The post The Mother Letters appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

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One of my daughters started babysitting for a morning moms’ meeting. The first week, a woman came up to her and asked if she was Ann Kroeker’s daughter. When my daughter said she was, the woman said, “Your mom spoke to our group years ago, and I’ll never forget what she said.”

My daughter expected to hear a profound quote so powerful and life-changing, it was worth holding onto for seven years.

The woman smiled. “She said sleep deprivation is a classic torture technique, so if you’re a young mom feeling like you’re being tortured…you are!”

My daughter laughed as she told me the story later that day.

“You had no idea I was so very wise, did you?” I remarked. She laughed again. My “wisdom” was cracking her up.

For the record, my daughter added that the woman insisted my message helped her get through the early, exhausting days of parenthood, realizing that if she felt like she was being tortured by late-night feedings and lack of sleep, it wasn’t her imagination. Hearing that, I’m glad I talked about torture that day (it was, by the way, just one small point in a larger presentation).

I remember with a shiver those lonely, depressing, sleep-deprived, mush-mind days. Back then, I told people my mind felt no more lively than a bowl of cold, congealed oatmeal. I began to fear I’d never write again. As you can imagine, writers need functioning minds to do their job. Bowls of cold oatmeal offer little to the world.

Author Kimberlee Conway Ireton knows this feeling. When she felt her mind dissolving to mush and her emotions going haywire while her newborn twins consumed every waking (and sleeping) moment, her psychological health waned. She felt like she was cracking up.

Yet, her book Cracking Up: A Postpartum Faith Crisis provides concrete evidence that even during the darkest times of her postpartum struggles, she could write and laugh. The “Grace Notes” she faithfully scribbled down reflect word artistry and the eyes and heart of a poet. The jokes interspersed reveal the humor that lifted her sagging spirit.

Margie, her spiritual advisor, asks “where has God been meeting you.” Kimberlee says she is grateful for laughter. She tells some stories and she starts laughing so hard she’s crying. “Oh man,” Kimberlee says, “I have to stop laughing. I’m going to pee my pants.” Then she remembers another story that makes her laugh even more. Margie’s laughing, too, and says, “[D]on’t you see God?”

“God?”

“Yes, God!” Margie exclaims. “I see God in all of this laughter. So clearly. I see his delight in your laughter…It’s still Easter. I think it’s just perfect that this season of laughter in your life is happening during Easter.”

…I tell Margie, “Anne Lamott says that laughter is carbonated holiness.”

“I like that,” she says, and smiles. “Carbonated holiness. Yes.”(47, 48)

Throughout the book, Kimberlee is open about details associated with pregnancy and nursing mom issues and describes gadgets including the breast pump, nipple cream, and the “baby hugger” support system she wore during pregnancy. Her husband sees her putting on this contraption and says he’s going to miss these days. She knows how unattractive she must appear at that moment. She makes a face at him.

I pull the baby hugger’s suspenders over my shoulders and down to my belly. It’s a bit of a stretch, even for the elastic. When I fasten the suspenders to the girdle, the velcro doesn’t hold. The suspenders fly up and hit me in the face.

Doug laughs again. “Yep,” he says, “I am definitely going to miss this.” (72)

She deals with problems far more serious than being thwacked in the face by elastic suspenders (and teased by her husband). [SPOILER] She deals with health complications during the pregnancy and a neonatal emergency after the twins’ birth, adding stress to an already stressful situation. She and her husband carry this anxiety with them into life at home caring for twins and two older kids.

As her subtitle states, Kimberlee was hit hard. Her depression is complicated by her desire to succeed as a writer (and her inability to do so). She declares quite honestly that she dreams of being a bestselling author (which seems unlikely given that her first book is, in her words, “tanking”). Consumed by 24/7 demands of feeding, changing, nurturing two newborn twins and two older children, Kimberlee wonders if her writing life may be lost forever.

Her fears intensify far beyond the baby blues. Kimberlee’s story reveals a mom in the midst of postpartum depression unable to recognize her need for medical intervention. Though she seems to have revealed to family and friends glimpses of the mounting anxiety she carried, I’m guessing no one knew how bad it was.

Tears drop onto my hand, onto Ben’s little swaddled back. How do I hold those things in tension? The goodness of my life, the many gifts I have, and the fact that I still find my life so difficult? And the most sobering fact that it could easily be so much harder?

…My tears fall harder, and my heart feels like it’s cracking right open and all the fear and unfairness and suffering is leaking out my eyes. And then, it fills my mouth, and I want to scream, but I can’t—I’ll wake my almost-sleeping babies, I’ll scare Jack and Jane who are in the living room waiting for me to read to them—so it erupts in a silent scream of pain, anger, anguish, as if I could rid myself of those things simply by opening my mouth wide enough, by crying hard enough. (Ireton 194, 195)

Thankfully she has help. Her husband, her mom, her sister, her spiritual director, and her friends step in and help carry her burdens in tangible ways, listening, bringing her meals, and keeping her laughing and praying. This network of support impressed me, as does the way they steer Kimberlee to truth in a way that does not offend or seem trite. As fear almost paralyzes her, she clings to threads of faith.

Life is precious, each moment a gift, and my best self—the self that I long to live out all the time—believes that God holds each moment, eternally present before Him, and when we stand before Him face to face, we will get those moments back, purified and perfected. We will. And if we don’t, God will have something even better for us—something more than all we can ask or imagine.

I believe. Oh help my unbelief.

Oh Jesus, cast out my fear. (177)

[PROBABLY THE BIGGEST SPOILER] Finally, fortunately, after months of sleep deprivation and postpartum hormonal flux, she gets the medication she needs to balance out her system. The twins start also to sleep through the night.

She’s medicated. She’s rested. She’s back. She’s believing. She’s writing.

She’s going to make it.

[END OF SPOILER] Kimberlee’s humor throughout the book offers occasional respites from the weight of her struggle, but it’s scary at times to read about her fears and anxiety, her soul-echoing emptiness.

Nevertheless, I recommend that people read this book to better understand postpartum depression and how it sets in and grows. And if you know someone with a newborn, especially twins, assume that she is sleep-deprived and needs your help in practical ways. She may also need you to discern her level of anxiety and depression.

When you drive over to drop off a meal and rock the baby, bring her a copy of Cracking Up: A Postpartum Faith Crisis, as well. Leave it with her. It’s a sobering read, but her humor and quality writing make the topic accessible. Later, ask if she feels like Kimberlee. And if she sort of deflects it with humor, shrugs a little, or breaks out in tears, get her help. Pick up the phone and make the appointment for her, if need be. Help her load the kid(s) into the car and drive her to the doctor’s office, for her to get a diagnosis.

Cracking Up: A Postpartum Faith Crisis is a reminder that postpartum depression is no laughing matter. It’s more like torture. Kimberlee handled it with humor and grace, but she struggled and suffered, and no one needs to feel that, carry that, try to survive that alone.

Kimberlee writes for two online organizations I’m part of: The High Calling and  Tweetspeak Poetry. As an editor of her work, I can assure you Kimberlee’s got her mind back. And her faith. But she needed people to step in and help her see what to do.

You can be that person for someone like Kimberlee. Let her story change other women’s stories. Maybe even your own.

* * * * *

BOOK GIVEAWAY!

If you would like a copy of Cracking Up for yourself or to give away, I’m going to send my copy to one lucky commenter. If for some reason you don’t want to be in the drawing (maybe you already have the book, for example), let me know (but feel free to leave a comment anyway!). To be included in the drawing, leave your comment (with some way to contact you) by 8:00 p.m. ET Friday, December 20, 2013. I’ll do the random drawing and announce the winner on Saturday, December 21.

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Work Cited:

Conway Ireton, Kimberlee. Cracking Up: A Postpartum Faith Crisis. Seattle, WA: Mason Lewis, 2013. Print.

The post Book Response – Cracking Up: A Postpartum Faith Crisis appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

Watching my baby grow up so fast, I face a thousand goodbyes.

Every day, my baby leaves behind a trail of change.

Those changes morph into memories that I scramble to save and savor.

I light candles on birthday cakes and snap pictures, laughing at my child’s delight—all the while swallowing back a lump in my throat forming at the thought of the thousand little goodbyes that day represents.

Goodbye, pacifier, blankie, sippie cup, toddler bed. Goodbye, Little People and Playmobil.

Goodbye, Dr. Seuss and Dora the Explorer.

Goodbye, childhood.

I know I’ve deepened and matured through this life of goodbyes, but it doesn’t make them easier.

When he was little, my son called oatmeal “opa-meal,” the Pledge of Allegiance the “fledge” of allegiance, and pancakes were “pampakes.”

For a long time he said “pomatoes” for tomatoes.

We were working on letter sounds with him one day. Studying black-line drawings of nouns that start with the “t” sound, he understood that each word began with that hard “t-t-t.

“T-t-tire” he said while looking at the picture, then proudly glancing up for affirmation.

“That’s right.”

“T-t-turtle.”

“Yep.”

“T-t–what is that flower?”

“A tulip.”

“Oh! It’s pretty. T-t-tulip.”

Keeping the rhythm, he looked at the next picture and said “P-p…” He stopped, realizing that he wasn’t making the “t” sound, even though he was pretty sure he was looking at a pomato. He started again, “P-p…” He stared at it. “What is this thing?” he asked.

With the pang that accompanies goodbyes, I reluctantly said, “A t-t-tomato. It’s a to-ma-to.”

“Tomato?” He was perfectly capable of saying it.

“Yes,” I sighed, “a tomato.”

“Oh. T-t-tomato.”

Goodbye, pomato.
__________________________________________

Are the demands of motherhood keeping you from a rich relationship with God?

With ideas from mothers in all seasons of life, this book offers creative, practical, and enjoyable suggestions to help you discover how a passionate relationship with God is possible in the midst of motherhood.

“The Contemplative Mom gives busy, loving, kid-centered mothers permission to rest, like a tired child, in God’s strong arms. An important book.”

—Rachael and Larry Crabb, authors and speakers

The post A Thousand Goodbyes: Watching My Baby Grow Up So Fast appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

Each Wednesday I’m recording a Curiosity Journal to recap the past week. Tag words are: reading, playing, learning, reacting and writing.

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Some of you have mentioned that you’re keeping a Curiosity Journal, as well. Leave your link in the comments so that we can visit and enjoy your weekly review.

Reading

I started up Sophie’s World again, which I had abandoned several months ago; I also began reading Scott Russell Sanders‘ Staying Put: Making a Home in a Restless World.

I love the details Scott uses to remember the place of his youth as he drives to revisit it as an adult. He writes of Mr. Ferry, who used to let the neighborhood kids swim in his pond:

We knew that when we knocked at Mr. Ferry’s door, raising money for school or scouts, he would buy whatever we had to sell. He was a tender man. He loved his wife so much that when she died he planted a thousand white pines in her memory. The pines, spindly in my recollections, had grown into a forest by the day of my return. (7)

And while details like forsythia and willow trees bring his writing to life (show; don’t tell) I also appreciated this more straightforward observation:

One’s native ground is the place where, since before you had words for such knowledge, you have known the smells, the seasons, the birds and beasts, the human voices, the houses, the ways of working, the lay of the land, and the quality of light. It is the landscape you learn before you retreat inside the illusion of your skin. You may love the place if you flourished there, or hate the place if you suffered there. But love it or hate it, you cannot shake free. Even if you move to the antipodes, even if you become intimate with new landscapes, you still bear the impression of that first ground. (12)

Playing

I was planning to take a snapshot of this coffee mug one morning. It’s my favorite for coffee.

