encouragement

Lessons from gecko poop.

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Gecko poop, piles of dog hair, a drug den and hard, hard, hardwood floors. These are some of the ingredients that mixed together formed a breaking point of sorts in my soul and taught me something good and well.

We were brand new to Australia and had moved into a rental house we’d applied for without having seen in person. Within a short time of being there we were told that the previous tenants had been arrested for drug dealing and people still drove by, hoping for a deal or two to go down.  Mmmm. That’s a comforting thought with three children underfoot. The house was filthy. Years of grime filthy. So I spent a good amount of time trying to de-grime it. We were in the middle of a five month stint of homeschooling, as we had just come out of an American Summer, then had weeks of visiting family and had weeks to go before the new school year started in Queensland. So we had this beautiful homeschooling routine, which brought structure to our lonely days, but we had no furniture, so would sit on these hard wooden floorboards. I could go on, but I won’t. All in all it was a full blown recipe for some ‘character building’ moments.

Character building seasons are all very well and good, for a time.

For a time.

But I quickly discovered that if you’re in one of these character building seasons, but happen to leave the back door of your heart open to some stinkin’ thinkin’, well then.

Well then indeed.

I’ve never really been one to think ‘woe is me’. That wasn’t my dealio. Nah. My problem was more to do with entitlement and thinking I/ my family deserved better.

That thinking in me, didn’t last, thanks be to God. But I see a lot of it all around me. And have decided that nothing good comes from it.

There’s a lot of people out there thinking they are ‘deserving’ of stuff.  And from my experience, that just opens up a whole can of worms.

If you’re not a Christ follower then entitlement completely makes sense: you work hard, you do your best in whatever it is you’re doing, you work your way up the ladder and good stuff follows. You deserve the salary, the houses, the cars, the holidays. You get stuff, because of what you do.

If you are a Christ follower, then things in your world are a little or a lot more topsy turvey. The last shall be first. A goal to have is to ‘act justly, love mercy, walk humbly with my God’.  The bible encourages us to look out for others, especially the widows, the orphans and the poor. There’s not a whole heap of self establishing going on in the bible, but there is a lot of outward looking, community building, watching out for others shenanigans.

And so, this is where I found a big disconnect with those, including myself, who have thought that so and so ‘deserves’ such and such.

I now believe that there’s actually nothing in the world that I really deserve.

Everything I am and have, is through Gods grace. Through God’s goodness. You see if I were to believe, as a christian, that I deserved such as such because I’ve done such and such to earn that, then isn’t that putting our own economy of scale on something we have absolutely no right to do? Because the minute we do, it all blows up in our faces. I can’t ever say ‘I deserve’ this…..when it discredits others I know, who are doing incredible God stuff.

Friends of ours who selflessly and tirelessly foster children. Time and time again they open up their home and their hearts, creating space for just one more.

My christian doctor friend who over and over, didn’t charge me what she could have, when I was on a cocktail of painkillers and never ending appointments.

All the christian teachers I know who plan and pray and do their best to protect the children in their care.  The job where enough is never done, there’s always more to do.

You see all these people, and countless more, are just getting on and doing stuff,  coz that’s what they believe in. So how can we say that one is more deserving of ‘stuff’ than others? This is the body of Christ getting on and doing stuff. If you’re to single people out and say that what one is doing is more worthy than others, that they deserve stuff, then aren’t you in a way discrediting all the stuff others are doing?

And I don’t think that’s the best way for this world to operate. We need each other. We need to know our callings and we need to be operating to fulfil them and encouraging each other, all the way. And the best way I know of how to keep this entitlement business far from entering the back door of my heart, is to see each and every thing in my life as a gift. Beautiful gifts.

My children.

Spunky hunk of a husband.

Our health.

Food in my fridge.

Friends who love and support me .

A church family who care.

Enough money to pay for electricity, water and gas.

All precious gifts. Anything more would still be a great gift. But nothing I’ve done or will do, ensures the gifting of these things to me. That’s the glory of grace.

