I had a little extra time at the end of my recording session last night, so I had a little fun with this.
For more beautiful music, check out Then Sings My Soul Saturday every Saturday hosted by Amy at Signs, Miracles and Wonders.
I had a little extra time at the end of my recording session last night, so I had a little fun with this.
For more beautiful music, check out Then Sings My Soul Saturday every Saturday hosted by Amy at Signs, Miracles and Wonders.
PinkGirl has had a very tough week. To make a 6 month story short, she was bullied to a breaking point. Two weeping meltdowns of resigned hopelessness in two days, and I’m not exaggerating.
This afternoon, she brought a friend home with her and they were lounging on a blanket, on the banks of the pond behind our house. It was peaceful and lazy and I could hear her laughter from my rocking chair on the back porch.
and then.
3 teenage girls came into the clearing and one immediately yelled at PinkGirl and her friend: “Get lost! I HATE children!”
Immediately, with all the breath in my lungs, I yelled “THEN HIT THE ROAD!” It was instinctive. Not one intelligent thought preceded it. The words just flew out of my body.
[Let me just stop and say. WOW! What a difference a year of voice lessons makes! I didn’t even recognize the voice that came out of me. Deep. LOUD. It actually ECHOED.]
The MeanGirls couldn’t have been more stunned than if they had heard a gunshot. They stopped dead in their tracks and looked around. I was on my porch, still in my rocking chair. They had no idea where the big voice came from.
But.
They turned and walked away from PinkGirl and her friend. Silently.
So be forewarned. I have zero tolerance for ANYone being mean to PinkGirl right now. She has no resilience and she needs a few days or weeks to build it back up.
Don’t make me use my big voice.
PinkGirl: “It’s not FAIR!”
Me: “I know honey, I’m sorry.”
PinkGirl: “Well?”
Me: “What?”
FavoriteSon: “She wants you to turn off your seat warmer because she doesn’t have one.”
Me: “oh, honey, I’m sorry. That’s really not gonna happen.”
PinkGirl: “MO – OM!”
Me: “nope.”
PinkGirl’s 4th grade class went on a field trip to St. Augustine today and I had to drive because she was in a charity performance for Toys for Tots tonight and she had to be at the theater earlier than the bus was returning.
I think I’m all set and then, last night around 6pm, one of the teachers sent out an email:
“If chaperones want to drive we can’t stop you; however it is a big problem in that the trolley tour that leaves from the Old Jail does not return there. It drops us off at the fort, and you will not be able to get back to your car.”
Seriously?
So I Googled St. Augustine and found a map From the fort to the Old Jail . . . it didn’t seem that far to me, but I didn’t know, so I emailed the teacher back:
“What are my options if I need to get PinkGirl back early? From your email, it sounds like driving my own vehicle would leave me stranded. I’ve never been to St. Augustine and it sounds like you know the ropes. Any suggestions?”
His reply, at 6:16 this MORNING:
“I am sure there are a few parents driving. Maybe you can catch a ride back to the jail or miss the trolley tour and just drive from the jail to the fort. Parking for the fort is at the welcome center across the street. Sorry, but there is no easy way that I know of.”
I’m thinking, they all sound like easy ways to me, unless you can’t WALK. I’m thinking all my treadmill time has prepared me for this. Little did I know.
So PinkGirl rides the cool bus with TVs to St. Augustine and I drive my van and park at the Old Jail with all the other parents who drove. We tour the Museum (GREAT tour guide) and the Old Jail. Here’s my facebook posts during the tour of the Old Jail:
“Trying to stand where the authoritarian tour guide tells us to stand. Got in trouble 3 times already.”
and then,
“Got in trouble with the cranky tourguide again. Now I’m standing as far back as I can to listen to the tour guide behind me. He’s funnier.”
oh. she was bossy. FirstHusband says I have a problem with authority. I say I just tend to ignore bossy people.
But here’s where it all started to go downhill fast. While we were in the Old Jail, it started raining. Did I mention it was COLD? I was wearing three layers and leather gloves. PinkGirl is wearing two layers and gloves, but she’s running around more. And then it started raining.
Not good.