The Belgian Wonder’s sister gave it to us when we visited her in 2008. I admired it while sipping Douwe Egberts one morning in her kitchen.”Douwe Egberts coffee in a Douwe Egberts mug. I love it! It’s so retro, so fun,” I exclaimed. “Plus it’s not too big and not too small.”

As we were leaving to fly back to the States, she handed it to me. “We can get another here in Belgium,” she said. “Take it.” I almost cried. Not because of the mug, but because she was so generous. And, well, maybe a little because of the mug, too, because I loved it so.

Learning

My youngest daughter, 13 years old, jokes that most of what she’s wanted to learn, she’s learned from YouTube videos.

Curious about crochet, she watched several tutorials and followed those steps to perfect the basic stitches.

Then she found a pattern, worked on it quietly in her bedroom, and one day came down to reveal her creation:

Another day, she came down to model this:

She’s looked up recipes and discovered patterns to sew things, like a doll she needed to make for history class.

She sewed the doll from a soccer sock, and used a pattern found online to cut out clothes to be worn under a knight’s armor. She never did get around to making chainmail by bending bits of wire into circles using needle-nose pliers, but she did construct an interesting helmet from a plastic water bottle covered in duct tape.

And then there was the ukulele.

She didn’t follow a pattern for the ukulele. She just made it up as she went along, using discarded plastic jugs, rubber bands, and paper towel tubes plucked from the recycling bin.

It didn’t last long, nor did it actually make music. But she had fun making it.

Too bad she didn’t find this video by a man named Colin Webb of Homegrown Guitars. His accent is lovely, and his “shoeboxulele” is amazing. If you don’t have time to listen to him describing the parts he used (scrap wood, toothpicks, and fishing wire attached to the shoebox), at least scroll to 2:37 to hear him play “Has Anybody Seen My Gal?”

Reacting

Last Saturday morning, I dragged myself out of bed, pulled on running clothes, and plodded downstairs to use the “Richard Simmon’s Dreamstepper” I’d purchased used last winter. I know. Go ahead and laugh. Despite the name, it turned out to be a no-frills, functional stair-stepper that helped me get some exercise in the frigid, icy, bleak midwinter, when I wasn’t about to jog outside.

As I mentioned, Saturday morning I wasn’t in the mood to exercise, but I knew I needed to. So I grabbed some books and climbed onto the Dreamstepper and started stepping, stepping, stepping as I read. Yes, I read as I step. Anyway, about ten minutes later, I glanced at the shocks and saw liquid streaming down the metal frame.

Upon closer examination, I realized lubricant was squishing out of the shocks with each step.

Not good.

I phoned the store where I bought it and asked if they had any advice. “Bring it in and let me take a look,” the technician offered. So we hauled it over there, pulled it out of the minivan and set it on the parking lot. The technician climbed on and with the first step, fluid gushed out like a lazy geyser—bloop.

“Whoa!” he exclaimed, jumping off and looking closely. He pressed down on the step and more liquid oozed out the top. “This is shot. There’s no fixing it. It has to be trashed. I can take care of that for you,” he offered.

Sure, but now what?

He offered to discount something in the store to make up for the busted Dreamstepper, so we poked around looking for another stair climbing machine of some sort. They’re usually cheap, because stair-steppers are not very trendy.

Apparently stairsteppers are so out of style, the store didn’t even have one to try.

So we climbed on stationary bikes and ellipticals and pogo sticks and treadmills and one of those mini trampolines. The pogo stick was silly, the mini trampoline was too small, and the treadmill seemed noisy.

But after a few minutes on an elliptical, I started to sense potential. An elliptical could be something on which to cross train—something to get me through the winter months. While adjusting to the fluid motion of the elliptical, I felt like I was hovering, dreamlike—almost flying, like in the bamboo forest scene from “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.”We bought it.

We rarely buy impulsively. We usually spend months researching brands and hunting for coupons or discounts. That day, though, we just did it. We plunked down our credit card and bought an elliptical machine. It’s not a high-end model; in fact, it’s rather simple, slender, and inexpensive. Still, we sort of surprised ourselves by pointing at the machine and saying, “We’ll take it.”

“Today?” the guy asked.

“Today,” I answered. “Right now, before we change our minds. Load it in the van and we’ll drive it home.”

And that afternoon my husband, with help from the girl who constructs helmets out of duct tape, assembled the machine. It’s the first piece of exercise equipment we’ve purchased new, unless you count running shoes and soccer balls.I used it this morning, thinking how fun it feels to wake up and fly.

Writing

On Facebook, my friend Lloyd Work reminded me how fun it is to write haikus by posting this:

Haikus are easy.

But sometimes they don’t make sense.

Refrigerator.

So I am writing some haikus, too. Three lines: first is 5 syllables, second is 7, third is 5.

a powerful forcewind gusts strip leaves from maplebare trunk stands exposed

flickering candleone lone flame brightens the roomwe are not alone

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Credits:

Photos: Octopus image by Sophie Marie. All other images by Ann Kroeker. All rights reserved.

Book: Sanders, Scott Russell. Staying Put: Making a Home in a Restless World. Boston: Beacon Press, 1993. Print. (Amazon Associates Link)

The post Curiosity Journal: November 9, 2011 appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

While wiping the counters, I watched him, debating whether or not to say something. Should I recommend a better way?

My mind flashed to a summer day at the farm house where I grew up. After Dad and my brother finished mowing near the house, my job was to sweep the grass clippings from the back porch, a concrete slab about four by six feet.

I grabbed the straw broom from behind the door and started sweeping. I probably wasn’t working very quickly; I was likely daydreaming. I might have been gripping the broom awkwardly, sliding it across the concrete in wide, inefficient motions.

Suddenly, a shout. “Not like that!” Dad yanked the broom out of my hand. “You’re doing it all wrong! My mother taught me the right way. You have to make quick, short movements like this!”

Flick. Flick. Flick. Flick.

He handed me the broom. While he watched, critiquing, I had to practice it his way—or, rather, his mother’s way—adjusting my motions until I achieved the perfect flick. Finally satisfied, he returned to the mower. I  flicked the broom a few more times for effect, then ran inside and shoved it behind the door.

The grass was gone; so was my self-esteem.

Watching my son in the kitchen as he managed to corral the crumbs, I decided to keep quiet. Perhaps in the years to come he’ll watch others at work and learn to adjust his hold on the handle; or maybe he’ll figure out how to sweep quickly and thoroughly by experimenting on his own.

But for now, he was collecting most of the dirt. Wasn’t that the goal?

Anyway, who was I to criticize? After wiping the counters, I left streaks.

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Related reading at The High Calling: “Do the Job Your Way” by L.L. Barkat.Photo by Ann Kroeker, copyright 2011.

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Yesterday at High Calling Blogs, Michelle of Graceful posted a story about how she was caught fake-listening to her son.

• How often do I tune in or out?
• How guilty am I of fake-listening?
• What are my canned responses “interjected at appropriate moments to maintain the illusion of conversation”?

How often do I tune in or out?This is tricky, because as a work-from-home writer and editor, I don’t keep regular office hours. Worse, my desk is situated in a large shared room with the piano and comfiest couch, so someone is often in the room while I’m tapping away. The result of this arrangement? To get anything done I have to tune out! When I need to work uninterrupted for a chunk of time, I alert the family and they have respected my need to focus.Other times, when I’m doing light editing or answering e-mails, the kids come and go with various requests. Sometimes I’m in the midst of composing an e-mail (or blog post!) and need a few minutes to finish a thought. In those cases, I ask for five minutes to finish so that I can give them my full attention. When they have something to say and I’m able to break away, I do try to swivel away from my laptop in order to look them straight in the eyes.How guilty am I of fake-listening?I grew up with a family member who told and repeated long stories. The stories dragged on and on; as a result, I developed pretty impressive fake-listening skills. I could be generating a storyline in my head and still give the illusion of listening. When I was in top form, this person seemed to believe I was completely engaged, though perhaps the speaker was also pretending—pretending I was listening to the story in order to have an excuse to continue talking. That’s possible. We humans are pretty desperate to be heard. I’m not proud of my fake-listening skills and do not want to be practicing them with my husband and kids.But I have moments. Two of my four kids in particular love to have an ear and can go on and on. I’ve had to snap to attention and get my brain lined up with their stream of words. At the same time, I’m trying to teach one of them to summarize and pick up on clues from others, especially adults, who are trying to break away–important “emotional intelligence” skills to develop in order to relate well to people. What are my canned responses “interjected at appropriate moments to maintain the illusion of conversation”?I share “Really?” “Wow!” and “Hmmmm” with Michelle as three top responses. Maybe even “That’s interesting.”But my top response is “Oh.”I like its versatility. It can be expressed with a hint of surprise: “Oh!”Or it can invite the speaker to elaborate: “Oh?” Sometimes it’s a way to communicate that I get a person’s joke or learned something new: “Ohhhhhh” (a grin and knowing nod accompany this one). In this use, the “Ohhhhhh” occasionally morphs into an “Ahhhhhh.”This handy word (or is it just a sound?) can also acknowledge that I heard them and there’s not much more to say in response other than a simple and earnest, “Oh” (or “Ah”); as in “Oh, I see” or “Ah, yes.”I’ve even noticed one of my kids picking up on this use of “Ah” as a means of acknowledging that he heard and processed my response. For example, today my youngest asked, “What does ‘promote’ mean, Mom?”“We could look it up,” I said, “but it means to cause someone to kind of move up to a better job or position. A boss can promote someone at work.”“Ah.”I admit that my use of “oh” can be a way to fake-listen. But it can also be a legitimate response after truly hearing what my child (or anyone) is saying.Yesterday afternoon I was feeling extremely tired, so I headed up to my bed to lie down for a few minutes. I was planning to let my mind wander a little in the quiet of my room.“Mom?” my son called out to me. “Mom? Where are you?”Sigh.“I’m upstairs.”He bounded up the stairs and stood in the bedroom doorway. “Can I come in?”“Sure.”He slipped to the side of the bed. “Are you okay?” he asked.“I’m fine. I just came upstairs to lie down for a few minutes. You can join me, if you like.” I folded back the covers and scooted over. He climbed in and lay there staring at the ceiling for a minute.“Percy Jackson had to defeat a Hydra in some building in Nashville, Tennessee,” he began, reviewing some key scenes from the movie Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Lightning Thief. “And then he went to some garden where he defeated Medusa.”I was relaxed and reflective, but I was listening. “Hmmmm,” I murmured.“I think it was in Michigan,” he continued, “but I’m not sure.”“That’s interesting,” I replied.“But his mom got out of Hades and he got the lightning bolt back to Zeus.”“Really?”“Yes, and then it ended with him practicing fighting with Athena’s daughter.”“Ohhhhh,” I replied. “That sounds nice. Did he get to meet his dad?”“His dad? Poseidon? Yes, he did.”“Ah.”Same words as my canned responses, but these weren’t canned. I was listening. And in spite of how hot it was that afternoon, I let my son snuggle close and kissed him on the cheek.“listen to me…” photo by Michela Mongardi. Available under a Creative Commons license through Flickr.com.

