Ten Random Minutes: To Shovel or Not to Shovel

image: mrboll.com

Forgive me for interrupting my own train of though yet again, but that's just the way this random brain of mine works…..


This morning, I ran across a question from a woman who's new to my area. She asked if anyone was renting from an apartment complex around here where the sidewalks are being kept up in this snow we're experiencing.

Everyone was replying that no, they were not.

Then, another woman chimed in that she used to manage in Washington state and that it is foolish to try to. When a manager shovels and attempts to de-ice the walkways, sometimes they can become more slick. A person can fall and sue.

WHAT?!

Then you think well, what happens when they don't and someone falls, can't they be sued for that as well. Really, we're just damned if we do, and we're damned if we don't. Screwy!

I have a friend who manages apartments, and I know for a fact that she was out shoveling her walks last night. She called us because she wanted advice on how to do it best. Clearly, this woman cares about her tenants. She also has a kind heart and doesn't think about the other side of that coin--that there are rude and vindictive people out there.

Here's what really bugs, though….It seems that once something is in the legal books, there it remains to draw upon for time immemorial.

How do we change things like this? I feel like it's kind of like cleaning out the fridge….You have so much old nasty stuff on the records--things that really shouldn't be there--that the mold and scum dominate, and the good stuff can't be found.

Clearly, my friend isn't out to make someone fall. If anything, she's attempting to make her tenants lives easier. Yet, the written laws make her out as a criminal for doing a kind act--this can be applied in so many situations in our world. It's maddening.

I believe that laws should be out to punish criminals--those who do things to intentionally screw people over. Now that this law is in the books, though, we have punished kindness.

Wow! This just gets me all riled up inside.

I shared about my friend after this woman's comment, and she urged me to warn my friend against doing it. If she gets sued, she could "lose everything."

This is so frustrating!

Ten Random Minutes: Sad Missionary Moms

This is as tough-love post. If you get your feelings hurt easily, either gird up your loins and trudge forward, being willing and ready to forgive, or don't read this post.

Consider yourself forewarned…..




Okay, I'm straying from the Facebook topic. If I have time to get back to that today, I'll complete those thoughts then.

I think for today, with my ten minutes, I want to throw a bit more of a preface out there.

I have a peeve. I'm not sure how or why I have this peeve, but I do. I know I used to do it, and maybe I still do at times, but somehow I've learned a bit of how to overcome it. I think it's from being married to the kind of guy who doesn't do this.

In short, I can't stand it when people sit around and gripe or moan or complain about things just to gripe or moan or complain.

Let me clarify…..I think it's a complete waste of time to just sit there feeling sorry for yourself with no intentions of doing anything to make your situation better.

Let me clarify further…..I miss my daughter. I do. But, the alternative, that of having her come home, would be MUCH worse! I love what she's doing and where she is. I love that she's touching lives and having her own changed at the same time--exponentially. I love that she's serving the Lord and growing closer to Him and really creating a relationship with Him. What could be better than that?….Being home? NO WAY!

There are times when I chime in on my Facebook wall that I miss her. I do. No question. She's one of my very dearest, closest, sweetest friends, but I'm not going to sit and perseverate on the idea that she's gone and "woe is me," etc. What a TOTAL waste of time! So, I can promise you that, while I may write that, I'm not sitting there wiping my face on my sleeve, dripping saltwater on the couch. It's really just because some Taylor Swift song has come on the radio and my daughter has entered my mind.

Lately, I've run across a lot of crying, wailing missionary moms. Don't
get me wrong. I don't mean to criticize. Everyone deals with stuff in different ways, and if that works for you, great. But, eventually, you've got to put your big girl panties on and leave your kid to the Lord and His teaching. Yes, every situation is different, but regardless, when he/she accepted that call, Heavenly Father promised that come what may, He's got his/her back. Trust!

In this day, we are very close technologically to everyone. You know lots of things that are in my closet, and I know some of what's in yours, but sometimes there has to be a distance. For example, my daughter's Mission President is in our Facebook group. Not many greater men exist, as far as I'm concerned. What a privilege for my daughter to get to serve under such a man's leadership. Because he's in the group, I could, at any moment, Facebook message him and ask him the scoop. I could tell him how I feel things should be. I totally could, and I'm aware of this power that Facebook has given to all of us. But, when my daughter submitted those mission papers, I committed that this was her baby--not mine. She belongs to the Lord, not me. I need to take a few giant steps backward.

