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School colors like black and gold Varsity cheerleaders Marching bands with trombones Or school colors like yellow and black Lines of school buses Bring excited August students back School colors like green and white Chalkboard and chalk Now Chromebooks and a mic School colors like Crayola in a pack All the colors of the rainbow Glue sticks, play-doh, and papers stacked School colors like pink and purple Little girls' hair bows and backpacks On their devices playing IXL & now Wordle School colors like navy and grey Quarterbacks and point guards Breaking records, making their way School colors like off-white and beige Tile floors and cement walls Janitors mopping, cafeteria workers wave School colors like baby blue and white Pep rallies and pom poms It's homecoming tonight! School colors like silver and black TURN THE LIGHT OFF!!!! BE QUIET!!!! HE'S GOT A GUN!!!! DON'T LOOK BACK!!!! DON'T MOVE- JUST BREATHE NO NOISE - WE NEED TO STAY QUIET, SO QUIET COUNT 1, 2, 3 DON'T CRY, IT'S OKAY YOU WANT YOUR MOMMY SWEETIE JUST STAY VERY STILL, SO VERY STILL I AM NOT SURE IF HE WILL COME TO OUR ROOM POW POW POW SCREAM SCREAM SCREAM NOW NOW NOW IT'S SO FAST, SO VERY FAST IT'S SO LOUD, SO VERY LOUD yet so quiet and so lonely am I frightened or just zoning out or am I in? is it over? did we win? no we lost and school colors are red for blood shed and white for those who died and black for the marks on our souls don't look back School Colors, School Colors I don't trust you anymore. I am hiding behind a bookshelf with America's children on the floor.
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Honors Day comes every May and with it comes some pain Pain for those who watch from afar Pain for those who were never the star and sometimes, a feeling unnamed This feeling of reeling from dealing with life and school and kids and daily strife There's work and marriage and laundry and dishes and unfulfilled goals, broken promises, forgotten wishes And all of a sudden we are all 16 again full of both awkwardness & confidence with our acne and our hormones watching the principal hold the microphone And we wait for our names to be called 1 2 3 and the teacher didn't call it they didn't pick me Pick me or my kid? What's going on in my head? Am I rejected for their rejection? Is this about me instead? Oh Honors Day, dread Honors Day I love you when you call my name I hate you when forget about me Wasn't I good enough? Don't you see? The joke is on us friends for life is its own Honors Day Your boss, your friend group they always pick who they want to stay We want to belong we want to matter to feel seen and heard But what I have just realized What I have finally learned Is that I throw my own Honors Day EVERY DAY for myself for my kids, for my spouse WE are the trophy, WE are the shelf I won plenty of ribbons and plaques and awards But they're somewhere in a box And now my family is my sword to keep fighting this fight we call life every day so when your lovely looks up to you disappointed from Honors Day just tell them, no SHOW them, about the true trophies in life Like kindness and empathy and perseverance. Hold that baby tight. Look right in their eyes and tell them YOU are their shelf. And no matter how good someone measures them to be, they are HELD. Don't push your sweet lovelies to climb to the top. Let them be who they will be. Let them stop if they need to stop. Honors Day comes every May and with it comes some pain just let it go on and do its thing. Don't let it determine the gain. Brought to you by a trophy-winning, plaque-possessing, still-trying-to-figure-it-out 16 year old stuck in a midlife body. Honors Day is just another day. Your sweet babies are the TROPHY. Please be a kind and loving SHELF. Godspeed. The following post is one mom's experience with autism. One family's experience. This author and I both understand that autism exists on a spectrum and this is just one example of the spectrum. What do I want you to know about autism? Since I am neuro-typical, I can only give you a mother’s perspective. So, last night, I asked my 15-year-old with autism what they want people to understand about autism. After a moment’s thought, they had two things to tell others. First, in their typical blunt manner, C said, “Autism is a spectrum, it doesn’t always look like a little 6-year-old boy who can’t control himself.” I thought this was a great point. Our autism story isn’t typical. My kid, born in a female body, wasn’t diagnosed until last year, when they were 14. (For the purposes of this post, I’m using gender neutral pronouns and the letter C for their name.) They’ve struggled with a number of things for years: reading was hard, paying attention in school was a disaster, building and maintaining relationships with “normal” peers was super challenging. The autism diagnosis was a sigh of relief for all of us. Finally, we had a name that encompassed a wide variety of things: social skills that were getting harder to manage in middle school, sensory issues that seemed to becoming more intense, and a hyper-fixation on a growing, rotating range of topics. Autism was not a negative diagnosis for us. It was an answer and in it, I found hope. It took years for me to start thinking about autism for my kid. To