Teaching Kids Kindness in the Face of Fear

November 24, 2015November 24, 2015 / Still Chasing Fireflies / 3 Comments

Paris (1)

For the first time in forever, I was able to savor a quiet, un-busy weekend at home, so I curled up with a blanket and a cup of tea on Saturday morning to catch up on my long-neglected newsfeed. Lucky for me, I stumbled upon this essay written by a talented mom who blogs at You Have Six Kids? In her post, she reflects on the question of how to teach kids kindness in a world where unkindness often feels like the norm. Her post caught my attention because she drives home the point that we, as parents, as people, cannot allow fear to seep into our hearts and erode our own values of love and generosity toward others. Recent events in Paris and Mali have fed into our darkest fears, fears that aim to manipulate and isolate us.

In her post, she explores the truth that when bad things happen in our lives, we are tempted to disconnect from others, to focus on self-preservation at the expense of what is inherently good about ourselves and our country. Helping people who need us can be scary. It can feel risky. It can even be painful. But that doesn’t mean that helping is any less right than it was the day before something terrible happened.

And these ideas really got me thinking about how my feelings do not give me a one-way ticket out of difficult situations. About how uncomfortable predicaments that test my convictions not only allow me to help others, but also promote my own personal growth. About how if I am able to help, and available to help, and especially if God has put me in the right place at the right time to help, then helping is not so much my choice as it is my responsibility. About how our children learn to do good by watching and participating when we ourselves do good, and about just how many opportunities to help others exist all around us every single day.

heart rock

Now, I don’t know the mom who wrote this article, but she has street cred, for sure. Her personal story is the epitome of faith in action. You can check it out on her blog. She is selfless. She is generous. She is inspiring. I am grateful to have read her words this morning.

But there was something else that stuck with me after reading her essay, something that I just couldn’t shake from my brain. Here it is, in the second part of this statement from her post: “Teaching kids to be kind to one another can be difficult, considering we live in a world fueled by hate and evil.”

Teaching kids to be kind can definitely be difficult. Preach it, Sister!

But a world fueled by hate and evil?

Whoa.

That. Is. Depressing.

And I just can’t believe that it is true.

Now let me just say, based on the rest of this writer’s essay, that I’m not so sure that she and I disagree on this point at all. In fact, I have a feeling that we would actually be on exactly the same page here if we had a heart-to-heart conversation over lunch, like mom friends do. But this IS a scary premise that many people embrace these days, and it feeds anxiety, and it has influenced some smart people to do and say some crazy, hateful things, exactly the kinds of things that this writer challenges in her post.

Don’t get me wrong. There is hate and there is evil. We saw it in Paris. We have seen it on American soil. We have witnessed it through vile acts of international terrorism and through deplorable examples of domestic crime. We watch it on the news locally, nationally, and globally every day. It runs as a constant stream across our newsfeeds. It interrupts normal broadcasting. It screams for attention through “Special Reports” and “Breaking News.” Photographs of perpetrators of evil flash across our television screens and glare at us from the front pages of newspapers. We watch footage of bombers hiding their secrets in crowds at marathons and planes crashing into buildings over and over and over again.

And we start to believe that this is all there is outside our front doors. The world is hate. The world is evil.

Except that it isn’t.

Remember that fear we were talking about? Well, he’s a liar.

As the writer at You Have Six Kids? explains, we teach our kids kindness by showing kindness ourselves, especially when being kind is a difficult, scary, or inconvenient thing for us to do. She is so right! Let’s also teach our kids kindness, even when frightening things are happening all around, by helping them to SEE THE GOOD in the world outside of the bubbles that we have created for them.

Because it is everywhere.

Because it is powerful.

Because it is contagious.

Because it can change people.

Because it can build a bridge where there is only a divide.

Because it can speak English. And Arabic. And Chinese. And Russian.

And because last week, we all learned to speak kindness in French.

Good is always present, even in the dark places where evil lurks, even in the face of terrible atrocities. There are always some people who are choosing to do what is good. Always.

I want to help my children see them.

I want them to know that there were many, many more people praying for Paris than attacking it, that there were many people from many places sending resources to help, that there were many countries offering assistance.

You see, my goal is not to shield my children from the harsh realities of the world around them, but I do want them to see a world that is fueled by faith and hope and love, a world where evil, while it may threaten, cannot maintain a strong grip if the people who are working for good are working together. I want them to focus on the heroes. I want them to see the servants. I want them to know that in the battle of good against evil, the good guys outnumber the bad.

It is my goal, just like it is the goal of the mom at You Have Six Kids? and the goal of the other moms who are part of my village, to raise children who become the men and women who someday lead our communities and our nation in pursuit of what is right.

We can teach our kids to DO the good even when the work is hard or scary.

We can teach our kids to SEE the good even when the bad demands our attention.

And we can teach our kids to BE the good wherever in the world life takes them.

Paris (2)

photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/33011324@N00/502116633″>gratuitous eiffel tower shot</a> via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a> <a href=”https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/”>(license)</a>

photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/28232355@N05/7966684542″>Rock Hard Love</a> via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a> <a href=”https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/”>(license)</a>

photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/85608594@N00/14493000464″>Johann Wolfgang von Goethe A man sees in the world what he carries in his heart</a> via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a> <a href=”https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/”>(license)</a>

Goodbye, Old Friend

November 10, 2015 / Still Chasing Fireflies / 27 Comments

My friend and I are sitting on the couch, wrapped in warm, cozy blankets. It’s fall, you know, and the air is cool and damp, and the breeze outside has an icy bite. In my house, the heater is running and I have a cup of hot tea in hand, but the chill has moved to the inside, and these blankets, well, they just aren’t cutting it tonight.

