Tag: #kids

What sparks a memory…

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The picture above is of “pie crust things.” Something delicious that never got a proper name. When my mom baked pies, she would cut off the outer edges, place them on a cookie sheet and sprinkle with sugar & cinnamon. I loved the pies but I looked forward to this tasty treat just as much. It was also a good way to see if your crust was going to be good- kind of like a preview. I vividly remember talking with someone about the pie crust things and they looked at me like I was from Mars. I instantly realized this was not something everyone did. I clammed up, thinking my experience was wrong instead of just different. Most people throw that part away I guess? I can’t imagine.

There is something about these pie crust things that make me think about my childhood. I love the way the house smells when a pie is in the oven. I love the flaky tender pie crust, still warm on the cookie sheet. I remember my dad saying, “This is the best apple pie I’ve had all month” (or insert time frame since the last one.) It’s amazing to me how food can bring back a flood of emotions. Perhaps that’s why I struggle so much with my food relationship. There are certain things I don’t want to let go of. Some things that bring up strong memories:

  • BBBats candy reminds me of being “good” at the doctor or dentist and getting a treat.
  • Blue raspberry popsicles remind me of summer in general.
  • Chick-o-stick candy reminds me of the swimming pool concession stand and of my sister, since this was one of her favorites.
  • Kuchen makes me think of my mom’s side of the family and their great treats.
  • Ginger snaps remind me of my dad’s mom and the tiny cookies she would make at Christmas.
  • Duck with orange sauce reminds me of family birthday dinners at home. I don’t think we went out to eat for birthdays, but we could pick our meal at home.
  • Red velvet cake reminds me of my childhood friend whose mother would make it for her birthday every year.
  • Circle cinnamon crimp bread make me think of a treat from the grocery store.

Clearly, I don’t have this food relationship thing figured out yet. Also, there are some things that you think you love, only to find out it’s not the same. This happened recently with brats from our old grocery store. We remembered them being our favorite. We had them recently & we both agreed they were “ok.” Our memory of them was a higher standard than the real thing.

Perhaps it’s more of a harmony/balance type thing – small amounts that bring those comforting memories, without over-doing it. I’m not sure. If you’re on a journey of self acceptance, change and balance all in one, I’m there with you. I wish you peace on your journey of enough. Oh, and if you’ve never tried the pie crust thing, give it a try. It’s a game changer!

Empty Nest?

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This is a baby sparrow. It fell out of the nest in an evergreen tree behind our house. The little ball of fluff sat motionless in the grass. Somehow, our son noticed it before the cat did. When we got close it it, the mom freaked out. She chirped loudly and tried to fly at my head. She knew her baby wasn’t ready to fly on its own yet, but she couldn’t lift it back to the nest. She brought food to it and tried to make noise to scare off any danger. Empty nest… we refer to people as “empty nesters” when their kids(s) leave home. I feel like sometimes we can be like that momma bird, wanting to protect and shelter our young. 18 years can seem like forever when you’re the kid, but it’s a blink of the eye for the parents.

I have one more year with both boys still “in the nest.” A year from now, I will have had a graduation. This year, graduations looked different. Empty nests became full again. Plans changed, and were revised, and changed again. We have no idea what the coming school year will look like. Some nests will remain full and some will empty again. Letting go is difficult. I’m not ready to, but I know it’s important. Hold on too tight & they will go wild when they’re on their own. Lack of structure isn’t good either though. Responsibilities and consequences are important too.

For now, I will soak it up like a sponge, but still let them experience life. Sometimes I really do feel like I’m in the middle of a teeter totter, trying to keep my balance. Someone once told me they prefer the word “harmony” instead of “balance.” Harmony sounds so much smoother and musical and peaceful. Balance makes me think of the teeter totter. Are you old enough to remember getting the wind knocked out of you when someone jumped off? I am. Let’s focus on harmony instead.

Peace be with you on your journey of enough. Whether you’re an empty nester, have a full nest, or somewhere in between, I hope you stay connected to those you love. We’ve had to get more creative, learn new technologies (Zoom) and even go back to some old ways (letter writing.) Stay safe, stay healthy. You are enough.

Victory gardens, what are you planting?…

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“Victory gardens, also called war gardens or food gardens for defense, were vegetable, fruit, and herb gardens planted at private residences and public parks in the United States, United Kingdom, Canada, Australia and Germany during World War I and World War II.” Wikipedia. This was done to prevent food shortages and ease the supply chain. With COVID19, several people have started gardens in 2020. Wether it was out of boredom or to be able to have their own food, the number of gardens is on the rise. This is evident by the lack of seeds and gardening supplies in town.

