Home Sanctuary

When You're Not Enough

 

I'm the messy one.

I'm the one who "eyeballs" work projects and comes up with a number.

I measure by squinting one eye and holding up a thumb.

My housekeeping strategy is to stack things for later.

I fly by the seat of my pants.

 

Guess what kind of guy I'm married to/work with/raise kids with?

 

Yep. A neatnik.

One who creates spreadsheets with cost analyses.

One who measures three times, to the millimeter.

One who feels loved when I clean the windows.

One who likes all horizontal surfaces to be stack-free.

A planner.

 

You might just laugh and say "opposites attract." Or you might understand when I confess that much of the time, I feel "not enough."

Don't get me wrong, it's not my husband's fault I feel that way. He is kind and understanding. We are simply wired differently. But when things go wrong, say on a work project that runs long or costs more than anticipated, it's usually because *somebody* *forgot* to check details, or eyeballed instead of measured. Possibly didn't think things through completely. Likely overcommitted. Probably underestimated.

I won't say who it is. But she's curled up in the fetal position with a blankie over her head.

When crises like this happen, my vision starts acting up. It gets all blurry and weird, and something similar to panic wells up and I can't think straight. My head starts pounding and I hear myself saying "Rachel, you are so stupid! Stupid, stupid!"

But wait! There's more! I'm not done berating!

"You are inadequate."

"You're a failure."

"You are not good enough for this."

"You are not enough."

 I slip into a funk. My self-talk spirals downward.

Feeling Not Enough at work is one thing. But it's a feeling that lops on over into marriage. It bubbles up in parenting. It simmers in my spiritual life. Whispers fill my head....."Rachel, you are not enough."

Big sigh.

 

I'm learning something, though.

 

I'm learning that in those moments that I am not enough, it's okay. Guess what, it's actually all right.

Because I'm not supposed to be enough.

See, when you're always enough, always on top of things, always thinking ahead, always have the right answer, always do the right thing, you don't need anyone.

 

You don't need any other person, and you don't need the ONE who is always enough.

 

There is something in me that wants to be self-sufficient and well, perfect. Which is ridiculous, really. No one can be perfect. You'll always have a crack in your armor, a limp in your gait, a hole in your heart, a problem that needs solving. You'll always stick your foot in your mouth, or let someone down when you don't mean to. You'll disappoint people you love. You'll forget to wash the windows for like, a year. Maybe two.

But that's where humility comes in. Being honest about your shortcomings, instead of getting defensive. Saying, "I'm sorry," and not giving excuses.

Asking forgiveness.

And forgiving yourself. Accepting that in your moment of weakness, at your point of failure, THAT is where God can step in and give you strength. He can answer prayer and give wisdom. He can move mountains. He can fill all those gaps, and do what you cannot do alone.

He can renew, restore and revive.

God gives us what we need so that we can be enough - in HIM. 

We were never meant to go it alone. We were never meant to be perfect and have all our ducks in a row, no matter how hard we try. We fall so He can pick us up. We fail so He can show Himself strong.

We falter so he can carry us.

 

When you are not enough, remember that HE IS.

 

He makes all grace abound toward you. He is able to do exceedingly abundantly above what you can ask or think. His mercies are new every morning. His faithfulness is great. His love is unceasing. His wisdom, unsearchable. His kindness covers all.

 

Wherever you are today, know that you aren't supposed to be enough.

 

Because HE. IS.

 

What are you struggling with? I'm praying for you today,

Rachel Anne

2 Cor. 12:9 My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.

 

 

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Get Crackin'

Are you exasperated by the lack of response from your children (and spouse) when you tell them you need something done? Today's Small Thing reprises one of my favorite and most effective posts for getting them off their duffs and into action.

 

 Courtesy of Flickr

 

I'm relieved that the heyday of low-rise jeans is about over. They're so risky. If you happen to drop something on the floor, you have to think about who or what is behind you before you stoop to pick it up. And even if YOU'RE careful, you never know when you're going to get an eyeful of bottom cleavage from someone else who isn't worried about giving away a free show.

 

I've seen just about enough butt-cracks to know that most of it ain't pretty, no matter what kind of undies lurk beneath.

 

There's always been a ban on super low-risers at our house. We're a modest bunch, but even so, there are times when more gets revealed than just a BVD label. When we're at home home with the fam, we can relax our guard just a bit. You can sit cross-legged on the floor and no one is going to drop a penny down the gap. However, be forewarned that you might be notified if even so much as your "Pre-Crack" is showing.

