Go find your Willie, before the sun sets

My Sunday's have changed drastically.

They were once always the same. It started the night before, laying out clothes for the kids. Michael was in charge of ironing. At some churches, he would have to get there early on Sundays. Those were the times I wanted to kill myself. Getting all of the kids ready by myself. Fed, changed, whatever. Getting myself ready. Making sure I had whatever I needed to sing/play guitar/teach.

When he became a pastor of an institutional church, he refused to go to church on Sunday mornings without his family. We all got there a bit early, but always with him. Always. He rode with his family. None of this getting-there-early-to-prepare/pray/hide from the children stuff. I cannot begin to explain how much I respected him for that decision. It made his life harder. He put us first. Amazing.

Now, Sunday's are never the same. Last week I visited a church in Austin, while my husband was at home with the kids. Sometimes we gather as a family on Sundays. Sometimes we gather on other days. Sometimes we sing together. Sometimes we read together. Sometimes Michael is filling in for a pastor somewhere in the area. Sometimes we go with him. Sometimes we don't. Sometimes we have guests arriving at the park. Sometimes you can hear the crickets chirping.

Today, Michael is at a church about 90 miles away. The rest of us are just chilling. Rocky was headed down to use the park restrooms (because of a recent dialoguing-with-pee episode) when Willie stopped him. Sent him back down to our house with a styrofoam cup to see if I had any coffee. Poured him some and told Rocky to tell him I spit in it. Watched him out the window as they laughed together.

Twenty minutes later, the kids are yelling that Willie is back. That's my clue. Willie just needed to hang out with someone today. So, I headed out back with my cup of coffee and sat on the steps so we could talk, and he could smoke.

So it went for about the next hour. Since we've moved into the house, our interactions are not so constant. I'm glad he showed up to let me know he just needed to connect. Granted, it can be tough. The cigarette smoke always gives me a headache. He had a lot of drainage today, and he does not use kleenex. I mean, why would you waste trees when you can just depress one nostril and blow out the other side just fine ... without even breaking your conversation?

And then, there is the hacking and hacking and ... yeah ... upchucking of coffee a few times. Again, without even breaking conversation.

It was the conversation that pushed me through the desire to dry heave. We talked about family and the holidays. Talked about God, and drinking, and sobriety. Had a very fiery exchange on legalizing marijuana (fiery, because we both agree it should be legal, and were going off on the nimrods who still make it their crusade). Which led to talks about his constant pain in his legs. Why he quit drinking. What his life was like before, and how now - even in the weathered body and upchucking and scraggliness - his life is so much fuller and brighter and enjoyable.

There is nothing ... no program, no curriculum, no order of service ... which can replace the connection of two humans. So, if you did a lot today, but forgot to do the most important thing ... connecting ... go find your Willie before the sun sets.

Oh my cow. That's the official welcometomybrain.net t-shirt!

"Go find your Willie, before the sun sets."

Cafe Press ... I'm on it!

UPDATE:

You can mock me if you want. I will completely understand.

The Official T-shirts of "Welcome to my Brain Dot Net"

Screw Black Friday

It's 9:06 am, and I am still in my p.j.'s.

Still in my bed.

We've told the kids they can have toast for breakfast (meaning: fix it yourself).

There is absolutely nothing we need to buy today - except some milk, but you know what I mean.

There is nothing I need.

Nothing.

And things I want? Maybe a full-body massage. Something beneficial to my health and totally consumable. We are still downsizing. We have so very much.

I am so very happy. Content.

Delighted, even.

Magical Milk Pic-o-the-Week

(photo by reader and new online pal who I stalk regularly, over at We Are Fambly)

My favorite pics are from actual, real-live readers. So, don't think you can't submit one ... cause you can. christinemoers [at] hotmail [dot] com

stupid, stupid, stupid

I watched the 6 yr old devour almost a whole watermelon by herself. I joked about the insane amount of pee we would be seeing later. ha. ha. So funny.