Don’t we normally try to look after our gifts, just that extra bit harder? And don’t we think fondly and lovingly towards the giver of our gifts?

I know when I close the back door of my heart to any feelings of entitlement, and just concentrate on the glorious gifts in my  life, then all my attitudes and perspectives are that much healthier, happier and satisfied. Funny how it took a large amount of gecko poop to teach me this.

Finding the delightful in the different.

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This is for any parent who has ever had to sit through an ‘assessment’ on their child.

For every parent who has had developmental milestones clearly spelt out for them and been told their child fits outside of the normal parameters.

Gulp.

For every parent who has sat through an ‘indivualised education plan’ meeting, appearing as their child’s advocate as best they know how.

That’s never easy, not even for those who have walked this road for years.

The size of your child’s gap between what’s considered ‘normal’ and where they actually are, doesn’t actually reflect how big or small your feelings towards this situation could or should be.

Feelings are feelings, reality is reality.

What you have to shoulder each and every day, is no light load.

The grief you may face, knowing your child’s future will quite likely be rather different to their siblings realities, and the hopes and dreams you may have had for them, have had to morph into something different, to your early dreams for them.

I don’t know what challenges you face in your daily life. I don’t how how hard you have to fight to keep a smile on your face, to keep one foot walking in front of the other. I suspect that you rarely get a break, that sometimes people don’t know how or what to say to you, that you’re used to living in a constant state of exhaustion.

However there are parts of your story that I do know. I suspect if you were to sit me down and share your heart with me, I have an inkling that there are certain things you’d want to make crystal clear for me.

I think you would freely share that even though the tiredness is never-ending, there are still snippets of joy and of hope in your days.

I suspect you’d say that yes the appointments, assessments, meetings and therapies are ongoing and are costly in more than one way, but you’ve come to realize that these professionals are (mostly) on the same team as you, with your child’s best interests truly at heart.

I reckon you’d state, with eyes blinking away the tears, because you’re real and you’re raw, that you’ve come to find the delightful in the different. You see that what sets your child apart from others in how they see the world, or how the world sees them, and you can find some true delight in that.

And isn’t that the thing that makes every parent’s heart swell, in each and every child ? Your child is delightful. Your child has a purpose, your child has a place to belong, your child has unique giftings and talents and abilities.

Your child may well be different, but often, that’s the true beginning of real delight.

Space on my sofa.

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I couldn’t tell you what was served in the buffet at our wedding reception. I know it was fun choosing the menu, but I can’t for the life of me remember what was placed on my plate that night. (I do have other wonderful memories of that joyous day though). However, I can describe in great detail the meal we had at the top of the sky tower, celebrating an anniversary with dear friends of ours. As the restaurant moved in a steady 360 degree pirouette, we repeated the same conversation every time we came to the same point again. And again. And again.

There’s a building in this city, that I try to avoid driving past. It isn’t a bad building, it isn’t filled with bad people. It’s to do with what happened in that building, many many years ago. When medical professionals begin a sentence with ‘I’m sorry’, you tend not to have warm fuzzy feelings associated with that place.

The day that glorified dragonfly of a plane delivered us to a new city that was to become our new home, in a new land, my family took up half of all the seats on the plane. As I lugged a sleeping preschooler up to my shoulders, and held on for dear life to the handrail on the stairs,for more than one reason, the heat from the hundred degree day embraced me in moments.

Memories sure are a strange cast of characters in the story of our lives.

I’ve just read a beautiful, soul stirring book, prescribed for me by a Doctor friend. A collection of memories written in a most exquisite manner. Normally when reading such gold, I’d want to share the nuggets of truth and wisdom with all my friends in all the lands. But I’ve held off doing so this time, and instead relished the very personal nature of these memoirs. From one broken soul to another.

