On My Way to the Party...

Saturday April 2, 2011
This is a new experience for me, but I'm on my way to a party -- the Ultimate Blog Party 2011! Let me go read the directions again...

Okay, I'm back. The directions say I'm supposed to write a little about what my blog is about. See that verse up there at the top? That's my goal -- to encourage moms and get them united in love. And if you get some inspiration and a smile (and a well-placed tear or two) along the way, well, I've done my job.

So, if you're new here, I say, "Welcome!" I'm a boy mom, I have a page of posts just for you, and I've written a book about mothering boys. You'll see that in the sidebar. My hope is to bring encouragement to all moms -- whether your children are infants, toddlers, teens, or even out of the nest. Because I figure, once a mom, always a mom. There's also a search bar you can use to look for posts that might encourage you.

I'd love to hear from you! If you want to join in the party, just click on the badge below or visit Five Minutes for Mom here.


Nice to meet you!

We Ask the Same Questions

Monday March 28, 2011
I visited one of my favorite blog friends the other day, and her question echoed in my heart.

Corrine wrote, “They’re kids, big kids. Doing big kid things. How did this happen?” Her post was accompanied by precious pictures, too. I love visiting Corrine. She always makes me smile, sometimes through my tears.

But that day, her words echoed in my heart. I’ve said them; I’ve lived them.

There are decades between the two of us, but so much is the same. The sands in the hourglass seem such a mystery. We’re just living, doing, being, and all of the sudden – they’re big. They’ve grown. Then, they mature.

I absolutely adore the baby days. Toddlers crack me up. Preschoolers are so entertaining. During the grade school years, you see so much growth. We suffer together through middle school, but smile and sigh when they emerge. Then there are those people who inhabit your house – at times – during the high school years.

Much of it is incredibly hard, but that just makes the inevitable beautiful shine all the brighter. It all fills up your heart.

No matter where you are right now, don’t dread the future. Enjoy today and welcome tomorrow. All of the growing and learning and loving ahead is a wonder to behold!

I'm posting today over at the Mother of Boys Society and there's a giveaway --come see me!

No Mom Is an Island

Monday January 24, 2010

Is January taking its toll on you?

I know – it’s hard to get out. You don’t spend time at the playground or the park like you do in spring and summer.

It’s easy to get a bit closed off and neglect your need for community, for fellowship.

Don’t wait for warm weather to come. Reach out now. Chances the mom you call will be longing for community, too.

Maybe you’re out there every day – at work, with others. But you’re still going it alone. It gets lonely. You start thinking you’re the only one who feels the way you do. But don’t believe the lie.

From time immemorial, moms have doubted themselves. The best way to expel those doubts is to express them to another mom. You’ll quickly find that you’re in familiar territory.

And there’s safety in numbers – or at least, empathy.

John Donne said it best as he penned this in his Meditation XVII:

“No man is an island entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less…”

So, remember. No mom is an island. Not one of us is perfect, but we can be there for each other. We can learn from each other. If one be washed away or disregarded, motherhood will be the less.

Reach past the mid-winter blues, past the sameness of January, past all the self-doubt just piling up – and reach out for another mom or two. You’ll be glad you did.

Can you remember a time you were bolstered by community?

We Walk This Way But Once

Monday October 4, 2010

We walk through colicky nights, potty training, teen angst. Only once?

Yes, I’ve had four sons. And I walked those paths over and again, but not once was the path identical.

Sometimes I wished for a matching trail. If I could have duplicated my first compliant two-year-old, life would have been easier.

Other times I prayed for a distinctly different route – as I walked the floor with my first (oh-so-colicky) son.

But each time, each stage, each child – something was different.

Sometimes it was the child. I tried what worked with #1 to no avail with #2. Different child, different path.

Sometimes it was the trail. There were factors and issues surrounding me and my child that weren’t the same.

And sometimes it was me.
I had more experience – or less. I second-guessed myself more – or less.

And sometimes I had learned. From my experiences and from others.

So if you’re a mom who’s on a smooth path right now – enjoy it. Learn from it. Bank up those experiences.

If you’re a mom who’s climbing hand-over-hand up a rocky path as we speak, just hang on. Don’t give up. Once you reach the next bend, things may just even out. And your next child could be a piece of cake at this stage.

Most of all, no matter what the trail is like for you right now, find a way to enjoy it. Celebrate its difference; savor its similarity.

And reach back to help another mom along the way.

Have you seen differences in your path? (My colicky infant was a compliant two-year-old; his next brother was an angel baby who turned into a headstrong toddler.) Is there a stage you worry about facing?

How did you cope? Was there a helping hand for you along the way?

Words To Start Your Week

Monday September 27, 2010

"Lay hold of something that will help you,
and then use it to help somebody else."

Booker T. Washington

Remember a time you needed encouragement and found just the right word?
Pass it on.

