minimizing mean girl-ery

I was standing in line at h&m the other day behind a group of 4 teenage girls. 2 of the girls shared a secret with one another and deliberately, emphatically left out one of the other girls. I think her name was carly or something. The other girl ambivalently kind of ignored them, while the girl who i can only assume was carly looked wounded for an instant, then brushed it off and giggled nervously, as if she was in on this "exclude carly" thing like it was some kind of joke. except it wasn't a joke. It was the age old game of girls being mean to other girls, for what seems to be no reason.

The middle-aged woman behind me in the line and i looked at each other, when i said {probably a little too loudly} "ugh. i hated being teenager. girls are so mean." ambivalent girl looked at me, gave me a passive look, and followed the other three out of the store for what would probably be a very calculated and unpleasant afternoon.

what i told the woman in line was only half true. i'd said it to make a point in the only way i knew how. yes, girls are so mean. but i didn't hate being a teenager, because i was blessed with probably the only nice teenage girls on the planet for my friends. {with the exception of one girl who seemed to believe it was her life's work and purpose to make me feel terrible about myself}, my high school years were virtually mean girl free. but one mean girl was enough for me to know how they work, and how to let it not affect me or my self-worth.

i feel like with all the buzz lately on "bullying" and "cyber-bullying" {ugh i hate the prefix 'cyber' and the word 'bullying'}, a lot of us are overlooking the everyday meanness that happens in real life.

i want to get something straight. bullying isn't the same as girls just being mean. at least not in my book.
in the dictionary, a bully is defined as {and i quote:} a blustering, quarrelsome, overbearing person who habitually badgers and intimidates smaller or weaker people.
i think that most mean girls are just regular girls who at one time or another {however often} sacrifice the feelings of one for acceptance from the whole. this doesn't make them serial bullies. {usually}. it makes them insecure individuals trying to find their place in the world. it makes them teenagers. a girl isn't a bully because she makes mistakes. the problem arises when several girls are making the same mistakes, in the same place, all at once.

i think once a standard of mocking and malicious teasing is set, girls think they have to follow suit in order to stay alive. one girl makes a mean joke and everyone laughs along at the target's expense, in order to avoid becoming the next target. the cycle is then perpetuated when girls continue to avoid being the target by creating new targets by being even meaner. and then the cycle becomes impossible to break. i've decided just now to call this "the cycle of mean." what these girls don't realize is that they don't need to belittle some girls in order for other girls to like them. most girls are more impressed by kindness than anything else. well, the girls worth being friends with anyway.

when i was pregnant with bea, i was thrilled to discover i was having a girl, but at the same time i dreaded that day when she would have her first taste of mean girl-ery. while i managed to escape adolescence mostly unscathed, i fell witness to some nasty antics performed at the expense of my little sister. i know how awful it can be. i've tried to pull from my memory the methods employed in my own experience and my experiences with my friends to minimize the mean in our lives and i have some thoughts and i guess what i would consider tips...? {i don't consider myself a sage or anything so i'm not sure if i'm qualified to tip, but. anyway.} i'll be sharing these with bea when she enters the world of little girls.

refuse to be manipulated
i feel like this is the number one tip to avoid mean girl-ery. when i was in preschool, i came home one day almost in tears and explained to my mother that some girl i was friends with {whom i no longer remember} had decided and told me, completely out of the blue, that she no longer wanted to "be my friend anymore", as preschool girls do. my mom offered me the best advice she's ever given me that day. she said something along the lines of, "Caity, whenever someone tells you they don't want to be your friend anymore, they usually don't mean it. Just say 'Ok! come find me when we can be friends again!' and then just go play with someone else." the rest is pretty much history. i avoided 100% of elementary school drama this way. i realize, this is preschool level advice. but the principle of refusing to be manipulated is timeless. if a girl is messing with you, don't allow it to affect you. not only does refusing to let others have power over you empower you, it lessens the influence of the perpetrator on others, thus limiting the cycle of mean. when a manipulator feels powerless, they eventually lose their will to manipulate.

