Archive for kids

A cause I care about…

I was so excited when Holley invited us to write about our favorite non-profit today.

If you’ve been here for a while, you know how I first got involved with the issue of child trafficking. And you also know how helping at the non-profit Courage Worldwide has changed my life.

The more I use my passion and talents to help these kids, the more I know I’m living my life’s purpose. It’s an incredible thing when you are able to pursue your dreams and use your gifts to help others at the same time.

It changes lives, including your own.

The issue of trafficking has rocked my world and touched my everyday experiences. When you become aware of the fact that approximately 4.5 million people around the world are being trafficked for sex and 98% of them are women and children (2012 California Human Trafficking Report), it changes you.

And then when you learn that, in the United States alone, approximately 100,000 to 300,000 domestic children are being trafficked,

and you also learn that number isn’t even close to the real statistics because this is such a hidden crime,

you are stunned.

And then… you learn that kids in your own city and neighborhood are being trafficked,

right now,

and you can’t not get involved.

At least that’s what happened for me.

And here I am, a few years after joining the fight against trafficking with my eyes wide open to the reality that so many children face.

And with my heart on fire to help these kids.

If you feel the same way and want to get involved or learn more, visit the amazing non-profit Courage Worldwide’s website. There are many ways you can help, whether you’re a parent, student, business, church, school… whatever.

I know the issue of child trafficking is difficult, and even paralyzing at times, but you can make a difference.  Whether you want to learn more and help spread the word, do something in your community to raise funds, make a donation, or volunteer… there really is an opportunity for everyone to help.

I believe in a world where children will not be trafficked. Will you believe with me?

Won’t you stop by Holley’s place, join us, and link up today? We’re sharing a whole list of amazing non-profits!

And be sure to check out her book You Were Made for a God-Sized Dream: Opening the Door to All God Has For You (it is SO good!) and open your own door to the possibilities ahead!

 

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A (healthy) burger recipe that your kids will love

Well BBQ weather is officially upon us (early) in California! If you can believe it, it’s going to be 81 degrees today!

So in honor of the amazing weather, I thought I’d post one of my favorite (and easy) BBQ recipes:

Actually, it’s Sam’s recipe, but he shared it with me. He and his wife Michelle are our neighbors, friends, and they’re great cooks too. (He makes that awesome Greek soup I told you about a while ago).

So without further delay: everyone, this is Sam and his BBQ…

And here’s his great recipe:

Sam’s (Healthy) Burgers That Your Kids Will Love

Let’s just start off and say: I love how his burgers include zucchini!

(Mike and I made these burgers for the kids a few times and they didn’t know there were vegetables in them until after we told them. It was great!…)

Ingredients:
-2 lbs lean ground meat (either sirloin or white turkey)
-2 whole fresh zucchini (that you will grate with your cheese grater)
-1 yellow onion, diced
-2 to 3 garlic cloves, diced
-1 pkg dried Lipton onion soup mix
-1 to 1.5 cups grated cheese Mix ingredients well and make patties.

Sam makes large patties for the adults and kid-sized ones for the kids. Place a sheet of heavy duty aluminum foil on BBQ and spray with cooking spray. Cook on high for about 5 min then flip for another 5. With this foil technique you will avoid the burgers breaking apart as well as flare-ups on the grill. Yet, you still end up with all that BBQ flavor.

The last important step: place burgers on a platter and cover with foil. This ensures they are, “extra juicy and flavorful.”

According to Sam, your kids will love these burgers and your neighbors (that would be me) will smell the BBQ goodness all the way from the end of the court! Both true. :)

Have fun if you are enjoying this amazing weather too, and get those BBQs out! 

Eating out with kids: restaurant behavior

cookToday, for Mom-Monday, I’m sharing a helpful article from my writing friend and parenting author Elizabeth Pantley. Any mom knows that taking your little ones to a restaurant can be a challenge sometimes. Here are some useful tips from Elizabeth that can help!…

Eating out with kids: restaurant behavior:

Children can be both excited and bored when at a restaurant. They can find it difficult to sit in one place for the length of time necessary to order, wait, eat, and pay for the meal. This problem is one that improves with age, development and practice. With a good game plan, you can help your children learn how to behave appropriately in a restaurant so that you can all enjoy the experience.