But there’s one delicate thread that the author has delicately woven throughout her essays. And it stood out to me, as if this thread was coloured highlighter yellow, against a background of white and grey. Anne’s writings are full of companionship; of facing life’s trials, joys, highs and lows, but facing them with others by her side. And it’s this presence thing that keeps blasting me from every direction.

Some of my memories make me breathe deep and even. Pulse steady and eyes bright. Other memories cause my breath to be short and shallow, with my pulse quickening, my heart racing. We’re reactive beings. Being a bible believing, Holy Spirit filled person, doesn’t stop your body from reacting as it naturally does. But the memories I have that cause my spirit to lift, that bring out all the wrinkles around my eyes, are nine times out of ten the memories I have that featured people by my side. Circumstances may have been hard,  but I was not alone.

This reminder I’ve been given about the importance of companionship, makes me want to have space on my sofa for more. I want my living room door to be one that opens freely and frequently. I also know that there may be times when I need to curl up on my sofa, and have someone else place my snuggly, soft blanket evenly over me. There may be days when someone else potters around in my kitchen, boils my kettle and brings me something warm and nourishing, to be placed on my sofa arm. But what I really long for, is to create a space for others. I want to rearrange the cushions around you. I’ll even hide the one that’s dirty. I know it’s there. I’ll whip up something tasty for you, and I’m working on growing my tea collection, to find something that will just tickle your tastebuds. If you need my snuggly, soft blanket, I’d be delighted to place it over you.

If I ever write a book of memoirs, then I’d like a photo of my sofas on its cover. I know the importance of companionship, I know the blessing of ‘presence’, I just hope and pray I can live it. That I can reach out beyond my four walls, that I can see and respond to others who need my hand of friendship. Come, come friend, come and sit over here. Along with that I hope and pray that I will know when to swallow my pride and step into the unknown with all its vulnerable fragileness during those times when I’m the one who needs to have someone put the kettle on for me.

Memories and companionship. That’s a good mix, right? There’s room on my sofa for you, my friend.

Fourteen. 

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Judi went to the preschool where she’d enrolled her son, with the intention of withdrawing his enrolment because of his recent autism diagnosis. She promptly changed her mind about the withdrawing part when the head teacher kindly responded to her with the words, ‘we are here for all children’.

Rowena was struggling in all sorts of ways at her old school and at an interview for a new school the Principal looked her squarely in the eyes and said ‘you have potential and I see it in you’.

Patti, as a young Mama and new believer was facing quite the lifestyle change. She recalls with amazing fondness being told ‘you are good enough, just as you are’.

Julie lost her Mum very unexpectedly, in extremely hard circumstances. To this day, she claims that the kindest words ever spoken to her have been the words, ‘it will get worse before it gets better’.

Anna grew up as a bit of an underachiever, in an underachieving family, and when she came to have her own family, some of her very real fears were around the thought that her own children wouldn’t ever find their passions and would settle for less than mediocre. She doesn’t fear that anymore after having her two children singled out in their school assembly and having some of their amazing achievements highlighted and brought attention to. That was the kindest and most meaningful thing that could ever happen to her.

Shelley was about to get engaged to someone who was not going to be God’s best for her, when her roommate pulled her aside and really questioned her and put words to her concerns about that relationship. Shelley will forever be grateful for those words, hard words but spoken in kindness, with kindness.

Shelley, Anna, Julie, Patti, Rowena and Judi. These are not random, far off people, in situations remote from us. Rather, these are all friends of mine, known and loved by me, who shared with me the times in their lives where kind words have impacted them the very most. And the thing that stands out to me, is that could well have been me, and maybe you, in many of those situations.

I counted up the number of verbal interactions that I had in just one average, nothing out of the ordinary day. I got to fourteen blocks of conversations. Fourteen different times of engaging with people in conversation on some level.

My friend Jenna, thoughtful Jenna, reckons she receives and remembers kindness when she’s at her weakest. That the kindest of words are those beautiful words given generously in the midst of a dark or difficult moment.

