Say It Enough, You'll Start to Believe It
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My brother and I at a costume party circa 1995
Come back tomorrow for a little chat about parenting – USA vs. FRANCE.
OOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHH….
And next week is the final week I can claim to be in my early thirties. I have some plans on how to write my way into my mid-thirties. It’s better than drinking my way there, right?
We had a family movie night last night. When I announced it, the kids were all, “Really?! But it’s a school night!” I know, kids. I know. Why don’t we just play hooky? Let’s just call it a day and finish school now, whatcha think?
I didn’t say that, but I cannot deny thinking it.
My children don’t get out of school until June 7th, which seems like a conspiracy of torture to me. I’m over everything about school and it shows. When the kids get home in the afternoon, our normal routine is a quick snack, then dive straight into homework before any playing.
Our current routine is come home, jump in the pool, play all afternoon and if you get to your homework and reading, yay! Bonus.
We are crawling to the finish line over here.
Every single morning, as I wake Tia up, she rolls over and blinks hard through sleepy, crusty eyes. “Mommy, can’t I skip school just this once?” she cries (sometimes sobs). Friends, I feel like I deserve a medal for not saying YES! Skip it. Let’s stay in bed in our jammies and watch movies all day. Screw school! POWER TO THE PEOPLE!!!
I don’t say any of those things. I put on my Motivating Mom Hat and say super inspiring things like, “Finish strong, honey!” And “Can you taste the victory of your accomplishment?” And “12 More Days – Isn’t It EXCITING?!”
Then I drag her out of bed and force her into clothing. There is some hand clapping involved most mornings. Nature of the beast and all.
This morning the power tripped at 5:00 am, which means our alarm went off, which is honestly the rudest way one could possible be woken up.
(Actually, if you were to talk with my brother, you’d probably find that he has a story of an even ruder awakening. I may, or may not, have woken him up several times as a teenager by standing over his bed and letting loose a blood curdling scream. The memory of the look on his face as he thrashed around on his bed in utter terror gives me unending and eternal glee.)
Anyway, the alarm went off this morning at 5. Mercifully it did not wake up the kids and I was able to doze in and out of sleep. But when 6:30 rolled around, I could not get my brain to communicate to my extremities that it was time to get up. My brain kept sending them messages and my body was like, “Can’t we skip school just this once?”
Then I told myself to shut up…
12 more days until I can burn the agendas and the reading logs and…well, I probably shouldn’t burn the uniforms since we’ll need them again, but everything else is fair game! I have plans for the summer to keep the kids reading (plans that include paying them – incentive? bribery? Either way, I’m hoping it will motivate) and I have workbooks lined up for math and writing and Russian. But there will be no set agenda.
And there will be strictly enforced rules not to wake me up before 7:00 on any given morning lest they should face the wrath of schedule-free, summertime Mommy. Amen?
So show of hands – how many of you are already finished with school?
I am writing and editing and pitching and querying and editing and writing and reading and pitching.
I believe in this book.
I believe it has great potential.
I believe it needs work.
I believe it’s pretty dang good.
I believe it will be published.
It’s overwhelming, all the work that goes into making a dream come true.
But in the end….
Don’t you just want to reach right into the screen and pluck that gorgeous flower?
Jenni and her family are continuing on their year long journey around the United States.
Her pictures are inspired, but even more inspiring?
Do you have a dream you’re chasing?
I knew my boy would be athletic when he was around eight months old. We were at one of his older brother’s soccer games and I sat his plump little behind in the grass. He couldn’t move yet, so he simply screamed and reached his arms out toward an extra soccer ball lying a little ways down the field. I quickly grabbed it and rolled it toward him and for the entire 40 minute game he giggled and cackled and grinned as he batted the ball back and forth.
He’s five now and he is no longer a fat little baby. In fact, I sometimes wonder how it is his twiggy bird legs manage to hold him up all day long. But one thing has not changed – the boy loves sports.
While most kids his age are into Disney Jr. and CARS, my boy lives, eats and breathes baseball, basketball and…really, anything with a ball. The only station he knows how to find on TV is ESPN and there are some mornings when I walk out and find him engrossed in the highlight reel.
