These are My People

 "We're all Dorothy (Wizard of Oz) in a way , traveling on a journey with those who are beside us, leaving home only to realize all we want to do is find home again."

Peanut is currently fascinated with all things Pokemon. She collects cards, plays the game, watches the show and reads ALL the graphic novels.

I will admit I'm pretty sure all things Pokemon is a foreign language. I only understand about 1/10 of the excitement that spews anytime Peanut talks. But I'm willing to learn a new vocabulary to be a part of her world.

A few months ago I took her for the first time to a Pokemon swap. The event included prizes for cosplay (dressing up as a character) as well opportunities to swap your cards.

She was nervous. At the time she had 12 cards in a zip loc bag that she had bought at the comic book store on a Daddy Daughter date.

The other kids had big binders with organized cards. They had apps that told you the value of a card. They had knowledge that far surpassed ours.

Peanut had this look on her face when she joined them at the table that I recognized.

The look that says "These are my people."

The kid who lead this swap came right over to introduce himself. Told Peanut he definitely wanted to trade with her.

I can assure you this kid did not NEED a card that Peanut had in her Ziploc baggie.

But making her feel WELCOME was more important to him. He sacrificed some card that made her smile.

These are Peanut's people.

People who care about PEOPLE. People who think outside the box. People who are dripping with imagination and curiosity.

Over the last year, Peanut and I have attended countless churches, youth activities, community events, classes and more. I'm desperately trying to help Peanut find her tribe.

This was the first event we attended where a kid made Peanut feel welcome.

Certainly many adults have scooped her up and made her feel loved. But when I pick her up, she's always solo.

Peanut marches to the beat of her very own drummer.

She's this incredible mix of quirky and unique, thoughtful and kind, smart and imaginative. She asks big questions. She loves big.

As I'm helping Peanut navigate the friendship waters I have to constantly remind myself.

It's not my job to make the other kids like her.

It's my job to make sure she knows she is worthy of being liked.

She's enough just as she is.

Fearfully and wonderfully made.

It's my job to be Team Peanut. To walk along side her as she navigates how to make friends and how to be a friend.

I'm thankful for those that SEE Peanut and love her authentically. For the incredible uncle who remembers she loves Pokemon and buys her the essential handbook we take everywhere we go. For the grandmother who eats a happy meal just have the box and cards to give her. And I know they'll travel on with us to the next phase - whatever that may be.

Mama Warriors, as we all haul our kids to countless events and activities - let's always remind them to be the Jesus other kids see.

Be the kid who trades cards with the new kid.

Be the kid who makes sure no one ever sits alone.

Be the kid that SEES everyone.

Let's be people who SEE our own kids and those kids He sprinkles in our path.

Let's be people who meet them where they are and remind them they are loved for who they are.

Let's be people willing to learn a new vocabulary so we can continue to communicate.

Lap Dog Love

 "Trust is a process, not an event." McBride

Monday morning I took Mo Trouble to the vet for his annual physical. I knew it was possible that something was wrong with his ears because he'd been rolling around on my floor trying to scratch them.

Mo has a double ear infection. A combination of debris, yeast and bacteria have bread deep in his little cockapoo ears. Since they hang low like a cocker spaniel, no air floor gets to them. The vet said because of the depth of the ear infection and how inflamed his ears are - we needed to hit with a slow and steady treatment.

For 30 days I'm supposed to do a DAILY ear cleaning treatment.

I don't know if you've ever tried to clean a dog's ears - or maybe your dog is just better behaved than mine, but Mo Trouble is NOT a fan.

5 days in and he now freaks out at the sight of the ear cleaning solution.

I don't know how good we're doing but I've got a spreadsheet chart and I'm committed.

It ideally takes 2-3 of us to pin him down, find his ears underneath all that hair and get drops in. AND then we are supposed to wipe his ears out. Every single time.

He yelps, barks, fights, tries to run away. It's a whole thing.

I'm consistently surprised though because after we release him, he runs around shaking his ears and then always climbs in my lap.

Always.

He somehow forgives me immediately for what he definitely thinks is torture. He somehow knows that I make choices for his own good. He somehow knows I love him.

He loves me.

We knew when we got Mo that his breed tends to attach to one person. We had hoped it would be a kid, but alas since I'm the doer of all the things. It's me.

I'm Mo's person.

When you're someone's person, you give them a lot of grace.

I think as a society we've forgotten that. We've forgotten to assume the best out of our people. We've forgotten to give people grace. To forgive. To love hard.

Instead we resort to this idea of "ghosting" people. Withdrawing from their lives. Giving them the silent treatment. It all feels really childish to me.