refuse to reinforce mean activity
i would say this is even more effective than actually speaking up and challenging an offender. when  meanness is fueled by laughter or affirmation from others, the cycle is perpetuated. when meanness is greeted by wide-eyes and cricket-chirps, it not only halts the momentum of mean, but it embarrasses the aggressor. and if there is one thing teenage/tweenage girls can't stand, it's embarrassment. if, in that moment where laughter and encouragement for bad behavior normally take place, the offender is greeted with silence, they {if they have a conscience} will have a moment to be ashamed of having been mean, and they will think twice before doing it again. i've seen it happen. the less of a reaction the meanies get, the less they perform. no one likes to perform for a dud audience.

refuse to instigate
i know this is totally obvious but when caught in the moment, it can be very easy to let the mean slip out. don't let it. nothing you will ever say is funny or clever enough to merit hurting someone else's feelings. 

i hope i can drill these principles into bea's head before she starts school. i hope every mother of every girl can instill similar ideas into their girls' heads someday. there's a quote by one of the leaders of my church that says: "When it comes to hating, gossiping, ignoring, ridiculing, holding grudges, or wanting to cause harm, please apply the following: Stop it!" one day, hopefully our girls can be part of the movement that says "stop it!" to the mean girls.

Let It Go

I feel like I can truly say I have learned to Let It Go, since living in my approximately 120 sq. ft. room in my parent's house.  We have never had a lot of things, and I think living here has just confirmed that I don't really like having a lot of things.  I love how cozy we are and how easy it is to tidy up.  Because I love how easy it is to clean up so much "stuff" on the outside, I have been thinking about ways to help myself live a little less stressed out, and a little more care-free on the inside.  What ways can I more easily clean up the "stuff" going on in my mind?  Here are some things I have found that help me out a little.

When something feels “heavy”, LET IT GO!  When it comes to clothing or an object in my life, I find this is a really easy concept, because for me, I need light and upward movement.  When something feels like it is weighing me down, I let it go.  Some examples of things that weigh down my mind are, comparing myself with others, stressing about things that are out of my control, saying “yes” to too many things, not being true to myself in any decision, and when I put someone down (even if it is just in my mind).  Ways I have found to lift this heaviness is, prayer, FIRST! The One who can lift my burdens, is the One who has already taken them through the Garden.  The next thing I do is get rid of it.  I like to think I have a little trashcan in my brain, kinda like on the computer, and when I don’t like the thought or the feeling, I “click” on it and move it to the trashcan.   And third, I sing/listen to a fun song! The other day I started to feel “heavy” and when I got in the car to go somewhere, Poker Face by Lady Gaga came on.  I turned it up crazy loud and just sang and danced and I looked like a crazy woman, but I felt SO good after!!

When things start to get cluttered, LET IT GO!  I HATE CLUTTER! Like, seriously, I do.  But, um, I make a lot of it… Cade calls me the “pile queen” because I just move piles around the house.  When I clean, I make piles.  I don’t know what it is! Haha!! Anyways, I hate clutter, so when I get too many piles going on the outside and on the “inside” I start to pick at a pile.  In my mind, stressing about too many things or having too many things going on creates some piles.  I’ve found that to sit down and make a list helps me to clean out those piles quickly and efficiently.  I see the things that I am stressing about and realize what I can control and what I can’t.   When I see what I can control, I can start finding a solution/figure out a different schedule/start working on that project, etc.,.  The same helps me on the outside.  I just pick a pile and start cleaning it.  

And lastly, when things just seem too overwhelming, and trying to clean the clutter, stop the noise, or you just can’t LET GO right then… LET GO and GO TO TARGET! HAHA or wherever you feel fun and happy.  I usually like to treat myself with something small, a diet coke and a t-shirt or new razors.  (A new razor, and a good grooming, always makes me feel like a new woman ;)  

It isn’t always easy to let go or downsize, but there is definitely a freeing effect when you do.  I don’t have it all figured out, obviously, and I find myself at Target a lot more than I’d like to admit.  When I do practice what I preach, I find that I can be a better wife, a better mom, and a better me.  "What are some ways you "Let It Go"? I'd love to hear some other strategies!!

