Fence Builders

 "There was this study done, where if you put kids in a field and there's a fence around the field, they will sit on the perimeter of the field by the fence.

If you put kids in a field and there's no fence, they'll huddle up together in the field.

Our job (as moms) is to be the fence so that they feel safe around the perimeter. " (Jennifer Garner)

Xman had to leave for work at 8:00 this morning. He mentioned last night he wanted to get up around 6:30 so he had time to drink coffee, shower and not be rushed.

I got up this morning to make the coffee and soak up that time with him before he left.

Because I know, if I'm up, he'll sit with me while he drinks that cup of coffee and he'll sort of ramble about this or that.

My parenting role in these teen years seems to be a lot of fence providing.

Deciding where he can and can't drive himself, what time he has to be home, what the limits are, what to say no to, and equally important as to what to say yes to.

Relying on his roots as he very much wants to spread his wings.

Trusting the seeds we've planted.

I was listening to this podcase where Jennifer Garner was sharing about her new movie.

She mentioned that originally the script was written where the teenagers were snarky and rude. She said she shared that it hasn't at all been her experience. Her kids are great. Their friends are lovely.

The heart break in parenting is that they are lovely and they grow up.

They are lovely people who you want to spend time with, and they grow up.

So in this season, I get up on the Saturday mornings and I make the coffee.

I linger. I wait for him to wake up.

And I soak up the loveliness before he remembers he's a busy a teenager with places to go. Other people to hang out with.

It's not always sunshine and rainbows.

Being the fence to someone who doesn't think they need a fence is an exhausting job.

And often hearbreaking because teenagers, like all humans, don't always think of the hurtfulness of words said in a moment of frustration.

They have no appreciation for the fence builders.

I'll confess. Sometimes it's hard to be the grown up and remember that underneath what at first glance seems like a self absorbed gentle giant, there is a kind and generous kid who is learning how to respond rather than react.

Much like his mother has been his entire life.

Mama Warriors, each school year I set a personal goal for me. This year I chose

"Relationship over tasks"

It's been challenging for me to allow many tasks to not be done in the timely manner I would have preferred, or maybe not even to the level of quality that I would like. Or to shift my focus on the time I spend with the kids from "getting stuff done" to "just being."

I've chosen to focus on the relationship over the task.

Not that the tasks never have to be done, or that we accept less than our kids best, just that in each moment I choose the relationship before the task.

I choose to focus on how lovely they are to be around.

Build the fences but then don't forget to hang out there.

Remember to just be with your kids.

Remember how lovely they are to be around.

Make the coffee.

Turtle and the Egg

 "Don't be so focused on getting out of difficult circumstances that you don't get anything out of them."

On the same day we found the bird's nest, this turtle showed up in our yard.

It's like the wild kingdom around here between the possums, the birds, the deer and the turtles.

Peanut is my intense animal lover and she couldn't have been more excited.

Peanut and I watched the turtle. We aren't sure where he came from but we first spotted him on our driveway. He made it across and into the yard and then he lingered there. Maundy Thursday.

Good Friday and the Silent Saturday, the turtle moved but not much and not far.

The bird laid one egg Friday and one egg Saturday.

Easter Sunday the bird laid her third egg, and the turtle died.

If you spend Lent praying to God to understand the chaos, you just might end up with life and death in your yard on Easter Sunday.

I spent Lent having trouble finding my footing.

Reading about justice and mercy.

Praying about my home, my community, my world.

We celebrated the new egg in the nest.

We said a final goodbye to the turtle and buried him.

I think if we lean in to our life, we will find there aren't many coicidences.

I clearly got the message.

There will always be grief, sadness, struggle.

There will always be joy, happiness, celebrations.

They co-exist every single day.

Life is not one OR the other.

Life is one WITH the other.

A full life is full of both grief and joy.

Mama Warriors, Easter is always this beautiful story to me of how there is no joy without grief.

There is no Resurrection without the cross.

There is no joy without the tomb.

But we tend to hunt for the eggs, sing the hymns loudly and then by Monday we've forgotten about the co-existence of the turtle and the eggs.

Let's be people who carry both Good Friday and Easter Sunday with us all year long.

We have to be people who can mourn the turtle AND celebrate the egg.

Let's be people who recognize the grief AND the joy.

Bad Pants

 "Isn't it amazing what we will do at our own expense? I've decided that even if I have to wear something with a stretch waistband the rest of my life, I'm not going to demean myself by wearing clothes that hurt me....

No more bad pants.

One of the ways we punish ourselves for not being more or better or thinner or stronger is by trying to squeeze ourselves - force ourselves, even - into all kinds of ill fitting relationships. With other people, with ourselves, with our pants."

Leana Tankersley

Peanut is attending horse camp this week for the first time. She's been "nervacited" - that mix of nervous and excited.

She's had this great opportunity to meet new kids, play outdoors, and learn to ride a horse.

