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Jen: December 2008 Archives
By now you have a little list going in your mind of all the things you're going to do differently to make 2009 your best year yet. And (it must be said) by now the thought has crossed your mind that you didn't get as far with last year's New Year's resolutions as you had hoped. (Please tell me I am not the only one!) I'm wondering if this year, it might be a lot more productive (and more fun) if I make my usual list this time around with my kids in mind.
1. Lose weight. OR Spend regular time with my kids in the great outdoors. Everyone would be happier (and God knows I would be thinner) if I gave up on dieting and invested all that energy in getting outside with my kids on an everyday basis.
2. Get out of debt Open up a savings account for my elementary school kids and help them make monthly deposits on the money we save from cutting corners. There's nothing like having to teach that makes you walk the walk really fast. And by raising my kids' awareness of finances, I can only help but become more aware of my own.
3. Take a class. Invite every family member to commit to learning something new. We did this one year and it was so interesting to see what kinds of things the kids wanted to learn. Madeleine (then 7) wanted to master using a sharp knife safely (well done) and this year Carter wants to learn how to play chess. I think I'll take up African cooking--something that can benefit all of us.
4. Spend more time with family and friends. Commit to serious, regular recharge time. I always have more energy for my loved ones when I'm willing to take even the tiniest bits of time out for myself. A hot bath, a cup of tea--all these things pave the way for me to be chilled out and ready to give the quality time everyone is asking for.
What other New Year's Resolutions could you amend to include your littlest members? By making goals that involve everyone, I think I stand a much better chance at making some very simple dreams come true.
By now you are in a holiday-induced coma, vowing to yourself you will never let yourself eat this many Christmas cookies ever, ever again. I feel your pain, sisters. I'm right there with you. While you contemplate all the nutritional changes you'll make in the New Year, let me direct you to the finest of the web this last week.
Amanda Soule has a lovely photo essay up highlighting everything lovely about winter and the season. I love the quiet repose of these photos and all the hope and promise they carry.
Amy Sharp of Doobleh-vay has a fantastic solution for saying thank you this holiday season. Skip the handwritten notes (which too often never make it to the mailbox anyway) and try this lovely web-friendly bit of gratitude instead. I think any grandparent in America would be pleased as punch to be thanked in this particular way.
Do you feel like you spent too much money this holiday season? Now is as good a time as any to get back on the bandwagon and recommit to becoming a picture of fiscal responsibility in 2009. If you need a sister or two to help you get back on track, join the Poverty Party and make saving (and no more frivolous spending) fun.
And last but not least, if you think this is the very last year you can pull off Santa at your house, take this good advice from Brene Brown--mom extraordinaire--who helped her own dear girl receive the truth about Santa without losing any sparkle or magic to her holiday.
Here's a little bit of holiday goodness from our friends at PBS. You'll want to play this one on repeat, we promise. Happy Christmas, Supersisters. May the next few days be so merry, so bright.
This is Carter when he was a little boy, when he still had all his baby teeth, when he was too shy to let his tears out, before he had learned how to cry.
Now he is seven and he is finding words for his feelings. He knows how to say when something is off. He knows how to be curious when he has no idea what could possibly be wrong.
The other night we were having dinner with friends when we heard a horrible wail coming from upstairs. Carter was crying, and Dave and I both instinctively jumped from our seats to see what was going on. We found a very repentant Madeleine talking to Carter gently, our friend's bewildered son and Carter nearly shrieking, saying over and over again, "I am NOT a baby."
I wish I had a dollar for every time Carter cried his eyes out over being called a crybaby. The irony is too sweet. The best we can do is scoop him up in our arms and silently smile.
Since it was already way too late, I decided to take Carter home and put him to bed. The ride home sounded like this.
Carter: I hate Madeleine. I HATE HER. I wish I were an only child.
Me: I'm so sorry, buddy. I know the only people who can really hurt your feelings badly are the ones you love so much. And I know you love Madeleine so much for you to feel this sad right now. I'm so, so sorry.
Carter: I hate her. (sobbing) I really, really hate her. And she's so, so mean to me. I can't take it anymore.
Me: I know you have been very patient with Madeleine when she wants to play rough. And I know you really hate that kind of playing, right? It's not your way, right?
Carter: It's not. And I hate it. I really, really hate it.
(silence)
Me: Buddy, I'm wondering what it is you need from Madeleine exactly. Do you need her to be kind to you? Or more gentle? Do you need more respect?
Carter (very quiet): I need kindness. I really need kindness. And I need respect.
Me: I know it. You DO need kindness and respect. Everybody needs it so, so much.
Carter: What's respect again? I know I need it, but I forget what it means.
Me: Respect is when someone listens to you very deeply and takes you seriously and believes you when you say what's important to you.
Carter: I need respect.
Me: You do.