me, autism looked like one of two things: it was either the young boy whose autism made them unpredictable, a person with special needs, or it was the savant, again a boy, who could tell you everything you needed to know about his particular fascination. In fact, it was C who came to me and said, “Mom, I think I have autism.” In the next breath and typical fashion, “I’ve been doing some research.” My sweet kid, from the moment they were born, was never typical. They were happy and silly and the third born. They could be laughing one minute and asleep on your lap the next. C was cuddly and tender one moment, but at the next moment, trying some stunt that would make a mom’s heart stutter with nerves. They could listen to me read to them for long hours or play a silly made up game all afternoon, but could never concentrate long enough to finish math problems. We got an ADHD diagnosis when C was quite young. (That’s another thing C would want you to know: often Autism is misdiagnosed in females as ADHD because Autism presents differently in girls and practitioners don’t think females have autism.) And in that moment, an ADHD diagnosis was a tool—it gave our family a framework for understanding that our kid’s brain worked differently. We could accommodate their learning and home life to best suit their needs. C is smart, funny, talented, creative, and silly. Their diagnosis forced me, as a mom, to reframe the negative lens through which this is seen. I wasn’t going to let them think their ADHD was an affliction. Instead, ADHD was their superpower—they saw the world differently than I did. It’s just that the world isn’t really made for kids whose brains aren’t like everyone else’s. Everything fell apart in Middle School. Well, Middle school and a pandemic and online learning and adolescence. It was the perfect storm of horrible-ness. It has been a rocky couple of years for my kid (and me) as we’ve discovered the autism diagnosis and struggled mightily with mental health. (One more thing C would say, because they think of things at random times unrelated to anything else, is that because autism is diagnosed so late in girls, most girls with autism struggle with depression, anxiety and a sense of “who am I?” and “why can’t I be like everyone else?” An earlier diagnosis could help relieve some of that angst.) This is the first time I’ve ever put this story down in words. It feels rather momentous to do so. Yet, when I tell people in my orbit that C has autism, some are surprised, but for most, who know us, it just rolls off their back. “Huh,” they say and move on to something else. Because for them, as well as us, it’s just a way to define the way my kid is, the way they move and think and interact with the world. And someday, this culture will understand what a gift a brain like that is. I am convinced that someday C is going to change the world. Oh, and C wants everyone to know something else about autism: “Mom, make sure you say that moms who have kids with autism aren’t superheroes. They’re just moms. Like you.” C makes me laugh so hard I can’t breathe. They will share their saved memes with me for 30 minutes just to get some parental attention and then later lock themselves in their room and not want to talk to anyone. They challenge the way I think and expand my view of what success looks like in the world and teach me a gazillion things I never thought I would have to know. While I wish the world was an easier place for my sweet one, I would never, in a million years, change this part of who they are. And that is what I want you to know about autism. Sammy Beuker is a wife, mom, Youth Worker, friend, and writer who lives in Grand Rapids, Michigan. When she isn’t managing her complicated family life, she works with teenagers at her local church. You can find her and her newsletter at sammybeuker.com where you can follow along on her journey to publication or on IG @sammyanne_b where she posts about her life, writing, books, food, family, faith and her golden retriever, Monty. Thank you Sammy (and C!!!) for sharing your words with my readers. Thank you for having the courage to tell your story. This touched me! ❤️ -Amy at Taylored Intent If you are a mother, you know the feeling. You're at work instead of field day. You're at one child's band performance while the other child has an academic bowl meet. You missed that baseball practice out of sheer exhaustion and that's the one where he hit it over the fence. "Mom, can you pick me up car rider? Can you check me out early like all my friends? When are you going to be off work again? Mom, why are you on your laptop so much? Mom, are you listening?" Some of those innocent but real questions can cut me like a knife, leaving me gutted and riddled with GUILT. Mom Guilt. It's a thing. And I think we should talk about it. AND we certainly do not help ourselves as a gender or a community. Not only do our KIDS make us feel guilty, our fellow moms can inadvertently or purposefully trigger shame and guilt at any given moment. Pam made homemade Christmas cookies for the entire class while we can barely pack lunches each day. Trisha made Halloween goodie bags with a punny handmade tag using her Cricut. Allison sewed personalized pencil pouches for the entire third grade while we are struggling to sign each kid's agenda