I am then forced to drink my coffee while listening to the run down on which teams are doing well and which teams are “being crushed.”
Not long ago Landon came running into the bathroom as I dried my hair.
“Mom!” he yelled over the noise. “Where are toofbrushes made?”
“What?” I yelled back.
“Where do the toofbrush makers make the toofbrushes?”
“Why don’t you ask Dad, buddy,” I called back. “I’m busy.”
He spun on his heel and rushed into the bedroom where Lee was changing. I couldn’t hear the conversation over the hairdryer, but seconds later Landon came tearing back into the bathroom.
“THEY’RE MADE OFF THE COAST OF MADAGASCAR!” he screeched. “TOOFBRUSHES ARE MADE OFF THE COAST OF MADAGASCAR!”
And then he disappeared as Lee collapsed in hysterical laughter. Score one for Dad.
Not long after that, I stood in the kitchen preparing dinner as Lee and the kids sat on the back porch.
“Daddy?” Tia asked, her voice all sugary and sweet. “How did you learn to pop your pecs?”
It could have been worse. She could have asked him how he learned to “wiggle his nipples,” which is what she and Landon said for a long time before we finally put a stop to it. It’s cute and funny in the comfort of your own home. Crying out “Wiggle your nipples, Dad,” in the cereal aisle of the grocery store, however, is embarrassing and slightly inappropriate…
One of Lee’s better parenting tactics does indeed involve popping his pecs when things get tense or dicey around here. If arguments break out, he does a little pop here and there and suddenly everyone is laughing hysterically. Brilliant…
So they sat on the back porch and Tia wanted to know how he did it because for her life, she cannot make her pecs pop.
“Well, baby,” Lee answered, “I actually went to a special college to learn. It’s not something you should ever try unless you’ve been properly trained. There’s a special technique that you have to learn and it could be quite dangerous to try without being taught. That’s why I made sure I got a degree from the Pec Popping Institute of America.”
Do the dads in your life give brilliant, if slightly skewed, explanations for some of the workings of life?
When I read the guilty verdict for Philadelphia “doctor” Kermit Gosnell, I felt an overwhelming satisfaction followed immediately by sadness. The stories surrounding this man have been sickening and wretched, so horrific in nature that reading an article about his practices caused a visceral reaction of rage and sorrow.
You want to know the measure of a monster? Look no further than Kermit Gosnell.
There has been a lot of online chatter about the silence of the mainstream media during the Gosnell trial. If a reporter’s mantra is “If it bleeds, it leads,” then why weren’t they covering this story?
There are a couple of reasons why I think the mainstream media ignored this story. First, as Kristen Howerton points out, this story wasn’t new. Gosnell was first arrested in 2011 and the news of his arrest broke then on most major news stations then. So technically, in the world of broadcast journalism, this could have been deemed old news and old news is no news, right?
I don’t agree, but I see the argument.
I think a larger part of the reason this story was largely ignored is because it cannot be covered without addressing the pressing inconsistencies in the defense of abortion.
No one, including the staunchest of abortion supporters, will deny that Kermit Gosnell’s practices were ugly, brutal, terrifying and wickedly wrong. Even Planned Parenthood, one of the largest performers of abortion in the country, issued a statement celebrating Gosnell’s guilty verdict.
But why? What is it about Gosnell’s practices that differentiate him from other doctors who perform abortions? Why were those three infants considered more valuable than the thousands of children that are aborted in utero?
Is it because the three infants that he was convicted of murdering actually breathed oxygen on their own rather than being supplied oxygen through their mother’s placenta? Is that all that sets them apart? There is a serious problem with that logic, because if we deem someone who doesn’t breathe oxygen on their own as incompatible with life, then what about the countless people who are on a ventilator?
I speak of this topic frankly, but please hear my heart. If you are a woman who has chosen abortion in the past, I hold no judgement in my heart for the decision that you made. I cannot imagine the fear and pain that accompanies the decision to have an abortion and I offer nothing but a deep felt sympathy for the experience you may have had.
That said, this topic cannot be laid to rest and we need to continue to educate and fight not for a woman’s right to choose, but for a child’s right to live. Pope John Paul II once said that “a society will be judged on the basis of how it treats its weakest members; and among the most vulnerable are surely the unborn and the dying.”
