FEEDING MY KIDS TOO MUCH HAPPINESS and how the Bachelor gives good parenting advice

I’m embarrassed to admit that I am a Bachelor lover. Yes I watch a show where 20 year olds, who apparently don’t have to work for a quarter of the year, put on all their makeup and show America their best selves.  The message that all these singles communicate when they have their few minutes of fame is that they just want to be happy. If they could just find love then they would be happy. “What a stupid idea,” I have thought many times. Marriage isn’t only about happiness. I talk at the screen saying, “You’ll always be disappointment and crying like Ashley if happiness is your standard.”  

What makes my kids happy?  With limited lawn space for our kids to run freely around to explore, our kids enjoy the things we do have outside which is standing water along our curb. This is a breeding ground for tadpoles. They squat down in the street, squeal with excitement, and scoop up these little swimmers with their hands or a Tupperware if the little guy is lucky.  On my back porch, I have a large Tupperware, with grimy opaque water, filled with so many tadpoles it looks like a room full of toddlers when you say it’s lunchtime.  Yesterday morning before school started, the kids ran out with handfuls of lettuce to give them their breakfast and they called me out there. There was a tadpole that looked like a blowfish. You know when Violet swelled up because she ate too much candy in Charlie’s factory?  This blowfish must have eaten too much lettuce. I had never seen anything like it. It was so swollen that its skin was translucent and had a silvery rainbowy glow.  Poor guy. I went back into making lunches and Nathan walked in with a confident smile and told me he took care of him. He popped him so that the food could come out. He explained how he had saved him and then eagerly went back outside to check on him.  How many times am I just like this with my kids? My intentions are good, but at the same time unknowingly, I may be harming them.

I’m realizing how often I feed my kids a slice of happiness just like my kids kept feeding the blowfish tadpole.  I tie their shoes every morning even though they are very capable of using their own hands to tie their laces. I don’t want them to have loose shoes or to have to struggle their way through tying their own laces. One slice of happiness.  I remind them several times in one morning to put their homework in their bag and then check to make sure they did it so they don’t feel the embarrassment of not having it or have a docked grade.  Another slice of happiness. I make sure at the beginning of the school year that they have the right book bag and lunchbox so that they feel comfortable with them.  An additional slice of happiness. Ok, you get the point. I realize that I live like Bachelor nation. I want them to be happy! I don’t want them to feel pain, sadness, embarrassment, loss or anything remotely uncomfortable! Whoa, how did I get here? Is that even what is best for my kids? Or am I just feeding my little tadpoles one bite of happiness at a time when eventually they are going to explode. And they do explode (it’s called an emotional breakdown or aka a tantrum). If there is a challenge where they need to step up or if something is difficult, they sometimes explode. “What! I have to tie my own shoes! But I caaaaan’t!” 

Please don’t hear what I’m not saying. I’m not saying I want my kids to be miserable. Happiness is bad. I want to make my kids’ life terrible. What I am contemplating is the thought that I have created an environment and standard of living that is not only unhealthy but also unattainable.  I want my kids to be resilient. Then don’t they need to experience difficult conditions?  I want them to know how to handle loss. Then don’t they need to undergo being deprived of something of value to them?  I want them to know they are not defined by their mistakes. Then don’t they need to encounter a mishandled situation and feel that my love has not wavered for them?

This is taking off some stress for me as well. I’m realizing they don’t have to have the best kindergarten teacher or a stylish haircut because parenting is about teaching not creating a flawless world for them. And how can they learn when everything is perfect?  Do I absolutely delight in giving my kids slices of happiness? Absolutely! But I don’t want to overfeed my tadpoles where they turn into blowfishes and eventually pop. When my tadpoles have a moment of hunger I consequently have the opportunity to teach them skills to get their own food. And just as my kids faithfully take care of their tadpoles until they are ready to jump out of the Tupperware, I will devotedly not stop loving my kids whether they get that slice of happiness or not.  

Why I'm 99% happy that this school year is over

Nathan runs up to me with a grin on his face and energy surging through his bones. "Guess what?" he yelps.  He tells me that his dad said there is a 99% change that we won't be able to commit to competitive soccer next year.  "That means there is a 1% chance that I get to play!!"  Oh that sweet boy of mine who always holds on to the positive and wants to squeeze every drop of hope out of each situation.

When I think of this school year ending, I feel sadness and my heart is weighed down as if I've lost something very dear to me. Endings can produce emotions.  I watched a movie the other night that captured my mind. I transported into the story and was saddened when it came to an end. When we throw our New Year's eve parties, I hate when the last song is being played and the house it empty and quiet again. Of course there are things that I love to come to and end as well: a workout, my child's fit, depression, sickness, a day at work, counseling. I guess we can feel a variety of emotions when it's something good that comes to an end; it creates opposing emotions in my heart.

