Tag Archives: children

A look of… love.

I have been receiving many different types of looks since I had my hair done in tiny braids and wraps. Ranging from “ummm what is wrong with that woman” to “cool!” Thankfully I’ve gotten quite a few “So cool!” comments, even if they ended with “I could never do that!” I know my taste in clothing and style is very different than those that surround me now. If I wear knee high boots, they’ll have fringe and be faux suede. If I wear leggings, they’ll be covered as much as possible. I love going barefoot and so if my kids don’t HAVE to wear shoes I won’t put them on them. If they don’t have to brush their hair and look all proper for a job interview, I won’t make them. My children look as wild as they are. I love that. Just like I love flowers that are typically considered weeds (even the prickly ones!) I love my kids to be as natural as they want. 

I HATED having my hair brushed and done when I was little. It was not a fun thing for me and always ended in tears. My kids are bathed regularly (ok if you call sometimes twice a day and sometimes a day is skipped, regular) and they are well taken care of. Their needs are very well met and I border on a helicopter mom. They are loved that is the best of our (my husband-their dad and my) abilities. They are mostly well behaved even! I’m not going to force things that truly don’t matter when it’s all said and done. 

That all being said, I don’t mind the looks when it comes to me. But when a person gives my kid a dirty look because he’s wearing cowboy boots with gray skate style shorts and a red DC t-shirt, with his Mohawk all messy and wild, well that’s another story. He was being perfectly behaved, helping me carry his newly purchased birthday scooter and chatting away with me in a happy-go-lucky way that is purely him. He’s 5 and absolutely perfect to me. In that moment he was even being perfect in all ways that count. He was respectful of those around him and staying out of a main walking path and staying clear of all the crap that clutters the cash registers and typically tends to throw him into a grumpy fit because he can’t have any of the crap. He was being AMAZING!!

Yet, the cashier and some random lady both stared with scowls and dirty looks at him. There was no cheer in their eyes. Just judgment. I could have said something about the cashier and her frizzy hair in the same manner that she was judging my son. I didn’t even bother looking at what the other lady was wearing because I became more focused on loading up and talking with my son. 

Now, because I have been in a place where I end up placing my own worries and insecurities on others I checked myself and I feel clear of worries and insecurities (in this area anyways haha!). I am left with a feeling of wonder at people who feel children should be so restricted. I’m curious as to their thoughts on this, why they feel their children should look a certain way. Does this make them behave better? My children are pretty well behaved (and that’s including their delays which tend to create more difficult situations that would typically make the delayed child appear to others as horribly behaved) and are happy and friendly. Do you feel it teaches them something for the future? If so, what?

I truly am curious because I’m just doing what I feel is best but if there is a better way I am all for change! I want what’s best for my kids and if someone knows of something that would be great for my kids that would make a good difference in their lives and future then I’m absolutely interested in that. I will never claim to be all knowing, ESPECIALLY when it comes to parenting. I am just flying by the seat of my pants and a WHOLE LOT of faith in God. 

I hope that I will always give those around me a look of love and grace. I know my face is an open book and very expressive and I pray that every expression I give to others speaks of the grace that I am given by my Savior and God. 

Therefore if the Son makes you free, you shall be free indeed. (‭John‬ ‭8‬:‭36‬ NKJV) 

I’ll also, go ahead and leave my other wild boy here with his bed-head lol! I just love his wild hair!!!!!

I know all the birds of the mountains, And the wild beasts of the field are Mine. (‭Psalms‬ ‭50‬:‭11‬ NKJV)

 

