Yesterday was Mother's Day, the end of a long, busy Mother's Day weekend for our family.
Friday was Homeschool Field Day for Jena, then running errands with Jillian.
Saturday we had Jillian's birthday party, then dinner with my mother-in-law to celebrate Mother's Day for her.
Sunday Jena had a soccer game, then lunch with my mom to celebrate Mother's Day for her, then back to MIL's house for dinner to spend a bit of time with Jason's brother before he heads back to California.
There was no Mother's Day for me.
Yes, Jena got me a popsocket for my phone, which she bought when Jason took her shopping for Jillian's birthday present, and they remembered they needed a gift for me... but only after they saw the Mother's Day signs at Target. Even though they both knew the errands I was doing included shopping for presents for my mom & MIL.
It was a busy weekend, a good weekend, but the truth is I was forgotten, lost in the middle.
Kids, kids, parents, kids, parents, kids, parents, parents. No me.
I suppose this is what middle-aged really means. You're in the middle. Doing it all on both ends, but getting lost in the meantime.
As I sit here sorting out my feelings as I write, I realize it's not so much about the holiday itself, it's the getting lost, the invisibility of it all.
It's not that there wasn't time to squeeze in something for me, it's that it wasn't even thought of.
It wasn't that my gift wasn't something I particularly wanted, it's that the idea of a gift was completely forgotten.
I'm a mom. I've been a mom for nine years. Not only am I a mom, it is quite literally my job. I'm a stay-at-home mom. I'm a homeschooling mom. I literally spend 24/7 being nothing more than a mom. A noble job, don't misunderstand me, but it is what I am, what I do. And yet on the one day a year set aside to celebrate that very thing, I am completely forgotten, lost in the middle of generations.
Spending half of my weekend tending to our children's activities, and the other half celebrating our own mothers, putting in the time & effort to try to make everything nice for everyone else, but at the end of it, there's nothing left for me.
It sounds a bit whiny, I suppose. No one's paying attention to me and what-not. But it's what I'm feeling at the moment, take that however you must. It just would be nice to be noticed from time-to-time, to be appreciated. But such is the life of a mom, I suppose. Taking care of everyone else so they can do their things, and the act of taking care becoming the one thing that is yours.
It's so easy to become lost in the middle, lost in motherhood. I've recently tried to stake a claim in some activities in order to retain my own identity, give me something that is mine alone to do, and I'll detail that a bit in my next post.
*************************
What about the other moms reading this? What do you do to make sure you don't get lost in the middle? What steps have you taken to hold on to yourself while you take care of others?
As always, thanks for checking in!
Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts
Monday, May 14, 2018
Thursday, April 12, 2018
Possibilities
I started this post last year in order to document the ways in which it seemed God was speaking to Jason & myself about a potential major change in our family's life.
*******
The last week of July Jason and I were discussing how he would like to leave the fire department, for various reasons, most of which I won't go in to here. One big reason is that he can't dedicate himself to our family business as much as he would like because he's on shift every 3rd day.
We talked about what would need to happen to make it even possible for him to leave the department, and one of the biggest roadblocks is that it provides health insurance for our entire family. No job, no insurance. Our family business just isn't quite there yet to begin providing it thru that venue. We also aren't quite making enough money to be able to afford insuring a family of four on our own. So, health insurance for all four of us. If that were covered, it would make him leaving the department much more realistic and feasible.
********
The next day I received a text from one of my former supervisor's at my old job asking for assistance with something that used to be my responsibility. We texted back and forth for a bit, as I tried to help him via text, hundreds of miles away, with something I haven't handled in three years.
At the end of the conversation he jokingly texted (paraphrased): I'm going to have a position open soon. Just sayin'.
I replied "Everybody has a price. Just sayin'." (winky emoji)
He then sent a few texts about how they would cover relocation, how there's plenty of land available nearby, etc.
I figured he was half serious, half joking and left it like that. But the thought wouldn't leave me, so I mentioned it to Jason that night.
He basically responded something like "that would be okay".
I was surprised. I figured the idea of me going back to work, not being able to homeschool the kids, relocating 300 miles away would freak him out.
But it didn't. It didn't freak me out either. Which is incredibly weird.
I have been trying to move back to Ohio, closer to my family, for years now. We're an hour away from them right now. Now, suddenly, the idea of being 5 hours away doesn't bother me? Why? I have no reason. It makes no sense. I have no idea why I'm okay with it. I can't explain it.
But there it was. So the next morning I texted my former supervisor and told him if he really thought it would be a good fit for me, then to let me know when the job was posted and I'd take a look at it.
He reminded me of how things work there and that the opening was recently delayed and it could be some time before it was actually posted, but he would definitely keep me in the loop.
Basically that translates to say that the job could be coming open in a few weeks, months, year... or never.
But you see what happened there, right? If I went back to work, we'd have additional income & insurance and Jason would be able to leave the fire department. In fact, if we relocated, he'd have to. So talking and praying about it one night, and the very next day this happens. Did you see that?
But there's no telling when the job will actually be posted, if ever. So... what to do? Well...
********
I started looking at housing prices, educational options & expenses, child care expenses, etc. in the area. You see, I realize that if this actually comes to fruition we'll need to make a decision relatively quickly, but this is a major life decision that directly effects our entire family; a decision I can't take lightly or without considering all sides.
But I also started praying for God's direction. Specifically, I asked Him to slam shut any doors he didn't want us to walk through, and to throw wide the doors that He does. Make it obvious. Make His will unmistakable.
********
Fast forward to September. Try as I might to shake the idea and not obsess about it, I can't stop thinking about it. Jason & I found ourselves unexpectedly without kids, so we discussed it in depth for the first time. We had both been praying about it. As we spent the day together, we repeatedly said that we want God to show us, really obviously, what His direction is.
After dinner we started driving around, just driving and talking. Jason needed to use the restroom, so we stopped at a little mom-and-pop bar & restaurant in the middle-of-nowhere Kentucky. Seriously out in the middle of nowhere, driving thru the hills of our beautiful state, miles from civilization. We stopped and went in.
Jason walks into the single-stall bathroom, which was unlocked, and walks in on one of my former executives... peeing.
He literally walked in on the man as he relieved himself. Jason apologized, they both finished their business, we chatted with him for a bit. I had worked closely with this man for the entire 10 years I worked at my former employer. I also hadn't seen him since I left three years ago.
We stayed to listen to the band for a bit, I found Mr. Executive again before we left and said goodbye, then Jason & I got into the car and started laughing at what an incredible "coincidence" that was.
So the day we're asking God for a sign about what He wants us to do, we "randomly" run into one of my former executives at a tiny establishment in rural Kentucky. He doesn't even live in Kentucky anymore. He's still with the company, relocated 300 miles away like so many others. Happened to be in town visiting family.
He happened to be in town this particular weekend, a weekend where we just happened to unexpectedly find ourselves without the girls, he just happened to be at the same tiny bar in the middle of nowhere that we come upon at just the moment when my husband desperately needs a restroom, just happens to be in that restroom, just happens to have forgotten to lock the door. Did I forget anything?
It's a little too "coincidental" for us to believe that it was truly random.
********
Now, jump ahead to October. We're still praying about it, but I'm also trying to balance that with not thinking about it. I know from my experience with the company that the job could be posted any day, might not be posted for a few months, or HR could pull the opening altogether. There's no sense on dwelling. But somehow we need to balance that with being prepared for the day it opens. If it does.
So one night, Jason is on shift, the girls are in bed, I'm doing the dishes. And thinking. It was a Friday night, and I had talked with my dad earlier in the day about Jena's soccer game the next morning. You see, my dad comes to every game. Every one. I don't think he's missed one. I've missed more than he has.
My dad adores his granddaughters. My parents were my full time childcare when Jena was little, and they are especially close. Both my parents have incredibly close relationships with the girls. But especially my dad. Grandpa. He dotes on them. Loves them. Can't get enough of them. I joke that he'd keep them if I'd let him.
And then I thought about it, really thought about it, for the first time since the idea of taking a new job and relocating came up. Leaving my parents. Taking my girls away from my parents. Away from my dad.
And I cried. And cried. Snot-faced messy sobbing cries.
What was I thinking?!? How could I leave my parents? How could I take my girls away from them? It's stupid for me to even think about moving farther away. What was I thinking?!?
But then...
********
The next day I found myself at my parents. I hadn't planned it, but had an appointment about 20 min from their house, so decided to stop by with the girls for a visit before we headed home.
I'm sitting on the couch, Mom & I are watching the girls play, no one's really talking about anything. Dad walks in from the kitchen and sits next to me.
Out of the blue he says "I don't know why you ever left that job. I know you wanted to stay home and homeschool and everything, but that was a really good job. I don't know why you left."
At this point, I'm more confused than anything. At no point during the visit have I mentioned my old job, the company name, working in general. Nothing. I never told my parents about the possibility of going back. This is completely out of the blue.
He continues "Besides, it's only 5 hours away. If we really wanted to, we could still see each other every weekend. I don't know why you left."
Still in disbelief, I said "You know that's a possibility. My old boss contacted me about a job."
He's stunned. Can't believe it. My mom replied with "Don't give her any ideas!"
We laughed, but I really had a chance to think about it on the drive home.
The night before I had been freaking out about taking my girls away from their grandparents, specifically Grandpa. The very next day, on an unplanned visit, my dad unprompted, seemingly out of nowhere, reassures me that we could still each other every weekend if we really wanted, that it's not that far away, that he himself questions why I even left.
I can't ignore the coincidence. And I haven't been bothered, really bothered, by the idea since.
********
Semi-random side note: one of the dealbreakers for me from the moment this came up is that whatever salary they offer me has to be enough for us to reasonably afford a 4+ bedroom house, so that we can have a guest room for our family to stay in comfortably when they come to visit.
Ideally I'd like to have an in-law suite, but a guest bedroom is my minimum. Not having a place for them to stay when visiting is a dealbreaker for me.
********
But alas, nothing happens. Months pass, and there has been no opening. No more discussion (at least that I am aware of) about the job. Eventually Jason & I stop talking about it even being a possibility.
Honestly, thought, it leaves me a little confused. I don't really believe in coincidences, I believe in God. Everything seemed to be pointing us toward this job and relocating our family. I did pray that God would slam shut any doors He didn't want me to walk thru, so maybe that was it. Maybe going back to work & relocating wasn't His plan. But then what is?
Maybe this was just to get me thinking about it. Maybe it was just to open us up to the possibility of me going back to work or of relocating to a different area. Maybe it was just getting us to think & to talk about it as a couple.
Or maybe there's some other plan I'm not seeing yet.
********
And then, this past week...
I run into 3 of my former co-workers in less than a week. All of them have relocated. Two are 300 miles away. One is 900 miles away. All back in town in the same week for various reasons. It is not a holiday week, not a company shutdown week, nothing in common brought them to the area at the same time, as far as I can tell. Yet each of them crossed my path; one at church, one at Once Upon a Child, one at Kroger. I didn't run into co-workers out & about that frequently when they all lived here!
Again, I'm left wondering... what are the chances of that actually happening? What a coincidence! But why?
I mention it to Jason. We agree it seems like too much of a "coincidence" to ignore, but we also agree that we don't know what God is trying to tell us!
We both agree that it still seems that the job & relocation might be a possibility, but we also both agree that it seems more & more that there must be another reason these things keep happening. God is trying to show us or tell us something that we just aren't getting just yet.
So we will continue to pray for His direction and His Divine intervention in our lives, and just trust Him as we see what the future has in store!
********
Sorry there isn't some exciting announcement and conclusion to the end of this. At least not just yet. But I'll be sure to update if anything else happens!
What do you think? Do you think it will come to fruition? Or is God using this to direct us elsewhere?
As always, thanks for checking in!
*******
The last week of July Jason and I were discussing how he would like to leave the fire department, for various reasons, most of which I won't go in to here. One big reason is that he can't dedicate himself to our family business as much as he would like because he's on shift every 3rd day.
We talked about what would need to happen to make it even possible for him to leave the department, and one of the biggest roadblocks is that it provides health insurance for our entire family. No job, no insurance. Our family business just isn't quite there yet to begin providing it thru that venue. We also aren't quite making enough money to be able to afford insuring a family of four on our own. So, health insurance for all four of us. If that were covered, it would make him leaving the department much more realistic and feasible.
********
The next day I received a text from one of my former supervisor's at my old job asking for assistance with something that used to be my responsibility. We texted back and forth for a bit, as I tried to help him via text, hundreds of miles away, with something I haven't handled in three years.
At the end of the conversation he jokingly texted (paraphrased): I'm going to have a position open soon. Just sayin'.
I replied "Everybody has a price. Just sayin'." (winky emoji)
He then sent a few texts about how they would cover relocation, how there's plenty of land available nearby, etc.
I figured he was half serious, half joking and left it like that. But the thought wouldn't leave me, so I mentioned it to Jason that night.
He basically responded something like "that would be okay".
I was surprised. I figured the idea of me going back to work, not being able to homeschool the kids, relocating 300 miles away would freak him out.
But it didn't. It didn't freak me out either. Which is incredibly weird.
I have been trying to move back to Ohio, closer to my family, for years now. We're an hour away from them right now. Now, suddenly, the idea of being 5 hours away doesn't bother me? Why? I have no reason. It makes no sense. I have no idea why I'm okay with it. I can't explain it.
But there it was. So the next morning I texted my former supervisor and told him if he really thought it would be a good fit for me, then to let me know when the job was posted and I'd take a look at it.
He reminded me of how things work there and that the opening was recently delayed and it could be some time before it was actually posted, but he would definitely keep me in the loop.
Basically that translates to say that the job could be coming open in a few weeks, months, year... or never.
But you see what happened there, right? If I went back to work, we'd have additional income & insurance and Jason would be able to leave the fire department. In fact, if we relocated, he'd have to. So talking and praying about it one night, and the very next day this happens. Did you see that?
But there's no telling when the job will actually be posted, if ever. So... what to do? Well...
********
I started looking at housing prices, educational options & expenses, child care expenses, etc. in the area. You see, I realize that if this actually comes to fruition we'll need to make a decision relatively quickly, but this is a major life decision that directly effects our entire family; a decision I can't take lightly or without considering all sides.
But I also started praying for God's direction. Specifically, I asked Him to slam shut any doors he didn't want us to walk through, and to throw wide the doors that He does. Make it obvious. Make His will unmistakable.
