Laying Eggs, Sperm Whales and Adoption... Talking to Your Kids About Sex part #2

Part 2 -  talking to your kids about Sex (read part one here) I apologize in advance for the length of this post...  

So, because we are a little bit of a self proclaimed "nerdy" family who loves science, nature and Lord of the Rings (wait, that doesn't fit? Says who?) we've watched the Discovery Channel, Crocodile Hunter, Animal Planet, Nat Geo etc. together as a family since my kids were born.

Anyone familiar with these shows knows that sooner or later, you're going to see/hear lions mating, chimpanzees nursing, mommy aye-aye's delivering little baby aye-ayes that look like the spawn of Satan (seriously - see one here if you dare) and all sorts of various 'circle of life' moments *cue Lion King music*.

 Instead of grabbing the remote and flipping to Dora Scooby-Doo, we calmly sat there and let our kids see Mother Nature in action.  We figured this would be a non-intrusive way to introduce the facts of life.

Naturally, these moments led to all sorts of interesting conversation topics and comments:

 "What is that Daddy Lion doing?" (perfect cue in to talk about the "birds and the bees"...)

"Mom, was I as hairy as the baby gorilla when I was born?"

"Whoa! That's huge!"

"Did you carry me in a pouch?"

*card from my son on Mothers Day - age 6* "Thanks for not eating me when I was really little. Also, thanks for not making me eat my own poo.  You're the best Mom I ever had!  Happy Mothers Day!"

(Yes folks, it really is that easy to be the be awarded Mother of the Year status.  Take Notes: #1. Don't cannabalize your kid #2 Don't make your kid eat poo. You're welcome.)

and one of my favorite remembered conversations with my then 4 year old daughter...

"Mom, I was in your belly right?"  "Yup, that's right."  "And I was in there for almost a year, right?"  "Yup." "So, how did I get out of your belly???"  *crickets*  "Well..."  *CRAP! Thinking fast under pressure* "I kind of...ummm... laid you... like an egg!" *silence* "Like an egg?"  "Yup, kind of like a chicken lays an egg."  "So, I came out of your bottom?"  "Umm, yes, kind of..." (Honestly, I had no idea where we were going to go with this as I was NOT prepared to talk about this with my 4 year old yet.) Silence and then hysterical laughter as she runs out of the room screaming, "T!!!  Guess what??  Mom pooped me out of her butt like an egg-turd!!!!  Dad! Did you know about this?????? Isn't that disgusting??????  *Laying on floor laughing* hahahahaahahahah!"

Ok, so, I wasn't prepared.  That's my fault. Good thing she didn't share with her Sunday school about it...

Seriously people, we parents have to have a plan BEFORE these conversations come up.

N and T were driving home one day from a "man date" a few years ago, and talking about sharks versus sperm whales (I told you we were a nerdy family) when T out of the blue asked, "Dad, I know that boys have the sperm, and girls have the eggs, but how does the sperm get to the egg?"

I'm fairly certain at this point Nate would have been comfortable with driving the car off the road to avoid this conversation, but instead, he gripped the steering wheel and concentrated very hard on the lane ahead of him.  "So, you're asking me how the sperm meets the egg?" "Yes, Dad. How."  "Well....."

T came home from that conversation, wide eyed and in a rush.  Bounding into the kitchen where I was standing, he said, "Dad just told me about sex. I want kids, but I am not doing that.  I'm just going to adopt." He then scampered from the room to detox from his conversation with his dad, while Nate and I just looked at each other.  Nate shrugged. I, on the other hand, stressed over whether or not Nate had scarred him for life and how much therapy was going to cost in the future.

It was shortly after this talk that I jumped online and bought  "The Story of Me - God's design for sex" and we read them together as a family.

 Now, I'm going to give a disclaimer: I am NOT a licensed parenting expert.  I do not have a degree in child development, but, N and I have worked our dang butts off trying to keep open lines of communication with our kids and feel like we have done a semi decent job in spite of our fear of this topic in today's deranged society.

My point with this post is not to come across as a know it all or expert - which I clearly am not - but as a mom that just wants to encourage other parents who feel ill-equipped, scared or unprepared. I want to encourage each of you to keep at it and share your mistakes and triumphs - we can learn from one another.

As parents, we should be the FIRST people to talk to our kids about sex, healthy sexuality, sexual abuse safety,  pornography etc. Now, keep in mind, this list is by no means an exhaustive one, and each family is going to have their own approach, convictions and beliefs in this area.  I'm just touching on points that we have used with our kids and links to some resources that we've either used or have received positive feed back on. So read on at your own risk. =)

My advice on how to maintain an ongoing healthy conversation with your kids about sex.

#1. Use the real terminology for their body parts and start at a young age.

Since our kids were little, we have always used the scientific name for their body parts.  Partly due to the fact that it annoys me when grown ups say things like "Now, Johnny, don't play with your willy!"  Bah. What will poor Johnny do when he befriends a little boy named William aka "Willy".  How confused will he be?

What about a little girl whose mother has affectionately referred to her parts as her "tee-tee, shi-shi, who-haa" or other various silly sounding names?  Why do her body parts have to have the same nick-names as Kim Kardashians designer dog?  (I'm just guessing on the Kim reference...  but it sounds fairly accurate to me).

Now, calling their body parts by the scientific names has had its bumps too... Like that one time in Target when T made up a song to commemorate his err, penis "willy" and sang it at the top of his lungs.  He was three, but it still caused some raised eyebrows and gasps from customers in the produce department.

Start young, teach your kids the scientific names for their body.  When they are older, discuss all the various slang terminology (this one is tough for a mother of a middle-schooler - trust me) for that specific body part but always bring it back to what it is actually called.  Take the taboo off of talking about their body parts.

The Story of Me: Gods design for sex series

Amazing You: Getting smart about your private parts

The Boys Body Book Ages 7-12

The Care and Keeping of you: Girls ages 7-12



#2. Talk about God's design for sex.

We need to be talking about God and His view on sex often and openly.

Here's the kicker.

It seems as though most churches of today are silent on the topic of sex or approach it from what I call a "red light, green light" stand point.

RED LIGHT: Don't have sex before you're married.  Bad sex, Bad!
GREEN LIGHT:  Ok! You're married now - go have all the sex you want!!  Good Sex, Good!

(Dr Seuss could've had an adult best seller on his hand with that one...)

With the "Red Light, Green Light" mentality and the general silence of churches on the topic of all things sex related, is it no wonder that our christian youth are ill equipped or feel like total failures when they have sex outside of marriage or experience other forms of "sexual failure"?? Whelp, I digress, That's a whole 'nother stream of thoughts that I'll have to come back to at another post.

Our churches might not talk about sex, but the Bible does and frequently.  Ever hear of the Song of Solomon?  Note: Giving your kid a message Bible and a goal to read the Bible in a year DOES in fact include this book... hahahah!

Talking to our kids about God's design for sex, and the very fact that we were created in His image and that human sexuality is perfectly normal in the realm of healthy Christianity is so important.

God created us as sexual creatures who desire intimacy and closeness.

Sex was created to 1. procreate 2. Bring joy and closeness in Mom and Dads relationship 3. Point us back to the total love of the Creator.  As your kids get older, you can go more in depth in these topics...  like timing (what 15 year old is truly ready to procreate??) respecting the other gender... you get the idea. If you're not sure what God's view on sex is, check out some of the links below.


Links

Talk about Sex - Focus on the Family

Sex: God, Gross or Gift? - Marshill Church

How and when to talk to your kids about sex

Almost 12 - the story of sex

The Sex Talk: a survival guide for parents

Elephant in the Room: Gods Design for Marriage, Sex Dating

Parenting & Teaching about Sex


Teaching the healthy Biblical aspect of our sexuality and sex without taboo or fear creates a great platform to discuss my next point.


#3. Talk to your kids about porn - start today!!

Once our kids know about their bodies and what the Bible says about sex, we have to begin teaching our kids what to think about how the world views sex.  In today's normal society, porn is an acceptable and expected form of sexuality.  In fact, you and I have to change our perspective about porn.  It's no longer an "IF" my children will see porn, it's a matter of "WHEN".

I hate that.  I really do.

Porn is, in my book, the single most destructive tool that satan is using against families, marriages, relationships and individuals today. Society portrays porn as "normal", its portrayed as funny, expected, harmless, and "everybody does it".  What it doesn't show are the broken families in the shadow of porn, the husband who no longer finds pleasure in his wife, the silent killer of marriages, the destroyer of respect for human beings, the abuse and destructive cycle that porn perpetuates...

