Five unusual things that make a mom feel special

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Posted on May 20, 2013

1. They put the seat down – Our home isn’t a gas station or a truck stop, therefore the simple action of placing the toilet seat down after using the bathroom demonstrates love. You might not appreciate this action until you have assumed the seat was down and tragically realized it wasn’t. Splash. Early in their childhood, we made this a family rule. In addition we also flush, and close the door when using the bathroom.

2. They clean the rim – In a moment of frustration, I once wrote a frustrated message on the toilet seat in black Sharpie pen. Nothing else seemed to be working so I expressed my annoyance. This was after repeated requests for the offending party to please be more careful, I had had enough. My OS weren’t children or new to potty training, they possessed enough awareness of their bodily functions to avoid leaving yellow driblets on the seat. They were chagrined and now are usually more mindful. One day their wives can thank me for this.

3. They replace the toilet paper – Another act of consideration occurs when there is a fresh roll of toilet paper on the roll. I remember once using the restroom and discovering there was only ONE THIN SQUARE of toilet paper still on the roll. When I ~~yelled~~ inquired why the person didn’t bother to replace the roll, I was told there was still enough toilet paper for the next person. It was a teachable moment.

4. They surprise me with flowers – I don’t have to be sick or have a birthday for my boys to give me flowers. Several years ago during the summer, Aaron came home from work with a bouquet of flowers for me. He wasn’t in trouble either, it was a just-because moment. Flowers also help offset the occasional forgetful episodes outlined in 1-3.

Flower inside and outside create a happy mood. Thanks, Hubs!

5. They appreciate. I feel content when my fellas notice the little touches around the house. On Saturday, I cut a few sprigs of mint from our garden and placed them on the dining room table. They liked it. When I write Scripture on the kitchen chalkboard, it catches their attention or when I set the table nicely, it brings harmony. Those homey, domestic efforts aren’t necessarily observed individually but they give a welcome mood which my guys enjoy.

I wonder if men understand how these small efforts at mindfulness really make a difference to a woman.

It might not seem like a big deal to the Hubs or my three olive shoots but these things make me feel blessed. I like being a girl in a house full of guys.

These five actions recognize and elevate my unique status as the only female in my house. Philippians 2:3-4 is played out and make me feel special. “Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others.”

What do you think about this list?

Five minute Friday – song

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Posted on May 17, 2013

This boy when he sings, makes my heart smile.

I know my family has found the sweet spot in the day when my orange-hair, freckle face 16-year-old starts to sing.

You will not hear him on an album. His ministry-minded middle is in the Moody Men’s Choir and he sings with wild abandon. He sings almost too much. I love it, don’t get me wrong but there’s a sharp contract between the two.

Isaac, though, most of his songs are silly and they are less frequent. These songs can be of the suburban white-boy rap quality busting bad rhymes about important things like how much he hates swiss chard

or cleaning the marble kitchen island

You know, deeply emotional things…NOT

Quite a few are about me being his mom.

Oh these make me giggle

But more importantly they tell me something very important.

He feels safe.

When I sing, it means I am allowing you to hear my voice. You have been permitted to hear my non-musical melodies. I have deemed you safe. When I am off-pitch or goof up a word, if you are hearing my song, you have been given a gift not necessarily in the form of sound but in the form of security.

Writing for five minutes is a treasure. Do it! Click here for deets!

When people sing in this family, it brings more than music to my ears. It brings healing.

Question: When someone in your family sings, what does that mean to your heart?

Colonel Kail is my friend, part two

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Posted on May 16, 2013

Eric and his family.

Lord willing, Colonel Kail will have a retirement ceremony on 31 May at West Point, then the packers will come three days later.

With the diagnosis of stage 4 transitional cell carcinoma, life began to drastically change for the Kail’s. The one thing that hasn’t wavered but remained steadfast is Eric’s optimism and faith.

