Category Archives: parenting

October 20, 2011

Snake Lover

By So Here's Us.... life on the raggedy edge.

She was four years old. A tiny little thing with curly pig-tails and big blue eyes. We had enrolled her in a program called Wee College. It was a weekly program for preschoolers to teach them the bible, kind of like a beefed up Sunday school for overachievers. The system was pretty old school, but the teacher was dedicated and creative, so it worked.

We coasted through the lesson on the creation of the world, but when it came to the garden of Eden we hit a snag. It wasn’t that she was uninterested in the story, in fact, she was fascinated by it. Satan in the form of a serpent tempts Eve to eat from the forbidden Tree of Knowledge and the innocence of humanity is lost. While all the other children learned important lessons about temptation and sin, she had a completely different take on the story.

“Mom, I like the sneaky snake. He’s my favourite.”

We didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but settled somewhere in the middle. No amount of discussion or explanation could convince her that the snake wasn’t the BEST part of the story. She drew pictures of him, talked about him and dug through her children’s bibles to find pictures of him. Was this a sign of things to come? Did my precious daughter have a rebellious streak a mile wide? In a word, yes.

The year before, we had enrolled her in a community dance program. She disliked being ordered around and preferred to literally dance to her own rhythm in the corner of the room. In one situation when the teacher instructed the girls to dance around in a circle, she proceeded to pull her tutu over her face and run around in the opposite direction, knocking the poor little ballerinas down left and right. I must admit that after removing her from class and disciplining her, I had to retreat to another room to roar with laughter.

But she is also a free-thinker and a non-conformist. That same year she decided that she was a true princess and proceeded to wear a tiara at ALL times. It was with some difficulty that we convinced her she must take it off for baths and at bedtime (though occasionally we would go back in to check and it would be back on her head).

Lately she’s become more and more concerned with what people think of her. She still marches to the beat of her own drum, but it’s quieter now, less flashy. She’s gotten shy in new situations and less comfortable with being the off-beat, quirky one.

It makes me sad. I know that life is easier if you’re not the “weird one”, but I think it’s better if you are. Conformity to the norm is great for assembling Ikea furniture and making origami, but it’s not a virtue I admire. While I don’t want her to be weird for its own sake (a la Lady Gaga), I want her to find their own voice; to be the unique person God made her to be.

On a completely unrelated note, this same daughter has begun a campaign to get her own snake. According to her, they make great pets.

So here’s me, absolutely refusing to buy a snake, but appreciating the sentiment all the same.

Here’s a blast from the past on finding your own rhythm:

2 Comments   |  tags: , , , | posted in creativity, parenting

October 11, 2011

The Silly Factor

By So Here's Us.... life on the raggedy edge.

We’re a family that likes to play games: Uno, Blokus, Sorry, Trouble, Charades… We try to make time at least once a week to play together. Another family tradition we have on these nights are the musical stylings of none other than… myself.

I’ve paid my dues, time after time.

So, I’m not exactly musical, at all. In fact, I’m rather tone deaf, but I more than compensate for this with sheer enthusiasm.

I’ve served my sentence, but committed no crime.

“No, Mom, not again! Why must she keep doing this?”

And bad mistakes, I’ve made a few.

Cue the groaning and eye rolling. The occasional pillow is thrown my way, but don’t fear, I am spry. I don’t want to die with this music in me!

I’ve had my share of sand kicked in my face, but I’ve come through!

This is where it gets loud!

Na-na-na-naaaaah-na

Naaaaaah-na

Naaaaaah-na

I AM THE CHAMPION MY FRIENDS

AND I’LL KEEP ON FIGHTING TO THE END!

I AM THE CHAMPION!

I AM THE CHAMPION!

NO TIME FOR LOSERS, CAUSE I AM THE CHAMPION…. OF THE WORLD!

In addition to illustrating what an incredibly gracious winner I am, this little conert is an example of one of our family’s greatest strengths. We are silly.

When the girls were little Glen use to tickle them while singing “May the bird of paradise fly up your nose, may an elephant caresse you with his toes…” I’m pretty sure HIS Dad used to sing it to him. My Dad preferred to make up his own words and was more likely to bellow bizarre phrases than sing. The words “Total Alabama!” were a frequent exclamation. I have no idea what it means, but it still makes me smile.

I don’t know what it is about kids that awaken the inner goofball. Both my husband and my father are fairly quiet and reserved people in most situations, but they can behave like complete nutbars with their children. It’s fun to laugh at and with each other, but it’s so much more than that.

