The years are quickly dwindling away. Soon, my children will know the truth about Santa. But there's a question in itself. What is the truth about Santa? Every year there are outcries from all walks of life about how the idea of Santa Claus is just a deception. That those of us who "practice" the Santa magic are only setting our children up for mass disappointment and ultimate bitterness. Well, that's scary. I certainly don't want to embitter my children. In fact, my intentions to begin with, when first inviting Santa into our lives, was simply to establish a tradition much like that my husband and I grew up with. I had hoped to add joy and wonder to my kids' Christmas memories. If what I've done will only lead to those memories crashing and burning, then I guess I've got some major re-planning ahead of me!
So, as you all can guess, I did some research. The first thing I did was call my mother. I don't remember being bitterly disappointed. I know that there was the moment of discovery, but my memories of Christmas are all still intact. My mother shared with me her painstaking plans of bringing the magic to all six of her children; how, as a parent, the magic of Christmas is wrapped up in the child...just as the magic for the child is wrapped up in however the parent presents it (presents...not presents...as it were).
Yes, this rang true for me. My mother made Christmas at our house look like something Currier and Ives would paint and Cindy Lou Who would envy. It is this pattern that I've striven to carry through to my children's experiences. So, what is it about Santa? Would my Christmases have been just as joyous and magical without him? I don't know. Somehow I don't think so.
So, I asked parents who do NOT "do" Santa. One parent said he simply doesn't like the idea of some fictional guy getting the credit and thanks for gifts he bought. Another parent was intensely worried about the fact that Santa is a lie. Still another parent said she was so heartbroken and devastated to learn that Santa isn't real that she just couldn't do that to her children.
These are all valid points. I needed to take them into consideration. I spent a lot of time in prayer over this. At first, I felt really strange praying to God about whether or not I should lie to my kids. I mean, that's pretty-much a no-brainer. So, no lying. Okay. Got it. So I tell my kids there's no Santa and we go from there. I was so sad. I spent the next week or so completely depressed. It was as if a light inside me had burned out. I was disappointed in myself for having put so much of my energy into the Santa lie.
But wait. What if it's not a lie? What if Santa is real? I mean....what if? I'm not talking about a 1500 year old elf who talks to reindeer and wears a red suit. I went back to my earlier question...would Christmas have been as magical for me growing up without Santa? No. No it would not. So looking back, knowing my parents were "playing" Santa, I began to realize something. My parents WERE Santa. Santa is not a person! Santa is the magic of Christmas! Whoever bestows that magic upon you for your Christmas morning is Santa!
When teaching our children to do chores, we sometimes help them without letting know we're really doing it for them. We let them receive the credit. We praise them for a job well done even though we know good and well that we're the ones who straightened the sheets and adjusted the pillows. It's because we're training them. We have to ease them into it. We begin teaching them to do things on their own by first building within them the desire to work and the joy of completion.
That's Santa. My children are growing up in a world that will tell them over and over that God doesn't exist. That there is no such Being who hears our requests, grants miracles, and is never seen. Who does THAT sound like? Before you start stoning me, I'm not going so far as to say that Santa is God and that I'm trying to be God by playing Santa. No, no, no. Hear me. I'm saying that I must find a way to build a foundation of faith inside my children so strong as to withstand the nay-sayers as they grow in their relationship with God.
Teaching them that there are wondrous things that are not seen...that must simply be believed in...this is important. As their faith in God grows, they realize that they must be active in that faith. They must do His good works. Just like how one day, they will "play" Santa for their children. They will pass on this faith-training in order to show their children that wonder and joy and magic do exist within us.
I've come to the conclusion that Santa is not only a good part of Christmas, but a requirement! And guess what. Even if you don't "do" Santa, if you've brought anyone any happiness at all during this holiday season, you actually are Santa. Do not be afraid to spread joy, love, peace, and kindness this Christmas season. In doing so, you are not only spreading Christmas magic, you are teaching the fruits of the Spirit. Santa can be what you make him. I hope all of you meet Santa this year and welcome him into your homes.
Merry Christmas!!
Friday, December 20, 2013
Friday, November 22, 2013
Family Planning
No, not birth control, etc... I mean literally planning with/for your family! Do you? Are you good at it? Are you consistent? Are your ideas popular? Are your family plans successful?
If you answered "no" to any of the above, please know that you are not alone...and keep reading!
The Number One rule to making plans for your family is this:
"I will not always get it right, but I will never stop trying."
Don't set yourself for a catastrophic heartbreak by automatically assuming that every family activity is going to be "Happy Days" and "Leave it to Beaver" rolled into one. Sometimes, they're more "Three's Company" and "All in the Family"! The question is not, will I succeed? The question is, how can I make this as positive as possible? And you must NEVER allow yourself to stop trying to add quality to your family by making plans...creating traditions!
The Number Two rule when planning for your family is this:
"I will do my best, even when I don't feel like it."
Being consistent is so important! The moments we do NOT plan for our family or follow through on plans make more of an impact than the actual plans do at times. And, more times than not, you'll feel like doing it after you've gotten involved. I remember our kids used to want to play Candyland every Family Night. This game can go on forever! I was always tired and dreaded these evenings. But most of the time, the evenings were quite enjoyable. Sometimes they weren't. During these times, I would inform my husband (privately, of course) that I wasn't "into it" and he would help move things along and kind of buffer the annoyances. There were times when I thought, "Why are we even doing this? Everyone's cranky and I just want to go to bed." But now, looking back, I can see MANY reasons why following through, like it or not, was the right decision.
Rule Number Three (and the final rule I'll share today) is this:
"All must be involved!"
This is a toughy. Especially when there are such age differences in your children. But it's not Family Night if someone is left out. That's where you get creative. Get your kids' input! They have wonderful ideas and I know they're bursting to tell you what they want to do! Your job is simply to do it! It's hard at times, but always rewarding. The reasons are great and many for doing this. Family Night doesn't have a formal event. It can just be 30 minutes of sitting in the floor playing with blocks! (And this is something we've done with our kids being older!)
For one thing, it sets the expectation...the standard. I was teased a bit by a friend because she knew that we had our Family Nights every week. She said, "What makes it Family Night? I mean, your kids are all so young, you're together every night anyway!" She had a point. How was this different than any other night of us being together? Here are the three main reasons to institute Family Night (or whatever you wish to call it) once a week, no matter how old your children are or even if you do not HAVE children yet.
1. The Standard
As I mentioned above, a standard is set in place when you deem a certain night to be set apart from other nights in the week. Your discipline to do this now will instill the expectation in your children that this is simply the way it is. When they are old enough to be out of the house, have their own plans, be "too cool" for board games, etc, they will automatically know that this night is non-negotiable. "We've always done it." "It's always been this way." That's worth doing it now! If you're starting later in the game, you will need to have a discussion with your children about how this is a no-joke, deal-breaker, too-bad-you're-doing night!
2. The Message
My friend who pointed out that we were all together every night anyway was right....but also wrong. Being in the same house does not mean being together. Most often, we are all involved in different activities and in our own worlds. Making the effort to put those worlds aside in order to do a joint activity sends the message to every family member that they are the most important thing in your life. For my husband to cancel a meeting or step away from something important just to sit and put together a puzzle with us is HUGE. Hearing my daughter tell her friend, "No, I can't that night. It's Family Night at our house," is music to my ears! This is a lifelong message that no future hurt will ever be able to take away.
3. The Precious
My friends, it is the simple and sad truth that, at any moment, our precious loved ones can be taken from us. Do not wait. Start right now building a foundation of priorities and bonding that will comfort you and them later. The memories begin right this minute. Good or bad, you are creating memories RIGHT NOW. Make the most of it!!
There are more reasons, but these are the top three. I'll tell you some of the activities we've enjoyed:
Pirates! One evening, the children and I dressed as pirates and "lay in wait" for Mark to get home from work. As soon as he pulled in the drive, we accosted him and bound his hands (I took the laptop and briefcase for safety) and led him to our ship (the couch)! We held him down and drew a mustache on him, put a bandanna on his head and then made him walk the plank (an imaginary place where one could fall on a pile of pillows). Then, after all having a turn or two at the plank, we ate our meal....Fish Sticks of course! This was done when the children were very small and most of our little pirates were in nothing but diapers and bandannas!
Another time we played "Restaurant". This is one of the kids' favorites. I print up a menu of food choices (excellent for when you want to get rid of your leftovers) and a few drink choices (if you have something other than water...if not, just list water different ways. Drinks: Clear Wonder, Invisible Energy, or Water....see...it's ALL water!). Anyway, we have music playing and Mark dances with all three of the kids while they wait to be seated...then they all order from the menu and we eat...we dress up, light candles, make the table pretty, etc...it's so easy and so fun! (It offers you opportunities as well to teach table manners!!)
Once we had a talent show. This was hilarious. It was impromptu so no one had anything planned. We simply said, do something! And we all did. You will be proud and amazed at your children's spontaneous talents! When they were older, we each drew a family member's name from a hat and had to act out that person while everyone tried to guess who we were. It's fun to see how your children portray you!
The point is, do something! It is never too early. It is never too late. Your family is a gift to you and you have so many opportunities to give back to them. Our next Family Night? Thanksgiving, of course! Happy Thanksgiving to all of you and my prayers for you to experience much in the way of family togetherness!
If you answered "no" to any of the above, please know that you are not alone...and keep reading!
The Number One rule to making plans for your family is this:
"I will not always get it right, but I will never stop trying."
Don't set yourself for a catastrophic heartbreak by automatically assuming that every family activity is going to be "Happy Days" and "Leave it to Beaver" rolled into one. Sometimes, they're more "Three's Company" and "All in the Family"! The question is not, will I succeed? The question is, how can I make this as positive as possible? And you must NEVER allow yourself to stop trying to add quality to your family by making plans...creating traditions!
The Number Two rule when planning for your family is this:
"I will do my best, even when I don't feel like it."
Being consistent is so important! The moments we do NOT plan for our family or follow through on plans make more of an impact than the actual plans do at times. And, more times than not, you'll feel like doing it after you've gotten involved. I remember our kids used to want to play Candyland every Family Night. This game can go on forever! I was always tired and dreaded these evenings. But most of the time, the evenings were quite enjoyable. Sometimes they weren't. During these times, I would inform my husband (privately, of course) that I wasn't "into it" and he would help move things along and kind of buffer the annoyances. There were times when I thought, "Why are we even doing this? Everyone's cranky and I just want to go to bed." But now, looking back, I can see MANY reasons why following through, like it or not, was the right decision.
Rule Number Three (and the final rule I'll share today) is this:
"All must be involved!"
This is a toughy. Especially when there are such age differences in your children. But it's not Family Night if someone is left out. That's where you get creative. Get your kids' input! They have wonderful ideas and I know they're bursting to tell you what they want to do! Your job is simply to do it! It's hard at times, but always rewarding. The reasons are great and many for doing this. Family Night doesn't have a formal event. It can just be 30 minutes of sitting in the floor playing with blocks! (And this is something we've done with our kids being older!)
For one thing, it sets the expectation...the standard. I was teased a bit by a friend because she knew that we had our Family Nights every week. She said, "What makes it Family Night? I mean, your kids are all so young, you're together every night anyway!" She had a point. How was this different than any other night of us being together? Here are the three main reasons to institute Family Night (or whatever you wish to call it) once a week, no matter how old your children are or even if you do not HAVE children yet.
1. The Standard
As I mentioned above, a standard is set in place when you deem a certain night to be set apart from other nights in the week. Your discipline to do this now will instill the expectation in your children that this is simply the way it is. When they are old enough to be out of the house, have their own plans, be "too cool" for board games, etc, they will automatically know that this night is non-negotiable. "We've always done it." "It's always been this way." That's worth doing it now! If you're starting later in the game, you will need to have a discussion with your children about how this is a no-joke, deal-breaker, too-bad-you're-doing night!
2. The Message
My friend who pointed out that we were all together every night anyway was right....but also wrong. Being in the same house does not mean being together. Most often, we are all involved in different activities and in our own worlds. Making the effort to put those worlds aside in order to do a joint activity sends the message to every family member that they are the most important thing in your life. For my husband to cancel a meeting or step away from something important just to sit and put together a puzzle with us is HUGE. Hearing my daughter tell her friend, "No, I can't that night. It's Family Night at our house," is music to my ears! This is a lifelong message that no future hurt will ever be able to take away.
3. The Precious
My friends, it is the simple and sad truth that, at any moment, our precious loved ones can be taken from us. Do not wait. Start right now building a foundation of priorities and bonding that will comfort you and them later. The memories begin right this minute. Good or bad, you are creating memories RIGHT NOW. Make the most of it!!
There are more reasons, but these are the top three. I'll tell you some of the activities we've enjoyed:
Pirates! One evening, the children and I dressed as pirates and "lay in wait" for Mark to get home from work. As soon as he pulled in the drive, we accosted him and bound his hands (I took the laptop and briefcase for safety) and led him to our ship (the couch)! We held him down and drew a mustache on him, put a bandanna on his head and then made him walk the plank (an imaginary place where one could fall on a pile of pillows). Then, after all having a turn or two at the plank, we ate our meal....Fish Sticks of course! This was done when the children were very small and most of our little pirates were in nothing but diapers and bandannas!
Another time we played "Restaurant". This is one of the kids' favorites. I print up a menu of food choices (excellent for when you want to get rid of your leftovers) and a few drink choices (if you have something other than water...if not, just list water different ways. Drinks: Clear Wonder, Invisible Energy, or Water....see...it's ALL water!). Anyway, we have music playing and Mark dances with all three of the kids while they wait to be seated...then they all order from the menu and we eat...we dress up, light candles, make the table pretty, etc...it's so easy and so fun! (It offers you opportunities as well to teach table manners!!)
Once we had a talent show. This was hilarious. It was impromptu so no one had anything planned. We simply said, do something! And we all did. You will be proud and amazed at your children's spontaneous talents! When they were older, we each drew a family member's name from a hat and had to act out that person while everyone tried to guess who we were. It's fun to see how your children portray you!
The point is, do something! It is never too early. It is never too late. Your family is a gift to you and you have so many opportunities to give back to them. Our next Family Night? Thanksgiving, of course! Happy Thanksgiving to all of you and my prayers for you to experience much in the way of family togetherness!
Tuesday, November 19, 2013
Dear Mrs. Unloved...
Dear, Mrs. Unloved~
I hesitate even to address this to you in that manner because none of us is unloved. But it's your moniker of choice and I respect that.
Your letter, groomed and edited for discretion is as follows:
Dear Kim,
I'm writing this email to ask you about love in a marriage. I've been married to my husband for twelve years and there are a lot of times that I feel like he doesn't love me. I know he loves me when things are going good and I know he'd never leave me but sometimes if one of us is stressed or in a bad mood I can't feel any love at all. I guess what I'm asking is is this normal? Is it really a good marriage if sometimes there's no love?
Signed,
Unloved
My dear, first of all, YES. Feeling love is going to be the come-and-go feature in your marriage for a lifetime. The foundation of love never leaves, however. You have the answer in your heart. You said to me, "...I know he'd never leave me..." That is confidence founded on a secure relationship. That is love. Love is sometimes invisible because we are looking for it to be a certain shape or color and it isn't any. It is simply there. But when all the lights in your marriage seem to be out, look deep into the dark without blinking and you'll find it. Love will be that tiny candle of security burning with all it's might until the lights come back on. It will be hard, but during these dry moments you mustn't look to your husband for any kind of emotional sustenance. You must look to God. God will fill you up. And as the emotion of love comes back into your relationship with God, it will inevitably be present in your marriage as well.
I hope this has helped. Please email me in a month or so and update me!
Love,
Kim
I hesitate even to address this to you in that manner because none of us is unloved. But it's your moniker of choice and I respect that.
Your letter, groomed and edited for discretion is as follows:
Dear Kim,
I'm writing this email to ask you about love in a marriage. I've been married to my husband for twelve years and there are a lot of times that I feel like he doesn't love me. I know he loves me when things are going good and I know he'd never leave me but sometimes if one of us is stressed or in a bad mood I can't feel any love at all. I guess what I'm asking is is this normal? Is it really a good marriage if sometimes there's no love?
