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The dictionary defines Fearless as: Brave, courageous, unflinching, free, bold, adventurous, triumphant! The opposite of Fearless is Fear, which brings worry, doubt, anxiety and apprehension.

When I was 8 years old, I spent the night at my grandma’s farm house.  She lived in the middle of a 100 acre hay field, with creaky doors and tall 10 foot windows that started at the floor and went to the ceiling.  The light switch was a dangling light bulb that hung over the bed, you know the kind you have to stand up in the center of the mattress and search for in mid-air and then pull a string.  During lightening storms, the house shook, lighting up the entire room and darkness was Pitch Black!

One night, during a storm, I was notified it was bed time.  I tried to walk bravely to bed, but lightening struck and so did my FEAR, right into my throat.  I leaped from the door to the bed in about 2 jumps.  As I laid there, I noticed across the room, what appeared to be a large monster standing over my bed.  I starred it down, and without moving, it just kept looking at me.  It didn’t move; I didn’t move.  I flew under the covers to hide and remained there for about 30 minutes, sweating and wondering if this THING standing over my bed had left.  I peeked over the blanket and to my dismay, it was STILL there.  I couldn’t scream, I couldn’t move.  I was being held prisoner in a dark room by something looking at me!

Finally, when I couldn’t take the FEAR (or the hot blanket any longer) courage rose and I jumped straight into the air, grabbing for the dangling light bulb overhead, ready to fight this thing for my life.  The bulb swung this way and that, before I finally wrestled it down and pulled the string.  To my amazement, someone had hung a trench coat and hat on my bed post! I was being held captive by a trench coat. I was terrified . . . sweating, hyperventilating, and ALL for NOTHING!

We imagine the worst in life:  turn on the news and the economy is taking a nose dive, TERRORism is in our backyard and jobs are being lost at a phenomenal rate.  Will our kids go to college, how will we pay the bills, should I take another job, downsize my home?  We form ideas and imaginations in our head, self fulfilling prophecies that life is not gonna be what we thought it would.  Maybe it’s not.

We cling to Fear like a nice warm coat and those invisible walls hold us, our thoughts and the opportunity our lives hold, Captive!  What if we lived life FREE from FEAR?  Jump out of bed and dive for that light switch, expose it, the lie for which it is and grab FEARLESS by the horns.

How awesome it would be, living life outside the box. Think how different your life could be, if instead of being scared and all tangled up inside (living life in the same old rut), you just started your own business, took another job, downsized your home (this could be an adventure), wrote down that bucket list and began conquering it, took a missions trip and discovered how you can help change the world!  Walk away from the lies of what man says you can and can’t do.

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Grab on to what God says:  All Things Are Possible to Him Who Believes.  Mark 9:23  Jump Fearlessly into the unknown, with no inhibitions!  Be FEARLESS! Life is what you make it.

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Scripture to Ponder:

Let us not become weary in well doing, for in due season (at the proper time), you will reap a harvest of blessings; just don’t give up.  Galatians 6:9

I can do ALL Things Through Christ, who gives me strength.  Phil 4:13

Suggested Reading:  Max Lucado’s Book – FEARLESS

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School is out!  Sounds exciting right.  Vacation, endless fun, afternoon naps, sleeping in, no pressing commitments . . . end of Story!

But that wouldn’t be REAL Life, would it?  The honest answer is probably a mixture of fun, fighting, boredom, re-learning some “thankful” lessons, messy house, making a million snacks and enjoying the slower moments of life.

Often times I envision something a little more “Norman Rockwell” during the holidays.  Those paintings always captured the essence of the holidays:  Everyone is happy, very little complaining, the meal turns out great, the house is beautiful and clean, except for us, it’s more of a Chevy Chase “Christmas Vacation.”  Traditional food, kids flying down the stairwell in a box or bean bag, and the UPS guy blows his horn as he passes our house, watching one of the kids fall out of a tree.  Our neighbors must REALLY Love Us!!

My dad told me once that I have the “Little House on the Prairie” idealistic mentality, where I think everything should fall into place with little effort, everyone sits down for dinner together on time and so on.  When he brought this to my attention, I felt hurt, as if he had burst my “Bubble of Hope” that one day this could happen.  In retrospect, he was saving me from a life of heartache and let downs. Now that I know this about myself, I’ve made some mental changes.  Changes that prepare me for those sand traps in life that I make for myself, when I hold things to idealistic measures – built-up beliefs I’ve made in my head regarding “Mary Poppins” on Christmas Day.

Life is What it Is!  Its sort of like a house:  It’s sometimes messy and disorganized, often delightful and happy, has its occasional technical mishaps, but for the most part, we wouldn’t change it for the world.

On Christmas day, I envisioned the kids running around, playing quietly with toys, eating the cookies we made, watching movies on the couch . . .

Instead, they were skate boarding through the kitchen, while one was TRYING to play a violin, the other a piano (on disco rhythm) and the baby was being licked in the mouth by the dog.  Not what I envisioned, but that’s ok, We’re all together, happy, healthy and loving one another.  I’m Thankful.

So, now that school is out, relax, be flexible, it’s ok to let the house go for a day or two,  enjoy a little HGTV, maybe some “Mary Poppins” and let Life be What it is!  Be Thankful.

Moms work harder than anyone I know. Whether you work in or outside the home, it’s become a 24 hour job. Dishes, Laundry, School Projects, Manager Meetings, Sports Activities, Cooking . . . I can feed my 3 boys and 1 hour later, they’re starving! And those 2am wake up calls – when your child is just NOT tired and they want to share this with you or you wake up to them hovering over your face. That’s always fun!

For some reason, when the kids wake up in the middle of the night, they always come to my side of the bed to tell me they need to “go to the bathroom.” Hello! It’s rare, but even the dog knows that if he has an emergency in the middle of the night, he comes to me, dancing like a jackal, because (though he eats only dry dog food) someone who will remain nameless (my mom) felt sorry for Max and fed him a block of cheese. I’ve never seen a dog hip hop and go crazier at 2am! eh hum! Mimi is sleeping peacefully in bed, while the dog is dancing around me, hollering in a high pitched voice, as if every second counts!

So, plan something fun for you! This is a “Guilt Free” Zone; guilt is NOT Allowed. Write down the top 5 activities on your dream list: Big or small, expensive to least expensive, for a week, a day or a few hours – find time for you.

Everything has a reset button: For example, you wash the car and a week later, it needs to be cleaned out again, the pantry needs to be re-organized and the laundry has to be cleaned, and the garage – well that’s another story. As the world turns, these are the days of our lives: we need to find time for ourselves, in order to keep the “better you” at the top of the list for everyone else’s sake.