Today is the last day of school and I'll be picking up my 1st and 3rd grader up at the bike ramp for the last time with them at this height, with these size of hands, with these school uniforms, with this level of emotional and academic growth. My mind gravitates towards the 1% like my son. Except in this situation, the 99% means that my kids are growing, have successfully mastered their benchmarks, and they are developing in every way. They are growing and they are healthy.  The 1 % however washes over me like a flood of both heartache and sadness because I am saying goodbye to the 1st and 3rd grader that I can never get back. They will never be this small again. The older I get I'm realizing that the time with my children is going by so quickly.

This year ending also means that my youngest will be beginning school in 2 months. This is the end of me being a stay at home mom with little ones at home hanging on me the whole day. And although I am so grateful in many ways that this season is over, I desperately miss those moments where I rocked a crying baby to sleep. When I looked into my toddler's eyes and their little hand held my finger.  When I was trying to figure out our sleeping routine.  When I heard words come of their mouth that only a mom can understand and translate. Time is something we have no control of. It keeps moving, whether too slow or too fast, but it's moving. And wants it's passed it's gone forever.

Squeeze your little or big ones today. They will never be the same as they are in this moment.  Life will happen. Time will pass.  I am thankful I have a 1 percenter who reminds me daily of the joy of each situation. If you have little ones still at home, I encourage you to look at their little bodies, soak in their smiles, listen to the phrases they repeat, take note of how they have already grown so much. For those of us who have school aged kids, let's do the same thing. Children are a blessing. Being a mother is a great honor. As I say goodbye to this year, I am overly grateful that my time with them is not yet done. I'm holding tightly to both the 1% and the 99%.

Learning to slow mySELF down (teaching my kids to listen)

I grab my warm cup of green tea loaded with coconut milk and sit down in our (adult only) living room before the kids come downstairs in the morning. I'm reading, journaling, and reflecting for the day that is ahead when I hear my children fighting upstairs. Shortly after, that noise travels downstairs and they are within a foot of my face all talking at once, fighting for my attention. I have so many ways I could respond and I need to chose what I'm going to do. I could tell them to figure it out, simply separate them, give them each consequences, on and on. So how do I know what I should do?   I'm learning to think and even say out loud to my kids, "Let's slow it down." Although I don't have any power over time or space, I can slow my fragmented mind to focus on one thing.  When I tell myself to slow it down, it gives me a chance to model self reflection and consequently self control. What am I feeling? Let me check my emotions at the door so that I can enter into my kids' world, because what I'm tempted to think is, "I was in my favorite room of the house, reading my favorite book, drinking my warm tea and now I have to deal with you."  I want my thoughts to gravitate towards asking what my kids needing right now? What would I like to see happen in their relationship in this moment? What should I focus on with them when I see a million things they are doing wrong?  Do I focus on the big picture or get into the details? Which kid do I address first? The point is I don't have to know the answers to these questions. In fact, the answers will look different for each child, even in the same day, and it's very likely that there is not a right or wrong answer or solution. However, what is valuable for me and consequently for my kids is to slow my distracted mind down, in order to focus on my children, instead of complaining about how they interrupted me or how my tea is getting cold.  It's valuable to be thinking about them: not just quickly react and make it about me.

How do I get my kids to listen to me once I slow the moment down? After being a mom for almost 9 years here's my latest answer; I don't know.  I'm not even sure that's the question to ask. Why do Mike and I want our kids to listen to us? Our answers may include: because they are supposed to, they need to learn whose the boss,  I'm owed respect, it would just be easier, it's part of being a good human being.  Yes, yes, yes, and yes. But can we step back from all that and take an aerial view?  If I could dream for my children, I would want them to listen to me because they value my words. I would want them to trust my words not because it's about me, but because it's about us. I want a relationship with them where their respect for me and my words comes from years of experiences where they know I am safe, that I love them, that my mind and heart is for them. 

So how can we build safe, loving, and respectful relationships with our kids that fosters them to listen to us? Obviously that question can be an endless conversation but listening to them is invaluable. It's not about only going through the motions of listening or to just bethinking about what you are going to say when they stop explaining themselves. Instead, putting myself into their shoes where my own heart begins to feel with them.   Here's a little acronym I've been using that helps me to remember: SELF.
1. Slow it down
2. Emotions, deal with my own before engaging my kids
3. Listen to them with my full attention
4. Feel, show them authentic empathy

So if I were to listen to my own words, I want to model thoughtfulness rather than being reactionary. I want to grow in listening rather than talking. I want my kids to feel what it's like to have someone feel empathy towards them. That softens not only a child's ears, but their hearts.

How Does a Pale Girl a Tan?

Here are my legs before and after using Foaming Sunless Tan! Love this stuff! Unfortunately, my skin doesn't tan.  I either have pale skin or I burn quickly.  I have tried all kinds of tanning before and this is by far my favorite and goes on the best without streaking!

Check it out at the link below or email me!
https://sarahkjames.myrandf.com/Shop/Product/ESST125
sarahkjames005@gmail.com

the marriage between a voice and a fear...my story with acne

If you know me at all, you know I greatly care about really seeing people; I care about knowing them. Not only what they want me to see, but underneath that. I want to know who they are without shame and fear and why they are that way. I want others to feel heard and know that they matter and they are of worth. I enjoy taking the time getting to know each story.