Gosnell’s conviction is good because it defends the weakest – infants whose spines were snipped with scissors and who died slowly and painfully in the hands of a monster. My heart aches for the mothers whose lives will forever be haunted by the practices of Kermit Gosnell – women who thought they had no other option and who were led astray by a wicked, evil man.
I am a believer in a woman’s right to choose, however, I believe that we need more education so that a woman will choose life rather than choosing abortion. There are so many studies on the emotional and physical effects of abortion. We cannot believe that such a choice will be free of lasting consequences. Women must have a better understanding of these long term psychological effects.
There is no more vulnerable among us than the unborn. We can try to separate the consequences of abortion by labeling a child in utero a “fetus,” but it does not change the scientific nature of the little lives lost. The only thing that separates an infant in utero from an infant outside the womb is the ability to breathe oxygen unassisted. Even at ten weeks in utero, all a child’s bodily functions are developed. Could the child survive outside the womb? No. But that cannot be a justification.
This topic is so difficult and for some of you it stirs up painful memories and emotions. I do not for a second think that choosing abortion was easy or comfortable and I’m so sorry for those of you who must live with the pain of that choice. My heart physically aches at the thought.
But we cannot give up or ignore this topic because the most vulnerable of our society are at stake. While Kermit Gosnell’s practices were sick and awful, the outcome of what he accomplished is no different from those who perform abortions in utero. We need to talk about this and we need to be quick to offer pregnant women who feel trapped in their circumstances different options.
Because I believe in the right for a woman to choose – I just believe that she, and her unborn child, will be better off in the long run if she chooses life.
“All our dreams can come true, if we have the courage to pursue them.” Walt Disney
We are home from a magical, fantastical, exhaustical weekend. My pile of laundry rivals Mt. Everest and my head is full of ideas and thoughts as I try to process all I saw and heard. It was truly, truly an honor to be invited to this year’s celebration. It wasn’t anything like what I expected.
I don’t really know what I was expecting, honestly. But this exceeded whatever it was I thought I was going to experience. I learned a lot about business, entrepreneurship, blogging and Disney. From beginning to end, I thoroughly enjoyed the experience.
As a disclaimer, I will tell you that I was invited to attend the Disney Social Media Moms Celebration. As an invitee I received a discounted rate on my hotel room, some lovely swag (that’s a fun word to say, isn’t it? Especially when it’s prefaced with the words, “Here’s Your…”), amazing once in a lifetime experiences and 7 Day Park Hopper Passes for myself and all those who were registered to attend with me.
There – now that I made the FTC happy, I will show you pictures. And while you browse, I will begin to tackle my laundry. It’s too bad Disney couldn’t have hooked me up with a couple of magic fairies to take care of these menial tasks for me…Where’s Tinkerbell when you need her?!
Front and center to watch as Merida is officially made a Princess.
Gold Medalist Gabby Douglas was there to help with the coronation. Tia (and I) were so excited by this surprise.
How adorable is this? This was right after Merida was crowned the newest Disney Princess. I mean, seriously…Girl heaven.
All the princesses together.
Even “Jessie” was on hand for the coronation. Um…is it just because I’m a mom, or does it seem like she’s wearing too much make up? I sound like an old lady, don’t I…Carry on.
Friday night we were treated to dinner on the set of Lights, Motors, Action! We got a little up close glimpse of a stunt man doing his thang…
We met the ever charming Minnie Mouse (as well as her husband, Mickey. *wink*)
One of the joys of the conference was seeing Tia’s face light up when we’d return to our room at night and find surprises left by the Disney elves. The night before Merida’s coronation we received a huge bag full of Merida goodies including this doll and wig. The hair kills me. It’s as though Little Orphan Annie and Cher had a love child…
I’m gonna wreck it!
The boys, unfortunately, could not come over until Saturday night due to baseball, so my mom joined us for the first couple of days. It was so sweet to have this time with her on Mother’s Day weekend.
It wouldn’t be a Disney weekend without a little Star Wars involved. R2D2 also made an appearance.