We had lunch on a small porch. All three 4th grade classes and a bunch of parents.
Then on to the trolley ride. So NOW we’re all in an open trolley, in the cold, in the rain and traveling at least 30 miles per hour.
Not good.
By the time the tour was finished 45 minutes later, we were soaked and very, Very, VERY cold. And we had 45 minutes of “free time” until the tour of the fort. The mom I was hanging with was on a quest for coffee and I was right there with her. I hate shopping as it is and there was NO way I was going to shop while I was soaking wet.
After a latte for me and a hot chocolate for PinkGirl ($9.00), we walked to the fort and stood around waiting for that tour to begin. In the rain. I asked our tour guide about options to get back to our vehicles at the Old Jail and he quickly pointed out the trolley stop right in front of the fort. Supposedly, the trolley schedule was every 15 minutes.
umm. hmm.
So PinkGirl goes on the fort tour with her class in the care of my fellow coffee lovin mom and I walk over to the trolley stop with two other moms to wait. and wait. and wait.
Forget it. It’s RAINING and I’m freezing and if I’m going to be in the rain, I’m NOT going to stand still while I’m getting soaked. I’m at LEAST going to be moving toward my destination. We were decked out in some seriously attractive complementary rain ponchos from the trolley company, so my thought was that if we saw a trolley coming our way, we would look pitiful and step out into the middle of the street and flag… okay, maybe not. But the “look pitiful” part worked after we walked about a half a mile. Since the rain ponchos were covered in the trolley company logo, a BUS driver (NOT a trolley, but a WARM, ENCLOSED BUS) pulled to a stop right in the middle of the road and opened the door.
My favorite person of the day, and I don’t even know his name.
I get the van, drive it back to the fort and go looking for our group. They are on TOP of the fort, overlooking the water. And now it’s cold and raining and WINDY.
This is not my happy day.
PinkGirl, however is having a GREAT time. weirdo.
But the SECOND the tour is over, she says, “Mom, can we go now?
Oh, honey, you do NOT have to ask me twice. I have a vehicle and I’m not afraid to use it. We were outta there so fast! A quick pit stop at McDonalds and we were on the road. PinkGirl fell asleep within 20 minutes and stayed asleep till we got off the highway in our little hometown, about an hour and a half later.
My next facebook update:
“I dont know how PinkGirl is even still standing, much less performing in a show tonight. We had to be at school at 6:30 am, we spent most of the day freezing and soaking wet and she fell asleep in the van on the way home from St. Augustine. Her dad had to carry her into the house so she could change clothes for the show. She’s sleeping in tomorrow, I can feel it.”
Then, later:
“PinkGirl just got home from the show – she is TOTALLY wired. But when she crashes, it’s going to look like this. (at the 2:43 mark)”
Background:
One of FavoriteSon’s most enjoyable pastimes is making jokes about my age.
One of my most enjoyable pastimes is making fun of the bare patches in his wannabe beard.
Me, talking about a new prescription cream for my face: “Supposedly, it will make me look more youthful.”
FavoriteSon: “Good luck with that.”
Me: “Handlebar or Groucho?”
FavoriteSon: “huh?”
Me: “What kind of Sharpie mustache do you want to see when you look in the mirror tomorrow morning, handlebar or Groucho?”
FavoriteSon: “Just fill it in right here” (motioning the middle of his upper lip)
Me: “No hitlers.”
FavoriteSon: “It’s not a hitler! It’s just filling in between what’s already there.”
Me: “You don’t have anything already there.”
We don’t send our daughter to bed. We put our daughter to bed. We spend a few minutes at the end of the day tucking her in, saying prayers and listening to her – really listening to her – and we are absolutely amazed at what she shares with us. The things she thinks about, the stuff she never mentions during the busyness of the day, comes pouring out.
During those few minutes, we get precious opportunities to help her consider ideas she hadn’t thought of before, to guide her through problem solving and relationship issues and to lead her to new conclusions. We get to talk about God and ideas and feelings and passions and fears and goals instead of the functional things of the day that include lunches, homework, chores, laundry, rides . . .
Sometimes, we just listen.
