Wrestling Woes and Whimpers

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I received this text message from my sixteen year old son today, “This is the craziest thing i have ever seen”.

He is a wrestler for the high school and was volunteering his time to help run an all day meet; most of the kids participating were 5th grade or below. When he got home at the end of this long day, he was shaking his head and saying again that it was the craziest thing he had ever seen.

“What was so crazy?” we wondered. “Parents.” was his response. Parents provided the crazy in the day.

Parents who:

  • yelled their kids
  • yelled at the refs
  • argued at the refs
  • swore at the refs
  • swore at their kids

He also witnessed one father get in the face of a ref, referenced his judgement with swear word terminology (in front of his small child), then told his son the reason he lost is because of the ref. So that was a lesson that was probably caught. (fyi…had he gotten the one point which was in dispute, the son still would have lost)
There was also this:
A second grade boy who after losing his championship match said “I suck.” His dad said, “Don’t say that” (Nice. Good job, dad) Then the kids said it again, “I told you I do, I told you I suck!” To which the dad replied, “I’m gonna beat your a** if you say that again.” (Ummm…ok, not nice.)

Then there was the preschool boy who was wrestling, was losing and was saying to his mom through his tears, “I don’t want to play anymore”. This made Zach and the other guy at the points table feel bad for this little boy. Zach said, “His parents were riding him way too hard. I mean he was 4 or 5.”

Zach also overheard one adult ref say that he used to think bears were the scariest animals, but then he met pee wee moms. (Ick)

There were upsides though. He enjoyed the hospitality room. Just kidding, well, not really, he actually did say that. But also, there was the parent who came up to the high schoolers at the points table after the dad yelled at the high school ref about the one point, and said “You guys did a good job at that last match.” Nice.

I don’t even know how to sum this up. I guess I just wanted to share the observations of a sixteen year old boy who spent the day with a bunch of cute little kids and several ugly parents.

Pizza with a Purpose

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When Courtney was a high school freshman, my friend Barb gave me some great advice. Courtney had become part of a group of girls that ended up in our basement often. I wondered what to do with these girls ~ wanting to embrace them without hovering. Barb said, “Feed them.”

She went on to tell me to feed them something a little special, something they maybe don’t normally get. Her speciality was home-made milkshakes. Not many people make those anymore so when she broke out the blender the girls at her house felt special.

My speciality became homemade pizza. They loved it, so I made it often. I remember the evening of her junior year prom I made a pizza for after the prom, another family ended up hosting the group of kids at their house but Courtney stopped home and grabbed that pizza to take with her. I would have loved to have had the group here, but I was delighted that a part of me went with her to the other house.

She is now a college freshman, and few weeks ago she traveled to visit her friends for a weekend at their college. I received a text while she was there that said they said they missed my pizza. It made me smile. I replied that I would make it for them over Christmas break.

Tonight my basement is full of girls home from college…along with pans of homemade pizza. I love that the simple act of making pizza impacted them. As moms, sometimes we don’t know if we are doing things that matter, or if anyone even notices. But I think it does and sometimes they do. These girls would be here even without my pizza, it was Courtney’s invitation and presence that brought them here tonight, but something simple that I did to serve them mattered. I like that. Thanks Barb.

Something’s Leaking

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Courtney. My oldest child. My first unconditional love. Strong. Confident. Honorable. Beautiful. Intelligent. In many ways, wired so differently than me. This is good. This will serve her well. This also creates some challenging moments. We don’t have the same path. There are many things that we see differently. Sometimes we outright disagree. Sometimes we even send messages back and forth that challenge each other. Even when it doesn’t feel good, I know this is good too. Sometimes I worry. Sometimes I wonder what has and will stick from growing up within our hearts and home.

She has been somewhat pressed lately, and in that pressing things have leaked out. What has seeped out has been good. Its been strong. Its been confident. Its been intelligent. Its been honorable. Its been beautiful. It’s not been easy. I’m so proud of her. I’m not sure if at her age I would have leaked out such a pleasant aroma. I surely would have been not as mature and certainly less wise.

