Lessons From A Grandma

The blanket does not match anything else that I own, yet it sits in my living room. It is the quilt I reach for on chilly mornings when I spend time with God and a cup of coffee. I bought the blanket twelve years ago from a dear friend, Grandma V, an older Ojibwe woman.

We were probably quite an odd couple to behold. A tall, thirty-something professional and a diminutive, seventy-something Native American grandmother. We met through my job when she came to us as a foster grandparent. Within moments of our meeting, our hearts seemed to know we'd found (as Anne with an 'e' would say) a kindred spirit.

Grandma V reminded me of my grandmother, not only in her short stature and age but in her zest for life. She was fierce. Life had not been easy for her, but she remained (surprisingly) not bitter. V's laugh was infectious and as big as her heart. I loved hearing her having fun with the kids she was 'grandmothering,' correcting them in her goodnatured, loving way.

We would talk, when the kids weren't around, about the challenges of life. The struggles not only within races (she had married outside of her band and travelled to live in another state with her husband.) but between them. My youthful anger and frustration at the unfairness of life was tempered by her hard earned wisdom. She was not bitter, but filled with grace and determination that her children and grandchildren would rise above the small mindedness of those who try to limit their futures.

It's hard to say exactly why we bonded so quickly. Maybe our artist hearts (she did beadwork, along with quilting) were just drawn together. I would have missed the friendship altogether except...we both stepped out, clasped hands, open hearts and really looked at each other. In that moment, as I looked into the hazy, cataracted eyes of a woman forty years my senior, I saw joy, fears, hopes, and struggles.

I saw myself.

The world today scares me and I can't fix it. I worry for my children and their futures. Martin Luther King Jr. once said, "We must learn to live together as brothers or perish together as fools." If I watch the news for too long, I start to worry we are more like the latter than the former.

Then I remember my friend Grandma V. I drink my coffee, pray, and set my heart on showing others grace and love, no matter their race, class, situation, or age.

 I too will be fierce.

I will meet others with a handshake, an open heart, and really look at them and connect.

Mother Teresa is quoted as having said, "If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other."

I believe that to be true because, while there are many things that divide us, we all have one thing in common. We belong to each other because we are all part of the human race, fellow neighbors on this earth.

We are neighbors. 

I think that's as good a place as any to start a friendship.   

Another Father's Day Without Dad

Yesterday I attended the graduation party for my cousin's eldest. My 92 yr old uncle (the oldest living member of his family) was there and I was able to visit with him along with several other aunts, uncles, and cousins. Baby B sang "A Bicycle Build for Two" with him (currently her favorite song) and he sang her a song from his childhood. Moments like these have become precious to me as I know they may soon be gone.

After Baby B had twirled off to get sugared up, while my uncle and I shared laughter and tears remembering my dad (one of his youngest brothers).

"He was one of the best men I've ever known. He had such a good heart. He would help out anyone." he said. 

Yes he was Uncle D. He really was.

I wrote the post below last year in memory of my dad, and all the men out there who take the time to be 'fatherly.'

Fatherly Behavior

It is quite common to hear the term 'motherly' being used. Ironically, we don't use the term 'fatherly' used as often. Think about it, people will often refer to a little girl as acting 'motherly' but when a little boy is acting in a nurturing manner, we don't automatically say that he is acting 'fatherly.'

I think that's too bad.

Boys need to learn about what it means to be a father just as much as girls need to learn what it means to be a mother. Nurturing and supporting others is one of the most important things we can teach a child.

On this Father's Day, I celebrate the father that was part of my for nearly 39 years. If anyone modeled fatherly traits, it was him. The man who worked hard to not only support his family financially, but also took the time to really love his children and his wife. The man who rarely, if ever, raised his voice. Whose life demonstrated what integrity, honesty, and kindness should look like. The man who was a father/mentor/grandfather to many young boys and men through the years. The man who taught Little Man so many of the things a father would have wanted to teach him. Some of those things I thought Dad was showing Little Man at too young of an age. Now I'm thankful for those lessons he gave him.