We only recently stopped these end of the day conversations with our near 15 year old son. Why, I wonder? Just because he’s becoming more and more independent every day? Because we don’t have a regular bedtime routine for him anymore? Or are we just being lazy? There’s a loveseat in his room that I need to sit on tonight.
I want my children to be thinking of these conversations as they drift off to sleep. I want these conversations to filter into their dreams. I want them to wake up with a vision of God as the center and compass of their lives, an awareness of possibility and a sense that they can influence their future by the choices they make and the actions they take.
What are your night time routines?
“It is incumbent upon us as stewards of these precious lives to introduce them to their potential, to lift their eyes off of today’s realities and focus them on tomorrow’s possibilities . . .
The most significant visions are not cast by great orators from a stage. They are cast at the bedsides of our children. The greatest visioncasting opportunities happen between the hours of 7:30 and 9:30 p.m. Monday through Sunday. In these closing hours of the day we have a unique opportunity to plant the seeds of what could be and what should be. Take advantage of every opportunity you get.”
Visioneering: God’s Blueprint for Developing and Maintaining Vision
by Andy Stanley
I’m still asking for your best/favorite/unique/effective PARENTING TIP
It can be a tip about ANYTHING. Regardless of the age or gender of the child – it can be pragmatic practices, logistics, shaping character, spiritual development, allowances, scheduling extra-curricular activities, nurturing talents and skills, potty training, dealing with tantrums, bedtime and sleeping habits, developing relationships with your teenager, cell phone limits, family policies, dealing with schoolwork, sibling relationships, dealing with a parent who travels a lot . . . ANYTHING that worked or is working for you!
Comment or write your own blog post and link to it in a comment. Share one tip or many!
THANKS!
Find more ideas over at Works for Me Wednesday, hosted by Kristen at We Are THAT Family. MY previous Works for Me Wednesday posts are HERE.
Works for Me Wednesday posts prior to February 2009 are archived at Rocks In My Dryer.
I am CRYING from laughter right now. These guys are hilarious!!! If you don’t think so, forward to the 4:50 minute mark.
Pragmatic advice too! I’m a FAN!
Need a few more chuckles today? Check out Friday Funnies hosted by Homesteaders Heart!
If you’ve got time to hang out for a few minutes, check out what else makes me laugh: Pragmatic Compendium’s “laugh!” category.
I read, therefore I quote:
“Vision gives significance to the otherwise meaningless details of our lives . . . It’s the difference between filling bags with dirt and building a dike in order to save a town. There’s nothing glamorous or fulfilling about filling bags with dirt. But saving a city is another thing altogether. Building a dike gives meaning to the chore of filling bags with dirt. And so it is with vision . . .
Too many times the routines of life begin to feel like shoveling dirt. But take those same routines, those same responsibilities, and view them through the lens of vision and everything looks different . . .
Visioneering: God’s Blueprint for Developing and Maintaining Vision
Andy Stanley
This is why I can sit in the bleachers for four hours at track meet to watch my son run a total of less than TWO MINUTES. This is why I let my daughter listen to her Mulan Jr. rehearsal CD for HOURS in the car. And in the family room. And in the bathroom. For 15 weeks. It’s why I don’t get angry about the fact that my husband’s work schedule often puts me in “single parent” mode. This is why I’m pausing the drafting of this post to go to lunch with my daughter at school right now.
. . . two days later.
I do these things because I see a bigger picture. I want my children to know, really KNOW that I’m their advocate. I’m home base. I’m the safe house. I’m to be trusted. Depended on. NO. MATTER. WHAT.
And I’ll tell you something. I don’t do it because I’m all that. I do it because I’m damaged. And I’m freakishly, relentlessly determined to BREAK the cycle. Come hell or high water, four hour track meets or obsessive rehearsing, broken glasses, gouges in the wood floor, dishes piled in the sink, 23 rolling water bottles in the floor of my van – MY children will not be damaged in the same way I was. (of course, they will be damaged in other ways – their therapist will tell them how later).
