Brave, Anyway

Tag: children

  • Self Care and *Real* People

    Self Care and *Real* People

    I don’t think I can scroll through social media for more than two minutes without seeing some sort of post about self care. Sometimes I read things like Be patient with yourself and I roll my eyes, and other times I see You are allowed to eat three donuts and I feel like nobody gets me like that person gets me.

    Self care has twenty million posts on Instagram. Twenty million posts to encourage people that they are worthy. Worthy of rest or happiness or love or attention or respect or health. What does it say about our world that so many people need a reminder that they are worthy? What does it say about me that I sometimes need that reminder?

    I know that self care is about wellness, and that there are millions of people out there that need real help and a real plan to care for themselves properly. Self care is critically important for them. My experience with the term self care is in a more buzzword kind of way – like a special password that tells me someone is going to spend time in a way that makes them feel good. A pedicure. A round of golf. A bubble bath.

    Those are all nice things but it seems like we should be striving to live lives where we don’t get to the point of needing a fix of some sort for a few hours. Self care in that buzzword-scenario seems like filling potholes instead of figuring out how to make better roads. Shouldn’t we practice self care proactively, as a lifestyle, instead of occasionally fitting it in after a build-up of seemingly overwhelming things?

    It comes down to three things, I think:

    • shedding Mom guilt
    • balance
    • getting real people in our village

    And actually, I think maybe the number one thing we can do to practice self care is in that third bullet – it’s in surrounding ourselves with people who love us enough to be real with us and tell us the truth. If we treat others like we want to be treated, live lives we can be proud of, and live in a balanced, healthy way mentally and physically and spiritually we should not need pothole-type-self care. But because we’re not perfect and we make mistakes and sometimes we stray onto paths that aren’t the best for us, it’s critically important that we have people around us who will not accept our bullshit and who will call us out on our bullshit.

    We need balance and truth in our lives in order for self care to really be a way of life.

    We tend to hide our dysfunction. Simply, we don’t want to be embarrassed or ashamed. But it’s in our moments and situations of dysfunction that it’s absolutely critical that the people around us be people we have chosen carefully and purposefully – that they be those people who we knew would be able to say to us that’s such BS, or you’re lying to yourself, or you need to take care of yourself, or that’s not right, or you’re hurting yourself/others. And on top of that, dysfunction, if it must be or is revealed, will then seek other dysfunction instead of truth – above all else because it craves approval and it craves cohorts. Dysfunction wants others to say with their words or behavior that what’s happening is OK.

    Healthy people – our purposefully chosen village around us who practice actual love – will call out our dysfunction. It’s other dysfunction that tells us our bad path or our poor choices or our hiding is OK. Healthy encourages focus, while dysfunction encourages distraction. Healthy encourages responsibility, while dysfunction encourages avoidance. Healthy encourages help, while dysfunction encourages further isolation.

    In my circles right now, self care is mostly a password that allows moms to take a small amount of time “off” from focusing on our children, which is how we spend the vast majority of our time, and instead spend an hour on a pedicure or taking a Sunday afternoon nap. It’s the occasional prescription for a life filled with busy-ness.

    My life is filled with busy-ness, and I actually like that the vast majority of the time. Also, it’s necessary right now. This is a period in my life where I’m a working Mom of two children who are at stages where they can get themselves a simple meal but they can’t yet drive. Where they need an engaged Momma to make sure they are on the right path each day, and to make sure that their hormones aren’t an excuse for not practicing kindness, and that they get up and appropriately dressed and out of the house on time, that they don’t blow up the microwave, that they get to appointments and gymnastics and swim and chorus and youth group and play dates and football games.

    I also want the girls to look back on their childhoods and remember that their Mom didn’t just have guidelines and rules, but that she played – that she splashed in the ocean even though we all had regular clothes on, that she let them put crazy makeup all over her face, and that she sang Lizzo when the car windows were rolled down.

