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Dandelion Prayers
Sibling squabbles. Where to begin? My kids are young, so it has indeed, “only just begun” for me. However, I have already had my fill of the bickering. Not yet have I recorded how many days are “good” days, when my children enjoy each other and play nicely, but I should, because chances are high there are better days then I think.
The problem is, at 3-1/2 years old and 17 months, my kids are still at a vulnerable age in which sharing, tantrums and a sense of fair-play are hard to manage. Emotions ascend mountain tops over something as simple as whether the cardboard box they are in is supposed to be a train or a pirate ship. My daughter, being the older child and able to grasp the rules of playing fair, is especially struggling when she doesn’t feel like adhering to the rules, or when her brother is the naughty one. My son, not yet able to use words to express his anger, his wants or his complaints, does a lot of screaming and throwing.
I let them have their own quiet time to play in their rooms. This is particularly helpful for my daughter, who enjoys her right to not always share with her brother. I allow her to shut her door and have time to herself.
Lately she makes claim over whatever toy her brother has, or, for that matter, any toy he doesn’t have, but looks at, therefore may consider playing with. Sometimes, she cleverly tries to disguise this by offering him a different, less exciting toy instead. Given that he is now old enough not to fall for this, she has resorted to old fashion bullying. Last week, after she snatched his toy and made him cry by holding it out of his reach, I stepped in and told her to stop being a bully to her little brother. “But how do I stop being a bully?” she asked.
“You start by not grabbing toys away from him when he is playing with them,” I retorted. “You know how to be nice, take turns and share.”
I went on to elucidate that he is learning from her how to behave. If she acts nice, he will learn to act nice, if she acts like a bully, then he will learn to be a bully, too. She asked again, “but HOW do I stop being a bully?” I tried simplifying it further. She knows how to be nice. I could see she was still giving it thought, but she gave the toy back and left him alone.
A few days later, outside, she found a white wishing dandelion. I told her to make a wish, expecting to hear her desire for a goldfish or a new Barbie. “I wish…” she paused with reflection. “I wish I could stop being a bully to my brother.”
My heart ached.
She obviously did not like it about herself that she could be a bully at times and wasn’t sure how to change her behavior. I joined my daughter in the grass. It takes practice, I told her, to think before we do things. Even grown-ups have to practice this, I confessed. We must listen to the little voice God gives us that tells our thoughts whether it is something nice to do, or something not nice. It feels good and makes God happy when we’re nice. I went over “the golden rule,” do unto others as you would have done unto you. This, by the way, is the same lesson of ethics across the spectrum, no matter what religion you are. (Because I’m now a homeschooling mom, I’ve since dug up unit studies around The Golden Rule to incorporate into our curriculum and focus on in the coming weeks. Everything is a lesson!)
I also let her know, if there is something we want to change about ourselves but it feels too big to change alone, that is what God is there for. “Just like the wish you made on that dandelion,” I explained. “You say that in a prayer to God, in your heart, and ask Him to help you.”
As the bible reminds us, God does not want us to rely on our own strengths, but on Him. “Look to the Lord for His strength; seek His face always.” -1 Chronicles 16:11
It is invaluable to teach my children, and it is a lesson I am still trying to learn. When we need to overcome something, the power and necessity of prayer lasts our entire lives. We face challenges and pray for strength in place of our weaknesses. That does not wither away simply because you outgrow making dandelion wishes.
Come to think of it, why should any of us outgrow making dandelion wishes, anyway?
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The problem is, at 3-1/2 years old and 17 months, my kids are still at a vulnerable age in which sharing, tantrums and a sense of fair-play are hard to manage. Emotions ascend mountain tops over something as simple as whether the cardboard box they are in is supposed to be a train or a pirate ship. My daughter, being the older child and able to grasp the rules of playing fair, is especially struggling when she doesn’t feel like adhering to the rules, or when her brother is the naughty one. My son, not yet able to use words to express his anger, his wants or his complaints, does a lot of screaming and throwing.
I let them have their own quiet time to play in their rooms. This is particularly helpful for my daughter, who enjoys her right to not always share with her brother. I allow her to shut her door and have time to herself.
Lately she makes claim over whatever toy her brother has, or, for that matter, any toy he doesn’t have, but looks at, therefore may consider playing with. Sometimes, she cleverly tries to disguise this by offering him a different, less exciting toy instead. Given that he is now old enough not to fall for this, she has resorted to old fashion bullying. Last week, after she snatched his toy and made him cry by holding it out of his reach, I stepped in and told her to stop being a bully to her little brother. “But how do I stop being a bully?” she asked.
“You start by not grabbing toys away from him when he is playing with them,” I retorted. “You know how to be nice, take turns and share.”
I went on to elucidate that he is learning from her how to behave. If she acts nice, he will learn to act nice, if she acts like a bully, then he will learn to be a bully, too. She asked again, “but HOW do I stop being a bully?” I tried simplifying it further. She knows how to be nice. I could see she was still giving it thought, but she gave the toy back and left him alone.
A few days later, outside, she found a white wishing dandelion. I told her to make a wish, expecting to hear her desire for a goldfish or a new Barbie. “I wish…” she paused with reflection. “I wish I could stop being a bully to my brother.”
My heart ached.
She obviously did not like it about herself that she could be a bully at times and wasn’t sure how to change her behavior. I joined my daughter in the grass. It takes practice, I told her, to think before we do things. Even grown-ups have to practice this, I confessed. We must listen to the little voice God gives us that tells our thoughts whether it is something nice to do, or something not nice. It feels good and makes God happy when we’re nice. I went over “the golden rule,” do unto others as you would have done unto you. This, by the way, is the same lesson of ethics across the spectrum, no matter what religion you are. (Because I’m now a homeschooling mom, I’ve since dug up unit studies around The Golden Rule to incorporate into our curriculum and focus on in the coming weeks. Everything is a lesson!)
I also let her know, if there is something we want to change about ourselves but it feels too big to change alone, that is what God is there for. “Just like the wish you made on that dandelion,” I explained. “You say that in a prayer to God, in your heart, and ask Him to help you.”
As the bible reminds us, God does not want us to rely on our own strengths, but on Him. “Look to the Lord for His strength; seek His face always.” -1 Chronicles 16:11
It is invaluable to teach my children, and it is a lesson I am still trying to learn. When we need to overcome something, the power and necessity of prayer lasts our entire lives. We face challenges and pray for strength in place of our weaknesses. That does not wither away simply because you outgrow making dandelion wishes.
Come to think of it, why should any of us outgrow making dandelion wishes, anyway?
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Cheers to Grace
I watched a segment on 20/20 regarding stay-at-home moms who secretly drink. Consumed by the lack of appreciation, loneliness, and sometimes mundane repetition that can accompany the tasks of raising children, these women have become closet alcoholics. One of the featured moms even published a book entitled, “Nap Time is the New Happy Hour,” which encouraged humor and cocktails to cope with the struggles of motherhood.
