Emotional Bank Accounts

I finally read "Seven Habits of Highly Effective People" by Stephen Covey. (https://www.stephencovey.com/7habits/7habits.php I know.  I'm like 15 years behind the times here.  I learned a lot of great stuff in studying this book, but one of the ones I really like using in parenting is the concept of emotional bank accounts.

The idea I use in parenting is that we have an emotional bank account with each of our children.  We make deposits into and withdrawals from this account.  Each positive or good thing we do is a deposit.  Each negative thing is a withdrawal.  For some of my children, even a little negative item ("You need to clean your room") can be a large withdrawal.  I need to make sure I have made enough deposits into the account ("Thanks for being so good about always putting your backpack away"), so that there is a positive balance in the account.

Very accounting-ish, but what can I say.  It works for me to remember this and make sure I'm making more deposits.  There will be times when withdrawals have to be made and I don't want to overdraw my account and have it go negative. The fees can be quite hefty when that happens.

Cheerleader/Coach Parenting

I had one of those "out of body" experiences the other day.  And no, it had nothing to do with dying and seeing a bright light.  I saw myself being "that" mom.  The mom running up and down the sidelines at a sporting event, completely oblivious to everyone else.

My children have never played organized sports before.  My 8 year old, though, decided this year that she wanted to sign up for the Orem Track Club.  Random.  They each get to choose one activity each year, and that's what she chose. (After finding out the archery class was filled up).

We went to her first track meet, not really having any idea what to expect.  She is not a fast runner, so she came in last in most of her events, but she still finished with a smile each time.  Isn't that part of the reason we do these things, to enjoy ourselves, not just to win?

Anyway, we had some discussions about maybe trying some of the longer distances, even though they were for the older kids.  She does not come from a family history of sprinters. :) We decided the 800m (about 1/2 mile) might be better for her.  So, we mapped out how far that was around our neighborhood so she could practice.  She ran the first time in 6min 8 sec. (For perspective, an Olympic time is just under 2min).  The next week she ran it in 5min 33 sec.  She was so excited that she got faster. Her comment was, "I guess track really does help!"

Race day came and it was time for the 800m. It was near the end of the meet, and was only supposed to be for ages 11 and up, so we had talked about how because it was older kids and boys and girls combined, some of the kids might be really far ahead of her. She didn't care.  She still wanted to do it.

The race started, and she was, as expected, at the end by quite a bit after the first lap.  As she neared the last corner for the race, I ran down to meet her and cheer her on.  For the last straightaway, I found myself cheering for her ("Go, Catherine, Go!"), encouraging her ("You're almost there, you can do it!"), coaching her ("This is where you sprint!"), to help her make it to the finish line. I think I was almost as excited as her when she crossed the finish line.  She was elated to hear them say her time was 4min 48 sec.  Even though she was probably almost a minute behind most of the other kids, she had gotten even faster. She had worked hard and accomplished something.

I know I looked silly running alongside the bleachers and track yelling for her, but I didn't care.  I was there to be her #1 cheerleader.  It even caused some of the other parents to cheer for her (which happens with the last kid in a race a lot of times). I thought "Wow. I'm that mom being loud and almost obnoxious." But, isn't that kind of my job? Isn't it my job as a mom, not just at a track meet but in life, to run alongside my child cheering and coaching her? Not running the race for her-I can't do that-but encouraging and helping?

I also thought about how God treats us.  Isn't he our biggest cheerleader/coach? Doesn't he run alongside us cheering for us and giving us help/hints on how to succeed? I imagine the joy he must feel as he sees us work hard at something and succeed on our own.  I'd like to be "that" parent.

What kind of husband does that?

My husband is with another woman right now.  Actually, he left work early today to spend time with her and is spending several days at her place.  He even cooked dinner for her tonight.  Actually, I'm quite pleased with this fact.  But, what kind of husband and father does that? He left the state and left me with 5 kids to take care of the week before Christmas.  I'm pretty sure he bought some things for her as well. Again, what kind of husband does that?

I'm thinking he's not going to be doing much sleeping tonight.  Of course, that may have something to do with the new baby in the other room.  And his willingness to get up in the middle of the night and help feed the baby if needed.  And change poopy diapers. And swaddle and rock a baby.  What kind of husband does that? For a child that is not his?

He's visiting his sister right now and helping out with her new baby.  It made more sense for him to be there as there are 5 kids here that need taking care of, and his work is flexible enough that he can work away from the office.  His sisters and mom and dad have been taking turns helping out, and he's taking his turn.  I believe his brother is taking a turn in a few weeks.  Again, what kind of husband does that? Just when I think I couldn't love him more, he does something like this to remind me what a good deal I got in marrying such a good man.

Remember when...

Remember when...

You thought it was difficult to take your one child in a car seat to the grocery store
You could sit and quietly read as you constantly fed your first baby
Your child's pants didn't yet have holes in the knees
The nurses and doctors in the delivery room didn't quite respect your opinions
You worried when your baby got a runny nose
You made sure to keep the entire house quiet when the baby was taking a nap
You could fit other people in your car with your family
Your child watched Baby Einstein videos instead of Superhero Squad
You took 10 minute videos of your child breathing/smiling/giggling
You didn't have a routine
You could stay home all day when your child was sick
You wondered who really bought applesauce or bread or milk in bulk
You made sure your child's hands and face were always clean
When a toy/bottle/pacifier dropped on the ground, you took it home and sterilized it
Your crib didn't have teeth marks on the railings
Your stroller/high chair/exersaucer didn't have any stains/spills on it
You could own a white couch
You could sleep in if the baby had a rough night
Your house was quiet at times
You thought your sister's children were loud
You didn't understand the magical quiet of library day
You had time to iron and owned clothes that needed ironing
You could follow the advice of napping when your baby napped
People didn't even really notice when you walked into a store
You had time to completely fill out a baby book and document everything
You had a cute scrapbook for your baby instead of unprinted pictures on the computer

Remember when you didn't understand that the more children you have, the crazier life gets, but the more love that fills your heart and your house?