    This is a relatively short period of my overall life and I have to use this time so wisely. I realized this week that in this time the girls need to also see me model balance and self care. They need to learn it as a way of life and they’ll do that in part by watching me. It’s not enough to get pedicures together, which we just all like to do. We have to talk about the importance of down time, we have to take afternoons to rest together, we have to practice gratitude together, we have to help each other choose our village carefully, and we have to talk openly about when we’re overwhelmed. We have to bravely and purposefully be real with others, and bravely and purposefully surround ourselves with people who will be real with us.

  • First Day of School

    First Day of School

    It’s the first day of school and I’m up before the sun, hours before any alarms go off, excited about your year ahead and praying for your year ahead.

    Each year of school brings so many new milestones, from new kinds of math to discoveries about yourself to lessons about people and relationships. As your understanding grows, the world gets bigger and bigger – the number of people and things you impact gets bigger and the number of people and things that impact you gets bigger.

    And so I pray for your growth, in height because I know that’s important to you and in knowledge, faith and spirit because that’s what’s most important to me.

    I pray for your protection, from all forces and people that would harm you physically, mentally or spiritually. And I pray for your discernment to recognize those bad forces that you’ll undoubtedly encounter, and that you will steer clear of them.

    I pray you’ll be intentional about your choices. That you won’t expect opportunities and jobs and friendships and relationships to just happen to you. Sometimes the things in your life that seem easy or seem to just fall in your lap are not right for you, and if you’re living intentionally you’ll see that they are distractions from your best choice and your best life.

    I pray that you’ll be intentional about your thought patterns and your peace. That you make choices to discard negative thoughts about yourself and others, that you seek friendships that add to your peace and positivity and joy and happiness, that you set boundaries to enable peace to thrive in your life, and that you actively hold on to your peace.

    I pray that you will not forget who you are and Whose you are. And that when you make choices that aren’t the best, that you never forget that you are always loved and forgiven.

    I pray you will be kind, to others and to yourself. Everyone you encounter each day struggles in some way, and I pray you will have empathy and patience and that you will see what God wants you to see in each person and in yourself.

    I pray that you will see you as God sees you.

    I pray that in the big scheme of things you will put greater focus on how things look on the inside of you than how your hair and makeup and outfit make the outside of you appear.

    I pray you will have fun. That you will enjoy your life, that you won’t take embarrassing things that happen too seriously, that you will find the funny in all things, and that you will make the fun when you or others are struggling to smile.

    I pray that you will love learning, and not just the stuff you’re going to read in books or online resources. I pray for your passion – that as your knowledge of subjects grows you’ll want to know more and more, that as your knowledge of the world grows you’ll want to go out into it more and more, and that as your knowledge of injustice grows you’ll want to act more and more.

    I pray you will surround yourselves with friends of all different kinds and perspectives. Kids who will introduce you to different kinds of thinking and music and art and play and faith. And I pray you will see the value in every single difference and person.

    I pray that you will not give up. You will sometimes want to, after a long hour or day or week, or when you’re halfway through a project and realize you need to start over. At those moments you’ll feel frustrated and you’ll cry, and maybe you’ll scream inside or have an actual shouty tantrum. It’s OK to embrace all those feelings and even to get sucked into them for a little while, but then I pray you’ll shake it off and get back to the task at hand or to simply living.

    I pray that wherever you are, you will always know that you can call me or text me to help you or to help your friends or to help your enemies. I pray that while you may fret that something will make me mad, that that fear will be overridden by the truth that I love you and I want what’s best for you. That the fear that something will make me disappointed will be overridden by the truth that nothing you do could make me not love you and that I have been in your shoes and have made the tough call you’re dreading to my own parents.

    And finally, on your first day of school I pray for me. That I will have the courage to face my fears and let you fly further. That I will give you just the right amount of space and room to grow. That I will not do too many things for you and I will allow and encourage you to do more yourself. That I will remember that most people and kids are good, and that you are not actually in danger the vast majority of the time. And that I will successfully resist the urge to smother you with kisses at the bus stop.

