Queen of the World

 "Far more than you may realize, your experiences, your world, and even your self are the creations of what you focus on." Winifred Gallagher

Friday Peanut and I decided to climb Stone Mountain.

Stone Mountain rises 825 feet from the ground (1,686 feet from sea level) and the walking trail up the mountain is a steep one mile up (and another mile down).

It was 32 degrees when we left the bottom of the mountain headed up.

Peanut was SO excited. She was skipping on the rocks, joyfully talking....."Mama can you believe I'm going to climb a mountain?"

Having done this several times with the big kids, I had waited until I was sure Peanut was not going to NEED to be carried on either leg of this trip.

Somewhere, about 1/3 of the way of the up, Peanut starts to complain.

"My legs are tired."

"It's cold."

I reminded her that when its cold you have to be mindful of your breathing.

Deep smell the flower breaths in.

Long blow out the candle breaths out.

We practiced. We hiked.

We got about halfway and Peanut wasn't sure she'd finish.

I'm a firm believer in teaching kids they can do hard things.

I'm also a firm advocate of letting kids chose the hard thing.

Peanut and I paused at the pavilion and we chatted.

I asked her "Does your mind think you can't do it or your tummy?"

We've had long talks about the value of listening to her gut (which she calls her tummy). She knows what it feels like when something feels wrong and her tummy hurts.

We never go against the gut the feeling. It's vitally important to me that she learn to lean into that, to know it, to recognize what she is and is not comfortable with.

She decided her tummy felt fine with going up the mountain but her brain was worried about how high up we were.

We talked about how we can't let our worried brains be in charge.

We have to let our gut lead us.

If we let our worried brain that sees the tops of trees way down below, or the steep summit up ahead, lead us - we'd miss out on so many of life's wonderful opportunities.

We can do hard things.

We can climb mountains.

Ultimately though - I told Peanut it was her choice. It was HER mountain to climb or not climb.

She said "I REALLY want to stand on the top and yell "I'm the QUEEN of the world" ".

Peanut and I picked ourselves up and we made it to the top of that mountain.

Mama Warriors, it's so important that we coach our kids in how to do hard things without making them.

It's not a win for them if we say "You ARE doing this hard thing."

It's win if they CHOSE to do the hard thing because then they know the beauty of being the queen of the world.

Hebrews 11

 "If you remember that God promised we would be pilgrims and this world may feel more like a desert or even a prison, you might find your life surprisingly happy. Faith in Jesus does not guarantee that everything will go our way. Look at Hebrews 11. Abel had faith and he died. Enoch had faith and he did not die. Noah had faith and everyone else died. So just having faith does not guarantee your life - or the lives of those around you - will be all candy canes and lollipops. Life isn't always fun, and we shouldn't expect it to be."

Yesterday we took Tkill Academy on the road. Peanut loves science and we spent the morning climbing a very large igneous rock and learning all about its history.

I spent my teen years working at Stone Mountain Park. It was my first W-2 paying job.

High school really wasn't my game and that job was the first time I found my people. I spent countless hours exploring every inch of that park with new friends that first summer.

When we left the park, I took Peanut on a drive by of where I grew up. The two different houses I lived in. The spot where I learned to shoot baskets to champion a game of PIG. The (now leveled) grocery store parking lot where I rode my first dirt bike. The convivence store where I walked to buy the snacks my mother wouldn't. The house where I watched the Challenger launch on a school snow day. The house where I first met SD. The field where I played in the snow during the blizzard of 93.

All these memories are tied to a neighborhood surrounding one address.

2939 Major Court

I still remember that address.

As I drove down the street, I told Peanut about how I grew up on the sewer just outside of that house.

I was raised in a 1980s "play outside until the streetlights came on" kind of street.

I knew the stories of the insides of every house on that street.

I played inside and outside of all those houses just as much as I did my own.

I was thinking yesterday as I was giving Peanut a very G rated glimpse into my childhood - how inside every house on my street was a messy life.

There was no social media or cell phones or cameras in your pocket back then. We floated in/out of each other's houses and life was often not hidden.

In hindsight, it was really a gift to me. It would be years before I knew what was and was not a healthy home life.

Everybody on my street had a different kind of mess than mine but it was all a mess. It was the norm.

My own kids have grown up in an age of illusion.

Where friends use filters to post pictures of themselves. Where everyone always looks like their best.

