I LIVE IN BETWEEN

Most of my life is spent in a place of too much and not enough.

Too much to do, and not enough time.
Too much stuff, and not enough space.
Too much eaten, and not enough activity.
Too much spent, and not enough saved.
Too much stress, and not enough rest.

You get the picture. You probably live in this picture too. Most of us internet-trawling, Facebook-posting, smart-phone-clutching, Consumers-and-Users do. We don’t want to. We don’t plan to. We read and write and repost all sorts of things to avoid it. But, it’s the curse of modern life.

I suspect the subsistence-farming, factory-working, drought-surviving, war-enduring, HaveNots-and-MakingDoers are living their own form of too much and not enough. A far grimmer version. Perhaps, it’s the curse of human life.

This morning I gamely wrestled six bags, three children, a dented flute, a half-eaten muffin and a small plastic snailery (hastily fashioned out of an old pop bottle for Mrs Gander’s class) out the front door. We were running late. Again. With even the smallest chance of sunshine, ghostly white people like us must sunscreen before leaving the house. I always forget to account for this extra 5 minutes in my mad dash to all our various schools.

Fortunately we have very good friends who give the highschooler a ride everyday. The elementary schoolers were impatiently buckled into the van, the preschooler was crawling between the seats chasing a bug and I was checking one more time to make sure I had a good copy of my paper for my Creative Non-Fiction class. Even Mom goes to school these days.

As we pulled out, we began our not-so-beloved, but totally neccessary for Mom’s sanity, prayer ritual. Everyone pitches in a couple items, out loud, on the way down the street. And I remember that I actually love these little people and that life, and this day, is bigger than the latest version of yes-you-really-have-to-wear-that (shoe/sock/coat/sunscreen). It’s like a reset, as we face down another day. My favourite was the boy’s prayer:

Ah… God,School!!!
Ah-mennnnn.

What more needs to be said, really? We arrived at our first stop, flush with success, just as the first bell rang. Of course the snailery was sitting on the porch by the front door. 

Of course.

Pack it back in, turn around, scoop it up, try again. Even later than ever. Again.

I used to think that this is where life is lived – in the doing: in the tasks accomplished and customers served. The bulk of my life - so  full of too much, so starved by not enough – is not a bad place, not really. I don’t regret it or hate it. I’m not willing to trade it in for another rendition. I’m not looking for a transformation or some fancy new system guarunteed to cure all my woes. Sure, I’ll seek a better balance, but I don’t imagine I’ll ever arrive.

Instead I’m changing my focus. I picked the word “Breathe” as my resolution this year. And it’s a strangely powerful one.

I’m as busy as ever, but that is not how I live. Not anymore. I live in the spaces between too much and not enough.

I live in the slight breeze tickling my face.
I live in the warm press of little bodies beside me at 6 am.
I live in the stretch of my legs on the trampoline during ‘ring-around-the-rosie.’
I live in the laugh shared over a ridiculous inside joke.
I live in the beat of a catchy tune, the blue sky as far as I can see, the smell of rain on the horizon…

I live in these moments that are just right and more than enough. There’s no trick, no equation, no escape needed. Life trickles into the gaps of everyday.It’s a gift. We just have to live it.

Be still and know that I am God.

Breathe.

So here’s me, the crazy person who thought an intensive May/June writing course (cram 13 weeks of work into 8) would be a great fit for our life. Maybe not, but I’m actually feeling a lot LESS stressed than expected because those technicolour moments of life are powerful. Who knew, I just needed to learn to breathe all these years.

CHRISTIE HOOS

So Here's Us

FROM THE HEART

When I had my own classroom last year, I had a poster hanging on the wall just like the one below.  I really wanted my students to think about the power of their words before they came out of their mouth. At the beginning of the year, we squeezed a tube of toothpaste and then tried to put the toothpaste back into the tube as an illustration that you can never take back words once they have been spoken.  We weren't successful 100% of the time, but I heard snippets of conversations from time to time where students would ask or tell each other, "Is that inspiring?" "Was that helpful?"  It made me proud to know that some of my students really took that to heart.

