My 2018 Wish for You

Goodbye 2017; hello, 2018!

The world felt like it went to hell in 2017, but you know what? It was an opportunity for us to fight for what we believe in harder than ever before. Even – and especially – when it felt like we may lose. As my morbid but truthful friend says about our bodies’ continual wars against death: “And even if it looks like defeat is assured, like there is no hope, like we absolutely cannot win… well, we can handle an unwinnable war on ten million fronts, what’s one more?”

In 2018, we’ll continue to fight that good fight for us and our kids.

But I hope within all of that difficulty and challenge that you take time and space to have fun.

Continue reading

2017’s Best of We’ll Eat You Up, We Love You So

2017's Best of We'll Eat You Up, We Love You So (Photo: Cartoon of a party hat)

2018 is approaching at astonishing speed! 2017 was a hell of a year in so many ways.

Politically, it was….well, it was bad. But it wasn’t as bad as I thought it could be, mainly because I have a dark imagination and have read a lot of dystopic fiction. I’m actually surprised at how non-despairing I am coming to the end of the year!

My attitude is decent in part because of the good things in my personal life. Those have made up for a lot of the big picture shit. Sure, life with a preschooler and toddler is far from easy. But the worst of the one to two kid transition is over. We had some great family trips. Most importantly, I felt like I could finally breathe again. Even if I haven’t managed to get any more sleep than I had been.

Throughout the year, my posts have chronicled the ups and downs, as well as offered some hard-learned advice.

Here were my top five most popular posts original to 2017 (leaving out the gift guides). Fortunately, they’re also some of my favorite!

Here are a few more that weren’t quite as popular, but either people said meant a lot to them or I just personally liked:

If you missed them at the time, I also published articles in the Washington Post, Mamalode, Her View from Home, and Perfection Pending.

I hope everyone has a great New Years and is ready for 2018!

Six Easy Ways You Can Slow Down Life as a Parent

Ever wish you could slow down life a little bit? Here are five ways my family has been able to! 

Six Easy Ways that You Can Slow Down Life as a Parent (Photo: Kid with a hat and green jacket sitting in leaves)

With only a half-hour left of our three-hour car ride, my almost two-year-old’s eyes flutter open. “Uh, oh,” I think. Then the screaming starts. (Him, not me.) All he wants is to be home right this second! Why can’t we grant him that simple request?

While his crying grates on our ears, are we adults all that different? After all, most of us want things immediately, whether that’s our coffee at Starbucks, our computer to boot up, or our husband to stop playing video games. I’m a can-do, let’s get going, do this thing kind of gal. I want to do All the Things Right This Second.

Yet, much like our never-ending car ride, life never quite cooperates. As my pastor pointed out recently, even light, the fastest thing in the universe, isn’t instantaneous. There are stars born millions of years ago whose light hasn’t reached us here on Earth.

Very few of us actually want to rush around. We’d rather slow down life, luxuriate in simple tasks well done, and appreciate being in the moment (as long as the moment doesn’t involve whining). I know I enjoy moments with my kids and husband a hell of a lot more when I’m not impatiently thinking about the future.

On top of that, we want to teach our children patience and gratitude. No one wants to raise entitled brats who are never satisfied with what they have.

But giving up that need for instant gratification is a lot easier said than done. While I’m a work in progress, here are some ways I’ve found that I and my family can deliberately slow down life together.

Continue reading

Guest Post: Why We Need to Take the Word Should Out of Our Parenting

“You need to stop using that word,” my husband says whenever I start a sentence with “I should really….” It turns out, he’s right. All of that focus on “should” spikes my anxiety and makes me feel like I’m not enough.

From not worrying so much about my kids’ birthday parties to forgoing a first-day-of-school sign, I’ve been learning to care less and less about what I “should” be doing as a parent. So I wrote about my journey and what’s helped me over at Perfection Pending: Why We Need to Take the Word Should Out of Our Parenting (now hosted at Filter Free Parents).

Here’s the introduction:

At midnight, the day before my son’s very first day of preschool, I committed a mortal parenting sin. I chose not to make a sign for his first-day-of-school photos. Now, this may seem like a minor offense – at best. After all, I wasn’t sending him to bed without his dinner.

But if you underestimate how momentous this decision was, you clearly missed the barrage of back-to-school Facebook posts by parents of small children. Even among my fairly low-key friends, there was a parade of increasingly elaborate signs, ranging from cute printouts all the way up to actual chalkboards.