No, I am not the kind who likes to sit around feeling sorry for myself. If there's something I can DO to feel productive and something I can DO to help alleviate those feelings, I will. I have heard the words: "Wow! My mom was never that involved in my mission" from a few people. Back in the day of handwritten letters, envelopes, and stamps, they couldn't be. But when I receive a transfer letter about my daughter from the mission home, it encourages us to "be a part of your daughter’s missionary service by writing to your daughter’s investigators and new converts, and express your love and your testimony of the Gospel."

This gives me an opportunity to be an influence for good on my daughter's mission. Am I in her face trying to control her actions or what happens to her next? No. I figure, I am not involved in "my daughter's" mission. I am, however, involved with the Philippines Olongapo Mission. I care about the people of that area of the world, and I care about those who serve there. I want to see everyone there succeed.

Because of that, there have been experiences that have opened up. There have been things to do. There have been wonderful experiences. Do these involve my daughter? No, not directly, but they do touch the lives of those she serves and those she serves with, and therefore, yes, they do involve her.

If you're sitting around missing a missionary, isn't that wonderful? Wonderful that you have that kind of bond in a world where so many don't….but seriously, would you ever want to deny him/her this experience? This once in a lifetime chance?

If you're looking for something to do to get past those feelings, get up and do. There is so much good to be done, and you have so much good to give. Use your energy on blessing someone's life instead of feeling so sorry about yours.

There are missionaries everywhere. There are some who receive nothing from home. There are some for whom there is no "home." Have you wondered about them? That is where your energy can be well spent. Then, there are those your missionary rubs shoulders with daily--people they teach, members in the ward they're serving in. How can you buoy them up? How can you let them know that you know they exist and that you care about them.

There really is so much to be done. This is just one small way to keep the good going and growing in this world.

Ten Random Minutes: Blessings of Being a Missionary Mom

I have so much to share, but I sit down, and it overwhelms me. There is so much! So many miracles and tender mercies that I've witnessed. How do I capture it all? If I only write part and then drop the ball, will I remember it later? At this point, because I haven't been writing, I fear that I've forgotten so much already. I feel that I won't do what's happened justice.

Well, I'm going to go for it. Believe it or not, where I am in life right now requires that I set myself a timer. I can't neglect my other duties by sitting here and writing for too long, but I'm going to trust that as I write, details will come back to me, and I will trust that ten measly minutes will be enough to say what needs to be said. There will be ten minutes more tomorrow.


Seriously, I don't know where to begin.

Awhile back, I mentioned my daughter's mission and how it has brought blessings. I really want to expound upon that, so that you can understand and so that I have a record of just what blessings I've been aware of. Many of these blessings include others. I have not spoken to these people to get their permission to use their names, so for now, I will merely describe them and their roles in these things that have happened. If you know that one of these people I describe is you, and you don't mind my using your name, please contact me.

I don't know if I ever shared how much I doubted as I sent in my papers for my own mission. I really wondered if it was the right path for me. I am the kind of person who wants to know "why" about everything. It's just my nature. Once I understand why, I move forward whole-heartedly. Back all those years ago, I didn't know why. I prayed and moved forward, never really receiving the confirmation that what I was doing was right. I never got the "no" either, so I continued.

All these years later, I see the difference. As a mom to a missionary, I feel her pains and her joys. I feel them deeply, empathetically. I understand. I also trust in the learning process that she is experiencing. Been there; done that. I don't doubt that she feels tuggings in her heart to do certain things and to turn from other things. Knowing my daughter, I understand that she is much better at this than I ever was, and it makes me so happy to have that assurance.

I also understand that our trip to Japan together was inspired. I now understand at least part of the why of that. She needed to go for both of us. As for me, I needed to see her in action. I needed to see how she responded to this new situation in a new country. I needed to see her adapt and strive to learn the language (even if only for a very short time). I needed to see her knit together with a people that were foreign to her. She didn't let the language become a barrier. She served with all her heart. She was willing to sacrifice her own comfort for theirs.

