MarytheKaytheBlog

My Baby Girl is a Teenager Today!

Okay, not technically my baby girl...  But, she was my baby girl just 14 years ago.  And, oh, what a sweet and dreamy baby she was.  My little (or not so little!) fuzzy blond-haired baby girl.

Happy 13th birthday, my Becca Boo!  You are a delight, and a treasure to our family!  In honor of your birthday today...

10 Things We LOVE About You:

1.  You have a kind heart, and your smile lights up the room!

2.  You love Jesus, and want to please Him.

3.  You make us laugh every single day.

4.  You care deeply about others, and are always encouraging them.

5.  You love spending time with your grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins.

6.  You have an amazing memory.  Sometimes, it even freaks us out your memory is so good.  

7.  You do GREAT impersonations.  (See #3 above)

8.  You're humble, and you never expect too much.

9.  You have a grateful heart.

10.  You are a wonderful big sister...even when you don't feel like being wonderful.  :-)

    

Happy birthday, our sweet girl!  We love you with all of our hearts, and are GRATEFUL that God chose us to be your parents!

I am a terrible, terrible person...

I'm sure I've fussed on here before about my daughter that is a picky eater, a picky dresser, picky about the pillowcase and blankets she uses, picky about her toothpaste and toothbrush...  Basically, she's a girl who knows what she likes, and sticks to it.  (I mean STICKS to it.)

What I'm NOT sure if I've mentioned on here before...is about where my daughter gets her picky nature.

Or, perhaps I should call it, "Her discerning taste."  That sounds better, doesn't it?

Especially, in light of what I am about to show you.

I've been slow to realize where my daughter gets her "discerning nature."  I think the first time I really noticed was when she started stealing the pillow off my bed.  She said my pillow was much softer than hers.  I'd have to go check her bed when I was ready to lie down, and try to ease her little head off my pillow, without waking her up.

I mean, a mama needs to have her own pillow, right?  She had her own pillow, and even though it was different than mine, I felt like it was plenty soft.  Plus, I was kind of attached to my pillow.  It was just the perfect size, and, well, it was really soft. 

Well...discerning child felt my sky blue pillowcase was much softer than her pink daisy one.  And...I didn't want to trade pillows.  I could tell you that it was because the blue pillow matched our bedroom, and the pink daisy one did not.  But, to be honest, I just didn't want to trade...because the blue one was...softer!!!

(Are you noticing a theme here?)

Finally, after too many nights of this musical pillow game, my brilliant husband suggested we take discerning daughter to the store, and let her pick out the very softest pillowcases she could find.  And buy 4 of them!  She could have 1, and so could her mama!  Plus, a couple extra.

Perfect.  Problem solved.  

Two picky (discerning) people are satisfied, and everybody has a soft pillow.

Right?

Well...this morning after getting out of bed, I noticed something.  It made me giggle, and feel TERRIBLE all at the same time.

And I did what all good bloggers did:  I took a picture!

But first!  Let me preface this picture to say...I have been sick with the flu this week.  I've felt terrible, and have slept terribly!!

At least I HOPE this is not what our bed would look like on a normal day...

Can you guess which side is the "discerning mama" side?

THREE pillows to help elevate her congested head, and ONE pillow to prop under her FEET.  Do the math, people--that equals FOUR soft pillows...

And 2 folded-up towels for her poor, poor husband.

I am a terrible, pillow-hogging person!!

(Yeah, and I steal the covers, too.)

What about you?  Do you steal covers and soft pillows?

Celebrating Sara Beth's 8 years!

Please excuse me while I get all sentimental about my baby girl's birthday.  Today marks her--and my own!--8th year of smiles, giggles, snuggles, learning, questioning, being stretched, crying, encouraging, praising, disciplining, and always--ALWAYS praying.

Sweet Sara Beth has been an answer to our prayers.  Another baby girl to complete our little family of 4.  She is the one who introduced that sweet-as-honey word into our family:  Sister.