Signed,
Unloved
My dear, first of all, YES. Feeling love is going to be the come-and-go feature in your marriage for a lifetime. The foundation of love never leaves, however. You have the answer in your heart. You said to me, "...I know he'd never leave me..." That is confidence founded on a secure relationship. That is love. Love is sometimes invisible because we are looking for it to be a certain shape or color and it isn't any. It is simply there. But when all the lights in your marriage seem to be out, look deep into the dark without blinking and you'll find it. Love will be that tiny candle of security burning with all it's might until the lights come back on. It will be hard, but during these dry moments you mustn't look to your husband for any kind of emotional sustenance. You must look to God. God will fill you up. And as the emotion of love comes back into your relationship with God, it will inevitably be present in your marriage as well.
I hope this has helped. Please email me in a month or so and update me!
Love,
Kim
Modes of Mod and Modesty
This is not your average "girls-please-don't-wear-tight-skirts" blog post. I think we are aware of what's modest and what is not. If you are unaware, just ask someone over the age of 40 at your church to come go through your closet. There. Now, I'd like to talk about the misconception that wearing modest clothing means sacrificing style. This is the opposite of truth. (That means, it's a lie) Modest fashion has a name...it's called "Classic." Look at "Classic" styles throughout the ages and show me something immodest. (Go ahead. Google "Classic style fashion images".) There may be a slightly lower-than-wished-for neckline, but nothing plunging. There may be an above-the-knee dress, but nothing revealing. Classy, classic styles are always in and most of the time appropriate for any and every occasion.
I've also been told that daring personalities simply cannot always dress modestly because modesty is boring. Really? What is your style? Bold? Dramatic? Colorful? Make-a-Statement? Welcome to this wonderful website I found... http://www.littlenaturalcottage.com/bold-modesty-fall-fashions-that-defy-frump/ Modesty has nothing to do with personality...It is not only for the boring or the shy or the introverted. Modesty is a statement of self-respect and standards. It's been my experience that the most bold and strong of women are those with healthy self-respect and standards. Having that personality and then dressing like a cougar or desperate bar-fly just nulls and voids all the hard work you've done in being as strong as you are!
I want to plug the "retro" look for a moment as well. Mod is not all mini-skirts and peasant blouses. Check out some of the Rockabilly style sites and pick something amazing that you can be proud of yourself in.
In summation, I am not against beautiful, caught-off-guard, in-your-face fashion! I am against degrading yourself and believing that's pretty.
Respect yourself and demand that respect from others through your fashion sense!!
Monday, November 18, 2013
Dear Kim
And so it begins...
I've been asked over and over again to start an advice column. So here it is. Go ahead...ask me something.
Send questions/issues to:
onceuponahousewife@gmail.com
and I will post and answer accordingly. There will be complete discretion and anonymity. Your emails will not be seen by the public. Your questions will be modified to protect your identity. Posting the problem-and-answer helps so many others struggling with the same thing.
So....what's on your mind?
I've been asked over and over again to start an advice column. So here it is. Go ahead...ask me something.
Send questions/issues to:
onceuponahousewife@gmail.com
and I will post and answer accordingly. There will be complete discretion and anonymity. Your emails will not be seen by the public. Your questions will be modified to protect your identity. Posting the problem-and-answer helps so many others struggling with the same thing.
So....what's on your mind?
Monday, November 4, 2013
Mama Me-Uh...
Being a mom. This is something I've wanted ever since I can remember. I knew that being a mom meant hard work. I knew there would be worrisome times and challenges. But I didn't have a clue as to the details. I'm starting to learn now...
Being a mom means determining between and the importance of...
a hurt/emergency cry and a playing/no worries cry.
too dirty to go to bed without a bath and we'll-scrub-you-in-the-morning
what constitutes a spanking offense versus a good talking to (versus a let-it-slide)
what Daddy needs to know. ;)
when a situation calls for a trip to Sonic for ice cream
how to be tough when your heart is breaking inside
when to let it be worn, even though it's been worn twice already without being washed
praying with, for, and over the child
pushing through exhaustion you never knew existed
allowing credit to always go to the child, even though YOU'RE the one who REALLY did it
controlling the unbelievably strong urge to lash out in anger
when to laugh it off and when to settle down
knowing that there will eventually come a day when you can go to the bathroom by yourself again
letting your child cry in the middle of the super market with everyone staring at you because it's more important for the child to get it out of their system than to hush them for others' comfort.
the difference between grace and consequences
realizing that consistency with discipline is so much harder for you than for the child
continuing through illness, anger, hurt, and fear
sacrifice
sacrifice
sacrifice
love always.
It is my greatest honor to be a mom. I do not do it well and on occasion do it miserably. But that's the most important lesson of all. I am the only mom they have. I can only be the best mom I can be from day to day.
Being a mom means determining between and the importance of...
a hurt/emergency cry and a playing/no worries cry.
too dirty to go to bed without a bath and we'll-scrub-you-in-the-morning
what constitutes a spanking offense versus a good talking to (versus a let-it-slide)
what Daddy needs to know. ;)
when a situation calls for a trip to Sonic for ice cream
how to be tough when your heart is breaking inside
when to let it be worn, even though it's been worn twice already without being washed
praying with, for, and over the child
pushing through exhaustion you never knew existed
allowing credit to always go to the child, even though YOU'RE the one who REALLY did it
controlling the unbelievably strong urge to lash out in anger
when to laugh it off and when to settle down
knowing that there will eventually come a day when you can go to the bathroom by yourself again
letting your child cry in the middle of the super market with everyone staring at you because it's more important for the child to get it out of their system than to hush them for others' comfort.
the difference between grace and consequences
realizing that consistency with discipline is so much harder for you than for the child
continuing through illness, anger, hurt, and fear
sacrifice
sacrifice
sacrifice
love always.
It is my greatest honor to be a mom. I do not do it well and on occasion do it miserably. But that's the most important lesson of all. I am the only mom they have. I can only be the best mom I can be from day to day.
Friday, November 1, 2013
Okay? Okay.
I'm a student of human behavior and how the mind works. I love watching television shows about serial killers and police investigations because it amazes me how differently the mind can work in different people. I love researching brain functions and psychological findings for the same reason. There are several things I've learned and am still learning. One thing I'll share today is how I've discovered that, generally speaking, everyone wants to know that it's okay. Whatever we think, feel, do, or want is okay. It's the root of all insecurities. We want to know that our opinion is okay. We want to feel that our life-choices are okay. We want our style of dress, our ambitions, our hair, our homes, our vehicles are okay....accepted....allowed....normal.
In light of this, we see every apology as a plea for the response, "It's okay." When we tell someone, "I'm sorry," and they reply, "That's okay," don't we feel tons better? I remember when I was very young I told a lie. When I confessed it to my mother and said how sorry I was, she said, "Good." I said, "But it's okay?" She said, "No." I said, "But I'm sorry!" She said, "Good." I said, "Mama!! I'm sorry so now you tell me it's okay!" She said, "Kimberly, nothing we say or do will ever make telling a lie okay. Saying you're sorry, and I do believe you mean it, still does not erase the lie. It does not make the lie okay. You are okay. You are forgiven and you are okay. But I'm glad you're sorry for the lie." This was huge to me! Sometimes things are NOT okay! This is something that has stayed with me my whole life. Knowing that some things are never going to be okay has helped me in my focus to strive for those things that will ALWAYS be okay. Light, goodness, hope, peace, love...
Is it okay to wear my hair as an orange Mohawk? Yep. That's okay. Is it okay to walk out of my house naked? Nope. That's not okay (on so many levels!). Being different is so okay. Immodesty is never okay. Media, Hollywood, those in the public eye (mainly the women) have made immodesty a statement of style. Cleavage, thigh, etc...it's just "who they are". It's okay because they are famous and beautiful and proud of their bodies. Well, la-tee-da. Immodesty is never okay. I'm not talking about situational immodesty; giving birth requires a portion of immodesty, surgery, changing in the locker-room, and emergencies calling for ripped clothing, etc. Even in these situations, however, there is no need to go beyond what is required. What happened to decency? Wearing a beautiful new swimsuit is so much fun. Men do not get just what a new swimsuit, in just the right color, fitting just the right way can do for a woman. We love it! It is a high! But if it is immodest, it's not okay. Get my drift yet?
Sin is not okay. Back to my lie. White lies, lies of protection, lie by omission, lies of convenience... these are not okay. But, this is somewhat universally recognized. Let's get controversial. Homosexuality is not okay. Gay marriage is not okay. Living a homosexual lifestyle, whether or not you are doing so monogamously, is not okay. I wish it was. God says it isn't and therefore it isn't. Hear me. Homosexuals are okay. Homosexuality is not okay. Confusing? Remember what my mother said? Nothing we say or do will ever make the lie okay....I am okay...the lie is not. Homosexuals bear a cross I cannot fathom. They command a strength of self-denial that goes beyond my mental grasp. And yet, they are called to live without homosexuality. This is not for us to understand or to judge. In fact, we (the Church) should (in my opinion) be more outspoken about our desire to HELP them with this struggle! If we saw someone single-handedly attempting to pull a three-ton boulder down the road, we'd offer our help. How much easier it would be if thousands banded together to help move the boulder! Do not leave them to pull it by themselves and for pete's sake, don't just stand their gaping at the fact that this is their lot.
It's not okay to gossip. This is one of my crosses. I justify gossip in the name of "I'm just concerned...I need to share...this person needs prayers..." You know what? It's not okay. No amount of good intention will ever make gossip okay. It is not. Ever. Okay. It is not okay to be the one speaking it NOR the one hearing it! This is so hard for me! I'm a talker. I do not reveal secrets. I do, however, share my experiences with people that are unfavorable. I "vent". "THEN she was so rude to me!" Not okay. "......unwholesome talk.....only that which lifts others up...." Sound familiar? I fail at this. Daily. It's accepted and even encouraged so much of the time. I'm even told that it's okay! But it's not.
It's not okay to have an extra-marital affair. It's not okay to steal or cheat or hate. It's not okay to treat your spouse in any way other than how Christ treats His church. It's not okay to slander or kill or judge.
You know what IS okay? Loving everyone even when what they are doing is not okay. Loving and accepting are two VERY different things. Understanding this is crucial to our society and our religion.
It's okay to have standards. It's okay to love our GOD unapologetically! It's not okay to judge or force our concepts on others. "Oh," you say, "But, Kim, aren't you judging by telling us what is okay and not okay?" No. If it were up to me, my friends, it would ALL be okay. I can justify ANYTHING! I am a lover...it's been said, "Kim, if it were up to you, you'd just love everyone to Heaven." Love is what I do. This "okay" and "not okay" comes from God. We are given a guideline. Read what He has to say and live by it. It is simple. The "gray" areas are created by us.
I have lost friends. I may lose more today. And as Mark and I are trying to teach our children, losing friends is okay. Compromising God's Word is not okay. Okay doesn't mean easy or happy or preferred. In fact, so much of "okay" is hard and requires much sacrifice.
Please just remember. Ours is not to seek "okay". Ours is to glorify God. That is ALWAYS okay.
Okay?
In light of this, we see every apology as a plea for the response, "It's okay." When we tell someone, "I'm sorry," and they reply, "That's okay," don't we feel tons better? I remember when I was very young I told a lie. When I confessed it to my mother and said how sorry I was, she said, "Good." I said, "But it's okay?" She said, "No." I said, "But I'm sorry!" She said, "Good." I said, "Mama!! I'm sorry so now you tell me it's okay!" She said, "Kimberly, nothing we say or do will ever make telling a lie okay. Saying you're sorry, and I do believe you mean it, still does not erase the lie. It does not make the lie okay. You are okay. You are forgiven and you are okay. But I'm glad you're sorry for the lie." This was huge to me! Sometimes things are NOT okay! This is something that has stayed with me my whole life. Knowing that some things are never going to be okay has helped me in my focus to strive for those things that will ALWAYS be okay. Light, goodness, hope, peace, love...
Is it okay to wear my hair as an orange Mohawk? Yep. That's okay. Is it okay to walk out of my house naked? Nope. That's not okay (on so many levels!). Being different is so okay. Immodesty is never okay. Media, Hollywood, those in the public eye (mainly the women) have made immodesty a statement of style. Cleavage, thigh, etc...it's just "who they are". It's okay because they are famous and beautiful and proud of their bodies. Well, la-tee-da. Immodesty is never okay. I'm not talking about situational immodesty; giving birth requires a portion of immodesty, surgery, changing in the locker-room, and emergencies calling for ripped clothing, etc. Even in these situations, however, there is no need to go beyond what is required. What happened to decency? Wearing a beautiful new swimsuit is so much fun. Men do not get just what a new swimsuit, in just the right color, fitting just the right way can do for a woman. We love it! It is a high! But if it is immodest, it's not okay. Get my drift yet?
Sin is not okay. Back to my lie. White lies, lies of protection, lie by omission, lies of convenience... these are not okay. But, this is somewhat universally recognized. Let's get controversial. Homosexuality is not okay. Gay marriage is not okay. Living a homosexual lifestyle, whether or not you are doing so monogamously, is not okay. I wish it was. God says it isn't and therefore it isn't. Hear me. Homosexuals are okay. Homosexuality is not okay. Confusing? Remember what my mother said? Nothing we say or do will ever make the lie okay....I am okay...the lie is not. Homosexuals bear a cross I cannot fathom. They command a strength of self-denial that goes beyond my mental grasp. And yet, they are called to live without homosexuality. This is not for us to understand or to judge. In fact, we (the Church) should (in my opinion) be more outspoken about our desire to HELP them with this struggle! If we saw someone single-handedly attempting to pull a three-ton boulder down the road, we'd offer our help. How much easier it would be if thousands banded together to help move the boulder! Do not leave them to pull it by themselves and for pete's sake, don't just stand their gaping at the fact that this is their lot.
It's not okay to gossip. This is one of my crosses. I justify gossip in the name of "I'm just concerned...I need to share...this person needs prayers..." You know what? It's not okay. No amount of good intention will ever make gossip okay. It is not. Ever. Okay. It is not okay to be the one speaking it NOR the one hearing it! This is so hard for me! I'm a talker. I do not reveal secrets. I do, however, share my experiences with people that are unfavorable. I "vent". "THEN she was so rude to me!" Not okay. "......unwholesome talk.....only that which lifts others up...." Sound familiar? I fail at this. Daily. It's accepted and even encouraged so much of the time. I'm even told that it's okay! But it's not.
It's not okay to have an extra-marital affair. It's not okay to steal or cheat or hate. It's not okay to treat your spouse in any way other than how Christ treats His church. It's not okay to slander or kill or judge.
You know what IS okay? Loving everyone even when what they are doing is not okay. Loving and accepting are two VERY different things. Understanding this is crucial to our society and our religion.
It's okay to have standards. It's okay to love our GOD unapologetically! It's not okay to judge or force our concepts on others. "Oh," you say, "But, Kim, aren't you judging by telling us what is okay and not okay?" No. If it were up to me, my friends, it would ALL be okay. I can justify ANYTHING! I am a lover...it's been said, "Kim, if it were up to you, you'd just love everyone to Heaven." Love is what I do. This "okay" and "not okay" comes from God. We are given a guideline. Read what He has to say and live by it. It is simple. The "gray" areas are created by us.
I have lost friends. I may lose more today. And as Mark and I are trying to teach our children, losing friends is okay. Compromising God's Word is not okay. Okay doesn't mean easy or happy or preferred. In fact, so much of "okay" is hard and requires much sacrifice.
Please just remember. Ours is not to seek "okay". Ours is to glorify God. That is ALWAYS okay.
Okay?
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
A Tale of Two Families
Here's a week in the life of two families I know; the First Family:
Their week started with Husband getting up and getting the kids ready for church. Wife of course wasn't going. She hardly ever goes. She just sits and escapes into the computer or a book. Husband, in his frantic efforts to get everyone fed and dressed and out the door, forgot to give Third his medicine. No one noticed this until later that evening...when Third wouldn't stop crying over everything.