Did you know that the average age of internet porn exposure is 8 years old??  8!!  I expect this age will continue to get younger as parents are giving smart phones to kids at a younger age.

Speaking of that -  Do us all a favor - don't hand your kids a smart phone, tablet, iPad etc for their birthday without knowing exactly what you are giving them.  Set up parental controls, filters, contracts...  Otherwise you are handing your child a ticking time bomb that will wreak havoc in their little minds and in your life.

Listen, if you don't remember anything else, please, please remember this:  The porn industry is LOOKING for your kid.  These moguls have set up a system that literally prowls around, waiting to devour our children, teens, husbands, us...  We need to be proactively setting up boundaries to prepare for that moment when (not IF - WHEN) the porn industry comes to steal away our kids's innocence and replace it with a false reality about sex, women, men, and relationships.  Porn is no respector of persons - porn doesn't care how old you are, how much money you make, what family you come from, if you love your spouse...  porn's purpose is about getting you hooked and coming back for more.  Like a drug that slowly sucks away anything good in your life.  Porn kills.  We need to be ready to combat it.

Start a conversation, bring it up. Bite the bullet and casually ask if they've ever seen any inappropriate pictures on the internet, at a friends house, on an iPhone...

Links:

When Children View Porn - Focus on the Family

Porn Proof Kids

Pornography Addiction: 3 tips to keep kids safe online

5 Ways to monitor handheld devices

Internet Monitoring Software

Parental Controls for Kids Electronic Devices

Freedom from the porn trap

Christianity Today: Pornography

#4. When your kids make a mistake try not to freak out on them

Lets face it, we are all going to make mistakes.  No one comes out of their childhood, teen years or college years unscathed...  did you?  More importantly, when you did make those mistakes, did you talk about them with your parents?  Me.... erm.... NO.  I did not have safe communication with my parents and we rarely talked about anything of importance - let alone sex.

Nate and I have spoken to our kids about our past mistakes, both sexually, socially and spiritually (keeping it age appropriate of course).  We have tried to portray to them that we are NOT perfect people which means that we are naturally, imperfect parents.  In some areas we have failed at this due to some serious legalism that we are coming out of (another future post) and that legalism leaks into our parenting at times.  But, for the most part, we have had some amazing conversations about failures, struggles and worries.  We keep trying to point back to the grace of God and His ultimate love for us, even when we fail miserably.

We all fail, we all make mistakes.  Make it a goal to facilitate open communication in your home.  If you've failed at open communication in the past, don't give up, try again.  I beleive the thing that hinder most of us parents from creating an environment of openness is fear.  "What if I don't like what my kids say?"  "What if I don't agree with, want to hear or understand what my kid is saying?"  "I'm afraid they already know too much..."  "What if they are doing...."   "What if _______ has already happened to them?"

Don't be afraid.  Kick your own butt out of the corner, get back in the ring, You can do this.  We can do this.  I can do this.  Don't be afraid of fear.

Last year, our 10 year old son came home from a swim party and in the car (this is his favorite place to drop F-bombs on us I guess) he asked, "Mom, what's ________?  Some of the boys I didn't know were talking about __________ and ________ and said __________. "  Oh my word.  Now, I did not know what he was talking about, no clue actually, but I knew it had to be super sexual - my ears were ringing, I was fighting the impulse to freak out (rightly so!!) but I knew he was trusting me by asking this question.  As calmly as I could, I said, "You know, I'm not sure. Lets talk to Dad about it when we get home."

 I did it.  A triumph as a mom, I maintained my cool, I didn't let it shake me visibly (Inside I was vomiting in a bucket repeatedly) and when we got home we invited his dad into the conversation.  We were cool calm and collected.  It wasn't until my blonde, blue eyed boy went to bed that I allowed myself to freak out, cry, rage and vent about how angry I was that our kid was exposed to something derogatory at a swim party.  (Oh and you can better believe I had those birthday party moms on the phone that night getting to the bottom of it.)

Warpath.  Me. Face Paint.

The simple fact of the matter is, no matter how diligent, open or careful we are as parents, we wont be able to shelter our kids from every negative outside influence, unfortunate incident or inappropriate media exposure.  That's why daily, day to day, open communication is VITAL.

No kid is exempt from failure.  No parent is free from mistakes.  The key is to keep talking through our failures, keep loving in the middle of our mistakes and reaching out to others when we fall and can't get up alone. My prayer for us is that we keep going, keep fighting, and keep turning to the One who Created us all for help.

How about you?  Any tips to add on talking to your kids about sex?  Ever felt like a failure in parenting?

Share with me, I'd love to hear.

P.S. I have a guest Blogger posting next week and a give away - stay tuned!!

Growing up... it happens to the best of us. Talking to your kids about sex. Part #1

We all start the same way, right?

We are born, naked, toothless, most of us bald - I was until I was 2, my mom used Elmer's glue to pop bows on my bald noggin so as not to be confused with a boy - and totally dependent upon others for our complete and total care. 

Along the journey of life, teeth come in, we graduate from liquids to solids, we learn to walk, talk, identify colors, read, and a plethora of other day to day basics and foundational building blocks.  As we mature, our level of learning advances and delves deeper into this realm we call "life".  We learn about family, money, neighborhoods, government, continents, social hierarchy, mathematical equations, conjugating verbs, and ...  it goes on and on. 

This is all expected. This is how life is supposed to be, right? 

As mother to two kids, this process is HARD. I celebrate my children overcoming milestones and learning new things.  I do...But there is one thing I was not so excited to face.

That would be my kids learning about sex...

There I said "it". 

S--E--X

(the above word will lead to all kinds of interesting traffic on my blog, eh?  If you're a creeper you can leave now OK?)

S--E--X

The three letter word that my very conservative mother would never say and if she even heard it would mutter, "Oh Jesus!" after hearing such profanity.

In fact, the idea of explaining the birds and the bees was such a tough concept that I was 17 before she mustered up enough courage to say.... "There comes a time when every girl becomes a woman..."

Erm....

This, of course, went over SO well with me at that point of life.  There may have been some eye rolling, foot stomping and serious teen sassiness pointed in her general direction. Yup, true story.

The fact was...  She was late.  WAY too late.  She lost the window of opportunity to talk to me about the "birds and the bees" or any other topic of importance really.

I can't blame her entirely though, my mother came from an era of silence.

Sexualized scenarios weren't broadcast all over national television for all to see.  "Sex and the City" and it's cast of characters wouldn't have been shown in neighborhood theaters, actually, it might not have even made it to a slummy brothel.  If a man committed adultery, he would have been ostracized from his community and his name spread through the mud.  A woman with loose morals would have a hard time finding employment, friends, let alone an environment of opportunity.  Innuendos would be shunned from mainstream society and sex wasn't spoken openly.  Most TV shows from my mothers era would show a husband and wife sleeping in separate beds in order not to imply sexuality, not the partial nudity that you can get on prime-time television nowadays. Of course people had sex, but they didn't talk about it.

Fast forward 60+ some-odd years and sex is everywhere.  The coined phrase "Sex sells" is demonstrated in full swing in our society and is unfortunately rubbing off on the youngest of generations.

As moms in today's mainstream over-sexed world, we have our hands full.

It makes me laugh (in a "that's not really funny or fair" kind of way) - as if we moms didn't already have ENOUGH to do - laundry, dishes, shaving our legs, managing chores and household tasks, grocery lists, healthy food researching, working out, dealing with kids, husbands, dogs, neighbors, family re-unions, summer vacations, math homework, science fair projects....

Moms (and Dads) are required to carry the load AND create a safe environment where our kids can come talk to us about their life's questions. Slowing down enough to really listen to the heart behind the chatter and truly see our kids when they come to us.

Me? Well, when confronted with a tough question in the midst of my busy day, I tend to sermonize for 20 minutes without slowing down, taking a breath and listening to what was really asked or said. This can be especially damaging when our kids want to talk to us about serious topics. Topics I don't really feel like they should have to deal with, talk about, know about, think about...  Like sex, drugs, masturbation, porn, abuse, bullying, homosexuality...

But they do.  They know. They talk. They deal. They think.  Everyday. You might not think they do, oh, but they do.

