of what parenting is, you see. A series of decisions that you make with the hope that they are the ones that will best serve your child(ren) over the long haul. And in our home, for our kids, one of those decisions was to embrace, not just attend, but EMBRACE, the public school process.

Over the last 5 years, I’ve gone from one kindergartener and volunteering in the library once a week to three kids in the same building, sitting on the PTO board, maintaining our school’s website, campaigning for a referendum, and being part of a culture that WANTS our kids to succeed. I’ve met people from different buildings, collaborated with other parents across our system, and communicated with our administration. Why? Because we all want the same thing – success for our kids. We have a common goal. We are not enemies.

There are some great things that are coming, and that have been building, in our school system. I’ve been lucky enough to get to see a bit of the inner workings of that process, and I am going to be sharing my thoughts on some of that here. Not right now. (Right now, I need to go to the office before my clients and coworkers kill me!) But soon, and going forward.

Proud Momma Moments

For as much time as we spend at the baseball diamonds, you’d think we were developing some serious star potential.

Yeah, probably not. We’re just having fun, and the kids are getting exercise and learning about working as a team. Truth is, really, my kids aren’t great players.

But our last two times out for Jeep’s games have done a great deal to make me proud. Not because he played phenomenally, or made the big catch, or scored the winning run.

Because he didn’t quit.

Even when all the other kids on his team had.

Last Thursday, it was HOT. The kind of hot that makes it hard to breathe because the air is humid and still, and just feels so thick you could cut it. The sun was intense. It was also the first day of summer vacation, and we had a bunch of kids who had clearly spent it playing. HARD.

The team was just wiped out. You could see it. And it didn’t take long for the other team to see it, and take advantage. We didn’t hit well, we didn’t pitch well, we didn’t defend.. um, at all. It was ugly.

But, out there, every pitch, Jeep was moving. He was playing second, and every single pitch, he was moving. He backed up his pitcher. He covered the base. He was down and ready.

And his coaches? They made a big deal out of it. They were full of praise and high fives, smiles and support. They even told him he could pick where he wanted to play tonight.

Tonight, our kids were back, and the energy was great. They played with enthusiasm, putting their best effort into what they were doing.  Jeep told the coach (of his own accord!) that he simply wanted to be played where he would provide the best benefit to the team.

After the game, the coach’s wife came up to me and said “I just wanted you to know that Jeep’s name comes up at our house every single day. He has just impressed Todd with his attitude and hustle, and he mentions it every single day.”

Beaming. This right here? This is a proud, proud momma.

Now if I could just get that same attitude and hustle at home. ;-)

**A couple quick notes! Feel free to grab that “Find Lauren” button in my side bar. We desperately want to bring her home. Also, Mario Marathon is getting VERY close – if you would like to donate to Child’s Play Charity, click the link in my sidebar to be connected through PayPal! Thanks!**

Ten

Ten years ago today, my daddy walked with me through the grass, between rows of our families and closest friends, towards the man who was about to become my husband.

Ten years ago today, I met him in a gazebo by a pond, surrounded by trees, decorated with grape vines and white flowers. We lit a candle, we said our vows, exchanged rings. We became husband and wife.

                

Much has changed in those ten years – we’ve survived building a house (while pregnant, closing on E’s one-month birthday, which meant we also moved with a newborn. Ugh.) We’ve expanded our family. We’ve lost loved ones. We’ve fought with one another, disagreed on how we wanted to handle discipline, pouted, whined and occasionally been plain mean.

We’ve also held each other together in our toughest times, stood by each other through challenges, celebrated our victories, and enjoyed building our life together. We’ve wept with joy as we welcomed our children. We have experienced things we never imagined getting to experience.

It’s not been perfect, no marriage is, and those who tell you differently are lying. It’s been more good than not, though. We’ve learned a great deal about ourselves and each other, and we continue to grow, learn and support each other.

Here’s to many more years.

 

Pause

I really, really love it when I get the right email at just the right time.

I have a couple different daily emails I signed up for that I just call “Encouragements” – I sought them out at a time when my relationship (and my patience!) with my oldest son was strained. It was a truly difficult time for me, and we still face the same battles, but I keep working to approach them in better ways.

I’m not always very good at that.

Approaching them in better ways.

I have been known to have a temper. I’ll be the first to admit, ever so sheepishly, that I’m a yeller. I have a fiery Irish temper that will flair up fast, and diffuse just as quickly.

That few moments in the middle?

Those are the ones where I hurt the people I love. I say mean things. I have full-on hissy fits. I’ve been known to throw a shoe, slam a door, and even just stand in the middle of the room letting out a scream that would make Tarzan run and  hide.

That? That’s not really what I want to teach my kids. And I’ve worked on being better, but probably not as hard as I should. I know that it’s not going to just magically happen overnight, and I’m going to slip back into old habits more often than I want to, but…

I can do  this.

I CAN be a great parent. The parent I WANT to be. The one that is supportive, and patient, and understanding. Not a doormat, mind  you, but someone my kids can trust, and rely on to be there, and in a positive, supportive way.

That email? It had some great tips on how to work on that.  I just have to PAUSE…

Pray for your child daily.

Actions speak louder than words.

Use words that lead to positive action, rather than condemnation.

See your child as a work in progress. Show them what to do.

Encourage your child. Catch them doing something right.

….. pause, and be a better parent.