Our own garden is much larger this year, but that’s because we will take our produce to the Farmer’s Market and sell locally. A friend shared some thoughts with me about gardening. These seemed appropriate, given the recent events.

“Whenever I plant a garden, (literally or figuratively) I hope to look forward to the results of the seeds I’ve planted. If I sow kindness, I hope to reap more kindness. If I plant squash, I don’t expect watermelon. Judgements are the weeds of the garden. They can choke out all that we really want. So today I will live without judgement and focus on what I am planting.”

Powerful words. We can’t plant squash and expect watermelon. We can’t plant hate and expect kindness. And the weeds… if you’ve had a garden, you know that the weeds are a never ending battle. They compete with our crops for food, water, attention. Judgement does the same thing. It can try to choke out our crops, try to grow taller than our plants and take over the whole garden if we don’t do the work. The work to get rid of the weeds, keep them under control and let the other plants flourish takes time. It takes effort.

This is me weeding my garden. I wasn’t going to post the picture because it is not flattering, but it ties into the post well. When I was weeding my garden, I thought of my mom. The countless hours she spent just like this, with an elbow on her knee, bent down weeding with her garden shoes. We had 2 garden spots on our farm. They were my mom’s hobby. Looking back on it, I think she enjoyed the peace and quiet. She could see the difference made and knew the importance of keeping the garden clean.

She was (and is) an example of keeping the judgement weeds out of your garden also. My mom gave to others whenever she could. Even when we had little, she found ways to bless others. A listening ear, a kind smile, a baked treat or a hand written note… she was a quiet example for me and my sisters. During all of the turmoil this year, our kids are watching. They are watching our actions. Are we weeding out judgement? Are we tending our own gardens?

I wish you peace on your journey of enough. I hope my garden is plentiful this year, and the weeds are few. Take care & God bless.

Baby step…

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This was the view from my floating raft Monday night. The sun beams peeked through the clouds as we floated down the river. The clouds gave a reprieve from the 92 degree day. The cool, clear water felt refreshing as we made our way down the shallow river among the turtles, muskrats and ducks. It was a peaceful night, and a baby step towards being around others.

Since mid-March, we’ve been mainly at home. Work and school from home, meals at home, & working in the garden at home. As our state continues to open up more activities, and lessens restrictions, we’ve been around more people. Our friends from Fargo came down last week for a tubing down the river adventure. We ate outside at our place and kept our social distance, but were so happy to be around other people. When it hit 90+ on Monday, it sounded like a good idea to do that again. Even for an introvert, being alone for the last 2+ months has been a challenge. It’s time to baby step back into society.

There are guidelines on opening up restaurants, guidelines for going back to work, guidelines for visiting others, guidelines for hugging relatives (but not for too long)… it’s overwhelming and exhausting. I’m thankful to have a job, thankful to have been able to work from home, and thankful for some extra time with my family.

It’s still a bit scary for me as a cancer survivor. Am I at a higher risk? How much higher? I made the first step in setting up my MRI for next week. It’s a “routine” for me since I have dense tissue and a history of breast cancer. Then early July I will see my oncologist, possibly for the last 6-month check. Perhaps I will get moved to yearly appointments after that. Baby step to Tuesday. And then I pause, because a random Tuesday was when I got bad news. Stop, refocus, change the story. Tuesday’s can be good. They are good.

When some of us are still isolated, it’s ok to reach out. It’s ok to baby step to the next thing. Oh, and if “What About Bob?” is on Netflix, I highly recommend it. I’m pretty sure we could quote the whole movie at our house. So if you’ve seen the movie, “I’m doing the work, I’m baby stepping.” I’ll get there eventually.

Peace be with you on your journey of enough. Even if it’s just baby steps, I’ll help cheer you on!

How do you show it?

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Mother’s Day was more than a week ago, but as I was reflecting on the day, I had some thoughts. Isn’t it interesting how we show love differently? My youngest son made a Mother’s Day card and wrote a book about my chickens. I knew he was up to something when he took paper and markers out to his fort the week before. He’s been writing stories since he was very little. He loves to draw and paint. He’s 13.