When you board a plane, the stewardess comes on the loud speaker and announces that “in case of an emergency” place the air mask on your face first, so you can assist your children. If Mama goes down, everybody’s going down. If you don’t take care of you, then who will take care your kids, your spouse, your community? If you take care of yourself first, then you are just a better version of YOU! What should we expect: Peace, contentment, happiness, patience, a better perspective.

When we live in constant chaos and busy-ness, we’re feeding something that’s gonna grow into a “Venus Fly Trap. It’s gonna eventually snap up its prey. Well, that can’t be good! But if we invest in ourselves, perhaps a weekend retreat, a one hour massage, a long drive in the car with a coffee and our favorite music, a trip to the beach, a night out with the girls, a date night with your significant other, then everyone will benefit.

If you’re really desperate, you may be thinking, a grocery store run, alone is HEAVEN. Ok, that’s pretty bad, but sometimes its the baby steps that get us walking in the right direction.

Heck, your family is probably thinking “Go, please!” Give your “Mom Membership” card a rest, go put on something that makes you feel sexy and confident; find that cute girl inside and be selfish, for the sake of those around you. Get out there and do something Fun, For YOU!!

Here’s to Adventure . . . . . and Cute Heels!

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Have you ever flown across country with your whole family, to meet someone you didn’t know?  We did, this Thanksgiving.  And this is how it all went down:

In the early 70′s, my husband was adopted by a wonderful mom and dad who couldn’t have kids of their own.  Adopted by people who gave him a great life, full of encouragement, confidence and the tools needed to be the great man that he is today.

At 36 years old, and 4 kids of his own, he began thinking about what it would be like to meet someone in this world that looked like him. Probably more curious than anything, he began a quest that would connect him with people from all over the country:  from private investigators, and Catholic Charities, to loving nuns who took a personal interest in his story.  Those nuns loved my husband so much, they called him after hours, sent emails and letters to make sure he found his birth mom.

This search, like a crossword puzzle across America, sent us to St. Paul, MN, a place neither of us had ever been.  I’m from the South, he’s from the West and with one phone call from our sources, we knew her name, address and that he had 4 sisters.  Wow!

My heart pounded for him.  I was nervous to finally have the answers. But in cool fashion, my husband took it all in stride, was neither too excited or worried, just had a subtle smile on his face.

What would they be like?  Had they wondered about him over the years?  What were the circumstances behind his adoption?  The questions were endless.  Did they know they had 4 grandchildren?

Once we discovered her name, we found more than we expected on Facebook.  It was amazing.  We discovered they had a huge family, much bigger than mine or his, which he now brags about.  One sister is a missionary in Africa, the others, quiet independent and successful in their own right.  We even found his Grandma on Facebook.

They come from a long line of Farmers, who drive huge combines, with GPS Satellite systems and laptop computers.  This was not the farming I knew, hoe-ing peas and bailing 100 acres of hay, when I was a kid.  These guys farm 20,000 acres and sell their sugar to Pepsi and Little Debbie, their Yeast to Pizza Hut and McDonald’s.  This is a smart man’s business.  They have degrees in Agricultural Engineering with Master’s in Business.  And I wanted to discuss 100 acres . . . the length of their driveway.

It was all I could do to not Facebook them and add them as a friend, but my husband had not contacted anyone, so he made me swear not to do anything crazy, just yet.

After sitting on this information for 3 months, we prayed, my husband wrote an incredible letter and with a big gulp, placed a stamp on it and dropped it in the mail.  That’s it, no turning back.  The letter started out . . . My name is John and I was born May 1973.  Whoever opened this letter would for sure, take a pause, reliving that moment, as if it were yesterday.  Waiting for a reply was grueling.  Two days seemed like two weeks, and the letter had not even arrived.  Would they be receptive of the letter?  Did the husband know?  Did the kids know?  Would this turn their world upside down?  Would it turn our lives upside down?  The questions were much longer than the answers.

Within a day of the letter arriving, the sister who was the missionary in Africa emailed to say they had known for several years and always wanted a brother.  Wow.  All guards down, they were receptive of his letter.  A couple of days later, his birth mom wrote and said “I always hoped you would find me.”  Her husband and kid’s had known.  She has 7 brothers and sisters, there are 25 cousins, many are successful farmers in North Dakota and invited us to come up for Thanksgiving to meet everyone.

Oh, Good Lord!  This was exciting news.  Really the best you could hope for.  It’s amazing how God’s timing is greater than ours.  He worked everything out for HIS glory.  Because it was Thanksgiving, many of the family members were able to attend.  One of the sisters agreed to fly in from Arizona.   We booked our flights and chatted via email for weeks, getting to know each other.  It’s funny because my husband is a quiet man, fairly reserved.  The family members had so many questions, he found himself emailing one, while face booking another and chatting with still another, all at the same time.  While he was answering questions on email, the one chatting would say:  Are you still there?  It was hilarious.  He’s never had so much attention in his life.  It was fun to see.

The mom’s husband sent an interesting email, a tale that seemed too far fetched to be real, like a story you would only see on the LifeTime network.  He began to tell us that years after living in another city, they moved back to their hometown to have their 1st child together.  They signed up for a lamaze class and turns out, across the room from the them was the birth father and his new wife who had also just moved back to their hometown. They were all 4 in lamaze class on that random Winter evening.  Uncomfortable in this awkward situation, they headed for the door. And to make matters even more unbelievable, he said the day mom went into labor, the other couple was in the hospital room next door, having their first born, on the same day!!  That’s amazing.  He said, “The entire experience made us think of you.”

Flight Day:

It was time to pack our bags, board the plane and fly to Minnesota, home of the Twins, Mall of America and cold weather in general.

4 kids, 2 adults, 8 pieces of luggage and a partridge and a pair tree.  My 6 year old announced to everyone on the plane that he was going to meet his grandma for the first time.  We had gasps from people sitting near us who thought our kids were a little old to be meeting their grandparents for the FIRST time; but after a little explanation, we were getting congratulatory offers from the crew and other travelers.

Upon arrival, it was like going to meet neighbors, people we didn’t know, but had a fondness for, until 6:30pm arrived and we were heading over to their house.  My hands were sweating.  I began video taping my husband, who thought I was going to upload it to Youtube or something; he didn’t seem to like the added pressure.  I totally understood.  Instead, I took that nervous energy and choose to remind the kids of their manners. Ok, remind . . . slash threaten them.  As we pulled up to their house, the neighbors must have known the story too, because they were standing as spectators on the street, waiting to see the reaction. Her husband, quiet the comedian, helped us all out of the car.

As we walked into the house, the mom and sisters were standing at the door waiting to give everyone a hug.  His mom’s first reaction was: “Wow, you’re tall.”  He is:  At 6. 5″ he’s very tall.  I tried to imagine what it was like to meet one’s mom for the first time or mom meeting a grown son like that.