This year, since stepping out of the classroom into a leadership position, I've really thought about the words that come out of my own mouth and the power they have.  I haven't been perfect, not even close.  There have been days where I've said the wrong thing, but I've owned it.  There have been days where the words I spoke were taken out of context or misconstrued.  Only I know the intent behind those conversations.  But, I've really been pondering the way teachers speak.  Last year, I had the amazing opportunity to meet Ron Clark and he made a comment that jumped off of the stage and has stuck with me.  I know I won't get it exactly right, but he spoke about how teachers are the world's worst at tearing each other apart.  He gave several examples that I could really relate to…"Look at her working late.  She's doing it for recognition." or "Dressing up for costumes is just a way to get attention.  There's not time for that."  

I thought back to the many, many days I ate lunch in teachers' lounges, attended professional developments, etc. and heard those very same comments about teachers who are in the trenches in all out warfare for their students.  I thought about the teachers who made the comments and the teachers whom the comments were about.  It broke my heart and continues to break my heart.  Teachers should be bound together by a code, much like the Navy Seals.  They never leave a man behind, and never talk bad about one of the team.  They do everything they can to make sure everyone comes out of a mission successful.  

As teachers, we need to band together and lift each other up every where and in everything that we do. We should be knocking on the doors of teachers in our building and asking if there is any help that is needed and asking for help ourselves.  

We have a greater mission than of ourselves.  Those little guys, and big ones too, who sit in the desks in our classrooms deserve a "team" of professionals that value each other, learn from each other, encourage each other.  That positive energy feeds into our students, who then take it to each other.  If teachers model positivity, just think about what our students would do. 

Being positive or negative is a choice.  One that we must make many times in a single day.  But we have the power to choose it ourselves.  So, if you choose to be positive, pull up a chair beside me at the lunch table and let's talk about how amazing your students are.  If you choose to be the negative nelly - about teachers or students - I'd really prefer that you sit somewhere else.

SHASTA LOOPER

The Teacher's Loop

I CAN'T WRITE THEIR STORY

 

I reached for the steaming hot ducky felt rice bag for the umpteenth time.  “Thank you, son” I weakly whimper to my fourteen year old.

Lying helpless in bed is not the Mom-image I dream of being for my boys. In spite of the storybook family image I try to write for them over the years, I finally resolve, “I can’t write their story.”

While my youngest boy perfected the ability to stitch straight seams in his 8^th grade class, I am certain he never imagined his Mom would be getting so much use from the ducky bag he made.

Up and down the stairs he runs as he takes care of me, commenting how the bag stinks now. Zapped so many times,the rice burns beneath the soft flannel duckies. I place the bag on my gut where bright red burns have created a design the doctor thinks may never go away.

It’s the middle of summer and I have spent weeks in painful misery and long hours in the E.R. I’ve experienced too many blood tests, cat scans and increased doses of ox-codeine than I care to count.

This is not the plan I envisioned for myself or family this summer. The boys and I were going to cook from Alton Brown’s cookbook together. I hoped they would teach me how to lift weights in the garage. I took for granted sitting in my lawn chair cheering on the soccer team, taking videos of their swim meets and watching them improve their stroke.

Instead, I am an absent mom and my husband has taken on the role of Mr. Mom in their summer frolics.

I certainly never planned to listen to the family laughing and splashing in the backyard or conversing around the kitchen table from the misery of my darkened bedroom. I roll over saddened, maybe even ashamed, as I watch my boys walk quietly past my door.

“Please take him out of the room” I whisper to my husband as he shuffles our boy with special needs away from his mom. I can’t bear the thought of him being confused or anxious as I groan and weep in pain.

“Feel… better…. Mommy” he carefully tells me.

This is not the perfect family story I wrote for my children. I don’t want them to have a helpless mom. They shouldn’t have to take care of me at their age. They shouldn’t have to completely care for themselves throughout the day.