My oldest son was going to make breakfast but he overslept, so he made brunch. Eggs, bacon and pancakes. He even tried to make the letter pancakes I make when we go camping. The back story on this was (when I was little), we went to a cabin each summer to visit a relative. She would make pancakes in shapes and it was the coolest thing ever. So, when we had kids of our own and started to go camping, I would make pancakes in letter shapes for my kids. Each time, I’d make a “D” and then an “M” and take a picture. This tradition must have meant more to him than I knew. He did admit this was not as easy as he thought it would be. It took a few attempts to get my “M”- but to me, it was perfect. He’s 17.

Quarantine Mother’s Day was different from “normal”… but it was great. Brunch, flowers from my husband, movies, steak and potatoes cooked outside over the fire – it was another day at home, but it was great. We got to Zoom call my parents and sisters that evening. We played a family game of cards later too.

Everyone shows love differently. There are many books on the subject, but I didn’t read these before I had kids. I had plenty of time (years) to read it, but I didn’t. Sometimes we think kids should be the same. We forget about their individuality and want them to conform to a certain mold. They have to take standardized tests & conform to the social norms of school. The distance learning has been quite a shift from standard learning. Some kids love it. Some kids struggle. Some parents are “all in” supporting them. Some parents yell at the kids for being on the computer too much.

Our oldest was recently accepted into the welding program at the Technical College. As a senior next year, he will be taking all of his classes there. Next spring, he will graduate from high school and tech school at the same time. It hasn’t been an easy road. He doesn’t like traditional classes. He works best doing hands-on projects. He made it this far. He can make it the rest of the way.

We show love differently and we learn differently. It doesn’t make it right or wrong. It makes us unique. Unique should be honored and celebrated. I wish you peace on your journey of enough. Stay safe. Stay well. You are loved.

Summer dreams…

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This is the Long Prairie River. It’s less than a mile from my house in Minnesota. As we went for a walk last week, I snapped a photo. The browns and tans of the cattails and trees will soon give way to lush green grass and leaves. This river is popular to tube down in the summer. It’s as beautiful and relaxing as you can imagine. The water is clear and you can see fish swimming beneath you as you float down the river. It’s not wide, it’s not flashy and it’s not easily accessible. There are only a few spots to get in and out of the river (which feels more like a stream). There is something about it that I love. Actually, lots of things… usually, it’s filled with family and friends, cool drinks and sometimes music. It’s peaceful and calm, a perfect way to decompress. We’ve floated down with different groups of people. Sometimes we’ve been floating with full sun, sometimes it’s on the verge of thunderstorms and sometimes the wind picks up and makes the floating a challenge.

I long for the days when we can float down again. It’s not an option right now for a couple of reasons… 1) You’d freeze your back end off because the ice came off the lake not too long ago 2) There is the issue of social distance and not wanting to wear a mask while river floating. Last Tuesday we had snow, but last weekend it was in the mid 60’s and we planted our garden. Mother Nature isn’t sure what season it is yet, but we are hoping for a great summer. We are hoping to see our friends and family again in person. I’ve struggled off and on, as I’m sure most people have. There is a big mental health piece of this pandemic that is skimmed over, but not widely talked about. I’m not a mental health expert or professional. I’m just a mom, wife & employee trying to keep kids on track with school, figure out what to feed everyone and work from home with limited internet.

“Pandemic Mavis” doesn’t get ready every day, she’s hit or miss with make up, she is overwhelmed with planning meals and she’s a little tired of being around only males (ha ha). “Pandemic Mavis” also has sewn many masks for friends and family, planted her garden, gone for walks and sewn up her injured chicken. This last 6 weeks has been a roller coaster. I feel guilty for being overwhelmed because I am thankful I have a job. I feel like the worst mom in the world when my kids don’t turn in their school work, and elated when they get back on track. I feel worried about being high risk, but isolated being at home. I feel bad for gaining weight, but I don’t want to make big changes in the middle of all of this.

Things that have made me feel better:

  • Talking with sisters
  • Video chat with friends
  • Calling parents
  • Going for walks
  • Spending time outside
  • My pets (cat and chickens)
  • Helping others

I hope you are coping well. I hope you have the support network you need. I hope you will take a moment to take a deep breath and find something to be thankful for. Give some grace to yourself and those around you. I hope you are able to stay safe and healthy. Peace be with you on your journey of enough. May your dreams of summer keep you sustained and positive, but not COVID19 positive!

Sticks & stones…

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“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” Whoever came up with this saying must not have been a teenager at any point in their life and certainly didn’t raise one. I still remember names I was called and rumors that were spread about me as a teen. It’s an age where you are trying to find out who you are, and when people put negatives into your head, you start to believe them. I am a different person than I was in high school, but why can’t I shake those labels? Why don’t I have excellent advice to give my sons?