It seems that sooner and sooner the "innocence" is taken from the kids of today.   It's life.  Sad, but true. There's no stopping it.  No keeping kids from it. No moving to a commune to live off the grid like the Ingalls family, miles from town and bad influences like Nelly Olsen, sewing your own clothes, milking your own cow, butchering your own grass fed beef...  What??  Ok, so I've contemplated it. Sue me.

No.

We have to teach our kids how to have the right eyes to view these topics with, give them the tools to understand, process and hopefully navigate through this mucky area. Parents need to get their game faces on, snap the crotch-cups in place and get ready to go down swinging.

I remember the day that we realized that we needed to get our heads out of the sand and into the game.

It started out on a typical Sunday...

On our way home from church, music playing softly on the radio, Nate and I perched in the front seat, wearing our Sunday best, waving "goodbye" to friends in the church parking lot.  (Oh yes, the picture of a perfect Christian family.)

T (who was almost 7) was in a full animated conversation with his little sister.

"So, there is a really bad "F" word..."

Overhearing and being curious as to what he was referring to - I really was hoping it was referencing the phrase "Oh Fudgescicles! Oh Freakazoids! Oh Fart!" - I hesitantly asked him what he meant.

Then the bomb dropped... a kick to the crotch (and we weren't ready - our cups weren't on).

The big, nasty, loathesome "F" bomb came out of that sweet, little mouth seemingly in slow motion.

" F*@#^!!!"

That sickly consonant resonated in the interior of our car and I fought against a near panic attack while white knuckling the door handle.  Nate looked like he swallowed his tie and I'm sure I was a shade of chartreuse green.

There was total silence in the car, even the radio seemed to know something big had just happened and was appropriately playing a soft melody that sounded like a funeral dirge. Appropriate, for our ignorant picturesque parenting facade had just died. Killed. Shot through the heart.

No going back.

Slowly, very slowly, as to avoid any sign of over reaction, and trying not to hyperventilate, we sat in silence for a few seconds. We took deep breaths and started the conversation about this taboo word.  After much talk about using words that we don't know the meaning to, how society creates cuss words and how we represent ourselves when we use cuss words in everyday conversations, my son seemed to catch the point.

That is, until the next Sunday during children's ministry, when T raised his hands during prayer time and said "We need to pray that no one in our class says "F*#^(;"!! - it's not pleasing to God..." - Yes, I am the mother to that little boy that just dropped the mother-of-all curse words in Sunday school circle time... Parent's of the children in that class, I beg your forgiveness... Ya'll don't even know the conversations we had to have to clean that mess up. When a bunch of 6 and 7 year olds go home telling their parents the F word and who they learned it from...  Fun times I tell you.


As time has progressed, I realize how that little conversation sparked something in my family and since that conversation, we've had many moments like that one.... F-Bombs. Where life comes rushing in, stealing innocence and sucks all the air out of the room for a minute.  The F-bomb came into our car and with it came the realization that we can't hide from life and its influences - good or bad.

Each of us starts out the same way.  Little babies.  Dependent and innocent little sinners (what an appropriate oxy-moron). And, at some point, each of us learns about sex.

All of us... 

Look around, every man, woman, teen, grandpa and grandma learned about sex at some point or another in their life.  The question is, HOW did they learn about it?  From whom did they learn about it?  Was it unjustly learned through the vicious act of sexual abuse? From an acquaintance on the playground?  A movie? Book? Pornography? Older brother? Sister?

Or....

Was sex something explained by a parent? In love and open ongoing conversation?


It's all in taking a breath and responding with our cups on to the F-bombs our kids and society drop on us.

What about you? How do you want your kids to learn about the S-word?  Have you started the conversation?   Who taught you about sex?

(Part 2 will talk more about how to talk to your kids about S--E--X and list some great resources).

The Fear of Parenting

Last Tuesday was a rough day...  

We all woke up late (alarm on silent) and I awoke just feeling generally crotchety. My kids woke up in fine form as well...  instant bickering and just pushing their limits. Ugh.

Welcome "The Bickersons".

For some reason or another, the season of facing my past has come, and I am having to uncover and deal with a lot of my past emotional baggage lately.

Quite frankly, IT STUNK.

I am remembering and thinking through things that happened EONS ago.  It's been a struggle as I air my own dirty laundry to myself and lay it before God. Honesty, true and brutal, it's ugly... I'm unwinding the threads of my past, breaking down the walls of resistance, taking responsibility for my life and forgiving wounds I bear that haven't been forgotten yet.

...

Back to Tumultuous Tuesday

I reacted and opened my mouth, spewing out some pretty acrid words and tones. Afterwards, I felt that all too familiar rock settle into the pit of my stomach.

Quickly amends were made, tears shed, arms and hands intertwined as we hugged and "made up", we each prayed, asking forgiveness and walked out the door, feeling like we were "OK".

Still, that rock remained in my stomach.

As I dropped the kids off, watched them walk inside that giant building with their little feet pattering, heads bobbing as they chattered, backpacks thumping on small bent backs, I felt like crying.

Driving home I fought tears.

When I got home, I gave in, sat in my "prayer" chair and let it go. I cried, reasons unknown, and just let the tears flow. As I sat, nestled in the corner of our giant chair, I expressed to God how hard parenting is. Parenting is THE hardest and most complex job on the planet. It's even more cumbersome when you carry your own emotional battles into the realm of parenthood. Parenting is imperfect because WE are imperfect.

I fear being a poor parent.  Making mistakes and scarring my kids for the rest of their lives. Repeating hurts and patterns that I myself endured throughout my childhood.  I fear this... I fear that...

Some of my blog reading has included a serious set of "super-moms"...  Those kind of moms that are "perfect" and seemingly have no such things as a dirty toilet, heaven forbid that they should leave dishes in their sink after dinner, they never let their highlights grow out because they forgot to schedule their hair appointment, their children don't fight, they never snap at their husbands, they have memorized the Book of Proverbs and use it daily in conversation with their perfectly groomed children (see my version of the Proverbs 31 woman)...

Sigh.

I am not one of those.  I will admit it.  Yes, I missed my hair appointment 6 weeks ago and keep forgetting to call to reschedule (Just call me Mama Skunk). No, I will not allow you to see my kids bathroom, partly because its the only bathroom in the house that I chose not to be in charge of, and because my son peed on the floor, apparently shooting down a "giant flying spider" (I am waiting for him to get home from school to pick it up himself).

 I am not perfect.  And I realized sitting in that big chair, that I am NOT called to be that kind of mother to my kids.  I am called to be ME to my children.  I am not to be a parent like my sister, aunt, mother, neighbor, best friend, or fellow saint to my kids.   I am called to bring the qualities and giftings the Lord gave to ME into the lives of my kids.  And I am to raise them according to their bent, not mine or my self imposed set of fears.

Parenting is a naked, ugly, somewhat earth-shattering mirror into our souls.  There are times, I hear myself or see myself when I am dealing with my precious children, that I can see the horrible stain of the sinfulness I carry.  Stains of un-forgiveness.  Impatience.  Lack of love. Loneliness. Comparison. Shards of anger.  Pride. Fear. Shame. Anxiety.

I can't hang onto it any more.  This journey is too arduous to carry all that baggage.  I can feel its time to lay it down and move forward.  I am learning to embrace the Grace of Jesus Christ, learning to let go of my control... and learning that I am perfectly imperfect.

Today, (I am saying this aloud as I type) I chose to overcome my sinfulness as a parent.  I chose to let go of my past.  I chose to be different.  To respond differently.  To seek the fruit of the Spirit in my own life so that it will spill seed onto my family.  I will offer myself some grace.  When I fail, I will make it right and mend those fences. I won't let guilt rule me or my actions.

And I choose to believe this verse when I feel like a failure as a parent...

Is. 41: 10, 13

10. Don’t be afraid, for I am with you.
    Don’t be discouraged, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you and help you.
    I will hold you up with my victorious right hand.
13.For I hold you by your right hand—
    I, the Lord your God.
And I say to you,
    ‘Don’t be afraid. I am here to help you.

(I love that the title of Chapter 41 in the Message version is entitled "Do you feel like a lowly worm?") Man, somedays I really do...  =)

It makes me feel so much better, that even today, when I got onto my son and then felt like a Schmuck when he went off to school, that the Lord is there, holding my hand, telling me not to be afraid...  He'll be right along side me as I journey through this parenting thing...  Instructing, loving, and holding me. 