Initially, I found myself judging. “Please!” I thought, “I’ve had days when my babies are both screaming, won’t sleep, hang-on-me-through-every-last-disgusting-dirty-dish-in-the-sink that I’m washing by hand due to a broken, useless dishwasher while I have not showered or brushed my teeth in days… and I don’t fill my morning coffee cup with wine!”
Then I realized, I easily could have. In fact, I have had days where, if there had been alcohol in the house, I know for certain I would have turned to liquid courage. It is precisely the inspiration that started me writing this column in the first place! Sitting unshowered, half dressed and at my wits end with screaming, inconsolable kids, I searched my mind for a fix to escape, relax and unwind. Through the grace of God, I used prayer and His mercy as my fix. I have since been able to rely on Him through the times I have felt like ripping every last one of my rapidly-turning-gray hairs from my head.
My husband and I do not drink. There’s not even a bottle of wine lying around our house. Are we prudes? Perhaps. I have a long line of alcoholics in my family, including my father, who, due to his unstable behavior and severe alcoholism has never met my children. I decided nearly a decade ago that, while I didn’t have a problem with alcohol, it was best to stay away from it all together. If there were clear lines in the sand that showed “this many drinks” (whether socially or habitually) means you are addicted, then there would be no such thing as alcoholics. Everyone would simply stay one drink away from the line. Since there are no clear lines in the sand, and given my family history and tendencies to fall into bad habits, I steer clear from the party beach. We make our own lame-fun parties with bean-bag tosses and monopoly.
It is through God’s mercy that I am not one of those closet alcoholic mommies featured on 20/20. Instead of using humor and cocktails to cope with the struggles of mamahood, I use humor and faith. I write this column, in part, hoping to inspire others to do the same.
“God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.” -Psalm 46:1
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Initially, I found myself judging. “Please!” I thought, “I’ve had days when my babies are both screaming, won’t sleep, hang-on-me-through-every-last-disgusting-dirty-dish-in-the-sink that I’m washing by hand due to a broken, useless dishwasher while I have not showered or brushed my teeth in days… and I don’t fill my morning coffee cup with wine!”
Then I realized, I easily could have. In fact, I have had days where, if there had been alcohol in the house, I know for certain I would have turned to liquid courage. It is precisely the inspiration that started me writing this column in the first place! Sitting unshowered, half dressed and at my wits end with screaming, inconsolable kids, I searched my mind for a fix to escape, relax and unwind. Through the grace of God, I used prayer and His mercy as my fix. I have since been able to rely on Him through the times I have felt like ripping every last one of my rapidly-turning-gray hairs from my head.
My husband and I do not drink. There’s not even a bottle of wine lying around our house. Are we prudes? Perhaps. I have a long line of alcoholics in my family, including my father, who, due to his unstable behavior and severe alcoholism has never met my children. I decided nearly a decade ago that, while I didn’t have a problem with alcohol, it was best to stay away from it all together. If there were clear lines in the sand that showed “this many drinks” (whether socially or habitually) means you are addicted, then there would be no such thing as alcoholics. Everyone would simply stay one drink away from the line. Since there are no clear lines in the sand, and given my family history and tendencies to fall into bad habits, I steer clear from the party beach. We make our own lame-fun parties with bean-bag tosses and monopoly.
It is through God’s mercy that I am not one of those closet alcoholic mommies featured on 20/20. Instead of using humor and cocktails to cope with the struggles of mamahood, I use humor and faith. I write this column, in part, hoping to inspire others to do the same.
“God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.” -Psalm 46:1
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The Illusion of Super-Mom
A dear friend of mine, who I admire greatly in her abilities as a mom, a wife, a homemaker, and a gifted artist, recently sent me an email that left me scratching my head. “I have to tell you,” she wrote, “I really admire you… you're my one friend who's advice I'd take above all else on the subject of being a mom. Not only do you ‘do it all’ it seems, but it appears you do it all so well!”
Goodness, me! Had she sent it to the wrong inbox? As much as I would love to gobble up that amazing compliment and pat myself on the back for being Super Mom of the Year, it just isn’t so! I do not "do it all" or even, "all so well"!
I am a terrible housekeeper, dinner doesn't make it to the table on time 5 out of 7 days of the week, I ignore my kids more than I should, I let my husband "fend for himself" more often than not, I spend too much time on facebook and other online message boards, I can’t use a sewing machine to save my life, I don’t clip coupons like I should and forget about stocking my house with all-organic food. I am flawed in nearly every aspect of homemaking! I see other moms who have time to quilt, or make homemade bread, or make breakfast from scratch more than just on Saturdays, (and have MORE KIDS than I do!), and I think, "ugh! I'm a lazy, lousy, good-for-nothin' housewife!" Right now, for instance, I chose to put my kids to bed without their bath, because I selfishly felt like writing this column instead! Sure, their teeth are brushed, they got tucked in and read a book, given kisses and such… but they are covered in marker doodles, play-doh, and specks of spaghetti sauce from the Stouffer’s Easy Express Cheese Manicotti that I “micro-baked” in 16 minutes along with some steam-fresh microwave broccoli when I looked up at the clock at quarter to 5 and realized my husband would be pulling in the driveway any second--tired and hungry--and dinner hadn’t even crossed my mind.
In spite of all these flaws (and more!) we’ve decided we are going to homeschool the kids. (Yep, as if I’m not crazy enough to think I can handle this wacky road of parenthood, I’ve decided to add “teacher” to my stay-at-home mom resume and tackle their education along with the heaping piles of laundry! Better open Belleview back up!) Even though my kids are still 3 and 1, I’ve been busier than ever trying to research, plan and prepare for the journey ahead. If that wasn’t enough, I’m also now an assistant organizer for a local homeschool support group which is just getting off the ground and running (and growing faster than we can keep up with) so I’ve got my brain full of things like co-op classes, field trips, clubs and newsletters. God didn’t waste a second putting me to work in the world of homeschooling the very moment we decided to take the leap.
So, when I have a friend tell me I appear able to “do it all,” I must smile, say thank you, while simultaneously shouting out, “IT’S NOT TRUE!” If it appears I do it all, then that is an illusion. I don’t! No one can! We all have flaws, we all have areas we take pride in above others. We all have strengths and weaknesses. We all do the best we can, even when we feel like we’re at our worst. Why? Because we all love our kids. That’s one thing moms have in common whether they sew or not, whether they cook or not, whether their house is a showcase or a clutter nest, whether they make their own laundry soap or just buy what’s on sale, whether they are crafty or couldn’t make a homemade card stand up straight, and whether they take their kids on weekly outings to the museum and theatre or just to the nearest park. We all must feel at times like other moms are doing it better than us, but that can’t be true, because God didn’t give our kids to those other moms, He gave them to us, and He never gives us more than we can handle.