Monday began with no one wanting to get out of bed. Wife had to get up because she had to go to school and then meet Husband to take First all the way to Little Rock for medical tests. Husband had three things to coordinate before leaving and so was stressed; wife was her usual do-as-little-as-possible self; everyone was a little tense about the appointment for First. First, it turns out, would need to come back on Halloween for a procedure. She would miss school parties and most of Trick-or-Treating. Husband bought her ice cream to cheer her up but the ice cream was not mixed well and it tasted awful. That evening was full of running errands and fulfilling obligations. Bed finally came, but not before Wife determined that the dishes and laundry could wait yet another day.
Tuesday was hard from the first minute. Husband had to leave town on business and wouldn't be returning until late Thursday night. Wife puttered around while Husband got all of his things together. Finally, heading out the door, he picked up his suitcase only to realize, too late, that he'd forgotten to zip it. Wife watched as he repacked everything and then waved to him from across the room as he left for his trip.
Wife sat down and looked at the week set before her. Today she was so sad for her friends who had lost a dear friend of theirs. She was at a loss for something to do for them. Also, she had obligations to fulfill all day long and a test in her class the following morning! Instead of picking all the kids up in one swoop, she had to pick Second and Third up and then an hour later go get First. Regular schedules were confused because there were Parent/Teacher Conferences (that she had to attend alone because Husband's out of town).
Wednesday meant class again for Wife, after taking a test she wasn't completely prepared for, and then a doctor's appointment, and then cleaning house like crazy because the in-laws are coming on Friday. Church Wednesday night was always hard because Third is always cranky and sleepy the minute church is over, making bedtime such a pain.
Thursday would be a day of chaos. Last minute house chores, finishing up homework, and preparing for in-laws. Also, although Husband returns to town Thursday, no one would see him until midnight or so because this weekend is Bison Days at school...busy busy busy!
Friday is Second's birthday. Wife has to have his card-with-money ready meaning a trip to the bank for change and getting a card and also making sure the house is clean and groceries are stocked and everyone's clean and happy because the grandparents are coming!
It makes me tired to witness this family in action. Let's talk about the Second Family:
Their week started off with Husband whispering to Wife as she was waking, "I know you had a rough night because of your back injury. Just lie still and I'll take the kids to church." Wife got up slowly and sat in her chair. She watched her sweet family helping each other tie shoes and comb hair. She wished she could join them this morning but the pain of sitting in a pew for an hour wouldn't allow it. To distract herself from her sadness, she did some work on her computer and studied her book. That evening, Third was in sore spirits because he hadn't had his medicine that morning. Without hesitation, Wife gave him a dose and within 20 minutes all was well.
Monday was a flurry of activity...school...work... Wife is blessed to be able to take a class and is loving it. Often this class is the highlight of her week. After class, she and Husband pick up First and go to Little Rock for a doctor appointment. It's about a 45 minute drive and, because it's so rare for just the three of them to be together (without Second and Third), they just visited and enjoyed the time. On the way home, they got some ice cream which First ended up not liking. Husband said, "Don't eat that, Honey!" He took it from her and she said, "But I don't want it to go to waste." She looked and saw it was already gone. Husband, with a little ice cream on his mouth, said, "Um...no worries." That night was filled with fellowship and service during a church function and then early bedtime for all.
Tuesday morning, Husband had to go out of town. Because Wife had missed her chiropractic appointment Monday, she was moving very slowly. She couldn't even rise to kiss him goodbye but he winked and she waved and they knew all was well. Because her friends were experience a loss and she wanted to help in some way, Wife was so happy to get to keep the baby of her dear friend and professor. What a sweet baby! Wife had forgotten how sweet and chubby and cuddly they can be. She didn't wash a dish or dust a surface all day. She just loved on that sweet baby.
Wednesday would mean church and Bible class. Usually Third needs extra encouragement to stay the course until bedtime, but Wife was prepared and had a little snack for him when the time came to go to class. The rest of the week would go just as smoothly because, despite the chaos, Wife knew that all that was dear to her was as it should be. Her in-laws would be arriving on the weekend... just in time to spoil the grandkids so Wife could help Husband with his busy schedule at work. How blessed Wife felt.
Of course, you realize this is the same family as the first one. It's all about attitude. You can have a great week or an awful week and it has nothing do with your schedule, the status of your house, the people around you, your physical health, or what you plan or don't plan. It's. All. About. Attitude. I hope you choose to have a great week!
Their week started with Husband getting up and getting the kids ready for church. Wife of course wasn't going. She hardly ever goes. She just sits and escapes into the computer or a book. Husband, in his frantic efforts to get everyone fed and dressed and out the door, forgot to give Third his medicine. No one noticed this until later that evening...when Third wouldn't stop crying over everything.
Monday began with no one wanting to get out of bed. Wife had to get up because she had to go to school and then meet Husband to take First all the way to Little Rock for medical tests. Husband had three things to coordinate before leaving and so was stressed; wife was her usual do-as-little-as-possible self; everyone was a little tense about the appointment for First. First, it turns out, would need to come back on Halloween for a procedure. She would miss school parties and most of Trick-or-Treating. Husband bought her ice cream to cheer her up but the ice cream was not mixed well and it tasted awful. That evening was full of running errands and fulfilling obligations. Bed finally came, but not before Wife determined that the dishes and laundry could wait yet another day.
Tuesday was hard from the first minute. Husband had to leave town on business and wouldn't be returning until late Thursday night. Wife puttered around while Husband got all of his things together. Finally, heading out the door, he picked up his suitcase only to realize, too late, that he'd forgotten to zip it. Wife watched as he repacked everything and then waved to him from across the room as he left for his trip.
Wife sat down and looked at the week set before her. Today she was so sad for her friends who had lost a dear friend of theirs. She was at a loss for something to do for them. Also, she had obligations to fulfill all day long and a test in her class the following morning! Instead of picking all the kids up in one swoop, she had to pick Second and Third up and then an hour later go get First. Regular schedules were confused because there were Parent/Teacher Conferences (that she had to attend alone because Husband's out of town).
Wednesday meant class again for Wife, after taking a test she wasn't completely prepared for, and then a doctor's appointment, and then cleaning house like crazy because the in-laws are coming on Friday. Church Wednesday night was always hard because Third is always cranky and sleepy the minute church is over, making bedtime such a pain.
Thursday would be a day of chaos. Last minute house chores, finishing up homework, and preparing for in-laws. Also, although Husband returns to town Thursday, no one would see him until midnight or so because this weekend is Bison Days at school...busy busy busy!
Friday is Second's birthday. Wife has to have his card-with-money ready meaning a trip to the bank for change and getting a card and also making sure the house is clean and groceries are stocked and everyone's clean and happy because the grandparents are coming!
It makes me tired to witness this family in action. Let's talk about the Second Family:
Their week started off with Husband whispering to Wife as she was waking, "I know you had a rough night because of your back injury. Just lie still and I'll take the kids to church." Wife got up slowly and sat in her chair. She watched her sweet family helping each other tie shoes and comb hair. She wished she could join them this morning but the pain of sitting in a pew for an hour wouldn't allow it. To distract herself from her sadness, she did some work on her computer and studied her book. That evening, Third was in sore spirits because he hadn't had his medicine that morning. Without hesitation, Wife gave him a dose and within 20 minutes all was well.
Monday was a flurry of activity...school...work... Wife is blessed to be able to take a class and is loving it. Often this class is the highlight of her week. After class, she and Husband pick up First and go to Little Rock for a doctor appointment. It's about a 45 minute drive and, because it's so rare for just the three of them to be together (without Second and Third), they just visited and enjoyed the time. On the way home, they got some ice cream which First ended up not liking. Husband said, "Don't eat that, Honey!" He took it from her and she said, "But I don't want it to go to waste." She looked and saw it was already gone. Husband, with a little ice cream on his mouth, said, "Um...no worries." That night was filled with fellowship and service during a church function and then early bedtime for all.
Tuesday morning, Husband had to go out of town. Because Wife had missed her chiropractic appointment Monday, she was moving very slowly. She couldn't even rise to kiss him goodbye but he winked and she waved and they knew all was well. Because her friends were experience a loss and she wanted to help in some way, Wife was so happy to get to keep the baby of her dear friend and professor. What a sweet baby! Wife had forgotten how sweet and chubby and cuddly they can be. She didn't wash a dish or dust a surface all day. She just loved on that sweet baby.
Wednesday would mean church and Bible class. Usually Third needs extra encouragement to stay the course until bedtime, but Wife was prepared and had a little snack for him when the time came to go to class. The rest of the week would go just as smoothly because, despite the chaos, Wife knew that all that was dear to her was as it should be. Her in-laws would be arriving on the weekend... just in time to spoil the grandkids so Wife could help Husband with his busy schedule at work. How blessed Wife felt.
Of course, you realize this is the same family as the first one. It's all about attitude. You can have a great week or an awful week and it has nothing do with your schedule, the status of your house, the people around you, your physical health, or what you plan or don't plan. It's. All. About. Attitude. I hope you choose to have a great week!
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
A Fly on the Wall
We've been told, "I wish I could be a fly on the wall at your house!" Well, if you had been one last night, this is what you would've witnessed.
After Math Night and Choir Concert, the five of us arrived home tired, hungry, and a bit on the cranky side. But there was work to be done.
Back up with me to 3:30 that afternoon. I picked the kids up from school and as they were jabbering away in the backseat, Phoenix said, "Guess what. We played Heads-Up Seven-Up in class today and I cheated and nobody knew!"
Um...what?!
I had just pulled into a parking place at Neighborhood Market where I'd hoped to do some very quick grocery-shopping. I asked Phoenix, "You cheated? For real?"
Phoenix said, "Yes ma'am."
I said, "Phoenix, did you think that was part of the game? To try and cheat without anyone knowing it?"
With a little more solemnness, he said, "No ma'am."
I said, "So, you knew it was wrong and you cheated. Okay. I'm not as upset about that as I am the fact that you sounded proud of it."
We had fought off the other baskets and won our own squeaky-wheeled prize by this time and were headed for the lunchmeat. I didn't want to have this conversation here. So I said, "Phoenix this isn't okay. We're going to talk about this tonight when we get home."
Working to put that on the back burner and now concentrate on unit prices, I heard Maggie tell Luke, "LUKE! NO! That's against God's Law!" Now, those of you who know our family also know we are about the least judgmental people inside the Kingdom. Tolerance and love weave together the blanket we all live under. So I turned around and asked, "What in the world did he do? Kill the can of peanuts?"
Maggie said, "He's singing Three is a Magic Number [from Schoolhouse Rock] and instead of singing 'A man and a woman had a little baby', he sang 'a mama and a woman had a little baby'!!"
So I said, "Maggie, lighten up. Luke, don't sing it wrong."
Luke said, "Why is that wrong?"
And that's why those of you who decided to also do your grocery-shopping at the Neighborhood Market witnessed me having both the Sex Talk and the Homosexual Impossibility of Conceiving Children Talk right there in the frozen foods section.
"...It just won't work. Sex is between a man and a woman. Now, grab those frozen peas and let's go get shampoo."
The day was just beginning.
Flash forward now to 8:00 p.m. We're home from our activities...tired...hungry...a little cranky. Luke isn't great at sitting still for very long unless it involves mathematic revelations or some new form of rhetoric. So, as he passed Maggie on his way to change into pajamas, he said, "You have a pretty voice, Maggie. Good job singing. Next time I might just want you to sing your song for me here at home though so I don't have to go and sit and watch and all that." Maggie just rolled her eyes.
Meanwhile, as Mark scarfed down his supper, I filled him in on the Phoenix dilemma. We decided to just get it over with. While we were explaining what can happen to a person's heart when they begin to be okay with dishonesty, even something as trivial as a game of Heads-Up Seven-Up, the other two children had quietly come in and were listening too. When we'd cried and hugged and assured Phoenix we love him, we heard Maggie crying. I said, "What's the matter??"
She wailed, "I HAVE TO TELL YOU SOMETHING!!!!!" Mark and I exchanged glances that said, "buckle up."
Mark said, "Come here, Sweetheart. Whatever it is, just relax and tell us. You know we love you no matter what."
She said, "In Kindergarten, I cheated at Heads-Up Seven-Up too! WAAAAAAHAHAHA!!!"
The mascara she wore for her concert was streaming down her face and I gave Mark a warning glance as I heard him mutter something about Alice Cooper. We got her settled and I noticed that this had cheered Phoenix quite a bit. He got a warning glance too. We hugged them and told them they are good and not to be so hard on themselves and that we love them...go brush your teeth and go to bed. But Maggie didn't budge. She said, "There's more." (I sent Luke to my bathroom to get make-up remover)
She proceeded to tell us about an assignment in Kindergarten she said she read but in fact had skimmed and a lie she'd told in second grade.
We couldn't laugh it off. This was obviously very serious business to her. It took about twenty minutes to assure her that she's a good person and we still love her.
I told Mark that perhaps we'd made a mistake even broaching the subject of confession if this is what it brought. He said, "No, it was good. Funny, but good. If they get it now, we won't have problems later."
So, as is part of our teaching, if you tell us the truth, you will not be punished. There will, however, be consequences. The difference between punishment and consequences is important to know. We punish for deceit. We help them make the consequences of their deceit as painless as possible. So, this morning, when I dropped the kids off at school, I walked with Phoenix to talk to his teacher. He confessed to her that he had cheated. She told him how proud she is of him and that she knows of no other 2nd Grader who would've had the courage to own up to his cheating. Phoenix held back his tears stoically as she hugged him. He looked at me and I saw the relief in his eyes. It was over. He'd gotten it all out and the worry and guilt were gone.
Such a little thing, cheating at Heads-up Seven-Up. But I think if we'd let it go with a, "Well don't do that again," it wouldn't have had the same life-learning power. We learn so much through our children. If my son can bring his sin into the light at the risk of losing his teacher's respect, then surely I can do the same.
In the fourth grade, I cheated at Heads-Up Seven-Up. I'm sorry.
After Math Night and Choir Concert, the five of us arrived home tired, hungry, and a bit on the cranky side. But there was work to be done.
Back up with me to 3:30 that afternoon. I picked the kids up from school and as they were jabbering away in the backseat, Phoenix said, "Guess what. We played Heads-Up Seven-Up in class today and I cheated and nobody knew!"
Um...what?!
I had just pulled into a parking place at Neighborhood Market where I'd hoped to do some very quick grocery-shopping. I asked Phoenix, "You cheated? For real?"
Phoenix said, "Yes ma'am."
I said, "Phoenix, did you think that was part of the game? To try and cheat without anyone knowing it?"
With a little more solemnness, he said, "No ma'am."
I said, "So, you knew it was wrong and you cheated. Okay. I'm not as upset about that as I am the fact that you sounded proud of it."
We had fought off the other baskets and won our own squeaky-wheeled prize by this time and were headed for the lunchmeat. I didn't want to have this conversation here. So I said, "Phoenix this isn't okay. We're going to talk about this tonight when we get home."
Working to put that on the back burner and now concentrate on unit prices, I heard Maggie tell Luke, "LUKE! NO! That's against God's Law!" Now, those of you who know our family also know we are about the least judgmental people inside the Kingdom. Tolerance and love weave together the blanket we all live under. So I turned around and asked, "What in the world did he do? Kill the can of peanuts?"
Maggie said, "He's singing Three is a Magic Number [from Schoolhouse Rock] and instead of singing 'A man and a woman had a little baby', he sang 'a mama and a woman had a little baby'!!"
So I said, "Maggie, lighten up. Luke, don't sing it wrong."
Luke said, "Why is that wrong?"
And that's why those of you who decided to also do your grocery-shopping at the Neighborhood Market witnessed me having both the Sex Talk and the Homosexual Impossibility of Conceiving Children Talk right there in the frozen foods section.
"...It just won't work. Sex is between a man and a woman. Now, grab those frozen peas and let's go get shampoo."
The day was just beginning.
Flash forward now to 8:00 p.m. We're home from our activities...tired...hungry...a little cranky. Luke isn't great at sitting still for very long unless it involves mathematic revelations or some new form of rhetoric. So, as he passed Maggie on his way to change into pajamas, he said, "You have a pretty voice, Maggie. Good job singing. Next time I might just want you to sing your song for me here at home though so I don't have to go and sit and watch and all that." Maggie just rolled her eyes.