How many of these fourteen blocks of interactions of mine on that day, or on any given day, could have been kinder? How open were my ears and eyes to the signs that those I was engaged in conversation with, may have needed a spot of encouragement, a reassurance or a shoulder to lean on?  There are hurting people everywhere. We’re all walking wounded in some way.

We always, always, always remember the best, the most honouring and encouraging words spoken to us. We also remember the very worst of conversations. The condescending. The hurtful and disparaging.

An average of fourteen blocks of conversation a day. That’s a lot of opportunity for hope-filled, life-giving, ‘seeing the best in you’ words. Spoken by me. Given as a gift that is easily given, if I just remember and hold dear the reality of the impact these words could have. Just like the kind, kind words spoken to my friends, that are forever branded in their hearts, secured in their souls.

Collossians 4:6  Let your conversation be gracious and attractive so that you will have the right response for everyone. 

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With grace kissed cheeks.

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Rose-tinted glasses aren’t for everyone.  I’d prefer to try to have a fairly balanced, feet firmly planted on the ground, perspective on things.  Especially on things concerning the world of me, myself and I.  I thought I had a pretty good, a very realistic handle on my talents and abilities, limitations, giftings and failings.  I thought I did.

Then Love swooped down.

Why is it so much easier to look at the character traits in our children and people close to us, and although we may not always appreciate these traits at face value, we can see how they can be flipped and used for good, than to possibly say the same for us?

The bossy kid.  That’s leadership ability.

The stubborn child.  Well they won’t be easily swayed.

But in myself?  Well the negative, the lack, the gap between who I am and who I’d like to be, that’s always a bad thing. Always a sticking point.  Always a thing to block, ignore or explain away.

Until Love swoops down, kneels gently beside us, and grace kisses us on the cheeks.

I’ve been swept upon.  I’ve been blown away.  Regarding two separate specifics, who I thought I was, who I declared I wasn’t, they have been completely turned around.  I’ve been corrected and re-aligned, as only a Father with the very gentlest of touches can do.  This is the way, walk ye in it.  No longer shall you limit yourself in these ways.

You may be in a similar place to where I was.  Loudly proclaiming that there’s no way you could do x, y or z.  That’s not your gifting.  You’re not able to do that.  Or this part of you that others see as a negative thing, a hindering thing, is a stumbling block for you.

But maybe, God’s just waiting, lingering, hovering close, until you need to know that actually yes, your limitations are sometimes of your own doing.  And then, if you make room for him, then He’ll swoop down, and give you grace for the journey, grace for the task, grace for your own lack of ability, and He’ll make what you thought was impossible simply possible…..

And with that re-alignment comes a new confidence.  Because you know you’re not operating out of self and all that you know you can or cannot do – but what He is equipping you to do.  The path of obedience can be walked in confidence because God is leading the way, lighting the path in the dark places, and you can walk this new path with head held high because you are no longer a slave to fear and your own very cheeks, they have been kissed with grace.

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Pointe Shoes and What Ifs

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I was a late starter in the world of dance.  At the age of eleven I decided that dance was something I really wanted to do and had to do and couldn’t live without.  So I entered the world of leotards, tights, shoes and buns.  I started with modern jazz and quickly added ballet to the list of classes.  Now with ballet you really need to start with the basics and build up from there….so I was placed in a class of five and six year olds.  That’s quite a good motivator for anyone….to be twice someone’s age and to be learning something new……I practiced and I pranced and I danced and a twirled and I skipped, all with good toes and bad toes….and I worked my way up the grades….and I sort of caught up to my age group, but never really got there…

While I had determination and drive, its fair to say I never had a huge amount of natural talent.  I was never going to be an Anna Pavlova.  But it is amazing what you can accomplish through lots of practice and a sheer will to succeed.

Pointe shoes.  They were my nemesis.  They hurt.  They really did hurt. I was never comfortable in them, never felt at ease and never really loved them.  Those pretty, shiny pink satin covered blocks of wood became the enemy.  My barrier to success.

