Random Thoughts on Writing and Children and What Works for Us.

Writing is therapeutic. But I never liked writing my innermost feelings on paper. I've always pictured myself dying and someone reading my private thoughts in a journal, and that did it for me. Blogging, though, it is like going out to dinner and keeping my manners at their best; I enjoy the food, but don't get that messy eating it.

To be fulfilled as a woman, I've heard, one must do three things: have a child, plant a tree, and write a book. I have done the first requirement three times, the second, once, and the third remains undone. I have a lot to say, but it is easier to think about it than to pen it on paper. I have quite a few short stories on life issues that I wrote over time, so I may post some of those sometime.

My favorite topics are on understanding how children and teens feel and think. I believe that many times as parents we forget how complex and complicated being a kid really is. Things have drastically changed since my childhood days, however, I haven't forgotten how dependant children are on their parent's decisions. How frustrating it could be to have inflexible parents. How they shape us to the core of our being. How we love them, how we hate them. How we treasure their unconditional and selfless love, how we resent their tyranny.

After I became a parent I made it my life purpose to seek God for guidance to grow emotionally healthy children. It is a full time job that requires dying to self. Truly. Completely. It is being able to "see" situations from their perspective, shaping them without breaking their spirit and their quest to explore. Always treating them with dignity and respect with the understanding that the final coach is God Himself...what a privilege. And theirs is the final choice...how uncertain.

It is the ability to move from control to influence as our children move toward the tween and teen years. For a controlling parent this challenge is almost impossible to fulfill. But it is mandatory for a healthy transition to independence. Would any of us allow a 2 year old cross the busy street by himself? Of course not. The same could be said for a parent who won't allow her teenage kid to go to the movies with his friends, or shows inflexibility toward a decision the teen disagrees with. They like to discuss the possibilities in an adult manner at times, while at other times they want to be little kids again. It is normal. I know I want to be a kid again sometimes and remove all the weight off my shoulders. When we have their best, realistic, interest at heart and not what looks good on the outside we'll be able to communicate heart to heart with them. Teenagers are idealists and a bit of rebels. They begin to think for themselves and it is healthy to allow them while we give them our input as we cheer them on. But when they sense hypocrisy they tend to rebel and they let you know it also.

I remember about a month ago when my son started driving himself to school and work he asked if he could drive to his friend's house. We said yes and he left. Later my husband asked me what time Jesse would be home and I responded that we didn't set a time. Everett called Jesse while we had predetermined that 9:30 ish P.M. was all we poor parents could take. My wise husband, instead, asked Jesse how he was doing and what time he was planning to come home. I was in the back ground grabbing my head thinking "No, nooooo, you can't let him decide!" Quietly my hubby hang up the phone and said "Jesse is on his way home." It was 8:00 P.M.

When we place age appropriate responsibilities on them, it is amazing how well they handle them.

We need to be transparent sometimes. My daughter turned 18 in December, and she is legally an adult. Her curfew had been about 11:00 P.M. for about a year now. She asked me if her curfew could change since she was 18. My first reaction was to say no and then lecture her on "after all young lady this is our roof and our rules." Thank God for the ability to bite my tongue. I took a second to regroup and I sweetly responded: "You are my first child turning 18, so bear and work with me here until I get the hang of it, so what do you propose as a new curfew?" She said something like: "I know that you can't sleep until I get home, so I'd like to keep it the same, around 11:00 P.M., except when I am watching a movie and I want to finish it instead of missing the end. I would still call you to let you know how late I'd be, and go to your room as always when I get home." Boy was I glad I didn't lecture her. She is such a jewel, such a kind hearted young woman, and I'm so proud of her.



God gave me the ability to move to influence. It didn't come naturally. If I had my way I would build a big cozy cage and keep my beloved children in it to save them from this cold world. I was a very in control mom of when they were little, meanwhile observing the development of other teens realizing that most of the reasons they were acting out was due to their parent's inability to let them grow up in a healthy, independent way. I decided I wasn't going to do that. We have healthy conversations where we let them know we welcome their input, and they also know the issues we won't bend on. And they respect them.

We don't give specific curfews because we believe it will set them up for failure. We say 11:00 ish, or about 5:00 P.M. That way, if they are running late they don't fail. They call instead. If they don't call we don't make a big deal either. We remind them the next time to do it as a courtesy to us. And they do. If they don't, I pray that God would soften their hearts to do the Golden Rule. And He delights in that. After all, they are His children and He has the best interest in their success.



We don't ground either. I have observed that is is an outward compliance that does not change the heart. In fact, it may add fuel to the fire. Removing privileges may or may not work depending on the teen. I recall two times requesting that Christa stay home instead of going out, and she was well in agreement with my decision. In fact, I think she secretly enjoyed it.


Lastly, and very difficult, we have to believe that they are learning from us even when it does not show; when we feel that we scar them for life, when we think there is no hope. I have shared many times the ongoing situation with my daughter's lateness everywhere: school, church, appointments, even with her friends. We tried pretty much everything we read, heard, or thought. Nothing seemed to work until she got a job. Her review praised her punctuality. She had never been late to work. That, my friends, is a miracle. If anyone would've told me that she'd be praised for being PUNCTUAL would had received a big laugh. I used to have thoughts about her being in the soup line as a homeless woman due to her inability to be on time for work. Which bring me to expand my point: It isn't our doing. My daughter had a choice to make about it, and God had the Holy Spirit working in her. My part was to instruct her on the benefits of being punctual, and she had to take it from there. Not mommy anymore. Christa and God.