Meanwhile, as Mark scarfed down his supper, I filled him in on the Phoenix dilemma. We decided to just get it over with. While we were explaining what can happen to a person's heart when they begin to be okay with dishonesty, even something as trivial as a game of Heads-Up Seven-Up, the other two children had quietly come in and were listening too. When we'd cried and hugged and assured Phoenix we love him, we heard Maggie crying. I said, "What's the matter??"
She wailed, "I HAVE TO TELL YOU SOMETHING!!!!!" Mark and I exchanged glances that said, "buckle up."
Mark said, "Come here, Sweetheart. Whatever it is, just relax and tell us. You know we love you no matter what."
She said, "In Kindergarten, I cheated at Heads-Up Seven-Up too! WAAAAAAHAHAHA!!!"
The mascara she wore for her concert was streaming down her face and I gave Mark a warning glance as I heard him mutter something about Alice Cooper. We got her settled and I noticed that this had cheered Phoenix quite a bit. He got a warning glance too. We hugged them and told them they are good and not to be so hard on themselves and that we love them...go brush your teeth and go to bed. But Maggie didn't budge. She said, "There's more." (I sent Luke to my bathroom to get make-up remover)
She proceeded to tell us about an assignment in Kindergarten she said she read but in fact had skimmed and a lie she'd told in second grade.
We couldn't laugh it off. This was obviously very serious business to her. It took about twenty minutes to assure her that she's a good person and we still love her.
I told Mark that perhaps we'd made a mistake even broaching the subject of confession if this is what it brought. He said, "No, it was good. Funny, but good. If they get it now, we won't have problems later."
So, as is part of our teaching, if you tell us the truth, you will not be punished. There will, however, be consequences. The difference between punishment and consequences is important to know. We punish for deceit. We help them make the consequences of their deceit as painless as possible. So, this morning, when I dropped the kids off at school, I walked with Phoenix to talk to his teacher. He confessed to her that he had cheated. She told him how proud she is of him and that she knows of no other 2nd Grader who would've had the courage to own up to his cheating. Phoenix held back his tears stoically as she hugged him. He looked at me and I saw the relief in his eyes. It was over. He'd gotten it all out and the worry and guilt were gone.
Such a little thing, cheating at Heads-up Seven-Up. But I think if we'd let it go with a, "Well don't do that again," it wouldn't have had the same life-learning power. We learn so much through our children. If my son can bring his sin into the light at the risk of losing his teacher's respect, then surely I can do the same.
In the fourth grade, I cheated at Heads-Up Seven-Up. I'm sorry.
Thursday, September 12, 2013
Being Luke's Mama
As many of you know, our Luke is a highly gifted 6-year-old. For the past six years (almost 7), I've wanted to share what he is all about but have felt very awkward. It always sounds like bragging when I say something and I'm not bragging...just sharing. And why am I sharing? Because when you witness something amazing, it's human nature to want to talk about it.
I want to talk about Luke. Please know that I'm not bragging. What this child knows and is capable of has nothing to do with me. He came into the world already amazing. It's all God.
To begin this all-about-Luke journey, I'd just like to post what it's like to be the mom of a genius. It may not be what you think. It certainly isn't what I thought it would be. I was thinking along the lines of being amazed all the time and never worrying about his future. Not so much.
Being Luke's Mama means forcing myself to listen. He talks all the time. And it's not always interesting. He feels the need to explain every detail of his creative process. While everyone is amazed by his understanding of formulas and engineering, I must sit and listen to how he arrived at his conclusions. Folks, you may think this would just be so "wow", but it's really so "get to the point so I can get up and go do something".
It means knowing that he will never see, do, understand, want, or be like other children. He is different in almost every aspect. And as a mother, I want my children to fit into a circle where they can feel encouraged and motivated by their peers. Who are Luke's peers? There's a handful of adults that Luke talks to. How do you arrange play-dates to the park with adults who work for a living and are too big for the monkey-bars?
Luke wants to do things the other kids do. For our Family Night one time he gave us a magic show. It was wonderful. Phoenix got a Magic Kit for his birthday (Christmas?) one year and both of the boys have had no end of fun with it. So we all sat in the living room and watched as Luke the Magnificent (complete with cape) performed visually illusive wonders. We also sat patiently while he then explained how each trick worked. He doesn't like illusions. He doesn't like things not appearing as they should.
Luke doesn't like phrases. I mean the everyday phrases we use like "Hurry...get on the stick" or "Run like the wind" or "You've got the same pants to get glad in"....One day I told him and our neighbor friend, "I'll be back in just a minute" and Luke leaned over to her and said, "Mama doesn't mean a real minute. It will be significantly longer than 60 seconds." One night at dinner, Maggie said, "....it was a piece-a-cake..." Luke said, "What does that mean? What was a piece of cake?" We explained it and he said, "I think making cake seems difficult. Why would that phrase make sense?"
Being Luke's Mama means being sensitive to his hyper-awareness. He is like an emotions-meter. He picks up the vibe of whatever room we're in. At a funeral, he will crawl up into a ball in the corner and cry incessantly. At the fair, he will jump and bound and giggle until I almost have to strap him to the cement and put tape over his mouth. When there's arguing, he apologizes (even though he is not involved in the argument) over and over and over. When someone is sick, he has to pat them and rub their back and their hair and keep bringing them things....glasses of orange juice, toys, books.
Luke is a hugger. He has no physical-space boundaries and respects no one else's. I've long ago stopped apologizing to strangers for Luke's hugs. I've noticed something. He's selective. It's not a selection process I understand, but he doesn't hug everyone. There's some emotional pull he feels and he hugs people who need it. The cashier at Wal-Mart; the elderly man at the nursing home; the tired mommy in the grocery store, the hotel maid, the greasy homeless man. And I let him. Remember the stranger-danger we mamas all harped on for our children? It somehow doesn't apply to Luke and I have had to learn to let him lead me in this.
He also hugs friends. We've had the Luke-has-to-stop-hugging-and-kissing-people-in-Bible-class talk. To him, a hug and a kiss are the proper hello to people he knows and likes. There's nothing inappropriate in this action from him, although it can be quite awkward on the receiving end.
Luke is loud. He doesn't like loud noises, but often has no volume control himself. It's unbelievable how loud he can be when he thinks he's speaking quietly. We're working on this. In the meantime, I must get over my urge to shh him all the time.
Luke doesn't like a lot of movies or television. When the kids want to watch t.v., he gets upset because he feels lonely...he wants to play. It's not fair to make the other two do what Luke wants all the time so we're working on finding quiet activities he can do while staying in the same room with them watching their shows. The toughest part of this is that he constantly says, "Pause it. I need to tell you something." He always needs to tell someone his current thoughts. It gets old fast.
Being Luke's Mama means I pray hard all the time that he will not be made fun of or hurt at school for being smarter than everyone. He cannot help it. He is the way God made him. But children are cruel. How do I explain to him that it's a good thing to be so smart?
Luke is a blessing. I'm glad to be his Mama. It's hard. And it's worth it.
I want to talk about Luke. Please know that I'm not bragging. What this child knows and is capable of has nothing to do with me. He came into the world already amazing. It's all God.
To begin this all-about-Luke journey, I'd just like to post what it's like to be the mom of a genius. It may not be what you think. It certainly isn't what I thought it would be. I was thinking along the lines of being amazed all the time and never worrying about his future. Not so much.
Being Luke's Mama means forcing myself to listen. He talks all the time. And it's not always interesting. He feels the need to explain every detail of his creative process. While everyone is amazed by his understanding of formulas and engineering, I must sit and listen to how he arrived at his conclusions. Folks, you may think this would just be so "wow", but it's really so "get to the point so I can get up and go do something".
It means knowing that he will never see, do, understand, want, or be like other children. He is different in almost every aspect. And as a mother, I want my children to fit into a circle where they can feel encouraged and motivated by their peers. Who are Luke's peers? There's a handful of adults that Luke talks to. How do you arrange play-dates to the park with adults who work for a living and are too big for the monkey-bars?
Luke wants to do things the other kids do. For our Family Night one time he gave us a magic show. It was wonderful. Phoenix got a Magic Kit for his birthday (Christmas?) one year and both of the boys have had no end of fun with it. So we all sat in the living room and watched as Luke the Magnificent (complete with cape) performed visually illusive wonders. We also sat patiently while he then explained how each trick worked. He doesn't like illusions. He doesn't like things not appearing as they should.
Luke doesn't like phrases. I mean the everyday phrases we use like "Hurry...get on the stick" or "Run like the wind" or "You've got the same pants to get glad in"....One day I told him and our neighbor friend, "I'll be back in just a minute" and Luke leaned over to her and said, "Mama doesn't mean a real minute. It will be significantly longer than 60 seconds." One night at dinner, Maggie said, "....it was a piece-a-cake..." Luke said, "What does that mean? What was a piece of cake?" We explained it and he said, "I think making cake seems difficult. Why would that phrase make sense?"
Being Luke's Mama means being sensitive to his hyper-awareness. He is like an emotions-meter. He picks up the vibe of whatever room we're in. At a funeral, he will crawl up into a ball in the corner and cry incessantly. At the fair, he will jump and bound and giggle until I almost have to strap him to the cement and put tape over his mouth. When there's arguing, he apologizes (even though he is not involved in the argument) over and over and over. When someone is sick, he has to pat them and rub their back and their hair and keep bringing them things....glasses of orange juice, toys, books.
Luke is a hugger. He has no physical-space boundaries and respects no one else's. I've long ago stopped apologizing to strangers for Luke's hugs. I've noticed something. He's selective. It's not a selection process I understand, but he doesn't hug everyone. There's some emotional pull he feels and he hugs people who need it. The cashier at Wal-Mart; the elderly man at the nursing home; the tired mommy in the grocery store, the hotel maid, the greasy homeless man. And I let him. Remember the stranger-danger we mamas all harped on for our children? It somehow doesn't apply to Luke and I have had to learn to let him lead me in this.
He also hugs friends. We've had the Luke-has-to-stop-hugging-and-kissing-people-in-Bible-class talk. To him, a hug and a kiss are the proper hello to people he knows and likes. There's nothing inappropriate in this action from him, although it can be quite awkward on the receiving end.
Luke is loud. He doesn't like loud noises, but often has no volume control himself. It's unbelievable how loud he can be when he thinks he's speaking quietly. We're working on this. In the meantime, I must get over my urge to shh him all the time.
Luke doesn't like a lot of movies or television. When the kids want to watch t.v., he gets upset because he feels lonely...he wants to play. It's not fair to make the other two do what Luke wants all the time so we're working on finding quiet activities he can do while staying in the same room with them watching their shows. The toughest part of this is that he constantly says, "Pause it. I need to tell you something." He always needs to tell someone his current thoughts. It gets old fast.
Being Luke's Mama means I pray hard all the time that he will not be made fun of or hurt at school for being smarter than everyone. He cannot help it. He is the way God made him. But children are cruel. How do I explain to him that it's a good thing to be so smart?
Luke is a blessing. I'm glad to be his Mama. It's hard. And it's worth it.
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
There's a First Time for Everything
Do you record the Firsts in yours and your children's lives? We do. First smile...first step...first word...first day of school, etc...
What about the Seconds? Thirds? Forty-Sevenths? I just think that sometimes the first time is the easy one. It's often easy to go to school on that first day. You're excited. You have new school clothes and supplies. You're eager to see your friends. You love your first day! What about 6 weeks down the road? Still excited? Still eager? It's harder to get up and go, isn't it?
I think it's easy to go church when you're out on your own for the first time. You're excited to be your own person and go to church as an adult. But doesn't it get harder after awhile when you have a new life and realize that you are in charge of you and no one's there to make you go?
The first time you start a diet and exercise plan, you are gung-ho! Yes! Healthy! Exercise! Sweat! No sugar! Woo-Hoo! I'm a hero! Day fifteen? Ugh. Good grief. Not seeing any difference. Craving a Snickers. Hating this stupid diet. Don't want to run today.
I know the Firsts are exciting, but let's try to recognize, notice, praise, and reward those Thirds and Fifteenths and Seventy-Fourths sometimes too. Have you thanked your husband/wife for going to work everyday? They do it and they'll keep doing it but I'll bet they're often not excited about it. Recognition and appreciation go a long way. Congratulate your children for going to school on the eightieth day. I guarantee it will spur them on to attend several days afterward with energy.
Happy Second Day of School to my children today! Happy Twelfth Year of work to my husband! Way to keep going after the excitement of the First wore off!
What about the Seconds? Thirds? Forty-Sevenths? I just think that sometimes the first time is the easy one. It's often easy to go to school on that first day. You're excited. You have new school clothes and supplies. You're eager to see your friends. You love your first day! What about 6 weeks down the road? Still excited? Still eager? It's harder to get up and go, isn't it?
I think it's easy to go church when you're out on your own for the first time. You're excited to be your own person and go to church as an adult. But doesn't it get harder after awhile when you have a new life and realize that you are in charge of you and no one's there to make you go?
The first time you start a diet and exercise plan, you are gung-ho! Yes! Healthy! Exercise! Sweat! No sugar! Woo-Hoo! I'm a hero! Day fifteen? Ugh. Good grief. Not seeing any difference. Craving a Snickers. Hating this stupid diet. Don't want to run today.
I know the Firsts are exciting, but let's try to recognize, notice, praise, and reward those Thirds and Fifteenths and Seventy-Fourths sometimes too. Have you thanked your husband/wife for going to work everyday? They do it and they'll keep doing it but I'll bet they're often not excited about it. Recognition and appreciation go a long way. Congratulate your children for going to school on the eightieth day. I guarantee it will spur them on to attend several days afterward with energy.
Happy Second Day of School to my children today! Happy Twelfth Year of work to my husband! Way to keep going after the excitement of the First wore off!
Monday, July 29, 2013
Swirlies, and Other Nerd Phenomenon
Here it is! Luke's big appointment! I'm sorry to just now be blogging about this when the appointment was Friday. It's been pretty busy around here (when is it not?). Trust me, however, this is worth the wait. And this will be my point of view, so it may seem that Mark didn't say much or play an active role here... but he did. This, like I said, is just my account.
We were blessed to see Dr. Ron Clements. Have you heard of him? You will. He's very good at what he does. It's encouraging to see someone doing what they so obviously were meant to be doing. He is a young man, full of joy, and shows energy and interest in the child he is working with. Mark and I liked him immediately.
We were ushered into his office and asked to sit on the cushy furniture. Luke was still for just a second. He picks up on the energy in a room and runs with it. If it's a sad place, he will literally crawl up into a ball and cry. If it's a happy place, he will dance and be silly. In Dr. Clements' office, he sat down, stood up, sat down, stood back up and then walked over to Dr. Clements and gave him a hug. Dr. Clements smiled, hugged him back, and said, "Yeah! I like you, Luke. Thanks so much for the hug!" Luke responded with, "You're welcome. I like all three of your paintings." I realized how random this was, but Dr. Clements didn't miss a beat. He looked around his office as if he was also a newcomer here and said, "There are in fact three paintings. Yes. They're kinda nice." I thought, "Oh my word. There's two of them! Dr. Clements is a Luke!" :)
Dr. C smiled the entire visit. It wasn't a creepy smile. It wasn't a fake smile. It was part of the man. He truly is full of joy. He began the "official" visit with, "Luke, I see you've brought some interesting people with you today. Do you know them or did they just follow you in?"
Luke said, "Yes, [giggle] that's my mom and that's my dad." (for the rest of the visit, we were "mom" and "dad" to Dr. C, even though we'd already shaken hands and offered first names all around...he introduced himself as Ron.) Dr. C continued to address only Luke for the next little while. He would say, "Luke, I'd like to ask you some questions. Is that okay? And is it okay if Mom and Dad jump in with anything at anytime?"