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It’s easy to subscribe to annkroeker.com updates via email or RSS feed.Visit NotSoFastBook.com to learn more about Ann’s book.

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Throughout spring, my kids would come to me with requests to join their friends on outings such as sleepovers, birthday parties, and a production of “The Three Musketeers,” but I had to say no to almost everything. Something was already scheduled 97 percent of the time.

With spring winding down, however, our schedule is opening up. The kids and I recently reviewed the week’s activities: soccer practice, cleaning day, and an afternoon class that three of them would attend.

My 14-year-old daughter was leaning back in a plastic chair, fiddling with a toy pirate hook as I added that we’d have to leave the house very early one morning.

“Why?” she asked.

“Well,” I began, “Mrs. Huber invited you two older girls to go with her family to King’s Island.”

My daughter leaped up, flinging the plastic hook into the air. “What?!” she exclaimed. “And you’re actually letting us go?”

King’s Island is a big amusement park a couple of hours from our home. “Yes!” I said, grinning. “Yes, I’m letting you go.”

My shocked daughter flopped into her chair. “I can’t believe you actually said yes!” she said. The eldest laughed, incredulous.

Yes. Has it been that long since I said the word? I guess I’d been saying “no” so often these days, I forgot the fun of saying “yes.” In fact, I’ve been saying “no” to almost everything lately, even simple requests.

“Can I have a piece of candy?”

“No, it’s too close to dinner.”

“Can we go to the library?”

“No, not now.”

“May I have a gumball from that machine?”

“No, I don’t have any quarters and you have a bunch of gum at home.”

No. No. No.

For the past few months, “No” became my automatic response. The kids expected it. And the thing is, I’m usually a “yes” kind of mom. Why so much “no”? I thought of Corinne’s recent post framed as a poetic and positive letter to her kids proclaiming the deepest, truest Yes:

While I might often say No, know that my heart always screams Yes for both of you. Yes to your hopes and dreams. Yes to acknowledge your fears and individualism. Yes to you. It’s my mind that gets in the way, that automatically wants to say No, even though it’s unnatural and learned… my heart says Yes a thousand times a day. To getting on the floor and playing for hours at a time, to building forts and to reading the story of the day for the hundredth time.

I wanted to bring back my heart’s “yes.”

Yet, “no” can’t disappear entirely. As Corinne acknowledged, there will be times when we parents say “no”:

“No, you can’t go to a party without adult chaperones.”

“No, you can’t text during dinner because this is a time to talk as a family.”

“No, you can’t watch that show just because your friends do.”

Knowing when to say yes or no takes sensitivity and wisdom. I want to say “yes” when I can and “no” when I must. Sometimes my answer is a thought-out, purposeful, wise and loving “no.” But sometimes it’s a lazy “no.” Falling into the habit of saying “no” to every little thing simplifies some of the work of parenting. After all, decision-making’s a snap when the answer is always negative. But it’s hardly the laughing, loving life I want for our family.

So the day my daughter leaped out of her chair in shock when I said “yes,” I decided to bring a stop to the lazy, automatic “no.”

I said yes when the youngest asked to finish a bag of Skittles.

I said yes to their request for popsicles and play time at the neighbors.

They asked if they could make Kool-Aid. I said yes.

They wanted to play in the sprinkler. I said, “Yes, if you put your swimsuits on.” Later I wished I had simply said yes. Their play clothes could have gotten wet.

That night, my husband said yes when the girls asked to go to the store to shop for a pair of summer shorts. When they got home, the girls wanted to play a computer game for half an hour. He said yes.

I will say “yes” as often as I can.

Yes, climb that tree in the back yard and use the old blankets in the garage to make a tent on the clothes line.

Yes, let’s go to the library three times this week, pick daisies for a bouquet, and buy one box of Cocoa Puffs cereal, just for fun.

Spread out some newspapers and pull out the paint-by-numbers. Make a batch of brownies. Use up the leftover icing in the fridge. Roll down the hill and wade in the creek.

And yes, you may have a 25-cent gumball from the machine at the grocery. All four of you. Yes, even the teens.

While we’re at it, I might even get one for myself.

Because I like this. Yes, I like this a lot.

* * *

Post originally published at The High Calling.

The post Time for Yes appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

1. Hosting: We’re hosting out-of-country guests for several days–my in-laws from Belgium are here! What a privilege to spend time with them, catching up after a long separation (we only see them every few years).
2. 31 Days Project: Several of my friends at HighCallingBlogs.com (HCB) are participating in a 31 Day to Build a Better Blog project. With guests in town during much of the month, I knew I could never keep up. But one of the assignments was the create a list post, so this is mine. I created a list post over at NotSoFastBook.com, as well. Today’s assignment is to join a forum and participate. HCB serves as my forum.
3. End of School Year: Like many of us, I’m wrapping up the 2009-2010 school year. Wrap-up includes work with our homeschool co-op where I facilitate an American Literature class as well as our work at home. In fact, as soon as I publish this post, I’m grading a stack of papers. In addition, invitations to open houses and graduations are rolling in. May is maxed out.
4. Mini Marathon: I mentioned on Twitter here and here and Facebook that our family (except The Boy) finished the Indy 500 Mini Marathon, the nation’s largest half-marathon. The two older girls walked it; the Belgian Wonder and I “wogged” it with our youngest daughter.
5. Ann Kroeker Facebook page: I set up an Ann Kroeker Facebook page (which is unfortunately known as a “fan” page … please don’t think I’m picturing myself as a celebrity with fans!). It’s just a place where anyone can visit me on Facebook. Feel free to pop by and “like” the page. If you do so, updates I post there will show up in your news feed. You don’ t have to friend me on Facebook to follow my updates. Also, you can post your own links and such right on the Ann Kroeker page, so if you have a “slow-down solution” you’ve found, for example, or if you write a relevant blog post, post it there; the Ann Kroeker page can be a place where we connect on that Not So Fast topic, as well other ideas and themes. I’m just starting to tap into its potential and look forward to developing it when I get through May and enter the freer summer months.
6. To Kill a Mockingbird: The last book of the school year that we’re reading for the co-op is To Kill a Mockingbird. Re-reading it for the fourth time with the students, I find myself reading a chapter, slapping the book shut with satisfaction, and shouting “I love this book!” to anyone who happens to be in the vicinity.
7. Teen Driver: My eldest daughter has been driving on her permit for some time, but this Wednesday she takes her official driving test. The following Tuesday she can take her written test. After that, if all goes well, she gets her operator’s license. Don’t be frightened; she’s a pretty good driver.
8. Camera: I was given the gift of a nice new camera at Christmas—a splurge gift that the Belgian Wonder and I have been discussing for years (but never acted on … until now). I don’t have aspirations of gradually upgrading equipment to professional quality; I’m not even a gifted amateur. But even as an average, everyday photographer, I have really loved learning new things as I happily click away. Photoplay tips from the HCB photo editor Claire Burge have inspired, as well. The results motivate me to try new things and shoot even more snapshots of our daily lives. So I just want to publicly thank my husband and the whole family for blessing me, and I hope my experiments bless the six of us with pleasing visual records of this era of our lives. Ironically, I’m not including a photo of the camera; I tried to take one in the mirror, but it didn’t turn out quite right.
9. Speaking: I spoke at St. Mark’s Methodist Church in Carmel, Indiana, a couple of weeks ago. On the weekend of May 22-23, I’ll be interviewed at Grace Community Church in Noblesville, Indiana, on the topic of families slowing down and simplifying enough to nurture a more contemplative life, seeking and submitting to Christ together.
10. “How can I help?”: My father-in-law grew up in what was then the Belgian Congo (now Democratic Republic of Congo, or DRC). We’re looking forward to hearing stories and seeing pictures from a recent trip to DRC. In his travels throughout the cities of Kinshasa, Kikwit, and out into the rural areas of the Bandundu province, he asked the people, “How can we help?” We will get to hear what the people said when my father-in-law posed the question and listened; we will learn how we can help.

I wonder what the world could be like if we all asked that question and listened carefully to the response? How can we help? We could ask it country to country, church to church, neighbor to neighbor, child to parent—anyone to anyone: “How can I help?” Can we try it today, with someone we love? Can we ask with open minds and hearts … and truly listen?

It’s easy to subscribe to annkroeker.com updates via email or RSS feed.Visit NotSoFastBook.com to learn more about Ann’s book.Follow me on twitter.com/annkroeker

The post Ten Random Things I Haven't Mentioned appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

A couple of years ago the kids and I were looking through the purses and bags at Goodwill, and our son announced that he, too, wanted a purse. I suppose he would have been about six years old at the time.A bag of his own could contain his wallet, ChapStick, a notepad and pen, his Nintendo DS—such a practical solution for easy transport! He started poking around the jumble of gently used purses, totes, and shoulder bags, considering the possibilities.His sisters were horrified, but he was determined.I had to decide what to do, what to say. I had to decide quickly…

This is the start of a post at HighCallingBlogs.com today, where I simply set up and highlight someone else’s boy-meets-bag moment of decision. I invite you to slip over and check out the excerpt from her post.

In the meantime, here’s what happened at Goodwill:Parenting is full of little moments like this that sneak up on me. We’re out picking up milk, returning books at the library, or browsing leather handbags at Goodwill—something utterly ordinary and mundane—and next thing you know, something small leaves me prickling with the possibility that the next word I utter or the look on my face will mark a defining moment in my child’s life.Will my reaction to his purse request change how he views the world or people or gender? Or will it amount to nothing?Standing in front of those Goodwill bags beside my son and daughters, I made a decision.“Some men do carry bags to contain their stuff,” I said. The girls conceded that their dad carries a backpack and a brief case … but those bags, they pointed out, were a far cry from a purse.“Some men, like Papa, use a backpack or brief case,” I continued, “but a few do indeed carry a smaller bag the size of a purse.” But I insisted that bags for men are usually a simple style in a quiet color with masculine details, like webbing for the strap, for example, and little in the way of decoration.I let my son have a bag.He narrowed down his selection, and the girls and I urged him to take a small, relatively manly canvas bag in sage green. He agreed to it and uses it to this day for small items.Defining moment? I don’t know about the far-reaching effects, but I can see that it’s practical. He doesn’t drop his DS on the concrete driveway when it’s tucked neatly into his bag, for example, and he can apply his own ChapStick to those frequently dry, cracked lips of his.If anyone questions it, we can always point to his father’s European upbringing (“Man bags are all the rage in France!”). Or maybe we could just rename it a satchel.

It’s easy to subscribe to annkroeker.com updates via email or RSS feed.Visit NotSoFastBook.com to learn more about Ann’s book.Twitter.com/annkroeker

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Here at the Food on Fridays carnival, any post remotely related to food is welcome—it doesn’t have to be a recipe. If you just want to make up a recipe for dog food (I did that when I was about six years old), that’ll do just fine. When your Food on Fridays contribution is ready, just grab the broccoli button (the big one above or smaller option at the bottom) to paste at the top of your post and join us through Mr. Linky.Here’s a Mr. Linky tutorial:

Write up a post, publish, then return here and click on Mr. Linky below. A screen will pop up where you can type in your blog name and paste in the url to your own Food on Fridays post (give us the exact link to your Food on Fridays page, not just the link to your blog).You can also visit other people’s posts by clicking on Mr. Linky and then clicking participants’ names–you should be taken straight to their posts.Please note: I’ll do my best to update this post by hand. In the meantime, please click on the Mister Linky logo to view the complete list.