But when it comes to me being heard...I pause. What if someone doesn't like the real me?  What if they don't really care about what I think? What would that feel like? Painful, of course. So how the heck did I get into something that goes against the very grain of who I am and put myself in the middle of my fear?

A friend asked me when I started using a new acne line if I was planning on selling this to others and become a consultant. My response was something like, "Oh no! That is the last thing I would do. No way!  I hate when I feel pressured or used and I don't want others to feel that way." So recently she asked what has changed since our conversation we had about 6 months ago.  Ironically, nothing had changed other than I was open to the idea that I might share my experience of acne with others if it naturally came up and they had a need for something new for their skin. I'm sitting here smiling, chuckling at myself, that I went from not even telling my friends about my acne to now writing about it on Facebook.

So here's my quick acne story. Since moving to Florida in 2003, I began getting some acne but thankfully when I was pregnant or nursing it cleared up. However, in the past several years I was getting these huge cystic pimples that really hurt, especially when my cheeks hit the pillow at night.
They were terribly embarrassing and lasted up to several months leaving red marks behind them which only felt like reminders of this problem I couldn't solve. I spent so much of my time begrudgingly looking in the mirror.  If staring at them with contempt could burn them off, I would have had the smokiest skin around! I watched countless youtube videos hearing what worked for others from all around the world. Yes, I tried standing on my head (this was advice from a teenager; I should have known better) to get the blood flowing. Yes, I completely changed my diet and got rid of cheese, gluten, and anything that tasted good. I put hemp oil on my face, essential oils, heck...I would have put grass on it if it worked. While feeling guilty for being vein that I cared so much about my acne, I finally went to a dermatologist and she put me on antibiotics that worked after several months.  But I found myself getting sick every month with a lowered immune system. Plus, I like to be as natural as possible, so I didn't feel comfortable taking antibiotics for a short or long period of time.  Fast forward, I started using a new product that I was really skeptical about but thought I had nothing to lose at this point and I knew they had a 60 day return policy. I tried it...and it worked! I couldn't believe it. I seriously want to tell everyone that I see with acne about my story and what has worked for me!!! (don't worry, I don't go up to strangers)

So this is why I love the product! I learned that Rodan and Fields Dermatology had the #1 premium acne skin care. That it was actually a much bigger company that I realized. I heard story after story from others who had used their sun damage, sensitive skin, and anti-aging regimens and were thankful just like me.  I learned they weren't kooky or a scam, but instead the dermatologist from Proactive really knew what they were doing.

I most likely will not reach high sales goals or bust my way through the levels to get 'promoted'. And I'm totally ok with that. That's not what it's about for me. What I have recently seen woven all throughout this process is how my curse has become my blessing.  My acne has given me an avenue to share my story, to share my voice, to share my opinion, and to connect with others. Am I fearful to tell others about something they have maybe never heard of? Yes.  Most of all I fear being pushy and salesy.  But I'm learning to sit in that fear rather than avoid it.  I'm still figuring out what it looks like for me, Sarah James, to share something I love and believe in.  I hold my R+F excitement in one hand, and in the other hand I'm holding up my strong value of respecting and loving others. So when I clap my hands and they collide, what does that look like? I wish I had an elegant explanation but I don't have one (yet). I'm figuring out what it looks like to be me and to share my skin story with others but it's so much bigger than skin for me. It's about believing for myself what I believe for others...we matter, our words matter....and our skin matters! ;)

My Before and Afters

A morning with purpose

You know those assorted packages of fruit you buy in the frozen isle?  My kids love them and they always pick out and fight over the mangoes. Ya, the strawberries and pineapples are tasty, but the mangoes are what gets them excited.   There are lots of good and necessary things that are happening in our home each morning before heading off on our bikes to school. Getting dressed for the 2nd time because they spilled all over their uniform, remembering to brush their teeth, or remembering they forgot to do their homework and it has to be done 5 minutes before we have to leave, are all good things-just like frozen strawberries and pineapples are good fruit.  So how do I help to create mango moments in our already crazy and filled mornings? Moments that get them excited. Moments that get me excited. Moments with purpose.

Many mornings I wake up hearing slamming doors and fighting, or If I'm lucky, by little giggles right outside my door as they not so quietly whisper, "No, you go in first" and then run away with feet that are as loud as my daughter's singing.  Just like that my day has begun. It's usually abrupt.  It's not a slow progression of stretching in my beautiful pajamas, dreaming about my adventurous day ahead, and smelling my fresh brewed coffee waiting for me in my peaceful and sunny kitchen made by the free nanny who is now filling their lunchboxes with tasty vegetables.  And right then, when I realize a new day has begun, I make a choice. What I decide in this moment not only affects me but the course of my children's day as well.