So yes. I relentlessly strive to choose on purpose because I’ve seen what “going with the flow” looks like. Significantly less than optimal. (ya know I edited THAT)
My son may not sit next to me at the track meet, but I’m confident – he’s glad I’m there. He ASKED me to be there. My TEENAGER asked me to be there. I see this as an honor, not four hours in captivity. I know that my daughter takes me and my rides to and from her rehearsals for granted. Now. But she’s nine. And when SHE has a child and drives them around, spending hours in the car everyday, my hope and prayer is that she remembers that I did that for her – and I didn’t complain about it. For years. Because I want her to know and extend grace without letting someone know how put out she was to do it. As we say around here, “It ain’t grace when you give it that way.”
So, yes. When I decide to do something, I give it my best effort. Because I see more than the tasks. I see the REASON behind the tasks. I have lots of hidden agendas and I take advantage of opportunities to teach by example. And by example, that includes asking for forgiveness when I lose my patience with my husband or one of my kids or speak harshly and hurt their feelings. It includes making things right when I do things wrong. And believe me, there’s plenty of “making things right” on my To Do List. Caring for my family is job one. Each one of them is a gift from God and I’m determined – and I mean DETERMINED – to be a good steward of His gifts. I’ve had a close up look at “reactive” parenting and my personal, long term struggle with the negative consequences has been life changing and tenaciously motivating. I’ve seen good enough. And it ain’t.
I chose to be intentional. Consistently intentional. Because I’ve known for a very long time that I was being prepared for a “good work.” And I know, from someplace deep and buried inside me, that if I allow myself to be used by God to do so, I can partner with Him to equip my children and husband for His good work too.
More from Andy Stanley:
“Specifically, vision weaves four things into the fabric of our daily experience:
1. Passion. A clear, focused vision actually allows us to experience ahead of time the emotions associated with our anticipated future. These emotions serve to reinforce our commitment to the vision. Even the most lifeless, meaningless task or routine can begin to “feel” good when it is attached to a vision . . . The emotions associated with being there [are] enough to motivate you through the drudgery of getting there. (emphasis added)
2. Motivation . . . Saving a town is enough to keep you working through the night. But just filling bags of dirt for the sake of bag-filling will leave you looking at your watch.
3. Direction. Maybe the most practical advantage of vision is it sets a direction for our lives. It serves as a road map . . . simplifies decision making . . . vision will prioritize your values. A clear vision has the power to bring what’s more important to the surface of your schedule and lifestyle. A clear vision makes it easy to weed our of your life those things that stand in the way of achieving what matters most . . . Once you have clarified your vision or visions, many decisions are already made. Without vision, good things will hinder you from achieving the best things. (emphasis added)
4. Purpose. A vision makes you an important link between current reality and the future. That dynamic gives your life purpose. And purpose carries with it the momentum to move you through the barriers that would otherwise slow you down and trip you up.
. . . you have probably heard or read this type of stuff before. Self-help books are full of this kind of hype . . . But here is where we part ways with the secular motivational gurus of our culture . . . as Christians, we do not have a right to take our talents, abilities, experiences, opportunities and education and run off in any direction we please . . .
Accumulating money or stuff is a vision of sorts. But it is the kind of vision that leaves men and women wondering. Wondering if there was more. Wondering what they could have done – should have done – with their brief stay on this little ball of dirt.”
“. . . therefore I quote” Thursday: If you have a quote to share from something you’ve read recently, feel free to comment and/or include a link to your own “quote” post.
Need help making your link look pretty in the comment? Copy and use this code.
I read, therefore I quote Gordon MacDonald and C.S. Lewis:
“Years ago, my father wisely shared with me that one of the great tests of human character is found in making critical choices of selection and rejection amidst all of the opportunities that lurk in life’s path. ‘Your challenge,’ he told me, ‘will not be in separating out the good from the bad, but in grabbing the best out of all the possible good.’ He was absolutely correct. I did indeed have to learn, sometimes the hard way, that I had to say no to things I really wanted to do in order to say yes to the very best things . . .
If we are to command our time, we will have to bite the bullet and say a firm but courteous no to opportunities that are good but not the best.
Once again that demands, as it did in the ministry of our Lord, a sense of our mission . . . What do we do best with our time? What are the necessities without which we cannot get along? Everything else has to be considered negotiable: discretionary, not necessary.