My 17 year old son also has labels put on him and rumors spread. With social media, peers are able to message ladies to “warn her” about him and fill her with lies before he even gets to know her. They stalk where you are, who you’ve added to Snapchat or Instagram, and bad mouth anything you post. I know the pain of feeling alone and yet I don’t have the words to comfort him.

My 13 year old gets called “gay” and “pimp” because he wears suit coats to school. While I would love him regardless of if he’s gay or straight, I’m quite certain he isn’t a pimp (since he didn’t know what it even meant). Kids in his church group even pick on him and he has stuff thrown at him at school. I don’t know how to explain these things to a kid who got a kindness award and gets A’s.

It’s not a journey I wanted my kids to take. It’s not a lesson I wanted them to learn. It’s not something I was prepared to re-live. I can’t “mama bear” protect them and yell at these kids. I can’t fight their battles for them. And now we’ve changed to “distance learning,” where their online presence is all that is seen. Does this make it better or worse? Plenty of adults have hurtful things to say online too. Would they say them in person? To your face? Not sure. It’s honestly one of the things that has delayed my book writing… fear of rejection, of being seen, of putting my heart out there and being told it wasn’t good enough.

While other moms are using this time to create cute time capsules, or learn something new, or make lasting memories, I’m just getting by. We are watching movies at night and all working on computers during the day. We have home cooked meals and sack lunches from school. I’m not going to lose 50 lbs or get my book written during this time. I cleaned out my refrigerator door over the weekend and I was pretty proud of myself. My house isn’t spotless (partially because I know nobody is coming over). But hopefully, through all of this, my kids will know they are loved.

When I was looking to take a picture of actual “sticks and stones,” I ended up placing them in the shape of a cross. I didn’t realize it at first. This seems fitting since last Sunday was Palm Sunday and this Sunday is Easter. Jesus dealt with sticks and stones, palm branches and praises, thorns and nails. He sees our hurting hearts, and just like my momma bear instincts, he wants to make it better. Sometimes we have to go through the difficult stuff to come out stronger on the other side.

Peace be with you on your journey of enough. Stay home if you can, wash your hands, stay 6 feet away, don’t touch your face, and be a kind human. Don’t judge the person at the grocery store or the person online- “keep your eyes on your own paper.” We are all in uncharted territory, and you are enough!

This year, be you…

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When I was in college, I was a server at Red Lobster. The tips were good (except if you had to work lunch), and the schedule worked around my college classes for the most part. We had at least 3 managers who kept an eye on things. One gentleman took me off to the side and said, “You need to smile more. You need to look happier.” One other manager was more interested in how we looked and if our white shirts were clean. You could tell she was not listening when you talked to her. It was one of those periods of time where you look back and realize it shaped part of who you are… or who you thought you should be. I was told I wasn’t good enough. I seemed too serious, thinking, trying to remember who needed extra butter and who needed tartar sauce and which table was #73. I wasn’t “Mary Sunshine.” I was me… a college student, not sure of who she was yet.

Since it’s the New Year, you may be bombarded with resolutions or things you need to change. What if you were just the best version of you? Not a number on a scale or a grade point average or a picture perfect version – but an unapologetic, thankful to be here, awesome you. I’m not saying give up or don’t try… just be kinder to yourself. Focus on the things you are great at, the things that bring you joy, the things that bring joy to others. Don’t beat yourself up over the rest of it. I know when I’m focusing on all things I shouldn’t eat or can’t eat or how heavy I am, I feel worse. It’s not motivating to me when I think about the can’t(s) and should have’s.

So, here is my resolution: this year I will be me. I will be happy, healthy, committed and helpful. This year I will go on trips with my sisters, my family, my hubby and by myself. I will drink more water and spend time with my chickens. What am I good at? Writing, baking, giving to others, painting, sewing and planning trips. Those things (in addition to my family of course) bring me joy. This year, I’m going to do those things and I’m going to be me. I know I should lose 40 lbs, get back to running and be more successful… but what if the focus on the things that bring joy also brings new opportunities, experiences and joy to others? Then I’d say it will be a pretty good year.

My sister gave me a plate that has this saying on it and a co-worker gave me the mug. “My chickens think I’m amazing.” I love it, it makes me smile. I think you’re amazing too. You have the ability to do great things. I wish you peace on your journey of enough. May 2020 be a great year for you.