I celebrate the dads out there who aren't afraid to show their children their silly side. Who aren't afraid to let their kids see them cry. The fathers who are a firm, kind, stabilizing force in their families. Those dads who stay with their families even when things get tough, and scary, and uncomfortable. Who are 'fatherly.'

I celebrate those men who are mentors to the children who have no father around in their life. The men who help the children without dads learn how to treat a woman, and how a woman should be treated. Who are nurturing and supporting without conditions-just out of the goodness of their heart. The men who help balance out the life of these children, whose days are so often filled with only the influence of women. They really need both.

I celebrate my Father in heaven, who promises to be there for the widowed and the orphaned. Who will help me to navigate this thing called parenting. To be there for me when I am aching so to hear my dad's voice (just one more time) as he cracked a lame joke with my son, then winked at me as he waited to see if Little Man had caught it.

For those of you who still have a father here on earth, I pray that he is one that brings you that kind of love and happiness. For those of you who don't have that kind of relationship with your father, my heart aches for you. I pray that there is someone in your life who has filled that void. And, if there isn't, I know there is a God who has been waiting for years to fill the position.

Happy Father's Day.

Happy Father's Day in heaven Dad.




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Keeping Up With the Joneses

There is an old saying, "Keeping up with the Joneses." They've even made a movie with that phrase as the title. Growing up, the saying didn't make all that much sense to me. My teenage self would have said, "I mean, what's the big deal? We all just live our lives in our own way. After all, we are all unique, right? Who would ever want to be the same as someone else?"

Aaah, the innocence of youth.  As much as we all may try, there are times in all of our lives where we may find ourselves getting caught up in the quest to keep up with society. Even our friends, neighbors, and family can become the 'Joneses' in our lives.

I have found myself on more than one occasion caught in the vicious cycle of trying to keep up. Whether it's trying to be the super single parent, the mom who plans the best birthday parties, the colleague who has everything organized and put together. Posting the best pictures on Facebook. Being the most 'artsy' of artists.

Proving to the world (or at least those who know me) that our family is doing GREAT!  I'm doing GREAT! EVERYTHING IS GREAT!!!(Super psycho smiley face implied, hope you caught it.)

Not long ago, Little Man, Baby B and I went to the park with my brother's family, and my mom. While there, I saw a mom with an impressive camera getting pictures of baby's first trip to the park. You could see how excited the mom and dad were. Expectations were high. They were going to capture this first of their precious little girl playing at the playground. That is not a bad thing (although that lens was pretty ginormous cool.)

As I looked at their amazing camera, I thought about our broken digital camera and the fact that I am currently capturing memories on my cell phone.  Just like that, they had become the Joneses. It wasn't their fault. There is nothing wrong with having a nice camera when you can afford one. They weren't trying to be flashy or showy.  They were just living out their life.

I was the one making myself feel inadequate, and envious. (Gulp.) So much for my youthful spouting off about how "We should all just live our lives!" Are there real 'Joneses' in the world? Absolutely. For some people, every aspect of life is a competition and they are the victors. This time, unfortunately, I was the one that was the problem.

At that moment I thought to myself, "Enough is enough!" The fact of the matter is, there will always be someone who is more-something- that I am not.

While I try to pride myself on my individuality, a small part of me wonders if I should maybe be more athletic, studious, friendly, creative. More motherly, more understanding, more frugal, more patient, you get the picture. I think that many people have the same internal thought process. We act self assured and yet we are always trying to be thinner, smarter, richer, poorer, etc.

Yes, there are those who encourage the competition and suddenly in life becomes a rivalry. (Kind of like the women in this clip from "The Happiest Millionaire"-I love that movie!)

"Yeah, I have given away all of my clothes except for seven items. Seven days of the week, seven items." "I gave my entire income for the year to Feed the Unicorns. They're a really worthwhile organization."

Enough already!

Aiming for self improvement is not the problem. Treating everyone as if we are in a competition, THAT is the problem.

I recycle because its a habit I started a long time ago. I give to organizations that I feel speak to me, and don't worry about what everyone else if doing. I try to eat organic and raise organic foods when I can afford to, but I'm not going to preach to you about the dangers of not eating organic unless you ask. I would love to be like Claire Huxtable (according to one of those FB profile games that is the TV mom that I am most similar to) cool and stylish and always knowing the right thing to say.