Our absurd rituals and goofy traditions build intimacy. We create a weird and crazy world that is uniquely ours. Yes, we discipline, we fight, we build routines to make life run smoother… we love each other in hundreds of practical ways. But there’s something precious about the fun times when we truly LIKE each other too.

So here’s me, singing on and on and on and on.

Leave a comment   |  tags: , , , | posted in home-making, marriage, parenting

October 4, 2011

Embracing the Raggedy Edges

By So Here's Us.... life on the raggedy edge.

We have a family motto that my Mom-in-law finds deeply disturbing: “It’s not great, but it’s good enough.”

It started one year as we tried to put the star on the Christmas tree. The slightly less than straight, but definitely much beloved tree our girls had picked out. Pretty soon we were saying it all the time – hanging a banner, decorating a cake, writing an email…

I didn’t set out to make mediocrity my goal. It’s hardly the stuff inspirational speeches and parenting books are written about. I do want my children to be wholehearted and hard working; to “work as if for the Lord and not for men”.

Yet I can’t bring myself to mold them into ideal Stepford children. Not only does it require enormous amounts of energy, but it sucks the joy out of life. As a recovering perfectionist I can tell you that the mindset is both exhausting and paralyzing. It’s hard to get anything done, when every little thing has to be done with excellence.

Instead I will train them to pick their battles; to save their time and energy for those things that are most important. I want them to know that they can do anything, but they can’t do everything. Hopefully I will teach them this while learning it myself.

It is hard to accept that I have limits and to live within those boundaries. So when the ghost of Martha Stewart (I know she’s not dead, but she does seem to haunt all women from time to time) peers over my shoulder with a disapproving look, I just say that motto out loud. It’s not great, but it’s good enough.

So here’s us, where life is messy and somewhat crooked… and good enough.

Leave a comment   |  tags: , , , | posted in home-making, parenting

September 23, 2011

The X Factor

By So Here's Us.... life on the raggedy edge.

It was the best of T.V. It was the worst of T.V.

Simon Cowell’s slick marketing has paid off in our house. Our family jumped right on the bandwagon last night – or at least pulled up a chair to watch the fallout. He’s a money-grubbing jerk and I really can’t stand him, so what am I doing here? What is the allure of reality T.V?

It appeals to our worst instincts….

You know, the one that taps on the brakes when you pass by an accident. The one that has you craning your neck to catch  a glimpse of the fashion faux-pas your children are snickering about. The one that perks up your ears when the couple in the booth behind you is having a heated argument. These are the instincts that make reality T.V. so appealing.

We’re amused when people play the fool. We enjoy a chance to heckle with impunity (or maybe that’s just me). And there is something interesting about seeing just HOW BAD it can get, whether it is dancing, singing, or contrived social situations.

In the grand tradition of She Bang there were many “What the WHAT?” contestants last night. The perennial question is: are these people actually trying or is it just a cheap ploy to get their 5 minutes of fame? For their sake, I hope it’s the latter. Although the shocked and outraged rants following can be rather convincing; perhaps a future in acting?

Note to parents: When watching reality T.V. with children in the room one must keep a finger on the fast forward button at all times. We have taught our kids to yell “BEEP” when something happens with which we disagree. This is a fine time for moral discussions and exploring our family’s stance on _________ (insert: sluttiness, profanity, grandstanding, arrogance, stupid hair cuts), and that’s just the judges.

Case in point: the low light of the night’s episode was a smarmy middle-aged hippy in velour pajamas singing his anthem “I’m a stud, not a dud” while stripping off said pjs. Even in fast forward this was horrifying. I’m slightly disturbed that his profession was listed as “internet blogger.” Are these my people now?

I’m not a complete idiot. My brother-in-law is a big cheese in this industry, so I know that reality shows are not entirely (or even mostly) real. Yet somehow I am willing to overlook the obnoxious shenanigans, shameless self promotion and forced emotion to find the happy ending.

It appeals to our best instincts…

It’s not all hip thrusts and screeching; there are also the highly cheesy but deeply satisfying “diamond in the rough” storylines too. Tonight is was the cute 13 year old who announced to the world that her family “has, like, no money” and then went on to sing like a seasoned pro. And the heavily tattooed garbage man fresh out of rehab trying to prove something to his young son, singing a touching if unfortunately named original song, “Young Homie”.