    I also pray that I will remember this day specifically. I’ll remember that Ella Facetimed with her best friend at 5:30 am so they could “get ready together.” I’ll remember that big-girl Audrey set out lipstick and perfume along with her shoes.

    And I pray I’ll remember that as I walked around the house turning off all the lights before going to work, I realized that girl bathrooms don’t change much with the generations – countertops are covered with makeup and hairspray and devices that are absolutely required for us to look just right for the day.

  • Help Me To See

    Help Me To See

    For the last couple of weeks, I’ve been focused on this mantra: God, help me to see what you want me to see. A speaker at a retreat I attended shared that she’s been starting her day that way, and it stuck with me.

    God, help me to see what you want me to see.

    We see and process thousands of images each day. Tens of thousands. Our brains process what we see in milliseconds, and then do things like tell our eyes what to look at next or create a smile in response to joy.

    Everything we see communicates something to us. We may need to see more in something or we may need to see (or “read”) less into something, but everything we see has a message. And as we interact with people throughout the day, I think the vast majority of what we see is based on choices – our choices, the choices of others, and our reaction to the choices of others. Our brains process, we make judgements based on, and we have reactions to or feelings about things like what someone chose to wear, what attitude someone chose to have, or what action someone chose to take or not take.

    What we see in ourselves and in others is a lot about choices. And the more I purposely focus on God help me to see what you want me to see the more the word “you” becomes important. God help me to see what YOU want me to see.

    About 18 months ago, I journaled about choices:

    * We are all a product of our choices.

    * Our choices reveal who we are.

    * Our choices reveal our priorities.

    * Choices that are easy moment to moment often end up being costly.

    * Everything in our lives is a reflection of our choices. What we are or are not is a reflection of our choices.

    * If you’re an adult, you make and made your own choices. No one but you is responsible for the life you’re living. One of the many choices throughout any given day is to turn around or not, to restart on a new path, or be lazy, or continue on a path of bad choices.

    * If you have children, literally every choice you make impacts them somehow.

    * Loyalty is a choice. Integrity is a choice. Love is a choice. Hate is a choice. Forgiveness, Honesty, Courage, Vengeance, Bitterness, Presence, Busyness, Learning, Happiness, Faith, Patience are all choices.

    * Your reactions to the behavior of others are choices.

    * Not making a choice or letting others choose for you are choices.

    * Your background and experiences shaped who you are, but where you are or are not in life goes back to your choices. You are not a victim of the choices of others unless you choose to be, but you are simply the product of your own choices.

    * You have the freedom to choose anything and everything, with the exception of the consequences of your choices.

    I went looking for that entry a couple days ago and have reread it several times trying to decide if the list is complete. It’s not, and this is what’s missing: choices are the primary thing we see in people.

    No words I speak ever communicate as clearly or as loudly as the choices I make. No words we speak ever communicate as clearly or as loudly as the choices people see us make. No art we create and no words we write tell the story of who we are like the choices people see us make. What conveys the truth about what we actually believe in are the choices we make. What conveys who and what is actually the priority in our lives are the choices people see us make. No one has more influence over the message of who we are than we do, and that’s because the only person responsible for our choices is us.

    Choice is our most powerful communication tool. Our choices are greater than any spoken or written I love you. Our choices are the proof.

    And the reality that choice is our most powerful communication tool is even more significant for parents. Children often don’t understand our grown-up words, so all they have to go on is the choices they see us make. And as children get a little older they don’t believe the words we say because they don’t want to listen to anyone or even because we’ve let them down before, so they look at the choices they see us make. We have to constantly assess what our choices are showing them. That’s when God help me to see what you want me to see becomes God help me to see what my children see in me.

    God help me to see what you want me to see. Help me to see what you want me to see in me. Help me to see what you want me to see in others. Help me to see what I’m communicating with each choice I make. Help me to see.

