Trying To Let My Kids "Become"

I've started listening to the audiobook version of Michelle Obama's autobiography, Becoming. One of the things that has struck me so far, was Michelle's description of her mother's parenting style. She remarks that even as she would complain to her mother about teachers, friends, school or what-have-you, that her mother would never indulge her in her whining, but would rather listen, and occasionally say things like, "I see" or "oh my" - indicating to her daughter that she was listening, that she had her full attention, but was also allowing Michelle to make her own way, to develop her own thoughts on things, rather than just regurgitating her mother's opinions.

This is kind of new to me, and I love it.

I've always tried to instill curiosity and independent thinking in my son. He has a very scientific way of looking at things, enjoys figuring things out and asks lots of very good questions - questions I often answer with a another question. I am by no means a perfect parent, but I do think I have some good instincts. That, coupled with early childhood education training means that I am frequently looking at parenting situations, attempting to analyze what is being learned, what new skills Aidan is picking up, what he isn't quite getting yet, and what opinions he is making for himself.

Of course, he is at the age where most of what he thinks about things is what I think about things. Aidan is also one of those kids who is always trying to please the adults around him - especially me. I've noticed he has some anxiety, especially when he thinks I won't like something. For example, I picked out an outfit for him the other day. It was the shirt that he had gotten from "pirate" camp, because it was Talk Like A Pirate Day. He wanted to wear a different shirt, which I didn't know. He put on the pirate one, but came out of his room softly crying. I asked him what was wrong, and he said he didn't want to wear the pirate shirt, but didn't want to ruin Pirate Day, and he didn't want me to be upset. 

I felt terrible that he was so upset about something that was not a big deal, and that he thought I would be angry over a silly shirt.

He is his own person, and I need to recalibrate how I do things, so that he doesn't feel like I am just making him an extension of myself, but rather giving him the space to become his own person.

In addition to all of that, I am a mother of two now, and each child is different. This is something I am learning the hard way. 

My daughter is what they call a high needs baby. She was colicky for a long time, and still has difficulty in the evenings. She spends most meals sitting in her high chair crying and screaming. She is very frustrated by... well... life. She wants to be able to do everything, she gets into everything (this morning it was a bag of flour, last week it was mascara), she screams when she doesn't get her way, and she is ALWAYS on the move. Always has been. She has been teething since she was 4 months old, but only finally got her first tooth at Christmas - when she was 15 months old! That makes for one very grumpy baby.

I am sorry to say that I had very specific expectations for what having a little girl would look like - and so far it's been basically the opposite. More and more, I am learning to let go of my expectations, and let my baby... become.

If she is going to be rough-and-tumble - I need to make sure she has knee pads.

If she is going to have strong opinions on everything - I need to teach her how to form those opinions and stand up for them.

If she is going to be hard to settle - I need to learn what it is that comforts her.

If she is going to feel things deeply - I need to help her learn how to express those emotions in healthy ways.

This is a simplistic story, but one that kind of sums up what I mean:

I've been thinking about Jocie's 2nd birthday party theme, and planning a swan themed party in my mind (and on Pinterest), when the other day I looked at her and told her, "you're more of a llama girl than a swan girl, aren't you baby?" Llamas - they're fun and colorful, a little loud and spit sometimes. And yet, everyone loves them!

I am learning that it is not my job to tell my kids who they are meant to be. It is my job to support them in who they are meant to become. To help them find the tools to achieve their goals and dreams. To be "into" whatever they're interested in. (For the record, I know WAY more about dinosaurs than you'd think!)

This takes a conscious effort on my part. I have to make sure that I am not smothering or stifling my kids with my expectations.

This of course does not mean that I have NO expectations - there are chores, involvement in sports, learning an instrument, being respectful and kind... BUT I am trying to ask more questions and listen even more. I am trying to see my kids as separate individuals.

Every evening at bed time I speak words of affirmation over them. Things like, "You are strong. You have such a big heart. You are such a good friend. I love how you are kind to your sister. You are so brave. I love how you were helpful and showed Jesus to your friend." These are the things I hope to see reflected in them as they grow up. Beyond that... I'm trying to give them an open range. 

