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Family, Laughter, Lessons, Love, Parenting

The Soundtrack of Parenthood

It’s overwhelming for me to think about a legacy left behind.  I’d rather leave behind a soundtrack.  Like a mixed tape of my life.  The soundtrack to our life with three teenagers and their schedules would give you an eye twitch.  And I know we are not the only ones.

The soundtrack of parenthood is a real doozy.  “I’ll love you forever” lullabies, the soft hymns of rocking those babies, the Barney song and Bob the Builder tied in with a little Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. Then comes the BeeBoop Disney Channel of pre-teens, only to ramp up to lyrics and beats that began the eye twitch.  Although, sometimes when they are sleeping, I’ll sneak in, crawl across their floor and still hear the tune “As long as I’m living, my baby you’ll be.” playing softly.

The days are long and the years are short when your children are in the toddler/younger years.  In the teenage years, the days are brief and the years literally evaporate. I’m not kidding when I tell you that one morning you are dropping your darling freshman off for early morning football practice before the sun rises, and the next second you are taking pictures of him walking the stage at graduation.  Brace yourself momma, this is truth.  All the years of their youth are to be cherished.  Not all stages are enjoyable, but cherish the lesson – thus the moment.  We are so lucky to have them. Continue Reading

Brave, Character, Courage, Courage, Faith, Family, Fear, Grace, Hope, Lessons, Love, Parenting

The journey to a different pasture

I have hesitated in sharing the following writing for almost two years. One reason is respecting the privacy of my child and protecting the safe space to let him grow and mature. Another reason being I didn’t want to give a tiny handful of people the satisfaction of getting a glimpse into our lives. For now, that pride has been worked through and has been replaced by a healthier pride.  A mother’s pride. Continue Reading

Brave, Courage, Family, Gifts, Laughter, Parenting, Pause

Live This Day

May should come with a daily mascara alert.  Also, a personal soul cheerleader reminding you that you can do all the exhausting tasks this month throws on us.

I’m overwhelmed.  Which accurately describes every mother at the end of the school year.  But this year feels different having a senior. Because it is different.  It’s so different.  And dumb. I wish Senior year could have moved as slowly as his Fourth-Grade year – that one was a dousy.

My Momma-Heart is raw.  My brain keeps cheering me on that I can do all the hard things, while my heart is singing Meatloaf lyrics and informing me that it won’t do that.  It doesn’t feel like it can take one more last.  Not when there are so many things that I still need to tell him and teach him.  My friend gave the advice to have all the conversations and say all the things – so that keeps me up at night.  Only my darling isn’t too receptive when I pad my bare feet across the house to have a heart to heart, hoping he is awake as well.  Nor does he care about learning how to perform the heimlich maneuver on himself or the most efficient way to load a dishwasher.

I don’t want to brag, but I handle being overwhelmed like a champ.  In the case you need some advice on this so the rest of your May can be smooth, let me offer some tips that I find helpful:

  • I simply quit living.  I stop being proactive on my schedule and quit looking at my calendar in hopes it will stop time. It’s odd that this doesn’t work and only adds to the frustration of being overwhelmed with tardiness and lack of preparation.  But, keep trying it.
  • I mentally hit the snooze button on the household work and checklists that normally keep our life running smooth.
  • I don’t grocery shop until the natives start hollering that we are out of milk and “everything”.
  • I curl up in bed when possible, and stare at a lot of walls and even more piles of towels that are begging to be folded.  Towels are so needy sometimes. Fold yourself.

The biggest lie is that this will stop the inevitable from happening.  Time marches on, whether we are present for the moments or not.  The world doesn’t stop turning just because we are stuck in reliving our memories.  I’ve learned we miss a lot of sweet moments if we are staring into space thinking they aren’t happening.

CS Lewis tells us, “What you see depends on where you are standing”.  This is never more true than when your baby is about to leave the nest.  I stand behind him and see my handsome boy standing in a pile of beautiful baby feathers he has shed throughout the years.  He stands at the edge of our nest and sees his future laid out wide in front of him. It is sweet to watch him stretch his wings in preparation to fly, but the sweet is wrapped in a somber blanket of not wanting it to be over.

