A Year of Growth

"Observing my own children, I was compelled to acknowledge the potency of the human soul, the power of its DNA over any conscious efforts to create a progeny in one's own image. There was something irreducibly given in their characters which created an independence that you could not reach. There was something irreducible in human character itself that rebelled against efforts to direct it too completely. You could encourage children, set an example for them, provide them with opportunities and support. But you could not program them to a desired result."  -David Horowitz



Wow.

I decided to blog today and as I read my last post I realized how much I have matured as a parent in a year's time...

What happened? Am I just more comfortable with the changes in my children? Has their behavior improved? Am I more confident in my ability to lead them? Or am I just more realistic?

I still have daily doubts but I feel a new confidence in my ability. Being a person of faith, I pray for myself and my children. I feel prayer is an integral part of my new self-assurance but it isn't the complete reason for my change of attitude. I feel liberated in the reality of my task. I AM NOT IN CONTROL!

I am a very logical person. I know there are time-tested methods of parenting that produce desirable results. I have observed families I feel are on the right path. I have conversations with mothers about what they do when confronted with certain parenting situations. I read. I listen. I think about my own behavior... what am I modeling in my every day life for my children?

I am human. I am not perfect and neither are my children. I shouldn't expect parenting perfection or perfect progeny. The reality of humanity is we are extremely and excessively imperfect. It seems to be the pursuit of perfection that defeats our souls. The "letting go" has freed my mind and allowed me to walk down alternate paths previously hidden by my "ideal."

Other mothers have suggested I write a book. If I wrote a book, it would be very short. Every family is different. Every child is unique. There is no magic formula.

So.....
I believe there are three words to achieving the "ideal" in life.

MAKE GOOD DECISIONS.

However, making good decisions 100% of the time is an impossibility!

This is where love comes into the equation. Discuss mistakes. Teach and demonstrate repentance. Practice forgiveness. Talk about changes that can produce better outcomes but never expect perfection. Allow failure. Teach your children to learn from failure. Be honest about your own failure.

Seems simple, right?

I am in a good place with my parenting at the moment. I know I have a lot of room for improvement. I will never be a perfect parent and I am fine with this thought. I have been liberated to live in freedom. Freedom is always risky but freedom is the best way to live!

Live in reality.
Love your children.
Make good decisions.

Imperfect Perfection

Or should I title this post "Perfect Imperfection?'

As I plunge into 2015, I find myself treading the waters of parenting with trepidation, doubt, and a bit of cynicism.

Does it matter? As a leader of the three human beings put into my care, I wonder how much my influence matters... the hug and the "I love you, mama" validates my efforts... the eye-rolling and the "Mama, just let us listen to the song without your constant analysis" makes me question my power.

Here I stand. Wondering.

To love so intensely and deeply is a scary and humbling thing. To realize the powerlessness of my power is all at once liberating and terrifying to me.

Saying, "It's out of my control," is a universe away from believing it.

So, my children are all at once perfect. Then imperfect.

And, isn't that human nature? In one moment, we are changed from a reflection of our Creator into making clothing out of leaves to hide our shame. This is the struggle. Keeping it all in perspective. Loving through it all.

Being a mother is a tightrope walk in the circus tent where every seat is full.
Balance. Focus. Calm strength.

Will I make it to the other side?

Or will there be a gasp from the spectators as I fall...

Thank God, there's a net.

Unplanned Blessing

My daughter, Eden, turns 10 today.

She has blessed my life with a decade of love.

She is special to me because I didn't plan her. God did. He loved me beyond what I deserve when he placed this child in my life. He decided. He provided. He told me who was in charge.

It's not that I didn't want a large family. It was how sick pregnancy made me. It was almost unbearable. In fact, upon realizing I was pregnant for the third time it was something I believed I couldn't physically endure again.

However, God provided me with the help I needed. My family supported me through four months of sickness and we were all blessed with Eden on December 12, 2004.

Eden observed the world through wide eyes from the moment she was born. She was the final piece of our family puzzle... fitting in perfectly with her older brother and sister. Those busy years are now a distant memory but they were so foundational in all of our lives. We became a complete family and learned how to help each other along on our intertwining life-paths.

She and Lilli are only separated by 22 months. "Irish twins" is the phrase I've heard used...