What to do

Pick the right restaurant.
Choose a restaurant based on its level of child-friendliness. What’s important? The availability of a children’s menu that includes food your kids will actually eat. The absence of a long wait for a table. Booster seats or high chairs. Private booths or eating nooks as opposed to one large open room. And a noisier, family-friendly atmosphere.

Teach restaurant manners at home.

If you are casual about mealtime manners at home, don’t expect your children to miraculously develop table manners because you happen to be sitting in a restaurant. Practice good manners at home for every meal, and your children will be prepared when you eat out.

Have longer sit-down meals at home.
Typically, at home we call our children to the table when all the food is ready, and then excuse them as soon as they are finished eating. If you want to practice for restaurant visits it’s a good idea to have them come to the table a few minutes earlier. Then sit and chat for a bit after you are finished with the meal. Make it fun by telling stories or jokes or talking about upcoming plans. Not only will this be great practice for eating out, it’s a wonderful ritual to introduce into your home.

Dine out at your regular meal time.
When possible, stick close to your routine. Plan to dine at a reasonable time, before the kids become famished and tired. If you must go out later than your usual time, then provide your children with a snack at the normal time, and allow them to have a smaller meal at the restaurant, or to eat half the meal and bring the rest home.

Review your restaurant rules before you go.
Be very specific and leave no stone unturned. A sample list of “restaurant rules” might be: Sit in your seat. Use a quiet inside voice. Use your silverware, not your fingers. Have nice conversation, no bickering. If you don’t like something, keep your comments to yourself and fill up on something else. If you have to use the restroom, ask me privately and I’ll take you.

Ask for an immediate appetizer.
Many restaurants automatically bring bread or chips to the table as soon as you are seated. If this isn’t the case, ask for something to be brought out for the kids.

Prevent boredom.
Bring along a few simple toys, like a deck of cards, plastic animals, or small quiet toys that can keep the kids occupied while they wait.

Mother-speak:
“We ask for to-go boxes and the check at the same time we order our food. This way, if we have to leave because of a tired or whiny child, we can make a fast get away.” -Reagan, mother to Hailey, age 2

What not to do

Don’t imagine that eating out with kids is the same as dining without them.
When you take children to a restaurant the focus is not the cuisine or the atmosphere. It’s all about controlling the excitement and boredom, teaching your children formal manners, and having quality family time.

Don’t stay too long after eating.
Keep your post-meal conversation short. The longer you stay, the more likely your children will run out of patience and act up.

Don’t make them eat what they don’t like.
Stick with familiar foods when possible. If the grilled cheese sandwich your child ordered turns out to be Swiss cheese on sourdough allow your child to eat the French fries and pack up the sandwich. A restaurant is not the place to battle over new and unfamiliar foods.

Don’t stay if you’re not having fun.
If a child’s behavior gets out of hand, take her to the restroom or out to the car for a time out so that she can calm down. If she continues to misbehave, don’t be afraid to ask for doggie bags and leave the restaurant. But don’t give up. Review your expectations and try again.

Excerpted with permission by Elizabeth Pantley and McGraw-Hill Publishing, The No-Cry Discipline Solution.

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If we treat our family like a treasure…

They will become a treasure.

What I wrote on Mike’s mirror.

 

What I wrote on my kids’ bathroom mirror.

Do I love you because you’re beautiful,
Or are you beautiful because I love you?
~Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II, Cinderella

 

Thank you, Rick Stedman for the inspiration to love my family in this way!

Click to tweet!

*post previously published

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A Cricket or Two. Or Thirty.

It’s been a really busy week so I’m putting up a post from the archives, for a laugh (or a few shivers) – however frogs and crickets strike you. I cracked up remembering this day, and I’m so glad my kids are past the stage of wanting a new pet every week! Enjoy! :) …

You’d think the mice were enough.

But somehow our kids came home from grandma and grandpa’s house with frogs.

It’s my fault, actually.

I said they could.

However, I distinctly remember saying they could bring two.

They brought six.

I could’ve intervened, I know. But when I saw how tiny the frogs were, I figured, two or six–what’s the difference? They’re actually pretty cute.

Besides, it’s not the frogs that are the problem.