I love the words C.S. Lewis wrote in Letters to an American Lady about the importance of these choices:
‘Don’t be too easily convinced that God really wants you to do all sorts of work you needn’t do. Each must do his duty ‘in that state of life to which God has called him’ . . . there can be intemperance in work just as in drink. What feels like zeal may be only fidgets or even the flattering of one’s self-importance . . . By doing what ‘one’s station and its duties’ does not demand, one can make oneself less fit for the duties it does demand and so commit some injustice. Just you give Mary a little chance as well as Martha.'”
Ordering Your Private World
Gordon MacDonald
What C.S. Lewis refers to as “that state of life to which God has called him’ I frequently refer to as a “season” of life. There are seasons for things, as I mentioned at the end of my last therefore I quote post. I want to do everything I want to do, if you know what I mean, but I CAN’T.
I see friends working themselves to the point of sickness and stressing their minds and bodies to the point of exhaustion and poor health and ineffectiveness and I get it. I’ve been there. I’ve done that. I reacted to the demands of life and other people in my life and I just moved forward, taking action without contemplating whether I should. Without evaluating my capabilities and time limitations and without realizing the impact of adding responsibilities without letting go of others.
As a result, I failed. I failed in many ways. I failed friends, family, employers and clients. I did many things – none of them very well, in my opinion. I gained weight. My body got weaker. I got pneumonia three times and bronchitis so many times I lost count. I was cranky and irritable from a lack of both sleep and solitude. Overwhelmed with responsibilities, some of which resulted from poor, unthoughtful choices on my part.
Then, one by one, I began making hard and intentional choices. Saying no to things that were good, but not best. When I gave up a responsibility, someone else filled my shoes. In some cases, the jobs got done just as well and sometimes better than I did them. A blow the ego, yes. But the time I’ve found has been it’s own reward. More time with my family in this tiny season of life before my kids grow up. Time for solitude and a personal, daily time with God. Time to exercise and make healthy food choices for both myself and my family.
There are not enough hours in the day to do everything I want to do right now. I don’t have the energy or stamina or skills or knowledge . . . I have to DECIDE what’s important in THIS season of my life and focus on those things. Other things will have to wait. The hard part is, some things may have to wait forever.
“. . . therefore I quote” Thursday: If you have a quote to share from something you’ve read recently, feel free to comment and/or include a link to your own “quote” post.
Need help making your link look pretty in the comment? Copy and use this code.
I wonder if I’ve always seen seasons in my life. Looking back, I don’t remember ever feeling anxious for certain times in my life to be over. I’ve hated a job or two and couldn’t wait for them to be over, I’ve hated a class or two and couldn’t wait for them to be over, but in the seasonal aspect of my life, I feel like I’ve always been comfortable right where I am.
I’ve been a long time true believer in the concept that “Life is a journey, not a destination.” I have a framed print in my living room with the words “Life is a journey.” on the top left corner. It’s a photo of a dad and his toddler son. The dad is painting the wall. The toddler is to his left, coloring on the newly painted wall. It was a two page Nissan magazine ad, I called a 1800 number to get a (free) copy of the print back in the 90’s and had it framed. “Life is a journey” is something I’ve believed for a very, very long time. I believe that everything I’ve experienced – the good and the bad – has led me to the person I am today.
Because I see life through this lens, I try to sincerely pay attention, and really ENGAGE in what’s happening today. I also have this overshadowing perspective that time is FLYING by. Thankfully, I haven’t experienced a personal crisis that threw me face to face with what’s important. But I have paid attention when friends have faced serious illness and death. My focus has been strengthened even more by Rachel Barkey’s testimony. I have a deep realization of what matters to me and try to make decisions based on those priorities.
One priority? My kids.
I didn’t have my son until I was 30. I had completed my education and had started working on my career. It went well. Launching my business in 1994 brought wonderful blessings, personal, professional and financial. I’ve been through some changes with regard to my work status as I do my best to stay true to my commitment to my family. As my family’s needs change, I adapt. But work is another post. This is about family.