I will be here to love, support, research, learn new things along with them, hear their view on situations, and try not to take it personally when they think things different from me. My kids are not made in my image. I don't want them to feel like unless they metaphorically look like me, that I won't be happy with their choices.

So, if you need me, I'll be over here looking up science experiments for kids, reading LEGO manuals, researching anger management for toddlers, not pushing "pink", planning a llama-licious birthday party and drinking coffee. Lots of coffee.

When the Cracks Start To Show

I can see this building from my apartment. It's a pretty nondescript building. On most days it just kind of blends in with the surroundings - apartment buildings on one side, a church and cemetery on the other.

But then it rains.

The building becomes patchy, showing all the different, half-thought-through paint jobs. Places where it's maybe had a little work done, places it still needs some, and places where water is clearly seeping in through the walls. 

The building is a mess.

But you wouldn't know it on a sunny day. Rain brings out the building's true character. The rain isn't what caused the (initial) damage. It was there all along - the rain only made it more visible... and caused more destruction.

When life's rainstorms come - that is when who we really are comes to the front. It's easy to look happy and content when the sun is out and the birds are singing. It's easy to be creative at work when everything is great at home. It's easy to stay patient with the kiddos when no one is sick, everyone is getting full nights of sleep, and money isn't a concern. It's easy to go about your day when you're healthy and happy. It's easy to be involved in people's lives around you when you feel fulfilled in your personal life. It's easy to act okay (even if you're not) when - to those around us - everything seems to be going well.

But when things aren't going our way, or tragedy strikes - that's when who we really are on the inside comes to the forefront. It's easy to botch a project at work when you and your spouse are arguing. It's easy to snap and yell at your kids when you're sleep deprived, the kids have the flu, and you just got a credit card bill in the mail. It's easy to get discouraged when you're overwhelmed and exhausted. It's easy to shut people out of your life when it feels like too much of an effort. 

The cracks... they start to show when the rain begins to fall. 

So what do we do? Because the rain is going to come, whether we like it or not. Do we find a giant umbrella? Do we cover ourselves up in scaffolding? Do we hang a "condemned" sign out on the front door?

No. We put the work in to fix the cracks. We use the time when it's not raining to fill in any gaps, rebuild walls, hire professionals if we don't know how to do it ourselves (go see a doctor, talk to a therapist, take a class, join a gym, get your nails done), fix any leaks, and admit that you're "under construction".

 We all have things in our lives that make the "rainy season" hard. That may be anxiety, a heath concern, friction at work, stress at home, or financial troubles; and if we don't deal with these things, they begin to define our character. They leech into how we feel about ourselves, how we treat others, how we relate to God and the world around us.

Thankfully, the answers don't lie within ourselves.  Romans 12:2 says, "Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will." Psalm 46:1-3 says, "God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging." 
Contrary to common misconception, nowhere in the Bible does it say "God won't give you more than you can handle." There are plenty of times where God gives us more than we can handle. In fact, we are supposed to get to a point where we realize that we can't handle it. We were never meant to handle it. We were meant to give it over to God. God is the one who is there to carry those things that just feel to heavy and like they are going to crack our foundation. That is why we are called to build our "house"/our lives, on the rock.

Matthew 7 tells us the story of two men; one wise man who built his house on the rock, the other a foolish man who built his house upon the sand. When the rains and floods came, the one that was built on the rock stood firm, while the one built on the sand collapsed. We are called to be like the wise man, with his foundation on the rock. It is not because of the builder that the house didn't fall, it was because of the strong foundation - Christ.

We are living in a very self-satisfying and self-centered society. There are "Christian" self-help books that barely mention God, let alone leaning on Him rather than our own understanding (girl, your face is washed, move on). If we build all of our hopes and dreams on ourselves... who is there to turn to when the cracks start to form, and it all starts to fall apart?

We all have cracks, bruises and stains. But unless we deal with them, they become real problems that eventual shape and form our character. 