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She was very kind, accommodating and just an interesting person to be around.  It was like we had all known each other forever.  The questions he had regarding the adoption, suddenly didn’t seem to matter so much.  Everyone goes through tough times and while the reasons are private, they were validating and it was all water under the bridge.

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Thanksgiving day was full of great conversations, board games, football, eating, drinking and laughing.   There were accents of all kinds, melded together that day, from Southern and Mid-Western to the International students they housed from China, Africa and other parts of the world.

The mom said a few years ago she lost her wedding her ring and her husband replaced it with a 5 diamond “mother’s ring.” She said she thought:  Ok, this represents my husband and 4 girls, until her son came into the picture; “now it represents my 5 children.”

The trip was a success.  Everyone was so welcoming.  We were even invited back.  Mom discovered she had 4 grandchildren, her only grandchildren.  She probably wasn’t prepared for that one.    She went from a mom of 4 to grandma of 4.  The kids enjoyed their new aunts and cousins, especially the older sister who chased them, took them to the park and the Holiday parade in 29 degree weather.  The kids threw around the football with an aunt and played foosball with cousins.  It was a treat for everyone.  The grandma, was spunky and fun, full of life and sharp as a tack.  She reached way up, touched my husband’s face, (her first grandchild’s face) as if she was figuring out who he looked like.  I’ve never seen such acceptance and heartfelt love.  We flew into their lives as strangers, but we left as family.

Thanks to all our Family members (old and new), you’ve invested in our hearts and enhanced our lives forever.  And for those who may be adopted, we pray that your experience is equally as great.  Celebrate Family – Wherever and however it comes!

Run the Race Set Before You

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Do you ever wake up and just feel out of whack?  Webster’s dictionary defines “out of whack” as,  well – it wasn’t in there, but the word “unbalanced” was:  and . . . well, you get the gist.  We go to work, to school, do laundry, pay the bills, pay the piper and our list never quiet gets done.  It’s a cycle of sorts, and for the person who likes to see the list complete, done, never to return again, it’s a barrel of disappointment.

Life is a cycle. It ebbs and flows.  There’s highs and lows, kids with good and bad phases, jobs that “Rock” today and “Stink” tomorrow.  Football teams that win big and lose big and this . . . Well, this is Life!

But if we understand this process in life, we’ll understand that when we’re in the Valley, the pain and character we gain from this experience will allow the next train stop to be on the Mountain.  And when we’re on the Mountain, enjoy its beauty.  There is much to learn from all areas of life.  Life is a journey.  The end of the journey is just that, the end.  Usually the planning (all the stuff in the middle – much like a jelly filled donut) is the most exciting part.  Life is not a straight a line with easy answers, but more like a curve chart of “the answer could be this, but it may be that.”

Of course, no one said you have to enjoy the low points: the boss that’s a jerk, crazy employees, sick kids, unanswered prayers and lack of appreciation for those who make sure you have clean underwear, but know that it will get better.  It’s the cycle of life.

Hebrews 12:1 says:  Since we are surrounded by witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders or entangles, and run with perseverance the race marked out for us.

(Translation:  Start running and never quit)!

The 4 year old dressed himself for Church

with one tennis shoe and one Croc.  Didn’t notice until lunch.

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I woke up one morning to the sound of all the kids in one room.  Turns out, they were all upstairs in the babies’ crib, where they had gotten a hold of a large Family-Sized bag of Dorito chips and busted that thing Wide open.  Everyone, including the baby was covered in ORANGE from head to toe.  They looked like little mascots for the GATORS.  They were giggling and crushing orange chips all over the place.

As I told my mom this story in frustration, she said:  Did you get a picture?  I’m like . . . a picture?  They made a mess, are you kidding?  She said:  It’s just STUFF.  It can be washed, but without a picture, it’s just a memory.  Huh!  I hadn’t thought of it that way.  I usually thought of myself, how it was more work for me to fix up, wash up and and clean up.  But if I switched gears and focused on them, it would be a funny story for later, and not so much of a downer for the kids living in the moment.

So next time you see your little one coloring their face on picture day or drawing on their bedroom wall, out of creativity and not sheer maliciousness, make a big deal out of it! Take a picture and then show them how to wash it off with Mr. Clean’s Magic Eraser.  Memories are great, but a picture is worth a 1000 words.  Start clicking!

Webster’s dictionary defines boundaries as:  Something that indicates a LIMIT; a property line. Remember the adage, “Give them an inch and they’ll take a mile.?”  It’s true.  From kids to co-workers, family members and friends alike, if you don’t set a firm boundary and learn to say “NO”, you’ll find yourself frazzled.

Ever notice how sweet a person can be when you say the word “yes” to their request or project.  It’s like seeing a little girl skipping through the meadow.  Cue the music,  The person you said “yes” to is so happy, but the minute you say  “no” it’s like a scratch on a record, a slow motion deep voice sound in their ears, nnNNNOOOO! – it’s not going to be pretty. If they’re a true friend, when they hear the word “no” they should respect it and move on.  If they’re not, they will not respect it and you’ll see a facial expression to match it.  It’s as if you’ve snatched a lollipop from a 2 year old . . . it may not be pretty.

‘NO” is one of the smallest words on earth, but one that can wreak the most havoc. Tell a baby NO, and watch them scream, roll on the floor and pitch a fit. Tell an adult “NO” and they may have a similar reaction, just a little more subtle.

People want to get rid of their responsibilities, so they try to throw them on you.  The whole world is like a game of “Hot Potato.”  If you catch it, there’s a good possibility that you’re gonna keep it and believe me, you’re not going hear from the “potato thrower” again.  They’re long gone.

This world is full of Yes-es.  Your boss gives you a project last minute, the class mom says you need to handle the Christmas Play. I’ve seen it time and time again.  We want to please people, to the detriment of our own lives.  You water and fertilize all those around you, except yourself.  But we can’t please everyone.  Heck, if we can please a third of the folks, we’re onto something.  There’s only 24 hours in a day, and we’ve got to sleep, work, eat, do homework, bathe kids, get lunches ready, go grocery shopping, COOK and the list goes on.

That’s not to say we shouldn’t be involved in a charity or out reach and help others when need be, that’s another article in itself, but when it causes you frustration, stress, anger and takes away from the time you should spend with your family, that’s a red flag to step back, pause and learn that 2 letter word, NO!

Did you know that the word “NO” is a complete sentence.  A friend taught me this once.  When you say “NO”, you don’t have to follow it up with other excuses:   Just say . . . No.  And with a smile, leave it at that. You owe no one a long reason behind your answer.  Besides, those really good manipulators will take the reason you give and move heaven and earth so YOU can STILL do it.  Don’t walk into that one.