In reality, I spend an inordinate amount of time talking to my two year old about the importance of going poop.

I don't know who the original Joneses were, but I know Genesis says that Adam and Eve took a bite of that forbidden fruit because they wanted to have knowledge just like God. It seems the desire to be equal to and/or better than others started a long time ago.

Well, Joneses, I will be taking the next exit out of this crazy town to enjoy my own life. Enjoy the neighborhood without me.



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The One Million Words Project

Little Man had his last day of second grade today. It's crazy to me that he is growing up so fast. He himself will gleefully tell me that he has only eight years (okay 7 1/2) until he can get his drivers license. Yikes. Time is passing too quickly. Way to soon, my kids will be thinking I am just another adult who doesn't know half of what they know. Gone will be the days when I am "funny, cool...the best mom ever."

When I think back to my childhood, some memories stand out more than others. My dad playing practical jokes. My mom dancing with us to records in the living room. Having squirt gun fights with my siblings in the summer (where, inevitably someone would always end up crying).

What will my children remember from their childhood? What things do we do as a family now, that will make them smile looking back years from now (even when they are teenagers and can't admit it out loud)? What words can I give them that they will carry with them and share with their children?

So, I've come up with a plan. Actually, it's been rolling around in my head for a least a couple of months and I finally feel like I the idea has crystallized. Rather than crossing my fingers and hoping for the best, I've decided to be proactive.

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. My goal is to give my children the gift of a visual history of some of those big and small things that we share as a family. Trips, puddle jumping, fishing, taking walks, etc. Memories fade, but photos can be a nice reminder. I plan on recording some of my thoughts for them as well. Written accounts of things that they've said, or moments that were precious to me. Similar to the adventure book that was in the movie "Up".

AlbumOptions/Etsy.com  

A gift for them now and in the future.

I started the project June 1st, and will periodically post my photos on Instagram, Twitter, and here on the blog. Will I finish the project over the summer? Probably not. But I'm determined to leave a visual legacy for my kids to reinforce the lessons and memories we will be sharing along the road of life.

Who would like to join me? If you would like to share a moment from your own family story, you can share it on my Facebook page, or you can find me on Twitter:  @JustMamaBea.

Remember..."Adventure is out there!"



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Choose Your Words

I've been working on finding a better balance for my life. A clarification of what is REALLY important in my life was in order. For me, an introverted, headstrong, perfectionist, chatty patty, people pleaser (Yikes! Doesn't really make sense, does it?) spreading myself too thin means everyone else may be happy but I am miserable.

The more I say 'yes' to the wrong things (too many committees, projects, etc.) the more I say the wrong things to the one's closest to me (No, I can't do x,y,z with you...I just don't have the time... For the fifth time, will you please listen.) Sarcasm, impatience, sighs of frustration in response to perfectly valid requests...you know the ones. The misery of my own choosing results in those around me suffering.

One of the aresa I've decided to work on is choosing my words carefully. Thinking before I speak (a trait that I often do not practice during times of stress.)

 My children are learning from my actions and my words.

Our childhood minister once gave a sermon about choosing your words carefully. During the sermon, he shared a story about he and his siblings fighting as children. One of them said to the other, "Take it back!" after hurtful words were spoken. Then he said something that still resonates with me years later.

"You can't take it back."

People like to pretend that words are not powerful, but I disagree. Words have the power create enemies or friends. To heal or to scar. Everyone has memories of words spoken to them in their lifetime that have lifted them to greater heights, or brought them down.

 A blessing, or a curse.

I want my words to be a blessing to those around me. It's time to practice being intentional with my words and my actions.



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Unhappy People

Unhappy people are all around us in life, without us always realizing it. They come across as 'difficult.' We, more often than not, absorb their negativity and throw it right back at them. Then we continue on our way, being equally difficult to those who are unfortunate enough to cross our paths.  It's a frequently repeated occurrence.

Last week I encountered many unhappy people. Each was unhappy for a different reason.

