I mentioned in my last post that Matthew is not attending Preschool. He already has many of the academic skills they would teach him. And I try to expose him to opportunities to learn other things like cooperation, playing with other kids, obeying teachers, working in a group, etc, through other activities we do like playdates and classes. I feel comfortable delaying his "formal" education until he is a little older, reinforcing and teaching things as he shows interest, but not forcing things or making "academic" time a formal part of our day. This isn't an indictment against preschool or school outside the home. I taught preschool and I think it can be great for a lot of kids. But I relish the opportunity to be home here with him and I can give him the same things, so we've chosen to skip it at this time. If we need to reevaluate, we will.
But I don't want to delay his Bible Education. We've always read to him from our Bible and his, but I want to be more formal about it.
So, we're starting on a little Bible School for him and me. I am going to try to use an ABC format. He knows his letters already, but I figured it gave me a good place to start so I could narrow down to a theme or topic. Having some sort of parameter is good for me so I'm not overwhelmed by my choices. And it can't hurt to reinforce the alphabet. A actually came pretty easily to me but if I start flushing it out and it doesn't work well within the alphabet rubric, we'll abandon it.
I love Children's storybook Bibles. We have 8 or 10 of them. So most of what I will be using is just readings from them. I'm not really using any curriculum. I'm just sort of developing it myself.
My plan is to read the scripture every day, and then read one of his story book Bibles. Throughout the week we'll read other story books we have that reinforce the topic. We'll have a Bible verse to memorize. I am toying with the idea of adding a Bible person of the week, and a place of the week too, but I haven't decided. This week the person goes with the lesson and they both start with A, but next week I am going to do B is for Bodies. God made Boaz' body, but it doesn't really reinforce the lesson. So we'll see. Same thing with songs. When we want to color, we'll color something that corresponds.
This fits well for my and Matthew's personalities. He really really loves to read and sing so he will think these things are fun to do, without feeling like it's crunching on his "play" time, which is what I want him to spend a lot of his time doing.
So without further ado, this is our game plan for the week.
A is for Adam and Animals
God Created the World
Scripture: Genesis 1:1-31
Monday: Toddler Bible, pages 12-19
Tuesday: New Bible in Pictures, pages 14-18
Wednesday: Jesus Story Book Bible, pages 18-27
Thursday: Jesus Calling Bible Storybook, pages 16-23
Friday: Big Picture Storybook Bible, pages 16-32
Person: Adam
Memory Verse: "All things were made by Him" John 1:3
Song: "All Creatures of our God and King"
Books: Creation Story, All Things Bright and Beautiful
These are other letters I have noodled on so far. In some I have multiple ideas, on others I don't have one yet. In some, I may just spend multiple weeks on the same letter so we can go through each one. I may also do a theme one week, and a person the next week. Who knows. That's the nice thing about this--we can do as much or as little as we want, at any pace we want!
B: Body, Bible
C: God takes Care of us, Christmas
D: Disciples, Discipline
E: God made everything, God gives us everything.
F: Forgiveness, Family, Friends, Food, Fear
G: God is good, Good news of the Gospel
H: Heaven
I:
J: Jesus
K: Be Kind
L: God is Love, God Loves Us, God Listens
M: God made Me
N:
O: God wants us to Obey
P: Be Patient, Praise God, Pray to God
Q:
R:
S: Sin
T: Be thankful
U:
V:
W: God gave us work to do, God made the world (focusing on other places rather than creation), God made us to Worship Him
X:
Y:
Z:
ABC People in the Bible:
A: Adam, Abraham
B: Boaz, Barnabas
C: Caleb
D: Daniel
E: Esther, Eve
F:
G: God, Gideon
H: Hezekiah, Hannah
J: Jesus, John, John the Baptist, Joseph, Joshua
K: King David
L: Lazarus
M: Mary, Matthew, Mark
N: Nathaniel
O: Obadiah
P: Paul, Peter
Q: Quirinius
R: Ruth, Rachel, Rebekah, Rahab
S: Sara, Simeon, Samuel, Satan
T: Timothy
U: Uzziah
V: Vashti
W: Wise Men
X: Xerxes
Y:
Z: Zachariah, Zaccheus
So, homeschooling mamas and mamas of preschoolers, what do you think? Would love your tips and tricks.
Monday, September 22, 2014
Tuesday, September 16, 2014
Work and MOPs and Peers and Grief and Loss and Hope and...
Hi Bloggyland!
I hope this finds you well.
Life has been a crazy whirlwind the last many months.
5 years ago, my husband started a little auto repair business wherein he was repairing cars for the dealership that used to employ him as Controller. It was a one car at a time operation and the overhead was low because he used space at their dealership or here in our driveway. Eventually that business grew and he borrowed some space from the dealership's other location.
2 and a half years ago, the opportunity to move into a proper shop presented itself. For a long time, it was just him. And then it was him and one other guy. Over the last 2.5 years, business exploded. We transitioned our model from repairing cars for other auto businesses (wholesale services) to focusing primarily on retail customers (individual vehicle owners). God has been amazing at providing work and customers for us. What was fledgling 5 years ago, is growing rapidly. We have a team of 6 employees (including DH and I) and we've grown 48% over last year, and almost 400% since we started. God is gracious and generous. We're now a full-service collision repair shop in our metro area.
What that means for me and this little blog though is that I really had to step up the role I played in the business. When we were all wholesale, I did almost nothing, except for the occasional ordering of office supplies or something. DH prefers to keep the books to exercise his Accounting Brain (I say no thanks anyway!), and between two auto businesses, there wasn't much I could do. Wooing retail customers is a whole different ballgame however and is massively time consuming. 4 employees and turning dozens of cars a week require a lot more systems too than one car and one guy at a time. Those are the areas I am more gifted in doing than DH is. So for most of the spring and summer, I worked whenever Matthew was sleeping, so I would work from about 6:30 am to 8:00am, between 2:00pm and 5:00pm while he napped, and from about 10:00pm to 1:00 or 2:00 am after Todd and Matthew went to sleep. It was exhausting. I honestly don't know how women who have to keep that pace all the time sustain it. You're amazing.
Thankfully, I don't have to pour quite so much time into it now, and so I can be a little more balanced though I still do work a lot.
When Matthew is awake, I try to give him as much of my attention as I can. We did a lot of classes at the Rec center over the summer-gymnastics and tumbling and dance. He loved them all. We do have to go into work sometimes and he enjoys going.
Now that I can breathe again, I hope to blog some more.
I went to my first MOPS group today. It was...interesting. I'm an extrovert. I have never felt uncomfortable walking into a room and making new friends. However, I can honestly say that the last time I had to walk into a group of strangers whom I was going to know for longer than a couple of hours was more than 10 years ago when I walked into what is now my church. I am such a different person than I was 10 years ago. 10 years ago I wasn't full of grief and loss and feelings of inadequacy and confusion.
My church is multi-generational. There are less than 5 families who are under 40. Most of my friends are in their late 40s or older. And I like it that way. For one, I'm an old soul anyway. Always have been and I just gravitate to them. So in the last 10 years, I haven't missed having the majority of my friends be my own age (ish). I do have girlfriends my own age, but all of them are from before any of us had kids, most of them are friends I met through infertility because they struggled too, and the number of non-peer friends I have still outnumber them.
So as this morning's meeting approached, I was nervous in a way I couldn't really understand. I'd never been nervous to go to a new group before.
It wasn't until I got there and they told me to make a name tag and tie little bows on it that I got it. Blue bows for boys, pink bows for girls, and white bows for children in Heaven. I almost walked out right then. How do you put 13 white ribbons on your name tag and not feel utterly absurd? The situation IS utterly absurd. I took 6 because it's what I thought I could take of what they had left and still leave some for other people. Gladly for them, not many people needed those white ribbons. I could have taken as many as I needed. So, from the get go, I was forced to deal with stuff I wasn't prepared to deal with today. Broadcast "hey, I'm the weirdo with 13 dead children" to a bunch of women whose necklaces were full of pink and blue. Let me tell you, it's not on anyone's list of conversation starters.
