Monday, June 13, 2016

I do not want my children to grow up in fear

I have taken the last 2 days to slowly process the events in Orlando. I grew up in Orlando, I lived 2 miles from the site of the shooting for the majority of my childhood. I worked at the hospital, in the very trauma center that many of the victims were brought to. I drove by that night club every time I went to work for seven years. I look at the footage of the scene and it is all very familiar, I lived much of my life in that area. It is all very real because the horror did not happen in some far off land, but in a place full of memories. 

How do I, as a person, but even more, a mother, not live in constant fear of the "what ifs." How do I raise my children to not be ruled by fear. I have been chewing on these thoughts almost the whole time I have been a mom, but even more in the last few days. 

I tend to live in a reality of being blissfully ignorant. Some of this is because, in this season of life, I live in a vortex of mickey mouse clubhouse and sponge bob, but some of it is by choice. I don't care to know all the evils of the world. I don't care to stay current on all of fox news. Some may say this is irresponsible of me, but for me, I feel that (other than praying) I can't do much to change the circumstances, It will do me no good to have all the details of the horrors of this world and I do not want to become hard and calloused into thinking everything is going to hell in a hand basket. We live in a fallen world. What I will do though, is try to raise a generation of world changers. 

My adult life, and the direction I took in it, was hugely impacted by one single event. If I had been ruled by fear the trajectory of my life would have drastically changed. When I was 13 I was dancing…it was a monday night in September. The dance school I attended was held in a church. That night, as we rehearsed a routine, I heard the scream that I have only heard a few times and hope never to hear again. The scream of a mother as her child's life is in eminent danger and close to death. My class immediately stopped and started praying. Suddenly, some people ran in and screamed, "does anyone know CPR?" I had just finished a babysitting course and was certified in CPR. I raised my hand. It was almost supernatural, I don't know if it was because everything was happening so quickly, but I believe it was because the Lord was with me and truly directing my steps. I (and my best friend to date) and one other friend, were dragged to the nursery room. The big brother had accidentally pushed a large playhouse over onto his littler sister. We immediately started CPR. I will never forget that night. I will never forget the 3 year old laying lifeless on the floor. I will never forget the puddle of blood  on the floor growing larger by the minute. I will never forget the sound of bubbles in that sweet babies chest as we performed CPR. I will never forget her little brown curls soaked in her own blood. I will never forget when EMS rushed in and shoved us to the side, we started praying and sobbing as I looked down at my hands and pink ballet tights covered in someone else's blood. I will never forget sitting on the couch later that night and my mom and dad, on either side of me, holding me, as they told me that sweet 3 year old did not make it. This was a defining moment in my life. As I sit here and write this with tears in my eyes it is not lost on me that, though this was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do, God used it for good. As I processed that night over and over I remember always coming back to the idea that God called me to be a nurse and i KNEW if could do it because of that horrible night and the grace God gave me (and my friends) to fight for that little girl. I was not ruled by fear, but by hope.

I realize that God gave me the gift (or curse) of compartmentalizing. I can handle situations calmly and quickly and remove the emotions of the situation until a later time. That was a huge reason I was able to be a pediatric nurse for so long. As I process the events of the other night I keep coming back to the idea that we cannot be ruled by fear, but by hope. That one night was instrumental in instilling a feeling in me that fear is a real thing, but it would define me or what I could do. I want my children to grow to be wise, but I do not want them to wake up each day scared to go about their day. I don't want their decisions to be ruled by the fear of possible pain (whatever that looks like). I want them to be brave. This is so hard to say as a mother. I don't want my children to ever be hurt of be put in harms way, but if we are ruled by the fear of the "what ifs" we/they will never make a difference. 

Clay and I are very careful about what we allow our children to be exposed to, but we also don't want them to be so sheltered that they can't be effective to navigate this messy thing called life. We talked with the boys about what happened a few days ago. We told them that a very bad person made a very bad choice and killed and hurt a lot of people. We let them ask questions and sit quietly and ponder. Cooper, who is naturally a worry wart asked, "how do we know people like that won't come and hurt us?" I told him I didn't know, but I told him when we get that tingling feeling of fear or worry in our tummy we need to think, "is what we are doing wise," if the answer is yes, then the next question needs to be, "Is what I am doing worthwhile?" if the answer to that is yes, you do it. I told him to always pray when you feel scared or anxious, but don't let that rule your thought life. God has called us to make a difference and sometimes that is scary, but just because it is scary doesn't mean we shouldn't do it. 

