From the Mouths of Babes

Somewhere along the way, I mentally assigned roles to each social media site I use: this blog became a place for journaling/thinking/praying, twitter for quotes I like, Instagram for random daily life shots and Facebook for the funny things my kiddos say. (I am a compartmental thinker that way.)

Last month I caught up on turning all of my blog posts (almost 8 years worth!) into books and realized that much of what I was putting on Facebook (the silly, funny, real life stuff) was getting unintentionally lost. I really want to preserve some of that for posterity too! So, consider this a catch up post with no other point but to document some Scott-isms. :)


As I scooped a pile of dirty clothes off the floor of R's room he said, "You know, Mom, when boys start getting older like me they stop cleaning up their room as much."

Opening Day at the pool: "Mom, you know what I noticed? When girls walk you can see their rears move more than boys." -unnamed son

I woke up to my curly girl's face in my face at 6:30 in the morning. She had a serious expression as she greeted me with these matter-of-fact words: "I just decided I don't want to be the President. You have to wake up at 5AM and you have a very hectic schedule every day. But I was thinking R might really love to do it."

P, opening his valentine card from my 87 yr old grandmother. "Uh oh. She always sends money. I hope it's not too much because I am just a kid. I don't need to be rich." (finds a $5 bill) "Whee, this is the perfect amount."

Favorite part of spending the afternoon with my kiddos at Cirque du Soleil: Hearing my "gamer" say "Wow! Now I see why you say there are more interesting things than video games!"

Just told P I couldn't remember where I had put something and he replied, "It's ok, Mom. I read that after you turn 30 you lose brain cells every year." Thanks, son.

Over coffee with a friend I remarked "It is expensive to live." P looked up from what he was doing in the next room and said matter-of-factly, "Not for me! I've only got 27 cents and I am just fine."

And last night as K & R were riding bikes in circles in the driveway with our little lab following them with her tongue hanging out of her mouth I heard K say: "THIS is what it means to be loyal."

I love the sweet (and entertaining) perspective these people bring into my life!

The Spelling Bee

Although I have three children in the same grade at the same school, they've rarely been put in situations of direct academic competition with one another. We don't let them see report cards or standardized test reports. They are attune to the fact that they are gifted with different strengths and weaknesses, both in and out of the classroom, but thankfully there have been few truly quantitative comparisons.

In light of all this, you can imagine my butterflies over the announcement last week of a second grade spelling bee. P is a naturally gifted speller, K a good student who loves a challenge and R is an uber competitive kid with spelling difficulties.

The words were distributed Thursday and hours were spent in the car studying over the weekend. P was fairly nonchalant in his preparation because "I am a good speller." K had a voracious appetite for practice. R tried to match her and wound up throwing a huge fit of frustration.

Throughout the day today I couldn't help but wonder how things were going. This afternoon I learned the outcome. To my surprise, P, the 'naturally' good speller, didn't make the cut. Meanwhile, K & R were each in the top three in their respective classes--advancing to the final round tomorrow.  Though disappointed, P was a great sport about it all and even concluded that "sometimes you just need to slow down and take you time."

K & R will go head to head in a group of six in the finals tomorrow. There's been a lot more studying tonight. At bedtime K was giddy and R grew quiet. As I kissed him goodnight he confessed, "Mom, I am feeling nervous about the spelling bee tomorrow."
When I asked if he wanted to pray about it his response was priceless:
"No, because today during the class spelling bee I kept praying 'God, please don't let me get reindeer, please don't let me get reindeer' and I got reindeer! But then I got it right and prayed again, 'Thank you for letting me spell reindeer, thank you for letting me spell reindeer..."

I was too busy trying to stifle my giggles to close the loop on a lesson in the moment--but I have spent a lot of time pondering it tonight. How often I am like my boy, praying God will allow me to simply avoid challenges only to find that He would have me go right through them.

I love that R thought to be grateful to God for his success, but was struck by the fact that it still left him hesitant to involve God again...who knows what word He may hurl at him next. (I can SO identify.)

