Delight Yourself in the Lord

I love the expression of delight on her face.  :)

"Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart." ~ Psalm 37:4 NASB    This is the question my friend challenged me with:  How do you delight in the Lord?  We all know the mind over matter, love is a choice ideas.  But delight?  That comes down to more than just a mental choice for me--there is emotion and a deep down heart response.  Does fake it till you make it cut it here?  I don't know, although I have some doubts.

But when I consider what I do delight in--my baby laughing, my husband giving me that look, hugs from the kidlets, savoring a perfect glass of creamy, rich iced coffee, the satisfaction of a perfectly written line of dialogue by one of my favorite authors, a glorious sky painted in vivid colors, my favorite song coming on Pandora exactly when I am in the mood for it--it all comes back to a common denominator.  Awareness.  Focused attention.  Because if I am preoccupied with other things, I can miss the joy of all of those.  It takes a moment of concentration and letting go of everything else to fully experience delight.

"Nothing is as important as wasting time with God." ~ Jamie Buckingham.  In Spanish, verse 4 says to enjoy the presence of the Lord. "Disfruta de la presencia del Señor." (RVC)  To me, the delight of wasting time with someone I love is the way that the underlying awareness of their presence imbues mundane activities with joy.

God also delights in us, you know.  Zeph. 3:17 has always been one of my favorite verses.  The NIV says, "He will take great delight in you."  There are a lot of variations in the middle of the verse depending on translation, but they all begin by saying that the Lord is with us.  It always seems to come back to being together before we experience delight.

So today I want to intentionally sniff around for His fragrance in my day.  To look for the sparkle in His eyes peering through my children.  To listen for His heartbeat in the arms of my husband.  For His whisper amid the cacophony of everyday activities with four rambunctious energetic kidlets.  To spend time gazing into His eyes by myself, regardless of the demands of all the "things that must be done today".  To waste some time with the Lover of my soul.  To really, truly delight in Him.

Myth Busters, Relationships Edition: Humility and Sacrifice

So often the clichés that are a standard feature of Churchianity are based on a misunderstanding of Scripture, and are actually dangerous doctrines made of men.  I recently read a post on Gentle Christian Mothers by Crystal Lutton that exposed a couple of lies that many of us who grew up in the church bought into.  She graciously granted me permission to repost it here.  I know that my family has benefited in many ways thanks to Crystal's writings.  Please check out her site--she has so much more to share on grace based living!  <3

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Two doctrines that were utterly toxic to me, especially when I was younger.

1) It has to be less of you and more than God

and

2) Love is a choice and involves sacrifice.

Are these two statements true? Yes. BUT . . . the first statement is NOT something we can DO, and the second statement requires a very clear view of the situation in order to understand what "Love" is and what the necessary sacrifice must be. It's not what *you* consider to be sacrifice--it's what lines up with God's Word (even if it costs you).

But these things were taught without healthy explanation or interpretation--and without healthy modeling of what it looks like.

I am an ENFP, sanguine, Type 3 (get it done) woman--and what the above played out as in my life looked something like this:

I meet a guy--he doesn't know or really love the Lord. That's okay--I love God and I can share God's love with him. (It's important to know this was NOT "missionary dating". I was "loving" them as they were and sacrificially willing to be with them even if they weren't able (due to whatever pain was in their life) to know and love God. I figured if they experienced unconditional love they would be able to receive it from Him.

We start dating and my feelings are strong and we get close really quickly--emotionally and physically--but obviously not spiritually because he doesn't love God.

So now we're involved and I'm invested and I'm realizing it's vital for this relationship to be healthy for them to treat me well but I can't argue for what I need and expect based on God's Word (which he doesn't respect), so I sacrifice and try to deal with what is coming my way and remind myself that love requires sacrifice.

When things aren't working out in the relationship I remind myself that it always has to be less of me and more of God so I try to make myself smaller. I try to not react with emotion (more of me) and instead turn more to prayer and other spiritual pursuits.

This cycle continues until I have no boundaries left in tact, there is none of me in the relationship and, because the other person doesn't love God with all their heart, soul, mind and strength or love me as themselevs, there is also no God there anymore (I've stopped anything overtly Christian if it makes them upset).

In truth, no one can *make* there be less of them and more of God. Not only does God create us in our own unique way and ask us to BE who we are (albeit a holy version of ourselves if we are saved ) but it is most often that being who we are is what is needed in a situation we are in--that's why we're there and not someone else.

And, sacrifice means putting God's Word (not another person) ahead of everyone and everything. The key is not how well we can love another person--but how much we love God first so that our love of the other person is an overflow of the love we have with God. When all 3 parties in a relationship are in unity of purpose and vision we all move together in an ever increasing love

I think the last thought I'm having as I write this is what has most changed my life recently. I've learned that "humility" is understood by the Jewish mind as meaning this:

you take up exactly the amount of space in the world that you need. No more, no less.

and "as you need" does NOT mean "as you can get by with--and if you're someone who can sacrifice a lot you will require less space so do that."