As our family prays for the victims, their families, and the workers that will forever be changed by the events in Orlando, I will also be praying for my children to not live in fear of what could happen in this scary, fallen world, but that they would grow to be mighty, brave world changers that are full of hope and joy for all that God has in store for them. I will pray for you, to not be afraid, but to have hope.

Thursday, June 9, 2016

The yes mom.

Whenever I start to think about a blog post I feel like its all a muddled mess in my head. So random and I jump around constantly….this blog post is still kind of muddled. I also feel like I always have to qualify every blog with "I am no expert at this life thing, just me being transparent about how I do this crazy life thing." 

I get asked a lot how I "mother" this zoo. All of my kids are crazy different..all of them, not one alike (that would be much too easy!). I vividly remember growing up thinking that, somehow, I wanted to have obedient and respectful kids, but kids with their own personalities that didn't feel squashed by what I wanted them to be. Then I married Clay….Mr personality. Now I have 5 very passionate, full of personalty humans. I mean, I can't even half the time! Now most of this parenting stuff is flying by the seat of my pants, but some of it is very intentional. The more kids I have the more I CRAVE order and control. I definitely think running a house full of humans requires an element of order, if not I would quickly be on the next episode at hoarders (I cannot lie, when I watch that show I feel like I totally have my act together!). We run a tight ship in this place. We have a schedule and rules and my kids know what is expected of them. With all that said I want to be the yes mom.

The longer I do this life thing the more I realize its not very easy. In my 33 years I've experienced some really hard and painful things, but in the grand scheme of things I live the dream. Even "living the dream" this adulating thing is hard! 

I feel like I have 3 "Megans" living inside me. 
- Pinterest Megan…the one that walks out the door (leaving behind a spotless, perfectly decorated house with a delicious dinner simmering in the crackpot), my kids are dressed perfectly, hair combed, matching shoes AND socks (my kids hate wearing socks…hence the stench that follows them if they wear sneakers), skipping to the car ready for the amazing crafty activities of the day.
- Apathetic Megan (probably the most dominant Megan)…I don't care…as long as all my humans are alive and have bathed in the last week I'm good! Apple squeezers are the fruit of the day and I wave as all the people stare and count. 
- In the middle…I try so hard every day to find the balance of the 2 extreme Megans.

As I try to find this balance I have realized that I want to be the yes mom. This means that Pinterest Megan is going to get squashed. EVERY.SINGLE.DAY I have to try and silence the pinterest Megan….If I want to be the yes mom I'm not going to sweat the small stuff. In our house that means you can pick your haircut. Dear Lord, 2 years of Cooper's signature haircut about did me in! Praise the Lord he decided to cut it today! It means my kids can pick out their clothes (other than Sunday and a few other occasions). I'm pretty sure Jude wore the same 2 pairs of shorts for 3 weeks straight (the pinterest mom may accidentally throw away said nasty clothes after week 3) and a felt red cape. It means BK can have free reign (in her designated areas) to craft however she wants. Good night….you have no idea you are a control freak until you try to do a craft with a kid….it might just kill you! Being a yes mom means, when my kids get money I let them pick what they want, 1 million pieces and all (the pinterest mom in me throws the whole shebang away as soon as so many pieces are missing its not functioning…when said child is not looking and it's stuffed in the bottom of the trash can never to be found again!). It means letting my little people pick what activity or sport they would like to do….even if I know they will probably be terrible at it. It means, letting my children help me cook…OMG, this one makes me hot. Like inside I feel like I'm going to internally combust! 

As I fight these Megans I remind myself that my children will have to adult much too soon. They will hear "no's" for the rest of their lives. I do want them to learn to work through things and problem solve, but honestly, their is a lot of time for that. I want them to be kids. I want them to remember being able to experience lots of things the way they want to. I want them to grow into who God wants them to be gently and happily. So every day, before I say no, I weigh if it really matters. If it makes a mess it makes a mess, it's just a good opportunity to teach them to clean. So, when I'm out and BK is wearing her black, knee high boots with cut off jeans in the dead of summer, just know I cringed, laid out 5 super cute outfits as alternatives and then let her walk out the door….this is why Rose will be dressed to the nines until she won't let me dress her anymore! The pinterest Megan will not be completely squashed!