I have no doubt that she is where she is supposed to be now. Unlike me, she doesn't need to know the whys of this call. She knows strongly that she is where she is supposed to be. I am so pleased with this. She is made of far tougher stuff than I ever was.

With this, her call, have come opportunities for service for our whole family. They have been like seeds that are gradually planted but quickly grow and bloom. This is where it becomes hard to write. Which do I start with? How do I transmit, through writing, the nature of these things so that you understand that none of these really have anything to do with me…..I didn't start them. Well, in some cases, most cases, it was a matter of walking forward and finding myself involved in something that has evolved into something much larger…..In short, miracles. They weren't planned. They just moved--like walking into a dark room and the automatic light turns on, and you find that you're surrounded with amazing things you weren't aware even existed.


Here is a short list of what I want to cover in these 10 minute sessions:
packages
Facebook groups
Tacloban
Tacloban missionaries
brothers


My 10 minutes is up for today. I'm thinking this is going to be therapeutic. So many things have been swirling around my head lately. I need to get them out.

Lately, I have been feeling that there is so much evil growing in this world. For the bulk of society to deny the existence of an evil force is dangerous. Somehow, this seems to make his influence grow. The only thing I can compare it to is kind of like at the end of a cartoon, you know how the screen darkens and a large circle of light shrinks around the final scene? That's how this feels.

I have had so many frustrating things I've wanted to write about--stupid things society is choosing to do, but I have decided that my energy is better focused keeping that circle from shrinking too quickly. I feel like I need to reach inside and keep my hand there on the good to keep the circle from closing never to reopen. If enough of us can cling to the good that still exists, it won't close completely.

So, I will share these things that have brought me so much joy these past few months. I will share the good that still exists, and more than anything else, I will share that there is still hope and still so much that we are being cared for and watched after by a power much bigger than we are. Miracles have not ceased.

What You Get for a Handful of Kibble

#4 went to take the garbage out last night. It was cold.

He walked in saying, "Umm…I found a dog." As he walked around the corner, sure enough, in his arms, facing out toward us, was the cutest little Ewok face. It was a cute scene. Brevin had his other arm under the pooch's bum.

The pup was cold, and it smelled bad.

We knew, because of our dog, that this one couldn't stay the night at our house. I had seen a similar pup in the neighborhood that an older gentleman walks around frequently. I thought this must be his, so #4 and I set out down the steps at about 9:30 heading toward where we thought the man lived.

The dog, however, had other ideas. No matter how much we pleaded or attempted to direct, the pup went the opposite direction, lifting its leg on everything that didn't move.

#4 ran back into the house to grab a handful of kibble…..We're out of dog treats. He shoved it into his coat pocket.

Our block is rather large and hilly all around. The man's house we were looking for is simply across the street and down the way just a bit. That would be the easy way. C'mon, dog!

Nope. He would have nothing to do with it. We rounded the corner and headed up a hill….trailing the dog as we went. #4 didn't dare pick it up again because it would nip at him and growl--it had turned into a mean mop on legs. I'm not sure how he got it into his arms at the beginning of this adventure. Poor thing must have been desperate.

After following to the top of the hill, as we headed down the other side, #4 started tapping his foot at the dog. I asked, "What are you doing?" #4's response: "Well, it doesn't answer to anything else. I'm wondering if the old man's taught it Morse code. I just said, 'S.O.S.'"

It's dark. It's cold…..And here's my son cracking jokes.

The pooch leads us up the same street almost to the end. I'm thinking it will lead us around a corner and then another, and then we'll be near his house. C'mon, dog!

Nope. The dog turns around and starts heading back up the hill. WHAT?!

I am SO done with this little knee biter…..I'm ready to leave. He's attempting to pee on every bush and tree, and I have no patience for this. It's cold. I just want to get home.

I start to walk away telling #4 that we have a neighborhood group on the Internet. I'll post something there.

#4 heads back in the dog's direction. "I'm sorry, Mom. I can't just leave him out here in the cold. Poor little guy." He heads back up the hill and disappears into the darkness on the opposite side of the street. First, emerging out of the shadows comes the little white hair ball, shortly thereafter comes my boy.