********
Fast forward to September. Try as I might to shake the idea and not obsess about it, I can't stop thinking about it. Jason & I found ourselves unexpectedly without kids, so we discussed it in depth for the first time. We had both been praying about it. As we spent the day together, we repeatedly said that we want God to show us, really obviously, what His direction is.
After dinner we started driving around, just driving and talking. Jason needed to use the restroom, so we stopped at a little mom-and-pop bar & restaurant in the middle-of-nowhere Kentucky. Seriously out in the middle of nowhere, driving thru the hills of our beautiful state, miles from civilization. We stopped and went in.
Jason walks into the single-stall bathroom, which was unlocked, and walks in on one of my former executives... peeing.
He literally walked in on the man as he relieved himself. Jason apologized, they both finished their business, we chatted with him for a bit. I had worked closely with this man for the entire 10 years I worked at my former employer. I also hadn't seen him since I left three years ago.
We stayed to listen to the band for a bit, I found Mr. Executive again before we left and said goodbye, then Jason & I got into the car and started laughing at what an incredible "coincidence" that was.
So the day we're asking God for a sign about what He wants us to do, we "randomly" run into one of my former executives at a tiny establishment in rural Kentucky. He doesn't even live in Kentucky anymore. He's still with the company, relocated 300 miles away like so many others. Happened to be in town visiting family.
He happened to be in town this particular weekend, a weekend where we just happened to unexpectedly find ourselves without the girls, he just happened to be at the same tiny bar in the middle of nowhere that we come upon at just the moment when my husband desperately needs a restroom, just happens to be in that restroom, just happens to have forgotten to lock the door. Did I forget anything?
It's a little too "coincidental" for us to believe that it was truly random.
********
Now, jump ahead to October. We're still praying about it, but I'm also trying to balance that with not thinking about it. I know from my experience with the company that the job could be posted any day, might not be posted for a few months, or HR could pull the opening altogether. There's no sense on dwelling. But somehow we need to balance that with being prepared for the day it opens. If it does.
So one night, Jason is on shift, the girls are in bed, I'm doing the dishes. And thinking. It was a Friday night, and I had talked with my dad earlier in the day about Jena's soccer game the next morning. You see, my dad comes to every game. Every one. I don't think he's missed one. I've missed more than he has.
My dad adores his granddaughters. My parents were my full time childcare when Jena was little, and they are especially close. Both my parents have incredibly close relationships with the girls. But especially my dad. Grandpa. He dotes on them. Loves them. Can't get enough of them. I joke that he'd keep them if I'd let him.
And then I thought about it, really thought about it, for the first time since the idea of taking a new job and relocating came up. Leaving my parents. Taking my girls away from my parents. Away from my dad.
And I cried. And cried. Snot-faced messy sobbing cries.
What was I thinking?!? How could I leave my parents? How could I take my girls away from them? It's stupid for me to even think about moving farther away. What was I thinking?!?
But then...
********
The next day I found myself at my parents. I hadn't planned it, but had an appointment about 20 min from their house, so decided to stop by with the girls for a visit before we headed home.
I'm sitting on the couch, Mom & I are watching the girls play, no one's really talking about anything. Dad walks in from the kitchen and sits next to me.
Out of the blue he says "I don't know why you ever left that job. I know you wanted to stay home and homeschool and everything, but that was a really good job. I don't know why you left."
At this point, I'm more confused than anything. At no point during the visit have I mentioned my old job, the company name, working in general. Nothing. I never told my parents about the possibility of going back. This is completely out of the blue.
He continues "Besides, it's only 5 hours away. If we really wanted to, we could still see each other every weekend. I don't know why you left."
Still in disbelief, I said "You know that's a possibility. My old boss contacted me about a job."
He's stunned. Can't believe it. My mom replied with "Don't give her any ideas!"
We laughed, but I really had a chance to think about it on the drive home.
The night before I had been freaking out about taking my girls away from their grandparents, specifically Grandpa. The very next day, on an unplanned visit, my dad unprompted, seemingly out of nowhere, reassures me that we could still each other every weekend if we really wanted, that it's not that far away, that he himself questions why I even left.
I can't ignore the coincidence. And I haven't been bothered, really bothered, by the idea since.
********
Semi-random side note: one of the dealbreakers for me from the moment this came up is that whatever salary they offer me has to be enough for us to reasonably afford a 4+ bedroom house, so that we can have a guest room for our family to stay in comfortably when they come to visit.
Ideally I'd like to have an in-law suite, but a guest bedroom is my minimum. Not having a place for them to stay when visiting is a dealbreaker for me.
********
But alas, nothing happens. Months pass, and there has been no opening. No more discussion (at least that I am aware of) about the job. Eventually Jason & I stop talking about it even being a possibility.
Honestly, thought, it leaves me a little confused. I don't really believe in coincidences, I believe in God. Everything seemed to be pointing us toward this job and relocating our family. I did pray that God would slam shut any doors He didn't want me to walk thru, so maybe that was it. Maybe going back to work & relocating wasn't His plan. But then what is?
Maybe this was just to get me thinking about it. Maybe it was just to open us up to the possibility of me going back to work or of relocating to a different area. Maybe it was just getting us to think & to talk about it as a couple.
Or maybe there's some other plan I'm not seeing yet.
********
And then, this past week...
I run into 3 of my former co-workers in less than a week. All of them have relocated. Two are 300 miles away. One is 900 miles away. All back in town in the same week for various reasons. It is not a holiday week, not a company shutdown week, nothing in common brought them to the area at the same time, as far as I can tell. Yet each of them crossed my path; one at church, one at Once Upon a Child, one at Kroger. I didn't run into co-workers out & about that frequently when they all lived here!
Again, I'm left wondering... what are the chances of that actually happening? What a coincidence! But why?
I mention it to Jason. We agree it seems like too much of a "coincidence" to ignore, but we also agree that we don't know what God is trying to tell us!
We both agree that it still seems that the job & relocation might be a possibility, but we also both agree that it seems more & more that there must be another reason these things keep happening. God is trying to show us or tell us something that we just aren't getting just yet.
So we will continue to pray for His direction and His Divine intervention in our lives, and just trust Him as we see what the future has in store!
********
Sorry there isn't some exciting announcement and conclusion to the end of this. At least not just yet. But I'll be sure to update if anything else happens!
What do you think? Do you think it will come to fruition? Or is God using this to direct us elsewhere?
As always, thanks for checking in!
Thursday, April 5, 2018
How My 9 Year Old Found Out about the Easter Bunny (and Santa Claus)
I have worked very hard to keep the magic alive for my kids for the past nine years. Very hard. This past year I thought Jena might be starting to figure out Santa, but alas, ends up I was wrong. How did I find out? Because when the truth was discovered she was absolutely devastated. So how did that happen? I'm glad you asked.
The day before Easter Jena blurted out "I saw the text you sent Daddy last night!"
Uh oh.
The night before Jason had been on shift. I had not had time alone to shop for the girls' Easter baskets, so I sent him a text around 11pm asking him to stop at the store on his way home to pick up stuff for the Easter bunny to bring.
And she saw it.
Here's where the added layer of parenting gets added.
She saw it because she was disobeying. She has been instructed numerous times to not read any messages on any adult's device. Jena's iPad had died, so in the morning I had given her Jason's old iPad to play games on. At some point she apparently opened the messages and read (at least) that one.
She flat out asked me, so when I had the chance I took her into her room, just the two of us, to talk it out. She was absolutely crushed. Then she asked if that meant Santa wasn't real either. Devastated.
Why the devastation? In her words, because it means "magic isn't real".
I tried telling her it was a different kind of magic, it was Mommy Magic, but she insisted, correctly, that it's not the same.
I gave her the option in the future of either:
a) pretending none of this ever happened, and both of us going thru the motions as if it were all real, just like before, or
b) joining in on the magic with me and helping to make things special for her little sister
I told her she could decide at any time, and she didn't even have to tell me. I would just know by her actions what she wanted to do.
I also told her to be sure not to talk about it with her friends unless she knew for sure that they already knew. I explained that lots of parents work really hard to keep life magical for their kids, and if she told them they would feel just as bad as she did now. I also told her she would be in big trouble if she ever told her little sister.
It was a really difficult afternoon, lots of crying over her new realization, but by that evening she was slipping me pieces of candy to put in her basket.
Of course we still had to address the disobedience that got her there in the first place, but she wasn't having it. She's been in a rather rebellious & disrespectful phase lately, and insisted on telling me that it was all my fault and I ruined her Easter because I should never have sent the message in the first place.
Because... of course. And because... she's nine.
But that is another topic for another time.
What about your kids? Have they figured it out yet? How did they find out?
As always, thanks for checking in!
 |
| Jena hunting Easter eggs at my parents' house, 2017 |
The day before Easter Jena blurted out "I saw the text you sent Daddy last night!"
Uh oh.
The night before Jason had been on shift. I had not had time alone to shop for the girls' Easter baskets, so I sent him a text around 11pm asking him to stop at the store on his way home to pick up stuff for the Easter bunny to bring.
And she saw it.
Here's where the added layer of parenting gets added.
She saw it because she was disobeying. She has been instructed numerous times to not read any messages on any adult's device. Jena's iPad had died, so in the morning I had given her Jason's old iPad to play games on. At some point she apparently opened the messages and read (at least) that one.
She flat out asked me, so when I had the chance I took her into her room, just the two of us, to talk it out. She was absolutely crushed. Then she asked if that meant Santa wasn't real either. Devastated.
Why the devastation? In her words, because it means "magic isn't real".
I tried telling her it was a different kind of magic, it was Mommy Magic, but she insisted, correctly, that it's not the same.
I gave her the option in the future of either:
a) pretending none of this ever happened, and both of us going thru the motions as if it were all real, just like before, or
b) joining in on the magic with me and helping to make things special for her little sister
I told her she could decide at any time, and she didn't even have to tell me. I would just know by her actions what she wanted to do.
I also told her to be sure not to talk about it with her friends unless she knew for sure that they already knew. I explained that lots of parents work really hard to keep life magical for their kids, and if she told them they would feel just as bad as she did now. I also told her she would be in big trouble if she ever told her little sister.
It was a really difficult afternoon, lots of crying over her new realization, but by that evening she was slipping me pieces of candy to put in her basket.
Of course we still had to address the disobedience that got her there in the first place, but she wasn't having it. She's been in a rather rebellious & disrespectful phase lately, and insisted on telling me that it was all my fault and I ruined her Easter because I should never have sent the message in the first place.
Because... of course. And because... she's nine.
But that is another topic for another time.
What about your kids? Have they figured it out yet? How did they find out?
As always, thanks for checking in!
Wednesday, February 28, 2018
It's a Heart Issue
So I recently came to the realization that my oldest has a rebellious spirit. And figuring out how to parent that issue has been a struggle.
You see, it's not a very overt type of rebellion, which is why it snuck under our radar for so long. Because the truth is this has been going on and growing for a couple of years.
Oh, and she's nine. Nine. I really didn't think we'd have to deal with these issues for a few more years at least. But nope, here we are.
So how is it manifesting that it managed to go unnoticed for so long? Well, it basically is manifesting as her not wanting to do anything that I want her to do, participate in any activities that I suggest, etc. No matter how much she enjoys them, she will beg to quit, tell me how "stupid" it is, etc. if it's something I suggested or something she knows I like.
We only figured it out because of her reaction to starting beginning band. She knows how strongly I feel that band is a worthwhile activity. I have long said that I want my children to at least try it. So now the time comes. She dug in her heels hard. After much discussion I finally got out of her why she didn't want to do band. Her response? Twofold.
"I don't want anyone telling me what to do, not even the band director."
"I don't want to be like you."
Ouch.
It was while discussing the issue with Jason and some mom-friends that I had an a-ha moment and realized that it really had nothing to do with band, because this is actually the next step in a pattern of behavior.
Reading. Jena used to love to read. As in would literally read the dictionary. Around age 6 she very suddenly started hating to read. I was so confused and I never was able to figure out why the sudden change. But guess who loves to read, has told her kids how she used to read a ton when she was a kid, and strongly encouraged Jena to read. That's right, all me.
Girl Scouts. I did Girl Scouts when I was younger and really enjoyed it and got a lot out of it, so obviously I wanted my girls to try it to. Jena started at age 6. I stayed for meetings when I was able, as did most of the moms. I saw her having a blast, having so much fun, learning neat things, making friends. I know she enjoyed it. But guess what? Every chance she got she asked when she could quit. I thought maybe it was just the troop, so we switched to a different leader. Same reaction. I saw her having a great time week after week, but almost every week she would tell me how much she hated it and ask when she could quit.
Homeschool Community Groups. We have belonged to three different homeschool community groups in the four years that we've been homeschooling. With all three she would have a blast, would learn a lot, made lots of friends, but... you guessed it, she'd declare that it was "stupid", ask if we have to keep going, etc. Oh yeah, and guess whose idea it was. You guessed it. Mine.
And now Band. She chose snare drum as her instrument. She says she wants to learn how to play. After her first practice she talked non-stop about what she learned and the new friends she made. If you ask her she will tell you she likes playing the drums. But she will also tell you flat out that she doesn't want anyone telling her what to do. And of course, it was my idea.
So now, for contrast, let's look at Soccer. Her idea. I honestly didn't think she would like it, was totally surprised that she chose it. But she did, and it was 100% her idea. And guess what? She loves it. She recently asked me if there was any way she could do soccer five days a week instead of three.
Do you see the pattern? With the first three activities, no matter how I worded it, how much I tried to pull it out of her, she could never tell me why she didn't like the activity. She could never explain why she didn't like something that she actually seemed to enjoy so much.
So when Jason & I were discussing the band issue, we both kinda realized that all of these things have nothing to do with the activities themselves, but they all actually have to do with her having a heart of rebellion. It's a heart issue.
It comes out in little ways as well. Fighting against doing chores that she knows she has to do. Refusing to follow directions when we are schooling and making up her own way to do things instead. Being disrespectful to me in words & actions. The list goes on & on.
So now the issue is how to parent her thru this. How to address the heart issue, lead her as her mother, and stop this rebellion before it goes from being very subtle to very overt
Suggestions welcome! LOL.
What parenting issue are you dealing with at the moment?
You see, it's not a very overt type of rebellion, which is why it snuck under our radar for so long. Because the truth is this has been going on and growing for a couple of years.
Oh, and she's nine. Nine. I really didn't think we'd have to deal with these issues for a few more years at least. But nope, here we are.