She has stretched me as a mother in ways I never imagined.  She has made me stronger, and yet more sensitive, and daily keeps me on my toes to be consistent, fair, and with encyclopedic knowledge to answer hundreds of questions.  She has also taught me the important lesson that some battles are not mine to win.  Sometimes, they are not battles at all--rather opportunities for her to stretch her independence, identity, and strength of will.

And she has taught me about love.  It's so easy to love my cuddly, snuggly baby girl!  Our little gift-giver is always watching and listening...for ways to surprise us (folding clothes on our bed when she should be in her own bed, asleep!)...and to pamper us (with spa treatments and back rubs!)...and just always looking for ways to show her overflowing love.

So, happy birthday, sweet girl!  Forever our pun'kin pie and snuggle bug!  Our smart and funny girl who keeps us giggling.

Thanks for being our baby girl.  Thanks for being YOU.

Do you have any fun Sara Beth stories or memories to add?  I'd love for her to read these some day!!  Thanks!!!   *smile*

Sometimes, simple actions are so much better than words...

Recently, one of our daughters had a tough day--emotionally.  It's not easy being a girl. Especially a girl with a tender heart.

As my daughter was pouring out her heart to me, I found myself saying things like, "Oh, honey, I think you are AMAZING."  "You have so many talents, and are so FUN to be around!"  

Even as all of those encouraging, affirming words were coming out of my mouth, I knew.

I knew my words wouldn't be enough.  They were not going to mend her hurting heart.

But, the fierce mama bear in me just wanted to FIX IT.  To help her see with my wiser adult eyes how these difficult times will soon pass, and how she will be so much better and stronger and more caring of others' hearts because of it.

Thankfully, oh so thankfully, I silently sent up a quick prayer for God to give me wisdom.  

And He did.

I closed my mouth, and stopped trying to fix my daughter's hurt with words.

Instead, I pulled back the covers on my bed, and had her scoot in next to me.  We pulled the covers  up to our chins, settled back against the pillows, and turned on an episode of DC Cupcakes.  The show wasn't anything special--it was just a way to snuggle next to my girl.

Because sometimes, words aren't going to fix the hurts.  Sometimes, a girl just needs someone to snuggle up next to her.  Sometimes, she just needs her mama's shoulder to rest on.  

Sometimes, she needs her mama just to be there.

 

I'd love to know...How did your mom help you best during difficult times growing up?

"So also you have sorrow now, but I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you."       -John 16:22

photo credit

Her Very First Day in Public School

7 years ago, a little fair-haired girl in white velcro Keds, and the cutest pigtails you've ever seen, started school.  But, that day, she sat at our dining table--legs dangling--and I sat next to her, teaching her how to hold a pencil, and write her name, and line up plastic butterflies for counting.  That day, we snuggled on the couch and read a book together, and took turns eating M&Ms for correct answers.

Today, she puts on skinny jeans and a t-shirt, and sparkly Tom's shoes, and wears her fair hair down, straightened, and looking much older than she should.  Today, she gathers her backpack and clarinet, and rushes out the door, nervous and excited.  Mostly nervous. Today, she sits in a classroom, and another teacher gets to see the sparkle in her eyes as she "gets" the new concepts.  Today, she prays that friends will want to sit by her in class, and in the lunch room, and that her mom doesn't make her wait too long at pick-up.

Today, my girl--my sweet, smart, beautiful, crazy funny, and creative soul--spreads her wings a little wider.  

It's a bittersweet day for her mama.  I'm nudging my reluctant girl to the edge of the nest a bit.  My heart hurts for her insecurities and anxiety.  But, I know this is right.  This is the right time, and the right place.

And I know she is going to spread those beautiful wings, those tentative and lovely wings, and she will fly.  

Image credit

Moms Judging Other Moms

Several years ago, I made a snap judgement.  I judged a mom's decision about her daughter, and thought to myself, "I would never let my little girl do that!  I wonder WHY she lets her daughter?"

And now, that snap judgment has come back to haunt me.

