Transitions...

One of my favorite quotes from the movie Hope Floats is the following: "Beginnings are usually scary, endings are usually sad, but it's what's in the middle that counts."

I find myself in the midst of transition. First let me say I hate change. I like routines, regurity and the familiar. Kinda funny that I grew up moving around what seemed like every 3-4 years. I have favorite resturants at which I order the same thing. I pick resturants first by how much I like their sweet tea and then by whether or not I'm in the mood for the one thing on the menu I always order. I'm not one to try new things or live on the edge. I'd like to think im adventurous but in reality, I'm very predictable. 

So the thought of any kind of major change brings on the OCD counting, cleaning and controlling monster. In mid June I resigned from my current job at Vanderbilt and accepted a job for a school district. This move wasn't spur of the moment. It was prayerful and something that God began preparing me for a year ago. 

In many ways I'm comfortable at my current job. Yes there are the typical stressors that any job has but for the most part it's an easy job where I have been able to use my creative, organizational and administrative skills. One of the best things about my current job has been the flexibility to be home in the mornings with Addyson these past two years. 

A year ago I was still wrestling with God about wanting to be a stay at home mom and not having to work outside the home. I had reworked the budget numerous times. Brainstormed ways to work from home.  In my anger I often questioned why ministry doesn't pay more and why God wouldn't give me what I wanted...to be a stay at home mom. 

I began praying, boldly praying that The Lord would provide. Praying that I wouldn't rely on His past faithfulness to be enough to carry me through current daily struggles. I got into the Word through Good Morning Girls bible studies. I found making my quiet time with God a priority changed me. It also made me want it more. Made me want God in a deeper way than I ever have before. A year ago I wouldn't have even considered getting back into social work full time. Thinking teaching a social work class at Trevecca was enough at first. But throughout the year God stirred within me a desire to return to my first profession, the one He called me to long before I held the title wife or mom. 

In January I stopped praying vague generic "God please provide for us" prayers and began praying specific, to the point prayers. Asking the Lord to open the door for me to work somewhere that would allow me to be home in the evenings and have summers off seemed like a huge request.

The time came for us to look at preschools for Addyson. Without knowing how we would pay for it let alone if I would actually be ready for her to go. I got a call, actually a few calls, to interview for a job that met all of my requirements. Thinking it was too good to be true I said I would interview even though I really didn't think I was at a point of changing jobs. Yes, The Lord has been preparing me for this change months in the making.

Something happens when we boldly pray. I remember driving to work praying as I often do it was as if The Lord said to my heart "just think how many lives and families you can impact if you take this job." It was in that moment that I felt overwhelming peace. The Lord answered this OCD girls bold prayers and has prepared the way for me to start my new job at the end of July. 

To be honest I'm still nervous, sad, scared and excited about this transition. The mix of emotions are real and sometimes raw. I will have 9 schools that I will travel between. My office will be my car and it will be different work every day. I will have to develop a new routine. Yes, I will have summers off, but I will be working hard for 10 months before I reap the benefit of having the summer off with my favorite girl.

Thursday night as I sat in a missionary service at our denominations district assembly I had one of those God moments. Like the kind of moment when you feel like the speaker is talking directly to you even though you are in a room of hundreds of people. The speakers wife (who couldn't be there) greeted us with a video message. In it she shared a quote from Elisabeth Elliot. It was the only thing I heard all night and pierced my soul.

Elisabeth Elliot is the wife of Jim Elliot, a missionary killed by the remote tribe he was called to minister to in Equador. Even after he was killed she remained for two years and ministered to the tribe who took her husbands life.

"This job has been given to me to do. Therefore, it is a gift. Therefore, it is a privilege. Therefore, it is an offering I may make to God. Therefore, it is to be done gladly, if it is done for Him. Here, not somewhere else, I may learn God’s way. In this job, not in some other, God looks for faithfulness." Elisabeth Elliot

Wow! What a calling God has placed on my life both as a mom and a social worker. The job God has given me to do can't be taken lightly. This job as a mama and as a social worker must be done with intentionality. It must be rooted in deep bold prayers. It must be done with compassion. These job are both important.

This quote rattled my sole. The words spoke to a deep hurt place in my heart that resented the fact that I can't be a stay at home mom. Like a healing salve it renewed my heart.

This quote will be my calling and mission statement as I transition into my new job. As much as I hate change I know it is needed. Even good change is hard. 

As I focus on the job at hand I will remain fully preset in the moment!

Tears of Healing

I'm a crier. I cry when I'm happy. I cry when I'm sad. I even cry when I see other people crying. I cry every time I leave me parents or they leave me after a visit. I cry when I pray. I cry during movies. I cry when I'm stressed. I cried today. I often feel better after a good cry.