Mornings (and bedtime) are some of the most challenging yet meaningful times of the day in our home.  I read recently that what a child hears from you first thing in the morning can affect the rest of their day. It's that important.  It can change the course of how they function. Words matter. Their mother's (caregiver's) words matter. So waking up this morning, I heard my kids already downstairs. I sat in bed and knew my morning would probably end up being rushed (like it has been every day since school begun even though I'm getting up before my alarm). I felt energized of the thought that I have a job to accomplish this morning.  To speak to them with purpose. To find my mango moment.

I only make it a few steps down the stairs before the little team pounces on me. Everything is a competition, even who gets to hug me first. My little linebackers begin to fight over me. Wait, where's my free nanny to break up the fight?  But here is my choice. Here is where I can affect the mood of our morning. Option one, I begin correcting and maybe even raising my voice and correct  them for fighting (I do at times pick option 1). Option two, quickly redirect and capture this moment for our good-to take this time as an opportunity to make my first few words count.  I speak over their bicker with a goofy voice and tell them they will each get a turn. I start with my littlest. I bend down to his little height.  I look at him and I hope my eyes are saying, I see you. You matter to me. I embrace him and I want my arms to communicate that I will keep him safe and I want him close. I hope my warmth reminds him he belongs in our family. My mouth whispers to him, "Good morning Stephen, I'm so glad to see you!" Then I have a similar precious few seconds with the other two kids before the chaos ramps up again and my linebackers turn into running backs stumbling into the kitchen. And just like that, a little mango moment happened.  The morning had purpose. This is the stuff about parenting that I love! Slowing down. Thinking and using these moment to communicate what matters in life. I hope as a mother and a friend, I can see and participate in many more purposeful mango moments.  Bon appetit!

reflections of a kidless mom

It's strange how a memory can quickly pop into your head at just the right moment and speak to you. I was driving down a neighborhood rode this morning-one I had traveled down so many times before. But this time was different. A memory from a few years back popped into my head. I was quickly taken back to when I was sitting on the carpet when Nathan was 5. We opened a green book, one we had gotten from a neighbor, and I began reading aloud to him this book on emotions. Its message was about how we can often feel more than one emotion at a time. I remember reading this book and actually thinking it was kind of silly.  Well...it's no surprise to me that this book crept back into my thoughts today while driving down that familiar road to my babies school. My youngest, my 4 year old baby, was headed to school for the first time.  I felt many things. I felt both joy and excitement (woohoo! 4 hours to myself!) but also a loss and a sadness (this season of my life is now over). It's both amazing and strange that I can feel so many things at once.

Back when I was doing the diapers, naps and nursing thing, this day seemed so far away.  It seemed like I had been kidnapped to babyland and was never going to get out. I can't believe I got out! I cannot believe that as of today, my life feels so different. And here I am realizing I'm like one of the characters in that green children's book. I feel so 'free' that I have left babyland but I also feel so much sadness. I often think of life in increments of 4 years. A bit weird, yes, but I think it's because I really don't feel like I'm 34 and I still think back in school years-4 years of high school, 4 years of college. I remember what 4 years felt like and I can measure and compare time to those 4 years. When I had babies, somehow time began to slow down and each day felt like a year. So my 8 years of having kids at home felt like an eternity. And then somehow time sped up and now my baby is 4.

The morning routine went smoothly today and I kept my heart and ears attentive on my 4 year old son knowing that today was a big day and I didn't know what he'd be feeling and how he would react. He seemed excited and 'normal' so we kept on and we got his 2 older siblings to school.  We came home to finish a few things before taking him to school and he followed me around the house which he always has done. That is probably one of the things I will be missing most. My little pal. He's one of those kids that like to be in the same room as you but doesn't have to be talking the whole time (I have 2 other kids like that). He'll carry his little toys and blanket with him and contently (most of the time) play while I'm cleaning or doing whatever it is I do. He'll randomly look up at me and say, "Good job mom!"  Today he carried his new beloved Paw Patrol lunchbox all throughout the house and talked to me while I quickly cleaned up from breakfast. He has been waiting for this day for years. For years, he has taken the big kids to school and has felt left out.  He actually seemed older to me today. The way he grinned at me when he knew he was doing the kind thing by letting his sister pass him on his bike. His grin was telling me, "Mom, I got this, I know what to do here." Just like he knew how to stand outside the front door so that I could take a billion pictures because he has seen me do this for years with this siblings. He was so excited today that it was his turn to face and smile at the camera.  And of course in Stephen style, he made a bunch of goofy faces and poses.

So fast forward to driving down that familiar road this morning. I had envisioned that this day was going to be hard for him. Stephen is my precious hearted boy who is sensitive and aware of his emotions and others. I thought he may be nervous or unsure. We parked the car and he began to carelessly swing his lunchbox around and talk to me in a happy and confident voice about his hopes for the school day. He was gregarious and yelled hello at a friend from across the parking lot.  We walked in his classroom door and he pulled back a bit and lightly clung to my leg.  He paused for just a moment before stepping in. He saw all the kids and toys and looked up at me and said, "Mom, I want to play with you."  With a warm smile I said in a gentle voice, "Not right now Stephen, you get to play here and I'll be back soon." My young man sat down at the puzzle table, looked up at me with a smile that said, "Mom  I got this, I know what to do here."  I went in for a hug and his little arms wrapped around me as far as they could.  I began to walk out the door and he yelled, " Mom!"  I turned around to see his precious face.  With the biggest smile and assured voice he said, "I'll miss you! I love you!"  And then I walked out the door.