This morning, "Mom, the hallway smells like poop."

Eh. Maybe someone has gas.

Another kid, "Mom, I'm pretty sure the girl's room smells like poop."

Alright, lets go look and see if one of the cats had the runs during the night.

6 yr old is still asleep. Looks up at me groggily, with face and hands covered in poop ... and all the delightful details of said poop.

So, the ha-ha-so-funny watermelon gorging ended up in a surprise middle-of-the-night explosive poop. My heavy sleeper did what any God-fearing 6 yr old does during the night, and played in her pants while sleeping like a log.

OH, and guess how I found out our bathroom shower is painfully clogged?

Mmmm. Hmmmm.

I think it should be a law of nature, that when you deal with the kind of stuff you have in our home, there should no other "stuff." None! Somebody make that happen, K?

Oh, and send me something to burn the smell out of my nose. Thanks.

Magical Milk Pic-o-the-Week

Refugee Lapland woman, known as a skolt, breastfeeding her baby during the Russo-Finnish War in 1940.


(photo by Carl Mydans)

Homeschooling trauma

Corey once posted on how well unschooling can compliment children with a history of trauma (and I could not find the specific post, Corey - sorry!). Children learn ... like, all the time. Many of you have asked about the challenges of educating a child who is doing everything they can to push you away. Here are my thoughts.

First - stop worrying about it! Really. You will not be able to gauge where a child is academically if they do not want you to. So, sneak in the back door.

One of our children sits with us every day during school right now. They can participate in everything we do. If they start to disrupt or try to engage in a battle, I usually just say, "That's cool. If you want to take a break from school, go ahead. Would you like to get a book and just hang out for awhile?"

And that's that.

They are kids. They absorb so much. I will offer to help if they are struggling (even if I know it is more of an emotional struggle). I avoid doing things that promote too much competition, as that can be a trigger. We do not keep grades. It's all about experiencing and learning together. No need for a battle. If it's too much, then they can take a break.

Unschooling, my friends. Our kids are sponges.

Because of the many special needs in our home, my children thrive most with structure. So, we will always have organized schoolwork (and bedtimes and excursions, etc.). One of my children once chose to sit out for an entire week of school. The next week I was reading a book to everyone and mispronounced one of the names. This child playfully corrected me. They heard everything we did. They absorbed it all.

I am not worried about their education. I am worried about their attachment and trust and ability to love without fear.


(photo by ivan petrov)

Trauma Bonds - You Gotta' Keep 'Em Separated

Trauma bonds.

Mmmmm. A phrase which warms the cockles of some of our hearts. *cough* Children who come from traumatic histories share a bond ... a trauma bond. For children who have lived together during that trauma, it can be even more pronounced.

What does this mean - this "trauma bond" thing?

Well, it means that one child can have an emotionally strong day and really be rocking along quite nicely. Then their sibling starts to crash. The sounds, the familiarity, the flashbacks ... it can cause them both to tank. They play off each other. It can be a very, very toxic combination. And if they are BOTH already having a bad day - yowza.

I have watched it in my home, and it still saddens and fascinates me. The trauma bond between Mar and Rocky was so intense that it hindered Rocky's healing for a very long time. Mar took the big sister role, even though he is three years older. He was terrified to stand on his own and move forward without her. She was all he had ever had, and he wasn't sure he wanted to shift the perceived power and control onto himself. He wasn't sure he could trust us. He didn't trust his sister, but she was all he knew.

THEN, when he did start to make those emotional moves away from her - YIKES. She was not too happy. That was yet another time of extreme regression. It was u.g.l.y.

How did we balance it and get them to this point? Well, first and foremost, we kept their lives very separated for a very long time. They could not be in the same room together without an adult, or they would be fighting. Period. It was constant. And when I say constant, and you think, "Heck, my kids fight all the time." Um ... please understand that you are probably using the word "constant" as an exaggeration. I am not.