My friend appears to be toasty and snug; she is comfortable, I hope, and I am glad that she has nodded off to sleep. I can hear her breathing, slowly, steadily. I can see the rise and fall of her chest, and it brings me a fleeting sense of peace. The rhythm is even, measured, and the sounds are soft, like waves washing over the sand. My friend is sick, and I am hoping that we can savor the moments of a peaceful evening together. I am praying that it was not selfish to ask her to stay with us just one more night.

When I reflect on who I was thirteen years ago, when we first met, I’m surprised that she has stuck with me this long. I mean, thirteen years. We have both changed so much in that time. For one thing, we have aged. Wow, have we aged. And we’ve gained wisdom, too. She became a master of getting what she wanted when no one was looking, and I learned a lot about friendship from her.

In thirteen years, we have celebrated many milestones together. I remember when I was pregnant with my first baby boy; she watched me model maternity clothes in my bedroom and helped me decide what to keep. She never had children herself, but she seemed fascinated by my growing belly and the baby clothes everywhere and the mural being painted on the nursery walls.

When I brought that sweet baby home from the hospital, she was waiting for me at the door. She shared in my joy. She always wanted me to be happy. She snuggled with my baby and even napped with him once in a while. I felt safe when she was with him. I knew she would protect him from harm. I knew she would protect us all.

A couple of years later, she greeted me again after my second son was born. She loved to watch that baby squirm and squeal. She loved to share snacks with him, and he enjoyed that, too. It was a little conspiracy that they shared, breaking mom’s rules; I remember that it made my son erupt in giggles, the kind of giggles that pull the laughter right up from your own belly, too.

As the boys got older, they would sometimes be mischievous. She kept a close eye on them and would always let me know when trouble loomed. Sometimes, when they played outside, she would stand at the window and watch. She worried about them more than I did. She was petite and pretty, and she appeared harmless to strangers, but her temper was explosive. It wouldn’t have been wise to challenge her. I’m glad that no one ever did.

When I became a mother, my time was more limited, naturally. Some of my friends just couldn’t handle that, but she understood. She compensated by spending more time with all of us. She started mothering my kids, too, teaching them compassion and responsibility. Looking back, I know that I neglected her at times, but she forgave me. She never held a grudge. Her heart was much more generous than mine.

I have many special memories with her, but they are lovely, simple moments. She never vacationed with us or ate at restaurants, although I’m sure she would have enjoyed a well-cooked steak. Instead, she loved spending time with my kids and my nephews. She took pleasure in being outdoors and running with friends. She enjoyed hosting parties with me; she wanted to welcome everyone at the door. I think she seemed most content when we just curled up with the family to watch t.v. Looking back, she was happy most of the time, much more than most of the people I know. And she never made me feel like I was competing with anyone. My messy hair and comfy sweats were perfectly acceptable to her. In fact, she would tip her head and look at me with a quizzical expression if I decided to dress up for a change.

I remember taking long walks with her, but not as often as she would have liked. We both needed the escape of getting out of the house, away from the chaos. We could be silent together. We could soak up the fresh air and the beauty of the outdoors without even saying a word. She reminded me that friendships don’t have to be noisy.

Sometimes, though, I needed to talk. A few times I needed to grieve. Many times I needed to vent. Whatever the reason, she listened. She heard me. She got me.

And she never, ever told my secrets.

I tried to fill her needs, but I was also the one who created all of the rules in our relationship. I was the one with the limits and the expectations. Her love was always without boundaries. Sure, she appreciated a kind gesture here and there, but she was content with an ordinary routine and a simple pat on the back. She didn’t ask for much. She didn’t need a thank you note. She didn’t want the best brand of anything. She was satisfied with enough. I think that I could learn from her in that regard.

I always knew that she loved me even though she wasn’t one to express herself in words. I knew that she loved me because she always wanted to be where I was. That’s how you show love, you know. You show up for people. You know you truly love someone when you just want to be where they are.

So tonight, I am taking a little time out of my busy life to be where she is, here on the couch, swaddled in a blanket. I gently stroke her back, and I can feel the bones that were once concealed by fat and fluff. Most friends don’t realize when they are spending their last night together, but we both know. In the morning, I will hold her in my arms until her breathing stops and her pain evaporates like mist.

It’s chilly here this evening, but I hear the furnace running and my mug of tea feels hot against my hand. I’m wrapped up in a blanket, snuggling closely with my friend, but the warmth just won’t take hold. I understand it.

It’s hard to warm a chill that’s on the inside.

It’s hard to say goodbye to an old friend.

Kelci
August 22, 2002-November 10, 2015

To My Son’s Soccer Coach

November 3, 2015November 4, 2015 / Still Chasing Fireflies / 55 Comments

To My Son’s Soccer Coach:

Last weekend, after the final game of the season, you posed with my son and his seven teammates in front of the goal for some team pictures. There you were, one man towering over eight little boys with their arms linked like a chain, big smiles on each face. You tolerated the parent paparazzi and even humored the boys with a crazy-face picture. You didn’t complain; you just acted like a nine-year-old, too, but I’m pretty sure that you were glad when the photo session was over.