Food on Fridays Participants

Food on Fridays with Ann

To ensure that I get a Mother’s Day brunch, I decided to go ahead and make a Mother’s Day brunch.

The main dish: Breakfast Sausage Casserole.

Yes, that’s right. Sausage. I’m writing about sausage. Even though L.L. Barkat warned me, I’m all about about sausage today. (I’ll keep an eye on my stats to monitor the sausage effect, L.L.)

Ann’s Mother’s Day Breakfast Sausage Casserole.

This recipe even comes with a complimentary (and complementary) sausage photo:

The recipe is easy, but I didn’t trust my kids to pull it off. Instead, I put it together myself and froze it. Surely they can take it out in time to thaw and bake it?

Here’s the recipe:

Breakfast Casserole

• 1 lb sausage, fried & drained (extra mild or turkey sausage)
• 8 eggs, beaten
• 2 C milk
• 3-4 pieces of bread, torn to bits
• 2 1/2 C grated cheddar cheese
• 1 t salt
• 1 t dry mustard

Mix all ingredients and pour into greased 9×13 glass baking dish. Refrigerate overnight (or not, if in a hurry), so it will congeal and become more firm. Bake at 350° for 45 minutes. Let set a few minutes before serving. Can be made ahead, baked, frozen and reheated.It’s an easy recipe. I even doubled it to share one with a friend.Please note that the cheese is supposed to be mixed together with the other ingredients. I forgot the cheese (who moved my cheese?), so I added it after everything else was in the pan and stirred it in as best I could. It’s a casserole; it’ll blend just fine, right?The kids might have done better after all.Along with the casserole, I’m thinking about coffee cake. Over the years, I’ve collected several recipes, including one for a blueberry coffee cake that I posted last August. I’m not making that ahead of time—hopefully it’ll be easy for the kids to prepare.They can oversee the casserole, mix up the coffee cake, cut up some fruit, make a pot of tea, and we’ll be good to go.For those of you who will be celebrating a mom in your life, I recommend the easy sausage casserole. I’m telling you, nothing says I love you like sausage … unless, of course, your mom’s a vegetarian.As an alternative to coffee cake, I could make a big stack of crepes Saturday evening that can be reheated Sunday morning. Yes, I like crepes. Everyone likes crepes.Mother’s Day is sounding better and better.Nutella, anyone?

It’s easy to subscribe to annkroeker.com updates via email or RSS feed.Visit NotSoFastBook.com to learn more about Ann’s book.

The post Food on Fridays: Mother's Day Make-Ahead Breakfast Sausage Casserole appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

My mom worked as the editor of our local newspaper, covering news all over the county. If a reporter couldn’t make it to an event, Mom would grab her camera, reporter’s pad, and pen—and quite often her daughter—to capture the news herself.

This meant that whether I wanted to or not, I visited sporting events, live nativity scenes, church bazaars, festivals, fairs, horse pulls, pie-eating contests, and a lot of parades. Most kids would relish frequent outings to festivals and fairs, but apparently I grew tired of being dragged from town to town. Even though it was an era when the Girl Scouts and local celebrities riding in Model T cars or standing on floats would heave generous gobs of candy to the spectators, apparently I moaned one time, “Not another parade!” Ah, what a cross I had to bear!

All because my mother was a professional writer and editor; a committed, working journalist.

When she was a child, her dream never wavered: she wanted to write. Mom majored in journalism at university and worked for years at our metropolitan newspaper, The Indianapolis Star, as a writer, editor and columnist. Her work in the lifestyle department allowed her to meet and interview movie stars as they came through town for a show or event. I always enjoyed telling my friends, “My mom met the woman who plays Ethel on ‘I Love Lucy.'” Mom said Vivian Vance was gracious and charming—one of her favorite interviews. And one of the most challenging? Jack Palance.

But continuing to work full-time at the Star became a challenge when my brother was born. When I came along four years later, Mom adjusted her writing life to accommodate motherhood … to accommodate me.

She gave up her work at the Star to take that position at the county newspaper in order to be available to her children; she gave up being the journalist she wanted to be, in order to be the mom she wanted to be. She could have been interviewing movie stars. Instead, Mom stood all day on Mondays, scrambling to get the paper ready, making editorial decisions about which photo of the county fair queen should make the front page, trimming school lunch schedules with scissors and pasting down stories of council meetings and road construction. But because Mom didn’t drive downtown to Indianapolis—because she was willing to work hard at a less prestigious job that was flexible and kept her close by—she was there to cheer me on at softball games and track meets. She could see my plays and band concerts.

She was around for school award ceremonies where I received some minor recognition—nothing newsworthy that would draw a reporter, but Mom would come … as a mom.

And I didn’t appreciate her sacrifice one bit when I was young.

When I was little, I woke up early to watch morning kids’ shows, which would have been limited to Captain Kangaroo, Sesame Street, and a few cartoons. Mom says one morning I slipped into her bedroom in my jammies and asked, “Mommy, can you watch car-coons with me?”

Touched that I requested her presence, she dragged herself out of bed, pulled on a robe, shuffled into the living room, and eased herself onto the green vinyl chair as I snuggled down on her lap.

After a few minutes, I chirped, “That’s good, Mommy. You can go back to bed. The chair’s all warmed up now.”

For a lot of women, it takes becoming a mother to appreciate their mothers. It takes a humbling vinyl chair moment to realize everything our moms put up with.

For me, I think that the tension and pull between motherhood and writing has opened my eyes to my mom’s sacrifices. Mom sought to balance work and motherhood, respecting and honoring both.

Now I’m attempting the same thing.

I’ve grown to appreciate the challenges she faced to make her life work. Mom knows all about “imperfect conditions.” I think I finally feel the pang of those compromises she made, of her grief at the loss of a position that really fit who she was as a writer in order to choose a life that allowed her to be there.

For me.

And my writer-mom has celebrated the life I’ve chosen, as well; also the life of a writer-mom, seeking a both/and instead of an either/or life.

Thanks for modeling how to write in the midst of motherhood, Mom. Thanks for being there.

Thanks for supporting and celebrating my work while carrying on your own. And thanks for loving my biological babies … and appreciating my word-babies.

Happy (early) Mother’s Day!

Visit HighCallingBlogs today for an early Mother’s Day celebration, where you can read a collection of mom-themed vignettes and poems.

The post Celebrating My Writer-Mom appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

If I waited for the perfect conditions to develop my writing life, I’d still be waiting.

Back in the early 1990s, I did manage to explore writing as my work, as a way of life. I wrote and submitted a few magazine articles and met with businesses to launch a career in corporate freelance writing. Then we started our family. Our first three children were born within four years of each other (the fourth came along a few years later).

Consumed by the demands and intensity of young motherhood, I could have shoved my computer screen, pen and notebook into a closet for about twelve years and waited until the conditions were right. I could have waited until my oldest two girls were old enough to babysit the younger two. I could have waited until I had a little office or study or library or nook to call my own. I could have waited until I had long chunks of uninterrupted time.

Instead, I wrote.

I wrote when the kids were napping. I wrote late at night. I wrote in my head when I took them for a walk to the park and scribbled down my ideas when they were eating a snack.

I stole time.

Sometimes I wrote well, but most of what I wrote served as compost, breaking down in my mind, heart, and spirit to feed new and potentially better ideas. Regardless of the quality of what I produced, I wrote. I practiced. I learned.

And I read. With a book tucked in my diaper bag or purse, I could steal a moment now and then to consume some new thought written by authors I respected, whose information I craved, whose ideas would feed the glowing coals of creativity that glimmered softly inside of me as I changed diapers, swept Cheerios and scraped hunks of banana from the high chair tray.

I kept the energy of writing alive during those hectic years, and when the flame flashed, I’d try to grab something on which to write, even if it meant borrowing a crayon and scribble pad that the kids were using for stick-people adventure stories.

This made for a spontaneous, messy writing life. Scraps of paper strewn on the kitchen table or nightstand represented that flash of insight I managed to scratch onto the back of an envelope. Life with newborns and toddlers required tremendous focus and energy, leaving little chance for a regular schedule. I grabbed opportunities when I could, leaving a trail of pens and paper throughout the house and shoved into cup holders in the car.

I identified with other writer-moms, such as Barbara Kingsolver. She would read about rituals of other authors who had seemingly endless time to create the writing mood—hours of photography or flower arranging before sitting at the desk to compose one word. She quoted one author who described his muse at length. Kingsolver, a busy mom with no time for flower-arranging, had to write with the time she was given. She described her own muse:

My muse wears a baseball cap, backward. The minute my daughter is on the school bus, he saunters up behind me with a bat slung over his shoulder and says oh so directly, “Okay, author lady, you’ve got six hours till that bus rolls back up the drive. You can sit down and write, now, or you can think about looking for a day job.” (p. 96, High Tide in Tucson, Barbara Kingsolver)

Kingsolver understands the limitations of motherhood and the challenge of writing in the midst of it. She quotes Lucille Clifton responding to the question “Why are your poems always short?” Ms. Clifton replied, “I have six children, and a memory that can hold about twenty lines until the end of the day.”

Clifton encouraged me to plan out my work mentally while I’m on-the-go, storing up thoughts until the end of the day, when the kids were in bed and the words could spill out.

My kids are much older now; my conditions remain imperfect but are much more conducive to writing. My children are more independent—my oldest has her driver’s permit. But it seems I still have to steal time.

Apparently the conditions for writing will never be perfect.

I need to be reminded of this again and again. Julia Cameron, in The Right to Write says:

The ‘if-I-had-time’ lie is a convenient way to ignore the fact that novels require being written and that writing happens a sentence at a time. Sentences can happen in a moment. Enough stolen moments, enough stolen sentences, and a novel is born–without the luxury of time…

Yes, it is daunting to think of finding time to write an entire novel, but it is not so daunting to think of finding time to write a paragraph, even a sentence. And paragraphs, made of sentences, are what novels are really made of. (p. 14, 15, The Right to Write, Julia Cameron)

This reminds me of a quote I heard at the Festival of Faith & Writing in 2010. Author Parker Palmer said:

If you can’t write a book, write a bunch of essays. If you can’t write a bunch of essays, write a bunch of paragraphs. If you can’t write a bunch of paragraphs, write lines. If you can’t write lines, write some words. And if you can’t write some words, write your truth with your own life, which is far more important than any book. (Parker Palmer at the Festival of Faith & Writing 2010)

Poets, bloggers, novelists, creative nonfiction writers, essayists, letter writers, journalists, composers; we must all get to work. Write a book, essays, paragraphs, lines, or just write a few words, but for heaven’s sake—be sure to write with your life.

No matter what complicates schedules—whether you have a full-time job or you’re a full-time caregiver—write what you can, when you can. Because the conditions are never perfect. 