Me with the adorable (and super savvy) Shannon Miller. I can neither confirm, nor deny, chasing her down to get this picture…
Honestly, I never thought I would be one to enjoy Disney World so much. The crowds, the heat, the insane overstimulation…
But if you do it right, Disey really can be a magical place to build memories. And let’s face it, unless you’re a robot (or perhaps a male), you’re bound to get a little nostalgic and goose-bumpy when you look up at the Castle and hear Jimmeny Cricket urging you to wish upon a star.
That doesn’t move you? How about the song Baby Mine as images of Dumbo being rocked by his Mama float by?
No? What about Cinderella singing A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes as she gazes out the window at the castle?
Surely one of those things brings just a small sigh of sweet nostalgia to your heart.
Walt Disney may have been one of the greatest visionaries and imaginators (let’s say that’s a word for now, okay?) of all time. He believed in dreams and magic and his legacy still lives on in the form of both of those. Let us never stop dreaming.
(I also hope it includes less laundry than my day.)
We knew early on that Tia had a knack for gymnastics. Remember when I walked outside and found her like this at three years old?
Shortly after taking this photo, we signed her up for her first gymnastics class. Within a year she was selected for a special developmental team and we slowly tip-toed our way into competitive gymnastics.
This has been one of our tougher parenting decisions, honestly. It’s been hard to know how much to allow, how much to push, how much of her time to commit to a sport that she likely won’t be able to stick with long term. We held her back for a long time, not pushing or allowing her to move too quickly for fear it would be too much.
This year it finally came to the point where moving her up in the sport was inevitable. We either needed to make the commitment or pull her from the sport and guide her in a different direction.
We decided to say yes.
Tia is currently training three days a week for a total of 11.5 hours. It’s a big commitment for a seven year old and it isn’t one we made lightly. I still have worries and concerns about the time it’s taking, and yet…
She really loves the sport. She loves the challenge of it and the thrill of getting a new skill. She thinks the beam is fun, which is just crazy talk if you ask me. And she runs so hard down the vault runway that she scares everyone but herself.
There are times when I drop her off for one of the four hour practices that I wonder why on Earth we are doing this. Is it foolish? Should she be at home with her family? Are we stealing her childhood? Will this affect her relationship with her brothers?
Then I laugh and shake my head. I think the time apart improves her relationship with her brothers. Also, we live in an amazing neighborhood full of kids, half of which spend most of their afternoons playing in my backyard.
All of them are boys.
There aren’t a lot of little girls running around our neck of the woods beach, so gymnastics is, for Tia, a crucial time of socialization and girl time. It’s where she’s learning all those cute little girl chants and clapping games that every single girl has played since the beginning of ever.
Gymnastics is not only making her stronger and more confident – it’s also giving her the perfect outlet to be a silly little girl and I really love that for her…even if the sassy hip pop makes me want to roll my eyes.
I have no idea how long she will want to stick with this sport. The time commitment is so intense and it makes for some really long days. But in the long run, we finally decided that whether she does it for a year or five, these hours in the gym won’t be wasted. She can take the skills, both physical and mental, that she’s learning on the blue mats and apply them to any other sport and experience in life.
Parenting is so hard. We are given these children for a short time and we begin to recognize talents and gifts and suddenly the pressure to develop those gifts, to point them in the direction that will best suit them, gets all heavy and freaky and you find yourself wondering if you’re really helping them or if you are forever screwing them up.
Then you breathe in. You watch a beautiful vault, hear the crack of the bat, scream as the ball soars into the net, shriek when he runs the ball in for a touch down, and you breathe out again.
And when she walks out of the gym and collapses in a heap of tears because the workout was so hard that night, you wipe her tears and tell her to stick with it, because you know it’s important to fight through the pain.
You also know that the day will come when she’ll turn and look at you, holding a ribbon high with a joyous grin plastered across her face and in return you’ll give a huge thumbs up and clap louder than anyone else at the accomplishment.
What about you? Have you made big extracurricular commitments with your kids? How did you make the decision to commit your child’s time to a single activity?
I have a confession to make. When my mom called and told us last fall that she and dad wanted to take us all to Disney World as our Christmas gift, I wasn’t all that excited. It had been a long, long time since I’d been to Disney and honestly, the thought of navigating the parks with the kids sounded more hellish than magical.