But the real tear jerker for me was single mom Stacy Francis. After years in an abusive relationship, she began to believe that she was not talented enough, not young enough, not good enough, quite simply not enough.  At 42 she stepped up and said, “I don’t want to die with this music in me.” She sang Natural Woman in front of thousands, if not millions of people, and blew us away. Whether fame and fortune follows or not, she gave the world a moment of pure brilliance.

Was it real? Does it matter? Despite the over the top theatrics, there is something uplifting about watching people succeed, even if it is only for a moment.

So here’s me, with one finger on fast forward and one eye open for the next Susan Boyle (or William Hung, whatever).

3 Comments   |  tags: , , , | posted in media, parenting

September 12, 2011

Capital ‘P’

By So Here's Us.... life on the raggedy edge.

I remember the moment you were born. It was so quiet – not a cry, not a gurgle, nothing… Your Dad tells me that it was only about 30 seconds before you started crying, but I had already started freaking out, “Is she okay?! Is she okay?! What’s wrong?” That little squall was one of the most beautiful sounds I’ve ever heard.

When they held you up for me to see I couldn’t believe how adorable you were. I fell even more in love with you. You looked like a little baby burrito and you had the sweetest little face (still do).

We spent the next 4 weeks sitting on uncomfortable stools while peering into the baby aquarium (aka: incubator), then holding you gingerly so as not to jar all the tubes and needles, taking turns driving to the hospital in the middle of the night to try to get you to eat, and finally bringing you home where you belonged. That whole time, while I was scarfing down cafeteria food and covertly skimming through your file, I was researching. While I shadowed the nurses and learned about everything in the special care nursery, I was researching. While I was playing milk cow and preparing tube feedings – still researching.

We were given a stack of books, brochures and web page print outs like you wouldn’t believe. And to be honest, they were helpful. They prepared us for the leukemia scare, the tests and medical procedures, explaining Down Syndrome to your sisters and a thousand other things. But they were filled with frightening statistics and scary possibilities.

You were already so precious to us, and the thought of you facing all those difficulties broke my heart. I wish I had known then what wonderful things lay ahead. I wish they had told me that.

I wish they had told me that you would love with abandon. That one of our biggest problems would be trying to get you to stop kissing EVERYONE. That you would melt the stoniest heart with your huge grin. That we would make friends everywhere we went, because you’re so cute and charming!

I wish they had told me that you would make us laugh everyday with the crazy things you do. That you would pray every single night for God to bless your “chocolate face”. That you would perform beside the TV whenever we watch “So You Think You Can Dance” – ballet, the samba, hip hop… you name it. That you would end each dance, song and occasional mealtime prayer with “Ta Da!”

I wish that they could have told me, along with all those intimidating statistics that there was a 100% chance of fun. That despite all the headaches and heartaches along the way, you would fill our life with pride and laughter and joy. I think this song from MY childhood says it best:

You are a promise.

You are a possibility.

You are a promise, with a Capital ‘P’.

You are a great, big bundle of POTENTIALITY!

So here’s to B, my pride and joy! Happy 7th Birthday!

10 Comments   |  tags: , , , | posted in parenting, special needs

September 6, 2011

Bippety Boppety Boo!

By So Here's Us.... life on the raggedy edge.

I would listen with rapt attention to everything they said. I noticed how they dressed, found their jokes hilarious and craved their advice. They had credibility for one simple reason: they were NOT my parents.

Most of us have had at least one person who took an interest in us when we were young. Especially in the teen years these adults seemed cooler, smarter and infinitely more interesting than our own parents. With only a few minutes attention when we need it most, they can have a HUGE impact on our lives – for better or for worse. When I was trying to figure out who I wanted to become it was these youth leaders, sunday school teachers, friend’s parents and family members who made a difference. My parents set me on the right track and they encouraged me to stay the course.

Back when I did staff training we called it the “expert-with-a-briefcase effect.” Everyone would listen and respond so much better when an outsider was brought to teach them exactly the same things we had been saying all along! I couldn’t take it personally, since the same held true when I went somewhere else as the “expert.” We all sit up a little straighter and open our minds a bit wider when the teaching comes from someone new.

Last weekend I stood in front of the church and made vows. I had been asked asked to stand up as my neice’s godmother. Now, I must confess this is not my first gig as a godparent. Unfortunately, between job changes and moves across the country, we have lost touch with the family that asked us over a decade ago. We don’t really know our godson and even with Facebook in the mix it doesn’t seem likely to change. But I am determined to do better this time around, even more so after all the solemn promises I made.