But me? I bowed out of all of it.

Read more over at Perfection Pending!

How to Stop Making Parenting Decisions Based on What You Think You "Should" Do (Photo: White mom with a white young boy on her lap and a cat sitting between them)

Finding Home at Our House for the Holidays

Christmas tree with colored lights shining on wall.When I close my eyes during Christmastime, I see my parents’ house, with its fresh tree with white twinkling lights, ornaments from my childhood dangling off it. My dad has classic rock on in the background, either from an ancient speaker system or the TV, depending on what memory I’m drawing from. In the kitchen, my mom is making a gingerbread house with my older son, placing marshmallows just-so.

Closing them again, I see my in-laws’ house, all singing animatronics, baskets of candy, and holiday music. I’m lounging with my husband’s family on their brown plaid couch, gazing at the multi-colored lights. It’s not quite as familiar as my own parents’ house, but is still embedded in my heart and mind.

But when I open my eyes, none of that is present. It’s not even accessible – neither my parents or my in-laws live in those houses anymore.

Yet, despite that loss, it feels like we’re finally home for Christmas. That’s because this is the first year my husband and I have celebrated Christmas with our kids in our own house.

Continue reading

Why Santa Will Never Lose His Magic in Our Household

Why Santa Will Never Lose His Magic in Our Household (Photo: Photo of a traditional-looking Santa Claus, tipping his hood)

“Do you want to go see Santa?” I asked my kids, standing outside the mall Christmas display. My one-and-a-half year old shook his head vigorously, while my four-year-old (nicknamed Sprout) just said, “No” in the same tone he gives me at bedtime. But that doesn’t mean they dislike Santa – just the mall version. And that’s just fine with me. Instead of forcing my kids to sit on some dude’s lap, we’re finding deeper ways to maintain Santa’s beauty and magic.

In our household, Santa is a complicated person.

Continue reading

Struggling with My Past to Empower My Son’s Future

Struggling with My Past to Empower My Son's Future (Photo: White boy throwing his head back in front of a plate of food.)

“I talked to the teacher today,” my husband said while he was making dinner. While his statement was neutral, his strangled tone of voice revealed something was wrong. “The teacher” is our four-year-old’s preschool teacher.

After we put the kids to bed, he said, “She said he’s having trouble makingfriends.”

Ah. That’s what it was.

Continue reading

How I Failed at Christmas – And I Didn’t Care

How I Failed at Christmas - And Didn't Care

 

A few years ago, I thought about what I had to do before Christmas and had a deep, sinking feeling. My own bedtime was already too late, my to-do list too long, and my anxieties far too sharp. I had gone through a personal tragedy earlier in the year and was struggling with a difficult pregnancy.

As much as I hated it, I had to give some things up. Even if it meant I felt like I was failing at Christmas. As it turned out, I didn’t regret a thing.

Here’s what I ended up not doing, what I learned, and what I’ve picked back up (and not) since then:

Continue reading

Using An Annoyance to Spark a Powerful Conversation with My Child

This singing Christmas tree is the bane of our holiday existence. But good things – even deep insights – can come from the most annoying of situations.

While some people can’t stand non-stop carols or mall parking lots during the holiday season, this tree bugs us the entire month of December. My mother-in-law bought it for my older son (nicknamed Sprout) a few years ago. Since then, he has played it as many times as we would possibly let him. First thing in the morning. Last thing before bedtime. Random times during the day until my husband finally gets sick of it and puts it away. While the song is cute the first time, it’s grating the 60th time. But I just don’t have the heart to get rid of it.

Continue reading

Guest Post: How to Use the Power of Stories to Connect and Teach

What are your favorite stories from childhood? While I have many beloved fictional stories, I also hold the family stories my parents hold me close to my heart. Now, we share those stories and others with our kids as part of a long tradition.

I wrote about the power of sharing stories over at A Fine Parent with the article “How to Use the Power of Stories to Connect and Teach.

How to Use the Power of Stories to Connect and Teach (Photo: Boy and older woman sitting on a couch, smiling at each other)

Gathered around a fire, a mother and child talk in quiet voices.

The flames leap as the mother tells the child stories of ancestors, far-away lands, and fantastic situations. Drowsy, the child falls asleep, her head on her mother’s lap.

This could be a scene from 10,000 years ago or 10 days ago.

Storytelling is a core part of what makes us human.

Read the rest over at A Fine Parent!