___________________________________

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The post Imperfect Conditions appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

But it occurred to us one cold winter evening that we only have a few more trips with our almost-16-year-old daughter before she heads off to college, assuming we have the resources. And when we asked where she hoped to go as a family, she confessed that there’s only one place she’s ever dreamed of visiting: Walt Disney World.

I caved.

Instead of packing the camper and driving to a state park for a budget-friendly, spirit-refreshing week of reading and relaxing beach time (a more typical family vacation for us), I said, “Okay, let’s do it. Let’s just go.”

So last week for Spring Break we bought the Unofficial Guide to Walt Disney World, drove a thousand miles to Orlando, stuffed peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches and granola bars into a backpack, laced up our athletic shoes, and took the plunge.

We relied on the touring plans from the Unofficial Guide.I highly recommend that when visiting Walt Disney World (WDW) in peak season, buy the book and follow the plan. If the plan says to walk briskly to one side of the park and grab a FASTPASS, do it. Even if the wait for that ride is only ten minutes, stick to the plan.Otherwise, the park is too full of people trying to do the same thing at the same time. If you don’t follow the plan, you’ll wait in line at some point for two hours (or more) and ride only a few rides all day. It was that full.In fact, the tram operator said they almost closed the parking lot, which is considered full at 75,000 vehicles. He said that they had just under 73,000 that day. It means that at some point, the Magic Kingdom may have been near its capacity of 100,000 people.One hundred thousand people, most of whom want to ride Space Mountain, Splash Mountain and Thunder Mountain at least once.Thanks to the plan, we rode every major ride once and saw most of the shows that interested us.But. Following the plan also meant we arrived at opening and left just before closing, adrenaline surging nonstop as our family of six wove through crowds, stopping only to eat our peanut butter sandwiches on a stone bench outside the Haunted Mansion. While sitting there, we looked up to see a skywriter starting a message.On a different day in a different park, we spotted his handiwork again.That second skywriting message was above Hollywood Studios (a fascinating contrast to see Jesus’ name appearing in the sky over the “Tower of Terror”).We went to all the parks.Even saw a couple of hidden Mickeys, including this one.I took migraine medicine every single day.I let two of my girls spin me around in a teacup on the Mad Hatter’s Tea Party ride and almost fainted when I tried to stand up. Then I almost threw up. I was shaky for hours. Epcot was nice. I liked a ride called “Soarin‘” that simulates a hang-gliding flight over various terrain in California. And I’ve always liked the little boat ride in Mexico. It’s tame, I know, but I needed some tame in the midst of the crushing, manic masses.While the kids rode something called Test Track, I held onto that day’s supply of peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches and read Our Town.Yes, I really read Our Town at Epcot.How high does that score on the nerd-scale?There is something quite charming about watching one’s kids wave at the cheery characters during the parades.But the thing that charmed my son more than anything else—more than meeting Mickey and getting his signature; more than a Mickey pin his bought with his own money—was finding a heart jewel on the ground at the Magic Kingdom.He kept pulling it out of his pocket to turn it over in his hand and hold it up to the light.We warned him that if he kept messing with it, he might lose it.I was so sure he’d drop it, I tried to offer a positive spin by pointing out that if he loses it, he’ll just be passing along the joy of the heart to some other child.But that cheap little plastic heart survived all four of the main parks and two water parks.The heart survived a sloshy side trip into the washing machine and a tumble in the dryer at the place where we stayed.The heart magically made it all the way back home with us in one piece.And, thankfully, so did I.Barely.Thank you for your patience with me. Without a moment to breathe or think during those Disney days, I was unable to write any posts other than those I scheduled ahead of time.

Photos by Ann Kroeker.

It’s easy to subscribe to annkroeker.com updates via email or RSS feed.Visit NotSoFastBook.com to learn more about Ann’s book.

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At HighCallingBlogs.com today, Bradley J. Moore of Shrinking the Camel explores the question, “When is Negative Feedback Too Negative?” He spotlighted my post “Reward the Good and Ignore the Bad: Does it Work?”

We know that unhealthy criticism for no good reason can demoralize. But how do you point out negative behaviors if you want to develop people, to help them reach their full potential?

I’ve been thinking about this topic quite a bit, and his post generated some additional thoughts that I tapped out as a comment and offer here as food for thought:

On the receiving end of critique:

Many years ago, I attended a small group training session. The leader said that one of the critical steps in gaining valuable input from people in the group was to take them out one-on-one and ask each person, “How can I improve as a leader?” Then he said it’s critical to listen without saying one defensive or explanatory word. Just listen and take notes. The person may say something small at first, to test how you’ll respond. Write down the answer, thank them, and ask, “What else?” Little by little you can get great input for how to improve and build trust with the person in your group, demonstrating that you really care about his or her opinion.

I’ve done this with my kids as well as teams I’ve led (usually volunteers in a church setting). When the person offering input sees that you aren’t going to get angry or fall apart, he can feel free to offer invaluable (if painful) information. And because I invited it, it’s easier for me to take to heart. But it’s hard to hear what I’m doing poorly, as a parent or team leader. And it’s really, really hard not to explain or defend myself; but when I refrain from that and just listen, I can consider the critique and figure out if/how to change. My kids have been grateful to have me ask and know that I’m really listening when they offer some of their concerns.

When giving input/critique:

My eldest daughter has her driver’s permit, and I’ve been thinking about and practicing the positive feedback approach with her. Sometimes, however, for safety reasons I simply have to correct and stop a dangerous move; sometimes I simply cannot “ignore the bad.” But I am making a point to identify things she’s doing well, “rewarding the good” by pointing it out with a compliment.

• Check Tone & Motive: When I have to give some negative input–not just when out driving with my daughter, but with anyone–I’m trying to check my tone and my motive, too. I also try to add some explanation as to why the change would be beneficial. And I try to follow up when I see the person change and affirm them.
• In the Context of Trust, Respect & Love: The clicker training mentioned in my original post could be very superficial and only focus on behavior–it may work well for step-by-step training but not for subtle analysis. (Leslie Leyland Fields expresses her concern with actual programs that promote a clicker-training approach to parenting in her post “Training is Not Enough!!“) With my family and friends, I want to be building relationships and reaching their hearts. I want any input to be in the context of trust, respect and love.
• Praise Sandwich/One-Minute Praise: Erin of Together for Good added this:

Not only am I grateful for Erin’s reminder that God roots out the bad–the sin–and that the good in us is a result of His Spirit’s work and strength, but I also really like her idea of “praise sandwiches.” Kenneth Blanchard’s One-Minute Manager advocates “one-minute praise” as immediate and specific as possible. I should note that he also does advocate immediate and specific “one-minute reprimands” followed with a reassuring handshake that affirms the person is valuable to the organization. Blanchard’s three-step “One-Minute Praise” and four-step “One-Minute Reprimand” processes are summarized HERE.

Any human, young or old, can better hear what needs improvement when it’s sandwiched between or at least followed up with what he or she is doing right.

An Atmosphere of Affirmation

I grew up with a lot of negativity, where nothing I did, not even sweeping grass off the porch, could be done to the satisfaction of one of my parents. I longed to hear something good reinforced, but most of the input I received was criticism. As a result, I developed a skewed image of myself. Developing my identity in that atmosphere of negativity, I couldn’t come close to reaching my full potential; I was plagued with self-doubt and insecurity.

Now, as a mom, I think I’m extra tuned-in to this topic because I really want to figure out what works and how I can offer input that is both loving and beneficial. I want my children to flourish in an environment that is predominately positive. And when I must correct, I want them to hear the truth spoken … in love.

I agree with Erin that none of us is innately “good,” that we are lost without our Savior, and that we must watch out for pride. But I also know firsthand the crippling effects of criticism and negativity.

When I do point out a fault in my kids or offer some criticism or correction, I want to follow up with a hug—the family version of Blanchard’s handshake—so that each child knows he or she is loved no matter what. And as I mentioned above, I want to be open to their own critique of me. If I model gentle, loving correction, perhaps they’ll go easy on me when I ask how they feel I could improve as a parent!

If I’m going to err in a direction, I want it to be in the direction of affirmation and praise.

The post An Atmosphere of Affirmation appeared first on Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach.

Here at the Food on Fridays carnival, any post remotely related to food is welcome—your link could be your favorite lentil soup recipe, but it doesn’t have to be a recipe. If it’s about shopping at Aldi’s or you want to share your plans for Lent, go ahead and link up!When your Food on Fridays contribution is ready, just grab the broccoli button (the big one above or smaller option at the bottom) to paste at the top of your post and join us through Mr. Linky.Here’s a Mr. Linky tutorial:

Write up a post, publish, then return here and click on Mr. Linky below. A screen will pop up where you can type in your blog name and paste in the url to your own Food on Fridays post (give us the exact link to your Food on Fridays page, not just the link to your blog).You can also visit other people’s posts by clicking on Mr. Linky and then clicking participants’ names–you should be taken straight to their posts.Please note: I return when possible during the day and update this post by hand to include a list of the links provided via Mr. Linky. If I can’t get to the computer to do so, you may access them all by clicking on the Mister Linky logo.

Food on Fridays Participants

Food on Fridays with Ann

Valentine’s Day tradition at the Kroeker house is to have a family feast.We make a big meal, set the dining room table with a red or pink tablecloth and good china, light candles, turn on some fun music, and pass around homemade Valentine’s cards.After the meal, we take turns sharing at least one thing we enjoy, love or admire about each person in the family.Our hope is to create a tradition that the kids look back on with fondness and look forward to with joy, knowing that they are loved and accepted no matter what…that there will always be a Valentine in their mailbox.The main dish for our feast is a crock pot recipe for chicken. The original recipe is HERE, but we modified it and took the liberty of coining a much more satisfying name:Hoosier Comfort Chicken (crock pot recipe)

• 8 boneless, skinless chicken breast halves (we slice them again into smaller pieces)
• 8 strips bacon (one slice for each piece of chicken, so you’ll need more if you cut the breasts into smaller pieces)
• 1 cup sour cream
• 1 can condensed cream of chicken soup (or I’ve substituted a from-scratch version made with flour and oil, adding chicken broth and some cream)
• 1 jar dried beef (the original calls for it, but we leave it out, sometimes substituting additional bits of bacon instead)

Preparation:Wrap a strip of bacon around each piece of chicken breast. Line bottom of crock pot with cut up chipped beef (you can substitute bits of bacon if you don’t use the beef…or skip altogether). Place the chicken breast halves or pieces on the chipped beef. Combine sour cream and soup; pour over the chicken. Bake in crock pot on low 6-8 hours or until chicken is cooked. (You can bake this in a baking dish in the oven; the cooking time is about 2 hours at 300º and bacon may get more crispy.) Serve on cooked egg noodles.Happy Valentine’s Day!

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Photo by HCB-network member nAncY of Just Say the Word.

“Hammers on Black.” Just Say the Word. 7 January 2010. Web. 27 Jan. 2010. <http://justsaytheword.wordpress.com/2010/01/07/1929/>.

It’s easy to subscribe to annkroeker.com updates via email RSS feed.Visit NotSoFastBook.com to learn more about Ann’s book.