“No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it.” - 1 Corinthians 10:13
Want more proof my house isn’t perfect? Here are my undressed kids eating popcorn in the middle of the day watching a Disney movie…
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Goodness, me! Had she sent it to the wrong inbox? As much as I would love to gobble up that amazing compliment and pat myself on the back for being Super Mom of the Year, it just isn’t so! I do not "do it all" or even, "all so well"!
I am a terrible housekeeper, dinner doesn't make it to the table on time 5 out of 7 days of the week, I ignore my kids more than I should, I let my husband "fend for himself" more often than not, I spend too much time on facebook and other online message boards, I can’t use a sewing machine to save my life, I don’t clip coupons like I should and forget about stocking my house with all-organic food. I am flawed in nearly every aspect of homemaking! I see other moms who have time to quilt, or make homemade bread, or make breakfast from scratch more than just on Saturdays, (and have MORE KIDS than I do!), and I think, "ugh! I'm a lazy, lousy, good-for-nothin' housewife!" Right now, for instance, I chose to put my kids to bed without their bath, because I selfishly felt like writing this column instead! Sure, their teeth are brushed, they got tucked in and read a book, given kisses and such… but they are covered in marker doodles, play-doh, and specks of spaghetti sauce from the Stouffer’s Easy Express Cheese Manicotti that I “micro-baked” in 16 minutes along with some steam-fresh microwave broccoli when I looked up at the clock at quarter to 5 and realized my husband would be pulling in the driveway any second--tired and hungry--and dinner hadn’t even crossed my mind.
In spite of all these flaws (and more!) we’ve decided we are going to homeschool the kids. (Yep, as if I’m not crazy enough to think I can handle this wacky road of parenthood, I’ve decided to add “teacher” to my stay-at-home mom resume and tackle their education along with the heaping piles of laundry! Better open Belleview back up!) Even though my kids are still 3 and 1, I’ve been busier than ever trying to research, plan and prepare for the journey ahead. If that wasn’t enough, I’m also now an assistant organizer for a local homeschool support group which is just getting off the ground and running (and growing faster than we can keep up with) so I’ve got my brain full of things like co-op classes, field trips, clubs and newsletters. God didn’t waste a second putting me to work in the world of homeschooling the very moment we decided to take the leap.
So, when I have a friend tell me I appear able to “do it all,” I must smile, say thank you, while simultaneously shouting out, “IT’S NOT TRUE!” If it appears I do it all, then that is an illusion. I don’t! No one can! We all have flaws, we all have areas we take pride in above others. We all have strengths and weaknesses. We all do the best we can, even when we feel like we’re at our worst. Why? Because we all love our kids. That’s one thing moms have in common whether they sew or not, whether they cook or not, whether their house is a showcase or a clutter nest, whether they make their own laundry soap or just buy what’s on sale, whether they are crafty or couldn’t make a homemade card stand up straight, and whether they take their kids on weekly outings to the museum and theatre or just to the nearest park. We all must feel at times like other moms are doing it better than us, but that can’t be true, because God didn’t give our kids to those other moms, He gave them to us, and He never gives us more than we can handle.
“No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it.” - 1 Corinthians 10:13
Want more proof my house isn’t perfect? Here are my undressed kids eating popcorn in the middle of the day watching a Disney movie…
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Lost in the world of imagination
A stray Dalmatian wandered through our yard recently. It would not come to us, but you can imagine our 3-year-old daughter’s elation, especially since she happened to be wearing her 101 Dalmatian pajama pants at that very moment! You would think her favorite movie came to life before her eyes, as though wearing those pants made the dog appear.
One of my favorite aspects of parenting is witnessing my children become lost in their own little worlds of imagination. The possibilities seem as endless, vast and borderless as the universe. As a child, if you are lucky enough to be gifted the opportunity and time to get lost in your imagination, it becomes as strong and vivid as any treasured memories, and more powerful than that which is concrete. As Albert Einstein explained, “Imagination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the world.”
At our house, imagination goes hand-in-hand with childhood. Our dress-up chest is overflowing with costumes and props, large cardboard boxes are frequently transformed into hand-decorated fire trucks or trains, and our entire living room will occasionally become a gigantic blanket fort that is typically either a mouse hole or a dog house, but has also been known to be a cave to bears, octopuses and lions.
As fascinating and powerful as my children’s imaginations are, still more enthralling is that which is imagined by our Creator. This beautiful world and all that we are capable of imagining or creating within it was first envisaged by Him. Even our wildest imaginations cannot grasp the full essence of God, nor, for that matter, what He has planned for our lives. “No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has imagined what God has prepared for those who love him.” -1 Corinthians 2:9
That which we are capable of imagining, as beautiful and creative as it is, and as alive and wondrous as it is in children, is but a small reflection of the creative beauty He imagines. From the smallest speck of splashed color on an isolated wildflower or cloud captured rays of a sunset, to the genius workings of the circle of life—His Mind’s Eye is ever joyous, His abilities beyond measure. “Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us.” –Ephesians 3:20
Whether a paper towel roll turned telescope is transporting them across the ocean to buried treasure or dogs are coming to life from the magic of their pajamas, I truly hope the essence and beauty of imagination lives forever in the hearts of my children. Perhaps tomorrow, if our daughter wears her Ariel shirt, a mermaid will splash out of the neighbor’s pond. We can only imagine!
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One of my favorite aspects of parenting is witnessing my children become lost in their own little worlds of imagination. The possibilities seem as endless, vast and borderless as the universe. As a child, if you are lucky enough to be gifted the opportunity and time to get lost in your imagination, it becomes as strong and vivid as any treasured memories, and more powerful than that which is concrete. As Albert Einstein explained, “Imagination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the world.”
At our house, imagination goes hand-in-hand with childhood. Our dress-up chest is overflowing with costumes and props, large cardboard boxes are frequently transformed into hand-decorated fire trucks or trains, and our entire living room will occasionally become a gigantic blanket fort that is typically either a mouse hole or a dog house, but has also been known to be a cave to bears, octopuses and lions.
As fascinating and powerful as my children’s imaginations are, still more enthralling is that which is imagined by our Creator. This beautiful world and all that we are capable of imagining or creating within it was first envisaged by Him. Even our wildest imaginations cannot grasp the full essence of God, nor, for that matter, what He has planned for our lives. “No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has imagined what God has prepared for those who love him.” -1 Corinthians 2:9
That which we are capable of imagining, as beautiful and creative as it is, and as alive and wondrous as it is in children, is but a small reflection of the creative beauty He imagines. From the smallest speck of splashed color on an isolated wildflower or cloud captured rays of a sunset, to the genius workings of the circle of life—His Mind’s Eye is ever joyous, His abilities beyond measure. “Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us.” –Ephesians 3:20
Whether a paper towel roll turned telescope is transporting them across the ocean to buried treasure or dogs are coming to life from the magic of their pajamas, I truly hope the essence and beauty of imagination lives forever in the hearts of my children. Perhaps tomorrow, if our daughter wears her Ariel shirt, a mermaid will splash out of the neighbor’s pond. We can only imagine!
