Minivan Moments

When my son was a preschooler, he hated to have his hair cut. He said it physically hurt him. So we let it go for awhile before we finally took him to a barber. He was a big boy for his age, and the barber was decidedly harsher than he should have been when my son flinched and squirmed. I had to reiterate to the barber more than once that my son was still only 3, even though he looked to be over 4 years of age. The barber was frustrated by my son's sensory issues, didn't approve of my parenting, and we didn't go back. When my youngest child was an infant, she didn't sleep well. I co-slept with her until she had her tonsils and adenoids removed at 2 years of age for obstructive sleep apnea, which I wouldn't have caught if I hadn't co-slept. All the while, my fellow mothers criticized me, telling me all the ways I was failing as a mother. When that same child was toddler, I was the mother ignoring a screecher in her buggy at Target, because waiting for her to ...

As busy adults, we can easily resort to communicating via text message. Need to see if someone has a book your child needs to read for school? Text 'em! Want to know if your friend can get together Friday for coffee? Text 'em! Checking in on a friend with the flu? Text 'em! It is great for quick thoughts, simple questions, or making plans to get together. What texting is NOT great for is authentic communication. Too much is lost in print, too much room for things to be misconstrued, and too much temptation to be more harsh than you might be in person. Even the experts on proper communication agree that any serious conversation needs to happen in person. I am not making this up, this is not just my opinion, but I have definitely experienced this and found it to be true. However, it seems our Microwave Society, hooked on the instant gratification of texting and social media messaging for communication, has lost interest in personal communication, in face-to-face relations...

Life as a suburban mother is tricky. Because, Mommy Wars. You don't breastfeed? Inconceivable! Your baby needs your milk, you selfish hag! You exclusively breastfeed? The horror! How dare you flash your sex objects here, you shameless hussy! You homeschool? [eye roll] Overprotective much? Your kids go to public school? {gasp} Aren't you afraid of all the bullying, gangs, and drugs? Your children don't play sports? They're going to be fat and lazy! Your children play a sport EVERY SEASON?! You are setting them up to need constant busyness in their lives! Don't you know children need to experience boredom?!? Why do you let your kids play video games? They're going to grow up to be murderers! You don't buy exclusively organic food? All those chemicals are going to give your children diseases! Why do you even buy organic? Don't you know it's all a farce to make idiots like you spend more money? I mean... really. Are we trying to make ou...

Have you ever seen a shrub that was shaped so many times that it no longer looked attractive? Or a hack-job on a tree or bush that was clearly outside the realm of what would be the natural growth pattern of that particular plant? We used to live in a little house that was over 20 years old when we moved in, and the original owners had planted holly bushes in the front of the house between the walkway to the front steps and the house. At one point, it probably looked great nestled into that spot, just under the living room windows. Sadly, by the time we moved into that house, the shrubs had been cut down to fit into that space so many times that the bushes had bare spots where greenery didn't grow anymore and the stalks of the shrubs were thick, rough... and highly visible . From the street, it looked like dead patches. But we, as the tenants, knew better. We lamented those bare spots every time the holly bushes got a trim - which we needed to keep up with per the landlord and th...

I struggle with fear. And I mean struggle . Fear knows how to get into my head, despite my efforts to ignore it. I try to tune it out, and it works... for a time. I attempt to rationalize my way out of it, and that, too, has some success. And as a Christian, I endeavor to turn my fear over to the Lord and let Him take care of things His way. But fear returns. And we grapple. Sometimes, fear gets the upper hand. Other times, I conquer it. But in every instance, fear reminds me that it is always capable of - at the very least - interfering with my day and wrecking my peace. So I struggle with fear. Because giving into it is not an option. It might be like a muscle: the more I exercise my strength over fear, the stronger I get, and the easier it will be to vanquish. Maybe it's like bitterness: the more I practice turning away from the whispers of fear, the quieter the voice becomes. Or perhaps fear is like a broken relationship: it has come into my life and left its mark,...