I should be vibrant, energetic, interacting with them. I should.

I should be cooking for them and driving them for milkshakes.

I should.

I should.

Wrestling with pain…Wrestling with “should’s”… Wrestling with God…

He stills my heart.

He reminds me this is what I prayed for over the years. I ask the Lord to grow character in my boys, to make of them godly men. I ask Him to orchestrate opportunities for them to rely on Him in a deep and personal way.

This is their opportunity to experience disappointment, even fear and worry — then learn to lean on and listen to their Heavenly Father.  They need to witness the hand of God, to experience their own answers to prayer.

It’s what makes faith real.

On my sick-bed I relinquish to God my rights as Mom. I confess my delusions to control the fine details of my children’s lives. 

Jesus, You be their Master Teacher.

Step into my children’s lives when I cannot and should not.

A sickly Momma is not the image I create in their story. But, God is working with them to create His own story in their lives.

He weaves their joys, disappointments and life experiences for His own good pleasure.

I don’t want to get in Your way, so Lord I am letting go–again–today.

“Be assured, if you walk with Him and look to Him and expect help from Him,  He will never fail you”-George Mueller

Friends, it is almost a year since my surgery and diagnosis of Crohn’s Disease. I have taken time to get my life back in order and enjoy a pain-free summer with the family. Now it’s time to share with you what God keeps trying to teach me at my bedside.

BONNIE CHRISTENSEN

Woman Gone Wise

EXPERIMENTS IN GRATITUDE

One thing that drives me nuts is kids who are ungrateful. You’ve seen them. They stand in the checkout line at the grocery store next to a mother who has a heavily laden buggy – usually filled with items custom tailored for said ungrateful kids – and whine and complain about what they don’t have in life. “But Mom, why can’t I have the chocolate bar??? But Mom. But Mom. Mommmmmm.” It is enough to make me seriously consider the virtues of a one-child policy or mass sterilization. In fact, for years Eric and I called those encounters “birth control” because we left the store so disenchanted with the whole parenting experience that our timeline for beginning a family got bumped back by six months every time we ran into one of those kids.

I suppose I am especially sensitive to the issue because Eric has devoted his life to non-profit work. He has always, for as long as we have been together, poured his soul into helping those less fortunate than the rest of us. I get a blow-by-blow of what happens in his world each and every evening, and this insight serves to drastically lower my tolerance for those who cannot appreciate the wealth they have been given in life.

Unfortunately, all of us fall prey to this insidious culture. Just the other day, after two hours of fun mother/daughter shopping for Easter supplies, Riley pouted in the back seat of the car because she wasn’t able to find exactly what she wanted. Let’s be clear, she didn’t come home empty-handed by any means, but that perfect item had remained elusive. I was seriously ticked off. As I contemplated my response, I ran through every scenario from grabbing her bunny ears off her head and throwing them out the window of the car to throwing all her toys into a trash bag and donating them to The Salvation Army to losing my temper and yelling at her to be grateful for what she has.

Thankfully, I didn’t do any of those things. And the reason why I didn’t was because, just that afternoon, I had watched Shawn Achor speak about real happiness…and real happiness entails cultivating a culture of gratefulness. So, instead of throwing a fit or stripping Riley’s bedroom, I decided that the Frans family is going to do an Experiment in Gratitude. Following on Achor’s suggestions, each night we are each going to share three things for which we are grateful. Instead of griping and complaining about lack of gratitude, we are going to start practicing it…together…because we can all use a dose of real happiness in our lives.

I highly recommend that you watch this video from Achor. Not only will you laugh your bunny tail off, but you might just find the keys to beginning an Experiment in Gratitude for your home as well.

http://www.ted.com/talks/view/lang///id/1344

ERYN-FAYE FRANS, Canada's Passion Coach ®

ErynFaye.com

TEACHER, TEACHER, CAN YOU TEACH ME?