Much love to you all, 

Mrs. Learning Not to be Afraid of Fear

What is your fear in parenting?  How do you overcome it?  What verses do you cling too as you travel the road of parenting? 

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Parenting Resources

http://www.empoweringparents.com/

http://imom.com/parenting/

http://www.focusonthefamily.com/parenting.aspx

http://www.handsfreemama.com/

http://www.weirdunsocializedhomeschoolers.com/2012/05/having-heart-for-your-kids.html?m=1

Step 1

We had a lady named, Bonnie Miller speak at my church on Sunday.  She wasn't the atypical speaker that I was used to listening too, but man, when I honed into what she was saying...  her words really touched my heart and I knew that this tied into what I was hoping to accomplish with this blog.  If you have 30 min, check out her teaching here.  (if its not there yet, it will be loaded later today)  Like it or not, the words that we speak aloud are sown into our spirits...  or even more ...  the spirits of others...  and the scriptures say, "that which we sow we will reap..."

I've been convicted when I stop to listen to myself speak. In the past few days I heard myself say... "It will never happen!"  "You're driving my crazy!"  When my husband told me I was beautiful, I shook my head "No" at him,  "I'll never get it done in time..." "I'm no good at this..." "What if it never happens?"  

Whoa.  Is it any surprise that I struggle with self esteem, patience, inadequacy and worry?  That's all I'm used to speaking aloud.  To myself.  About myself.  Its almost as though on autopilot I say these things aloud and sow seeds of nagging worry, despair, anxiety, impatience and low self esteem into my spirit.  And what are my words sowing into the lives of my precious children?  My wonderful husband?  

Its easy to compliment others, "You look so pretty today!"  "Thanks for your help!"  "You're important" "I really liked what you had to say..."  but WHY, oh Why, is it so hard to say those things to the very people who live in close quarters with me and share the same DNA as I???  

I've worked very hard the past few days saying things to my family like, "Wow, I really like your perseverance, but the answer is still NO!" as opposed to "Are you deaf?  I said N.O.!!!!!"  "Thank you for your help, I really appreciate it, even if that butter glass did get broken..." Instead of, "What do you think you're doing!  Look what you did!!"  "Thank you for cleaning the kitchen!  What a help you've been to me today" instead of, "Oh, you forgot to do...." "I think you're wonderful."  "I'll always love you." "I can do this!"  "Thank you God for helping me!"  

Its been hard.  My gut instinct is to vomit out my negative projectiles and shoot down those closest to me and to continue to maim my own spirit.  But, I can imagine, just as it is with anything, practice makes perfect.  If I can instinctively sow positive thoughts and promises and statements from the Word of God into my life and the lives of those around me...  Why, I think it would change my entire universe.  

So.  I'm kicking my mental butt into gear...  

If you see me muttering to myself down the aisles of Target, don't pull out a straight jacket and incarcerate me yet...  I'm just re-booting myself.  

The Real Woman's Journey Through the Valley Of Fear

I never would have made a good pastors wife. I tried for a few years, but my mouth got me in trouble.  I talked too openly or said too freely what I was thinking - politically correct or not... I once was told by a Pastor that my husband and I needed to "not be so transparent, to retain an air of "mystery" in our ministry to be successful."

Erm.  I am many things, but mysterious is not one of them.  Seriously.

At the time, so hungry for investment into my life and ministry I blindly took that comment and went forth.   What a bungling mess I made, and the end result of it was, trying blindly to hold on to an image of perfection and "mystery", I stopped talking.  I stopped being true and real.  Relatable.  Relevant. Myself.  

In the past years since then, I hunger for realness.  I am drawn to those in ministry who are real, who talk about their experiences through life via their trial and errors.  I like those who speak candidly. Those who find the humor in their life circumstances and can point to God with a smile, even in the middle of a dung pile and laugh about it. I am turned off by speakers who talk in generalities and never really say anything at all, or those who give no personal examples of triumph or failure.  I like it raw.  I like it real and I like it to be practical.  

Don't get me wrong, sometimes those conversations are the ones we shy away from.  It can hurt to be real.  Its vulnerable to be raw and open.  But when we are real and open with others about our struggles, our victory, our pain, our happiness, we can share the true meaning and message of Jesus Christ himself.  Look at the scriptures...  When Jesus walked on the earth, He was so terribly real that He threw the Pharisees into a tizzy... They didn't want Jesus to talk to their people about prayer, a Savior, how to treat their neighbors, how to avoid sin, or list the deplorable acts of sinful behavior of the people and then tell them how to be forgiven...  No, they would rather He stay "mysterious" and "unattainable" much like their version of a Savior - a royal King, sitting on a throne in a far off land, clothed in silks, jewels and finery, and surrounded by body guards... 

Now, I'm DEFINITELY not Jesus.... HA!  But I am taking a cue from Him.  I want to be real.  

I am a real woman.  I argue with my husband sometimes.  I yell at my kids occasionally. I have piles of dirty laundry that I procrastinate in doing. I feel like a failure at times. Sometimes dishes sit in my sink for a while.  Sometimes I only clean the top of the toilet seat when I'm in a hurry.  I wear a hat to cover up the fact that my hair is greasy.  I get pimples.  I cry.  I compare myself to others and struggle with inadequacy.  I desire to pray every day, but sometimes get so bogged down with life (aka laundry and toilets) that I don't have the energy. I get afraid of lots of things. I get lonely.  I really want to know the Lord better and struggle with the enormity of that thought at times. 

Enter "The Real Woman's Guide Through the Valley of Fear" aka my self titled blogging about fear.  

Not gonna lie.  I'm scared to even begin blogging about fear.  Who am I to do this?  What if I mess it up?  What if I take something out of context?  Mrs. __________ could do it a lot better than I.  What if i give up in the middle and you all think I am a loser?  What if? What if?  

 But we should want to openly journey through fear together and hope that somewhere along the way, we stop being afraid of fear.  

Get a grip

Opening scene:  a dark shadow flits across the screen.  Camera pans to a frightened face, screaming is induced.  A ghastly figure dominates the room.  Evil is presented and seemingly conquers its victims. a little boy whispers, "I see dead people..." Blood.  Darkness.

Scary movies.  I hate them.  Actually, I hate being scared, period.

Once, as a teenager, my date and I went to a haunted house.  Oh sure, I was shaking inside, balking at the thought of going  into the darkness and seeing lord knows what...  But, the tickets were payed for, I was dressed to impress, I could do this.

No.

 I made it about 10 steps inside before someone jumped out wearing a mask and wielding some sort of sharp dungeon like instrument and it was over. Not caring about the crowd around me or the unsightly figure in front of me, I literally jumped on my dates back (poor boy), piggy back style, buried my face in his back and wept.  He staggered and buckled under my weight, but I was not letting go.  I was afraid. We exited the building as soon as he could find a way out, my make up running, his back wet with tears and saliva.  Actually, now that I think about it...  He never called me again.

(Sorry dude.  Obviously it wasn't meant to be)

Since then, in light of the over abundance of scary movies on the market (remember when they only came out around Halloween??) I've since learned to limit my fear in a Hollywood sense.  I don't allow myself to watch scary movies, read thriller books, or even watch things that stress me out (i.e. CSI, SVU etc).  There is no desire in me to be looking in dark corners, or hearing creaking noises under my bed in the night... I already have an over active imagination as is... read here for more details.

 Having said that, if I've conquered the Hollywood fear, why is it that I am still afraid?  One of my continual struggles is fear. Not fear of dead people, ghosts or noises (though if my husband goes out of town I may have every light in the house on), but regular ole fear.  Fear of rejection.  Fear of failure.  Fear of Spiders.  Fear of lack.  Fear of not being a good mom.  Fear of something happening to my kids. Fear of singing. Fear of Scorpions.  Fear of forgetting to put my pants on before I go to church (oh wait... that's a nightmare)

 Fear...  fear... fear...

It comes out in mental moments more than it does in the movies.  There's no screaming in the background of my mind, random blood stained person in my shower or a man wearing a Jason mask.

No, its just that nagging, "what if" that invokes more fear than the above mentioned things.

(If there was someone in my shower, why, I'd like to think I'd down her with a bottle of rave hairspray, my curling iron and a loofah).  

Ahem.

I read recently that "Babies are naturally born with two fears. A fear of falling and a fear of loud noises. All other fears are learned by association and identification".  

Say what??