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One morning I spied my son sitting on one of the kitchen chairs, his toes easily touching the floor. I stopped and stared. Something about his posture and those long, lean legs … for a moment, backlit by the morning sun, my eight-year-old boy looked like a teenager.Now, I was a little groggy, which may have added to the effect, but the thought of him that much older made my heart gasp.I didn’t mention it to him at the time. I just moseyed across the room to make my pot of tea. But later in the day, while visiting the library, we stepped into the elevator and I told him.“This morning when I saw you sitting at the kitchen table, I thought, ‘Wow, he looks like a teenager.’”He laughed.I continued, “I feel like I’m just going to *blink* and you’ll be all grown up.” I squeezed my eyes shut and popped them open wide for dramatic effect.He giggled. Goofy mom…

Today at HighCallingBlogs (HCB) I wrote about how quickly the kids seem to grow and how little we can do to stop it.But I found some writers in the HCB network who seem to know how to slow down and take it all in, experience life through all senses, and relish each moment. I invite you to slip over to HighCallingBlogs.com and read my story along with excerpts of theirs and then let me (and HCB readers) know your secret: How do you take in life when it wants to race forward in a *blink*?How do you relish each moment?In the midst of a life that refuses to slow down, how do you slow yourself?I told my kids about my story, describing how I feel that in a  *blink*, they’re all grown up. Their advice?“Don’t blink!”Read “It Happens in a Blink” HERE.

“Long legs” photo © 2010 by Ann Kroeker.

Mega Memory Month January 2010 has returned!

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I’m doing the best I can!

How many of us are feeling that we’ve done our best and yet let someone down? How many of us are longing for forgiveness or to be understood, appreciated, and accepted unconditionally when we drop the ball? I wonder if my boy—if all of us—are asking, Will you love me even though I messed up?My dear boy, the world will be fickle.When you stop the ball as goalie, the world will cheer—but don’t be surprised if they jeer when one gets through. As you experienced, your own team may indeed criticize you and tear you down. It’s sad, but it may have happened. It may happen again.Don’t be like the world.Cheer when another goalie on your team stops the ball, but be sure to encourage him if one slips through.Tell him what you wish you had heard. “It’s okay! You’re doing great! I know you’re doing your best!”Cheer for your teammates who score, even if they hogged the ball and kept you from having a chance. “Way to go! Good shot!”And here’s the thing: don’t let the world define your worth.Whether you’re doing your best or messing around. Whether you score or let the other team score. It’s not about your performance.You are loved.No matter what.

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see below for alternative button

At Make-Do Mondays, we discuss how we’re simplifying, downsizing, repurposing, buying used, and using what we’ve got.It’s a carnival celebrating creative problem-solving, contentment, patience and ingenuity. To participate, share your own make-do solution in the comments or write up a Make-Do Mondays post at your blog, then return here to link via Mr. Linky. Enjoy others’ ideas by clicking on Mr. Linky and then clicking on people’s names.Here’s a mini-tutorial on Mr. Linky:

Click on the icon and a separate page will pop up. Type in your blog name and paste in the url of your new Make-Do Mondays post. Click enter and it should be live. If it doesn’t work, just include the link in the comments.

To visit people’s posts or check that yours worked, click on Mr. Linky and when the page comes up, click on a name. You should be taken right to the page provided.

Make-Do Mondays with Ann

Birthdays are almost always make-do events for us.

As you may recall from Food on Fridays, my son wanted to offer several different desserts for his birthday party in lieu of cake.

So I made a humble pumpkin pie, which became the pie of honor.

The crust wasn’t very artistic, but it tasted fine.

I made a coffee cake, which we renamed “crumble cake.” This was for marketing purposes, because some family members wouldn’t touch a dessert if a speck of coffee could be found in it. But I started preparing it a little too late in the morning. I mixed and assembled it, but didn’t have time to bake it before we had to leave.

The cake was transported to my parent’s house in batter form inside a cooler. I baked it upon arrival, but the crumble topping had already sunk into the cake. The surface looked something like an anthill.

I’ve never made a berry pie before. I watched my sister-in-law make a berry tart one time, so instead of making a pie, I used this tart recipe and made one for the first time ever.

Again, it wasn’t spectacular, but it was okay.

I did my best to create per the requests of my little boy, and he was pleased.

In fact, he ate two pieces of pie.

As we were in the car driving to my parents’ house, I started to worry I’d forgotten something that he’d requested.

I reviewed our plans. “We have the pies and crumble cake, we have the gifts, we have swimsuits for swimming,” I said. “Are we forgetting anything for your birthday? Anything you had in mind?”

He paused for a moment, then replied, “We’re forgetting how great it is that Grandma and Grandpa are hosting this today! We’re forgetting the love!“

For all those who make-do on birthdays or any day, please … don’t forget the love.

How do you make do?

If the main button is too big, try this one:

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(alternative button below)

Here at the Food on Fridays carnival, any post remotely related to food is welcome. Recipes are enjoyed, but you can write about your favorite international food or link to a canning video on YouTube.In other words, the Food on Fridays parameters are not at all narrow. I think of it as a virtual pitch-in where everyone brings something to share; even if the content of one item is unrelated to the rest, we sample it all anyway and have a great time.When your Food on Fridays contribution is ready, just grab the broccoli button (the big one above or the new smaller option at the bottom) to paste at the top of your post and join us through Mr. Linky.Here’s a Mr. Linky tutorial:

Write up a post, publish, then return here and click on Mr. Linky below. A screen will pop up where you can type in your blog name and paste in the url to your own Food on Fridays post (give us the exact link to your Food on Fridays page, not just the link to your blog).You can also visit other people’s posts by clicking on Mr. Linky and then clicking participants’ names–you should be taken straight to their posts.Please note: I return when possible during the day and update this post by hand to include a list of the links provided via Mr. Linky. If I can’t get to the computer to do so, you may access them all by clicking on the Mister Linky logo.

Food on Fridays Participants

1. Premeditated Leftovers (broiled cherry tomatoes)
2. e-Mom (outrageous cupcake art)
3. Frugal Antics of a Harried Homemaker (home canned salsa)
4. At Home ‘N About (ham ‘n cola)
5. Feels Like Home (sandwich ideas)
6. Kitchen Stewardship (packing a reduced waste lunch)
7. Inside the White Picket Fence (fried ice cream)
8. Hoosier Homemade (freezing sweet corn)
9. Hoosier Homemade (blueberry cupcakes)
10. Cook with Sara (hot fudge sauce)
11. Finding Joy in my Kitchen (ratatouille)
12. Simply Sugar and Gluten-Free (simple oven-baked brown rice)
13. Twirl and Taste (Kennedy irish potato cakes)
14. Newlyweds! (sangria)
15. the Finer Things in Life (crescent taco bake)
16. Heart ‘N Soul Cooking (glazed pear shortcake)
17. A Welcoming Heart (Mexican pot roast)
18. Not the Jet Set (peach syrup)
19. Leftovers On Purpose (easy sausage & cheese balls)
20. Unfinished Mom (make your own yogurt)
21. Jean Stockdale (Watergate salad)
22. Frugal Homemaking (chicken chow mein)
23. Katrina’s Home (Anzac biscuits)
24. Gathering Manna (God speaks through fountain drinks)

Food on Fridays with AnnMy little boy is turning eight years old very soon.He’s been planning his birthday for months. His top concern? He wants all of the family members who are coming to have a very good time. He doesn’t want anyone to be left out of anything. He wants everyone to be happy.One of his cousins isn’t crazy about chocolate or cake, so the birthday boy has been trying to come up with a dessert that everyone will enjoy.He loved the coffee cake I made, so he wrote a letter to his eight-and-a-half-year-old cousin (even though he could have phoned or sent an e-mail) asking if that would be a good option. “Do you like coffee cake?” he asked.The cousin wrote back a cute note and added at the very bottom of page two, “p.s.s.s. I like pie.”The birthday boy was ecstatic. “Pie!” he exclaimed, waving the letter. “He said he likes pie!” Now the birthday boy is confident he can serve a dessert that will make his cousin happy. It’s a birthday wish come true—the potential for happiness all around at his party!He is so relieved! Now everyone can have something they enjoy!This means, however, that I have to make three different desserts.But, you know, he asks for so little.His biggest birthday hope is that everyone will be happy. If three different desserts can increase the odds of that happening, I’ll be honored to spend a few hours in the kitchen this weekend preparing some coffee cake and pies.The final dessert menu for his birthday party:

• Coffee cake: half with blueberries; half without (the birthday boy is not fond of blueberries)
• Pumpkin pie (the birthday boy’s favorite pie)
• Berry pie. I might make this blueberry pie, though I have a bag of frozen raspberries and could do a mixture. Thoughts? Advice? Winning recipes? What’s the happiest berry pie you’ve ever made?

(a slightly smaller Food on Fridays button)

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(location: Muskegon State Park, Michigan)

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(photo credit: stock.xchng)

I was interviewed by phone about Not So Fast on a station in Minneapolis, MN, for the “Live! with Jeff & Lee” show.(Wait, let’s pause for a second to count how many prepositional phrases I packed into that first sentence. What’s your count? I think it’s six if you count the one that squeezes in with the name of the show. And the sentence isn’t even that long. Okay, well, I’m leaving it that way. Moving on…)It’s hard to know what to cover during these interactions. The book tackles a wide range of topics, but we only have time to talk about a few things on the air.If you’re curious, you can listen to the MP3 archive HERE.

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Vote in the “Name That Boy” contest until 9:00 EDT Saturday a.m.!

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Join Mega Memory Month for the month of July!Check out today’s Progress Reports

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On the off chance that your child would utter the words “I’m bored” at some point this summer, here are some websites with creative ideas:

• 100 More Things To Do When You’re Bored: Summer Edition (some of her ideas are geared for an older child, but could be done with mom & younger child)
• How to Have Fun with Your Kids
• 101 Summer Ideas (the flashing sunshine clipart is really annoying, but the ideas are good)

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Write up a post, publish, then return here and click on Mr. Linky below. A screen will pop up where you can type in your blog name and paste in the url to your own Food on Fridays post (give us the exact link to your Food on Fridays page, not just the link to your blog).You can also visit other people’s posts by clicking on Mr. Linky and then clicking participants’ names–you should be taken straight to their posts. 

 Food on Fridays Participants

1. The Finer Things in Life (Act Your Age Cupcakes)
2. Cooking during Stolen Moments (Sausage Smothered White Beans)
3. Practically Perfect Life (TVP Cooking)
4. Stretch Mark Mama (Oven Baked Chicken Parmesan)
5. Inside the White Picket Fence (Angelfood Cake with Meringue Frosting)
6. A High & Noble Calling (Chocolate Eclair Squares)
7. Hoosier Homemade (Chicken ‘n’ Noodles)
8. Gravity of Motion (Food Funny–Cheetos)
9. Newlyweds! (Crock Pot Pinto Beans)
10. Better Is Little (Breakfast Cookies)
11. It’s All About Love (Eating Out–19th Century Style)
12. (Missed updating this on last week’s Food on Fridays) It’s Frugal Being Green (30 Quick, Green, and Frugal Meal Planning Resources)
13. (Missed updating this, as well) Beauty in the Mundane (Roast Beef with New Potatoes)

Food on Fridays with AnnThe Belgian Wonder and kids have come up with a simple menu for Mother’s Day that they can handle preparing on their own, freeing me to sit on the couch and eat bonbons with my mom and sister-in-law.However, as I thought about foods that I love, quiche popped into my head.Quiche is not on the menu.Next thing I knew, I craved it (quichequichequichequichequichequiche). But the kids don’t know how to make it. Neither does the Belgian Wonder.But I do.So I’m going to just do it. I’m making myself Mother’s Day quiche.I’m thinking about a spinach and cheese quiche.Or maybe Quiche Lorraine?If I keep the filling as simple as cheese only, though, maybe the kids will try it.On the other hand, I might want it all to myself; if so, I should probably make shrimp quiche.Any favorite quiche recipes out there? I’m obviously undecided and would welcome input.What’s on your Mother’s Day menu? Are you making yourself quiche? Or are you enjoying a swanky champagne brunch that culminates with a chocolate fountain flowing beside mountains of fresh strawberries? 