every night. Then there's social media. Be sure to only buy non-GMO Organic foods. Is your car seat in the top 3 for safety? How often is your child brushing their teeth? Gluten is the devil. ADHD is real - oh wait, no it's not - you're just a lazy parent. Discipline your kids. Don't discipline them, let them find their own way. All babies should cry it out. Babies who cry it out have attachment issues and end up in therapy before age 30. Limit that screen time. Make sure they play outside, but you must watch them outside AND still get all your paid-work done and maintain a spotless house with home-cooked meals. Cloth diapers. Breastfeeding. Well, if you work then store-bought baby food might be okay- but only if you work now. And don't forget to recycle. Make it stop. When my boys were 2, 4, and 12, I walked into my CEO's office and said "I quit. Other women are raising my children and I quit." I didn't have another job lined up. Fortunately, I had some savings, but that was mainly because I was working SO HARD and barely had my head above water that I never had time to shop or vacation (ie spend money). I was justifying myself to a man (my CEO) whose wife did not work and I "knew" he was coming home to beautifully home-cooked meals, a clean house, freshly washed and ironed clothes, and a wife who probably still had energy for sex instead of one who was collapsing into bed every night. OR SO I THOUGHT. He kindly and calmly asked me to take a deep breath, sit down, and reconsider. What about part time or PRN (the medical term for as needed)? Did I want to lose my 6-7 years of tenure with the company? Did I always want to stay home or did I just need a break? Did I still enjoy being a nurse practitioner? The truth was, I did not know the answers to his questions. I had ZERO plans, which goes against my basic core (search "plan" on this blog and you'll quickly see I plan everything). I had not asked myself if I enjoyed my work because I barely knew what day it was. I felt pulled in every direction by every person in my life and I was dreaming of ways to "get off the treadmill." My husband's lawn business was booming, and I was quickly running out of bandwidth to help him with that as well as my other demands at home and work. I felt like I was choking, but I wasn't sure WHAT was choking me the most. I just knew in my SOUL that I had to make a change. I prayed about it. I took a few days to write it all out - not my feelings - I had not found a therapist yet. 👀 Who had time for therapy? BUT, I did somehow remember some of my high school and college skills for decision making and scribbled down ALL the reasons that quitting my job would make me happier overnight. In the end, I heeded my younger-than-me CEO's advice and worked PRN the first year and part-time the second year before returning full-time when my youngest started pre-K. Since I am not independently wealthy, I did eventually have to bring home some more bacon. So, then what happened? Was my life immediately better once I was home more? Did the MOM GUILT end over night? Was I making beautifully home-cooked meals, providing freshly washed and ironed clothes, maintaining a perfectly clean house, and bursting with energy for sex every night since I no longer "worked" every day? Turns out, the joke was on me. Not really a joke though my friends. It's the truth. My 4 year old was in Pre-K, but my 2 year old was suddenly out of daycare. My 12 year old was in honors classes in middle school and I found myself juggling potty training, phonics, and puberty. 3 P's that should never go together. 😜 I was waking almost as early as I had been when I commuted to my demanding NP job. I was feeding kids, washing clothes, and picking up toys all day it seemed. I was helping with homework instead of paying my babysitter to do that. I was making brownies for the PTO instead of money for retirement. I was just as tired, but it was more of a physical tired than a mental exhaustion. I was able to go to the gym regularly, and THAT was amazing. Our gym had childcare, so I would tell the boys if they wanted a "nice mommy and not a mean mommy" then we would be going to the gym, thank you very much. I DID have more downtime. I laughed regularly. For the first time in YEARS. I WAS able to take and pickup my kids from school. I had never before and never since had that luxury. The pure joy of seeing my boys' faces when I picked them up each day was worth the frequent melt-downs when I had to wake the 2 year old to go pick up the 4 year old. (How do we do these things and no one discusses it?) I learned lyrics to Disney movies instead of new treatment guidelines for diabetes. I never took the kids to school in my pajamas, but I suddenly realized why so many women did. I dropped ALL judgment of other mothers, because I was IN THE TRENCHES. I missed adult conversation. I missed feeling important- there - I said it. I lost my temper, and I raised my voice on occasion. Sadly... and this really does make me sad... I simply had not been around my babies enough HOURS of the day to really, really lose my patience with them. Not until I was home. Cutting coupons. Cutting Play-doh with tiny plastic scissors. And realizing that THIS was the real work. THIS was the important work. And so I sit here tonight with tears in my eyes.