Eric is an awesome dad and husband. He’s a Colonel in the United States Army and has also served for over 25 years as an Army Field Artillery Officer in both conventional and special operations units. He has several combat deployments, including Operations Desert Shield, Desert Storm, Enduring Freedom, and Iraqi Freedom. Eric also has a PhD in organizational psychology. His latest assignment was as the course director for military leadership at West Point.

Impressed? You should be!

Here’s where you come in. Would you be so kind as to pray for this man? Eric has a few medical procedures to complete prior to heading for Texas. A few new spots on the spine and sacrum causes weakness in his right leg and severe pain and stiffness in both legs.

Though he moves around like a 90-year-old man, Eric retains his wit and wisdom.

In return for your prayers, with Eric’s permission, I am sharing a recent experience he had at the airport.

Here’s the remarkable thing that happened to him at the airport.

I’m very prone to take matters into my own hands and to gut things out, get the mission done without complaining. I was beginning to feel like my ability to do certain things was dropping off and a book I was reading allowed me to spend time covering God’s instructions to Elijah.

Specifically, delivering bad news to Ahab then going to live in a cave during a drought.

God told Elijah that he would have birds bring him food; not the kind of delivery we think about for food these days. Now, I’m not by any means comparing myself to Elijah, but the lesson was clear.

God will provide every internal and external resource needed to do what He calls us to do.

Well, the day after I read this story I met a complete stranger in a crowded airport lounge.

He was an Indian man who is a missionary living in the U.S. and still tied to missions work in India aimed at reaching their remote tribal populations.

In fact, his son had died in his 20s while working as a missionary in a remote tribal village.

We began discussing what we did and he asked about what God has called me to do through my battle with cancer.

I shared with him that unless my health took a positive swing, that I may have to curtail my speaking engagements and such.

Then he asked me if I knew much about Elijah.

I laughed and shared with him about what I had read the day before.

As my son would say, “Colonel Kail is the man!”

So, we stopped what we were doing and he prayed for me right there in the middle of a very crowded airport lounge.

He prayed specifically that God would make clear his provisions for me and my family as we set out to do His work.

No way it was an accident that this man and I spent an hour together in a crowded public spot.

It gets better.

The next day, my devotional was from 1 Kings, specifically Elijah’s meeting the widow who had just enough flour and oil to make one last meal for her and her son before they died.

Elijah instructed her to make some bread for him too, and that God would provide for her until the drought was over. She did and her flour and oil never ran out.

However, her son did die while Elijah was staying as guest in her home. She asked if this was a curse from God. Elijah took the boy up to his bed, laid on top of him, and prayed three times for God to restore the boy’s spirit to his body. God did just that.

So, I get the message pretty clearly.

Our natural default is to look for our own strength and resources to do even what God has called us to do, when He will supply all we need.

This is hard to do when coordinating things like a final move, buying a home, arranging travel, conducting a retirement ceremony, and oh yes, battling cancer.

Just like meeting Eric and Gigi at Sunday School many years ago in Apex, North Carolina, God arranged for Eric and this man to bond in a crowded airport lounge. What were the chances of that? I love seeing God move in his people.

Let’s move spiritual mountains for Colonel Kail. Share this with others too.

Eric and Gigi

Please pray specifically for the following:

– That scheduling for moving would fall into place
– That the nerve pain and limited mobility would not get any worse between now and beginning treatment
– That the MRI of his brain would show success of the procedure and no other tumors
– That there wouldn’t be any flare ups while in transit from NY to TX
– That he can physically able to do his retirement ceremony on 31 May

In addition, he has promised to commission FIVE cadets at West Point next weekend. He swore our son in last year and it was such a meaningful honor.

Let us pray without ceasing for this man who so freely gives to others. Bless you, Colonel Kail!

Here is the background story if you missed it.

Doing laundry – Ranger School style

19 Comments

Posted on May 14, 2013

With a bit of food in their tummies and new gear piled in the back of our SUV, reality began to set in.

Something smelled.

The guys had a slightly ripe odor slightly akin to a good camembert–

But it was three heavy duffel bags which held the real aroma.

I found this in my son’s duffel bag.

The longer we were in the car, which now also included a trip to Wal-Mart, the greater stress weighed on me as a mother who had a giant task ahead of her.

