Fatherly Behavior

Those of you who know me, know that I am raising Little Man and Baby B 'on my own.' (Alone, I guess, if you don't count the support structure of carefully vetted friends and family that I have surrounded us with.) According to statistics, the chances for a bright future while having no father may not be as bright for them as for those children being raised in a two parent home. I know that, so please don't feel the need to comment on that fact after reading this post. I will just delete your comment. We plan on ignoring the statistics. Now that we've taken care of that, shall we continue?

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.



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The Deconstructed Home

Deconstructed food is all the rage these days. The Barefoot Contessa was on today and Ina Garten was making a deconstructed lobster salad. I've seen other shows where they have deconstructed different dishes-everything from strawberry shortcake to chicken kiev to black forest cake. There are even pinterest groups dedicated to the idea. Pretty fancy schmancy stuff from what I've gathered. ☺

Today as I flipped past the deconstructed lobster salad, I was hit with a genius thought. (Hang with me here).

According to one definition of the word deconstuct it means to break down into components;dismantle. Well, I don't know about you but we are super good at breaking things down and dismantling in our house. (Don't mean to brag or anything.) It's just the whole putting things back together part where we struggle.

In fact, we are so good at deconstructing that I am currently hoping to "reconstruct" our home into something that less resembles a home in the early stages of packing up to move.

We all want a clean, beautiful home. But life happens and since we live in our home, that is not always the case. Especially when it's the end of the school year...and you're me.

I recognize that even the top chefs who love created 'deconstructed' dishes do not ONLY make deconstructed masterpieces. Speaking only for myself, I am definitely on a mission to eliminate all of the extra 'stuff' out of our home (I blogged about that quest before), create defined spaces for the stuff, and make the housework more manageable. Frankly, right now we are at one of our low points as far as having things organized and looking presentable.

My main goal for this month is to donate a ton of junk and create concrete parking spots for the stuff that we do keep. Little Man is all in, and Baby B loves putting things away when it's a game. Will there still be days where our house looks a little bit deconstructed? Absolutely! To me, that's how you know you're in a house that people truly live in.

 But, if someone pops in for a surprise visit when the house is a mess, I now have a new explanation.

Oh, and if you are planning on stopping by before July, could you give me a couple of hours heads up so that I can shove everything in a closet put away a couple of things? Thanks.


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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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What Makes Someone Brave?

A couple of weeks ago I was having a tough go of it. Feeling overwhelmed, incompetent, never able to complete things that I felt had to be done, and short tempered with those around me.

Then somebody told me I was brave.

When she said it, I stopped short. I had been in the middle of mentally telling myself not to cry (after being told something cutting another person had been saying about me.)

I have never thought of myself as brave. I am frequently second guessing myself. Often fighting off fears that I am doing the wrong thing or that things are about to go badly. Berating myself for all of the mistakes I have made. The would haves, could haves, should haves. When a job needs to be done, I'm an 'okay' fill in, but never first pick. Last choice. Stubborn, yes, but never brave.

Yet, this person saw me in a totally different light. I didn't know what to say. I started to ask myself, why didn't I think of myself in that way?  It almost felt like God whispered in my ear at that moment and said "See, cut yourself some slack."

My doubts and fears can partially be attributed to the voices I have chosen to listen to from outside.

You know how it goes, those off handed comments comparing us negatively to others ("Oh, her mom is sooooo nice, she never gets crabby or anything." "When so and so used to work here, this is how he did it." "Did you let her pick out her own clothes today?" ) Those watchful eyes, analyzing your every move, yet staying painfully silent. The noises of disapproval ("Hmmm," "Ooookaaay," "Well that's so...nice.") Then my favorite, the outright bossy, direct approach: "No, no, no! That's not how you do it at all. When I was raising my kids..."

The thing is, I've chosen to listen to these negative messages and internalize them.

But lately I been asking myself, if I don't consider myself brave...then what is brave?

Here's what I've come up with so far.

~Pushing forward even when you feel like giving up.

