Humanity Challenge

I have some really awesome friends.  I enjoy stalking them occasionally on Facebook.  I logged in tonight to get semi-caught up...

 3 Ice Bucket Challenge videos

(all agreeing to also donate $)

1 post from a ministry thanking a friend

for gathering friends to volunteer and serve others for a day

2 posts of people fostering stray animals

6 Anti-Ice Bucket Challenge posts 

6

 

Let me remind myself...

I have really awesome friends...

Even the ones that posted anti-challenge stuff.

But I have to remind myself again, because I'm really confused now seeing more than a handful of posts bashing a good thing.

I get so annoyed with humanity when I see posts discouraging people from their good intentions.  If you don't want to dump ice water on your head, that's fine. Nobody cares.  But stop telling other people to stop doing it.

IT'S BEEN A HUGE SUCCESS.

There are a handful of charities that have benefited from it and plenty of laughs had by it.  When something starts with good intentions and results in an outpouring of support for multiple charities, quit discouraging it. 

You want to write a check silently?  That's awesome!!  And a great idea.  I absolutely 100% support you.  However, had the first guy to do the challenge done exactly that, only ONE charity would be $100 richer instead of multiple charities being thousands and/or millions richer. 

Don't knock a good thing.

Don't want to accept the ice bucket/cold water challenge?  No worries.  I have another one for you. I'm calling it the #HumanityChallenge. 

The rules are simple.

 

When somebody does a good thing with good intentions,

don't discourage it.

You don't have to join it.

You don't have to support it.

You don't even have to agree with it.

Just don't discourage it.

Have some humanity.

#HumanityChallenge

Shut.

This morning sucked.   Sure, it could've been a lot worse, but there was plenty of room for improvement.  3 hours after our intended time to leave the house this AM, Ellie and I finally headed out the door. 

I set Ellie's juice cup on the roof of the car along with a small cardboard box and attempted to secure her in her car seat.   Let's just say getting in the car took longer than expected as well.  When we were both finally successfully buckled I breathed a sigh of relief and backed out. 

Our driveway needs some major repair and could second as a skateboard obstacle ramp at the moment. I bumped carefully up the hill and heard what sounded like an explosion.  I was sure I had just wrecked into one of our concrete obstacles.  Although I try to be a better person these days, there was a period of time in my college years that some of my language was similar to that of a sailor's, and, well, after this most fun morning, I had a momentary relapse.  First one I've had in 2.5 years in front of the kid.  I didn't even notice it. 

I put the car in park. Got out.  Looked for damage and realized that stupid sippy cup and box had just crashed down the back of the car and landed safely on the ground.  Whew.  No wreck.  No damage.  Breathed another sigh of relief and got back in the car.

Ellie:  "Mama, why you say shut?“ 
Me:  "Shut?  What? When did I...? "
Oh, little brain. How thankful I am you didn't process my words correctly. 
"Um... I just needed to shut the door."

She was 100% content with that answer.  Brilliant.  Thought that was the end.  Breathed another sigh of relief.  I took that as this weeks parenting fail and save all tied into one. 

Ha.  Ohhhh stupid, young mom.  Of course your mistake is not gone so quickly.  Every time we put Ellie in the car now....  "Shut." Every. Time.  Not "shut the door", not "shut that".  Just shut.

Ha.  Thanks for that little reminder, God.  I deserve it.  It's precisely what this mom needs to do with her mouth.  Keep.It.Shut.

Shut.

If you ever try to tell me God doesn't have a sense of humor, I won't believe you. 

We packed up Jesus today.

We're moving.  Not far this time.  Just down the street and around the corner, but nonetheless, it's packing time.

Yesterday was 'pack all the random decorations and stuff sitting on the table' day.  Once I'd cleared most of our surfaces, I looked over to our nativity table.  I didn't want to do it, but Jesus is coming with us, so it was time to get him ready to go and pack him up. 

I've never paid so much attention to packing a nativity in my life.  In years past, I remember just tossing the figurines in some tissue paper and stuffing them in the box hoping they'd fit and be protected enough to come out pretty and perfect the next year, much like every other Christmas decoration.

But... Yesterday was different. 

I took Jesus first.  I wrapped half a piece of tissue paper around him.  Then I took the other half of the tissue paper and wrapped Mary up with him making sure they were positioned such that Jesus was in Mary's arms.  I didn't want to separate the two of them.  Then I took Joseph and wrapped him with half a piece of tissue, and I used the other half of Joseph's tissue to wrap the angel with him.  I placed them in the box right next to Mary and Jesus.  I didn't want anything to come between the family and God's angel.  Then I wrapped the wise men.  Then the shepherd with his sheep.  Everything had it's place.  Every place had meaning. I continued like this for about 10 minutes.  It used to take me two to pack that nativity up. 

But... This year is different.