You may not have a senior, you might just be dealing with the other side of our current crazy – end of the school year crap.  Banquets, Recitals, Award assemblies, class parties, school parties, standardized testing…bless.  You just thought you turned in all the paperwork in September.  There is a whole ‘nother pile of summer camp signups for everything your child ever considered doing.  Then the darlings decide to take a growth spurt the last month of school and you’d better go buy them all the new clothes since their shorts are closer to the “booty short” description than “prep length”.  It’s enough to overwhelm June Cleaver, no wonder we get stuck in sensory overload.

While I can’t take out the calories of our emotional eating, I can offer this…

Pause Momma.  Say no to all the unimportant tasks that aren’t relevant to this short season.  Create margin for breathing so you can have the energy and strength to be present for living.  Live this day.

The towels might end up learning how to fold themselves.  After all….we did figure out how to put a man on the moon. I’m just sayin’….

Family, Love, Parenting, Patience

My Favorite Child…Bonus edition

A few months ago, I overheard a conversation while away on a girlfriend weekend in the Texas Hill Country.  I had taken a phone call in the next room, and was walking back to join the gals when I heard them discussing the issue of having a favorite child, and if they had to choose one, which it would be.  I was chuckling on the inside, and then I heard one of them say, “Which one would be Brooke’s favorite?”  I stopped, wanting to hear who the lucky boy was.  After a pause, another one answered with, “She doesn’t really have a favorite, she is pretty equal with all of them.”

It was the best and sweetest compliment I’ve ever received.  Especially from those gals, as they know the good, bad, and ugly of me.  We are all moms and two of them occupy the same boat I do – Bonus Mom.  It is crazy that two of my best friends also married men who have custody of their children.  We end up spending more time with our bonus babies than we do our biological babies.  You will never hear me complain about this, I didn’t have children to get every other weekend off.

When Hubs and I got married and blended our boys, I did it without any hesitation.  I have always loved kids and kids seem to love me, so I figured how hard could this be?  After a couple of months into our blending I realized that being a Bonus Mom would teach me more about the patient side of love than anything else could.  For the record, we do not usually refer to any child in our home as a Bonus Boy – but to save confusion and to make a point, for this post I will – besides, who doesn’t love an added Bonus?!  Especially for extra credit.

I made several mistakes in our first year.  A lot of them stemmed from the assumption that he chose me, when in actuality, none of our children chose to have a Bonus Parent.  Hubs and I carefully chose each other.  We were crazy in love, but more importantly – we trusted the other would value and love our child(ren), and made the decision to unite with that belief.  Four years in, we know we have had it easier than some in blending a family.  It has still been a learning curve. I rarely give advice, as I usually realize what an idiot I was yesterday – the following are lessons we’ve learned thus far.

Mistake #1 – I came in hot.

Lesson #1 – Don’t come in hot.

I laugh when I look back at my naivety.   I mom so hard, so I just assumed my 10-year-old Bonus Boy got the memo that I was a good one. At first, I was confused that he had to warm up to me and figure out who I was, how I was going to change his life, and where I was going to fit in.  Trust was earned slowly.  Somedays were slower than others.

Forgive me for making the following comparison, but for me – everything is related back to animals.  I’ve rescued a lot of animals.  At the beginning of saving/adopting one, they are usually timid.  Some have been abandoned or mistreated, and have trust issues.  If I came in aggressive – even aggressively loving – they would shrink back or run and hide.  Most of the time, if you just be yourself and sit still, they will figure out you are not a threat to them and eventually will warm up to you.

For my Bio Boys, they know mom is going to constantly hug and kiss their faces – I come in hot on a daily basis, since they were born.  They had a head start on my Bonus Boy, who moved in and thought I had lost my mind.  For years it had just been him and his dad (and an amazing grandmother, an Aunt/Cousin hybrid, and extended family), but now this crazy “Bonus Mom” was always hiding around the corner, grabbing hugs and planting kisses on his head whenever she wanted.

Word of Advice – CHILL.  Walk into your new traditions slowly.  Let them know you love them in small, subtle ways, I promise they will not go unnoticed.  They are watching you, waiting for your crazy to come out, expecting your crazy to come out.  Give them their space to learn and navigate this new journey, and show them the respect that you want in return.