Yup.  All those things I fear now on a daily basis, somewhere along the line, I was taught to fear them or I became a product of my environment. 

I'm done.  I really believe that we are being called to identify our fears and move on.  To outgrow some of these mental battles that we struggle with.  I'm tired of being afraid. I'm tired of living bound up by thoughts of "What if"  "No... don't" "What if" "what if" "what if".  

I had an idea the other night, (it could have been bad sushi, but... I'll press on and see what happens) to take a Bible verse on fear and write about it every day.  To really get God's word about fear into my psyche and see some changes made by the power of God.  There are, apparently, over 500 references to "Fear Not" and "Fear" in the Bible.  That's over one verse for every day of the year... 

So. I'm going there.  Want to come with me?  I've got to GET A GRIP!  










   

The BEST soup ever. Seriously

My sweet little girl is sick with the flu...  a high fever, chills and the aches. 

As a "natural" girl (aka Hippie) I am giving her lemon/ginger/garlic tea, spraying her pulse points with fever spray, and giving her lots of TLC. 

As I am sure you do, any time my kids are sick, I pull out the arsenal of soups and other sick foods.  So tonight, I thought I would share with you our family's favorite chicken soup.... 

We learned about this recipe from my sisters church in Amarillo Texas, Trinity Fellowship. Along with a great resource of sermons, they put out a magazine called "Connect".  Included in this edition was a recipe for "Chicken Tortilla Soup".  Oh my word.  It's so yummy....

Ingredients:

2 TBS Olive Oil
3 Pre roasted chicken breasts (Chopped) ***  See note on how I do my chicken...
Salt & Pepper
1 TBS ground coriander
1 Lg onion (quartered & thinly sliced)
1 Lg red bell pepper (quartered & thinly sliced)
1 jalapeno (seeded & thinly sliced)
1 28 oz can fire roasted diced tomatoes (Be sure to get fire roasted - they add SO much flavor)
1 QT low sodium chicken broth
1 Bag white corn tortilla chips
1 cup shredded pepper jack cheese
Optional toppers
1 avocado (diced)
1 lime (juiced)
4 scallions (chopped)
handful of fresh cilantro leaves (coarsely chopped)

Heat a large stock pot with olive oil over med-high heat. Add onions, bell pepper, and jalapenos; season with salt and pepper to taste. Cook 5-7 minutes, stirring frequently.  Add chicken and coriander. Add tomatoes and chicken stock; heat through (I let mine simmer on low for about 25 min).  While soup is cooling, toss the avocado with lime juice. Lightly crush some tortilla chips and divide among 4 bowls.  You need a couple handfuls per bowl. Top the chips with a little cheese. Top the chips with ladles of soup. Garnish soup with cheese, avocado, scallions and cilantro.  Add an extra squeeze of lime juice or a dollop of sour cream if desired.

YUMMOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!


And here is the recipe for the roasted chicken.  It is so easy and flavorful that I normally make extra of this chicken and store in fridge to be used in an assortment of meals.

Lemon Marinade Roast Chicken

1/2 cup fresh squeezed lemon juice
2 Tbs dijon Mustard
1 cup olive oil
4 chicken breasts

whisk together lemon, mustard, oil, salt and pepper.  Place the chicken breasts in a shallow paking dish in a single layer.  pour 3/4 of the marinade over chicken (reserve other portion for storage later) If you have time, allow chicken to marinate for 1-2 hours (I never have time... so I skip this step).  Pre-heat oven to 375. Roast chicken for 30-40 minutes or until done. 

Let me know if you try it! 

xoxo
Janelle

Dreams, life and other musings

So, I swear my blog does a time warp. 

I sign on, write a post and about 30 years later I sign on and write again. 

Yes, hello, I am now living in a retirement community in Arizona, with blue tinted hair, wearing a visor, velour running suit and driving a golf cart as my main transportation to my bridge and rummy games. 

Nah...  Life just happens sometimes and blogging doesn't. 

For this reason, I am forcing myself to sit down and write before another 30 years passes and my velour running suit has been traded for an open backed hospital gown, a motorized wheelchair, and one of those emergency push button necklaces a'la "I've fallen and I can't get up" style...

I digress.

Where was I?  Ah, yes, I was forcing myself to sit down and write.  Right? (Write?)

Write.

It's been an amazing few months.  So many wonderful changes happening in our life. 

Oh.  Wait.  I think I now know why I think of blogging as a daunting task.  If you only write once every 30 years then you have to write an auto-biography. It hurts my brain to find the content to fill 3,003,597 pages to catch everyone up on the current time in my life. 

Consider this the Readers Digest Version of the past 30 years.  (Do you remember your mom reading those?  If I confess to reading them now, does that mean I am like my mother? Lawl...  Help us)

Write. Right. 

Back to the current view of our life. 

Are there things in your life that you've always wanted to pursue?  Dreams that you've had hidden in your heart since you were a wee thing?  Talents that have been gifted to you that you'd like to explore? Have you pursued, dreamt and explored all the options in your life?

Have you?

We took the plunge a year ago and stepped out of our comfort zone - we stopped working for a church.

In the 10 years we've been married, we have always worked for a church/church school, etc in some capacity.  Working for a church was wrapped up in our identity and in our feeble minds tied us to our salvation. After coming to terms with the fact that we may have been pursuing something that wasn't quite our niche, we stepped down from our positions and began living life - just plain old ordinary non ministerial life.

We were lost for a while, high in faith, but lost in action.  What did we do?  How did we serve God in a non "ministry" capacity now? Who were we outside of the church or a church position?  What did God have for us now?

My husband took a job working a field he has always loved with hopes that he would soon advance, and I adjusted to life being plain old me - no titles (not that I ever really had one anyways).  We began searching our hearts and opening areas of thought that we had shut closed or just plain forgotten about.

We adjusted to life not feeling obligated to go to this event, or stay and volunteer at such and such, and, sometimes, we slept in and watched service online, or when our kids were sick didn't make them go and sleep on a back pew while we took care of business.

As the time went by, my husband has found his niche and talent in his job.  He is passionately pursuing and walking through doors that open for him in his line of work.  He is happy.  He is moving forward. He is growing.

and...

I wasn't.

After much despair of not knowing what God wanted from me, I began a season of my life where I felt idle. Like I needed to be doing something. SOMETHING!  But what? Where? Who?  When? I raged at God.  I would fold clothes, feeling completely inadequate and small, and yell at Him through my ceiling. "WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME???" I pleaded with Him in the dark of night, while my husband slept soundly, fulfilled from the path he knew God placed him on. Tears would drip onto my pillow as I mouthed into the darkness, "Who am I? Who am I?" I'd listen to and support my man as he told me excitedly about his day. I would watch my husband go happily to work, and when I shut the front door, would fight resentment that I was left alone and still didn't know who I was outside of the four walls of my domestic domain.

Life finally caught me.  It came on me in the form of my 30th birthday. I woke up one morning feeling like I couldn't breath... Suffocating.  Gasping. Reaching.  Searching.

I gave up.

I asked for help.

I met with a wonderful mentor in my life, talked with a dear friend, and my husband and I met with our Pastor.  I left all the facades of perfection in the car, and for small moments, opened my weak and broken heart and let them see me. A bag of bones, a mind of insecurity and a life of fear.

It saved my life.

Actually, it saved my sanity.

Just being honest about where I was poked a hole in the dark night that threatened to overtake me.  I kept walking towards that pinprick of light and determined to keep jabbing and smashing at the darkness till the light would illuminate more and more of my life. God started to work on me. I stopped trying to be hyper spiritual about things.  I began to accept things as they were, not offering or trying to dive into any lengthy explanation of mumbo jumbo. Life just was.  And it was what I was making it. Or, rather, what I was NOT making it.

One day, the beginning of this year, God moved.  Unexpectedly and suddenly.  And here I stand today. In a better place mentally, spiritually, and emotionally than I have been in a long time.  I'm real. Flesh and bone, smiles and frowns, love and hurts, and it feels good.  I feel present.  I'm aware of my surroundings and I like it.  And, best of all,  I can see a path that God is guiding my feet to, opening doors that He has set in motion for me.

I don't know what tomorrow holds, but I know God has placed in each of us dreams, desires and passions that only we can fulfill.  We are each called to use our talents to change our spherical world. Are you using yours?

 If I, of all people, am given an opportunity to pursue something I love, than nothing should stop you from pursuing your place as well.  If I can do it - you can.