She is taller than her older sister which presents a bit of a challenge in their relationship. Walking this delicate tight-rope of sisterly love and sibling rivalry has been a test of my parenting skills. I remember occasionally fighting with my sister (you know... knock down, drag out style) so I guess it's "payback" time!

She's a hard worker. Sticking to a task until she figures it out. This makes her a math whiz. "Math is easy-peasy," she says. It also makes her an excellent swimmer and a mesmerizing pianist.

She's also very black and white.
Kid love her. They think she's funny and she likes it!
She has a fierce love for God... she loves to read the Bible with me.
She loves to dance and sing.

Thinking. Thinking. Thinking. As my sister said the other day, "She's there with me but she's thinking about something else." Her teacher thinks she will be a scientist one day. Eden says she wants to be a swim coach and a math teacher.

A decade of Eden has brought me so much joy. I'm definitely looking forward to the future. I wonder what she will accomplish. What will she be doing when she's 13? 16? 20? How can I best love her? What is my purpose in being her mama? Why did God give her to me? I'm always asking. Praying. Seeking the answers.

Happy Birthday, my baby girl. You intrigue me. I love you.

Legacy

I am missing my Grandmother today. Sometimes the feeling of loss is overwhelming. It's a feeling I had never experienced before she passed away. Loss grips my heart and squeezes tears from my eyes. I talk to her... telling her how much she is missed.

I suppose my grief is a result of our close relationship. We were 52 years apart in age but sometimes I felt like her best friend. We shared many enlightening conversations. We belly laughed together too many times to count. She shared her knowledge of cooking, sewing, gardening, and managing a home with me. She also loved my grandfather, her children, her siblings, her extended family, and her neighbors. She was gracious. A woman of inner beauty who radiated kindness to all who knew her.

Many times I would pop in for a visit with her and she would be reading her Bible. In her last six months of life, I read her Bible to her about three times a week. As I read to her, I realized the task was as much for me as for her. I was overwhelmed with peace. And joy. The process of caring for my beloved Grandmother fed my soul and filled my heart. It gave me a purpose. 

She passed away at the end of July. I still can hear her voice. I still love her and I think about her every day. She lives on in my heart. My prayer is she will live on in the way I love my own husband, children, siblings, family, and neighbors. 

In Christ she sleeps. In Christ she will awake. Until that day, I miss her. 

I love you, Grandmother.

Parenting 101

I love my children.

I love them because they are mine.

I love them with a fierce, bold love.

I don't view them as perfect because I am aware of their nature.

I know they will make LOTS of mistakes.

I have taught them to be kind to others. They can be mean.

I have taught them to practice self-control. They can lose control in a flash of anger.

I have taught them to be honest.  They can lie.

I fully expect them to fail. However, I hope they learn from their failures.

I fully expect them to blame others. However, I hope they don't really believe it's someone else's fault.

They are...

HUMAN.

I am in my children's lives every day. I have made mothering my life's work for awhile now. Some days I feel accomplished and nearly perfect. Most days I feel exhausted and doubtful of my ability to raise three human beings.

I know them so well. At times I feel like I can read their thoughts. I want to make sure I teach them every thing they "need to know" before they leave my home. And it is in these moments I doubt I am even touching the surface of what they need to know...

I guess all they really need to know is love.

I love you, Asher.
I love you, Lillian.
I love you, Eden.

I love you with a healthy diet, clean sheets, instruction, humor, music, reading out loud, limited television, plenty of rest, vacation, trips to the library, taking you to church, walks... snuggles, long talks, hugs, kisses, games... loving your dad...

I hope I am patient. And kind. I hope I am not rude. To you. Or anyone. I hope I am not easily angered. And I hope I "get over it." I hope I am truthful. I hope you feel protected by me. I hope you always feel you can trust me.

Love never fails.

Mama's Report Card

Name:  
Mama

Requirements:  
Three meals per day, suitable clothing, company, toys, and LOTS OF LOVE!

Cooking:  
I suggest cutting out some time one day a month and cooking (or making) something you have never cooked/made. If you agree/don't agree check the suitable box.

Eden's Clothes:  
I prefer t-shirts over blouses, long shorts over short shorts, yoga pants over jeans, and my dresses have to be un-itchy, above my freckle, and below my knees, and I have to be able to run in them.