And that's when I realized how overwhelmingly uncomfortable I was in a group full of moms of young kids. When I'm with my friends whose kids are grown, the reminder of what I have lost and what I want so badly isn't staring me in the face all the time. I'm not constantly reminded of how different I am. I don't feel threatened or sad because I'm watching their kids play happily together while Matthew is alone. I don't feel like I'm going to get left behind or passed up. I don't feel like they might think I'm silly if I'm tired or overwhelmed with my one while they're juggling their 2 or 3 or 4. Conversations about how easily they get pregnant or when they might have another one or if they're pregnant now just don't happen. Give me menopause talk any day! I mean no disrespect to my friends who are my peers and I am so grateful for them too. I don't consciously feel uncomfortable with them in one on one situations. But walking into a whole room full was overwhelming.
We played some mindless games and I thought I was ok. They showed some fluffy rah rah rah video and I thought "piece of cake." They asked some fairly benign questions and, trying to participate some, when it came to my turn, I started to answer.
And the floodgates just opened. Here I was, in a room full of strangers, sobbing. Did I mention I make a great first impression? (sarcasm!) How do I honor my kids, honor the other women there, respect the testimony God has given me, be responsible with grief and feelings, and do anything productive with the time?
I just had no idea how difficult it would be to go and be with a bunch of "normal" moms. I just felt so inadequate and unable to relate, and sure that no one would understand me. 2 mamas at the table were jiggling infants. All but one had multiple kids. One woman had one loss. I hear everyone talking about how they just want a break and want some identity outside of being a mom. I just don't resonate with that. I know that "all" I am is a mom right now, and I LIKE that. I don't find myself wishing for more. More sleep maybe, but I don't really identify with those feelings that most other moms share. Maybe it's because I feel like it's already slipping away from me. 7 years of agonizingly slow waiting have given way to blink-of-an-eye time that I wish I could freeze. I feel a sort of panic about that pretty regularly. Like I'm clawing at the recent past and trying to stop time. I have a lot of growing to do in that area. God is the God of my past and of my future, but He's also the God of my now, and Matthew's now, and I want to be present with Him and him here.
I had no idea any of these things subconsciously bothered or hindered me. And the peer friends I do have are great so I'm not even sure where these thoughts came from because they're not really grounded in actual experiences.
The devil is crafty and brilliant. Never underestimate him and his ability to manipulate, lie, surprise, and steal. I am grateful that none of these things are a surprise to God and that He is big enough to handle my emotions.
We're supposed to transfer one final time sometime this fall and I find myself afraid, and even unwilling to hope. I was just resigned to another loss. This morning God reminded me though that we do not grieve as those who have no hope. That verse is usually used in context of the hope of Heaven. But my testimony is small if I can't believe God is big enough for Hope. So I'm trying to hope. I'm praying for hope. I don't have it yet, but I want it and I know by His grace, we'll get there. And if I'm crushed again, Selah.
Matthew continues to be amazing. God has given him a heart that wants to know and love the Lord. He astounds me with the things he says and does and thinks.
I intend to homeschool him for now. I don't think kids his age need formal education so right now any class we take is because it gives us access to people or resources for play that we don't have in our regular life. Plus, I used to be a preschool teacher so it seems sort of silly to send him to school for what I can give him. All of his learning is through exploration and play. We go to the zoo and museums and the library and other kid-friendly places like that. He's environmentally exposed to "concrete" things. He knows his upper and lower case letters by sight and sound, his numbers 1-20, his shapes, his colors, his address, his pronouns, his verb and noun tenses, most of his opposites, and many superlatives and spacial/size/measurement relations. This weekend he surprised me by deducing that 3 minus 1 is 2. So I think our system is working for us :) He's tall enough and verbal enough that a lot of people ask him if he's in school yet. I always feel a little bit bashful about saying no, and he's not going to be. I keep trying to remind myself that if it's not broke, don't fix it. This seems to work for our family and his learning style and personality. If we ever need to change it, we will.
He has a list of chores that are his and he generally does them happily. I really am so blessed to be his mom.
Right now, the love of his life is wheels. If you don't have wheels on you, he's either ignoring you or pretending you have wheels, or pretending that HE has wheels. Vehicles of every kind tickle his fancy. His imaginary friends are vehicles, too. He loves them all. The only things he loves as much as vehicles are books. He will sit and "read" for hours if you let him.
He's also 3.5 and all of stubborn and disobedient and noisy that comes with it. It's not all sunshine and roses, but I try to focus on the times that are. Because he might one day read this, I don't want to showcase his flaws for everyone to see, but suffice it to say, he has them. Sometimes I call him my little sinner. Hopefully one day, saved by grace.
Well, hubby is waiting for me to detox with him a bit before bed, so I'll leave you with this. Here's my little guy, taken just recently!
Goodnight, friends!
I hope this finds you well.
Life has been a crazy whirlwind the last many months.
5 years ago, my husband started a little auto repair business wherein he was repairing cars for the dealership that used to employ him as Controller. It was a one car at a time operation and the overhead was low because he used space at their dealership or here in our driveway. Eventually that business grew and he borrowed some space from the dealership's other location.
2 and a half years ago, the opportunity to move into a proper shop presented itself. For a long time, it was just him. And then it was him and one other guy. Over the last 2.5 years, business exploded. We transitioned our model from repairing cars for other auto businesses (wholesale services) to focusing primarily on retail customers (individual vehicle owners). God has been amazing at providing work and customers for us. What was fledgling 5 years ago, is growing rapidly. We have a team of 6 employees (including DH and I) and we've grown 48% over last year, and almost 400% since we started. God is gracious and generous. We're now a full-service collision repair shop in our metro area.
What that means for me and this little blog though is that I really had to step up the role I played in the business. When we were all wholesale, I did almost nothing, except for the occasional ordering of office supplies or something. DH prefers to keep the books to exercise his Accounting Brain (I say no thanks anyway!), and between two auto businesses, there wasn't much I could do. Wooing retail customers is a whole different ballgame however and is massively time consuming. 4 employees and turning dozens of cars a week require a lot more systems too than one car and one guy at a time. Those are the areas I am more gifted in doing than DH is. So for most of the spring and summer, I worked whenever Matthew was sleeping, so I would work from about 6:30 am to 8:00am, between 2:00pm and 5:00pm while he napped, and from about 10:00pm to 1:00 or 2:00 am after Todd and Matthew went to sleep. It was exhausting. I honestly don't know how women who have to keep that pace all the time sustain it. You're amazing.
Thankfully, I don't have to pour quite so much time into it now, and so I can be a little more balanced though I still do work a lot.
When Matthew is awake, I try to give him as much of my attention as I can. We did a lot of classes at the Rec center over the summer-gymnastics and tumbling and dance. He loved them all. We do have to go into work sometimes and he enjoys going.
Now that I can breathe again, I hope to blog some more.
I went to my first MOPS group today. It was...interesting. I'm an extrovert. I have never felt uncomfortable walking into a room and making new friends. However, I can honestly say that the last time I had to walk into a group of strangers whom I was going to know for longer than a couple of hours was more than 10 years ago when I walked into what is now my church. I am such a different person than I was 10 years ago. 10 years ago I wasn't full of grief and loss and feelings of inadequacy and confusion.
My church is multi-generational. There are less than 5 families who are under 40. Most of my friends are in their late 40s or older. And I like it that way. For one, I'm an old soul anyway. Always have been and I just gravitate to them. So in the last 10 years, I haven't missed having the majority of my friends be my own age (ish). I do have girlfriends my own age, but all of them are from before any of us had kids, most of them are friends I met through infertility because they struggled too, and the number of non-peer friends I have still outnumber them.