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Sorrow and perspective

3 times my heart has been so completely shattered that I can’t see any possibility of it being mended. The pieces can’t possibly be put back together. But because I’ve kept breathing I know I’ll keep breathing and keep going still.
How is it possible to have your heart this broken and still keep living?
I thought I was having a bad day. I thought I was having a bad week! It’s been over a week since my husband or I got any decent sleep. Between that and a nasty previous client (whom I hadn’t had any contact with because she was, until recently, happy with the work done and I’d fulfilled my contract and then some to her) suddenly showed back up by messaging me multiple nasty and hurtful messages on fb, the kids were bickering and made an even bigger mess than usual, then my 2.5 year old got sick and coughed nonstop through the night and didn’t sleep, took him to the urgent care today and it was as if he’d slept perfectly and he was running on the ceiling, I was drenched in sweat and got no answers from the dr but I did get a ton of exasperation. It just seemed to be on thing after another and I was just done. I cried a bit on the way home from the urgent care and cried some more once we got home. So tired and frustrated with my kid.
Then I got a call. It was like being sucker punched by perspective. Every little thing I’d been frustrated and upset about faded and turned into a ray of sunshine. A friend’s baby boy had died.
Not just any baby boy. He was about 8 months old and a twin. I had just commented on the sweet video that his mama had posted of him saying “mama”. I had just like the video of him and his brother giggling together. I’d just liked the picture of him being silly and wanting to eat again after he’d just ate only because his brother was eating. Just like that, he is gone.
I couldn’t say anything but “no” over and over and over again. I began to hope that she was wrong and had been misinformed. After hanging up I went to my knees and didn’t get up for at least an hour. I begged and pleaded with God to please breathe life back into this sweet baby boy. To let him live a long happy life here on earth. I apologized for not being thankful for my children at all times and bargained saying I would now but please bring him back.
After 3 hours of crying and holding my babies as much as they’d let me, I actively began to try to stop. It’s been 5 hours now and I’m still crying off and on.
I don’t understand. My pleading of “no” has transformed to “I don’t understand”. It’s taken me back to the day that I got the call that my sweet little cousin whom we’d searched for and posted missing flyers had been found , he’d shot himself and committed suicide. It took me back to when I, and many others, believed and prayed for my incredibly amazing mother in-law would be completely healed from cancer and the morning I was woken by my father in-law because she had passed. It took me back to the moment when I heard sweet baby Knox had left this world after only a few short days of life here.
I don’t understand. I don’t see His plan in this. I am so blinded by the pain and sorrow of loss. The thought of “what would it take for me to stop believing” crosses my mind as things like this make me question His will. I want my will to be His so desperately.
This is where I will stand. I will stand in the knowledge that Your will is perfect and far greater than mine. I will stand in the knowledge that you know the end of it all as well as the beginning and I could never fathom the inner workings of You oh God. I stand in faith that You heal the broken hearted and make all things great. I stand knowing that You are counting my tears and will bring joy for every one.
I stand in those things because He gives me strength when I do. He gives me strength to keep going when I want to quit. He whispers “know that I am God” and gently reminds me of how much greater and better He loves each and every one of us. I stand in those things because when I fall it is always Him that picks me up again.
The things I stand in are the only things I truly know and understand. He is great. When I need a reminder I look at the heavens and how perfect they were made. How constant but ever changing. When I look to people around me I no longer understand. But when I look at the things He made without the sin that distorts it all, I breathe in deep with understanding.
To console those who mourn in Zion, To give them beauty for ashes, The oil of joy for mourning, The garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; That they may be called trees of righteousness, The planting of the LORD, that He may be glorified.” (‭Isaiah‬ ‭61‬:‭3‬ NKJV)

I’ll bring the principal out then!