Let peace be your guide.  I’ve found that when I don’t want to do something and say “yes” anyway, I try to justify that it is for a good cause and not that I caved in, was suckered in, because I was too scared of their reaction.  Your priority is to your family and those around you, come 2nd.

My choice to please, overwrote my chose to enjoy time with my family.  Do you NOT have enough on your “to do list”? I’ve never met a mom who’s “to do list” wasn’t a scroll.  Please, we’re not lacking for things to do in this world.  When you say “Yes” to something you should have said “NO” to, it’s like someone throwing you a bad cough and you’re catching it.  You have to take ownership of something that wasn’t your responsibility and it’s going to sideline you.

Jordan Sparks sings:  Love is a Battlefield, you better go and get your Armor, but you could also add that Protecting your Boundaries is a battlefield.  People are coming on all sides to get you to say “Yes.  “If you begin to say yes to things you should say no to, it becomes a weak link, on the wall of your castle, and before long, everyone will be scaling up the wall.

The world loves it when you say “Yes” because their list just got SHORTER!  If the person you say “NO” to, truly respects you, they’ll understand and move on.  The manipulators aren’t gonna like it; they’ll try to make you feel bad.  DON”T let them.

Time is something you will NEVER get back.  Water your garden, don’t feel obligated to water everyone else’s, out of guilt.  That would be for the wrong reason.  I’ve heard it said: You can never get back a word, after it’s said or time, after it’s spent.  Use your time wisely.

You have to protect your boundaries.  Protect the Fort.  Train others to respect them, but this also means we have to be consistent.  If one wall is weak, that is the door they will always try to enter.

Hold your ground, protect the FORT and learn how to say “NO.”  It’s a complete sentence that will give you your life back.

Recommended Reading:  by: Henry Cloud

Boundaries

Boundaries with Kids

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I have a long list of exciting things I want to do before I kick the bucket, but there’s one regret that I wish I could fix.  But as we know, life offers no do-overs and for this, I have to make my peace.

Growing up, I felt like a tall giraffe in a glass store, awkward and out of place.  If there was something to be broken, I broke it.  I could stumble on air and fall.  Quiet clumsy, It was like: Watch Watch, crash . . . break.

My mom took my sister and I to church, where I began making friends, getting involved in youth group, rehearsing for plays, and so on.  This is when I met Mr. Garvin and Ms. Way-dee, an older couple that would change my life forever.

They would invite us to their house to stay the weekends, after church or weekdays if school was out. When I entered their property, I left all my worries at the front gate. They lived on a huge farm with lots of cows.  They both seemed old, with young hearts.  I guess when you’re little, everyone looks old, though I think she was only in her late 50′s and him in his mid 60′s.

I felt like I had hit the jack pot.  The church was full of kids, but they chose us. I don’t know why, but it didn’t matter because they were mine and I was there’s.  I felt so special at their house.  Ms. Wadie taught us how to make fun desserts, can sweet pickles and make a mean “molasses pancake breakfast.”  Mr. Garvin was like the Avon man for men.  He drove down the dirts roads and sold men’s cologne, men’s hats and clothing, hair products, you name it.  He was a tall, medium built guy, sort of gruff-looking with full gray hair and a smile.

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He had a shed, slash home office out back that housed a mannequin, an office desk, dial up phone and adding machine; my sister and I would pretend to run our own business and make deals.  And when we got tired, Mrs. Wadie would send us out to the barn and we would make tunnels out of hay bails.

One day Mr. Garvin unveiled a Go Cart that had been hidden in the barn.  A treasure we had spotted in the past, but hadn’t been cranked up in years and didn’t know if it even worked.  He explained that they got it for their grandkids long ago, but because they lived in another state, the visits were few and far between.  I dreamed about -what it was like to be blood related to Mr. Garvin and Mrs. Wadie.  How lucky their grandkids were, to be able to have them as their grand parents.  But I was lucky because I got to spend many weekends with them.

Wadie never hollered, never got angry and was always sweet.  You couldn’t twist her arm to say anything bad about anybody.  She never gossiped, was always honest and had the patience of Job.  But there was one thing that could make her mad.  Don’t touch her feet.  I did one time and got this mean look that I never wanted to see again.  It actually seemed as though the “mean look” pulled energy from her body.

When I was 11, my real grandpa died.  I never knew anyone that had passed away.  And though he was sick, I hadn’t expected him to go so sudden.  I loved my paw-paw and was devastated that I would never see him again.  He and I use to drive the tractor and bail hay all day long.  We were close.  I stayed at Mrs. Wadie’s house for what seemed like a week, during all the funeral arrangements and endless errands.

One day, while looking through old records in the living room, I discovered “Swing Low, Sweet Chariots.”  I listened to that song for hours and cried.  It was depressing and comforting all rolled into one. Mrs. Wadie must have heard me play it over and over.  That house was tiny, but she knew I needed time to myself and never came in once, never interrupted, just let me be.  I knew it and she knew it.

Mr. Garvin was quiet a bit older than Wadie and was retired from running a grocery store, where they met and got married in their older years.  He would get up in the middle of the night, in boxers, talking to himself, and scratch his back like a bear on the hallway post, up and down, up and down.  I used to giggle because he had no idea anyone saw him.  I don’t even think he was completely awake for that matter.

They use to have snoring competitions and boy did it get loud.  Neither of them slept in the same bed or the same room, for that matter, because they said the other snored too loud, but believe me, either one could have won that contest.  Once, Mrs. Wadie quit snoring really loud and I thought she was dead.  I got out of bed and leaned over her face to see if she was alive.  When she woke up, I was hovering over her.  In her quiet voice and startled eyes, she said:  What are you doing?  I said:  I thought you were dead.  She just rolled over and went back to snoring.

Mrs. Garvin use to take us with him on his rounds, to check on the neighbor’s cows or visit friends.  We would hop into his old red truck and drive down all the dirt roads and hollows, knowing our next adventure was around the corner.  I remember Mrs. P down the way.  Her husband was a doctor and they were the sweetest folks. She had long gray hair that was always swooped up like a messed up bird’s nest.  With a smile and kind voice, she usually met us in the driveway.  When we stopped by, they would always talk about their grandkids, how proud they were of their children,  were never in a rush and always had time for impromptu drop-ins.

Then late one night, the phone rang.  The kind of late when no one should be calling unless something was wrong.  It was Mrs. P frantically hollering:  He’s gone!  He’s gone!  We didn’t know who was gone.  By the time we got there, Dr. P had had a heart attack on the floor and our preacher was doing CPR until the ambulance arrived.  This would be my 2nd dealing with death.  We rode behind the ambulance, trying to keep up, as it ran all the red lights.   The siren was at an ear piercing level.  It felt like the slowest and fasted ride I had ever encountered.  When we got there, Mrs. P was crying and begging God not to take her husband and I had no words.