What's holding you back? 

Month of Love

Its February...  The Month of Love... Well, every month should be one filled with love. But for some reason, there is an emphasis on the month of February... Maybe to give us something to look forward to after Christmas and the slew of holiday parties.

This February, my husband and I decided to show extra demonstrative love to our kids.  Our thought process was this: Our 9 year old son needs to learn how to "romance" and our 8 year old daughter needs to learn what "romance" looks like.

My husband has always struggled in the romantic arena, and actually, when we got married, I was told not to expect roses on Valentines Day. I've had to push hard and drop hints even harder, but the Hubs is so much better and has surprised me many times.

So, needless to say, this month of love will benefit ALL of us.

Here are some of our ideas (and some that we've picked up through others doing a similar thing with their children).

We didn't want to spend a ton of money, but wanted to really invest and put some "love" memories in their love banks.  In every note that we write our children, we tried to make each note personal and uplifting, offering words that would bless our children, not only for the moment, but for a lifetime to come.

1. Grab a book of special interest to your child/spouse and write a personal inscription on the front page.
2. Give a box of conversation hearts with the note, "I love our heart to heart conversations, they mean the world to me..."
3.Give a chocolate heart with a note, "Your smile melts my heart" or "You've captured my heart".
4.Give a packet of trail mix/nuts with a note that says "Your parents are NUTS about you"
5. Blow up a packet of balloons with a smidge of confetti and personal note inside.  Have your child stand holding a push pin and pop each "love bomb" as you gently toss them their way.  (Our kids loved this so much, they want to do it every day.  They loved being showered with confetti and scrambling to read their special note out loud.) If you don't mind the mess, leave the confetti on the floor in their rooms for a day or two.  Every time they walk in and see the confetti, they will have a smile on their face.
6. Tape a quarter to a note that says: "My life is richer because you're in it..."
7. Give gift vouchers that are itemized, we used the 5 love languages book to inspire ours. For example:  Redeem your gift of Quality Time by doing _________ together. (Let your child write in the entry)
8. Give your child a written clue that will lead her/him on a scavenger hunt to find a small box filled with things you love about them. We called it our "Treasure Hunt - because you're the greatest treasure we've been given".
9. Give a "Get out of Chores FREE" card.  This card may be redeemed once in the month of February. (use the extra time to spend doing something your child likes to do...)
10. Put a packet of "Pop rocks" in their lunch box (gasp! I know! Sugar!!! In their lunch?? They loved it!) with a note taped to it saying, "You're a ROCK star just because you're YOU!"
 11. Write a special note on the bathroom mirror in lipstick or dry erase marker for them to see when they get up.
12. Purchase a little kid friendly seed kit (they normally have these pre-assembled at your local home depot) with a note that says, "My love for you grows and grows..."

I'm still coming up with more ideas, if you have any, please feel free to share in the comments section! I'd love to add them. =)

What's been amazing is, we are on day 7 and I've been so surprised at the love my kids have freely offered back.  I've had notes slipped into my purse from my son, left on my pillow from my daughter, and love notes written on a surprise cup of Starbucks from my husband.  Our family is definitely feeling the love... Hope yours does too.

Happy LOVE month!

*tap tap* Is this thing on?

So, I haven't written a blog in like, I don't know, half a century and now I am about to write a whiny one.

Great. 

I'm sure you're so pleased.

Well.. 

Get over it.  =) 

This can't possibly be worse than reading about the political spectrum, the newest tax hike, football player foul up or the newest antics of those Kardashian airheads...  Well... If it is, then I apologize in advance and I'm worse off than I thought.

Today was a hard day.  Well, it's been a hard few weeks.  But, that's not what I'm writing about.

Wait, what am I writing about?  Oh yeah, I'm whining.  Let me get back to it then.

My top 'whines' are:

1. Change.  It's HARD.  Especially for me, a control freak, who likes to play God and position everything in my life just as I like it.  It's so easy for me to have faith when I can see where I am headed or have some grand scheme in mind as I play the chess pieces of my life.  Can I get a "Leave it to Beaver" Mrs. Cleaver reprieve??  No?  OK... Sigh.  FINE! We have a lot of changes coming to the surface in our life right now.  And, don't get me wrong, I can SEE with my control-freaky eyes that these changes are going to be GOOD and that they come from God.  But, what I'm finding is that there are good days where my faith is buoyant and I can rise above the swells of fear and unbelief and then, like today, sometimes there's a need to scrape myself off the floor of despair (with a pampered chef spatula) and pour myself back into some form of faith.  At times that faith is as small as this ( . ) but apparently that's all we need.  I'm believing God.  He is who He says He is.  (My daily mantra)

2. Parenting.  THE HARDEST JOB EVER!  We are in a new phase of parenting.  I don't know what to do with myself.  I'm not ready for this.  Can I lock myself in a closet till they are 45?  No...  right.  That would be weird and totally not ok for me to do... right?  Right.  Ok, moving on.  I feel totally unprepared and a little isolated in this stage of the game.  I NEED a new plan.  The plan that worked when my kids were 0-5 years old is not working anymore.  I find that the older my kids are getting, the more worried I am about them, the more prayers I throw up to ceiling about them, my heart breaks more frequently over them, and I find myself willing the world to slow down and stop spinning so fast so I can enjoy this time and catch a breath with them.  And this is where I'm slowly losing sanity.  I'm thinking of connecting a group of ladies with kids in the same age ranges as my own (6 - 10) and starting an online "support" group.  We could share tactics, prayers, worries, key moments, fresh tools and our own battle worn experience.  Its essential that we share and help each other.  And BOY could I use some fresh perspective right now with my kids.  Thoughts? 

(I'm noticing a pattern with the CAPS key in this post...)

3. Bullies.  This should go under 'whine' #2 but I feel it deserves its own number.  I ABHOR bullies.  Kids/teens/adults that feel like they have the right to pick on someone about the way they look, talk, walk, eat, laugh, or do anything else should be taken out and spanked.  I don't care if you're 92 years old.  If you have such a warped spirit towards others you need a paddle taken to your behind.  T came home today with a note from his teacher that he had gotten a talking to in class about speaking out of turn and acting like a clown.  When I asked him about it, this little tiny voice came out of his normally bold mouth and said, "I was trying to make them laugh and forget about teasing me..."  With a little further prompting, it was discovered that three kids in his class have been whispering about him and teasing him openly in front of his class mates.  About his clothes (which I buy, so I know they are hip), the way he walks (?), and his big eyes (My son is THE handsomest boy in his class.  Really.  I would say so even if I WASN'T his mom.) I wanted to go Kung-Fu panda on these kids and to swoop in and wash their mouths out with soap. I refrained.  Instead, I watched my little boy cry while he told me about it and felt my heart get ripped out and stomped on by some degenerate little 4th grade punks in the second row of room #71 who probably watch MTV and kick puppies for fun. We prayed about it and I gave a sermon on the mount about lies from satan, garbage, knowing who we are, confidence, num-chucks and pepper spray (well, something like that) and T walked away feeling a little better.  I, on the other hand, immediately went and vigorously vacuumed the living room to release some steam.  It didn't work that well (although I was able to get the glitter out of that one spot on the carpet.)  This is going to require some extra fervent prayers and I will definitely have to work on teaching my son how to 'pray for his enemies'.  I'll have to practice for a little while first.   *Ahem

#4. Christmas.  I LOVE Christmas.  I do.  Truly.  I can't wait till July when I have permission from my husband to listen to Christmas music for one day.  Or walk through Hobby Lobby's big "Christmas in July" sale and buy stuff for the upcoming season.  I couldn't wait for Christmas to get here.  I lobbied and picketed for the right to put my Christmas tree up in the middle of November (I lost that battle. Mr. Scrooge promptly saw to that) I lit my Balsam Tree Candle in October and put a bunch of candles around one of my little potted plants to pretend it was a real Christmas tree (ok, I didn't, but I did THINK about doing it).  So, will someone please tell me WHY now that Christmas is almost here and all my festive items are out, the house is bedecked, the crooners are singing away about "Silent Nights' and 'Winter Wonderlands' and I don't feel anything??  Not even a spark of Christmas spirit.  None.  NADA.  Zilch.  I really didn't want to put that out there, I'm afraid I am going to get a lump of coal in my stocking (Or reindeer poop on my pillow).  What in the world is the matter with me? I'm praying and meditating on the Advent and birth of Christ (so as not to get lost in commercialism and materialism) and I can't muster it up.  All those great Christmas crafts I saved in my 'inspiration' folder are just sitting there.  I feel like I'm messing Christmas up for my kids.  I am Ebenezer Scrooges Great Grandmother.  (BTW Don't let your kid watch the new Christmas Carol.  It scared ME so bad I almost peed).  What do you do to get in the Christmas spirit?