God created you to occupy a certain amount of space in this world. You are rightfully to have all of that space. You don't have to feel guilty for it--or bemoan it.

To take up more is arrogance; to take up less is self-abasement. Both are insults to someone created in the image of God. Neither is something we should require or enable of someone else.

When we give our space to someone we encourage the sin of arrogance; when we try to take more space for ourselves from others we are encouraging the sin of self-abasement.

Are you taking up the amount of space God created you to fill in this world? And in your marriage?

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An Idealistic Control Freak Considers Unschooling

Image credit bjmcdonald on Flickr

I have always thought that those personality quizzes from magazines and Facebook are fun.  I've always considered myself to be a self-absorbed, navel-gazing perfectionist who takes herself far too seriously um, self-aware.  The results for me seem to fluctuate a bit depending on the test/my mood, but there are a couple of constants: I am an extreme introvert, and an idealist.  When I was younger, the introvert part caused some anguish, but I have pretty much made peace with that.  Now it is the idealist part that I struggle with.  It is extremely important to me to be authentic and consistent, and it really bothers me when my life and my beliefs don't mesh as well as I would like.

Like Jacob, I wrestle and wrestle and refuse to let go of it, even when I don't seem to be getting anywhere.  This school year is resurrecting all my issues regarding unschooling, and I have been a total grouch.  Not only have the kids been responding to my lack of peace, but also to my lack of boundaries.  When I am uncertain about where I stand, they have a knack for pushing on that very spot until I come to clarity.  In other words, we have been butting heads a lot over school work.

I am really drawn in my heart to unschooling.  Deep down, it is what I believe.  Or at least, what I want to believe. We pretty much have done that up until now.  But now I am homeschooling two kids, and the oldest is in second grade.  We should be taking this seriously! (said in my sternest voice).  I am a college instructor, and spent five years teaching K-12.  Even though my experience lines up with unschooling, my programming doesn't.  I am afraid.

I have always thought that fear was a terrible reason to homeschool.  I pitied the children whose parents homeschooled them out of fear of contamination by the big, bad evil world.  But now my choices regarding their education seem to be just as fear-based (and just as inaccurate).  On days when they happily dive into new material, I rejoice.  Yesterday, I read two chapters of a fabulous thriller written by my seven year old.  Her story was remarkable.  Visions of a future where she was being published danced in my head.  I listened to my five year old happily count by odd then even numbers, fives, tens and hundreds, and smiled smugly to myself.  It was working!  Then, today, when they wanted to spend all day playing computer games, I felt like a failure.

My children taught me to trust their bodies and mine with breastfeeding.  They taught me to trust the process of birth.  They have been teaching me to trust their hearts and desire to grow and treat others well as I discipline them.  And, slowly but surely, they are teaching me to trust their desire to learn.  But I am not quite there yet.  I freak out inwardly.  I feel inadequate to provide the kind of environment and support that will really allow them to excel.  And, I'll be honest--my pride trembles and quakes lest they seem to be lacking in things that other kids their age are being taught, even if the actual content is irrelevant. 

So, what is an idealistic control freak to do? 

I don't know yet.  But I am slowly realizing that it doesn't have to be an all-or-nothing approach.  Kids in public school are not motivated to study academics all day every day.  Expecting it from my own children seems a tad unreasonable.  But, they are far more motivated than many of us have been trained to believe.  

It is easy for me to shake my head at the one-size-fits-all mentality in obstetrics, in vaccinations, in sleep issues and breastfeeding, and even education, as long as it is abstract.  But in real life?  With a toddler and three year old who make any kind of schoolwork with the older two a challenge?

I am trying to find the balance between backing off and supporting them, and nudging and leading them into things that they might enjoy and profit from tremendously, if they only had more exposure to them.  Maybe one day I will wake up and realize that there really isn't a conflict at all.  Maybe I will grow in trust.  Maybe I will see that it isn't working and that we need something far more structured.  I don't know yet.  I just know that I am learning and stretching and growing right along with them, and that this whole parenting gig is really tough, as well as full of unspeakable joy.

I will keep you updated as I process through this, and I welcome your input!  Now, I am off to examine my belly-button lint in microscopic detail...

I Spanked My Dog and He Turned Out Fine

Image credit litlnemo on Flickr

I have to laugh at people who are against hitting your animals to train them.  I whipped my dog like there was no tomorrow...he didn't hate me...he didn't have trust issues with me because of it...he didn't fear me...but he darn sure respected me!  And he learned what his boundaries were and knew what would happen if he broke them...he wasn't abused...he was disciplined...*Repost if your dog got smacked and survived it...God put us over animals for a reason!*

Somehow, I doubt that many of my animal loving friends would repost this, or that there would be a ton of likes every time someone did.  I suspect that there might even be some dissenting voices saying that there are better ways to treat our pets.