A couple of years ago I was online looking at ordering some pointe shoes for a friend, to send back to NZ from America.  Everything in America was cheaper.  Everything.  I came upon an article on how to find the right size of pointe shoes for your feet, and I realized that all along in my experience with pointe work, I had been wearing the wrong size shoes.  I’d never been properly fitted, never had the best fit for my feet.

And thus began my brief flirt with the idea of the ‘what if?’.

What if I had actually been wearing the right size shoes and what if pointe shoes had no longer hurt?

What if I grew to love them and wearing them became such a natural and easy extension of my life as a dancer?

What if I flew through the upper grades of RAD and my level of talent actually matched my level of enjoyment?

What if?

Now I quickly came to realize that even if any of those things had been true…..I was still not a great dancer….but for the meantime, that flirting with the idea of ‘what if’ gave me a false sense of reality…a warped view of the truth.  Allowing the ‘what ifs’ to creep in….overshadowed some stark realities.

And isn’t it the same with parenting?

Any and every time that we tango with a ‘what if’ with regards to our children, when we’re looking back in hindsight, from my experience….that ‘what if’ doesn’t do us any favours.

These ‘what ifs’ can be anything from:  what if we’d noticed such and such earlier?  What if we’d been more proactive in this area?  What if we’d made our kid do x, y and z?  What if we’d stopped them from doing x, y and z?  What if we’re not the right parent with this job?  What if I don’t how to handle this issue?

Big and small ‘what ifs’ surround us.

If you’ve been reading this blog for any amount of time you’ll know that for me, personally, the fact that all three of my boys have speech impediments/ issues (all three are different too!), has been a big thing for us both practically and for this Mama’s heart.  I’ve battled sooooo many ‘what ifs’ over this one.  I once got an email from a well-meaning person with a link to a (poorly written and badly researched) news article about a link between television watching and speech problems in kids.  Whammo.  There’s a massive ‘what if’.  It wasn’t until a saw a speech therapist with my oldest boy and she sat me down and told me straight….GENETICS…..that I realized I could no longer hold onto these ‘what ifs’.  I can’t escape the fact that these issues have been a part of my boys’ journeys, but I can control how I react to these situations.  And believe it or not, I am equipped to help my boys.  While I am lacking in a whole bunch of good qualities, just ask my kids, they’ll put you straight.  One thing I do possess is patience in bucketloads. And patience is what I need with these boys and their impediments.

If I have what I need, to parent my kids as best I can, both in me and my husband with our giftings combined and with calling on friends who are that little bit further along in their parenting journeys, not to mention as a Christian I believe so very strongly in the changing power of prayer….and I’m just as flawed and a mess as the next person, then I believe you too, have in you what you need, to parent your kids as best as you can.

Whatever the issues you’re facing, I’ve found that you can’t hold onto your ‘what ifs’.  They skew your reality.  They take your eyes off the goal.  I’ve found it takes a lot of energy to focus your thought life on all your negative qualities, all the things you’re lacking in.  That energy surely is better spent by focussing on what tools you do have at your disposal to approach different issues, as best you can.  Whether they are tools inside of you, or in people who are alongside you.

What ifs?

So what.  Let’s all work on eliminating parent guilt.  We can live without it.

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Beyond the Smiles

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It was my husband’s birthday yesterday. To honour the spunky hunk I posted a reasonably recent photo of him on Facebook, along with a few lines about how I feel about him. Then I got to thinking about that particular photo and what it represented.

The photo was taken in New York, in Times Square. We’d been ‘given’ a glorious 56 hours away from our three kids, and my very generous brother had flown us over to NYC to be there while he was there. The time  was magical in a huge number of ways. I honestly wasn’t expecting to love the city as much as I did, it was awesome to explore it with my brother and his wife, the weather was beautiful, the sights were stunning, it was simply magical. The photo shows a very happy husband, thoroughly enjoying a once in a lifetime experience.