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Mr. Clean to the rescue!
With a 3-year-old daughter who loves to color every day, and a 1-year-old son who wants to imitate but has yet to master the concept of not eating crayons or using my walls as a canvas, I’m bound to wind up with some crayon marks on the wall.
I am quite certain the little stress of coloring on the walls would be, in my world, a much more magnified disaster if not for one tiny miracle product. Moms, if you haven’t yet discovered this modern marvel, I have the blessing of four small words for you: Mr. Clean Magic Eraser.
Now, granted, there are much more powerful things in this world than Mr. Clean Magic Eraser pads to offer a path toward salvation. Take baptism, for example. But, similar to baptism, they sure appear to contain the regenerative power to wash away sins! No longer do I have to feel my blood pressure rise with despair as I watch my son happily defacing the walls, chairs and other furniture with his small wax weapon of choice. I can simply hand him a piece of paper to redirect his artistic efforts and sigh with relief. Yes, it really is that simple. The cleansing pads don’t look like much at first glance. Initially, you think, “Yeah, right! How is this feather-weight marshmallow square going to remove something an SOS pad couldn’t put a dent in?” Then viola! Right before your eyes, you witness the only product containing the word “magic” that astonishingly seems to live up to it’s title. Crayon marks, coffee stains, mysterious black scuff marks that until now no amount of elbow grease could uncover, is effortlessly disappearing with minimum effort. No, I’m not selling them. If I were, I’d be faring much better in these economic times than we are with my being a stay-at-home mom. It is just an amazing phenomenon. How do they work? I may never fully understand. Then again, there are a lot of things on the grander scale of faith that are even more unbelievable, mysterious and marvelous. And, while Mr. Clean Magic Eraser is not an actual requirement for spiritual sanity or salvation; some days, when life as a stay-at-home mom is filled with continuously scrubbing the walls of peanut butter, diaper cream, and Crayola murals, it feels like the little miracles can make a big difference.
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I am quite certain the little stress of coloring on the walls would be, in my world, a much more magnified disaster if not for one tiny miracle product. Moms, if you haven’t yet discovered this modern marvel, I have the blessing of four small words for you: Mr. Clean Magic Eraser.
Now, granted, there are much more powerful things in this world than Mr. Clean Magic Eraser pads to offer a path toward salvation. Take baptism, for example. But, similar to baptism, they sure appear to contain the regenerative power to wash away sins! No longer do I have to feel my blood pressure rise with despair as I watch my son happily defacing the walls, chairs and other furniture with his small wax weapon of choice. I can simply hand him a piece of paper to redirect his artistic efforts and sigh with relief. Yes, it really is that simple. The cleansing pads don’t look like much at first glance. Initially, you think, “Yeah, right! How is this feather-weight marshmallow square going to remove something an SOS pad couldn’t put a dent in?” Then viola! Right before your eyes, you witness the only product containing the word “magic” that astonishingly seems to live up to it’s title. Crayon marks, coffee stains, mysterious black scuff marks that until now no amount of elbow grease could uncover, is effortlessly disappearing with minimum effort. No, I’m not selling them. If I were, I’d be faring much better in these economic times than we are with my being a stay-at-home mom. It is just an amazing phenomenon. How do they work? I may never fully understand. Then again, there are a lot of things on the grander scale of faith that are even more unbelievable, mysterious and marvelous. And, while Mr. Clean Magic Eraser is not an actual requirement for spiritual sanity or salvation; some days, when life as a stay-at-home mom is filled with continuously scrubbing the walls of peanut butter, diaper cream, and Crayola murals, it feels like the little miracles can make a big difference.
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"It's Groundhog Day!"
Laundry, dishes, diapers, meals, toys, vacuum, dishes, laundry, diapers, toys, meals, diapers, vacuum… life as a stay-at-home mom can often resemble the feeling captured in Bill Murray’s Groundhog Day. “I’m reliving the same day over and over,” stated by Bill’s character Phil Conners, a weatherman stuck in a time loop on February 2, could be the mantra of many moms, especially during the last six weeks of winter.
Faced with his gloomy forecast, Murray’s character starts out extremely pessimistic and bleakly hopeless, but as the movie progresses, he slowly starts to learn the valuable lesson that true change can only come from within.
The truth is, that while God gives us the freedom of will and choice, the truly important outcomes, if we search within ourselves and trust in Him, are in His hands, in His time. That is why, similar to Groundhog Day, we cannot control the actions of anyone but ourselves. We can shape, influence, discipline, advise and teach, but it is up to our children whether they will heed the lessons and apply them. You can tell your toddler not to hit, your preschooler to say please, your teenager to just say no to drugs, but in the end, the decision for their actions is ultimately theirs. The better we know our children, the less we will worry about the choices they will make. “Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it.”- Proverbs 22:6
Zoom out on the bigger picture, and our Father, who knows our souls better than we know ourselves, is parenting us all the same. Some things He knows we have to learn for ourselves, other things He will show to us. Also, akin to the plot of Groundhog Day, there are even times He puts our own metaphorical blizzards in place, as a roadblock around our situations, to keep us right where we are until we get it right.
However relatable the funny repetition in the movie Groundhog Day can be, Conners is a man with no future, which is impossible to experience while raising human beings. God has tomorrows in store for us, even when it may feel as though there wasn’t one today.
“’For I know the plans I have for you,’ says the Lord. ‘They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.’" –Jeremiah 29:11 (NLT)
On days when you feel like Phil Conners felt when he said, “It’s gonna be cold, it’s gonna be grey, and it’s gonna last you for the rest of your life,” just remember God promises rainbows after the rain, and spring following each winter. Just as Conners discovers at the end of the movie, “Today is tomorrow. It happened.”
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Faced with his gloomy forecast, Murray’s character starts out extremely pessimistic and bleakly hopeless, but as the movie progresses, he slowly starts to learn the valuable lesson that true change can only come from within.
The truth is, that while God gives us the freedom of will and choice, the truly important outcomes, if we search within ourselves and trust in Him, are in His hands, in His time. That is why, similar to Groundhog Day, we cannot control the actions of anyone but ourselves. We can shape, influence, discipline, advise and teach, but it is up to our children whether they will heed the lessons and apply them. You can tell your toddler not to hit, your preschooler to say please, your teenager to just say no to drugs, but in the end, the decision for their actions is ultimately theirs. The better we know our children, the less we will worry about the choices they will make. “Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it.”- Proverbs 22:6
Zoom out on the bigger picture, and our Father, who knows our souls better than we know ourselves, is parenting us all the same. Some things He knows we have to learn for ourselves, other things He will show to us. Also, akin to the plot of Groundhog Day, there are even times He puts our own metaphorical blizzards in place, as a roadblock around our situations, to keep us right where we are until we get it right.