Coach, lots of kids play soccer these days, and many of them have similar pictures on the shelves in their rooms. But to my son, this picture – this team, this experience – it is all so special. This team picture represents so much more than just the hours that he spent kicking a ball around with some friends. It is bigger than his successes and his mistakes on the field. It is more significant than the assists that he made or the points that he defended or the breakaways that he finished. And every time I see that picture, Coach, I wonder if you know, if you really understand, just how much you mean to my kid.

My son is a lucky guy. He has some great men in his life, men of integrity, who are training him to be a great man, too. His dad is always cheering on the sidelines. His grandpas love him more than words. His uncles spoil him with gifts and attention. But there is something about you, the other man in his life, that matters to him so much. There is something there that is hard to explain, something special about the relationship between a boy and his coach. I don’t know if you feel it, Coach, but I know that he does, and I hear that the other boys do, too.

You should know that my son, like most little boys, complains about a lot of things. He complains about homework. He complains about taking care of the dog. He complains about brushing his teeth at night. But one thing that he never complains about is going to practice. Every cell in that kid’s body desires to work hard and play hard with his team. He is hungry to learn and to improve for himself and his friends. If he doesn’t feel well and can’t attend school, no problem, but just the thought of missing a practice or a game can reduce my little man to tears. His team gives him a drive and a purpose, and you set the positive tone for that. You teach him to sweat, to show leadership, and to strive to improve. You teach him to persevere when things aren’t easy. You teach him what the give and take of being a teammate really means. These aren’t just lessons that are important in soccer; these are lessons that will guide him for the rest of his life.

Listen, Coach, I live with two little boys, and I know how frustrating they can be. I’m guessing you’ve already noticed, but sometimes they don’t listen. Okay, let’s be honest: A lot of the time, they don’t listen. They can be looking right into your eyes, nodding in agreement, and still not be paying attention to a single word that you’ve said. I’ve been there, Coach; I get it. I also know that they are easily distracted. SO easily distracted! I imagine that if a squirrel runs by or an airplane flies overhead during practice, you probably lose ten minutes just trying to get eight little boys back on track. Then there’s that little boy thing where they can’t keep their hands off each other. I don’t understand it, but I live with them, and I know that even the simplest, quietest activity always ends in wrestle mania. And let’s not forget that sometimes little boys can be insensitive with their words while at the same time being incredibly sensitive with their feelings. Stir all of this craziness into a pot, and the fact that you accomplish anything in the short amount of time that you spend with these animals is something amazing. And you keep coming back week after week, Coach. I guess, like us parents, you also see their joy, their innocence, their loyalty, their honesty, and their pure, undefiled love of the game. Thanks, Coach, for focusing on the positive when my kid tries your patience, and I know that he and his friends sometimes do.

Your time coaching our son is busy, and our evenings are often a rush, so we don’t have many opportunities to talk to you, but I want you to know that we see what you do. You might think that we parents are judging you by the wins and the scores, but that’s not really true. Sure, we want our team to be competitive, we want to see our children grow, but we have entrusted you with our greatest treasures, so there are lots of other things that matter from the sideline. Like that time you put your arm around my son while he was sitting on the bench. Do you remember? Probably not. But I do, and I promise I won’t forget that moment. It mattered to me more than anything else in that game. I’m telling you, I notice.

Every fist bump that you’ve given him when he runs off the field.

Every pat on the back that you’ve shared when he’s having a rough game.

Every serious, one-on-one consultation on the sidelines.

Every team huddle and chant.

Every time you have stood up for a player on our team.

Every time my son has deserved your frustration but received your caring instruction instead.

And then there were the times when a player was injured and you immediately ran to his aid. Do you have any idea how agonizing it is for a mom to allow someone else to be the first responder when her child is hurt just a few feet away? But I know that my son would find comfort in you if he were suffering, and that matters more to me than the score.

There were highlights this season, moments when my son’s skills shined and his contributions made a huge difference to his team’s success. You were the first one to congratulate him on those occasions, and that meant so much. And there were times, like every player experiences, when he did not play his best. We all saw it, Coach. I don’t know why he was having a bad day, but I do know that he didn’t want to disappoint you. I saw how you treated him when he was already down. You saw him for what he is, a kid with skills that are still developing, a kid who doesn’t always perform on cue. He could have been an easy target for a frustrated coach, but you didn’t even yell at him. You encouraged him. You instructed him. You motivated him to keep trying and to want to improve at the game that he loves.

Here’s the thing, Coach. We aren’t trying to raise a world-class athlete here, although we do encourage our boys to follow their dreams. We are trying to raise a man, a man who works hard and plays fair, a man who learns from his mistakes and always perseveres, a man who encourages others and shows compassion and shares grace. A man like his dad and his granddads. A man like you.

Thank you for showing my kid that soccer, as much as he loves it, is just a game, but being a part of a productive, positive team can be his real life.

Thank you for being a part of OUR team.

Sincerely,

A Soccer Mom

EASY Fall Decorating Tips and Tricks!

October 17, 2015 / Still Chasing Fireflies / 6 Comments

Confession time, friends. I’m in a bad relationship.

You know the kind I’m talking about.