Company:
I would like to be with my friends some more because if I'm not doing something I get SUPER bored. These are the places I can walk/bike to... (list of names).

Toys:  
I HAVE TOO MANY!!! (but don't get rid of them.)

Love:  
100%

GREAT JOB!!!

With lots of love,  Eden

Nurture and Admonition

Nurture - the process of caring for and encouraging the growth of someone or something

Admonition - authoritative counsel

Walking through the 8th grade hall yesterday, I was greeted with smiles and "Hey, Mrs. Hamlin!" and "Hi, Asher's mom!"

"He's right over here." I saw him standing in his Geometry classroom doorway with a slightly puzzled look on his face. This was only the second time I had ventured into one of his middle school classrooms during school hours.

I showed him the brown paper bag that contained his lunch as I walked over to him. "Thanks, mom."

"No worries," I said as I walked right past him while saying "hello" to a few more of his buddies. I walked into his classroom and up to his teacher's desk. She was busy talking to a few students (the bell had sounded to end the period so I wasn't interrupting instruction time) so I waited patiently for my turn.

When she looked up and acknowledged me, I asked how Asher had done on his quiz the day before... a "B." I asked her about his behavior so far this semester. "Well, he continues to goof around... which is negatively affecting his grade. He's a smart guy who needs to pay better attention in class. I almost wrote a referral for him last week."

Enter Asher. Smiling. Perfect eye contact with me and his teacher... "I've been a better listener. I'm paying attention." Oh dear. I physically see his teacher soften. I understand. This is what he does to me. He has an uncanny ability to smooth talk his way out of undesirable situations.

I informed the teacher I wanted to know if Asher's behavior didn't improve immediately. (I followed up later that afternoon by sending her an email reminding her I wanted to stay on top of this matter.)

As Asher and I walked to his next class together he again thanked me for bringing his lunch. I said, "You can thank me by doing your best."

"I love you, mom."

"I love you, Asher."

Asher is a good kid. He's fairly responsible for a 14-year-old. He makes decent grades. (He COULD make all A's. Which frustrates me and his dad.) Coaches, teachers, friends' parents all tell me what a respectful young man he is... so, what's the issue?

He could be better.

Better? How?

By being on honor roll every semester? By using his athletic abilities to compete and win? Maybe I listen too much to society's standards. Maybe I'm not listening closely enough to him.

What are my expectations? More importantly, what are God's expectations?

"Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right. Honor your father and your mother - which is the first commandment with a promise - that it may go well with you and that you many enjoy long life on this earth."

So, that's what God expects of Asher. But, the instruction doesn't end there. Now it's my turn...

"Fathers, don't exasperate your children; instead bring them up in the training and the instruction of the Lord."

One teacher on the subject of parenting said, "Moms. Don't nag. State your expectation once. Let reality be the teacher."

It's so hard to let reality be the teacher when it includes failure. But, what is failure? Is it working below your ability? Or something else?

Asher has challenged me at every stage. However, he has always loved me, thanked me, honored me... my love for him can overwhelm me at times. My heart aches when I love him through something difficult. At other times, my heart almost bursts with joy as I watch him with wonder. Secretly celebrating the man he is becoming.

As Mary watched Jesus grow physically, grow in wisdom, and in favor with God and men, she "treasured all these things in her heart."

Maybe I listen too much to society's standards. Maybe I'm not listening closely enough to him. When I disapprove of him, what is my standard? Is it important enough for nagging?

This morning as I drove Asher and a friend to the middle school I said to Asher, "I expect perfect behavior in Geometry today. Listen and learn."

"Mom, no human is perfect. Only Jesus was."

How do I respond to that?

"Love you, Asher. Do your best. Have a good day. Bye!" (With nurture and admonition.)

Now what?

Hiatus.

A pause or gap in a sequence, series, or process.

I feel like my life is on pause.

Maybe it's the non-stop activity. Soccer. Baseball. Swim. Piano lessons. Ballet. Horseback riding.

Maybe it's the repetitive schedule. Monday. Tuesday. Wednesday. Thursday. Friday.

Maybe it's the...

Kids.

Maybe it's just me.

I feel mostly uninspired. And uninspiring. But maybe life really is just the day to day.

Brush your teeth. Wash your face. Go to bed.

Call it a day. And another. And another.

Flip-flopping through life. Trying to find my way. Trying to find me.