However relatable the funny repetition in the movie Groundhog Day can be, Conners is a man with no future, which is impossible to experience while raising human beings. God has tomorrows in store for us, even when it may feel as though there wasn’t one today.
“’For I know the plans I have for you,’ says the Lord. ‘They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.’" –Jeremiah 29:11 (NLT)
On days when you feel like Phil Conners felt when he said, “It’s gonna be cold, it’s gonna be grey, and it’s gonna last you for the rest of your life,” just remember God promises rainbows after the rain, and spring following each winter. Just as Conners discovers at the end of the movie, “Today is tomorrow. It happened.”
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ONE POINT TWENTY-ONE GIGAWATTS? Prayer can be the bolt of lightening you require
I need a do-over day today. I needed a do-over since before the day began. In fact, I required a reset button before the sun came up. My son had his 1-year check-up yesterday. I declined his Chickenpox vaccine, but he still got two shots, the last in a series he was due. At 2:30 a.m., I was giving him another dose of Tylenol and by the time he was back asleep, my husband’s 3:45 a.m. alarm was buzzing. At 4, I decided it may be a good idea, as tired as I was, to get my much-needed shower in before my husband left for work and the kids woke up. Note to self: bad idea. It did not result in a quiet, calm, kid-free start to the day. Instead, I wound up with my 3-year-old daughter in the shower with me and my son in a screaming, crying fit in his dad’s tired arms. Even with the three of us back to sleep from 5-7, I still have had grouchy, rest-deprived, misbehaving children the duration of the day. I keep thinking, if I could just go back to that 4 o’clock hour and undo my decision to shuffle into the shower, all would be fine. Alas, lacking a DeLorean, Flex-capacitor and 1.21 gigawatts, it cannot be undone. So, onward and upward with the day!
It feels next to impossible to keep my composure in tact on days like today, when so many factors are working against us. Lack of sleep, teething, shots, terrible-3 temper tantrums, spilt milk and flung applesauce, even a van with a dead battery that won’t start after I have the kids bundled up and loaded in, topped off with a joint-injured, limping dog that can hardly get up and down the back steps in the snow and ice.
When I am worn down and weak, I know I am an easy target to let evil and anger consume my day. It is tricky finding peace and praise when you are surrounded by pandemonium. But the Bible tells us that we should be alert and mindful in the face of challenges. “Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.” -1 Peter 5:8
Instead of hunting down Marty McFly, or losing my cool yet again with round 12 of time-outs, I decided to take my own time-out, along with a sequence of deep breaths and seek out the presence and patience of the Lord at my side. I may not get a do-over for the day, but God has another day in store for me tomorrow, and His promise to help me survive days like today. “Do not fear, for I am with you; do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, surely I will help you." - Isaiah 41:10
As it turns out, when it feels as though my only escape is hitting 88 miles per hour in a cheesy 1985 film, all I need is the even more powerful drive of graceful prayer.
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It feels next to impossible to keep my composure in tact on days like today, when so many factors are working against us. Lack of sleep, teething, shots, terrible-3 temper tantrums, spilt milk and flung applesauce, even a van with a dead battery that won’t start after I have the kids bundled up and loaded in, topped off with a joint-injured, limping dog that can hardly get up and down the back steps in the snow and ice.
When I am worn down and weak, I know I am an easy target to let evil and anger consume my day. It is tricky finding peace and praise when you are surrounded by pandemonium. But the Bible tells us that we should be alert and mindful in the face of challenges. “Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.” -1 Peter 5:8
Instead of hunting down Marty McFly, or losing my cool yet again with round 12 of time-outs, I decided to take my own time-out, along with a sequence of deep breaths and seek out the presence and patience of the Lord at my side. I may not get a do-over for the day, but God has another day in store for me tomorrow, and His promise to help me survive days like today. “Do not fear, for I am with you; do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, surely I will help you." - Isaiah 41:10
As it turns out, when it feels as though my only escape is hitting 88 miles per hour in a cheesy 1985 film, all I need is the even more powerful drive of graceful prayer.
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Happy Holidays, not hectic ones
Black Friday is a bit of a conundrum to me. There is something insincere in the detail that less than 12 hours after Thanksgiving dinner, a meal at which we gather to reflect on all that we are grateful for, folks are literally losing sleep to rush, race and shove their way to accumulate more. On the other hand, with the indulgent heights of consumerism, one could argue we are lucky to get one day of Thanks before the days of MORE resume.
I am not saying I have never participated in early morning shopping on the big sale day in excitement for Christmas. Or that I never will again. Simply that we should pause with awareness, and examine our own raison d'être, or, reason for being. What is our basic, essential purpose, what are our motivations behind what we get swept up with over the holidays? What is driving us? If I were willing to get up in the wee hours of the morning to wait in line for the newest “gadgets” or deals of the year, would I, in turn, be willing to get up at that hour to, say, prep a food kitchen for the poor?
As a stay-at-home mom to a 3-year-old and 1-year-old, I need to watch the road I’m going down more so than ever, as I am not the only passenger anymore. My husband and I must live the example we want our children to follow. If I want them to learn that the Lord should be our guide, then I have to strive to let my actions be driven by Him, rather than the driving forces of advertisements, social standards, or what the Jones do.
After all, as the bible tells us, “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.”
I’m not above a little retail therapy. I like to shop as much as the next mom out there and my kids are certainly spoiled in the way of toys. Our cup runneth over, and yet our tree will still be crowded with boxes, bags and bows. While our children receive more than their share of gifts, we also place just as much emphasis on our charitable activities and teaching the fun rewards of giving.
“In everything I did, I showed you that by this kind of hard work we must help the weak, remembering the words the Lord Jesus himself said: 'It is more blessed to give than to receive.' "–Acts 20:35
There are many different beliefs, traditions, religions and customs this time of year. No matter a person’s faith, I think that, in the hustle bustle of the retail world and emphasis on Santa, wish lists and material goods, even honest terms of sentiment such as “it’s the thought that counts” or “the reason for the season” can become merely hackneyed phrases.
This time of year will only be hurried, chaotic and stressful if we allow it to be. My goal this holiday season is to enjoy the flavor without rush, reflect and create without guilt, and to savor the magic. And it starts with the homemade cookies I am about to bake with my kids, mess and mayhem included. But hey, with young kids, even a cup of calm comes with a dash of bedlam, doesn’t it?
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I am not saying I have never participated in early morning shopping on the big sale day in excitement for Christmas. Or that I never will again. Simply that we should pause with awareness, and examine our own raison d'être, or, reason for being. What is our basic, essential purpose, what are our motivations behind what we get swept up with over the holidays? What is driving us? If I were willing to get up in the wee hours of the morning to wait in line for the newest “gadgets” or deals of the year, would I, in turn, be willing to get up at that hour to, say, prep a food kitchen for the poor?