There are plenty of reasons to worry about the kind of teacher your child has. I can never forget that it was my Grade 2 teacher who taught me that grown ups can be mean, really mean.

Three years ago, we traded in our home school lifestyle. It was daunting delegating some of our children’s education to perfect strangers, especially our (then) nonverbal and sometimes challenging youngest. We went a bit overboard researching schools in the area – and got mixed reviews for every single one.

I’m not such a Pollyanna that I don’t realize the frustrated/disappointed/outraged stories are often true, or at least have some element of truth/hurt/miscommunication to them. I’ve had my own scuffle over speech therapy in our school district.

But we have good stories to tell too. And too often those are ignored or downplayed. They aren’t nearly as entertaining as the Bad Teacher tales, after all.

We are very happy with our little country school. The teachers there are the good sort. And we think they can teach us something too.

The Gentle Encourager: The Grade 6 teacher is a quietly enthusiastic, fun-loving and genuinely sweet lady. When I close my eyes, this is the kind of woman I imagine my eldest will be someday. It’s a good daydream.

The Challengers: We’ve seen a sharp increase in homework and level of difficulty in Grade 4. There has been complaining, muttering and foot dragging… so I gave out stern talks: “Christie, you are the Mom. Set a good example and just make it happen.” This teaching team has won us over with their great communication and creative projects. Our dinner table has been awash with interesting facts about whale blubber and pirate ships and the antics of Ramona B Quimby. C has never been so engaged!

The Supporters: We call them Special Education Assistants, and they are the hands and feet of inclusion. This year we had a great team. They consistently go above and beyond and are more friends than staff to us. Mrs. H is always reading and learning and sharing her ideas. The resource teacher and her daughter raised money and joined our run for Down Syndrome. Mrs. A is a kindred spirit, an extension of our own nurturing and parenting. Her whole family has taken B under their wing.

The Advocate: Every morning B runs into the classroom, throws her arms wide and yells, “Smelling!” This is her version of “Ms. Fleming,” and it earns her a hug and an enthusiastic greeting. Kids can tell if you really enjoy and appreciate them, especially B. Which is why she has continued to blossom this year. She has always been loved by her teachers, and in turn by her classmates, which is no coincidence. It’s not because she is all sunshine and gumdrops, but even in her difficult moments her teachers have seen HER beneath it all – especially Smelling.

The biggest gift this year has brought has been Ms. Fleming’s choice of thesis for her Masters degree: Teaching B to Read.

I’m sure it’ll have a long complex academic title, but for us it means that next year B will participate in the reading program (newly developed by the Down Syndrome Research Foundation):
the one we couldn’t afford
daily
one on one
with her favourite teacher.

She asked if we would be okay with that. If we would mind her basing her project on B. If she could spend several days training with DSRF to know how to use it. If she might be able to establish it in our school and district.

Ummm… duh.

Today we will add our Thank You notes and gifts to the pile and pray that somehow they will adequately express our gratitude. We’ve entrusted them with the most precious part of ourselves: our children. This is why the outrage is so fierce when we feel betrayed, and this is why that coffee shop gift card seems so paltry when we feel so amazingly well supported.

So here’s me: school’s out for summer and I’m going to miss the help. What are the chances that we’ll have so many good stories next year?

CHRISTIE HOOS

So Here's Us

10 ACTS OF COMPASSION TO ENCOURAGE YOUR NEIGHBOR

I stood in my heels next to our Lexus as I talked with a woman on the sidewalk.  She sat in her wheelchair as she told me about her recent trials.  Pointing to her crunched up toes, she explained her feet hurt because she had to squeeze them into a pair of old shoes that were a size too small.

My heart remembered, “To whom much is given, much is required”.

I see it more everyday.  People counting their last pennies to pay for their groceries, or taking items out of their cart in order to pay for the minimal amount of food they need.  I see more and more children walking to school who have outgrown their clothing and their coats.

People are stretched financially and stressed out emotionally.  Although we have our own challenges financially and emotionally as a family, we have so much in comparison.  What can I do with my resources: my time, my extra change, for the good of my neighbors?