26.2: Training

The journey to 26.2 miles is a long one. It is a journey characterized by discipline and dedication. Self-doubt reigns until a "can do" attitude insists the new goal ahead is attainable.

"BEGIN MARATHON TRAINING" is written in my date book in bold, red letters.

I began my training on October 30th, 2012 with a 3 mile run. I decided to follow Hal Higdon's "Novice Training" with the goal of simply finishing a marathon. My training plan was 18 weeks of running four times a week.

The first nine weeks of training was all familiar territory to me. The maximum distance was 13.1 miles. I had run multiple half-marathons and knew this distance was very doable. I had never run 13.1 miles as a training run so I was a bit doubtful about how I would perform. I remember enjoying the experience on a gorgeous, sunny day two days before Christmas. I ran the distance at a quick pace and was pleased with my accomplishment.

It was two weeks until I was scheduled to run a distance of 15 miles and I was looking forward to the new challenge when I came down with the flu on January 4th. After the initial agony of realizing I just had to let the virus run its course, I began thinking I had been defeated. As I recovered, I was filled with so much self-doubt I almost convinced myself the missed training runs would be insurmountable.

My sweet husband and a few friends convinced me otherwise... I was so thankful for their confidence in my ability. I was slow-going for a couple of weeks after my recovery but knew I had to "get the miles in" to be able to reach my goal of completing a marathon.

The day I ran 18 miles (my maximum training distance), I began my run slowly. I started trying to talk myself out of running the full distance on that brisk, sunny Monday. I had almost convinced myself to stop at 9 miles and run 18 on Wednesday... when I realized I wanted to say out loud, "I just ran 18 miles!" and I kept running. I finished the run feeling stronger than ever. I had defeated my own doubts and accomplished a seemingly impossible goal!

The last two weeks of training, mileage decreases because the runner starts "tapering" before the marathon. At this point, an 8-mile run felt like 2 miles. I felt so strong. And fast. And healthy. I was also full of anticipation. I didn't doubt myself any longer. My children asked, "What if you don't finish?" I told them, "If I have to crawl, I will finish the marathon."

And, I did.

The most amazing aspect of training for and completing a marathon is what it tells you about yourself. It sets before you what feels impossible. The training challenges not only your physical ability but your mental ability. For me, there was also a spiritual component. I needed to know I could complete this goal. Training for a marathon allowed me to know myself better. It brought out my strengths and my weaknesses. Training empowered me and defeated me. In one run, I could be totally broken down physically, ready to surrender to the pain and exhaustion... but my mind would say, "You can do this! You're almost there. Don't stop!"

Several of my runs were shared with my sister, Mandie, and my friend, Stephanie. The bond between us remains even after our races are finished. We rejoiced in our success and we suffered through our failings. We journeyed together.

I challenge you to go for the seemingly unattainable. I started running seven years ago at my husband's recommendation. At first, I slogged through one mile. I hated running. I told my husband, "Who cares if running adds an average of seven years to a person's life? You spend all those extra years running!" He smiled at me and said, "Just go. Just move. Just run. You will learn to love it." He was right. He had already experienced the thrill of running a marathon and completing an Ironman.

He knew all that I still needed to learn. I'm thankful he encouraged me and believed in me. Now, I believe in you.

Dancing

He tries to tell me how to act but I don't listen.

He denies who I am but they all know.

When he's sure no one is looking he smiles at me. He even asks my opinion. Or says, "I love you."

This morning he wanted a hug.

"Just give me a hug. I need one," he says to me.

After that he'll pour his cereal and demand something from me.

It's a strange and complicated dance. Mother and teenage son.

He only takes my advice if I don't notice. He needs me close if it's on his terms. He figures I have the answers... but he needs to learn it all for himself. He wants me to see him as a man.

He frustrates. He pleases. He triumphs. He fails. Repeating mistakes and learning from others. I wonder at this boy.

"Mama, give me a kiss goodnight."

"I love you, mama. So much."

Beginning Again...

Just back from the first of many training runs for my upcoming first marathon in March, I realized a lot of the old "firsts" are coming back to me.

The "Can I really do this?" questions. The funny, self-imposed routines prior to workouts. (Chapstick. Check. Ipod. Check. Planned route. Check. Socks straight. Check. Shoes tied just tight enough...) The "Will this bother me during the race?" obsessions. (I stopped and readjusted my ponytail twice. It was hitting the back of my right ear over and over again.)