So as this morning's meeting approached, I was nervous in a way I couldn't really understand. I'd never been nervous to go to a new group before.
It wasn't until I got there and they told me to make a name tag and tie little bows on it that I got it. Blue bows for boys, pink bows for girls, and white bows for children in Heaven. I almost walked out right then. How do you put 13 white ribbons on your name tag and not feel utterly absurd? The situation IS utterly absurd. I took 6 because it's what I thought I could take of what they had left and still leave some for other people. Gladly for them, not many people needed those white ribbons. I could have taken as many as I needed. So, from the get go, I was forced to deal with stuff I wasn't prepared to deal with today. Broadcast "hey, I'm the weirdo with 13 dead children" to a bunch of women whose necklaces were full of pink and blue. Let me tell you, it's not on anyone's list of conversation starters.
And that's when I realized how overwhelmingly uncomfortable I was in a group full of moms of young kids. When I'm with my friends whose kids are grown, the reminder of what I have lost and what I want so badly isn't staring me in the face all the time. I'm not constantly reminded of how different I am. I don't feel threatened or sad because I'm watching their kids play happily together while Matthew is alone. I don't feel like I'm going to get left behind or passed up. I don't feel like they might think I'm silly if I'm tired or overwhelmed with my one while they're juggling their 2 or 3 or 4. Conversations about how easily they get pregnant or when they might have another one or if they're pregnant now just don't happen. Give me menopause talk any day! I mean no disrespect to my friends who are my peers and I am so grateful for them too. I don't consciously feel uncomfortable with them in one on one situations. But walking into a whole room full was overwhelming.
We played some mindless games and I thought I was ok. They showed some fluffy rah rah rah video and I thought "piece of cake." They asked some fairly benign questions and, trying to participate some, when it came to my turn, I started to answer.
And the floodgates just opened. Here I was, in a room full of strangers, sobbing. Did I mention I make a great first impression? (sarcasm!) How do I honor my kids, honor the other women there, respect the testimony God has given me, be responsible with grief and feelings, and do anything productive with the time?
I just had no idea how difficult it would be to go and be with a bunch of "normal" moms. I just felt so inadequate and unable to relate, and sure that no one would understand me. 2 mamas at the table were jiggling infants. All but one had multiple kids. One woman had one loss. I hear everyone talking about how they just want a break and want some identity outside of being a mom. I just don't resonate with that. I know that "all" I am is a mom right now, and I LIKE that. I don't find myself wishing for more. More sleep maybe, but I don't really identify with those feelings that most other moms share. Maybe it's because I feel like it's already slipping away from me. 7 years of agonizingly slow waiting have given way to blink-of-an-eye time that I wish I could freeze. I feel a sort of panic about that pretty regularly. Like I'm clawing at the recent past and trying to stop time. I have a lot of growing to do in that area. God is the God of my past and of my future, but He's also the God of my now, and Matthew's now, and I want to be present with Him and him here.
I had no idea any of these things subconsciously bothered or hindered me. And the peer friends I do have are great so I'm not even sure where these thoughts came from because they're not really grounded in actual experiences.
The devil is crafty and brilliant. Never underestimate him and his ability to manipulate, lie, surprise, and steal. I am grateful that none of these things are a surprise to God and that He is big enough to handle my emotions.
We're supposed to transfer one final time sometime this fall and I find myself afraid, and even unwilling to hope. I was just resigned to another loss. This morning God reminded me though that we do not grieve as those who have no hope. That verse is usually used in context of the hope of Heaven. But my testimony is small if I can't believe God is big enough for Hope. So I'm trying to hope. I'm praying for hope. I don't have it yet, but I want it and I know by His grace, we'll get there. And if I'm crushed again, Selah.
Matthew continues to be amazing. God has given him a heart that wants to know and love the Lord. He astounds me with the things he says and does and thinks.
I intend to homeschool him for now. I don't think kids his age need formal education so right now any class we take is because it gives us access to people or resources for play that we don't have in our regular life. Plus, I used to be a preschool teacher so it seems sort of silly to send him to school for what I can give him. All of his learning is through exploration and play. We go to the zoo and museums and the library and other kid-friendly places like that. He's environmentally exposed to "concrete" things. He knows his upper and lower case letters by sight and sound, his numbers 1-20, his shapes, his colors, his address, his pronouns, his verb and noun tenses, most of his opposites, and many superlatives and spacial/size/measurement relations. This weekend he surprised me by deducing that 3 minus 1 is 2. So I think our system is working for us :) He's tall enough and verbal enough that a lot of people ask him if he's in school yet. I always feel a little bit bashful about saying no, and he's not going to be. I keep trying to remind myself that if it's not broke, don't fix it. This seems to work for our family and his learning style and personality. If we ever need to change it, we will.
He has a list of chores that are his and he generally does them happily. I really am so blessed to be his mom.
Right now, the love of his life is wheels. If you don't have wheels on you, he's either ignoring you or pretending you have wheels, or pretending that HE has wheels. Vehicles of every kind tickle his fancy. His imaginary friends are vehicles, too. He loves them all. The only things he loves as much as vehicles are books. He will sit and "read" for hours if you let him.
He's also 3.5 and all of stubborn and disobedient and noisy that comes with it. It's not all sunshine and roses, but I try to focus on the times that are. Because he might one day read this, I don't want to showcase his flaws for everyone to see, but suffice it to say, he has them. Sometimes I call him my little sinner. Hopefully one day, saved by grace.
Well, hubby is waiting for me to detox with him a bit before bed, so I'll leave you with this. Here's my little guy, taken just recently!
Goodnight, friends!
Friday, May 30, 2014
Mundane and Mediocre
I've been working through these thoughts in my head for the better part of...well, most of my adult life. I'm not even sure I'm going to post this.
In my head, I called it "Mediocre for Jesus." But then I thought people might get the wrong idea about what I meant. So then I shelved it. But the idea itches at me even now.
So, let's start by clarifying right up front what I don't mean. I unequivocally believe that we are to Love the Lord our God with all our hearts, souls, and minds. We are to do all things with excellence. We are to do all for the glory of God the Father. We are to be hold or cold (meaning, USEFUL) and not lukewarm (without purpose). In these things, there is no room for mediocrity.
A little over a year ago, I had the opportunity to spend 2 precious hours with John Mark Reynolds, my dear friend and mentor from college. Though I've known him 15 years, I'm quite certain I'd never spent 2 uninterrupted hours getting to talk to him and his lovely wife. He's busy and in-demand, and always moving. John Mark is one of those world changer people. The people you're just better for knowing. The type of person you know will have many ripple effects for generations. And I am blessed to call him friend.
Naturally, he's surrounded by other world changers. I met him in a program he founded, designed to groom world-changers. The opportunity I had to spend with this precious couple happened precisely because he was here in Arizona to fundraise for another world-changer we know, and his Classical School.
So, you can imagine how awkward it feels to be the follow-up act to time with the world-changer. "So, what are you and Todd up to Jen?" We've stayed in touch over the years since I moved away so the question wasn't completely without an already-existent general knowledge of the answer. So rather than tell them what they already knew about being a mom and helping my husband run a body shop, I answered, "Well, we're trying to practice contentment in our mediocrity." They both looked at me, and I saw in their faces that they were looking for words to challenge what they thought was self-deprecation with some sort encouragement. Lest anyone get the wrong idea, I'll clarify for you what I clarified immediately for them: this is not a self-esteem problem. I'm not looking for someone to give me a pep talk or to tell me I'm not mediocre.
What I mean is, I will probably never be a big-W World changer. I'll never be famous. My talent is not exceptional. Most of my strongest traits are my negative ones. On the "klout" score scale of life, I'll always fall squarely on the side of average.