#5.  Super Moms.  Oh, you know who I am talking about.  THOSE moms who manage to find time to press their designer duds, manicure their hang-nail free fingertips, take their kids to ballet, football, art-classes, band class, soccer practice, violin practice, piano practice, pottery class, kazoo class, weaving class, finger painting class...  AND still find time to shave their legs.  I don't get it.  I got so busy two weeks ago that laundry piled up and I didn't even notice until my little boy said, "Mom, I really don't have any clean underwear."  You KNOW that's a bad sign coming from a little boy who will wear them inside out to get more wear out of them.  I even forgot to shave my legs until I noticed my jeans were all tented up from the hair poking up and out in the inside leg.  Goodness.  It's a wonder my husband finds me the least bit attractive.  I follow a few blogs (now, don't go looking through them to find out who I am talking about) where these ladies just post the most delightful things, the cleanest rooms, the most sparkling floors, and their latest 15 hour intricate paint by numbers project.  I look at their life and instantly compare mine to theirs and that makes me MAD. I want to throw my computer onto my floor and stomp on it (until I realize that doing so would mean I would have MORE mopping to do.)   I don't want to read a blog about how perfect your life is.  I want to hear the blood and guts and how you're going to lose your mind if one more rice crispie ends up smashed in your sheets or how you got bearded dragon poop stains out of your sons shirt (True story - try dawn dish soap with a little bit of bleach).  I don't want to read about Barbie and Ken in the Mattel mansion.  It's at the point where only truth will do for me.  Fake people creep me out. 

Wheww...  Well, since there were no pictures in this post I'm not even sure if you made it this far.  But, it felt good to cry, laugh, joke and purge.  I need to be more honest in my life and situations.

So if you made it to this line.  Thanks for reading.  I promise I won't wait so long next time and explode all over your google reader.

Mastering Time

Have you ever struggled with one thing?  Every day? Your whole life? 

I struggle with time. 

Time has mastered me.  I, however, have not mastered time. 

This has been a constant source of disgruntlement for me.  And, since I married the man who is late if he's on time... well...  you get the picture. 

It's a character flaw.  My dear sweet hubby pointed this out to me.  Wow.  I'm already known for being hard on myself, and having a "flaw" pointed out by the man who knows and loves me most...  Well, it hurt.  Like spikes through the heart, poking out your designer t-shirt, hurt.  What miffed me more was, it was true. Its been chafing at me since.

Growing up, my parents were very lax with disciplines, boundaries, expectations and most everything else.  They vacillated between being too lax or too stringent.  Once I remember getting "grounded till Jesus comes" and my prior non existent curfew was set for 7:30 pm (on a Friday no less). I was 16 - this was excruciating.  There weren't very many consistent rules in my home.  As I got older, I vowed that I wouldn't make the "mistakes" that my parents did, or parent in the same way.  I was determined that I wouldn't be a product of my environment.

I'm a grown up now - I must take responsibility for my actions.

Fast forward to today and I am a parent myself.  A young parent no less.  I have been striving to raise my kids in a climate that would be opposite of what I was raised in.  In some areas I've excelled and others... well, lets just say I'm breaking habits.  And God is bringing a lot of residue to the surface that needs to be dealt with.  One of these areas is my lack of discipline with time management. 

I'm smart enough to know being late for work is a no-no.  And my kids weren't late to school one time last year (no kidding!).  So, I got those down...  But... anything else?  I can be counted on to be exactly 5-7 minutes late.  Fashionable? Maybe.  Rude? YES!  And the worst part - I KNOW it.  Ugh.

Example: Sunday mornings I will go through the list of what I need to do to get ready as I lay there hitting my snooze.  As I pound the snooze every 10 minutes, I cross something off that list.  5:55 am - Well, I won't curl my hair today.  6:05 am - Ok, I'll wear the shirt that doesn't need to be ironed. 6:15 am - I'll just throw my hair back in a pony tail.  6:25 am - CRAP!   Rush Rush Rush - fly out the door to my family waiting in the car as they watch me hobble with one shoe on, carrying the other shoe in my hand that is clasping a bracelet on my wrist, and buttoning my shirt, all at the same time. It's a bad example.

When I get in the car, 6.45 minutes behind schedule, I enter into the realm of silence.  Nate gives me one disparaging look that says, "You're killing me Smalls. Really."

Want to hear a funny story?  Well, it's funny now.  At the moment it was anything but.

Enter the fairly newly married couple with a newborn baby boy. 

One Sunday morning, as the Wife is racing around to get ready, (after hitting said snooze button multiple times) the Husband decides that he is tired of waiting, and doesn't want to be as late as the Wife is going to make him.  So he hollers up the stairs.  "I'm leaving... see you there!"  The Wife, in her panic to hurry, is in her walk in closet when the Husband says this, and doesn't hear him leave.  True to form, about 7 minutes later, the Wife appears, frantic and harried, but clothed and semi decent, to discover an empty house.  The Wife immediately starts muttering under her breath and stomping around.  Tucking the baby boy into his car seat and nestling his car seat in the back seat of the Expedition, the Wife slams the door, still muttering. 

Now, the fairly newly married couple lived quite a ways from their church, and had to travel a relatively long distance via the highway.  As the Wife guns the gas and merges onto the highway, she notices that in her haste to leave, she left her cell phone at home.  Nice.  The ride is uneventful for a few miles.  That is, until the car started to shudder and quake.  The Wife looks down at her gas gauge as the car gives one final quiver and shuts off.  Out of gas.  On the Highway. Late for Church.  This is the exact moment that precious baby boy wakes up and begins to wail.  At this point, the Wife is snarling mutiny at the Husband (even though she knows she is the one who was late). 

The Wife sits on the side of the highway as cars go zipping down the lanes for about 30 minutes, when she sees flashing lights behind her.  The Wife promptly bursts into tears, rolls down her window and pours her tardy story out to the officer who comes to her rescue.  AAA is called and 45 minutes from start to finish, the Wife gets back on the road and continues her trek. 

While this is going on, unbeknownst to the Husband, he is sitting on the platform, scanning the congregation for the Wife.  He begins to get nervous and slightly worried.  The double doors in the back of the sanctuary burst wide open.  The Wife, hauling a carseat on her hip, diaper bag on her shoulder, hair askew, and eyes swollen, walks in extreme vexation to a seat nearest the back.  The Husband, who knows by now, something bad happened when he left the Wife, feels a storm cloud coming on.  He fervently starts praying...

HA!  Did I learn my lesson?  No... unfortunately, I have made my family late many times since that day.  You'd think I'd get it together.  I'm smart, creative, funny (have I mentioned funny?), polite (mostly) and know better. 

One of my desires is to wake up early.  Church days and non church days.  I need that time alone, house quiet, Word in hand, mind clear, before the bedlam of the day begins.  You know that scripture "The Spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak."? 

I am a weaksauce snooze button hitting lady. 

It's time for change. 

So, let this stand as my accountability post. 

I, Janelle Hyatt, a chronically late, hurried, rushed, and stressed mother of two, wife to a prompt man, hereby do solemnly declare that I am going to manage my time better.  I will do my best to get my booty out of bed when the alarm goes off WITHOUT a snooze respite.  I will be a master of my time.  I choose this day to respect the time of those around me.  I will set an example to my children that they can be proud to follow. I will conquer this.

I'm going to try anyways... 

Who's with me?

Can you hear that?...

Shhh....

Do you hear that? 

The sound of the washer running, the dishwasher rinsing, the floors sparkling and the clean clothes happily folded and put away for the day?? 

It's the sound of the first day of school. 

This summer was a LONG one and a HOT one.  Long and hot days = extreme boredom = restlessness = bickering kids = time out = stressed mom = extra guilt imposed on self by said stressed mom = loong day(s). 

This was, looking back, the most uneventful and somewhat disappointing summer we've had so far.  I'm glad its over, and glad to look forward to cooler days and a schedule.

Wow, I sound like a pessimist.  I'm not. Well, not always anyways.