There is a loving and gentle God, who doesn't look at your imperfections as justification to bulldoze you. He takes the hurt and overwhelming feelings, uses them as part of your story, and helps you to become whole again. So, when the cracks start to show, and you can smell the rain in the air, know that you are not alone.

Momming On the Edge...

... of sanity, that is!

Dan has traveled a lot this summer. Like, a lot a lot.

Which leaves me home alone with the kids. Alone. A lot. Like, a lot a lot. It wouldn't be so bad, except our youngest is kind of a handful, especially in the late afternoons and evenings - which happens to be the same time our oldest is also home. (He's at his kindergarten's summer program during the day.) She still isn't consistently sleeping through the night (although it's much better than it was). She cries a lot. She's really needy. And then there's the 5-year-old, who is great, but also... you know, a 5-year-old. There are meals to prepare, clothes to wash, the apartment to clean, kids to keep alive, all while not completely losing it. There are bodily fluids and smeared snacks all over the place it seems. There's crying - and not just from the kids. There are missed showers and crack-mom ponytails. 

My parents are not nearby this summer, and all of my friends here are also mommies of small kids, and facing the same struggles I am.

This has left me feeling pretty lonely and overwhelmed at times this summer. 

And yet, we're surviving.

So, here are my 5 "Momming on The Edge" tips, if you find yourself in a similar situation.

1. Multi-tasking

When my 11 month-old has made a complete mess of herself and the highchair, I stick them both in the shower. Together. I hose down the highchair, plop her out, bathe her, badda-bing, badda-boom, they're both clean. She gets a kick out of it, it's quicker than getting out her baby bath, and the high chair is ready for the next day, too. I'm calling this a win!

2. Easy Meals

I cook. I cook well. My husband cooks better, and does most of the cooking. So when he is out of town, I try to make it as easy on myself as possible. Here are some of my go-to meals, feel free to steal them - 1) spaghetti (enough for leftovers), 2) thicken up some of the remaining sauce (that's in the jar, not made into Bolognese) with some tomato paste, buy toppings and cheese and a pre-made pizza dough - pizza night!!! 3) boneless/skinless chicken breasts and a Patak's simmer sauce - butter or peanut chicken! 4) My kid prefers raw veggies to cooked - score!!! Wash, chop, serve, done! 5) Hot dogs. Done and done. 6) since my son gets a multi-course, nutritional meal at kindergarten, some nights we just have sandwiches - and you know what? He loves it. No need to make it harder than it needs to be.

3. Go Out Or Stay In

Whichever is easier. Don't feel pressure to do something every day, unless that's what you want to do, and it's easier for you. For us, some days it's easier to head into the center, and let the baby take a nap in the stroller, and hope I can get a hot coffee in before she wakes up. Other days I binge watch on Netflix. It's called balance, and I'm here for it.

4. It's Okay To Admit Defeat

One of the Saturdays I was alone, I headed into the city center with the kids. I had grand ideas for the day that included a playground, fun lunch, and adorable "I can do this" selfies. Jocie wouldn't fall asleep as I planned, but I sat down at a cafe for a coffee anyway. Aidan was on a fish statue/jungle gym thingy right next to me. Jocie was screaming at me for a snack, and Aidan was asking if he could have an ice cream, and I was so overwhelmed, I knocked my coffee into my lap, after only getting one sip. (see first picture) I let Aidan get his ice cream, paid for everything, got up, and scrapped the plans I had for the rest of the day. I looked at Aidan and said, "I am wet, uncomfortable and embarrassed. We're gonna head home now." So, we bought sandwiches, went home, changed into jammies (it was like 11 am), watched TV and called it a day. But the kids were alive, they were fed, and actually pretty excited to just hang out at home. So... yeah. Sometimes you just have to admit defeat, and be okay with it.

5. Loosen Up With the Rules

We're kind of sticklers about bedtime. But when it's just me, and I'm trying to get the baby to sleep, I'm not getting hung up on what time Aidan goes to bed. It's never later than 8:30 anyway, and it's summer, so... I'm giving myself a break on that one. He wants a snack, even though he just ate? Fine, whatever, here's some pop corn. Jocie doesn't want to lay down long enough for a diaper change AND clothes? Fine, chill in a diaper. It's hot anyway. You want a donut after school? You promise not to whine about taking a shower if I get you one? Super, the donut's all yours.