As my friend Jean commented when I shared this story, "God is more concerned with our character than our comfort." I find this truth consoling and intimidating! God doesn't always give us what we want, but rather what we need. It's stretching and scary--but ultimately it is good.

Such treasures from the mouths of these babes--and the fact that they are also frequently entertaining is just an added bonus!

Carousel

My boys have been away this weekend at Father/Son camp in North Carolina. As a result, K & I have had the precious gift of a few days of girl time. Our bonding activities have covered the gamete, from manicures to soccer games to preparing and enjoying dinner at home by candlelight. Both of us have admitted being a bit freaked out by the quiet of our home minus its usual testosterone.

I feel as if the last couple of days have enabled me to really study my girl--how she's grown, what stirs her heart, what makes her laugh. We've discussed topics from shaving legs and wearing undergarments to bullies, kittens and her abandoned plans to be President of the United States. I simply adore that child--and I really enjoy being with her as well.

This afternoon we travelled to the nearby American Girl store for a grand finale experience. Even as I planned it, I rolled my eyes at the overcommercialization of it all. (I am too often a conflicted semi-hypocrite.) My doubts were quieted significantly when we arrived and I saw the light in her eyes--permission to just be a wonder-filled little girl. Although she enjoyed looking at every piece of merchandise offered in the store (twice), she ultimately chose to spend her allowance elsewhere on a gift for a friend and a carousel ride.

 

I am admittedly feeling sappy about 9th birthdays next weekend, but as I watched my big girl on the carousel tonight, its rotation felt quite symbolic. Like the Earth going around the sun, the turning of the carousel seemed to mark the passage of time. Each lap as she slipped out of sight and then remerged, it was as if she were aging before my very eyes. My mind flashed to mental pictures of the carousel rides I recall with our kiddos through the years--on their 2nd birthdays at the Atlanta zoo, at Disney when they were 4 years old,  the carousel on the National Mall in DC when they were 6 and countless rides at the valley fair and local mall on random days in between. How could that little lady be my 2 lb 12 oz preemie?

 

As I watched other young parents holding tightly to their unbalanced wee ones, I marveled at the growth of mine. In this, like many other things these days, her independence is such that I am relegated to sidelines. But instead of making me weepy, I rejoiced at the confident, happy girl grinning back at me. This is the point, right?

I snapped another photo both with my phone and with my heart. Then we came back to the hotel to watch Animal Planet in our pjs and plan for tomorrow: breakfast in bed and a swim in the hotel pool before church.

She's delighted by all these adventures and I'm most pleased with the travelling companion.

These are sweet, sweet days.

Parenting with Authenticity

I have a lot to write about...but honestly, none of it holds a candle to two posts I've read this week by Emily Freeman. (Her titles are directed at daughters, but the advice is incredible whether you parent boys or girls...and for those who mentor/lead youth.)

When I read the first post, One Thing Your Daughter Doesn't Need You to Say, I cringed uncomfortably, then nodded and felt a bit conflicted. I was one of those good girls she describes, raised to believe that I needed to be a leader and example. While I believe the heart of this (not being a stumbling block) is true, in my immaturity it was frequently works based and Pharisaical. Wild kids in my high school called my clique 'the Cross Posse' and we liked it.

As I aged, the need to always have it together and be a good example became exhausting. I felt trapped by my image and it led to some hypocrisy. My outside behavior didn't always match my inside heart condition. My closest friends got a far different version of me than the world at large. While I still struggle with some of these residual issues, I have found that the depth of my ability to minister to others has improved dramatically as I have become willing to live more authentically. I am still not planning to air my dirty laundry for all the world to see and hear, but in relationship I am working on stripping off the image in favor of what's true.
(For more on this, I recommend this TedTalk about vulnerability from Dr. Brene' Brown.)

I am learning with my young children that they can (already) smell a rat. When I blow it they know it whether I confess/apologize or not. Humbling myself to admit my own struggles with fear, self control, impatience, etc is received beautifully by my children. I am not a fan of glorifying sin, but owning it seems to do far more FOR my credibility than pretending to have it all together. Hopefully, they are getting glimpses of sanctification through my stumbles--and growing up with a model of 'real' faith being worked out--albeit quite sloppily at times!