And that's ok.
I think we've been deceived by this notion of "Go big or go home." Bigger is always better. Always. I think a lot of us spend a lot of time wishing we were bigger*, better, and more influential. (*Except for in the waistline, where I think we all want to be a little smaller, can I get an 'Amen?'"). I think this longing, left unchecked, leads to great discontentment, sadness, broken relationship, grief, depression, and distraction from our goal of loving our God and loving our neighbor.
We're told to "follow our dreams" but when those dreams don't pan out, or don't explode the way we think they should, we're left feeling lost and hopeless. The businessman is perceived as less "on fire for God" and less impactful in the kingdom than the bushwhacker. Churches get swept up in playing the numbers game, judging their impact and godliness by the size of their congregation and its pocketbook. We write songs that probably shouldn't be written just because they sound good and will go "big" in radio play. We race to our facebooks and our latest blog posts to see how many likes and comments we have. We want to be the mom in the playgroup with the most well-behaved child, or the most-influential blog, or the greatest-kept parenting secret that will change everyone's life when we share it with them. We end marriages when every moment of every day is not filled with 'epic' love. We can't send $100 so we don't send $10. We hold contests and award shows and autographs. We tout that these are the measure of success and the goal to which we should aspire.
We're searching for a significance among the created that we don't realize we have already in the eyes of the Creator.
The reality is that we can't all go big. For every Billy Graham, there are thousands of men leading their little flocks faithfully each week. Shepherd anyway. For every best-seller, there are millions of unfinished manuscripts. Write anyway. For every grammy winning voice, there is an abundance of noise-makers. Sing anyway. For every epic-love story, there are countless quite ordinary love stories. Love anyway. For every super mom, there are many of us average moms. Mom anyway. Do it all with as much excellence and faithfulness as is in you by the power of the Holy Spirit.
Rather take our ball and go home, I propose that we try to excel in our obscurity. Let us do our jobs well. Let us love our families well. Let us love our neighbors well. Let us write, and pray, and cook, and sing, and dance, and work, and parent, and love in all our average-ness, for the glory of the God who created us to do those things. Be excellent at being a good neighbor, friend, sibling, employee, parent, child, roommate, customer, passenger, stranger, juror, voter, passerby, witness, coach, teacher, mentor. Be excellent at loving, and learning, and obeying, and worshiping, and praying, and forgiving. You probably won't change the big-W world. But it's ok to change just your world. I put forward that it is a worthwhile, God-honoring thing to be excellent at being average.
The Holy Spirit at work within us is the same as the one at work in the world-changers. Our triune God is Big and Uncontainable and Excellent. And He works on stages both large and small.
I find no fault in the world-changers who genuinely are equipped and called to go Big. My life will forever be better because of the Reynolds family, and Christendom will be better for them too. Rejoice and celebrate with those who do the big things. Equip and encourage them if you can. It's a good and noble thing to want your sphere of influence for God's glory to be as large as possible. And indeed it is a dishonorable thing to squander your talents and to neglect a call of God on your life to do more than you are, whether it is big or small Where I find the problem is when those who don't go-Big buy into the lie that we've missed some sort of mark or failed some sort of test of usefulness in God's kingdom.
I feel like this is all rather cliche. It's true, this is no great revelation. Even these thoughts are mediocre. But I admit that I am one who falls prey to the temptation to be significant. All around me, I see the Devil using it to distract and weigh down God's children. And he wouldn't use it if it didn't work.
So, I remind myself to be excellently, radically average for Jesus and to be content in this beautifully little life He has for me.
In my head, I called it "Mediocre for Jesus." But then I thought people might get the wrong idea about what I meant. So then I shelved it. But the idea itches at me even now.
So, let's start by clarifying right up front what I don't mean. I unequivocally believe that we are to Love the Lord our God with all our hearts, souls, and minds. We are to do all things with excellence. We are to do all for the glory of God the Father. We are to be hold or cold (meaning, USEFUL) and not lukewarm (without purpose). In these things, there is no room for mediocrity.
A little over a year ago, I had the opportunity to spend 2 precious hours with John Mark Reynolds, my dear friend and mentor from college. Though I've known him 15 years, I'm quite certain I'd never spent 2 uninterrupted hours getting to talk to him and his lovely wife. He's busy and in-demand, and always moving. John Mark is one of those world changer people. The people you're just better for knowing. The type of person you know will have many ripple effects for generations. And I am blessed to call him friend.
Naturally, he's surrounded by other world changers. I met him in a program he founded, designed to groom world-changers. The opportunity I had to spend with this precious couple happened precisely because he was here in Arizona to fundraise for another world-changer we know, and his Classical School.
So, you can imagine how awkward it feels to be the follow-up act to time with the world-changer. "So, what are you and Todd up to Jen?" We've stayed in touch over the years since I moved away so the question wasn't completely without an already-existent general knowledge of the answer. So rather than tell them what they already knew about being a mom and helping my husband run a body shop, I answered, "Well, we're trying to practice contentment in our mediocrity." They both looked at me, and I saw in their faces that they were looking for words to challenge what they thought was self-deprecation with some sort encouragement. Lest anyone get the wrong idea, I'll clarify for you what I clarified immediately for them: this is not a self-esteem problem. I'm not looking for someone to give me a pep talk or to tell me I'm not mediocre.
What I mean is, I will probably never be a big-W World changer. I'll never be famous. My talent is not exceptional. Most of my strongest traits are my negative ones. On the "klout" score scale of life, I'll always fall squarely on the side of average.
And that's ok.
I think we've been deceived by this notion of "Go big or go home." Bigger is always better. Always. I think a lot of us spend a lot of time wishing we were bigger*, better, and more influential. (*Except for in the waistline, where I think we all want to be a little smaller, can I get an 'Amen?'"). I think this longing, left unchecked, leads to great discontentment, sadness, broken relationship, grief, depression, and distraction from our goal of loving our God and loving our neighbor.
We're told to "follow our dreams" but when those dreams don't pan out, or don't explode the way we think they should, we're left feeling lost and hopeless. The businessman is perceived as less "on fire for God" and less impactful in the kingdom than the bushwhacker. Churches get swept up in playing the numbers game, judging their impact and godliness by the size of their congregation and its pocketbook. We write songs that probably shouldn't be written just because they sound good and will go "big" in radio play. We race to our facebooks and our latest blog posts to see how many likes and comments we have. We want to be the mom in the playgroup with the most well-behaved child, or the most-influential blog, or the greatest-kept parenting secret that will change everyone's life when we share it with them. We end marriages when every moment of every day is not filled with 'epic' love. We can't send $100 so we don't send $10. We hold contests and award shows and autographs. We tout that these are the measure of success and the goal to which we should aspire.
We're searching for a significance among the created that we don't realize we have already in the eyes of the Creator.
The reality is that we can't all go big. For every Billy Graham, there are thousands of men leading their little flocks faithfully each week. Shepherd anyway. For every best-seller, there are millions of unfinished manuscripts. Write anyway. For every grammy winning voice, there is an abundance of noise-makers. Sing anyway. For every epic-love story, there are countless quite ordinary love stories. Love anyway. For every super mom, there are many of us average moms. Mom anyway. Do it all with as much excellence and faithfulness as is in you by the power of the Holy Spirit.
Rather take our ball and go home, I propose that we try to excel in our obscurity. Let us do our jobs well. Let us love our families well. Let us love our neighbors well. Let us write, and pray, and cook, and sing, and dance, and work, and parent, and love in all our average-ness, for the glory of the God who created us to do those things. Be excellent at being a good neighbor, friend, sibling, employee, parent, child, roommate, customer, passenger, stranger, juror, voter, passerby, witness, coach, teacher, mentor. Be excellent at loving, and learning, and obeying, and worshiping, and praying, and forgiving. You probably won't change the big-W world. But it's ok to change just your world. I put forward that it is a worthwhile, God-honoring thing to be excellent at being average.