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I will never forget the Dr.coming into the waiting room shaking his head, saying He didn’t make it.  We had just visited with him the day before.  As she heard the news: She fell to the floor and kept asking:  What am I going to do?  I wanted to fix it, but Mr. Garvin and Mrs. Wadie just held her and cried.

That afternoon, Mr. Garvin tuned up the Go Cart and we took off, my sister and I, screaming and Ya hooing all over the cow field that day, hitting thin hard-shelled cow patties and watching them blow up as we drove over them. We chased cows, hit all the bumps and flew over all the hills we could find and it felt liberating.  We didn’t have a care in the world, it was just us, the cows and the wind that day.

Garvin got a call not too long after that.  His only grandson had been killed in a car accident.  He was test driving a Porsche and it flipped on the interstate.  I think that was the saddest day of his life.  I wanted to fix the pain, but nothing could.  I felt a little guilty about being there, sort of being the surrogate grandchild, especially when his grandchild had been taken from him, but somehow, we both fit the bill for each other that day.

Not long after, Wadie came to my house.  My parents took her out on the boat, where we went with friends to “The Swing,” the Mountain Dew swing to be exact, which consisted of about 7 frayed ski ropes tied together, hanging from a huge leaning oak tree.  The only way you could get to it was by swimming up to the bottom of the steep embankment and grabbing tree roots.  Then you would grab the ski ropes, climb a little higher, jump on the swing and hoped to goodness your rear end didn’t drag the ground until you could swing out over the water and drop.  It was loads of fun, mostly because you feared greatly for your life.

Wadie had borrowed one of my mom’s one piece bathing suits.  I had never seen her in one and frankly was shocked when she agreed to go swimming.  She put that bathing suit on and we had a laugh because the pattern was bright white magnolias on the bottom and when she bend over, it looked like they were blooming.  She didn’t know that, but we did.  It didn’t matter who wore that bathing suit, the flowers always bloomed.  We were on the boat when I asked Wadie if she’d be willing to swing from the rope.  With her great big eyes, she said:  NO WAY!  I laughingly said:  “I’ll never come to your house again if you don’t go.”  I was kidding.  Hey, I was 11.  She climbed out of that boat, swam to shore and made her way up the bank and swung over the water.  In that moment, I realized just how much she loved me.  She took that challenge seriously and I was awestruck by her quick response.

HERE IS MY REGRET.  As time went by, we grew older, moved away, got married and never really kept in touch.  They were always in my heart and quiet frankly changed my life for the better in many ways, but I never told them how I felt.

A few years ago, Mr. Garvin popped up in my mind.  Not sure why, but he was on my heart.  I thought about him everyday and felt like I needed to write him a letter: tell him how much he meant to me, how he changed my life and how much I appreciated him taking me in and loving me like I was his own.  I felt a since of urgency to write, but I kept thinking I”LL DO IT tomorrow.  Then I wrote the letter, but didn’t have a stamp or his new address.  I had that “hand sweating, heart beating” do it now, but never did.  Then one day, just like that, the urgency was gone.

A week later, while visiting my dad a few hours away, I told him about not being able to get Garvin off my mind and how I FINALLY wrote him a letter (much later than I had anticipated, but better late than never, right).  I sent it off yesterday.  He said:  Oh Stephanie, Garvin DIED LAST WEEK!

OH, My heart sank.  I wanted him to know how much I loved him, how much he meant to me, but it was too late.  I had all the time in the world months earlier and yet I waited till it was too late.  My dad tried to encourage me by saying how much it would mean to Wadie to read the letter, but I should have listened to my heart, to God’s prompting.

Do you have someone you’ve been thinking about, but haven’t made the call, because you don’t know what to say, you don’t have their address, a stamp, or the time to make a quick visit?  Perhaps it’s “Their Fault.”  We can come up with a 1000 excuses, but it doesn’t matter.

Make the call, pick up the phone, write a letter, text them, write it in the sky, but do something to tell them before it’s too late.  Tomorrow is not promised.  Let go of your pride and make it right.  Be the bigger person:  The way things were, doesn’t mean it is how they have to be.

Do you have a Wadie and Garvin?  Tell them how much you love them.  They sacrificed part of their life for you and will find much joy in knowing they helped make you a better person.  Good or bad, if you have someone on your heart or mind, give them a call; we may not even understand the reason behind their name popping in our head, but give them a call, for nobody is promised tomorrow.  Keep the bucket list long and the regret list short.  Here’s to Great People in Our Lives.

“Wrap Your Little One Like the Gift that She Is”

http://www.avaclaires.com

After having 3 boys, it was my mission in life to dress my little girl like a baby doll.  I’ve started a collection of little girl’s headbands, hats, flowers and bows.  All hair accessories come with a clip, making each item interchangeable with all hats and headbands.  Feel free to check out the website at:  http://www.avaclaires.com And  ”Wrap Your Little One Like The Gift That She Is.”

Did you ever watch the Andy Griffith Show?  Remember when Goober was the gas attendant, marriage clerk and waiter at the local diner? He wore many hats.  Before he knew it, the gas attendant was writing up the marriage license and the waiter was pumpin’ the gas.  Too many hats can be overwhelming.  Even Mayberry couldn’t fix this.

Webstsers dictionary defines perfect as: Entirely without Flaw.  Pure, unmixed, correct in every detail.  Perfect is good on paper, but not usable in life.  Even if perfect existed, we couldn’t appreciate it, because we’re not perfect.  When we strive for the unattainable, it makes us fall short, feel like a failure, and only reinforces the fact that we’re not making the A+ Grade in life.

Is the house organized?  Is the homework done?  Do you have a weekly menu planned and ready to go on Monday Morning?  Do you exercise daily?  Are the kid’s clothes laid out and lunches made the night before?  Did you finish that strategic report for the office or PTA meeting?  Is your hubby happy? Is the car clean?  Wow, my head is spinning, just thinking about it.

Take one day or one week to organize, clean the car on Saturday, better yet have the kids clean the car for quarters or the garage for a day of fun. Take it one step at a time – one room at a time, one meeting at a time.

Moms have so many responsibilities and many hats to boot.   We try to keep all the plates spinning and all the balls rolling . . And for good measure, we make it look easy, so everywhere else will comment on “I don’t know how she does it.”

She makes it look easy, when behind the scenes, you’re a ragged mess.  Be real, let people see that you’re human, and change your phrase to “Practice makes Progress.”  We CAN’T do it ALL, but we CAN do it ALRIGHT.

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In the end, God isn’t going to give us a “Big GOLD Star” in the sky for being the best house cleaner or money maker, but the question is:  ”Did we spend time with our kids?  Did they feel loved?  Did we raise them to be full of character and good values?