Past Decisions

The first was dealing with pain from a decision they regretted in their past. The anger at themselves had tainted every aspect of their lives since then. Anyone that they perceived as being associated with that negative event-ready, aim, fire. That's where I walked into the picture. A completely innocent bystander, I was first shocked, sickened, and then furious. How could she, how dare she, I'll show her...you get the picture. Thankfully, I was at work so I couldn't respond right away. Then I went home and I had sick kids to take care of. When I finally was able to deal with the issue, I had taken time to breath and process. That's when I realized her anger did not have to become my own. Her anger was just her coping mechanism, her way to block the grief and sadness that she had never truly allowed herself to deal with. So I took a breath, said a prayer for her, and moved on.

Circumstances

The second was dealing with temporary circumstances that were causing a great deal of stress. Through no fault of her own, life had thrown her a curve ball. She felt overwhelmed and was sinking. Everything at this point felt like too much. Consequently, her response to everyday events was not as gracious as it normally would have been. She was hurting, had lost her joy. While she was not consciously trying to spread her pain, it was happening nonetheless. I crossed her path, got 'bit', took the bait. and bit back. I instantly regretted my reaction and worked to repair my half of the problem. In the end things, worked out fine, but it wasn't a fun situation at the time.

Failure

The third was a student of mine. We had just started a new project in class. I could see that he was determined to succeed. This young man does not do well with any missteps or imperfections. He fears failure and looking weak more than anything else. Unfortunately, as with all humans, he made a mistake on his drawing. Despite having an eraser close at hand, he instantly became angry and started to shut down. I offered a couple of solutions and tried to redirect. Instead, he started to bait the nearest student that he knew would 'bite'. Soon, I had two angry students. I told the other student what was happening, and in the end, he was able to walk away without taking the anger with him.

I encountered each of these situations over a twenty-four hour period. In two of the three scenarios, I wanted to lash out in return. It's not something I'm proud of, but it's true. I, in turn, started to become the difficult person.  It's a good lesson for me to be reminded of.

Being able to look past the anger to see the underlying pain, makes all the difference.

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Selfies vs Selfless

I was teaching my art classes how to draw self portraits the other day. Shortly after passing out the mirrors I began witnessing a variety of Facebook 'selfie' faces. I was a little taken aback. A room full of elementary students who had already mastered the art of putting a false mask on for the world. I immediately decided to explain the difference between a self portrait, and a selfie.

The experience got me to thinking. The words share the same root, yet are worlds apart in meaning. Which one are children seeing modeled more in life? Which one is getting the most attention? After all, isn't getting attention the motivator for many children's behavior? (Sheesh, aren't there many adults that still are craving attention?)

I would like to change this trend. Let's start giving SELFLESSNESS the attention it deserves. What if, we started to flood the internet with acts of selflessness, instead of selfies? What if, people started brainstorming together about ways they could help others, without expecting anything in return? An entire movement of 'other' focused thinking instead of 'me' focused.

self·less

ˈselfləs/

adjective

1. 1.

   concerned more with the needs and wishes of others than with one's own; unselfish.

   "an act of selfless devotion"

   synonyms:

   unselfish, altruistic, self-sacrificing, self-denying; More

Here's what I'm proposing. Please restore my faith in humanity and join me on this one. Look for someone acting selflessly. Post it in the comments or on our FB wall (if it's a story you've found on FB, share the link). Share this post. Get your friends involved. Let those children in our lives see that we are focusing on what's really important.

 Let's start something here.

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"Other People's Children"

Once, about ten years ago, someone told me that she thought it would, just be so sad if I never had kids "of my own" and "just took care of other people's children." The statement really rubbed me the wrong way. At the time, I was working at a middle school and loving my job. I was content with my current life situation, and I was offended by the idea that a life without children would somehow be seen as less worthy of a life. (Does making a difference in the life of a child only count if you are that child's parent? I don't think so.)

Just the other day, remembering that statement from years ago it got me thinking.

I am now the mom of two, and a teacher. I spend my workdays pouring myself into the life of the students that I work with and trying to save some part of myself for my own children when I am at home. I take my job very seriously and try to honor the trust parents have placed in me, as their child's teacher.