The kind like leftover Halloween candy that seduces you with sweet promises but leaves you with a toothache and a few extra pounds instead. Unhealthy, yes, but just sooooooo tempting. The kind where the people who love you beg, “Just stop already! It isn’t worth it! We liked you better before you signed up for this!” The kind that begins with hope and the thrill of a million possibilities and ends with all those ugly feeeelings – the low self-esteem, the inferiority complex, the sense that you will never be able to measure up.

The relationship just isn’t working.

But it’s not me, Pinterest. It’s you.

Seriously, though, I do have a passion for Pinterest, and I love it, and I hate it, and all of this is REAL. I could spend hours, maybe days, staring at my laptop, searching through all of the amazingly fantastic things that you people with incredible imaginations and a little (or a lot) of extra time on your hands have created. I am in awe of you. I enjoy your clever party plans. I have stolen your ideas for teacher gifts. I am eternally grateful for your crockpot recipes. I revel in pinning page after page of your designs onto artfully named boards, just as I once snipped pages from magazines and squirreled them away in manila folders. (And I’m not willing to swear that this is true, but I could still have the aforementioned folders . . . mostly because I am pretty sure that the eleventh commandment would have been “Though shalt not dispose of any brilliant idea that you might, maybe, possibly be able to use someday AS IF it is GARBAGE.” PLEASE! Who would do that?)

In truth, Pinterest stalking gives me a few minutes of calm and peace in my frantically-paced life. It reminds me of the hobbies that I wish I had more time to pursue, and I appreciate that. A lot. But those time-consuming projects that require lots of planning and skill? I. Can’t. Even. I am way too busy grading papers and finding a pair of matching socks for every member of the family and picking up the hundred mangled pieces of the paper towel my dog just shredded to invest the time into crafting and decorating that I would like. And I just got a sort-of-friendly reminder from the elementary school that I forgot (oops!) to pay our sons’ school fees (because the taxes and school supply shopping didn’t suffice), so I don’t exactly have a lot of “fun money” in my pocket at the moment, either.

And this is a problem – both the lack of time and the lack of money – because I love fall, and I LOVE seasonal decorating. I so enjoy bringing each season into our house and being reminded of the beauty and uniqueness of each new phase of the year. (Please don’t ask my husband how many crates he has to drag out of the crawl space before Christmas. Seriously . . . Please don’t bring it up.) But whatever I do, it’s gotta be easy. And quick. And inexpensive. And it has to blend in with the general messiness that is real life at my house. Nothing too fancy here, I promise. Maybe I can save you from getting a Pinterest inferiority complex by sharing a few of my favorite, simple fall decorating ideas so that you can add some fall flair to your space, as well – unless, of course, you already finished your Christmas shopping and are ready to put up your tree. Don’t even . . .

Save money by repurposing things. That simple yellow-green Russell Wright plate is something special that I inherited from my grandmother, yet it was hidden away in a cupboard. It didn’t cost a penny to add this colorful touch to a few decorations that I already had. Look through your cabinets and your basement. Think about how you could use items in different ways. Could the wreath that you didn’t hang this year be used on the table instead? Could your magazines with fall covers decorate a coffee table or fill a basket? How could you move some things that you already have, like the “W” I have here on my mantle, into different rooms to make new decorative displays? Look for more repurposing ideas below! And, by the way, shades of green work in all seasons. I like to think of green as a neutral color!

Fall is a great time to bring nature in. You can buy pine cones and sticks and leaves and acorns, or you can send your kids or grandkids hunting for them, for free!

Invest in containers that you like and then fill them with new stuff each season. I didn’t realize that this is my super-simple, go-to decorating technique until I started taking some pictures, but it is. I do this all over the place. You can fill your summer planter with real gourds.

Fill a big glass jar or vase with gourds, too. (Okay, I guess I like gourds. At least these ones can be used again year after year.)

Fill decorative bowls with candles and moss balls. (By the way, I bought this decorative bowl – one of my favorites – at Walmart years ago, and I just purchased the moss balls at Target. We’re not talking Pottery Barn investments here.)

Fill canning jars with seasonal treats. (I see décor; my kids just see candy.)

Instead of hiding it away, fill your drink dispenser with seasonal fruit. It’s also more handy when you need to use it!

Fill a wooden bowl with potpourri. Seriously, just fill containers that you can use all year with different stuff. I told you this is my go-to technique! If you do make a run to the craft store to get your potpourri, you can also buy a role of burlap. It is inexpensive and comes in different widths. Snip off the length you need to make a runner for your dinner table or coffee table. Very fall. Very easy.

This might be my favorite tip. Decorating with photographs is inexpensive and packs a decorating punch. In the fall, I display photos of my children in their Halloween costumes throughout the years. These pics make me so happy. (Or sad . . . They are growing up so fast! Sniff, sniff.) They also embarrass my children, which is sometimes fun, too. But, seriously, aren’t they adorable?

I recommend buying matching neutral frames and ordering prints for all of them for all seasons at once. Store the pics for other seasons right in the frames so that they are easy to rotate when you change your decorations.

Instead of buying lots of different kinds of decorations, start a collection. I personally like pumpkins as a fall decorating staple, so each year I buy myself one more. This year, I bought a small green glass one for $5.99 at Home Goods. Again, it’s a small investment (and this one might actually be an apple?!?), but it’s the collection that makes the statement, and you don’t have to think too hard to make a collection work. It is also fun to add to it each year and watch it grow!

Just choose the common element (pumpkins, in my case) and then add pieces of various colors, textures, and materials over the years. Include some in groups, and sprinkle others around the house. So simple.