Where people share the highlight reel - the fancy dinners out, the big vacations, the elaborate gifts. Where everyone always seems happy.

The norm does not appear to be messy.

I've tried to gift them the reality of life.

Love is messy. People argue. They communicate. They work through it. That's normal.

Parenting is a circus where often you want someone else to be in charge of the monkeys. You do your best with what you know. You apologize when necessary. You repair. That's normal.

Life is expensive. You budget. You say yes to some things, no to others. You pay your house bill first. Always. You know the price of milk, gallon of gas, you contribute. That's normal.

Mama Warriors, I listened to a podcast recently where the author really cautioned that we've become a society that prepares the road for the child rather than the child for the road.

She talked about how when we do something for our child that they could do for themselves we send the message that they are not capable.

The more times we can let our kids struggle through a task SOLO and feel that sense of accomplishment on their own - the better at the game of life they will be.

The more we talk through the realities of struggle, challenges the more we gift our kids skills to navigate them.

We have to gift our kids the Hebrews 11 version of the truth.

Life is messy.

Sky is Falling

 "God is not a magic 8 ball we shake up and peer into whenever we have a decision to make. He is a good God who gives us brains, shows us the way of obedience, and invites us to take risks for him."

Last week on the way home from watching Xman play basketball, my phone rings.

"Mom something just fell from the sky, hit my car, and busted my whole windshield."

After making sure he was okay, and thinking a few Chicken Little jokes to myself, we decided that he would be able to get the car home (just a few miles) and we'd evaluate from there.

He followed me home and just as I'm about to pull into the neighborhood, a deer runs right in front of my car.

On the two blocks from the entrance to my neighborhood into my house, I had a few choice words with God.

We've had a hard week.

This particular kid has had enough challenges for one week.

We were DONE.

And now the sky is falling on him?

Just the day before he and I had stood in front of a professional who didn't believe he was telling the truth because some data said otherwise.

I believed him.

She believed the data.

Run the data again I insisted.

The sky continued to fall on this kid.

We were, again, down a car and having to shuffle all the people all the places.

I prayed hard Thursday night and Friday morning for this kid to just get a glimpse of God at work.

To be reminded God is good.

To be reminded God is good to him.

To be reminded God is good at being God.

Just a glimpse.

As he and I wrestled with all the pieces of the sky falling over the course of more than a week, we talked about how others don't know your sky is falling.

We wish others treated us with some grace and space but they only think of their own sky.

Even adults.

Mama Warriors, what if we approached everyone like a piece, or two or three, of their sky was falling?

What if offered grace and space for mistakes, for imperfect moments, for not their best?

Or what if we took time to sit with people before we jumped to conclusions, made rude comments or put what we think above the people who stand in front of us?

What if we became people who made space for people first?

Septic Tank Life

 "The Grass Is Always Greener over the Septic Tank" (Erma Bombeck)

Mid 20s me knew nothing about the difference between living on sewer and having a septic tank.

Late 40s me can draw you a diagram of a septic tank, explain your drain lines, find your overflow pipe and teach you the ways of rain and saturated fields.

This last big rain, followed by the white stuff that fell, has my ground fully saturated. I knew we could continue to baby our lines/field/tank or we could just bite the bullet and have it pumped.

If your tank is the right size for your family, if your yard has good drainage, if you follow ALL the septic tank friendly products rules, if you never put grease down your drain and so on - you would never need to pump your tank.

Your septic tank is designed to balance what comes in and what goes out.

We have 4 adults and one kid (plus one dog and one fish) living on a 1,000 gallon tank designed for 2 adults and maybe two not water hogging kids.

We have a back yard that slopes downward to our tank (proof that ALL professions should know a little math). A tank that is not buried. And a back yard that holds water.

When Isaac showed up yesterday and opened our tank, it was overflowing.

Isaac said to me "This should be backed up into your house."

Well Isaac........I knew you were coming today. So I've used more water today than I typically do in a week if the yard is wet. I knew the tank wouldn't hold all the laundry, all the dishes, all the bathing and flushing but I did it anyway. Because I knew you were coming.

We both laughed and he got busy.

I told Isaac that mid 20s me should have chosen a sewer life.

He said he should have too and he's in the business.

The thing is when you live on a septic tank you are responsible for your own crap.

Every single drop of water, sewage, or other that leaves your house is YOUR problem.