What the photo doesn’t show is that happy husband had at that time begun to exhibit some pretty severe symptoms for type one diabetes. That photo doesn’t show the seriousness of what he was facing. The week after we got back Michael went to the doctor and was diagnosed with this life changing condition.

Beyond that smile, there was a lot more going on than what that smile would let on. Yes, that smile in that photo was genuine. We had an absolute blast in those 56 hours and created memories that will last us a lifetime. But, I’ll always remember there was more going on, there was more beyond that smile.

Last year before my kids started their new school, I remember being weirdly freaked out and overwhelmed by the thought that my kids wouldn’t fit in. It felt like everyone else had it all together, that their kids were all extremely high achieving and I held onto a completely unfounded fear that my boys with their ‘point of difference’, their speech impediments, would suffer and not fit in, when all around them were ‘perfect’ kids.

Yeah, well, it didn’t take long to realize that as I said earlier, this was an unfounded fear. A stupid fear. Ignorant thinking on my part. You see I know, I really do know, that there are no perfect kids. Just like there are no perfect people. We all have our issues. Every kid has something that they struggle with, some things are obvious, others are not. My kids did fit in just fine, because it is an imperfect world we live in.

But that false thinking of mine prompted me to think, more often, what is really going on with  x, y, z kid? How is that family doing?  Just like so much was going on behind the scenes of that photo I took of Michael, a moment in time, in Times Square…..what’s going on beyond the smiles of your kids classmates? Your kindy teacher? The check out operator you see once a week? The basketball coach? Hairdresser? Friend you just texted?

Now I do know that most people aren’t going to open up, blab on your shoulder and tell you their life’s woes, just because you’ve bothered to take the time and noticed them, some may though! And we actually don’t have to be in the loop with everyone’s own private business. But I felt this worthy of a blog post because I myself need reminding that so often we only see people’s highlight reels. We’re exposed to all that is good and noteworthy and praiseworthy in life, and it is easy to think how easy some people have it. And that can isolate us in our struggles, especially our kid struggles. But we’re in this together. There are no perfect kids and there are no perfect parents, but we are better together.

We are better when we look beyond the smiles, when instead of highlight reel, we see a real life reel.

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Our Paintbrushes.

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Yesterday I may have been vacuuming up a mess, half the playground brought inside in a pair of shoes mess, and I may or may not have uttered a sigh and some grunts of exasperation.

A couple of hours later the four year old was trying to do something and was having difficulties and I heard the same exact sigh and grunts of exasperation that I may or may not have uttered only hours earlier.

Little sponges.

All the time.

Our children – big and small – are sponges.

I was thinking about this sponge business and thinking about how I need to reign in my silly displays of frustration, and then I was struck by a memory of something that happened a while ago.

Some time ago I was present when a friend of mine was with her Mother, and the Mum kept making remarks about the Mum’s weight.  My friend was in her twenties – but even at this age, I could see her crumble at the sound of these remarks.  You see the remarks weren’t even aimed at the daughter – they were a grown woman’s observation of herself, but spoken in her daughter’s presence, and in my presence, they made us feel……weird.  Awkward.  Unsure of where to take the conversation.  Unsure of what our response should be.  Those incidents – not a one-off event – but over a period of time – made me vow to myself that I wouldn’t make any judgement calls on my appearance in front of my children, and in front of their peers.  Especially if I happened to have any girls.  As it turns out we’ve been blessed with three amazing BOYS – but my stance remains firm – I won’t talk negatively about my appearance in front of my children.  Ever.  Because of how it made my friend and I feel, when we heard my friend’s fifty-something year old Mother talk about her appearance.

Sponges.  Our kids are sponges.

Now I know there are Mums and Dads out there who do have real issues with their own appearance and struggle daily with accepting their particular ‘package’.

Pregnancy changes your body in ways that are, quite simply, irreversible.  Blokes your bodies don’t change as a result of childbirth – but you’re often on the receiving end of the struggle to adjust to these changes and the ‘I have NOTHING to wear that fits me’ situations…..

