Reviewing my blog, I have noticed a trail of ups and downs including the death of my grandmother, the death of my stepfather, and ups in steps of faith, kitchen science experiments and more. I am befuddled by this path that I am on. I have felt an urge to enter ministry since I was a kid, but event after event has shown me I am not ready. I have prayed for years for God to reveal His plan for me and to make it simple for I am a simple person. I guess when my boss fired me last week; that was a pretty simple, "you are in the wrong place. get moving!"
So again I am faced with which path to take. Do I continue my pursuit to be a professional marketing person with expertise in copy writing and event planning? Do I pursue a career in ministry? Do I go back to school and get my teaching certificate? What is God's plan for me?
Since I have some time on my hands and really want to get this right this time, I have decided to commit to read the "The Bible in 90 days" a Zondervan Bibles publication. I have finished Genesis and the whole thing about circumcision has struck me. So God tells Abraham in Genesis 17 for every male to be circumcised, young and old alike to seal the covenant between God and Abraham. To seal a deal with God, a super good deal where they get a bunch of blessings, all the men say, "Sure." I am not a man, but ouch. But they did it and they were blessed.
Now later in Genesis 34, there is another story of circumcision that did not end well. Jacob, the father of nations, also had a daughter named Dina who was violated by a man from the city of Shechem in Canaan. Jacob was sad, but her brothers were furious. The brothers tricked the men of Shechem. They said if they all got circumcised then they would live peacefully among them and become one people sharing livestock and wealth. The men of the city said, "Sure," and were all circumsiced. Now the brother's new of the pain of circumcision and on the third day after the procedure, the brother's entered the city and killed all the men who were still in pain from the circumcision. I guess the moral of the story is if you desire to seal a deal with God, then no price is too high; but if you desire to seal a deal with man for wealth and privilege, check his motives.
So what does that have to do with the ups and downs of this blog? I desparately want to seal a deal with God, but I don't know what the deal is. I have decided I must pursue my desire for ministry but definately not for wealth and privilege though I wouldn't frown on it if it came my way. I just pray that my desire is given to me by God. I pray to fulfill His purpose for me.
So what's next? I plan to offer myself as a guest speaker. I have more than 10 years of experience in Children's and Preschool Ministry and feel strongly that I can provide age appropriate, fun and relevant faith messages to youth, parents, and women's organizations. I have been in development of the DesignD ministry for more than a year. I have friends that are willing to partner with me, and friends who will be supporting me. The time has come to seal the deal and step out on faith. Soon I will be providing more information on DesignD and how you too can book me as a guest speaker at your next engagement.
Showing posts with label Parenting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Parenting. Show all posts
Friday, February 18, 2011
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Roller Coaster Life
I have heard life referred to as a roller coaster. It is terrifying but exhilarating. It is many ups and downs and a few twists and turns to keep things interesting. But unlike a roller coaster that stops and lets you get off; life does not.
Life keeps going. It does not care that you are having a great time and want to stay where you are. It does not care that you are hurting and just need a time out to recover. It does not care that you are afraid and don't want to go into that next phase of life. Things happen and your stage of life changes.
I recently suffered a terrible loss, the death of my Dad. I definitely want a time out to mourn his passing, but life just keeps going. As I have cried and yelled and hurt, I have been surprised by the depth of my sorrow. I have a dear friend who helps me with my kids during emergencies, and she asked as delicately as she could, "How many deaths is this?" That really made me think.
In the past year and a half, my grandmother/my last living grandparent died. My uncle died suddenly on a business trip. He was young with four children, two still in college. It was natural causes but still too soon. My great aunt died and three days later her brother/my great uncle died. It is hard to explain the importance of all these people in my life in just a few words, but I can say growing up when love seemed just a theory and not a reality, each of these people demonstrated a tangible love and a hope for joy in this life.
Barely a month after the deaths of my aunt and uncle, my Dad died suddenly. He was 84, but up until 2 weeks prior to his death, he was independent. He is my step-father, but he has been my step-father for 31 years. My biological father is in my life and I do have a reconciled, healthy relationship with him. My step-father, however, is the one who was there for this roller coaster. He was the one that was there when things were up and down and even there for the twists and turns. My step-father is the one who taught me that love endures all things.
I am still riding the roller coaster. I want to get off, but I am holding on. This is just a down turn and this too will pass. I hold onto the hope that soon there will be an up or a twist and things will get better. Life, love and happiness are on this roller coaster and definitely make the ride worth riding. I still have tears, but I also have love. My husband is in the seat next to me. My kids are in the seat behind me. This down turn will not derail me. I am going to hold on and look up. An up turn has to be coming.
Life keeps going. It does not care that you are having a great time and want to stay where you are. It does not care that you are hurting and just need a time out to recover. It does not care that you are afraid and don't want to go into that next phase of life. Things happen and your stage of life changes.