Preparing for a race is always an adventure all on its own. The weather is a factor. Health is a factor. Family circumstances are a factor.

All of these factors can fill me with doubt. They can overwhelm me. Whisperings of failure can plague my mind.

It is the promise of reaching a new goal that fuels my body and helps me overcome my reluctance to "go for it." It is the joy of crossing a finish line. It is the process of training my body and subduing my negative inner voices. It is also the inspiration I can be to others who have dreams of their own.

"I can do this" is my new mantra. "I will succeed" is my continual refrain. There will be days I want to skip a workout. There will be circumstances I have to work around to accomplish my goal.

This is always the way training begins for me. It's a mountain before me I fear I can't climb.

However, as I settle into a routine and I accomplish new mini-goals in my training I am filled with a glorious sense of accomplishment. I know I am one step closer to realizing a dream...

Here we go!

I have made a big, terrifying decision. It has loomed on the horizon since December 2011. It began to take shape when my first grader, Eden, came home and said, "School is boring."

I knew Eden's reading had reached a new level last summer when I noticed she was picking up books my (soon to be) third grader was reading. Eden constantly asked me to define words I didn't think most first graders knew... like elevate, assumption, and repetitive. When she started the first grade, I just mentioned to her teacher I would appreciate if she could have her tested so I would know her reading level. I was just curious.

The third day a note was sent home from her teacher. She was currently reading at a 6th grade level.

Her teacher, Ms. Young, did an excellent job of providing Eden with higher level work. She took the 6th grade spelling test and participated in 3rd grade TAG (Talented and Gifted). Eden still seemed to need more from her educational experience. So, after much prayer and investigation into alternatives I made the decision to home school her.

This is a huge step for me. I am quite selfish when it comes to "my time." I enjoy having time to run, volunteer, and putter around the house.

I am also quite fearful of failure.

However, as I preach to my children... "Failure is a great teacher. Learning from our mistakes is key to constant improvement and eventual success!"

So, here we go! I am nervous. Excited. Overwhelmed. And looking forward to experiencing the joys of learning with my daughter. I hope she won't be bored at her new school...

Look who got glasses today!

Training

Proverbs 22:6 reads, "Train a child in the way he should go; and, even when old, he will not swerve from it." I've been turning this verse over and over in my mind as I attempt to raise my children. I hope my daily doses of direction and discipline aren't going in one ear and out the other...

My mother let me know Lilli "has a problem with talking back" the other day. I try to take negative critiques of my children in stride. It's always hard to hear criticism because I spend so much of my time in child-rearing... I want their behavior to be perfect. Perfect children are a fantasy. And, I choose to live in reality.

I agreed with my mom. I have noticed Lilli's back talking lately and I have started to deal with it. However, I don't parent like she parented. I never have and I (most likely) never will. I felt a great deal of love from my mom growing up. However, I also feared punishment if I disobeyed. This is not a bad thing. I believe my mom was the mother I needed.

I parent with logic. I used to parent with immediate negative consequences to their behaviors when my children were toddlers and pre-schoolers. Now, my girls are in elementary school and my son is almost a teenager. Therefore, I parent differently. My kids have to learn self-control. I can no longer control their actions as I could by "redirecting" them when they were toddlers. They must direct their own actions.

Often when I correct Asher and ask him to stop a behavior, I can see his stubborn will in his response to me. He obeys me but their is defiance right below the surface. I could punish him for the observed defiance... however, would the punishment teach him self-control? Can I force him to respect me? Asher must learn to govern himself. I always point out his disrespect of me. We discuss his responsibility to "honor his father and mother" on a weekly basis.

Lilli does have a problem with back-talking me. I have noticed the problem and I have been quite diligent about pointing it out to her. Should I punish it out of her? Or should I discuss with her how unacceptable her behavior is and give her the time to learn self-discipline? I believe she has to understand the benefits of listening and obeying me. This approach takes time and consistent discipline.

Asher's defiance of authority should be accelerating as he enters the teenage years. I have spoken to many parents who warn me about the coming apocalypse in parenting. I listen to their warnings. I also see my son come to me with a humble attitude after he has been disrespectful. He apologizes, asks for forgiveness, and tells me he loves me. This gives me hope.