The Holy Spirit at work within us is the same as the one at work in the world-changers. Our triune God is Big and Uncontainable and Excellent. And He works on stages both large and small.
I find no fault in the world-changers who genuinely are equipped and called to go Big. My life will forever be better because of the Reynolds family, and Christendom will be better for them too. Rejoice and celebrate with those who do the big things. Equip and encourage them if you can. It's a good and noble thing to want your sphere of influence for God's glory to be as large as possible. And indeed it is a dishonorable thing to squander your talents and to neglect a call of God on your life to do more than you are, whether it is big or small Where I find the problem is when those who don't go-Big buy into the lie that we've missed some sort of mark or failed some sort of test of usefulness in God's kingdom.
I feel like this is all rather cliche. It's true, this is no great revelation. Even these thoughts are mediocre. But I admit that I am one who falls prey to the temptation to be significant. All around me, I see the Devil using it to distract and weigh down God's children. And he wouldn't use it if it didn't work.
So, I remind myself to be excellently, radically average for Jesus and to be content in this beautifully little life He has for me.
Saturday, May 10, 2014
Mother's Day, Mom' Night Out, Only Child-ness, and more
Thanks for the reception back to blogging!
I went last night to see the movie "Moms' Night Out." The premise is that an overworked mommy of young kids decides, with her husband's encouragement, to take a night off to go out and have fun with her friends. Through a series of completely unbelievable circumstances, all H-E-double hockey sticks breaks loose and the rest of the movie is spent laughing as they bumble their way through trying to unwind the chaos.
It's a Christian film, which I honestly, generally don't like, on account that they're usually poorly produced, poorly acted, overly preachy, and patently cliche. And I can't even say that this movie isn't those things. Hands down it IS better than all of its sister movies from the same group (the folks who brought us Fireproof, Facing the Giants, etc). Maybe it's because I'm a mom of a young child and I empathize with her exhaustion. But overall, I enjoyed this movie very much, and would recommend it.
Sort of spoilerish note--my mom was put off by the trailer because she thought the missing baby story line would be stressful. The baby is never missing or in any danger. The moms don't know where the baby is but the audience does, and he's safe. The movie is purely comedic, not stress at all.
The movie has your to-be-expected "hang in there" encouragements for moms in the trenches. If you're looking to be surprised, this isn't the film for you. If you want to enjoy some laughter and maybe be encouraged, you'll probably enjoy this.
But as I was sitting there watching this, I was struggling through some things I feel often as the mom of an only child. This mom is completely overwhelmed. The kids are always running in different directions. Once she gets one under control, another one is making trouble somewhere else.
I have it pretty good. Matthew is a pretty good kid, who is usually obedient, who sleeps well, and who still takes naps. Therefore, sometimes I feel like I don't have the right to get to the point of exhaustion or frazzle that moms with two, three, four or whatever kids get to. I find myself feeling like I haven't earned the badge yet that gets me into the mom society.
And some of those feelings are good. I don't think it is good to let ourselves get to the point of overload and frazzle, and I think only the Lord can keep us from that. So I think it's good that I am cautioned by those feelings. But sometimes, motherhood is hard, and I find it hard to ask for help because most everyone else has a heavier work load in that department than I do. I only have one child. How hard can it be? If it is hard, am I doing something wrong? So I wrestle with that.
A lot of that probably comes from still feeling pretty unresolved about only having one child this side of Heaven. Lately, those feelings have been more raw than usual. I see Matthew playing with other kids and he's so social and I want so desperately for him to have a sibling and it kills me that I can't give that to him. Three friends announced pregnancies this week, which brought that rawness to the surface. I'm discovering all over again how hard grief is and how much it can surprise you. I'm sure the proximity to Mother's Day compounds it, too. Even with a child, Mother's Day is hard. Not as hard as it was, but still hard.
I remember all those times I judged parents struggling with secondary infertility with secret thoughts of, "at least you have one!" And it's good to remind myself of that. As far as WHO my child is, I am the most blessed mom in the world. Matthew really is amazing. And I never want him to feel like he isn't good enough to satisfy my need and want to parent. But so much of my need and desire is on Matthew's behalf, as much as on my own.
I struggle through the same old thoughts. If children are a heritage from the Lord, a reward for the righteous, then what are we doing to exclude ourselves from that pronouncement and how can we fix it? On the other hand, God designed my husband the way he did from birth, before he committed any sin. He made Him that way for a reason and God doesn't make mistakes. Why do I still find myself wondering if God really loves me when I know, earnestly and empirically, that He does? Choosing to believe Truth in spite of my feelings is hard, and exhausting. It's a deliberate placement of one foot in front of the other, toward the cross, away from pity and doubt. I am thankful that I can cast this on Him, for His yoke is easy and His burden is light.
I ache tonight too for everyone struggling with Mother's Day. If you've lost your mom, or a child, or both, or if you long to be a mom but are not, I am so sorry. Nothing can make this day easier and I wish it could. I'm sorry. I hurt for you, and I pray for you. I pray that you will feel comfort today.
Amen.
The people we adopted Matthew from asked if they could visit Matthew. I've been praying and seeking counsel and examining my heart. Nothing challenges whether true forgiveness is in your heart more than being asked to make yourself vulnerable again to people who hurt you. Adding parenting to the mix adds another element to it because it's not just me I'm putting in that position. I want so desperately to do the right thing by the Lord, and the right thing by Matthew, and the right thing by them, and the right thing for our family, and it's just paralyzing to make a decision as to what that is. No matter what decision we make, something could go wrong, something could upset the apple cart again, something could impact Matthew in a way different than we wish it would. I am thankful that God's grace is sufficient for me and that His power is made perfect in my weakness, that He knows the plans He has for us, that He loves us, that He will never leave us or forsake us, that He will give us wisdom if we ask, and that He has forgiven us and removed our sins from us as far as the east is from the west. Figuring out how to live that way, to demonstrate that extravagant grace and love to your child and to everyone else, is a faith-building journey. I don't have it figured out, even a little bit. But God does. Lord, give us ears to hear!
I went last night to see the movie "Moms' Night Out." The premise is that an overworked mommy of young kids decides, with her husband's encouragement, to take a night off to go out and have fun with her friends. Through a series of completely unbelievable circumstances, all H-E-double hockey sticks breaks loose and the rest of the movie is spent laughing as they bumble their way through trying to unwind the chaos.
It's a Christian film, which I honestly, generally don't like, on account that they're usually poorly produced, poorly acted, overly preachy, and patently cliche. And I can't even say that this movie isn't those things. Hands down it IS better than all of its sister movies from the same group (the folks who brought us Fireproof, Facing the Giants, etc). Maybe it's because I'm a mom of a young child and I empathize with her exhaustion. But overall, I enjoyed this movie very much, and would recommend it.
Sort of spoilerish note--my mom was put off by the trailer because she thought the missing baby story line would be stressful. The baby is never missing or in any danger. The moms don't know where the baby is but the audience does, and he's safe. The movie is purely comedic, not stress at all.
The movie has your to-be-expected "hang in there" encouragements for moms in the trenches. If you're looking to be surprised, this isn't the film for you. If you want to enjoy some laughter and maybe be encouraged, you'll probably enjoy this.
But as I was sitting there watching this, I was struggling through some things I feel often as the mom of an only child. This mom is completely overwhelmed. The kids are always running in different directions. Once she gets one under control, another one is making trouble somewhere else.
I have it pretty good. Matthew is a pretty good kid, who is usually obedient, who sleeps well, and who still takes naps. Therefore, sometimes I feel like I don't have the right to get to the point of exhaustion or frazzle that moms with two, three, four or whatever kids get to. I find myself feeling like I haven't earned the badge yet that gets me into the mom society.
