Food=Love

It wasn't very long ago in our society that we learned that Food = Love. You go to grandma's house and she welcomes you with a spread that rivals Thanksgiving. Even walking up to the door the smell of baked ham and cherry pie settles into your memories to be reawakened at your next visit. You pull up your chair and begin to pile food onto your plate. Even when your plate is full, you realize there's still food on the table you haven't tried yet. You have to clean your plate just so you can refill it with new goodies. It is a great time, the whole family chats, laughs, and catches up on family news (and gossip). You finish your meal and collapse in the family room around the TV to digest your feast. It's heaven.

Wow, the love and care that was put into planning, shopping, preparing, cooking, serving, and clean up is unbelievable: Grandma's time and effort brought to life through her famous meals.

I'm afraid when I have grandkids they will not be graced with this same greeting. I HATE to cook. I HATE grocery shopping. I HATE spending time in the kitchen while everyone else is visiting. I HATE just finishing the cooking to turn around and clean the mound of dishes left over from the voracious mob. It is NOT my thing.

My kids don't get beautiful home cooked meals. In fact, I have begun putting each child in charge of one night of cooking each week. It's so great to pass that load on. At my house Food does not = Love. 

My grandkids will probably get a Papa Murphy's pizza while we play card games at the kitchen table. Or maybe a ham sandwich that we eat at the top of a mountain path while we count the bird calls, because we can never actually see the birds, just hear them. They will be welcomed into my home with the fresh smell of paint and playdough sitting ready for the day's activities. 

I'm forever grateful for those who enjoy cooking, who enjoy sharing their love through their creative foods. But my memories are different. I will treasure the memories of time shared and adventures taken together. To me Time = Love.

I Don't Want My Kids to Be Successful

Have you seen the adorable 12-year-old on "America's Got Talent" singing with the ukulele?

She is quite talented. During the backstage interviews, her mom mentioned something that made me cringe. She said that she wanted her daughter to be successful at everything she tried. I understand what she was saying, it is heartbreaking to watch your kids fail, but right away I thought it was stupid to wish for something that you know, in reality, will never happen. But then I began to think about it. I really DON'T want my kids to succeed at everything they try.

Failure teaches:

1) Things don't always end up the way you plan. It's not the end of the world. Change your plan and go again.

2) Look for what you did wrong. What can you learn from this failure? What will you do differently next time?

3) You learn how tough you really are. If things are always good or easy, you can't grow, you won't be challenged. Hard times teach you how strong you can be.

4) There are good people and not so good people around you. Failure turns a light onto the people in your life. Will they support you? Will they enable you? Will they leave? Which of these people do you truly want in your life?

5) It's not scary to try new things. Everyone fails sometimes. If you don't try, you will never succeed. Just try!

I want my kids to try! I want my kids to fail. Then they can be successful.

I Don't Want My Husband's Help at Home

There is a commercial from India going around the internet: 

I like the theme of the commercial, and I realize it is written for an audience in India, not America, but it is still something we all talk about as wives and mothers. We are constantly looking for our husbands to "help" around the house. It would make us so happy, right?

That word is what bugs me. Do I "help" around the house? No, I work, I organize, I decide, I lead, I delegate. (And, yes, I work 30 hours a week besides my responsibilities at home.)

Does a man show up at work to "help out?" I don't think so, he goes to work to take pride in his job, to put his best foot forward, to make sure nothing falls through the cracks. Yet, he walks in the door of his own home and retreats to a helper.

I don't want a helper. I want a partner who puts his whole heart and soul into making our home and family a success. He doesn't need to have all the answers (I don't either). He doesn't need to work non-stop (I don't either). He doesn't need to be in charge of everything all the time, but taking some of the responsibility for the kind of home we create would be fantastic.

Don't be a Helper, Be a Partner! 

Let Me Push You

When I was at roller derby practice on Saturday, we learned a move where you use a teammate as an obstacle to stop the opposing team's scoring player. If you see the player coming your way, but she is too far away for you to stop her, you can push a teammate into her path, hopefully pushing her off of the track. As we learned this move, our coach mentioned that she was told, as a new player, that you have to allow yourself to be pushed. "Let me push you!" she was told. 

If you resist your teammate's push, you will not be able to stop the opposing player, and you might even fall and get injured. By giving into the push,

you can accomplish your goals and keep yourself safe.

There are many times in my life when I have had to give into a push. Sometimes those pushes are scary and we don't see them coming. Sometimes we see them coming from a long ways away, but we resist the change and fight against it. 

But I have learned that if I trust the one pushing me, I will allow the force to carry me into a better place. The push will change my course and allow me to accomplish things I never thought were possible. 

When you feel a push coming your way, don't resist. "Let Me Push You!"

Letting Your Teen "Cry It Out"

I don't have a baby anymore, but I recently noticed the "Cry It Out" method of getting your baby to sleep is under attack, again. With my first baby, almost 21 years ago, the method was then getting thrown around. 


My oldest daughter refused to sleep, she just couldn't stand missing what was going on around her. By the time she was 9 months old, I was at the end of my rope. My husband was in the Navy and out to sea all the time, it fell to me to make the decisions and to figure out a way for the both of us to get some sleep. I tried everything and eventually settled on the "Cry it Out" method. The first night I put her to bed, and she cried for 45 minutes before she feel asleep. Listening to her cry was pure torture. I only made it because of a well-timed phone call from my husband. She only cried for 10 minutes the next night and after that she would go right to sleep. (I don't think this is typical results, it was pretty smooth for me.) However, it never really felt right. By the time my third child came along, I was prepared with many more tools in my "sleeping" toolbox. (Check out http://sleeplady.com/ she saved my sanity and taught me so much about a child's sleep patterns.) I felt more confident and also learned that each child is different. There isn't one "correct" answer. 

There is one thing scarier than being a new mom, it's having a house full of teenagers. I'm still worried about when to leave my child all alone to "Cry it Out" and when to hover nearby to save him from himself. I still gather all the information I can from any source, hoping to make the "right" decision. I guess it's more appropriate to allow a 16-year-old to "Cry it Out," leaving him alone to make his own mistakes, but it's not easy. Maybe by the time my third teen is 16 I'll have it figured out. If you ever start a teenlady.com website, please let me know! My toolbox is running low.