2/8/15
Encouragement
"Think about your particular assignment at this time in your life.
It may be to get an education, it may be to rear children, it may be to be a grandparent, it may be to care for and relieve the suffering of someone you love, it may be to do a job in the most excellent way possible, it may be to support someone who has a difficult assignment of their own.
Our assignments are varied and they change from time to time.
Don't take them lightly.
Give them your full heart and energy.
Do them with enthusiasm.
Do whatever you have to do this week with your whole heart and soul.
To do less than this will leave you with an empty feeling."
-Marjorie Hinckley-
2/6/15
Menu For The Week
I haven't done one of these here in a long time. I need some motivation to get my act together (winging meals almost never works for me!) so here is the week coming up.
Sunday
Chili
Monday
Pork Tenderloin with Horseradish Sauce (I don't use fat free mayo or sour cream in sauce just the normal kind.)
Baked Red Potatoes
Green Beans
Tuesday
Pasta Primavera
Garlic Cheese Bread
Asparagus Roasted with Butter and Parmesan Cheese
Wednesday
Baked Paprika Parmesan Chicken
Rice with Butter
Green Beans
Thursday
Thai Chicken Peanut Noodles
Friday-is almost always pizza and root beer night.
Sunday
Chili
Monday
Pork Tenderloin with Horseradish Sauce (I don't use fat free mayo or sour cream in sauce just the normal kind.)
Baked Red Potatoes
Green Beans
Tuesday
Pasta Primavera
Garlic Cheese Bread
Asparagus Roasted with Butter and Parmesan Cheese
Wednesday
Baked Paprika Parmesan Chicken
Rice with Butter
Green Beans
Thursday
Thai Chicken Peanut Noodles
Friday-is almost always pizza and root beer night.
2/4/15
The Choreography of Mothering Teens
(This is a re-published and re-edited post from three years ago.)
Mothering teens.
A whole different set of skills is needed! It’s all so new and frustrating and
scary and fun. Just like when new
parents are handed their first newborn, it’s so hard to describe to anyone that
feeling-I think in a way parenting starts all over again at the teen age.
It has been quite a learning experience for me and I have far to go.
Nothing humbles a parent like raising a teen. (Or many of them at once!)
Here’s a recent
experience to demonstrate what I’m talking about.
I received this comment years ago after I posted photos on my blog of a recent family vacation:
I received this comment years ago after I posted photos on my blog of a recent family vacation:
Do
you sometimes think your daughter’s shorts are too short?
It made me laugh.
Actually the daughter in question was sitting at the computer when I read
it and we both looked at each other and laughed together.
Because the answer is
yes. I do! I think my 15-year-old daughter’s shorts are a tad
too short. I also think she wears too much make up and doesn’t
need one drop of it, so any is “too much” for me. I am not fond of the fashions right now. (Haven’t all mothers said this? I know my mom did!) And I wish she wouldn’t get so stressed
about school, and friend drama and sometimes I really wish she would not be so
picky and particular on just about everything. And the only nail polish color I
really like on girls is light pink, and she likes yellow or blue or sometimes
orange.
My daughter knows this.
Sometimes we argue about it and sometimes we downright battle about it. It’s hard. I wish she would listen to everything I have to say and do
exactly what I tell her to do all the time. She did when she was little. We could go shopping and oooh and aaah over
all the same stuff. The matching tights, the cute colorful knit dresses.
Those red sparkly shoes and the cute pink tennies. We got along great all
the time. Because her opinion and my opinion matched perfectly.
In junior high we
started clashing about little things. Maybe it was at what age we would
allow her to get her ears pierced. Or why I had to be so strict about how
high the heels were that she wanted to buy for 8th grade graduation…”everyone
else” was wearing those high ones, why couldn’t she? We started getting angry
at each other as she pushed and I pulled -as she exerted her opinion that was
different from my opinion – yes, she had somehow developed her own, how the
heck did that happen?
I held her back
against the growing-up-too-fast pull as best as I could. Oh, if only I
could keep her in my world, totally, completely, create that bubble. If only I could just say yes to everything she
wanted because it was the same as what I wanted, it would all be so easy. If only she would stay my young
little girl forever.
I’ve found the teen
years are full of change in the parent and child relationship…that push and
pull, back and forth, and a sense of loss for both of us as our children
develop into adults. We have both cried tears over the last years….over
how darn hard and different it has been. Me shedding tears of doubt – Am
I doing this right? Am I being too strict? Should I have stuck to
my guns? Why oh why can’t she just trust that I know what is best for
her? And her with tears of frustration, anger, and just plain old hurt
feelings.
When it comes to
raising teenagers I think there are three roads to take. Two are easy…and
so tempting because you, as the mother, can always be happy and there is little
or no conflict, tears, drama.
One is the route where
anything they want is fine with you. The drinking, the boyfriends, the
hotel rooms rented at prom. Rules are a pain, and being popular is the
name of the game. There is never a fight because who wants to fight?
“Yes,” is your answer, “sure go ahead honey, we’re best friends right?” You
turn your head or laugh and say, “Teenagers will be teenagers, what can I do
about it?”