The plans we had for the summer all went down the toilet after receiving Madeleine's hospital bill (You may remember this post about Maddie getting stung by a scorpion).  We received the bill a few weeks later, and after we had picked up our eye balls from the floor and popped them back in, we had to cancel all plans made for the summer. Ugh.  Frustrating.

So, we stayed home, swam a lot, sweated a lot and had many introspective discoveries this summer.

Some things we discovered were

-kids can start picking on one another as soon as they get out of bed
-Jalepenos are a really good tactic for talking back/sassing/tattling/mean words.  Don't worry, I just rubbed a little piece on a tongue and gave a sermonette about the tongue being the most powerful member of our body. It worked for a few days. If needed, you can just rub and repeat.
-Swimming is a great activity and it's FREE
-Money is stressful. period. enough said.
-There is no possible way for a house to stay clean during summer vacation. IMPOSSIBLE.
-If your children feed a stray cat to get the reward from the neighborhood signs, and the owner ends up being a "no-show" doesn't mean that you get a free cat.  You get a free pest, complete with cat hair. Though it is nice to have a little purring machine sit on your feet while you blog.
-Don't mention the "pound" "Humane Society" in front of your kids regarding the afore mentioned feline. 
-Mint grows like crazy and chokes out all the other herbs you may have planted around it. But is great in lemonade and served with homemade peach sorbet.
-In AZ there is indeed such a thing as butt body water.  I've had sweat in places I never knew about.
-Eating Popsicle's in front of an air conditioner vent and giggling with your kids is timeless entertainment.
-Sometimes God tests you in ways that seem so irritating, but are SO necessary.
-Guilt is never the way to change yourself.
-You can be too hard on yourself (Thanks for the straight words Andrea) Show yourself some grace, you're only human after all.
-Dr. Neil Anderson's book "Freedom from Fear" is a must read.
-When your kids love learning it changes every stigma about school.
-Kids are the best spiritual mirror a parent can have - Good Lord, I have been convicted this summer.
-Mac N Cheese is NOT healthy in any way shape or form... 
-It's lovely when family comes to visit and it's lovely when they leave.
-God is much bigger than a church and can blow your mind in your own living room
-I may have snuck a Starbucks coffee 6x once or twice this summer
-Budgets stink, but are totally necessary (see above)
-Music soothes the savage beast
-My kids are now having a love affair with 'The Golden Oldies" and are known to walk around singing "If you wanna be happy for the rest of your life, never make a pretty woman your wife..." and "Yakkity yak - Don't talk back!".
-The library reading program can save your summer.
-Discovering how to be content in what ever state you may be in is a tough test, and once I accomplish that I'll let you know.  In the meantime, I will pray for grace and my 'tude every day. 

and... 

The list could go on... and on... and on...

So, I'll stop. 

Oh, one thing I did learn this summer was how to give myself a pedicure (budget again) and do a home facial.

Here was my favorite facial I found over the summer.  My face felt firm and glowed like a light bulb afterwards. Jane Austen would liken it to "incandescence" but I liken it to a light bulb.  Humph.  =)

Asprin Facial

4-6 uncoated asprin tablets
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp honey

(Still taking photos on my iphone - whose lens is smudged - obviously!) WHOOPS!

Place your asprin tablets in a smidge of water - just enough to dissolve them completely but not cover them.

Stir in baking soda and dash of honey. Stir up and let get all foamy. Rub gently onto face (avoid nostrils and eyes) and allow to "set" for 10-15 minutes.  Rinse thoroughly. Voila!  A shiney, clean, soft and firm face. 

Let me know if you try it!

Happy end of summer all!

Remembering

My mom passed away 6 years ago.  It's been a long time, but yet, it feels like yesterday. 

Sometimes, I catch myself thinking, "I need to call Mom and ask her..."  or "Mom will think this is..." or "I miss..." and then I remember - She's gone. 

Tomorrow marks the day that my life changed forever and the relationship that was budding and growing came to a halt.  I can't help but feel regret at losing her at such a young age, but I also understand that she is in a better place. 

Recently, I also see evidence of my mom in my life and in my daughter, who never even knew her Grammy.

For lack of better words right now, I'm going to do a re-post that I wrote about my mom in February.
____________________________________________________________________________

Our Little Angel

Out of the blue today, while M was sitting at our kitchen table, surrounded by crayons and craft paper, enjoying her snack, she piped up in her little voice, "I think I've seen your Mom and Dad before Mommy..."


Now, understand, we see my Dad, "Poppa" every year or two. We last saw him when we lived in Stockton. So May of 2008 - Madeleine would have been 5 years old. I was suprised when Madeleine seemed to remember him, and asked when we were going to see "Poppa" again. (Hopefully soon!)

And then she said, "Well, I've seen your Mommy too"...

My Mom died of stomach cancer when I was 5 months pregnant with M.

I softly and gently explained that wasn't possible because Grammy went to heaven when M was in my tummy.

M tilted her head to the side, and paused in contemplation for a moment, and then stated, "No Mom! I've seen her. Sometimes, when I'm sleeping she stops by to tell me "Hello".

...

I'll never forget it - The morning my Mom passed away, she made a point to call each of her kids.

I remember my phone ringing at 6am and seeing on my caller ID that it was my sisters number (my mom chose to stay at my sisters home with the help of Hospice rather than a hospital) and all of a sudden I could hear my heartbeat - a slow, irregular, dreadful pumping with a roaring thundering in my ears.

I answered with a hasty "Hello?"

It was my mom, feeble voiced but on a mission.

I had to strain to hear her words - she seemed hard pressed to finish some sentences, so some of those words that were in her heart never made it to my ears...

But I knew. I knew what she was saying.

She was whispering her goodbyes.

I wish I could recall with clarity everything that was said on that brief phone call. I wish I would have had the foresight to grab a pad of paper and scribble everything down. But I didn't...

I wouldn't understand the magnitude that her passing would have on my life until months, even years later.

This was my first time losing someone I loved.

I listened, crouching on the floor by the corner of my bed, hand pressed to my mouth, trying to contain my emotions.

I don't think I said much.

The beginnings of our conversation are blurred forever, try as I might, I can't recall them,

But this much I remember, My mom, the woman that I loved more than any one person in my life,the one who gave me life, who taught me how to walk and talk, and who prayed incessently over me, the woman, who as a teenager, I battled against, cared for, rolled my eyes at, and silently cursed sometimes

apologized to me....

She said, "I'm sorry if I ever let you down. I'm sorry if I wasn't a good mom to you at times... I love you Janelle and I am so glad you are my daughter and that I got to be your Mom. I love you."

I was horrified! The last conversation with my mom and I didn't expect an apology. I didn't need one.

Hurriedly, I pushed aside her words "No Mom, no apologies. I love you and you were a great mother to me. I love you so much."

Silence on the other end.

I felt sick...

"Mom? Are you still there?"

"Kiss my new granddaughter for me. I wish I could see her..."

-Click-

That was it. The last conversation I would ever have with the single most important woman in my life. I tried to hit redial but the line was busy.

She was calling my brothers...

I tried the number again, desperate this time. I had so much more to say to her.

Busy... Beep beep beep...

I laid on the floor, and cried.

Beep, beep, beep...

No answer.

I called my husband who had worked the night shift that particular day. He was due home in a few hours.

"I think I just had my last conversation with my mom.. Today is the day - please come home."

-Click-

I don't remember how long I laid on the floor before I heard T stirring. I heard him in his crib, laughing and babbling, banging something against the railings (trying to get my attention no doubt), and I let him stay there.

I laid with my face buried in the carpet, weeping.

Grieving for moments remembered and moments to come that would now be short one special lady.

Finally, I knew T was getting fussy, I went in and opened the door to the nursery. His little blonde face peering through the rails at me, dimpled mouth all wreathed in smiles "Mamma-mama!"

I picked him up, made a bottle and rocked him for a while, thinking of my mom, with tears streaming down my face, his chubby hand pressed in the crook of my neck.

She passed away a few hours later.

My sister, Kim, was there with her when she passed. Reading her Psalms and singing to her. I am so thankful that Kim was there with my mom when she made the transition into the eternal.

We found out a month after my mother passed that we were expecting a baby girl.

So for M to tell me that Grammy stops in to tell her "Hello" every once in a while...

Well...

I believe in God. I believe in angels and I believe in heaven.

Do you?

T and Grammy 3 days before she passed.