There is a danger I have found, however, in losing too much of myself at work. In putting so much of who I am into "other people's children" that I don't have enough for my kids. Not even close. The majority of the time, I feel like I am in a race from Monday through Friday. I know as a parent I am not unique in feeling this way.

However, am I treating my own children as well as I treat 'other people's children.'

With other people's children, I tend to be on my best behavior. I greet them with a smile, and a "how are you today?" I get down on their level. I play with them. I take the time to ask them about things that would be important to them. I don't immediately get after them if they are misbehaving. If I do feel the need to step in, I use restraint in my tone and manner. A certain amount of diplomacy is always necessary when redirecting children that are not your own. I approach them gently, kindly, but firmly giving choices and consequences. I try to make them feel respected, listened to, and important. Always conscious of the fact that they are someone's baby.

How often do I come home, barely paying attention to my own children as they vie for my attention?

Is my voice always kind? Do I get down on their level to listen to them, or do I ignore them? Do they feel important and listened to? Are they redirected gently but firmly. Are the choices and consequences clearly stated so they know their boundaries and aren't surprised when they get in trouble? Do I remember on those crazy hectic days, that Little Man and Baby B are MY babies?

I'm sure that you can guess the answer to these questions.

I have spent years trying to find the best way to reach the students I work with. Studying formally, and informally different methods to maximize learning and bring out the best in each child. Unfortunately, some days I feel like I am a pretty good teacher, and just an O.K. mom. I would like to change this. Permanently. I need to remember that teaching is my job, not my life. It's time to start 'studying' my own children and finding out the different ways to bring out their best. In fact, that is something that I have been working on during the past few weeks. That's why I've been a bit absent from blog-land. I've been noticing a change in my kids (and myself) already.

So, while I am no longer caring just for other people's children, I've decided that I am going to try to take care of my children as if they are exactly that. Make sense? ☺



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Cancer and Me

Today I had my biannual check with my oncologist to make sure that I was still Hodgkin's free. Praise God, the check up went well. I am still clear, nearing the three year mark.

An oncology waiting room is filled with people 'waiting' in more ways than one. You can almost feel everyone holding their breath. They often bring someone with them for support. To take notes, to listen to the instructions from the doctor.  Hoping and praying for good news, for positive test results, for shrinking of the cancer. You are just a breath away from good (or bad) news. There is a certain tenuousness, a frailty present when you are dealing with such a serious illness.


Except, I never felt frail when I went in for my check ups and treatments. I remember sitting in the waiting room and feeling badly for my fellow cancer patients. They all looked so scared, so tired.

God and I had our talk at the very beginning of that journey and I was going to beat Hodgkin's Lymphoma.

Absolutely.

Sitting in the waiting room with the other patients I realized something about myself that surprised me.
The fact that I hate cancer is nothing new. I would never want to go back to that place of having Hodgkin's again. But no matter how much I wouldn't want to have cancer again, I NEVER want to see one of my family members or friends go through it themselves. It terrifies me to imagine them going through what I went through. I would rather go through it for them, knowing that I have done it once already.

Hodgkin's was just a bump in the road that I was determined to get through. My son WOULD NOT lose his mother to cancer. I would not give in, and be sick. I would push through like I had with any other obstacle in my life.

Defeat was not (is not) an option. Cancer must be stopped.

My doctor doesn't want to see me again for a year. It makes me nervous in some ways. You want to just be happy about it, but there is that little part of you that is still holding its breath.

But I think maybe now it is time to start breathing again.



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It's the Little Things

I have been absent lately from the blog. Maybe you noticed maybe not. The end of 2013 has had a lot of ups and downs for our family. In September, we welcomed home Baby B, the little honey. Definitely one of the ups.But then, I lost my dad in October. That one moment in time changed everything.

Thanksgiving and Christmas were tough this year. Normally my favorite time of the year, this year my goal was to get to that finish line of New Years. We are almost there. My constant stress headache has started to lift. The grief is still there, but God has gotten me through these 'firsts'.