I recently suffered a terrible loss, the death of my Dad. I definitely want a time out to mourn his passing, but life just keeps going. As I have cried and yelled and hurt, I have been surprised by the depth of my sorrow. I have a dear friend who helps me with my kids during emergencies, and she asked as delicately as she could, "How many deaths is this?" That really made me think.
In the past year and a half, my grandmother/my last living grandparent died. My uncle died suddenly on a business trip. He was young with four children, two still in college. It was natural causes but still too soon. My great aunt died and three days later her brother/my great uncle died. It is hard to explain the importance of all these people in my life in just a few words, but I can say growing up when love seemed just a theory and not a reality, each of these people demonstrated a tangible love and a hope for joy in this life.
Barely a month after the deaths of my aunt and uncle, my Dad died suddenly. He was 84, but up until 2 weeks prior to his death, he was independent. He is my step-father, but he has been my step-father for 31 years. My biological father is in my life and I do have a reconciled, healthy relationship with him. My step-father, however, is the one who was there for this roller coaster. He was the one that was there when things were up and down and even there for the twists and turns. My step-father is the one who taught me that love endures all things.
I am still riding the roller coaster. I want to get off, but I am holding on. This is just a down turn and this too will pass. I hold onto the hope that soon there will be an up or a twist and things will get better. Life, love and happiness are on this roller coaster and definitely make the ride worth riding. I still have tears, but I also have love. My husband is in the seat next to me. My kids are in the seat behind me. This down turn will not derail me. I am going to hold on and look up. An up turn has to be coming.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Good Bye & Thank You, Grandma Memaw
My last grandparent passed away last week. At first it was just another funeral. I am at an age now that I attend more funerals than weddings. I have sorrow for each family member who passes. I wish somehow my children could know them like I knew them when I was a child, but the circle of life never stops turning.
My Grandma Memaw was a vibrant woman who taught me more than I realized. Sitting in the pew, listening to the story of Memaw's life, it hit me. She was the bright spot in my childhood, an oasis. I spent years angry with my parents for not being what I thought parents should be. My childhood was not horrible, but it was not happy. Lots of drama; closets became great places to hide and to escape into wonderful worlds of fancy. Anyway, my parents were useless in helping me find the joy in my childhood, but then I went to Memaw's funeral.
Memaw lived in the Valley, MacAllen, Texas valley, when we were growing up. Mom would ship us off to Memaw's when she had had enough. We would stay weeks in the Valley loving every minute. Memaw had a tiny house, but it was packed full of treasures, momentos and souveneirs and knick knacks. Everything had a story, and Memaw never waivered in telling every story and some stories over and over.
It was a simpler time so we were free to run barefoot through the neighborhood, climb trees, get dirty and just have fun. We enjoyed decorating bikes and riding them in the Fourth of July parade. It never failed to be pickin' time when we were there. Pickin' time for all the oranges and grapefruits, Memaw grew in her backyard. Memaw also believed everybody should learn a musical instrument whether they played it for life or just learned it as a child. She had a piano that each of us got a turn to play. She was patient (very patient on the piano) and kind and full of laughter.
Everytime we visited the valley; Memaw would make sure one day we got to go to South Padre Island to build sand castles and enjoy an ice cream cone. When we went to the beach, it was never just a Grandma with her Grandkids. It was a parade. Memaw invited everybody; family, friends, neighbors, "The more the merrier." Meal time at Memaw's was always a party. She invited everybody; family, friends, neighbors, kids we had just met playing in the yard, "The more the merrier." And then there was dipping time. Dipping, a medicinal treatment for cats to help with fleas, ticks and other things, was a stinky, I mean it had an odor, job. Memaw did it with gusto. She didn't just dip her cats. She made a vat of the stuff in the backyard and dipped her cats and the neighbors cats and any stray cat any of the kids, us and the neighbor kids, could catch. "The more the merrier."
"The more the merrier," Memaw said. It was a phrase that floated around me; hugged me. I heard other people say it, but it just wasn't the same. When Memaw said it, you knew she meant it. At Memaw's house you weren't just welcome; you were wanted. I love Memaw for that. For a child from a broken home with a turbulant childhood, she was an oasis that taught love, laughter and the true meaning of "the more the merrier." Thank you, Memaw. I will miss you.
My Grandma Memaw was a vibrant woman who taught me more than I realized. Sitting in the pew, listening to the story of Memaw's life, it hit me. She was the bright spot in my childhood, an oasis. I spent years angry with my parents for not being what I thought parents should be. My childhood was not horrible, but it was not happy. Lots of drama; closets became great places to hide and to escape into wonderful worlds of fancy. Anyway, my parents were useless in helping me find the joy in my childhood, but then I went to Memaw's funeral.
Memaw lived in the Valley, MacAllen, Texas valley, when we were growing up. Mom would ship us off to Memaw's when she had had enough. We would stay weeks in the Valley loving every minute. Memaw had a tiny house, but it was packed full of treasures, momentos and souveneirs and knick knacks. Everything had a story, and Memaw never waivered in telling every story and some stories over and over.