Mama Warriors, we are called to LOVE others.

In a way that doesn't always make sense on a tally chart. We give more grace than we get. We show up in the big and the small because it's the right thing to do.

We expect the best out of people.

We love like Jesus. Because we are loved by Jesus.

We climb in their lap even if they keep putting drops in our ears.

Skewed Expectations

 "While we're pursuing perfection, we're missing out on the most precious parts of life: the laughter of silliness, the joy of spontaneity, the lessons found in failure, and the freedom found in grace."

Sweet Daddy teases me that I am *often* plagued by what we call the Normal Rockwell complex. I envision this perfect scenario of a family like I'm June Cleaver in the 1950's, and in reality, I'm really more Frankie Heck in the 2000s. We're hanging on, but man, it's full on crazy circus around here most days. I was given Axl,Sue and Brick instead of Wally and the Beaver.

God's been working on me and in the last few years, I've come to embrace my Frankie Heck qualities. It doesn't matter how many blogs I read, or how many times the Fly Lady tells me to put my shoes on early in the day, our toilet is only going to get cleaned when it's so dirty that I won't use it. People will have clean underwear daily but it may be in a laundry basket, possibly folded. I'm feeding people organic, fresh meat and produce but also a fair share of Little Debbie snacks because I'm not above bribery.

My devotion read this morning challenged me to think about how PRIDE holds us back. We don't want to advertise our weaknesses. We don't want to ask for help. We're always a little bit of that 3 year old "by myself" phase.

The word humility comes from the Latin word "humilitas" which means grounded or low.

When you are humble, you are grounded. Not easily swayed. You know you NEED God. No by myself nonsense for you. You find your worth in God's eyes.

"When pride comes, shame follows.

But wisdom comes to those who are not proud." Proverbs 11:2

Pride comes from fear. Fear of others thinking we aren't what we project ourselves to be.

When we can humble ourselves to acknowledge who we REALLY are, it gives us such freedom.

I'm embracing the mom that I AM. The one God designed me to be. I'm not a crafty, Pinterest worthy home maker. I'm not a time management master. I am the kind of mom who stops to pick the "flowers" and treasures them for days. I am the kind of mom who does the hot dog dance just because I'm asked. I'm the kind of mom who cleans a kid's room for him because I want to bless him. I'm the kind of mom who knows that hot dogs together with laughter is better than a fancy dinner in stress.

The thing about life is that "I can't" is FAR more believably than "I can." I'm choosing to believe that I can be all He has designed me to be WITH Him. IN Him.

Mama warriors, skewed expectations keep us from enjoying our REAL life. Skew is a great math word - Think of two lines, one being the life you are really living. One being the expectations you have for this life. Skew means they never intersect. Never cross.

I encourage you today to CHANGE your expectations for your life. Move that line. Change is not lowering your expectations. It's redefining them. Celebrate who you are, who God made you to be. You are equipped for this calling. You are JUST RIGHT. Believe "I can IN Him."

First published 9/14/2016

Role of a Lifetime

 "There are worse things than being criticized - like being a coward."

Peanut and I often have times where it's just the two of us here. When we aren't schooling or playing, we grab some fuzzy blankets, a yummy snack and we curl up together and watch The Middle.

One of my better parenting moves was introducing her to The Middle.

Last week we watched an episode called The Role of a Lifetime. In the episode, the daughter decides she's tired of being the one the family counts on to create the special events. Which leads to this argument about each person's role in the family.

There is some discussion about how the dad, Mike Heck, "only plugs things in." He's the one who charges the phones, lights the pilot light, scrapes the windshields in the snow. He's the one who does the behind the scenes things.

It's one of the many episodes that always makes me cry. I won't tell you the ending so you can watch.

I was thinking this weekend that I must be our Mike.

I plug in all the things. I'm the one who changes the air filter - and creates the google calendar alert so we know when it needs to be changed. I'm the filler of the ice trays, who doesn't eat the ice. I'm the maker of the beverages, who doesn't drink them. I'm the one who makes sure everyone has the medications refilled and available to take. I make all the appointments and make sure everyone's physicals are done, the teeth are cleaned, the eyes are examined. I fight the insurance companies and follow up on the bills. People wake up to clean clothes, food to eat, and places to go.

20 year old me might be sorely disappointed.

I wanted to change the world. I got my first teaching job and also worked the after school program. I spent my summers working camps in the city. I was going to save the world one teenager at a time.

I was fiercely independent.

I was going to do BIG things.

I wasn't going to plug in all the things for all the people.

