To Write a Better Story

Commencement Address of a Different Sort

2012-05-20T09:00:00.000-05:00

A good friend sent me this commencment speech in an email this week. It was spot on and I thought I'd share it with my faithful readers today! Enjoy!

image @photobucket user BJM2012

Class of 2012,
I became sick of commencement speeches at about your age. My first job out of college was writing speeches for the governor of Maine. Every spring, I would offer extraordinary tidbits of wisdom to 22-year-olds—which was quite a feat given that I was 23 at the time. In the decades since, I've spent most of my career teaching economics and public policy. In particular, I've studied happiness and well-being, about which we now know a great deal. And I've found that the saccharine and over-optimistic words of the typical commencement address hold few of the lessons young people really need to hear about what lies ahead. Here, then, is what I wish someone had told the Class of 1988:

1. Your time in fraternity basements was well spent.
The same goes for the time you spent playing intramural sports, working on the school newspaper or just hanging with friends. Research tells us that one of the most important causal factors associated with happiness and well-being is your meaningful connections with other human beings. Look around today. Certainly one benchmark of your postgraduation success should be how many of these people are still your close friends in 10 or 20 years.

2. Some of your worst days lie ahead. Graduation is a happy day. But my job is to tell you that if you are going to do anything worthwhile, you will face periods of grinding self-doubt and failure. Be prepared to work through them. I'll spare you my personal details, other than to say that one year after college graduation I had no job, less than $500 in assets, and I was living with an elderly retired couple. The only difference between when I graduated and today is that now no one can afford to retire.
3. Don't make the world worse. I know that I'm supposed to tell you to aspire to great things. But I'm going to lower the bar here: Just don't use your prodigious talents to mess things up. Too many smart people are doing that already. And if you really want to cause social mayhem, it helps to have an Ivy League degree. You are smart and motivated and creative. Everyone will tell you that you can change the world. They are right, but remember that "changing the world" also can include things like skirting financial regulations and selling unhealthy foods to increasingly obese children. I am not asking you to cure cancer. I am just asking you not to spread it.

4. Marry someone smarter than you are. When I was getting a Ph.D., my wife Leah had a steady income. When she wanted to start a software company, I had a job with health benefits. (To clarify, having a "spouse with benefits" is different from having a "friend with benefits.") You will do better in life if you have a second economic oar in the water. I also want to alert you to the fact that commencement is like shooting smart fish in a barrel. The Phi Beta Kappa members will have pink-and-blue ribbons on their gowns. The summa cum laude graduates have their names printed in the program. Seize the opportunity!

5. Help stop the Little League arms race. Kids' sports are becoming ridiculously structured and competitive. What happened to playing baseball because it's fun? We are systematically creating races out of things that ought to be a journey. We know that success isn't about simply running faster than everyone else in some predetermined direction. Yet the message we are sending from birth is that if you don't make the traveling soccer team or get into the "right" school, then you will somehow finish life with fewer points than everyone else. That's not right. You'll never read the following obituary: "Bob Smith died yesterday at the age of 74. He finished life in 186th place."

6. Read obituaries. They are just like biographies, only shorter. They remind us that interesting, successful people rarely lead orderly, linear lives.

7. Your parents don't want what is best for you. They want what is good for you, which isn't always the same thing. There is a natural instinct to protect our children from risk and discomfort, and therefore to urge safe choices. Theodore Roosevelt—soldier, explorer, president—once remarked, "It is hard to fail, but it is worse never to have tried to succeed." Great quote, but I am willing to bet that Teddy's mother wanted him to be a doctor or a lawyer.

8. Don't model your life after a circus animal. Performing animals do tricks because their trainers throw them peanuts or small fish for doing so. You should aspire to do better. You will be a friend, a parent, a coach, an employee—and so on. But only in your job will you be explicitly evaluated and rewarded for your performance. Don't let your life decisions be distorted by the fact that your boss is the only one tossing you peanuts. If you leave a work task undone in order to meet a friend for dinner, then you are "shirking" your work. But it's also true that if you cancel dinner to finish your work, then you are shirking your friendship. That's just not how we usually think of it.

9. It's all borrowed time. You shouldn't take anything for granted, not even tomorrow. I offer you the "hit by a bus" rule. Would I regret spending my life this way if I were to get hit by a bus next week or next year? And the important corollary: Does this path lead to a life I will be happy with and proud of in 10 or 20 years if I don't get hit by a bus.

10. Don't try to be great. Being great involves luck and other circumstances beyond your control. The less you think about being great, the more likely it is to happen. And if it doesn't, there is absolutely nothing wrong with being solid.
Good luck and congratulations.

Full Article HERE
— Adapted from "10½ Things No Commencement Speaker Has Ever Said," by Charles Wheelan. To be published May 7 by W.W. Norton & Co.

A version of this article appeared April 28, 2012, on page C3 in some U.S. editions of The Wall Street Journal, with the headline: 10 Things Your Commencement Speaker Won't Tell You.

My Parent Education Mission

2012-05-17T09:00:00.000-05:00

This small board is a BIG representation of a passion of mine.
See the full size version HERE.
Did you click PLAY above? View an awesome video detailing some of the challenges in Slovakia

In November, I am traveling to Europe to conduct parenting classes in a small Roma Gypsy community located Cachtice, Slovakia.

View Larger Map

This people group is greatly discriminated against and their children are not given the same educational opportunities as 'white' children and that's ... well, that's not ok.

I took this in 2007

Perhaps due to their abject poverty, it has been identified by groups such as the UN and Amnesty International that Roma families need resources & training in order to establish a home enviornment that enhances, not deteriorates, early brain development in their children.

Children without blocks to build with, books to read and scissors to cut (or parents who understand the necessity of such activities) enter school behind and are therefore labeled "special" and receive a less than acceptable education which only exasperates the cycle of poverty.

We can make a difference in this community! I am a part of a team from the U.K. based organization Next level International. Together we can teach Roma families, mentor locals to continue the work and see an entire community transformed.

Isn't that exciting?

We will train & mentor locals who can then, in turn, reproduce the training model that will be used in other towns and villages in both Czech and Slovakia. Communities can be transformed!

My favorite aspect of the trip will be the Parenting Toolbox Kits we will leave with every Roma family. The kit will include "tools" that each parent needs in order to nurture the growth and development of their children. Blocks, books, balls, crayons, paper ....
We will teach them the importance of reading, playing, interacting with their children.
We will make homemade games
and sing and play together.

me in Bratislava

These are the things me, and the parents around me take advantage of. When you live in abject poverty, when you are illiterate these things don't come naturally. Help me help world to be a better place.
I'm starting in Slovakia.

Won't you help?

My fund raising is two fold:

Sponsor a Roma Family with a Parenting Toolbox Kits (approx $25 USD each) and/or
Sponsor a leg of my trip (14 days @ $100 USD a day = $1400)

Click the blue DONATE button in the right margin of my blog to give today! It's greatly appreciated!

p.s. did you click the pin board above? it has a great video about the plight of the Roma's! You hafta see it for yourself!

Simply Living

2012-05-15T09:00:00.000-05:00

image businessinsider.com

My children were having a debate the other day about whether it is better to be a kid or an adult. The vote was evenly split as my younger ones argued that it was preferential to be a grownup since no one would "tell you what you had to do" and "you could have all the money you wanted" (Really? Where do they get these notions?).

However my older kids, who have had a teeny tiny taste of responsibility, think it is best to remain a child as long as possible. They argued, "You don't want to grow up and be like mom! She has to work to buy the food, cook the food and clean up the food all the time!" But the little ones were not swayed replying, "Yeah, but she likes to do all that!"

Isn't this one of the great ironies of life; always wanting the next phase of life? First, you are a kid who can't wait to grow up. Remember feeling desperate to get your driver's license? Then once you've had that taste of freedom you can't wait to move out on your own. It's not long though before you wish you had someone to share your life with. Then you long to settle down. After settling you dream of starting a family. One minute you can't wait to have kids the next you long for them to move out. Sadly then, one day you realize you are old and you wish you were young again.

Is this just the rhythm of life or an unnecessary string of dissatisfaction? I think if we are not careful we could end up spending our entire lives longing for the next season. Isn't that sad? When will we learn to enjoy the moment we are in?

Yet even I readily remember feeling the same way as my kids do; believing it is best to be older. My parents then, gave me the same advice I give my children now. Which makes me wonder; is it always in our nature to want what we don't have?

I think this is a terrible trap for the mind; to be in a constant state of want. I want a new phone. I want a better paying job. I want more/less kids. I want. I want. I want. (Incidentally my kids recently had a terrible case of the gimmees until we cut out cable television. They are no longer overexposed to advertisements and therefore haven't asked me to buy them anything in weeks! It's a sweet relief!)