It was a simpler time so we were free to run barefoot through the neighborhood, climb trees, get dirty and just have fun. We enjoyed decorating bikes and riding them in the Fourth of July parade. It never failed to be pickin' time when we were there. Pickin' time for all the oranges and grapefruits, Memaw grew in her backyard. Memaw also believed everybody should learn a musical instrument whether they played it for life or just learned it as a child. She had a piano that each of us got a turn to play. She was patient (very patient on the piano) and kind and full of laughter.
Everytime we visited the valley; Memaw would make sure one day we got to go to South Padre Island to build sand castles and enjoy an ice cream cone. When we went to the beach, it was never just a Grandma with her Grandkids. It was a parade. Memaw invited everybody; family, friends, neighbors, "The more the merrier." Meal time at Memaw's was always a party. She invited everybody; family, friends, neighbors, kids we had just met playing in the yard, "The more the merrier." And then there was dipping time. Dipping, a medicinal treatment for cats to help with fleas, ticks and other things, was a stinky, I mean it had an odor, job. Memaw did it with gusto. She didn't just dip her cats. She made a vat of the stuff in the backyard and dipped her cats and the neighbors cats and any stray cat any of the kids, us and the neighbor kids, could catch. "The more the merrier."
"The more the merrier," Memaw said. It was a phrase that floated around me; hugged me. I heard other people say it, but it just wasn't the same. When Memaw said it, you knew she meant it. At Memaw's house you weren't just welcome; you were wanted. I love Memaw for that. For a child from a broken home with a turbulant childhood, she was an oasis that taught love, laughter and the true meaning of "the more the merrier." Thank you, Memaw. I will miss you.
Friday, February 6, 2009
My Baby is Not a Baby Anymore
It was night time. Each of us had gone through the routine of washing off the day's grime, freshening our mouths and slipping into comfy pajamas. It was a quiet night, and I was feeling pretty proud of myself. I, Mom, had gotten everybody: homework done, fed, washed and into bed at a reasonable hour. I even had time to read stories to my precious babies.
I went to my final stop on the reading tour, my oldest baby's room. As soon as I walked through the door, I was bowled over by a stench I cannot describe. My oldest baby's face of surprise to my reaction to the smell led me to wonder if he smelled it. I asked him, "What is that smell?!?" In the innocence of a baby, he looked at me and asked, "What smell?" I could hardly believe my ears, or my nose for that matter.
I began the hunt for 'that smell.' Periodically, asking my son the usual questions, "Have you been eating food in here again?" "Is your laundry in the hamper?" "Is your stomach upset?" My son could not believe I was so insistant that there was a smell and had no idea what it could be.
I finally gave up and sat on the bed next to him. Leaning over to kiss him, I got a whiff of 'that smell.' I asked him, "what have you been doing?" "Nothing," he reported, "Just chasing my brother, playing swords and seeing how high I could jump. I can almost reach above the door frame to my room. Wanna see?" He lifted his arm to show me how high he can reach and then I got a really good whiff of 'that smell.'
My baby is not a baby anymore. He is nine years old and definately ready for deoderant. As I grappled with that I began to wonder, what is next? My baby is not a baby anymore. He needs deoderant. Soon other changes will happen. I am a girl Mom who was raised with girly sisters. I don't know anything about growing up a boy. I suspect he will start to get hair in strange places. I know his voice will change, but that still shouldn't happen for a few years. My baby is still losing baby teeth. He can't be old enough for all this. But my baby is losing his baby teeth, and the adult teeth are coming in just fine. He may only be nine (9), but he is growing up.
So, what's a Mom to do? Research, of course. Boys are wonderful and their changes are pretty much what you think they will be. If you want some confirmation, reassurance or more information, here are a few websites to check out:
I went to my final stop on the reading tour, my oldest baby's room. As soon as I walked through the door, I was bowled over by a stench I cannot describe. My oldest baby's face of surprise to my reaction to the smell led me to wonder if he smelled it. I asked him, "What is that smell?!?" In the innocence of a baby, he looked at me and asked, "What smell?" I could hardly believe my ears, or my nose for that matter.
I began the hunt for 'that smell.' Periodically, asking my son the usual questions, "Have you been eating food in here again?" "Is your laundry in the hamper?" "Is your stomach upset?" My son could not believe I was so insistant that there was a smell and had no idea what it could be.
I finally gave up and sat on the bed next to him. Leaning over to kiss him, I got a whiff of 'that smell.' I asked him, "what have you been doing?" "Nothing," he reported, "Just chasing my brother, playing swords and seeing how high I could jump. I can almost reach above the door frame to my room. Wanna see?" He lifted his arm to show me how high he can reach and then I got a really good whiff of 'that smell.'