Self-discipline is learned. By teaching accountability, respect for authority, and responsibility, I hope I am teaching my children the skills they need for an abundant life. There are many bumps along the road to adulthood. I want to be the hand my children reach for in their walk. I use the rod to guide them into the safety of the sheepfold. That's my method and as long as I continue to see positive results I will use it with patience and love.

In Defense of Motherhood

The latest buzz in the media is Ann Romney, wife of Mitt Romney (the presumed Republican presidential candidate), being referred to as "old fashioned when it comes to women." Democratic strategist, Hilary Rosen, also said Ann Romney "has actually never worked a day in her life."
Ann Romney responded to Rosen's words by opening a Twitter account and tweeting, "I made a choice to stay home and raise five boys. Believe me, it was hard work."

I am not writing about the issue of motherhood because it has become the latest battle ground between the Left and the Right. I am writing about motherhood because I believe it to be the single most important job a woman can have in her life. Women who choose to be a mother are taking on a 24/7 job for a few decades. Elizabeth Stone described motherhood beautifully with her quote... "Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body."

Motherhood is a daily struggle. It is a battle between self-serving and serving others. It is the ultimate laboratory of humanity. It is daily research into what works and what doesn't when raising up a responsible, productive, and loving human being. It is working to provide the best physical nutrition for growing bodies. It is cleaning house. It is finding the words to discipline, comfort, admonish, guide, and love a changeling who sheds growth stages like dirty clothes. It is keeping up with multiple schedules and activities. It is living on a budget. It is explaining the unexplainable. It is lack of sleep. It is rocking babies. It is laughter and tears. It is bandaging wounds. It is giving. It is worry. It is agony and amusement... despair and delight... heartbreak and hope...

Motherhood is a roller coaster of daily ups and downs. Successful motherhood includes failure. In order to succeed in mothering, the desire for success must be greater than the fear of failure. Never giving up is essential in child rearing. Children, in a sense, are a project. However, they are not a project to be thrown in the trash or scrapped because of lack of funding or lost interest. Children are the world's most valuable resource. Therefore, motherhood is the most important job.

I am blessed to be a mother. I am further blessed to be able to make the choice to stay at home. I am exceedingly blessed to have a loving husband who finds great satisfaction in providing for his family. A husband who gives me the freedom to choose to either work for money or to work for my family. A husband who is a terrific father.

I am not "old fashioned." I am educated by the world's standards... holding a Master's degree... However, I am in the middle of earning another degree. I currently attend the University of Motherhood. I have completed pregnancy, birth, infant development, and early childhood. I am now focusing my research and studies on the elementary childhood years and I am just beginning to learn about puberty. Every day I observe, gather information, and conduct experiments. Every day I am tested on my knowledge of what children require to grow into an independent adult. My laboratory is never closed. I also share what I have learned with other mothers. I am currently mentoring my sister. She has graduated from infant studies and is about to enter a year of toddler studies...

The issue of motherhood isn't about whether or not women should work outside of the home. I spent many years working for money. I spent many years pursuing my college degrees. I may enter the work force again and it might be out of necessity. My choice to stay at home should be respected. Stay-at-home mothers should be celebrated... not insulted. Mothers who must work for money should be supported and encouraged. All mothers are women and we must help each other. Motherhood is hard work... no matter the specific path it takes...

"A mother who is really a mother is never free."

-Honore de Balzac

That Smile!

Asher has this certain smile. It only appears when he's really pleased with himself. I saw it a few weeks ago when he made his first basketball goal of the season. And, I just saw it again. This time it was after transferring a significant amount of money out of his bank account into mine.

Asher has always been a "saver." He has saved almost every cent of his birthday money, Christmas money, or money he has earned for the past five years. He loves to watch his bank account grow and has decided against a few large purchases when he analyzed the cost.

He decided last week he wanted a new Itouch. His "old one" didn't have a camera and he really wanted that feature. So, he decided to dig deep and spend some of his savings. I didn't make him transfer his money until his purchase came in the mail. He tracked his purchase for almost a week. He was so excited when it finally landed in Anchorage, Alaska!

After we made the transfer and he had the teller give him his remaining balance, he was already talking about starting to save again to "pay himself back." I asked him, "Well, did that feel good to be able to save your money and have it to spend on something you really wanted?" I saw "the smile" and he answered with an emphatic "yes!"