This year I am a mom.  Those pieces aren't just a nativity to me anymore.  They are a family.  They are God's family.  They are my family.  They represent Ellie's understanding of Jesus and our faith.  As a mom, I am now emotionally connected to those pieces.

In other words, I am a mom, and I have officially fallen off my rocker.  Somebody come pack the rest of my house before I have to be committed. 

Just Mom

Ok that's it. In 6 hours when my alarm is blaring telling me it's time for another day, I know I'm going to regret staying up to do this... but with all the other things I've got to do before bed anyway, holding my tongue isn't one I want to add to the list tonight.

So... here goes....
(steps up on soap box a little regretfully knowing I should never step up on a soap box emotional and deliriously tired)

Lately my Facebook and Pinterest have been filled with articles about the stay at home mom; how much they do, how awesome they are, how tired they must always be, how little they're appreciated, how much harder their job is than any other job. Like a dummy, I read every single article despite the fact that I am not a stay at home mom. I actually agree with most of what is written in the articles, but there are some pointed, exclusive words that offend me.  Those words?  Stay at home. And that's what I'm here to address.  It's about time we get rid of those words.

The last article/blog/whatever I read (the one that threw me up on this soapbox) informed me of the hardest job in the world. Want to take a guess at what it is?

Stay at home mom.

Alright then.  Thanks.  That's great for us working moms. Our job didn't make the cut. I guess what those kind people told us 6 weeks post partum as we went back to work was right, "Somebody else is going to raise our kids."

Awesome.

I wish I had listened to those kind people 2.5 years ago. I could've saved a whole lot of effort and energy. Oh well. Now that it's been confirmed over and over and over again on the internet, let me just sit my big working mom butt down and take a nap.  My job is easy.

Oh wait... I just got off work and now there's a little one to pick up from daycare and feed and reassure that even though I didn't spend every second of the day with her, I wish I could have. There's reprogramming to do.  Every bad habit Little Johnny shared at daycare must be broken quickly before it's too late.  Every time out of the day must be addressed.  Every good deed of the day must be recognized and praised.  Then there's laundry to do. Dishes to wash. Floors to scrub. Toys to pick up. A child to bathe and read to and cuddle and love. Spaghetti to wash out of MY hair.  Oh hey... the last bit of that sounds really familiar. Oh wait... That's because I just read that list of to dos in the stay at home mom praise article.

Imagine that.

Stay at home moms and working moms doing equally difficult tasks!  Huh.  Maybe us working moms need a little praise too.  Maybe there's no need to exclude us in your sweet little 'stay at home mom' article.

You want to know what the REAL hardest job in the world is?

Being a mom.

Did you catch that?

Not a stay at home mom.

Not a working mom.

Just a mom.

There's no need to differentiate when you're praising and recognizing the hard work moms do, because we all do the work.  Praise and recognize us all. We all have our battles. It's time they are all appreciated.  Equally.  Not just the ones that stayed home.  

So, to moms:

You're awesome. All of you. Those that work. Those that stay home. If you're present and trying every day as hard as you possibly can whether you mess up occasionally or are the definition of perfection, you, my dear, are awesome. You are appreciated, and what you do is recognized. Keep it up. And ignore any article/blog/whatever that excludes you. You're too good for it anyway.

Our Truck, Pocket.

Ellie, Scott, and I live about two hours away from my family now.  During the summer, Scott works weekends.  We go to church as a family Sundays, but other than that, every weekend is girl's weekend. 


Ellie and I go to visit my family fairly frequently.  It's a quick enough drive that it's easy to drive up  Friday night after work and come home Saturday night in time for bed.  However, the drive is ridiculously boring.  I try to come up with cute games to play; find the cows, look for birds, wave to the trucks, identify the road kill.  But like I said, it's a boring drive.


Luckily this last trip we had some entertainment.  I called one of my best friends, Quinn, to catch up.  She wasn't available, so I left her a message.  Not 5 minutes later, my phone was ringing. 

Caller ID:  Quinn. 

Real caller?  Quinn's butt. 

When I first answered I assumed I was losing service.  "Quinn, are you there?  Hello?  Can you hear me now?"  No reply.  Then I heard her voice in the distance and knew we'd been butt dialed. 


With nothing else to do, I decided it was urgent that we let Quinn know she'd butt dialed us so she could hang up.  I mean, we sure weren't about to hang up.  Of course we had to scream so she could hear us in her pocket.

"Quinn-delicious.  Help.  We're stuck in your pocket."

This went on for about 35 minutes.  Like I said, this drive is ridiculously boring.  Finally the call cut off.


Immediately after we stopped yelling....

"Mama, we in Quinn-delicious's pocket?"

Whoops. 


I said no and explained the 'joke', but that came 34 minutes too late.  Scott's truck will now forever be Quinn-delicious's Pocket, Pocket for short.  Although Scott preferred the old name of Meredith, I'm pro-Pocket.  Road tripping in a pocket is just way more fun than road tripping in a truck.   