My baby is not a baby anymore. He is nine years old and definately ready for deoderant. As I grappled with that I began to wonder, what is next? My baby is not a baby anymore. He needs deoderant. Soon other changes will happen. I am a girl Mom who was raised with girly sisters. I don't know anything about growing up a boy. I suspect he will start to get hair in strange places. I know his voice will change, but that still shouldn't happen for a few years. My baby is still losing baby teeth. He can't be old enough for all this. But my baby is losing his baby teeth, and the adult teeth are coming in just fine. He may only be nine (9), but he is growing up.
So, what's a Mom to do? Research, of course. Boys are wonderful and their changes are pretty much what you think they will be. If you want some confirmation, reassurance or more information, here are a few websites to check out:
- Kid's Health for Kids: http://kidshealth.org/kid/grow/body_stuff/boys_puberty.html
- Teen Growth.com: http://www.teengrowth.com/index.cfm?action=info_article&ID_article=1348
- KidsRead.com (book reviews): http://aol.kidsreads.com/features/010201-growing.asp
Growing up boys is different than growing up girls. Each have their own challenges and rewards. I love my babies. I love my sons. I love my baby boy who is not a baby anymore.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Mom-Me: the Substitute Teacher
I think I have found the perfect paid, out of the home job, for this stay at home Mom-Me. I am a Substitute Teacher. I am not with my kids, but I am still working with kids. This has two bonus features. I am not with my kids; every Mom-Me needs a break from the never ending call for "MOM." Bonus number two: I really appreciate my kids after working with some of these kids. I won't say they are bad, but I will say there are some kids that are a real challenge. I guess you could even say there is a third bonus, but it is a stretch. After spending time with some real challenges, I have stricter instruction with my kids at home.
Every Mom-Me needs a break from their kids. As a stay at home Mom-Me, you are never off the job. When loving, working husband comes home, he does not jump in and let Mom-Me take a break or have some private time. No matter how hard Mom-Me's week has been, she is always on duty for the midnight, "MOM-ME, I have to go potty," or the "MOM-ME, I had a nightmare," or the "MOM-ME, I don't feel good." When you stay home, you hear MOM-ME all day long. I do try to have an hour or two where I tell the kids if you are not going to nap you are still going to be quiet and during quiet time, you do not call Mom-Me unless something is broken or bleeding. Of course then every 10 minutes I hear, "Is quiet time over yet? Is it over now? Is it over now? Is it over now? etc." Mom-Me needs a break.
Working with challenging kids, I really appreciate my kids. I want them to be perfect, of course. I have been stressed that my first son is not an athlete and straight 'A' student. I have been stressed that my second son is stubborn and has quite a temper. A lot of times I feel like a Policeman, Corrections Officer, Warden, Traffic Cop and/or Judge, constantly on my kids for this and that. I know my kids are not perfect. I know that I am not perfect. Working with other kids, my kids are right on track for their age, and since they are my kids, I get to hug them and kiss them a lot which really helps alleviate some of the tension when we are having a bad day. Especially with the four year old, when it is a head butt day, since he is my son, I can stop everything and just say, "Mom-Me is having a tough day, can I get a hug?" This usually de-escalates whatever and brings out a smile.
Working with challenging kids, I am stricter with my kids. We have tried to teach them to respect authority and not talk back, but I often find myself arguing with them. I don't mean too, but I want my kids to know they are allowed an opinion and that they can defend themselves. Unfortunately, I have a hard time separating self-defense and personal opinion from disrespectful, argumentative and talking back. Anyway, on one of my substitute jobs I had a little boy pinch and bite me and call me every cuss word in the book. I have had several children tell me that since I am a substitute they don't have to listen to me. I have had many children who refused to do their school work or even stay in their chairs. I have even had children leave the room without permission. On those days, I am a much stricter Mom-Me that does not allow for any back talk, and there are no warnings. You do what you are told, or there will be consequences.
I do enjoy Substitute Teaching. I enjoy meeting all these new smiling faces which there are more smiling faces than not. I enjoy seeing what they are learning. I love walking into a class where they are writing a story. Kids have amazing imaginations. I have renewed faith in honesty. As an adult it is easy to become cynical and untrusting, but kids, in general, are brutally honest. I love the moments when they are really listening especially when they come up with good questions. I love it when at the end of the day one of the kids gives me a compliment like a kindergartner once said, "you're not scary."
I enjoy meeting the other teachers and hearing what they have to say about our educational system. I enjoy meeting the other teachers and being renewed that their are people who love every age and stage of children and are excellent teachers.
I am a Substitute Teacher, and I like it. The hours are fair, the pay is o.k. and I have the same holidays as my kids. The extra bonuses: I appreciate my kids, I am more consistant/stricter with my kids and I get a break from my kids. It's a good gig.
Every Mom-Me needs a break from their kids. As a stay at home Mom-Me, you are never off the job. When loving, working husband comes home, he does not jump in and let Mom-Me take a break or have some private time. No matter how hard Mom-Me's week has been, she is always on duty for the midnight, "MOM-ME, I have to go potty," or the "MOM-ME, I had a nightmare," or the "MOM-ME, I don't feel good." When you stay home, you hear MOM-ME all day long. I do try to have an hour or two where I tell the kids if you are not going to nap you are still going to be quiet and during quiet time, you do not call Mom-Me unless something is broken or bleeding. Of course then every 10 minutes I hear, "Is quiet time over yet? Is it over now? Is it over now? Is it over now? etc." Mom-Me needs a break.