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We’re just one person with many responsibilities and a big hat rack.  Just Do Your Best. And Forget All the Rest!!  Here’s to “Progress!’

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I can do ALL things through Christ who gives me strength.  Phil. 4:13

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I was sitting on the back porch swing one night, hanging out with my dad when he said:  ”You were an easy kid to raise.  I can’t think of One bad memory; you were a pleasure growing up.”  Well, the first thing I thought, was he needed to be checked for Alzhemers.

I smoked my first and only cigarette at 6, never ran from an argument I didn’t believe in, didn’t take baths for most of year 9, stole the family car at 16, and most evenings, it was my dad’s job to be the family mediator.  And I was EASY to RAISE??  Is there a Dr. in the house?

We often reflect on the good, forget the bad and change our life story.  Milestones are memorable, boring stuff … ‘em, not so much!

You can be in labor and think you’re giving birth to a bowling ball and a week later, you’re looking into those sweet baby eyes thinking, “When are we going to do this again?”  Oh how quickly we forget.

Growing up, I lived a pretty normal life and like most, we remember those major events: our first date, first kiss, broken bones, stitches from a bike crash, graduating from college, the day you got married, the time you ran out of water hiking the Grand Canyon and we make our own story as if life is “Connect the Dots.” Except our story is constant.  We often live for the next BIG THING, the next big event or mile marker, and life never really stops; it keeps going.

There are certain things that stand out in life, but there’s a ton of stuff in between that we forget.  And they are just as important as the blinking lights along the side of the road.  All the events, great or small, led us to the place we are today.  If we forget, it’s as if we have deleted those files, making them obsolete, as if they never existed.

My dad has some of the funniest stories I’ve ever heard.  Growing up with 7 brothers and sisters, he could have you laughing for days and never repeat a story.  Often, the memorable stories are those that include drama, heart ache or surviving a situation by the skin of your teeth.  It was a story that was exciting.  Every day humdrum life is not exciting, but it’s valid.

My mom and I took a trip to Miami once and had a blast, but the one thing I remember most was being chased by a crazy taxi driver, who thought we owed him money.  Now I’m sure we had some great conversations and exchanged heart felt moments, but that’s what I remember.

Write it down, keep a journal of the funny things your kids say, moments enjoyed on a fishing trip, a story your dad told, meaningful conversations with friends.

Let’s face it, as we get older, we get further from our story. In the movie “Australia” the little aborigines boy tells his friend that he has to go on a journey, a “Walkabout” to get his story.  If he doesn’t go, he will have no story and will never Belong.

Getting a D on a Geometry paper or riding the bus home everyday is not memorable.  Having someone spit Redman Tobacco out the front of a bus and have it hit you in the face, as it came through the back window, now THAT’s memorable.  That’s my sister’s story.  And I’m sure one that stands out in her mind.

Life is slow and long and there are incredible moments that happen in our lives that tend to stand out more than others, but don’t neglect the small things, the mundane stuff, the laying in the floor with our kids on a rainy day, hearing them laugh.  The time you climbed a tree and secretly wished you lived there, listening in silence to the wind blowing quietly through the leaves.

Write it down.  Record those giggles; they won’t always sound like that.  Write down the little moments that seem so insignificant.  We can go on the journey and find our story, but if we don’t write them down to pass along to the next generation, it’s as if they never existed; they never belonged.  Go write your story.

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One day after hearing my girlfriends talk about shaking things up a bit in the bedroom, I thought I’d go get a Brazilian Bikini Wax. Not thinking very clearly, I decided to make an appointment with the full service spa next door to my video production company.

What I should have done was made an appointment with a spa in the next county and walked in mysteriously under an assumed name with a bag over my head and just went for it.  But oh no, I had to go next door to my office, where everyone knew me.  I walked in, not really knowing what to expect  It’s kind of like having a baby.  You go in smiling, you come out bargaining with God, promising anything if he’ll just make the pain go away.

I walked in, they put me on this waxing table and asked me to put a thong on.  Hmmm.  Red Flag. . . Next thing I knew she’s poured honey on everything and when she goes to Snatch, I shot off the table crying “Mother of God!”

She tried to distract me by asking questions, like  – how much does it cost to have old reels transferred to DVD?  Yank!!!!!!  and as I was giving the answer she snatched again.  She snatched twice before I could take a breath.  “Oh Lord Jesus, I can’t take this anymore.”  You can fool me once, but not twice.  I told her I didn’t care what it looked like down there, if the honey stayed or went, I was outta there.

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I grabbed my clothes and left.  I’m sure they had a big laugh that day, as I headed next door to my office.  At the end of the day, I made sure I parked in the back just to avoid passing the front of their store.  There’s got to be a better way to shake things up in the bedroom, because I can assure you, no husband will ever appreciate the pain you go through, getting a Brazilian Bikini Wax.

When I told my husband what I had done, he fell off the bed laughing.  You know, men are not complex.  He said I didn’t need to go to all that trouble to Shake things Up.  But was wondering if I brought home the thong.  I said honey:  I think a piece of it is still down there.

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Do you ever take your kids shopping with you, thinking – “It can’t be as bad as last time.  Hmm.  You might as well put your finger on the stove girl, cause you are fixing to get burned . . . again!

Why we think something so horrible will get better, I don’t know.  The minute you walk through the doors of the Mall to make a quick run for that cute blouse, Timmy has a melt down, Mary has to go to the bathroom and Sam can’t sleep in public.  Dear Lord.  It’s just sheer “Will Power” to really want to go shopping, for us to take our kids, after repeat offenses.

When I was 7, my mom took me shopping at a department store.  While she was in the fitting room, I saw this mannequin on a platform.  My 1st thought was – Is it wearing underwear?  So, while I waited for my mom, I climbed up the ladder onto the platform; as I was putting my head under the skirt to see what was under there, the W-H-O-L-E thing fell 10 feet . . . and I came down with it.

The older ladies ran and got my mom, who was embarrassed beyond belief.  My mom grabbed me by the ear (remember that trick?) and hauled me out to the car, hollering, “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?  I said:  I wanted to see if the mannequin was wearing any underwear.  She looked at me with those stern mom eyes (the kind that puts chills down your spine) and I said:  If you were wondering, it WASN’T.

And that’s why you don’t take kids shopping, if you REALLY want to joy yourself.  Get a babysitter, trade play dates with a friend, go shopping in the evening or on the weekend, mow somebody’s lawn, just get time alone, Girl!

Then you think, “I’ll take “laid back” Johnny with me and leave loud Suzy with Dad.  Forgetaboutit!  It’s like trying to loose weight.  We work out hard all week and eat junk food on the weekends and never really get where we wanna go.