Not even close.

Rocky and Mar could not say anything in a kind voice to one another. It was rare, and usually superficial. Yet they craved to be together. They were feeding off the trauma. We had to carefully determine who sat where at meals around the table. They could not be right next to one another or across from one another. They were not allowed to play together. It was just too much. We had to keep them separated so they could practice interacting with people in an emotionally healthy way. Then, when that was much more routine, we started to widen the boundaries, so they could practice being together.

That was a year and half ago. Now, Rocky and Mar can play together unsupervised. Now, they fight in age appropriate ways, although they kick tail when it comes to resolving conflict (that's what all that therapy and therapeutic parenting will do for you!). If one of them has a bad day, we still sometimes will have to come in and make the decision for them that they are being a trigger to each other, and have them play apart. Yet, night and day - NIGHT AND DAY from where they used to be.

The last year of my life has certainly been the most exhausting year of my life. It has taken so much of my time, to provide a safe place for my kids to heal. Yet, I have taken it very seriously. I have taken on very few outside commitments and built in times of rest and relaxation from my kids on a VERY regular basis. I have made myself available to them, so if we need to stop, drop and have an hour of therapeutic intervention on a Tuesday morning, we can do it. It is for a season.

And while they started separate, they have found their way back to each other and can finally share true love and a healthy bond. Totally worth it.

Come Out and Play - The Offspring


(photo by Michal Zacharzewski)

The Making of Christine's Dreads

WFMW

Magical Milk Pic-o-the-Week

This photo is of a mother named Norah. She lives in Uganda. During this little snippet of time, she was nursing two of her babies ... she has triplets.

(photo by DrSmyhre)

A day I have never dreaded

It has been years in the yearning.

I started my dreads this past week.

We are slowly adding them. I say "slowly," because I am doing them and involving my kids as much as they like. My chocolate girls, in particular, are a vital part of this process. I tell them I love their hair, just exactly the way it is. I hug their braids as they pile down from their scalp. I giggle with them when they stick up after a good night's sleep. I love feeling that puffy goodness, which turns and flips in all different directions.

And now I reflect that beauty.

So many other reasons for locking my hair ... many of which involve a simplified lifestyle, and no longer being enslaved to my roots.

So, there you go. My big hair announcement.




Happy Monday.

My thoughts on "The Gay's" adopting and marrying

I love, love, LOVE it when I hear someone use the phrase "The Gay's." Sounds like you're talking about "The Partridge Family." No, it's not politically correct by any means, but I will say it's one of the cutest forms of uncomfortable labeling I have ever heard.

"The Gay's."

heh. Still makes me giggle. Kinda' like how our pal,Willie, refers to my youngest as "The Little Black One." Soooooo off the charts inappropriate, but genuine, none-the-less. And it is said endearingly.

If you know me personally, or for any length of time, you know that I think it's fine for anyone to adopt ... as long as they have proven themselves capable. Period. Beyond that, I have no argument. So, yeah. That means I'm cool with "The Gay's" raising kids. I'm cool with single parents raising kids. I'm cool with grandparents raising kids. Every child and every home is different. No system is perfect and there are mess-up's. Sometimes there are catastrophic mess-up's. Yet, there are wonderful adults who daily commit themselves to the lifetime of children ... and it is beautiful.

Not everyone SHOULD adopt, but for the people who are qualified, prepared and willing, I think those children are blessed. If I thought that only those who believe and follow Jesus Christ, and are active in their local church are the only people who should be parents ... then I should be trying to pass laws to stop any other person in any other circumstances from adopting.

Yet, that's not what people do. Their concerns just lie with "The Gay's."

I believe you can have a different theology ... heck, a different faith system (or no faith system) from me and be a great parent. I know lots of Christ followers. I would not give all of them a recommendation to an adoption agency. Not by a long shot. Wouldn't give all of my gay friends a recommendation to an adoption agency. And even in that, it doesn't mean those people won't reach a point where they would be able to give an adopted child all they need.

