Tag: motherhood

Of Toilets and Tornadoes

Of Toilets and Tornadoes

Last week Missouri held a special severe weather test day and sirens blared in sync across the state. There is a notification tower next to my son’s school and he has commented that the sirens are super loud during normal weekly tests, but this was a surprise drill, so I thought it might catch the kids off guard. When I picked up my tornado-skittish son from school that afternoon, I offhandedly asked him if that day’s siren was loud. I thought the extra warning may have startled him a bit because the entire school did the full-press severe weather run-through. I didn’t expect the response he gave, but we both laughed so hard that I had to share.

Clutter Begone:  40 Bags in 40 Days

Clutter Begone: 40 Bags in 40 Days

40 bagsToday is the first day of Lent, which consists of 40 days leading up to Good Friday and Easter. People “celebrate” this time of sacrifice by letting go of something they value, improving upon an aspect of life or, as is my case this year, getting rid of 40 bags of clutter that is weighing down my house and weighing down my life.

Forty bags. That’s one bag or box of clutter for each day of Lent. It’s such a simple idea, but one that can make such a difference in your family’s life. This concept comes from Marie at White House Black Shutters, and she rallies the masses for this project each and every year. I started this challenge several years ago, but didn’t make it to the finish line (for whatever reason), but this year I am determined to meet my goal.

White House Black Shutters provides so many ways to achieve your decluttering goal like Facebook groups, free printables, tips, tricks, hashtags and access to a complete community of folks trying to achieve a similar goal. If you’re interesting in trashing, donating or recycling 40 entire bags (or boxes) of stuff you just don’t need in your home or life anymore, I urge to visit the 40 Bags in 40 Days challenge site and get started today.

When Your Child is Not Your Child

When Your Child is Not Your Child

photo credit: *¦·twinderella·¦* Believe in Fairies via photopin (license)

I absolutely love it when I catch a glimpse of my child. . . well, not being my child. It sounds harsh, but I bet you mamas know of what I speak. At home my six-year-old son burps at the table and laughs, he ignores instruction on a whim, “please” and” thank you” are apparently optional and an occasional meltdown for no apparent reason is deemed normal. So imagine my delight when his “other self” appears, usually in public, and he becomes the dearest, most considerate, polite and helpful child you have ever seen. What? It’s on these occasions that I realize, contrary to my popular parenting belief, that my child actually is soaking up some of what I say and do. *gasp*

I love to see my little man say “excuse me,” as he makes his way across a crowded room, or say “thank you” when a child shares his toy, and all this without my mama prompts. Nothing warms my heart more than when I see my son befriend the one kid in the room that no one cares to play with — yup, that will usually be my guy. Now that will put a smile on a mother’s face!

mamaquoteJust this week at church dinner, I asked my son to eat more of his chicken casserole, but instead he ate a green bean (and he doesn’t even like green beans). A few minutes later, he whispered in my ear that he didn’t like the casserole because it was too mushy and that he really didn’t want to eat it. Okay, so on the surface it sounded a little shady, but what his young little brain understood was that the lady who made the meal that evening was sitting right on the other side of me and he didn’t want to hurt her feelings. I was completely touched that he got it! He got the lessons I’ve been pushing for six years, he got the idea of sparing the feelings of others and he got the craft of being subtle. Eureka!

Okay now, this is where it got really weird. Long after he went his way and people were putting away the tables and chairs, my son returned and began folding up chairs (they are as big as he is) and carrying them to the rolling cart. He continued, one at a time, until every last chair was nestled away and he even enjoyed the whole event. Now granted, his favorite playmate wasn’t at church that evening, but still. Honestly, I felt his head for a fever and was slightly surprised when I found none.

So here’s a word of encouragement for you mamas of little ones. Don’t despair; don’t give up. Keep plugging away at those lessons of politeness, caring and social graces. My child has come a long way from blurting out every little thought that pops in his head, and although he isn’t usually on his best behavior at home (and that concept simply just slays me) our words and actions are sinking into their precious little heads — for better or for worse.

 photo credit: *¦·twinderella·¦* Believe in Fairies via photopin (license)

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