More Friday Carnivals (new links added this week)

• Hooked on Houses hosts Hooked on Fridays
• Anne Glamore at My Tiny Kingdom is hosting Flashback Fridays
• The Inspired Room is hosting A Beautiful Life
• Amber at the run-a-muck is hosting Friday Funnies
• Frugal Fridays at Life as Mom
• The Grocery Cart Challenge Recipe Swap
• 7 Quick Takes Friday, hosted by Conversion Diary
• Aloha Friday, hosted by An Island Life
• Favorite Ingredients Friday, hosted by Overwhelmed With Joy
• Fifi’s Fashionable Friday, hosted by Fifi Flowers Design Decor
• Finding Freedom, hosted by Cents to Get Debt Free
• Finer Things Friday, hosted by The Finer Things in Life
• Four Foods On Friday, hosted by Fun, Crafts and Recipes
• Friday Felicities, hosted by beckyperry.us
• Friday Fill-Ins
• Friday Show and Tell, hosted by Canada Girl
• Photo Story Friday, hosted by What Works For Us
• Say It Forward Friday, hosted by 5 Minutes For Mom

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Teach me your way, O LORD,and I will walk in your truth; give me an undivided heart, that I may fear your name. To walk in the truth, I need wisdom and guidance. I need to learn from the Master. In fact, I need the Lord Himself.Together, the kids, the Belgian Wonder and I are seeking Him, depending on Him, asking Him to teach us His way and give us an undivided heart. By His grace and leading, we hope to be walking in the truth.Our Boy wrote an e-mail to his grandparents in Belgium, asking about their favorite Bible verse. Grandma Kroeker wrote back that this has been one of her favorites since she was a little girl:

Trust in the LORD with all your heartand lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge himand he will make your paths straight.(Proverbs 3:5-6 NIV)

Dependency. I think that’s how we have a chance at walking in the truth—to depend on Jesus and trust in Him with our whole heart.

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Frenzied families find themselves fragmented in this high-speed, fast-paced, goal-oriented society. Even while racing to second jobs, appointments, lessons, practices, games and clubs, we crave an antidote. How do we counteract the effects of our over-committed culture? Replenish our depleted selves? Restore our rushed relationships?Not So Fast: Slow-Down Solutions for Frenzied Families offers hope to families struggling with hurried hearts and frantic souls. Through stories, practical ideas, insight and research, readers will discover the rejuvenating power of an unrushed life.

I’m imagining the day the book is available to future readers—it still seems kind of far away, but it’ll be here soon enough:The release date is August 1st.We still have to wait a while, but as the author of a book on slowing down, I don’t feel free to complain when things take time.I’m telling you kind of early. In fact, now you’ll have to wait, too.But I wanted you to be among the first to know.

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To participate in Make-Do Mondays, simply join in the discussion via the comments or Mr. Linky.

The Mr. Linky for WordPress.com isn’t as robust as the version that Typepad and Blogger can use, but I’m making do in all kinds of ways. Even with blog technology.

Here’s how Mr. Linky works:Click on the Mr. Linky icon, and a separate page will pop up where you type in your name and paste in the url of your new Make-Do Mondays post. Click enter and it should be live. If it doesn’t work, just include the link in the comments.To visit people’s posts, click on Mr. Linky and when the page comes up, click on a name. You should be taken right to the page that they provided.Make-Do Mondays Participants

1. citystreams (easy child-proof solution–for a while)
2. Ship Full O’ Pirates (T-shirt sewing-machine cover & curtains)
3. My Daily Round (homemade mayonnaise)
4. Judith Coughlin (getting motivated to exercise)
5. The Goat (buy once–use twice)

Make-Do Mondays with AnnToday’s make-do post is simple:Cards.The kids have started playing several card games (and taking photos of their favorite decks).They like a game called Spoons, another they call Nerts (making-do using normal cards, of course, not the commercial version), and even simple games like Go Fish and War.Most of these games expand to accommodate multiple players. A deck can be tossed into a purse or backpack without weighing anybody down. No cords or batteries are needed. Some games teach strategy and math skills. And quite often some interaction is possible during play.Pretty nice benefits from a low-tech, low-cost, make-do activity.We all played a card game together at my parents’ house the other day. Three generations gathered around a table laughing, strategizing and talking–it provided make-do fun for everyone.I think we were building a memory.And all we needed was a deck of cards.

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Share your stories—no matter how raw or difficult. Share you concerns—no matter how foolish they may seem. Share your wisdom—no matter how you came by it. Share your mother story. The only request? Start the letter “Dear Mother” and sign it. I will compile all of the letters in a Christmas book for my wife.

In response, many mothers’ hearts stream down the comments under this post at the site. You can submit your Mother Letter there, but apparently many others have been submitted to him via e-mail, as well. And some, like the one I’m offering, are also posted at the blog of the letter’s author.As his invitation has spread across the mama-blogosphere, moms are offering what bits of wisdom and insight they’ve gained thus far in their parenting adventure. And I can’t help but think of the lesson I was reminded of in my recent moment of Ann-insecurity (would that be “Annsecurity”?)–that all the different stories and bits of advice are a reminder that motherhood is a multi-faceted, personal-yet-communal experience. Many stories should be told, because the specifics of one personal revelation may be just what’s needed for another mom to be encouraged.In other words, just as both Anns (this Ann and that Ann) along with thousands of other Anns and Susans and Helens and Elizabeths have blogs reflecting their unique ways of thinking and communicating, every mom has a letter to write to this mother.If you haven’t yet composed your mother letter, please consider participating. I know I’d love to read your letter, so I’m sure this woman, the recipient-Mother of The Mother Letter Project, will be blown away. Wouldn’t you like to be part of that?Here’s the letter I composed. I wanted to share it with you, as well.

Dear Mother,*Blink*That’s how fast it happens. I’m sure you’ve noticed it. When you brought home your newborn, you probably fell into some kind of rhythm and routine. Next thing you know…*Blink*Baby starts rolling over. And crawling.*Blink*Now he’s toddling and talking.*Blink*First day of first grade: he climbs onto the school bus with a cartoon-emblazoned lunchbox in hand, turns around to wave, smiles and “catches” every kiss you blow.*Blink*Eighth grade: he shuffles onto the school bus jamming to an iPod and glances back, hoping you don’t embarrass him publicly.*Blink*“Mom, can I have the car keys?”*Blink*You’re shopping for extra-long twin sheets for dorm room beds.Okay, I’m only speculating about the car keys and sheets. I’m not quite there yet—but it’s coming. Soon.I know, because…I’ve blinked.*Blink*Other moms warned me about the mom-blink.“Enjoy them while they’re little,” they’d advise. “Savor every moment now, because you just blink, and…oh, they grow up so fast!”I appreciated the sentiment, but no one would tell me how.How was I supposed to savor changing three-ton diapers, mopping spit-up off the kitchen floor and chasing after my toddler only to find him splashing his hands in the toilet water?How was I supposed to enjoy them while facing a mountain of laundry, and I was so tired the only way I could keep my eyes open was to prop them up with toothpicks and guzzle a jug of black tea…how?I’m the mother of two teens, an 11-year-old and a seven-year-old. So I can attest to what those moms were saying: they do grow up in the blink of an eye.Now I would like to offer something no one managed to pass on to me—an idea of how to enjoy and savor the kids while they’re little.I suppose it sounds like a no-brainer, but here it is:Slow down.Does that sound obvious? Forgive me, but it took me a little while to “get it.”I had to choose to slow down enough to look each child in the eye.I had to remember to slow down enough to smile…to laugh…to relax…to breathe deeply.In the early days of parenting, I wasn’t slowing down enough to listen to what my girls were really saying. I needed to learn to ask a follow-up question and listen a little longer.I grew to love slowing down enough to read a story… slowly…more than once.To play UNO and Monopoly. That takes a while!I love living slowly enough to sit down for a meal…at the table…and give thanks.You may already slow down enough to let your kids enjoy some free time to play uninterrupted. You’ve seen them build an imaginary fortress or fairy land, and your schedule may be flexible enough to just hang out with them and watch them build. Instead of dragging them off to the umpteenth organized activity, you may be living slowly enough to take them sledding.No, wait a minute. If you’re already living that slowly, you know you can let your husband take them sledding.While you sit and sip hot tea.And while you’re sitting there sipping tea, or coffee, or chai—not because you need the caffeine, but to enjoy the flavor and the smell and the feel of the warm mug against your hands—you yourself are slowing down. You’re stopping…stopping to savor these moments of motherhood that race past in a blink.When you slow down like that, when for a few minutes you forget Mount Laundry and the blob of spit-up on the kitchen floor, life isn’t such a blur.Living a slower life, you can see things more clearly. You’ll sit in the quiet and look out the window—really look—at the snow angels and lumpy snowmen formed by mittened hands in the back yard.You can feel.You can pray for your children…for their hearts, their souls, their just-a-blink-away futures.And when you do this, when you slow down like this, it’s okay to go ahead and blink. You can even shut your eyes for a few minutes and recall a look or a lisp or a laugh. You aren’t missing anything at all.Enjoy the peace.Later, you’ll open your eyes when the kids and your husband tumble in the back door, chunks of snow dropping from their snowsuits and boots…they’ll beg you for hot chocolate and popcorn. You’ll look at their pink-cheek grins and chattering teeth and crazy hair smashed and smooshed by their knit caps, and you’ll sigh. This. This is what those moms meant. And thank the Lord your life was slow enough to see it and savor it…and so was theirs.This is how.We all know that they grow up fast.All the more reason to slow down.Merry Christmas!Ann Kroeker

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• Quick-n-easy: The paper chain. You can quickly cut and staple one together with the kids’ help right this minute with whatever paper you have on hand.
• You can add Scripture to the chains like this site suggests.
• You can add Advent activity ideas to the chains (or to any other countdown concept you’ve created.)
• Pre-made countdown calendars filled with toys or chocolates. These may be on sale at this point.
• Teachingmom.com offers a clickable Advent calendar. Click on the day for readings and resources right at your fingertips. I haven’t gone through each day’s offerings, but the first ones I explored looked very helpful.
• Here is a very pretty, simple, homemade countdown concept that uses envelopes or matchboxes, Inside each of the 25 is an activity; one per day. She includes the ideas, some of which are warm-weather-oriented.
• For even more family activity ideas, here’s a list at We are THAT family.
• We created a countdown by setting up a nativity set with the stable on one end of a table and Mary and Joseph (without Jesus) on the other end. The kids set up a path of 25 small stones and take turns moving Mary and Joseph one stone per day, heading slowly toward Bethlehem. The wise men hang out on a set of shelves in another part of the room. The shepherds, sheep, cow and donkey can be moved within the scene wherever the children wish, but Mary and Joseph must only move to that day’s stone. On Christmas morning, Mary and Joseph arrive in the stable and Jesus appears in the manger, where the shepherds, animals and angels gather. The wise men and their camels show up later, on Epiphany, January 6. Here’s a snapshot of the humble scene (the tan fabric is covering a bowl turned upside-down to create a “hill” where the shepherds are abiding and keeping watch over their flock):