We had been warned that the laundry stunk but oh my, as soon as I unzipped the first duffel bag, a tsunami of smell filled my nostrils.

Foolishly we had chosen to wash the clothes in the hotel laundry room. I do not recommend this as it is asking too much of a standard model washing machine. Alas, with no time to spare, I began pulling damp ACU items out of the bag chucking them onto the floor. Body odors, dirt, grime, silt stuck into every fiber.

In my 23 years of motherhood, nothing really had prepared me for this task.

No diaper,

no soccer game,

no previous Army training exercises involving stinky summer uniforms was adequate preparation. Every type of laundry detergent I had available was summoned forth. With reckless abandon, I threw t-shirts, pants, filthy socks into the mouth of the machines. Time was of the essence and the clock pulled minutes away from our day.

Occasionally I opened the lid as if to apologize to the machine for the assault. Dirt, sand, duct tape began to cover the laundry room floor.

I even found a few rocks tucked into my boy’s pockets which made me wistful of those bygone years.

The Hubs came into the laundry room and we both stood amidst the sea of Army colors.

Truly I was making a mess and the thought of unzippering the next duffel bag was daunting.

I chuckle seeing this picture and now realizing it is blurry. I felt so frantic trying to wash two filthy duffel bags full of stinky Soldier clothes.

The Hubs scrambled between two locations checking on our other Ranger School charge to make sure he was ok.

C. was holding his own quite well so the Hubs ran to the front desk, then back to the store, anywhere to load me up with more quarters. Tension was high…very high.

Neither one of us wanted to let our guys down yet it seemed hopeless that we could get all the clothes clean by the mandatory 6pm arrival.

And now let’s just talk for a moment about clean.

It’s all relative. There was not sufficient time for the clothes to be mama-clean. My standards were lowered, I had to be realistic.

No offense but the place reeked. When an employee happened by the laundry room, I flagged him for help. Open the windows! This didn’t provide much relief but it seemed the courteous thing to do for the other hotel guests. At times I was afraid to plunge my hand into the dark bag for another odoriferous bundle. Damp black trash bags knotted at the top forewarned me that I was approaching hazardous material. The deeper in the bag I got, the greater the risk. Seriously gross. Ridiculously smelly. Would I do it again? In a heartbeat! Do I want to? I’d rather make him a green smoothie.

The treasures found in Nate’s backpack. The rocks I found in his pockets made me want to cry. Just like when he was a little boy.

With about an hour left before we had to take everyone back, I finished the laundry. Folding the t-shirts, sorting the socks, double-checking the pockets for any residue, I was content at the end of the day. What a sense of ac- complishment.

Yes, I wanted to do a better job but the clothes were much cleaner than they were eight hours previously.

The Hubs and I were exhausted but it was the least we could do for these hopeful Rangers. As the guys put on their freshly washed uniforms, it was a proud moment. We hugged goodbye, I tearfully kissed my sweet boy and they put their duffel bags on their shoulders, ready to return.

Looking better, smelling nicer, feeling like they were ready to do this. Rangers lead the way!

I will always ove this guy no matter how stinky he is or how gross his clothes are!

I will always love this guy no matter how stinky he is or how gross his clothes are!

Eight-hour pass from Ranger School, part two

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Posted on May 12, 2013

13. While recycling, (a Ranger School word which means they did not pass a phase of training), we learned that our son had perfected his painting skills. I’d like to think he was responsible for the impeccable craftmanship on this door just outside the barracks. We joked with one of Nate’s buddies that if the whole Ranger School thing didn’t turn out, they could easily get a job at Home Depot.*

14. We greeted our guys with hearty hugs and upon entering the car, we began feeding them.

15. In addition to fresh glazed donuts, they were served green smoothies without complaint. Before leaving Camp Rogers, our fellas had already ingested donuts, spinach, berries, peaches and bananas. It’s a mom thing. Yes, I did write on our car windows. Again, a mom thing.