Of course, we agreed to go because it was an awesome gift and because I wanted my kids to experience Disney at least once in their lifetimes. I figured it would be a little like ripping off a BandAid – get it over with quick and we would never have to do it again.
In my mind, I was sadly (and very mistakenly) comparing Disney to Six Flags in St. Louis. Dirty, sticky, hot, crowded, congested and in general not very enjoyable. I forgotten just how magical Disney makes the experience.
After our Christmas visit (and my parents double blessed us with season passes), I realized how truly amazing an experience Disney can be when it’s done right. We went when the weather was nice, during the holidays and on a weekend that wasn’t overly crowded and it was such an amazing trip for all of us.
We’ve since been to Disney three more times and I can honestly say that I love it every single time. I don’t think I will ever get tired of walking into the Magic Kingdom and seeing the Castle, especially at night when it’s all lit up. It really is…magical.
I am incredibly honored and humbled to have been invited by Disney to join them at this year’s annual Disney Social Media Moms Celebration. I leave Thursday for another long weekend of Disney magic and I keep wondering how on Earth I could have ever dreaded spending time at Walt Disney World.
Unfortunately, this is the final weekend of baseball for the boys, so they won’t get to join us until Saturday, but Tia will be with me for the weekend as well as my mom, which will be a sweet little girl’s weekend away.
While I am excited to see the castle again and to experience Disney magic up close and personal, I am even more thrilled about the conference portion of the weekend. There will be amazing speakers, opportunities for networking with some of the top bloggers in the country and from what I hear, there will be some amazing parties to enjoy.
And food. People keep mentioning food. I like food. I really like it a lot…
One year ago, right at this time, I was in Tanzania being changed radically from the inside. That trip set off the series of events that led us to where we are today. It’s not where we thought we’d be and the disappointment is still raw and real, but in the last few months, the Lord has constantly reminded me that the is still Hope.
It’s slow, of course, but it’s there. I’m grateful for the friends I made in Tanzania who were there as God began to work His plan. Many of them will be there this weekend and I’m so looking forward to touching base again.
I wish I could take all of you with me as I experience the magic of Disney this weekend. I’ll do my best to give you a glimpse of it all here. I’ll also try to eat a Mickey treat in your honor.
It’s a sacrifice, but it’s one I’m willing to make for you all.
I distinctly remember leaving the hospital with Sloan and as the nurse wheeled me out, she patted me gently on the shoulder and said, “Good luck, honey and enjoy it. Motherhood is a thrill, but exhausting. You won’t sleep well again for the next 20 years.”
She then packed me into the car and waved with a bright smile as Lee and I pulled out of the parking lot, our eyes saucer-wide. I looked back at the sleeping baby in the back seat and thought, “Whatever. All those books I read said he should be on a sleep schedule within 8 weeks. Two months and we’ll be sleeping all night again.”
No, it’s fine. You can laugh. Go ahead, I’ll wait…
I have been at this motherhood thing for almost a decade now and I can say with certainty I haven’t gone a single month in the last 118 months where I have been permitted to sleep well every night. People…I am exhausted. E-X-HAUSTED!
I mean, it’s awesome. Don’t get me wrong. If we’re being honest, you should know that I was never a great sleeper to begin with. There are stories that my parents like to tell of me not sleeping at all when I was a baby. Oddly enough, they tell these stories with a tiny bit of glee whenever I mention the kids keeping me up all night….
Between bed wetting, nightmares, random fevers, falling out of bed, the dog barking at phantom shadows, the power tripping which sets off the alarm (C’MON!!!!) and down the list it goes, I am exhausted. Right now, I don’t want a month of uninterrupted sleep – I just want one week. Just a week!
Heck – I’d settle for a Saturday morning where I got to sleep until 8:00.
Or…you know what? I’ll just take another cup of coffee. It’s the best I can do for, well at least for the next 15 years, right?
While I sip my Cup ‘O Joe, you can enjoy these pictures. They make the sleepless nights totally mostly worth it. (You’ll notice Landon is missing from all these shots. He is the one with the fever who woke me up at 4:30. Tia is the one who fell out of bed. I’m going to need two more cups of coffee.)
*wink*
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