Tag: #mom

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.

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.

You don’t know what you’ve got…

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5 years ago, while still healing from radiation, I stepped wrong going down the stairs and broke my foot. I remember thinking that I never realized I take “walking with ease” for granted. I tried to use crutches, but it rubbed on my already raw skin, making it nearly unbearable. 20 rounds of radiation had peeled away layers of skin right where the crutches sat under my arm. A friend suggested a knee scooter. What a game changer! Now I could get around more easily, but since I couldn’t put weight on my broken left foot, it still made it a challenge to get around. It was better, but wow did I appreciate my foot the first day I could wear regular shoes. I kind of forget about it until it comes up in my Facebook memories.

This week is both nurse appreciation week and teacher appreciation week. I have 2 sisters… a nurse and a teacher. While their jobs are much easier to explain than mine is, their jobs certainly aren’t easier to do. I think many people across the world are realizing the impact of teachers and nurses. Many of us are trying to help our kids do distance/remote learning. We are now how I was when I broke my foot – not realizing what I had until it was gone.

But it’s not “gone” … the teachers are putting in even more hours to try and connect with kids virtually, following up with emails, Zoom or Google meets, sending kids notes, etc. Some parents are looking for the scooter to make it easier, but it’s still a challenge. It’s difficult to explain to kids why they can’t hang out with friends. It’s hard to see them miss the connections with their teachers and classmates. Heart warming stories of unique ways students and teachers are connecting are popping up all over. Look for those stories. I’m thankful for my teacher sister.

Nurses are also getting much more respect and admiration. Many nurses are holding the hands of those who are sick. They are the last person a dying patient sees. They are managing their other patients, trying to keep them safe and get them healthy. They are trying to manage their PPE, when most of us recently learned what that means. They are volunteering to help other hospitals & working long hours. They are staying separated from their families because of their exposure to high risk patients. They are saying prayers for their patients and coworkers and themselves. They are cheered in big cities, and hopefully appreciated in small cities also. We are giving them a scooter by sewing masks or donating meals. I am thankful for my nurse sister.

There are a lot of things we are realizing that we miss right now. The hair stylists, the full church, the corner bar, the favorite restaurant, the handshakes and hugs … all have more meaning when we feel them missing in our lives. Peace be with you on your journey of enough. May you stop for a moment and thank a teacher or a nurse, but don’t stop there. There are so many people to be grateful for. You are one of them. Hang in there!

What day is it?

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Seriously, since mid-March, 90% of the time, I have no idea what day of the week it is. Very rarely do I know the date. This is a bit of a challenge when I’m trying to keep track of school assignments, work schedules, blog posts and birthdays. The last two months have flown by and crawled at a snail’s pace all at the same time. Sometimes I feel like I’m in a time warp, or living some alternate reality. I’m aware this is a historic time, yet I’m not doing anything memorable or interesting. All of our summer plans are cancelled… county fair, state fair, fishing camp, Bible camp, Dude Perfect show… all of it. We aren’t sure if we will be able to go camping or not.

We are gardening, cleaning up outside, going for walks & fishing. Oh, and chickens. The chickens have been loving their tractor. I’m not sure why it has that name. Maybe because they drive around? They peck the bugs and grass and weeds and we drive them to their next spot. Some days I just want to stick my head in the sand and go watch chickens. Some days it’s productive and feels normal.

I run out of things to say. I run out of ways to motivate myself and my kids. I get overwhelmed by “do’s and don’ts” and the latest reports. We all have different opinions. At first, we seemed so unified, and we heard inspiring stories. The hearts in my window are sun faded. It seems the dividing lines, negativity and mean comments get more attention lately. When I feel those creeping in, I try to think of something positive, but I’m probably reaching for a snack instead. So today, I don’t have an inspiring story or words of wisdom… I just have me. Honestly floundering and just trying to remind myself that I am enough. You are too. Hang in there. I wish you peace on your journey of enough. We will get through this.

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!

Stop it…

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I’d like to send a message to doctors & to ladies. Doctors: Stop telling women they don’t need a mammogram. Just stop. Stop saying it’s not needed until 40 or 50 years old. Just stop. I was 41. Two of my friends were also 41. If I hadn’t had a baseline done years prior, they might have dismissed the findings. They might have told me to wait and see if it changed. I heard someone tell the story about their doctor who told them they should just “wait and see” if things changed in 6 months. My cancer grew from nothing to stage 1 in 12 months. I’m so glad I didn’t have to wait until it progressed to stage 2 or 3 or 4.

My friend told me her Doctor said she didn’t need a mammogram even though it was covered by insurance. Thankfully, she didn’t take “no” for an answer. She at least has a baseline to compare others to. Hopefully she never needs it, but it’s there and could possibly save her life.