As a stay-at-home mom to a 3-year-old and 1-year-old, I need to watch the road I’m going down more so than ever, as I am not the only passenger anymore. My husband and I must live the example we want our children to follow. If I want them to learn that the Lord should be our guide, then I have to strive to let my actions be driven by Him, rather than the driving forces of advertisements, social standards, or what the Jones do.
After all, as the bible tells us, “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.”
I’m not above a little retail therapy. I like to shop as much as the next mom out there and my kids are certainly spoiled in the way of toys. Our cup runneth over, and yet our tree will still be crowded with boxes, bags and bows. While our children receive more than their share of gifts, we also place just as much emphasis on our charitable activities and teaching the fun rewards of giving.
“In everything I did, I showed you that by this kind of hard work we must help the weak, remembering the words the Lord Jesus himself said: 'It is more blessed to give than to receive.' "–Acts 20:35
There are many different beliefs, traditions, religions and customs this time of year. No matter a person’s faith, I think that, in the hustle bustle of the retail world and emphasis on Santa, wish lists and material goods, even honest terms of sentiment such as “it’s the thought that counts” or “the reason for the season” can become merely hackneyed phrases.
This time of year will only be hurried, chaotic and stressful if we allow it to be. My goal this holiday season is to enjoy the flavor without rush, reflect and create without guilt, and to savor the magic. And it starts with the homemade cookies I am about to bake with my kids, mess and mayhem included. But hey, with young kids, even a cup of calm comes with a dash of bedlam, doesn’t it?
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Catastrophe, or Toilet Paper Craft Time?
It wasn’t Miss Scarlet, in the conservatory, with the candle stick. It was the baby, in the bathroom, with the toilet paper. My 10-month-old son has been crawling just three months, but he has become a master of mischief. He prides himself on getting into everything, climbing up anything, and chewing on absolutely whatever thing.
His latest magic trick was unraveling an entire roll of toilet paper from start to finish and tearing it into shreds all over the floor. This stunt was completed in a record seven seconds. My almost 3-year-old daughter, who happily witnessed the crime from the potty, must have read the astonishment on my face as I came around the corner, because she instantly and sensibly explained to me, “He’s just a baby, mom, he doesn’t know any better.”
My heart softened from dreadful shock to laughter. My son was exploring and, although I wouldn’t want to habitually clean up entire rolls of wasted toilet paper off the floor, it wasn’t murder. Besides, who could resist that heart-melting, jack-o-lantern grin of his, or the twinkle in his eye?
I am grateful for the perspective I’ve gained from having kids. They teach you when to let go of control just as much as they teach you the importance of maintaining it. Indeed, God gave babes these virtues to remind us through our journey what the truly important things in life are all about.
“At that time Jesus made answer and said, I give praise to you, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have kept these things secret from the wise and the men of learning, and have made them clear to little children.” –Matthew 11:25
Instead of seeing a mess, by the grace of God and my children, I sat down on the bathroom floor and joined the homemade streamer fiesta. Who needs craft origami paper when you’ve got Charmin?
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His latest magic trick was unraveling an entire roll of toilet paper from start to finish and tearing it into shreds all over the floor. This stunt was completed in a record seven seconds. My almost 3-year-old daughter, who happily witnessed the crime from the potty, must have read the astonishment on my face as I came around the corner, because she instantly and sensibly explained to me, “He’s just a baby, mom, he doesn’t know any better.”
My heart softened from dreadful shock to laughter. My son was exploring and, although I wouldn’t want to habitually clean up entire rolls of wasted toilet paper off the floor, it wasn’t murder. Besides, who could resist that heart-melting, jack-o-lantern grin of his, or the twinkle in his eye?
I am grateful for the perspective I’ve gained from having kids. They teach you when to let go of control just as much as they teach you the importance of maintaining it. Indeed, God gave babes these virtues to remind us through our journey what the truly important things in life are all about.
“At that time Jesus made answer and said, I give praise to you, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have kept these things secret from the wise and the men of learning, and have made them clear to little children.” –Matthew 11:25
Instead of seeing a mess, by the grace of God and my children, I sat down on the bathroom floor and joined the homemade streamer fiesta. Who needs craft origami paper when you’ve got Charmin?
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Three-year-olds aren’t exactly known as the most giving people on the planet. “Mine!” is their typical mantra. Which is why I was so delighted to have my almost 3-year-old daughter take part in a local charity project at her level of understanding. United Bank in Rockford is hosting their 7th annual “Dress the Dolls for Christmas” program, in which donated dolls are dressed by the community and delivered to area children through the Family Gift Basket program at the North Kent Service Center. What’s more relatable to a 3-year-old than dolls?
Supplied by United Bank, the dolls can be picked up free at their Rockford location, (155 Marcell Drive) between now and November 2. Community members dress the dolls, either in store-bought outfits or hand-created clothes and accessories. The dolls must be returned to the bank by November 10, where they will be displayed and voted on. NKSC distributes the dolls to less fortunate children of the community for Christmas. This year, with an increase of families in need, 100 dolls need to be dressed for the cause.
I was surprised by how naturally the charitably side of my daughter emerged when she saw the dolls at the bank this week. “Look at that doll, mommy,” she said to me.
“That is a doll they will give to a little girl who doesn’t have any dolls,” I explained.
“But, it’s naked, mom.”
“Yes, it is. Would you like to dress that doll for a little girl who doesn’t have any dolls?”
Her eyes brightened, bigger than if I had told her the doll was for her. “Yeah! But, I don’t have any clothes she would fit in.”
“Well,” I said, “we could go to the store and get special doll clothes for her to wear.”
“Right now?!” the excitement was spreading from my daughter’s face to her entire body as she started to wiggle.
She picked a doll and we changed our plans to a trip to Michael’s craft store on Alpine. The entire way, she sat in the back seat, explaining to her 10-month-old brother that the doll was not hers or his, they already had lots of dolls and toys at home. This doll was for a little girl who didn’t have a doll, and my daughter was genuinely thrilled to be a part of the giving. She thoughtfully chose the clothes and shoes, along with a small doll backpack and teddy bear, carried her items to the register and proudly thanked the cashier. Not once did she ask to keep the doll herself. “I’ll bet the little girl who gets this doll is going to LOVE it,” she announced. “That was so much fun!”
For our family, the lesson of charity is much more than just the act of almsgiving, it is a lesson of Christian love and agape, which, by definition is “the love of Christians for other persons, corresponding to the love of God for humankind.”
Cost of outfit, along with accessories: $20. Value of lesson in charity, humanity, Christianity and selflessness: priceless.