Repetitive phrases

There are certain repetitive phrases from my childhood that I still hear in my head. To this day, if I'm running around in my socks, I'll hear in my head "Either put your shoes on, or take your socks off". When my children ask "What's for dinner?" I respond as my mom did by saying "Pickled pigs feet and sauerkraut." There are other phrases I repeat to my children, that I wonder if 40 years down the road, they'll still hear in their heads. Phrases like the following:

"Shoes and coats!" "Hair and teeth!" "Wipe, flush, wash your hands."

Or these:

To my 7 year old: "Coat, shoes, backpack away." "Feet down." "Stop shoveling your food."

To my 5 year old: "Sit on your bum. No perching." "Don't throw a fit. Just ask for help."

To my 4 year old: "Just be patient." "Do you have any underwear on?" [Really. I say this one quite a lot.]

To my 2 year old: "Don't throw [insert an object here]." "Where are your pants?"

To my baby: "Read a book, sing a song, take a nap." "Double duty diaper duty!" [This is when I'm changing two kids at once. Which happens frequently."

Most importantly, though, I hope that 40 years down the road they still hear in their heads "I love you!"

Thanks to mothers

"When I grow up, I want to be a mother, and have a family. 1 little, 2 little, 3 little babies of my own..."  When I was a little girl, this song by Janeen Brady was one of my favorite songs.  If you asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I would tell you I wanted to be a mom.  I had other things I would say I wanted to be, but always a mom.  Even in high school, I remember having a conversation with friends asking what we wanted to study in college and be "when we grew up".  I told them I wanted to be a mom.  They kept saying, "But what do you really want to be?" My answer was "a mom".  I still planned on getting a Masters degree in Accounting and probably working as a CPA, but I really wanted to be a mom. 

Time went on, I graduated with my Masters in Accounting and started working as a CPA.  By the time I was 32 or 33 and still single, I started thinking maybe I wasn't ever going to get married and have children of my own.  I remember hearing and reading talks, like this one from Sheri Dew, that helped me realize that I can still be a mother figure to others.  I was also blessed to have a wonderful Great Aunt, Aunt Gladys, who never married or had children of her own but truly is the greatest Aunt ever to all her nieces, nephews, great-nieces, and great-nephews.  I thought, "If I can't be a mother, than I can be the world's greatest aunt like Aunt Gladys".  I still had that great desire to be a mom, but figured maybe it wasn't going to happen for me.

Then I met my husband.  I fell in love with him almost immediately, we were married 6 months after we met, I was pregnant a year after we met, and less than two years after we met we had our first child.  I was a mom.  And it was hard. And wonderful.  I remember thinking, "I'm not really young anymore, maybe this is it.  One child. I have my chance to be a mom and I'm grateful for it."  Well, here I am 7 years later and the mom of 5 children.  I'm a mom.  And sometimes I'm still a little amazed by it.  I'm grateful for the chance I have to be a mom and all it teaches me.  I don't know why God chose to give me this responsibility and opportunity, but I'm thankful for it.  I have plenty of friends who have not had the opportunity to become mothers yet who I know would do an amazing job being moms.  Maybe that gives me a little more sense of the responsibility and a little more gratitude for the opportunity. 

For whatever reason, I'm now a mom.  I love it.  My children at times are loud, obnoxious and drive me crazy.  Or other times, like today at church when my 5 year old wants to climb on my lap and sing the hymns with me as I point to each word, or as my 7 year old gives me a tote she decorated herself to give to me for Mother's Day, I'm overwhelmed with the love I feel for my children.  I think of the words by Robert Louis Stevenson "Thanks to our Father, we will bring. For he gives us ev'rything."

Thanks to a loving God who has given me the opportunity and responsibility to be a mother.
Thanks to my husband who helps me be the best mom I can be and without whom I would not be a mother.
Thanks to my own mother and her amazing example of selfless service and how to be a mother.
Thanks to my sisters and their examples of motherhood shared with me even before I became a mother, and for letting me "mother" their children before I had my own children.
Thanks to my sisters-in-law for mothering children with my brothers.
Thanks to my friends at church and in my neighborhood who help to be mothers to my children and set such great examples to me.
Thanks to my friends who are not yet mothers and yet care for my children as they would their own.
Thanks to my children for allowing me to be their mother and for learning with me as we go.

To finish in the words of the song "When I grow up, if I can be a mother, how happy I will be. 4 little 5 little 6 little blessings of my own."

Watching my boys sleep

I love watching my boys sleep. I don't know what it is, and I don't know why it's different than watching my girls sleep.  Maybe it's just the fact that my girls are in a bunk bed and curled up under big blankets, so I can't see them well. But I love checking in on my boys at lights out or before I go to sleep.  It's complete peace and silence and sweetness. It makes me happy.

You're my best friend

"You're my best friend, Mom."  "You're my best friend in the whole world, Dad."  Aren't these words you love to hear from one of your children.  Granted, it's from a 2 year old and sometimes her stuffed puppy is her "best friend ever". But still, it warms your heart to hear it.  Maybe I can remind her of this when she's a teenager and Mom and Dad don't seem like her best friends.  Even better, perhaps I can record it and play it in a repeating loop while she's sleeping after she reaches those teenage years.  I'll take it while I can.