And some of those feelings are good. I don't think it is good to let ourselves get to the point of overload and frazzle, and I think only the Lord can keep us from that. So I think it's good that I am cautioned by those feelings. But sometimes, motherhood is hard, and I find it hard to ask for help because most everyone else has a heavier work load in that department than I do. I only have one child. How hard can it be? If it is hard, am I doing something wrong? So I wrestle with that.
A lot of that probably comes from still feeling pretty unresolved about only having one child this side of Heaven. Lately, those feelings have been more raw than usual. I see Matthew playing with other kids and he's so social and I want so desperately for him to have a sibling and it kills me that I can't give that to him. Three friends announced pregnancies this week, which brought that rawness to the surface. I'm discovering all over again how hard grief is and how much it can surprise you. I'm sure the proximity to Mother's Day compounds it, too. Even with a child, Mother's Day is hard. Not as hard as it was, but still hard.
I remember all those times I judged parents struggling with secondary infertility with secret thoughts of, "at least you have one!" And it's good to remind myself of that. As far as WHO my child is, I am the most blessed mom in the world. Matthew really is amazing. And I never want him to feel like he isn't good enough to satisfy my need and want to parent. But so much of my need and desire is on Matthew's behalf, as much as on my own.
I struggle through the same old thoughts. If children are a heritage from the Lord, a reward for the righteous, then what are we doing to exclude ourselves from that pronouncement and how can we fix it? On the other hand, God designed my husband the way he did from birth, before he committed any sin. He made Him that way for a reason and God doesn't make mistakes. Why do I still find myself wondering if God really loves me when I know, earnestly and empirically, that He does? Choosing to believe Truth in spite of my feelings is hard, and exhausting. It's a deliberate placement of one foot in front of the other, toward the cross, away from pity and doubt. I am thankful that I can cast this on Him, for His yoke is easy and His burden is light.
I ache tonight too for everyone struggling with Mother's Day. If you've lost your mom, or a child, or both, or if you long to be a mom but are not, I am so sorry. Nothing can make this day easier and I wish it could. I'm sorry. I hurt for you, and I pray for you. I pray that you will feel comfort today.
The Pastor who married us, who himself is childless, wrote this today:
For those who have a tough time on Mother's Day, you are right to want things to be as they ought. Do not feel guilty for wanting it, gently disregard the words of those who don't understand, know that others do, and receive a measure of peace that surpasses all understanding.
Amen.
The people we adopted Matthew from asked if they could visit Matthew. I've been praying and seeking counsel and examining my heart. Nothing challenges whether true forgiveness is in your heart more than being asked to make yourself vulnerable again to people who hurt you. Adding parenting to the mix adds another element to it because it's not just me I'm putting in that position. I want so desperately to do the right thing by the Lord, and the right thing by Matthew, and the right thing by them, and the right thing for our family, and it's just paralyzing to make a decision as to what that is. No matter what decision we make, something could go wrong, something could upset the apple cart again, something could impact Matthew in a way different than we wish it would. I am thankful that God's grace is sufficient for me and that His power is made perfect in my weakness, that He knows the plans He has for us, that He loves us, that He will never leave us or forsake us, that He will give us wisdom if we ask, and that He has forgiven us and removed our sins from us as far as the east is from the west. Figuring out how to live that way, to demonstrate that extravagant grace and love to your child and to everyone else, is a faith-building journey. I don't have it figured out, even a little bit. But God does. Lord, give us ears to hear!
Tuesday, April 15, 2014
A Desire to Write
Hello, Dear Readers, if there are any of you left.
I last blogged in August of last year. I quit blogging for a variety of reasons.
I could no longer answer the question of why I blog.
When I first started blogging 7 years ago, I did so because I was the only Embryo Adoption blog that I could find. I felt alone in my journey and I felt that if I could help someone else feel less alone, then I had something worth saying. I felt like it was a little ministry on my corner of the web where I could help people. Many years have come and gone since then, and there are many of you who say things so much better than I do, who have more to say, who have better hearts for ministry. When our story took a tragic turn with the seizure of our babies, I felt like I could no longer give the wholehearted endorsement of purposeful grief, of open adoption, and of ministry through pain that I thought these subjects so deeply deserved. Our pain was and is real, but it's not typical, and I don't want anyone to be frightened away by it, but I also can't smile through the pain like I used to, and I don't think that's a voice people should be listening to when they're navigating their way through their own pain.
Then I decided my blog would serve more as a chronicle of Matthew. But as he gets older, this story becomes more his than mine, and I thought that maybe he might not want everything detailed so carefully for the world wide web to read. Unwelcome attention here made that decision even easier.
So then I began to wonder if I had a story of my own worth writing about. And I don't think I do. And I don't mean that in a self-deprecating way. It's just a fact. My voice is not particularly witty, or clever, or insightful, and the housewife-gazette just didn't get me excited to write, nor did I think it was much fun for anyone else to read. I have much to say, but I'm not sure that I have much to add to any of the important conversations. I think about Mary, and how she "treasured up [things] in her heart" and I think that I have much to learn and I wonder what this looks like for me.
I thought about writing about parenting itself, but I don't have any particularly new ideas, nor any particularly new way to express them.
And yet I have a desire to write. All these months later, I still have ideas for things I want to post about. And I struggle with figuring out where the balance between self-expression and self-importance is. Words and ideas matter. And if they matter, I'm not sure how much I should be expressing of the ones that eternally don't matter.
And so much has changed in our lives. We're in a state of stress right now as we struggle through health issues with our son. We have been under quarantine for 3 weeks, he is on several medications that alter his disposition, and we are both feeling cabin fever and frustration. We lived from Thanksgiving until the end of January (10 weeks) in a hotel because our house suffered major rain damage and we're still suffering the financial impact of the upset and repairs. We suffered a very deep hurt in one of our closest communities and are still trying to figure out how to re-insert ourselves.
I used to be the most passionate person I knew. I find that I'm not passionate about much of anything these days. I'm too tired, too downtrodden, too-many-times told unwelcome. I feel like this last battle finally whipped it out of me. After years of defending it as the very core of my identity, (wrongfully so!), I'm not sure what stands in its place. Who am I when my only identity is Christ? What does that look like? Deep self-reflection and prayer has yielded little clues as to what the next step in this part of my sanctification is. But in the mean time, I feel rather unknown to myself. Which I think is silly, because I've always thought this "find yourself" thing is a load of bologna. And it is. So I wait as I beg the Lord to will my heart to act according to what I know is true.
Phew boy this sounds sad. It's not. It's just the reason I don't write anymore.
Lest this sound depressing, I have much cause for joy too. About a month ago, we received a letter from the people we adopted Matthew from, apologizing for everything they have done to us. To be honest, we haven't had much time to even process it because of these other things that have been going on. It was so unexpected. But we are blessed.
Matthew is 3 years old and happy and usually healthy. He's smart, affectionate, sweet, sassy, and high on life. We are blessed.
Our business is growing and changing rapidly. We are blessed.
Easter is coming. We are blessed.
In the midst of all these thoughts, I want to write. So, what do you do with that?
I last blogged in August of last year. I quit blogging for a variety of reasons.
I could no longer answer the question of why I blog.
When I first started blogging 7 years ago, I did so because I was the only Embryo Adoption blog that I could find. I felt alone in my journey and I felt that if I could help someone else feel less alone, then I had something worth saying. I felt like it was a little ministry on my corner of the web where I could help people. Many years have come and gone since then, and there are many of you who say things so much better than I do, who have more to say, who have better hearts for ministry. When our story took a tragic turn with the seizure of our babies, I felt like I could no longer give the wholehearted endorsement of purposeful grief, of open adoption, and of ministry through pain that I thought these subjects so deeply deserved. Our pain was and is real, but it's not typical, and I don't want anyone to be frightened away by it, but I also can't smile through the pain like I used to, and I don't think that's a voice people should be listening to when they're navigating their way through their own pain.