The ceremony was held in a beautiful old church complete with liturgy, vestments, kneeling and all sorts of Anglican customs that seemed both strange and exotic to me. Godparenting is not something Baptists have embraced and I think it’s a real shame. All parents could use a little spiritual back-up; an expert from the outside if you like.

It’s easy right now – my neice is a sweet, happy baby who gives a great snuggle. She has a bit of a puking problem, but she and I have discussed it and we feel it’s under control. But I want to be there for the not-so-easy days too:

when an unkind word seems like the END of the world…

when parents are JUST SO UNFAIR…

when it feels like no boy will EVER look her way…

when they do…

when church seems ____________ (stupid/boring/hypocritical/irrelevant)…

when there are more questions than answers and God seems far away…

Thank you to all of you who were there for me on those days! I hope my own kids will find role models like you. People who are not only fun and silly, but wise and compassionate. Parents are absolutely crucial, but the old saying is also true: it takes a village.

With a busy family of my own, being a godmother seems somewhat daunting, but oh, so important. Not because her parents aren’t terrific, but because they are. Since most of the godparenting examples I know of are either magical fairies or ruthless mobsters, I’m asking for help. I do all the talking in this blog and I’d love to hear from you for a change.

So here’s me, asking for your ideas. What are some practical ways I can support my new god-daughter?

Plus, a muppet clip… just ’cause.

3 Comments   |  tags: , , | posted in parenting, spiritual

September 4, 2011

Extreme Parenting

By So Here's Us.... life on the raggedy edge.

I was watching T.V. and accidentally skimmed through some sports channels (that would never happen on purpose). I actually stopped when I saw a man (an overgrown boy-child most likely) riding his bike down the mountainside and off a cliff, at which point his parachute opened and he plummeted into the ocean below. Apparently mountain biking wasn’t thrilling enough for him, he just had to add that extra oomph of sky diving. Some people call it pure stupid, but officially it’s extreme sports.

I’ve realized lately that my blogs often include graphic descriptions of my youngest daughter’s habits and issues. Not the most upbeat portrayal of one of the loves of my life. There are so many upsides to being her mom too.

When I’ve tried to explain what it is like being a special needs parent the best phrase that comes to mind is extreme parenting: we have higher highs and lower lows. We go through all the same phases and learn most of the same stuff as other kids, just at a different pace and with some unique twists along the way. Parenting my “typical” children can tie me in knots too, but everything I’ve gone through with her is more – more intense, more time, more guilt, more fear, more pressure, more celebration, more affection…

Up – She gives hugs with her whole body – head snuggled under your chin, arms tight around you with a little pat, pat on your back while her whole body relaxes right in, until you peel her off.

Down – Everything takes longer for her to learn. It is frustrating and discouraging, and that’s just me, I can’t imagine how she must feel. She has to work so much harder than everyone around her and she will never completely catch up.

Up – One of the highlights of my life is her first step. Sure, it was a long time coming (she was 3 1/2) but the celebration is worth the wait. Our whole family danced around the house laughing and cheering. Every accomplishment is a party!

Down – She will always need me. Everytime someone makes an empty nest comment I feel a little pang. Oh, I expect she will live somewhat independantly and have her own life, but she will always need hands-on parenting. She will never go to university, tour Europe with her friends or have children of her own.

Up – She will always need me. My baby will never outgrow us. I will always have unrestrained laughter, silly dances and the best hugs in the world.

Tired of boring old “normal parenting”? Sick of being just like everyone else on the block? Bring a disability into the mix and you’ll meet interesting new people (therapists, doctors, teaching assistants and more), learn new skills and become an expert researcher. You’ll learn to navigate complex government systems and you’ll get an awesome tax break (Glen likes to call B “our little tax write off”). You’ll wrestle with God; you’ll have to trust Him with your future, and hers. But best of all, you’ll realize that your child is worth every little bit of effort and more.

I’m not going to lie, if we were given the choice we would eliminate Down Syndrome from the face of the planet, both for her sake and ours. But I wouldn’t trade my girl for the world! Besides, I’ve always been a big fan of rollercoasters.

So here’s me, enjoying the ride!

3 Comments   |  tags: , , | posted in parenting, special needs

September 1, 2011

**it Happens.

By So Here's Us.... life on the raggedy edge.