So how is it manifesting that it managed to go unnoticed for so long? Well, it basically is manifesting as her not wanting to do anything that I want her to do, participate in any activities that I suggest, etc. No matter how much she enjoys them, she will beg to quit, tell me how "stupid" it is, etc. if it's something I suggested or something she knows I like.
We only figured it out because of her reaction to starting beginning band. She knows how strongly I feel that band is a worthwhile activity. I have long said that I want my children to at least try it. So now the time comes. She dug in her heels hard. After much discussion I finally got out of her why she didn't want to do band. Her response? Twofold.
"I don't want anyone telling me what to do, not even the band director."
"I don't want to be like you."
Ouch.
It was while discussing the issue with Jason and some mom-friends that I had an a-ha moment and realized that it really had nothing to do with band, because this is actually the next step in a pattern of behavior.
Reading. Jena used to love to read. As in would literally read the dictionary. Around age 6 she very suddenly started hating to read. I was so confused and I never was able to figure out why the sudden change. But guess who loves to read, has told her kids how she used to read a ton when she was a kid, and strongly encouraged Jena to read. That's right, all me.
Girl Scouts. I did Girl Scouts when I was younger and really enjoyed it and got a lot out of it, so obviously I wanted my girls to try it to. Jena started at age 6. I stayed for meetings when I was able, as did most of the moms. I saw her having a blast, having so much fun, learning neat things, making friends. I know she enjoyed it. But guess what? Every chance she got she asked when she could quit. I thought maybe it was just the troop, so we switched to a different leader. Same reaction. I saw her having a great time week after week, but almost every week she would tell me how much she hated it and ask when she could quit.
Homeschool Community Groups. We have belonged to three different homeschool community groups in the four years that we've been homeschooling. With all three she would have a blast, would learn a lot, made lots of friends, but... you guessed it, she'd declare that it was "stupid", ask if we have to keep going, etc. Oh yeah, and guess whose idea it was. You guessed it. Mine.
And now Band. She chose snare drum as her instrument. She says she wants to learn how to play. After her first practice she talked non-stop about what she learned and the new friends she made. If you ask her she will tell you she likes playing the drums. But she will also tell you flat out that she doesn't want anyone telling her what to do. And of course, it was my idea.
So now, for contrast, let's look at Soccer. Her idea. I honestly didn't think she would like it, was totally surprised that she chose it. But she did, and it was 100% her idea. And guess what? She loves it. She recently asked me if there was any way she could do soccer five days a week instead of three.
Do you see the pattern? With the first three activities, no matter how I worded it, how much I tried to pull it out of her, she could never tell me why she didn't like the activity. She could never explain why she didn't like something that she actually seemed to enjoy so much.
So when Jason & I were discussing the band issue, we both kinda realized that all of these things have nothing to do with the activities themselves, but they all actually have to do with her having a heart of rebellion. It's a heart issue.
It comes out in little ways as well. Fighting against doing chores that she knows she has to do. Refusing to follow directions when we are schooling and making up her own way to do things instead. Being disrespectful to me in words & actions. The list goes on & on.
So now the issue is how to parent her thru this. How to address the heart issue, lead her as her mother, and stop this rebellion before it goes from being very subtle to very overt
Suggestions welcome! LOL.
What parenting issue are you dealing with at the moment?
Saturday, August 5, 2017
I am so ready for the workday to be over
It's 5:15pm and I am so ready for the workday to be over. It's been one of those days. Stress at every turn, difficult coworkers, menial work that feels overwhelming because of the stresses of the workplace. I'm tired, frustrated, and about to go over the edge. But at least it's 5:15pm.
I am unbelievably ready to wrap up what I'm working on, walk out the door, get in the car and drive. Sure, wherever I go will have its own responsibilities with different people to deal with, but with any luck maybe those people will be in a good mood and tonight will end on a relaxing note.
But I can't walk out the door. Because I don't work outside the home anymore. I stay home and homeschool our children. So at 5:15pm, even though I've already been fully on the job for 10 hours, I have at least four more to go, and that's if the kids actually go to bed on time and stay there. More often than not with my three year old lately I'll be looking at another six hours, minimum.
No drive by myself, listening to music to help me unwind. No change of scenery. No heading out to see if the next group of people in my life will be in a better mood. Nope. This is it.
It's been a rough day. Meltdowns, tantrums, tears, yelling, frustration, blatant disobedience and disrespect. All day.
I'm not saying there weren't good moments, because there were. But interspersed throughout the day, all day, many, many times were these moments, these difficult moments. These stressful, frustrating moments. I have yelled more times than I care to admit. It was a hard day.
But I can't pack up my desk and leave, and hope things will be better at home. This is my home, and my workplace. So I have a choice to make.
I can choose to focus on the negative, be a pessimist, and let it bring me down, which will continue to spiral my daughters' adverse behavior, or I can choose to try to see the positive in the day, be an optimist, force a smile on my face, and try to pick my girls up and make their day better. I'm the leader here. It's up to me to at least try to turn things around.
So I gather the supplies for a craft, get everything set up, tell the girls we'll do a craft. They're excited. They love crafts. This will be fun.
After reminding Jena that she needs to follow instructions or the craft won't turn out right, she yells at me that I'm ruining her art by making her follow directions and breaks down in tears because I "ruined" her project.
We take a break, but eventually finish. But no ones very excited about the craft anymore. And I'm starting to wonder why I bother.
Now it's time for dinner. I decide to make a new recipe, but one that is simple and kinda fun and I'm absolutely sure both girls will like. Jena refuses to admit that it's good, instead telling me everything that's wrong with it. But she takes a second helping. And a third.
Sometimes you can't help another person's bad mood. You can try. And especially for the ones you love, and the ones you're living with, you should. But ultimately it is all up to them. They have to decide to look at the bright side for themselves.
Dinner is over. The run baths for each girl in turn. They get into their pajamas, brush their teeth, get into bed.
It is now 11:45pm. Jillian is still awake. She just called me into her room a few minutes ago. The fourth time she's been out of bed, that I know of.
When you're a mom there is no end to your work day. Even when the kids aren't directly demanding my attention, I'm tending to housework, or school planning, or cooking, or pet care, or, or, or... The list goes on and on. And it doesn't matter if you work outside the home or stay home. The only difference is when you work outside the home you get a change of scenery, a break from one set of responsibilities, even if it is quickly replaced with another set.
I've done both. I was a mom who worked outside the home for six years, and now I've been a stay at home / homschooling mom for three years. They are equally demanding, equally stressful, just in different ways. I'm not going to lie, there are days when I think back longingly on my days as a working mom. Days when I have to remind myself how many years I spent wanting this, praying for the opportunity to stay home with my family. Days when I have to remind myself of the stresses of working outside the home. Today was definitely one of those days.
The truth is I miss working outside the home more than I ever thought I would. And while I was never one of those people who thought being a SAHM was an easy job, I definitely underestimated how difficult it can be at times. And then I decided to add homeschooling to the mix, LOL. I had no idea what I was in for! Despite all that, I remain convinced that for our family, at this moment in time, me staying home and homeschooling our children is the absolute best choice for us. I have to remind myself of that at times like today, but it is the truth.
So here's to all you working moms, wherever you call your "office". Keep your focus on what's best for your family, on why you do what you do, and keep on pushing through those hard days. There's a good day right around the corner. Promise.
As always, thanks for checking in.
I am unbelievably ready to wrap up what I'm working on, walk out the door, get in the car and drive. Sure, wherever I go will have its own responsibilities with different people to deal with, but with any luck maybe those people will be in a good mood and tonight will end on a relaxing note.
But I can't walk out the door. Because I don't work outside the home anymore. I stay home and homeschool our children. So at 5:15pm, even though I've already been fully on the job for 10 hours, I have at least four more to go, and that's if the kids actually go to bed on time and stay there. More often than not with my three year old lately I'll be looking at another six hours, minimum.
No drive by myself, listening to music to help me unwind. No change of scenery. No heading out to see if the next group of people in my life will be in a better mood. Nope. This is it.
It's been a rough day. Meltdowns, tantrums, tears, yelling, frustration, blatant disobedience and disrespect. All day.
I'm not saying there weren't good moments, because there were. But interspersed throughout the day, all day, many, many times were these moments, these difficult moments. These stressful, frustrating moments. I have yelled more times than I care to admit. It was a hard day.
But I can't pack up my desk and leave, and hope things will be better at home. This is my home, and my workplace. So I have a choice to make.
I can choose to focus on the negative, be a pessimist, and let it bring me down, which will continue to spiral my daughters' adverse behavior, or I can choose to try to see the positive in the day, be an optimist, force a smile on my face, and try to pick my girls up and make their day better. I'm the leader here. It's up to me to at least try to turn things around.
So I gather the supplies for a craft, get everything set up, tell the girls we'll do a craft. They're excited. They love crafts. This will be fun.
After reminding Jena that she needs to follow instructions or the craft won't turn out right, she yells at me that I'm ruining her art by making her follow directions and breaks down in tears because I "ruined" her project.
We take a break, but eventually finish. But no ones very excited about the craft anymore. And I'm starting to wonder why I bother.
Now it's time for dinner. I decide to make a new recipe, but one that is simple and kinda fun and I'm absolutely sure both girls will like. Jena refuses to admit that it's good, instead telling me everything that's wrong with it. But she takes a second helping. And a third.
Sometimes you can't help another person's bad mood. You can try. And especially for the ones you love, and the ones you're living with, you should. But ultimately it is all up to them. They have to decide to look at the bright side for themselves.
Dinner is over. The run baths for each girl in turn. They get into their pajamas, brush their teeth, get into bed.
It is now 11:45pm. Jillian is still awake. She just called me into her room a few minutes ago. The fourth time she's been out of bed, that I know of.
When you're a mom there is no end to your work day. Even when the kids aren't directly demanding my attention, I'm tending to housework, or school planning, or cooking, or pet care, or, or, or... The list goes on and on. And it doesn't matter if you work outside the home or stay home. The only difference is when you work outside the home you get a change of scenery, a break from one set of responsibilities, even if it is quickly replaced with another set.
I've done both. I was a mom who worked outside the home for six years, and now I've been a stay at home / homschooling mom for three years. They are equally demanding, equally stressful, just in different ways. I'm not going to lie, there are days when I think back longingly on my days as a working mom. Days when I have to remind myself how many years I spent wanting this, praying for the opportunity to stay home with my family. Days when I have to remind myself of the stresses of working outside the home. Today was definitely one of those days.
The truth is I miss working outside the home more than I ever thought I would. And while I was never one of those people who thought being a SAHM was an easy job, I definitely underestimated how difficult it can be at times. And then I decided to add homeschooling to the mix, LOL. I had no idea what I was in for! Despite all that, I remain convinced that for our family, at this moment in time, me staying home and homeschooling our children is the absolute best choice for us. I have to remind myself of that at times like today, but it is the truth.
So here's to all you working moms, wherever you call your "office". Keep your focus on what's best for your family, on why you do what you do, and keep on pushing through those hard days. There's a good day right around the corner. Promise.
As always, thanks for checking in.
Tuesday, June 6, 2017
Parenting Hack: Rest Time / Quiet Play
Back when Jena was a toddler, her body tried to drop a nap before she really seemed to be ready. And before I was ready, if I'm being honest. Trying to think of a way to encourage her to rest, I initiated what I call "Rest Time / Quiet Play". Of course back then I was working full-time outside of the home, so it was only used on weekends, but it worked like a dream. About half the time Jena would end up falling asleep.
The idea is that the child has to go to their room, door shut, for a specified amount of time. They can rest, nap, or play, but everything must be quiet.
It not only encourages rest time, but for the time that they're not quite ready to nap, it encourages independent play.
Well, recently Jillian has decided to drop her afternoon nap... and has become a terror. The lack of sleep makes her normally spirited self even more of a handful. Lots of tantrums, she started hitting & biting again, defiance, disobedience... she was out of control. Enter Rest Time / Quiet Play.
I instituted it this past week at our house, for both kids. Sure, Jena doesn't really need it anymore, being 8 years old, but she could use some encouragement to play independently. And quite frankly, I could use some non-kid time.
So far, it has been amazing. The first day it took me about 30 minutes to convince Jillian that she really did have to stay in her room. But she eventually got it.
We school in the morning, then have lunch, then from 1pm-3pm the girls have Rest Time / Quiet Play. Jillian has fallen asleep every day, which as made bedtime a little bit of a struggle, but her mental state and behavior is so much improved it's well worth it for me. Even Jena has enjoyed it, and has started asking for it!
What I didn't plan on, but am not really surprised by, is now much more productive I've been able to be around the house. Those two hours without distraction have allowed me to get more chores & cleaning done this week than I've gotten done in... forever it seems.
An additional bonus? Jena got so bored, she decided to clean her room!
The idea is that the child has to go to their room, door shut, for a specified amount of time. They can rest, nap, or play, but everything must be quiet.
It not only encourages rest time, but for the time that they're not quite ready to nap, it encourages independent play.
Well, recently Jillian has decided to drop her afternoon nap... and has become a terror. The lack of sleep makes her normally spirited self even more of a handful. Lots of tantrums, she started hitting & biting again, defiance, disobedience... she was out of control. Enter Rest Time / Quiet Play.
I instituted it this past week at our house, for both kids. Sure, Jena doesn't really need it anymore, being 8 years old, but she could use some encouragement to play independently. And quite frankly, I could use some non-kid time.
So far, it has been amazing. The first day it took me about 30 minutes to convince Jillian that she really did have to stay in her room. But she eventually got it.
We school in the morning, then have lunch, then from 1pm-3pm the girls have Rest Time / Quiet Play. Jillian has fallen asleep every day, which as made bedtime a little bit of a struggle, but her mental state and behavior is so much improved it's well worth it for me. Even Jena has enjoyed it, and has started asking for it!
What I didn't plan on, but am not really surprised by, is now much more productive I've been able to be around the house. Those two hours without distraction have allowed me to get more chores & cleaning done this week than I've gotten done in... forever it seems.
An additional bonus? Jena got so bored, she decided to clean her room!
It hasn't been this clean in a long time! And by having Rest Time / Quiet Play every day she has kept it clean, while still having plenty of time for watching shows, playing games, reading, making crafts, or whatever she wants!
Tuesday, May 31, 2016
This Isn't Utopia
Recently there was an incident at a zoo fairly close to my home, and it has drawn quite the reaction online.