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What is more heartwarming than a little girl with a doll? A little girl with a doll she has dressed for another child who needs it more
Three-year-olds aren’t exactly known as the most giving people on the planet. “Mine!” is their typical mantra. Which is why I was so delighted to have my almost 3-year-old daughter take part in a local charity project at her level of understanding. United Bank in Rockford is hosting their 7th annual “Dress the Dolls for Christmas” program, in which donated dolls are dressed by the community and delivered to area children through the Family Gift Basket program at the North Kent Service Center. What’s more relatable to a 3-year-old than dolls?
Supplied by United Bank, the dolls can be picked up free at their Rockford location, (155 Marcell Drive) between now and November 2. Community members dress the dolls, either in store-bought outfits or hand-created clothes and accessories. The dolls must be returned to the bank by November 10, where they will be displayed and voted on. NKSC distributes the dolls to less fortunate children of the community for Christmas. This year, with an increase of families in need, 100 dolls need to be dressed for the cause.
I was surprised by how naturally the charitably side of my daughter emerged when she saw the dolls at the bank this week. “Look at that doll, mommy,” she said to me.
“That is a doll they will give to a little girl who doesn’t have any dolls,” I explained.
“But, it’s naked, mom.”
“Yes, it is. Would you like to dress that doll for a little girl who doesn’t have any dolls?”
Her eyes brightened, bigger than if I had told her the doll was for her. “Yeah! But, I don’t have any clothes she would fit in.”
“Well,” I said, “we could go to the store and get special doll clothes for her to wear.”
“Right now?!” the excitement was spreading from my daughter’s face to her entire body as she started to wiggle.
She picked a doll and we changed our plans to a trip to Michael’s craft store on Alpine. The entire way, she sat in the back seat, explaining to her 10-month-old brother that the doll was not hers or his, they already had lots of dolls and toys at home. This doll was for a little girl who didn’t have a doll, and my daughter was genuinely thrilled to be a part of the giving. She thoughtfully chose the clothes and shoes, along with a small doll backpack and teddy bear, carried her items to the register and proudly thanked the cashier. Not once did she ask to keep the doll herself. “I’ll bet the little girl who gets this doll is going to LOVE it,” she announced. “That was so much fun!”
For our family, the lesson of charity is much more than just the act of almsgiving, it is a lesson of Christian love and agape, which, by definition is “the love of Christians for other persons, corresponding to the love of God for humankind.”
Cost of outfit, along with accessories: $20. Value of lesson in charity, humanity, Christianity and selflessness: priceless.
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We are the World, We are the Children
My two-year-old daughter loves to dance, “elbows out” to the song, “Billie Jean.” She sticks one elbow out at a time and shakes her bum back and forth. It is heart-breakingly adorable. Like many households, ours has recently been rediscovering some new and old moves to the classic Michael Jackson songs as of late, in mourning of the entertainer’s sudden death last week.
Aside from his musical talents, the King of Pop was known for his eccentricity. Roller coasters, monkeys and exotic animals, oxygen chambers, plastic surgeries, along with various other extremes (and alleged perversions) surrounded the Neverland Ranch. At what point did that eccentricity start to mold into something beyond a peculiarity and into more of an illness? His idiosyncrasies propelled his fame past his talent alone, there is no question. Was that type of spotlight helpful or more harmful to his underlying issues? His fans delighting in his strangeness may have only amplified his problems or perversions. In the definition of ‘Eccentricity,’ it is described as, “usually suggesting a mildly amusing but harmless characteristic or style.” How harmless was it, I wonder? Michael was no doubt, a troubled and seemingly tormented soul. Where do quirks and oddities cross the line into becoming unhealthy habits or obsessions?
The topic comes down to the importance of perspective and moderation, I think. You can take just about anything to an unhealthy extreme, I’ve learned. As a parent I consistently remind myself to station myself in the middle of the road. For instance, I let my kids listen and dance to Michael Jackson’s music, but that doesn’t mean I would have ever signed them up for a sleepover at the guy’s house. The world of parenting is chock-full of extremes. From people who never let their kids outside or eat a single gram of fat, to people who deliberately never know their children’s whereabouts and could care less if their daily nutrition is derived from a bag of candy downed with a liter of Mountain Dew. I’ve seen parents who mindlessly buy their kids video games rated inappropriately and allow them to play without limits. I also know parents who think keeping their kids completely sheltered from any plastic toys or electronics will somehow raise an enlightened individual capable of, well, building wooden block towers, I suppose.
Like Michael’s song, “Black or White,” (even if he couldn’t make up his mind which of the two he was) we can learn a lot from letting go of our differences and ditching some of our radical extremes in this world, especially to the betterment of our children. Abnormal as he was, Michael’s talent was undeniable and many of his songs carried beautiful messages, including this lyric, “We are all a part of God's great big family, and the truth, you know love is all we need,” from the hit, “We are the World.”
It is easy to judge someone like Michael Jackson. He is an obvious target for ridicule and scorn. But I, for one, want to teach my kids to have compassion for him and pray that God has now released him from his inner confusion and pain. I pray God has healed his world.
RIP, MJ.
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Aside from his musical talents, the King of Pop was known for his eccentricity. Roller coasters, monkeys and exotic animals, oxygen chambers, plastic surgeries, along with various other extremes (and alleged perversions) surrounded the Neverland Ranch. At what point did that eccentricity start to mold into something beyond a peculiarity and into more of an illness? His idiosyncrasies propelled his fame past his talent alone, there is no question. Was that type of spotlight helpful or more harmful to his underlying issues? His fans delighting in his strangeness may have only amplified his problems or perversions. In the definition of ‘Eccentricity,’ it is described as, “usually suggesting a mildly amusing but harmless characteristic or style.” How harmless was it, I wonder? Michael was no doubt, a troubled and seemingly tormented soul. Where do quirks and oddities cross the line into becoming unhealthy habits or obsessions?
The topic comes down to the importance of perspective and moderation, I think. You can take just about anything to an unhealthy extreme, I’ve learned. As a parent I consistently remind myself to station myself in the middle of the road. For instance, I let my kids listen and dance to Michael Jackson’s music, but that doesn’t mean I would have ever signed them up for a sleepover at the guy’s house. The world of parenting is chock-full of extremes. From people who never let their kids outside or eat a single gram of fat, to people who deliberately never know their children’s whereabouts and could care less if their daily nutrition is derived from a bag of candy downed with a liter of Mountain Dew. I’ve seen parents who mindlessly buy their kids video games rated inappropriately and allow them to play without limits. I also know parents who think keeping their kids completely sheltered from any plastic toys or electronics will somehow raise an enlightened individual capable of, well, building wooden block towers, I suppose.
Like Michael’s song, “Black or White,” (even if he couldn’t make up his mind which of the two he was) we can learn a lot from letting go of our differences and ditching some of our radical extremes in this world, especially to the betterment of our children. Abnormal as he was, Michael’s talent was undeniable and many of his songs carried beautiful messages, including this lyric, “We are all a part of God's great big family, and the truth, you know love is all we need,” from the hit, “We are the World.”