It’s the crickets.

A couple of days ago, Mike woke me up with a gentle shake and a…

“Gen, I’m sorry, but I have a meeting I can’t be late for and I just noticed there are crickets all over the house.”

Crickets?

Not exactly the sweet cup of coffee he brings upstairs most mornings. It took me a second to understand what he was saying.

See, we’d bought this thing for the frogs called the Bug Box.

It’s a whole little cricket ecosystem, all in one box. Tasty, plump morsels that stay fresh, too. And when it’s time to feed the frogs, you just open the little trap door on the side of the box, shake a cricket out, then close the door. Or at least that’s what I did.

I even taped over it for good measure.

Apparently, crickets eat tape.

And after they escaped through the hole, they proceeded to gallivant around our kitchen. And our living room. And our dining room.

The picture doesn’t do the scene justice. This just happens to be the only cricket that would stop hopping long enough for me to get a shot.

I don’t know how many crickets come inside those Bug Boxes, but let me just say there was a great turnout at the cricket party at our house that morning.

The nice, little 6 a.m. cricket party.

There I was, on my hands and knees (without coffee, I might add), chasing crickets around with a paper towel and tossing them into the frog cage. Except for the crickets that were a little too fast or a little too big.

Those I might’ve pinched a little too hard.

At least the frogs were happy, though.

Even if I wasn’t.

Until I had my coffee.

Then I felt better.

Mostly. Because, still, all that day and the next, we found crickets around the house. Running along the baseboards, lurking in the corners, hopping across the carpet.

And, call me weird, but that gave me the willies more than finding my daughter’s mouse in the laundry basket.

Way more. :)

Finding the beautiful…

gift1

Mike’s grandma Nana Mae was someone who never lost sight of the beauty around her. Her personality matched her bright red hair and there wasn’t a time you were with her that she didn’t compliment you or tell you how pretty something was.

I’ll never forget the time Mike and I drove her to Los Angeles for Christmas.

We were at a gas station along our drive on I-5 when Nana pointed her finger out the window and suddenly said, “Beautiful.

I looked to see what she was talking about…

but all I saw was a green garbage truck pulled over near the gas station.

“That’s a beautiful green,” she said, shaking her head. She was looking right at the truck.

I smiled.

She was talking about a garbage truck, but, still, she saw the beauty in it.

As moms, we can choose whether or not we see the beauty too. We can look for the beautiful right in the middle of what sometimes feels like the garbage of our days—the messes all over the house, the kids’ arguing, the crazy running around.

And we play a huge role in whether or not we set a “beautiful” tone for our families.

Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us or we find it not.  ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Are you carrying the beauty, moms?

Or are you seeing the garbage truck (like I did)  instead of its rich, green color?

Are you catching the memories that are being made right in front of you or are you losing your patience and longing for just-one-minute-alone?

Are you savoring today or are you wanting time to speed up so your kids grow into to the next phase (when hopefully, things will be easier)?

Are you stopping and loving and soaking in these moments of being a mom to a newborn, a six month old, a two year old, or even a teen?

It’s sometimes hard to do (believe me, I know), but that’s where the beauty is – in those intentional moments of soaking it in,

in those choices to appreciate and marvel at all that comes with being a mom.

But when we do that, we find it.

We find the beautiful.

Never lose an opportunity of seeing anything that is beautiful; for beauty is God’s handwriting – a wayside sacrament.  Welcome it in every fair face, in every fair sky, in every fair flower, and thank God for it as a cup of blessing.  ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Wishing you many beautiful moments today, moms!

(click on image for free printable)

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Braiding her hair (but really, it’s more than that)…

She’s twelve now and she stands almost eye to eye with me.

With each day, she’s becoming more independent, and more sure of herself.

She likes reading and painting,

swimming and fashion.

She doesn’t like spiders or scary movies

or going to bed early.

It seems like moments have been speeding into days and weeks lately, each one passing more quickly than I want it to.

And with each tick of the clock, I feel it: she’s growing up, this pre-teen of mine.

Just a couple weeks ago, she volunteered (on her own) to be a special needs buddy at a camp at one of our local churches. She loved it so much, she volunteered at our church to do the same thing this week. It was beautiful to see her nurture and care for the younger kids that she helped—a first grader and a four-year-old.