There is one problem with always wanting more. When we want more we must work more which means we end up having less time to enjoy the things and people we love. I fear we've forgotten a basic truth; we don't need a lot to be happy. Commercials and advertisers work very hard at sending you the message that you need their phone/soap/makeup/brand to be happy but they are lying to us. If it were true, we'd be happy by now. We've bought the stuff they said would make our lives happier and better and yet we remain dissatisfied. We still want for more.

This is hard for my children to understand. In their lack of life experience they truly believe we would be better off with every product sold on T.V. What I really, really want them to learn though, is that a person can absolutely have a lot of money and possessions but if they always want more they could in fact, be poorer than the person who has little and wants nothing.

I hope that I can teach my kids to be grateful for even the smallest pleasures in life. Wouldn't it be wonderful if they knew firsthand the joy of a nap in a hammock, fishing on a quiet lake, riding so fast down a hill your stomach drops, seeing a falling star, forgetting to check the time and getting lost in a good book? These are the pleasures of living well without costing much.

These are my hopes and dreams for my children but I fear our technologically advanced ways and cultural demands may be too overbearing and contradicting to my ideals. Recently, USA Today reported that one in 20 college graduates won't take a job if the employer won't let them shop online. If that is true I mourn for the next generation.

A happy life is not comprised of a collection of things. A happy life is experienced when you can fall asleep at night feeling safe, loved and satisfied with what you have, not with what you still want. Why? Because I'm the mom and I said so! That's why!

(This article appears in the Tuesday 5/15/12 edition of the Daily Review Atlas as a part of my weekly Practical Parenting series)

Anne Lamott Tweeted Me!

2012-05-09T09:00:00.000-05:00

I started this blog because (at the sake of sounding dramatic) I want 'To Write a Better Story' like I want to breathe.

I want my life to be a fantastically entertaining story when my grand kids sit down and tell their kids about "Stephanie the Great" (thank you Bill Cosby, creator of Little Bill).

I want my kids to tell tales of bravery and tenacity. I want them to marvel at how happy I was despite my darkest moments. I want them to have a smirk of admiration when they remember what a tough broad I was.

And ('cause that's not enough)

I want to write. Write a story. Stories.
I want to write.
I want to be a writer.

So I've been working on that for 2 years.
Two. Years.

I blog (because apparently that's what aspiring writers do) and
I author a weekly series in my local paper.

I AM writing.
I guess you could say I am a WRITER. (Thank you Jeff Goins. Seriously, thank you!)

Here's the thing .... sure I blog and I got my parenting advice column going on but ... I want to tell my story. I think about it all the time. I think about how I would tell it. I imagine releasing it and sharing it with the world.

And then fear grips my heart.

I believe if I write my story, my truth, it could be painful for loved ones to read.

So I don't do it.
I don't tell the story.
I don't write it out.
I won't speak of it.
Which means my kids may grow up never knowing their history. They'll never hear about the great betrayal or bear witness to my solitary transformative moment.

Transformative.

Earlier today......

I checked in on Twitter today for a brief moment between tasks at school. I saw Anne Lamott was doing a Twitter Chat sponsored by Penguin Publishers. By the way you should know ... I love Anne Lamott. I loved Bird by Bird (it was one of the first books I read as I embarked on my soyouwannabeawriter journey). I asked her in 140 characters if writing a story was worth it if it could potentially hurt those I love.

Essentially I wanted to know the answer to the question that burns at my soul.... is my story worth it?

Is my story worth it?

All I know is that is exactly what I wanted/needed to hear.
Anne Lamott, thank you.
Thank you.

In honor of Mother's Day you should read her essay from Some Assembly Required. It's worth it - go ahead... click over!

Q. What did you do writer friend? Did you write about "it" and did your family support you? Turn away from you? How did you deal with the fallout?

In a world where there are a million blogs and not enough time to read them I thank you for visiting mine!

Sticks and Stones ~ Practical Parenting Series

2012-05-08T13:09:00.001-05:00

What do you do when you see a child being mistreated in public? Do you do as I do and wonder where the line is between minding your own business and stepping in?

I was out for a lazy, evening stroll recently when I witnessed a woman yanking on and screaming at a little boy who appeared to be no more than four or five years old. My heart beat wildly in my chest as I could see the anger on her face and the fear in his eyes.
Should I intervene?
Mind my own business?Well, right or wrong, I did nothing. Instead, I walked on and watched in horror as the little boy was viciously, verbally reprimanded. He was weeping and trying desperately to escape the woman's harsh grasp. It seemed to me he wasn't trying to avoid discipline, he was very frightened.

Of course, I don't have any idea what invoked this woman to such cruelty but I can't help but wonder; does it matter? Does any one of us have any right, under any circumstances, to treat another human being, let alone a child, with such utter disrespect, hatefulness and vengeance?

I'd say absolutely not! At no time, in no place does any one, young or old deserve to be treated in such a way. Ever.

Now, a week later I sit at my keyboard replaying the scenario in my mind and the truth is it still haunts me a little. I may not have responded at the scene that night but I'm choosing to use my words today in hopes that it will make a difference for children like this little boy in the future.

When we think about the horrible abuses that take place in our world we can easily cite physical, emotional or sexual abuse as some of the worst case scenarios. And indeed it is so, but let us not dismiss the painful words that sting the heart and burrow deep into the minds of victims! Verbal abuse can absolutely be just as damaging to a person's well being.

Remember the old saying, "Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me!"? How very untrue it is! Words are very, very powerful. In fact, words might be one of the most powerful tools a parent can wield in a child's early most formative years.

Dr. Michael Popkin, child development expert, says that our job as parents is to teach our children how to survive and thrive in the society in which they will live. In order to do that they must have the courage to overcome life's obstacles. He says in order to raise children to have courage we must spend time encouraging, not discouraging them.

This is very good news for parents and essentially anyone who interacts with children. Encouragement is free and accessible to anyone who might choose to use it! All that is needed are your well chosen words. When you encourage a child you are literally building courage in them. Conversely then, discouraging a child tears away the courage you want to instill. Think of it like a bank account. In order to increase your savings you deposit, not withdraw money. The same is true with courage. Encouragement is the deposit, discouragement is like a withdrawal.

Some forms of discouraging words are obvious; cursing, yelling and demeaning our children. Other forms of discouragement are more obscure. For example, we are actually disassembling any courage in children when we do things for them that they could do for themselves. We say things like, "Honey, your too little to do that" or "Don't you dare (________) what are you trying to do make my life harder?"

We also discourage kids when we expect the worse from them. How many of us have found ourselves saying, "Don't get in trouble!" or "Don't make a mess!"? What seems like a relatively harmless phrase is really a projected expectation of failure. Why don't we change our speech to include words of faith like "I know you'll try your best" or "Let's clean this up together"?

Finally, and most commonly, we discourage our children when we only notice the negative. When you find yourself saying things like, "Now look what you did!" or "What were you thinking?" we miss an opportunity to build our children up. Instead let's think before we are so quick to speak and look for opportunities to catch our children being good. Let's say things like, "That was a good try", "May I help you?" or "You'll get it someday!".

Our children are smaller than us. Their feelings are smaller and much more fragile as well. Let's not abuse our adult power and influence and be people of discouragement. Let's be a people, a community, that encourages one another. Let's use our words, our power-packed words to build each other up. Why? Because I'm the mom and I said so! That's why!

Stephanie Sikorski has had plenty of practice being encouraging to each of her five children but is also employed as a certified Parent Educator for the Monmouth-Roseville School District. She can be reached for comment or consultation at ssikorski@mr238.org

Menu Monday

2012-05-07T18:05:00.000-05:00

It is Menu Monday here at To Write a Better Story.

And I've got no menu for you.
Turns out I can't even meet my own standard for cooking.

Sure we've got dinner in the crock pot right now but
2 kids are at a practice
Darling Hubby is out coaching
the teenager bops in and out so much I'm not sure whether she's coming or going
and I think the other 2 kids are around here somewhere....

o yeah, they're here, I remember! They just helped me carry in 6 bags of groceries so we'd have food for tomorrow.

Also, I just broke my cardinal rule of never going to the grocery store without a list.
I didn't have a list.
I don't have a menu.
Heck, I'm not even sure I had the money to buy the food we're about to consume.

Yeah, it's been like that lately.

Did I mention .... nah, forget it! Even to myself if I continue down that path it sounds a little whiny. And you now what? I'm alive!
I'm alive and well. Healthy enough to clean my kitchen (that my family left for me from 6:30 this morning, grrrrrr!!!). While the fries are cooking in the oven I've got 2 seconds to post Menu Monday and at least I had my wits about me to get something in the crock pot when I left the house this morning.