It is easy to judge someone like Michael Jackson. He is an obvious target for ridicule and scorn. But I, for one, want to teach my kids to have compassion for him and pray that God has now released him from his inner confusion and pain. I pray God has healed his world.
RIP, MJ.
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The 3 P’s: Potty, Prayer, Pride
It’s been 10 months of potty training struggles. Before age 2, my daughter showed an active interest in using the potty, so we started to dabble in it early-on. She had gone off and on, even through messy, unsuccessful weeks at wearing “big girl” underwear. We would start with enthusiasm and end in tears, giving up and inevitably dropping the subject for a few weeks and using diapers again.
Potty charts, reward stickers and treats, pull-ups, underwear, timing schedules, bare-bottoms, potty chairs, potty seats, potty books, potty videos, talking about it a lot, not talking about it all… trust me, we have done it all. The dismissive advice I would get from other parents would often add to my annoyance. “Oh, just use stickers and keep putting her on the potty throughout the day…” or, “Don’t worry about accidents; just don’t put her back in diapers no matter what and eventually she’ll learn.” Well, you know what? My daughter likes stickers, but not enough to stop playing to go potty for one. And my daughter is stubborn. If I put her on the potty and she didn’t feel like it, she would simply wait three minutes and tinkle on the floor. Don’t worry about accidents? How about when those “accidents” are all day long around your house? Am I supposed to sit back while my floors, rugs and couch are ruined? No one would suggest such a thing if I told them our dog was the source of such messes. They’d tell me to build a dog house in the backyard and be done with it.
We started a new system about two months ago with marbles. My daughter loves marbles. We have a Mickey Mouse jar; when she tried on the potty she could put a little marble in, when she succeeded in using the potty she could put a large marble in. We told her that when the jar was filled with marbles she could have a new, big girl bicycle. My husband even brought her to the store to sit on one. It wasn’t long before the novelty wore off and she was back to going number one and number two in her pants again, mostly just to get a reaction from me. And try as I might not to give her any reaction, I’m sure my “it’s okay, just try again next times” were laced with the inner frustrations I felt from having to clean up the mess again. We would have some seemingly progressive days, then back to the drawing board. When I knew she was going in her pants on purpose, I would take a marble back out of the jar, which was never popular. I began to feel as though we would never turn a corner, never reach the day when it would happen and stay that way.
It’s been three weeks of potty training bliss. My daughter, at 31-months-old, is finally and officially potty trained. She tells me every time she has to go, even in public, and never complains when we have to try. She is also diaper-free at night. It’s like I have a completely different child. What turned this magic switch? The only trick in the book that worked was, believe it or not, prayer. Did I ask Jesus to potty train my daughter? No. I did, however, pray that I be released from the agony of caring one way or another if she was trained or not. I prayed for patience for myself, for however long it took. The next day she was accident free and self-determined to use the potty every time and successfully stuck to it.
It brings to my mind this bible quote, "Because you have so little faith. I tell you the truth, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there' and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you."
-Matthew 17:20 (NIV)
Now, granted, potty training my 2-1/2 year-old is not on the same realm as the miraculous cure of a child that was lunatic and vexed with a devil, as was the case in that biblical story…. but if any parents out there have had to deal with potty-training stubbornness, regression or potty power struggles, well, you can certainly appreciate the similarities.
Her Granny and Papa got her the big-girl bike, which she loves, but it seems to come second to the pride she feels in her own accomplishment, a sure sign it’s the Real Deal from the Man Upstairs. “Say you’re so proud of me, mama,” she will insist each day after she has used the potty. “I am SO proud of you,” I say. With a triumphant smile, she always replies, “I’m so proud of myself, too.”
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Potty charts, reward stickers and treats, pull-ups, underwear, timing schedules, bare-bottoms, potty chairs, potty seats, potty books, potty videos, talking about it a lot, not talking about it all… trust me, we have done it all. The dismissive advice I would get from other parents would often add to my annoyance. “Oh, just use stickers and keep putting her on the potty throughout the day…” or, “Don’t worry about accidents; just don’t put her back in diapers no matter what and eventually she’ll learn.” Well, you know what? My daughter likes stickers, but not enough to stop playing to go potty for one. And my daughter is stubborn. If I put her on the potty and she didn’t feel like it, she would simply wait three minutes and tinkle on the floor. Don’t worry about accidents? How about when those “accidents” are all day long around your house? Am I supposed to sit back while my floors, rugs and couch are ruined? No one would suggest such a thing if I told them our dog was the source of such messes. They’d tell me to build a dog house in the backyard and be done with it.
We started a new system about two months ago with marbles. My daughter loves marbles. We have a Mickey Mouse jar; when she tried on the potty she could put a little marble in, when she succeeded in using the potty she could put a large marble in. We told her that when the jar was filled with marbles she could have a new, big girl bicycle. My husband even brought her to the store to sit on one. It wasn’t long before the novelty wore off and she was back to going number one and number two in her pants again, mostly just to get a reaction from me. And try as I might not to give her any reaction, I’m sure my “it’s okay, just try again next times” were laced with the inner frustrations I felt from having to clean up the mess again. We would have some seemingly progressive days, then back to the drawing board. When I knew she was going in her pants on purpose, I would take a marble back out of the jar, which was never popular. I began to feel as though we would never turn a corner, never reach the day when it would happen and stay that way.
It’s been three weeks of potty training bliss. My daughter, at 31-months-old, is finally and officially potty trained. She tells me every time she has to go, even in public, and never complains when we have to try. She is also diaper-free at night. It’s like I have a completely different child. What turned this magic switch? The only trick in the book that worked was, believe it or not, prayer. Did I ask Jesus to potty train my daughter? No. I did, however, pray that I be released from the agony of caring one way or another if she was trained or not. I prayed for patience for myself, for however long it took. The next day she was accident free and self-determined to use the potty every time and successfully stuck to it.
It brings to my mind this bible quote, "Because you have so little faith. I tell you the truth, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there' and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you."
-Matthew 17:20 (NIV)
Now, granted, potty training my 2-1/2 year-old is not on the same realm as the miraculous cure of a child that was lunatic and vexed with a devil, as was the case in that biblical story…. but if any parents out there have had to deal with potty-training stubbornness, regression or potty power struggles, well, you can certainly appreciate the similarities.
Her Granny and Papa got her the big-girl bike, which she loves, but it seems to come second to the pride she feels in her own accomplishment, a sure sign it’s the Real Deal from the Man Upstairs. “Say you’re so proud of me, mama,” she will insist each day after she has used the potty. “I am SO proud of you,” I say. With a triumphant smile, she always replies, “I’m so proud of myself, too.”
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