• My in-laws bought us a beautiful book of devotionals to use throughout Advent along with a recording of Handel’s Messiah. The entries are not geared for young kids, but can be creatively simplified. The photos and artwork are fabulous.
• Cookie Countdown: Bake your favorite sugar cookies and write numbers in icing, 1-to-25 (enough for each member of the family). Freeze. Pull out the appropriate cookie each day while preparing dinner and have one for dessert.
• This isn’t exactly a countdown, but for personal or family worship, you can use Phyllis Tickle’s Divine Hours, which simplifies the idea of fixed-hour prayer by providing prayers you can use morning, noon, evening and at bedtime throughout the Advent season (and beyond). Here’s a handy online version of the book’s text. (I think you’ll have to type in your time zone and then it’ll automatically bring up the prayer for that time of day. And, by the way, I can’t vouch for the rest of the site.)
• Taking the idea of having activities on each day of the countdown, here’s a way to zero in on one specific type: you could write a loving note (or kids could draw pictures) to send to someone different every day of the 25 (or remaining) days of the countdown. Ideas for letter recipients? Friends, family, soldiers, teachers, doctors, pastors, etc.
• An educational BBC “Bach” countdown calendar. Click, listen each day, and learn! It’s not always spiritual, but could be the perfect online Advent pitstop for the autodidact.
• Pretty pictures with a verse behind virtual doors, if you want something computer-generated and simple.
• Click on each day for creative recipes, crafts, activities, songs. Don’t try to do them all–just drop in to visit, and pick and choose what might work for your available time and family personality.

The Advent Wreath

• Ken Collins has a nice explanation about the Advent wreath and what the candles can represent.
• We like the Advent wreath concept, with light increasing week after week. It pulls us together to sit and talk about Jesus. Because I’m disorganized and inefficient, I invent readings every year. My justification for this lack of continuity is that I’m seeking to gear it to the kids’ ages and developmental stages, which change year after year; but I’ve really just failed to pull it all together in a notebook that I can conveniently reference. Here’s our wreath — I bought the base from Michael’s eight or so years ago and decorated it with whatever stuff they had on sale at that moment. The white candle was the “unity” candle at our wedding, now serving as the yearly “Christ candle.”

Jesse TreeI like the idea of looking back to what the prophets wrote that Jesus fulfilled. The Jesse Tree is a way to add symbols throughout Advent that help families see how it all fits together.

• Shannon at Rocks In My Dryer has a simple description of the Jesse Tree.
• Another more in-depth explanation.
• You and/or your kids can make the symbols, or print them off in color here.
• The Ragamuffin Diva is making her own Catholic-inspired, very artistic, collage-ish symbols and posting photos. Here are two random examples from her growing collection:  The Fall, and The Flood.
• This Catholic resource explains the symbols simply.
• More printable symbols in pdf format.
• More ideas for making your own, many of them more 3-D.

Other Collections

• Lent & Beyond: An Anglican Prayer Blog has collected links — so many that I haven’t yet previewed them all, but I see some overlap with links that I’ve landed on.
• Ten O’Clock Scholar’s Carnival of Anglican Advent Traditions

Miscellaneous Fun:

• Rachel Anne’s annual Cookie Decorating Party

I prefer to minimize the commercialism and add some Christ-centered symbolism and content (as well as some fun!) to our celebration. And these are some suggestions toward a more meaningful Advent.What Advent or Christmas traditions do you enjoy?

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You are cordially invited by L.L. Barkat to join a Thanksgiving Celebration. Just post about a Thanksgiving memory, something you are thankful for this year, a special family Thanksgiving tradition, your favorite “thanksgiving” bible verse, or anything else you can dream up.Be serious, spiritual, creative, beautiful, humorous, whatever… it’s a celebration and good celebrations welcome all kinds of expression!As a token of thanks for joining us, L.L. will link to you in the Thanksgiving Celebration post (and Christianity Today and High Calling Blogs will link back to said post, so their readers can check out the full celebration). You can make L.L.’s link-love job easier by dropping a comment at the Thanksgiving Celebration post. See you at the pie table!To participate in the Thanksgiving Celebration:1. post your Thanksgiving reflection with the invitation above and this little list of two2. send the invitation to 5 or more friends (or just stash it in your cyber-drawer as a keepsake and take another bite of pie)

Speaking of pie…Mmm….this was taken two years ago.I hope we can consume a similar set of goodies this year, when family and friends will gather at our home to share the feast.We bought a turkey so big, it may require a small crane to extract it from the freezer.We chose this big bird not only to feed our guests all that they desire, but also to ensure a few leftovers.My mom and a dear friend will share the cooking duties with me — after nibbling appetizers, we’ll have the turkey and ham, mashed potatoes and gravy, Hawaiian rolls, corn casserole, sweet potatoes, stuffing, cranberry sauce, green beans, noodles cooked in broth, pea salad, lots of pie, and a Texas sheet cake for the few who don’t love pie.So many carbohydrates…so little fiber!But this is what we craved when some of the guests and I drew up the menu.After the meal but before dessert, we’ll go for a walk around the neighborhood. The kids jump on scooters or bikes while the rest of us stroll.The kids have a musical program planned — a flute solo and several piano pieces.They’re also going to create a gratitude table. A small wooden table in the kitchen will be cleared, and the kids will devise some system for guests to record the things for which they are grateful. This can continue during appetizers and food preparation, hopefully accumulating a long list of explanations. Then, at some point during the meal or on our walk, we can share them.They’ll also help with place cards and table decor.Last year, after the plates were cleared, we played “Apples to Apples.” This year, the kids want to play a game called “Telephone-Pictionary.”After we fill up with pie and coffee, we’ll sit around until we fade into carb-induced oblivion. Some will nap. Some will rinse dishes. Some will play games or work on the thousand-piece puzzle my daughter set up on a card table in the living room.And I’ll set up a few things for the next day’s breakfast before climbing into bed, reflecting on conversations and recalling the laughter, hoping everyone loved sharing the day with us as much as we did with them.  

For Pea Salad

For the noodles my grandma rolled out by hand,for the pickles and olives in a divided glass dish,and pea salad with hard-boiled eggs;for all the things we only ate at her house,gathered around the oval tableset with a white cloth,

I give thanks.

For my friend’s apple pie and corn casserole,and cranberry sauce cooked from scratch;for my mom’s texas sheet cakegreen beans, stuffing, and pumpkin pie

and for the pea saladshe offered to bringthat reaches back toThanksgivings past,

I give thanks.

Because we hold to tastesand smellsand memoriesand love

I’ll set the tablewith a white cloth.

We’ll eat noodles,and pea salad.

And for all these thingsand moreI’ll give thanks.

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1. Song. Set it to song or at least a rhythm, and it sticks pretty well. We have to get creative with Scripture, because some translations don’t have all that much rhythm to them. We’ve also applied this to skip counting for math. And can’t most of us remember our conjunctions thanks to Schoolhouse Rock (“Conjunction junction, what’s your function…”)? Anyway, I try to find some beat to the verse and say it that way. It helps.
2. Hand motions. Get all the senses involved and take in those words every way possible. We come up with hand symbols for God, Jesus, salvation, and other basic words like “all” and “world.” If you actually know American Sign Language, all the better. We don’t, so we just invent motions. They can recall the signs and bam! The words follow.
3. Pictures. For complicated verses, I’ve drawn little pictures to accompany the phrases. This helped the daughter who scoffed at my overblown hand motions and dance steps. She preferred the more civilized method of memorizing pictures to remember the flow of words.
4. Key words. If they remember the first word of a phrase that represents a shift in the verse, then often the rest of the words will tumble out automatically. So as we repeat it out loud, we emphasize the key words with exaggerated volume. I probably raise my eyebrows and open my mouth like a clown when I say them, too. I can’t help it. I’ve got Elasti-Face. Might as well use it for good.
5. Write it out. Okay, now these are the simple, low-tech, basic ideas coming out. Write it out lots of times, and it’ll enter the brain through another avenue.
6. Repeat, repeat, repeat. This is such an obvious one, but it bears repeating (sorry). But, well, that’s what we do. We go over and over the verse (out loud) until it’s drummed in there. Write it on a piece of paper and stick it in your pocket, or tape it to your cell phone and make yourself say it as you reach in your pocket for something or before making a call.

Do you have other memory techniques?And come to think of it, what would you like to memorize? Give it some serious thought–what would you love to be able to pull up at will to ponder, chew on, and contemplate?Think about that, and then check in sometime tomorrow.I have a special announcement.

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• Your kids exercise poor judgment in new and painful ways. Examples include slamming a window on one’s hand, falling and skinning a knee, breaking glassware, stubbing toes, and acting grumpy most of the day.
• After approximately four hundred twenty trips up and down the stairs, the entire contents of your bedrooms and closets are now piled in your living room, family room, and dining room. The resulting labyrinth aggravates and complicates tasks such as, oh, walking and sitting.
• You’re thrust into the role of a general contractor, hiring plumbers, electricians, tile installers, carpet-layers, painters and handymen to try to work in concert to resolve eight years of neglect. You’re fielding phone calls all day long, trying to schedule things in the right order. Comments from each team indicate you’re throwing off everybody’s schedule by at least three days. Feel bad.
• Every conversation you and your spouse enter into revolves around such tiresome subjects as ceramic tiles, pedestal sinks, and paint swatches.
• You have no time to interact with blog visitors in the comments because of the steady stream of questions and urgent requests coming from all directions in “real” life.

How to embrace (and occasionally counteract) the chaos:

• Hang clothes on the line. This productive activity also serves as a few moments of quiet and calm in the flurry of drywall dust and paint fumes.
• Declutter! Take this opportunity to sort through all those closet drawers and under-bed boxes. When they’re sitting in front of the couch, it’s convenient to dig through and make aggressive decisions. After all, every item that leaves the house is one more item you don’t have to carry back upstairs to the closets.
• Bake chocolate chip cookies. While this adds to the chaos (it’s hard not to question one’s judgment when cleaning up piles of flour in the middle of everything else), it also makes everybody smile.

Thank you for your patience as you faithfully comment and await my reply…only to be met with silence.Imagine me dotted with paint and dust, moving boxes and clothes, pausing from that to bake a batch of cookies to pass out to the gracious, patient, hard-working teams who are enduring chaos brought on by our neglect.As soon as I log off, I’ve got to make room in the garage for materials.Enjoy a few moments of calm in a hammock for me, would you?(Follow-up: If you’re so inclined, you can read a follow-up post that I composed after a comment to this one humbled me.)

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