Working with challenging kids, I really appreciate my kids. I want them to be perfect, of course. I have been stressed that my first son is not an athlete and straight 'A' student. I have been stressed that my second son is stubborn and has quite a temper. A lot of times I feel like a Policeman, Corrections Officer, Warden, Traffic Cop and/or Judge, constantly on my kids for this and that. I know my kids are not perfect. I know that I am not perfect. Working with other kids, my kids are right on track for their age, and since they are my kids, I get to hug them and kiss them a lot which really helps alleviate some of the tension when we are having a bad day. Especially with the four year old, when it is a head butt day, since he is my son, I can stop everything and just say, "Mom-Me is having a tough day, can I get a hug?" This usually de-escalates whatever and brings out a smile.
Working with challenging kids, I am stricter with my kids. We have tried to teach them to respect authority and not talk back, but I often find myself arguing with them. I don't mean too, but I want my kids to know they are allowed an opinion and that they can defend themselves. Unfortunately, I have a hard time separating self-defense and personal opinion from disrespectful, argumentative and talking back. Anyway, on one of my substitute jobs I had a little boy pinch and bite me and call me every cuss word in the book. I have had several children tell me that since I am a substitute they don't have to listen to me. I have had many children who refused to do their school work or even stay in their chairs. I have even had children leave the room without permission. On those days, I am a much stricter Mom-Me that does not allow for any back talk, and there are no warnings. You do what you are told, or there will be consequences.
I do enjoy Substitute Teaching. I enjoy meeting all these new smiling faces which there are more smiling faces than not. I enjoy seeing what they are learning. I love walking into a class where they are writing a story. Kids have amazing imaginations. I have renewed faith in honesty. As an adult it is easy to become cynical and untrusting, but kids, in general, are brutally honest. I love the moments when they are really listening especially when they come up with good questions. I love it when at the end of the day one of the kids gives me a compliment like a kindergartner once said, "you're not scary."
I enjoy meeting the other teachers and hearing what they have to say about our educational system. I enjoy meeting the other teachers and being renewed that their are people who love every age and stage of children and are excellent teachers.
I am a Substitute Teacher, and I like it. The hours are fair, the pay is o.k. and I have the same holidays as my kids. The extra bonuses: I appreciate my kids, I am more consistant/stricter with my kids and I get a break from my kids. It's a good gig.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Mom-Me: Back to Work, Trial and Error
For three years I have been a Mom who works inside the home. Economic yuck yuck and now I am a Mom trying to find work outside the home.
I have tried blogging and a t-shirt store front. It is quite impossible to maintain a single train of thought when the kids are at home. I have definately put in part time hours and gotten less than part time results. The only person I have actually made a sale to is myself.
I have tried contract services in Marketing. I did find one client, but to make sure I got the job I really priced low. The money I am making is not enough to pay for lunch, but at least it is more than the cost of materials.
I tried submitting writings and designs for contests and through on-line services that connect independents to buyers. I didn't win any contract jobs, but I did win one writing contest. I won a $50 gift certificate to the Disney Store. My kids loved it.
I have now registered as a substitute teacher for our local school district. This one might work. I have only sub'ed twice and both days were pretty fun. The good thing is I am actually using my degree. I am also doing some of the things I did as a volunteer, but this time I get paid. We will not make our fortune as a Substitute Teacher, but the hours are good and I have the same holidays as my children. I do have to have a babysitter, but only for an hour. I still have time to cook breakfast in the morning and get my kids to school, and I am home in plenty of time to get dinner ready for my loving husband.
I keep telling myself that I love being a Mom and a Wife. I am trying to not be offended by the insinuation that a Mom working inside the home is not working. I MAY NOT BE GETTING PAID, BUT I AM WORKING! I am holding on to hope that this latest endeavor will be enough.
I do love my kids, and I do want to be home for them. But reality is what it is. I have to get paid for my work.
I have tried blogging and a t-shirt store front. It is quite impossible to maintain a single train of thought when the kids are at home. I have definately put in part time hours and gotten less than part time results. The only person I have actually made a sale to is myself.
I have tried contract services in Marketing. I did find one client, but to make sure I got the job I really priced low. The money I am making is not enough to pay for lunch, but at least it is more than the cost of materials.
I tried submitting writings and designs for contests and through on-line services that connect independents to buyers. I didn't win any contract jobs, but I did win one writing contest. I won a $50 gift certificate to the Disney Store. My kids loved it.