Then I decided my blog would serve more as a chronicle of Matthew. But as he gets older, this story becomes more his than mine, and I thought that maybe he might not want everything detailed so carefully for the world wide web to read. Unwelcome attention here made that decision even easier.
So then I began to wonder if I had a story of my own worth writing about. And I don't think I do. And I don't mean that in a self-deprecating way. It's just a fact. My voice is not particularly witty, or clever, or insightful, and the housewife-gazette just didn't get me excited to write, nor did I think it was much fun for anyone else to read. I have much to say, but I'm not sure that I have much to add to any of the important conversations. I think about Mary, and how she "treasured up [things] in her heart" and I think that I have much to learn and I wonder what this looks like for me.
I thought about writing about parenting itself, but I don't have any particularly new ideas, nor any particularly new way to express them.
And yet I have a desire to write. All these months later, I still have ideas for things I want to post about. And I struggle with figuring out where the balance between self-expression and self-importance is. Words and ideas matter. And if they matter, I'm not sure how much I should be expressing of the ones that eternally don't matter.
And so much has changed in our lives. We're in a state of stress right now as we struggle through health issues with our son. We have been under quarantine for 3 weeks, he is on several medications that alter his disposition, and we are both feeling cabin fever and frustration. We lived from Thanksgiving until the end of January (10 weeks) in a hotel because our house suffered major rain damage and we're still suffering the financial impact of the upset and repairs. We suffered a very deep hurt in one of our closest communities and are still trying to figure out how to re-insert ourselves.
I used to be the most passionate person I knew. I find that I'm not passionate about much of anything these days. I'm too tired, too downtrodden, too-many-times told unwelcome. I feel like this last battle finally whipped it out of me. After years of defending it as the very core of my identity, (wrongfully so!), I'm not sure what stands in its place. Who am I when my only identity is Christ? What does that look like? Deep self-reflection and prayer has yielded little clues as to what the next step in this part of my sanctification is. But in the mean time, I feel rather unknown to myself. Which I think is silly, because I've always thought this "find yourself" thing is a load of bologna. And it is. So I wait as I beg the Lord to will my heart to act according to what I know is true.
Phew boy this sounds sad. It's not. It's just the reason I don't write anymore.
Lest this sound depressing, I have much cause for joy too. About a month ago, we received a letter from the people we adopted Matthew from, apologizing for everything they have done to us. To be honest, we haven't had much time to even process it because of these other things that have been going on. It was so unexpected. But we are blessed.
Matthew is 3 years old and happy and usually healthy. He's smart, affectionate, sweet, sassy, and high on life. We are blessed.
Our business is growing and changing rapidly. We are blessed.
Easter is coming. We are blessed.
In the midst of all these thoughts, I want to write. So, what do you do with that?
Sunday, August 4, 2013
Stuff Matthew Says, Part 2
I love this time in Matthew's life where he's still learning language. Here are some of my favorite "Matthewisms."
"Are you okay?" He says this if he gets hurt or does something that presumably could have hurt him (fall down, run into something, etc). He walks around and asks everyone in the vicinity, "Are you okay?" So sweet.
"Noonles" -Noodles
"Chicken" - "Kitchen." It's really cute to hear him tell me he is playing in his chicken.
"Easies"- Earrings. My mother in law likes to wear earrings so she has some in 99% of the time she sees him. Especially when Matthew was younger, he wanted to touch and handle them. She'd let him, but, trying to encourage him to be gentle, she'd say "easy" while he was doing it. He now thinks they're called "easies."
"Fishy Pants"-His swim trunks that have fish on them
"Hopter" - Helicopter
"Red bed" -the sheets on our bed are red, so he'll say "Mashu and mommy in the red bed?" when he wants to go in there and snuggle or jump on the bed
"Nuke" =Milk
"You want" and "Are you??"- He says things this way to refer to himself, presumably from hearing me ask him "are you..." or whatever. "You want nuke?" = "I want some milk." "Are you stinky?" = "My diaper is dirty." It's really funny though when he comes and says, "Mommy, are you stinky?"
"Mommy, are you talking to a beaver?" -He said this to me yesterday morning. I have no idea what it means and I didn't even know he knew what a beaver is (not something we see in Arizona), but it was too funny not to share.
"Are you okay?" He says this if he gets hurt or does something that presumably could have hurt him (fall down, run into something, etc). He walks around and asks everyone in the vicinity, "Are you okay?" So sweet.
"Noonles" -Noodles
"Chicken" - "Kitchen." It's really cute to hear him tell me he is playing in his chicken.
"Easies"- Earrings. My mother in law likes to wear earrings so she has some in 99% of the time she sees him. Especially when Matthew was younger, he wanted to touch and handle them. She'd let him, but, trying to encourage him to be gentle, she'd say "easy" while he was doing it. He now thinks they're called "easies."
"Fishy Pants"-His swim trunks that have fish on them
"Hopter" - Helicopter
"Red bed" -the sheets on our bed are red, so he'll say "Mashu and mommy in the red bed?" when he wants to go in there and snuggle or jump on the bed
"Nuke" =Milk
"You want" and "Are you??"- He says things this way to refer to himself, presumably from hearing me ask him "are you..." or whatever. "You want nuke?" = "I want some milk." "Are you stinky?" = "My diaper is dirty." It's really funny though when he comes and says, "Mommy, are you stinky?"
"Mommy, are you talking to a beaver?" -He said this to me yesterday morning. I have no idea what it means and I didn't even know he knew what a beaver is (not something we see in Arizona), but it was too funny not to share.
Friday, July 26, 2013
When your child is THAT kid
Do you ever have one of those days? Those days where you don't recognize your own child? When you want to sink into the floor where you're standing or the chair where you're sitting? Where you're SURE everyone around is judging you for being a terrible parent because you belong to THAT child?
I had one of those weeks. Matthew has just been OFF and I've been struggling. Struggling with his attitude. Struggling with what other people must think of him and of me. Struggling that he's not learning as quickly as I'd like him to. Struggling when he displays his little sinful nature for all the world to see. Struggling with my own attitude when it happens.
A friend once told me that the half of any given age is harder than the whole. I agree. 2 was a piece of cake compared to 2 and a half.
Matthew has just been ornery. Just one example is that he landed in time out two or three separate times during one 30 minute swimming class because he just flat out decided not to obey his teacher and she had given him enough grace and was done. He fully deserved it and I was embarrassed. What parent doesn't like to see their child exceed and impress?
Couple that with the fact that he genuinely struggles with the course material, so we beat our heads in a brick wall and I just felt like a flop.
We've all had those moments, and we'll all have them again. It's life. So what can we do when we hit these moments? I have only been a parent for a few years so I can't say I have this all figured out. But this has been what has been helping me this week.
Pray
Pray for God to give you patience with your child and with yourself. Pray for God to open your eyes to new ways to instruct your child. Pray for grace for other parties involved who might be experiencing frustration with your child. Speak prayers of gratitude for them too. Pray for your child, that his heart would continue to be molded into one that wants the Lord, one that wants to obey God-given instruction in his life. Pray for creativity and discernment as you and your child tackle this journey together. Pray for strength and encouragement when you are weary. Speak prayers of gratitude and praise and wonderment to God for this little child who has been entrusted to you. Praying changes your focus, I promise.
Speak Scripture
Speak scripture to your child, and to yourself. Scripture is rich with wisdom. As my friend Diana points out, the Bible is the best parenting book you will ever read so glean from it and use it to teach your child. I find myself telling Matthew, "A cheerful heart is good medicine." And when I say it to him, it echoes in my own ears, too, and I check MY heart and its response to said exasperating situations. I'm reading through this book, and it's a wonderful resource.