It's at this moment when I begin to realize what I'm raising. I also realize that this has nothing to do with me (clearly….I'm ready to hit the road), but here's a boy who has almost been bitten three times during his act of kindness, his hand smells like dog food, he's cold, but he's ready to stand by this little beast's side and make sure it gets home safely.

And people criticize women for having more than the socially correct 2.1 children…..

I tell #4 that when the dog goes up on someone's porch, we'll knock on that door to see if he's found his owner.

As we head back down the hill, returning in the same direction we came, the dog approaches a house with Christmas lights. Every light is on inside.

He wanders around for awhile….I'm well down the street by this time. I'm heading for home, but #4's holding back watching the dog's every move. Sure enough, within a couple minutes, the dog climbs the stairs to the porch. #4 hollers out to me at what the dog's done.

"Go knock on the door," I direct him.

"Come with me?" He hollers back.

I return to the house knowing that this can't be this dog's house. He belongs to the tall, white-haired man down the street. We're going to be out here for a LONG time, and these people are going to be mad that we are knocking on their door at 10:00 at night, but all the lights are on, so it's not like we'll be waking anybody, so we go for it.

He climbs the stairs, opens the storm door, and knocks. The little dog, tail noticeably wagging under all that hair, looks back at us. His little way of thanking us, I guess.

A man with a long, dark beard and a green stocking cap opens the door. He looks down at the dog and as #4 attempts to spit out the question, "Is this your dog?" opens the door and the dog disappears inside. The man utters a "Thanks," and the door shuts.

That's it.

As we go to return home, just as we're rounding the corner, #4 grabs a handful of kibble out of his pocket, "Here."

"Uh uh! You can take care of that yourself."

"Ooh. My hands stink like dog food…..Can you believe he didn't even know Morse code, Mom? Dumb dog."

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Silliness!

image: superstock.com

Once upon a time, within the last ten years or so, there was a tropical storm in Florida that caused a huge amount of damage. One thing was reported in the news. It went a little something like this--During the time of clean up, two organizations were apparent more than any other, one was the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and the other was the Mormons.

I remember the Warden reading this to me. We both had a good chuckle over it.

During the past two weeks, I've been a bit miffed by something....I have heard from two different sources that the newest thing that Pastors are telling their congregations is that members of the LDS church (the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, a.k.a. the "Mormons") don't go to heaven.

PUH-leeze! First of all, these words don't scare me because I know better than to rely on the "arm of flesh," and I know that ultimately God is going to make that decision. Second of all, I'd really like to see that list and how this was decided. Fascinating!

I figure that's pretty prideful of someone to say such a thing...."Neener, neener! I'm going to heaven, but you're not." Silliness!

image: blog.al.com

So, I wonder, when the day comes that I'm helping you dig your house out of the rubble from an earthquake or a tropical storm or a tsunami, are you still going to be telling me that I'm not going to heaven?

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Up

image: mlive.com

I'm up....Kids crying my name in the middle of the night.... Coughing.... Needing to be covered up again after getting up to use the bathroom.....

This has been my night so far, so I'm up.

Just as I start to doze off to sleep again, I hear my name again in the darkness...."Maaaahm. I need you...."

I finally got her settled in my bed and then thoughts start to creep in as I think about her.....What can I do better? How can I be a better mom to her?

I don't worry about where I've gone wrong, but yes, there's been plenty of that in our history. It is destructive to think that way. It makes me want to stop trying altogether.

image: ct.gov

I figure so many parts of being a mom are like quitting smoking. You know, they say even if you've smoked for years, if you stop right now, there are still benefits to your health.

That's how it is with moms.

Let me explain.....There are things I've been lousy at lately. I will openly admit that. It's okay for me to admit that; it may even be healthy for me to do so, but to dwell on it and scrape up every little thing I'm doing wrong does nothing but bring me down. Not healthy. Discouraging.

What I do instead is look ahead. What can I do differently from here on out?

image: gbi.photoshelter.com

I'm learning that the mother is the rock. I don't care what society says these days. It seems that we're at a point where everyone says that a mother and a father can do the same jobs equally well. I don't agree. Mothers have their jobs. Fathers have theirs. It's that way for a reason. Yes, there are situations where children only have one or the other, and in those situations there is no choice, but when there is a choice, to children, mothers are the rock.