Today I learned something very valuable. I am no longer afraid of the principal. Hahahaha!!!!! YOU HAVE NO POWER HERE!!!!!!! Lol!
Dropping my 5 year old off at school today I was getting out to get my son all set to head on his way when this irate, stomping, fuming, woman comes up to me and starts yelling at me telling me I was in a busses only zone. I’m not a genius or anything but I consider myself to have at least enough brain cells left to distinguish a busses only zone so I explained to her (and pointed out) that the painted letters on the ground said “Drop Off Zone”, and there was a fixed and permanent sign saying “Please stay with your vehicle (NOT bus) when dropping off students”, and many other ways that I’d been told that I could in fact drop my child off in the exact location that I was dropping him off in. She huffed and puffed and told me “Well I’ll get the principal then!” And I responded with “Go ahead.” She stomped away and I hugged and kissed my son goodbye, climbed back into the driver’s seat and watched for about 10 seconds to make sure my son went where he was supposed to and then pulled out and drove around to park and wait for the principal. She climbed into her bus and drove away.
Wanting to get clarification on this since she was so irate and demanding and sure of herself, I locked my children in the running vehicle and went inside and spoke with one of the crossing guard ladies (she was very sweet but didn’t know that there was any bus zone out front, it’s a walk only school but some special needs students take the bus.) So I asked the front desk lady. She explained to me that the buses aren’t to arrive until 8:15 (I always drop my son off before then) and they put a little folding sign that says “buses only” out to notify people. I have never been there (until today) after 8:15, so I had never seen the sign. In the end we were both right and it’s all fine and dandy… except I haven’t explained this to her.
I plan on writing her a little note (or just talking to her, if it’s safe) and taking her a cookie (her blood sugar must have been very low I’m sure) and explaining to her what the front desk people told me. (Also, the special needs classes aren’t always in session so they won’t always have the buses only zone from 8:15-8:30 even)
When she approached me in her angry and rude manner I reacted with a snotty tone and was pissed that she come at me like that. 8am is way too early to deal with any bull… own-y… especially, ESPECIALLY from strangers. I was left wondering what made her think she could speak to strangers in that manner. I wondered at what kind of angry and bitter person she must be to approach anyone in the way she did.
Then! I picked my son up. I was early enough so I could get the sweet spot in the drop off zone (no buses at pick up time), and parked right before the crosswalk. More cars pulled up and one parked just on the other side of the crosswalk and we both (cause we have brains in our heads) left the crosswalk open for it to be used as it was intended. Then this lady pulls up in her PT cruiser (bright blue with flames) and parks ON THE CROSSWALK, across from an open parking space. She gets out of her car and pulls her (I’m guessing granddaughter) out of the back and locks her car and takes the little girl to play. My thought was, hmm maybe the bus driver lady has seen too much of this? My son is let out and I get him situated in the car and go to leave and there’s a large white truck (ford f-250) parked NEXT TO THE FLAMING PT CRUISER!!!!!! ON THE SIDEWALK!!!! Blocking anyone from leaving. I sat there dumbfounded. This is what the poor woman sees.
If you are one of these people who do this, please smack yourself upside the head. You and your children are not so important that you can break the law, double park, and block everyone from safely crossing to the parking lot or actually leaving the parking lot. The lady that climbed into the truck at least had the decency to give her husband/boyfriend/whateverman driving the truck a dirty look and she gave an “I’m so sorry” look to everyone else.
I get it bus driver lady. I get it. You thought I was one of these ignorant morons that just do whatever pleases me. I’m not. Please don’t show up at the school 10 minutes early and expect everyone to accommodate you as you stay parked in the DROP OFF ZONE for 20 minutes. Be kind. Be polite. The person you spoke with is a STRANGER. You had no clue how I would react. Be glad I’m on JUST this side of crazy and didn’t match you anger for anger. I get that you see too many idiots daily but that’s life. Laugh and shake your head at their stupidity. Otherwise you’re going to stomp your way into looking like an angry bull.
Let’s not make drop offs and pick ups anymore of a pain in the arse than they already are eh?
Love, grace, and joyful mornings to you all!!!

Kicking and Screaming

That’s how I reacted when I found out I was pregnant. I was terrified. But our first boy was so easy until about 2.5-3.
We have now entered that stage with our second son and I’m having an EXTREMELY hard time with it. This kid screams and cries and kicks ALL THE TIME!!!!!!!!!!!!! You tell him “no”, he can’t kick and shove his 1 yr old sister away from mama and he screams and flails and throws a fit. He asks you a question “where’s dada?” And you answer him “He’s at work” and he screams “NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!” And proceeds to throw a tantrum.
Nothing works with him. I whisper “Stop. Shhhhh. No more fit.” And he keeps screaming. I hold him and hug him, and he screams in my ear. After about half an hour I have been known to lose it and yell back. Many times I have ended up in tears with him.
I have PTSD from this and any time I move or cough I twitch and my stomach lurches because it might set him off.
He has been tested and is doing fine. Supposedly, this is NORMAL. Well, is using duct tape during the stage “normal” cause it should be.
What makes it really difficult is, when it’s all over and I want to be as far away from him as possible, he wants to hug and hold me and give me kisses. Seriously. Or sometimes, he’ll stick out his bottom lip so far (this one has some plump lips as it is and this, this just takes the cake) and look up at me with his big beautiful blue eyes and be so freaking adorable I’ll think “he’ll fool anyone into thinking he’s perfect and sweet when he’s actually a terror.” It’s a very good thing he’s so cute or I don’t know if I’d even like the kid at all. (Though his cuteness factor may be a bias, I’m pretty sure God knew how much this kid would make me want to throw myself from a moving vehicle.)
He’s got perfect little ringlets in his soft brown hair that easily turn wild and a bit ratted dread lock like. These don’t help me. Round, apple cheeks, that are so soft and sweet. As previously stated, big blue eyes, that are surrounded by eyelashes for days. Lips that are like two short fat gummy worms and as sweet too when he puckers them up for a kiss. All combine to make the perfect weapon. The look of sweet innocence. Almost fictional cuteness. And then… WHAM!!!! A yell that tears your hair right off your head. A scream that makes your mind run away. Kicks that put bass drums to shame for shaking and vibrating an entire house.
I had never known stress until this stage. I have never been reduced to tears and laying lifelessly so much. It sucks every ounce of life, joy, peace, anything good or decent, out of me. I think a steamroller would leave more of me behind.
I look at the future and see this long dark tunnel of screaming. Like the hall of a haunted house. Actually, that describes it perfectly. The hall of a haunted house, because even if nothing is happening you still have that sick feeling and are ready to jump sky high. The anxiety shoots through the roof.
Then, suddenly the clouds clear and he’s hugging me and pressing his cheek to my own cheek, neck or chest as he holds on tightly, hoping to have a sign that I still love him. He snuggles in and is ready to stay there. But then, his sister needs attention or his brother does and it starts all over again. He may have been meant to be an only child. Definitely not meant for a middle child but here we are.
The bright side is, he has worn me down to not worry about WHY my kid is screaming because the odds are, there’s absolutely no sense to why and nothing wrong with the kid either. So… yay for that.
I hope you enjoy this little dose of birth control. If you’re sad about not having children, please don’t judge me for having a hard time HAVING children. I do that enough for everyone. But DO feel free to come on over and listen to the screaming, I’ve had at least one friend who was having conception problems say “ohhh I’m SOOOO glad I don’t have kids!” So we can help with that.