And just like that, he is growing up.  I walked to the van and just sat there. It was quiet. This is my first day of driving in silence. I saw a plane in the sky and realized I didn't have little eyes in the back seat that would find that thrilling, like it was their first airplane they had ever seen.   This is my first day of having 4 hours to do what I want to do.  I went to a doctor's appointment and sat there reading a book and I didn't have to find a sitter.  I left my appointment and thought about all the many choices of things I could do this morning.  My world has opened up to the many possibilities of how I can spend this time that I now have.  If I look 4 years in the past,  to the 30 year old Sarah, I'd say this time will go by faster than you think and there will come a day that is a bit easier, so hang in there. Soak in the small and big moments of everyday life of your kids because you never get them back and you forget a lot. If I fast forward 4 years ahead, I'd ask the 38 year old Sarah, how have you used your time? Did you go back to school for your masters? Did you go back to one of your loves, teaching 5th grade?  Did you finally volunteer at a women's shelter like you've wanted to?  I wish I could hear from the 38 year old Sarah looking back at this momentous day. I will probably have my then 8 year old, Stephen, telling me, "Don't worry mom, we got this."

5 Steps to Being a Better Parent

I think it's funny (well, not really funny) when we get upset because our kids don't just do what we say. I get irritated when I have to remind them of the same things each day.  It should be simple right?  Do what I say.  Listen. Learn. Now go do it. But is it ever that simple? No, of course not! You know that it's not that easy only after a few hours of being a parent. You feed your newborn and a few minutes later they cry. Why are you crying?!! I just fed you! You should be content and ready for the next 2 hours, or 3 if we are lucky.  Then they get a little older and you've told them to stay in their toddler bed and all they want to do is be out of that mini bed.  If you are a mom, you know it's not an easy job. In fact, it's really difficult for so many reasons.  We all know it's hard. Even if you're not a parent, you know that it's hard. We've all seen the annoyed face of a dad holding their crying kid in a restaurant as the mom looks on with concern and embarrassment.

So what do we do with this challenging job? Do we read a few articles to get some clarity and new ideas? I think titles that include 5 bullet points are silly and here I am writing one. There are no 5 easy steps. But getting some time to reflect and think can be useful. I value thinking through the big picture of things like what I want my kids to learn and see while they are in our home. It gives me perspective in the difficult moments like how I should respond when my son throws a bike lock at our tv.  I spend time not only thinking about areas that they should grow in but also areas that I myself want to grow in so that I can be a better mom.   Here are a few areas that I am challenged by and want to continue to grow in.  There is probably nothing new here but it's always good to be reminded of how to love our kids well.

1. Accept that you're not perfect.

Anyone could watch me for less than 5 minutes and see that I'm not perfect.  Watch me in the kitchen. Bowls break. Cupboards are left open. I clean up just enough so that it looks clean (just don't look too close). When I bake I don't know what happens but there is flour everywhere. In my hair, on my shirt, on the floor, ya everywhere.  I don't know how those chefs on the cooking shows keep their space so clean. Recently after cleaning the kitchen floor I asked Mike how it looked. He didn't know that I had just cleaned it otherwise I’m sure he would have been more careful with his response which was, "It's looks dirty."  Ugh! Dirty? I just cleaned it! Keeping a kitchen floor clean is far easier than raising a child. I'm going to mess this parenting thing up-a lot. I'm going to make it about me and get angry when they don't do as I say. I'm going to be too easy on them sometimes because it's often easier to say yes than no. I'm going to rush them off to school because we are late even if it's at the expense of not connecting with them before they leave my sight. My goal mustn't be perfection. My goal is to know that I am still loved and worthy even when I mess up.  My goal is to show my kids the same. They are still loved even when they mess up.

2. Take a look at your expectations.

Some say I have too high of expectations. Well...I’ll be honest, it's my husband who says I have high expectations but he’s right. I expect too much from myself and from others. I forget about point number one-that I don’t have to be perfect. In fact, as my mind frame changes, I’m realizing that it's my imperfections that people usually connect with and are drawn to.  My kids aren't an exception.  I not only have unrealistic expectations for myself but for my children as well.  I expect my kids to get their seat belts on without a reminder from me every time we jump in the van as if they have never done this before.  If my expectations are that they will jump right in and sit down then I’m going to be exhausted and potentially angry every time we go anywhere. I'm not suggesting doing away with expectations for your kids (or yourself-sometimes need you need to put the coffee down and do a load of laundry). In fact, I think letting your kids know what is expected of them is not only helpful but thoughtful. However, I think my expectations can be altered. I can still want them and expect them to get their seat belts on but I can also expect that they won't learn things over night.  I can expect that they will need gentle reminders. I can expect that it would be helpful to come up with different games and ideas to motive them.  I can expect to love them in spite of their forgetfulness.