XOXO britt 

Happy November

Written By: Sally

Happy November People! Aside from the impending doom of another Connecticut winter, I have been really excited to welcome November. It's the beginning of the holiday season with Thanksgiving around the corner, and Christmas not far behind. It's a time of year filled with traditions and celebrations. So many of my favorite memories from childhood, (and adulthood) have these chilly, cheery months as a backdrop.

Each year, around early November, my mom would bring the winter boxes out of storage.  We packed away our summer clothes and unpacked the warm things. She'd have me try on clothes to figure out what still fit and what hand me downs I had grown into. As simple and seemingly mundane of a task this was, it was something I always looked forward to. In fact, it's one of the traditions that I have held onto as I've started my own family.

I'm sure all those years that my mom did this, she wasn't thinking, "I'm going to make this elaborate tradition for my kids to fondly remember their childhood." It was just something we did together every year. It was just a sign of the changing seasons. But for me, it was a little bit magical.

This week was the big week around here. We pulled out our coats and mittens and filled the boxes with our flip flops and swim suits to pack them away for the winter. As I was feeling all sentimental about the process it really made me think: "Why is this such a meaningful tradition to me? Why do I even remember it?"

It's had me wondering about what my children will remember about me, and about our life now. My mom has been my best friend as long as I can remember. Will my kids  feel the same about me? I really really hope so. I pray constantly, that I'll have the relationship with my children that I have with my mom. What God reminds me of over and over, is that our relationship wasn't built in a day. There wasn't one big thing she did that made me love her and admire her. It was the hundreds of grocery trips; there were countless conversations in the car after school. It was the helping with homework, and the unpacking of winter clothes.

It's not like we didn't have special holiday traditions; we have a few. A thanksgiving toast. Putting up our Christmas Tree on my parents' anniversary. Making a nativity craft on Christmas Eve. Eggs Benedict for Christmas breakfast. But none of them were extravagant. All of these things took place on our living room floor, or around our kitchen table. They weren't expensive and didn't require any serious skill. We didn't even have to leave our house. But the common thread between all of them, is that we were together.

Isn't that the purpose of traditions? To bring us together?

I'm not one for elaborate schemes or decorations. Mostly because it's not something that comes naturally to me. I don't believe in mountains of presents or intricate traditions. But what I do believe in is the power of quality time. I've just experienced my 26th Halloween. And do you know which one stands out the most? It was when I was 4 or 5 and Halloween fell on a Sunday. We were all devastated that our parents wouldn't let us trick or treat that night. But they pulled out Monopoly, popped popcorn and the four of us kids laid on the living room floor playing board games while trick or treaters came and went. We didn't get candy or costumes that year. But we got a really fun night together, and that memory got a special spot in my heart.
There's a lot of pressure these days to create elaborate and labor intensive traditions for our families. It can be exhausting, and down right intimidating. But, if you're like me, and lack the Pinterest gene, just remember, the things that will always be most special to your family is the time you spend with them and the way you make them feel. For me, that was always the real magic of the holidays.

Photos By: Shanda Photography

On pregnancy and loss

I have written this post in my head many, many times and have thought about it even more. I sometimes have worried that writing my story would just bring back the overwhelming heartache I felt that day and the days,weeks, even months following. But I have learned that when you experience a loss, expressing your feelings and writing them down can be cathartic. And perhaps, there is a friend or someone reading this post that can benefit somehow from it. If that someone is reading this, you are not alone. Trust me on this, for I have been through this not just once, but twice.
These losses were miscarriages. I recently read miscarriage referred to as the "Voldermort of women's health issues." And it cannot be more true. Few people who experience it want to talk about it. Why? There are many reasons.. In my experience, it was heartbreaking to think about, let alone talk about. Plus, though I had made it through my first trimester, we had never announced the pregnancy. How was I supposed to bring up my miscarriage to all my friends and family who never even knew I was pregnant to begin with?