I remember working with a client who returned from rehab. She returned a new person, naturally, after being in a rehab facility away from her addiction and all the vices it entailed. In my time as a child and family therapist, clients came and went. Some families stick out in my memory, and many helped lay a foundation as a helping professional. This particular client came back and was eager to share all she had learned in her 90 days away. She looked like a new person, far from the drug induced shell of a person I encouraged to  go to rehab months earlier. As she sat in my office she shared story after story of her time away. Making amends, meetings, new friends, and beautiful manicured fingernails were topics discussed as well as detox, regrets and crying. She shared something that has stuck with me as I interact with others. She shared that her therapist who led groups at the rehab facility corrected her one day in group. She was embarrassed at the time but  learned an incredible lesson and the tables were turned that day as i became the student learning a valuable lesson from my client.

She told me one day in group as people shared the story of their addictive behaviors one person began to cry. My client naturally got up and handed her the box of tissues when the therapist leading the group suddenly stopped her. He told my client that the tissues would remain where they were on the shelf and if anyone wanted to get one they could get up and get it themselves. She continued sharing that the therapist went on to explain that in group and at the treatment rehab it was okay to cry. Offering tissues to a person crying sends the message to them that they should stop. That it's not okay or acceptable to cry. In reality crying is a good thing, a healthy thing.

I will never forget that conversation. I will never forget what I learned that day.

As I think about the various emotions that tomorrow, Father's Day, will bring I can't help but remember the tissue box conversation that changed my perspective of crying.

I won't be able to be with my dad tomorrow on Father's Day because of the miles that separate us and I will be sad. But I have friends who will celebrate their first fathers day and that brings a sense of excitement and joy. And then there are the ones who will celebrate Father's day without their dad because of death. Tomorrow I will celebrate with my miracle baby and her great daddy. There will be cards, a gift and family time at a baseball game, and knowing me I will cry happy tears.

I think it is okay to cry. Strong people cry. Weak people hide their emotions. Crying is okay. Crying is good for you. Crying makes you feel better, but sometimes it also make you feel worse.

I heard a grieving widow once say, "don't feel bad for me when I cry in front of you...these are tears of healing." Wow, what a beautifully honest statement.

So don't feel offended if you cry in front of me and I don't offer you tissues. My tears and the tears you cry my dear friend, are tears of healing. Healing takes time. Healing hurts. Healing does happen. 

Let the tears of healing flow as you remain fully present in the moment.

Tales From the Toilet & Other Lessons Learned from Potty Training

A couple weeks ago we began the much dreaded potty training task with our toddler. I will openly admit that this is the parenting task/stage that I am the most intimidated by. I have talked to veteran moms about my "I'm gonna mess her up for good" fears and they have all reassured me that I won't. I've read and re-read parenting blogs, toilet training tips, books and articles. I work in a school with potty training gurus. And yet it is still intimidating, frightening and nerve wracking. So I braved Babies R Us purchased two princess potty seats, "big girl" undies and an industrial size bag of M&Ms.

 Yes, I know many veteran moms will read this and think, "Ha! You just wait...potty training is easy compared to __________ (fill in the blank). But for this OCD Mama potty training scares me. Regardless of my fears and phobias if I survived cloth diapering, I can handle this right?

 Over the past two weeks (which feel like years) I have learned a thing or two about potty training. I also find it a little ironic that I would dare to take on this parenting challenge while my hubby is at camp for two weeks. Perhaps this is an addition to last years blog post Top 10 Reasons Why I Wish I Was At Junior High Camp. 

Let me first begin by saying that I have now seen nearly every restroom in the greater Nashville area as my precious toddler wants to look at every bathroom everywhere we go. Tonight when we walked into a bathroom she hadn't been in before and she immediately said "o it's amazing." Let me tell you there was nothing amazing about this particular restroom. But to my princess in training, she was amazed. I can tell you which restaurant has a clean bathroom, which gas station potty to avoid and when it is necessary to wait till we get home. Yet I have learned that when your toddler says they gotta go...there's a 50/50 chance they will go...so even if you are mid bite or on the phone you drop everything and run to the potty.

This OCD Mama has had to set my fears, phobias and intrusive thoughts aside as we have embraced pull ups, princess undies and potty treats. I avoid going to the bathroom in public places at all costs. They are breading grounds for all kinds of bacteria, germs and disease, but when you are potty training a toddler all that has to be ignored.  I have learned that these days we run to the potty every chance we get in hopes of having a dry pull up or undies. Our goal is to keep the princess undies dry and get a treat. No easy task for the OCD Mama.