Keep the kids all day or all week, but when it’s your turn to enjoy PEACE and QUIET, get that Star Bucks coffee, find your favorite music on the ipod, jump into the car (ALONE) and head out to that “Well Deserved” time away.  You can’t do it half way.  Oh, No!  As the song says:  Go Big or Go Home!  Here’s to Peaceful Shopping!

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You Can Swing Over the Water Son, Just Don’t Get Wet!

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Do you ever walk into a room and your husband has one of the kids by their feet, swinging them across the living room as they scream in sheer terror and excitement, while you envision pictures of stitches in the ER?  It’s something I can’t watch.

I heard a statistic once that said:  When a child sees their father, their heart rate excelerates.  When they see mom, their heart rates decreases.  Interesting.

The other day my husband knew that I needed a break, so I took off, ran a few errands, did a little shopping and had an enjoyable few hours to myself.  Upon my return, I walked in the front door and noticed the kids were playing in the ATTIC!  An unfinished attic with partial boarding on the floor and Hubby was no where to be found.

Hmmm.    My husband said:  ’It was raining and they needed to explore.”  Well, that certainly makes since.  Why didn’t I think of that.  NOT!  Funny thing is, they rarely get hurt on his watch. It’s Amazing.

I came in one day, and on “Dad’s Watch”, found the baby asleep in the high chair in front of the TV watching VH1.  J-O-H-N!!!!!  His excuse, ” I was reading the boys a book and the baby was tired and hungry and VH1 seemed to do the trick.”  Well alrighty then.

Now I see why their heart rates go up.  It’s part fear and excitement of the unknown, of living on the edge.  They don’t know what’s in store for them, but whatever it is, with dad it is going to be exhilarating.

But when they see mom, their heart rate goes down.  Well, of course.  They get to live another day.  It’s because they know mom will give them food and a hug, not a roller coaster death drop.  They associate mom with safety and nurture.  We give them a sense of calm, keep them focused and on task.

Dad lets them fly down the stairwell on a mattress or in a box.  Often times, I want to roll them in bubble wrap before heading off to the park, where I know they’ll try something crazy and get hurt.  But then I have to remember,  kids need to explore, take risks, learn and try new things.

Opposites attract.  God knew this would be a perfect fit for our kids, to give them a sense of caution and adventure.  So, hold your breath mom, say a few prayers and break out the bubble wrap, because dad will be home soon.    Here’s to creative parenting.

When I was little, I hated taking baths.  When it was time for one, I would throw soap into the water, let it turn gray and make a few swishes to keep any listeners at bay.

But it was the smell of NOT taking a bath for a week – that told on me.

Turns out, my little ones have the same gene.  Often times, after playing outside for a couple of hours, my kids get that “dirty stinky school bus smell.”  They beg me not to have to take a bath.  They have turned out to be quiet the negotiators.  They should do well as salesman in their later years.

So as an incentive, after dinner I tell them they can have dessert -IN THE TUB!  You have never seen a child run so fast, jump in the tub and take a bath.  The power of a popsicle or jello cup is incredible.

For me it’s a Win Win. They are getting a bath and my kitchen is not sticky from dripping popsicles.  So when the tub is drained, I just have them drop the popsicle sticks and jello cups in the trash and everyone is happy and sparkling clean.

Here’s to a clean kitchen and clean little bodies.  : )

Webster’s dictionary defines an advocate as:  a stand in, defender, promoter of another. Have you ever watched parents of a sick child or one with a disability, whether physical or mental?  They’ll do whatever it takes to make sure that child has all the resources they need to enter mainstream society, integrating their children into conventional classes and giving them every opportunity available.

They attend meetings, do research, create fundraisers, write letters and work tirelessly, along side the teachers and medical advisers as an advocate for their child.  There is no greater call or mission in life than to stand up for your children and give them the best opportunities available.  These moms are quiet impressive.

We need to be an advocate for our Children’s Spiritual well being.

If you’re not there for them, who will be?  No one will love or care for your children, like You will.  Nobody!

We have to stand in the gap for them and pray for their teachers, their friendships, their salvation, their protection, their character and integrity . . . who they will marry, and the list goes on. Once they board the school bus, they are physically out of your hands.

When you’re in the “carpool line” at school, Pray!  When you’re loading groceries in the “check out line” Pray!  You are their advocate, the one who has their best interest at heart.

Don’t be shy or passive when it comes to representing your children in any capacity.  They need you to be praying for them.  They need a defender who will pray for their present, their future, for the Lord to guard their hearts, so they will not bow to the wrong peer pressure, but to be confident individuals with all the resources they need to be the people God has called them to be.

Be their little voice, their defender.  If you don’t stand up for them, who will?

Lamentations 2:19

Pour out your heart like water before the face of the Lord.  Lift your hands toward Him . . . for the life of your young children.

Suggested Reading:  Power of a Praying Parent, by Stormie Omartian

When I was 6 years old, my friend eh eh “Tammy” stole a pack of her Grandma’s cigarettes that were sitting on the window ceil.  I can remember her Grandma saying a few choice words that morning, while looking for the pack of missing cigarettes. After 10 minutes of searching high and low, she headed to the store to buy another pack and we headed to the barn to smoke our first.

For reasons unknown to us, maybe boredom or just wondering what it was like to smoke a cigarette, we headed out to the barn and lit one up.  We were 6 years old.  I can’t imagine my 6 year old doing something like this today.  I still hold his hand to cross the street.  But way back when, we ran around barefooted, explored the back country and the world was our oyster.  If you had a bike and a buddy, you ruled the world.

There were 4 of us in the barn that day.  We had a “look out man” a “cigarette lighter”, a “cigarette smoker” and one, whose job was to double dog dare us into more shenanigans than we were prepared for.

The barn was creepy.  It was full of huge pieces of meat hanging to dry from the rafters; there were 40 or 50 jars of can goods (green beans, slimy okra and tomatoes) sitting on the shelves and about 10 jars full of something clear, not identified at this point.

The barn had a dirt floor; between the smoking and coughing our lungs out, my friend “Sara” placed a jar full of clear liquid in the middle of the dirt floor and double dog dared each of us to pee in the jar. Sounded reasonable to me!  One by one, each girl pee-ed in the jar. NO problem.

When it came my turn, I wasn’t one to loose a Double Dog Dare, I mean, I AM a Southern Girl and you can’t back down from those.

As I was squatting down to pee in the jar, one of the girls lit a match to light her cigarette, something we had all done.  But this time, as I squatted down to pee, she flicked the match into the jar.  As if in slow motion . . . the match hurled toward the clear liquid.  When the match hit the jar,  the force of the BLOW shot me out the front door.  I just remember holding on to my pants as I flew through the air.  I had no idea what happened, I was just IN . . .  The AIR.

