Today I am thankful for
    A baby that sleeps through the morning chatter.
        Morning chatter.
    Bathroom hand towels rakishly askew.
        A little boy with things to do and scant time for neatness.

Today I am thankful for
    Room on a bed for fifteen stuffed friends piled high
            ~ guardians against monsters and other scary things ~
        and the growing little girl underneath it all.
            Also, a home with no monsters.

Today I am thankful for
    A man of fierce commitment.
        A love that is steady.
            Strong arms and character.
        Blue eyes and 11 years of weak knees.

But mostly
    this Thanksgiving
        I am thankful for outstanding friends
    who are doing all the work.

Hmm…

If you happen to sponsor a child through Compassion International then you’ve probably already seen this video.  If you don’t (and why not?) then please take 11 minutes to reflect on all the good that can come from being unfair.

Why are these three words so difficult to utter?  Today I stumbled upon this short quip that got me to thinking.

A little boy was having difficulty lifting a heavy stone. His father came along just then. Noting the boy’s failure, he asked, “Are you using all your strength?”

“Yes, I am,” the little boy said impatiently.

“No, you are not,” the father answered. “I am right here just waiting, and you haven’t asked me to help you.”

Author Unknown

I am like this.  Most of us are.  Why is that?

Remember that slogan.   It implied that technology could bring us closer together.  That it would close the gap between far away families and friends.

Tonight, Will ran into the video store to pick up a movie.  The children and I waited in the car.  It’s much faster that way.  So we’re sitting there when the pickup two spaces down starts laying on the horn.  It’s occupied by a couple of down-home country boys and the object of their honking? is a twenty something woman inside the dollar store.  She looks out the window at them.  Clearly annoyed, she mouths some words their direction in that exaggerated way people do when they’re talking through glass.  Something about “over there” and “can’t”.  That’s all I caught.  Apparently our good ole boys caught even less because she shakes her head, heaves a sigh and whips out her cell phone.  Some part of me felt as if I were eavesdropping and should look away out of courtesy but I was fascinated by the unfolding drama.  Angrily her thumbs began to move with lightning speed.  There was a pause.  Clearly she did not like the return message.  The thumbs took off again.  There was another pause.  She looked up and out the window, giving a look which roughly translated means, “you are an idiot” and headed off toward the back of the store.

This scenario was wrong on so many levels I almost don’t know where to start.  Since when is it too difficult to take twenty steps to communicate.  “Reach out and touch someone?”  More like “withdrawal and text.”  Forget Math and Science, Grammar or History, if I can only teach one thing as a homeschooling parent let it be how to talk.  Let it be how to communicate ones own thoughts in an clear yet engaging way.  Let it be how to truly listen to the words of others.  Let it not be how to rely on technology to the point of ignorance.

A local art show hosts featuring all sorts of professional art and music hosts a youth gallery as well.  In years past I’ve not paid much attention to the event but this year Sister is old enough to enter and (wonder of wonders) actually wanted to enter.  Even so she seemed reluctant to share any of the art she’s done in the past deeming each piece imperfect in some way or another AND she seemed reluctant to create any new pieces held back by an invisible thread of fear that they too would fall short of perfection.  Finally she produced a simple pencil sketch of a goose head that while great for a sketch didn’t really qualify as an art show entry.  It lay on my desk for a couple of days.  I was unsure how to tell her that an art show entry deserved more time than the 3 to 5 minutes she’d spent…. or even if I should tell her.  I had no suggestions for something better and I did want to support her effort - slight though it was.  Then lying in bed last night just before sleep overtook all thought, it came to me - a project divided into small pieces so as not to overwhelm; a subject she consistently drew with confidence and a chance to use most every medium in our arsenal.

The finished piece consists of nine 5″x5″ squares and the word “Heart!” mounted on a 16″ x 20″ piece of matte board. 

Descriptions from right to left and top to bottom:

Watercolor heart, Bead “necklace”, Humpty-Heart Dumpty in ink and colored pencil

Clown heart in marker and foil shapes, a sunset scene in chalk,  Curly cue Heart done with markers that change color

Checkered heart in crayon, Glitter heart, and Pipe cleaner with colored pencil border.

Though I cut out the letters she’d drawn and mounted the finished squares Sister completed the rest of the project on her own.  (That is to say she did all the drawing and gluing and such while I sat nearby and praised each artistic choice.)  She started at 9am and we delivered the finished work at 4:25.  She was so proud.  I was proud that we made it through an eight hour project together without a major meltdown and from the experience I gleaned these nuggets:

Lesson #1 - It may seem a little thing to the untrained eye but this artwork represents a great accomplishment.  Sister would never have stuck with an ordinary project of that size but somehow because each portion was so small and because the goal of each was clearly defined she worked with gusto and was even heard to say, “Mom, I’m glad you thought of this!  It’s so much fun.” …. more than once.  This is important lesson for me - the mom, the teacher to understand.  I am comfortable with large tasks finding it easy to organize the parts.  Goals in my world are rarely unclear or poorly defined.  But these skills do not come easy to everyone.  To some they must be taught … cultivated - Sister is one of these.

Lesson #2 - Sister is so social that tasks done alone are drudgery but I can easily make a task worth doing or even fun simply by being present and engaged.  For a mom, who like most mothers, is a multi-tasker extroidonaire sitting in one place doing “nothing” but offering encouragement to a single soul seems like a waste of resources but it is important nonetheless.  In fact, it is far more important than the laundry left undone and the dishes in the sink.

Lesson #3 - Variety is the Spice of Life or Ditching School Makes Things Fun.  This one I knew but it bears repeating.  The curriculum is great as a guide but all work and no play makes Jack a very dull boy indeed.  Sister enjoyed the day because it was different and I enjoyed it because she was happy.