So Menu Monday? NO!
A recipe? Yes!
And a darn good one!
Mark this one down....it's my flippin lifesaver crock pot recipe:

Italian Chicken

In the crock pot add:
1 bag of frozen, boneless chicken breasts
1 can of Chicken Broth
1/4 cup of Pepperocini juice (optional - it just adds a hint of flavor-flav)
2 packets of dry Italian dressing

Cook on low until it easily shreds or falls apart. Serve on toasted buns with your favorite cheese (we love Provolone or Pepper Jack).

and by the way - leftovers are even better!
and BONUS!
keep any left over for ANY recipe you need that uses precooked chicken i.e. Enchiladas, Quesadillas, Burritos, Chicken & Rice casserole, Potato Chip Casserole, Chicken Noodle Soup, Cream of Chicken Soup, Chicken Nachos ........

Seriously ... it's that good!

Hope you are all well!
For what's left of this Monday - may you rock it!

For more awesome Menu ideas visit www.orgjunkie.com Her Menu Plan Monday is really great!

Finance Friday Returns

2012-05-04T09:00:00.000-05:00

It has been a few weeks since I've had a Finance Friday entry here at To Write A Better Story. I've got 10 very good reasons: Aaron, Halee, Ethan, Eric, Abby, Bell, school, ShopKo, responsibilities and um ... life.

Also we've hit a bit of a rhythm. It felt to me like we were sinking so hard and so fast that I could not get my feet (or my generally positive attitude) underneath me but now it seems we've hit bottom. Good right? Now there is nowhere left but up.

With things finally leveling out, a plan formed and a budget adjusted accordingly, I can breathe. And breathing feels good! Now that I'm breathing, maybe I can begin writing again.

Has the last year been hard?
Um, duh! ... Yes!
But I've no - do you hear me? - NO regrets.

In the next few Finance Fridays I'm going to:
*introduce you to my Good Cause and next overseas trip
*explain my idea of Tentmaking
*ask you to buy a purse/bag for the Czech Republic
*and share about one of my Tribe's biggest blessings yet (hint? I'm digging out my ears from 1992)

Thanks readers! Thanks for sticking with me. For being gentle when you read my most heartwrenching entries. Thank you for being kind with your emails, comments and words. But mostly, thank you for continuing to visit To Write a Better Story. I believe I'm a better character because of you!

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

I'm a Failure

2012-05-02T14:43:00.000-05:00

Failure seems to be a re-occurring theme for me this year, I've written about it twice in my Practical Parenting series for the paper (here & here), it's regularly in the forefront of my mind as I blog and whenever I see other bloggers/writers talking about it it always grabs my attention.

Like this recent post from Donald Miller.

You see, I want to live a great story.
I really do!
In fact, I'll let you in on a little secret: I very consistently think about what this means for me. When I imagine, I pretend as if I'm an observer of my own story watching/marveling as it unfolds.

Which makes me weird (I'm aware of that thankyouverymuch) and alone.
Sometimes I wish the ~~main characters~~ people in my life could understand this.

Back story...

My darling husband and I spent 12 years of our life dedicated to a little church we planted in 1997. We dedicated our lives, literally building it with our own hands. We interrupted our family's schedule. Missed holidays with loved ones and comforted the mourning in their deepest times of need. I shared my husband when I wanted him to myself, befriended people who only wanted my friendship because of my position in the church and put my kid's bedtime on hold for 'a Word'. I cooked for this flock. Planned events for them. Taught them. Mentored them. Involuntarily became their leader and biggest cheerleader and
when it was time for us to move on ...
when we left to try something new (because season's change)
and
that new thing didn't work out
a grey unspoken fog descended between us that thundered
"Failure!"

In the aftermath of our unsuccessful decision we struggled. We certainly did. And those who I walked life with, loved and poured myself out for were ... absent.
No support.
No shoulder to cry on.
No "Howya doin'? "
No help.
No understanding.
No words of encouragement.
No network.

Apparently, I (very humanly) deducted, we were only loved when we were there to serve them.

But there are no hard feelings on my behalf. It is what it is and I've learned SO much - so very much ...

and plus - we're surviving. Oh boy are we surviving and thriving!

But still, sometimes, those people who ~~know~~ knew me, who I served with my whole life in the Name of Jesus (yes, you're welcome Lord. Even though it totally sounds like it is all about me I'm sure that sometimes it was all about you ... surely) look right through me.

I'm either:
A. ignored
B. skirted around or
C. if they do speak, it hardly ever moves beyond, "Hi, how are you? I'm fine, you?" and then
EXIT Stage Left.

Sometimes I pinch my arm to see if I'm awake. Perhaps I'm sleeping and in my dream I'm invisible.

No (pinching) I'm awake.

And I think, they think, I'm a failure.

I'm not.
Oh, no I'm not failure.
I'm...

I'm...
I'm educated.

Just look at what I've learned:

I now know I misunderstood what a blessing actually is.
I now know what it means to be broken.
I now understand the difference between genuine/disingenuous relationships.
I have learned a new definition of ministry.
I've been schooled in the idea of rest and know all about seasons.
And I've learned what lessons I never wish to repeat again.

I've not failed.
You see me struggling. You don't understand. You worry I might be lost and suffering the consequences of my 'decisions'. You worry about what I'm doing on Sunday mornings now but it's OK.

These are, after all, my lessons.
This is my education.

But ... if you would just say "Hi! So ... how have you been?" I could tell you about my journey.

Grief and Young Children

2012-05-01T11:53:00.000-05:00

(This article appears as a part of my weekly Practical Parenting series for

The Daily Review Atlas)

As parents we teach our children a lot of things; how to talk, share, use the potty and deal with grief. In every decision we make, every word we speak and every reaction we have, we are directly, and simultaneously inadvertently, teaching our children how to deal with and react to life. This is why we must be very careful during times of tragedy and death.

When in mourning it can be very difficult to think outside of your own personal feelings of loss and sadness. However, as parents we must take into consideration how large of an impression our reactions will leave on our children and how much influence our words carry. No matter how difficult, the absolute best thing grownups can do is be age appropriately honest with kids. Even, and most especially, when it is the hardest to do so.

Do you remember how highly you thought of your parents when you were young? In a child's eye, moms and dads are supernaturally strong. This is why it can be a very confusing time for children when they see their parent crying. You may be tempted but don't hide your tears. Instead, reassure your child that you are fine but explain that thinking of your loved one makes you feel sad. It's not harmful for children to see their parents cry rather it can be dangerous to create a false reality. Children, even infants, can pick up when something is not right and a parent may inadvertently communicate to the child that there is something shameful about displaying one's feelings.

In times of loss, it is very common for children to begin to wonder if other people in their life will die too. This may be particularly true if the death was sudden and not anticipated. You should expect your children to ask you if you, or they, will die. Explain to your child, on their level of understanding, that even though accidents happen you are planning on being around for a very long time. Reassure the unsure child that no matter what happens, all of their needs will be met. Comfort them and tell them someone will always be there to give them all the love and care they will need.

When it comes to the details of death, kids should be on a need-to-know basis. Parents should understand that children don't need to know all the same grown-up, medical details you need. It's often our instinct to have a formal sit down to deliver bad news but consider the alternative. Consider talking about the subject during your daily routines and dinner conversations. For young children, a stiff and formal sit-down can be uncomfortable and scary. Instead state the facts as simply and age appropriately as possible and follow your child's lead. If, after sharing the news, they need more details than give it. If they don't desire more information don't worry that they've not grasped the heftiness of the news. In time they will. And you can be sure to offer comfort when that day does come.

Of course everyone deals with the idea of death and after-life according to their own convictions and religious beliefs however, be very wise in what words you choose during your explanations. For example, if you tell your child "Grandpa fell asleep and now we'll never see him again" there is a very good chance you're inviting sleep problems in your youngster. Their immature brain will rationalize, "If Grandpa never came back after falling asleep, maybe I will too".

Likewise, telling a child that God takes "good people" can make them wonder if He will take them when they are "good". We don't want our children to worry about being taken to heaven for good behavior. Remember to explain the loss in the simplest and most truthful way possible. And if you don't know what to say, that's ok too. Just be honest.

Attending funerals can be very taxing on young children. The raw emotion they witness can be very disturbing. Tell them prior to the service what they might expect. Remind them that it's ok to be sad and it's ok to cry because when we miss someone we loved we feel sad. Have conversations informing your son or daughter about what they can expect. Explain that people may be crying, laughing, or talking. Share specifics like what the room will be like, where the coffin will be and what they may or may not want to do. But I encourage you to be very sensitive to your child's cues. If they don't feel sad don't make them feel like they should be and likewise, if you recognize they are overwhelmed with the emotion of the event be sure to offer lots of comfort.