 

I don't even know why I remember that particular moment so well.  Surely I've made other snap judgments through the years.  But for some reason, I remember that judgement--I remember exactly where I was standing, and what I was thinking on that day 11 years ago...

Our family was staying with some friends in their lovely home.  Our Rebecca was having a wonderful time toddling around after all the older kids.  She especially was following around their daughter, a sweet 7-year-old, who seemed practically grown to the adoring 2-year-old.  Rebecca was in heaven, playing with the older girl's American Girl dolls and extensive Barbie collection.  The two of them danced around the house in princess and fairy costumes, and had tea parties with a miniature set of china.

When the parents started getting dinner ready, the girls were winding down their playing.  The 7-year-old went into her parents' room and turned on the television to the Disney channel.  Of course, Rebecca followed her friend, and scooted right next to her in front of the t.v.  As I passed by the room, I saw the older girl explaining all about how Hannah Montana wears a wig and is a huge rock star.  I'm not even sure Rebecca understood what was going on--she was just thrilled to be watching "what the big girls watch."

In my head, I was saying rather loudly, "NO NO NO NOOOO!!!!  My baby girl's too young for thissss!!!"

But, in my big girl adult voice, I quietly leaned down, took Rebecca by the hand, and asked her friend, "Sweetie, does your mom let you watch this teenager show?"

Not taking her eyes off Hannah Montana, she said, "Oh sure!  I watch ALL the Disney shows!  I really love the Cheetah Girls--they're on next!  They are SO awesome!"

I quietly walked Rebecca out of the room, telling her, "Sweet girl, we don't watch teenager shows!  Those kind of shows are for TEENAGERS."

I remember saying those words to Rebecca.  I even remember how the television flickered onto the girls' faces in the darkened master bedroom.  I remember the happy way the friend had bubbled on about the Cheetah Girls.

And I remember judging that other mama.

Why in the world would she let her little 7-year-old daughter watch a show ABOUT teenagers MADE FOR teenagers?

For a long time, I stuck to that rule.  Even now, it certainly makes good sense to me:  Children should watch shows about children their own age--and not shows about kids older than them.  

And then.

Well, and then my little 2-year-old daughter became a 12-year-old preteen, about to enter junior high and the youth group at church.  And she now has a 7-year-old little sister who wants to do all the big girl stuff right alongside her sister.

And...well...life happens.  Life happens, and perfection isn't always an option.  Or more specifically, perfection isn't always an option this frazzled mom even strives for anymore.

Here's the honest truth:  My 7-year-old daughter now watches all the shows on the Disney channel.  Yes, teenage shows.  Yes, even some with sassy-talking teenagers.

I think back to that day 11 years ago, when I made a snap judgement of that mama.  I think about it when my girls have friends over.  I think about it especially when Sara Beth is telling her friends all about her favorite Disney shows, and even shows them--*gasp*--her Justin Bieber poster.

I wonder what her friends' moms must think of me... I'm SURE they wonder WHY I let my 7-year-old watch shows about TEENAGERS.  

I guess they'll figure out real quick that I'm not perfect.

I wasn't 11 years ago, and I'm not now, either.

But, I'll take imperfect over judgemental any ole day.

How about you?

 

For the whole law is fulfilled in one word: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”      -Galatians 5:14

Sometimes, the answer really is...obvious

Hanging out with my family on the boat the other day, I was reminded of a parenting truth I had to learn the hard way...

Even though kids don't come with instruction manuals (dangit), sometimes the answer is obvious.

Here's how I first learned this truth...the hard way...

 

Several years ago, when our youngest was about 2-years-old, there were several nights in a row that she was scared at bedtime.  Well, to be completely honest, we weren't sure if she was really scared--or if she had just figured out a new bedtime-postponing tactic.  She's a smart one, she is.  However, since we'd just moved out to our camp cabin for the summer, we figured she was having a difficult time adjusting to a new sleeping environment.

Because, over and over again at bedtime, she kept looking over at her bookshelf area, and saying, "No wike scawy eyes!  Scawy eyes mean!"