I've spent a lot of time in the last few weeks thinking about life in general. Remembering my childhood. What things meant the most to me? The little things. The times Mom would polka with us in the living room. When Dad told silly jokes. Playing flashlight tag in the summertime. Cross country skiing in the woods as a family.

Our time here on earth is short. My children won't be little for long. One day they will be grown and I will be gone. I would like to think that I will make some sort of small difference in the world before I leave. However, it's even more important that I make a difference in the lives of my kids.

What am I teaching them? How will they remember me?

If I look at the big picture, I am overwhelmed. It sometimes feels like I am pushing so hard from the time I wake up to the moment that I go to bed, that I don't allow room in my day to just enjoy life.

Am I focusing on the important things, or just pushing my way through each day? What are the important things? What things just don't matter?

What am I teaching my children? 

This coming year I have decided to focus on just a few little things.I'll let you know soon what those little things are.

 There will be no major New Years resolutions here.

 I have this theory that if I focus on the small stuff, it might just make a big difference.



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Just B...

Giving

Today I am tired. Really tired. It was my first full week back at work. Baby B has been having some sleep issues-stuffy head from a cold, bad dreams, not able to fall asleep at night, waking up super early.  And I still miss my dad.

This time of year can be wonderful. It can also be hard. Really hard. Christmas will be difficult with my dad gone this year. I have been struggling to maintain a good attitude as life keeps moving forward, without him. Daily tasks are tough some days. But I know that some people are having a much tougher go of it than I am.

I've always believed that the best way to get out of a funk is to help someone else. So,that's what I'm going to do. I am on a mission to make Christmas better for some people that I know and don't know. I have a couple plans already in place. I'm getting excited in fact.

What am I going to do? I'm not going to tell you. But I am going to offer you a challenge. Let's make Christmas special. Do one random kind act for someone. No strings attached. No fanfare. No publicizing for personal pats on the back.

A true Christmas gift.

We give not for praise, but for God.
 Matthew 6:1-4



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Mind Your Own...

I'm not sure exactly when, but somewhere along the line I have adopted the phrase "Mind your own..." (as in 'mind your own business')  into my daily vernacular. While it may not be grammatically correct, it is to the point and stops many issues in their tracks in the classroom. Now that I have two kids, I have found myself using the phrase at home as well.

He's humming! She's staring at me! He's touching me! They're passing notes! She budged in line!

It's funny how even children can try to micromanage the lives of those around them. Sometimes I find myself acting the same way (but over much more 'grown up issues' I'm sure...ahem.)

Kind of like Aunt Voula in  the movie "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" I suppose. ( I think she has the best lines in the movie.)

There are things life that I feel very strongly about, that really do matter. 

Important. Big. Things. 

Then there are others that really just don't.  Meat or no meat. Long hair or short hair. Courtship or dating. You know what, I don't really care. Whatever works for you. I soooo done debating the trivial. 

Years ago, I attended a concert by Morgan Cryar where he sang a song with a chorus that really stuck with me. It said "The main thing is to keep the main thing the main thing."  

Let's do that, shall we?

Philippians 4:8 Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy-meditate on these things. 9 The things which you learned and received and heard and saw in me, these do, and the God of peace will be with you.

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What's in a Name?

Growing up, I used to try to think of what the very best names would be for my kids. Or pets.

 Maybe it was because I came from a big family or because I had dreams of having a large family myself (either that or a ton of animals) 

Fast forward and here I am the mom to two sweeties who came with names of their own. Names that their birth families gave to them and ones that I would never dream of taking away. Those names are a part of them. Part of their heritage. 

Are they sometimes hard to pronounce. Yep. But, people can learn. I'm kind of ornery like that.

Many people have told me that it wouldn't matter, that I should just give them whatever name I wanted to. I am their mom now after all. They're right and because I'm their mom, I will keep their birth names and teach them to treasure their birth history.

So, what to do with all of those names that I wanted to use? Well, it looks like my future pets are going to be named Isabella, Caedman, Demeras, Joshua, Anne, etc.

That is unless I can convince my children to use those names for my grandkids...

