Saith Me… Truth and Compassion

Speaking the truth, particularly when the subject is a negative one, must be done with care. Life’s difficult lessons seldom need harsh reinforcement. When the truth is shared compassionately, there is a greater chance that a lesson will be learned rather than rejected out of self-protection and defense.

Those wise enough to both see the need to share the truth and share it compassionately are rare and are priceless beyond measure. For it takes great courage to be a person of truth and compassion in a world where the truth is used to harm and compassion is seen as weak.

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A Peaceful Thanksgiving Day

Embracing something new this year for Thanksgiving. Guilt free, stress free time with my husband.

When we were first married, the holidays were very stressful. Then the kids came and matters became much worse. Fibromyalgia undermined the holidays, especially Thanksgiving in those years when the kids were small and we did not know what caused my intense bouts of pain and fatigue. We did, however, know that participating in a game of holiday grandparent tug-of-war made me ill.

Eventually, the holidays became a time where my small family chose to stay home. Our door was always open, to family and friends alike. I would bake and cook and fill the table until it groaned. A few times friends joined us at that table, but most often it was just our small family of four.

After a very tough year of loss and a year when diagnosis finally explained my ill health, I asked my son to take over the Thanksgiving preparations. He was still a youth of twelve but he loved the challenge. From then on, Thanksgiving was his day.

Thanksgiving in my youth was all about the extended family and the food. Thanksgiving as a young wife and young mother was stressful. I tried my hardest counter the negativity of extended family contention. I learned that in a big family, the craziness is just part of the holiday tradition, but in a very small family, the craziness is unhealthy.

Year by year all our family shrank in size as age and illness took their toll. But with loss came the realization that the contention was gone as well.

We knew it would be awhile before our family would grow again. Knowing that the future would bring new members to our family caused us to ponder how to make the holidays different for the next generation.

These last few years found us carving out blissful memories as we carved the turkey. The holiday season became one of giving, of seeking others for whom we could share our bounty. Our table groaned less under the weight of food, but rather, gifts of food found their way to other tables.

Each holiday season, beginning with Thanksgiving, my children would focus on the gifts they could share with others outside our home. My son embraced the task of giving bread and jelly. My daughter crafted gifts of yarn and fabric. Baking and needlework filled our time and filled our hearts as our simple gifts brought smiles to others. The holidays were still stressful and fatigue was still a problem for me, but now the stress revolved around helping my children learn the value of giving thanks by giving of themselves.

My kids are not in the position to come home this year. They are both embracing their chosen paths, and I am immensely grateful for the maturity in which they traverse this stage of life. I am also grateful that during the years of teaching them to give of themselves, I have learned to share them with others.

As I reflect on the holidays of the past, I embrace the notion that for a time, maybe just a short time, my husband and I can enjoy Thanksgiving Day as a couple, not so young, but without any guilt or pressure. What to some might seem sad, the two of us alone on Thanksgiving Day, is the very thing for which I am most grateful this year.

I am filled with joy knowing that this year the gift I have given to others is my children and that my children can enjoy this time unfettered by guilt, sorrow, jealousy, and contention, at least not from me.

I am also filled with peace on this Thanksgiving Day; a peace emanating from the presence of good company, a bountiful pantry, and love.

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FYI: I cannot view, nor do I endorse any of the ads that are shown on my blog.

Entitlement is a Symptom

I am a mother of two teenagers.  My boy turns sixteen in less than a month and my girl is in the first half of her fourteenth year. This fact does not make me an expert, however it does qualify me as a mother of our current generation of teens.

While my teens disagree with non-family adults at times, they are quick to apologize if they should act in a rude manner.  What I mean by this is that they speak their minds, defend their beliefs and apologize later even if they were in the right. They are good kids, they show respect for me and my husband.  They argue with us, as I believe they should because each argument leads to a lesson taught and learned.  They have said they are sorry for their attitudes more times than I can count and so have I (just not as often).  They have learned to respect people who deserve respect and have tolerance for those who do not.