Which leads to Emily's follow up post today, 12 Things Your Daughter Needs You to Say. I frequently roll my eyes at checklist approaches to life--but this one is chock full of simple, yet profound truth. Hope, humility, love--a beautiful framework for family life!

I am brought back to the reminder that we aren't raising children to worship us...we are called to point them in the direction of the only One worthy of their worship. The single greatest way to do this seems to be to keep it real in our own faith. It takes courage and humility...but in the end, living authentically is far more powerful (and simple) than simply keeping up appearances.

Love Offerings

Today, all over the US, Moms wept over the unexpected beauty of random things...construction paper hearts, handmade macaroni jewelry, overcooked muffins (and in my case even carved sticks and leaves held together with grey duct tape). Well meaning children offered gifts of love to the women in their life.

It mattered not that the stubby fingers brought burnt toast, bitter coffee, or misspelled cards. Frankly, it made the treasures all the more endearing. Precious ones brought their best as a love offering and it was received warmly. We weren't weeping over the glitter or glue. Our overflowing hearts were leaking from our tear ducts. Today above all days, it was truly the thought that counted.

This morning as I surveyed the handiwork of these little people, I pondered the words of my mentor, Anita. She encouraged me to remember that even though my children would come proudly bearing gifts they think are all about me, they are really learning to share the gift of themselves.

As those words rolled around in my heart and mind I thought of the lessons to be learned as an adult. What if we, like children, still freely offered the gift of ourselves to God and to others--without fear of rejection or comparison? What if our offerings to the world, to our families and friends were like these handmade gifts, joyfully brought with best intentions?

As a Mama of multiples, I am well versed in the practice of receiving three versions of the same gift. My playroom walls are lined with art projects in triplicate. I frequently hang all three of something up. I don't sit and compare the three in order to rank them. I actually revel in how three little ones can receive the same supplies and instructions yet produce such individual work.

And so it goes with us...each given life and talents.

I like thinking of my gifts being received by a proud, adoring parent--without harsh judgment, comparison or criticism--but with a heart full of love. What a beautiful, comforting thought.

PS. If you haven't yet read this gorgeous piece by Ann VosKamp, I urge you to do so. It is the perfect nightcap for this Mother's Day.

Playing Our Part

It was five years ago this week that I first wrote about KP. This morning I sat across from her in Starbucks as she completed a talk for the Board of Directors at the group home where we first met 9 years ago.

This clean, healthy, law abiding, college enrolled woman sitting across the table from me--asking advice about her rebellious three year old--was such a far cry from the lost girl I once knew. We laughed and talked as friends, and I got to briefly tell her about the pursuant love I had for her when she was at her worst that still makes no sense to me at all apart from God. This morning in that coffee shop, the Gospel was so incredibly real and it was beautiful.

In a world that seems to be plagued by stories of tragedy, redemption is celebrated far too rarely.  Many people have been used in KP's life (and now the life of her growing son.) It has been a wild ride for such a young woman, but today she is a success story--sober for 34 months, pursuing a college degree and concerned for the welfare and education of her child. KP is committed is breaking the cycle she was born into two decades ago.

I was reminded that love is not an economic decision. Over the years I have invested myself heavily in the group home. Dozens of adolescent girls have come and go from my life and there are really only a handful with whom I keep in touch. Many times it has been gut wrenching and discouraging. If many of these relationships had ever been put through an accounting program, anyone with a brain halfway inclined for numbers would have deemed them a poor investment. Praise God that His economy is so different than ours.

I was also reminded how important it is to just keep showing up in obedience and with love to give--even when it stops making sense. We do not see as God does. We have no way of knowing what He has in mind and how individual stories will turn out. I think it may be why His command is stated simply and without caveats--love your neighbor as yourself--whoever your neighbor happens to be at the moment.

It has apparently not been God's Will for me to have a prominent role in the majority of the stories I've encountered in the last 10 years. In most I have been relegated to an extra, long forgotten in the background. But by His providence, I am blessed to have a recurring role in this one, as a cheerleader for this young life.