1. Be aware of someone struggling to pay for their groceries in the grocery line.  Discretely offer to pay for them.
2. Offer to wrap gifts and help write letters at a local home for the elderly.
3. Cook and deliver a meal together to someone recovering from surgery or physical limitations.
4. Adopt a family in need:  buy a meal card or a Target card, and deliver it anonymously.
5. Collect canned foods while Christmas Caroling and deliver it to the local food shelter.
6. Christmas Carol, play musical instruments or create a dance or drama for a nursing home.  Give out lotion, chapsticks or personal artwork.
7. Read for children at a local hospital or library.
8. Whenever you buy a coat or shoes for yourself or children, give away the extra coat or shoes you own.
9. Babysit for a single parent.  Give mom or dad a mental break and invite their child to hang out in your home.
10. Give a special needs family a break and offer to watch their child for a few hours or overnight for a much-needed getaway.

How do you serve your neighbors?  What simple things can you do this week to incorporate a lifestyle of compassion?

BONNIE CHRISTENSEN

Woman Gone Wise

15 BENEFITS OF RAISING COMPASSIONATE KIDS

Brother encourages brother at Special Olympics

In my ministry and family experiences of working with young people, I am convinced those who are encouraged to develop empathy and exercise compassion in their lives benefit richly. Consider the character development that occurs in your children as you provide opportunities for them to show compassion.

• Kids who volunteer learn to look beyond their own needs and desires.
•  Self-pity decreases.  They are more likely to take their eyes off of their own problems and see them in perspective of others who have great need.
• Self-importance decreases.  Their narrow adolescent world grows as they increasingly experience the needs of others.
• They are more likely to embrace the value of treating others as they themselves want to be treated.
• Self-indulgence decreases as they desire to give their resources to others in need.
• Serving others brings a sense of purpose and mission to their existence (Ephesians 2:10)
• Serving others brings personal fulfillment, satisfaction and joy as they are doing what they were created to do (Ephesians 2:10)
• Acts of compassion promote a higher level of self-esteem due to their ability to make a contribution.
• Moral responsibility and character are developed as children consider others in need.
•  Acts of service and compassion develop a child’s ability to accept and communicate effectively with a diverse culture.
• Volunteering to help others creates unique opportunities for children to use their talents and creative abilities for a purpose.
• Serving beside others creates new friendships and builds positive memories with peers.
• Compassionate children influence a generation, a school, and community.
• Serving beside others promotes multi-generational understanding and respect.
• Compassionate experiences in childhood help shape character and life-long patterns for adulthood.

This month I will be posting a series, “A World Beyond ME: Raising Compassionate Kids”.  I hope you will share your own thoughts and experiences as you follow along.

BONNIE CHRISTENSEN
Woman Gone Wise

WHY SHOULD I HAVE TO DO THAT?

My 8 year old son does not come by anything naturally, maybe most kids don’t, I don’t know. My 4 year old comes by things very naturally…I only have the two children to compare so maybe some of you can identify, or have a child similar to my 8 year old. He needs to be shown or coached through everything. Teaching him things is not always easy. I relate to my 8 year old. HE IS ME when I was growing up. I was always so frustrated and felt like my brain didn’t work because I didn’t get some of the concepts that others did (well, that’s another blog). 

I have been struggling over the last year to teach him the value of work and money. My husband and I believe that it is our job to teach our children how working on commission is how the world works. You do the work you get paid. You don’t do the work, you don’t get paid. There is no allowance. We also believe that there are certain responsibilities you have in a family that you do because you are part of the family. 

I struggled to find balance between what he should do as a member of our family for free, and what he could do for money, and it seemed that at every turn there was negotiations going on about “If I do that how much will I earn?” or “I’m not doing that for free, I want a quarter” Then there would be whining and grumbling the entire time.

So I did what the typical house does and made a chore chart. My attempt at a chore chart was defeated when he decided he would only do enough to make the money he wanted then he wouldn’t do any more. 