It wasn’t long ago she was that age.

(At least that’s how it seems to me.)

But even though she’s growing up,

almost every night she comes and finds me,

and sits down next to me, handing me her brush and two hair bands.

“Can you braid my hair?” she asks. (She likes it wavy the next day.)

I brush her hair and part it down the middle. As I start my own version of a French braid (because I’ve never been able to do a good one), we talk…

She tells me how much fun she had at the water park last week,

and how she hopes she’ll get into the broadcasting class at her school this year.

She tells me she wants to call her friend Katherine when she gets back from vacation so she can have her over to swim.

I nod and listen,

and smile,

loving the details she’s sharing,

loving the fact that she still tells me so much about her feelings and her life,

and hoping that doesn’t change,

at least not too quickly.

“Braid it neatly,” she says, running her hands over her head to check how I’m doing. I laugh inside, remembering how I used to tell my mom the same thing when she braided my hair.

I finish one side and reach for the hair band.

And I smile again.

Because they aren’t matching; one is blue and one is pink…

it’s so her: artsy, whimsical, fun.

I look at her fingernails as I twist the hair band around the end of her braid. Four of her fingers on each hand are painted green, and one—her ring finger—is painted pink. I love the fact that she’s comfortable doing something out of the ordinary and different like that, because I never was.

“Your nails look pretty,” I say.

She holds both hands up and smiles. “Thanks.”

I start on the second braid, slowing down,

not wanting these few minutes to end.

Finally, I weave the last three strands together and twist the pink hair band around the end. “There you go,” I say, kissing the top of her head.

She runs her hands over both of the braids. “Thanks, Mommy,” she says, “You did good.”

Then she pops up and runs out of the room.

I pick up the brush and cradle it in my hands, realizing how much I love this time with her,

these few minutes each night…

these few minutes of braiding her hair,

that are really much more than that.

*post previously published (we’ve been camping the last few days and I’ve been away from my computer!)

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How do you know when you’re done having kids?

When my friend Stephanie at Metropolitan Mama sent me the question,

“What were the contributing factors that led to your decision to have two kids?”…

I had to think about it.

While I wish I had some profound or enlightening answer, the truth is, I’m not exactly sure how Mike and I came to the decision.

We’d always talked about wanting two kids, but it was the sense that our family was complete that came after we our son and daughter that gave us the feeling we were done.

I remember after we had our daughter–our first–I looked forward to having another baby. I was really excited for her to have a brother or sister, and I knew in my heart I wanted more kids.

Then after our son was born, suddenly, our family felt complete,

like we were done.

It wasn’t that he was a hard baby and scared us out of wanting more. He was actually pretty easy. (The first night he was born, he slept almost four hours straight and Mike and I were worried that something might be wrong because our daughter had been so different–waking up every two hours!)

So, I guess I’d say having two kids wasn’t really something we decided, it was more something we felt (if that makes sense).

And it turns out that a family of four is just the right size for us. :)

Thanks, Stephanie, for asking!

What about you? How many kids do you have? Did you plan on that number or did you get surprised? And if you’re done having kids, what made you feel you were done?

*post previously published.

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It’s posts like this that make me glad I blog

I was looking through some of my archives the other day, reminiscing about when the kids were younger, when I came across this one about my son. It had me cracking up out loud, remembering, and being glad I blogged about it. (He’s 11 now and I miss these funny, little boy times!…)

Snakes and snails and… BIRD WINGS?!

I’ve told you before about some of the things my son has done, like tie a tarantula to my steering wheel and make little soap planets on the shower wall.

And then of course there was the big, bad red thing in my kitchen.

Most recently though, he’s been into snails and slugs. In fact, he’s had one snail (that he calls a worm) for about three weeks now…

In case you can’t read his writing on the outside of the snail house, my son is the proud owner of Phillip Johnny Bob Joe Rex, “awesomest” worm (snail).

He has a real worm too.

And a slug.

And a cute little pot to keep them in…

But none of that is as bad as the bird wing…

Remember the baby birds I told you about, and how they didn’t make it?

The other day, my son came in from playing in the backyard and said, “Mom, something dug up Tibbles” (one of the birds).

