I Have A Headache

No, the headache is not from the kids, though they are never truly innocent, I'm sure they are a contributing factor. I think I had too much chocolate, or maybe it's because I didn't sleep well which is probably because I had too much chocolate. I once read that the best cure for a headache was dark chocolate. I'm not even going there . . . got apples??

It's Purely Medicinal

Did you know that 3.3 billion pounds of chocolate are consumed each year? And did you know that chocolate is really full of antioxidants and has significant amounts of magnesium, copper, iron and zinc and it may actually lower blood pressure? Not to mention chocolate can help make you mentally alert. I say we give our teachers chocolate instead of apples, whoever heard of an apple making you mentally alert. Whoever heard of a teacher (homeschooling teachers included) who didn't need to be more mentally alert? Eating chocolate before exercising can give you more energy to work out longer to burn more calories so you can eat more chocolate (okay, I made that one up). Denying oneself of chocolate is like keeping milk away from a baby. Who would do such a thing? Chocolate is the food of choice for peri-menopausal women. How can all those women be wrong? On top of the nutritional values, chocolate can give you a feeling of well-being . . . so you see, it's purely medicinal . . . are you buying any of this????

Raising A Puppy

My blog would not be complete if I did not mention a temporary member of the family. We are raising a puppy for the Seeing Eye in Morristown. We've had our puppy for 15 months and the time is getting close to him being returned to Morristown for the next step in his training process. He's a great dog and if he fails the program it's because of us, not him. My son is the main puppy raiser and he's done a fantastic job with him. The puppy knows my son's voice and listens to him better than he listens to me (hey, somehow there must be a correlation between the kids not respecting my commands and the dog not respecting my commands. . .hmmm). I took the puppy to the post office and we kind of got kicked out and asked not to return until he's a full-fledged Seeing Eye dog. But in the puppy's defense the lady he just had to sniff really did smell like hot dogs and the floor in the post office is slippery and people should hold on to their packages better if they are fragile and that's all I'll say about it. Raising a puppy for the Seeing Eye has been a really great experience for our whole family, but especially for my son who has never failed to do the right thing when it comes to his puppy. But, if you come over for a visit, please don't sit back in the rocking chair, the puppy chewed off the rockers and you'll fall right over.

Wait, Did I Say That Out Loud?

Did you ever have one of those moments when you thought, "I hope I didn't say that out loud?" An unkind thought or discouraging word or an angry outburst or even a first impression that later turned out to be false. Aren't you glad that every thought that pops into your head is not heard by others? So, this is my concern in this day of cell phones and text messages, email and instant messaging - instant communication with people with the touch of a key. How many emails or text messages have been sent with regret? I'm not worried for myself, because my husband and I share a cell phone and it isn't even capable of text messaging - my kids say it's worse than Maxwell Smart's shoe phone. When we pull it out and pull up the antenna, the kids cringe. We once tried to show them how annoying cell phone interruptions were and asked all our friends to call us on my husband's birthday. We set the ringer to play 'happy birthday' and put the volume up as high as it would go and then we went to the diner. My husband got quite a few calls and answered every one, very loudly. I asked them if they were embarrassed and they said they weren't embarrassed for themselves but were for my husband. Can you imagine, those dirty, rotten, annoying kids . . . wait, did I just say that out loud????

James 1:19 So then, my beloved brethren, let every man be swift to hear, slow to speak. . . .

This is scary. . .

. . .my mother is reading my blog . . . Hi Mommy, love you ; )

Boys Will Be . . .er . . .Stupid

13 year old boys are. . .uh. . .let's say. . .stupid! Really, what happens to the sweet little, sweet smelling, sweet disposition of boys when they hit their teen years. I know there are glands and hormones out of control, but I want to know what happens to their common sense (if common sense were actually common, it would be). Besides the interesting odors that waft off (and stick to) their feet and hair and body, their adoring nature becomes disrupted. When my son was a little guy he bought me a pearl necklace (from the dollar store) and told me I could wear it when he and I got married. Today, if he bought me a pearl necklace I'd think he wanted to choke me with it. So last week he and a friend were outside, supposedly playing with the dog, and they came in soaking wet. It turns out they dumped soap bubbles (the ones we use to torture the dog - that's for another blog) on each other. As they were dripping wet in my kitchen they asked if I'd drop them off at the local pool hall for a quick game. Okay, so I can't trust you in the back yard with soap bubbles, so yeah, I'll just drop you off at the pool hall, unattended, with pool cues! They actually argued with me . . . it's lucky for my son that he really is a cutie and aside from the smells and stupidity . . . he's just like his dad.

Where Is Self-Esteem In The Bible?

When I was a new parent, there was so much advice about raising kids to become a success. I read everything. Amongst all the books and articles I read, the term "self-esteem" was the byword of the 90's. If you wanted your kids to amount to something special, you needed to make sure their little egos weren't damaged. The first year my daughter played soccer (she was 5, what a hoot!) every child received a trophy. The kids in her kindergarten class got stickers almost daily; best listener, best reader, best story teller, most organized. Parents pushed kids to the front of the line and did their homework for them to get them that prized sticker. How, may I ask, will kids learn patience if they don't need to wait for anything? How will they learn humility if they never fail? How will they learn work ethics if everyone gets a prize, no matter the talent or ability? How will they learn endurance, determination, discipline, pride (the good kind) if they never fail? How do they learn to lose gracefully if they always win? And how do you learn to pray and lean on God if outcomes are all manipulated for success? I've always been a bit of a rebel, and this advice never sat well with me. I loved my little kids and their little egos very much, but I didn't want them to become selfish and self centered. So, I let them fail, let them wait at the back of the line and never did their homework for them. Every success they had, they owned. Every heartache they had was shared with mommy and daddy. Every step to maturity they had was celebrated. They own who they are, not me, not the schooling, not the media. My kids are going to be okay, all on their own. This blog is written to my middle child who wondered why I blogged "I created individual thinkers" - what I meant was that Daddy and I gave you the tools and you, my dear, did the work.