I am setting the basis upon which my children can build their lives in their early years. I teach them the basics. I am their moral guide and teacher. I lay the foundation of their characters.

Think that what I do doesn't matter? Think I can be lazy and half-hearted in this job I've undertaken?.... Guess again.

image: whchurch.org

In the past few days, I've seen two examples of where, unintentionally, I've set a poor example for my children. I saw it on Sunday during church, and I cringed. As I saw it, I had no choice but to admit that it was my stubbornness and pride that taught my children that. I saw it again when, because I was verbal about my disagreement with how someone did something, my poor example made my son choose to be unforgiving of a person. In some ways, I have poisoned my children, and it is my job to set those things right and get myself and my children back on the right path.

I have heard said that it "takes a village to raise a child," and I get that, but if that foundation isn't set by someone in their lives, it will never be there. Ideally, that person is their mother.

image: myfrienddebbie.com

So, I'm up....thinking over this job I have. What do my children build on? What do I want them to have as their foundation? What are the guiding principles I believe they need? What are the things that I will stop everything else for to correct my children about? I think of respect, personal responsibility, and obedience. These are my tenets. These are the things I need to more actively and consistently teach them. These are the things that I need to continually keep in check in myself and in my children.

I will be honest, I haven't been doing a very good job. I've been lazy and let things slip through the cracks. I've been hoping that some magical lesson in life would teach them, but that's not happening. It really is my responsibility. I can't pass the buck. It belongs to me. But, knowing this and facing it,  I can now do better. Starting today. Just like quitting smoking, even at this point, there will be benefits.

I'm getting too old to be up like this, but I can't stop. That's not what motherhood's about. My commitment is to each of these little people that call me "Mom," or in the middle of the night, "Maaahm." My responsibility is to those who keep me up.

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What I Learned from the Happiest Place on Earth

Yes! We finally did it! Mission accomplished....we went to Disneyland!

This trip was seriously YEARS in the making. Do you know how much it costs to take a family of nine to the happiest place on earth? Woah! That's some HUGE saving. But, we did it, and it was GREAT!

As we arrived the first night, I just kept pinching myself. Were we really there?

We had a BLAST! Everything went without a hitch, and when all was said and done, I had no regrets. We got to do everything we wanted to.

While we were standing in a line on our last day, the Warden got to talking to one of the guys who was supervising the line. The "cast member" (as they call all those who work at Disneyland) shared quite a bit of insight into the Disneyland mindset.

He shared that all who work there are "cast members" because they
feel that everyday they are part of a big show. Every day, when they come to work, their job is to entertain their "guests."

What a service these people provide. Their focus isn't on themselves or how they feel about ANYTHING. It's all about those who stand in their lines, walk on their paths, watch their performances, etc., etc., etc.

Once I knew this, Disneyland became a different place. These people were there to serve me and make sure I had a great time.

As we approached the place where you meet princesses, I walked up to the "royal page" and said, "Hey! How's it going?" He was a young man in his late teens by the look of him. I had momentarily forgotten that this young man was in costume. He was playing a part. His job was to stay in character and make me feel that I was truly going to be meeting some royal princesses. My greeting was met with "Welcome, dear lady," and he ushered me into the line I was to wait in.

Of course he did. It was his job to be a character in this play of the day at Disneyland.

Another thing the cast member had shared with the Warden while we waited earlier was that he was known as the "lead." In other words, as far as that ride went, he was the main character. He was the guy in charge. Of course, he had others he answers to but his responsibility was to lead in that particular area of the park. Others, he mentioned, had parts they were responsible for but his place was there. It was his specialty. He understood all there was to know about that one job.


All of these things have been jelling in my mind....

• What if I were to face every day as if I were a cast member in a much larger show?
• What if I were to focus my efforts on making sure that others were enjoying the performance that is life?
• What if I were to stay in character no matter how others interacted with me?
• What if I were to accept the responsibility for being the "lead" in my life?
• What if, as lead, I came to understand my role so well that I can make those things I'm responsible for run flawlessly?