Chalkboard art is a favorite of mine, too. Now this one requires some skill, and I enjoy having an outlet for some artistic creativity, but you can keep your designs much simpler. Search “fall chalkboard art” on Google Images or (*gulp*) Pinterest, and you will find lots of ideas, from simple to complex, in a snap. You can do it yourself for the cost of the chalk, which will last through many, many seasons.

Seasons are also about smells, so consider adding a fall smell to your house! Pumpkin spice smells are my fav, and they seem to hide the other smells that live here like “sweaty boy” and “dog that needs a bath.” Dig out your candles or buy a couple of plug-in air fresheners. Aaaahhhhh! Delightful! If you are really ambitious, make some applesauce in your crockpot to make your house smell good. Then the results are tasty, too.

After you have brought fall inside, you can pick up the mess in that one room where you like to relax, pull on a comfy sweater, and curl up with a good book and a pumpkin chai latte. Until someone starts yelling, “Mommmmm!”

Which probably won’t be very long.

Maybe wear your earbuds and pretend that you can’t hear them, just this one time.

Hopefully a few of these ideas will work for you! What other ideas do you have for seasonal fall decorating? Please join the conversation! Leave a comment!

And HAPPY FALL to you and those you love! Thank you for reading!

~Mary Ann

This Week I Will Notice People

October 4, 2015October 5, 2015 / Still Chasing Fireflies / 1 Comment

This week, I will notice people.

Not the people who are loud and rude. Not the ones who shout demands. Not the wheels that squeak.

I will not notice them.

This week, I will notice the unnoticed ones.

I will not pass them briskly, blinded by my distractions. I will notice them. I will peek over the walls that separate us. I will look past the boundaries of our skin. I will gaze into their hearts this time. I will listen earnestly to hear the words that they aren’t saying.

I will see the tears that are not being shed.

I will feel the pain that’s hidden deep within.

I will recognize the anger that is heartache in disguise.

I will sense the grief concealed beneath a smile.

I will perceive the hopelessness in eyes that won’t meet mine.

I will spot the fear that no one else detects.

I will notice.

I will meet the shame, and I will shake its hand. I will see the sadness and the exhaustion and the despair. I will greet the desperation, and I will be the one who does not turn away. I will not pretend that I don’t see.

I will notice.

And I will offer hope.

I will flash a smile that is sincere.

I will encourage with a story or a hug.

I will model bravery even when I am afraid.

I will buy the coffee that brightens someone’s day.

I will say hello and how are you to the ones that no one sees.

I will sacrifice my own conveniences.

I will surrender the closer parking space.

I will hold the door.

I will really listen.

I will allow the gratitude that is in my heart to overflow.

I will prove my interest by connecting with my eyes.

I will show compassion.

I will ask questions because I care about the answers.

I will be the evidence that there is love.

I will invite the struggling mom to cut in line.

I will react with patience and with love.

I will reveal my own weaknesses.

I will share grace.

I will take time.

I will forgive.

I will be aware.

I will be nice.

This week, I will notice.

Will you notice people, too?

photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/48266396@N00/164175205″>Liverpool Street station crowd blur</a> via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a> <a href=”https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/”>(license)</a>

Lessons From Loss: Choose Joy

September 21, 2015 / Still Chasing Fireflies / Leave a comment

**It’s so good to be back, friends! My head is still spinning from the start of a hectic school year combined with a tough few weeks for my family, but writing is doing what it always does for me – bringing me peace. You can start reading my latest post here and then finish it over at The Today Show Parenting Blog, where I would REALLY appreciate your vote of approval! Thanks! And, please, start choosing JOY.**

Like a shadowy veil, a dark cloud recently settled over my family, and the air was still, and so it sat there, making itself comfortable despite our cries that it was an unwelcome guest. On one of the darkest days of its visit, we lost a courageous aunt to a short battle with lung cancer, and a few days later, with that cloud still hovering above, we rushed to our beloved grandmother’s bed to hug her one last time, to say farewell. So much sadness. So much loss. So much pain in my heart for my children and my husband and his grieving family.

Now the gloom is lifting, the sky changing from a heavy charcoal to a dusty gray, but the shadow still looms. It hardly seems appropriate to write an essay about happiness. Not now. It just isn’t right.

Or maybe it’s perfect.

Grief is far from easy. It is the opposite of easy, actually, far worse than hard. It drills down deep, to the very core of our humanity, and leaves us with gaping hollow spaces that we cannot fill. It is real and it is heavy and it is slow. But this essay is not about healing after loss because those answers are not mine to give. I wish that I could write that essay, I wish that I could throw that lifeline, but I can’t. I don’t have enough experience. Not yet, and hopefully not for a long while.

So this essay isn’t about dying. And it’s not about healing.

It’s about living.

It’s about how experiencing loss can remind us to reacquaint ourselves with joy. It’s about how loss knocks down walls and puts everything into a new perspective. It’s about how, in an instant, my schedule and my task lists and my obligations, the homework and the sports games and the housekeeping, my urgent emails and my important messages and my top priorities – my entire life – all of it – can immediately screech to a halt with just one desperate phone call. It’s about how loss reminded me of some things that I knew once but forgot, like:

*Life is short. I want mine to be a happy one.

*I allow a lot of things to steal my happiness, and most of them aren’t really that important.

*In the big picture, most things, in general, aren’t really that important.