A Pre-Crack is the area just above the actual crack, characterized by mounded flesh just below hip level. It's kind of your Pre-Bottom valley. Everyone has a Pre-Crack, even thin people, who might have a couple of dimples there to introduce the lower crevice.

 

I'd like to talk about Pre-Cracks as a public service today, but I'm not going to discuss the physical ones on our bodies.

I'm talking about Pre-Cracks as a verb to denote what a woman needs to do in order for people in the household to get a-crackin on whatever task she needs them to do.

 

Pre-Crackin the Whip, if you will.

 

I've found that motivating children, husbands and even co-workers can be difficult. I've often entered a room to find my homies draped over the furniture like ragdolls, mindlessly watching YouTube videos of cats, and looking at me blankly when I suggest they get up and do something productive.  

They seem so...surprised. And more than a little bummed.

It always works better when I give advance warning that "in X amount of time I will be asking you to do X activity." I sometimes like to add that I will expect "X attitude" when the time comes in which I will do the asking. That last X stands for "willing and cheerful."

 

The Pre-Crack speech is effective because it allows my children time to adjust their thinking and finish up what they are doing, before they "cheerily" get off their duffs and on to my request.  

 

It respects their time and dignity while setting the tone for what is to be expected next.

 

Today's Small Thing is to expose your Pre-Crack by planning ahead. 

 

Don't spring "Time for Bed, NOW" on your darlings. Set a time, give them advance warning and then (here's the tricky part), follow through. And don't just walk in and hand your man a wrench and expect him to turn immediately from ESPN to fix the wash machine. Try greasing the skids a little with a general discussion ahead of time as to what your needs are. 

The Pre-Crack lets others know what's coming and gives them a chance to zip up their duds to work with you.

 

The bottom line is that a Home Sanctuary fosters a spirit of cooperation within the family. Sometimes we need to wedge a bit of kind, advance instruction and a 5 minute warning in there to make it happen.

 

And a smooth end, my friend, is a beautiful thing.

 

Company Girl Kudos for Pre-Crackin the whip (or just explaining nicely what you want in advance). Extra CG Kudos for following through with appropriate encouragement, reward and/or discipline for cooperation, or the lack thereof.

Would love to hear your Pre-Crackin' story today! How has this method helped you? Is a Pre-Crack something you could incorporate into your parenting strategy?

 

 

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Recreated Childhood Photos - And a Thought

To make a calendar gift for their mom, the Luxton brothers recreated childhood photos by posing and dressing just as they did when they were taken as kids...with hilarious results.

I first saw these on Facebook, and literally laughed until I cried.

  Source: Then/Now

Source: Then/Now

Source: Then/Now

Source: Then/Now

You can find the rest of their photos here.

I love how they got their Dad, their uncle and their dog involved, and elaborately set the scenes and gave the photos that vintage feel. So clever! Something tells me that there is never a dull moment with these guys.

Seeing the ridiculousness of grown men in their childhood scenes gave me such a funny feeling inside, even as I cracked up. For some reason, I felt nostalgic for my own kids' childhood photos, and then I imagined what they would look like today if they recreated them. Oh those '90's hairstyles and clothes. So funny to think about!

It reminded me that my photos are moments captured on my kids' way toward adulthood. They are wonderful memories and they always bring smiles as we look at them. But kids can't stay little kids, and really, who would want that? We want them to grow up, right? But sometimes we as moms keep putting them into their little kid roles. Boo. We can't keep recreating scenes and roles that should be left behind. Eventually those kids do grow up...and we have to, get to, grow with them.  

I love all the pictures of my kids in their childhoods. I get very sentimental every time I take them out. But even more, I love knowing that they have become great adults. It's definitely not an easy journey for any of us, but it's worth it.

Yeah, I had to let them grow up.

But I'm keeping my pictures close.

Rachel Anne

 

How about you? Do you still see your big kids as children? Do you still wish they were wearing footie pajamas? Maybe it's time to let them grow up a little. Maybe it's time for you to be ok with transitioning to new roles. How do you feel about that, mom?

Why Parenting is Like High School All Over Again

 

I clearly remember the first time I realized that parenting was a competition.