 

Lesson #2 – You are not your Bonus Child’s disciplinarian

Thankfully, we had an amazing counselor give us this advice, and we followed it. In our house, the biological parent does the disciplining.  While we have boundaries of requiring respect from all children, it’s not the Bonus Parent’s job to come down hard.  I have watched this in other families and I want to immediately arrest them, take away the sweet label of Bonus Parent, and slap them with the Step Mom/Dad title.

Bonus Parents, please hear me when I lovingly say this – Unless that child does not remember a time without you in their life – meaning you have been there since infanthood – disciplining is not your job.  I don’t care the situation, back off.  Hand that responsibility back to your spouse, the biological parent.  This requires A LOT of communication between the parents on how to handle specific situations that arise, but surely us adults can do that right?  It is definitely a tight rope of supporting without overstepping, but you can do it.

We have not dealt with an outright disrespectful child.  So, if that is your issue, I encourage you to seek a professional for advice.  I just slept at a Holiday Inn Express last night, who am I to know?  We have dealt with a cranky kid who has been disrespectful, in that case we fall back to how we would treat anyone who isn’t respectful in our house.  Tar and feather them.

I’m kidding.  We are clear on our expectations of respect and rules.  Here is what is required in our home.  Tone of voice is also important in any situation.  Kids are not dumb, they are actually brilliant.  They know if you like them, they know if you are pretending in front of their parent – if you aren’t being honest, they will take note.  If this is the case, go gather yourself, do some soul searching and praying.  I encourage you to simply realize that you are dealing with children, be loving.  You can be a stern fist if you want and let everyone know you run the show, but you won’t earn their love with that hardness.  Be flexible.

 

Lesson #3 – Be Fair

I don’t do everything right – but I am fair.  What I do for one child, I will do for all.  They have the same rules (or will, when they get to that age).  I just want my tombstone to be honest, “She loved us in a big way, she was fair, and she leaves behind a big closet.”, so that’s how I live.  I understand that not every situation has all the children living in the same house, which would create some creativity in equality.  I can only give advice on what I know, and that is them being under the same roof.  BE FAIR.  If you let one do something, then sister (or brother), you’d better let them all.  Don’t be sneaky either.  Nothing makes me sadder or madder than watching kids be treated different or unequal.  If you aren’t feeling that bond with your Bonus Baby, then FIGURE IT OUT.  Fight for it.  Find a common ground and build from there.  I promise it is so worth it.  When a teenager – bio or bonus – chooses to spend time with you, that is the biggest compliment of LIFE.

 

Lesson #4 – Do not talk negative about the other Parent.

This goes for EVERY PARENT, Bonus or Bio.

I don’t care what your opinion of their other parent is, it needs to be kept to yourself.  If you and your spouse need to communicate frustrations behind a closed door – knock yourself out.  But that baby better not hear it.  Or feel it.  And don’t be sneaky with the passive aggressive comments either.  KIDS ARE BRILLANT – they see you, they feel every single comment.  Because guess what?   They are half that person, and if you are talking bad about their parent, they will internalize it as there must be something wrong with them as well.

My biological parents divorced when I was 8 months old. I didn’t hear many positive things about my biological dad until after he had died.  My mom was young and didn’t know any better, but I felt every single negative comment about him.  I didn’t realize this at the time, but what I did recognize was that it didn’t feel good to hear bad things about him.  I don’t think I truly paid attention to how it made me feel until I was a divorced adult myself, and had to chose my words carefully, even when I was madder than a hornet.  My biological parent’s situation was different than my children’s, and I know my mom had a lot of frustrations, they were just hard to hear.

I’m not saying you have to lie and sugar coat things about an absentee parent.  If the child needs to talk, listen and validate their feelings.  But don’t add your opinion or manipulate the situation.  Divorce is hard enough for them to maneuver through, don’t add more junk.

 

Lesson #5 – You are not in competition with your spouse’s child(ren)

I’ve seen this enough times to say…STOP IT.  That child was there before you.  They need some quality time with their parent, alone, without you.  Create a space for that to happen and support it.  You are an adult, do not make a child feel that they are in competition for their parent’s time, love, and attention.  “Anything that feeds a rivalry will corrupt your strength.”*  Be an adult.  Take the egos out of this and build a strong family.