I will tell her she’s beautiful.

I recently have been seeing posts about how we are no longer to comment or tell our daughters they’re pretty or beautiful, that we should only comment on their minds. Supposedly, by telling them this it will make them believe that their worth is in their physical appearance only. We definitely don’t want our children (sons OR daughters) to believe their worth is solely in their physical appearance that’s for certain.
I also read, this was quite sometime ago (I wish I could remember where cause it’s one of the best things I’ve read to date, if you happen to be reading this and know where I read this, possibly Power of a Praying Parent, please let me know in the comments), that every day we send our kids out into the world and they are covered with “post-it” notes of affirmation that we have posted on them. With every negative comment toward them a post-it note is removed and soon they can be left with nothing covering them. They will be bombarded with negativity, criticism, and picked away at by words that are tossed carelessly. Remembering the rough times so clearly from my childhood I tend to agree with this line of thinking.
As a result of both of these I have decided, I will tell my daughter she is beautiful. I will tell her she’s beautiful as often as I can. I will tell her this because she is. Outside and inside she is the prettiest girl I’ve ever met or seen. She may be only one but she has more personality and determination than many adults I’ve ever met (I’m POSITIVE that I will be LOVING this determination as she gets older HAAAA!!!!). She even, seemingly, sets goals and works to achieve them. She inspires me in this.
That may be the weirdest thing you’ve ever heard and you’re probably sitting there going ‘SERIOUSLY? She’s OOONNNNE!’ Lol! But, seriously! Like with walking. She suddenly decided she wants to walk, she takes time and does squats and works (on her own, not towards anything in particular) to take steps every single day now. Ever since that one day she discovered that walking is a possibility. I know I sound like a total nut job and an overly proud mom but, she’s my third child and after watching how my boys learned to walk, she’s different, the boys seemed to do this without any thought. It was a wind and release and off they went banging into things and knocking their heads around as they went. With my girl, it’s more purposeful. She concentrates and has a focus that my boys didn’t have. Of course as I’m writing this she comes over to me and is trying to eat the paper off of a water bottle, I took it off the bottle and she weaseled it back and tried unsuccessfully to put it back on the bottle only to eat it again. She is one after all.
Anyways! I will tell her she’s beautiful and pretty because I don’t believe it’s anything more than a mindset. It is a confidence you carry and a way that you love on people. It’s a joy that shines through you that can’t be snuffed out. That is what beauty is. Whether everyone states that or not, in the end that is what it is.
I experienced this in my short life already. Until my early to mid twenties I was skinny and a pretty girl. I modeled and was often told I was pretty and hit on often by boys and men that were generally not the kind of male that ANY mom or dad would want for their daughter. I felt ugly though. I thought I was fat (even when my hip bones stuck out at least an inch!) and went to drastic measures to lose weight, thankfully I did a few research reports on bulimia and anorexia so I knew what TO do and what NOT to do. I had horrible self esteem. After I began my relationship with Christ I stopped terrorizing myself and began to just bask in His love and the joy He filled me with. Suddenly, I was 18 and happy with everything. My life, my body, it was all wonderful!
I married young at only 19(!!!) and became even more settled and content and happy. Between the destruction that I’d caused my body and food allergies/intolerances, I began to gain weight. I gained a hundred pounds, (my chiropractor later told me I didn’t need to be as low of a weight as I had been because my bones weren’t made for that weight, now that was nice to hear! Less to lose!) but I was happier and filled with more confidence than ever and guess what?! Suddenly I was being hit on by very good looking men, I swear I’m not bragging I’m being for real here, I worked at a gym and regularly saw guys who could be models and suddenly they were flirting with me. With ME!!! Some were still the kind that no parent would want near their kid but many were great guys. I was amazed! I looked back and reminisced over photos of when I was skinny and couldn’t figure it out until one night hanging out with friends. My husband and I hung out with a group of married friends and we were always very blunt and honest with each other. While playing games one night a male friend came out and said (I don’t even remember how we got on the topic) that of course guys were attracted to me “you’re pretty, and always so happy”. Well, I sure couldn’t take the credit for my joy. It was a God given gift that filled me every moment I spent in his presence.
After that I began to take notice of how my every day choice of spending time with God and worshipping Him made a difference in my physical and emotional appearance. Talk about incentive! Plus! Think about this: have you ever seen someone and gone “Whoa! They’re HOT!” and then you talk with them and suddenly they’re not so good looking after all? Then, the more you get to know them the more ugly they become and suddenly you’re shocked you ever found them even remotely attractive? They go from GQ David Beckham to one of those hairless dogs (something crusty terrier) with serious teeth problems. Or, not been attracted to someone physically even a little and you become friends with them and suddenly they’re the best looking person you know? That! It’s that!! That’s exactly what I’m talking about.
So, my conclusion is this: kids get picked on, torn down, bullied, and badly criticized, every single day. It’s up to us, the ones who love them and see all their best and their worst, to build them up and create a covering of post-its that can leave them bare. We need to tell them they’re beautiful or handsome, as well as telling them of their sweetness and intelligence. It is not one single attribute that makes someone beautiful, it’s certainly not only physical appearance. IMG_1634.JPGIMG_1637.JPG