If I asked him to help me out in picking up he would say “I didn’t make that mess, why should I have to…?” Again, the grumbling.

We were constantly arguing over the “Why should I have to?”

I finally had to sit down and ask myself, What is it exactly that I want him to learn? What is the end result? When he is an adult, what do I want this to look like? Do I want him turning to his boss and saying “I didn’t make that mess, I’m not cleaning it up?” Do I want him on the job doing the bare minimum to get his paycheck? Do I want him to grumble and complain about what he has to do? I could name 5 people off the top of my head that do this exact thing in the adult world…The answer is NO! Nothing I was saying or doing was helping this attitude problem.

I was thinking about all of this as I was listening to my favorite afternoon radio show, and the host said something that hit me. He said (talking to a caller), “If you worked for me, you’d be fired by now.” And the light bulb turned on. If my husband went to work with the attitudes my son does he’d be fired by now. 

I realized that he was failing at what I was attempting to teach him because I hadn’t started with the basics…a work ethic. My son, needed to be taught how to have a good work ethic. He completely respects and loves his father, so why not use him as an example?

Here is what I devised:

#1) THE SALARY – You are only allowed to make $2 a day (in the summer), no more. School year rates will be different.

#2) THE WORK – You will do what I ask, when I ask, no matter what.

• This is not a chore chart. I assess every day what household things need to be done and he is to work for me until I say he is done with no negotiation on how much he will make for each thing he does…he just keeps working until the work is done.

#3) THE ATTITUDE - If I hear grumbling of any kind…YOU’RE FIRED, and you don’t get paid that day…we try again the next day.

#4) THE BONUS – If you see things that need to be done and do them without being asked you have potential to earn a bonus at the end of the month. 

I sat him down and explained to him that:

• Daddy goes to work everyday, and he has a salary. Dad only gets to make so much every day. No matter what he does in that work day it’s the same.
• Daddy does what he’s asked when he’s asked, or has it done by the deadline given. 
• Daddy cannot go to work and grumble about what he is asked to do, or he will be fired. 
• Daddy does his best to see what needs to be done before he is asked so that his company knows he is a good employee and worth keeping around (even in the tough times). Sometimes, because of that, Daddy gets a bonus from his company to show appreciation for what he has done above and beyond what he was asked to do.

We made an agreement that the first day would be a trial run and I would just point out what attitudes would get him fired (because he really didn’t know). He was fired 4 times that day and each time he made a mental note and didn’t do it again.

In the days that followed it got easier and easier and he became happy to do whatever I asked. I didn’t hear “Why do I have to do that” or “How much for this job”. He was happy to get his money and I was happy to give it to him. He still hasn’t quite caught on to the bonus system. Like I said, he doesn’t come by things naturally, so he doesn’t really see that there is anything to be done outside of what he is told. I’ll help him through that in the next couple of weeks. 

This system works for my 8 year old. I don’t expect that it would work for every child, in fact, it doesn’t work at all for my 4 year old. He gets overwhelmed by the “you’re fired” maybe its just his age, maybe its him and his style. 

I’ve learned over the years that sometimes we as parents need to give up what we think of as the “right way” of doing things and try to find what works best for the individual child.  We all learn different. I am very lucky that my son is exactly how I was when I was a child, so I can relate to him. I know what it’s like to not see that anything else needs to be done. (Those socks on the floor are perfectly fine where they are…they’ve been there for 3 days isn’t that where they belong now?) I literally had to learn everything. 

Don’t hear me say that I’m not guilty of nagging my children…I so am! Asking God for help to break that cycle and to bring ideas to me that will help me and my children is where the glory goes for any success I have had. 

Now to work through the kinks of the “because you are part of this family” system…

We would love to hear your ideas of how to teach kids a good work ethic. If you try out Adrian's idea, then please let us know how it works for your family. Lastly, if you have any tips on teaching "because you are part of this family", please do share!

ADRIAN KASHPORENKO