When I picked her up today, she was playing a game of Truth or Dare with a group of kids who were a smidge older than her.

Peanut has never played Truth or Dare before and my Mama heart did this little jump when I heard the girl daring her to do something that I knew Peanut wouldn't want to do.

I watched her face as she tried to process her options. As she questioned the little girl "Do this?"

I scooped her up, ended the game, and brought her home.

Where I'd honestly love to keep her. Forever.

With no outside influences. No kids that say words we don't say. No exposure to things that aren't age appropriate.

However, that's not what is best for Peanut.

I need to teach Peanut to know what is right for her deep in her soul.

I need to encourage her to choose that.

Be true to herself.

Speak up.

Truth or dare requires a level of trust. We don't owe our truths to everyone.

I want Peanut to know you don't have to wear bad pants.

At horse camp, there is a pregnant horse.

I stood there watching her today, obviously uncomfortable and I think probably hot. I was hot.

I thought about how motherhood changes you.

How you have to find the strength to wear the pants with stretch waist bands IF that's what your body, soul, mind need. Even if everyone else wears skinny jeans.

How you have to find the people that are worth playing truth or dare with.

Mama Warriors, we spend too much our time wearing bad pants.

Sticking with clothes, relationships and spaces that aren't a good fit for us.

Holding on too long.

Playing truth or dare with people who haven't earned the right to hear our truths.

Let the bad pants go.

Set them free.

Make space for better ones.

Unexpected

 "Am I allowing light to do what light does best - to warm, fill and lift?

Am I allowing the darkness to do what darkness does best - cover, protect, and grow?

God declares his glory in the light, BUT first he forms new life in the dark, bringing it to the surface in his own time and in his own way."

Our morning got off to a VERY rocky start.

I woke long before Peanut and decided to go ahead and get up, make tea, and sit for a bit.

Peanut woke early, went looking for me in my bed, and when she didn't find me there, she went into full meltdown mode.

You see, every holiday, I lay in my bed until she wakes up. I'm always up before her. But the coming into the living room together is a tradition.

She kept crying repeating "I just want family Easter back."

Peanut is not a fan of the unexpected.

I've been thinking today about how for some Easter is the story of the unexpected.

Finding an empty tomb.

Seeing a crucified Jesus very much alive.

Peanut and I went for a walk to regroup this morning. Fresh air and a change of scenery are good for the soul.

On our walk we saw an elderly gentleman neighbor of ours standing by his car.

He wore his best suspenders, obviously dressed for Easter.

He stood by the car, waiting. Alone.

I watched him patiently wait as I made several laps around his street.

He never looked upset.

He never went back inside, or yelled, or even sat down in one of the rocking chairs nearby.

You see, he was waiting on a woman. (don't you now feel like singing?)

He knew she was coming.

When the time was right.

It wasn't unexpected to him when she later showed up.

She said she was coming, and while it wasn't in his timing, she came.

“Jesus said to them, ‘The Son of Man is about to be delivered into the hands of men, and they will kill him, and he will be raised on the third day’” (vv. 22–23).

- Matthew 17:22–23

The Ressurection was unexpected for some but it shouldn't have been.

He said He would be raised on the 3rd day.

Yet so few were standing by the tomb waiting patiently?

So many were suprised upon seeing him.

I wonder how often I place things in the unexpected category when really they are expected?

This Lenten season I've felt this sense of heaviness, darkness.

I began to wonder as I watched our elderly neighbor wait this morning, have I been thankful for the darkness?

For the covering, for the protecting God has done for me?

Am I growing in this season of darkness?

Have I been patient in the wait?

Have I been expecting him to show up?

Or will it be unexpected when it does happen?

Mama Warriors, on this beautiful Easter day, I encourage you to step outside in the light and take a deep breath.

Let His light warm you, fill you and lift you.

Reflect

 "There is no room for moderation in the Resurrection story. Either it happened or it didn't. Of Jesus you can either say He is of no value or He is of ultimate value. You can not say He is of SOME value."

This week I began to gather together our Easter activity options and plan to spread them out over Easter weekend. I searched my box for an egg dye kit.

I always buy an egg dye kit the week after Easter when they are like 15 cents and then just store it with our Easter decorations.

I remembered that we didn't go out to the store last spring.

There was no Easter candy clearance shopping, no 15 cent egg dye kit purchasing.

A year in, I'm still not making unplanned or extra trips to the store.

While my facebook feed shows me that most have moved on from the concerns of COVID, we have not.

Sweet Daddy has had an EKG, a CT scan, and still naps when he's home more often than not. He's on medications he wasn't on before December. He has some side effects they are working to get under control. Still.

Covid is not done with us.

At least every few days I grab my phone to text my friend a sarcastic parenting funny and I remember that she's no longer here. I get teary every time.

Covid is not done with us.

Daily I check in with others whom COVID is not done with either.

I've sat a few times today in attempt to make words from my chaotic feelings and keep coming back to silence.