Short version: a 4 year old boy somehow managed to get away from his mother, thru a railing, wire fencing, dense vegetation, scale a wall, and fall into a moat inside the gorilla enclosure. One of the male gorillas ignored the recall keepers issued from behind the scenes (which successfully called back two female gorillas), and went to the boy. Witnesses & keepers agree that he did not appear to be in attack mode, but became increasingly agitated as both the boy and the crowd screamed, causing his actions to become more violent. Fearing for the life of the boy, the zoo's dangerous animal response team made the decision to fatally shoot the gorilla.
Since then there has been widespread outrage online, directed at... pretty much everybody, depending on who you're reading.
The mom is bearing the brunt of it, being blamed for not keeping a good enough eye on her kid. The zoo comes in second, with some people insisting that killing the gorilla was not necessary. Zoos as a whole are being blamed for causing the gorilla's death, because if he wasn't in captivity to begin with, none of this would have happened. And the third group I've seen criticized is Christians who blame the mother, or who mourn the gorilla, or who go to zoos at all, with other Christians shouting cries of "judge not lest ye be judged", human life means more than animal life, and the like.
Quite frankly, it's a mess.
And yet, yes, I'm adding my voice to the mix.
I'm gonna start by saying can we all stop being so harsh with each other? Even if you disagree, there's no reason to name-call, point fingers, and generally be disrespectful toward one another.
Now, let's break this down.
The Mother:
This poor woman. She has drawn the ire of the interwebs, that's for sure. I'm going to admit, I still have a hard time seeing how a properly supervised child could have made it away from his mom, under a railing, thru wire fencing, thru dense vegetation, and scaled a small wall without her noticing until he was already in the moat. In my mind, that could not possibly have happened that quickly. But, I also admit that I was not there. So far I have only read one eye-witness account, and it seems to indicate it really did happen that quickly and the mom was absolutely unable to stop it. Since I was not there, I will defer to the opinion of someone who was, and will say this appears to be a horrible accident.
I do think that even without assigning blame, we can still learn from the incident for our own parenting efforts. Perhaps we reconsider visiting public areas when we know they are likely to be extra-crowded, as it was this holiday weekend. Larger crowds make it more difficult to keep an eye on small children. Perhaps we simply take steps to be more attentive than perhaps we have been in the past. Certainly there are several ways to make this a learning point for our own children. We can talk to them about things like: why it's important to follow instructions, why we stay near parents in crowded places, respecting the homes & habitats of animals, etc. There are any number of ways to turn this into a learning point for ourselves and our children, and I think we should.
The Zoo:
I will begin by stating that I 100% stand by the zoo's decision to use lethal measures to rescue the child. Human life trumps animal life every time. I have read & heard statements from several different experts in this area and have yet to hear one actual expert say the zoo had another reasonable option. Tranquilizers not only take several minutes (estimates range from 10-25 minutes in this situation), but the instant the gorilla felt the dart hit likely would have agitated him further. I've seen numerous people on social media argue that lethal force wasn't necessary, but not only do they not have the credentials to be taken seriously on the matter, I have not heard one offer another, more reasonable option. So I'll stand by the actual experts.
The zoo's director has indicated that the zoo will review everything from the response of the multiple areas of staff involved in the incident, to the security at the exhibit, as they should any time there is an incident such as this. I am curious if any changes will be made to the exhibit. It has been secure for 38 years prior to this incident, but if such a young child really did make it thru the barrier in such a short amount of time, that may indicate a need for improvements. I trust that they will review all the information available and react accordingly.
Zoological Institutions:
At the interest of full disclosure, I support zoos. Are there a few places that call themselves "zoos" that are run in less than adequate ways? Yes, I can't deny it. But by and large, in this country anyway, our major zoos work very hard to preserve & protect a multitude of species, to repopulate endangered species in their natural habitat, to rehabilitate endangered animals with the hopes of returning them to the wild, and to provide the animals in their charge the best care possible.
Let's start with blaming zoos as a whole for this gorilla's death because if he weren't captive this never would have happened. Technically true. But let's dig a little deeper.
The Western Lowland Gorilla is listed as "critically endangered". In short, this means that without intervention they are at high risk of extinction in the wild. Breeding this species in captivity is an important part of ensuring the future of the species as a whole, and the zoo in question has been a leader in this endeavour. When looking at the big picture, the answer isn't quite as easy as "don't put gorillas in captivity". The truth is without captive populations that can ensure the survival of the species it wouldn't be hard to envision the complete obliteration of this beautiful creature from our planet, at the hand of poachers, habitat loss, and the like. Are zoos ideal? No. But this isn't Utopia.
Christian Finger Pointing:
Ugh. Where to begin?
Let's start with those crying out to stop judging the mother with quotes of "judge not lest ye be judged". I hear ya. That verse has been beat to death about everything. Don't judge anybody for anything. It's also not quite that simple.
Just a few verses later we are presented with comparisons regarding the width of the gate to Heaven, false prophets vs real prophets, evaluating people by their fruits. All of which require a type of judgement or discernment. In other areas of the Bible we are instructed to "judge righteously". I think the key is in how we do it, and how we present it.
If we hold ourselves in higher esteem than another, as though we could never be at such fault, if we resort to disrespectful and unkind behaviour, surely this is not appropriate. But are we to review the actions of those around us, discern if they are best behaviors, apply to our lives accordingly? I think the answer is 'yes'.
Next, does human life have more value than animal life? Absolutely. But many of those pushing this point are upset that people are mourning the death of the gorilla, that there was a vigil at the zoo for the deceased animal, that anyone, especially fellow Christians, seem to care for animals at all. I'm not gonna lie, I don't understand this.
First of all, the little boy did not die. He has been released from the hospital with a minor concussion and a few scrapes. He is, for all purposes, fine. Therefore, there is no comparison. The little boy did not lose his life.
Had he died, I feel confident that the outpouring of emotion for his life would far outweigh any for the gorilla. Maybe some disagree, but I do think our society as a whole, Christian or not, does still value human life over animal life. Because the boy (thankfully!) did not die in the incident, but the gorilla did, this comparison, in my opinion, makes no sense.
So what about mourning the loss of an animal, caring for his life, being upset that he died? I believe all of those are not only understandable, but I'm going to go as far to say that they are understandable even within a Christian worldview.
From the beginning, God set man to have dominion over the animal kingdom. They are for us to eat, to clothe us, and most important in this case, for us to take care of them. Caring for the animal kingdom presents itself in different ways to different people, but I believe there is no shame in having an emotional response to the death of an animal. Furthermore, since this gorilla was an important link in the breeding population for this species, then it would be reasonable to mourn his loss even further as we look to the future of the species as a whole.
*******************************************
As we look at this unfortunate incident, I think there is plenty of room for each of us to evaluate what happened, see where we can learn something, and decide if & how to apply it to our lives. We don't all have to agree with one another, but we can try to do so in a respectful manner, can't we?
As always, thanks for checking in.
Short version: a 4 year old boy somehow managed to get away from his mother, thru a railing, wire fencing, dense vegetation, scale a wall, and fall into a moat inside the gorilla enclosure. One of the male gorillas ignored the recall keepers issued from behind the scenes (which successfully called back two female gorillas), and went to the boy. Witnesses & keepers agree that he did not appear to be in attack mode, but became increasingly agitated as both the boy and the crowd screamed, causing his actions to become more violent. Fearing for the life of the boy, the zoo's dangerous animal response team made the decision to fatally shoot the gorilla.
Since then there has been widespread outrage online, directed at... pretty much everybody, depending on who you're reading.
The mom is bearing the brunt of it, being blamed for not keeping a good enough eye on her kid. The zoo comes in second, with some people insisting that killing the gorilla was not necessary. Zoos as a whole are being blamed for causing the gorilla's death, because if he wasn't in captivity to begin with, none of this would have happened. And the third group I've seen criticized is Christians who blame the mother, or who mourn the gorilla, or who go to zoos at all, with other Christians shouting cries of "judge not lest ye be judged", human life means more than animal life, and the like.
Quite frankly, it's a mess.
And yet, yes, I'm adding my voice to the mix.
I'm gonna start by saying can we all stop being so harsh with each other? Even if you disagree, there's no reason to name-call, point fingers, and generally be disrespectful toward one another.
Now, let's break this down.
The Mother:
This poor woman. She has drawn the ire of the interwebs, that's for sure. I'm going to admit, I still have a hard time seeing how a properly supervised child could have made it away from his mom, under a railing, thru wire fencing, thru dense vegetation, and scaled a small wall without her noticing until he was already in the moat. In my mind, that could not possibly have happened that quickly. But, I also admit that I was not there. So far I have only read one eye-witness account, and it seems to indicate it really did happen that quickly and the mom was absolutely unable to stop it. Since I was not there, I will defer to the opinion of someone who was, and will say this appears to be a horrible accident.
I do think that even without assigning blame, we can still learn from the incident for our own parenting efforts. Perhaps we reconsider visiting public areas when we know they are likely to be extra-crowded, as it was this holiday weekend. Larger crowds make it more difficult to keep an eye on small children. Perhaps we simply take steps to be more attentive than perhaps we have been in the past. Certainly there are several ways to make this a learning point for our own children. We can talk to them about things like: why it's important to follow instructions, why we stay near parents in crowded places, respecting the homes & habitats of animals, etc. There are any number of ways to turn this into a learning point for ourselves and our children, and I think we should.
The Zoo:
I will begin by stating that I 100% stand by the zoo's decision to use lethal measures to rescue the child. Human life trumps animal life every time. I have read & heard statements from several different experts in this area and have yet to hear one actual expert say the zoo had another reasonable option. Tranquilizers not only take several minutes (estimates range from 10-25 minutes in this situation), but the instant the gorilla felt the dart hit likely would have agitated him further. I've seen numerous people on social media argue that lethal force wasn't necessary, but not only do they not have the credentials to be taken seriously on the matter, I have not heard one offer another, more reasonable option. So I'll stand by the actual experts.
The zoo's director has indicated that the zoo will review everything from the response of the multiple areas of staff involved in the incident, to the security at the exhibit, as they should any time there is an incident such as this. I am curious if any changes will be made to the exhibit. It has been secure for 38 years prior to this incident, but if such a young child really did make it thru the barrier in such a short amount of time, that may indicate a need for improvements. I trust that they will review all the information available and react accordingly.
Zoological Institutions:
At the interest of full disclosure, I support zoos. Are there a few places that call themselves "zoos" that are run in less than adequate ways? Yes, I can't deny it. But by and large, in this country anyway, our major zoos work very hard to preserve & protect a multitude of species, to repopulate endangered species in their natural habitat, to rehabilitate endangered animals with the hopes of returning them to the wild, and to provide the animals in their charge the best care possible.
Let's start with blaming zoos as a whole for this gorilla's death because if he weren't captive this never would have happened. Technically true. But let's dig a little deeper.
The Western Lowland Gorilla is listed as "critically endangered". In short, this means that without intervention they are at high risk of extinction in the wild. Breeding this species in captivity is an important part of ensuring the future of the species as a whole, and the zoo in question has been a leader in this endeavour. When looking at the big picture, the answer isn't quite as easy as "don't put gorillas in captivity". The truth is without captive populations that can ensure the survival of the species it wouldn't be hard to envision the complete obliteration of this beautiful creature from our planet, at the hand of poachers, habitat loss, and the like. Are zoos ideal? No. But this isn't Utopia.
Christian Finger Pointing:
Ugh. Where to begin?
Let's start with those crying out to stop judging the mother with quotes of "judge not lest ye be judged". I hear ya. That verse has been beat to death about everything. Don't judge anybody for anything. It's also not quite that simple.
Just a few verses later we are presented with comparisons regarding the width of the gate to Heaven, false prophets vs real prophets, evaluating people by their fruits. All of which require a type of judgement or discernment. In other areas of the Bible we are instructed to "judge righteously". I think the key is in how we do it, and how we present it.
If we hold ourselves in higher esteem than another, as though we could never be at such fault, if we resort to disrespectful and unkind behaviour, surely this is not appropriate. But are we to review the actions of those around us, discern if they are best behaviors, apply to our lives accordingly? I think the answer is 'yes'.
Next, does human life have more value than animal life? Absolutely. But many of those pushing this point are upset that people are mourning the death of the gorilla, that there was a vigil at the zoo for the deceased animal, that anyone, especially fellow Christians, seem to care for animals at all. I'm not gonna lie, I don't understand this.
First of all, the little boy did not die. He has been released from the hospital with a minor concussion and a few scrapes. He is, for all purposes, fine. Therefore, there is no comparison. The little boy did not lose his life.
Had he died, I feel confident that the outpouring of emotion for his life would far outweigh any for the gorilla. Maybe some disagree, but I do think our society as a whole, Christian or not, does still value human life over animal life. Because the boy (thankfully!) did not die in the incident, but the gorilla did, this comparison, in my opinion, makes no sense.
So what about mourning the loss of an animal, caring for his life, being upset that he died? I believe all of those are not only understandable, but I'm going to go as far to say that they are understandable even within a Christian worldview.
From the beginning, God set man to have dominion over the animal kingdom. They are for us to eat, to clothe us, and most important in this case, for us to take care of them. Caring for the animal kingdom presents itself in different ways to different people, but I believe there is no shame in having an emotional response to the death of an animal. Furthermore, since this gorilla was an important link in the breeding population for this species, then it would be reasonable to mourn his loss even further as we look to the future of the species as a whole.
*******************************************
As we look at this unfortunate incident, I think there is plenty of room for each of us to evaluate what happened, see where we can learn something, and decide if & how to apply it to our lives. We don't all have to agree with one another, but we can try to do so in a respectful manner, can't we?
As always, thanks for checking in.
Friday, February 6, 2015
Our Stance on Vaccines
Because why not post on a hot topic and piss some people off, right?
I research each and every vaccine myself. Here's the background:
I was pregnant with Jena and was given the CDC info sheets for the vaccines they want her to get right away. One of them (I think Hepatitis B), had stats that didn't sit right with me for some reason. Took me a while to figure out. Then I realized. They presented some numbers as percentages, some as fractions, and some as raw numbers. Having spent years at my job making various numbers-based presentations to executives, I know this trick well: you present it in whichever format spins your story the best. Any time you see a report, news article, etc. with numbers presented in multiple fashions, it should be a red flag that they are trying to sell you something. And so I began digging. I just wanted to see for myself.