Mother hen…

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This past weekend, our youngest son turned 13. We officially have 2 teenagers in the house. Our worries about nap times and eating vegetables has changed to curfews and preparing them to be on their own. My biggest goal is to make sure they are good humans. Not perfect, free from flaws or mistakes, but nice and kind and compassionate. Unfortunately, that might be why they keep getting repeated lessons about how it feels when someone isn’t nice or kind or compassionate. Will they make mistakes? Yep. Will they make bad choices? Probably. My hope is that they learn from them and make different choices going forward.

My husband said something this weekend that made me stop and think. On our way back up to the house (after working in the garden), I mentioned about how much I love the 10 chickens we have. I also said I was kind of surprised and I had not expected to care for them as much as I do. He didn’t seem shocked at all. “They’re kind of like kids, you know? You get to mother them.” Huh. I’m the mother hen. This made me laugh, but it also made sense. As my kids move towards independence, they need me less. These chickens depend on me for food and water and to keep them safe. I’m not comparing my kids to chickens, and I certainly love my kids more than the birds. It’s just different.

My chickens don’t “bawk” at me posting photos of them. (Ha ha) They don’t care how they look or if a feather is out of place. Nobody will make fun of them. This is Teriyaki in the photo with me. We think she’s a girl but we don’t know for sure. If she starts crowing one day, we will still think “he” is cute and know that he likes clover and loves to sit on your lap.

If you Google “mother hen,” it says:

noun

INFORMAL
  1. a person who sees to the needs of others, especially in a fussy or interfering way.

Yeah, I probably am a mother hen. I guess I will be fussy with my chickens, but I’ll still be interfering with my kids. I’ll interfere enough so they know I care, but not too much to drive them away. I want them to be able to talk to me. I want them to know they are loved. I want them to have fond memories. I want them to remember the summer we got chickens and the chicken cupcakes I made. (Even though the birthday boy asked what they were supposed to be!)

Mother hen, mama bear, mommy shark, mama llama… I’m probably a bit of all of them. My heart expanded to add the chickens, they didn’t replace anything. I’m thankful to get to be a mother. It wasn’t an easy road, and I know there are moms who have lost kids or women who wish to be moms who cannot. It’s a special bond.

God doesn’t “mother hen” us. He isn’t fussy or forceful or interfering. He wants a relationship with us, but many times we are like the teenager, rolling our eyes. Take some time to sit in nature, watch the birds or dragonflies or fireflies and connect back to God. He’s the safe place where you can land. He’s the loving father who knows we still need him, even if we act like we can do it all ourselves.

Peace be with you on your journey of enough. I wish you a good summer, and if you see me in person, I’ll probably show you pictures of my chickens.

To the moms…

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That’s me in the middle. Lol. Obviously. I’m no longer taller than either of the boys. Neither one can (or would) sit on my lap. I don’t read stories to them or hold their hands in the parking lot. Those days are gone. This picture was taken on Mother’s Day. While I could be sad that my boys are no longer little, I chose to be happy they are growing.

Mother’s Days are not always sunshine and roses. Many Mother’s Days were spent wondering if I’d ever get to be a mother. This year was the first Mother’s Day since my mother-in-law passed away. This was the first Mother’s Day for friends who lost their son. I’m aware of how special it is, and I try my best to appreciate each Mother’s Day. There are very few things I want or request on Mother’s Day.

  • Let me sleep a little
  • Coffee is good
  • No dishes
  • No laundry
  • Flowers are nice but don’t spend too much
  • I’d like to avoid cooking (much)
  • I want to spend it with my kids

That last one is like a time bomb. I can hear the time ticking away like the clock on the wall. I won’t always get to spend this day with them. I don’t always see my own mom each Mother’s Day. There will be a time when my boys are working or in school or married or having kids of their own (hopefully not for a while). So for now, I’m thankful for each Mother’s Day I get with them. Last year, we moved compost and planted asparagus on Mother’s Day. This year, we played cards, went for lunch, visited a little and took a nap. Heavenly. The cat even got to visit for a while.

There are many days of motherhood where we feel like we aren’t enough. I don’t think that will go away regardless of how many books we read or inspiring videos we watch. We will feel like we are not enough because we care. We care about our kids, our family and ourselves. We want to do better and be better, not realizing we already are. We already are the cheerleaders, the working moms, the stay-at-home moms, the ones who remember the lunch money and get the ibuprofen in the middle of the night. We are enough because we care. I urge you to look into the mirror this week and tell yourself “You are a good mom. You are enough.”

I wish you peace on your journey of enough. May you have fond memories of Mother’s Day to carry you through some tough days. We are all in this together & you, sweet mom, are enough.