I think this is an encouragement to us parents. What we pour in (good or bad) does take hold. Its good to be aware of, and intentional about, what that is. I’m beginning to see that our kids take what we give them and they work with it and mold it until it fits them.

Good job, my girl. Your mom thinks you’re pretty terrific.

All is Calm. . .NOT

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I had an opportunity to speak this morning at an American Mothers Christmas Brunch. I took a few moments to talk about how we moms set the tones for our homes and our families…and that the Christmas Season seems to be when the natural tone of our culture seems to one that is frazzled. Below is what inspired my words.

I remember distinctly standing at the stove trying to make dinner, incredibly crabby after a day with young children that seemed to have no end. My poor innocent, hard working husband walked in the door and was immediately assaulted with a barrage of complaints and commands.

He immediately used his large, loud dad voice to begin directing kids – which created more chaos and anger within me. I looked at him and said something along the lines of needing him to come in and be the one to bring the calm and peace (possibly using my nagging wife voice). Again, poor him. Imagine walking in, excited to see your family, you are assaulted before you can even put down your briefcase, you try to help and are assaulted again.

What he said has stuck with me all these years.

He said that I set the tone for the home and that when he walks in the door and I am at full throttle he just jumps in and gets up to speed as fast as he can.

I also remember what I said next, “Well that’s not fair.”

Whether its fair or not isn’t really of any consequence. It is reality. As the mom who stays home all day and manages all that I do to run our family and our home, I do really set the tone. That doesn’t mean he’s off the hook and doesn’t have any responsibility to redirect our course when we are heading towards the guardrail. I mean whose going to jump in the car heading off of a cliff? But he has no control over what he simply walks into at the end of his day – that’s all me. Others (as in my kids) may influence that tone, but as the adult I’m the one charged with directing that influence.

Honestly, some days this feels like too much responsibility. I want to walk in the door and have someone else set the tone…and have dinner ready. (said the mom in a whiny voice) But he’s right, it’s my responsibility nonetheless. There is so little in life we get to control – there are so many influences that our kids face that we don’t even know about. But I do have control over the tone and feel of our home. I get to use these walls and that door as barrier and create a sanctuary for us from the world.

I’m not saying this is easy or comes naturally. In fact, this can be quite challenging on a normal day. And now its December ~ and Christmas is coming. Culture is shouting, SHOP! BAKE! GET A TREE! HANG LIGHTS! DECORATE! PARTY! WRAP! SHOP! SHOP! SHOP! We can easily feel frazzled, overwhelmed and cranky while trying to create memories of peace, family and love. Ironic.

But, what I am saying is that with intention, we can set the tone for which we hope in our homes and families. It takes intention because if I let whatever is going on around me (or even within me) set the course, it could feel chaotic, crabby or even cold.

My encouragement to myself (because I needed this message today) and to you is this – think and pray about the tone for which you are hoping in your daily life and in this season. Then ask for some Holy Spirit whispers to help you achieve that along the way. Whether you have kids at home and the Spirit may need to shout a little, or whether your kids are grown and you will be bringing your tone to their homes over the holidays, as moms, we do indeed set a tone with our families. May it be the one we desire and may it be one that creates the calm and bright we sing of on Christmas Eve.

The Name We Bear

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We had an interesting discussion at dinner the other night. We took a few minutes to allow Erin & Zach to tell Kyler what they were feeling about his latest shenanigan at school. (see previous post) It was interesting to hear their hearts, they both talked about our family name. He was told that since he is the last one to come through the school with our name, the impression he left would potentially be the impression people may end up with when our family name is spoken.

There is also concern that if the only exposure others have of our family is his inappropriate words and behavior than the impression of our family has the potential to be an inaccurate one.

OK…so I have a few things on my mind on this topic.

1. Return with honor. This is on our front door. I hope these parting words mean something to each of us. I believe every time we leave this house we are entering a world where losing honor is tempting and easy. I want each of us to care about our family name. I was touched to hear our family name and reputation mean something to our kids. No matter where you come in the line-up, you will leave behind impressions for others to walk into. Be kind. Be nice. Be wise.