Finally, a family should spend time remembering the relationship with the lost one. This often brings the closure that young children need. No matter how painful for the adult, it is so important to talk about the good times, go through pictures and discuss memories as the children's interest indicates.

Most importantly, receive each new day as a gift. In this age of terrorism and tragedy, no one is guaranteed a tomorrow. I implore you not to waste one more moment in fear or discord. In as much as it is possible, live in peace with one another. Take time everyday to play with and love on your children. Why? Because I'm the mom and I said so! That's why!

Stephanie is a certified Parent Educator for the Monmouth-Roseville CUSD #238 and a mother to five children. She blogs at www.stephaniesikorski.blogspot.com and can be reached for comment or consultation at ssikorski@mr238.org.

Just BE-ing

2012-04-30T21:12:00.001-05:00

I'm sitting here this evening with an XL To-do list on my mind. Its sabotaging every ounce of mental energy I have. The dog is curled up at my feet and my coconut green tea is growing cold. 2 out of 5 kids are tucked in bed for the night and I'm at a threshhold- do I get up and work for two hours? Read until bed? Write? Twitter? Go through my Reader? Catch up on blogs?

No, the truth is I don't want to DO anything.
I think I need to just BE.

BE tired from a long day at the store.
BE aware.
BE comfy.
BE free from the To-do list and all my concerns as to whether or not I'll get it done - in time, er, ever!
I need to
BE present in this moment.

I'm getting weary of always moving to the next thing.

I'm not thinking about stopping.

I just need to breathe.

I hope the blogs and stories that float in and out of my brain will be there when my fingers are able to reach out and taptaptap away at the keyboard.

I hope.
I do.
But mostly I need to BE.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

RIP Mrs. Becraft

2012-04-28T18:05:00.001-05:00

jamespattonfuneral.com

Apparently she was an incredible woman.
I didn't know her but when I listen to those who did it makes me feel as if I was missing out on an important relationship.
What started out as a regular school day ended in tragedy.

A year ago I was sitting in Portland (of all places!!) at Donald Miller's Storyline Conference. He and his book "A Million Miles in a Thousand Years" convinced me that I needed to do something about my life.
I came to believe that if my life were to become a novel on your bookshelf, you'd be incredibly unlikely to ever read my story. I was a wimpy character. I lacked luster and vitality. My obstacles were overtaking me and never did it cross my mind to face them with bravery. My story was, in no uncertain terms, a rambling string of fortunate and unfortunate events (which, I learned, is the exact opposite of what makes a good storyline). Instead of taking risks I choose safety and instead of dealing with conflict I ran from people. No wonder I was dissatisfied with life.
Then, one day I woke up and decided something had to change.
At the conference I heard Michael Hyatt, former Chairman of Thomas Nelson Publishers and popular blogger, talk about the importance of having a Life Plan. I was instantly intrigued.
The first lesson of the plan? (it's a free e book - you can have one too just go to the link)
Imagine how you expect your funeral to be.
Gruesome? or Brilliant?
My soul jumped at the idea. Immediately I imagined what words I would long to hear. I wanted it to be said I was

brave

a good writer

always making others feel better, never worse about themselves

a good mother who loved her children well

in head-over-heels love with my husband and our journey

Then it dawned on me; if I wanted those things to be said about me in the future, I had better start behaving that way today.
That's how my life changed.
That's why I'm blogging here at To Write a Better Story.
Mrs. Becraft passed suddenly this week. Her friends, peers, students and family will gather for her visitation tomorrow and funeral on Monday. Lots of stories will be told about her. About her life.
When my school received word of her passing I was there to catch a grieving teacher in an embrace. "There, there" I soothed and added a generic "I guess it's a good reminder to live each day as it's our last."
"Oh she did!" my friend perked up. "Oh she really did! She was always laughing and making the break room more fun at lunch. Her voice could be heard down the hallway. She was so cheerful everyday!"

Never had I heard such a strong conviction someone's voice.
I didn't know her but instantly I wished I had.
Just a few weeks ago a Mrs. Becraft came through my checkout line at the store. As I rung up her items I asked if she was a teacher. "No," she said warily, "why?"
"Well," I answered "my twins are hoping to get a Mrs. Beacraft as a teacher next year. They say she's really kind and if you were her I would have liked to introduce myself."

The woman replied, "No, that's my daughter-in-law" with just the slightest grin!
"Well, she must be a great teacher." I complimented.
I didn't even know her but - in a way - I did.
I won't be attending services for Mrs. Becraft. I've heard there is a concern about space and the number of attendees.
Mmmmm.
That's the kind of funeral I hope to have.
I hope when I'm gone the place is packed - not because I was popular - but because my
friends
children
peers
and family members thought I was
kind and
fun.
I even hope those who don't know me hear of my generous heart, warm spirit and loud laugh.
Rest in Peace Mrs. Becraft.
You will be missed.

A Dead Red Bird

2012-04-25T10:50:00.001-05:00

It's easy to get distracted - what, with life and all.

I've spent a lot of my days being a day-by-day person. Not because that's my personality, nay, I rather enjoy being on top of my own little world, but the current season of life demands so much time and energy I've morphed into an hour-by-hour person. I can't possibly think about what I have to do tomorrow because chances are I'm still quite unprepared for all the activity of today.

I recently witnessed a highly distracted Cardinal and I dare say his frenzy killed him.

Literally.

I think there might be a lesson here ...

Yesterday, while on my way to yet another soccer practice, I watched a Cardinal dart down into the path of my oncoming van. There, about 10 feet in front of my windshield he hoovered. I was astonished at his beauty as he flapped his wings and remained relatively suspended right in the line of my eyesight.

As my vehicle approached the bird I could see why he was so freakin' intent being there in the middle of the road; just beyond his beak was a floating butterfly.
The two creatures danced up and down but never out of my path. My van continued to approach and I began to brace myself for impact.

If that bird didn't get it's dinner soon it was gonna be a hood .... splat! .... ornament.

Poor bird. I looked in my rearview mirror and saw a beautiful pile of twitching red feathers on the pavement.

For food. That bird died trying to eat it's next meal.

Now I've not had any near death experiences at the grocery store (the modern mommy's version of hunting and gathering) but I couldn't help but think about how easily I get distracted "surviving".
And if I don't get a grip on my life I fear I may be putting myself in danger.

I'm sure I won't wander into oncoming traffic
but what of
the relationships I've put on hold,
or my children who don't ever get the best of me
because I stare at my computer more than I do their lovely faces?

What of my health if I continue to eat & sleep poorly?

What if I move so quickly and distracted through life I loose sight of the good and beautiful things that surround me?

I can only hope, as my heart sank for the bird I killed, that I would learn a valuable lesson:

May I never become so intent on chasing the elusive, ever-nagging demands of life that
I risk loosing what I care most about: my life.

If you liked my blog would you

Out of the Mouth of Babes

2012-04-24T09:18:00.000-05:00

http://www.jengagliardi.com

I’ll never forget the first time it happened to me. I had scathed by for years as a parent before I learned, first hand, the meaning of the phrase “out of the mouths of babes”. My second child was three and a half years old at the time and was feeling very inquisitive one weekend while we were traveling. What I had hoped to be a quick stop at the public rest area was really an opportunity for the little guy to verbalize every question he could think of about the differing physical characteristics of boys and girls. (I knew I should have insisted his father take him in the Men’s restroom. )

As his questions echoed off the walls and out into the lobby for every weary traveler to hear, I reminded myself to look on the bright side; his curiosity could be a sign of high intelligence.

I know I’m not alone in this boat. All parents of toddlers and preschoolers should brace themselves for those awkward moments. It can be very frustrating when young children are learning how and when to verbalize their thoughts when they have no way of understanding the concept of inappropriate.

The best and first advice I can offer to parents is to stay calm. Remind yourself that more than likely your child isn’t meaning to cause anyone harm. It is nearly impossible for young children to measure other’s responses to their own behavior. Developmentally speaking, children are unable to connect their actions to the environment. This is why kids pick their nose. They simply don’t realize, until they’ve been taught, that it’s a socially unacceptable way to use their finger.

Also, parents remember not to take your child’s actions to heart. These embarrassing moments are in no way a reflection of your parenting skills. No matter how many disapproving bystanders you have gawking at you, remember your responsibility is to your child, not to outsider. Teaching your child what is proper, versus disciplining them for their curiosity, is a huge task. How a parent responds to their child can quickly extinguish or subtly encourage a situation.

