What I wish I'd known before I had kids

Yesterday I mentioned the audio book I am listening to -- House Rules by Jodi Picoult. For any of you who may know someone who has a child with Asperger's Syndrome, I highly recommend this book. It is a window into the life of a parent who deals with the syndrome every day -- in this case, a single mom. It also delves into the emotions and thoughts of the sibling, as well as painting a portrait of the Asperger's child from his own point of view. I feel I have gained an enormous amount of understanding by listening to this book, and I trust that Picoult did her research and has given this fictional family an honest portrayal.

That said, I wanted to share a list from the book. The mom in the book writes an advice column and I especially liked this one:

What I Know Now That I Wish I'd Known Before I Had Kids

1. If you stick a piece of bread in a VCR, it will not come back intact.
2. Garbage bags don't work as parachutes.
3. Childproofing is a relative term.
4. A tantrum is like a magnet -- Eyes cannot help but lock onto you and your child when it happens.
5. Legos are not absorbed by the digestive tract.
6. Snow is a food group.
7. Kids know when you're not listening to them.
8. A brussel sprout covered in cheese is still a brussel sprout.
9. The best place to cry is in a mother's arms.
10. You'll never be as good a mother as you want to be.

                                                                -- Emma in House Rules by Jodi Picoult

Isn't that a wonderful list? I personally love it, even if it is a list a fictional character created for a fictional parenting advice column!

So here's my challenge to you -- If you were to write a list with the same title, what would you include in your lineup? Post a comment here or on Facebook and let me know! I'll compile a list of my favorite 10 responses and post it.

Keeping it real,

Hana





The Sabbath Experiment -- week 9

Yesterday was another unusual Sunday for me. After spending several days caring for my mother, who lives 250 miles from me, I was able to return home yesterday.

Perhaps traveling on the Pennsylvania turnpike may not sound like Sabbath-type activity, but for me, the drive was relaxing. At least, most of the time. I wouldn't say driving through the snowy conditions as I traveled over the mountains was exactly restful, but the solitude was nice.

When I heard the weather forecast and shared it with my mother, she practically shoved me out the door! I didn't mind. I was anxious to get home. So I loaded up my wonderful Honda Insight Hybrid (that's just fun to say!) and hit the road, accompanied by a superior cast of voice over talents reading Jodi Picoult's House Rules. This is a book that really holds my interest, as most of Picoult's do, and the hours flew by.

Safely ensconced in my husband's arms by late afternoon, my body relaxed and my spirit rejoiced. Home! I love being home.

Despite the fact that the last thing he wanted to do was go out, Bill didn't hesitate to say yes when I asked him to take me out for dinner. I just wanted to be waited on for a meal and he knew why. After we came home, he went back to stringing lights on the Christmas tree and I headed upstairs for a long, hot bath. The Sabbath. A day of rest. Believe me, when I slipped into that tub, rest is exactly what happened.

I woke up to not-so-hot water and, while I had hoped I would be revived somewhat, the truth is, I was exhausted and I headed to bed.

So my Sabbath day included some travel, some fiction, some tenderness from my husband, a good meal, a hot bath and sleep. What it did not include was attending worship service, and I missed that. But all-in-all, it was restful.

Usually, one of the first things I do when I get up on Monday mornings is blog about my Sabbath Experiment. Today, I opted for some grandbaby time instead. Laura and I spent a lovely day together, singing and laughing and cuddling. So now, I'm feeling even more rested...which is a good thing, since I'll now to work late into the evening!

Anyway, that was my experience this week. What was yours? Have you started your own Sabbath experiment? I would love to hear your stories!

Sharing my day of rest,

Hana

The other side of grace

I'm currently listening to Harvesting the Heart by the fabulously talented Jodi Picoult and read by the equally wonderful voice-over talent, Cassandra Campbell. At the end of the tenth CD, Picoult weaves a tapestry of grace that brought me to tears tonight.

We've all heard stories of prodigal sons and daughters. But in Harvesting the Heart Picoult addresses a less common situation...that of prodigal mothers; mothers who choose to leave their children behind. It made me wonder how many moms out there have felt like running away at some point or another. The demands of motherhood can be overwhelming and escape...any escape...is tempting. It has nothing to do with love, either. Moms that run often love their children just as much as those who stay...sometimes more. Some mothers leave because of insecurities. Demon thoughts haunt them and convince them of their unworthiness as a parent.

Have you had days like that?

Yesterday I addressed the subject of grace. But I was looking at it in reference to how it makes the recipient of that grace feel. Then I listened to part of Picoult's book today and I started rethinking the whole subject.

In the book, Paige's mom leaves when Paige is five-years-old. Twenty years pass before Paige decides to go in search of her. Their reunion does not go as she anticipated. In her nonchalance, her mother does not beg for forgiveness, nor does she provide the answers Paige is looking for.

Lying in bed that night in her mother's home, Paige recalls times before her mother left when, after her parents had argued, she would crawl into bed and cuddle up next to her mother. Two decades later, Paige is awakened by the muffled sounds of her mother's cries coming from the bedroom. She stands outside the door looking at her mother and this is what Picoult writes: "I just couldn't do it. After all, so much had happened. I wasn't a four-year-old child and she was no more than a stranger. She was practically nothing to me................Even as I crossed the floor, I was listing all the reasons I shouldn't. You don't know her. She doesn't know you. She shouldn't be forgiven. I crawled under the covers with a sigh that unraveled the years. I put my arms around my mother and willingly slid back to where I'd started."

Grace. Do you see that? But Picoult made me think about grace in a different way. Sure, the grace was being extended to the mother. But can you see, in this situation, how the grace Paige gives actually provides healing to Paige herself?

Yesterday, in the grocery store, when I offered a gracious response to the harried woman, was that grace only intended for her or is it possible I needed to offer grace in order to receive it myself? On the surface, I wasn't the one in need. But after thinking about Paige and her mother, I started thinking about other situations where grace is needed. Perhaps I needed to extend grace because some of my rough edges needed softening...the rough edges of being judgmental, feeling superior, feeling justified in my annoyance...is it possible the grace I gave away was needed more by me than by her?

What about that broken vase or spilled milk? Is it possible your child is a bit more nervous and careless because of tension in the house? Did he overhear mommy and daddy arguing last night? Is mommy so absorbed in her studies for her college classes that she's not setting aside enough time for cuddling?

When you're ready to snap at your child, opt for grace. And then think about which one of you really needs it most. Maybe that's one of the things that's so amazing about grace...it works best when it goes full circle.

I hope you will forgive me for going off on this grace tangent for the past two days. I promise you some solid posts next week on healthier and greener living. As a matter of fact, I'll be featuring a guest blogger who is tackling the subject of celiac disease with advice to parents of gluten-intolerant children.

Practice grace. Your home will be healthier for it.