I wasn't going to be "support person" - I was going to be THE PERSON.

This morning Peanut and I read this book called Jungle Drums. It's basically about a bunch of animals in Africa (yes, we are still in Africa) who aren't happy with who they are. They *think* they want to be someone else. They want to look like the fancier animals.

It seems even in the animal kingdom, no one wants to be the one who plugs the things in.

But you know what, someone has to plug the things in.

Diligently, consistently, lovingly.

Someone has to be the support person.

People need people to plug in all the things.

Mama Warriors, maybe you sometimes feel like the warthog who just wants to be the zebra with pretty stripes or the giraffe with gorgeous spots. Maybe just once you want to win the Grand parade prize.

Maybe you feel like Mike Heck that you need to defend all you do. Maybe you question whether plugging in all the things is enough to.

I encourage you today that whatever you were called to do - it's enough. It's where you are supposed to be.

You GET to be the one who plugs in all the things.

That's the truth.

You were CHOSEN.

And as you've been plugging in all the things, God has continued to put people in your path for you to support. Because you do it well. You now "plug in" for friends, family, neighbors.

You show up.

You are needed.

You are loving God and loving others.

That's all you were commanded to do.

Published Aug 2020

Teachable Moments

 "Live what we want our children to learn."

That picture is the Xman's schedule. Which is here. In my house. On his desk. The two copies I printed before that have gotten lost between open house and today. We arrived at co-op today and he had no schedule.

I'd like to say when the realization hit that he had no schedule that I responded with loving warmth reassuring him that accidents happen.

Instead I may have asked him how many times I asked him if he was ready? If he had everything? And how many times did he tell me "yes." And was he ready? Did he have EVERYTHING? No.

This morning I finished the book "The Gift of Anger" by Arun Gandhi, the grandchild of Mahatma Gandhi. In it, he talks about a time when he was 16 and his Dad asked him to drop him off for a conference, run some errands, and pick him back up at 5:00. Arun finished his errands early and decided to see a movie. In order to make the 5:00 pick up, he would have to leave the movie early.

He lost track of time, and it was 6:00 when he showed up to pick up his father. His father asked "Why are you so late?" Arun lied. Told his father the car errand took longer than expected. Turns out the mechanic had called his father to let him know the work was done much earlier. Arun's father tells him he knows he lied.

The interesting part of this story to me happens next.

Arun's father says " I'm sorry you lied to me today. I have failed as a parent to give you the confidence and courage to tell the truth. Somewhere I made a mistake. I will take this walk to think of how I could have better taught you to know the importance of telling the truth."

And Arun's father proceeded to walk home.

Six hours.

Arun, couldn't leave the car, but felt such guilt because his father was taking on the burden of his mistake that he drove slowly behind him, following him all the way home.

Six hours.

Arun shares that he has never forgotten that moment. Instead of humiliating him and punishing him, Arun's father makes Arun a partner in the problem and the need to correct it.

I'm going to confess. We are walking some tough parenting here.

Tough.

I've been soaking that story since I read it yesterday.

The thing about parenting is that I can't control the outcome.

For us google calendar, control freaks, that's a little tough.

I can only control ME.

So, during this tough parenting season, I'm going to look into my mirror and my soul and figure out how I could teach them better. Model better.

How I can be BETTER.

I can seek wisdom in my Bible. I can pray for them.

Rather than pointing my finger at the child who's schedule has been forgotten, I can partner with him in identifying the problem and WHY it needs to be corrected.

44 But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, 45 that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. Matthew 5:44 - 45

Mama Warriors, it's with great grace that the Bible tells us we don't get what we deserve.

I think how Arun probably "deserved" to walk home that day.

His father took the burden of the responsibility for the lie from Arun. In one of the greatest "teachable" moments possible.

He chose to look inward and see how he could be better. How he could improve.

I'm a huge fan of holding our kids accountable. HUGE. I'm not at all saying we forgive and forget and let them run wild.

I am sharing from my heart that we should hold ourselves accountable to.

Be the change you want to see in the world - Gandhi says.

I'm sure that applies to parenting - BE the change you want to see in your kids.

All r

Stand Out Summers

 “Kinder than is necessary. Because it's not enough to be kind. One should be kinder than needed.” Wonder

As I began to think about our 5th grade year, I knew I wanted to begin by reading Wonder with Peanut.

For those who haven't read Wonder (you should....) - it's about a 5th grade boy, Auggie, with a facial deformity and his experience in school for the first time.

The story is told from the viewpoint of multiple narrators so you experience each characters thoughts/feelings as they meet/interact with Auggie.