I was in fine form this morning. I lurched out of bed and a curious smell wafted down the hallway. Nothing says “Good morning” quite like this: something our family fondly (okay, not so fondly) refers to as a “craptastrophe.”

And it was all downhill from there. The big girls fought about absurd and unimportant things for hours on end. The checkout lady at the grocery store was the slowest moving land mammal on the planet. My usually attentive husband was watching a mind-numbing golf tournament all day.

I’m sure you’ve heard the phrase “if Mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy.” Well, they don’t call them truisms for nothing. I was selfish, resentful, impatient, angry and altogether ugly today; so the whole family followed suit.

As my 9 year old stood before me weeping, I kicked the rant into high gear. The yelling was beyond a tone of voice. It felt good to embrace the rage. When I was finally done dressing her down, she hiccupped, “Can… I .. uh… just… uh… say… something?” Grudgingly I allowed her to speak.

This happens often when she’s in trouble. Regardless of how clear the situation, she launches into her version of events, hoping to explain her superior perspective. I suspect she may end up becoming a lawyer like her aunt.

Usually, this only gets her in more trouble. Today, however; at the end of her halting explanation, I was appalled to realize that the entire thing had been a misunderstanding on my part. She hadn’t actually done anything wrong.

That was the low point.

There’s no other way to say it: shittiest parent in the world.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I wrote this two weeks ago and haven’t quite brought myself to post it. What would be the point? Not only is it an exceptionally un-flattering peek into my world, it is just so depressing.

But then I remember how that day began:  Craptastrophe. For us, this goes beyond a poopy diaper. Thankfully, what was once a bi-weekly experience is now a rare opportunity to test our parenting metal. Our daughter occasionally dabbles in something the developmental psychologists call “smearing”. Perhaps it is a convenient medium for her artistic endeavors. Perhaps she is trying to clean it up. Whatever the reason for this bad habit, when things are very quiet and very smelly, we know what to expect.

I’m sure you have the mental picture: it’s on the sheets, on the walls, on her clothes, in her hair… And if that’s not disgusting enough, she gives us her usual toothy grin. Yep, it’s in her teeth too.

Even now, when we gag and complain and offer each other outrageous favours to do the clean up, she’s still cute and sweet and altogether wonderful to us. We love her just as much even when she’s covered head-to-toe in shit.

Cause that’s what family does. They love me, not matter what: even the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad version of myself. Whatever clean up needs to happen – an apology, several apologies, an anger management course, a time out… I know that they’ve got my back and I’ve got theirs.

So here’s us, shovelling it together.

4 Comments   |  tags: , , , , | posted in parenting, special needs

August 23, 2011

little Grown Up

By So Here's Us.... life on the raggedy edge.

Last year your new teacher asked us to describe you to her. Brevity is not a virtue of mine and there is nothing I like to talk about more than my kids, but I had mercy on her. I simply told her you are “the oldest child of two oldest children” – enough said.

Birth order theories are widely disputed in psychology circles. Research results are mixed and the theory is often thought to be inaccurate and misleading. But so is trying to explain an entire person with something as clumsy as words on a page.

Be that as it may, these words fit you to a tee: responsible, conscientious, organized, accurate, rule follower, nurturer, worrier, respectful… The teenage years are sneaking up on us, but I’m not worried about you, because you have such a good head on your shoulders (your dad however – he’s going to be a mess). You are already becoming an amazing young woman.

I hope that you will continue to tell me, in exhaustive detail, everything about your day (but not movies – because frankly I need the summary to take less time than the movie itself). For everything else I’ll take all the details, laid out in proper chronological order with glimpses of your quirky humour. Not only because I like to know about your life, but because your perspective is so kind and positive. You truly believe the best about people and find the good in them.

It warms my orderly little heart when you write your schedule on the white board in your room (even during the summer when the hours are filled with tasks like: wake up, go outside, read, play with Paige). You also have a habit of writing “notes to self” all over the place. If I can’t remember the date or what we have planned, you can outline it all for me.

You went to overnight summer camp for the first time this year. Although your dad was crying in his soup (literally), I was proud of you for being so independent, but I can’t believe how much we missed your help while you were gone. We try not to rely on you too much, but you’re just so dependable and helpful. I know whatever career or life you choose, you will make yourself indispensable to those around you.