I have now registered as a substitute teacher for our local school district. This one might work. I have only sub'ed twice and both days were pretty fun. The good thing is I am actually using my degree. I am also doing some of the things I did as a volunteer, but this time I get paid. We will not make our fortune as a Substitute Teacher, but the hours are good and I have the same holidays as my children. I do have to have a babysitter, but only for an hour. I still have time to cook breakfast in the morning and get my kids to school, and I am home in plenty of time to get dinner ready for my loving husband.
I keep telling myself that I love being a Mom and a Wife. I am trying to not be offended by the insinuation that a Mom working inside the home is not working. I MAY NOT BE GETTING PAID, BUT I AM WORKING! I am holding on to hope that this latest endeavor will be enough.
I do love my kids, and I do want to be home for them. But reality is what it is. I have to get paid for my work.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Mom-Me: Back to Work, the Gripe
My husband and I have done a pretty good job riding the waves of economics so that Mom-Me could stay home with the kids for these past three years, but lately it has been harder than hard. When you have to set-up payment plans for your utilities, it is time to make big changes. My husband says it is time for Mom-Me to go back to work. I mentioned it to my sister that my husband told me to go back to work, and she said that I had a nice ride. She said I should be thankful for the time off and go back to work.
Now as Mom-Me I am wondering when did I get time off? When did I stop working? I know I stopped getting paid for my work about three years ago, but I don't recall ever stopping work. I do admit that there was a time that I protested against my work due to lack of appreciation, but I never did an all stop. I still managed the household income and expenses, the child care, the food services and the laundry services. I never stopped being the in-house nurse, teacher, psychologist, and entertainment director. I never stopped the tap dance of trying to fullfill my commitments as daughter, daughter-in-law, sister, school volunteer, church volunteer, youth group volunteer, friend, wife, and Mom. I simply stopped housekeeping, file clerk, and administrative assistant to make a point, and my point was made by the end of a week.
We have all heard the estimated value of Mom-Me and that no household could ever afford to hire professionals to fulfill all her roles. My husband has watched those reports and so have my children. All of which have said, "Good job, Mom-Me." But now it is time to get back to work.
So I am going back to work. Do I get to pursue my career? No. I have those kids to think about. If I pursued the career I truly want, I would have to sacrifice some nights and weekends and may miss some important Mom-Me dates like games and award ceremonies. Do I get to pursue a job at least on the career path of my choice? No. If I pursue a job on the career path, then I would have to work full time year round. I suppose I should mention that my loving husband told me I had to go back to work, but to find a job that would not require child care and that would make sure I am home on time to have a hot dinner ready when he gets home from his career job of choice. So I am supposed to find a full time job with part time hours.
I love being a Mom and a Wife, but this lack of appreciation really stinks. I am looking for work outside the home that might actually pay me. I am trying to find something that will not make us put our kids in child care. I am trying to accept that even though I will be working outside the home, I will still be required to get all my work done inside the home. Oh yeah, I haven't been working for the past three year. I am supposed to be thankful for the time off, the extended vacation and get back to work.
Maybe I should try an all stop and see if I get the message across that a Mom working inside the home is WORK.
Now as Mom-Me I am wondering when did I get time off? When did I stop working? I know I stopped getting paid for my work about three years ago, but I don't recall ever stopping work. I do admit that there was a time that I protested against my work due to lack of appreciation, but I never did an all stop. I still managed the household income and expenses, the child care, the food services and the laundry services. I never stopped being the in-house nurse, teacher, psychologist, and entertainment director. I never stopped the tap dance of trying to fullfill my commitments as daughter, daughter-in-law, sister, school volunteer, church volunteer, youth group volunteer, friend, wife, and Mom. I simply stopped housekeeping, file clerk, and administrative assistant to make a point, and my point was made by the end of a week.
We have all heard the estimated value of Mom-Me and that no household could ever afford to hire professionals to fulfill all her roles. My husband has watched those reports and so have my children. All of which have said, "Good job, Mom-Me." But now it is time to get back to work.
So I am going back to work. Do I get to pursue my career? No. I have those kids to think about. If I pursued the career I truly want, I would have to sacrifice some nights and weekends and may miss some important Mom-Me dates like games and award ceremonies. Do I get to pursue a job at least on the career path of my choice? No. If I pursue a job on the career path, then I would have to work full time year round. I suppose I should mention that my loving husband told me I had to go back to work, but to find a job that would not require child care and that would make sure I am home on time to have a hot dinner ready when he gets home from his career job of choice. So I am supposed to find a full time job with part time hours.
I love being a Mom and a Wife, but this lack of appreciation really stinks. I am looking for work outside the home that might actually pay me. I am trying to find something that will not make us put our kids in child care. I am trying to accept that even though I will be working outside the home, I will still be required to get all my work done inside the home. Oh yeah, I haven't been working for the past three year. I am supposed to be thankful for the time off, the extended vacation and get back to work.
Maybe I should try an all stop and see if I get the message across that a Mom working inside the home is WORK.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Embracing the Middle Child
The first child, everything is new. The last child, you embrace the last chance for these experiences. The middle child, it is easy to just go through the motions.