2. We all bear names. Our family name, our company name, our church name, even titles. I remember when my friend Barb heard I was nominated as Indiana’s Young Mother of the Year; she said (lovingly of course) the first time someone recognizes me will be at Target with my hand gripped so tightly around Kyler’s wrist that my finger tips are white! So after we laughed, I thought, Well, that wouldn’t represent the title so well now would it? Caring about the name we bear matters.

3. I have written about this name bearing before. It stinks; I still misrepresent the one whose name I bear. If the only exposure you ever have of Jesus is through me, then it it quite possible that I may not leave you with the most accurate impression of who he is. Through the lens of Christianity, sometimes my words and behavior are inappropriate.

4. May I remember the name of the one who bore it all for me and leave an impression that is pleasant for others to walk into.

A Day in This Life

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Where is the pot? A question I never thought I’d ask a child of mine. But with this life I lead as the newish mother to this almost 13 year old boy, I find myself in situations and saying things I never thought I would, more frequently than I could have ever imagined.

I remember aching for this child while he was apart from us, and feeling full and whole when he was placed back with us. I was overwhelmed with emotion as we sat in the courtroom and claimed him as ours. I was full of joy as over one hundred people celebrated his official new last name with us.

I knew much of what he had been through (too much). I knew it would be hard at times; I had lived through that the first time he was here, when it had become unbearable. I also knew God had brought him back. Someday I will write that story, it is an amazing story that I need to reflect on in days like today, because sometimes I wonder what did we do? And I am instantly reminded it was not we who did it.

I have written about neutral before. As a mom, this is an uncomfortable gear. I don’t feel like a good mom in that place, to some who live in community with me, I may not even appear to be a good mom. (Yep, I struggle with that, but it may be more perceived than real judgment because I don’t even feel good about myself during these times, so how could I think others feel good about me. Again, if I can be “National Young Mother of the Year”, well….just sayin’)

But by the grace of God, in moments when it seems impossible, powerful feelings of love wash over me. In God’s mercy, grace reigns down and floods my heart when it is parched. In God’s sovereignty, peace captivates my heart when peace makes no sense.

Last week we had prescription pills go missing. Today a teacher overheard him talk about smoking pot with a kid at school. This is on top of other behaviors that have restricted his already restricted environment at school even more in the last few weeks.

I feel like I know the darkest parts of this child, parts that most people do not see (or sometime even believe are there) and even I am utterly perplexed by the things he says and does at times. Today is one of those times. (He is way too supervised to actually be smoking pot, but since those are his words, we will play this out and they will search his locker tomorrow. Maybe he will be impacted by the power of his words.)

Last week was good. The previous week was not good. The weekend was good. Sunday night was awful. Yesterday was really good. Even after all that unfolded Sunday evening, (he was full of rage due to some consequences he doesn’t like) I felt so much love for him yesterday and thanked God again for showing up. And then today this happens.

I understand most of the psychology involved, I am even beginning to understand the brain science behind much of it. I read what the therapists give me. I attend therapy with him (and sometimes solo for me). I get it. But I am saying that living it out in this house, in this heart is tough sometimes.

Life is good. I have an amazing sister who helps me process his behaviors because she works with kids like him 500miles away. We have friends who pray for us constantly, friends who pour into him when we cannot, and friends who display love even with all they know. I love our life. I am blessed beyond what I could have hoped for.

We all have trials, we all have struggles; mine are not special. But as I write this blog, as I walk through this year as National Young Mother of the Year, and as I share some inspiring, funny and encouraging thoughts and moments, I also want to be authentic in some of the stuff that isn’t so shiny and pretty.

God is good. All the time. He is Love. He is Grace. He is sovereign. He knows the way. I trust Him still.

A Sober Topic

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Sparked by a conversation with another mom, I asked my kids their thoughts on a teen drinking issue. Their responses were so interesting that I just have to share – I hope this will spark a conversation around your table.

I asked our three older kids what they thought about the situation in which parents allow their teens to drink. There is a philosophy that teens are going to drink anyway, so its safer to have them drink in your home; the belief being that at least you have control over the drinking. (please read the articles linked below on this) I know what I believe about this issue, but was curious to hear the thoughts of our kids.