That’s why moms and dads should set a good example. Volume has a lot of power. Next time your child is talking too loudly avoid raising your own voice. Instead try responding with a whisper. Trust me, it has magical powers. Give it a try in your next conversation! Watch and see if whispering doesn’t cause the other person to lean in and pay close attention. They will quiet themselves down simply because they don’t want to miss a word you say!

If you must correct your child’s social behavior most experts agree; the less words you use the better. Avoid lectures. The longer your explanation the more likely your child will tune you out. Despite how embarrassed you may be it’s important that you don’t over react. Remain very matter of face and try and answer your children’s questions in the simplest of ways. For example when you hear, “Why is that man so fat?” it’s okay to say, “I don’t know” or “That’s just the way his body looks.” Don’t demand that your child apologize otherwise you communicate that their questions are not important.

Remember your child isn’t trying to be hurtful; they are looking for reassurance and are not aware that their voice can be heard by those around them. If you are sure the man overheard and is insulted, you might want to apologize briefly yourself.

Finally, every good parent knows the best defense when dealing with the unpredictable toddler is distraction, distraction, distraction! This is precisely why we carry extra-large purses and diaper bags. We need space for our amazing assortment of wildly entertaining thing-a-ma-jigs. (And you men thought we needed those big bags for our stuff!) No! It’s all about keeping the children occupied. We’ve been known to carry cereal, crayons and notepaper, gum, a ball, a comb, paperclips, tape, stickers, a portable video game for goodness sakes, anything that will help distract your child in an emergency.

I don’t wish those embarrassing public moments on anyone but chances are if you are a parent of small children, or in a checkout line behind a family with little ones, you will be likely to overhear some wee little voice asking the unmentionable. Look on the bright side, the curiosity and impulsiveness your child displays is a great indicator that he or she is getting a feel for the world around them and simply finding out where they fit in. Also, I never entered another public bathroom again without giving my kid a sucker first. It’s amazing how an occupied mouth can squelch a conversation! Why? Because I’m the mom and I said so! That’s why!

This article appears as a part of my weekly Practical Parenting series at The Review Atlas. Stephanie is a mother to 5 children, has had lots of practice whispering and is a Parent Educator for the Monmouth-Roseville School District. She blogs at To Write a Better Story and can be reached at ssikorski@mr238.org

What's the craziest thing your kid has said?

The 7th Year - Week 6

2012-04-22T12:46:00.000-05:00

Tom Hanks in Castaway

From the very beginning in Week 6 of The 7th Year Study by Alicia Britt Chole the following words jump off the page:

not listening -> idolatry -> exile

Not listening?
To whom?
God?

Who? Me?

When? When can I be sure He's ever spoken to me?

How? Did I ignore Him? What if I did because I didn't recognize He was trying to get my attention? Will He have grace for my ignorance?

Should He have grace for me?

So. Many. Questions.

I believe there are stories in the bible that can have purposeful application. Chole does too as she points to Jeremiah 25 and the doom of God's people for not obeying His commands.

But unlike me, they are clear on what God expects of them.

God's people, the account reads, were living in the Promised Land and still managed to screw it up even after being forewarned and forewarned and again ... forewarned.

It's hard for me to understand this, if I'm being honest. They lived precisely where God dwelled, they had a straight shot to heaven, life was flourishing and yet
they
practiced selective hearing.

It baffles me and comforts me.
Because if they had that life ... and I have this (unPromised Land) life .... then surely it can be completely understandable for me to screw up as well.

Yet, as in all forms of disobedience, comes consequences.
If my kids disobey there is punishment. If I do wrong at the job, there are consequences ...
so, as it is with God.

But surely, I think, He knows how we humans are.
He's dealt with our imperfect kind for thousands of years, no?

Can we ever get it right?

In Jeremiah the story says God sent 70 years of turmoil for His people's refusal to listen.

Chole writes: "Exile enhances the senses. Pain increases our overall sensitivity and grants us the opportunity to hear smaller sounds like our own heartbeat and the soft splashes of God's tears."

Isn't that beautiful?

And true?

When I reflect on the layers of the timeline I've created through each week of this study, her quote so beautifully reflects my experiences.

When I felt alone - I could feel His presence.
When I felt lost - I found His guidance.
When I was betrayed - He understood.
When I was without - He supplied my needs.

I don't want to ignore wisdom. I wish to hear the God of the Universe talk to me. But if He doesn't, or if I fail to hear it, or even worse ... quite frankly, disobey it ... I am thankful that while there will always be actions and reactions
cause and effect
that should I ever find myself in a season of exile, I shall be broken
and stripped of all the noise and distractions I entertain in my life,
to (hopefully) be able to rediscover the ability to listen.

The 7th Year - Week 5

2012-04-18T09:00:00.000-05:00

I've been doing a weekly devotional from Alicia Britt Chole. It's entitled The 7th Year.

I'm not usually one for this kind of study rather, I prefer a little ... um, less structure.

Don't get me wrong - I like structure. I'm a professional list maker after all (seriously I could be paid very handsomely for my To-Do list disciplines) but the reality of my current season in life does not allow for me to have such weekly discipline.

That being said, this 7th Year has been refreshing.
And thank goodness it is structured or (like my writing) I fear I'd never get it done without the deadlines.

In addition, I am going through the study with two of my very best girlfriends and the accountability is humbling and the opportunity to share is soothing to my soul.

In Week 5 of the study we added another layer to our timeline, this time reflecting on key moments we've chosen from our history. We were instructed to examine how we felt about God during those key moments. And while I'm sure everyone's timeline is vastly different they are probably also all the same; full of highs and lows, good days as well as tragedy.

It's the difficult times that challenges my reflection. I mean, Really? You want me to give words to how I may have felt about God when I was having a nervous breakdown?

No! Wouldn't it be easier to talk about how I felt about God when I was a happy newlywed, or when my first daughter was born?

Let's not go there, to the time I woke in a hospital bed recovering from a tragic miscarriage.
Let's not dig up the names I called Him when I shook my fists at the heavens that time I felt so betrayed. We really don't want to reveal how dark my heart was when I was angry about my future.

What is this point author Alicia Britt Chole is trying to make? How am I going to go forward if she keeps making me look back? Where is this study taking me?

Of this I am certain ... all my collective memories and moments in time, if I could visually accumulate them in a big box would be my most cherished collection.
Cherished?
Yes, cherished.
For without those experiences I don't know if I'd be here today. I don't know if I'd live here. I don't know if my friends would be my friends. I don't know if my husband would be my partner. I don't know .... what I don't know.

I only know that today, as I sit here typing and admitting to my own, sometimes derogatory feelings towards God and my more often admiration of Him, I am happy.

I. Am. Happy.

And if I had to go through all of the good, the bad and the ugly to get to this happy place....
well, yes! I'd do it again.

God I really hope I don't have to but
I would.
I would do it all again to have this inner, indescribable, happy peace.
But all of this begs the question; is it ok to say out loud what you really feel about God if it's irreverant? Shouldn't I practice holiness, awe and wonder and only express glory for the Creator of the Universe? Perhaps I should chastise myself for even thinking that He is less than faithful, stubborn and unreliable (yes, these are real terms I probably used in my exercise from this week's study - not proud of it, ok?).

I'm no bible scholar by any means but it seems, in my simple mind, that if various characters of bible can whine about their life (see David, Joseph, Moses, Abraham, Hannah .... )
then I can too.

You think that's ok? Seriously, what do you think ......

In the Blink of an Eye

2012-04-17T09:30:00.000-05:00

I must have blinked. I'm sure that it was just yesterday that I was in here, rocking her to sleep amongst the Noah's Ark animals inhaling the sweet smell of baby powder and now I'm watching her in the mirror as I reach for the clasp on her necklace. She turns and asks me if she looks ok.

"Yes," I say, "You look beautiful."

We take pictures and laugh while the atmosphere is frenzy with activity and nerves.

Yesterday she held her daddy's hand across the street.
Today as she leaves for prom on the arm of a handsome suitor I say under my breath, "Bye, Baby.”

I'm surprised at the ache I feel. It took me by surprise. You see, I don't normally have the time to be verklempt. I've been too busy raising her for seventeen long, exhausting, sleep deprived years to be emotional. Yet, today, in the blink of an eye and twirl of the gown, it's become reality; my baby is all grown.

Now the voice of every single old woman who told me, "Treasure these times, honey. They'll be gone before you know it" is ringing in my ears. Perhaps wisdom does, in fact, come with age.

However, I'm not convinced that I am longing for those days of preschool, science fairs and band concerts. I certainly wouldn't voluntarily go back in time. I'm simply stunned, reeling from the newfound fact that those years are all gone now. I'm realizing I was so busy surviving parenting that I forgot to prepare for the end of it.