“How do you know?” I asked.

“Because look what I found…”

And he held up a plastic bag with a bird wing in it.


I tried not to freak out.

“Did you touch that with your bare hands?”

He nodded.

“Go wash your hands really good,” I said (sort of calmly). “Right now. And then put the wing back outside.”

“But, Mom,” he hugged the bag, “it’s a keepsake.”

A keepsake?!

I tried to remember to see things from his perspective. “But it won’t last,” I explained. “And it has germs on it.”

“No it doesn’t,” he said, matter-of-fact.” I already washed it with soap and put hand sanitizer on it.” He proudly held the bag closer for me to see.

And sure enough, that little wing was gooped with sanitizer gel.

I promise you though, that didn’t change my mind.

Because, somehow, keeping a wing in a plastic bag creeps me out a tad more than having snails and worms as pets. Or finding my daughter’s mouse in the laundry basket.

Ha! :)

 

What about you? How do you capture these kinds of funny memories with your kids- blogging? photography? scrapbooking? journaling? Isnt’ it fun to go back and remember? :)

The lesson in the pet aisle at Target…

*post originally published 2009

My daughter and I walked into Target and headed straight for the pet aisle.

She had around $40.00 left on a gift card she’d been saving, and she wanted to buy supplies for the kitten she was planning to adopt.

She made her choices carefully, picking out a scratching pole, cat food, litter, a scooper, a couple of kitten toys, and shampoo.

She added up each item as she put it into the cart, making sure the total would be under $40.00.

It was fun to watch, and I was proud of her for wanting to pay for everything herself.

When she was done, she said, “We need to go to Customer Service before we pay, Mommy. I want to check exactly how much I have on here.” She held up the card with a big smile.

“Looks like you have $16.99,” the woman at Customer Service said.

My daughter shook her head.

“I thought you had $40.00,” I told her.

“I thought so too.” Her face fell.

Everything in me wanted to come to her rescue.

I looked at all the things she’d so thoughtfully picked out–the kitten toys, the scratching pole, even the litter. She’d been saving money for months for a kitten, and she’d been holding onto that gift card specifically for supplies.

My heart broke as I saw the disappointment in her face.

And I debated…

Should I step in and help her pay? She’d been so responsible, and she could still pay for the kitten like she wanted to…

But something in me knew that wasn’t the right thing to do.

She looked at me and shrugged. “Let’s go, Mommy. I have to figure out what to put back.”

She headed to the pet aisle again.

I followed with a lump in my throat.

She didn’t even ask for me to pay for the supplies.

And, honestly, that made me want to help her even more.

Still, I kept quiet as I watched her look at the things in the cart, check the prices again, and try to decide what to take out.

She picked up a kitten toy and hugged it. “It’s so cute,” she said.

Then she put it on the shelf.

The scratching pole, shampoo, and cat food followed.

All that was left in the cart was the scooper and the litter, which added up to almost exactly $16.00.

“I’ll save up for the other stuff and come back.” She smiled.

And I almost started bawling right there.

Even though she’d run into a bump in the road, she worked through it.

By herself.

And as I watched her pay for that scooper and litter with her gift card, I realized she was just as happy and proud of herself as she would’ve been if she’d been able to buy everything she’d originally picked out.

That’s when I knew, even though it was hard for me not to come to her rescue, and even though I almost did, I did the right thing by not helping her.

And I learned a valuable lesson.

Sometimes, I catch myself wanting to step in and make things easier for my kids.

It breaks my heart when they face adversity.

But I was reminded that it’s often that very adversity that builds character.

If I had helped my daughter pay for those supplies, sure, I would’ve made things easier for her. But she would’ve missed out on the experience of working through the disappointment herself.

She would’ve missed out on saving more money and waiting to buy something she wanted.

And she would’ve missed out on the joy of going back to the store, days later, and buying the supplies all on her own.

Now, every time my daughter tells someone about her new kitten (which she has since adopted), the first thing she says is, “I paid for everything myself!”

And if I would’ve helped her that day, she would’ve missed out on that, too.

What about you? Do you find yourself wanting to rescue your kids when they hit a bump in the road? Do you have a time you can share where you’ve seen your kids grow by facing adversity or disappointment?

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