And, frankly, it gave me a bit more perspective on my role as Mama. For the last three days I was out of town with a group of women. As is often the case, MUCH of our time was spent discussing motherhood. The undertone through so much of the conversation was guilt and fear. I couldn't help but wonder if we have put too much weight on our role. Make no mistake, I believe shepherding little hearts and souls in an incredibly important job--a lead role. I am counted among the women exhausting myself in an effort to 'do well.' But, there are other characters in the story.

As parents we have the privilege of launching little ones into the world, but God (thankfully) uses so much more than just us...teachers, coaches, aunts, uncles, grandparents, neighbors, Sunday School teachers, Young Life leaders, Youth workers, parents of friends...We have a vital part to play, but it is not all on us.

I am reminded to prayerfully seek God's Will for my role with my children--not the one society, peer pressure or my ambition has assigned, but the one He has uniquely equipped me for. In this season with my family it seems to be Truth Teller, Life Coach and Encourager in Chief. There are MANY other roles that I sometimes play...but I cannot do them all and I would go so far as to say it would be dangerously prideful to believe I can. This whole parenting gig is a lifetime trust fall.

Pray hard.
Breathe deep.
Show up.
Love like crazy.
And trust the One who thought these precious people up in the first place.

May we be faithful stewards of what He has entrusted to us--humbly remembering there is an assigned portion and cup--and avoid the prideful temptation to overreach.

Lord, you alone are my portion and my cup; you make my lot secure. 
The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance. Psalm 16:5-6 NIV

Lexington

I did not intend to be gone away from the blog for so long, but my husband and I took a bit of a journey back in time this weekend, travelling to celebrate his 20th college reunion from Washington & Lee University. Our accommodations were at a quaint bed & breakfast / Virginia farmhouse that did not have WiFi.  It was a treat to sleep late with open farmhouse windows--and embrace low tech living as a true throw back to 1993.  

 

I didn't meet my husband until 1998, so much of his W & L experience is known only to me in stories. It was a neat experience to see where he lived, meet many of his old friends & even go to a party at his old fraternity house.

And while I confess that my inner introvert was exhausted by the countless parties that demanded far more small talk than I typically enjoy, it was an important opportunity to get a clearer picture of who my husband is--and how God used the four years he spent in Lexington to mold and shape him into the man he is today.

I enjoyed learning about the influences of George Washington & Robert E. Lee and how many of the traditions they started continue to be observed today.

 

And while we were away our children were home making memories of their own with my parents and our beloved sitter. The children were bubbling over with stories to tell upon our return. It absolutely seemed as if they each grew an inch or more over the weekend.

 

I am not sure if it was because I was on a college campus for three days, or the fact that we are now within 3 weeks of their next birthday--but the clock seems to be ticking at an increasingly rapid pace.

Ten years more.

One decade.

God willing, it is all we have left before these little birdies are launched into the world.

It's nothing really.

I want to savor it and steward it.

And yet I don't want to be a clock watcher.

I want to live each moment without being so consumed in counting down that I miss it.

 

So tonight I climbed in beds and cuddled a little longer.

I sought to really listen to their stories and to speak words of blessing over each child.

 

Praising R's hard work on a Lego project and sincerely noting his maturity at dinner and the positive reports about his behavior in our absence.

Slowing down long enough to really read K's poetry, to brush her hair before bed and to look at her closely while tucking her in. (Which, honestly, she giggled was "a little awkward.")

Talking with (not just to) P about his recent complaints that he's tired of being told what to do and enjoying his realization that "Being a kid is actually pretty great. I don't have to worry about anything."

I walked back downstairs wondering again why it takes stepping away for me to grasp such simple truths.

God is writing a story in their lives...only He knows where it will take each of them. But this next decade is a chapter in which I am blessed to be a central character. As much as I would like to flip ahead to check on the outcome, I am called to be fully here, trusting Him for my direction. And for my impatient spirit that is HARD.

So I exhale. I whisper my thanks. I seek His wisdom and I pursue those little hearts while they are still entrusted to my care.