Think back to math class. Probably late elementary school timing. One of the basic rules of comparing numbers is that to do an accurate comparison you have to get them in the same format. This is when you learn to convert fractions to percentages and vice versa. It is literally elementary school level math. And both sides are using it to their advantage on a regular basis.
It was hard for me to find legitimate info at first. The problem being that the vast majority of sites out there are either very pro-get-every-vaccine-exactly-on-schedule or very-don't-trust-any-vaccine-and/or-the-schedule. Which means they're all spinning the numbers one way or another. So I went to the source.
I now pull all of my stats from the CDC, FDA, and WHO sites. I read manufacturers inserts. When I can I read the policies for those vaccines for other 1st world countries. If there is a difference in recommendation, I try to find out why.
I will tell you that some of this information is VERY hard to find. Which is VERY frustrating to me. I get even more flustered when I can find a stat on one vaccine then can't find it on another. It happens. I'm irritated that the wording is different from one to another. For example, sometimes "death" is lumped in with all serious complications. Other times it is its own entry. These inconsistencies and lack of transparency are perhaps the largest red flags to me.
The end result: we do get the majority of vaccines, and on schedule. We skip a few when the data to support it just isn't there.
I am not an "anti-vaxxer". I am not a "pro-vaxxer". I am a question everything kind of person. I am the kind of person who wants to see for herself. I encourage everyone, no matter what side of the issue you are on, is (if you haven't already) to do your own research. Don't be a sheeple (I love that term).
I'm not going to put our decision regarding specific vaccines on this post (although I think for Jena it's been mentioned before). For a long time I've wanted to publish the numbers and information as I pull them for each individual vaccine, so I'm going to make a concerted effort to do so in the future, lay the numbers out for you, and hopefully help my readers make a more informed decision regarding the care of their families, no matter what they decide.
I research each and every vaccine myself. Here's the background:
I was pregnant with Jena and was given the CDC info sheets for the vaccines they want her to get right away. One of them (I think Hepatitis B), had stats that didn't sit right with me for some reason. Took me a while to figure out. Then I realized. They presented some numbers as percentages, some as fractions, and some as raw numbers. Having spent years at my job making various numbers-based presentations to executives, I know this trick well: you present it in whichever format spins your story the best. Any time you see a report, news article, etc. with numbers presented in multiple fashions, it should be a red flag that they are trying to sell you something. And so I began digging. I just wanted to see for myself.
Think back to math class. Probably late elementary school timing. One of the basic rules of comparing numbers is that to do an accurate comparison you have to get them in the same format. This is when you learn to convert fractions to percentages and vice versa. It is literally elementary school level math. And both sides are using it to their advantage on a regular basis.
It was hard for me to find legitimate info at first. The problem being that the vast majority of sites out there are either very pro-get-every-vaccine-exactly-on-schedule or very-don't-trust-any-vaccine-and/or-the-schedule. Which means they're all spinning the numbers one way or another. So I went to the source.
I now pull all of my stats from the CDC, FDA, and WHO sites. I read manufacturers inserts. When I can I read the policies for those vaccines for other 1st world countries. If there is a difference in recommendation, I try to find out why.
I will tell you that some of this information is VERY hard to find. Which is VERY frustrating to me. I get even more flustered when I can find a stat on one vaccine then can't find it on another. It happens. I'm irritated that the wording is different from one to another. For example, sometimes "death" is lumped in with all serious complications. Other times it is its own entry. These inconsistencies and lack of transparency are perhaps the largest red flags to me.
The end result: we do get the majority of vaccines, and on schedule. We skip a few when the data to support it just isn't there.
I am not an "anti-vaxxer". I am not a "pro-vaxxer". I am a question everything kind of person. I am the kind of person who wants to see for herself. I encourage everyone, no matter what side of the issue you are on, is (if you haven't already) to do your own research. Don't be a sheeple (I love that term).
I'm not going to put our decision regarding specific vaccines on this post (although I think for Jena it's been mentioned before). For a long time I've wanted to publish the numbers and information as I pull them for each individual vaccine, so I'm going to make a concerted effort to do so in the future, lay the numbers out for you, and hopefully help my readers make a more informed decision regarding the care of their families, no matter what they decide.
Wednesday, January 28, 2015
Today has been hard
I was first awakened at 3:30am.
My husband woke me to kiss me goodbye at 6am as he headed off to work.
At 6:45am my youngest decided it was time to get up for breakfast. My oldest awoke at 7:15am.
By 7:30am the baby was going back down for a nap. Exhausted, I crawled back into bed, only for my other charge to interrupt my attempts at sleep roughly every 5 - 10 minutes with random requests for random stuff.
Baby woke up at 8:30am. Screaming. Not falling back to sleep. She's up.
So far today I have had baby food sneezed on me, I have had snot rubbed on my shoulder. I have stepped in spaghetti sauce and baby food and am not sure how either ended up on the floor.
I have listened to an infant cry and sob and scream for the better part of three hours no matter what I did. Is she getting sick? Is she teething? Growth spurt? All three? Who knows. All I know is she's miserable.
I have told my older daughter 'no' what seems like 50 times already today, because I have to meet the demands of the tiniest in the house, and I wish there were some way to express to her how much I hate telling her 'no' so much. I wish she knew that I hate it almost as much as she does and I would love to do everything she asks. But I can't.
I have cried. I have yelled. I haven't laughed. Not many smiles today.
Today has been hard.
I strapped the baby in the high chair long enough to microwave the 6 year old some lunch and put together some baby food and a bottle for the little one.
I managed to scarf down my own microwaved meal when I finally got the baby to bed over an hour later, after she'd been awake for nearly five hours of crying.
Yesterday I spent the day trying to attend to the issues my oldest has been having lately. It's been rough around here the past few months. Really rough. So I dedicated all of yesterday to her. All of it.
I haven't showered in over 48 hours. Haven't done laundry or dishes or any other household chores in two days. And it shows. Terribly. I just used our last clean bottle. I've re-used our last clean baby spoon. So it's not really clean any more. We haven't even had time to do homeschool in two days. Thank goodness she's ahead in the curriculum. Buys us some leeway.
Today has been hard. And it's just past lunch time.
I am tired. On the verge of tears. Today has been hard.
My husband woke me to kiss me goodbye at 6am as he headed off to work.
At 6:45am my youngest decided it was time to get up for breakfast. My oldest awoke at 7:15am.
By 7:30am the baby was going back down for a nap. Exhausted, I crawled back into bed, only for my other charge to interrupt my attempts at sleep roughly every 5 - 10 minutes with random requests for random stuff.
Baby woke up at 8:30am. Screaming. Not falling back to sleep. She's up.
So far today I have had baby food sneezed on me, I have had snot rubbed on my shoulder. I have stepped in spaghetti sauce and baby food and am not sure how either ended up on the floor.
I have listened to an infant cry and sob and scream for the better part of three hours no matter what I did. Is she getting sick? Is she teething? Growth spurt? All three? Who knows. All I know is she's miserable.
I have told my older daughter 'no' what seems like 50 times already today, because I have to meet the demands of the tiniest in the house, and I wish there were some way to express to her how much I hate telling her 'no' so much. I wish she knew that I hate it almost as much as she does and I would love to do everything she asks. But I can't.
I have cried. I have yelled. I haven't laughed. Not many smiles today.
Today has been hard.
I strapped the baby in the high chair long enough to microwave the 6 year old some lunch and put together some baby food and a bottle for the little one.
I managed to scarf down my own microwaved meal when I finally got the baby to bed over an hour later, after she'd been awake for nearly five hours of crying.
Yesterday I spent the day trying to attend to the issues my oldest has been having lately. It's been rough around here the past few months. Really rough. So I dedicated all of yesterday to her. All of it.
I haven't showered in over 48 hours. Haven't done laundry or dishes or any other household chores in two days. And it shows. Terribly. I just used our last clean bottle. I've re-used our last clean baby spoon. So it's not really clean any more. We haven't even had time to do homeschool in two days. Thank goodness she's ahead in the curriculum. Buys us some leeway.
Today has been hard. And it's just past lunch time.
I am tired. On the verge of tears. Today has been hard.
Sunday, June 8, 2014
My Damn Phone
So the other day we ventured to the park, first time taking Jill, first time as a family of four.
At one point I was in the backseat of the car feeding Jill, Jena was playing on the playground, and Jason was watching Jena.
Or was supposed to be.
I watched as she yelled out "Watch this Daddy!", then jumped onto the monkey bars, her latest conquest.
She finished her trick, and turned back to him... to see him staring down at the phone. I saw the look of disappointment cross her face. I saw her hesitate for a minute, before moving along to the next piece of equipment.
And it broke my heart.
And I'm not telling you this to vilify my husband in any way.
Because the truth is I'm sure she's seen me do the same thing more than once. I'm sure that look of disappointment has crossed her face more than once because I was staring at my damn phone.
I'm telling you this because I know many of you are guilty of the same thing.
I've read the articles, seen the blog posts. But to see the look on my own daughter's face, to see how it affected her directly... well, it really makes it hit home a little more.
I know it's extra hard for Jena right now, as she's also adjusting to sharing our attention with another child for the first time in five years. So once I finished feeding Jill, I took her out of the car, handed her to Jason, and spent a few minutes following Jena around the playground, asking her to pose for pictures that I took, making her the center of my universe for the first time in way-too-long.
And I watched her entire demeanor change... for the better.
And so I challenge my blog readers to do the same: at your next possible chance, spend 10-15 minutes giving your child your undivided attention. Let me know if there's a noticeable change in their attitude. There was with mine.
As always, thanks for checking in.
At one point I was in the backseat of the car feeding Jill, Jena was playing on the playground, and Jason was watching Jena.
Or was supposed to be.
I watched as she yelled out "Watch this Daddy!", then jumped onto the monkey bars, her latest conquest.
She finished her trick, and turned back to him... to see him staring down at the phone. I saw the look of disappointment cross her face. I saw her hesitate for a minute, before moving along to the next piece of equipment.
 |
| source |
And it broke my heart.
And I'm not telling you this to vilify my husband in any way.
Because the truth is I'm sure she's seen me do the same thing more than once. I'm sure that look of disappointment has crossed her face more than once because I was staring at my damn phone.
I'm telling you this because I know many of you are guilty of the same thing.
I've read the articles, seen the blog posts. But to see the look on my own daughter's face, to see how it affected her directly... well, it really makes it hit home a little more.
I know it's extra hard for Jena right now, as she's also adjusting to sharing our attention with another child for the first time in five years. So once I finished feeding Jill, I took her out of the car, handed her to Jason, and spent a few minutes following Jena around the playground, asking her to pose for pictures that I took, making her the center of my universe for the first time in way-too-long.
And I watched her entire demeanor change... for the better.
And so I challenge my blog readers to do the same: at your next possible chance, spend 10-15 minutes giving your child your undivided attention. Let me know if there's a noticeable change in their attitude. There was with mine.
As always, thanks for checking in.
Friday, May 2, 2014
Hugs & Kisses
So I’ve made a parenting decision that seems to be stirring
a bit of trouble. Ends up neither set of grandparents like the decision, and my
mother-in-law actually finds it “rude”.
What could this be?
Well, I decided from the beginning that Jena would not be
forced to give hugs or kisses as a greeting. Even to us. Even to grandparents.
This was a deliberate, thought-out decision.
My thinking is that I don’t ever want to teach my daughter
that anyone has the right to obligate, coerce, or force her to show physical
affection. Anyone. Including me.
My hope is that this type of thinking will stick to her,
long past her childhood years, into her teenage years, into dating, and relationships,
and quite frankly throughout the rest of her life.
In fact, dear readers, let me reiterate this teaching for
you, in case no one ever told you:
No one has the right to obligate, coerce, force, or shame
you to extend or receive physical affection. No one.
It’s not something that I plan on backing down from. I understand
there are those who disagree; those who think that children should be taught to
give hugs & kisses as greetings, especially to family members.
That’s okay. We’re just gonna have to agree to disagree.
With Jena, I can tell you it’s probably about a 50/50 shot
whether or not she gives hugs. Kisses are very rare. This is whether it is me,
Jason, my parents, or my mother-in-law. Outside of that circle, your chances of
receiving physical affection of her of any sort are very slim.
And I’m okay with that.
Are there times when I would like a hug & a kiss instead
of an outstretched hand followed by a loud “BYE!” ? Sure there are. She’s my daughter.
I’d smother her with affection on a regular basis. Except she’s not comfortable
with that. And I respect that.
Not all family members do
.
My parents have decided to respect our parenting decision,
but they also let us know that it sometimes hurts their feelings if she doesn’t
want to give them a hug or kiss.
My mother-in-law recently described Jena’s behavior as “rude”
and “disrespectful”. When pressed for examples, not giving a hug or kiss every
time they see each other was one of only two she could provide. And she’s upset
that we don’t “correct” her behavior.
I’ll be honest, I’m
not sure how to handle this. I certainly don’t want my child to be truly rude
or disrespectful, to anyone, let alone her grandmother. But I also am not backing
down on this issue either. And since we’ve previously explained our stance on
this, and why, to ask Jena to do otherwise, or to ask us to “correct” her
behavior when she’s following the guidelines we’ve set forth, is quite disrespectful to us as her parents.
At the same time, MIL appears to be quite upset about the “respect” issue, and since this is only one of two issues she brought up, part of me feels compelled to act. I just don’t know how.
At the same time, MIL appears to be quite upset about the “respect” issue, and since this is only one of two issues she brought up, part of me feels compelled to act. I just don’t know how.
Any thoughts, dear readers?
Sunday, September 22, 2013
Parental Guidance
If your parents sent you to school... thank them for making sure you got an education.
If your parents helped you learn to read, even if it was simply by making sure you got to school so the teachers could help or reading you a story once in a while... thank them for giving you the gift of reading.
If your parents helped you learn basic mathematics skills, even if it was simply by putting you on the bus to school each morning... thank them for giving you the gift of math.
If your parents checked your homework, punished you for a bad report card, or showed up for a teachers' conference... thank them for showing an interest in your development and education.
If your parents permitted you to participate in school plays, music groups, sports, or any other school activities... thank them for supporting your interests.
If your parents permitted you to participate in church groups, community leagues, scout programs, hunting, fishing, community classes, etc... thank them for supporting your interests.
If your parents made you do chores... thank them for teaching you about work.
If your parents gave you an allowance, or even just trusted you to use your lunch money for lunch... thank them for teaching you about money management.
If your parents insisted you help take care of animals at your house... thank them for teaching you responsibility.