And this is me talking about my miscarriage, this is my story. In May 2012 my husband, Brandon and I were busy with preparations for moving to Spain for a masters degree program when I found out that I was pregnant. This was not my first, we already had a beautiful little boy who was a little over a year old. And all I could feel was nervous, anxious, unsure of what would happen, frustrated of the situation (imminent move overseas!) and just scared. We kept the news to ourselves, knowing all those who loved us would be a bit worried as well. We had already spent hundreds of dollars and countless hours on getting to Spain that I could just not imagine going and doing what we felt was best for our family (Brandon getting his masters degree in such a short amount of time). I saw my doctor at 6 weeks where I had an ultrasound and was able to see little babe's heart beating. I still could not believe this was happening.
Weeks passed and things seemed fine, I didn't have much of an appetite or cravings and hardly any vomiting, I thought I was lucky. Not too long after leaving our home and arriving in Ohio to visit family before our move, I started feeling terribly sick, couldn't eat anything for a couple of days. Not sure if this was the flu, or my body hinting to me that all was not well. A few days later I was back to normal. A few weeks passed and I was now at just a few days shy of 15 weeks, when I started spotting. I made some calls to nearby OB offices, all who advised not to come in unless I have heavy bleeding and/or cramps. I did not, and though I was a little reassured, I still felt like something just wasn't right. A few days past and I was still spotting a bit. Now, Liam and I were scheduled to leave for Spain in 2 weeks and my husband in 2 days. Then I started bleeding, and it was bad. My heart sank knowing that I had more than likely just lost our baby. We immediately drove straight to the hospital. There nurses tried to assure me that there was still hope as they searched and searched for my little babe's heartbeat, but I knew in my heart that they wouldn't find it. A doctor came in and performed an ultrasound and informed me that there was no blood going to my baby. I could see my baby on the screen, with arms and legs, only problem was that my baby was not moving. Another doctor came in to confirm that we had lost our baby a few weeks prior and that that my body had just held onto the baby, resulting in a "missed miscarriage." Even though this was the news I had anticipated hearing the entire drive to the hospital and the whole time the nurses couldn't find my baby's heartbeat, hearing it confirmed was terrible. They left the room to give us some time alone, leaving on the screen showing our little babe that had no heartbeat, that was gone. It felt so surreal in that hospital room knowing that the baby I had been carrying for 15 weeks was gone. This baby would not be part of our family. I would never hold this baby or sing to it or cuddle it for hours on end. For the past 4 months we had been about to be a family of 4.. and now it was just gone. They tried to reassure me that "these things happen" and that "I did nothing wrong." They sent me home and I was scheduled to come in the next morning for surgery. 
The next morning, as I laid in the freezing OR, waiting on the surgeon, a nurse brought me a few warm blankets and then came to my side, she didn't say anything either, She looked at me with such care in her eyes and took my hand and grasped it. I couldn't help but begin to cry, a mix of realization and sadness for what was happening and yet the sweet gesture brought me a little comfort. I truly feel like those who work in medicine have to just be meant for that job, and that particular nurse was clearly meant to be a nurse. 
Later in the recovery room, I was informed that I had lost a lot of blood, but they expected me to be ok. A bit later a nurse came and started to fill out my release papers. Turns out I was not ok, for hours they monitored me, trying to stabilize my heart rate and blood pressure. The whole day I was pumped full of IV fluids. After that didn't work, I was given a transfusion. Finally I could go home and hold my little boy. How glad I was that I had him that sad night. Being wheeled out of the hospital empty handed was probably the hardest part. I hadn't even thought about how hard that would be. The last time I had left a hospital (except for the day prior), I was wheeled out holding onto my precious Liam to take him home with us. This time I had nothing. 
Then the next day, as scheduled, Brandon left for Spain. I was left to mourn on my own. Most of those two weeks were spent lying awake at night, having no distraction from the thoughts that plagued my mind. The strongest thoughts were feelings of guilt. I felt guilty that I had not been excited about this precious life, and I felt guilty for not seeking help when I got sick thinking of the possibility that I miscarried due to dehydration. I don't think I will ever not wonder if I could have prevented my miscarriage. I don't think I will ever not wonder what our family would be like now, had we become a family of 4 then. 
Now, I can talk about these things without becoming an emotional mess. When I went through my miscarriage and the feelings and heartache were new, I did not want to talk about it. Not just because of the awkwardness surrounding never even announcing my pregnancy, but also, I hoped that I could just forget it all. I thought if I didn't talk about it and I could just forget it, it would be less painful. The reality was that never talking about it, did more harm than good. I felt alone in my loss. Though my husband obviously lost a baby as well, I still felt like he didn't understand what I was going through. I felt I had no one who knew what it was like to go through a loss like this. And a miscarriage isn't exactly what you bring up in everyday normal pleasant conversation, right? "Hey, how have you been!!?"..-"Oh, you know, just lost my baby that I wasn't excited about at 15 weeks and now I feel like crap.." In my head there would definitely had been awkward cricket sounds following. But as I very slowly began telling a few close friends and family members what happened, the responses I got were sincere, heartfelt reassurances of love and sympathy. And that was what I really could have used in the days and weeks following the loss of our precious baby. And though I don't have all the answers on why this happened, there are lessons I learned on my journey of loss. Human life is precious, and the gift to be able to conceive and carry a tiny, perfect human being within you is not a gift given to every woman. Appreciate it and don't take it for granted. And please, if you suffer the heartbreaking loss of a precious baby, don't rob your loved ones of supporting you by shutting down and not speaking about your loss.