16. Nate told us one of his buddies needed a little help and we gladly agreed. Basically we told our gang that we were here to serve. Boss us around, we’ll do anything. They were very appreciative.

Do you want to know something else? Not one complaint the entire time. No sleep, little food, physically, emotionally exhausted and we never heard one harsh word or observed any impatience toward us or each other. True, the Hubs and I had a few rough patches due to stress during the day** but these men were simply grateful and humble. Maybe everyone needs Ranger School, just sayin.’

17. It warmed my heart to see people out there supporting their Ranger School guys. I know several people who weren’t able to make it to Fort Benning for the eight-hour pass but they still found creative ways to love their Soldiers. Some sent video messages, others got perfectly timed letters, I even know a girlfriend/mom team that sent their guy a package of gourmet chocolate fruit to greet him at his apartment.

18. One of Nate’s buddies is originally from the Chicago area and is also a West Point grad. Since I grew up in a suburb near his hometown and we have a son at school in Chicago, we wished we had some deep dish pizza for him. It was an honor to serve B. and care for him as his family would.

19. Upon arriving at Commando’s, our three charges frantically began getting gear and refits. We spent a considerable amount of time there. One of our guys purchased nearly $600 on supplies. This was a necessary visit but wow, the growing stench in the back of our vehicle was proof that another big priority was laundry. That particular event is worthy of at least one solitary blog post.

20. I had been pushing turkey jerky, homemade chocolate chip cookies while in Commando’s. This is my boy with a green smoothie smile. He won’t be having those for quite a while and they all seemed to appreciate our efforts to feed them well. #momthing

21. The guys struck a good balance between allowing us to take care of them and taking responsiblity for their day. At long last, with their tummies slightly full of nutrition and their supplies re-stocked, we continued full force into the day. Tick, tick, tick…

* My husband worked the graveyard shift at Home Depot following three consecutive job lay-offs so Home Depot holds a special place in our hearts.

** Laundry induced stress, stay tuned.

Eight hour pass – Ranger School, part one

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Posted on May 11, 2013

We are now home after a whirlwind, eight-hour visit with our Ranger candidate. We wouldn’t have traded it for anything but goodness, we are two tired parents!

This is the beginning of some posts about this interesting chapter as military parents.

1. On Thursday night we received a very brief phone call from a Ranger Instructor, informing us that our son had passed the Darby phase and that the guys would be ready at 9am. We got there a little early and the parking lot was filling up with excited family members and friends.

2. Soldiers walked by inside Camp Rogers and collectively, our eagerness was dashed until 10 am. A few moms/wives spoke to their Soldier through the fence and learned their guys were recycles. I felt so bad for them. A couple of guys trudged out, ragged and thin some informing us that they had been dropped. I spoke to a few of the women and learned I was not alone in trying to figure out if we had caught a glimpse of our Soldier.

3. Taxis were waiting and a couple of guys paid a driver an additional $20 to wait specifically for them no matter what. I helped facilitate the transaction by handing the $20 to the cabbie through the fence. When a couple other guys tried to take the taxi, there was a moment of tension but it all worked out.

4. A picture I snapped while waiting. We were not prepared for the pressure we would feel trying to get everything done. This was calm before the storm.

5. I didn’t bother with any makeup, the mission was clear. Take care of the kid and his buddies. No glitz or glamour. Not much of that kind of girl anyway but yeah, this is me. Understandably many of the girlfriends and wives looked pretty and dressed up. I’m just a mom, no need to bother. It’s all good.

6. The first time at Fort Benning several weeks ago, we learned our son was a recycle. Since this was our second time at Fort Benning, it was a blessing to learn he had passed. The Hubs paced that road waiting for his boy.

7. It took us longer to travel to him, then we had to spend time with him but we’re not complaining. The Hubs and I were honored to be able to serve our Solider and his buddies.

8. At 10 am, there was a blur of young men pouring out of the Camp Rogers.

9. People were happy. Very happy! People kissed and hugged, shook hands and cried. FREEDOM!

10. Time was of the essence as the guys just wanted to get out and enjoy the eight-hour pass.

11. As full as the parking lot had been, soon it was thinning out. An incredible amount of things to do in a very limited time.