If your parents punished you for wrongdoing... thank them for teaching you discipline.
If your parents worked hard nearly every day... thank them for showing you a strong work ethic.
If your parents helped you learn to read, even if it was simply by making sure you got to school so the teachers could help or reading you a story once in a while... thank them for giving you the gift of reading.
If your parents helped you learn basic mathematics skills, even if it was simply by putting you on the bus to school each morning... thank them for giving you the gift of math.
If your parents checked your homework, punished you for a bad report card, or showed up for a teachers' conference... thank them for showing an interest in your development and education.
If your parents permitted you to participate in school plays, music groups, sports, or any other school activities... thank them for supporting your interests.
If your parents permitted you to participate in church groups, community leagues, scout programs, hunting, fishing, community classes, etc... thank them for supporting your interests.
If your parents made you do chores... thank them for teaching you about work.
If your parents gave you an allowance, or even just trusted you to use your lunch money for lunch... thank them for teaching you about money management.
If your parents insisted you help take care of animals at your house... thank them for teaching you responsibility.
If your parents punished you for wrongdoing... thank them for teaching you discipline.
If your parents worked hard nearly every day... thank them for showing you a strong work ethic.
Sunday, September 15, 2013
What's a Diet?
Recently my 4-year-old daughter and I had a conversation that was quite eye-opening for me.
It began as she looked over my shoulder while I checked Facebook. As I was scrolling down, she asked me to stop & go back up so she could look at a picture of a very overweight cat.
She asked why that picture was on there.
I explained that it was a story about a cat who was rescued and put on a diet.
"What's a diet?"
Crap. I have tried very hard to not let any references to dieting, weight loss, body image, etc. into our home. As much as I have struggled with my weight, I am keenly aware that girls often inherit body image issues from their mothers. And that is something I do not want. So I have consciously avoided the topic, or deflected when it came up.
So now... what to say?
I told her that a diet is what they call it when someone is trying to eat healthier, to put more good, healthy foods into their body. That the cat needed to be healthier, so they put him on a diet.
"People go on diets so they can be big & fat like you?"
Heart. Sinks.
My daughter knows that I am fat. Even though I did not tell her that, and try very hard not to use the word in our home, she came to the revelation herself. It's not a secret. The eye-opening moment here was that she thinks it's a good thing. She thinks people want to be big & fat like Mommy. $@#+!
So I tried gently to explain. No, people don't want to be fat like Mommy, in fact Mommy has too much fat and I'm trying to eat healthier to try to lose some of my fat so I can have a strong and healthy body like Jena.
Oh.
************************************
It's a delicate tightrope, discussing weight with our daughters. We want to inform them, give them a healthy perspective, but we also want them to tolerate differences and love themselves no matter what they look like.
Once, while clothes shopping, Jena asked what size she should be when she grows up, as if she could aspire to be a certain size.
I responded that I didn't know yet, that we won't know until she's older, but that she should be a size that is a good, healthy size for her.
Then we had a little talk about how everyone comes in different shapes and sizes (and skin! and hair!) and that that's okay, it's good even, that we're all different. God made each of us, so it's all beautiful. That everyone should just try to be a size that is good and healthy for their body, and that's going to be different for everyone.
This whole experience just doubles my desire to reach a healthier weight, not just for me, but for her. Because the fact is our daughters are watching us and they want to be like us.
It honestly never occurred to me that my daughter might aspire to be as fat as I am, or that she would think other people would want to be this fat.
Sure, she loves that we both have blonde hair, and we both have blue eyes, will she be as tall as Mommy, etc, etc, etc.
But it never dawned on me that she'd want to be as fat as Mommy as well. My bad.
Mothers, we need to be healthy, have healthy habits, present ourselves in a healthy manner not just for us, but for our kids. We have to realize that as a parent, it's not just about us anymore.
As always, thanks for checking in.
It began as she looked over my shoulder while I checked Facebook. As I was scrolling down, she asked me to stop & go back up so she could look at a picture of a very overweight cat.
 |
| source |
I explained that it was a story about a cat who was rescued and put on a diet.
"What's a diet?"
Crap. I have tried very hard to not let any references to dieting, weight loss, body image, etc. into our home. As much as I have struggled with my weight, I am keenly aware that girls often inherit body image issues from their mothers. And that is something I do not want. So I have consciously avoided the topic, or deflected when it came up.
So now... what to say?
I told her that a diet is what they call it when someone is trying to eat healthier, to put more good, healthy foods into their body. That the cat needed to be healthier, so they put him on a diet.
"People go on diets so they can be big & fat like you?"
Heart. Sinks.
My daughter knows that I am fat. Even though I did not tell her that, and try very hard not to use the word in our home, she came to the revelation herself. It's not a secret. The eye-opening moment here was that she thinks it's a good thing. She thinks people want to be big & fat like Mommy. $@#+!
So I tried gently to explain. No, people don't want to be fat like Mommy, in fact Mommy has too much fat and I'm trying to eat healthier to try to lose some of my fat so I can have a strong and healthy body like Jena.
Oh.
************************************
It's a delicate tightrope, discussing weight with our daughters. We want to inform them, give them a healthy perspective, but we also want them to tolerate differences and love themselves no matter what they look like.
Once, while clothes shopping, Jena asked what size she should be when she grows up, as if she could aspire to be a certain size.
I responded that I didn't know yet, that we won't know until she's older, but that she should be a size that is a good, healthy size for her.
Then we had a little talk about how everyone comes in different shapes and sizes (and skin! and hair!) and that that's okay, it's good even, that we're all different. God made each of us, so it's all beautiful. That everyone should just try to be a size that is good and healthy for their body, and that's going to be different for everyone.
This whole experience just doubles my desire to reach a healthier weight, not just for me, but for her. Because the fact is our daughters are watching us and they want to be like us.
It honestly never occurred to me that my daughter might aspire to be as fat as I am, or that she would think other people would want to be this fat.
Sure, she loves that we both have blonde hair, and we both have blue eyes, will she be as tall as Mommy, etc, etc, etc.
But it never dawned on me that she'd want to be as fat as Mommy as well. My bad.
Mothers, we need to be healthy, have healthy habits, present ourselves in a healthy manner not just for us, but for our kids. We have to realize that as a parent, it's not just about us anymore.
As always, thanks for checking in.
Sunday, September 8, 2013
Modesty
Recently I discovered the blog Feminine Modesty, and it has me doing a lot of thinking on the subject. I think especially being the mother of a little girl, the thoughts just keep tumbling around in my head. So here goes my attempt to write them down.
*********************
I think we need to teach our children how to dress and behave modestly. Our boys too, yes, but in our society parents of daughters need to make it a point to teach our girls how to dress properly.
I think what "modesty" means varies from person to person. It's affected by your spiritual beliefs, your upbringing, and the society & community you live in, but if you think about it, it's there somewhere.
I think as parents we need to define what it means to dress modestly for our family, and stick to it.
More specifically, we can't dress up little girls in adult clothing and think it's cute, then lament when they grow into teenagers that dress the same way.
For example, if you don't want your 16-year-old going to the pool in a string bikini, then don't put your 4-year-old in one. If you don't want your 14-year-old daughter shaking her booty for everyone to see, then you can't giggle when you're 5-year-old does it because it's "so cute".
Basically, we have to think of these things now, set the standards now, while our daughters are young & cute & innocent. If we wait until they hit puberty, their bodies are developing, and they want to test the waters, then it's too late.
*********************
My own views of what it means to dress modestly have changed throughout the years.
In my younger years, I was raised in a home where girls did not wear pants and no one wore shorts. As girls/women we wore long skirts (knee length or longer) or coulottes. If it was really cold out, we put long johns, tights, or sweat pants under them. Nothing we wore was tight, but it could be fitted.
My parents made exceptions for gym class / athletic activities (sweat pants, no shorts) and participating in sports (softball uniform = pants). Most families in the church did not.
Somewhere in there, my parents changed the rules. I'm not 100% sure why, but I can tell you I remember getting my first pair of jeans from the thrift store when I was 13 years old. I specifically remember shopping for them, as it was a momentous occasion.
And at some point I was permitted to wear shorts.
My parents never had to worry about me wearing anything too low cut, as I have a scar on my chest that is above the cleavage line that I was very self-conscious about. I used to sew panels or trim into my shirts / dresses to make the neckline higher to hide the scar. I could have cared less how my cleavage looked.
Because we were very active in our church, who (now) had a much stricter view of modesty than we did, much of my wardrobe remained in long skirts & coulottes. I remember going to college at 18 years old, and still wearing coulottes. I wore them until they wore out.
Through my experiences, I've learned a few things.
If you set standards when your kids are young:
- most kids won't feel deprived. I cannot tell you how many people have made comments about how difficult it must have been for me to grow up in such a strict home. Nope. Wrong. As a young person, your "normal" is what you live, you don't know it's different until someone tells you. And life is much easier for kids (well, everyone really) when standards and rules are set in place and enforced. It's clear. There's no confusion, there's no second-guessing. You know what is expected of you and you do it.
- performance will almost always be below expectation at some point. Yes, teenagers & young adults have a habit of testing boundaries when it comes to modesty & behavior. If you set your standard at long skirts, your daughter may test you by wearing something tighter than you would prefer. If you set your standard at mini skirts are okay, your daughter may test you by wearing a micro-mini that she can't bend over in without risking an arrest for indecent exposure. Both of those examples are extremes, yes, but the fact is the higher your standard, the higher your child's performance.
- the standards you set for your children will follow them thru life. Yes, the truth is that I now wear things I would never have been allowed to wear growing up. I sometimes wear things that for me are right on the limits of what my modesty permits me to wear: my "sexy" clothes, per se. But I've had other people call these same items of clothing my "old lady clothes". My point is that what is revealing to me, others consider overly modest. Since the people who make these comments are friends of mine, we can talk about it. It comes down to our upbringing, in regards to our clothing. What was acceptable to them growing up was completely unacceptable to my family. So while I feel like I'm pushing boundaries, they see me as being dressed conservatively. Feel sexy, but the world sees me as modest? Yes, please.
*****************
Listen, I'm not saying everyone has to be raised how I was raised to be able to dress modestly. I am fully aware that everyone has different ideas of what it means to be dressed / behave appropriately. And I will tell you that we are not raising our daughter in as strict of a home as I was raised.
What I am saying is that it has to be taught, there has to be a standard lived out in your home. Your kids are watching you and following the standard you have set for them. The question is: what is that standard? Because if you haven't made a conscious decision about it, then are you really sure you're okay with it?
******************
As always, thanks for checking in.
*********************
I think we need to teach our children how to dress and behave modestly. Our boys too, yes, but in our society parents of daughters need to make it a point to teach our girls how to dress properly.
I think what "modesty" means varies from person to person. It's affected by your spiritual beliefs, your upbringing, and the society & community you live in, but if you think about it, it's there somewhere.
I think as parents we need to define what it means to dress modestly for our family, and stick to it.
More specifically, we can't dress up little girls in adult clothing and think it's cute, then lament when they grow into teenagers that dress the same way.
For example, if you don't want your 16-year-old going to the pool in a string bikini, then don't put your 4-year-old in one. If you don't want your 14-year-old daughter shaking her booty for everyone to see, then you can't giggle when you're 5-year-old does it because it's "so cute".
Basically, we have to think of these things now, set the standards now, while our daughters are young & cute & innocent. If we wait until they hit puberty, their bodies are developing, and they want to test the waters, then it's too late.
*********************
My own views of what it means to dress modestly have changed throughout the years.
In my younger years, I was raised in a home where girls did not wear pants and no one wore shorts. As girls/women we wore long skirts (knee length or longer) or coulottes. If it was really cold out, we put long johns, tights, or sweat pants under them. Nothing we wore was tight, but it could be fitted.
My parents made exceptions for gym class / athletic activities (sweat pants, no shorts) and participating in sports (softball uniform = pants). Most families in the church did not.
Somewhere in there, my parents changed the rules. I'm not 100% sure why, but I can tell you I remember getting my first pair of jeans from the thrift store when I was 13 years old. I specifically remember shopping for them, as it was a momentous occasion.
And at some point I was permitted to wear shorts.
My parents never had to worry about me wearing anything too low cut, as I have a scar on my chest that is above the cleavage line that I was very self-conscious about. I used to sew panels or trim into my shirts / dresses to make the neckline higher to hide the scar. I could have cared less how my cleavage looked.
Because we were very active in our church, who (now) had a much stricter view of modesty than we did, much of my wardrobe remained in long skirts & coulottes. I remember going to college at 18 years old, and still wearing coulottes. I wore them until they wore out.
Through my experiences, I've learned a few things.
If you set standards when your kids are young:
- most kids won't feel deprived. I cannot tell you how many people have made comments about how difficult it must have been for me to grow up in such a strict home. Nope. Wrong. As a young person, your "normal" is what you live, you don't know it's different until someone tells you. And life is much easier for kids (well, everyone really) when standards and rules are set in place and enforced. It's clear. There's no confusion, there's no second-guessing. You know what is expected of you and you do it.
- performance will almost always be below expectation at some point. Yes, teenagers & young adults have a habit of testing boundaries when it comes to modesty & behavior. If you set your standard at long skirts, your daughter may test you by wearing something tighter than you would prefer. If you set your standard at mini skirts are okay, your daughter may test you by wearing a micro-mini that she can't bend over in without risking an arrest for indecent exposure. Both of those examples are extremes, yes, but the fact is the higher your standard, the higher your child's performance.
- the standards you set for your children will follow them thru life. Yes, the truth is that I now wear things I would never have been allowed to wear growing up. I sometimes wear things that for me are right on the limits of what my modesty permits me to wear: my "sexy" clothes, per se. But I've had other people call these same items of clothing my "old lady clothes". My point is that what is revealing to me, others consider overly modest. Since the people who make these comments are friends of mine, we can talk about it. It comes down to our upbringing, in regards to our clothing. What was acceptable to them growing up was completely unacceptable to my family. So while I feel like I'm pushing boundaries, they see me as being dressed conservatively. Feel sexy, but the world sees me as modest? Yes, please.
*****************
Listen, I'm not saying everyone has to be raised how I was raised to be able to dress modestly. I am fully aware that everyone has different ideas of what it means to be dressed / behave appropriately. And I will tell you that we are not raising our daughter in as strict of a home as I was raised.