Ageing changes our bodies.  Yep.  That ole Father Time has a lot to answer for.

If you’re having a hard time accepting what you look like, or how pregnancy has changed your outer shell, then please, can I encourage you to read the following two blog pieces I read that prompted me to focus on this issue?  Can I encourage you to have a go at attempting to be at peace with your body?  And can I encourage you to avoid projecting your negative feelings onto your kids?  There’s a whole bunch of junk that comes out of that, and nothing positive.

The first blog piece is by Emily Wierenga.  She’s a former anorexic and writes powerfully, from experience and gives really great advice for this journey we need to walk.   The blog piece can be found here.

The second blog that I’d love you to read is by Glennon Doyle Melton, who blogs under the name Momastery.  ‘Your body is not your masterpiece, your life is’.  Powerful words – and a good dose of reality that I think we all need.  The piece can be found here.

Do yourself a favour, and do your kids a favour…..remind yourself of these truths today….

‘Your body is not your offering. It’s just a really amazing instrument which you can use to create your offering each day. Don’t curse your paintbrush. Don’t sit in a corner wishing you had a different paintbrush. You’re wasting time. You’ve got the one you got. Be grateful, because without it you’d have nothing with which to paint your life’s work.’ – Momastery

If this accepting of yourself, of your outer shell, is something you struggle with, your partner struggles with, your sister or your cousin or your Mother or your daughter……point them in the direction of these links…..

And remember, as I am learning…..our children…..are little sponges.  Always.

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The Cycle of Grime?

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Today would be a fantastic day to visit me.  I tell ya – my floors are sparkling clean, the toilet gleams, my oven shines, and even my linen cupboard is neat and tidy.

Now we’re not messy slobs, but on a normal day there isn’t quite this level of cleanliness in my house…not with my three boys.

But today we were inspected!  In nearly fifteen years of marriage and nearly fifteen years of renting, this was the first time we’ve ever had a house inspection.  We’ve either had very lazy landlords in the past, or very trusting landlords…….Anyway here in Australia it is customary for property managers to do inspections every three or four months.  Our property manager was happy with our place and we ‘passed’.  Whew.  But I learnt an interesting thing today.  When you leave a rental property here, the expectation is that the house only needs to be in the condition that it was in when you began the lease.  When you take over a lease you have to fill out an entry report.  In that report you write down every mark on a wall, every bit of mould, every patch of weeds you see.  And when you leave……those same allowances are there with the expectation that there is no need to improve on them.  For us – the reality of that is – when we took over the lease here, our bathroom ceiling was absolutely covered in mould.  It totally grossed me out.  With a bit of elbow grease and a good cleaning product we managed to clean the sucker up – and now there is no mould there.  I asked the property manager about that, and she said the mould was allowed to be present when we took over the lease because it had been there when the previous tenants took over their lease.

The cycle of grime.

That’s the reality of it.  If we hadn’t said enough is enough, and that mould ain’t healthy, and that mould ain’t pretty……well then that there mould could have stayed put until we leave this here property.  And that would have been ok, legally.

But, gross.  Right?

This whole entry report/ entry condition being ok for exit condition……while it kinda safeguards the tenant against any wear and tear already present in the property, it also seems to be the easy road to travel down.  I can see how in older homes the grime could just grow by levels…..gardens could become very dishevelled…and so on.

We couldn’t stand to live in the grime we originally found our rental in……I remember crying as I washed down the breezeway and as I swept up mounds and mounds of dog hair and gecko and cockroach poop.  For us, we had to make a stand against the cycle of grime we found.

I was thinking about this whole cycle thing this afternoon, and was struck with the thought that sometimes that is what this parenting gig is like.  We carry on, carrying on, doing as we have always done…..because a.  it may be what our own parents did or b.  it works for us or c. it is all we know to do.  And sometimes that is just fine…..but like a rental house that never gets improved upon, even when new people come and go……if we don’t stop and look at our actions and reactions and if we don’t sometimes mix it up or look for a new and better way of dealing with things……then we’re going to get stuck with the same results, with very little room for improvement.