~Loving, no matter what you get back in return.

~Sacrificing for others, expecting nothing in return.

~Knowing who to listen to in our lives, and who to ignore.

~Speaking up for those who have no voice.

~Risking failure for a good cause.

The more I thought about it, the more I have realized that brave does not have to mean loud, or flashy. "Brave" isn't just reserved for the big stuff. It's in the little things too. The day to day trek through lifes ups and downs. Through the homework struggles, car payments, and aging.

Faithful, quiet, steady, but determined.

Something like this...

That's the kind of brave I'm going to try for. Anyone else ready to be brave?

For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind. 2 Timothy 1:7



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Spring Break

I am currently on break from regular blog posts and working on some other 'non-blog' things. I may still be occasionally posting status updates and kid pics, but I am tired to the core and God and I have some little projects to finish.

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8 Tips for the Strong Willed Parent

I was what people call a 'strong willed' child. I knew what was expected of me and would behave appropriately in public (most of the time). At home however, it was a different story.

My poor parents. I know that many of their gray hairs have my name on them. They told me when I was out of college that they seriously wondered if I would survive to adulthood (yep, that bad).

The ironic part of all of this is that I am now raising not one, but two strong-willed children. Each one has their own strong-willed tendencies. This doesn't mean that they are bad children. They have definite leadership potential. They are loving, sensitive, creative kids. Thankfully, the battles they each pick aren't the same ones. Usually, they aren't at the same time either.

The funny thing is, at the end of a day full of battles, my kids aren't the problem...I am.

Being a former strong willed child, part of me wants to pull on the gloves when I sense conflict. I think the word that my mom used to use for it was being 'ornery' or 'contrary'.  You say yes? Well then, my answer must be 'no'. Try to back me into a corner decision wise...I'll come out fighting.

I know, it makes no rational sense and is completely juvenile. In most adult situations, I can mentally talk myself down from this mindset. With my kids however, I have the added piece of 'Hey, I'm the grown-up here. Just obey me now, okay?' My kids know exactly which buttons to push to get me going. The last thing they need is a mom who is playing a headbutting game of wills over ridiculous things, just for the sake of having my own way.

So, what's a parent to do?

I've narrowed it down to eight things for myself.

1. Admit that I have a oppositional streak. Ask myself "Is it really the kids picking the battle, or am I just in a 'mood.'"

2. Take a break. Don't discipline until I can do so calmly and rationally.

3. Look back to look forward. I was a strong-willed child and I turned out okay. I just need to work the rest of my strong willed 'kinks' out. What did my parents do to help me turn into a successful adult.

4. Make a research project out of it. I've been trying to figure out what things are triggers for me, and what my children's triggers are.  If it helps to avoid conflict in the long run, it's worth it.

5. Laugh a little. Talking to other formerly strong willed children (and parents) helps a ton. Not only does it help me to be able to laugh a little at my struggles, but suddenly I no longer feel so alone in this journey. Plus, most of us have at least one strong willed child so we have a lot a stories to share.

6. Take care of myself. The better I eat, the more I sleep, and the more I move the better I parent. Remember how crabby you would be the day after Halloween as a kid when you were coming down from your sugar rush and had gotten to bed too late? Enough said.

7. Admit defeat. Sometimes I will be wrong. I will make the wrong decision. I will jump to the wrong conclusion and I need to tell my kids those two words, "I'm sorry." It's not a sign of weakness, it's a sign of strength and it's something that my children need to see me model.

8. Pray for wisdom and discernment. God will point out to my flaws and weaknesses if I ask him. I might not always like what I discover but it's worth it.

Becoming a parent didn't mean that I automatically had all of the answers. Boy, was that disappointing to discover! But, being a parent does mean I need to be the best that I can be so that I can help my children become their best. To do that I need to take care of my strong willed tendencies, so that they don't raise their ugly head during the sometimes stressful journey of raising two amazing human beings.

I think I am up for the challenge. Remember...I'm kind of strong willed. ☺



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