Luke had yet to sit back down and was instead inspecting everything in the office [I told him to sit down but "Ron" said, "He's okay, Mom. Or...whatever your rules are. But he's fine"]. He answered every question clearly...but rarely was he still while he did it. It's no wonder every doctor always goes straight to ADD...except Dr. C. He seemed instinctively to recognize an inquisitive soul and allowed Luke to roam and touch and look and learn to his heart's content. Dr. C himself was quite the multi-tasker. He sat on an exercise ball at a small desk with a laptop (that he was actively using) and held a pen and several papers (we realized in time that these were all the different reports from all the doctors we'd visited thus far). Here's the cool part. I never once felt he wasn't paying attention to all three of us. In fact, quite the opposite. I was distinctly aware of the fact that he was taking in far more than our words. Our body language, facial expressions, hand gestures, and silent looks did not escape his keen eye.
At one point, I had the chance to let my eyes wander along his "victory" wall...that place where doctors display their diploma and medical license. I didn't have the chance however to read every single degree. Too many. They were also, I noticed, not ostentatiously framed. Just hung mater-of-factly as a part of the office décor. I thought maybe he hung them to prove that, as young as he is, he really does have the credentials to do what he's doing. And, perhaps I should qualify "young". Because I get older, "younger" gets older too. He was probably mid-forties. I guess with all the hype we'd heard about him, I just assumed he was an older man who had been doing this for ages and ages.
Good grief, I'm sorry...this blog is turning into a saga. I'll get to the fun part and be done.
Luke's super smart. That's it in a nutshell. Yes, we knew that. But, now we know it from a super-credentialed doctor. So there. Ha. But how does that help us? Well, that's kind of what Dr. C asked us. He finally said, "What brought you to me? Why are we here?" We explained that our son (who was now riding the exercise bike in the corner, pressing buttons, laughing to himself, and gaining Dr. C's full approval and affection) was a sad little boy. It was an ironic moment. I started to reiterate his sadness but Dr. C said, "I get it. Depression. Anxiety." I thought, "But he's not acting that way right now...so are you just going to take our word for it?"
So I asked him, "He's not acting that way right now so are you just taking our word for it?" (I pretty much say what I think most of the time) Dr. C smiled (and by the way, he has a thousand smiles. They all communicate something... "I know", "that's funny", "you're cute", "I like you", "this is enjoyable", "everything's going to be fine", "I know you didn't mean that but I totally understand what you meant"........). He said, "I get it." And I knew that he did.
Out of nowhere, Dr. C asked, "So which side is his swirly on?" Excuse me? His....swirly?? It took me a second but I looked at Luke and saw that, as normal, his hair was sticking straight up everywhere. I'm quite used to this. And I'm used to other people's comments about it. But I was not expecting this renowned doctor to ask about it...and say "swirly". I said, "Uh, swirly, um...on his, let's see, his left...wait, his....I'm sorry. I don't know." I got Luke off the bike and examined him. I felt that, as his mother, I should know this! Who doesn't know where their son's swirly is?! Wait. Who DOES? So, I shoved Luke to Dr. C and said, "Here. You find it."
He said, "Okay," and dove into Luke's hair with enthusiasm. It was strangely comical. It also was so unlike anything I'd been expecting that I found myself holding back hysterical laughter. Well, he looked. And then he looked some more. Then, I had to make Luke stand still longer because he looked again! What was this about?!
He let go of Luke, sat down on his bouncy-ball and began typing, writing, looking at all of us at the same time. And smiling. I said, "What does this mean?"
He stopped. I mean, if you thought you would be disturbed by all of his activity, I assure you that his stillness was more disturbing. He rubbed his face and looked around his office as if searching for an answer. I thought, "Great. Our son has...swirly-head?" (That "Simpson's episode ran through my head where Homer goes to the doctor and doctor examines his head and says, "I'm sorry, Homer, but you have....Homer Simpson Head" and Homer yells, "WHY ME?!")
I said, "You can tell us. What? WHAT?"
He realized he was keeping us on the edge of our seat...I think he might've forgotten for a second that we were still in the room. He said, "No, no, no, it's....it's....well, back a long time ago before MRI machines and other instruments giving us accuracy, we used to look at a person's swirly to see if they were truly left-brained or right-brained. I was interested because Luke's left handed but he took a bite of that cracker with his right hand." !!! We're here for Luke's depression, and the guy's playing around with hair and old philosophy?
He continued. "It's extremely rare. I mean, we read about it and know it's possible but it almost never happens and I've never seen it. Luke has two swirlies. One on each side." (This confirms what I've always known about it being impossible to tame his hair)
Mark said, "Oh, cool. So, he's ambidextrous?"
Dr. C said, "That's possible. But what it really means is that Luke is able to think equally with his left and right brain. Simultaneously and also with equal strength. It's...it's just so rare. Only two or three people ever...this is just so rare." And it confirmed why, on Luke's IQ test, he was a 145 across the board. (at least. remember, he didn't finish the test)
We got Luke a very mild anti-depressant and are on day 3 with it (no side-affects!). But I must say that Dr. C's examination of Luke's head and his revelation of Luke's odd ability to think with his full brain was the highlight of the visit. For Dr. C too. He shook our hands and said, "Mom, keep a Luke journal. He's going to amaze you. And remember me when he's famous!" And he smiled.
And we smiled too. And I don't think we've stopped smiling since. :)
We were blessed to see Dr. Ron Clements. Have you heard of him? You will. He's very good at what he does. It's encouraging to see someone doing what they so obviously were meant to be doing. He is a young man, full of joy, and shows energy and interest in the child he is working with. Mark and I liked him immediately.
We were ushered into his office and asked to sit on the cushy furniture. Luke was still for just a second. He picks up on the energy in a room and runs with it. If it's a sad place, he will literally crawl up into a ball and cry. If it's a happy place, he will dance and be silly. In Dr. Clements' office, he sat down, stood up, sat down, stood back up and then walked over to Dr. Clements and gave him a hug. Dr. Clements smiled, hugged him back, and said, "Yeah! I like you, Luke. Thanks so much for the hug!" Luke responded with, "You're welcome. I like all three of your paintings." I realized how random this was, but Dr. Clements didn't miss a beat. He looked around his office as if he was also a newcomer here and said, "There are in fact three paintings. Yes. They're kinda nice." I thought, "Oh my word. There's two of them! Dr. Clements is a Luke!" :)
Dr. C smiled the entire visit. It wasn't a creepy smile. It wasn't a fake smile. It was part of the man. He truly is full of joy. He began the "official" visit with, "Luke, I see you've brought some interesting people with you today. Do you know them or did they just follow you in?"
Luke said, "Yes, [giggle] that's my mom and that's my dad." (for the rest of the visit, we were "mom" and "dad" to Dr. C, even though we'd already shaken hands and offered first names all around...he introduced himself as Ron.) Dr. C continued to address only Luke for the next little while. He would say, "Luke, I'd like to ask you some questions. Is that okay? And is it okay if Mom and Dad jump in with anything at anytime?"
Luke had yet to sit back down and was instead inspecting everything in the office [I told him to sit down but "Ron" said, "He's okay, Mom. Or...whatever your rules are. But he's fine"]. He answered every question clearly...but rarely was he still while he did it. It's no wonder every doctor always goes straight to ADD...except Dr. C. He seemed instinctively to recognize an inquisitive soul and allowed Luke to roam and touch and look and learn to his heart's content. Dr. C himself was quite the multi-tasker. He sat on an exercise ball at a small desk with a laptop (that he was actively using) and held a pen and several papers (we realized in time that these were all the different reports from all the doctors we'd visited thus far). Here's the cool part. I never once felt he wasn't paying attention to all three of us. In fact, quite the opposite. I was distinctly aware of the fact that he was taking in far more than our words. Our body language, facial expressions, hand gestures, and silent looks did not escape his keen eye.
At one point, I had the chance to let my eyes wander along his "victory" wall...that place where doctors display their diploma and medical license. I didn't have the chance however to read every single degree. Too many. They were also, I noticed, not ostentatiously framed. Just hung mater-of-factly as a part of the office décor. I thought maybe he hung them to prove that, as young as he is, he really does have the credentials to do what he's doing. And, perhaps I should qualify "young". Because I get older, "younger" gets older too. He was probably mid-forties. I guess with all the hype we'd heard about him, I just assumed he was an older man who had been doing this for ages and ages.
Good grief, I'm sorry...this blog is turning into a saga. I'll get to the fun part and be done.
Luke's super smart. That's it in a nutshell. Yes, we knew that. But, now we know it from a super-credentialed doctor. So there. Ha. But how does that help us? Well, that's kind of what Dr. C asked us. He finally said, "What brought you to me? Why are we here?" We explained that our son (who was now riding the exercise bike in the corner, pressing buttons, laughing to himself, and gaining Dr. C's full approval and affection) was a sad little boy. It was an ironic moment. I started to reiterate his sadness but Dr. C said, "I get it. Depression. Anxiety." I thought, "But he's not acting that way right now...so are you just going to take our word for it?"
So I asked him, "He's not acting that way right now so are you just taking our word for it?" (I pretty much say what I think most of the time) Dr. C smiled (and by the way, he has a thousand smiles. They all communicate something... "I know", "that's funny", "you're cute", "I like you", "this is enjoyable", "everything's going to be fine", "I know you didn't mean that but I totally understand what you meant"........). He said, "I get it." And I knew that he did.
Out of nowhere, Dr. C asked, "So which side is his swirly on?" Excuse me? His....swirly?? It took me a second but I looked at Luke and saw that, as normal, his hair was sticking straight up everywhere. I'm quite used to this. And I'm used to other people's comments about it. But I was not expecting this renowned doctor to ask about it...and say "swirly". I said, "Uh, swirly, um...on his, let's see, his left...wait, his....I'm sorry. I don't know." I got Luke off the bike and examined him. I felt that, as his mother, I should know this! Who doesn't know where their son's swirly is?! Wait. Who DOES? So, I shoved Luke to Dr. C and said, "Here. You find it."
He said, "Okay," and dove into Luke's hair with enthusiasm. It was strangely comical. It also was so unlike anything I'd been expecting that I found myself holding back hysterical laughter. Well, he looked. And then he looked some more. Then, I had to make Luke stand still longer because he looked again! What was this about?!
He let go of Luke, sat down on his bouncy-ball and began typing, writing, looking at all of us at the same time. And smiling. I said, "What does this mean?"
He stopped. I mean, if you thought you would be disturbed by all of his activity, I assure you that his stillness was more disturbing. He rubbed his face and looked around his office as if searching for an answer. I thought, "Great. Our son has...swirly-head?" (That "Simpson's episode ran through my head where Homer goes to the doctor and doctor examines his head and says, "I'm sorry, Homer, but you have....Homer Simpson Head" and Homer yells, "WHY ME?!")
I said, "You can tell us. What? WHAT?"
He realized he was keeping us on the edge of our seat...I think he might've forgotten for a second that we were still in the room. He said, "No, no, no, it's....it's....well, back a long time ago before MRI machines and other instruments giving us accuracy, we used to look at a person's swirly to see if they were truly left-brained or right-brained. I was interested because Luke's left handed but he took a bite of that cracker with his right hand." !!! We're here for Luke's depression, and the guy's playing around with hair and old philosophy?
He continued. "It's extremely rare. I mean, we read about it and know it's possible but it almost never happens and I've never seen it. Luke has two swirlies. One on each side." (This confirms what I've always known about it being impossible to tame his hair)
Mark said, "Oh, cool. So, he's ambidextrous?"
Dr. C said, "That's possible. But what it really means is that Luke is able to think equally with his left and right brain. Simultaneously and also with equal strength. It's...it's just so rare. Only two or three people ever...this is just so rare." And it confirmed why, on Luke's IQ test, he was a 145 across the board. (at least. remember, he didn't finish the test)
We got Luke a very mild anti-depressant and are on day 3 with it (no side-affects!). But I must say that Dr. C's examination of Luke's head and his revelation of Luke's odd ability to think with his full brain was the highlight of the visit. For Dr. C too. He shook our hands and said, "Mom, keep a Luke journal. He's going to amaze you. And remember me when he's famous!" And he smiled.
And we smiled too. And I don't think we've stopped smiling since. :)
Thursday, July 25, 2013
You're Not The Man I Married (or, I Don't Even Know You Anymore)
When Mark and I were dating, we were different people. Not just different from each other, but different from who we are now. I think this is probably the way it most commonly happens. The frustration is thinking that it SHOULDN'T happen. How many times have you, or someone you know, said, "My husband is just not the same as when we got married." What about, "I don't really know him anymore." And my LEAST favorite, "We're just not in love anymore."
I am so sorry no one prepared you for this. I am so sorry that you were allowed to commit yourself in marriage with the belief that you were playing in some Disney movie or Harlequin romance. I don't think it's everyone else's responsibility to clue you in on this, but it does help if they do. In case they didn't and you find yourself now faced with a marriage relationship that not only falls short of your dreams, but also leaves you feeling claustrophobic and itching for the door, I just want to assure you that you're normal. This is a phase. It WILL pass. It will. The question is not whether or not it will pass, it is whether or not you will hang in there until it does. I hope you do.
Let me get back to Mark and me. When Mark and I were dating, I had a strange way of being emotionally strong. If Mark had doubts about our relationship, I would smile, assure I him I had no doubts, and say, "If you want to break up with me, then that's fine. Call me when you change your mind." He was always immediately comforted and we would stay together or be back together in no time.
After we were married, this was not the case. For some reason unknown to the both of us, I became an emotional wreck! In fact it was on our honeymoon that I first showed signs of emotional weakness. I threw a fit (a tantrum!) for some reason I can't even remember now and I remember the look on Mark's face...it clearly said, "What in the WORLD have I gotten myself into?!" I remember this lasting for a few weeks until we took action. I saw a doctor and was prescribed anti-anxiety medication.
Now those of you who follow my soap-opera-life know that I am a survivor of childhood trauma. What was happening in those early weeks of marriage was my coping skills in action; I had encountered a trigger and was losing my cool. I didn't know this at the time, however, and was so confused as to what in the world was wrong with me. I got mad at every little thing and even at things that didn't exist!
This went on for the next five years. Several different medications, two children, three surgeries, and five houses later, things started mellowing out. Yes. It went on for that long. And Mark hung in there. Ladies and gentlemen, although this does not describe my shining moment in this marriage (I'm still waiting for that moment to happen), it is the truth. I believe in truth as a healing factor in all our lives so I'm sharing this WITH you, FOR you.
During my bouts with anxiety, depression, anger, and all-around ickiness, I called Mark names, yelled for no reason, left (never was gone for more than 10 minutes), yelled some more, blamed, accused, embarrassed, ignored, and sorely hurt my husband. There were happy moments but they were short lived. In all honesty I don't remember a lot of what went on. It was a cloudy, gray, low time for me. It was even more awful for Mark I'm sure. He had married me. He was stuck with me.
In today's society, people have divorced for much less than a depressed and angry spouse. Mark would've been accepted and even pat on the back for leaving me, I'm sure. And I deserved to be left. I deserved to be committed to an institution. He stayed anyway.
But, listen to this...he more than stayed. I'm going to say that again. He more than stayed. He loved me. He may not have FELT loving toward me, but he loved me. He decided every morning to remain committed to the promise he'd made to me before God to love me in sickness and in health, for better or worse. This was surely sick and worse. When I say he loved me, I don't mean he spoke lovingly to me, held me, told me it was all okay....that came, but much later.
The first thing he did by loving me was to remain my husband. He never once threatened to leave me. In fact, in the middle of one of my tirades, I remember him saying, "I'M NOT LEAVING YOU!" I realize now that he wasn't talking to me really. I believe he was yelling this for his own benefit. He was re-committing. Because sometimes we have to do that...re-commit. He was telling himself that he wasn't leaving because perhaps he'd just needed to re-decide that at that moment. It ALWAYS helped me. Always. Even if I yelled back, "WHY NOT?! I WANT YOU TO!" (which I probably did) He wouldn't leave.
The second thing he did by loving me was to pray for me. He prayed for himself, probably minute by minute, but I know for a fact he prayed for me. I remember once waking to the sound of his voice. We'd had a nasty argument (well, is it an argument if only one person is screaming and the other is just sitting silently?) and I'd stomped off to bed. Anyway, I woke up to Mark's whispering in my ear. He hadn't intended to wake me and I never told him he did. He was saying, "And, Lord, please ease her pain. Please give her peace. Please heal her. Please let her know she is loved." !!!! This also helped me. He may not have seen a difference in me right away, but I committed that night, that moment, to get well. And I began actively working on it....whether he knew it at that time or not.