I felt safe the entire time I was there. It was clear that each cast member knew his/her role. There was more than one time when I got on a ride with #7 and was concerned for her safety. It was then that I realized that I needed to learn to trust more. I needed to trust that those "leads" and "cast members" had done their jobs. They followed the rules and learned their parts and their main focus was me and my family and all the other individuals and families who came to enjoy their time there.

I have my own kingdom here. It CAN be the happiest place on earth. It is my own little show, and I am one of the leads. As lead, I'm in charge. I can make things go the way I want them to--any way I envision them. As lead, though, there are responsibilities that I need to take on that will keep the other cast members and those who visit my kingdom safe. One of the best things I can do is learn my part and be consistent in seeing to my role.


I now see that I also need to learn to be trustworthy--to learn my job and do it every day without fail. I need my children to know that as the lead, I have done my part and they can ride the ride of life without fear. They can trust that I have prepared them for the ride ahead.

Now that we're home, it feels like it was all a dream. Did we really go? 

Thank you to the Magic Kingdom for helping me understand my own kingdom a little bit better.

I Cannot Be My Mother

My mother did EVERYTHING for us kids. Seriously, everything--laundry, dishes, cooking, cleaning, you name it, she did it. Yes, I was VERY spoiled. By the time I left home, I knew how to dust and set a dinner table. Please don't judge my mother by this. She was an only child raising six children. I firmly believe she was doing the best she knew how and those were different times.

Because of that, though, I decided that as a mother I would do things differently. My children would learn how to do for themselves, and for the most part, they have.

This morning started out rough and led me into my mother's life (for the second time). Let me explain....

We, the Warden and I, began with a conversation surrounding the topic of a habit one of our children is adopting that might not bode well for the future. Such is the case with bad habits, right? In discussing this, I explained my opinion that this wasn't something that could be forced. We had to somehow help this child come to the conclusion that this wasn't a good thing and that the child would have to somehow decide to change it. We could not force the change. All we could do was explain and attempt to persuade.

We finished our conversation, and I went to talk to the child. Things were easily understood, and an agreement was peacefully made. Phew! It honestly took about two minutes. But, I also added that if what we had agreed upon didn't work, we would have to come up with something more to take care of the problem. That also was understood. Did I already say "Phew?"

All was seemingly handled, but then it unraveled before my eyes. We walked to the kitchen, and the Warden completely sabotaged my efforts. That child stormed out of the house and walked to school--no breakfast, no lunch in hand, nothing. Ugh!

I'm sure the Warden didn't mean to sabotage me. We hadn't even had a chance to discuss the terms of the treaty I'd pushed for yet. Did I already say "Ugh?"

image: tumblr.com

Add to this picture the fact that when said child walked out the door, I thought all that had happened was that the child had gotten into the car for the customary ride to school. I sent #7 out with a peanut butter sandwich (very like my mom would have done), so that the child, who has sports after school wouldn't collapse while doing said sports.

#7, after a few moments, rang the doorbell, she had accidentally locked herself out. We opened the door, and there she was standing there with her little blonde head against the wall, tears spilling onto the uneaten sandwich. Her words as she sobbed: "[Child]'s not there."This was when I understood how angry the older child really was.

image: theatlantic.com

Let's add to this picture, shall we? Immediately after that car drove away with its occupants, the last remaining children were milling around the kitchen. One of those kids comes to me and says, "We never have breakfast." In other words, we never have sugary cereals anymore.

That was IT! Really? Why is it that no one else around here can do what I do? I mean, that was the idea behind this motherhood thing, right? Teach them to do for themselves? Are they really this helpless?

image: mrbreakfast.com

I walked into the kitchen and showed the breakfast-less child the English muffins, oatmeal and bread. I explained about a dozen things that could be done with those ingredients.

I would like to step back in time for a moment....

Back to this, which was my rebuttal to some really ugly comments on this from March 4, 2011:

image: wakemedvoices.org

I confess

I made my 2nd grader go without lunch today.

My children make their own lunches.  They are given enough lunch money through their accounts at school to buy four lunches or one lunch a week for the month.  This particular child overdraws his account monthly.  It's to the point that the recorded voice from the school district calls and leaves messages daily about his account being overdrawn--they call until it's been paid off.  I only pay on the first of the month, so sometimes we're five days into the month when the calls start in.  He was warned last month that if he overdrew, it would be his last month with lunch money in his account.  So, you can see what happened.