This obviously does not reflect our normal, everyday routine. But, in an effort to all be alive and well when Dan gets home, these are some of the coping skills we've picked up.

The point is, if you're at a place in your life where getting by and surviving equals winning, stop beating yourself up about it. Today, after we got Aidan a donut after school, he said "this is the best day ever"! It's clearly not "the best day ever", but to his mind it is, because mommy was happy, and he had icing dripping off his fingers.

So, if you find yourself "momming on the edge" today, know you're not alone, and this too shall pass.

How Living Cross-Culturally Made Me A Better Mom

I feel like it's important to be vulnerable - it allows us to grow, and hopefully help others in their growing process, too.  

So, here goes:

One of the hardest things about being a missionary is the itineration portion.  For us, that means going back to the States every few years, to travel to churches, telling them what we do, or what we have been doing, in the hopes that they will partner with us in prayer and financial support.

3 years ago when we were doing this, it was our first time "heading out".  Pastors didn't know us yet, we didn't have an established ministry in Slovenia we were going to - all we had was ourselves, and our testimony.

Every Sunday (and most Wednesdays) we met new people, told them about ourselves, and hoped they liked us.  That seems very basic, but it's true.  If people/churches/pastors like you, they are more likely to support you.  You have to be "on" the entire time.  You have to be chatty, engaging, and most importantly...

your children need to be well-behaved.

Can you imagine (totally hypothetically, of course), if a pastor took out two families with kids to lunch - the kids in one family are polite, talkative, cute and eat all their lunch.  The kids in the other family are tired, grumpy, shy and only want to eat goldfish.  Let's say this pastor now has to choose one family to financially support... you get the picture.

That is a LOT of pressure to put on small children - and their mom. Because it's usually mom who has to corral kids, encourage them to take one more bite, greet the pastor, and smile at all the strangers.  

And when it comes down to it, whether or not someone "connects" with you, makes or breaks your ability to get to the field - oof.

This causes stress.  HUGE amounts of stress.  You're constantly trying to make sure your poor little 2-year-old remembers to say thank you, doesn't hit the pastor's kid in the nursery, is polite and courteous, while also trying to protect them if they are feeling shy and timid.

When we got to Slovenia, it had been nearly 2 years of parenting in a fish bowl.  It left me tired, stressed and overwhelmed.

On top of that, we were dealing with a situation that was completely out of our control, that was causing great anxiety.  Added to all of that was a very angry 3-year-old, and potty training regression.  For the first couple months in Slovenia, Aidan was just very angry about all the change and newness.  He had always been very verbal, and was struggling with the fact that no one understood him.  I was on edge, worried about how we would be received, his inability to communicate, and his overall behavior.  He was doing okay at school, but his teachers said that every time he got upset, he would simply scream.  He wasn't being very nice to the kids at church, and I was frustrated on every level I could think of.  I was very impatient.  I was a mess.

There was an incident at church, where I came across as overly concerned with his behavior, to which someone said - "it's okay, they're just kids.  We all understand."  And that awakened a change in me.

Slovenes parent differently.  No parenting method is perfect, but I have adopted a few new habits that have been very healthy for our family, and I'd like to share them with you.

1. Kids are kids

No one that I've met here expects children to act any way, except how children behave - loud, goofy, energetic, etc.  No one is phased by crying in church, or a toddler having a "moment".  I've never seen a parent give another parent side-eye.  If two kids get into it, there is a general understanding that they will work it out.  There never seems to be ill-will between the parents.  It is understood that parents cannot control every little thing kids do. 

2. Let Them Do It For Themselves

We "got in trouble" with Aidan's preschool teachers, because we had been doing too many things for him.  I realized that it was my way of controlling a situation.  Making sure he always looked just so, or getting out of the house quickly.  Slovene parents are encouraged to take a step back, and let their children figure it out and be independent.  Oftentimes you'll see kids walking way out ahead of their parents.  Coming from the land of "hold my hand or else you never know what might happen", this was a huge shock - and a release.