The third thing Mark did by loving me was to let things go. Mark did not throw the past up in my face. He had the wisdom to know that it would have made things worse, not better, if he had done so. Instead, he welcomed me with open arms every time, EVERY TIME, I was "over myself" and ready for a hug. EVERY TIME I apologized to him, he forgave me. He didn't lord it over me. He didn't act as if he deserved the apology. He didn't punish me. He forgave me. He would ALWAYS hug me. He would ALWAYS smile. And he was ALWAYS up for whatever I felt like doing whether he had the time or not. To say this helped me is an understatement. If he had not been so full of grace and forgiveness, I would've stopped apologizing. Instead, I worked even harder to heal the anger inside me.
The fourth thing Mark did by loving me was remaining faithful to God. He couldn't have known how much this helped me. There were intense moments where I didn't want to go to church or even be around my church friends. I stopped reading my Bible for a time and didn't even want to pray. Mark, however, never stopped. And on top of that, he NEVER made me feel guilty for this. He simply asked me, "Do you feel up to going to church with the kids and me this morning?" If I said no, he would kiss my forehead and say, "Okay. No worries. We'll miss you but I hope you can get some rest." People, this took the burden of "churching" my children off my shoulders and let me have this time to do battle. I needed to know that Mark and the kids had their spiritual lives in hand so that I could wrangle mine back from the Evil One. I don't believe I would ever have been able to do it if his spiritual life had fallen away as well.
Mark never preached to me or pointed out happy couples to me or told me how he wished I would change. Because of his patience, kindness, love, forgiveness, joy, peace, self-control, goodness, thankfulness, and gentleness, my journey into darkness was short-lived. Oh, it didn't seem so short at the time. It seemed relentless and never-ending. But it wasn't. And God wasn't patiently waiting at the end, like Mark was. Mark was at the end of the tunnel waiting for me to dig my way out to him. God, however, was digging right beside me, and sometimes FOR me, during the entire pilgrimage. God never gave up on me. He never will.
I don't deserve God's patience and grace and love. But He gives it to me without limit. In being Christ to me, Mark has given me the same. Mark didn't deserve how I treated him. He could've walked away so many times (and to this day I'm sure he thought seriously about it!). But he had promised to stay. That promise encompassed all that kept him with me. Endurance. Faith. Perseverance. Faith. Faith. Faith. Love. Grace. Did I mention faith? When Mark promised to stay with me, he wasn't promising me. He was promising God.
I'm happy to tell you that, several medications, doctors, therapy, and prayers later, I'm no longer prone to anger. Mark and I are happy...no...we're better than that. We're content. We are at peace. We love each other and the beauty of that love is knowing that we will love each other no matter what.
It is not a question of whether or not hard times will come, it is a matter of your commitment when they do. When you take your vows and say that you will love each other in sickness and in health, you are not saying "If you get sick, I'll love you". You're saying, "WHEN you get sick I'll love you." Love is a choice. It is a commitment. It is not a mushy-gushy feeling.
{I am not preaching to anyone here. I have friends who are divorced and/or going through divorce. I have friends in seemingly loveless marriages. This was mine and Mark's journey and, as you surely know by now, I see my life as a ministry and only share it to help where it can help.}
I am so sorry no one prepared you for this. I am so sorry that you were allowed to commit yourself in marriage with the belief that you were playing in some Disney movie or Harlequin romance. I don't think it's everyone else's responsibility to clue you in on this, but it does help if they do. In case they didn't and you find yourself now faced with a marriage relationship that not only falls short of your dreams, but also leaves you feeling claustrophobic and itching for the door, I just want to assure you that you're normal. This is a phase. It WILL pass. It will. The question is not whether or not it will pass, it is whether or not you will hang in there until it does. I hope you do.
Let me get back to Mark and me. When Mark and I were dating, I had a strange way of being emotionally strong. If Mark had doubts about our relationship, I would smile, assure I him I had no doubts, and say, "If you want to break up with me, then that's fine. Call me when you change your mind." He was always immediately comforted and we would stay together or be back together in no time.
After we were married, this was not the case. For some reason unknown to the both of us, I became an emotional wreck! In fact it was on our honeymoon that I first showed signs of emotional weakness. I threw a fit (a tantrum!) for some reason I can't even remember now and I remember the look on Mark's face...it clearly said, "What in the WORLD have I gotten myself into?!" I remember this lasting for a few weeks until we took action. I saw a doctor and was prescribed anti-anxiety medication.
Now those of you who follow my soap-opera-life know that I am a survivor of childhood trauma. What was happening in those early weeks of marriage was my coping skills in action; I had encountered a trigger and was losing my cool. I didn't know this at the time, however, and was so confused as to what in the world was wrong with me. I got mad at every little thing and even at things that didn't exist!
This went on for the next five years. Several different medications, two children, three surgeries, and five houses later, things started mellowing out. Yes. It went on for that long. And Mark hung in there. Ladies and gentlemen, although this does not describe my shining moment in this marriage (I'm still waiting for that moment to happen), it is the truth. I believe in truth as a healing factor in all our lives so I'm sharing this WITH you, FOR you.
During my bouts with anxiety, depression, anger, and all-around ickiness, I called Mark names, yelled for no reason, left (never was gone for more than 10 minutes), yelled some more, blamed, accused, embarrassed, ignored, and sorely hurt my husband. There were happy moments but they were short lived. In all honesty I don't remember a lot of what went on. It was a cloudy, gray, low time for me. It was even more awful for Mark I'm sure. He had married me. He was stuck with me.
In today's society, people have divorced for much less than a depressed and angry spouse. Mark would've been accepted and even pat on the back for leaving me, I'm sure. And I deserved to be left. I deserved to be committed to an institution. He stayed anyway.
But, listen to this...he more than stayed. I'm going to say that again. He more than stayed. He loved me. He may not have FELT loving toward me, but he loved me. He decided every morning to remain committed to the promise he'd made to me before God to love me in sickness and in health, for better or worse. This was surely sick and worse. When I say he loved me, I don't mean he spoke lovingly to me, held me, told me it was all okay....that came, but much later.
The first thing he did by loving me was to remain my husband. He never once threatened to leave me. In fact, in the middle of one of my tirades, I remember him saying, "I'M NOT LEAVING YOU!" I realize now that he wasn't talking to me really. I believe he was yelling this for his own benefit. He was re-committing. Because sometimes we have to do that...re-commit. He was telling himself that he wasn't leaving because perhaps he'd just needed to re-decide that at that moment. It ALWAYS helped me. Always. Even if I yelled back, "WHY NOT?! I WANT YOU TO!" (which I probably did) He wouldn't leave.
The second thing he did by loving me was to pray for me. He prayed for himself, probably minute by minute, but I know for a fact he prayed for me. I remember once waking to the sound of his voice. We'd had a nasty argument (well, is it an argument if only one person is screaming and the other is just sitting silently?) and I'd stomped off to bed. Anyway, I woke up to Mark's whispering in my ear. He hadn't intended to wake me and I never told him he did. He was saying, "And, Lord, please ease her pain. Please give her peace. Please heal her. Please let her know she is loved." !!!! This also helped me. He may not have seen a difference in me right away, but I committed that night, that moment, to get well. And I began actively working on it....whether he knew it at that time or not.
The third thing Mark did by loving me was to let things go. Mark did not throw the past up in my face. He had the wisdom to know that it would have made things worse, not better, if he had done so. Instead, he welcomed me with open arms every time, EVERY TIME, I was "over myself" and ready for a hug. EVERY TIME I apologized to him, he forgave me. He didn't lord it over me. He didn't act as if he deserved the apology. He didn't punish me. He forgave me. He would ALWAYS hug me. He would ALWAYS smile. And he was ALWAYS up for whatever I felt like doing whether he had the time or not. To say this helped me is an understatement. If he had not been so full of grace and forgiveness, I would've stopped apologizing. Instead, I worked even harder to heal the anger inside me.
The fourth thing Mark did by loving me was remaining faithful to God. He couldn't have known how much this helped me. There were intense moments where I didn't want to go to church or even be around my church friends. I stopped reading my Bible for a time and didn't even want to pray. Mark, however, never stopped. And on top of that, he NEVER made me feel guilty for this. He simply asked me, "Do you feel up to going to church with the kids and me this morning?" If I said no, he would kiss my forehead and say, "Okay. No worries. We'll miss you but I hope you can get some rest." People, this took the burden of "churching" my children off my shoulders and let me have this time to do battle. I needed to know that Mark and the kids had their spiritual lives in hand so that I could wrangle mine back from the Evil One. I don't believe I would ever have been able to do it if his spiritual life had fallen away as well.
Mark never preached to me or pointed out happy couples to me or told me how he wished I would change. Because of his patience, kindness, love, forgiveness, joy, peace, self-control, goodness, thankfulness, and gentleness, my journey into darkness was short-lived. Oh, it didn't seem so short at the time. It seemed relentless and never-ending. But it wasn't. And God wasn't patiently waiting at the end, like Mark was. Mark was at the end of the tunnel waiting for me to dig my way out to him. God, however, was digging right beside me, and sometimes FOR me, during the entire pilgrimage. God never gave up on me. He never will.
I don't deserve God's patience and grace and love. But He gives it to me without limit. In being Christ to me, Mark has given me the same. Mark didn't deserve how I treated him. He could've walked away so many times (and to this day I'm sure he thought seriously about it!). But he had promised to stay. That promise encompassed all that kept him with me. Endurance. Faith. Perseverance. Faith. Faith. Faith. Love. Grace. Did I mention faith? When Mark promised to stay with me, he wasn't promising me. He was promising God.
I'm happy to tell you that, several medications, doctors, therapy, and prayers later, I'm no longer prone to anger. Mark and I are happy...no...we're better than that. We're content. We are at peace. We love each other and the beauty of that love is knowing that we will love each other no matter what.
It is not a question of whether or not hard times will come, it is a matter of your commitment when they do. When you take your vows and say that you will love each other in sickness and in health, you are not saying "If you get sick, I'll love you". You're saying, "WHEN you get sick I'll love you." Love is a choice. It is a commitment. It is not a mushy-gushy feeling.
{I am not preaching to anyone here. I have friends who are divorced and/or going through divorce. I have friends in seemingly loveless marriages. This was mine and Mark's journey and, as you surely know by now, I see my life as a ministry and only share it to help where it can help.}
Thursday, July 11, 2013
If At First....
We're back from our 4th of July Vacation and all is well. We had a wonderful time with family who are also our friends and feel encouraged by their company. Now, we are busy!! The children started swim lessons Monday and Maggie immediately noticed the Cats swim team practicing in the lanes. She asked one of the coaches what she would have to do to be part of the team and was told she must swim freestyle the length of the pool and backstroke back. She asked if she might try it and was encouraged to jump in.
She didn't make it. She almost made it, but didn't. She had to hang on to the side and breath a bit before continuing her freestyle. She did the backstroke beautifully but it wasn't enough. No go. She was told that she could try again anytime. I was heartbroken. She'd wanted this so badly. And she'd looked so tiny in that huge pool. It takes my breath away how tiny she is sometimes. But anyway...
So, Maggie went back to her swim class and asked her teacher to specifically work with her on breathing. She did. Ten minutes later, Maggie went back to the swim team coach and asked to try again. The coach was surprised but willing. Maggie jumped in and began to swim. She didn't make it. She almost made it, but didn't. I was ready to hold her...thinking about what cookies we might need to bake that afternoon to heal the wounds. But she didn't come to me...she went straight back to her swim class.
Ten minutes later, she was back at the swim coach. This time, the coach was smiling and cheered her on. Maggie jumped in and swam the freestyle the entire length of the pool and then backstroked back without stopping. I had sorely underestimated my daughter. She has more tenacity, perseverance, and umph than I ever did! She was like the Energizer Bunny! (only not annoying)!
The swim coach told her she hadn't officially made the team but if she'd work on her breathing she'd soon make it. Maggie went straight back over to her swim class and this time the teacher was ready to give her tips and encouragement in meeting her goal. She worked hard until the end of class.
The next day, Maggie watched longingly as the girls on the swim team swam their laps. She went to her class and did her breathing exercises and whatever else her teacher had her do. During the last ten minutes of class she asked if she could swim with the swim team and was told yes (this is a very encouraging group!). As the practice came to an end, the swim coach told her she could practice with the swim team the next day if she wanted. She wanted!
The third day, Maggie swam laps, did different exercises and jumped off the block (perhaps not as gracefully as she'd hoped). She kept up with the other girls and had a blast. At the end of practice, the coach said, "Great job, Maggie. Welcome to the team. Our first meet is Friday."
If she had given up after that first try, she never would've known her potential. Even trying a second time was met with failure. Even a third time, though gaining encouragement, did not meet with immediate results. But she didn't give up. She kept trying and trying and trying. Between tries, she worked toward success. She completely blew me away. She would NOT give up! She wanted on the team and she GOT on the team!
I am so proud of her. She has taught me much in her 10 years of life. I imagine there's more to come.
She didn't make it. She almost made it, but didn't. She had to hang on to the side and breath a bit before continuing her freestyle. She did the backstroke beautifully but it wasn't enough. No go. She was told that she could try again anytime. I was heartbroken. She'd wanted this so badly. And she'd looked so tiny in that huge pool. It takes my breath away how tiny she is sometimes. But anyway...
So, Maggie went back to her swim class and asked her teacher to specifically work with her on breathing. She did. Ten minutes later, Maggie went back to the swim team coach and asked to try again. The coach was surprised but willing. Maggie jumped in and began to swim. She didn't make it. She almost made it, but didn't. I was ready to hold her...thinking about what cookies we might need to bake that afternoon to heal the wounds. But she didn't come to me...she went straight back to her swim class.
Ten minutes later, she was back at the swim coach. This time, the coach was smiling and cheered her on. Maggie jumped in and swam the freestyle the entire length of the pool and then backstroked back without stopping. I had sorely underestimated my daughter. She has more tenacity, perseverance, and umph than I ever did! She was like the Energizer Bunny! (only not annoying)!
The swim coach told her she hadn't officially made the team but if she'd work on her breathing she'd soon make it. Maggie went straight back over to her swim class and this time the teacher was ready to give her tips and encouragement in meeting her goal. She worked hard until the end of class.
The next day, Maggie watched longingly as the girls on the swim team swam their laps. She went to her class and did her breathing exercises and whatever else her teacher had her do. During the last ten minutes of class she asked if she could swim with the swim team and was told yes (this is a very encouraging group!). As the practice came to an end, the swim coach told her she could practice with the swim team the next day if she wanted. She wanted!
The third day, Maggie swam laps, did different exercises and jumped off the block (perhaps not as gracefully as she'd hoped). She kept up with the other girls and had a blast. At the end of practice, the coach said, "Great job, Maggie. Welcome to the team. Our first meet is Friday."
If she had given up after that first try, she never would've known her potential. Even trying a second time was met with failure. Even a third time, though gaining encouragement, did not meet with immediate results. But she didn't give up. She kept trying and trying and trying. Between tries, she worked toward success. She completely blew me away. She would NOT give up! She wanted on the team and she GOT on the team!
I am so proud of her. She has taught me much in her 10 years of life. I imagine there's more to come.
Friday, June 28, 2013
Luke, Little Rock, and Prayers
Mark was out of town. Of course. Isn't it always that way? I was sick Wednesday and Thursday. Of course. And Friday, today, I loaded up the kids, picked up printed out directions from Mark's office (Thank you, Paula!), drove to my friend's office to borrow her GPS (Thank you, Kim!) and then we were on our way. Well, I hadn't slept but a few hours the night before (nerves and still didn't feel well and Mark was gone) so I drove through McD's and got coffee. THEN we were on our way. Luke had a very important appointment with a doctor in Little Rock who specializes in testing, rating and assessing children in order to diagnose anything from Autism to ADD. I was a nervous wreck.