*We make happiness seem much harder to attain than it probably is.

*The greatest happiness comes from appreciating the simplest joys.

I’ve drawn a few more conclusions from these dark days, too. I want to live a life that overflows with joy because I focus on what matters most. I want to create a home that attracts happiness to our front porch and then invites it in to eat dinner and sit at the table with us. I want to instill an appreciation of the simple things in my children so that they experience peace, even when the air outside is still and dark clouds hang like a heavy curtain at their door.

So here is our starting point, some simple ideas to invite more happiness inside our home, and maybe yours . . .

**I know, I know . . . Stopping in the middle is just mean! But you don’t have to wait. Just click here to finish reading this post on The Today Show Parenting Blog. If you enjoy it, I would be very grateful for your vote! Thank you so, so much!**

photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/9198432@N02/6101296095″>smiley face stress ball</a> via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a> <a href=”https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/”>(license)</a>

Back to School Edition: Tip #9

August 19, 2015August 19, 2015 / Still Chasing Fireflies / Leave a comment

Bus

First let me say that if you have read all of my nine tips in nine days, you are an overachiever, and, also, THANK YOU! This “little project” turned out to be an ambitious endeavor, and after a few days I thought “What have I done? This is too much! No one wants to read my posts every day for over a week! And how on earth will I keep up?” But you surprised me, and you did read some posts, and you did send me encouraging messages and new ideas, and I did accomplish my goal. Hooray for all of us!

In the process of writing these posts, I learned a some things about myself – because you can’t really explore an idea in writing without some deep self-reflection. I am no expert on anything, really; any advice that I give is just advice that I am giving myself, first and foremost. I hope that reading these tips led you to some self-reflection, too.

Before we end our series, the teacher in me wants to quickly revisit where we’ve been. Here are the first eight tips with links in case you missed one or just want to review.

Tip #1: If your first impression of the teacher is negative, keep it to yourself.
Tip #2: Work as a team with the teacher, even if she isn’t your BFF.
Tip #3: Be open and honest about what your child needs.
Tip #4: Make your child’s school experience personal.
Tip #5: Never react too quickly.
Tip #6: Create a plan to help your child open up to you.
Tip #7: Teach your kids to have an optimistic outlook.
Tip #8: Invest time in what matters most.

Which leads us to Back to School Tip of the Day #9

Preserve the memories. And what this really means is that you have permission to force your kids to (fake) smile for first-day-of-school pictures. In fact, they need to learn that life often requires us to do things that we don’t want to do in order to make someone else happy. Like making coffee for the boss. Or cleaning the toilet for guests. Or smiling so that your mom has a picture from every first day of school of your entire life.

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, kids, so say, “Cheese!”

I’m exhausted, so that is all for today, but thanks again for supporting the 2015 Back to School Edition of my blog. I already have ideas for some additional tips in the coming weeks, but my pace will slow now that my school year has begun. Since today is the first day of school at our house, and that is like January 1 to us, we wish all of you, whether you have kids in school or not, a HAPPY NEW YEAR!

See, I made my kids do it! Aren’t they handsome?
I won’t mention that they had to RUN so that they didn’t miss the
bus on the first day . . . My fault . . . We are a work in progress, for sure! 😉

Back to School Edition: Tip #8

August 18, 2015August 18, 2015 / Still Chasing Fireflies / 2 Comments

Tomorrow is the end of our series on creating a mindset for a
successful school year. You can read them all, starting here!

Tip of the Day #8

Invest time in what matters most.

Hey, You.

Yeah, that’s right. I’m talking to you. School starts tomorrow, and we need to have a little chat.

The two of us, we have a lot in common. I know how you think. I know that you are a very busy person. You complain about it sometimes, but you actually enjoy being involved in many things. You like to help people. You like to be connected. You like to make a difference. You like to work hard. When someone asks you to do something, you just do it, usually because you want to, but also because you have a hard time saying no.

You hear yourself say things like, “I’m sorry I didn’t (fill in the blank), but last week was just crazy!” You realize that you could say that every single week.

You also realize that you apologize a lot, but you aren’t always sure why. Should you really be sorry that it is humanly impossible to do everything?

The start of the school year is a new beginning. Maybe it is time to reexamine how you spend your days. How you spend your hours. How you spend your minutes. Maybe it is time to budget minutes just like you budget dollars, to reserve some just for fun and to at least know where the other ones are going.

Which things on your schedule are directly connected to what matters to you most?

Which things are nurturing your most important relationships?

Which things in your life are making the most positive difference for others?

Which things are helping you to experience personal growth, physically, mentally, or spiritually?

Which things are teaching your kids, directly or indirectly, the lessons that you want to instill while they are young?

Which things require a personal investment that is not worth the benefits, to you or to others?

Which things surprise you by the amount of time that you actually spend on them?

Which things could you manage differently or share with others in order to be more time efficient?

What important things are not even on your schedule?

What unimportant things can go?

Does the way that you spend your time truly reflect the priorities that you think you embrace? I mean, if a priority is something that you regard as most important, then shouldn’t your priorities take up most of your time?

So, You. Yes, I’m talking to you again, the lady looking back from the mirror. Some things need to change around here. Some things on that list need to go. They are good things – they really are – but they aren’t the best things for you right now. And some other areas of your life need room to grow.