Considering the speed of light (299792.458 km/s) and that it takes approximately 50 bajillion years for light traveling at said speed to go the distance from the nearest star to Earth, can you imagine the planning it took to insure that the Star of Bethlehem’s** appearance coincided with a single baby’s birth? 

Sort of puts a whole new spin on Jeremiah 29:11.

“For I know the plans I have for you,”
declares the Lord,
“plans to prosper you and not to harm you,
plans to give you hope and a future.”

**more thoughts

In one of my first acting classes the professor assigned this improv exercise.  “You are going on a trip - a week long cruise.  Pantomime packing in a way that represents your personality.”  It seems I was the fifth or sixth student perform but I could have easily gone first.  I knew exactly what I would do for I had (up to that point) always packed for a trip in exactly the same way.  Sitting quietly for several minutes with a notepad close at hand I’d jot down a packing list.  Then, trusting the list as gospel, I’d pull out each outfit and miscellaneous item arranging them on my bed by expected day of use.  Once satisfied with the groupings I’d carefully pack everything into a bag and sit it by the door.  All of this would, of course, be done at least one if not two days ahead of the actual trip.  And I’d never - ever stay up late the night before. 

My, oh my, how things change.  Tomorrow Today we leave for our first real family vacation ever.  (We’re spending 3 days here.)  Of the four people going, I am responsible to pack for three of them yet there is no bag sitting patiently by the front door.  Instead between all the “Honey, can you…?”s and “Mama, I need…”s, I spent the day clearing out my inbox and the evening playing this game and this one too.  It will be just past midnight when I click the publish button but I am not worried.  I know things will turn out well because they always do and that’s the real change.  The young me that packed so systematically did so out of fear and worry and because she felt compelled to control every detail lest life try to move forward without her permission.  The now me accepts that life always moves forward and riding the flow is so much more enjoyable … not to mention more exciting.

Here’s something completely weird about me.  I’m a stay-at-home mom. (That’s not the weird part.) I take care of my kids and my man and my home. (Nope, not that either.)  I have no desire whatsoever to work in corporate America, own my own business or even be a work from home person.  (Wait for it.) I don’t even want to sell the crafty things I make on Etsy.  But (This is it.) I am fascinated by business books and business people.  I’ve devoured resources like The Art of the Start & 4-Hour Work Week and I faithfully read every post Seth Godin writes.  I’m not sure what it was about business writing that drew me in the first time but now I seek it out intentionally because even though the concepts seem far from stay-at-home mommydom I always walk away with something I can use.  Today, I am reminded about the idea of “exit strategy.”

At worst, an exit strategy will save face; at best, an exit strategy will peg a withdrawal to the achievement of an objective worth more than the cost of continued involvement  (Wikipedia)

An exit strategy is beneficial for big things (business deals, buying a house) but what struck me this morning is that it’s good for parenting too.

Take this scenario:  You’re going to a nice restaurant with some single friends.  You know little one is tired because s/he missed a nap.  What are you going to do if the tantrum of the year happens in the middle of dinner?  Or if munchkin simply becomes too squirmy to allow reasonable conversation to continue?  At what point will you say to your friends, “You know, this isn’t working.”?  Or will you?   Often we get caught up in the momentum of the moment.  It seems impossible to escape with any dignity so we just grin and bear it but a clear exit strategy can provide a graceful out of a stressful situation.

Imagine a slightly different scenario:  You’re going to a nice restaurant with friends.  As soon as the greetings are over, you explain that little one missed his/her nap today and you’re not certain whether you’ll get to stay for the whole dinner.  The server arrives.  You place your order and ask for a “to go” box at the same time.  Mid-meal when munchkin is just beginning to get out of hand you scoop what remains of your dish into the box, pull out some cash (which you got ahead of time) from your purse and kindly ask your friend to pay your portion of the check with it.  You and your grumpy baby are out the door within 5 minutes and your friends can continue to have a stress free meal.

So that’s an “out and about” example.  What about at home?  There are several pre-prepared phrases I use to diffuse various situations.  “I don’t know.” and “I was wrong.” top the list.  Fortunately, I discovered the truth of these two powerful statements early on in my parenting adventure.  The Bible says, “the truth will set you free.”  and that’s exactly what these simple words do.  Unfortunately, many parents are afraid to use them.  They are afraid (I guess.) that saying they don’t know or admitting they were wrong will weaken their image as authority figure.  Perhaps, but my experience is that my children respect me all the more for my weaknesses because it makes me seem (as I am) human.  They make me approachable.  They help put my children and I on the same side.

Closely following “I don’t know” and “I was wrong” are “I need to think about it.”, “Please explain what you need/want/meant.  I’m not sure I understand.” and “I’m too angry/upset/distracted to discuss this right now.”  All of these phrases can provide some breathing room in the midst of potentially volatile parental situations and I use them them frequently.  They are words of release.  Allowing my world to move away from gridlock and toward solutions.  They are my exit strategy.

*from The Gambler by Kenny Rogers

“To laugh is to risk appearing the fool. To weep is to risk appearing sentimental. To reach for another is to risk involvement. To expose your feelings is to risk exposing your true self. To place your ideas, your dreams before a crowd is to risk their loss. To love is to risk not being loved in return. To live is to risk dying. To believe is to risk despair. To try is to risk failure. But risks must be taken, because the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing. The person who risks nothing does nothing, has nothing, is nothing. They may avoid suffering and sorrow, but they cannot learn, feel, change, grow, love, live. Chained by their servitude they are slaves; they have forfeited their freedom. Only a person who risks is free.”

William Arthur Ward

Here is to living a life free of fear.  To accepting and embracing each moment for what it is and moving on without regret.

*photo courtesy of Snoober