I can now proudly whip out the fold and go potty seat (they are worth every penny) in record time, juggling a squirmy toddler, purse, backpack all while repeatedly saying "don't touch anything" to my very curious tot. Yet there is no way I can keep the obsessive thoughts at bay. They swarm around in my mind like bees overtake their hive. It's as if each thing she touches will lead to my  "worst case scenario" thought coming true. These obsessive thoughts cause the compulsive desires to engage in battle.  But I am learning to leave the OCD Mama at the door and be a Fully Present Mama.

So I find myself in broken record fashion saying "don't touch", "that's gross", "that's really yucky" to my miracle baby. As if my heart is outside my body in the most germ filled place just waiting to be attacked. And yet my Addyson finds these interactions exciting. She giggles and squeals with glee as she sits on her Cars Potty seat (it was the only fold and go one I could find). She  is so proud of herself when she pees and poops in the potty which is rewarded with an M&M. Even when she doesn't go, she simply states "we'll try again". Her lighthearted attitude and ability to go with the flow (no pun intended) helps me conquer this new milestone. I am learning that my OCD is mine and not hers. I can't and won't put my fears onto her.

Through this potty training journey I have also learned the importance of P.P (pun intended). Patience and Practice have become my mantra. I often have to remind myself that I must be patent and Addyson must practice. Potty training, like any new skill takes time and practice.

The other thing I have learned as weird as it is, is I have to be thankful for the accidents. You see one of the many things I have learned from working where I do is that to me potty training may be my biggest parenting woe, but for some parents they only wish their child would reach this milestone. I really believe that we as parents must become more aware of the things we say. We have to realize that every child is different. For some parents they will forever be changing diapers. So I have to remind myself to be fully present in the moment sometimes means being grateful for the good and the bad, for my worst day could be some parents best day ever.

I am also finding myself having to laugh through this chore  journey. For instance when I use the rest room and addyson tells everyone how stinky it was. Or the time that she cheered and told me I could get a treat. But my favorite has to be when she puts her hand to her ear and listens for her pee pee to come out saying "hear it mama?"

So if you're in a public restroom in the near future and you hear a toddler voice belt out the chorus of "Let it Go" that would be my miracle baby.  And yes, I usually sing along in hope that she will indeed "let it go" in the potty.  Here's to being fully present in the moment!

Dear Lady, Stop Staring at Me!

Dear Lady in Buffalo Wild Wings, 

 Please stop staring at me and my toddler. I know that my adorable toddler just threw an entire basket of fries on the floor, but you staring at me is not helping my situation. 

Yes, I am fully aware of the crying tantrum happening in my midst and your glaring eye isn't helping one bit. I don't know, maybe you expected your boyfriend, sugar daddy, husband or whatever he may be, to bring you out for a nice peaceful dinner, but hate to break it ya but you are at BWW and its a little loud in here. That is one of the reasons we are here tonight. Besides having a gift card, we know that this eating establishment isn't for the faint at heart. It's not the quiet candlelight, look into each others eyes, romantic dinner place. This is one of the few non-fast food restaurants we can go to and I don't have to worry about my very vocal toddler bothering anyone. If the obnoxiously loud TVs blaring isn't enough I'm pretty sure the sporadic cheering and other choice words that are expressed for each bad play, call or score don't bother you are in the right place. 

Yup, I'm pretty sure the table of basketball players or the little leaguers beside us are more interesting, yet your eyes are fixed on me and my toddler as we sit on the floor. My eyes dart at my tot and back at you again as I calmly explain why we don't throw food and try to convince my tot to pick up the fries. You see, we are trying to make this a teachable moment. So stare away, but we will be sitting right here until my miracle baby starts picking up the fries. Stop looking at me like I'm a cruel parent after all it wasn't an accident, the fries didn't slip off the table, they were thrown with force. What can I say, she's got a good arm. 

 My sigh of relief cuts the tension in the air as my girl starts putting the fries back in the basket and looks up at me and says "sorry mama." And as quickly as gravity caused the fries to fly to the floor, the moment was over. My precarious tot was back seated at the table and coloring like an angel. So please stop staring. 

I'm not sure if you know this or not...parenting is hard. It doesn't come with instructions. There are no short cuts, easy ways out or magic spells. It's hard, discouraging and an uphill climb. So maybe instead of staring at me, you could smile. I don't know, offer an encouraging "it gets better" pep talk. Or just ignore the fry flying, tamper tantrum, restaurant ruckus happening over here. After all, I promise not to stare at you every time you pound the table cause your team is loosing. 

 Love,

 a very tired Mama