Courtney (18) immediately said it was not a good idea. I asked why. She talked about how allowing your kids to drink in the home makes the assumption that they absolutely are going to drink, almost leaving no room for them to have the option not to drink. (I am a firm believer of this…people tend to live up or down to your expectations. And what about the kids who really don’t want to drink?)

She also said that once kids feel their parents have given permission to drink they will very likely at some point move that drinking out of the house. If they can handle it in the house, at some point they are likely to believe that they can handle it in other environments as well. Interesting how she sees the slippery slope.

Courtney added that “Respect for the parents might be lost, maybe not consciously, but subconsciously as they realize their parents don’t hold up high standards and don’t expect their children to either.”

Zach’s (almost 16) first response was, “Isn’t it illegal to drink under the age of 21?”. Very astute. He echoed Courtney with “If teens believe they can do it at home then they will believe they can do it other places as well. He continued by saying “If someone asks you if you want a drink, the thought that would run through your mind is Well, my parents already approve…”

Erin (age 13) piped in with “If your parents help you break the law on the drinking issue you may wonder what other laws don’t apply to you.”

I’m not kidding, these were the responses of three teenagers. If I was writing this column based on what I think about the issue, this column would be easy to disregard. But these were the words that flowed immediately out of their mouths.

I drank when I was a teen; it didn’t bring about anything positive, in fact it caused problems. Because of my own experience, there was a time as a young parent, that I believed all kids drink, and there was nothing you could do about it, so just expect it. It scared me as a parent because I thought this was an issue I would have no influence over. Well, guess what? I changed my mind. At some point we decided we would expect our kids not to drink, we would express and talk about our beliefs and expectations, and hope and pray for the outcome that would keep our children wise and safe.

I’m so interested in hearing your thoughts, and your teens thoughts, on this topic. Click the comment button to leave them – talk to your teens and come back here and talk about what you discovered. You can do it anonymously if you want, but let’s talk about it!

Click here and here for two really good articles on this topic.

I found these articles after I wrote this column and was fascinated that our teens responses lined up with the research. I’m not saying we have perfect kids, (we don’t) I’m just saying as parents we have way more influence than we many times believe.

New Chapters

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Its time to report that everything did not change on August 14, 2010.

If I felt everything changed the day she left for kindergarten, then surely everything really would change the day she left for college. The sadness I remember feeling when she left for elementary school surely could not compare to the grief I would feel as she left for college.

I remember the first time it hit me. It was spring break of her junior year. She and I were at the college for a visit. The day was sunny, beautiful and rather exciting. I remember thinking how fun it was to be doing this with her; my parents had not taken me on college visits and I was feeling blessed by the experience.

Then I glanced at her walking beside me and my chest suddenly felt crushed. It came out of nowhere. My throat constricted, my eyes welled up and the first wave of grief crashed into me.
It hit at random times over the sixteen months. The waves came more frequently those last few weeks before the move. One day while on the patio by myself a big one hit out of nowhere. I felt like my heart skipped a few beats and I had a sharp intake of breath, tears sprang to my eyes and I felt consumed as grief washed over me.

With that as my backdrop, I spent little time thinking of the upcoming moving day. The calendar just kept us moving toward it, and then rather quickly it was here. The day we moved her was beautiful; sunny and hot. The college had the whole freshman moving day thing figured out. There was an unmistakable air of excitement. We got almost everything up in one trip, laughed hard as she and I tried to figure out how to make this lofted bed! Even as I helped, I tried to stand back as she figured out where to put her items in her tiny space…so hard for a mom who loves to organize. Then it was time for lunch, then time to meet her lovely roommate and saying a quick hi to her family, off for a Target run, back for last touches and then good-byes.

She was as excited, comfortable, and confident as you could expect. She had dinner plans with Katie, her friend since second grade, and her El Salvador traveling partner. It was good. I was feeling stronger than I expected.

Then her baby sister wrapped her arms around her neck and about broke in two. Oh, oh. Tears sprang to my eyes. . .but grief stayed at bay.