Carter (now wailing again): And I need LOVE. I need kindness and respect and LOVE. I really need love.
Me: You do, buddy. You need love. And you have to have it. You can't be okay without love. You really need that.
Carter (still crying): That's true. I HAVE TO HAVE IT.
(wimpering)
And I need cereal. And milk. Do we have any milk?
(we are always out of milk)
Me: We can go get milk right now. Right now.
Carter: Okay.
We wander around Safeway in silence, me and Carter, looking for milk, holding out for love, wondering what can be done about this request and this Madeleine who loves Carter so fiercely that sometimes it hurts.
Me (walking back to the car with Carter trailing behind): What do you think you can do about Madeleine?
Carter: I think I can write her a letter.
Me: That sounds good.
Carter: But I have to eat my cereal first.
Me: Fair enough.
We go home, eat cereal and Carter passes out--long before the still worried Madeleine comes home to find out where she stands. There is no letter, no conversation, no resolution really. But the next morning? I can feel the kindness and the very real understanding that you can't be okay without love. Whether you're the crybaby or the one who always plays a little bit too rough. Not even a little bit okay.
And for now that is more than enough.
How's your holiday going so far? Needing a little humor? A little love? A song or two to help you get through the craziness of the season? Enjoy this lovely selection of posts from around the web to make your days merry and bright.
Is there going to be a shiny new bike under the tree for a cute little guy in your house? This adorable video will be sure to remind you of your own days learning how to ride with your parent of choice running alongside down the hill.
For mothers needing a little more support during the holiday season, don't miss this collection of rants from mothers on the web who are right where you are, working hard to get everything together just in time.
Madeleine has entertained herself endlessly over the last two weeks by elfing herself and everyone she knows with this clever little tool. If Christmas cards are totally out of the question at this point, you might do just as well to send a little e-card with the elf-version of your nearest and dearest.
Hanukkah is just days away. Have you found your menorah yet? Here's a very helpful little video from a Jewish mom who is happy to share her secrets on how to celebrate Hanukkah on a budget.
an unexpected handmade gift from a friend
a snuggling growing girl curled up in your mama arms all night long
slap happy children making stupid jokes from the backseat
old songs that make you feel hopeful and warm inside
a buddha baby girl quiet in your arms
a tickle fight with your kids and your neighbors
homemade chocolate chip cookies made from the recipe you stole from your sister
a Charlie Brown Christmas tree
a silly seven year old boy who's still waiting for his two front teeth
everything far from perfect, but plenty good enough just the same
What's making you joyful today?
Good morning, Supersisters! I'm home from a very inspiring trip to New York City this week where I met with some amazing women who are doing their part to make this world a better place. (Special thanks to all those waitresses who kept pouring the coffee and didn't mind if we hogged the table for a couple of hours past our due!) This weekend's roundup has mothers (and dads) of young girls in mind. Enjoy!
Maggie Doyne is one of those young women that makes mothers like me want to track her mother down and find out what the secret formula is. When Maggie was eighteen years old, she decided to pack up her backpack and go on a trip around the world. Her adventures led her to a little village in Nepal where she found her heart's true calling--providing a loving home for orphaned boys and girls. With her life savings--$5000 she made from babysitting through her younger years--Maggie bought the land in the village that was calling to her heart, came home to form a non-profit called Blinknow.org and went back to Nepal to build the home her heart told her was required to make the world a more hopeful place for the lost children of her village. Don't miss this lovely story about everybody's daughter.
Emily McKhann is one of those mothers who is doing her part to make the world better for children by providing a place of connection, inspiration and meaning for their mothers. Kris and I first met Emily at a conference a few years ago and immediately adopted her into our circle of sisters. Since that meeting, Emily has done important work around making toys safe for kids, citizen journalism and continuing the reach of an important story about kindness and friendship. But what I love most about Emily is the way she is continuing to develop her heart and her soul so she can be the best mother possible to her own two little girls.
Looking for inspiration today in raising your own strong, brave girl? Check out these links:
A Single Dad Raising a Girl
Raising a Powerful Girl
Women Raising Girls: It's Complicated
If you are writing specifically about the experience of raising girls, please leave us your links in the comments below.
It goes like this.
Leah calls Madeleine to see if she'd like to come to some kind of activity or service with her at her synagogue. Madeleine is just about to give an enthusiastic yes when Leah insists her father or her mother need to talk to me on the phone. One or the other or sometimes both parents assure me no one is trying to convert Madeleine, that they are hardly Jewish themselves, that they're atheists really.
I tell them I'm not worried at all, and I'm not. In this family? If anyone at all decided they wanted to be religious, I'd be pleased as punch. All my efforts at spiritual formation have fallen flat from the very beginning.