Hey mama. Hey Daddy.

Since before I became I mom, which was about 5 years ago, I have seen books/articles/classes/billboards- you name it, telling people what they’re doing wrong in parenting and how they NEED to do THIS (fill in the blank).
I’ve only been a mom a short time now and I have to say- ding fries are DONE! I’ll read one blog or w/e saying “do this or your child will be scarred for life” on Monday and then Tuesday I’ll read anther article (sometimes written by the same person) telling me “NO! Don’t EVER do that!!! Only do that if you hate your child and wish them the infestation of the fleas on a thousand camels.” It’s exhausting.
Since joining the mom-pool I have become a tennis ball in this game of life. I am bounced back and forth with what to feed my kids, what they should be wearing, what they should be doing, what they should be ACK WHATEVER!!!
When my firstborn was just 6 months old my husband and I ran into a couple that we knew through some friends of ours. They had a child (I believe it was a boy) that was the same age. They immediately asked (after discovering our children were the same age) what we were doing with our son. When I looked at them confused and said “ummm what?”, the mom jumped in and in one breath told me how they already had their kid in about 5 different things including swimming and soccer and sky diving. Ok, sky diving wasn’t one but I swear soccer was. Suddenly I felt inept and a complete failure because I didn’t have my baby in any classes.
Why do so many feel the need to tell us what we NEED to DOOOOOOO?!?!
We get our parent card and suddenly we must parent EVERYONE! We are all knowing and must make sure everyone does what we say they should.
Well, here’s this one more blog to tell you what to do.
Keep doing what you’re doing. You’re doing your darnedest (that’s right, I went there.) and you’re doing a great job! I myself admire every parent I see every day (except the ones the other day that completely ignored their kid as he threw bark at every other child on the playground, you guys are lame lol!). I admire you all because you’re in this. I’ve worked for LAWYERS(!!!) and this is WAY harder.
So, mom, dad, great job! Keep up the great work!!! I am in awe of you.
Please enjoy this creepy sweaty picture of me that I took after taking my three kids (5, 2, and 11 months) to a splash park for an hour and then to rush home to change poopies and get them down for naps.