Now, that's empowerment.

Dear Pissed-Off

The following quotes are from a self-labeled "pissed-off black woman" who spoke at a recent pro-choice rally on the steps of my state Capitol...

"We should not, almost 40 years after the passage of Roe v. Wade, still be standing out here, freezing our butts off, for something that should've been decided a long time ago," she said. "I mean, will these people get a life and stop trying to take over mine?"
"We're on the 39th anniversary of Roe v. Wade and people act like we're in the 19th century and not the 21st," she said. "I tell ya, it pisses me off."
"In 1968, I had a baby through incest because I didn't have a choice," she said. "So, I'm not talking theory, I'm talking as a pissed-off black woman who's going to make sure that other girls don't go through what I went through when I was a teenager."
"I am not impressed by your sanctimonious belief that every pregnancy should be forced, that women should not have control over their bodies and their lives because I also understand that you are not there when the baby is born," she said.
"Once we are there raising these children based on rape and incest and all these bad circumstances, all I can find you doing is standing around preaching over me, judging me, but not actually helping me... and I am not fooled," she said to applause.

I read these words several times and contemplated their meaning. I determined this woman is not pissed off at pro-life advocates. She is pissed off at the abuse she endured as a child because she wasn't protected by her own family. Her "choice" was taken away when she was raped as a teenager.

I feel sad for her. Sad she has been taught to direct her hate at the wrong people. Sad she has been used and abused again by an agenda that preaches sexual freedom yet forgets to look at the reality of murdering children for a few moments of pleasure. Sad she was abused by a man who felt it was okay to rape a young girl for his own gratification.

She says, "these people (should) get a life and stop trying to take over mine." She also says, "...all I can find you doing is standing around preaching over me, judging me, but not actually helping me..." Does she want others to leave her alone and stay out of her business? Or does she want them to help her? Her anger should be directed at those family members who abandoned her to abuse... those family members and those in her own community who took away her choice of whether or not she wanted to become a mother by not protecting her innocence... those who share her pro-choice views and teach a utopia of multiple sexual partners with no responsibility for the result of their sexual unions.

"I am not impressed by your sanctimonious belief that every pregnancy should be forced..." is an interesting statement that I will counteract with... I am not impressed by your belief that your pregnancy is my responsibility and I should be forced to subsidize your abortion which I believe is wrong.

I feel for girls and women who are abused. However, I don't feel responsible for their abuse. I don't abuse them and I don't promote ideas that lead to their abuse. I help where I can. I don't believe funding abortions is helpful to abused women. It's a fact there are many married couples who would be ecstatic to adopt an unwanted newborn. There are also many organizations wanting to help women who find themselves unexpectedly expecting.

I have two daughters of my own. They are under my care. My responsibility is to provide them with a safe environment, to teach them how to care for their bodies, and to advise them on the benefits of wise sexual choices. Additionally, I am teaching them through the example of my own life. It will be their choice to follow my teachings or to totally reject them. They will have to live with the consequences of their actions. Freedom is making choices and dealing with the consequences.

The two sides of this issue will never agree. The two sides come from two totally different realities. My reality is I refuse to abuse my body with irresponsible sexual activity. I refuse to allow my daughters to believe in a system called liberating that will just enslave them in confusion. I refuse to feel responsible for women who want to live their own version of freedom yet don't want to be responsible for their choices.

Other women feel it is their "right" to have multiple sexual partners, have access to medical care to treat STDs, and have access to abortions to get rid of unwanted children. Okay. I don't want to fund those activities. So, quit whining. Go and live your liberated lifestyle. Stand by your sisters who choose the same path. Find your own funding for abortions from your own sisterhood.

I am thankful and forever grateful to my mother who taught me the realities of being a woman. She told me about my choices and advised me to the best ones for my physical, mental, and spiritual health. She was exactly right. I've chosen a better way and I have a life well-lived to prove it. I'll continue to live in the sisterhood of truth and genuine sexual freedom. Now, get a life and stop trying to take over mine.

TMI?

Returning home from our date last Saturday evening, Aunt Martie informed me I needed to have another talk about sex with Lillian. She had asked my sister, "How did you get pregnant?" Martie said she didn't feel prepared to answer her and told her to ask "your mama."