3. "Village" Mentality

Everyone looks out for each other's kids.  

4. Some Things You Just Have To Let Go Of

I feel like Slovene parents in general are good at learning to choose their battles.  This was an important lesson for me.  I cannot get bogged down on every little thing - it is stealing my joy.

So.  I have slowly, over the past year come more to terms with the fact that some behavior isn't bad - it's just being a kid.  And that is okay.  We still address behavior that is disrespectful or dangerous of course, but try to be more understanding and lenient if it's just rowdy or noisy.  He adores his kindergarten! According to his teachers, he is now practically fluent in Slovene.  He has many friends, and hates missing a day.  He also loves church and his friends there.

I have been hearing and reading a lot about being a non-anxious presence.  Before, I was not that.  I was NOT teaching Aidan healthy coping skills by getting angry quickly, and then frustrated when he did the same.  I am SOOOO much more patient than I was!  It's a marked difference.  I am learning to let things go, not be such a perfectionist, and answer from a place of understanding and love.

Aidan can tell the difference, too.  When he makes a mess, knocks things over, or spills something, he looks at my face to see my reaction.  When he sees that I'm still calm, or hears me say, "that's okay, accidents happen", it immediately alleviates his stress too, and he's able to move forward. 

I am sorry for the times that that hasn't been my response.  I am thankful that he and I are in a much healthier place.  There is more joy in our home, tempers don't run high, and there is understanding.

With the birth of our daughter, thankfully this has only grown.  I'm not sure how, but somehow I've had more patience since she was born.  Maybe I'm learning that some things I thought were important weren't really that important after all.  I think I'm learning to let things go.

So, this is a very long post, with not much except a personal journey, but it's been an important one.

I am endlessly thankful for the reset button I found, and the child-friendly culture we live in.

What's In A Name?

What's in a name?

Names and their meanings are important in our family.  I'm not really sure why.  It probably has to do with the importance of names in the Bible, or maybe it's because the person being named is stuck with it forever, or maybe they're not even that important, I've just always been interested in it.  Whatever the reason, I've always known all our names' meanings.  Now, people don't always reflect their name's meanings, I get that.  But in my family it did seem to go that way.

Paul (my dad): humble, small.  Now, the "small" part was always funny, because he's 6' 7''.  But he definitely is humble, and always puts others' needs before his own, willing to make himself "small".

Abigail (me): Father's joy.  When my mom was pregnant with me, I would go BANANAS if I heard my dad's voice.  I came into the world in love with him, and except for some hormone-fueled years there in the middle, that hasn't changed.

Jonathan (my brother): God has given. Which is funny, because we all were told we were getting a girl, and my parents didn't even have a boy name picked out, my dad gave the name to the nurse just as a backup, and... God gave us a boy!  Also, Jonathan in the Bible was the best friend anyone could've wished for, which has always been true of our Jonathan.

Stephen (my brother): Crown.  Also, his middle name is "Andrew", which means manly.  Stephen was born a little prince in our family, with everyone carrying him, reaching things for him, etc.  Also, he is now a junior at West Point.  So the manly thing is pretty accurate too, I'd say.

Daniel (my husband): (Only) God is my judge.  I'll just leave that there, lol.

Aidan Judson (our son): Aidan means little fire.  And he is just that.  Every time I wonder why he does the things he does, I remember what we named him.  Judson is Dan's middle name, and the family name that gets passed down on his side.  I love it!

??? (baby girl on the way)

So.  Clearly, we don't take names lightly in this family.  

As I've mentioned in a couple other places in my blog, strong female literary characters are what I feel shaped my childhood, and young girl-hood the most.  So, who do we go with?

Anne - with an E?  Jo from Little Women?  Elinor from Sense and Sensibility? Emma?  Laura (Ingalls Wilder)?  Hadassah from Mark of the Lion?