But who has time to prepare? Mothers are knee deep in laundry, homework, grocery shopping, well checks, Halloween costumes, temper tantrums, field trips and dance recitals. Some day's I feel embattled doing all I can to raise polite, intelligent, musical, courteous kids who know how to save money, load the dishwasher and fold their own laundry. All my energy, emotional and mental, is completely engaged in the day-to-day demands of parenting. I hardly know what we're eating for dinner tomorrow how can I know what to prepare for the day I realize my daughter is grown up?

So sure, the wise voices are true in that the days are gone in the blink of an eye, but I'm struggling to believe that there is anything I could have done about that. Who enjoys sleep deprivation, colic and wet beds in the middle of the night? Those who have graduated from the ranks of parenting warned me of this day precisely when my kid was wailing, embarrassing me in the middle of the grocery store or when I was stuck at home lonely for days on end. I couldn’t possibly, even with their warning, have appreciated those days while in the midst of them.

Those very stressful parenting memories were not buffered with the knowledge that they would soon pass. All I craved was peace, sleep and an uninterrupted shower. Nothing else at those moments would comfort me -especially the thought that my child would be grown up someday. I simply thought, “Thank God she’ll be gone someday!”

Don't get me wrong parenting can be glorious. What a wonderfully, awesome responsibility I have to raise my sons and daughters into strong, resilient adults who will (I hope) make the world a better place. I hope for that in my heart’s dreams but my head is crying out for a break. I need to survive today's demands.

This is why I believe parenting is one of the hardest jobs on the planet. I am fully aware of the incredible privilege of bringing a child into the world and am instantaneously fearful that I do not have what it takes to do it well.

Regardless one thing is true; you never have enough time to do all you need to do and simultaneously appreciate all you need to appreciate. It’s a shame that the future is lost in the midst of dirty diapers and the other thankless chores of parenting.

Yet as I gazed, amazed at my grown baby in her formal gown my brain is forced to confront the truth. Gretchen Rubin, author of The Happiness Project is emphatically correct when she writes “The days are long and the years are short” and there is nothing any of us can do about that. Why? Because I'm the mom and I said so! That's why!

Author Stephanie Sikorski is a mother to 5 children and is a Parent Educator for the Monmouth-Roseville School District. This is a part of a weekly Practical Parenting series she write for The Daily Review Atlas.

If you enjoyed my blog would you please
the love? Please and Thank You!

The Place of Excrement

2012-04-13T09:00:00.000-05:00

"But love has pitched her mansion in

The place of excrement;

For nothing can be sole or whole

That has not been rent."

William Butler Yeats

Excrement.
You know what that is right?
Poop.
aka Sh!t.

Has the sh!t ever hit the fan in your life?
It has in mine.
Despite my efforts to be sure that it didn't, it did.
And it stinks.
And it makes me sick.
Some days my stomach lurches until I taste the bile begging, churning, demanding to be released.

Slumdog Millionaire

This is Jamal from "Slumdog Millionaire". He is a young boy living in poorest of conditions in India. He desperately wants an autograph from his idol, a famous Indian actor visiting his neighborhood, however, Jaleel find himself locked, by his older brother, in an elevated outhouse. The only way out is ... down. "Down" meaning "into the fetid cesspit below." It's an option Salim (the older brother) clearly doesn't believe Jamal will accept. And who would? No matter how miserable your life might be, no matter what challenges you face, everything is worse when it's covered in shit. (from NailtheMoment.com)

God, isn't that true?

But Jamal does the unthinkable. There is one way out of the outhouse and he takes it. He removes a beloved photo of his hero, the actor, out from his pocket, holds it up as high as he can, plugs his nose and dives in, er, rather down.

Who would do this? Who would willingly baptize themselves in sh!t for freedom?

Most of us, thankfully, don't voluntarily find ourselves in a pile of dung.
And yet, somehow the pile of dung has found us.
No matter how you come across it, it still stinks.

But my friends, as I've walked through my share of sh!t let me share with you the truth of the poem written above. Love's mansion is more likely to be found in the place of excrement than it is the sterile places.

Madeleine L'Engle, an author I've inhaled this last month, writes of her husband's illness in Two Part Invention; "The place of excrement. That is where we are this summer. How do we walk through excrement and keep clean in the heart? How do we become whole by being rent? God comes where there is pain and brokenness, waiting to heal, even if the healing is not the physical one we hope for. My husband is desperately ill, so where is the Lord? What about that place of excrement? Isn't that where Love's mansion is pitched? Isn't that where God is?"

Ultimately,
Jamal got the autograph he longed for.

And look what he does!
He celebrates.

Covered in sh!t he celebrates!

That's the kind of character I long to be.
I don't want to hide in my bed
or bury my face.
Certainly moments of grief and tears of torture have fallen from my face
but ultimately I want
to wipe my tears with the back (of my sh!t covered hand if I must)
and
stand
and celebrate.

Celebrate that I've survived,

be happy I'm alive and

know that above every obstacle or pile of dung
I am able and capable
of being the kind of character who,
against the odds,
rises to the top.

That's what To Write a Better Story is all about.

Who is this chick?

A Super Sweet Problem

2012-04-10T08:56:00.002-05:00

There is way too much candy in our house! Seriously. Way too much! Even after all I’ve eaten.

I’m sure I will look fifteen again in no time. Just when are you too old for acne? Shouldn’t it be when you get wrinkles? It’s not fair that I should have laugh lines and pimples on the same face. It just doesn’t seem right.

Anyway, there is a battle underway in my own home. The persistent pleas of my children, as they beg for more candy, are beginning to wear me down. I’m sure there are other exasperated parents who also have overloaded baskets of candy coupled with whiney, begging children.

Parents of very young children are blessed to not have to face this dilemma. One swift, strategic move and your child will never even notice you’ve removed over half of the tooth decaying enemy. Your toddler can’t even count to ten, how will they know that you’ve swiped out all the marshmallow chickens and chocolate eggs?

No matter how much swiping I do however, the candy just seems to continually multiply and reappear out of thin air. No kidding, I keep snacking but the baskets still seem full. I am quite certain I didn’t buy all this candy, so where did it come from?

Pondering that question makes me realize this is really a moot point at this post-holiday juncture. I mean I was the one who took my kids to the egg hunt and what am I going to do threaten to cut off grandparents and loving Sunday school teachers?

We just need some strategies for dealing with this super sweet problem.

First thing we did at our house was downsize.

Now my children may look like their father, but some things, some of the important things, they did inherit from me. Like me, they are candy connoisseurs. Not just any chocolate will do. Not all jelly beans are alike. I know this and instinctively they do too.

Sitting on the middle of the family room floor, Easter grass strewn everywhere, we separated the candy into three separate piles; save, trade and throw away. I then helped each child wade through their treasures.

What proceeded was nothing short of the greatest stock exchange witnessed on Wall Street.

Watching my four and five year olds negotiate suckers for peanut butter eggs was incredible. Thinking her age gave her an edge; my eight year tried her best to swindle her brothers. Smart little whips they are, it didn’t take them long to figure out her two-for-one-deal wasn’t in their best interest.

Other than the obvious benefit of immediately sending much of the candy to the trash, what we had was our own little developmentally appropriate intellectual moment.

My kids counted, sorted, classified, compared and problem solved. The most exciting thing about this learning experience is that it didn’t require flash cards or educational apps. Using what we had on hand they were able to use their emerging intellectual skills. And everyone enjoyed it (even dad who got to sample a little candy now and then).

Now, Easter is behind us and my kids still have a load of candy. I am still holding my ground as best as I can, not giving into every whine and plea for another piece. In fact, at this rate my two-piece-a-day rule will take us clear into October. Come to think of it, I think we still have Halloween candy in the back of the pantry.

These baskets of candy might be presenting a huge challenge for us but I will not be swayed. While I can expect my kids to try and eat as much of it as they can, I will work furiously to make sure they (or I) don’t over indulge. In the meantime, I’ll try to remember to encourage the Easter Bunny to be not quite so generous next year. My waist (and nerves) would really appreciate that. Why? Because I’m the mom and I said so! That’s why!

This article appears in my weekly Practical Parenting article at The Review Atlas. Stephanie is a mother to five children and is a Certified Parent Educator for the Monmouth-Roseville School District. She blogs at stephaniesikorski.blogspot.com and can be reached at ssikorski@mr238.org

A Long Winter of Questions

2012-04-09T10:12:00.000-05:00

London's Subway 2009

I used to believe that goodness would come to me, reign in my life and overcome all darkness for me.

Please, don't be so quick to scoff!
You might have believed that too if you could say that almost everything in your life ended up working out. I am blessed, and honest, in saying that I've witnessed many miracles in my life time. I've watched family members and loved ones gain victory over serious illnesses, impending death and cancer.