So, I obviously didn't fill Lillian in enough on what sex is when we had the initial "talk" a few months ago. She seemed satisfied with my answer at the time so I stopped before the phrase "penis in the vagina" came into the conversation.

Unlike many other modern moms (who get embarrassed just thinking about "the sex talk"), I have no problem telling my kids about the birds and the bees. In fact, I want my kids to hear about sex from me. (I am an incredibly reliable source. Reliable = disease free, satisfied, and "no regrets".)

I found the perfect time to talk to Lil last Sunday afternoon on our drive over to Oma's house.

Me: "So, Aunt Martie said you had some questions about how she got pregnant with Jemma?"

Lilli: "Yes."

Me: "Remember when we talked about sex a few months ago."

Lilli: "Not really..."

Me: "Well, we've talked about the differences between boys/men/males and girls/women/females before... what are the differences?"

Lilli: "Boys have wieners."

Me: "We don't call them wieners..."

Lilli: "Penises! I know it's called a penis! And girls have a vagina."

Me: "Yes. And inside your body you have something that makes babies..."

Lilli: "Eggs! Oh, I remember this... What do the boys have?"

Me: "Sperm..."

Lilli: "Yes. Inside their balls."

Me: "Yes. Their testicles. (Pause) So, the sperm has to get to the egg. The sperm travels through the penis and goes into the vagina to reach the egg. This is called sex and sex makes a baby."

Lilli: "How does the sperm get into the vagina?"

Me: "The penis fits into the vagina."

Lilli: "How? (Pause) (Thinking face.) Oh... that's when you get naked and wiggle around..." (Pause) (Slight horror on her face beginning to show...) Martie and Ross? Did that?"

Me: "Yes."

Lilli: (More horror on her face...) "You and Daddy?"

Me: "Yes."

Lilli: (Ultimate horror now...) "Grammy and Grandy?!?!? Oh, gross! Nasty! I'm never having a baby! I'm never doing that!"

Me: "Okay. But you will probably want to some day when you fall in love."

We pulled up to Oma's house and I put the car in park.

Lilli: "Do you have sex with your boyfriend?"

Me: "No. Your sex is a gift you give your husband."

Lilli: "Oh. Good."

And, that was that.

Two down. One to go...

~ "I don't care about sex. I just want a pony." -Lillian ~

9th

Today we celebrate Lillian's 9th birthday! Lil is my child of contrasts... very organized, always prepared, unbelievable memory, highly confident... always asking, "Where are my shoes?" I have decided she thinks the car is her second closet.

Socially, she is amazingly adept. Her friends are an interesting mix... a motley crew of girls and boys. She understands the "ins and outs" of friendship, treats others with respect, and is known and loved by all... except her one and only sister. (I suppose fighting is just a part of having to share a room with a little sister. I'm hoping the sibling rivalry stays in check...)

She is smart, loves her teacher, works hard at learning, and does her school work to perfection... yet doubts herself in math and often "forgets" her homework until remembering... right before bedtime.

She learns her many sports by paying attention to detail. She enjoys goal-keeping in soccer. She is an expert dribbler in basketball. Her arabesque in ballet is done with precision. She swims with flawless strokes... not worried about winning. She's all about the socializing with her teammates!

She loves monkeys. She never forgets to feed her fish. She organizes her clutter. 

I wish she wouldn't talk back. I wish she would be kinder to her sister. I wish she wouldn't find blame elsewhere when it was obviously her fault. I see in her so much potential. I suppose it's the way my Creator looks at me. I love having a daughter who strives to be her best. I pray I am always here (and there) to give her good advice and to support and love her in her life's work.

Happy 9th, my sweet Lillian. I love you.

2012.

The first day of a new year.

Always filled with promise. Such potential. A clean slate.

And, then?

As we distance ourselves from January 1st, what do we have? More of the same? Broken resolutions?

Or do we truly make something better for ourselves? Our family? Our community? Our world?

Do we discover a better way? Or do we just repeat last year... whining because of another season of coulda' shoulda' woulda'?

My hope is we will all find inspiration from somewhere or someone to live in a better way. I hope to learn from self-discovery. I also hope to learn from others. My hope is I improve who I am... no matter my circumstance. My hope is I realize the value of both the "ups and downs" I will encounter in the next 365 days.

(Written in my Iphone "notes" on January 1, 2012.)