Your middle child wants to be the center of your attention, but they may never tell you. It is up to you to open the door of communication. You may have to knock several times before the door is opened. Once the door is open, do not ask Yes/No questions. Stimulate conversation by asking about hobbies, friends, favorite movies, music, if they could go anywhere, do anything, if they had super powers…. And then listen.
To help you remember to have these moments, set up a routine perhaps at bed time where you sit one-on-one and talk and listen to each child. Ten minutes (30 minutes for all three children) will build trust and comfort which will be needed as your children grow and face more difficult issues. Talking, listening does not cost a thing, but the rewards are priceless.
Credit: Winner, Disney Family’s on-going “Comment Mania Contest”, http://family.go.com/comment-contest/ (November 2007)
Your middle child wants to be the center of your attention, but they may never tell you. It is up to you to open the door of communication. You may have to knock several times before the door is opened. Once the door is open, do not ask Yes/No questions. Stimulate conversation by asking about hobbies, friends, favorite movies, music, if they could go anywhere, do anything, if they had super powers…. And then listen.
To help you remember to have these moments, set up a routine perhaps at bed time where you sit one-on-one and talk and listen to each child. Ten minutes (30 minutes for all three children) will build trust and comfort which will be needed as your children grow and face more difficult issues. Talking, listening does not cost a thing, but the rewards are priceless.
Credit: Winner, Disney Family’s on-going “Comment Mania Contest”, http://family.go.com/comment-contest/ (November 2007)
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Day 5 of Liberation, I mean Correction
Five days ago my husband and I decided to take the gaming system away from our son. This action is intended to be motivation to correct our son’s lack of responsibility in regards to his chores. We have a mixed response. Our son actually said, “This is a good week to be grounded from video games. I have had lots of time to catch up on things.” I asked him what he has caught up on, and I got a very normal kid answer, “stuff.”
Did our punishment/correction work? Yes, our son is very a tune to his duties. We have not reminded him over and over. Our son has been asking me if it is time to take out the trash. He has been asking me of the best way to get all the dishes in the dish washer. He still has not picked-up the toys in the living room, but he has a little brother who is the primary culprit to the mess in the living room.
We are pleased with the response. As a stay at home Mom, at first I was reluctant. If the kids are not busy with their toys then they are under my feet with the constant, “Mama, mama, mama, mama.” When I give and ask, “What?” Inevitably, they say, “Nothing.” And then start again, “Mama, mama….” Sorry, off point.
We are pleased with the response but perplexed on whether or not to give the system back. I have watched my son read more, draw more, play with his brother more, and he is faster to respond when I call him. I really like this child who is talkative and imaginative. If I give him back the system, will he again retreat to his room and bury his head in the games? We will lose his smiles, his laughs, his hugs to the gaming system?
Perplexed, I want to reward him for doing his chores so well, but I don’t want to lose him.
Did our punishment/correction work? Yes, our son is very a tune to his duties. We have not reminded him over and over. Our son has been asking me if it is time to take out the trash. He has been asking me of the best way to get all the dishes in the dish washer. He still has not picked-up the toys in the living room, but he has a little brother who is the primary culprit to the mess in the living room.
We are pleased with the response. As a stay at home Mom, at first I was reluctant. If the kids are not busy with their toys then they are under my feet with the constant, “Mama, mama, mama, mama.” When I give and ask, “What?” Inevitably, they say, “Nothing.” And then start again, “Mama, mama….” Sorry, off point.
We are pleased with the response but perplexed on whether or not to give the system back. I have watched my son read more, draw more, play with his brother more, and he is faster to respond when I call him. I really like this child who is talkative and imaginative. If I give him back the system, will he again retreat to his room and bury his head in the games? We will lose his smiles, his laughs, his hugs to the gaming system?
Perplexed, I want to reward him for doing his chores so well, but I don’t want to lose him.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Correction or Liberation
Teaching responsibility appears to require super hero strength and endurance. In your parent pack of powers you will need to have multiple personalities including tutor, drill sergeant, lecturer and moralizer.
We have decided our son’s vision is impaired. Though he must walk by the trash can to enter or exit the kitchen, his peripheral vision cannot detect a high level of trash. If his sensors were alarmed by the level of trash, he would then be required to pull forth his super hero strength to remove said trash and then invoke agility and skill to place a new liner in the trash can. Rewards, reminders and rebuking are not strong enough weapons to correct the impaired vision.
Since all efforts have failed, we are now resorting to elimination of privileges. Our son is a normal boy with powerful ties to his gaming system. We have decided to attack his perpetual defensive maneuvers by severing the ties to the gaming system away. Quite satisfied that the removal of his system would invoke the appropriate motivation and modified behavior, we did not take into consideration the liberation he would feel by this correction.