When I hit the ground, I flew across wet grass as I scrambled to pull myself together.  When I got myself in order, I realized the barn was ON FIRE!!  Two of the girls ran, one was on fire and I (sorry to say, at 6 was scared to death) I ran too.  I ran home as fast as I could.

My mom, barely 23 years old herself, looked at my smutty little face and singed eyebrows and said:  Did you have ANYTHING to do with this?  I froze in fear and said:  “NOoooo!”  And that was the end of that.

By the time the fire department arrived, it was too late.  The barn had burned to the ground and my mom never mentioned the incident again. I later learned the jars of clear liquid contained 100 proof liquor, Moonshine, to be exact.  Did you know that when Moonshine ignites, it produces a Blue Flame.  That explains what I saw when I flew out of the barn that day.

Tammy’s Grandpa had hidden it on the shelves.  It almost killed us.  As a matter of fact, no one ever mentioned the incident again.   Grandpa kept in on the down low because he was hiding Moonshine, and we kept it on the down low for fear of going to jail or WORSE, getting our butts whipped.

Little things can turn into big things.  I mean, I was just bored that day and we went from stealing cigarettes and smoking them, to burning down a barn and running for our lives.

It’s important to have a Life Plan, goals to strive for.  I didn’t wake up that morning and think:  “I’m gonna smoke a cigarette.  But I woke up with NO PLAN and ended up following others who DID have one.

Where do you want to be in 5 years, Mentally, Physically, Financially, Spiritually?  Are you gonna let people peer pressure you into things, or are you gonna be the Peer Pressure?

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Know what you want – and go for it; otherwise, all it takes is one person to “Double Dog Dare YOU” into something you really didn’t want to do in the first place; and then small lies becomes big lies and the truth ends up on the “down low” and you end up on the side lines of life – missing opportunities and wishing you had stayed true to yourself.  Send me your story!  I Double Dog Dare You!

What is special about your Hometown? From accents to people, culture and lifestyles, tell us your story.

-I’m a Southern Girl through and through.  Ask anyone who knows me; when I travel to the Northeast, I couldn’t loose this accent to save my life.  People ask me questions just to hear me talk.  I love turnip greens and occasional grits.  My husband, who is from AZ asked, “What’s A Grit.”  Oh Lord.  He had a huge learning curve, moving to the SOUTH.

I’m originally from Shelby, AL population, well, I’m not sure. Google could not find my town on the map, only the closest city, Columbiana, with a current population of 3,800.  And I lived there 20 years ago.  There’s never been a red light in this town and the closest grocery store, Piggly Wiggly is 15 minutes away.  Even spell check didn’t pick up the words Piggly Wiggly.  hmmmm.  See!

Growing up in a small town, I longed for the Big City, thinking there was something bigger and better out there.  When I found it, I missed my town, a place where everyone knows everybody and there’s always a helping hand when you need them.

Now, when I visit, I appreciate the sense of community;  little league teams wearing sponsored shirts by the local insurance company,  running into one of my old High School Teachers at “The Pig”, and the excitement of how the Shelby County Wild Cats football team brings everyone together on a Friday night.

These days, you can find “A Grit” and turnip greens just about anywhere, but nothing can replace the town where I was raised.  It’s good people with good character, ideas and sensibility.  You can’t beat that.

-Tell us about your hometown.

My 7 year old son ran into the kitchen and said “Mom, the DisneyWorld commercial just said:  Kids go ask your mom to go on our website and play a game.”  I’m like, WHAT?  He said:  Yes mom, they were talking to ME.  Let’s go.

A few days later, “Mom, the commercial said go to the website and register to win $100,000 dollars.  We need to go now.”

And yet I had asked him to clean his room and put the dirty clothes in the laundry basket and NOTHING.   He immediately had no ears, no recollection, AMAZING, right?

But the minute I sneak a cookie out of a rattling bag and head to the back porch “BAM” . . . What are you eating . . . did I hear something rattle in the pantry?

Have you noticed that their ears quit working when the TV is on.  Instead of talking over it, just turn it off.  It’s amazing how their ears will return and be willing to do any task to get it turned back on.

I saw a woman on TV once that said her son was playing with matches and accidentally lit the broom on fire.  As he was urgently running through the house to tell his mom that the laundry room was on fire, he passed a TV with cartoons on, stopped and began watching them, losing all sense of thought and forgot about the fire.  Unfortunately the house burned to the ground.

So when you’re giving your little one a task or instructions, make sure you turn the TV off, cause Mama is in charge and if your competition is the TV, it will ALWAYS win.  But if you turn it off, it’s amazing how quickly their ears will return.

Does the TV have power over you, or do you have Power over IT?  Who’s  running the show?  Please send us your comments.

Have you ever walked into a coffee shop and thought “oh, this is the best coffee ever? I bet you didn’t walk in and expect a fantastic massage or the barista to give you advice on car insurance.

It’s the same with moms, we may be good at tons of things:  homeschooling to preschooling to teaching them character and confidence, or how to kick a mean soccer ball, but we aren’t experts in everything.  It Takes a Village to pull it off.

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When you watch a movie, check out the credits.  You’ve got the director, producer, editor, sound guy, technician and “Dancing man with funny looking teeth” as the crew listed to make the film a success.  One person can’t do everything.  It took a village.

Let grandpa teach them History or take them on a bug hunt, perhaps tell stories about when he was a kid; have grandma give them a baking class, let your sister take them to the park or break out the science kit.

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My parents use to send me to my grandparent’s 100 acre farm for a week at a time.  We knew everything there was to bailing hay, milking the cows, shelling peas, hoe-ing a garden and what month is the best time to plant tomatoes.  Living down there was definitely an experience.  They say, the one thing that grandparents can give, over everyone else, is TIME.

We need others to help fill in the blanks.  We can’t be their entire world “forever.”  As much as we try, it’s important for us as moms and for the kids – to spread their wings, become a little more independent and well rounded.

After all, our goal is to teach them how to fly.  It’s hard to think about, letting go of the reins and putting them in someone else’s hands. When they are asleep at night, they’re growing.  When they learn something new, they’re growing.  It’s just something that can’t be stopped.  We want them to hurry and crawl, hurry and walk, are they meeting their goals . . are they on target for their age group?

Keep them as close to you, for as long as you can, but don’t smother them.  As you give them freedom and guidance, they’ll stay close, because you’ve given them the independence, the strong foundation they need to be a complete person.  They trust you and respect you.

And as you teach them to fly, it may look as though they have left the nest or got a little rebellious streak, but like a great coffee shop, they’ll be landing at the drive thru to pick up that One great product you’ve always provided, and that is the support, encouragement and love you’ve always offered and they will always need.  It Takes a Village, Girls . . . and an occasional cup of coffee.    Here’s to great families!!!