It takes time and energy and effort to clean a house properly.  It takes getting ourselves dirty, and it takes getting down on our hands and knees sometimes.  It takes reaching into the dark and unseen places.  It takes sheer will power.  And so does parenting – intentional parenting.

So what can we as parents do, to help us upskill ourselves?  How can we not settle for the ‘cycle of grime’?

We can

* attend parenting seminars (Triple P parenting seems to be a big thing here in Brisbane).

*  read books – from a wide variety of authors and experts

*  read blogs – read shared experiences

*  ask other Mums and Dads the hard questions – especially to those who are in the same stage as us and those who have been in the stages we are.

*  parenting DVDs – at the moment a small group I’m in is going through a parenting course called ‘Parenting your kids on Purpose’, I can highly recommend it.

*  share your struggles, your triumphs and successes with your friends.  I guarantee the minute you open up with a concern, there will be others in your circle of friends going through a very similar or exact same thing as you.

I know it is humbling to ask for help – it takes guts to acknowledge a situation when you are out of your depth, but I’m learning that’s ok.

No-one has all the answers, and together is so much better.  Together we’re just a bit more clued up.

The cycle of grime is not a good thing for rental houses – even if it is ‘allowed’……and the cycle of parenting without upskilling oneself or looking for new ideas and asking for help is not a good thing for families – even if it is ‘allowed’.

How do you intentionally upskill yourself, when it comes to parenting issues?

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For the ‘my child is the worst’ parent….

/ fionacharisbrown / Leave a comment

If your child has never thrown a hissy fit in a crowd feel free to leave your computer and put the telly on, I’m sure there’s a new episode of Downton on for you.

If your child has never raised their voice and caused heads to turn, isn’t it time for a cuppa?

If you have never shed a tear over something your little darling has done, or not done, then out you go, that dog needs a walk.

Right then.  The rest of you.  Let’s gather around those parent friends of ours who are having a tough time of it, and offer them some real and raw advice.

If you’re one of the ones still reading this, then no doubt you’ve had your own challenges and your own phases of thinking everyone is looking at MY child and you seriously feel like the worst parent in the world.  This parenting gig is a learning thing.  You finally get one thing sorted and then another challenge rears its (ugly!) head.  It is VERY easy to feel like your child’s behaviour is a direct reflection of you.  Especially when they are toddlers/ preschoolers. And to some extent it is – but then there’s this huge gap where the child’s own personality comes in to play and they are navigating their way through the jungles of learning to share, learning to express themselves, learning to be heard.  And I guarantee in any playgroup, any Mainly Music group, and preschool gymnastics/ swimming/ whatever group, there is always going to be at least one child with one parent who is feeling like their child is ALWAYS the one receiving attention for all the wrong things.

One of my children was an extremely busy toddler – so much so he earned himself the nickname of The Hurricane.  Child-safety locks had nothing on him, he climbed before he could walk, he made having an adult conversation an Olympic feat and we lost count of the number of times he escaped from the nursery at church.  He was the one that I was convinced would turn me grey.  I shed many tears over this little dude.  But you know what?  That season passed.  That Hurricane is now the most chilled out guy around. I do not have grey hair. Yet.

So to all the Mums and Dads out there who are shaking their heads and feel like they are at their wit’s end, and feel the weight of condemnation from others on them……you are not alone.

You are not alone.

So many of us have gone before you.  And one day, you too, will be that shoulder for others to cry on.  In the meantime……..my only words of wisdom to you are – consistency, consistency, consistency.  It will pay off…..it is darn tiring, exhausting work…..but it will pay off.  Consistency, consistency, consistency.  And caffeine.

So to all of you who have been in the same boat…..you’ve felt like your child has been the worst in the room, the one who is always upset and causing ‘issues’……what can you say to encourage those in this situation now?

Please add your thoughts and words of encouragement in the comments on here.

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