Now, because I believe it is absolutely okay for "The Gay's" to adopt, I also believe it is absolutely okay for them to marry.

Ya' know, if marriage had only ever been something practiced by a certain religion, and those churches were the only ones to perform the ceremonies, and any rights or privileges were only church-related, then it wouldn't even be a question. Yet, marriage in America is all twisted up in our system of government. If you are married, you receive, on average, 400 legal and economic rights and privileges on the state level and 1,000 on the federal level. To deny these rights and privileges does not only affect the parents, but also the children in their homes. It hurts families.

I'm not okay with that. I want to strengthen families, even the ones who do not look like mine. So, I will vote and share my beliefs accordingly. I DO want people to change their mind on these topics, but I also know that others want ME to change my mind on these topics. It just comes down to the vote.

I also realize that some of you have a very burning question: Does Christine believe homosexuality is a sin?

For me, the more thought-provoking question is: Why have I never had a gay friend ask me that? Not once. Ever.

There are some who would say they don't ask because they don't want to know the truth. Oh my goodness, I wholeheartedly disagree. I cannot think of one single friend of mine, who is homosexual, who did NOT grow up in a Christian home ... not one (and I have a slew of "The Gay's" in my circle). They did VBS and Bible Drill and Catechism and church camp. I know that because I know THEM. We know each other. We talk a lot about God and church and Jesus. We also talk about kids and spouses and grocery lists. We have relationship together. We share life. I learn about their history and beliefs and they learn about mine. That is how we get our questions answered.

"The Gay's" ... every single one I know (and I'm sure there are plenty of which I'm unaware in my life), have experienced hurt and pain and confusion beyond anything I can comprehend. They are not considered equal to the rest of us. They lose their jobs. They, and their children, are harassed. They have been demonized. They are labeled as perverts and pedophiles. Statistics are skewed by those who claim the name of Christ to validate these lies. It is a big, horrible, giant mess ...

and I think we keep asking the wrong questions.

"I cannot separate my faith in Jesus of Nazareth from my everyday life, conduct and speech.

I cannot justify loving only those who love me, aiding only my friends, and praying only for fellow Christians.

I have no desire to carry the name of the Son of God to the level of my own base intentions."

-Larry Poland

(photo by am y)

If you build it ...

Build-a-Salad night.




My kids love it. I just keep it bright and fun.

baby spinach
black beans
corn
shredded carrots
sunflower seeds

Doesn't hurt that their parents push them out of the way to make a plate first.

I'm KIDDING.

*ahem* Maybe.

A few questions

How is it this girl can be refused health care coverage ... because of the medications she takes ... to help her with her disorders? How is it they will ONLY cover her once she has been off those meds for six months?

Why are people questioning the need for health care for everyone?


Maybe it's because ... it's not your kid.



Now for a "Where's Waldo," of sorts. Can you find the kids being raised by the married homosexuals?



Come on ... they stand out, don't they?

No?

You mean, they're loved and cared for and have a rockin'-A family?

Really?



I find myself a wee bit frustrated today.

Magical Milk Pic-o-the-Week

(photo by my favorite Kristen at Rage Against the Minivan as well as Mama Manifesto)

Yelling. is. not. okay.

There is quite a trend in parenting these days. It's the thought that yelling is a perfectly acceptable form of correction and/or redirection ... perhaps even necessary.

I'm a reformed yeller. I have even shared my ridiculously simplified steps on how I stopped yelling at my kids. It's the "Step #1" which seems to throw a lot of people: you have to believe that yelling is not okay.

Sadly, that's just not the case.

A few nights ago Twitchy Mac came home from her musical rehearsal in tears. They are starting tech rehearsals and the stress level is about to climb. One of the adults started "laying down the law." Lots of empty threats were tossed around, including "If you make even the slightest whisper, we'll kick you out of the show."