What Was I Thinking?

When my kids were little, someone passed on this observation: "The first 2 years of a child's life we try to get them to walk and talk, and then the next 16 years we try to get them to sit down and shut up." Though I thought this was funny, I took offense to this and have encouraged my kids to walk and talk their way through life. Just because someone says it's so, doesn't make it true. Find out for yourself if it's true and if you disagree, be ready to back up your reasoning. Stand up for what you believe to be true and don't give up. (I think this observation has to do in part with my decision to homeschool my kids for the last 7 years. If anyone is going to tell my kids to sit down and shut up, it's going to be me.) So then why should I be surprised when my kids debate my every instruction? Why should I be surprised when my 18 year old daughter disagrees with every little message on her vanilla chai tea bags? I've created clever little individual thinkers that aren't afraid to stand up for what they think is right, kids that can argue the white off of rice . . . and to think I'm the one who encouraged this . . . again, I must ask myself the question, "What was I thinking?????"

I Confess

I have a confession. I ate chocolate today. I know it's not really a sin, but I was trying to fast from chocolate (and coffee, what was I thinking?) until Easter. You know, a Lenten fast to prepare our hearts for the celebration of the resurrection. But here is my justification. Jesus fasted, however, He didn't have coffee or chocolate to tempt Him. I mean, if He did, I know He would have been steadfast in His fast, but really, He's God in the flesh and I'm only human, a mere woman with 3 crazy teenagers and hormone fluctuations that would convince me that Global Warming may just be the concentration of too many peri-menopausal women in one place. The kids drive me to do it, I mean, Jesus didn't have 3 demanding teenagers that act more like little vultures than kids. The kids wait until I'm down and then peck at me until I'm done . . . I'd be almost dead on the ground and they would want me to settle an argument. "Wake up Mom and tell her I'm right and she's wrong!" "Hello, I'm dying here!" They simply don't care. Peck, peck, peck. Well, the last time I was sick, they did get me a card. . . and they did make me some tea . . . and they did argued in whispers . . . all right, I have no excuse. I ate the chocolate and I confess.

Purging

I had this thought, almost a calling, that my family needed to purge our closets. I picked a Saturday and told (warned) my family that this was the day for purging. Each child was responsible for their own closet, lest Mom does it for them. The Saturday came and we went to work. I even purged the medicine closet which had a bottle of Tums that expired in 1999 and Big Bird band-aids. I purged my closet (do you know anyone who needs maternity pants?) and had 2 bags of clothing for Good Will and 2 bags for the garbage. My "always-game-for-mom's-ideas" husband had to go to the dump to get rid of all the stuff he purged from his office. I was so excited to get rid of all this stuff! We went to church the next day and then lunch and when I came home to my clean house I felt . . . what? . . . unsatisfied? . . . why? . . . we purged, I should be happy. When I went to bed I prayed, "What's up God? Why am I feeling so unsatisfied? I purged my whole house. We even need to go to the dump." And God, being the ultimate gentleman that He is said gently, "Try purging your heart." Well, I will tell you it is easier to purge a closet of old shoes and dresses than it is to purge your heart of old hurts and grudges. So, after more than one Saturday and an apology note, I purged my heart. But just like that pretty size 8 dress that hangs in the back of my closet that I can't get rid of, there are still some size 8 hurts in my heart. It's a process . . . just like life . . . adapted. . .

About Queens and Witches

I found a note written to me by my daughter. It was from 1998. She was 5. It said, "Mom, I think I will live with you forever." It's funny how shortly after that she's been threatening to leave home and never come back. This is my view of how daughters think of their mothers.
Ask a 5 year old what her mother is like and she'll likely reply, "She's like a Queen. She's knows everything."
Ask a 10 year old what her mother is like and she'll likely reply, "Oh, she's okay. She knows some stuff."
Ask a 15 year old what her mother is like and she'll likely reply. "She's a witch! She doesn't know anything!"
Ask a 20 year old what her mother is like and she'll likely reply, "She's not as dumb as I thought she was."
Ask a 25 year old what her mother is like and prayerfully she'll reply, "She's like a Queen. She knows everything."
I have 3 teenagers, it's amazing how little I know these days. I plan on making T-shirts for them that say, "I don't need to go to college because I know everything." They are not amused, but I am. Blessings to all you mothers out there, we'll be Queens someday again, I promise.

Run for President

Do any of you watch the Presidential debates? Let me tell you something, they are nothing compared to the debates I have with my teenagers! If a teenager could run for the Presidency they would win. Not because they are smarter or better speakers, but because they can talk the white off of rice. Their arguments don't even make any sense. One minute you're telling them to be home by 10 and the next minute they are telling you how when they were 8 you used a whale song tape to torture them when they had insomnia (really, I can't make this stuff up). Now, I'm defending myself, saying, "But honey, you loved whales and it was meant to soothe you to sleep. Wait, what does this have to do with your curfew?" Can't you hear it now, "But Mom, all the other Presidential candidates can stay out till 11! You're so mean! You just don't want me to have any fun. Just because your life is boring, you want my life to be boring too!!" "That's right darling, I want you to be bored. That's why I take you to voice, piano, youth group, friends houses, to plays, to the movies. . .wait, why am I defending myself again. Be home by 10 or you can't run for office and that's final. . .well, 10:30 but not a minute later." I don't know why, but I'd vote for my teens.