We've had three appointments with a therapist here in Searcy and have felt pretty good so far with the progress we've seen. Luke is smart. He's creative and funny and handsome and sweet. And he has more moments of uncertainty and sadness than joy every single day. He is constantly worried about not being good enough (smart enough, cute enough, sweet enough, etc...). He is concerned that he is letting everyone down and he vocalizes his anger at letting himself down more times than I count during each day. Mark and I have exhausted our resources and have, through much prayer and support, begun to reach out into the possibility of medical answers. (And again, I must give credit to Kathryn for putting us on this trail)
Luke's therapist has told us that, yes Luke is precious and smart, and he has a terrible habit of negative self-talk. She assured us that, after her observations, she knows this has not come from us or any negative environment. He has initiated this himself and most-likely it was born of high expectations for himself. Luke is a perfectionist. I'm not talking OCD. I'm not talking fear of failure. I'm talking about truly believing that he is stupid and has no talent. It is very frustrating to see him correct mistakes in a math text book, spell seven-syllable words, write a children's book within 30 minutes (complete with illustrations), and study French and then hear him wailing that he's so dumb because he lost a video game....that he is the worst brother in the world....that he is worthless. :(
Today's appointment was all about putting a measurement in place. We need to know exactly what we are dealing with. I've avoided tests and assessments because I don't like labels or putting a person in a box. My brother was put in a box very early on in school by short-minded teachers who were either lazy, ignorant, or both and he began to believe he wasn't smart. He can build computers from trashed parts and reprogram your iphone to sing to you without you realizing he even had it in his hand. He's gifted. And I could single-handedly take to task each of the idiots who trampled all over his genius as a child. So...I have never wanted to have Luke's iq tested. What if he was having an "off" day and scored low (or what some consider low) and lived his life believing what that number said?? I'm terrified of that. I so often struggle with trusting God.
I have always known that I'm a monkey-mom. (This is a mother who believes her child is beautiful but really the child looks like a monkey) I have always known that I see my children as the best, brightest, bla bla bla...I actually believe EVERY mother should be a monkey-mom. But at the same time, I'm an honest mom. I have always believed in keeping things in the Light, facing things head-on, owning the truth of who we are and doing our best to glorify God no matter what that truth is. So, I've lived with the belief that Luke's gifted...but I haven't been ready to actually learn the truth and meet it head-on. Until this negative self-talk began stealing my son's joy. Have I mentioned that I'm also a mama-bear? Don't steal my child's joy. Big mistake.
So. We parked the Jeep and eventually got to the door of the office of this doctor in Little Rock. I won't keep you in suspense. She's wonderful. We love her. We felt at home with her right away. And she proved her credentials in a very short time. She also fell in love with Luke (see? Monkey-mom) so she had me with no strings.
She and I talked for an hour and a half. Not coffee-talk. She drilled me. She asked me about Luke, beginning with conception. I'm not kidding. It felt good to just talk about my child without worrying that I sounded like I was bragging. What mama doesn't enjoy talking about her child? She took feverish notes the whole time. I cried while I confessed that Mark and I are at a loss as to how to help our son. "I've been told over and over that he's super smart...but I don't even care anymore about that! I just want him happy!" She assured me she was going to test his i.q. but then also test everything else. Social, cognitive, mental, emotional, etc...
And she did. And Luke had a meltdown. And then it was just the doctor and me in the office again. (She had a great playroom for the kids) She said, "That poor baby. He's depressed." I said, "I know! He's so sad!" She said, "No, I mean I'm diagnosing him. He's chemically depressed." I started crying. Because I know that chemical depression is genetic. I've given this to my child. She smiled (while passing me the tissues again) and said, "This is good news. Chemical depression is fixable. We have great medications." We talked about this for a bit and then she said, "Have I even told you about his tests?"
She said, "I cannot call your son a genius." Deflation. Then disappointment in myself for being deflated. She continued, "I was taught that the meaning of the word "genius" is having a high intellectual capacity in a certain subject. Your son has a high intellectual capacity in every subject. So I'd call him gifted. Your son his scary-smart. And he didn't finish his test. He had his meltdown before we completed it so I only have a partial reading. From that reading, I can tell you without a doubt he is in the 99 percentile of his age in every subject. This means that if we lined up 100 children, he'd be smarter than 99 of them."
Wow.
"But," she continued (and did I just hear that other shoe drop?) "Until we get his depression taken care of, he will not be able to do anything with his gift. He is frozen. This poor baby has no joy." She talked to me about his abilities...it blew my mind. She began telling me about a special school in Colorado that only takes the smartest of the smart and how they would love to have him. I was quite overwhelmed. The heartbreak of it all is this depression.
So, we are on the road to medication. It takes a bit of red tape and doctor's signatures before the pill actually goes down the hatch, but we've started the process and believe that within a month's time, we will have a different child on our hands (in a good way).
I am humbled. I am relieved. I am exhausted. I am going out in a few minutes to buy pizza. Mark just flew in. We leave tomorrow for a vacation with Mark's family in Iowa. My cup runneth over. In fact, my life is blessed more than I have the capacity to grasp or express.
Thanks for tagging along on this journey. To be continued....
We've had three appointments with a therapist here in Searcy and have felt pretty good so far with the progress we've seen. Luke is smart. He's creative and funny and handsome and sweet. And he has more moments of uncertainty and sadness than joy every single day. He is constantly worried about not being good enough (smart enough, cute enough, sweet enough, etc...). He is concerned that he is letting everyone down and he vocalizes his anger at letting himself down more times than I count during each day. Mark and I have exhausted our resources and have, through much prayer and support, begun to reach out into the possibility of medical answers. (And again, I must give credit to Kathryn for putting us on this trail)
Luke's therapist has told us that, yes Luke is precious and smart, and he has a terrible habit of negative self-talk. She assured us that, after her observations, she knows this has not come from us or any negative environment. He has initiated this himself and most-likely it was born of high expectations for himself. Luke is a perfectionist. I'm not talking OCD. I'm not talking fear of failure. I'm talking about truly believing that he is stupid and has no talent. It is very frustrating to see him correct mistakes in a math text book, spell seven-syllable words, write a children's book within 30 minutes (complete with illustrations), and study French and then hear him wailing that he's so dumb because he lost a video game....that he is the worst brother in the world....that he is worthless. :(
Today's appointment was all about putting a measurement in place. We need to know exactly what we are dealing with. I've avoided tests and assessments because I don't like labels or putting a person in a box. My brother was put in a box very early on in school by short-minded teachers who were either lazy, ignorant, or both and he began to believe he wasn't smart. He can build computers from trashed parts and reprogram your iphone to sing to you without you realizing he even had it in his hand. He's gifted. And I could single-handedly take to task each of the idiots who trampled all over his genius as a child. So...I have never wanted to have Luke's iq tested. What if he was having an "off" day and scored low (or what some consider low) and lived his life believing what that number said?? I'm terrified of that. I so often struggle with trusting God.
I have always known that I'm a monkey-mom. (This is a mother who believes her child is beautiful but really the child looks like a monkey) I have always known that I see my children as the best, brightest, bla bla bla...I actually believe EVERY mother should be a monkey-mom. But at the same time, I'm an honest mom. I have always believed in keeping things in the Light, facing things head-on, owning the truth of who we are and doing our best to glorify God no matter what that truth is. So, I've lived with the belief that Luke's gifted...but I haven't been ready to actually learn the truth and meet it head-on. Until this negative self-talk began stealing my son's joy. Have I mentioned that I'm also a mama-bear? Don't steal my child's joy. Big mistake.
So. We parked the Jeep and eventually got to the door of the office of this doctor in Little Rock. I won't keep you in suspense. She's wonderful. We love her. We felt at home with her right away. And she proved her credentials in a very short time. She also fell in love with Luke (see? Monkey-mom) so she had me with no strings.
She and I talked for an hour and a half. Not coffee-talk. She drilled me. She asked me about Luke, beginning with conception. I'm not kidding. It felt good to just talk about my child without worrying that I sounded like I was bragging. What mama doesn't enjoy talking about her child? She took feverish notes the whole time. I cried while I confessed that Mark and I are at a loss as to how to help our son. "I've been told over and over that he's super smart...but I don't even care anymore about that! I just want him happy!" She assured me she was going to test his i.q. but then also test everything else. Social, cognitive, mental, emotional, etc...
And she did. And Luke had a meltdown. And then it was just the doctor and me in the office again. (She had a great playroom for the kids) She said, "That poor baby. He's depressed." I said, "I know! He's so sad!" She said, "No, I mean I'm diagnosing him. He's chemically depressed." I started crying. Because I know that chemical depression is genetic. I've given this to my child. She smiled (while passing me the tissues again) and said, "This is good news. Chemical depression is fixable. We have great medications." We talked about this for a bit and then she said, "Have I even told you about his tests?"
She said, "I cannot call your son a genius." Deflation. Then disappointment in myself for being deflated. She continued, "I was taught that the meaning of the word "genius" is having a high intellectual capacity in a certain subject. Your son has a high intellectual capacity in every subject. So I'd call him gifted. Your son his scary-smart. And he didn't finish his test. He had his meltdown before we completed it so I only have a partial reading. From that reading, I can tell you without a doubt he is in the 99 percentile of his age in every subject. This means that if we lined up 100 children, he'd be smarter than 99 of them."
Wow.
"But," she continued (and did I just hear that other shoe drop?) "Until we get his depression taken care of, he will not be able to do anything with his gift. He is frozen. This poor baby has no joy." She talked to me about his abilities...it blew my mind. She began telling me about a special school in Colorado that only takes the smartest of the smart and how they would love to have him. I was quite overwhelmed. The heartbreak of it all is this depression.
So, we are on the road to medication. It takes a bit of red tape and doctor's signatures before the pill actually goes down the hatch, but we've started the process and believe that within a month's time, we will have a different child on our hands (in a good way).
I am humbled. I am relieved. I am exhausted. I am going out in a few minutes to buy pizza. Mark just flew in. We leave tomorrow for a vacation with Mark's family in Iowa. My cup runneth over. In fact, my life is blessed more than I have the capacity to grasp or express.
Thanks for tagging along on this journey. To be continued....
Monday, June 24, 2013
Storming the Castle
It's here! The second book in the Hero's Guide series! Woo-Hoo! What else? Well, along with the ones listed last time, I'm back into both the Hannah Swenson series (by Joann Fluke) and the Charlotte LaRue series (by Barbara Colley). These are mysteries. They are what I called "mild" mysteries. Little cursing (don't think there's ANY in the LaRue series) and little sex and have yet to run into homosexuality, or blatant blasphemy. And yet, they're still good! Ha!
The plus of both of these mysteries is what I call the extras. Extras include anything I can learn that I can apply to my own daily life. Anything that makes me feel more positive than negative after reading it. Also, both books always end "right". Know what I mean?
Hannah Swenson (the main character in Joann Fluke's mysteries) is a baker. She owns her own Cookie Shop and includes no less than (and often many more than) ten recipes per book. I've tried some of them and they've all passed with thumbs up! Reading these books inspire me to bake and get creative in the kitchen. I like that. It's a positive feeling while reading. Nice. (First book in the series is "Chocolate Chip Cookie Murder".)
Charlotte LaRue (the main character in Barbara Colley's mysteries) is a maid. In fact, she's a grandmother who owns her own housecleaning business. Not only does reading this book inspire me to clean, it includes GREAT housecleaning tips!! Putting lemon-scented oil on your ceiling fans so the house smells clean every time you run them...genius. Even the order in which she cleans has added to my housecleaning experience. (First book in the series is "Maid for Murder".)
With the Charlotte books, there's another extra. She's a Christian. No, this isn't "Christian Fiction". You won't find it in the "Inspirational" section. But it is...Christian fiction and inspiring. She is so REAL...she's always chastising herself for her negative thoughts. She also committed a sin in her past that she will never forget. It's encouraging to read about a character who struggles with the same things I do. And, even though she's a grandmother and a maid, there's some romance involved...nice, sweet, clean romance.
Well, that does it for this week's book-talk. What are you reading?
The plus of both of these mysteries is what I call the extras. Extras include anything I can learn that I can apply to my own daily life. Anything that makes me feel more positive than negative after reading it. Also, both books always end "right". Know what I mean?
Hannah Swenson (the main character in Joann Fluke's mysteries) is a baker. She owns her own Cookie Shop and includes no less than (and often many more than) ten recipes per book. I've tried some of them and they've all passed with thumbs up! Reading these books inspire me to bake and get creative in the kitchen. I like that. It's a positive feeling while reading. Nice. (First book in the series is "Chocolate Chip Cookie Murder".)
Charlotte LaRue (the main character in Barbara Colley's mysteries) is a maid. In fact, she's a grandmother who owns her own housecleaning business. Not only does reading this book inspire me to clean, it includes GREAT housecleaning tips!! Putting lemon-scented oil on your ceiling fans so the house smells clean every time you run them...genius. Even the order in which she cleans has added to my housecleaning experience. (First book in the series is "Maid for Murder".)
With the Charlotte books, there's another extra. She's a Christian. No, this isn't "Christian Fiction". You won't find it in the "Inspirational" section. But it is...Christian fiction and inspiring. She is so REAL...she's always chastising herself for her negative thoughts. She also committed a sin in her past that she will never forget. It's encouraging to read about a character who struggles with the same things I do. And, even though she's a grandmother and a maid, there's some romance involved...nice, sweet, clean romance.
Well, that does it for this week's book-talk. What are you reading?
Friday, June 21, 2013
Watch Out!
Hello, Dear Friends. Today's view into Mommy Land has us battling the censors. TV-7, TV-PG, TV-7-FV...what does it mean?! What does it mean for our children?
I grew up watching Super Friends, Smurfs, etc...
I was none the worse for it, but they weren't really educational. I mean, yes, I received a moral lesson about being kind to others and good wins over evil and anvils fall on bad guys' heads, but no math or English or science. Still, I never dreamed that one day, I'd have to sift through cartoons to see what was appropriate or not for my children. "Cartoons" should be 'nough said. It's a cartoon...it's safe, right? Not anymore! Good grief.
On the other hand, we have much more educational shows now so watching the old picture-box isn't as mind-numbing as it was when I was a child. This is great news for those of us busy moms who feel guilty sitting the child in front of the television so we can get something done!
I grew up watching Super Friends, Smurfs, etc...
I was none the worse for it, but they weren't really educational. I mean, yes, I received a moral lesson about being kind to others and good wins over evil and anvils fall on bad guys' heads, but no math or English or science. Still, I never dreamed that one day, I'd have to sift through cartoons to see what was appropriate or not for my children. "Cartoons" should be 'nough said. It's a cartoon...it's safe, right? Not anymore! Good grief.
On the other hand, we have much more educational shows now so watching the old picture-box isn't as mind-numbing as it was when I was a child. This is great news for those of us busy moms who feel guilty sitting the child in front of the television so we can get something done!
But how do we know?! Sometimes, there's yuckiness in the middle of the innocent. For example, we were watching Power Puff Girls the other night and there was a flash of a naked man on there. Granted, it was a behind-view, but gross. It was intended to be funny, but where do you draw the line? Is it really funny to see a naked man? No. Not to just pick on the Power Puff Girls, but the very next episode shows a grown woman (amply built) giving romance advice to the girls and using her hands to emphasize her breasts in telling them to "use what they have" to get what they want. Really? This is what it's come to? Bring back the anvils on heads please!
There was a moment where Mark and I looked at each other and raised an eyebrow. When the show was over, we sent the kids to play and talked about it. We decided that, although our kids probably didn't even pick up on it, we didn't want them watching it anymore. Too harsh? Well, here's the question that decided it for us, "Would we invite Jesus to sit and watch this with us?" Um...nope.
Now, being a grown-up (for the most part), I enjoy mysteries...creepy, dark, horrifying, and thrilling. I like them. They are often inappropriate. Please do not think that I only censor for my children and not for myself. I've done a "house-cleaning" job with my selections lately and at first was quite discouraged. I thought, "I love mysteries! How can I enjoy them WITHOUT the dark-ick?!" They're out there. There are some really entertaining shows and books that capture my intellect without harming my spirit.