The other end of the
spectrum is just the opposite. You keep total control. You make all
those decisions for them. You require them to call you on their cell
phones every hour because the big bad world out there is dangerous. You teach
them that they can’t trust their own decisions and choices and that you have
all the answers. You criticize and control and protect and hover and warn
and do everything in your power to keep them under your wing constantly.
Things stay the same as they were when they were three, seven, nine –
when it was easy. Their only choice is your way or the highway.
I have seen both
styles of parenting teens and I know in my heart and from observation that both
have pretty good odds of producing results that are less than ideal when it
comes to healthy growth and development. The easy way, darn it, never seems to
be the right way. Even so, it’s tempting.
See that place in the
middle of those two extremes? It’s tons of work. It’s work every
day, whether you are up for it or not. As a parent we might be exhausted,
sick, busy, or we might just want to keep that good mood going and not rock the
boat for once. We know we must gauge when to move up or down in that
middle ground. Constantly we wonder when to let go, when to be quiet, when
to just listen, when to speak up, when to hold fast, when to stay firm.
I’ve learned there are
many rules or guidelines that start out one way, and end up another as teen’s
progress, grow and struggle – and as we
parents progress and grow and struggle also. Sometimes rules need to be
adjusted as kids get older, and as they present a case that makes good
sense. There needs to be a gradual letting go of the reins…a handing over
(literally!) of the steering wheel of life. Trust is broken and gained.
Lessons are learned and tears are shed. Sometimes consequences need to be
learned the hard way – but it’s tricky to know ahead of time when something is
going to be a good learning experience or digs a deeper hole with a price to
high to be paid. Sometimes responsibility for decisions is given too soon, sometimes
at the right time and sometimes late enough to cause major resentment.
It’s difficult to hit that “perfect timing” thing every day. The
light bulb moments us moms savor can be few and far between. And sometimes
those light bulb moments are moments when my teens have taught me as much or
more as I have taught them!
Every day, I’m making
decisions large and small on the spur of the moment, in the heat of the moment,
in the light of day and the dark of night and it all renders me mentally
exhausted – weighing the pros and cons, thinking and rethinking, trying to
figure out what’s really important – it’s a learning process. And then on
top of it all, I learn that what works for one child certainly doesn’t work for
another. For some teens, the surefire way to get them to do something is to let
it be known that we prefer the opposite. For other teens the tiniest hint
of criticism from us leads to a breakdown in communication for months and we
must work to regain that relationship. I’ve had one teen say to me, “You
don’t have to be so careful about telling me what you think Mom! I want to hear what you have
to say. I need your advice!” And I've had another child say, “This is what I want. I
know it’s right for me even if it isn’t what you would chose.” Sometimes it's the same teen but a different week, stating both! Keeps me
on my toes, that’s for sure, and scrambles my brain at the same time.
But if I’ve learned
anything in the last few years of parenting teenagers it’s this. My role
is not to turn my back and go with the flow and hope for the best and it’s not
to keep them young and dependent with no choices of their own on us so they
don’t really grow up. My job is to get
them to the point where they can make healthy decisions -large and small – for
themselves and do it confidently and well. It’s to accept that my children may
want different things out of life than what I had imagined for them when they
were little children. It’s to watch them develop their own styles and
taste and opinions (which I have learned changes so quickly in these years) and
try not to cringe too much when it’s not that super cute sun dress, the darling
flats, the preppy shirt – or the friend, or the extracurricular activity at
school – that I would have chosen for them.
And yes, it is standing
firm and strong at the same time, not being fearful of saying no, and not
losing the battle against cultural norms.
Combine all that and we have a dance with the most complicated choreography
between parents and teens. It is highly personal-what looks like a pair of
shorts too short to someone outside of that intricate relationship, could have
the most complicated story behind them-a compromise made after one hundred no’s,
a battle not chosen at an emotionally delicate time in that teen’s life, a
gesture of love and acceptance when she feels love and acceptance from no one. It can’t be judged from afar, from the
outside, by anyone. This dance between
teens and parents- it takes years and years to learn, it is an art-just as
choreography is, dancing with trust, with compromise, with hope, with authority-but
always with love.
2/2/15
1/29/15
What Do Children Really Want? A Beautiful Video
Everyone has probably viewed this already, I am always way behind on this sort of thing but this short video is gorgeous in a heart-wrenching, really good reminder, way.
1/26/15
1/22/15
Life

Today is the March for Life in DC and today is the Day of Prayer for the Legal Protection of the Unborn.
I haven't always been passionately pro-life, I must admit. I spent the first 25 years of my life not thinking much about pro-life issues, and the next ten or so years, entrenched in day to day motherhood and life in general, and wondering what I could do about something that seemed hopeless anyways. It seemed easier to not think about, it expended less emotional energy.