Your kids are happy when you spend time with them. They will be spending a lot of time at school soon, but they are excited whenever you step into that place. They like to see that their most important people – their family and their teachers – are a team. They like to see that their most important places – their home and their school – are connected. They like it when you go on a field trip or help with an event or volunteer for an afternoon. An afternoon. You do not have to sign your life away to make a difference. Spend a little time at school.

Take the time to enjoy the activities your kids are doing. Don’t just watch. ENJOY. Without thinking about the other things you need to do at work and home. Soak it up. Don’t just “spend time.” BE PRESENT.

The truth is that you are busy, and you will probably always be busy, because life is busy, and you like it that way. It makes you feel like you aren’t wasting time. But when you are too busy, you might be wasting time all over the place by committing to the things that aren’t most important. It’s time to reassess. That time before work and after, don’t let it just slip away. Remember that being in the house together is not the same as investing time in your relationships. Think about how you could use the first and last ten minutes of the day to somehow acknowledge the things that matter most.

You have some work to do, Friend. But I’ll be here for you, in the looking glass, every morning.

You know where to find me.

Tomorrow is the last day in our back to school series!
Join me as I send my own kids back to school!

photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/95380107@N05/9197295814″>Despertador</a> via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a> <a href=”https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/”>(license)</a>

Back to School Edition: Tip #7

August 17, 2015August 17, 2015 / Still Chasing Fireflies / 1 Comment

Thanks for reading my nine back-to-school tips in nine days!
Missed one? Start here!

Back to School Tip of the Day #7

Teach your child to have an optimistic outlook. Several weeks ago, my nine-year-old son and his six-year-old cousin enjoyed a fishing adventure with my dad and my brother. For my sons, fishing with grandpa ranks up there with going on vacation, eating cookies for breakfast, and tormenting one another on their list of favorite things to do. They. Love. It.

After this particular fishing trip, my son had a fish story to tell, and he didn’t even need to exaggerate. He had caught the biggest fish that he had ever caught in this particular pond, his largest fish yet and one that exceeded his brother’s biggest catch so far, as well. He was so excited that he proudly posed for pictures (not his favorite thing), you know, just in case the Guinness Book of World Records called.

Meanwhile, my nephew was patiently waiting to catch a big one himself. So far, he hadn’t been catching anything. When you are six, it’s hard to watch someone ten feet away experiencing success and feeling rewarded when you are working just as hard over here on the dock for nothing. Even adults find that situation annoying. But he waited, and he persisted, and he kept fishing, and it finally happened. The kid felt a tug on his line.

He reeled in his catch, his adrenaline pumping, with great anticipation hanging in the air. Everyone was watching to see what he had caught. Would this fishing trip be recorded in family history as the day that the big fish were biting? He pulled and reeled until the catch broke the surface, and there, on the end of the line, was the teeniest tiniest fish, wildly flipping and flopping, obviously unaware that he was too small for dinner.

Grandpa and Dad and Cousin all paused, wondering how he would react to the little fish dangling on the line. They expected disappointment, maybe tears, because this little fish could not compete with the fish that his cousin had caught. It was tiny.

My nephew looked at his miniature catch and studied it for a moment. The audience held its breath. Then the little man smiled from ear to ear and proudly announced, “This is the biggest baby fish I’ve ever caught!”

And that tiny fish has gone down in history – because it reminded all of us of something important.

That “baby fish” reminded us that the exact same situation can be disappointing or rewarding, simply depending upon how we choose to look at it. And I hate to accept that responsibility! When I am cranky and frustrated, I want to blame my situation. I don’t like the truth – that I actually control my attitude and my response. But my six-year-old nephew reminded me that I do.

I want my family to be the glass-half-full kind of people. I want my kids to see the good in difficult situations – and in difficult people. I want them to look at failures, at school or outside of school, as opportunities to grow. I want them to see struggles as learning experiences and mistakes as chances to recalibrate or change course. I want them to find joy in the smallest successes and inspiration in dreams that seem impossible to reach. I don’t want them to compare themselves to others. I want them to see the tiniest catch as the biggest baby fish in the pond.

The school year will be full of challenges, but my goal this year is to instill a spirit of optimism in my children. I can’t prevent them from facing life’s challenges. I can’t protect them from dealing with difficult people. I can’t necessarily change the circumstances that they face. But I can do my best to model positive thinking and self-control away from the pond – because you will NEVER find me putting a worm on a fishing hook! Maybe this is a goal that you can adopt, too. Maybe all of us could benefit from a little more optimistic thinking.

Only two days left!
This series ends Wednesday when my own kiddos head back to school!

Back To School Edition: Tip #6

August 16, 2015 / Still Chasing Fireflies / Leave a comment

Catching up on this back-to-school series? Start here!

Back to School Tip of the Day #7

Create a plan to help your child open up. Some kids are natural chatterboxes and delight in sharing every detail of every minute of the school day as soon as they get home. But many other kids, especially older ones, don’t volunteer much information. This leaves the moms of the non-talkers no choice but to consult the moms of the excessive-talkers to find out what is happening at school. (“I can’t believe that the school was on lockdown for four hours and she didn’t even tell me!”) So how can you get a child who doesn’t volunteer information to start opening up?

The truth is that it is idealistic to think that the best conversations are born naturally; teachers and trainers and bosses facilitate successful discussions. In other words, there is a framework in place before people actually start talking. The facilitator may not know how the conversation will develop, but he has thought about where it will take place and how it will get started.