It was at the Reunion Party for the members of our childbirth class. Our first baby, Lauren, was three months old, with just a wisp of strawberry hair and bright blue eyes, and she was just beginning to *think about* rolling over. All of us brand new parents sat around the rug with our little bundles, much the same way we'd sat around that rug practicing our breathing and relaxation techniques, which were entirely worthless, but that's beside the point.

One couple, who was the 80's version of today's hipsters, plopped their baby down next to ours and proudly announced, "Tennyson is already tri-podding!"

A collective gasp went up from the crowd. Nobody actually knew what tri-podding was, but it sounded so advanced.

Sure enough, baby Tennyson sat up with his legs splayed out and his little arms reaching the floor in front of him, balancing his wobbly head in clear superiority to the loser-babies who were only rolling over...or still *just thinking* about rolling over.

Tennyson's parents shared that he was in the top 5 percentile for motor skills. They said he loved jazz music. Flash cards were his favorite pastime. The pediatrician had noted that he was very advanced for his age.

Tom and I looked at each other, then down at our baby, who was laying there on the rug like a, well, baby, and knew we had some work to do. Just wait until our One Year Reunion, Tennyson. THEN we'll see who's advanced! Oh yeah, bring it.

 

But that was just the beginning.

 

In my little Mother's Day Out, I found out that some kids had really cool mats to nap on, not like the cheap blue one I got at Walmart. Parents discussed which strollers were best, which car seats were safest, and why they decided to go ahead and purchase a Volvo. For the kids' safety, or course.

By elementary school, I figured out that the cool moms were the same girls who were cool in high school. DANG IT! They pulled off the Humble Brag flawlessly: "Morgan hardly had time to finish his science project because we spent Spring Break in Vail." Their kids came by Cool naturally: they inherited it.

I didn't fit in with the Smart Moms who were hell-bent on collecting every possible UIL medal known to man....for their kids, I mean. Colleges look at that kind of stuff, so it's important to start early.

On and on. Inadvertently (or maybe blatantly) comparing, competing and trying to fit in. Trying to out-do.

 

Just like high school. Only now we'd added our kids' achievements into the competish.

 

Of course, no one can ever measure up to the others. No matter how "perfect" your kid is, there is always someone's kid with a higher GPA, someone who has first chair in band, someone who models part-time for JCPenney, someone who won a bake-off, someone who got a hefty scholarship....and sometimes we succumb to the pressure of adding more activities and pressure on ourselves (and kids) just to try and keep up. We don't want to be left out.

 

Today's Small Thing is to stop competing, and start enjoying.

 

I've found that when I don't worry about the Tennysons of this world, tri-podding a full three weeks ahead of the 95 percentiles, I can exult in my baby rolling over whenever she wants to. When I stop comparing myself to my homeschooling friends and their kids' amazing science projects, I can relax and enjoy where I'm at - today - with my kids and their school projects. Do you get what I'm saying?

We tell our kids not to compare themselves to their peers. We tell them to be their own persons and to do things their own way. And we should do the same for ourselves: stop comparing our parenting styles, our incomes, our kids' achievements and our own, to those of parents around us. Stop giving ourselves the short end of the stick. Stop thinking that we are behind, or less than, or failures as parents.

 

Let's simply enjoy the gifts we have, such as they are, and let the chips fall where they may.

High school was way over-rated.

 

Rachel Anne

How will you enjoy "where you're at" in your parenting journey today? What ideas can you share that might help someone else? I'd love to hear.

 

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What the Donkey Said - Lessons in Communication

 

Most of you are aware that I am the reluctant owner of a stray donkey named Flash.

 

Flash, The Donkey

 

Don't ask, it's a long story. There are a bunch of tales about him here on my blog, and you can read them when you have some time to invest in a sweet, albeit stubborn, character. Make yourself a cup of coffee and get comfy.

Today, though, I want to tell you about what that donkey said.

 

(cricket, cricket)

 

 

Well, he said......nothing. Donkey's don't talk much.

But he communicated a lot.

Flash doesn't have to say a word, in order to get his message across.

Examples:

Turning his rather large rump directly in my face means, "I'd like a butt scratch. Now." (I always oblige, because really, I have no choice.)

Both ears forward: "I'm interested in what's going on. Is there food involved?"