3. Children are complex. Study your children.

I love manuals. Why? Because they make things easier. They tell you what you should expect. Give you a list to check if something goes wrong. They explain the warranty and best of all, they give you instructions. Before I left the hospital with my newborn, they explained how to bathe him, feed him, and gave me a whole kit of formula. But they failed to give me a manual for how to raise my child. Sometimes I think we forget how complex our kids are. They are like us except they don’t know yet the rules of this world. One thing I love about being a mom is to study my kids. What makes them tick? What is their love language?. I want to know what makes them giggle and what makes them nervous.  I want to know what they typically need from me when they get worked up.  One of my children needs to be wrapped in my arms and to snuggle. Another one of my children needs to be affirmed of my love for them. And another one just needs to talk and I need to listen.  I try to stop working sometimes to really watch my kids. To really listen to them. I want to learn all about them. I even imagine sometimes what it must be like to be their height, walking around this house, with me as their mother.  There is no manual given at birth but I can take time to study each one of them to learn how to best care for each of them.

4. Stop feeling guilty. 

Maybe this isn't you but I feel guilty all the time. Here is a big one for me lately....our kids aren't in any extracurricular activities. I feel like they are missing out on something that every other kid is experiencing. It seems like everybody has their kid in some sort of sport or activity by age 4. Well, my oldest is almost 8 and umm...ya...he isn't signed up for anything yet. I hear myself and other moms say we are guilty for giving them pop tarts for breakfast or for letting them watch too much tv. We can feel guilty for not playing with them or for yelling at them or for working too much.  I think the list can be endless. It's not helpful to just say stop feeling guilty as if I can stop the feeling from coming. But I think it is worth taking some time to see where we feel guilty. And then it's helpful for me to talk with friends to help process my feelings of guilt and to get someone’s perspective.

5. Get away from your kids.

I hear this one all the time. I don't know where I hear this, but I hear it. They say, you have to take care of yourself in order to take care of your family. You take the first puff of oxygen before giving it to your kids.  This is one area my husband is amazing in. He gives me time to replenish, rejuvenate, and relax.  I need, especially as an introvert, to get time alone. That's why I love going to the gym. Watching a tv show is relaxing to me or taking a bath. Even a cup of coffee can feel like I'm taking care of myself. And one of my favorites is to go out dancing!  If I don't get breaks, then I break.  What do you need in order to feel rested? What is one step you can take to get there?  I know this can be so difficult especially when I had really little kids at home. I'd be lucky to get a few minutes to myself. But I think it’s worth getting creative so that you can get some time to yourself.

3 Seconds to Say Yes

Recently, I read one of those parenting articles posted on Facebook that was really quite touching, although I can't really remember what it was about anymore. But I remember the mother talking about how she would  get angry with her kids. She was learning to stop herself in those angry moments for 3 seconds before responding to her children and it was helping her to relate better with her kids. At least that's what I took away from the article. So I began thinking about the potential benefit of pausing for 3 seconds in other areas. So I tried it out yesterday.

Grace asked if I could go upstairs with her to help put her pjs on. She's very capable of doing this on her own. She's not only 5 years old but she's also Grace. You know what I'm talking about if you know Grace. We had finished eating dinner and I was cleaning up the kitchen. By this time of day, I'm usually exhausted because the last 3 hours have been intense and non stop...pick up fully emotional kids from school, give starving kids snack, sit and pretend the boring homework is not boring,  prepare dinner again, eat dinner while managing 3 kids, clean up. Tired.  When Grace asked me the unthinkable, which was to stop what I was doing, my automatic response would have been no! I want to finish cleaning up the kitchen so I can rest my feet and plop on the couch. Magically, I remembered that Facebook article and decided to try the 3 second rule out. For 3 seconds, I tried putting myself into Grace's head. She wanted to be with her mommy and didn't want to be alone.  What a sweet desire. I looked at her tender face, placed down the dirty dish on top of all the other dishes, dried my hands, and raced her upstairs.  

My husband is a yes man. He brought Stephen into our bed late the other night to snuggle with him (he's the closest thing to a baby we have). Stephen asked for ice cream and Mike and I looked at each other with a 'why not' expression we both understood.  So we woke up the 2 other kids at 10pm and went to the McDonald's drive thru and everyone got an ice cream sundae.  What a fun memory!