I have the testimonials of others to confirm what I know from experience – I have good kids.  However, my kids didn’t get this way by chance and I didn’t win some good child lottery.  I worked diligently every day.  I went to bed praying every night to have better skills to teach my kids with, and forgiveness for my own shortcomings as well as theirs.  Too many days I yelled, too many times I became distracted, too often I waited longer than I should to give hugs and kisses.    I didn’t read to them enough, I didn’t play with them enough, but I did listen, observe and act.  I was in their lives, their faces and their business.  I still am.  I sacrifice for them. I give them all the tools they could possibly need to succeed. I drive them crazy with lectures, discussions and evaluations.  I am their mom, their confidant, their counselor and maybe just a tiny bit their friend.

It has not been, nor is it my goal to be their friend, but somehow, they like me.  Go figure, they like the grumpy, annoying, and nearly always right teacher, their mom.

So how have I managed this miracle?  Am I a Tiger Mom, or a French Mom or a Soccer Mom?  I am none of these things.  My success comes from spending endless hours talking to my kids, analyzing what they need, and acting.  In essence I parent them.

In 2004, Bill Cosby gave a speech in which he said, “We are not parenting.”  He also says that all the children “[know] is ‘gimme, gimme, gimme.’ These people [the parents] want to buy the friendship of a child….and the child couldn’t care less.”  He was talking to a very specific audience, an audience bigger than the one in the lecture hall that day.  His comments, which I advise all to read or watch, were directed to the lower and middle class black community of the United States, and he started a firestorm of fury.

However, I would like to direct his words to all of the middle and upper class of this nation, maybe even to the world.  I hear so much about the problem of youth entitlement, and how this is a “give me” generation, but where are their parents and grandparents in this debate?  Don’t get me wrong, I fully believe that the idiocy of the youth must be addressed, just as I have addressed my own children’s idiocy.  I have also addressed their grandparent’s idiocy of excess.  Excess money and toys do not make a child feel loved; only time and attention can generate that emotion.  Money and toys are easier to give and are a balm to the grandparent’s consciences when distance or busy lives keep them away from their posterity.  The child, old or young will not remember the money or toys when grandparents are gone, they will remember the games, stories and most of all the smiles and hugs that they shared with their “gramps and nanna”.

If it holds true that time and attention generate love, fondness and respect, then this recipe should work for parents as well as grandparents.

Often I have been told by working moms that they wish they could homeschool their kids as I do.  My answer has always been that they should use the hours of the evenings and weekends to work with their children.  Now, I don’t mean by heaping on more school subjects or doing endless housework (although working alongside your child is encouraged).  I mean that moms (and dads) should find a common interest or intrigue and pursue it together.  Yes, the zoo is fine or the museum, but unless you have a young biologist or artist in your home, try to find something else; something that you have to learn right alongside them, something new. It is amazing how much more open kids will be with you when the playing field has been evened.  Of course, word of warning, just like when teaching a child the game of chess you must help them win sometimes, while learning new skills and hobbies you should not outshine your child too much, let them compete with friends not parents for the blue ribbon.

When I hear adults complain about the “entitled youth”, I wonder about the parents and grandparents.  I wonder about the neighbor lady who is grandchildless, and the older gentleman whose children live far away.  How are they helping this generation?  I don’t think that the youth are the problem of today, I believe they are the byproduct of the problem.  Parents not parenting.  Grandparents spoiling rather than interacting.  Adults with kids grown, not volunteering in youth groups.  Society blaming the lost and not those who lost them.  Yes there will be some youth who will rebel or get lost regardless of the attention they recieve, but the effort should be made while there is still time left to make it.

I was brought up by a community of family and close neighbors.  When I had my children, I was not fortunate to have family nearby, so I found “family”.  I found aunts and uncles, grannies and grandpas, and even a few older cousins.  When someone moved away, I found a replacement.  I ensured that my children had a community of caring people in their lives.  I did this while I still worked full time and maintained it afterwards.  When my son faced a devastating internal struggle and his parent’s counsel did not help, we brought him to a loving “uncle” who spent time with him, listened to him and was always available, despite his own busy life as a father, husband and provider.  When my daughter struggled with self-doubt and low self-esteem, I found a bunch of “aunts” and “grandmas” who took her under their wing and nurtured her.

You will notice the word “I” was used quite often.  These are my kids and therefore I am accountable for them in their youth.

So what is the secret of my success, I spend time with my kids and I don’t do it alone – I don’t try to do it alone either.

(Just a note to the dads out their – all that I have stated, my husband agrees with, as parenting truly is a group effort.)