Both ears back: "I'm not happy." (Always wise to stand back)

One ear forward, one ear back: "I'm an enigma, shrouded in donkey mystery." (OooKaaay)

Both ears drooped: "Time for my mid late-morning nap, which I must fit in before lunch and my early afternoon nap." (Don't interrupt)

 

Flash has taught me the value of what can be communicated without saying a word.

 

For example:

"You aren't that important," is easily communicated when I am too busy multi-tasking to stop and listen.

I know exactly how to communicate "not tonight, dear," by putting on my worst sweatpants and baggy shirt to sleep in. (Works like a charm!)

"I'm not that interested," can be said by pulling out my phone and scrolling through emails when my child is trying to tell me something. 

 

Oh mercy, those examples were all so negative, Rachel. How 'bout some happy ones?

 

I can communicate "I love you," by baking my son's favorite cookies when he is home.

I say, "You are precious to me," by sitting on the floor and talking with my daughter about anything that comes to mind.

"I appreciate how hard you work," gets said when I take something off my husband's chore list.

 

Sometimes we think we are making ourselves clear by the words we use, when really, our actions are speaking louder than those words. My own biggest communication breakdowns happen when I am trying to do too many things at once. Sometimes, just slowing down long enough to make sure my actions match my words makes a world of difference.

 

Today's Small Thing (if you're new around here, welcome aboard my little assignments) is to communicate a positive message without saying a word.

 

Find a way to say "I love you," or "I value you," or "I'm available," with your actions. How creative can you be? Do you know your loved ones' love languages?

What is one thing you can do that will speak joy into someone's life?

I'd love to know what you're "speaking" today! Let me know in the comments below.

 

Love, Rachel Anne

 

 

 

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Mama, There is Hope.

 

I love Downton Abbey.  I adore it.

Anyone else?

The stories, the scenes, the wardrobes, the setting, the characters....oh, I ache at the loveliness of it all. And I was so FREAKING FURIOUS that Matthew Crawley had to die in the last episode of Season 3! I, along with the rest of the world, felt betrayed by the writers (and the actor, who shall go unnamed) who would lead us to believe that happiness would finally be possible for Mary and Matthew....and then cruelly snatch it from us in a sadistic twist.

I disavowed my affection for Downton.

 

But.

The end of Season 3 was not the final episode.

 

I was grateful for the time in between seasons to heal a little. And friends on the other side of the pond, whose Season 4 aired before ours, hinted that there was hope for Mary's happiness afterall. I decided to give Downton another chance, even though I had sworn in my wrath that I would never, nay EVER, forgive them.

Four episodes in, I forgot all about Matthew. Matthew, who? I never really liked him much anyway. He seemed weak. He had some flaws. He wasn't that good for Mary, come to think of it. And now, there are new suitors and new adventures that keep me glued to my couch, cheering the characters on and hoping, believing, that true love will win the day.

 

Hope.

And faith.

 

It's what keeps us going through life. What makes us get up in the morning and slug out another day.

It's what makes a man and a woman get married, despite the odds against them. It's what makes us have babies and create families, even though we ourselves may have had dysfunctional childhoods. We do it anyway.

 

Because we believe.

 

We believe that love, lasting love, is possible. We WANT to believe it, and so we look for couples who have been married for 50 years and we say, "See, it still happens!"

We look for families that are thriving and we say, "It is possible."

There is something in us that looks for hope, for proof of faith, even when things are bleakest.

Maybe that's why I've been so suddenly passionate about moms who are transitioning as their kids have grown. You are struggling, just as I have, to deal with the loneliness and pain, the questions and the fear.

I have been stunned, simply stunned, by the response to my post, "Dear Lonely Mom of Older Kids" last Wednesday. I sat down and wrote my heart out, and sent it blindly into the blogosphere...and somehow it struck a chord with tens of thousands of you, who are sharing it on Facebook, Pinterest, Twitter, and via email with your friends.

I've read each comment and email, and seen each and every name that has signed up for my newsletter...and I've cried a few tears.

Some of you are going through some really tough times right now. You teen is sullen, indifferent, and rebellious. You fear for his choices, and feel so alone in your stuggles. It seems hopeless.

 

But I tell you: Cling to hope.

Cling to faith.

 

Yes, there are very real dangers out there. And some very sad, heartbreaking stories. Many of you shared your stories with me, and my heart absolutely broke for you. How I wish I could reach through the screen and hold your hand. I never want to be a Pollyanna about the realities families face.

 

But whatever you are going through, please remember that the end of a season is not the final episode. 