Of course, Dobson describes in horrific detail beating his tiny dog with a belt to establish his dominance, and the Pearl's view of animal training is similar.  They also compare children to wild animals often, so at least they are consistent in their desire to beat anything smaller or more helpless.

Yet this Facebook status is making the rounds: "I have to laugh at people who are against spanking... My parents whipped my butt like there was no tomorrow... I didn't hate them... I didn't have trust issues with them because of it... I didn't fear them... But I darn sure respected them! And I learned what my boundaries were and knew what would happen if I broke them... I wasn't abused... I was disciplined... *Re-post if you got your butt smacked and survived it... God put extra padding back there for a reason!*"

Each time I have read it, I have started and deleted responses.  For one thing, I get emotional and it is hard to type an articulate response when your hands are shaking. I know that most people who post this have no idea how this could affect others. 


What bothers me so much?  For starters, the mocking tone.  I have known far too many people who have lasting damage from spanking (including spanking "the right way") to consider it a laughing matter.  I have shared letters from a couple of people who described their experiences.  Their utter contempt for the real abuse suffered by many flies directly in the face of the compassion shown by Christ.


Whether or not they are accurate in their assessment of the impact of spanking in their own family is impossible to say, but from what I have seen there is often a lot of denial.  The pervasive shame and self-worth issues, the anger and lack of ability to create and maintain healthy boundaries are all part of the rotten fruit of spanking that many struggle with as adults.  But, like with smoking, there are some who may not be harmed to the same extent as others.  


The problem is, even if they don't see any harm from spanking in their own lives, they are perpetuating it as something beneficial and even Godly in families that are clearly abusing their children.  Each time they like or repost or make joking comments about kids needing a good whipping, they are reinforcing the idea that it is good and that children deserve to be hit.  And the abusers nod and smile, and their children hear from yet another source that this is right, it is what they deserve and that God wants them to be hit by their parents.  


"Oh, but of course I don't condone abuse!"  "Spanking in anger is always wrong."  "It has to be done the right way."  Cop outs.  Abuse is surprisingly subjective, and the people who do it rarely believe that they are.  They are often doing less to their children than was done to them, so that makes it OK in their eyes.  Anger and depression are insidious, and it often isn't until they stop spanking that they realize how often, how hard or how angrily they were actually hitting their children.


You don't know what is going on in families that look good on the surface.  Families where you are sure that the parents would never be abusive.  Please read Avoiding Millstones.  


Hitting pets is wrong.  Hitting children is wrong.  There are far better ways to teach both. The truth is that both pets and children want to love those who take care of them, even if they are mistreated at times.  That doesn't make hitting them right.  Just because we can be forgiven is not license to be a bully.  If you are against violence towards animals and children both, like or repost.  ;)

Breastfeeding and Food Allergies

Image credit chrisinplymouth on Flickr

After more than seven and a half years of nursing, it is like wearing a comfy pair of shoes.  It is just what I do.  And although I love all of the amazing changes and stages, we have had some rough spots.  Nursing through pregnancy.  Nursing aversion.  Mastitis.  Cracked and bleeding nipples that lasted well over a month.  One of the most overwhelming was dealing with my children's food allergies while nursing.  But after more than five and a half years of it, I am surprised by how easy it has become.  

When Ariana was a baby, I noticed that sometimes she would get tiny little bumps on her cheekbones after nursing.  She seemed gassy and fussy fairly often (we used Mylicon on a regular basis), and sometimes when changing her diaper, she had a red, bull's-eye ring around her anus.  I didn't realize that these were all signs of possible food allergies.  We started solids at 6 months, and she was eating eggs, wheat, dairy, etc. by or before she was a year old. 

When she was two and Joel was almost a month old, he began screaming with every nursing session.  He would arch his back and twist his head as far as he could.  It was heartbreaking.  I shared with some other moms on my breastfeeding board and the nearly unanimous response was to try eliminating dairy.  I was desperate, and even though I am addicted to cheese, I began ruthlessly cutting out every trace of dairy from my diet.  Within two days, I could see a dramatic difference.  It took several more days for the dairy to completely leave his system, but he went back to the happy baby he had been as a newborn.

It was more than worth it to have him stop screaming, but it was incredibly daunting.  Every bite of food became an ordeal.  Grocery shopping took forever the first few weeks as I pored over labels.  This was before they were required to list the top 8 allergens, and I was looking suspiciously at things like caramel coloring and wondering if they contained dairy.  I can still remember the screaming and pain after I ate some clear broth soup that I was sure would be dairy-free, only to find out that it contained bouillon, which has dairy.

I really struggled with resentment when my husband was oblivious to the effort and frustration of every single bite.  It was hard enough at home, but when we would eat out or with family and friends it was a million times worse.  I hated having to grill them over every possible ingredient, but bringing my own food felt rude, too.  One year at Thanksgiving, some family told me that they had made mashed potatoes without milk so that I could have some.  Just as I was about to eat a bite, I noticed how creamy they looked and asked if there was any butter.  "Oh, yes.  We always put in lots of butter."  I tried to smile as I explained that I couldn't eat them, but inwardly I was so disappointed, for both of us.