Argue forever. Until you're blue in the face. Really. Please.

I put Ellie in the bathtub the other night.  Filled it with bubbles, handed her some toys, and sat down next to the tub.  She looked at me and giggled.

 

"You're a baby." Ellie

"Who's a baby?" Me

"You are."  Ellie

"No, I'm not, silly." Me

"Yes, you are!"  Ellie

(lots of giggles)

"Ha. I am not a baby.  You're a baby."  Me

"You're a baby!" Ellie

 

 

I laughed.  It was cute.  She's reached the age of debate.  This time it was cute.  There are other times where I must admit, I come close to pulling my hair out or hiding in a closet with a bottle of wine.  She argues a lot.  Of course, we knew she would.  She comes by it honestly.  We did (err... do) the same.

It can wear a parent out, but I am always baffled when I talk to other parents about it.

"Oh, I couldn't deal with that. I'd put an end to that quickly."

 

What?  Why?  I don't get it.  Why would you attempt to disarm a personality trait that could come in great use later in life?  Because it's tiring?  Or do you really think you're doing right by your child to not allow debate? 

I remember when I was a kid.  I argued.  All.the.time.  Ask anybody that knew me.  Some grown adults still won't have anything to do with me now thanks to the arguments I had with them as a child (Sorry guys, I promise I'm not such a pain anymore).  I think my mom has about 23 different books on how to handle 'the strong willed child'.  I was a force to be reckoned with.  Luckily for me, my parents figured out how to 'handle' me.  Luckily for me again, my parents weren't parents that wanted to 'put an end to that quickly.'

Instead of discouraging the fight, my parents encouraged the debate.  I wasn't allowed to talk back, but I was allowed to express my opinion, respectfully, even if it took me an hour to finally communicate it.  My parents questioned me.  They questioned my views.  They made me prove my point.  They taught me to pick my battles.  If I was going to fight, I'd better make sure whatever I was fighting for was worth it.

My parents encouraged and reinforced good morals and respect.  This helped out a lot when it came to making sure what I was fighting for was worth it, and it is the main reason I absolutely will not discourage the fight in my child(ren).  If Ellie fights with me today and I don't discourage her, but instead instill good morals and teach her what's worth fighting for, she'll fight with her friends tomorrow.  She'll fight for what's right.  She'll do what's right.  Even when I'm not there.  Even if her friends don't agree.  It's just going to take a lot of patience, effort, and prayer from me (us- the parents) and her. 

I pray I can do what my parents did.  I pray I can maintain my patience and understanding (and sanity and sobriety). I pray I can teach her what's worth fighting for... and what's not.  I pray that her arguments with me today help build a strong foundation for her tomorrow.  I pray that they keep her on the right path.  I pray I can develop her debate without killing her fight. 

I'm no parenting expert, but it just doesn't make sense to me to discourage debate with a child... especially when it's a natural trait in some children.  Make the extra effort, say some prayers (eat some chocolate or drink a glass of wine if you must), teach your child what the good fight is, and encourage them to fight it.

I can see the fight in my child every day, and I love it.  Even when it exhausts me.


I did it.

Apparently it's stomach bug season, and we've been hit.  Ellie's been throwing up the past few days.  She doesn't comprehend what's going on.  She just knows it sucks.  A true Southern Belle though, she handles it with grace.  Seriously. 

This is what she chose to do in between 'episodes' this weekend. 

 

 

She even picked the shade that best brought out the color of her eyes.

I'm such a proud Southern mom.  Ha.

I won't mention the fact that she snuck this adventure in while I was taking a shower and dad was away at work. 

 

Slight detour...

Back to the story... 

 

We've been trying to teach Ellie to throw up in a bucket.  Explaining upchucking to a 2 year old isn't easy.  Explaining why they should run for a bucket/toilet as soon as they feel that 'sick sensation' is even less easy.  But, this smart kid has it mastered.  To a T.  It's so pitiful.  Yet so precious at the same time.  Yes.  I just said puking a bucket was precious.  If you know Ellie, you'll understand.  Everything she does is precious.  Really.  I know I'm biased, but really.

 

We've developed a strategy:

She coughs. 

I come running with the bucket. 

She holds it until I get there. 

So far that works.  I know it's not fail safe. 

She leans over the bucket.

Success.

 

"I did it."

Cough. Cough.

Sniffle. Sniffle.

"I did it, Mommy."

 

The first time she said 'I did it', I had no idea what she said.  Then she threw up again and said it again.  I got it that time.  I was so proud.  She was so proud.  It cracked me up and brought a little light on the dark day.  It was funny.

 

Welcome to parenthood. 

Where puking is precious,

puking in a bucket is something you're proud of,

and 'I did it' is a sentence that can bring a laugh and brighten a day.

 

 

 

Now... to get her well... so she can feel better, we can feel better, 

and we can all laugh without there being any pain behind the funny...