Which seems fitting for that silent day between Friday and Sunday.

I know many have rushed to Easter morning.

Me, I'm having trouble moving past Good Friday.

I'm stuck on that day of rest before the good comes.

In the still and the silence.

I've been reading this book on decision making (because rather make any of the hard decisions I need to make, I prefer to read about how one makes decisions). The book talks a lot about reflecting.

Make a choice for now, but circle back down the road. Did that provide growth? What did you learn? How can you use that moving forward?

I've been reflecting over this silent year. This year of the wait.

I've learned that I'm okay with being still. In many ways the pandemic slowed my life in the same way my gastro journey did. This time, I knew to lean in. Let it come.

I've learned kids are resiliant. For good or bad, Peanut's life has not encountered significant change since the pandemic.

We get outside a lot. We read books. We craft, we create. We sit and watch the birds. We explore, we learn.

We make conscious decisions about how we use our time. Our time does not use us.

I've learned that as a family we require margin in our calendar. Even the teenager needs to be told "no" sometimes so he's forced to stay home, be still, rest.

I've learned our communication skills need work. That people who spend a lot of time together don't necessarily know each other well. That we need to think about our love languages, our boundaries and take a step back before we respond.

I've learned our community has a long way to go on having healthy conversations. On listening to one another. Respecting one another. Having empathy for one another. That we struggle with saying "It's okay for you to make different choices than me."

I've learned we are healthier the more we sleep, the more we eat at home, the more we linger.

Maybe most importantly, I've learned that to be confident in our choices.

I can't think of a time before when our personal choices were this criticized by our family, friends and our community.

As we read the Easter story this week, I was most struck by Jesus dining with Judas.

Judas asks "Will it be me that betrays you?"

Jesus firmly says "Yes it will be you."

And then EATS DINNER WITH HIM.

That's a level of love that it is hard to fathom.

If we are being honest, I often struggle with eating dinner with a child who has been rude to me but I gave birth to them and I love them. I still don't want to share pizza with them that day.

There have been things said to us over this last year I'm not sure I'll get past. My own Judas betrayal moments. I'm not feeling like having dinner with those folks.

Mama Warriors, on this Silent Saturday, as Jesus rested, I encourage you to take a moment to rest.

Sit and reflect a bit on the last week, the Lenten season, or even the last year.

What is God teaching you?

Are you growing?

Don't rush to Easter morning without doing the hard work of the silent day in between.

Fancy

 Sue Heck: Okay, as I'm sure you know, it's Mom and Dad's anniversary coming up. It's their 20th! So what are we going to do for them?

Axl Heck: We lit up their lives every day. What more do they want?

(The Middle)

Peanut has spent the last week trying to "whisper" to her siblings. She desperately wanted to create an anniversary surprise for her father and I.

I watched her try several times and I watched her siblings ignore her or brush her off. I knew she was up to something.

And as our life goes, it went typical The Middle style.

Neither of her big kids wanted to be part of her plan.

Both think coming up with anniversary plans was our job.

Neither got on board with Peanut's enthusiasm or her grand plan. She knew the Xman likes to cook so she wanted him to make a dinner, "You know like spaghetti!" She knows the Princess loves music so she wanted her to make a play list. Peanut was going to be in charge of setting the table and making it "fancy."

I was teary for her this morning on the drive to school when she said "Mommy I tried but the big kids won't whisper with me. So I'm just going to tell you what I wanted. Then you can picture it."

Peanut is always about everyone else.

She can't fathom that you aren't too.

It would never occur to her that I'm supposed to do something myself for my anniversary.

She knows its our anniversary and therefore just knows in her heart she wants to do something for us.

As I tearfully listened to her on the way to school this morning, I circled back to the story of Jesus washing the disciples feet.

Maundy Thursday.

Our Peanut was born on Maunday Thursday 8 years ago. The word "maundy" in Latin is "command" - it comes from the Last Supper where Jesus commanded us to love and serve one another.

We are called to wash the feet.

We are not above washing the feet.

Washing the feet is not someone else's job.

Once you know about the dirty feet, it's YOUR job.

I think we get really caught up in whose job it is, or more specifically that its not ours, that we miss the opportunities.

We don't feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, clothe the needy, visit the sick.

We don't cook the spaghetti or create the playlist.

Because it's not our "job."

We're too busy being independent goats to remember that we are called to be sheep.

Mama Warriors, Holy Week always gives me all the feels.

I pulled up some pictures of the stations of the cross for Peanut and I to use tomorrow. Each one is so moving.

How do we look at Jesus on the cross (or a visual representation of that) and not feel compelled to love like He does?

So tonight, Peanut and I will set the table.

We'll dust off that bath and body works candle someone gave us in 2001 it seems and find the lighter.

We'll put the nice tablecloth on and "fancy" up the dining room.

Because I want Peanut to always want to serve others.

I want Peanut to know that Jesus would have fancied up the table.

Make time for the whisper conversations this Holy Week.