My kids ask me a thousand questions a day and it seems my automatic response can be no.  Most of the time I say no because it's a sacrifice for me. It can be harder to say yes. I don't always want to play house, or  monopoly, or paint our nails again.  I'm not at all saying I should never tell my kids no. There is great benefit and necessity to saying no at times. There is also wisdom in taking care of myself and knowing my limits so I don't become scary mom.  But when I say no, have I thought about why I'm saying no?  Am I thinking about myself or am I thinking about the precious hearts that are entrusted in my care?  In 3 seconds, I can remember that people are more important than a clean house. In 3 seconds, I can remember that I'm not the only one to consider. I would love for my kids to have memories of midnight ice cream sundaes and laying on the floor with mommy reading a book in their tent they made.  I think it will take much more than 3 seconds to get me to love my kids well... but I think it may be one good place to start.

Wait...what? I'm not perfect?

Sometimes I wish our thoughts were made visual for others to see. Of course, overall, I know this would be a terrible idea-to see all the thoughts that others are thinking about you, themselves, and others. But what I would love about this is that I think it would remind us we are all very similar. I think so many of women's thoughts would be put at ease if we knew that most other women had the same thoughts and struggles.  We can be quick to judge someone without knowing they are very much like us.  We all desire to be accepted. We all have insecurities. We all want to matter to someone. We all have pressures from society. It doesn't matter what part of the city you live in.  How much money you make. How intelligent you are. How old or young you are. We all have fundamental similarities.


I too wish my kids' thoughts were visible for me to see and understand. Many times their thoughts come out loudly and unrefined. They didn't get the memo that they are supposed to be perfect.  But because I can't read their thoughts, I'm constantly trying to interpret these outward expressions of something going on inside them. "MOM! She just hit me so I'm not going to be friends with her anymore, ever again!" So what is my little, yet full brained child trying to say to me?  Here's a guess..."Mom, when she hit me I felt sad and like she didn't care about me. I don't want to feel that way again so I'm going to tell her I don't want to be around her."   So it's my job to listen, understand, and then enter their world.  I want to enter into what it might feel like being their age and try to understand their way of seeing things, because chances are they are interpreting their world different than I would.  And after I try (try is the key word here) to help them navigate those thoughts and feelings, I tell them I don't like feeling bad either. I tell them they're not alone. We talk about what they can do with how they feel.  This is not an easy or quick task, but I believe this is one of the ways I can truly love them well.  Once I connect with them emotionally, I can usually redirect their thoughts to some logic.

I think it's easy for us to remember our kids are imperfect, probably because they constantly remind us. So why are we surprised when our husbands or friends aren't perfect? I remember a good friend of mine and I were talking a while back and after sharing some things with her she asked, "Well, you don't expect to be perfect, do you?"  I actually had to think about that for a second. Ya, I think I do. I know I'm not perfect (far from it), but I think I expect perfection. I think I'm often hard on myself and surprised or embarrassed by my mistakes (like my many grammar and spelling errors on this blog). And what can be as equally damaging is when I expect other adults around me to be perfect.

It shouldn't be a surprise that our goal is perfection, or something close to it.  It only takes a few minutes of turning on the television to see how to get a better body, remodel your home, make a delicious dinner, have the best toys for your kids. Message is delivered....be better, do better.  And although that can be suffocating, I think the original desire is good...wanting something that is whole, right, good, pure.   The problem lies when I look to myself or others to fill that desire for me.  My kids will most certainly disappointment me if my expectation is perfection, to be like their siblings, to act like the neighbor kids who seems calmer.  So my expectation, my desire, is to accept them and love them even when they aren't perfect.  To not be surprised when they throw fits and can't control their emotions.  My love for them and acceptance doesn't depend on their behavior, it depends on who they are. And they are mine.

all in a row

This is an old post I found that was in my drafts. Thought I'd go ahead and put it on here....

Mike had to work all day Saturday so it was up to me to get the kids dressed and ready to go to a pool party.  The morning started off rough but I was hoping that by the time we had to leave, all my ducks would be in a row. My ducks never got into anything that resembled a row. My row looked more like kids spreading like wild fire when they see a bubble bee. I asked one of my kids to put on their swim gear and they wouldn't do it, threw a fit instead. Really? You won't put on your swim clothes so that you are able to swim on a hot Florida day, eat cake and ice cream, and play with your friends. (You're right, how dare I make you put your swim gear on so that you have to go to a birthday party.)

Our mind is so intriguing. Even more so, our emotions.  We can ignore, accept, devour, or wallow in how we feel.  I can be thinking about something, and then be thinking about my thinking. I can assess if what I'm thinking is valid, reasonable. I can try to convince someone else that what I'm feeling is appropriate. There is so much power in what we think. In what we feel. It can affect everything.

So why did my little duckling refuse to put her swim gear on?  It obviously didn't make sense if you just look at the facts. And it was obvious she was feeling a lot of emotions.  I had to go back and think about what happened a few seconds prior to the blowout.  She was trying to tell me something and I wasn't listening because I was wrapping the birthday present. Once I realized someone was talking to me (sometimes I can zone out my kids voices) I told her that now wasn't the time to talk but to get her suit on.  I think this little duck was hurt. Her mommy wasn't listening and aware of her presence. Then when I was aware that she was talking, I told her to be quiet and get her suit on. That's when the duck fell to the floor and began quacking, loudly. 