Ladies, stop. Stop making excuses.

  1. You’re busy. I get it. We are all busy.
  2. You’re scared of having a mammogram. Being told you have cancer is scary. Telling your kids that their mom has cancer is scary.
  3. It hurts. Guess what? Having surgery hurts. It hurts longer than the 45 seconds of having your boob squished for a mammogram. Catching it early makes the treatment less invasive.

My mother-in-law had breast cancer shortly after we were married (more than 20 years ago.) A few years ago, she stopped going in for regular check ups. She stopped putting herself first. We aren’t sure why, and now we won’t get the chance to ask her. She was 70. She didn’t make it to her 71st birthday. She won’t see her grandkids graduate high school or get married. Last Friday we lit a luminaria bag in her memory at our Relay for Life event.

Our Relay for Life is one of the largest in MN. I was co-captain last year and team captain this year. We raise funds all year and our Relay night is 8 hrs long. We don’t go through the night anymore… not enough people stayed that long. I think that’s common for several Relay events. People have other commitments during their short summer. It is a powerful, emotional night. People of all ages wearing purple “survivor” t-shirts walk the survivor lap. I thought for a moment “maybe I shouldn’t go or be involved…. maybe it’s not a big deal.” And then I thought of my mother-in-law, my aunt, my friend’s wife… and I realized it’s a big deal.

My husband took a picture of the survivor on the back of my shirt. At first I thought it was silly, but it’s one of my favorite pictures of the night. My good friend decorated a bag for me with a cat that looks like ours and some chickens in clothes… perfect. It gets to be in honor of me and not in memory.

In general, please stop thinking that being survivor is not a big deal. I have a friend from a recent retreat who is traveling all over the United States to try and find a cure, a solution… something to buy some more time. Life isn’t guaranteed. We don’t know our end date. Supporting the American Cancer Society helps to fund research, provide rooms or travel assistance or valet parking.

It’s a subject that gets me fired up. I am passionate about prevention. If one person gets checked because of this awareness, it’s worth it. Mammograms don’t only happen in October. You can get checked anytime.

Stop and watch a sunset. Stop and smell some flowers (they don’t have to be roses). Peace be with you on your journey of enough. May you stop doubting, procrastinating or worrying and start living.

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.

You’re a good mom…

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Well, clearly these are turkeys & not my kids, but it made me laugh. “Slow…kids at play” sign with a group of turkeys. I didn’t look close enough to see if they were a family, but I thought it was funny… almost like they were getting coached to come this way, right towards the flag. Or perhaps there was a mom turkey leading them. “Get over here!” “What’s taking so long?” I’m sure she’s a good mom.

In the last 4 days, I’ve had an oddly high number of people tell me I’m a good mom. I’m not saying this to “toot my own horn”… it’s just very strange how many times this has come up. Do you ever need a message and you don’t quite get it – or you do get it but you’re not paying attention? Yeah, I think this is it. I’m not alone in being the kind of mom who worries about her kids & if I’m being a good enough mom for them.

I emailed my son’s 6th grade teacher to let her know about a sick relative & how it might be impacting my son. Thursday night, my son & I talked about their “DQ run” on Friday for cross country practice. He needed to bring money. I didn’t set it out at the time but I realized it at lunch time. I dropped off $5 at his school so he could have a treat at the run. I emailed his teacher & told her about the money in the office & said I am not the mom who swoops in & saves the day, because I think they need to learn responsibility, but this seemed different. (Your relative is dying & you don’t get ice cream on an 85 degree day – nope). She emailed me back that she understood. “You’re a good mom.”

I ran some errands for my oldest son because he had cross country practice after school and then had to mow two neighbors’ lawns. I was supposed to get goose decoy weights, cord and a call. I went to the local Fleet Farm with some texted pics of what I should get. I was telling a co-worker about my trek to pick up something I knew nothing about. “You’re a good mom.”

My husband was out of town and my oldest son wanted to go goose hunting. He has a Saturday cross country run at 8am. This means getting up at 4:30am to get stuff ready & go set up decoys so that he can hunt for an hour before practice. I was telling my friend about this upcoming event and how I know very little about hunting, but we were getting up early to go in Saturday. “You’re a good mom.”

My point is, I don’t think this message was just for me. It’s the small things that make a difference. Showing you care about things they like, making sure they can get a treat with the other kids when they’ve had a rough week. If you’re a mom, this message is for you too. “You’re a good mom.” No, I’m serious. “YOU are a good mom.” You may think you’re not enough, but you are the perfect mom for your kids. You are on this journey, learning from each other. So, be sure to tell someone they’re a good mom. It could be just what she needs to hear today.