Today, I volunteered in his classroom.  He came to me and told me he'd forgotten his lunch.  I told him I wished he would have told me earlier, so I could have brought it with me when I came to volunteer.  It was then that I found out he hadn't even made one.  His teacher was standing there--sweetest person in the universe.  She told me that he'd forgotten yesterday too.  She explained that she hadn't called because she was pretty sure what I would say.  This teacher is very good friends and a former co-worker with my mother by marriage, so she knows how things roll with the Hesses.  So #5 went hungry at lunch yesterday too.

I have full confidence that he'll start getting this.  Yesterday his teacher gave him some crackers to get him through the afternoon.  I thanked her.  She said she could do that again.  I asked her to please have him do something for her to compensate her for the crackers.  She agreed.

Do I sound like the worst mother in the world?  It all goes back to the idea of feeling entitled.  I don't want any of my children thinking that they can have what they want if they manipulate the system just right.

So, there will be a nice, healthy snack for him when he gets home today.  Like I said, I sure hope he learns this lesson soon.


Have I softened since that time? Maybe, but I don't think so. I am stressed about a child who goes off without breakfast and won't be home until after 5:00 tonight and will be doing sports in the meantime. I, however, wouldn't stress about a child who's had breakfast and misses lunch to come home to a substantial snack and dinner a couple hours later.

But, the child that went off without, set me off.

I decided that I'm tired of being sabotaged. I decided that if I'm the only one who cares, then I will be the only one who works. I will become my mother for awhile and see if there's maybe something I'm missing. I will touch every base. Every child will have a clean room and will be well fed. I will make sure of it ALL. They will wear the clean clothes I picked out for them.

At this point, I've finished four loads of laundry and three loads of dishes, fed seven people breakfast and four people lunch, put dinner in the crockpot, wiped tables and put clean tablecloths on, picked up #7 from preschool, visited the bank and deposited some checks, and welcomed two friends at my door. There is much else to do, and like my mother, I won't sleep tonight until they're done.

image: nairaland.com

I have to confess that doing this for a day makes me feel great love for my family. I now see why my mom did it for us. It was her way of showing selfless love, and in this I find my confusion. In serving them, I feel love for them, but what I've learned from teaching my children to do for themselves is that the greatest thing I've given them is self-esteem. When they are self-reliant, they come to see their own capabilities.

Is one right and the other wrong? I'm not sure, but I tend to think not.

Am I being a martyr? You'd better believe it, but I quickly learned that I can't do it grudgingly for very long. It has wrought a bit of a change on this morning's upset heart.

So, I wonder, will they notice my work and jump in to help? Yah, I doubt it too, but there was a little glimmer of hope this morning.....

#6 got up after all of this had gone down, having afternoon Kindergarten has its benefits. He asked what there was to eat. I told him about the bread, English muffins, and oatmeal. He immediately went for a bowl. He didn't sit around whining, begging me to get him a bowl, or to make it for him.

image: michelleprice.ca

Being in the mode I was, I think he was surprised when I took the bowl from him and poured the oatmeal and again when I took it from him as he was heading for the water and did it for him. I then took it, after he'd pulled it from the microwave and took over the job he was already doing of putting brown sugar in it. I think he was a bit confused as to what was going on. I think he wondered if I somehow found him incapable.

I was grateful to see that his natural tendency, at the age of six, is to do for himself. It isn't in his nature to sit around wondering who's going to serve him. He serves himself.

I have learned that my mom was wonder woman. How did she do this day after day after day?

Yes, I will continue this through today--picking up after everyone, every little thing they put down--but I don't know if I can do it like my mom did. Actually, I know I can't. I know my kids are capable of much more than sitting around, but this little perspective makes me appreciate my mom that much more. It reminds me to love and appreciate my family and all that they do and to overlook all of those things that I have been viewing as sabotage.

Maybe I need to find some balance--somewhere between me and my mom.

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Time to Hang Up My Cape

When I was a teenager, I remember being disappointed by things I'd built up in my head....Things I expected that others were going to do and just how they were going to do them. I built them up to the point of being totally CRUSHED when those things didn't happen. I remember retreating to my bedroom, putting my face in my pillow and crying for hours.