One launched and doing well. One in middle school with puberty and insecurity competing for his time. One who still lets me hug him in front of his friends. And I don't know much more than I did 8 years ago when I walked in my boss's office overwhelmed and undone. I'm still in awe of and in love with those 3 beautiful minds and faces that call me Mom. But guilt? Will I wallow in guilt when I reflect over my presence in their lives? Maybe on a bad day. Maybe for a minute or two when I have a "mom fail." BUT I BEG OF YOU. OF ALL OF US. TO MAKE IT STOP. WE ARE WARRIORS IN OUR OWN RIGHT. WE KISS THE BOO-BOOS AND SCARE AWAY THE MONSTERS. WE QUIZ THE SIGHT WORDS AND TIE THE LACES. WE FEED THEM SOMETHING SEVERAL TIMES A DAY, AND WE ENSURE THEY ARE CLOTHED. WE ARE DOING THE BEST WE CAN. WE ARE FLAWED BUT PHENOMENAL. WE ARE IMPERFECT BUT IRREPLACEABLE. WE ARE MOTHERS. LET US UNITE AND HOLD SPACE FOR ONE ANOTHER. Godspeed. I am the mother of THREE boys! Three boys who will all become young men with driver's licenses and whom will require car insurance. I predict they will be as busy as Husband and I were in high school between work and school activities, so I envision a used car lot in my driveway. Boys are EXPENSIVE to insure, and two of mine are only 20 months apart in age. That said, Mommy needed a gameplan for CARS (or trucks if you live in Georgia like we do). I knew that college savings needed to be different from a car fund, and I have always been a Dave Ramsey fan. I remembered Dave saying that he would match whatever his children saved for a vehicle, and I really liked that idea. I wasn't 100% sure what I was doing, but I wanted to have an account open to at least get started. I will lay out how I use the car fund system in our household. The boys have never known any differently than this, so it has worked well. If you are starting this with older children, there might be some mutiny and a learning curve at the beginning.
A few closing thoughts:
I hope you consider starting a car fund. You can even use these tips if you don't have children. Use them for yourself! All of us can benefit from these basic principles. Happy Saving and Godspeed. I started these accounts for my boys when Braden was a baby, Jake was 2, and Cameron was 10. This just shows I practice what I preach and it has worked well for our family. Best of luck as you save for your kiddos! Less Stress is Always Best!!! How to be the most productive on your day off (when you have to run errands): 10 Pro Tips!8/11/2021
We have all been there. We have an unexpected day off and we try to cram 497,632 things to do in that one day. That day comes and goes like the wind and maybe only two things were accomplished. We feel like a failure, and we decide we are a lazy blob of a human. None of this is true.
Here are 10 pro tips when running errands and being productive on your day off:
Let's take a deep dive into each of these pro tips.
I encourage you to try these on your next day off and share your success stories (or epic fails- we can laugh or cry with you) in the comments below. Please know that I still have wasted days off, and that's okay! I'm learning in my forties that some days are meant to be wasted. (insert sunshine, beach music, and a cool breeze here)
First of all- this morning was a disaster, so I thought this might be a good topic for a blog post. Since my oldest is now 19 and out of the house, I cannot claim to be a novice at getting children out the door. My youngest is now in fourth grade, so again I should be good at this.