There is a lot of confusion about allergies, intolerances and preferences.  I feared that a lot of people considered our dairy elimination as merely a preference and didn't take it seriously.  At one restaurant, I ordered the meal without cheese.  When it arrived with melted cheese all over, I politely explained that we were allergic to dairy, and sent it back.  It came back with most of the cheese scraped off.  :head desk.  (For the record, even if that was merely a preference, I would find that terrible service from a restaurant).

It took weeks before I began to find my footing.  Gradually, I built up a list of generally safe foods/brands.  I still had to think about every bite, but it didn't take nearly as long.  I missed my favorite foods a lot, especially cheese.  I could adjust to rice milk, Smart Balance light, and coconut milk ice cream.  I learned to adapt recipes, and thanked God daily for Oreos.  But I never found an acceptable cheese substitute.

I had been eliminating dairy for several months when Ariana started showing more symptoms.  Eczema breakouts, then hives.  The hives only happened a couple of times, but I pushed hard for allergy testing.  I wondered if I was making too big of a deal about it, if it was all in my head.  Then the results came back.  She was allergic to dairy, wheat, eggs, corn, peanuts, olives and green beans.  While a tiny part of me felt relief that it wasn't just my imagination, that was drowned by the sheer terror.  WHAT was left to eat that didn't contain any of those ingredients?!

Once again, we went through the weeks of poring over labels, looking up ingredients from restaurants on the Internet, and trying to adapt.  This time it was harder because I had to explain to a three year old over and over why she could no longer have any of her favorite foods.  She was a trooper, but it made me sad to deny her or see her left out at birthday parties or other places.  She even reacted to the wheat in Play-Dough.

Her eczema cleared up, though.  She was diaper-free at night as soon as we eliminated the wheat and she actually began sleeping all night.  Her behavior changed noticeably, she was less irritable and aggressive with her little brother.  We began eating more healthfully as a family (sometimes.  We also indulged in junk food that was free of our allergens, just because we could).  I also became a very inventive cook, because I was determined to say yes to my children's food preferences as much as possible, and also because I had to make food that was safe for the whole family that we actually wanted to eat.

Joel started breaking out in hives and having tummy issues just before he turned two.  He seemed fine with dairy, and tests came back negative, but with incredibly high positives to corn, and lower reactions to black beans and pork. Before Elena was a year old, she was showing signs of allergies, too, including a trip to the ER after breaking our in hives the size of my fist from head to toe.  All her tests came back negative, but she showed clear reactions to eggs and berries.  When Amaya was a few months old she started reacting to corn and chocolate (woe is me!) and possibly to pork. 

What I have learned from all this is that it gets easier.  It is possible to breastfeed multiple kids while eliminating multiple allergens.  The learning curve at the beginning is really tough, but once you adjust it becomes like any other discipline.

The allergy part is still confusing to me because of all the contradictory information out there.  I won't tell you when to start solids and which ones, whether or not small amounts through breastmilk that don't provoke a noticeable reaction are good for desensitizing or if they increase the chances for the child to remain allergic, what role vaccines might play, whether or not alternative treatments are effective, or any medical advice, because I just don't know.

What I DO know is that after five and a half years of breastfeeding fool-allergic kiddos, I am happy with that choice.  It isn't nearly as difficult now as it was even three or four years ago.  (Thankfully, the kidlets have outgrown some of the allergies.  I can have cheese now.  But I think I would rather have chocolate.  Sigh.)  I am still more grateful than I can say to all the friends who patiently answered questions, encouraged me, commiserated with me, and helped us to be successful with breastfeeding through the challenge of so many food allergies.

Do you suspect food issues with any of your nurslings?  Are you trying to navigate dietary challenges?  Do you need a hug or an ear from other moms who have been through this?  Your comments and questions are welcome!  <3

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*Sensitive* Another Anonymous Post on Spanking and Siblings

The following is a post from someone who has asked to remain anonymous.  As with previous posts of this nature, any comments will be strictly moderated. *NOTE:  I added the *Sensitive* warning to the title after hearing from several readers that it triggered strong memories for them.  Just as I was stunned and heartbroken by the responses from so many to the letter to the pastor dealing with the sexual side effects of spanking, I have been deeply saddened to read from so many who still experiences nightmares of their siblings being spanked.  :(

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I have started and deleted this several times already, and am choosing to share this anonymously through a blogger who has spoken out against spanking.  I feel compelled to share this, but I am scared.  Secrecy was ingrained for too many years.  And I am scared that some people will read this limited, partial account and not see the full picture (can anyone ever really see the full picture?) and see my dad as a monster.  He is not, and he was not.  In many ways, he was a wonderful father.  And it has been many years since these events, and he and my brother have both changed dramatically and so has their relationship.  But I still have nightmares sometimes.