Rachel is a mother to three babies, two here on earth and one angel baby.

15 Ways to Instantly Feel Better About Yourself

The other day, after brushing my teeth and looking in the mirror, I noticed my eyebrows had been slightly {ok ok majorly} neglected. {there are things you just don't get around to thinking about when you have small humans to look after.} The kids were napping (HALLELUJAH!), so I grabbed my tweezers and went to town on my brows. And looking in the mirror afterwards at the final result felt amazing. Right then, tweezing my eyebrows stemmed that entire list of things to do to instantly feel better about yourself, or life in general. So I'm gonna share some with you! 

Instant Pick-me-ups

pluck your eyebrows. it instantly opens your eyes, making your face look brighter, more awake, and less cluttered. try it and tell me you don't feel sexier. I dare you.

brows on fleek yall.

wash your face. if only to get that clean tingly feeling. heyyyy maybe your boyfriend's obvious lie was TRUE! you DO look better without makeup! 

i LOVE this stuff, the green tea leaves you with the slightest tingle, and the exfoliant in it isn't too fine and isn't too gritty

clean your room. I hate the build-up of nerve it takes to actually start cleaning my room. and for the first 5 minutes, I hate cleaning my room. but after those first 5 minutes, I get crazy into it and end up with piles of clothes to give away (PHILANTHROPY!) and new organizational systems for all my books and a new way of arranging the throw pillows on my bed and also other things. getting the clutter out of your room will help you get it out of your mind and soul. I'm pretty sure confucius said something like that.

#preach

do some yoga. it's as easy as you want it to be, it's relaxing, and it is SO GOOD FOR YOU! and the wonderful humans of youtube can guide you through it.

isn't that guy's voice great?

soak up some sun. your body needs sunlight to function! sunshine kicks endorphins into gear and gets you some much needed vitamin D! go outside! or, when it's lame-o winter time, invest in a HappyLight. {which I LOVE.} sit next to it for a 1/2-1 hour twice a day {while relaxing and/or getting stuff done, obviously. I used to bring mine to work!} and you will seriously feel the effects. it drastically reduces fatigue and all around glumness. 

eat some fresh fruit {or veggies}. if I am ever feeling gross or super down on myself, I eat raw foods only, until I can't stand it any longer. you seriously feel a difference when eating fresh raw foods after all that processed stuff we eat all the time. and fruit just tastes so good. I recommend berries, the darker the better. they are super lo-cal and are WAY high in antioxidants.

and a weeency bit of chocolate. especially dark chocolate. a little somethin' sweet delights the tastebuds, but chocolate also helps in the release of endorphins. endorphins make you happy, and happy people just don't kill their husbands. only eat a little! overdoing it will give you that nasty sugar meltdown and/or bloat. ew.

floss your teeth. let's be real, how many of us do it as much as we should?! that's what I thought. so whip out the floss, clean up your gums, and rinse and spit. smile as you watch your bloody drool swirl down the drain (TMI? yes. truth? also yes.), and run your tongue over your teeth. don't you feel like you've accomplished something today?!