 

The credits aren't rolling, the theme song is not playing. The curtain isn't falling. There is more - so much more - to your story. Whether your child is 13, 20, 35, or 50....you must believe that your relationship is not beyond repair. That there is hope to be found. That your adolescent will stop being an complete idiot. That your daughter will realize Justin Bieber isn't worth her time. That leggings will go out of style. Dear God, please.

 

You must believe that hope will win in the end.

 

Time does not permit me to add all the asterisks and disclaimers. I know, and you know, they are there. There are no guarantees. There are no fool-proof, step-by-step instructions that promise a perfect child. Heck, many of us would settle for a mediocre one right now. Anything but the kid who is draped over the couch like a soggy afghan, too lethargic to bring his plate to the sink. Why, if I had a dollar for every time....oh wait.

My point is this. You've got to just keep putting one foot in front of the other. Day in, day out...keep loving, finding common ground, picking your battles and clinging to hope. Look for the young adults who have made it through high school and tell yourself, "It is possible." Find families who are a step ahead of you in the journey and remind yourself that "It can happen."

Don't let the parenting asterisks and disclaimers keep you from believing that your story is still being written. You may yet have some tricky waters to navigate, some twists in your journey, and most definitely some drama, but one of these days you will reach the shore.

You will fall in love all over again with that child who broke your heart with his indifference and callousness. You'll remember that your little princess is still a princess, even with a tattoo. You'll see how your kid's ability to wrangle his way out of trouble will make him an excellent lawyer. You'll find all those things you thought you had lost along the way. You'll remember why you started a family in the first place.

 

Because of love. And hope and faith.

 

Oh dear. I've gone long today. I promise that my posts are usually much shorter and succinct. But I needed to follow up Wednesday's post with this simple message:

 

 

 

The Lord is with you. He is for you. He loves you, and you are not alone. This parenting gig is tough...but it will not conquer you. Something beautiful can, and will, still happen.

 

The last chapter is yet to be written.

 

With love, Rachel Anne

 

 

 

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My newest book:

This is our year.

Skip the Hype & Get to the Heart of Valentines Day

 

Hey, let me ask you: When did holidays and events get so over-done? Generally speaking, I mean. And I ask this in the gentlest of tones.

 

Remember when Halloween was when you dressed as a hobo *again* because you could easily make a costume out of your old clothes? Your mom might put a jack-o-lantern on the porch, but nobody decorated much before the last minute. Now, Halloween decorations and elaborate costumes are trotted out in July in the stores...so you have enough time to prepare.

Birthdays. Please, mamas, please don't tell me you've taken your six year old to a hotel for a weekend of extravagance. Eight year old girls get a spa day, teenagers get elaborate events. Sweet sixteens that are crazy. I kinda miss the backyard parties and lumpy homemade cakes.

Christmas. I can't even. 

I've seen parents who rented a stretch Hummer to pick up their middle-schooler to celebrate the last day of school. 

Party buses and hotels for Prom nights. Weddings that cost $100,000. Marriage proposals in hot-air balloons, followed by white horse-drawn carriages. Couples leaving their wedding receptions via helicopter.

 

 

My question is always: where do you go from there?

 

 

If you're treating your child to a five star restaurant at age six, what will he expect when he is fourteen? If you give a BMW to a 16 year old as a first car, what will she want when she graduates college?

 

I feel like we are setting our kids, and ourselves, up for disappointment in life. 

 

 

Which brings me to Valentine's day.

 

 

How are you preparing your children's expectations for what love looks like?

 

 

Are you making this such an extravagant holiday that they will be disappointed for the rest of their lives when the person they marry can only afford a small heart shaped box of Stover's and a card? (Which is PLENTY GOOD, by the way.)

 

Are you filling the house with such Pinterest awesomeness that they will feel like failures if they forget a centerpiece for the table, a wreath for the door, garland across the fireplace and Sweet Tarts strewn in their beds?

 

And have you (as I have) fallen prey to the commercials and blogs that set us up to expect our husbands to sweep in and be ah-may-zing for Valentine's Day?

 

 

People, we've got to take control of things here.

 

 

Take things down a notch, or five.

 

Let's lower our expectations for Valentine's Day - and every other event and holiday - so we can focus on what really matters:

 

 

Love. Friendship. Warmth. Caring. Kindness.