One wise piece of advise I heard a long time ago to resolve a certain issue that I may not be sure about: Ask myself: Is it immoral, dangerous or against the law? If it isn't either of them we are willing to change our views for their need to explore the world. A simple example would be when our boys wanted to grow long hair. It wasn't our first choice but it didn't violate any of our filters, therefore, we let them. My husband added that it was better to let them do it at this age and not as a frustrated 50 year old man. Good point. When it came time to cut their hair (3 years later) they were looking forward to it. There was not rebellion nor bitterness. In fact, one of the boys told us he was looking forward to have short hair again.


There is so much more to tell. Being a parent is a bit like an intuitive software. It goes along with what comes naturally to do depending on the child and the situation at hand; not so much with a bunch of general rules that set us up for disappointment. And of course, God's guidance.

To all the Marias in the World

A few weeks ago, after I dropped my son off at his Art class, I decided to pull into the parking lot and wait for him while working in the car instead of going home. This ritual has been part of my life for a few years now, when I take kids from sports, to music, to Art classes I load the van with paperwork that I need to do, and at the same time, I save gas and gives me time to complete a project. I actually enjoy the peace and confinement that my van offers.

The day was warm and I left the air conditioner running as I worked, and I guess I became very sleepy. I must dozed off because the next thing I remember was a loud knock on my window that startled me, racing my heart beat and confusing me as I didn't know, for a second, where I was.

"Are you OK?" said this old lady as she motioned me to lower my window. My first thought was: "Well, I was until you almost gave me a heart attack!." I bit my tongue, of course, smiled and opened my window. She apologized and asked me if I was trying to kill myself. "What??" I thought again. She, then proceeded to tell me that "my neighbor had killed himself in his garage running his car and I couldn't just get in my car and not see if you were sleeping or unconscious."

Maria was a lonely, very sweet Portuguese lady, 79 years old, who, in 20 minutes, described her whole life to me; from her arrival to this country, her marriage to this wonderful man who died young, to her grown son and her desire to become a grandma. She added that she usually didn't talk this much because people didn't have time to listen to her rumbling on. She proceeded to thank me, waived good bye and left.

Odd, I thought, but I truly enjoyed my encounter with Maria. Some people still care. She was concerned about my well being and risked being rejected in order to make sure I was well. I thanked her for that. How many of us would have actually done what she did? As I resumed working on my papers another thought crossed my mind: What if I had entertained an Angel in disguise? If I had I know I passed the test, and a warm feeling filled my heart.

Is it Really that Important?

As the one year anniversary was approaching, I was trying hard to block off my mind that our showroom had burnt to the ground. At the time when it happened I kept telling myself: "It's only a building," "Nobody got hurt." The firemen contained it and "only" four shops were destroyed.


Ten years ago I was the mother of 3 children ages 8, 6, and 4. We had just moved back to California from Idaho with great expectations at a time when the economy was beginning to boom in Northern California to the point that even apartments were more expensive to rent than the beautiful, golf course backyard house we had built in Idaho.


Father's day came that year and we were so broke that my kids bought their Dad a McDonald's burger special for .25 cents apiece. We had lost our cat, the only living creature that was our friend because we didn't know anybody else yet. Our hamster developed a tumor and we held her funeral in the side yard of our apartment complex.


With great sacrifice we leased this shop in Los Gatos, with even greater sacrifice we furnished it with nice displays, decorated, painted, and beautify it. My kids drew little pictures for Dad to tape on his computer, and then our pictures made their way there also. It was an extension of our home, so to speak. We would go visit Daddy to see if anybody was interested on our product and service. We prayed hard, we bonded greatly, but we were having a hard time. Slowly, provision began to pour, we were able to move out of our tiny apartment into a house, and as our kids attended Christian school, I taught Spanish to offset the otherwise impossible tuition.


Fast forward ten years. Kids are 18, 16, and 14. When my husband called me that day I knew some was wrong. First thing out of his mouth was "we are all OK, the showroom burnt down." My heart sank. He had put so many hours there, so many memories gone, and there was love in those walls, in those little pictures my kids had drawn. It wasn't "just" a building. We needed to grieve. From one day to the next my husband had been laid off, no place to go. There were tears when the firemen let us go in to see what was left. Nothing is a good description. All ashes and water damage.

In the rubble we found a dinner plate that had decorated one of our cabinets, a frame with my kids pictures that had been near the computer, and, miraculously, 2 unbroken wine glasses. I believe God was saying that the most important things were intact: His provision (the dinner plate), our children (the framed picture), and His precious blood (the 2 wine glasses) He was still in control of our circumstances.



And so He was, and is.

Reminescing

Today has been a very special day in my life. My little girl turn 18. Yup, and I can't stop thinking that it wasn't that long ago I was holding her little hand against mine, and smelling that sweet baby smell that I miss so much.

She has become the kind of girl any parent would be proud. We were sure to let her know that today, and I feel privileged to have watched her make right choices. Thank you Lord for giving us such a gift.

On the more mundane side, I took Christa to have a facial and a lip wax today. It was so relaxing, I almost fell asleep on the room they assigned me. Dim lights, relaxing music, warm blanket, face massage with a bonus of arm and neck massage. I don't pamper myself very often, but I am glad we did this together. Well, Christa was in the next room enjoying her own facial. Afterwards we picked up her friend and went to the mall, had her picture taken, and then SHOPPING! Dinner at Bucca Di Peppo to end the evening, and now I'm beat.

Kind of random, but Stephanie H. inspired me to start blogging, and I had visited other sites before, but never really got started until tonight. :)