My life's motto was "It's all Good!" I lived my life day in and day out not letting the bad get to me because I was compelled to believe that at some point in time that bad would be turn into good.

I even based that belief on biblical principal.
Romans 8:28 was my life verse "For we know that all things work out for good for those who love God and are called according to His purposes."

I didn't think I was good or that I even deserved good things to happen to me. Instead I believed that He is good and He would honor His promise and cause good things happen on my behalf.

And then it was 2009
and I was hard pressed to find something good.

And then it was 2010 and at first I grew bitter
then weary as another year came and went without any sort of resolution and only a long, seemingly lonely, path ahead of me.

And now in 2012 truth be told I'm still sorta waiting for the 'all good' part.

My belief that there is a God never faltered these last few years.
I still loved Him but I was frustrated and disillusioned at best.
Had He failed me
or, more likely, had I failed Him?

So began a deep personal journey for me. Had everything I believed been wrong or am I simply impatient? Did God need more time or had I been forgotten?
Did I walk out of His will? Is there a perfect will?

Suddenly everything was a question.
And my brain was physically and emotionally exhausted from the mental searching.

As I reflect however, there was one thing I was sure of. I was not, as I had believed, alone. Somehow, in the most mysterious of ways, I knew -I just knew- that where I was, in the winter of my soul, He was with me. In fact, oddly enough I often felt an indescribable center to myself. Which in all honesty made me question whether I was going mad.
How could I feel so simultaneously unanswered and centered?
How?

Recently, I've felt as if my soul is mirroring the calendar and I've been able to breathe again.
It's April.
It is spring.
My cherry tree is blooming and similarly my soul has awaken, dared to stretch itself and peak out from it's dark cave of hibernation. Is it spring in me? Has my winter passed and are buds forming on the limbs of my life? I can't help but wonder ... am I about to bear fruit? Was the cold harsh winter of my soul the precipice in which my life would produce something?
Anything?

Time will tell.
And while I hope for that, of nothing I am certain.
I still have questions.
Many questions.

What of them?
What of my belief?

As Madeleine L'Engle so beautifully writes in her memoir
A Two-Part Invention The Story of a Marriage

"I will have nothing to do with a God who cares only occasionally. I need a God who is with us always, everywhere, in the deepest depths as well as the highest heights. It is when things go wrong, when the good things do not happen, when our prayers seem to have been lost, that God is most present. We do not need sheltering wings when things go smoothly. We are closest to God in the darkness, stumbling along blindly."

Whether you find yourself today blinded by the darkness or dancing in the light, may you too know that somewhere up there or in you or in nature or in your baby's first breath, there is a God who in all His mysterious ways knows your name and knows the seasons.

If you enjoyed my blog would you
Tweet the love? Please and Thank You!

Failing in Soccer and Survivor

2012-04-05T09:00:00.000-05:00

Wait! Even if you're not a fan of Survivor don't click away!
There is a valuable lesson for everyone here ... not just Survivor or Mark Burnett fans!

In case you are unfamiliar with Survivor every episode concludes at Tribal Council (essentially a campfire where the team must choose by anonymous voting which team member they want to send home).

In the second episode of Survivor: One World airing on Wednesday nights on CBS, Kat, the cute little blond in the photo is under scrutiny from her tribe mates about her poor performance at the competition.

Here is a transcript of her interview with the show's host, Jeff Probst.

Kat: It's my fault

Jeff: You keep saying that. Do you believe that or are you just being a martyr?

Kat: I think I do, it sucks

Jeff: What's upsetting?

Kat: ummm... my communication skills, I guess ... and ... failing. I never fail.

awkward pause

Jeff: You've never failed at anything in life?

Kat: I usually don't try anything else unless I know I'm going to succeed. Let's put it that way.

Jeff: So you really can't say you've never failed because the truth is you've never put your self in a position to fail.

Kat: Yeah.

Have you ever put yourself in a position to fail?
Think about it.

Have you ever consciously made a decision to try something that you pretty much know you'll be terrible at?

Probably not.

I mean who likes that feeling? Who welcomes defeat and frustration?
That seems so .... masochistic.

We work so hard to be comfortable
and safe.

But we never do anything amazing. I fear we'll never invent anything or conquer our fears or meet new friends or discover a new food/place/love.

My life is in no way similar to Survivor except that we call our large family a Tribe. It is for my own mental stability that I allow each kid to choose to participate in one activity at a time. With 5 kids there is just no way I can get everybody to everything. But I will commit to try to get each one to something if they want.
When the local YMCA sent home their latest flyer it had soccer, softball and volleyball programs. I encouraged my 7 year old twins to choose one if they wanted. They did. They each choose something different (oi!) and off we went to Bell's first soccer practice.

This usually vivacious daughter of mine was quiet on the ride to the soccer field. As we pulled into the parking lot she blurted out,
"Mom! I have bad butterflies in my stomach!"

"Good" I said, "that means you have a chance to be brave!"

She blinked her big brown eyes at me in utter faith. I know she was trusting me to tell her the truth. I kissed her forehead and sent her off, pony tail swinging behind her as she jogged away from me.

What if she hated it? What if she was terrible at it? What if she got hurt? What if this experience was a .... failure?

Thankfully Bell is absolutely enjoying the experience. She recently said she wished she had soccer everyday after school. We even went to the store and choose a pink and white soccer ball for her to kick around the yard. Will she be the next Mia Hamm? I don't know. Actually I don't care.
Maybe she'll be awesome at soccer or
maybe someday she'll try out and get cut from the team.
Either way, I am so glad, thrilled even that she put herself - at 7 years of age - in a position to try.

We might fail.

We might fall.

But God help us if we never try.

When have you put yourself in a position to fail?
Like this idea of failing? Then be sure to check out

The Failure Club
Bryan Allian's blog with John Rogers on Doing What You Love
or my recent Practical Parenting article "Learning to Fail" for the Review Atlas

- John Rogers, Creator/Showrunner of TNT’s Leverage.

“This is how the 21st century works: find something you love and love it to death. Just be you, be the writer you are, and put your head down…because, if you could sell out and it would guarantee success, then f*@# yeah sell out. But it doesn’t. You’ll fail anyway, and then you’ll feel bad about yourself. So just do the thing you love.”

A Fistful of Weeds

2012-04-04T12:11:00.002-05:00

image from oliviastravels.com

First, let me say I am no eavesdropper. I have enough drama/trouble/activity in my own life with five children .I really don't care to know yours (drama not kids). That being said, I overheard a disturbing conversation while dropping my child off at school yesterday.
As the children filed into the elementary building, bright eyed & bushy tailed, a little boy walked in with a fistful of dandelions. Proudly he presented his bouquet to his teacher. She graciously accepted the gift, patted his head and walked her class down the hall.

A second teacher observed the gift and leaned into another woman, looked annoyed and said, "I never accept dandelions! I mean I know it sounds harsh but students have to learn that dandelions are really weeds. Right?"

I was appalled.

You see, here's the great thing about children: they are children, innocent and full of life. Children are so trusting and simple. They have the ability we've long lost as adults - to see the beauty in something so common.

Of course dandelions are weeds! Isn't that evidenced by the millions of dollars homeowners desperately spend trying to ride their yards of pesky clover, creeping charlie or deep-rooted
dandelions?

But aren't dandelions also flowers, fun to pick and entertaining to blow? I can't imagine any scenario in which a five-year-old needs to be taught dandelions are weeds. They'll figure it out soon enough. How dare we rob a child the fun of gathering up a bouquet, the experience of blowing on the fuzzy seeds or hurry them along during a walk when they wish to stop and admire the soft yellow petals.

blog.thomaslaupstad.com

By the way, who taught us to hate dandelions? Haven't you driven along the highway and seen a field full of yellow and thought to yourself "It sure is beautiful"? I think we despise the weed for the same reasons we hate any other weed; we've been taught to. We've been taught by marketing ads with their glossy photos of perfect families enjoying a perfect lawn on a perfect day. We've been sold that anything short of a turf lawn is a 'problem lawn'.

Perhaps it ridiculous that we'll ever accept dandelions as anything other than weeds but could you consider that a bouquet of dandelions is more about the act of giving than it is about the gift?