Peanut and I decided to use our "emoji" approach to the book. When we read something sad, we marked that section with a frowning face. When we were surprised, a face with an open mouth. And so on.

Books are a great springboard to discuss hard topics with your kids.

One of the conversations Peanut and I had as we read this book was we looked for characters who were "accepting" versus those who were "affirming."

Accepting characters are ones who were not mean to Auggie BUT they also were not kind to him.

Affirming characters are ones who reached out to Auggie - met him where he was at, and stood there with him.

Accepting people aren't the problem however they are also not the solution.

They are neutral ground.

In the book, Charlotte is accepting of Auggie. She gives him a tour of the school when asked by an adult. She isn't outwardly mean to him.

Many people would consider Charlotte kind. Auggie, and I think Jesus, would not.

Summer is affirming of Auggie. With no prompting, Savannah sits with Auggie purely so he won't be alone at lunch. She takes time to get to know him. She treats him like any other 5th grader - sometimes teasing him, sometimes laughing with him, and always standing up for him.

Summer is kinder than necessary.

I think as a community we lean toward acceptance rather than affirmation.

We aren't the ones who are racist, bigots, homophobic, etc. - we aren't causing the hate.

But we also aren't standing up for those on the receiving end of the hate.

I feel like for all the WWJD bracelets and bumper stickers I still see - that we should be a community in action for affirmation.

We should be stand out Summers in a world of Charlottes.

Mama Warriors, it's not enough to tell our kids not to be mean or ugly to someone who is different from them in any way.

We have to teach them to be kinder than necessary.

If we want to change the world, we have to raise children who let no one eat lunch alone.

Me And Arty

 

"I was terrified because you didn't come with instructions. I thought we were doing okay. I thought we were having fun. Years go by. You get these clues, inklings. Perhaps maybe she thought you didn't do such a good job. And that really hurts. "

It's no secret that it has been a long, hard summer here. 

A time of transition a dear friend calls it. 

Earlier this week, Peanut and I grabbed some snacks, a blanket (because movies call for blankets even though its August in the South and insanely hot), and watched one of our favorites. Parental Guidance. 

For those who haven't seen Parental Guidance, the basic plot is that the grandparents come to stay and babysit the grandchildren while the parents are out of town. The clash between parenting styles and lifestyles makes for good humor but also thoughtful consideration. 

At the end of the movie Arty (Grandpa) is having a tough conversation with his daughter. He says to her

"I was terrified because you didn't come with instructions. I thought we were doing okay. I thought we were having fun. Years go by. You get these clues, inklings. Perhaps maybe she thought you didn't do such a good job. And that really hurts. "

Much like me Arty thought he was doing a good job. 

He was definitely doing better than his father. He made changes based on his own childhood experiences. 

He parented differently. 

And yet, he's still standing in front of his own daughter who until this moment thinks he didn't do a good job. And she's trying to do it differently with her own kids. 

That's what we all do right? 

We take what we know about how we were parented and we keep what we think worked, and we change what we think didn't. 

Much like Arty, I thought I was doing a hell of a lot better than the home I grew up in. I was gifting my kids the things I wanted - the ability to have thoughts, feelings, a say in what happens. Parents who made space for big feelings. Parents who admitted mistakes. 

And much like Arty, I've also stood in my kitchen recently and learned that they don't think I did such a good job. 

And much like Arty, I'm hurt. 

The people who know the most about parenting are always the ones without kids right? 

The challenging thing is that parenting - that's the role I have invested the most in. 

I feel like I've gotten a job review and failed. 

Even better - I'm not done. I have another solid 10 years with the youngest. 

How is it we wake up and we keep doing the thing we thought we were doing well but are now told, um, maybe not? 

People keep telling me to gift them this elusive "time and space." These people that live in my home. 

That's an ambitious request isn't it? 

The idea that we have time? 

As we await news of the arrangements for burial of someone close to us, I'm reminded again that time is not promised. 

I'm also acutely aware that the status of any relationship is not solely in my hands. 

There's a cost to growth. The stretching. The straining. 

I wonder if we ever know the damage we do while we are growing? 

I'm positive that mine will never fully comprehend the wealth of brokenness they've created. 

Mama Warriors, perhaps you are standing in the kitchen with Arty and I. 

Unsure of how you got here. 

Thinking you did a good job while the evidence currently points elsewhere. 

I'm reminding you, and me, today that we did the best we could, with the information and skills we had at the time, and we continued to be open to growing and changing. 

We are fully "enough" in Him. 

Regardless of what the current job review says.