What I am saying is that it has to be taught, there has to be a standard lived out in your home. Your kids are watching you and following the standard you have set for them. The question is: what is that standard? Because if you haven't made a conscious decision about it, then are you really sure you're okay with it?
******************
As always, thanks for checking in.
Thursday, August 15, 2013
Just call me "mom"
I was gonna write this whole long post about the following terms, what they mean, and how they affect us:
working mom
SAHM
homemaker
housewife
I even had it started, was a few paragraphs in. Then I realized that even the most well-intentioned writings on this subject still tend to have the effect of fueling the fires of the mommy wars. That although I knew what I was trying to say, there was a high likelihood that someone would interpret it differently and take offense.
And I don't want that.
So instead of this long post where I ramble about my thoughts on the subject, I'm gonna simply get down to the point:
Maybe instead of having all these different titles at all, we should all rebel and start calling ourselves simply "mom".
Because the fact of the matter is that SAHMs work, and working moms are still homemakers. With rare exception, moms of every kind "do it all".
We're all doing the best we can to do right by our families, to raise our children in this crazy world.
So instead of labelling each other, instead of accepting labels for ourselves, labels that divide instead of unite, maybe we should reject the labels, call each other by our names, and if someone feels the need to ask what we do, we tell them:
working mom
SAHM
homemaker
housewife
I even had it started, was a few paragraphs in. Then I realized that even the most well-intentioned writings on this subject still tend to have the effect of fueling the fires of the mommy wars. That although I knew what I was trying to say, there was a high likelihood that someone would interpret it differently and take offense.
And I don't want that.
So instead of this long post where I ramble about my thoughts on the subject, I'm gonna simply get down to the point:
Maybe instead of having all these different titles at all, we should all rebel and start calling ourselves simply "mom".
Because the fact of the matter is that SAHMs work, and working moms are still homemakers. With rare exception, moms of every kind "do it all".
We're all doing the best we can to do right by our families, to raise our children in this crazy world.
So instead of labelling each other, instead of accepting labels for ourselves, labels that divide instead of unite, maybe we should reject the labels, call each other by our names, and if someone feels the need to ask what we do, we tell them:
Saturday, July 20, 2013
Serious Topic for a Little Girl
Do you remember this post? The one where Jena sees no difference between herself and a dark-skinned cartoon character? Well, I think she sees the difference now.
You see, Jena goes to a very diverse school. White, Black, Asian, East Indian, mixed race, etc, etc, etc. Three of the kids in her class are bi-lingual. One is tri-lingual. And those are only the most obvious differences.
And for the past two years Jena's best friend has been African-American. And Jena has insisted that they are "almost sisters".
She had never seemed to notice differences in race or ethnicity, never blinked an eye at physical differences. Except tattoos. She's always been obsessed with tattoos. Since before she could talk. Lord, help us when she gets older.
So imagine my surprise when on the ride home from school (and yes, the best conversations happen in the car), she asked me if I knew that Katie* had "different skin".
Now in these instances, I prefer to play dumb, and let her tell me things in her own words.
Me: "Really? How is it different?"
Jena: "It's brownish"
Me: "Oh, so just the color?"
Jena: "Yeah"
We sat quiet for a few minutes.
She then proceeded to tell me the color of every kid in her class. Keep in mind, she knows nothing of the different "races".
So, according to Jena:
Katie is brownish.
Another child is grayish-yellow.
Another is yellow-ish gray.
One is brownish-yellow.
Another is blackish-brown.
Her skin is silvery.
Another's is silvery whitish yellow.
When she finished, I felt compelled to intiate the next part of the conversation.
Me: "Isn't that awesome?!?"
silence
Me: "God made everybody, and He made us all different. People come in all different colors, and isn't that beautiful how He did that?"
Jena nods.
Me: "I just think it's amazing how we can all be the same, because we're all people, but we can all look different. Isn't that cool?"
Jena nods.
Silence.
Jena: "Mommy, did you know there are people out there who don't like brown skin?"
Shocked into silence for a second. Wow, this conversation got really serious, really quickly. Never thought I'd have this conversation with my 4 year old. Realize I need to gather my thoughts and respond quickly.
Me: "There are?!? Why?!?"
Jena shrugs
Jena: "They wish they could rub the brown skin off until there's just blood."
Shocked by the graphic nature of this description.
Me: "No way! Why would anyone want to do that?!?"
Jena: "I don't know"
Me: "Me either"
Jena: "I think they're mad because they're skin is different"
Me: "Well, that's silly. God made everybody, and God only makes awesome, beautiful things, so if He made someone a different color, that means they have to be beautiful, just how He made them."
Jena: "Yeah!"
Me: "So those people shouldn't be mad at the people with brown skin, they were just born that way. If they wanna be mad at someone, they can be mad at God!"
Jena: "Yeah!"
Me: "I'm glad everyone's different. It would be boring if we all looked the same"
Jena: "What are we having for dinner?"
She's usually pretty good at letting me know when the conversation's over.
It never dawned on me I'd be having a conversation on such a serious topic with her until she was much older. But I'm glad it did happen when she was young enough that we can be intentional about our approach with her.
Let's be clear: racism is taught. And it will not be taught, or tolerated, in our home. Period.
As always, thanks for checking in!
______________________________
*name changed to protect the innocent
** inspired to write down this true story after reading this post on another blog
You see, Jena goes to a very diverse school. White, Black, Asian, East Indian, mixed race, etc, etc, etc. Three of the kids in her class are bi-lingual. One is tri-lingual. And those are only the most obvious differences.
And for the past two years Jena's best friend has been African-American. And Jena has insisted that they are "almost sisters".
She had never seemed to notice differences in race or ethnicity, never blinked an eye at physical differences. Except tattoos. She's always been obsessed with tattoos. Since before she could talk. Lord, help us when she gets older.
So imagine my surprise when on the ride home from school (and yes, the best conversations happen in the car), she asked me if I knew that Katie* had "different skin".
Now in these instances, I prefer to play dumb, and let her tell me things in her own words.
Me: "Really? How is it different?"
Jena: "It's brownish"
Me: "Oh, so just the color?"
Jena: "Yeah"
We sat quiet for a few minutes.
She then proceeded to tell me the color of every kid in her class. Keep in mind, she knows nothing of the different "races".
So, according to Jena:
Katie is brownish.
Another child is grayish-yellow.
Another is yellow-ish gray.
One is brownish-yellow.
Another is blackish-brown.
Her skin is silvery.
Another's is silvery whitish yellow.
When she finished, I felt compelled to intiate the next part of the conversation.
Me: "Isn't that awesome?!?"
silence
Me: "God made everybody, and He made us all different. People come in all different colors, and isn't that beautiful how He did that?"
Jena nods.
Me: "I just think it's amazing how we can all be the same, because we're all people, but we can all look different. Isn't that cool?"
Jena nods.
Silence.
Jena: "Mommy, did you know there are people out there who don't like brown skin?"
Shocked into silence for a second. Wow, this conversation got really serious, really quickly. Never thought I'd have this conversation with my 4 year old. Realize I need to gather my thoughts and respond quickly.
Me: "There are?!? Why?!?"
Jena shrugs
Jena: "They wish they could rub the brown skin off until there's just blood."
Shocked by the graphic nature of this description.
Me: "No way! Why would anyone want to do that?!?"
Jena: "I don't know"
Me: "Me either"
Jena: "I think they're mad because they're skin is different"
Me: "Well, that's silly. God made everybody, and God only makes awesome, beautiful things, so if He made someone a different color, that means they have to be beautiful, just how He made them."
Jena: "Yeah!"
Me: "So those people shouldn't be mad at the people with brown skin, they were just born that way. If they wanna be mad at someone, they can be mad at God!"
Jena: "Yeah!"
Me: "I'm glad everyone's different. It would be boring if we all looked the same"
Jena: "What are we having for dinner?"
She's usually pretty good at letting me know when the conversation's over.
It never dawned on me I'd be having a conversation on such a serious topic with her until she was much older. But I'm glad it did happen when she was young enough that we can be intentional about our approach with her.
Let's be clear: racism is taught. And it will not be taught, or tolerated, in our home. Period.
As always, thanks for checking in!
______________________________
*name changed to protect the innocent
** inspired to write down this true story after reading this post on another blog
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
My husband is my daugther's dad
So, during a game miniature golf on our vacation, Jena had a meltdown. A major, gigantic, uncharacteristic-of-her meltdown.
It all surrounded a hole where you had to get your ball up a steep (miniature golf steep) hill. Jena, using her one-handed technique, tried 5 times and never came close. Nor did she want help. She loudly did not want help.
Proceed to meltdown.
At first, we were concerned. Jason & I looked at each other, and I mouthed "is she sick?". Because, that my friends, is about the only time you get a completely unwarranted tantrum out of Jena (well, now. When she was younger... Lord help us all)
So I sat on the ground, invited her into my lap, and talked to her for a bit. She calmed down, and was ready to try again. Giving up is not something that I want to encourage, and not something she does naturally. She's persistant, that one.
While we were talking, the others had gone ahead, and Grandpa had moved her ball to the top of the hill. She frowned, picked up her ball, and announced that she was going to the next hole. As I was opening my mouth to encourage her to try again, her announcement was met by a chorus of encouragement from all three of her grandparents:
"That's a great idea, let's move on!"
"Sometimes it's okay to skip hard things!"
and my personal favorite
"Giving up is a great idea! You can just do the next one!"
I kid you not. Her grandparents encouraged her to give up. I shook my head, and moved on. She already had, and seemed happy, as did everyone else. Maybe not every moment has to be about a life lesson.
So we moved on. Did I mention this hole was around hole 5? Of an 18-hole course?
Original meltdown aside, she made it thru the rest of the course, but not without some resistance, some back-talk, and just a generally bad attitude. We'd correct her behavior, only to have her repeat it again.
And then... we were done. We were on the last hole. She was so excited that she was the first one whose ball disappeared down the hole. We're almost done, we're happy... until she announces that she wants to play again and doesn't want to turn her club in. We inform her that we're done and moving on to more super-fun stuff on our vacation.
She runs off, about 10 feet away from us, still in our view, and curls herself into the side of a hedge, and cries. And I mean sobs.
At this point, I'm still concerned that she might be sick, and am perfectly willing to let her cry it out until we're all ready to leave.
Jason was not. He had had enough of her attitude, and was especially not happy with her running off, even if it weren't that far.
He went to get her, and when she saw him coming... she ran.
He finally caught her, and what ensued was not pretty. Lots of screaming. The kind that draws the attention of the other people on the course, no matter which hole they were at. Necks craned to see what the fuss is about.
To be honest, this whole scene was difficult for me. Very, very hard.
You've gotta remember, with his firefighter schedule, plus running a side business, I do 99% of the parenting in our household. And we have very different methods for dealing with her.
The grandparents found a couple of benches about 50 feet away, out of sight, in the shade, and retired there. I stayed at first, listening.
It was very, very hard for me to not intervene. But I didn't. I let my husband be her dad and parent her.
I stayed until she caught sight of me. Because at that point she started struggling against him even harder, reaching out her arms, and screaming for me.
And so, when she wasn't looking, I disappeared behind a building and joined my parents on the benches.
But before I left, I snapped this picture:
Can you see them? He's wearing a green shirt, back facing us, in the middle of the flowers. She's on his lap, but not happy about it.
Something inside me said this was a moment. As painful as it was, it was something to be remembered. And so I pulled out my camera, and clicked.
Eventually (hours, it must have been, or so it seemed) they rejoined us, and we finally left that attraction. Finally.
We finished the day tantrum-free. And I think we all learned a lesson that day.
Mine was a reminder that he is her dad. Oh sure, we know it, but with him being gone so much, and me consequently handling the vast majority of parenting items, it's good to have little reminders now and again.
My husband, is her dad.
It all surrounded a hole where you had to get your ball up a steep (miniature golf steep) hill. Jena, using her one-handed technique, tried 5 times and never came close. Nor did she want help. She loudly did not want help.
Proceed to meltdown.
At first, we were concerned. Jason & I looked at each other, and I mouthed "is she sick?". Because, that my friends, is about the only time you get a completely unwarranted tantrum out of Jena (well, now. When she was younger... Lord help us all)
So I sat on the ground, invited her into my lap, and talked to her for a bit. She calmed down, and was ready to try again. Giving up is not something that I want to encourage, and not something she does naturally. She's persistant, that one.
While we were talking, the others had gone ahead, and Grandpa had moved her ball to the top of the hill. She frowned, picked up her ball, and announced that she was going to the next hole. As I was opening my mouth to encourage her to try again, her announcement was met by a chorus of encouragement from all three of her grandparents:
"That's a great idea, let's move on!"
"Sometimes it's okay to skip hard things!"
and my personal favorite
"Giving up is a great idea! You can just do the next one!"
I kid you not. Her grandparents encouraged her to give up. I shook my head, and moved on. She already had, and seemed happy, as did everyone else. Maybe not every moment has to be about a life lesson.
So we moved on. Did I mention this hole was around hole 5? Of an 18-hole course?
Original meltdown aside, she made it thru the rest of the course, but not without some resistance, some back-talk, and just a generally bad attitude. We'd correct her behavior, only to have her repeat it again.
And then... we were done. We were on the last hole. She was so excited that she was the first one whose ball disappeared down the hole. We're almost done, we're happy... until she announces that she wants to play again and doesn't want to turn her club in. We inform her that we're done and moving on to more super-fun stuff on our vacation.
She runs off, about 10 feet away from us, still in our view, and curls herself into the side of a hedge, and cries. And I mean sobs.
At this point, I'm still concerned that she might be sick, and am perfectly willing to let her cry it out until we're all ready to leave.
Jason was not. He had had enough of her attitude, and was especially not happy with her running off, even if it weren't that far.
He went to get her, and when she saw him coming... she ran.
He finally caught her, and what ensued was not pretty. Lots of screaming. The kind that draws the attention of the other people on the course, no matter which hole they were at. Necks craned to see what the fuss is about.
To be honest, this whole scene was difficult for me. Very, very hard.
You've gotta remember, with his firefighter schedule, plus running a side business, I do 99% of the parenting in our household. And we have very different methods for dealing with her.
The grandparents found a couple of benches about 50 feet away, out of sight, in the shade, and retired there. I stayed at first, listening.
It was very, very hard for me to not intervene. But I didn't. I let my husband be her dad and parent her.
I stayed until she caught sight of me. Because at that point she started struggling against him even harder, reaching out her arms, and screaming for me.