12. My boy still looked like he had some meat on his bones and we took him and we whisked two other buddies the heck out of Fort Benning. Now the fun began! Rev your engines, here we go!

That touchy subject of mothers-in-law, what can we do differently and better?

13 Comments

Posted on May 7, 2013

Thanks to all who read Hannah’s guest blog post about being a good mother-in-law.

Old girl speaks to her younger self and to anyone else who cares to listen

It was one of my most popular posts.

But it’s interesting.

While many seemed to read the post, there were a lot less comments. I’m not blaming anyone. I get it.

You see, my own MIL relationship was complex. If blogging existed many years ago, I might have added my own stories. But my MIL Ruth died 17 years ago, my stories are limited, now seasoned with time.

In the bathtub prior to her passing, I wrote my MIL’s eulogy and on that cold February day in a Lutheran church in Peru, Indiana, I attempted to speak words of appreciation through my grief. I loved her and still miss her. I know I’m not alone in that sentiment.

As the mama of three olive shoots and no daughters, I want to do it right. I realize it’s not totally up to me but I want to do all I can to facilitate the relationship.

Sadly, many women even in the church, women that I love and admire in many ways, they roll their eyes when speaking about their MILs. It’s like picking an open, festering sore when I ask for advice. Such hurt and pain. Godly, Jesus loving ladies speak with disdain about their MIL and this prospect frightens me. What can I do differently?

Wedding day with a very large headpiece!

So here’s my stab at what I wish my older Cindy would have told the new bride Cindy. I’d love to hear your thoughts.

1. Remember your mother-in-law is trying – She wants you to love her and like her. She’s going to make some mistakes, so will you. Remember this lady birthed your husband and she wants to be in your life.

2. Don’t take everything so personally – It’s hard being a new bride but don’t make

Ruth was a pretty bride! Love seeing old pictures!

things more complicated. Maybe she wasn’t trying to make a nasty dig at you, maybe it was not a poorly veiled hint that you are in- competent. Give her a break.

3. Ask her to help you with something – Allow yourself to obtain instruction. Here’s an example, my MIL knew how to use a pressure cooker, she bought me one but I never used it. She bought me a cast iron pan which I really wish I would have kept. Let her assist you in something, it’s not a sign of weakness.

One of the few pictures we have of Ruth holding Aaron.

4. Listen to her life story – She has some wisdom. Appreciate the journey she has traveled. Glean from her victories and sorrows. It will give you a glimpse into her heart when you know her story.

5. Apologize – You’re not always wrong, she’s not always right. Extend grace and when there is a struggle, talk it over in a loving manner if possible. Your husband will be blessed that he wasn’t put in the middle. Your MIL wants your approval, you probably crave hers – MILs can be insecure.

6. Thank her – The Hubs, then only a fiancé was napping in the family room. I was sitting on the shag carpet, she on that miserable, uncomfortable couch when I said, “Thank you for raising such a good man. Although he will be my husband, I want you to know, he will always be your son.” I meant that. It was my intention to be the wife, not replace her as another mother. Ew.

My widowed father-in-law lives nearby and occasionally I will still thank him for raising such a good man, I want him to know how much I appreciate the way the Hubs turned out.

Truth is, life was difficult for my mother-in-law. It was hard seeing her struggle.

7. Pray for her – I married her son prior to my spiritual conversion to Christianity. This presented a problem when my MIL overstepped her boundaries in a very sensitive area of our lives. It didn’t go well and that’s putting it mildly. I remember searching for Bible verses to use in responding to a foolish letter she had sent me. Dumb. I was hurt and she shouldn’t have gone there. I wish I had prayed for her more. She needed it in many ways.

8. Encourage your husband to communicate with her – I must say this was something I was skilled at even early in our marriage. I wanted a good relationship with my in-laws and prodded the Hubs to contact his parents regularly. When Ruth was fighting terminal cancer, I urged him to go home often even when though we had a temperamental newborn. I don’t regret that aspect of our relationship whatsoever.