Realize your child's limitations
Are there extenuating factors that are exacerbating your child's attitude? Is she overtired? Hungry? Overstimulated? Cold? Wet? Unable to communicate? While I believe an important lesson in childhood is to learn to function even under these circumstances, children ARE still learning this lesson. While it's appropriate to push them a little and help expand their capacities, we need to stop short of setting them up for failure and allow extra grace when there are circumstances beyond their control that are contributing to the problem. Matthew is going to swimming lessons 4 days a week. He's had a few late nights visiting with out of town family we only get to see once or twice a year. He's exhausted. We made the decision to prioritize that extra family time (or whatever) above getting to bed on time, but that means we have to be willing to accept the consequences, which include in our case, a crabby little dude, who generally requires a LOT of sleep. It's fine to break or bend the rules every now and then (for are we under the Law? No!), but make sure grace for your child accompanies that decision. It may also be true that your child has reached his maximum ability for a certain task or skill at the moment. Even if that is short of accurate execution, that's ok. Realize his limits.
Realize that you are not a bad parent
Do you love your child? Do you love the God who made him? Are his needs for food and shelter and clothing and medical care met as much as lies in your power? Is he safe in your home? If you're even evaluating your aptitude as a parent, then it's pretty safe to say you're not a bad parent. I think we're particularly bad at this as Americans, because we have the luxury to play these games with each other and with ourselves. A little perspective helps my attitude a lot. Stop with the mommy guilt and the mommy wars. Relax. We've all had bad days. All of our kids have had bad days. If anyone is judging you, then she is either not a parent, is a parent of a child too young to misbehave, or she is seriously delusional about how perfect her own child is. Most of us are so harried keeping our own kids in line while simultaneously maintaining our sanity, that we don't have time to think about judging you.
Realize it's ok for your child to fail
And along the same lines, it's ok for your child to not be the favorite, or the best at something, or the most likeable, or whatever other superlative you've conjured in your head as a worthwhile goal. This is hard to break free of especially if your child usually is that kid. There's nothing wrong with being that kid, if you keep it in perspective. But that pressure isn't fair to you, your child, the other children involved, or any other adults involved. Learning to struggle, learning to fail, learning to be humble, learning to resolve conflict, learning to deal with being unliked, learning your own limits and capacities for something, learning to lose graciously, learning to be disciplined and corrected are all as important or more important than whatever skill or situation your child is currently attempting. Don't rescue your child from the chance to learn these lessons. Remembering the bigger picture helps makes the momentary embarrassment or frustration a little easier to bear.
Realize that this will soon be a distant memory, and that persistence will pay off
It took 20 lessons, countless hours of practice outside of class, numerous timeouts, some creativity, some tears, some frustration, but our hard work paid off and Matthew graduated the first level of swimming class. I think this is true in life.
Scripture tells us, "...We also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope." (Romans 5:3-4) Take heart that God is shaping your heart, and your child's heart, through this time.
I had one of those weeks. Matthew has just been OFF and I've been struggling. Struggling with his attitude. Struggling with what other people must think of him and of me. Struggling that he's not learning as quickly as I'd like him to. Struggling when he displays his little sinful nature for all the world to see. Struggling with my own attitude when it happens.
A friend once told me that the half of any given age is harder than the whole. I agree. 2 was a piece of cake compared to 2 and a half.
Matthew has just been ornery. Just one example is that he landed in time out two or three separate times during one 30 minute swimming class because he just flat out decided not to obey his teacher and she had given him enough grace and was done. He fully deserved it and I was embarrassed. What parent doesn't like to see their child exceed and impress?
Couple that with the fact that he genuinely struggles with the course material, so we beat our heads in a brick wall and I just felt like a flop.
We've all had those moments, and we'll all have them again. It's life. So what can we do when we hit these moments? I have only been a parent for a few years so I can't say I have this all figured out. But this has been what has been helping me this week.
Pray
Pray for God to give you patience with your child and with yourself. Pray for God to open your eyes to new ways to instruct your child. Pray for grace for other parties involved who might be experiencing frustration with your child. Speak prayers of gratitude for them too. Pray for your child, that his heart would continue to be molded into one that wants the Lord, one that wants to obey God-given instruction in his life. Pray for creativity and discernment as you and your child tackle this journey together. Pray for strength and encouragement when you are weary. Speak prayers of gratitude and praise and wonderment to God for this little child who has been entrusted to you. Praying changes your focus, I promise.
Speak Scripture
Speak scripture to your child, and to yourself. Scripture is rich with wisdom. As my friend Diana points out, the Bible is the best parenting book you will ever read so glean from it and use it to teach your child. I find myself telling Matthew, "A cheerful heart is good medicine." And when I say it to him, it echoes in my own ears, too, and I check MY heart and its response to said exasperating situations. I'm reading through this book, and it's a wonderful resource.
Realize your child's limitations
Are there extenuating factors that are exacerbating your child's attitude? Is she overtired? Hungry? Overstimulated? Cold? Wet? Unable to communicate? While I believe an important lesson in childhood is to learn to function even under these circumstances, children ARE still learning this lesson. While it's appropriate to push them a little and help expand their capacities, we need to stop short of setting them up for failure and allow extra grace when there are circumstances beyond their control that are contributing to the problem. Matthew is going to swimming lessons 4 days a week. He's had a few late nights visiting with out of town family we only get to see once or twice a year. He's exhausted. We made the decision to prioritize that extra family time (or whatever) above getting to bed on time, but that means we have to be willing to accept the consequences, which include in our case, a crabby little dude, who generally requires a LOT of sleep. It's fine to break or bend the rules every now and then (for are we under the Law? No!), but make sure grace for your child accompanies that decision. It may also be true that your child has reached his maximum ability for a certain task or skill at the moment. Even if that is short of accurate execution, that's ok. Realize his limits.
Realize that you are not a bad parent
Do you love your child? Do you love the God who made him? Are his needs for food and shelter and clothing and medical care met as much as lies in your power? Is he safe in your home? If you're even evaluating your aptitude as a parent, then it's pretty safe to say you're not a bad parent. I think we're particularly bad at this as Americans, because we have the luxury to play these games with each other and with ourselves. A little perspective helps my attitude a lot. Stop with the mommy guilt and the mommy wars. Relax. We've all had bad days. All of our kids have had bad days. If anyone is judging you, then she is either not a parent, is a parent of a child too young to misbehave, or she is seriously delusional about how perfect her own child is. Most of us are so harried keeping our own kids in line while simultaneously maintaining our sanity, that we don't have time to think about judging you.
Realize it's ok for your child to fail
And along the same lines, it's ok for your child to not be the favorite, or the best at something, or the most likeable, or whatever other superlative you've conjured in your head as a worthwhile goal. This is hard to break free of especially if your child usually is that kid. There's nothing wrong with being that kid, if you keep it in perspective. But that pressure isn't fair to you, your child, the other children involved, or any other adults involved. Learning to struggle, learning to fail, learning to be humble, learning to resolve conflict, learning to deal with being unliked, learning your own limits and capacities for something, learning to lose graciously, learning to be disciplined and corrected are all as important or more important than whatever skill or situation your child is currently attempting. Don't rescue your child from the chance to learn these lessons. Remembering the bigger picture helps makes the momentary embarrassment or frustration a little easier to bear.
Realize that this will soon be a distant memory, and that persistence will pay off
It took 20 lessons, countless hours of practice outside of class, numerous timeouts, some creativity, some tears, some frustration, but our hard work paid off and Matthew graduated the first level of swimming class. I think this is true in life.
Scripture tells us, "...We also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope." (Romans 5:3-4) Take heart that God is shaping your heart, and your child's heart, through this time.
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