As I sat there thinking about who I would like my little girl to emulate most, I couldn't help but think of the woman who introduced me to all of my heroes.  My greatest hero, my mom.

Jocelyn.  

She grew up on a farm in North Dakota, in a family of Kathys, Nancys and Susans - an anomaly, a Jocelyn.  She had dreams to see the world.  She had/has style.  She has endured more heartache than a life should be able to hold, and yet has perpetual joy.  She has an infectious laugh, and can tell a story like no one can!  She loves fiercely (fierce being the opportune word - you get it whether you asked for it, or not, lol).  She bravely followed God's call on her life, and left the comfort of the known to live and raise her family in a new culture.  She is solid in her convictions.  She doesn't waver.  She is honest.  She is the absolute most creative person I, or anyone who knows her has ever seen.  She's an insane book-lover (like, read us all, out loud the entire Anne of Green Gables series, Narnia books, The Lord of the Rings, Little House on the Prairie and many others).  She has a tender heart.  She gives everything her all.  She tries new things.  She admits her fears, but faces them anyway.  She's my best friend.

She is everything anyone could hope and dream for their daughter.  There is no one else in the world I would want my daughter to be more like.

Jocelyn means "Joyful".  She is that, unfailingly.  It also means "one of the Goths".  A warrior.  An overcomer and overthrower.  

And so, there is no greater name, as far as I am concerned.

Jocelyn.  

Strong Like Mom

I come from a line of strong women; all in their own way.  I have a great-grandmother who was a nurse, a Gran who was a teacher, and raised 3 boys, a Grandma who raised a family on a farm, an "adopted" Grandma (Mary), who lost her mother and oldest sister to war, raised her siblings, was a career woman, and had to hide under a set of stairs during the Hungarian 1956 revolution.

And then there is my mom, who has had every reason - loss, death, cancer, illnesses - to let bitterness set in, and yet is full of life and joy.

Strong like mom.

A few months ago, Target caused a buzz, because their exclusive line Cat and Jack introduced this T-shirt that had "Strong Like Mom" written on it.  The initial shirt was for boys, then they also came out with one for girls.  The reason this is such a big deal, is because moms aren't usually portrayed as strong, especially not in reference to their sons.  I love the trend of portraying women in more strong roles (cue Wonder Woman)!

As soon as I saw this shirt, I knew I wanted one for Aidan.

If he's wearing this shirt, whenever I ask him what it says, he shouts "Strong Like Mom!"  (He has even been known to say, "Strong like mom, pee like dad!", LOL!!)

At first I wondered if it was maybe a little vain of me to get him the shirt in the first place.  Or if I really am strong.

I have fears and anxieties.  Am I really strong?

Remember my mom, the strongest woman I know?  She can't swim.  Scared of swimming pools, actually.  But do you know what?  When we were kids, she would get in the pool with us, and although we all knew it wasn't her favorite thing, none of us knew the extent of that fear until years later.

Being a mom makes you strong.  You have a reason to be strong.  Someone to be strong for.

So, yesterday, when I had to fly alone with Aidan, then drive home - as it turns out in the rain - basically everything that unnerves me, I had Aidan wear his "Strong Like Mom" shirt.  Mostly as a reminder to myself.

Being strong doesn't mean you don't have fears.  It means that you are willing to overcome them.  I'm going to go one step further.  I think it is important for our kids to know that there are things we fear, or are uncomfortable with, BUT that we are willing to face them.

During one of our airport potty breaks, my sweet, squirmy boy looked at me and said, "mommy, you're my hero", without any prompting.  I could soar!!!  I never ever want to forget that moment.  He will probably never know how much his little 3-year-old self encouraged me.

So yesterday, I felt STRONG!  I felt like I could conquer anything, and I did!  We had a wonderful trip, and I drove in the rain like a boss.

My favorite verse last year was Joshua 1:9, and Aidan knows it by heart: "Be strong and courageous, for the Lord your God is with you, wherever you go."

I am strong, and it's not vain to say it.  I am strong because God makes me strong, and because my son needs me to be.  I am strong.