I learned many years ago that mornings and evenings with children can make or break any parent's heart. All kids out the door with teeth brushed, hair combed, deodorant on, lunch in hand, and backpacks on equals home run, grand slam, touchdown. If either or both parent makes it out the door with work lunch, work bag, clothes, jewelry, watch, phone, brain cells, positive attitude, AND shoes--- well you might as well say we have won the lottery. The secret to these success stories (which let’s be honest are few and far between for most of us) is having a morning and an evening routine. I know, I know, everyone and their mother, brother, sister, aunt, uncle, cousin is online touting about elaborate morning and evening routines that are super unrealistic for a single person much less for a family with multiple children. My goal in writing this article is to tell you the absolute truth: the cold, hard, ugly, sometimes-hilarious, often meltdown-provoking truth. The truth is that getting kids out the door is hard. It also takes practice and patience. The following tips will help you get your kids out the door:
The 15 minute buffer: Parents and kids alike need a 15 minute buffer every morning. This is a fact, and I’m not sure why it is true, but it is true. If everyone needs to leave by 7:15 AM , we ALL need to mentally think 7 AM. Allowing that 15 minute buffer reduces anxiety, rushing, attitudes, and raised voices. I personally use the 15 minute buffer always on all days just to reduce my own anxiety since being late provokes panic for me. Have a dedicated spot for backpacks, shoes, and lunchboxes: All five members of our household have always taken their lunch to work or school. This saves money and is better for our physical health. We have a dedicated spot for lunchboxes so that packing lunches is easier. I asked my husband to install hooks in our hallway between the garage and laundry room for backpacks since the layout of our house does not lend itself to a mud room or drop off bench area. The backpack / hoodie hooks have been a game changer in our household. Similarly, shoes are deposited in a designated space as we enter our home. This prevents all the “where are my shoes!?!“ screams in the mornings. When the kids get off the bus or my husband and I get home from work, things aren’t strewn across the kitchen. They go where they belong. Use a timer: I use a the timer on my watch for several things every single morning.
Set expectations ahead of time: My kids know that their homework must be done before bed and not the morning of school. Unless we have a late ballgame or rehearsal and they are just exhausted, they know that they are not allowed to do homework in the morning. This prevents any last minute “mom I have to do this worksheet real quick“ debacles that can derail any smooth morning. My children also know that they eat breakfast at home at the table every morning, and they must allow time to eat in their schedule. They will not be eating a pop tart or breakfast bar on the bus. Whatever expectations you have for your family, I encourage you to make those known well ahead of time and be consistent. Consistency is key. Remain calm: This tip is probably the most important tip but also the most comical in my opinion. I can definitely say this is the hardest one for me to follow. While I am naturally a morning person and usually a calm person, my aforementioned anxiety that stems from being late causes me to get easily flustered if the kids go off the rails. It never fails that the dog won’t go outside or the milk gets spilled or the backpack won’t unzip or mom forgot the applesauce on the click list. These things happen. Since we have the 15 minute buffer, it is best to remain calm and take a few deep breaths before unloading every thought and frustration onto our children. We love our children and our spouse and our dog. Repeat that three times LOL. Weekly habits that make daily routines flow smoothly:
Check schedules every night: I have used a planner my entire life. I am a planning guru. However, when work is crazy and kids' schedules are busy and homework abounds, I sometimes forget to look at my planner. This is never good. Whether you use a digital or a paper planner, it is easy to dismiss a digital reminder or leave a beautifully decorated planner unopened. Check the planner. Check it again. Every night. Charge all the things:
Morning routine for parents:
Evening routine for parents:
Early morning in a hotel room in Birmingham, AL and it’s already scorching outside. The boys are asleep, but I’m still basking in the glory of seeing an old friend last night. We picked up as if we were just sitting next to each other in AP English, but in reality, it has been TEN years since I’ve seen her face and hugged her tightly.
With social media, one can “feel” like we know what’s going on in each other’s lives, but nothing replaces uninterrupted conversation and rehashing old memories. When you’re 45 and you see someone who knew you at 11 in that awkward braces-for-her, round-thick-glasses-for-me phase, any ego or feeling of adultness goes out the window. We saw each other’s hearts get broken and dreams get lived out. I twirled a flag in a band she led onto the field, and she had to witness all my annoying academic dominance in high school. Can you believe she actually apologized for something she said that was cruel to me 30 years ago? She is one of the most beautiful loving souls I have ever known! Her faith and love for God has always brought me to her like a moth to a flame; she has been a safe space for me to express my faith. Why do we all hold onto old garbage? I do it too! We all do. This time our conversation covered motherhood, marriage, aging parents, losing parents, our nursing careers, and each of our unwanted entrances into the world of rheumatology. Just like in high school, we laughed and smiled about our daily quest to do the best we can and survive the icky parts of relationships, parenting, and work. Both a little wiser, and me definitely a lot humbler (her too, I’m sure), it was refreshing to be REAL for a few hours with my friend who saw me with 2” high bangs and overalls with one strap unbuttoned. You can’t lie to a friend who has seen all that. |