  • April Fool’s Birthday Girl

    Fourteen years ago, in the middle of the night, I was doing the exact same thing as I am right at this moment: laying in bed with my daughter just a few feet away, marveling about her.

    Ella was born not long after midnight, on April 1. After all the post-delivery chaos of Apgar scores and examinations and congratulations, everyone went home and I was alone in a dimly lit hospital room with Ella. I had a daughter, a little swaddled baby making faint sighing noises in her sleep. I was a mother, and it was really just remarkable and unbelievable that a life had come from me. We were a team now, me and this little being with giant blue eyes that had seemed to look all around my face when I whispered to her. We were a team and that little girl should have been terrified because the Mom on her team had absolutely no idea how to care for a baby or what she was doing.

    I wasn’t a child who’d dreamed of being a Mommy. I wasn’t a teenager who’d babysat to make extra money. I wasn’t a person who held other people’s babies. In the more than three decades of my life prior to Ella’s birth, I’m not sure if I held any baby other than my nephew – and that was always supervised by people who knew what they were doing. My poor kid had a Mom with a very short resume. I’d gone to a class to learn how to breathe consistently during her birth process, I’d learned in that class that I had to always always always hold and support her neck and head, I’d read a couple of books about babies and I’d even read ahead in the infamous What to Expect the First Year manual, and a nurse maybe 30 minutes prior showed me how to give her a bath. At any Mom company on the planet, I would not get the job.

    Ella is 14 years old today. So the good news is that despite my lack of qualifications and preparedness, I did manage to keep her alive. Although I’m not sure that’s really much of an accomplishment. What you learn as your child ages and as you have multiple children is that they’re built pretty tough and I could have probably better utilized my countless hours fretting about things like possible milk or nut or bee allergies, could she get botulism if honey was simply nearby, when to switch from car seats to booster seats, and even if french fries with pointed ends could be too stabby in her mouth.

    The real fretting settles in later, and seems especially heightened at this stage. The real question to fret over is am I guiding her toward being a good person? Or maybe it’s could her life be better if I did something differently? Or maybe it’s have I laid a solid moral foundation? Or maybe it’s am I properly protecting her from bad stuff and bad people? Or maybe it’s am I properly preparing her to inevitably face bad stuff and bad people? Or maybe it’s am I setting a proper example? Or maybe it’s have I prepared her to say no and yes at the proper times?

    There is no end to the things I can fret about, and sometimes I just get exasperated with all the fretting I cannot seem to relinquish and I think I should have stuck to raising cats – I am certain I can do that! And yet I must explore all these questions and constantly assess and reassess what’s missing and what’s off and what’s right and what’s wrong. I have to do that because I’m a Mom, and because my greatest responsibility and privilege is to be her Mom. No other responsibility or people or thoughts or desires or work are more important than her and Audrey, or than what I need to do as a Mom.

    I’ve never been one of those people that wanted to throw their kids giant birthday celebrations every year. It’s exhausting to plan and host those events and it’s exhausting to take your kids to them throughout the school year. Last year we had a party because Ella was finally a teenager and because I wanted to bring her joy in a time of confusion and sadness and anger. And so until about a week ago I’d expected to have a quiet birthday with her this year. She started talking about having a friend or two over and then another friend and then another, and then it was going to need to be different people on different nights and I found myself panicking at the thought of having very little time to prepare. And just as all the panic was at its peak, I realized that Ella has only four birthdays left in her official childhood. Four. Four is nothing. A tiny number. How could there possibly be only four childhood birthdays remaining?

    So we celebrated. We had two sleepovers, two cakes and a set of cupcakes, stacks of facial scrubs and masks, trampoline jumping way after bed time, shopping with gal pals at the mall, singing at Olive Garden, and countless pieces of candy. I’m exhausted and my house is even messier than the mess it was last week. I have a recycle bin full of empty pizza boxes, a basket full of laundry, a trash can full of makeup wipes and KitKat wrappers, and a Momma heart full of gratitude.