 

 

 

Let's pinky-swear that we will simply say, "I love you," to the people who matter to us...and not expect them to blow us away with their gestures of romance and love. Let's teach our children to enjoy the holiday in a special way, without setting an impossible standard for them to replicate as adults. Let's give our husbands some grace on this pressure-filled day.

 

 

Let's spread the Valentine love throughout the year.

 

 

Listen, I'm the biggest, mushiest, blubberiest sucker for "all things romantic" in the world. I'm not, for anything, saying "don't celebrate!" I LOVE a good holiday, and I love a good holiday that centers around chocolate. There is nothing better!

 

I'm simply saying, skip the hype. Find the heart of your child, and the heart of your mate, and speak to those. Spend some time at the dinner table, doing a Round Robin valentine. Read an extra story to your toddler. Take your lingerie out of mothballs for an after-the-kids-are-asleep event. Let your husband know if you'd like some flowers - there is no shame in letting him see what's in your heart. Stop guessing and just LOVE.

 

And accept that love shouldn't have the bitter aftertaste of credit card bills and everyday life that doesn't measure up.

 

 

Today, I hope you have a wonderful Valentine's Day.

 

 

 

I hope you can skip the hype, and simply savor the heart.

 

I hope you feel loved and cared for. I love YOU for stopping by my blog today, and for being part of my life. I love that we've found each other through our mutual love of our homes and families. And I love that you let me share what's on my heart.

 

You are special. You are loved.

 

Please go have something chocolate to eat - and I will, too! We shall celebrate love and friendship, warmth, caring and kindness today. Together.

 

Rachel Anne

 

 

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Dear Lonely Mom of Older Kids

 

Remember when it was easy to post photos of your adorable baby, or messy toddler on Facebook? Remember how you could publicly bemoan sleepless nights, and kids pooping in the bathtub? How your fridge was full of magnets and fingerpaintings that were impossible to tell what they depicted? You could talk to your friends during playgroups, and get support during those naughty tantrums? Remember how you could Instagram just about any part of the chaos and it was still cute?

It's not that easy anymore.

It's hard to snap a photo that your middle schooler will approve of you posting on Facebook. You don't really want to share about your son's behavior when you take away the Xbox. You can't really talk about the grades - good or bad - because your kid will be mad that you overshared. Your sleepless nights are caused by worry, not teething. You wonder about the influence of peers, not playgroups. Toys are now cars and electronic games. 

There isn't a lot of cute in the chaos. Instead, there is acne and braces and attitudes.

It can be a lonely time.  

Oh, yes. There is a lot of joy, of course. You wouldn't trade your kids for anything. But you just want to know that everything is going to be all right. That they'll turn out ok. That they'll grow up and make good decisions and all your hopes and dreams for them will come true.

 

And where are the other moms? Lots of them are back to work, juggling just like you. Most of them are in the car, driving their kids to soccer practice and track meets. All of them a lot more quiet these days. They are pulled in many directions.

I've noticed an conspicuous absence of mom-bloggers with older kids. A whole let less sharing and swapping of kid stories. Almost no teenage birthday party ideas on Pinterest. Mom conferences that seem to focus on young families. 

The online world just sort of goes quiet for the moms of pre-teens, teenagers and young adults. Except for the scary stories of kids and families gone wrong. It's not real comforting.

 

I've been thinking about you, mama.

I want you to know that you aren't alone. These years with your older kids can be your best, even if you can't post photos of them on Facebook very often, and nobody says "OMG So PRESH" anymore.

 

I want you to know a few things.

 

I want you to know that nearly every middle schooler I have ever known was obnoxious...but all of them have grown into very nice young people.

I want you to know that your kid's grades won't ultimately determine how successful he will be in life. 

Your daughter's obsession with her hair will quietly end in college.

Your diligence in training them in good manners, though it looks absolutely hopeless now, will delight the person they will marry.

Your prayers for them will not go unanswered. You will not let God rest...and He will not let you down.

Braces come off, complexions clear, bodies grow. They become less awkward and more engaging.

You will lose your mind a thousand times...and find it, most of the time.

You will wish you could fast forward to graduation, and then cry your heart out when the day comes.

You hurt when they fail, you mourn over broken hearts, you wish they would show some gumption. You cry when they don't get that prom date and you jump for joy when they make the basketball team. 

 

And so much of it....you just can't talk about.

 

Because you suddenly realize that these kids are people.