Growing up, there were a lot of misconceptions about my family.  In many ways, we were the perfect Christian fairy-tale.  My parents divorced when I was small.  Like most little kids, I was heartbroken and desperate for our family to be restored.  I heard the Bible verses about asking something in Jesus name, and that if two or more would agree on it, that it would be done.  I took that literally and never doubted that if I could find two or three people to agree with me in Jesus name, my parents would get back together.  I would even go up to random people in the grocery store while my mom was busy shopping and ask them to agree with me.  Two and a half years after the divorce was finalized, they remarried.

My parents returned to pastoring, and began closely following the teachings of Bill Gothard, which had been instrumental in my dad's change of heart.  One of the tenets of Gothardism is not limiting the number of children you will have.  After many, many miscarriages, my mother carried a miracle baby to term, and my little brother was born.

I only received a handful of spanking growing up.  A few from my mom for fighting with my sister or talking back, mostly when she was at the end of her rope.  They hurt, but they were never the kind that would be considered abusive by most people.  5 or 6 swats, usually with a belt or the cardboard rod from a clothes hanger.  Any red marks were gone within minutes.  I don't believe they ever resulted in any good, but not in terrible harm, either.  I probably got even fewer from my dad, partly because the time when they were divorced was when I would have been most likely to be spanked, and partly because I was a girl, and partly because he was in a healthier state of mind then.  The few I got were with a belt, and he always somehow managed to make it hit in the exact same spot each time, even with my limited attempts at wiggling.  I felt a lot more resentment about these, mainly because I felt that they were not fully deserved.  But if it had ended there, it might not have been that big a deal.

When my brother was born, a perfect storm hit.  He was a boy with very high needs (and almost certainly special needs, although my dad was adamant against ever having him tested).  He was the poster child for a strong will.  And my dad was in a very, very dark place.  He was abused.  He was spanked with a belt for wriggling during diaper changes by the time he could crawl.  Church services, evenings, any time my dad was around were punctuated by marathon spanking sessions, where my dad would insist on compliance that my brother refused to give and became an outlet for my father's depression.  Sometimes he would be hit well over 50 times in one session.  There were welts that would last a day or two.

But no one spoke up.  No one said that this was abuse.  After all, it was just spanking a strong willed little boy.  There were never any broken bones.  He was never hit with anything other than a belt or hand.  He didn't get cut with the buckle.  He was only beaten on the bottom and legs.  Once, and only once, did my dad hit him in the face.  It took us all by surprised because we were in a restaurant, and the only offense was that he didn't want to go to the restroom with my dad.  My brother immediately bit him back enough to draw blood. 

My brother was never one to give up, and he developed a hatred for my dad.  The older he got, the more he began to fight back.  Eventually, my dad was spanking less and less and my brother was attacking him more and more.   When my brother was so little, we watched their confrontations in mostly silent disapproval, but couldn't help but feel that at least sometimes my brother was able to even the score a little bit.  My mom believed that she had to submit to my dad's authority, even when she thought he was being too harsh.  She was too beaten down emotionally and verbally to do much else, although I don't think my dad ever hurt her physically.  I was confused.  Initially, I squashed any doubts by reading all that the religious spanking gurus said, which pretty much said that my brother deserved it.  One of my lifelong regrets is that I participated in it.  The stance then was that anyone taking care of him had the authority to hit him, and I spanked him several times myself, thinking that it would change his behavior if we were consistent.

I felt increasingly guilty, and stopped.  I was more and more scared by how much my dad was hitting him.  Later, I tried to intervene more by heading off tense situations and even speaking up from time to time.  The day that my dad hit him in the face, I said the most calculatingly hurtful thing that I could, and told him that I was sorry that he was our dad.  I could tell that it hit home, because we had always been so close.  He responded with a choked voice that God heard me say that.  I shot back, "And God saw what you did."

There were times, especially if the welts lasted more than a few hours, where I wanted to call the authorities.  But it was ingrained into us to not dishonor God and our father by cracking the facade.  I believed they would split up our family, and that my siblings and I would be separated.  Would that really be better than what we had now?  It couldn't really be abuse--my dad was just following what Gothard and all the other Christians taught about spanking.  The doubts would chase each other until I was exhausted.

Gothard talks a lot about taking up offenses.  He insists that only the individual who is directly wronged received grace to handle the situation.  I don't know.  Over the years, things gradually began to improve between my dad and brother.  As my dad came out of his depression, he was less angry and began to try to repair the relationship.  If anything, he wound up going to the opposite extreme in an effort to deflect the rage that had built up inside of my brother.  My brother is an adult now, and while the relationship between him and my dad has its scars, things are actually pretty good between them. 

But even years after the last time there was any physical violence towards him, I still have nightmares of my dad hitting my brother.  In some of them, I am the one hitting him.  I wake up in a cold sweat, stomach churning and acid rising up.  I choke back the sick feeling and remind myself that it was a long time ago and that things are better now.