We'd take turns consoling her, holding her and telling her in a reassuring voice, "Sweetie, there are no scary eyes looking at you.  There's nothing scary in your room.  You are safe here with Mommy and Daddy.  Now, lie back down and go to sleep."  We'd go to that corner of the room and show her every stuffed animal that was in her toy box, and show her that it had sweet eyes.  We'd reassure her until we were exhausted.

But, this is our child who doesn't give up easily.  And that's putting it mildly.

So, for several nights, for a LONG time each night, we would reassure her that there was NOTHING scary in her room.

 And, still, she would look towards the bookshelves and tell us emphatically, "NO. WIKE. SCAWY. EYES."

I think in her limited 2-year-old language she was trying to say, "Hey, people: LISTEN TO ME.  I AM TELLING YOU THERE ARE SCARY EYES LOOKING AT ME THAT I DO NOT LIKE.  YOU ARE THE ADULTS--PLEASE TAKE CARE OF IT.  And also, I'd like some more candy from the snack jar, please."

Finally, after exhausting EVERY reassuring phrase I could possibly think of, I picked up my child, carried her across the room and flipped on the light.  Standing near the bookshelf, I said (umm, maybe in a slightly exasperated voice) "WHERE are the scary eyes, Sara Beth?  POINT to what you are talking about!"

And that sweet baby girl pointed towards the top shelf of the bookshelf--way up near the ceiling where her daddy stores some extra summer camp supplies.  

And guess what?  There were a stack of rolled up orange boat flags, with just the corner of one hanging down a little bit.  All that was really showing was the corner of the flag...with the company's logo...

Here--I'll show you:

Oh.  My.  Wow.  My sweet baby girl was right.  There WERE scawy eyes looking down at her each night.

My precious little girl had TRIED to tell me each night that she was scared of the creepy little logo man peering down at her.  And her DUMB MOM kept telling her over and over again to go to sleep, that the scary eyes didn't exist.

Sara Beth's big tall daddy took those mean ole scawy-eyed flags and GOT RID OF THEM forever and ever, amen.  

Never again will scary eyes peer down on my baby girl in our camp cabin again.

And...hopefully...never again will her mama ignore the obvious.

Sometimes doing the hard thing is...really hard

One of the hardest things I do as a parent is:  Making my kids do hard things.

Do you know what I'm talking about?

Making my kids finish something they've started--even when they beg, cry, pout, get sick, get a headache, are exhausted, and beg some more.  Wanting them to finish strong, so they don't learn to be a quitter.

I'm talking about when my kids beg me at the beginning of the year to take certain classes or play certain sports...and by the middle of the year are BEGGING to quit.  And when begging doesn't work, and their parents tell them they have to finish out the year, they move on to bigger and better tactics--like claiming headaches, exhaustion, and (SHH!  Don't tell them this) the one that works the BEST on a tender-hearted mama: "Mom, don't you sometimes just need a little break from something?"

In the past couple of months, a certain class has become DREADED at our house.  This was a class my daughter has always wanted to take, has dreamed of taking.  She was exhilarated at the beginning of the year finally to be able to sign up for the class.  But, it didn't take long for the class to become difficult.  I watch this class, and I see.  It really IS difficult.  I can see--weekly--how it challenges my daughter.  It challenges her not only physically, but mentally. 

And the most difficult thing of all for this tender-hearted mama?  I can see how it challenges her emotionally.

Every. Single. Week. we have a pep-talk before the class.  I tell her that I know she can do it.  I tell her that she is strong, and can face hard things and DO them.  I remind her how much she wanted to take this class.  I also remind her how some weeks she has a good time with her friends there.  I tell her that I'm proud of her for finishing the class.  I try really hard to be a good empathetic listener as she tells me--weekly--how hard the class is, and how MUCH she doesn't want to go.  I tenderly smooth back her hair when the tears roll down her cheeks.   

But, I must admit to you.  It is really HARD as a parent to see my sweet daughter struggle so hard to quit something...and have to look into her eyes, and tell her, "Sweetie, I love you.  Because I love you, I want you to finish out this class.  You ARE going today.  Now, please go get ready."