I challenge you to become what I've been teasingly called by my mama-friends...a "T.V. Nazi". I wear that banner proudly and feel no guilt in telling my kids no to watching things "all their friends" are watching. The peace you feel is wonderful. The message you send your children is this, "I value your soul more than your friendship. You do not have to like me, but in obeying me, you will find a smoother road to purity." I love my kids enough to deny them certain things. I know you do too!
Thursday, June 20, 2013
Being Invisible
Are you a parent? I am. I'm a mama. I can only speak from a mama's perspective but I think it may apply to many positions. I'm taken for granted on a daily basis. Sometimes on an hourly basis. Clean dishes, clean sheets, clean clothes. Food is always available. Soap is ready for your bath. Your broken toys become fixed miraculously, your books get returned to library, you have everything you need for school. Your boo-boos are bandaged, your thirst is quenched, your every whim is anticipated.
Now, I do discipline and train and make aware. But for this post, I'm zeroing in on the "invisible" mama. In fact, you know what? I can't say it better than Nicole Johnson.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9YU0aNAHXP0
She is right on. I sometimes need to watch this and be reminded of who I am and WHY I am. Please read Esther 4:14. That last sentence is golden! Go be who you are!
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
Loving My Sighs and Not My Size
It's started. The exercising. One year ago I had to stop running because my body went into a kind of breakdown. (See The Common Volcano) I thought I'd get back to it within a few months but didn't. Here we are, back to it, and ugh! It's tough! I'll be honest (you KNOW I'll be honest), I am more interested in cute exercise outfits than actually exercising. But, they don't look very cute on a fat body. Gross. Spandex plus cellulite equals please-avert-your-eyes. So, while I'm glad I can still fold my body into my exercise clothes and zip them without too much moaning, I'm still loathe to actually get outside and move.
I recently spent a little over a week in Iowa with my in-laws. There's a treadmill downstairs and I have to walk by it coming and going to my bedroom. It mocked me the entire time I was there. I reasoned that I'd forgotten to pack my tennis-shoes and therefore couldn't run on it! But it just laughed at me anyway. I thought maybe I'd bring them with me next time I visited. That reminded me that the next visit would be July 4th. And I wouldn't be the only one visiting. My beautifully sculpted in-laws would (almost) all be descending onto the property looking thin and radiant and disciplined. I don't want to be the fat one!!!!!
I am endlessly envious of my niece Caroline Pruitt's figure. She curves in all the right places and cinches up in all the right places...she's my ideal shape and I must admit to just sitting and staring at her (not in a creepy way...just in admiration). My niece Elizabeth Pruitt has probably the most self-discipline out of all of us. She is also the thinnest. There's no way I will ever reach her size. That's a little discouraging because I'd really like to borrow some of her clothes! Ha! She and Caroline are not, by far, the only healthy beauties. All of them are trim and proper.
I do not compare myself to anyone under the age of 18. I also cannot compare myself to anyone who has less children than me (Naam and Shao Li, you will always be thinner and in better shape than me!! Asian beauty is not something I even hope to acquire!). I thought about using the excuse of being a mother of three, but Jan Pruitt is a mother of FOUR and is about a SIZE four. And my youngest is six years old. Can't blame my flab on him anymore.
So, yesterday morning, I started out. I walked one street and ran the next, alternating like that for just one lap (or block...three blocks is one mile). Now this is piddly for most of you. But, like my husband always says, "low and slow is the way to go". Today, I alternated for two laps. It wasn't awful. I couldn't feel my legs half-way through my last running stretch. How then do I know I was running? Well, my fat was shaking so I'm pretty sure I was more-than-walking. Tomorrow I will hit the pavement for three laps. A mile! Tomorrow, in my white running pants and turquoise-and-white Adidas shirt, I will be in continuous motion for an entire mile.
I cannot allow myself to think how I used to run two or three miles before daylight in the mornings. I cannot think that I used to wear a size 8 and actually buy clothes in the Jr. section. I cannot think that there are ice cream sandwiches in the freezer right now. I must celebrate the moment.
Celebrate with me, People!
I recently spent a little over a week in Iowa with my in-laws. There's a treadmill downstairs and I have to walk by it coming and going to my bedroom. It mocked me the entire time I was there. I reasoned that I'd forgotten to pack my tennis-shoes and therefore couldn't run on it! But it just laughed at me anyway. I thought maybe I'd bring them with me next time I visited. That reminded me that the next visit would be July 4th. And I wouldn't be the only one visiting. My beautifully sculpted in-laws would (almost) all be descending onto the property looking thin and radiant and disciplined. I don't want to be the fat one!!!!!
I am endlessly envious of my niece Caroline Pruitt's figure. She curves in all the right places and cinches up in all the right places...she's my ideal shape and I must admit to just sitting and staring at her (not in a creepy way...just in admiration). My niece Elizabeth Pruitt has probably the most self-discipline out of all of us. She is also the thinnest. There's no way I will ever reach her size. That's a little discouraging because I'd really like to borrow some of her clothes! Ha! She and Caroline are not, by far, the only healthy beauties. All of them are trim and proper.
I do not compare myself to anyone under the age of 18. I also cannot compare myself to anyone who has less children than me (Naam and Shao Li, you will always be thinner and in better shape than me!! Asian beauty is not something I even hope to acquire!). I thought about using the excuse of being a mother of three, but Jan Pruitt is a mother of FOUR and is about a SIZE four. And my youngest is six years old. Can't blame my flab on him anymore.
So, yesterday morning, I started out. I walked one street and ran the next, alternating like that for just one lap (or block...three blocks is one mile). Now this is piddly for most of you. But, like my husband always says, "low and slow is the way to go". Today, I alternated for two laps. It wasn't awful. I couldn't feel my legs half-way through my last running stretch. How then do I know I was running? Well, my fat was shaking so I'm pretty sure I was more-than-walking. Tomorrow I will hit the pavement for three laps. A mile! Tomorrow, in my white running pants and turquoise-and-white Adidas shirt, I will be in continuous motion for an entire mile.
I cannot allow myself to think how I used to run two or three miles before daylight in the mornings. I cannot think that I used to wear a size 8 and actually buy clothes in the Jr. section. I cannot think that there are ice cream sandwiches in the freezer right now. I must celebrate the moment.
Celebrate with me, People!
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Summer Books for 2013
Sorry I'm late getting this out. Here are my recommendations for books to read this summer...
I'll lay down the rules again for those of you just joining the gang. I give a book 3 strikes before deciding it's worth a read. These can include any of the following: excessive cursing (if it's a children's or family book, ANY cursing is an automatic strike), explicit sex scenes (again, kids' books should have NO sex), blatant blaspheming of God (as an acceptable option...I realize there are villains in books and I allow for that), the bad guy wins (this is never okay. realism I get...and it's real that the good guy wins, so I will not recommend anyone investing time in anything that ends on a negative note), etc... There are other "strike-able" offenses, but I think you get my drift.
The categories in my review are as follows:
Three Strikes: do not read this book
Two Strikes: still worth a read
One Strike: still worth a read
Read Out loud to Your Family
Read After Dark: Creepy and Goose-bumpy
Read With Your Spouse: Not for children/definitely for adults
Sweetest Series
Most Romantic Character
Scariest Villain
Funniest Character
Most Heroic Character
Best True-to-Life Character
Character I relate most to
Home run in each genre
Grand Slam: Overall best book
Three Strikes goes to Janet Evanovich. I know, I know, she's a best seller. I get it. I couldn't get through the first Stephanie Plum book ("One for the Money") because of my own personal experiences. Maybe someday I'll be able to get through the first chapter. Maybe.
Two Strikes: The Ghost Hunter series by Victoria Laurie (the first is "What's a Ghoul to Do?"). There's cursing (no "f" word though). There's also blatant support for homosexuality which I get enough of in real life and don't necessarily want to read about it. Otherwise, these books are good. Starring M.J. Holliday, a psychic-medium who has made it her mission to help grounded spirits (ghosts) cross over, be it to the "good place" or the "bad place". I'm currently on book 4 and, if I've liked them well enough to read three of them, they get at least one thumbs up.
One Strike: "The Spindlers" by Lauren Oliver. The creep-level in this book is off the charts. I'm talking iiiiicky! The reason this is a strike is because it's a children's book. I couldn't get through it. I hate spiders. There's nothing in it that devalues life or anything. It's just too weird and creepy for kids.
Read Out Loud to the Family: "The Hero's Guide to Saving Your Kingdom" by Christopher Healy. This book is uproarious! It has a rare blend of humor that satisfies all ages and all interests. The book gives an intimate look at the "Princes Charming" from favorite fairy tales. You get up close and personal with Cinderella, Snow White, Briar Rose, and more but they are, for once, NOT the stars of the show!
Read After Dark: Carol O'Connell's Mallory series (first one is "Mallory's Oracle"). It doesn't get grittier than these mysteries. The cast of characters are all believable and the plot is deliciously dark.
Read With Your Spouse: The Mark of the Lion series by Francine Rivers. This an "inspirational" book (meaning it was written by a Christian with the intent to inspire Christ-like living). These three books will blow you away. Wish I had three thumbs for this one!!
Sweetest Series: "The Darling Dahlias" by Susan Wittig Albert. Set in the 1930's, these ladies bring the small town of Darling, Alabama to life. They get into all manner of scrapes but are stronger than they think. The first is "The Darling Dahlias and the Cucumber Tree" and your library will have it. You'll smile all the way through it and have a hankering for the simple-life when you're done.
Most Romantic Character: This is a toughy. Romance could be dramatic, funny, safe, etc... I'm going to say that Marcus from "A Voice in the Wind" (the first in the Mark of the Lion series) is most romantic overall. He definitely has to overcome many struggles to find out what love is. Read it!!
Scariest Villain: Hmm...I haven't read too many spine-tingling villain books lately. None of the books I've gone through recently have any bad guys that leave me haunted after I'm done. I'm going to reserve the right to come back to this one later.
Funniest Character. Good grief. It's, hands down, Duncan from "Hero's Guide". This guy is so funny! Christopher Healy did an amazing job with this character and I can't wait for the second book to come out!
Most Heroic Character: Hadassah from the Mark of the Lion series. I know I don't usually choose a girl for Most Heroic but...read it and you're sure to agree. She is off the charts from any hero I've read before.
Most True-to-Life Character: Lucy Stone from the Lucy Stone Mysteries by Leslie Meier (the first is "Mistletoe Murder"). She is so frank and candid. I'm just getting into these but so far (with only one strike for cursing) she's pretty real.
Most Related to: Lucy Stone again. She's happily married with three kids and so overwhelmed with stuff all the time. Sound like anyone you know?
Home run for Mysteries: The Daisy Dalrymple series by Carola Dunn. They're the ultimate English Cozy. Recommended for bubble-bath and candle lights, followed by pajamas and popcorn.
"The Hero's Guide to Saving Your Kingdom" by Christopher Healy. This is absolutely, hands down, without any doubt, the winner of my Grand Slam Book Review! This book literally has it ALL! Family-worthy, yes! Laugh out loud, yes! Keeps your interest, yes! NO STRIKES! I challenge you to read this and find something negative to say (but don't say it to me). This book has me salivating for the next in the series!!!!!!! Gold Star, Christopher Healy!!!
Enjoy your summer reading!
I'll lay down the rules again for those of you just joining the gang. I give a book 3 strikes before deciding it's worth a read. These can include any of the following: excessive cursing (if it's a children's or family book, ANY cursing is an automatic strike), explicit sex scenes (again, kids' books should have NO sex), blatant blaspheming of God (as an acceptable option...I realize there are villains in books and I allow for that), the bad guy wins (this is never okay. realism I get...and it's real that the good guy wins, so I will not recommend anyone investing time in anything that ends on a negative note), etc... There are other "strike-able" offenses, but I think you get my drift.
The categories in my review are as follows:
Three Strikes: do not read this book
Two Strikes: still worth a read
One Strike: still worth a read
Read Out loud to Your Family
Read After Dark: Creepy and Goose-bumpy
Read With Your Spouse: Not for children/definitely for adults
Sweetest Series
Most Romantic Character
Scariest Villain
Funniest Character
Most Heroic Character
Best True-to-Life Character
Character I relate most to
Home run in each genre
Grand Slam: Overall best book
Three Strikes goes to Janet Evanovich. I know, I know, she's a best seller. I get it. I couldn't get through the first Stephanie Plum book ("One for the Money") because of my own personal experiences. Maybe someday I'll be able to get through the first chapter. Maybe.
Two Strikes: The Ghost Hunter series by Victoria Laurie (the first is "What's a Ghoul to Do?"). There's cursing (no "f" word though). There's also blatant support for homosexuality which I get enough of in real life and don't necessarily want to read about it. Otherwise, these books are good. Starring M.J. Holliday, a psychic-medium who has made it her mission to help grounded spirits (ghosts) cross over, be it to the "good place" or the "bad place". I'm currently on book 4 and, if I've liked them well enough to read three of them, they get at least one thumbs up.
One Strike: "The Spindlers" by Lauren Oliver. The creep-level in this book is off the charts. I'm talking iiiiicky! The reason this is a strike is because it's a children's book. I couldn't get through it. I hate spiders. There's nothing in it that devalues life or anything. It's just too weird and creepy for kids.
Read Out Loud to the Family: "The Hero's Guide to Saving Your Kingdom" by Christopher Healy. This book is uproarious! It has a rare blend of humor that satisfies all ages and all interests. The book gives an intimate look at the "Princes Charming" from favorite fairy tales. You get up close and personal with Cinderella, Snow White, Briar Rose, and more but they are, for once, NOT the stars of the show!
Read After Dark: Carol O'Connell's Mallory series (first one is "Mallory's Oracle"). It doesn't get grittier than these mysteries. The cast of characters are all believable and the plot is deliciously dark.
Read With Your Spouse: The Mark of the Lion series by Francine Rivers. This an "inspirational" book (meaning it was written by a Christian with the intent to inspire Christ-like living). These three books will blow you away. Wish I had three thumbs for this one!!
Sweetest Series: "The Darling Dahlias" by Susan Wittig Albert. Set in the 1930's, these ladies bring the small town of Darling, Alabama to life. They get into all manner of scrapes but are stronger than they think. The first is "The Darling Dahlias and the Cucumber Tree" and your library will have it. You'll smile all the way through it and have a hankering for the simple-life when you're done.
Most Romantic Character: This is a toughy. Romance could be dramatic, funny, safe, etc... I'm going to say that Marcus from "A Voice in the Wind" (the first in the Mark of the Lion series) is most romantic overall. He definitely has to overcome many struggles to find out what love is. Read it!!
Scariest Villain: Hmm...I haven't read too many spine-tingling villain books lately. None of the books I've gone through recently have any bad guys that leave me haunted after I'm done. I'm going to reserve the right to come back to this one later.
Funniest Character. Good grief. It's, hands down, Duncan from "Hero's Guide". This guy is so funny! Christopher Healy did an amazing job with this character and I can't wait for the second book to come out!
Most Heroic Character: Hadassah from the Mark of the Lion series. I know I don't usually choose a girl for Most Heroic but...read it and you're sure to agree. She is off the charts from any hero I've read before.
Most True-to-Life Character: Lucy Stone from the Lucy Stone Mysteries by Leslie Meier (the first is "Mistletoe Murder"). She is so frank and candid. I'm just getting into these but so far (with only one strike for cursing) she's pretty real.
Most Related to: Lucy Stone again. She's happily married with three kids and so overwhelmed with stuff all the time. Sound like anyone you know?
Home run for Mysteries: The Daisy Dalrymple series by Carola Dunn. They're the ultimate English Cozy. Recommended for bubble-bath and candle lights, followed by pajamas and popcorn.
"The Hero's Guide to Saving Your Kingdom" by Christopher Healy. This is absolutely, hands down, without any doubt, the winner of my Grand Slam Book Review! This book literally has it ALL! Family-worthy, yes! Laugh out loud, yes! Keeps your interest, yes! NO STRIKES! I challenge you to read this and find something negative to say (but don't say it to me). This book has me salivating for the next in the series!!!!!!! Gold Star, Christopher Healy!!!
Enjoy your summer reading!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
The Fabulous Five
We strive to make memories that will always lead us into the Light