All along, I heard lies and misconceptions.  So many people thought we were the perfect family.  I never heard any Christian speak out against what was happening to my brother when he was tiny.  All I head was the constant repetition of pro-spanking dogma.  Don't hit in anger (which my dad claimed he was following.  His underlying anger was obvious to me and others, but I don't think my dad really saw it in himself then.  Most of the time, he was cool, in control and sometimes even lightly joking about it.)   He was only hitting in approved places, with approved instruments, and he wasn't doing things that are obvious abuse like broken bones. He followed the right formulas.  But it hurt our family far beyond the physical pain that my brother endured.

I decided to share this because I desperately wish that someone had spoken up for my little brother years ago.  Instead, all we heard was encouragement to spank more until his will was broken.  Would it have made a difference to my dad if someone had spoken up?  Probably not.  But it would have made a difference to me.  It might have made a difference to my mom or my brother.  Please, speak up if you know of someone who is spanking too much, too hard, or too often.  And even if you agree with spanking, please, please don't encourage others to do it.  No matter how well you think you know the family, you don't really know what is going on. 

7 Steps for Getting Back on Track

In my post on taking a wrong turn with discipline, I promised to share some of the ways we course correct.  I also had some beautiful, wise comments from some of you on the original post and my Facebook page that helped so much.  Here are a few of the things that I am learning.

Image credit greengardenvienna on Flickr

1.  Think longterm.  Invariably, when I slip into this it is because I want short term results regardless of the cost.  Like eating junk food when pressed for time, I internally justify it because of extenuating circumstances.  The truth is, though, that there will always be extenuating circumstances.  If this is truly a priority for me--and it is--then I have to push past excuses.

2.   Take a break.  When it has already become a pattern that is spiraling out of control, taking a day or two to drastically break the cycle helps tremendously.  If I have been yelling, being quiet until I am filtering more easily helps.  If I have been rushed or stressed by outside things, taking a day to just focus on togetherness and connection and fun is crucial.

3.  Confess.  I need to tell my children that what I have been doing is wrong and apologize.  I also need to tell my husband to help both of us be more aware of it.  Very young children don't always realize that we can make mistakes.  They internalize that however they are treated by us is what they deserve.  I need to explicitly tell them that it isn't OK for anyone to treat them that way. 

4.  Make amends.  Restoring connection is a process.  It won't be a one-time action or apology.  I have found that one of the best things is to individually tailor it according to my children's love languages.  Ariana needs quality time, like a Starbucks date.  Joel needs lots of physical interaction.  Elena needs a gift (which does not have to be purchased). 

5.  Enlist their help.  Ask them to please tell me if I start to slip up.  Authentic Parenting had a great post on the power of having our children tell us when we are doing wrong.  This is such a valuable tool, not just for parenting, but for our children to practice regularly.  I didn't grow up with healthy boundaries modeled.  It is still easier for me to "be nice" until I reach the breaking point and then explode.  This is a great way to actively help my children to learn healthy patterns of interaction so that they will be comfortable with it as adults.  Encouraging my husband to speak up if he sees me acting hurtfully is important, too.  We are not a united front *against*our kids.

6.  Revisit my own GD toolbox. Sometimes, even when we have the tools we need, it seems easier in the moment to just rely on what is handy instead of what is actually best for the job.  I need to surround myself with a graceful community to help keep my mind where it needs to be, and go back through my toolboxes (for myself and for my kids) on a regular basis.  The more consciously I use all my tools, the happier I am with the results. 

7.  Remember that grace is for mamas, too.  If I start to shame myself (something I still fall into pretty easily) it sabotages my energy and my efforts to change.  I have to let go of the shame for past mistakes, and accept love and forgiveness.  This one is hard, but essential. 

We all make wrong turns sometimes.  It is part of being human, and part of growing.  The important thing is learning to recognize when we get off track and getting on the right road once more.  I am so grateful to all of you for your help as I navigate this journey!  <3  A special thanks to Toddler in Tow, The New Mommy Files: Memories, Milestones and Missteps, The Black Sheep Princess,  Momma in Progress, Hybrid Rasta Mama, and all of you who commented and shared some of your tips!  <3

Growing Smarter Children--Guest Post from Shelley Joy

Image credit familymwr on Flickr

I have learned many things throughout the years working with children and families. I have never met a parent who did not want his child to be smart and to do well in school. This unanimous goal holds true regardless of the socio-economical, cultural, educational, professional, or geographical differences within families. Each of us wants to raise bright children who do well. And who wouldn't want their child to do be successful, smart, and self-reliant?

An almost universal conviction is our children are a reflection of ourselves. We must keep our children clean. A dirty and unkempt child is a sign that, somehow, we have failed as parents. This is not necessarily so!

When I worked as an early childhood educator and administrator, parents would often complain of how dirty their child was at the end of the day. They were splattered with paint and glue and often times their feet were encrusted with mud between their toes. Even the most stalwart parent would cringe at the sight of their messy child!