    I am grateful for Ella, a young lady who’s lovely inside and out. A kind and thoughtful friend. A super smart math whiz. A talented singer and actor and gymnast. A child of God who prays about everything, from the need for guidance about big issues to finding her phone charger. A young lady full of empathy and the desire to care for people who struggle. She may not keep her room clean, but she will take money out of her own wallet for CHKD or to feed the homeless or to buy a treat for a friend who’s feeling down.

    I am grateful for the village of people in her life. I am grateful for the choices she’s now making about what kind of people to add to her village – I may have made the initial choices about who surrounded her, but she’s old enough to make her own choices about those things now, and she’s choosing well. And I am grateful that she’s such a wonderful young person despite all my flaws and mess ups.

    In the stillness of night tonight, in a dimly lit room just like on our first night, I laid quietly by myself and prayed for sweet Ella. No matter what she may encounter in her life I want her to know deep inside and beyond a shadow of a doubt – or as my Dad would say “that she knows that she knows that she knows” – that she is loved beyond measure and that it is a privilege to be her Mom. I pray that she would love life and be filled with joy. I pray that she would get into the college she wants and have the career that she wants and get the life partner that’s just right for her and that she will keep her priorities straight. I pray that when she’s happy or sad or mad or has messed up or done something great, she will always want to call her Mom. And I pray that I will always have discernment about how to pray for her and how to guide her and how to be a blessing to her.

    Happy Birthday, Brave Girl. I love that you are 14 and still call me Mommy, even when your friends are around. In exchange, I will no longer publicly chase you to smother those perfect cheeks with kisses.

    Picture submitted by and approved by Ella.
  • Melancholy Mom Notes to My Girls

    Melancholy Mom Notes to My Girls

    When you are sad or hurting it breaks my heart. I would rather feel the pain of someone smashing a limb of my own than watch you struggle. Watching you struggle and knowing the reason why fills me with sadness and regret. And it motivates me to do absolutely everything possible to make the remainder of your childhood as great and as carefree as possible. To get you any help and to tap any source to see you genuinely smile and feel peace.

    I will do anything to help you grow into responsible and caring and successful adults, and that includes setting boundaries for you and having rules for you and even enforcing consequences for you when those rules are broken. It’s my job, my most important job, to help you see how to be good people and to help you want to be good people.

    I want more than anything for you to trust people. To believe firmly that the vast majority of people are good. And instead of focusing on the havoc that selfishness in people can wreak, I want you to focus on the best of people that you have seen – the people who have rallied around you and loved you and supported you and prayed for you.

    I want you to know beyond a shadow of a doubt what love is and what love isn’t. I want you to know that you know, deep down in your gut. Things may get confusing as you explore relationships of your own, and when you’re confused I hope you will seek the counsel of the right friends and adults. Just as you would choose a cardiologist for a physical heart problem, choose people who have loved with honor and integrity and selflessness for an emotional heart problem.

    I hope you two rely on each other always, even when you’re mad at each other or in different places in your life. You are each the only other person in the whole world who has experienced love and heartbreak and disappointment and resilience together during this time. You can keep each other grounded, you can keep each other honest, and you can support each other as no one else can. Commit yourselves to letting each other say anything, and to forgiving each other no matter what.

    I understand that in great part you will learn from your parents how to be a parent. I really, really, really hope I am a good enough example, but I know with absolute certainty that I fall short. A lot short. I commit to always doing my best to be honest with myself about the good and bad, to allowing you to be honest with me about the good and bad, and to trying to do better.

    No matter what, I want you to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I will always prioritize you and choose you over anything and anyone and everything and everyone.

    I will always choose you.

    I will always choose you.

    I will always choose you.

    I will always, always, always choose you.

    No one, including and especially me, will ever be more important than you.

    Love you my girlys.