Older women told me that the years with kids at home would fly by. We hear that so often as young mothers, covered in baby spit up and smelling like a combination of day old b.o., curdled milk, peanut butter and playdoh and we think, “yeah, yeah, yeah, I need a shower! and a nap. and some solitude.” And I really did need a shower and a nap. I desperately needed a little solitude. Sometimes I got them on the same day I needed them. Sometimes not.
But I KNEW it was true. These days are FLYING by! There’s an urgency about this time with my kids. I don’t want to waste it. I don’t want to let it slip by, while I focus on things that, in the big picture, just don’t matter. I’ve been on the other end of that kind of mothering. I fiercely don’t want that for myself or my kids. I said FIERCELY.
I get to the end of a day and really, really want to have used it well. Some days I look back and see myself saying and doing things I wish I hadn’t. But I have no patience (or time) to wallow in regret. I just tell my kids I was wrong and I’m sorry. Then I start over and try again the next day. Sometimes I don’t even wait for the day to end before I start over. Sometimes I catch myself in the middle of the day and change gears right then. But no matter what I say and do in my effort to achieve “a good day” there’s always been one underlying foundation. I feel like I’ve always done it, but it took a conversation with a client a few years ago to make me conscious of it.
The kids were little. FavoriteSon was 7 and PinkGirl was 18 months old. I remember because I was working at a client site during a firm wide computer upgrade in the summer of 2002. I was with another contractor, in an attorney’s office and the contractor asked: “Mr. W, how did you get such great kids?” Mr. W thought quietly for a few seconds and said:
“Well, you know, I’ve always respected them, no matter how old they were. I’ve always been interested in what they think and how they feel. I’m interested in what interests them. I just really enjoy spending time with them, whether we’re doing some activity together or just hanging out. I think they’re really great people.”
As I listened to Mr. W, I suddenly understood why I cared that a Charmander evolved into a Charmeleon and then into a Charizard. Because FavoriteSon cared. I knew why I actually spent a Friday night reading the entire Official Pokemon Manual to determine whether I would allow FavoriteSon to get into the Pokemon phenomenon. (My favorite Pokemon is a Jigglypuff. When they sing, they put you to sleep and then draw all over your face. Yes. I have a favorite Pokemon.) It’s why I watch every TV show my kids like. (They don’t watch that many shows.) We have a lot to talk about when I watch their TV shows. Learning opportunities abound. I listen to their music. I make FavoriteSon Google song lyrics for our approval before he’s allowed to download music. I made FavoriteSon “friend” me on Facebook.
I want to know anything they want to tell me. Because, someday – someday sooner than I would like – they aren’t going to tell me so much.
So in the middle of all this, I try to make the everyday a “good day.” Sure there’s the dishwasher to load and unload – again. And the laundry – with the man stank of football season. And the bathroom floor, the cat hair on the stairs, kicking a path through toys in PinkGirl’s room, the homework, the kid chauffeuring, the kid bickering, the lunch packing, and whatever that smell is in my van. I tire of this list. You get the idea.
But the thing is, this is life. This stuff happens. E V E R Y day. I can’t stop it. But when it does stop, it will be OVER. And I believe older women when they tell me they remember it as a GOOD time in their life, some even say it was the BEST time in their life. In that frame of reference, this time is so short!
I am COMPELLED to make “good days” in the middle of this fast paced, ever changing thing I call my life. It is so funny how the kids, when asked about what they remember about their past, come up with the simplest of things. Dragging the kitchen table into the family room and covering it with blankets to make a tent in front of the TV. Sending in bowls of popcorn. Leaving the table there for hours because I really had no compelling reason to put it back. Knowing as I handed the popcorn through the blankets that there would be vacuuming in my future.
I’ve spent this regular ol’ Monday afternoon with my daughter while FavoriteSon was at football practice. She and I picked him up, greeting him with a cold Gatorade. I started this post while she was doing her homework and now, as I finish it up and FavoriteSon is in the shower, I hear my husband and daughter in the next room. She’s cracking up. He’s blowing a raspberry on her belly. It’s a school night and there are still lunches to pack, clothes to lay out, showers to finish and prayers to say. Homework is done, dinner is done, the kitchen is trashed. Again. Monday night football for FavoriteSon and FirstHusband. Reading for PinkGirl and myself.
It was a good day.