There is a secret formula to "make kids smart." Let them get dirty! To the parents who expressed their desire for smart children, I would say, "I can make your child smart, but you have to let me let them get dirty! I can make them just a little smart and let them get a little dirty, or I can make them really smart and let them get a lot dirty. It is your child and definitely your choice."

Children learn best through play. It is their work! And play is often dirty, messy work. Play enables children to progress naturally through the developmental stages necessary to acquire reading and writing skills in school, as well as the important socio-emotional skills required to become successful and self-reliant students. Child initiated play, supported and facilitated by loving adults, is the single most important factor in early childhood learning.

Image credit nowviskie on Flickr

Children learn by doing
Children need years of play with real objects and events before they are able to understand the meaning of symbols such as letters and numbers. Learning takes place as young children touch, manipulate, and experiment with things and interact with people. Throughout early childhood, concepts and language gradually develop to enable children to understand more abstract or symbolic information. Children learn by manipulating their environment and materials, and the messier the better!

Activities should be open-ended, meaning there is no right or wrong way to use materials. Children are their own best teachers through the process of "doing," with the focus on process rather than product. Any activity that stimulates one dimension of development and learning affects other dimensions as well.

Mud, sand, and water along with cornstarch and water, are excellent open-ended materials. Combine these materials with regular household items such as spatulas, whisks, plastic measuring cups and bowls, and nature's finest learning materials turn into imaginative creations of expression and creativity.

Crayons, markers, paper, and glue are other open-ended materials that, combined with buttons, glitter, colored salt, and old magazines, make astonishing collages that are process-oriented.

Make a bowl of pudding and finger paint. The texture of pudding makes smooth and practical finger paint for young children. Add food coloring or a scented flavoring extract, like vanilla, almond, or citrus for a heightened sensory experience.

Preschool-age children enjoy the smooth, soft, and fluffy feeling of shaving cream as finger paint. Allow your preschool child to paint directly on the kitchen table if you desire. Shaving cream is easy to clean and leaves the room smelling fresh.

Using real household items, rather than child size plastic replicas, gives value and integrity to children's projects. Children enjoy, and also learn, by doing "real" work. Mortar and pestles for grinding, scrapers for scraping, wooden spoons for stirring, and wire whisks for whisking, make excellent "toys" for children.

Image credit david.james55 on Flickr

Fresh herbs, cinnamon sticks, cornmeal, and dried flowers are wonderful for grinding, scraping, and stirring. Children learn by using their senses: Imagine the smell of freshly ground herbs, cinnamon, and flowers! Simply add water, and you have a new "recipe" for success.

Garage sale pots and pans are excellent for "cooking" and recipes for learning. Just as easily, pots and pans also magically turn into the basics of a rhythm band.

Dollar store gardening tools that are not sharp, such as hand trowels and scoops, make excellent and long lasting sand toys and are great for digging worms.

Save old food boxes, cartons, and packages for children to use as props for their "house." When they begin to become worn and torn, as they will, throw them away and provide new ones.

Take a walk with your child in the rain, jump in a mud puddle, take off your shoes, and feel the mud between your toes!

Ordinary dish soap in a wash pan with water makes an excellent base for bubbles. Bubbles are joy-filled and magical. Use wire whisks, straws, strainers, and even your own hands to create different sized bubbles and a delightful "science" project. Dish soap in a small wading pool with water and a hula-hoop will add magic to any hot summer day and you'll have the entire neighborhood begging for more.

Real and authentic experiences are remembered. They are integrated into the very heart of the child simply because they are real. Authentic experiences are child-powered, not battery powered. They are experiences that integrate concrete, real-life experiences that are the key to motivated, meaningful learning in kindergarten and the primary grades. You say you want smart children? Let them play and get dirty!

Shelley is the author of Little Bird You are Perfect and numerous articles on parenting and enjoying life.  You can also find her on Facebook, where she is offers up encouragement and inspiration.  <3  I am so grateful for her voice of peace, love and joy in my life! <3

Wrong Turn

Image credit Mykl Roventine on Flickr

I can pretty much pinpoint when it happened.  At the beginning of the summer, our kids still needed life vests or floaties to swim.  We started taking them swimming once a week, and by the second time our older two were swimming without anything else.  They were so excited!  A couple of weeks later, they were jumping off the diving board, finally working their way to the high dive.  They couldn't imagine anything more thrilling.  It was so much fun that my five year old had an extremely difficult time leaving.

After carrying him out of the pool, we told him that we weren't coming back the next week.  His grief was immense.  In all honesty, there are many times when the difference between punishment and boundaries looks like a matter of semantics.  I do believe that there is a significant difference in the intent of the parent, as well as the approach, but I also know that the line can blur very easily.

One of the things I have adopted from Crystal Lutton is that "leaving successfully is part of coming back the next time."  It wasn't the first time my son had had a meltdown on leaving, and it was apparent that he didn't yet have the control needed to leave without a fuss.  Asking him to do it over again without changing things was setting him up for failure.  And going through an unpleasant scene at the end of swimming each week was not something we felt was worth it.  Our intent was not to punish him--make him feel bad so that his behavior would change.  It was just to give us all a break until we could come back and try again more successfully.