Take a look around. See a mom who needs encouragement or just a smile and a kind word? You know, the little nod that says, "I've been there" and implies, "You'll make it through, too."

Sometimes it's just listening that means the world to an outnumbered mom. She doesn't expect you to have all the answers -- she just wants to know that someone cares enough to listen.

It's amazing what a little compassion can do -- both for the giver and the receiver.

Give it a try this week.

Letting Go: A Bittersweet Blessing

Monday August 16, 2010



I’m writing this on Sunday evening and it’s been an emotionally draining day. After all, it’s not every day you send a son off to college.

He leaves tomorrow, and I feel like Andy’s mom in Toy Story 3. Remember that scene when she goes in his room and has a flashback of his boyhood and growing up years? Yep, that’s pretty much been me all day.

Tomorrow is the first day of school for me, so there’s anticipation all over the place – and so much to do!

It’s so bittersweet, this growing up thing. He’s doing what we’ve raised them to do, and I’m so proud of him! But I miss his little hand in mine, chubby arms around my neck, and that unmistakable sweet baby scent.

I know it’s the way of things. It’s a natural part of life, and I’d feel I had missed so much if he never got to this point. But my heart aches, all the same.

So what do I do? I open my tightly clenched fists and let go. I look up the path, and there’s another mom who’s been there, with her hand outstretched. I drop my pride and accept her support.

But I don’t stop looking – I glance behind me and see a mom who needs encouragement. What good is my experience if I don’t share it? And personally, I look up, for I know that’s where my real help comes from.

The ache subsides. It will hit me again at times, but I’m encouraged.
I know I’m not alone.

Lessons from the Class of 2010

Tuesday June 1, 2010
If you read my Friday post, you know I was away last week, helping chaperone my son’s senior trip. I teach at the high school he attends, so I watched many of these kids grow up alongside him and had most of them in my classroom.

It was a great time! We took a charter bus and ended up at LongView Ranch in Moshein, Tennessee. It’s a beautiful place – bunkhouses, horses, hills. Just what these Florida kids needed.

There are many stories to tell, but today’s lesson comes from our hike up the mountain. It applies to not just the Class of 2010, but to the moms among us, too.

We started up the mountain as one big group. There were walkie-talkies interspersed between the two male chaperones and our guide. There was so much to see on the mountain, but it seemed to me like we were climbing it as if it were a race!

(Of course we were – there were 18 year old boys in the lead!)

I was actually glad when another chaperone informed me we had a straggler who was having a little trouble getting up the mountain and they wanted a woman to stay back a bit. I sat and looked around, letting the kids pass me. There was a beautiful little waterfall to my right. Once everyone had gone on, I noticed the tinkling sound the water made. I even spotted tiny little white flowers at the base of a tree that I would never have seen while planting one foot in front of the other. (Remember the lesson in my Friday post?)

Soon our winded young lady came up the path with one of the male chaperones, who left her with me and went on ahead. Before long, another of our men teachers showed up with an encouraging smile. He had a walkie-talkie and the goal was to keep one at the beginning and one at the end of the group.

The three of us sat and rested for a moment, then got up to go on. We stopped periodically and that’s when I really enjoyed the mountain. I told our student: “I figure you hike up the mountain either for the climb or for the mountain. I like to climb it for the mountain.” Taking time to drink in the beauty of God’s creation was great. It wasn’t about the climbing for me – or about how fast you could get it done!

Our student lightened up considerably (and breathed easily) as we talked, rested, and hiked at a leisurely pace. Before we’d cross rocks in a stream, the male teacher would stand and pick out his path. Then he’d go first and we’d watch him; then we would follow, with me bringing up the rear.

Hence today’s lesson from the trip:

Learn from the stumbles and the victories.

Once he gave the rocks a try, we decided which was the right path. Should be imitate his route or seek another? We learned from watching him wobble or emerge strong and steady.

We learned from someone else’s experience, vowing not to make the same missteps. If he emerged dry and confident, we felt sure of ourselves as we followed his path.

The lesson played out a bit differently on the way down. Our straggler hung back with us again as we went down the mountain, but her confidence had grown immensely. Now a second straggler appeared, one who fought her way up but found the descent frightening. Our first straggler now became a leader, an encourager. She even led the way back down, calling encouraging words over her shoulder to the one who struggled. She had learned from her own victories and stumbles, and now stood ready to help another.

So true in all of life. Instead of letting our stumbles get us down, we need to make them useful! How can a hard time you’ve had help someone else?

Is there a mom struggling with something you know well? Wait for her. Share some encouraging words. Give support.

We need each other along the mom path up the mountain. Once you’ve reached a leveling off place and caught your breath, murmur a word of thanks for those stumbles. They’re lessons in disguise and, ultimately, they’ll make your and others’ paths easier.

Learn from the stumbles and the victories. (Thanks, kids -- you're always teaching me!)

How have you learned? Was there one ahead on the path, calling encouragement to you?