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Somewhere There is a Little Child

Somewhere, a little child sits and wonders why she is alone, and unloved. Why others get to go to school, and she cannot. Her young mind worries over whether or not she will get a meal before she goes to bed. Or will she have to sleep again with the roaring pain of her hunger her only companion. Will she be warm enough, or even have a place to sleep?

What if she wakes up afraid in the night?

Somewhere, a little child will rise in the morning, to another uncertain day.

She will wish will all of her heart that there was someone to love her. 

But maybe she's not worth it, she'll start to think...Maybe she isn't deserving of love.

I think she's worth it and I think we can help. 

A new car, or being a part of someone's life, forever? There will always be a newer and better...something. A person's life? Priceless.

Pick one. Try it. I think you'll like it.

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Dear Friends (and Strangers)

Sometimes a video or story will go viral on Facebook. You will watch the video and want to share it with your friends. You will talk to your friends and tell them that they 'just have to see' the video or read the story.

Stories of amazing courage against all odds...

Learning from the Birds

I love watching birds any time of the year, but in the spring they are especially fascinating to me. The way they carefully take little bits and weave them together to make a home for themselves is inspiring. Looking at all the random pieces separately you'd think 'Yeah...good luck with that.' 

But they keep at it and they make it work.

Unlike us, birds don't worry about what the other birds are saying as they are building their home. They just keep working at making the perfect safe haven for their kids. 

We question whether our house is 'good' enough, comparing ourselves to others. 

Birds know to keep the 'main thing the main thing.' They don't worry about how the other birds feel about their parenting choices. They trust their instincts.

 Nest made? Check. 

Chicks hatched? Check.

 Chicks fed? Check. 

Chicks warm? Check.

 Chicks taught to fly? Check.

Today, I was reminded once again of how one person that I've known from birth does not like my parenting choices. Or the fact that I am a parent at all.

 I wish I were more like the birds, but it still bothers me that this person feels that way. Unfortunately, I let them into my quality world long before I became a parent. It is tough to remove them from it. I want to stomp my foot and demand that they quit being so judgmental and mean, but I know it will make no difference.

And so, I will take a lesson from the birds. I will build my nest. I will keep at it and make it work. My chicks are almost all 'hatched'. I will feed them. Keep them warm. Love them and teach them to fly. 

And try to stop worrying about the other birds.

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Haiti Trip Part 3: Becoming Mama

One of the best things that I did on this trip was to bring a photo book with pictures of Baby B, Little Man, and myself (Mama) from our first trip. My thinking was the more pictures that Baby B has of us together, the more it will start to become real to her that we are in fact a family. 

We belong together.

I had an older book that I used made by Sassy that I had put pictures in when Little Man came home from Ethiopia.

They still make the books, but I had a short notice about travelling for my Embassy visit and didn't have time to order a new one. (Thursday afternoon I was notified of my appointment, Monday I was flying off to Haiti).

One thing that surprised me with the book was that as Baby B and I looked over the pictures together with the other babies, and toddlers around, the other little peanuts were learning our names as well! B loved telling everyone who was in the book with her.

When I came to visit the second day, there were calls of 'Mama, Mama' from every verbal child in the younger group as I entered the locked courtyard.

Imagine a room filled with 10 to 15 little ones ranging in age from newborn to three.

 Enter a really tall Caucasian lady, bearing stickers and bubble soap. 

To say I was swarmed would be an understatement.

While Baby B and I spent a great deal of time playing on our own, we also spent a portion of every visit with Baby B showing me off to her friends and the nannies. I felt it was very important for me to form memories with her in her 'old life' to start our history together and to bridge the transition when she comes home.

Anyone who knows me knows I am unable to let a baby cry. If they are crying, there is a reason. Luckily my arms are strong and I'm using to carrying around multiple children.

I'm sure it was very amusing for the nannies to watch 'Mama' going around: scooping up babies, blowing bubbles, handing out hugs, turning down offers of food from two year old's mouths, trying to keep toddlers from ripping toys out of each other hands, having her smooth hair patted by curious little hands...