A lot of other things were going on, too.  I teach nine credit hours in 6 weeks during the summer, so I am suddenly gone a lot during the day.   By the time I was home on evenings and weekends, there were a thousand things screaming at me to get done, I was desperate for some down time, and our connection was starting to fray.   I developed tunnel-vision.  Instead of seeing the big picture and the long-term goals I have, I started focusing on the easiest way to get compliance.  My intent shifted and it transformed into a threat.  "Do what I say right now or no swimming."

It worked.  Their love of swimming is so great that they will pretty much do anything if they think we can go back.  And since we did skip one week before trying again, they know we can follow through on the threat.  At first, it was easy to brush aside each twinge of guilt.  After all, it isn't like threatening them with a beating or using harsh words to tear them down.  Missing a swimming session is not abuse, by any means.

It became a quick fix.  It wasn't until hearing my husband tell them several times in a row that doing x would mean no swimming (when they were happily complying to begin with!) that I realized how ridiculously it was being used.  Instead of connection and discipline (teaching), we were just relying on the threat to get instant results.  And yes, those of you who have read my diatribes against spanking are fully aware of the hypocrisy there, since most of my arguments against spanking apply just as well to this.

We took a wrong turn.  It seems like a convenient tool. The initial payoff is great.  But the more I used it, the more I realize that the long term price is too high for me.  It was eroding our connection.  Our kids were starting to ask, "What will happen if we don't?" from a self-centered standpoint.  I read this post from my friend PIO and nearly cried because I knew I wasn't living up to my own beliefs.

I mess up a lot.  In spite of all my posts on discipline and parenting, I fall short often from what I know.  I get tempted by quick results and easy responses.  I am working on a post about getting back on track, but wanted to go ahead and post this as my declaration that I don't want to go any further down this path of punishments.

My Five Favorite Foods in San Juan

Puerto Rico fully merits the name "Isla del encanto."  I love the rainforest, the beach, and all the rest of the lovely island, but what really gets me excited about visiting is the food.  It is seriously some of the best on the planet.  If you go to San Juan, here are a few things you must try:

1. Mallorcas and coffee from La Bombonera.  The coffee is fabulous, and incredibly inexpensive.  The mallorcas are a sweet roll (like a cinnamon roll without the cinnamon), drenched in butter, pan toasted and sprinkled with powdered sugar.  Melt in our mouth yumminess like you wouldn't believe.  My five year old remembered these from a whole year ago and couldn't wait to go back.

Mom, please don't interrupt my blissful munching for a pic.

2.  Quesitos con guayaba.  A flaky croissant, filled with a combination of sweet cream cheese and tangy guava.  I would include a pic, but they seem to get gobbled up before I have time to pull out my phone.  Yeah, they are that good!  My favorites are from the Repostería España in Isla Verde.

3.  Mofongo.  This is the ultimate comfort food.  Take buttery, garlic-smashed plantains, add your favorite meat (mine is churrasco--flank steak--but the chicken and fish are delicious, too).  Soak it all with an amazing salsa criolla of tomatoes, onions, garlic, cilantro and sweet peppers.  This is like steak, mashed potatoes and gravy, island-style.  Heaven.  You can find mofongo everywhere, but the perfect ratio of sauce to meat to plantains, IMO, is at Barrachina in Old San Juan.  The meat and plantains are both tender, and the flavor is rich and satisfying.

4.  If you are at Barrachina, you must have a piña colada.  This is the restaurant where they were invented!   You won't be disappointed.  It is the perfect balance of sweet, creamy coconut and refreshing pineapple.  A bonus--little ones with you get their own sample size virgin versions.  :)

Can you see that creamy goodness at the bottom of the plate?

5.  Pastel de tres leches.  If you are a cookie-dunker or you like ice cream on your cake, this one is for you.  Take a delicious, rich cake, then soak it in three milks, and you wind up with an incredibly moist (like dripping!) cake.  It tastes like cake that has been sitting in melted vanilla ice cream.  Yum!  If you are looking for the very best, check out Metropol, a Cuban restaurant in Isla Verde.  The mofongo is very good there, the beans and rice are out of this world, and their pastel de tres leches blows the rest of them away.


I haven't even mentioned that across the street from our hotel is Piu Bello, a gelato shop that we visit at least once a day.  My favorite is their coquito gelato, a fabulously decadent combination of coconut and rum.  However, I haven't had a flavor that I didn't like.  The blood orange is excellent, the limón is the best I have tried, they have nutella gelato with chocolate cookies crushed into it...  If I can gather enough evidence, I just might give it its own post... ;)

As you can guess, the reason I haven't been online too much the last week or so is because I have been stuffing my face researching some of the best foods that San Juan has to offer.  I will continue each day to seek out more yumminess for me you.  Wish you were here to share a cup of extraordinarily good Puerto Rican coffee and some yummy snacks with me!