People with feelings and emotions. And you can't go around blogging about their mean math teacher or their failed attempt at choir auditions. These are things that are too precious, too priceless, too soul-baring, too hard to share. They need you to be their safe place. They need you to keep their secrets. They need you to pick up pimple concealer at CVS and not breathe a word to anyone. They are so easily embarrassed and you must do your part to help them get through it.

And you know what? You will help them get through it. You will give them pep talks and scoldings and reminders and notes.

You will give them confidence, and wings. It just takes awhile.

 

And you, dear mom of older kids, will grow your own wings.

 

In the middle of all this chaos, you will learn that you are made of amazing stuff. You have a backbone made of steel. You can make great vats of chili like its nobody's business. You can whip up brownies for tomorrow's homeroom party. 

You will discover that you can handle more than you ever thought you could. You will find that there is strength in quiet, that Facebook survives just fine without your photos, and that you have something incredible to offer this world.

YOU, mama, are raising kids that will take on life, and all it holds. They will become doctors and lawyers and nurses and teachers and mothers and fathers. They will remember how you loved them, how you helped them, how you sacrificed to give them a good start.

And they will thank you.

 

Today, I hope you'll breathe in hopefulness and joy in your parenting. Let go of fear and anxiousness and simply enjoy that adolescent. Laugh at a fart joke. Try a new hairstyle with your daughter. Drive through Sonic for a 1/2 price slush.

Remember that these kids are your gifts, and you are theirs. There is no one who can do this better than you can, because you know them better than anyone, and you love them harder and stronger and deeper than anyone else.

 

Oh, and one last thing:

Everything's going to be all right. You're going to be OK. Your kids are going to turn out great.

 

That's what I want to say to you today.

With love,

An Older Mom Who's Been There - Rachel Anne

PS Here is my follow-up post, Mama, There is Hope. 

 

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2 Questions that will Transform Your Relationships

I recently heard a terrific quote:

 

"A good question is better than a good answer,

because a good answer means the end of the conversation."

 

I'll bet each of us knows someone who is so busy talking that they never pause to listen to what you have to say. It's so frustrating. And I find that I dread conversations with those people because I feel... superfluous. I've vowed to not be "that person," who is only interested in their own opinion, but to be a good listener instead. 

Because listening makes people feel valued. Validated. Less lonely. These are good things, people. These are things I want the people around me to feel. Me talking and talking does not make this happen. I've got a long way to go, but I'm working on it.

I've vowed to ask good questions. 

And I've found that two simple questions are transforming my conversations. They immediately put a sparkle into the other person's eye, and inspire thoughtful interaction.

Here they are:

 

1. "What do you think?"

How about, instead of blurting out your strong opinion about, say, the moral decay in our society, you ask what the other person thinks first? You might be surprised to learn a nuance or viewpoint that your monologue would have shut down, had you gone first.

The next time your child asks, "why is the sky blue?" try to turn it around. 

"Why do YOU think it's blue?" You might be charmed by an answer that's way better than your technical explanation of the atmosphere, and be engaged in a memorable conversation you might have otherwise missed.

 

Save your opinion for after the other person has answered...and then cut it in half. Or maybe don't even give it. Sometimes your "right" opinion feels like you've "one upped" the other person, which is death to a relationship. Leave a conversation open ended, that you can come back to later to discuss.

 

2. "How do you feel about that?"

This is not the same question as #1, although they are similar. The first has to do with the mind: opinions, information, the exchange of ideas. This has to do with the heart.

Tread carefully.

Feelings are tender things. And they should be handled with the utmost care. Give time to listen and reflect on the priceless gift being given to you - a glimpse into a person's soul.

This is a question we don't really like to ask our husbands, because we don't always want to know the answer. We don't want to hear words like, "afraid, scared, hurt, anxious, doubting." But they are the very words he might need to say - without receiving judgment from you. And perhaps if you ask it, without judging the answer, you'll receive the same consideration in return.

Your children, your friends, your co-workers, everyone around you wants to be asked these two simple questions. In our own need to be seen and heard, we often plow right past people who have value, who need validation, who feel lonely. Simply being asked makes all the difference in the world.

And be sure to listen to the answers.

 

Today's Small Thing is to ask these two powerful questions. 

 

They will transform your conversations and your relationships. I promise.

I'd LOVE to be a fly on the wall and hear what happens today. Will you please let us know??