From these experiences, I learned that the only person I can control and should be able to count on is myself.

Well, lately, I'm learning that that much isn't very true either.

image: hangingaroundforever.wordpress.com

There have been things, since I've been married and have had children--a household to care for--that I've built up for myself. Expectations for myself that I feel are my responsibility and no one else's. I grasp them selfishly. They are mine...mine...MINE. **Insert evil laugh here**

My kids do quite a bit around the house. They have assigned chores, but there are things that I've reserved for myself--those things that I think define me as a mother, a wife, and a homemaker. When I don't get those done, I am so disappointed in myself. I don't cry for hours over them, but maybe that would help. If only I had time to retreat to my bedroom.

It's funny, I don't have one of those husbands who comes in after a long day of work and says, "Where's my dinner?" or "Why isn't the house clean?" If I did, maybe, just maybe, I could blame these feelings on him. Boy, that'd make me feel better, but darn it! No, I have one who comes in after a long day of work and just gets to work all over again, in a different way. Here's the clincher....He does is HAPPILY! Ugh! I'm so grateful for this good man, but my guilt and disappointment in myself grows every time.

Life has been busy with added responsibilities that didn't used to be there, and I don't think the sleep apnea's helping at all. No, I don't have the device for the apnea yet--long story. I guess what it comes down to is that I don't have the energy I used to, but those aren't good excuses. I am cutting myself no slack here.

I've been really bothered by all of this....until early last week....

We were sitting at the dinner table. The Warden called on #7 to bless the food. As soon as he did so, this little voice in my head/heart said, "You don't have to give every prayer."

That may seem like a funny statement to anyone outside of my head, but these words made everything else click. It was the thought that I don't have to do it all. It's okay to delegate things. Everyone in my house can help, and it's all okay. Nothing defines me as a mother, a wife, and homemaker as much as my love for them. If those tasks are causing me undue stress, I need to let them go. They're not worth it. I need to stop defining myself by what I do and start appreciating how I feel. Yes, the things I do are an outward expression of what's in my heart, but service to my family comes in so many different packages.

I have a friend right now who is pregnant. She was the oldest child raised in a very large household. I guess I thought of anybody, she'd be up and doing it ALL for her family. I've heard of women who were nine months pregnant and out working in the fields. That's what I, at times, have aspired to. I thought that's how this woman would be.

In the past two weeks, I've been described as "tough" by my children first, and then by the Warden in front of my children. I've tried to prove to them that I can "fight through" anything. That I can take a licking and keep on ticking. I haven't wanted to be a marshmallow that backs down at the first sign of adversity. But, that all brings a big price with it. That price is called self-neglect.

I made arrangements to have one of this friend's children to come play at our house. The night before the playdate, I received a text from her stating that they wouldn't be ready because she wasn't sure she'd be up and about yet at that time of the morning. Could we arrange a little bit later so they could take their time?

Wow!

It hit me, as I pondered her text, that in taking care of herself, she was really taking care of all in her household--even the not-yet born. She wasn't being tough. She was being tender and thoughtful and careful...of HERSELF! Wow, I want to be like that. I want to be able to say "I'm not going to be ready yet" and not feel guilt. I want to be able to cut myself some slack.

I've been married for 20 years. How do I train my family, after all of these years of martyrdom, that it's okay to take care of me? Oh, my goodness, and then, where do I begin?

My heart churns most of the time lately. I have no other way to describe it than that. Those must be my super powers trying to break out. Well, I think I need to quiet the powers and stop trying to be super woman everyday. It's the falling short that's disappointing me. Maybe I need to extinguish those feelings. Maybe that's where I need to begin. Maybe it's in the little things I do to quiet those churnings that I'll find what it takes to care for myself. Maybe I need to stop motivating myself with the guilt I've heaped upon myself in my attempt to be tough and super and everything I have expected a mom to be.

No, I don't say every prayer here in this madhouse, and there is no manual written that says if I don't do something, the world will fall apart. Maybe it's time to take care of me a little bit more. Maybe it's time to stop running the hamster wheel, let others help me flatten it out, and run forward together.

No, I'm not super woman, and I don't want to be. It's time to remove the expectations and be good enough because I love them.