Then Madeleine gets back on the phone, decides she wants to go anyway and has a wonderful time. That week, this week, and the next week. In no time, despite the endless disclaimers of Leah's incredibly nice, liberal and not very Jewish parents, Madeleine thinks conversion is the best idea since saving all her money with Carter to buy the Wii.
Madeleine: Mom, seriously, seriously. Can I convert to Judaism?
Me: Hmmm....Let me think about that. What's making you think you might like to?
Madeleine: Well, Jews have the best holidays and I love the singing and the dancing and the having a prayer to say for everything--did you know there's a prayer you can say for going to the bathroom?--that, and oh, I love Friday night dinners.
Me: Me, too. Okay, well, we should probably wait to talk to Dad and see what he says. There's no rush, right? I mean they probably aren't going to let you convert over night. I imagine it will take some time. There's probably some kind of big involved process, don't you think?
Madeleine: Oh, no, mom. Some guys--what do they call them?
Me: Rabbis?
Madeleine: Yeah, rabbis. Some rabbis make you wait forever, but there's one way you can do it that's really fast.
Me: Like a fast track to becoming a Jew?
Madeleine: Exactly.
If only the rabbis could hear us now.
The next conversation is on the phone again and it sounds like this:
Madeleine: Dad, dad, dad! Can I become a Jew?
Dave (after he makes her slow down and explain what she's talking about): I think that would be great. But don't you think that's the kind of decision you probably need to make when you're a grownup?
Madeleine, of course, is devastated, and feeling slightly persecuted.
She flails herself on the couch, despondent, while Carter and I watch her like television, wondering what we should do.
"Carter," she asks, opening her eyes for a moment. "Do you support me becoming a Jew?"
"I don't know what support is," he answers honestly. "I don't know how to help anyone."
Madeleine sighs, but she's not angry. "Mom," she says, turning to me with all the sobriety of an old soul. "Will you support me?"
"Yes," I tell her. "And I think Dad will, too."
This eases the pain for awhile and we turn our minds to other things like when we'll get a Christmas tree and if you can celebrate Christmas if you're Jewish and how problematic she thinks it might be if she becomes a Jew and then marries a Jewish boy and then loses her ties to the other religions completely and how nice it would be to be able to celebrate all the religions all at once instead of having to pick just one.
"I'm just that kind of person," she tells me. "I can't help it. I can't wait until Chinese New year and I just have to have a Christmas tree. Do you think we can get a Menorah?"
And I smile and nod and send her and her little heart, so full of wanting to belong and wanting to honor the sacred in each and every form, right upstairs where she'll sleep on all this and then some in her cozy pink bed. No matter what happens, I hope when she wakes she'll still be searching, still be hoping, still be counting on finding her place in a much bigger "we," in a space where her heart tells her there is always, always more.
Summer was almost over by the time I started catching on to conversations like this:
Carter: "How much money is there?"
Madeleine: "I don't know, let me check the vault."
Carter: "Okay, just make sure you put it in the shared account."
Shared account? Vault? What's going on here?
They finally confessed they had decided to pool resources for some time (hence the "shared" account) in hopes of crossing some items off their Christmas list. Santa? Who needs Santa when we can cat sit and dog sit and bird sit our way to kid toy/game heaven a month before the elves leave the station?
A few more months of saving and scheming and working and taking every stray penny that fell on the floor, they were able to make their goal and take their ziploc bag full of dollars and bills to the store of their choosing to make a very hefty purchase.
I won't go into the details here, but the bottom line? My kids shocked the socks off me by making a grownup size acquisition on a kid size budget--and neither one of them gets an allowance. I really think the only way it was able to happen was because they kept parental involvement to an absolute minimum and did it in a way that made sense to them.
Here are a few ingredients of their success. Feel free to run these by your school-age kids to see which ideas match their own style of sibling-powered saving and spending.
Divvy up responsibilities. Madeleine did the bulk of the work, but was sometimes tempted to bail on the plan and go to the movies instead. Carter had the discipline of a drill sergeant and kept that wild-spirited Madeleine on track. Not one dollar slipped through his hands.
Spread the word. Carter asked me fifteen times a day if I had any ideas about how he could make money while Madeleine offered to dog sit anyone's dog in the neighborhood at our summer block party. Our neighbors knew if there were any little jobs appropriate for kids, ours would be into it.
Remember the mantra: Sharing now means sharing later. I asked Madeleine why she decided to go in with Carter when she clearly had more earning power. "Well," she answered. "I don't think I could have done it without Carter. Having Carter made it easier. And now we both have the same right to play on that thing. It wouldn't be as much fun if it was only mine and then Carter was bugging me to use it and I had to decide to share or not. This way it belongs to both of us." Fair enough.
Do you remember doing similar projects when you were a kid? Do you think your kids could do what you did then, now? What's your take on kids buying things for themselves?