99.9% of the kids blew this off. They KNEW these were idle threats. They're used to it. Happens all the time at school. My neurologically challenged child, however, takes things literally - especially with someone new in her life. By the end of the night, she believed she might get booted out of the show if she blinked too loudly, and that the director really was going to turn into a monster.

A quick email, and a short heart-to-heart between director and Twitchy Mac the following day helped ease her mind. Yet, when she came home she said, "It was nice of him to talk to me, but something he said really bothered me. He said he HAS to be mean or the kids won't listen."

And her face ... oh my cow, her face said it all. It was the look of an 11-year-old thinking, "How is it I'm smarter than a grown-up about something?"

Move forward one MORE day, and she came skipping in. The director had said anyone who was disruptive backstage would be asked to sit out in the audience for awhile. And it happened ... AND HE DID IT. She was so proud of him. Now, THAT got the attention of the kids. He actually DID something. She said it made a massive impact on everyone. I was also there last night and heard him speaking to the kids in a very firm, but controlled way, and the threats had been completely eliminated. And there was a stage full of 20+ grade schoolers who were attentive and happy.

My husband subbed at a grade school a few weeks ago and witnessed an assistant principal literally in a grade school kids' face yelling. No one batted an eye. Teachers ... students ... just kept moving through the hall. It was obvious that this was the norm.

We have had an incident with a teacher who yells. Other parents said things like, "Well, that's just her 'way.'" I vehemently disagreed. Guess that's just "my way."

So, the main reason adults yell at children? I believe it is because they truly think it is the only thing which works. I'm here to tell you that is the biggest bunch of hooey on the planet.

Not only is it not the only effective means of correction and redirection, but it is also a bad thing. It is bad. It brings harm.

When you are yelling, you are not in control of yourself.

When you are yelling, you are teaching your children to yell ... and some of us have been certified instructors!

When you yell at your children to control them, but do not allow them to yell to control one another, you are a hypocrite.

When you are yelling, you are doing it to make yourself feel better.

When you are yelling, you tend to say things you do not mean or you cannot enforce.

When you are yelling, your entire intention is to hurt and/or frighten.

And I have every right to say all of that because that is EXACTLY why I yelled. It is exactly why I still crave the yelling. I want to yell. I want to yell almost every day. My husband wants to yell. It would feel SO GOOD! Come on, you have read some of the stuff my kids like to do to me. Oh MY, would it feel so good.

Doesn't mean my husband and I have not hit our limit and made the mistake of yelling in the middle of a battle with a child. Yet, it rarely happens now. When it DOES happen, our children have permission to immediately correct us and ask us to change our voice (just like they are expected to do). Once we have calmed down, we apologize to the person we offended in front of everyone. We then (just like our kids are required to do) must do something to show kindness and love to that person.

Yeah ... if you're having a hard time stopping, try THAT once or twice. Painfully humbling and humiliating. Caused me and the hubster to always work REALLY HARD on this.

Yes, yelling may very well get you the immediate result you are looking for ... for awhile. Your children will learn to shut down just to endure the tirades.

When I have had a raging child, I remain the complete opposite. I almost speak in a whisper. One of us is going to drag the other to our side. Sure enough, when my kids finally realize I will not join them, they finally join me. When I instill consequences, I say it in a firm voice most times ... a soft voice other times ... depends on the situation.

If a child smarts off to my face, I take a deep breath and say something like, "Well, that's certainly one way to address your mother. Too bad you did not choose one which involves no correction. Oh well."

I'm not some magical person. I did not quit yelling overnight. I still want to yell almost every single day. Yet, it is easier now, because I have practiced NOT yelling. It feels weird now (even though the temptation is JUST as strong).

I quit because it goes against everything I am called to be, and everything my children can be. I encourage you to stop with the yelling. I promise you, it will be one of the hardest things you have ever done in your life. Guaranteed.

Do it anyway.



(photo by Betty Miller)