The nannies are doing a great job, but there are only so many hands to go around. The older children were excited to practice their English with me. A few of them are just waiting for their paperwork to be finalized so that they can go home. Their English is quite good, and you can tell great care is being taken to prepare them for their future families.

 I feel it was an honor and a privilege for me to love on these little children.

 My hope is that perhaps when their forever parents walk through that door to meet them, the transition will be a little easier because they will remember when Baby B's mama came and loved on them. 

Their faces will always be with me, and I will pray that their families come for them soon. They are wonderful little people just waiting to join their forever families.

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Just B...

...Just.

Life isn't fair.

 As a child, this fact caused me to shed a lot of tears and, quite frankly, I got really mad. I would fume inside watching all of the unhappiness in the world.

As I got older and came to grips with the fact that I couldn't change the world (you were right Mom and Dad) , I decided to focus on what I could change. 

Myself.

So while I could sit around complaining about how 'unfair' (cue whiny voice) life is, it seems to me that it is a bit more productive to take action. 

 I will fight for those who can't always speak up to fight for themselves. When those most vulnerable in our society are treated unfairly. Children, the elderly, those with special needs. I will make sure those children that I interact with know that I believe in them and that they are special. When that elderly person is crossing the street, or needs help in the grocery store, or is driving in front of me on the highway, I will remember my grandmother, and treat them with respect and patience. When that special needs student is having an especially hard day, I will think of one of my favorite cousins, who may never intellectually reach adulthood, but has taught so many people sooo much over the years. 

Life may still be unfair, but I am going to do my best to make it a little more just. 

He has showed you, O man, what is good; and what does the LORD require of you, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God?  Micah 6:8

My 'Big' Little Man

The other day while riding in the car, Little Man and I had a brief, but very interesting conversation.

It went something like this.

 Little Man:   "You know, when it's the end, I'd let someone else borrow my heart."

 Me: "You mean when you don't need it anymore?"

Little Man: "Yeah. I'd share it."

Me: "Cool. What made you think of that?"

Little Man: "Oh, I just thought of it. I would do it though."

Me: "That's really nice of you."

In our house, organ donation is maybe not as foreign an idea as it might be in some homes. You see, right around the time Little Man was being born in Ethiopia, I was donating a kidney. I joked at the time that my kidney donation was my 'birthing' experience. Little did I know...Donating my kidney was a no brainer to me. I had two kidneys, was healthy, no kids. Of course I would give one away. (When I was diagnosed with Hodgkin's Lymphoma, I was a little worried about how the chemo would effect my remaining kidney. My oncologist told me not to worry. I had done a good thing donating in the first place, he said, and that should warrant a free pass to any kind of complications. That sounded good to me.)

Little Man has asked many questions about my donated kidney, analyzing the idea (as he likes to do) to decide what he thinks of it. Looks like he agrees with his mama that it's nice to share.

Photo: Lauren Marie Photography

I have to admit, I'm pretty proud of him.

Just B...

Amazing!

Sounds a little bold doesn't it? But hang in there with me for a second. 

If...

I believe that every life is important, and valuable (which I do)

 ...and that everyone has a purpose in life that they can choose to fulfill or not (check)

 ...and that every person is an amazing creation of God (double check)...

then...

 I also must believe that I my life is important and valuable

 ...and that I have a purpose in life (that I can choose to fulfill or not) 

...and that I am an amazing creation of God.

Hmmmmmmm.

So, maybe my job is just to be who I am because that is who God meant for me to be. To be faithful, continuing on my journey, and not worry about other people's paths. Not being afraid to be passionate about those things important to me. Allowing my heart to be broken by the things that break God's heart. Laughing, singing, dancing when the mood strikes. Making things with my hands (I LOVE that), collecting quotes, admiring the beauty of nature, eating chocolate, treasuring my children.

There a so many things that make me, me. Some are right out there for the world to see, others remain more hidden. Am I perfect. Nope. I'm human. Flaws, scars, temper, clumsiness, and all.

God's creation is amazing and I'm part of it. Maybe not Mount Everest amazing, more like hummingbird amazing, or spider web amazing.

 And that...is amazing!

What makes you amazing?

I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvellous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well. ~Psalm 139:14