I want to tell my daughter that she is not the only one doing a hard thing.

Sometimes, her mama really wants a break, too.

Weekend Adventures: Mary Poppins, Kids' Musical, and Running!

 I know I'm a day late and a dollar short on my weekend post here...but my bed was calling my name last night, and I obeyed.  May I just say that a good night of rest can do AMAZING things to a girl's day.  I woke up feeling so rested, and so ready to tackle today!  Note to self:  I need to get good rest more often.

We had a full weekend of fun adventures.  However, it didn't feel rushed and busy--it was just the perfect amount of fun adventures, and laid back weekend time.  I wish all weekends were that way.

We started off with a very fun 5K run--Run Like a Kid--benefiting Kids Across America Kamps.  It was organized by a friend of mine, and she did SUCH a great job on this inaugural event.  I sure hope she makes it annual.  It was a small race this year--which was so fun because we all knew each other.  Little secret here:  (shh!  don't tell!)  Knowing so many people also made me RUN FASTER...'cause you know...don't want anyone thinking I'm a slacker.

No, I'm not going to tell you my time.  I will tell you that I shaved 10 MINUTES off my last (and first) 5K.  However, I'm still slow.  I may start running a few bursts now and then to increase my speed just a bit.  That way, I won't be at the BACK of all the runners.

Sara Beth wanted to run, and ran the first half of the 5k.  I was so proud of her!!  Rebecca and a couple of her friends were asked to sing and dance--and I was equally proud of her, too!

After the 5K, all the kids gathered for a 1-mile fun run.  I LOVE living in a small town, where my kids can join in activities like this, and know half the kids.

 

Saturday night my friend Janna sent out a couple of Evites to celebrate her 37 1/3 birthday with dinner and a movie.  Dang--I forgot to give her 1/3 of a birthday present...  We sure did laugh a lot!  I love these girls!!!

Yeah, evidently, I did not get the  memo to wear black and grey...

Sunday morning, our girls participated in our church choir's Amazing Grace Race musical.  It really was a darling performance.  Rebecca sang such a beautiful solo!  All the kids sang beautifully--even down to the youngest soloist, little Leah!  So darling!!  It's neat watching these kids grow up, and hearing their voices mature through the years.

 

Right after the choir performance, we hopped in my mom's car and headed to Fayetteville.  My mom had given us tickets at Christmas to see the Broadway musical Mary Poppins.

We all agreed--Mary Poppins was one of the BEST musicals any of us have ever seen!!!  I would compare the quality of it to The Lion King.   

I can't imagine trying to write a stage musical to rival Disney's movie version of Mary Poppins.  The movie is pure magic.  I mean, how do you top Dick Van Dyke and Julie Andrews?  However, the musical was smart to be a little different than the movie (maybe it's more true to the book??), because the whimsy and "magic" in the set design, and the dazzling choreography kept delighting the audience as each scene unfolded. 

I love that "Nana" took her granddaughters to the musical, just like her mom, my Grammy, took my sister and me to our very first Broadway musical--Peter Pan (with Sandy Duncan).   I hope our daughters tuck away special memories like this into their hearts, just like I did as a young girl...in my black patent shoes dangling from the red velvet theater seat...

 

Sunday night, I could barely keep my eyes open after all the weekend adventures.  I sure hope your weekend was full of adventure, too.

What's your favorite musical / or musical memory?

Am I passionate about my job?

This magazine came in the mail the other day.  As soon as I saw the headline, I stopped dead in my tracks:

Am I passionate about my work?

You mean--my work here at home?

My job as a (dare I say it???) housewife, mom, and homeschool teacher?

"Well, of course I'm passionate about my job!"  I say

I nodded my head, and walked around my house, I mean my workplace...

Why, JUST LOOK at all of my job perks!

(Also, don't forget how FANCY my workplace is...)

So, yes.

Yes, I am *passionate* about my job.

Although..."passionate" may not be the most accurate choice of words...

What do you think?

Are you *passionate* about your job?

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