 

nair your stache. there. I said it. anyone who is not a toe-head blonde has a mustache. and even they have staches, you just can't see them. why is this so embarrassing to everyone?! we all shave our legs and pits -- we all eliminate facial hair. no difference. it is life and it is beautiful. embrace it. giving yourself a long overdue nair-ing totally lightens up your face and makes it impossible not to smile.

Liz Lemon's got one!

and this pretty lady has one too. she's getting rid of it like a champ.

paint your own nails. I love nail polish. bright nails are my favorite accessory. having wet nails is also an excuse to relax for a half hour {oops. can't! wet nails. sorry!}. so read a book! or better yet, a juicy magazine. OR watch that show you never get to watch. real housewives anyone?

props if your nails actually look like that after you do them yourself...!

go for a walk. {or a run, if you're into that kind of thing}. there's something about being one with nature and spending some solo time that brings all kinds of superpeace to your soul. I've never gone on a walk and come back in a worse mood than when I left.

see how much fun she's having??

drink a tall glass of ice water. staying hydrated keeps you alert, energized, and happy. it reduces under-eye circles, boosts your metabolism, clears up your skin, keeps your organs working properly, and boosts your immune system. among other things. basically, water=magic juice. soooo.....drink some. it makes ya feel better. 

write a thank you note. you are a nice person, and people probably do nice things for you all the time. take a second and write them a thank you note, and send it in the mail, old school style. there is something about sending and receiving letters that nothing else can duplicate.

take a hot shower. washing the muck away can also mean washing the stress away. the steam and smells calm the nerves and relax the muscles. like a great big incubator (-_-) also omigosh don't you love the feeling of pulling fresh clean clothes over a clean nekkid body? {sounded like a creeper line. but i'm dead serious.} and also, smelling good. 

watch this video: you guys. even if you don't believe in yourself today, Shia does. let him speak to you.

More Love

Becoming a mother is the most crazy, unreal, incredibly real thing I've ever done.  When I had Georgia, I kept looking at her and thinking, "are you really mine?? Did Cade and I really make this little human?? How did I ever love before this??"  She would look at me and the world around me would disappear.  She made me a mother.  She paved the way.  Georgia was my first everything when it comes to motherhood.  I didn't even want another baby until she was about nine months old.  That might seem soon, now that I think about it, but whatever.  I had a solid ten months of just she and I (and Cade of course, ;)

When Georgia was about 10 months old, I got pregnant with our second child.  I didn’t know what it was then, but I was pregnant! Georgia was no longer the only child.  Nine months later, we had Lucy Sue.  While laboring during transition, with Lucy, I started to feel guilty for bringing another baby into the world so quickly.  Did we give Georgia enough time to be with us? Would she resent us for bringing home a new baby?  Was it selfish of us to have another one so close? Would I be able to love another baby as much as I loved Georgia? (In my mind at the time, these were all very much valid questions to ask myself).  After having her, those worries disappeared and my heart grew to fit all the love I had for each of these girls. 

Looking back on my days spent with Georgia and how I spend my days with Georgia and Lucy now, I, again, can’t help to feel guilty..  Because I had these cuties so close together, I don’t find the time to have quiet moments with Lucy.  Our mornings aren’t quite as smooth and quiet and slow to start as they were with Georgia.  Time has slipped so much faster through my fingers, and I am scared that I have lost something with Lucy that I have with Georgia.  Maybe that is just how it goes… But I don’t like it.  I never wished for time to slow down with Georgia, because each day was filled with just her! Those “firsts” were easily noticed and time seems to have dilly-dallied just a little more with her.  Now with Lucy, she is about five and a half months old and time has literally been on a sprint! She is doing so much! So is Georgia!! She is TWO! I don’t know how that happened either!  Where did the time go? Did I use it right??