In our family, we have found four types of conversations to be the most productive in terms of learning more about our kids. Maybe some of these will work for you this year, too.

The Dinner Table Conversation

We attempt to sit down at the dinner table every night. Sometimes that means two of us. Sometimes that means three of us. Several nights a week, all four of us get to sit down to eat and talk together. The nice thing about the dinner table conversation is that it can be part of a predictable routine for your child, and some kids are more open and comfortable the more predictable life is. If your family can’t eat together every night, maybe you can set aside certain nights that are nonnegotiable family nights, even if that means eating unusually early or late on those evenings.

Some nights, our dinner table conversations are vibrant, and some nights getting kids to answer questions is like pulling teeth. If your kids tend to give terse answers, try something new. First, make sure that you are asking open-ended questions that require longer answers. A question like, “How was school today?” will most likely elicit a response of “Good,” “Fine,” or “Awful,” and then the conversation has stalled. Try asking questions that require more of an investment from your kid, like “Tell me about something that you wish you could have changed today” or “Tell me about how you helped somebody after you left this morning.” We have also experienced success with asking each person to share a high and low point of the day and with using a conversation jar (a jar filled with interesting conversation starters). I know other families that challenge one another to identify things that they are grateful for each day or people and situations that need prayer. The key is to create a routine and stick to it so that your kids know that these conversations are important, and then experiment with creative ways to glean information so that your kids don’t feel like they are under interrogation.

The Let’s-Go-For-A-Walk Conversation

Last week, I took my boys out to lunch. This should have been a fun end-of-summer activity, but, frankly, we were all a little grumpy. The food was good. The conversation, not so much. The boys were irritating each other just by being alive, and my patience gauge was on E. I was irritated that I had spent money on a special lunch that nobody appreciated, and this just goes to show you that even though we value the dinner table conversations, they aren’t always everything that I hope for.

On our way home, we decided to stop at a metro park where we could walk the trails and get some exercise for an hour. We weren’t really in the mood to spend more time together, but we were feeling the crunch of summer vacation coming to an end, so we did it. We chose a trail that traced the path of the river and spent some time skipping rocks, exploring, and just soaking up the sun. Somewhere along the way, the boys started talking. They talked a lot. They talked about the upcoming school year and a movie we had seen and things that they want to do as a family. It occurred to me that just being on a walk under a blue sky dramatically changed the mood for all of us and opened a line of communication. Lightbulb moment. I think I need to take more walks with my boys.

To sum it up, spend some time outside together. Maybe that means taking one of the kids with you when you walk the dog each night. Maybe that means planning a trip to a park once a week, just to walk and chat away from the hustle and bustle of the neighborhood. Maybe you could accomplish the same goal by going hiking or riding bikes or golfing together. I spent, or actually wasted, some money at the restaurant that day when the best part of our day was free!

The Bedtime Conversation

Every once in a while, one of my kids will open up and want to talk at bedtime. I will admit that this is the absolute worst time for me to have a deep conversation because I am exhausted when everyone crawls into bed. However, I know that if one of my kids starts a bedtime conversation after our prayers and goodnights, something is REALLY bothering him, and he may be so worried that he can’t fall asleep because of it. I usually listen for a few minutes, soothe his nerves, and then create a plan to discuss it further tomorrow. Thank goodness that works for my kids – because I am seriously useless after 9 p.m.

We don’t spend a lot of time talking at bedtime, but I know some moms who enforce early bedtimes so that they can snuggle up and talk to their children at night. If that is the time when your children are most likely to open up, then maybe bedtime conversations need to be part of your family’s routine.

The You’re-Stuck-in-the-Car-With-Me-So-We-Might-As-Well-Talk Conversation

This kind of conversation is becoming more and more useful to me as my kids get older, and I think there are two reasons.

First, as my kids get older, we seem to spend more time in the car. Almost every evening, I am chauffeuring somebody to something, and sometimes that is the only time in the entire day when the two of us are alone. This is a great time to have a heart-to-heart, especially if the day has been so busy that dinner conversation is not an option. If your kid will open up on the way to basketball practice, then it may be worth stepping out of the carpool in order to put that quiet time to good use.

The You’re-Stuck-in-the-Car-With-Me Conversation is also fantastic when you need to talk to your older child about something difficult. I don’t care how open and honest you are with your children, some conversations are just HARD. You know it’s true. My older son and I have had our best growing-up-is-rough conversations and things-you-should-know-before-you’re-a-teenager conversations in the car during the two-hour drive to Grandma’s house. I recommend planning individual road trips with your kids every once in a while and ditching the electronics on the way. If you are brave, let your child ask you anything. This will give you a true glimpse of what is on that kid’s mind and will reassure your child that the lines of communication run both ways. Try not to seem surprised or offended by whatever comes up; your disapproval is the fastest way to send the conversation into a shutdown.

Aside from the fact that you are stuck, the other benefit of the car conversation is that you don’t even have to look at each other if either of you starts feeling uncomfortable!

If you have other ideas to help kids open up, please leave a comment! Most importantly, don’t be discouraged if your first attempt at starting a family conversation doesn’t go smoothly. It may take some time to figure out what works for your kids, but don’t minimize the impact it has when they know that you are trying!

Join us tomorrow for Tip #7! Only three tips left!

photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/98682907@N00/3817165257″>Set</a> via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a> <a href=”https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/”>(license)</a>