This is my partial list, what first came to my mind. Teach me, friends! I want to learn!

Questions – So what am I missing? What else is there to learn? Do you identify with any of my reflections?

Advice from a young bride about being a good mother-in-law

7 Comments

Posted on May 6, 2013

Pretty, young and wise

Today’s post is from my friend, Hannah. I wrote a blog post about a time we recently spent together and when I learned she was a writer, an idea was born! She just celebrated her NINE MONTH wedding ann- iversary and I knew her fresh observations as a daughter-in-law would be useful to me. Lord willing, one day I will welcome three daughters-in-law into this family. Here’s her story and reflections.

I marry my best friend at the not-so-young age of 19. He’s been my best friend since I was 15 years old and my childhood fleets quickly. A ring finds its way on my finger, one on his too. We become one, and I become a Daniel.

August 4th, 2012 is birthed into this earth and the small church to the right of the one-road-town fills quickly.

Marrying Andrew is the best decision I ever made, besides my salvation. But can I share a not-so-secret? Not only did I hit the jackpot by marrying an incredible God-loving, handsome man, but I hit the Lotto when I got his family as mine, too.

Not that mine is bad but I enter his whole family coming from a broken one. There was yelling, stubbornness, and a divorce after 28 years of marriage for reasons I’ll never fully understand, yet my mum+dad love me, all the same.

For those reasons there is something almost magical about being a part of a family whole, untainted. Why? Because I’m now (treated like) part of a whole.

Especially by his Momma.

I know, right? She is much less Monster-in-Law’s (the movie with J-Lo) Jane Fonda and more like an angel from heaven that you get to call mom, gives the best gifts and hugs and advice…and serves the best FOOD. Yes, always food. I TOLD you I hit the Lottery with this gem of a family! So bear with me while I brag, because if you wanna know why she is the best mom-in-law (MIL[s]) everrr and what you future or current MIL’s can do have an awesome relationship with your daughter-in-laws..weeeelll, I’ll let you in on her secrets.

Sincerity – It’s all you need, really. Be a momma to your new daughter—You have raised a man that she loves, so find out why he loves her back! Be a spirit-bearer (Galatians 5:22-23), and invest into her life and get to know her. Personally, I know I felt home (yes, it’s a feeling!), when I felt like she wanted me to be there, a part of her family.

Get to know her, and want it – Especially as a new wife, it’s tempting to keep all the bad stuff about you hidden and only let the most spectacular things about you shine. Yet, somehow, this home feeling came for me when I knew she wanted to get to know me, not this fabricated version of who I’m not. Ask her to help you fold laundry as a means for talking (yes, domesticity made me feel like family) and gain a level of friendship with her. Sincerely mean it when you say she’s family.

What a great looking bunch!

Acceptance – From what I’ve observed, MILs see their daughter-in-laws (DILs) as a nuisance—someone invading and imposing on her family. I would hope DILs, just like MILs, are seen as a joy to be around.

Jesus teaches us to love our neighbor (DILs included!) as ourselves, and that can be a difficult burden or a wonderful blessing. Nevertheless, your call is still the same, “Love each other as I have loved you” (John 15:12). How? By letting facades fall: Be yourself and let her be herself (sins and all). You’ll become really appreciative of one another. (I know it’s true in my case).

And when all else fails –

Pray – Can anything good happen apart from the Lord? Pray for her personally as a woman, a sister in Christ. Pray for her marriage to your son, for them to have a thriving marriage, reflecting the parable that it is: Christ and the Church. Pray for your relationship with her (especially if loving her is difficult).

Love her, sincerely; Accept her, fully; Pray for her, continually.

And I bet you will be a mother-in-law who is cherished.

Questions – What advice do you have for mother-in-laws? Daughters-in-law, what have you learned from your MIL?

Check out Hannah’s blog at Common Thought. Such a sweet and gifted young woman.

Five minute Friday – brave

22 Comments

Posted on May 3, 2013

Why just typing about the subject of bravery is well, brave.