Granted, it has only been two days, but our son does not appear to be affected by the correction. He has taken the liberation of his attachment to the gaming system to draw from his inner imagination. He is playing. He is playing with his brother. He is playing with his non-technical toys. He is creating stories in his head. He is, dare I say it, reading. He even dusted off an old sketch pad and in addition to doodles, created a comic strip with doodles and dialogue.
I am perplexed. I want my son to learn responsibility. I want him to take ownership of his job and do it to the best of his ability, but all we have done is liberate him from a crutch we were not aware existed. Granted, it has only been two days. I suspect over time the call of the crutch will claim him, and he will attempt to recover his gaming system. But if it doesn’t, if he decides he enjoys being a member of the real and alive rather than the digital, how will we ever motivate him to take out the trash?
We have decided our son’s vision is impaired. Though he must walk by the trash can to enter or exit the kitchen, his peripheral vision cannot detect a high level of trash. If his sensors were alarmed by the level of trash, he would then be required to pull forth his super hero strength to remove said trash and then invoke agility and skill to place a new liner in the trash can. Rewards, reminders and rebuking are not strong enough weapons to correct the impaired vision.
Since all efforts have failed, we are now resorting to elimination of privileges. Our son is a normal boy with powerful ties to his gaming system. We have decided to attack his perpetual defensive maneuvers by severing the ties to the gaming system away. Quite satisfied that the removal of his system would invoke the appropriate motivation and modified behavior, we did not take into consideration the liberation he would feel by this correction.
Granted, it has only been two days, but our son does not appear to be affected by the correction. He has taken the liberation of his attachment to the gaming system to draw from his inner imagination. He is playing. He is playing with his brother. He is playing with his non-technical toys. He is creating stories in his head. He is, dare I say it, reading. He even dusted off an old sketch pad and in addition to doodles, created a comic strip with doodles and dialogue.
I am perplexed. I want my son to learn responsibility. I want him to take ownership of his job and do it to the best of his ability, but all we have done is liberate him from a crutch we were not aware existed. Granted, it has only been two days. I suspect over time the call of the crutch will claim him, and he will attempt to recover his gaming system. But if it doesn’t, if he decides he enjoys being a member of the real and alive rather than the digital, how will we ever motivate him to take out the trash?
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Screaming Child, Crying Mom
We were at a birthday party and the birthday boy had a really cool toy that my son just loved. All was good while he was allowed to play with it, but when it came time to allow another child to play with the really cool tool, my son had a melt down of nuclear explosion proportion.
As Mom, at first I just looked at him completely dumbfounded. As every eye at the party stared at us, I regrouped and tried to comfort, redirect, and appease my screaming child. His screams only got louder, so I removed him from the party area to have a “time out.” This really made him mad. I decided I had to take him home. As I tried to leave the party, the birthday boy’s father stripped my son from my arms and took him over to the toy. I was horribly embarrassed, but I was comforted by the kind gesture. I had to fight back tears.
Those tears, why was I crying? Was I crying because I was embarrassed or disappointed? Was I crying because I felt as if I failed my son somehow? Was I crying to keep myself from being fuming mad at my child? Yes, Yes and Yes.
As an adoptive Mom, I try not to allow the fact he is adopted enter into my decisions to parent. I am the only Mom he knows, and I am trying to parent him just like I did with my biological son. But I can’t help it when all eyes look at us, I question every little decision I make. Why does it matter what they think? It matters because in this day and age, disciple is sometimes viewed as abuse. It matters because a big white woman speaking harshly or disciplining a small black child could be misconstrued.
So I am crying. I am crying, because I am a Mom. I want to act like a Mom, and I don’t want to be judged for being a Mom. Adopted or not, sometimes the child needs some disciple. He doesn’t wait until we get home to throw his screaming fit and neither should I when admonishing him.
As Mom, at first I just looked at him completely dumbfounded. As every eye at the party stared at us, I regrouped and tried to comfort, redirect, and appease my screaming child. His screams only got louder, so I removed him from the party area to have a “time out.” This really made him mad. I decided I had to take him home. As I tried to leave the party, the birthday boy’s father stripped my son from my arms and took him over to the toy. I was horribly embarrassed, but I was comforted by the kind gesture. I had to fight back tears.
Those tears, why was I crying? Was I crying because I was embarrassed or disappointed? Was I crying because I felt as if I failed my son somehow? Was I crying to keep myself from being fuming mad at my child? Yes, Yes and Yes.
As an adoptive Mom, I try not to allow the fact he is adopted enter into my decisions to parent. I am the only Mom he knows, and I am trying to parent him just like I did with my biological son. But I can’t help it when all eyes look at us, I question every little decision I make. Why does it matter what they think? It matters because in this day and age, disciple is sometimes viewed as abuse. It matters because a big white woman speaking harshly or disciplining a small black child could be misconstrued.
So I am crying. I am crying, because I am a Mom. I want to act like a Mom, and I don’t want to be judged for being a Mom. Adopted or not, sometimes the child needs some disciple. He doesn’t wait until we get home to throw his screaming fit and neither should I when admonishing him.
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