I sit here and think of all the ways I could have, would have, and should have, and I have to stop myself.  I can’t think about that.  I can think about how wonderful each day spent with each of these girls has been and how I can better use my time with them today.  I can think of ways to fill the time of each day with more of them.  More watching them.  More listening to them.  More hugs.  More kisses.  More grins. More giggles.  I can’t spend my time feeling guilty; instead, I can feel grateful for the different experiences and the lessons I’ve learned in motherhood so far.  Georgia will always be my first, she will always have my firsts, but Lucy gets a road that might not be as bumpy and a mother that is more learned.  We can be better today and we can be better tomorrow! We can change the time we spend in future, not the time that has already been spent. Has guilt like this ever trapped you?  Have you found a balance? I would love to hear your story! XOXO britt 

Pillow Talk

Written By: Sally

The other night I was tucking Gunner into bed at the end of a looong day. Zack was out of town and I was feeling overwhelmed all day. Just constantly on edge and quick to snap at Gunner. There was a lot more tears, and a lot more yelling than I would like to admit. I'm not normally a yeller, but I lost my cool on several occasions that day. Gunner played his part as well. Aside from normal two year antics that drive me up the wall, he was missing his dad. He is a daddy's boy through and through and has a hard time when Zack is gone. Suffice to say, it was a gloomy day around our house.

Clearly, he has mastered the pout.

So as I was tucking Gunner into bed, we read a scripture story and I sang him songs as usual. We were snuggled up in his bed and my love for him just began to overflow. I could have squeezed the life out of him. Tears welled up in my eyes because I was looking at this precious little boy who is literally a piece of my soul. All day, in all my anxiety, I hadn't stopped to admire him and remember how fearfully and wonderfully made he is. 

As my love was overflowing, my guilt was getting heavier and heavier. I wasted an entire day being frustrated with him. A whole day! It was a whole day that we will never get back. I could have spent the day playing with him and moving at his pace. We could have made up silly songs and laughed more. But instead I let my stress and poor attitude get the best of me. That's just not fair to Gunner. He deserves better. 

So, I squeezed him really tight. Like so tight he started to gasp. And I kissed those squishy little cheeks and said I'm sorry. I said, "I'm sorry I got mad at you today Gunner. I'm sorry I yelled. I really don't like to yell. It makes me sad when I yell. I'll do better tomorrow. I love you my sweet Gunner" He didn't say anything. He just looked at me and gave me his tightest squeeze. 

We went back to talking about picking pumpkins and his favorite stuffed animals and all the other things on his wonderful, curious mind. When it was time for final good night kisses I hugged him tight again and told him I loved him. Then, he whispered in my ear, "I sorry mommy." I was really taken aback. "For what?" I asked. "For making naughty choice today." 

My heart broke and soared at the same time. I was sad that he was feeling sad, and that I had gotten mad at him. But that apology was completely unsolicited, and unprecedented. He has said sorry before. But never without our prompting. This time, he knew he hadn't been a good listener, and he was genuinely sorry. He knew that he made some choices today that made me sad, and he was genuinely sorry. How grown up of him. I couldn't believe it. I was so humbled. 

When I apologized to him, I just wanted him to know that I was going to do better tomorrow. I was not trying to get an apology out of him. But I think what he saw was that it's okay to admit when we do something wrong. And it makes people feel better when we say we're sorry. My apology helped him to feel better and I think he wanted to make me feel better with his. 

I get so wrapped up in being his mom and trying to be right all the time. But what I really want to teach him is so much more than just to be obedient and to do what I tell him. I want him to learn to make those choices on his own. Admitting that I'm wrong doesn't make him think less of me. It organically teaches him how to handle himself when he's in a similar situation. 

How many other things am I trying to teach him that he just doesn't get because I'm saying them and not doing them? They say the best way to teach is by example. But, that is so much more than imitating the proper behavior for our kids. To truly teach by example, we must be living it. We should always be striving to be the person we want our children follow. 

For me, there is no greater teacher, leader, or example than our Savior Jesus Christ. As we strive to live more like Him, our children will learn from us, how to follow Him. So after all the yelling and meltdowns and moments I'm not proud of, I'm going to consider that day a success because we both learned something really important and we're going to do better tomorrow. 

Pictures by Dianne Shumway