In the end, kindness covers a lot.  When in doubt, reach for kindness.  We will never have all the answers, nor will we always know the right thing to do or say.  In the beginning, it may seem that you will never get through all the hurdles – show them and yourself grace as you navigate through them.  For those who do the work that someone else has the title for…show up as a safe haven, not a mini savior.  No one needs a mini-savior, yet everyone could appreciate a safe haven.

Our Bonus Boys are definitely a bonus – they are little extensions of the spouse we chose and married. There is such a sweet side of loving a child that is shared with you, and being loved in return.

*Lisa Bevere

 

 

Family, Gifts, Lessons, Parenting

Parenting through the pecking

“Raising children is like being pecked to death by chickens.”

That quote has hung in a family member’s home for years, probably still does.  I whispered it often during the early years of raising boys, sometimes still do.  In my most exhausting moments of Motherhood, that quote has served my children well.  The assurance that other mothers also felt this exasperated on the journey was protection for my daring little chickens and their scissor sharp beaks.

The chickens have grown. I miss those dang chicks and their itty bitty pecking, it was really kinda cute looking from this angle.  Especially since we’ve learned that raising teenagers is like riding a rollercoaster with a blindfold on.  Some days it’s steady and smooth as you track up the hill on the Judge Roy Scream, only to be pushed off the top and realize the track gave way to the old Texas Giant with its wooden, rough ways – jerky enough to break your bra (a tragic true story).

There are moments of complete pride, realizing how far they have come in their maturity.  There are also moments of desperately begging God for more time to train the monsters.

Recently, while I was cooking with Mason, McCray strolled through the kitchen and dipped his finger in the sopapilla cheesecake filling. Big brother yelled, “Don’t do that! It has eggs in it and you’ll get melanoma!”   Hearing this, my face scrunched up and I just stared at him, wondering how he made it to through 12.7 years of school.

I held some hope that McCray, the freshman, would correct him. Instead he rolled his eyes and said, “It’s malaria you moron.”  Which explains his grade in Health class.  Bless you teacher. We should have sent a better Christmas gift.  Would a sopapilla cheese cake suffice?

I should remind everyone here that I’ve never claimed to be a good teacher.  Also, Sopapilla cheesecake has precisely zero eggs in the ingredients.  I informed them the sickness they were looking for was Salmonella. To which they both shrugged and said, “Same.”   It’s a wonder we fail at HQ trivia every day at 8 p.m.

Our oldest is a Senior, he graduates in exactly too soon of days.  A fact I have grieved and dreaded for the entirety of his eighteen years.  I can’t imagine not seeing him for longer than a week, or walking to his room for a goodnight hug.  I don’t know how I will pack him up and drive his belongings down to Austin, only to get in my car and DRIVE AWAY FROM HIM.

My baby.  My first born.  My boy who fills so much of our house with his unique character and audacious personality.  Tears are flowing as I type this.

And yet, the same precious, growing child that I am crying tears over can drive me absolutely crazy.  I’ve been told that God has a way of helping us weepy parents let go, by allowing them to act like know-it-all-fools in the last months they are in our home.  This is true. The same child that can make me gush over his adorable ways, makes my head explode and my heart ache while watching him learn life lessons and navigate tough choices, sometimes making the wrong ones.

God is so gracious.  How does He do this from heaven?!  As Bob Goff shares, “I think a Father’s job, when it’s done best, is to get down on both knees, lean over his children’s lives, and whisper, “Where do you want to go?”

I have returned to that visual a lot this past year.  Where do you want to go my son?  These boys have been watered with love and light, and a pile of prayers.  For the eldest, this has been the year of mom stepping back and allowing him to steer more.  I haven’t done this perfectly, as every-person-in-this-house accuses me of being a back-seat driver, but we can unpack that another time.

I’m trying.  I’m learning.  I’m clinging to the fact that while childhood is only a chapter in their life, we remain parents forever.  Once a parent, always a parent.

Which is my rebellious way of choosing joy in this season.

Choosing stubborn gladness throughout the journey of my heart being pecked to death by this thing called parenting.