And then one day I read an article in National Geographic of all places. It wasn't about abortion at all, it was about something I had never heard of. It was something about some tribe in a country in Africa, who was still practicing some horrific act-it is called mingi-and for something as little as a toddler having a chipped tooth, or their top teeth coming in before their bottom teeth, the tribe deems them evil, and will take them out to the bush and leave these little children, in the middle of nowhere to die. To die of starvation or dehydration or the elements or wild animals. I threw the magazine down when I read that, wishing I hadn't filled my brain with that information, knowing I would never forget it and would haunt me. I looked at helpless, sweet, trusting, loving, totally vulnerable Janey, my toddler, standing next to me, the same age as what these little children would be and cried. How many days would it take? How long would she be crying for me? When would she just give up? What ignorance I thought, what stupidity, what uncivilized, barbaric people are we talking about, who could kill a sweet baby in this way? How could they treat a child as if it was disposable, at is if was responsible for evil, as if it could be just thrown away, and what reason could be "good enough" to justify this?
But as I was sitting there, I thought, halfway across the world from me, or maybe one hundred years from now, someone is or will be just as horrified as I was, and use the same words to describe legalized abortion in 2015 in the country that I live in. We have been conditioned to think otherwise, we have been spoon fed lies, we have been convinced, and attempt to convince ourselves, that there is nothing wrong with killing our young. We do it in barbaric ways, we do it when we want to do it, we do it when a human is at it's most vulnerable state and not able to fight back, we do it and we justify the act in a hundred different ways. How have we come to this? Mothers killing their young, in the name of convenience, in the name of anything, in one of the richest, most educated, civilized countries in the world? How have we perpetuated lies and ignored science this blatantly? We don't have an excuse anymore. Not believing that life begins at conception is like still believing the earth is flat. Science has long proven that fact, but we find a million ways around it. We need only to look at an ultrasound and we can see with our own eyes, but still we deny. I could easily see why any society who truly respected women and treasured children would consider us ignorant, uncivilized, and barbaric. They would consider the act of intentional abortion another horrific atrocity against human life.
I pass no judgment on those who have been desperate or scared or backed into a corner, or pressured or fearful and are led to believe they have no other choice or aren't worthy of motherhood abort their babies-and I think that has to describe all women who have an abortion. I can't imagine the pain they live with when they make that choice and then forever after, and truly my heart breaks for their loss.
And I do like to believe that the majority of all mankind mean well. But I can't wrap my head around the lies that are being told to women. I can't wrap my head around that fact that we women will play victim to a sexual culture that results in our babies paying the price by death, and us paying the price physically and emotionally. Do they not know the pro-creative power they hold? Have they not been told how their bodies work? Do they not see they are paying the price in that clinic as no man ever will? It seems that some women are so busy waving their signs about choice, they haven't stopped to think of how completely, for lack of a better word, crappy those choices are? All for what? Sexual freedom? We have the power to control our bodies, we are not victims, we are not weak, we are not inconvenient, nor are our babies, we are educated, strong smart women. We deserve better. By denying our fertility, by pretending that our bodies don't function as they do, by not demanding commitment and love from the man who wishes to perform an act of procreation with us, we are, in a way, desecrating ourselves and our bodies. Feminism? No, just the opposite. Self-hatred. (Here is a beautiful article, that explains my point more thoroughly.)
And our babies-our babies, our unique, gorgeous, lovely babies. There is nothing like a mother's love. Have you ever tried to describe it to another woman who hasn't experienced it? It's impossible. How often do we say we'd die for our children. But right now there are other women convincing a scared, vulnerable, desperate women that her best choice is to kill her child, not knowing that once she had that baby in her arms, she'd fight tooth and nail if someone would dare threaten her baby. Or worse yet, they tell her that her child is a mass of tissue instead of the wonderful unique human being she could hold in her arms one day, and love for it's perfection, and think no other baby must be as wonderful as hers.
I realized too, that if I believe what I do, that abortion is the worst human rights violation of our time, how can I stay silent? How can I bury my head in the sand and go about my daily life? I was thinking of how I reacted my freshman year in high school when we watched a film about the Holocaust. I remember going home and talking to my mother about it and saying angrily, "How could people just stand by and watch this happen and do nothing? What about the people living next to the concentration camps? They saw the droves going in and no one coming out. What about the people who knew, or knew enough to be suspicious, and did nothing? How could they live with themselves, do they not hold some sort of responsibility and guilt?"
But now I understand how they could- I have been doing the same thing. They were busy with their own lives, they were afraid to speak up, they didn't know if or how they could do a thing about it anyways. If I believe in my heart that humans, in their most vulnerable state, are being murdered every day by other humans, who have convinced their mothers with pure deception in so many different ways that what they are doing is necessary, than I am the one living like those I questioned, right next to a concentration camp, and going about my business every day, with nary a glance at the ashes falling from the sky.
One day, when I am old and almost in my grave, could I look back at my life, and live with the fact that I did nothing? I can't, and it took me until I was in my forties to begin to think about this. I realized that I could do something, whether it was as small as speaking up even when it is uncomfortable to do so, or buying a pack of diapers or little baby clothes or sending a check to our local Heartbeat, or one day, when time allows giving more of my talents or time to those fellow women who feel alone and confused and pregnant. Maybe then, when a young girl reads a history book and says, "How could they? How could people stand by and let this happen?" I could rest in peace.
1/19/15
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