Her 6’2″ brother wrapped his arms around her – practically engulfing her. Pride at these sibling relationships swelled within me. . .and grief stayed at bay.

Even when her dad pulled her in for a hug. . .grief stayed at bay. When I wrapped myself around her I knew in my deepest parts that she would be fine. I was not saying good-bye. I wiped a few tears and knew I was saying hello to this amazingly, wonderful young adult daughter of mine, and new chapters were about to unfold.

I credit God with granting me strength for those moments and the ones that followed. The drive home was quiet for awhile as these siblings took in the new dynamic that would unfold as these three musketeers became the two amigos. It was good for me to be one who was strong and confident in the knowledge that we would all be okay, that indeed we would all be good.

To be sure…I miss her in this house. I miss her in my daily life.I wonder about her more times than I could count in a day. And in all of that, its still good. We parented toward this. She is making friends, being responsible, becoming independent.

Everything did not change, many things did and will. But its kind of like finding out your favorite book didn’t end, there were many more chapters captured in volume two. . .and you just discovered volume two. . .and you cant wait to see where the story goes. . .

(For those of you wondering, yes we have 4 children. We did make some fun arrangements for the youngest to be home where he could experience a successful day and not cause disruption which could have been avoided. Sometimes a mom just has to make decisions like that.)

First Day of School

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Many of us have traditions we follow on this day each year. Most of us mark this day with photos ~ on the porch, on the steps, by the tree, with siblings, new haircuts, new clothes, with friends and neighbors and the dog. So many emotions wrapped up in those photos…with many of those being felt by the ones behind the cameras!

One of the traditions we have is freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, ready and waiting when they walk in the door after school. I set the table, chill the glasses in the freezer, and as we share cookies and milk I hear things like what friends are in what classes, who they had lunch with, first impressions of teachers, if they got lost, how the locker combo thing went and more.

I love preparing for this. When they walk in the door I want them to instantly know I was thinking of them and that I am grateful to sit and soak up every detail of how this new year is looking and feeling to them. Its one way we mark the beginning of the new year at our house.

How do you mark the first day of school? Do you have traditions you would share with us here? Sharing parenting ideas is one of the things that makes us all better moms. Use the comment link to share your ideas. Happy 2010-2011 school year!

My oldest will start classes at college Monday, maybe I will send her cookies in a box? Hmmmm…new territory. Ideas?

Everything Changed on August 27, 1997

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I wrote this on the day in which my first baby left for kindergarten…tomorrow she leaves for college. As I re-wrote it here I realized that at the time, in the place and stage we were, sending her away from me for even half a day was oh so significant. Thirteen years later I am stunned at how similar I feel as she leaves once more. Our kids…they grow and change, but a mother’s heart, well…its always a mother’s heart.

Everything Changed Today

The little girl climbed onto
the big yellow school bus
for the first time today.
As she climbed the large steps with ease
the mother struggled and ached with
each and every step.
When she had taken her first steps,
her mother had clapped and hoorayed,
but then it was into her father’s loving
and gentle arms she had walked.
Today she walks into the unknown.
The outside world hovers ever so near,
looms ever so large…
and a
tear
rolled
down
her
face.

Had she done all she had intended
those first five years?
Was the foundation good and strong
and ready to hold up under forces that
may stand ready to tear it down?
Had she looked her in the eye enough?
Had she held her in her arms often…and long?
Had they laughed enough? Learned enough?
Lived carefree enough?
Would the big world be gentle and caring?
Would her heart, mind and body be
protected and nurtured?

As the bus pulled away, the mother did the only thing
she could, she believed in what she had done. She believed she offered
what she could. She believed in her little girl, believed that
she was strong and would find her own way. And she trusted
in God whom she asked to guide her little girl gently and
return her safely at the end of each day.
Father, thank you for being faithful. For growing me as a mom as you have grown my children. Thank you for loving my girl even more than I. Thank you for opportunities before her. Thank you for friendships you have already formed, thank you for paths prepared. May she return safely to us always. With a heavy but grateful heart,  Amen.