I was thinking yesterday as Isaac and I were sharing our hard times standing over my full tank, we are a people living in a septic tank world who think we live on sewer.

We are responsible for what we spew.

We are responsible for the rude interaction with the store cashier. We are responsible for the damage it does to him/her.

We are responsible for making sure our kids walk the natural consequences of life. If we rescue them from that, we are responsible for the humans it makes them.

We are responsible for our inaction when we see wrong. If we know about it, its ours.

Mama Warriors, I desperately want to live a sewer life. I want to wash all I want, flush anything. I'd LOVE a garbage disposal.

That's not the reality.

Life is very much a septic tank experience.

You are responsible for your actions AND your inaction.

Let's be people today who grow the greenest grass because we reap what we sow - good or bad.

Falling Flakes

 "Does what moves the heart of God move me to action?"

Peanut wanted it to snow something fierce this week. She prayed for snow. She prayed for snow for Mo, who had never seen snow. She was just sure he was going to love it.

Sunday I kept watching out the window. Aware that snow was falling in towns around ours. Hoping.

I'm thankful for the mental picture I have of Peanut's face when she looked outside the first time and saw white stuff falling from the sky.

She rushed to bundle up and couldn't wait to get outside so Mo could experience his first snow.

I don't know about you, but while the stuff falling was gorgeous, the ground was not here. My yard looked more like a pig's mud pen than a winter wonderland. As it fell, it melted into the already saturated yard.

There were more mud puddles than snowman building materials.

Peanut was oblivious. She managed to make a snowman without snow ever accumulating on our yard.

As we sat with hot cocoa waiting on our ridiculously useless Old Navy gloves to dry , I kept sneaking glances at the pure joy on her face.

Even though the snow didn't look like she thought it might, even though it wasn't a pretty winter wonderland, she was still able to feel deep joy at the blessing the flakes falling provided.

I have a lot to learn from her.

This week feels heavy here. Appointments with uncertain news. Septic tanks that have had enough of all this rain. Teenagers trying to get back into the swing of a new semester. Navigating a prayer list full of covid. Again.

My ground is a muddy mess.

BUT, I forget to look up for the flakes falling.

The 8 year old excited about a virtual chat with a friend. The edge of a new puzzle almost finished. A car loaded with donations because the decluttering project is making progress. A new niece I can't wait to love on.

Mama Warriors, the ground is muddy.

But flakes are always falling.

Look up.

Fulfilled

 "If you don't have the strength, energy or will to cling to God, ask God to cling to you. Say, "It's one of those days God. The burden is on you, so hang on to me." A prayer is more than words. It's a stance you take, a position you claim.".

Over the Christmas break, SD and I attended his work Christmas party.

To be honest, I was a little nervous about meeting all of his work colleagues.

What would I talk about?

I do, in fact, own not one, but two, degrees in education.

While I do hold a part time position as an "educational consultant" in a variety of forms, I spend the majority of my time parenting and educating our own children.

I just finished reading this book about how often mothers lose their "unicorn space" as their "free time" becomes filled with wife/mother/daughter duties over the years.

The unicorn space is what fulfills you. What feeds your soul. What stimulates your mind. What challenges your body.

It's what makes YOU uniquely YOU and fulfilled.

Your unicorn space is what the host of Jeopardy wants to know about in that one thing you get to share after the first commercial break.

Your unicorn space is what makes you interesting at a party.

In route to the party, I was thinking - oh my gosh, what is my unicorn space?

I began to panic that my unicorn space is dismal and nearly non existent.

SD's work family are super nice people. I spent the evening learning about their unicorn space. The gentleman who has taught in countries all over the world whose accent alone makes a story interesting. The family with the farm who are finally empty nesters and their stories of adventures over the years. The nearly retired individual with grand travel plans in the books.

I realized over the course of the night that a fulfilled life is what fills your unicorn space.

I wanted to choose unicorn for my word for 2022 but instead chose "fulfilled."

For 2022, I want to rethink the way I talk to myself.

What we water grows, right?

I want to start watering statements that fulfill me.

Mama Warriors, maybe you too, feel like your unicorn space is just that - some magical, made up thing.

I challenge you to rediscover that which fulfills you.

Make space and time for your heart (connections), head (learning), higher (spiritual growth), health (physical), and hands (creative).

45 Blessed is she who has believed that the Lord would fulfill his promises to her!” Luke 1:45