My heartbeat is increasing with each.word.placed.

An idea has been swirling in my head for a while now and I’m afraid. I scarcely allow myself to ponder this and now I’m nearing the moment of revealing it to you.

A sample of the things I used this week. I feel happy in the kitchen.

What if my idea succeeds? What if it’s a total failure? What’s my motivation? Do I have the physical, financial, emotional resources needed to make it work?

Speaking to over 50,000 teenagers about saving sex for marriage was brave. Sharing incredibly personal stories about my past was something I asked the Lord to help me with every time I did it and that was for nearly eight years.

But now the Lord is placing, (I think) an idea which scares me as much as the first time I entered a high school classroom full of very skeptical kids.

My dining room

I’m thinking about opening my home to encourage women with cooking and hospitality. Not as a money making idea, not to sell any kitchen gadgets or products, but just to encourage women in the art of domesticity. This is something so very close to my essence as a wife, mother and homemaker.

I think about this idea when I am chopping red cabbage or stirring up a homemade salad dressing in the kitchen. When I’m roasting poblano peppers or making a pretty table setting for my family, I feel this urge to open my home and show others how to do it. I’m so not an expert which is why I’m afraid to try.

When I think about going forward, I bravely ask God, “Is this what you want me to do?” It’s sad that I don’t know any of my neighbors, what if they reject me? So many questions and doubts but yet an eagerness and an unction to try.

Writing for five minutes is a treasure. Do it!

Should I do it? What is the brave thing you are contemplating?

Check out this word party. This might be the brave thing you need to do!

Truth is, as a mom I’m not a straight A student…a parent report card from my kid

16 Comments

Posted on May 1, 2013

This picture might indicate a lack of parental perfection.

Two people trying to do this thing right .

When it comes to parenting, I’m not perfect.

I’ll wait for a moment while you take that in. I know it’s difficult to imagine.

As long as you don’t ask my kids, the previous statement should have shocked you.

But look at this.

It’s a parenting report card filled out by my orange hair, freckle face olive shoot back in 2007.

Here is my parent report card from my youngest olive shoot.

I so wish I could remember the name of the book where I discovered this idea. For my family, it’s been a gem assignment.

With no advance notice, we would print copies of the blank report card for our olive shoots to complete. Prior to our report card day, I didn’t load the guys up with yummy desserts and new electronics, the objective was to be honest. Usually I’d just tell the Hubs it was report card time for us.

Aren’t you curious to know what your kids would say about you?

After returning the completed the report cards to us, the Hubs and I would chuckle and compare notes. “Oh, yes you DO do that!” we’d scold each other and do our best to impose guilt and shame upon one another. That is a sign of a strong marriage, btw.

Then sheepishly we’d gather together to discuss the results.

To give you an idea as to how our olive shoots approached this task, they often wanted to apologize for not being able to give us a higher grade. It’s like we all entered a safe and sacred place. Never did I find our kids were wise in their own eyes in this instance. The Hubs and I were assessed on our parenting prowess. We took the feedback and tried to do better.

And there were recurrent themes, for instance, apparently I yell. For the record, the Hubs is inconsistent.

But, hey I am good at keeping things fun and got an A+ for building family traditions.

Ike didn’t miss the chance to speak the truth in love and safety.

On one level, it’s wildly amusing.

On another, it’s immensely humbling.

“Oh yes, I’d very much enjoy providing you with a loving and respectful assessment of your ability to parent me. Thank you for asking.”

I’m not a great math whiz. History was never my strong suit. I failed Political Science in college which messed my GPA up for the remainder of my college career. I shouldn’t be surprised I’m just a B average mom with spontaneous moments of greatness. That might be as good as it gets though I’ll keep trying. It would be nice to make the A-B Parenting Honor Roll one of these days. Not gonna give up!

Question: What do you think about this idea? What do you think your kids would say? Is there anything you’d add to this list? I look forward to hearing from you!

My Awesome Olive Shoots

chronicling a contented life as the mama of three sons

Tag Archives: raising sons