What do I do with this moment, this situation? How do I best care for this specific duck?  (ha, maybe start by not call my children ducks)  Here is where parenting is tough for me!!! I wish I could pull out my manual for "how to parent the 'ugly' duckling," (because I would follow it well) but unfortunately there is no easy answer.  Do I make this about obedience and tell her she should run to the bathroom to put her suit on? Or do I give her a hug and tell her I'm sorry I didn't drop everything to listen to her?  Do I leave her to quack alone or do I embrace her? There is no 'right' answer. I have the freedom to think  about what's best for her at that time in that situation and do the best I can.  Each one of my ducks are unique just as each situation is new.  Each situation with my kids is like pulling out a jelly bean from the bag, you never know what you'll get.

I am amazed by how complex my kids minds and hearts are.  Goodness, I'm so complex too.  There are so many components to who we are. There are many pages to each of our stories.  I really think it is a miracle that we can have healthy (whatever healthy means) relationship with anyone at all because of this.  How can so many emotions be wrapped up in such a small little body?   My kids remind me that we are full of emotions all the time. We don't always make sense. We aren't always logical. We think, feel, respond.  And that is ok. I don't want my ducklings to always be in a quiet, straight line (well, I kinda do). I want them to squawk, lean a little to the right or left, be unique, be themselves. My goal now might be to get them in a line behind me.  But one day, I hope they make their own lines with their own little ducklings following them.  Their line may be loud, quiet, full of logic or emotions, organized or a mess...but whatever it is, they will always be my ducklings.

What happens when your babies aren't babies anymore

You know how life is always changing and sometimes we forget to take a moment to look back at what's behind us. I’m in this weird (at least it’s weird for me) transition.  For so long my life consisted of desperate prayers to sleep through the night, nursing, making baby food, nursing again, packing the diaper bag, and trying to get poop stains out of clothes. When Stephen was born, Nathan was only 3 ½ and Grace was 19 months.  My world felt very small. Get sleep, feed the babies, throw some laundry in the washer, get the babies on the same sleep schedule, survive….oh, and have somewhat of a social life in there to keep me sane. At times I was exhausted from thinking through the ‘right’ choices for my kids. Everything was new. I don’t donew and unknown very well.  Don’t get me wrong, I loved this season in my life. I miss this time in my life.  I loved having small kids! I love babies. I loved watching all their milestones and finding out what their little personalities were like. I loved getting compliments and glances of how cute they were out in public. In fact, I think I would have a few more babies (minus the pregnancy part).

But life is so different now. It’s like in Willy Wonka when they are on his boat that heads down a dark tunnel and Willy starts singing that creepy song. The boat is moving so fast, so quickly, and you’re not sure how long it’s going to last or what’s on the other side? That’s how I feel looking back at having babies. It was a little scary, yet in reality was a very short period of time, and a little creepy. Just kidding about the creepy part! I felt like this was how my life was going to be for a very long time. (like forever!)   But life is different now.  I have no children in diapers. No children in cribs. No one taking naps (except for me!). Only one is home with me during the day. Two are reading. Three are happy. Life feels so different, easier.  That time of my life when I had tinny ones at home is like a common language to all mothers.  Everyone experiences little sleep, sore bodies, helpless moments, and everybody is talking about it. I see it on Facebook or blogs.  It’s like doing battle together. Once a mom, always a mom. But I don’t find this commonality with moms as much once the kids are a little older. I don’t think it's because that commonality isn't there, but because our worlds have opened up.  Our worlds aren’t so small anymore. The creepy boat ride down Willy Wonka’s chocolate river has ended. 

I know I’m talking as if I’m that teenager who thinks they have now entered adulthood.  My oldest is only 7 (he's still my baby). None of my kids are pre-teens, graduated, or have gotten their drivers licenses.   They aren’t grown and out of the house. I’m still full-on in this parenting thing.  But this is the first time that our family has shifted out of the baby phase and into the school aged phase.  No one really talks about that. 

So what would I say to the mom that is in the boat listening to Willy Wonka sing? I’d say it does end.  There will be a day when everyone is out of diapers and they no longer want to watch Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood (which is a great show by the way). So take heart, the season of sleepless nights and all your babies getting sick and crying will come to an end. One day your one year old will no longer yell with frustration because they know what they want but can't communicate it to you. Your two year old will stop throwing food at the table.  Cherish those little souls. Cherish and look at all the millions of blessing around you each day…The sounds your baby makes when they have a full belly, the look of comfort on their faces, the way your one year old plops down uninhibitedly on your lap. Because it does end. And you can’t go back. It’s a one way ticket. 

What a blessing and joy my kids are to me. I woke up this morning and couldn’t wait to see them. I couldn’t wait to hug them, hear their little boisterous voices, and explore life with them today. What an amazing job motherhood is, raising human beings. I want to cherish, soak in, listen, and to love them well in this new territory we are in even if it feels like a scary, fast, creepy boat ride at times.