Far too soon you will be grown and gone, but you’re still my little girl now, so here’s my “advice to an eleven year old”:

Get Messy – From one control freak to another, life is full of interruptions and changes in plans. It’s not fun for people like us, but sometimes the best stuff comes this way. Enjoy the moment you are in and let the future take care of itself. A schedule is ALWAYS a good idea, but only as a guideline not a strait jacket. With God’s help you can handle whatever life throws your way. So don’t worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring its own worries. Today’s trouble is enough for today. Matt 6:34

Stand Up – It’s almost impossible to offend you, except for your sister who can do it by breathing in your general direction. Apart from C’s special gift, there is very little that ruffles your feathers. More than any of your qualities, I think this one will serve you well in life, since the most miserable people in the world are over-sensitive, victim types. Being that easy going you are able to maintain genuine friendships with kids who struggle to get along with everyone else. But there is a time to stand up for yourself. You deserve to be treated with respect and sometimes you need to demand it (in a gentle, respectful way I’m sure).

Speak Up – You are not shy in the traditional sense. You aren’t afraid to try new things, even when you don’t know many (or any) people. You are quiet and prefer to stay in the background, especially in a new situation. There is nothing wrong with quiet – I married quiet – and I could probably stand to embrace quiet a little more in my life. But I worry that people will miss out on knowing you, because you don’t speak up. Remember the Hoos Rules for social situations: smile, look them in the eye, speak loudly and make the first move. It’s like dance, the more you practice – the better and easier it gets.

So here’s to my oldest – I’m so proud of you!

Happy 11th Birthday L!

1 Comment   |  tags: , | posted in parenting

August 20, 2011

BIG

By So Here's Us.... life on the raggedy edge.

Doctors speculated she was a result of undiagnosed gestational diabetes. I called her Buddha Baby. Her dad called her “The Rock.” However you want to say it, our girl was substantial.

Both her sisters were rather scrawny babies, so I look back fondly on all those baby rolls. There’s something about a chubby baby – you just want to squish them (but in a good way). While my back and arms may have protested, we thoroughly enjoyed our large bundle of joy.

I can’t believe it’s been 9 years since we first saw that enormous head (it’s called back labour – so yes, I have every right to complain). A lot has changed: I now have to beg, borrow and steal hugs from her, she’s more likely to try and pick ME up than consent to be carried around, AND she is now on the small end of the growth chart (3rd percentile I believe).

Although she is by far the shortest kid in class, but she’s still BIG in all the best ways. She has a BIG personality, a BIG laugh, and a BIG imagination. Sometimes it seems like our house can barely contain all the drama and emotion (cough – diva – cough), much less such a petite body.

Last month, she found a thick pair of “nerd glasses” and Professor Oogen Shmoogen was born. We were to refer to her as that at all times. When asked, she informed me that her full name was “Oogen Shmoogen the Unknown”, Professor of Awesomeness. I’m a little sad that the professor has faded away, but I know that with this girl, there is always something crazy and hilarious just around the corner.

When C’s name comes up in conversation with other adults (teachers, coaches, friends parents, et cetera…) the reaction is almost universal. A shake of the head, a chuckle and a comment like “what a character” or “she’s so funny”. At her soccer awards ceremony her coach said it well, “it’s not the size of the dog in the fight, but the size of the fight in the dog.”

My daughter’s larger than life temperament can be hardship – both to her and to those around her. It can be overwhelming, dealing with all that emotion and determination. But most of the time, she uses her powers for good. And all the time, the world is a better place because she is in it.

So here’s my “advice to a nine year old”:

Be brave – I know you feel shy when you are in a new place or a new situation, but you are a leader and you can choose to act like one. If you focus on how other people are feeling,you will know what to do. Act friendly and confident and before you know it, you’ll feel that way too.

Be generous – You are a collector extraordinaire (read: pack rat), a shopper and a money magnet. Your stuff matters to you, and that is what makes it such a gift that you are able to share with others. You have a great capacity for kindness. Never forget that people are always more important than stuff, always.

Be kind – You have no idea how much power you have to do good. It takes a BIG heart to treat others the way you want to be treated (Luke 6:31). I know you have it in you.

So here’s to my BIG 9 year old – Happy Birthday C!

Every year we write a birthday letter to each of our kids – both memories of the past year, things we appreciate most about them and encouragement to become their best selves. This year C gave me permission to post it on my blog.

In case you are wondering, I don’t use names or recent photos of my kids for privacy reasons. We are trying to adopt from the foster care system, so confidentiality is an issue.

3 Comments   |  tags: , , | posted in parenting