And so, when she wasn't looking, I disappeared behind a building and joined my parents on the benches.
But before I left, I snapped this picture:
Can you see them? He's wearing a green shirt, back facing us, in the middle of the flowers. She's on his lap, but not happy about it.
Something inside me said this was a moment. As painful as it was, it was something to be remembered. And so I pulled out my camera, and clicked.
Eventually (hours, it must have been, or so it seemed) they rejoined us, and we finally left that attraction. Finally.
We finished the day tantrum-free. And I think we all learned a lesson that day.
Mine was a reminder that he is her dad. Oh sure, we know it, but with him being gone so much, and me consequently handling the vast majority of parenting items, it's good to have little reminders now and again.
My husband, is her dad.
Saturday, June 8, 2013
Connect your neurons!
A few weeks ago one of my dear readers, violajack, suggested an article on the power of praise. Yeah, you should probably go ahead and click on that link and read it. It's lengthy, but worth it. Go ahead. I'll wait.
.
.
.
.
Okay, now that we're all on the same page, let me just say that I am so glad she shared this with me. I've always made a point of praising Jena for her accomplishments, but the fact is I wasn't. Instead of praising her for doing good work, I was telling her she was smart, she was strong, she was {insert blank}.
And I got it. Her teacher gets it too. The lead teacher in her class, the one who has over 20 years of teaching experience, gets it. When the kids are learning a new task, she tells them they are connecting their neurons. I've heard it with my own ears.
"Connect your neurons!" she'll say, encouraging them to keep at it until they get it.
She gets it.
And so I'm working not to praise Jena less, necessarily, but to change the way I praise her.
When she gets all her math problems correct, instead of saying "Great job! You're so smart." I now say something like "Great job! I'm proud of you for working hard to learn your math!"
When she pulls herself up, using all her arm strength, instead of saying "You're so strong!" I say something like "Look at you! You kept trying until you got it! Awesome!"
And whatever it is, if we have a few moments for a longer talk, I'll throw in something reminding her of she couldn't do it previously, and how proud I am of her for keeping at it, and now just look at her, she's doing it.
I think sometimes we all fall into this pattern of saying things without really thinking of the message we're sending. It's something I've definitely been more cognizent of since reading the article, and something I'm working toward changing.
As always, thanks for checking in!
.
.
.
.
Okay, now that we're all on the same page, let me just say that I am so glad she shared this with me. I've always made a point of praising Jena for her accomplishments, but the fact is I wasn't. Instead of praising her for doing good work, I was telling her she was smart, she was strong, she was {insert blank}.
And I got it. Her teacher gets it too. The lead teacher in her class, the one who has over 20 years of teaching experience, gets it. When the kids are learning a new task, she tells them they are connecting their neurons. I've heard it with my own ears.
"Connect your neurons!" she'll say, encouraging them to keep at it until they get it.
She gets it.
And so I'm working not to praise Jena less, necessarily, but to change the way I praise her.
When she gets all her math problems correct, instead of saying "Great job! You're so smart." I now say something like "Great job! I'm proud of you for working hard to learn your math!"
When she pulls herself up, using all her arm strength, instead of saying "You're so strong!" I say something like "Look at you! You kept trying until you got it! Awesome!"
And whatever it is, if we have a few moments for a longer talk, I'll throw in something reminding her of she couldn't do it previously, and how proud I am of her for keeping at it, and now just look at her, she's doing it.
I think sometimes we all fall into this pattern of saying things without really thinking of the message we're sending. It's something I've definitely been more cognizent of since reading the article, and something I'm working toward changing.
As always, thanks for checking in!
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
Doing Right By Jena
There have been so many times that I've wanted to write this post, but have stopped. Why? Because it feels like a taboo topic to me.
It feels like if I write about it, my concerns, our struggles as parents to guide Jena in this area, that I will offend someone, just for sharing this part of our journey.
I've read other blogs & message boards where just sharing your child's current progress, or even your struggles, in this are, is viewed as "bragging", when the other moms were really just trying to share what's going on in their lives.
And that's it, isn't it? The fact is that it is part of our life, part of our journey. The older Jena gets, the more frequently this topic dominates mine & Jason's conversations about how to parent Jena, how to progress, what the next step is.
The older she gets, the more worried I am that we will fail her somehow in this area, that we will make the wrong decision, that we will hold her back instead of guiding her forward.
And so I've decided to share this part of our parenting journey, because it's there, staring me in the face on a near-daily basis. And hopefully my dear readers will get that I'm not bragging, I'm worried. That Jason & I are doing our best to do right by our child, and this is just one part of that effort.
So, here goes.
My daughter is smart.
Seriously. She is incrediblyintelligent. Freakin' crazy over-the-moon smart.
So smart we don't know what to do with it.
Her preschool utilizes DECA assessments to rate how they are progressing. While in motor skills & social development she has solidly maintained scores at her age level or slightly below, in academic areas she regularly tests at years above her age.
Years. Plural.
Her school is finishing up the latest round of assessments, so we should know her most recent progress in the next few weeks.
Last year (at age 3 1/2) her preschool teachers contended that she was 90% ready for Kindergarten. The 10% that she needed to develop being her social skills.
She will start Kindergarten thiscoming Autumn, two months shy of her 5th birthday, at her preschool. This is technically starting her early. Here in Kentucky she misses the deadline by less than 10 days (ie. she "should" wait another year to start Kindergarten). But we are blessed in that her incredible, private, Montessori preschool continues thru Kindergarten and will progress her based on her abilities, not an arbitrary number.
When it comes to looking ahead to the days she will enter the traditional public school system (as that is still currently the plan), Jason & I have seriously discussed things like:
- skipping a(nother) grade,
- the school's gifted program,
- supplementing her instruction with homeschool activities, and yes, even
- pulling her out altogether and homeschooling her.
I don't know how to navigate this area. I feel woefully unable to make the "right" decision. What do you do, what decisions do you make when your child appears to be progressing years ahead of her peers academically, but lags behind them socially? How do you continue to encourage her intellectual development without pushing her into social situations that she's not ready to handle?
I don't have the answers. I so wish I did. Some times I think maybe this is one of those areas in which there is no "right" answer, that whatever we decide will have it's good points and it's struggles, and she'll just turn out fine in the end no matter what we do.
But as a parent, no matter what the topic, that's not always a strong comfort. Because we all want to do what is best for our child, we want to make the right decisions, give our children the best opportunities to succeed in this little game we call Life. We all stress and worry and contemplate outcomes for one thing or another.
Well, right now, this is our thing.
So that's where we are in a nutshell. As always, thanks for checking in.
It feels like if I write about it, my concerns, our struggles as parents to guide Jena in this area, that I will offend someone, just for sharing this part of our journey.
I've read other blogs & message boards where just sharing your child's current progress, or even your struggles, in this are, is viewed as "bragging", when the other moms were really just trying to share what's going on in their lives.
And that's it, isn't it? The fact is that it is part of our life, part of our journey. The older Jena gets, the more frequently this topic dominates mine & Jason's conversations about how to parent Jena, how to progress, what the next step is.
The older she gets, the more worried I am that we will fail her somehow in this area, that we will make the wrong decision, that we will hold her back instead of guiding her forward.
And so I've decided to share this part of our parenting journey, because it's there, staring me in the face on a near-daily basis. And hopefully my dear readers will get that I'm not bragging, I'm worried. That Jason & I are doing our best to do right by our child, and this is just one part of that effort.
So, here goes.
My daughter is smart.
Seriously. She is incrediblyintelligent. Freakin' crazy over-the-moon smart.
So smart we don't know what to do with it.
Her preschool utilizes DECA assessments to rate how they are progressing. While in motor skills & social development she has solidly maintained scores at her age level or slightly below, in academic areas she regularly tests at years above her age.
Years. Plural.
Her school is finishing up the latest round of assessments, so we should know her most recent progress in the next few weeks.
Last year (at age 3 1/2) her preschool teachers contended that she was 90% ready for Kindergarten. The 10% that she needed to develop being her social skills.
She will start Kindergarten thiscoming Autumn, two months shy of her 5th birthday, at her preschool. This is technically starting her early. Here in Kentucky she misses the deadline by less than 10 days (ie. she "should" wait another year to start Kindergarten). But we are blessed in that her incredible, private, Montessori preschool continues thru Kindergarten and will progress her based on her abilities, not an arbitrary number.
When it comes to looking ahead to the days she will enter the traditional public school system (as that is still currently the plan), Jason & I have seriously discussed things like:
- skipping a(nother) grade,
- the school's gifted program,
- supplementing her instruction with homeschool activities, and yes, even
- pulling her out altogether and homeschooling her.
I don't know how to navigate this area. I feel woefully unable to make the "right" decision. What do you do, what decisions do you make when your child appears to be progressing years ahead of her peers academically, but lags behind them socially? How do you continue to encourage her intellectual development without pushing her into social situations that she's not ready to handle?
I don't have the answers. I so wish I did. Some times I think maybe this is one of those areas in which there is no "right" answer, that whatever we decide will have it's good points and it's struggles, and she'll just turn out fine in the end no matter what we do.
But as a parent, no matter what the topic, that's not always a strong comfort. Because we all want to do what is best for our child, we want to make the right decisions, give our children the best opportunities to succeed in this little game we call Life. We all stress and worry and contemplate outcomes for one thing or another.
Well, right now, this is our thing.
So that's where we are in a nutshell. As always, thanks for checking in.
Sunday, April 28, 2013
It will all work out in the end
"It is not a parent's job to entertain their child" -- Susan Yates
Between that quote, circulating on both Facebook and Pinterest, and this article, which states that "...parents are spending more time with their kids than they did two decades ago." this idea has been on my mind a lot lately.
Truthfully, it's something I struggle with. I think (for me) a lot of it stems from working mom guilt. I feel like I miss so much of Jena's time, that I want to be truly present with her at all times. Really be there, quality time, connecting on her level.
And my housework suffers, and meal preparation suffers, and time with my spouse is lost, and time to pursue my own interest is gone.
But I've always been okay with that.
And still am, to a point.
But lately I've been thinking more and more about whether or not this is best for Jena. Just because she's happier, just because I'm at peace with it, doesn't necessarily mean it is what is in her best interests.
And so I've been trying to redirect some of my time, some of my attention, with the thought that maybe on occasion it's good, not bad, for me to tell her 'no, I can't, I'm busy'. Maybe it's okay for me to do the dishes while she's still awake. Maybe it's good for her to see me working around the house, instead of just waking up to chores being done.
Now, this isn't to say I've never done any work with her around. She's certainly helped me fold clothes, do the dishes, put in the laundry, feed the pets, sweep the floors, etc, etc, etc. in the past. But it's never been my priority. I always put my priority on focusing on her and what she wants to do.
And so now I'm working to shift that focus. To appease my working mom's guilt by telling myself that it really is best for her to see me focus on these other items, even if she's begging me to play. At least once in a while.
Similarly, Jason & I have done a pretty good job of keeping date nights and us-only trips since she was born, but when we're together as a family, the focus is almost exclusively on her, not each other. And maybe that needs to start shifting as well.
And me. My interests. I tried to participate in some of "my" activities after Jena was born, but found it to be too much, overwhelming. And so I still find myself anxious at the thought, but I've scheduled a couple of girls' days out with friends, and I'm seriously thinking about joining a community band in the near future. Because I've been really missing performing lately. There's an ache inside me that misses the music. And so maybe it's time that I make time for that part of me. And yes, I do think it would be good for my daughter to see me perform, to see that Mommy can do other things besides mothering and housework.
It's all a balancing act. One that changes and shifts, morphs along with the passing of time. Maybe I feel that I can refocus because Jena is older. Or maybe it's because my years long struggle with depression & anxiety were clouding my focus before. Or maybe it's because I'm becoming more experienced as a parent.
I suppose the reason doesn't really matter. Only the outcome. And so I shift again. Refocus. Juggle. And see where the balls fall, where things work, where adjustment is needed. And then shift again.
All the while trusting that it will all work out in the end.
Between that quote, circulating on both Facebook and Pinterest, and this article, which states that "...parents are spending more time with their kids than they did two decades ago." this idea has been on my mind a lot lately.
Truthfully, it's something I struggle with. I think (for me) a lot of it stems from working mom guilt. I feel like I miss so much of Jena's time, that I want to be truly present with her at all times. Really be there, quality time, connecting on her level.
And my housework suffers, and meal preparation suffers, and time with my spouse is lost, and time to pursue my own interest is gone.
But I've always been okay with that.
And still am, to a point.
But lately I've been thinking more and more about whether or not this is best for Jena. Just because she's happier, just because I'm at peace with it, doesn't necessarily mean it is what is in her best interests.
And so I've been trying to redirect some of my time, some of my attention, with the thought that maybe on occasion it's good, not bad, for me to tell her 'no, I can't, I'm busy'. Maybe it's okay for me to do the dishes while she's still awake. Maybe it's good for her to see me working around the house, instead of just waking up to chores being done.
Now, this isn't to say I've never done any work with her around. She's certainly helped me fold clothes, do the dishes, put in the laundry, feed the pets, sweep the floors, etc, etc, etc. in the past. But it's never been my priority. I always put my priority on focusing on her and what she wants to do.
And so now I'm working to shift that focus. To appease my working mom's guilt by telling myself that it really is best for her to see me focus on these other items, even if she's begging me to play. At least once in a while.
Similarly, Jason & I have done a pretty good job of keeping date nights and us-only trips since she was born, but when we're together as a family, the focus is almost exclusively on her, not each other. And maybe that needs to start shifting as well.
And me. My interests. I tried to participate in some of "my" activities after Jena was born, but found it to be too much, overwhelming. And so I still find myself anxious at the thought, but I've scheduled a couple of girls' days out with friends, and I'm seriously thinking about joining a community band in the near future. Because I've been really missing performing lately. There's an ache inside me that misses the music. And so maybe it's time that I make time for that part of me. And yes, I do think it would be good for my daughter to see me perform, to see that Mommy can do other things besides mothering and housework.
It's all a balancing act. One that changes and shifts, morphs along with the passing of time. Maybe I feel that I can refocus because Jena is older. Or maybe it's because my years long struggle with depression & anxiety were clouding my focus before. Or maybe it's because I'm becoming more experienced as a parent.
I suppose the reason doesn't really matter. Only the outcome. And so I shift again. Refocus. Juggle. And see where the balls fall, where things work, where adjustment is needed. And then shift again.
All the while trusting that it will all work out in the end.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