A child who picks flowers has no regard for plant biology. They've yet been taught that roses are superior to the likes of dandelions or any other weedy flower commonplace this time of year. If a child has taken the time to collect flowering weeds for a bouquet it's because they are learning the basic etiquette of gift giving. To refuse this offering from an innocent, botany-ignorant child is to teach them that you don't value an act of kindness, only expensive gifts. This, my friends, is a very dangerous lesson to teach.
Interestingly, dandelions can have real meaning and purpose. I recently learned herbalists consider
the common dandelion a valuable herb with many culinary and medicinal uses. Turns out they are a rich source of vitamins A, B complex, C and D, as well as minerals such as iron, potassium and zinc. Dandelion leaves are often used to add flavor to salads, sandwiches and teas. In fact, some coffee substitutes use dandelion roots and the flowers are used to make certain wines.

flikr.com

Just remember this, whether you love dandelions or work feverishly to remove them from your lawn, children see them differently. And different can be good. Please don't scold a child for blowing dandelion seeds. Please accept with gratitude any bouquet you receive. For in that offering children remind us that beauty can be found everywhere. Even in a fistful of weeds.

This article originally appeared as a part of my Practical Parenting series for The Daily Review Atlas last year. I've revised and reposted it for an awesome link up I've found with a group of bloggers & writers from www.yeahwrite.me - a writing competition of sorts! This is an awesome group and I encourage you to check out their link ups. You don't have to write something to vote either! Shoot, you can vote for me!

If you liked my blog would you

Why children should be seen AND heard - Practical Parenting

2012-04-03T09:00:00.000-05:00

image from etsy.com

Sometimes I wish my mouth had a backspace button. I’d certainly (and frequently) use it to undo all the things I wish I hadn’t said. In fact, I think it would be great if we all had this ability. But I especially wish whoever coined the phrase “Children should be seen and not heard” could delete these words from the universe. For I think this phrase has robbed humanity of the beauty and wonderment children bring to our world.

Now, I’ve not actually heard anyone say that exact phrase lately but it seems clear to me that our society accepts this idea as an unspoken rule of thumb. How do I know? Because airline companies are introducing child-free flights and coffee shops post signs that read “Unaccompanied children will be served espresso and a puppy”. This clever tongue-in-cheek phrase is witty but it clearly communicates one important thing; children are not welcomed here.

Why? Because they are loud or don’t follow the same social cues as you? Or perhaps it’s because they speak their mind loudly and are endlessly curious? Of course they are. They are children. Isn’t it beautiful?

I think that children have a lot more to contribute than we give them space and time for. Instead we get so hung up on our own rights that we often miss the simple childlike beauty right in front of our eyes. And besides, children have rights as well. They have a right to be heard. And, yes, you have a right to read the paper in peace. So what are we to do?

Imagine with me though, what would happen if we began to live as if children were valuable instead of a nuisance? What if mothers could incorporate their children into the shopping trip instead of dragging them along? What if we included children, in an age appropriate way of course, into our conversations instead of hushing them? What if children were engaged in the family’s life instead of being treated like an inconvenience?

Would children be better behaved if they felt heard and included? And if yes, wouldn’t parents find it easier to discipline?

I’m not sure but I do know that children know when they are liked. My children know when I am engaged and listening and when I am faking interest. If I’m involved in our conversation they share things, important things, with me. If I’m not they don’t.

It’s the same with us. Do you know what it’s like to be in a group that accepts you and welcomes your input? You’re freer to share, free to be yourself and you feel safe. Conversely have you ever been in a group or situation where you feel your contribution is annoying or you feel patronized?

Kids get that too. They know if they are welcomed or not. They may not be able to articulate it, but they can certainly discern whether their presence is agreeable to you. They know if you’re interested in their day, their friends or that big game. Children who feel accepted will have a greater sense of self confidence and they will be free to be their most genuine self. In addition, they will feel more compelled to be agreeable towards a parent, teacher or grownup who cherishes them as opposed to tolerates them.

So this could be in our favor adults. If we would commit to allowing children to express themselves in a manner that seems right to them, provided it isn’t truly hurting anyone else, we might find that the old adage is untrue. Children should be seen and heard.

Would it be such a bad thing if we heard more laughter? Really? Imagine a society that invites children to dialogue and wonder and imagine; parents who played games when waiting in line instead of bribing silence with candy and grandparents who turned off the T.V. and entertained us with stories about the good days. What if our teachers let kids process answers even if that means they are wrong at first? What if we looked our kids in the eye when they spoke to us? What if we treated children like we want to be treated? What would we hear? And would it really be so terrible? I think it would be wonderful. Why? Because I’m the mom and I said so! That’s why!

This article appears in the Monmouth Daily Review Atlas as a part of a weekly Practical Parenting series. Stephanie is a mother to 5 children and is a Parent Educator for the Monmouth-Roseville School District. She blogs at stephaniesikorski.blogspot.com and can be reached at ssikorski@mr238.org It should be noted that she tries to take her own advice.

Menu Monday

2012-04-02T14:23:00.001-05:00

Hi! Are you cooking this week? I don't feel like cooking but my hungry tribe demands food so rather than stress out about what to do/what to eat/what to buy I compulsively plan out our evening dinners. There are no new recipes here .... we're in that season where I gotta fall back on our tried & try recipes to get me by. I have no time lately to invent recipes and try out new ideas. But that's exactly what recipe boxes & food boards on Pinterest are all about .... collecting and falling back on your favorite foods!
Here's our favorite/quick/inexpensive meals this week! Try some out if you want or heck, steal the whole menu and you could feed your family this week!

Sunday
Fried Potatoes, bacon, sausage, scrambled eggs & Monkey Bread (....mmmmmmMonkey Bread!)

Monday
Pioneer Woman Dr. pepper Pork Sandwiches (minus the adobe sauce) & Crock Pot Potatoes
(seriously - this was the easiest, quickest meal for me to clean up!)

Tuesday
Spinach Stuffed Shells, Garlic Bread & Two Cheese Salad
(even though I only use one cheese :)

Wednesday
YoYo aka Your On Your Own

Thursday
Homemade Pizza - sausage, pepperoni or cheese but sometimes we do Chicken and Alfredo!
(thank you Boboli!)

Friday
Campbells Creamy Chicken Enchiladas w Chips & Cheese

Saturday
Beef n Cheddar with Sweet potato fries (my favorite yum!)

As always I love the link up at Menu Plan Monday! Check them out for even more and even better menu ideas!

Best of Times, Worst of Times - Finance Friday

2012-03-30T09:12:00.000-05:00

It is Finance Friday on my blog.
The day of the week we're I've gotten into the habit of letting my feelings about our finances (or lack there of) fly freely across the keyboard.
It's been very ... um ... therapeutic.

So as I sit down today to reflect I am reminded once again of seasons.
Even though I wrote about that in another way just earlier this week.

I want the world to know so badly that it is so true ... it is ALWAYS darkest before the dawn.

Just a year ago, I was at the end of myself, my mental capabilities frayed beyond recognition of myself. While I whole heartily supported the shift in our life plans
I simultaneously feared the consequences.

40. Unemployed.
5 kids.
Tuition.
Gas Prices.
Fretting.
Defending.
Trudging forward.

Now I know, I KNOW what Charles Dickens meant when he wrote in A Tale of Two Cities:

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times"

How can - even with the gift of hindsight - one thing be simultaneously terrible and beautiful?

How?

As I reflect over the last year, it's been a very difficult and challenging time. Very. But that's just on the one hand. On the other hand, it's been a time of regrouping, resting and rebuilding with moments of utter refreshing.

Would we have had those moments, made those memories, if we weren't in the position we were in?
I think not.

Does that make it worth it?

It's been very dark. And a little lonely at times here at Sikorski Avenue but I've had my eye on the horizon and I think I see the dawn breaking.

And guess what?

I think it's going to be beautiful.

Did you see the Trees?

2012-03-29T09:00:00.000-05:00

I just HAD to stop and take a picture of this gorgeous magnolia tree. I drive by it every morning on my way to school. One day out of nowhere, it seems, it was covered in blooms. Then before I knew it, the petals were dropping to the ground.
It's beauty is fleeting.
It made me feel kind of sad.

I also drive by this oak everyday.
Can you see it's still holding onto last year's leaves?
It never let go.
Spring is here but it has never let go of it's grungy, dead, brown leaves.

Doesn't this tree know Spring is here? It's time for new leaves!
I want to shake it's trunk and tell it now is not the time to hold on to the old.
I feel afraid this tree is going to miss out on the most beautiful time of the year.

This is the tree outside our home.
It's pretty isn't it?
It's a cherry tree that has never given fruit.
We planted it years ago and have yet to recieve one red, sweet cherry.

So for our anniversary last year we got a second cherry tree.
It's tiny, perhaps 3 feet tall. But maybe that's what we needed; a little cross pollination.
Will I get fruit this year?
I don't know but
I've been reminded of one very important lesson.
Look at the trees and see that
after the winter it's time to bloom,
(You know winter; the time of dark and barren coldness)
and turn green,
and drop old leaves.
Because there is a season to bear fruit.
And because I don't want my cherry trees to not fullfill their purpose.
Because I want fruit.
Cherry and otherwise.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad