When I think of "Mom Guilt" I think of the guilt a mother puts on her children.
"I only carried you for nine months, but it's okay to hurt me." "How could you do this? To me? Your mother?" I grew up watching sitcoms (and still do) so I learned through TV that Catholics and Jews are supposed to have some super level mom guilt. However, I believe this to be inaccurate because we can all do it well. And it seems that in today's age, it's far more prevalent. For as much as moms will guilt their children, I find that moms are more likely to guilt each other. It wasn't long ago that a mother tried to shame me for the dinner I had brought my children. We are in that season of life where there is dinner in the car more nights than dinner at the table. Personally, I hate it. I love sitting down for dinner. But if this is where we are, so be it. One night we were eating dinner at the dance studio before heading up the road for taekwondo and then back down the road for soccer. Back up the road to pick up from taekwondo to go back down the road to another soccer match. It was a lot. And I was teaching a class at the studio the kids were dancing at as well. So, I figured on these nights to fill them up during lunch time and bring smaller meals for dinner. We were trying to be very well rounded in our meal planning, so usually the kids had some good foods spread out throughout the day. Anyway, as we sat down to eat our dinner, a mother was picking up her student from my class. She then proceeded to walk around the table and inspect my children's dinners. And as serious as she could be, she asked me where their protein was. She couldn't believe that what was before my children was their dinner. How could I not pack their protein? This is where I struggle. I am a non-confrontational person. So that heart of me is saying, "Excuse me? Who gave you the right to talk to me like that?" But on the outside I'm saying, "Oh, well they had chicken breast at lunch. I pretty much reverse lunch and dinner these days." I acted appropriately. I spoke appropriately. But I was mad. Why? 1-Not her kids. 2-Not her business. 3-I'm a fitness professional. 4-Not her business. 5-I'm a good mom. 6- NOT HER BUSINESS!! This woman attempted to shame me for what I packed in the lunch boxes
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One of my favorite movies growing up, don't judge me, was Happy Gilmore. In this comedy, Adam Sandler faces off against Christopher McDonald for the desired green jacket of the US Open. Happy Gilmore (played by Sandler) longs to a professional hockey player, but is overly aggressive and can't skate. Through a bet with some moving men, Happy drives a golf ball well over average length. This begins his route to the open. His goal is to raise money to buy his grandmother's house back, but begins to fight for the title with his hatred of Shooter McGavin (McDonald). Towards the end of the movie, after watching a great deal of cheating by Shooter and his goons, he lands a ball directly onto a large, giant of a man's foot. Out in the open, cheating cannot occur. Mr. Larson (Richard Kiel who played Jaws in the James Bond movie) makes sure that Shooter plays the ball where it lies. Because, after all, those are the rules of golf.
Despite my love of the movie for its comedy, I see a valuable lesson. Throughout the real version of golf we have mulligans. A mulligan is like a do-over. It's an extra stroke that you take after a bad shot that doesn't go on the score card. As humans, we all want mulligans. The problem is that life, just like golf, will only give you so many mulligans before they become extra strokes. People begin to say, "That's enough. You can't call out 'Mulligan' every time you suck." And let's face it, we don't want to keep taking mulligans. We want to do it right the first time. Lately I feel like I'm surrounded by golf pros that want to take mulligans all day long. With one shout it is, "To be the best you must do your best," and with the next it's, "Well that's alright let's take a mulligan." And I feel like screaming, "You can't have both!!!" Okay, that's a lot of exclamation points, but I need to make my point. I find people all over that want only the best and allow for the worst. Have you ever started an exercise program and skipped out on day two? We say things like, " I want my arms to not jiggle like jell-o." Then we find ourselves making Jell-o brand chocolate pudding because we "need" it. Which is it? Do we want to stop jiggling or stop eating what jiggles? We can't have both. I find this with parenting all too often. We hear from others how they want their kid to be the best - at anything. I hear parents wanting well behaved children, but complain that their child just won't listen without ever setting boundaries, expectations, and consequences and end up giving in to their children's whims. I hear parents wanting their children to be academically well off, yet help them every time something goes wrong. I hear parents say that their child should be a starter and never taken off the field, yet allow their child to miss practice or games for other fun things. I remember having the WORST coach in history. He was a jackass in every way possible. As I learned that he was going to be cruel to me, I decided to try harder. When that didn't work, I wanted to quit but knew I couldn't. I expected basketball to get me out of that town. Did my parents agree with the coach? NO! But they didn't go running down to the school every week to speak their distaste of his words and actions. They told me I just had to suck it up and fight. So I did. Sure, they would say things like, "He's an idiot." But they didn't tell me to not play for him. They taught me that life would suck and I needed to brace for all the junk that came my way. I played because I loved the game, not the people I was around. I could have taken a mulligan. I could have gone to a private school (yes, there was one recruiting me and offering to help with tuition costs). But running from that coach wasn't going to solve the problems that life would be throwing at me. There are times to take that mulligan. There is a time to say, "Wow, I screwed that up, let me start over." But starting your fitness program over for the 6th time in two months might be a little much. It isn't time for a second chance, it's time to stick with it, even when it is the hardest thing to do. I hate disciplining my children, but sometimes they need those consequences. My son has failed two quizzes and a test in the last month! And he's homeschooled! How does that happen? I don't know. But I know that letting him continually make poor grades is starting to motivate him to do more than just the bare minimum. He's starting to realize that studying off duty is necessary. I hate that this is what needs to happen, but it does. Nobody likes to force their kids to study. Nobody likes to watch them fail. Nobody likes to discipline their children and watch them miss out on fun things. But it is that strong spine and chin up attitude that will create the best for them. After they fail, or lose out, we can still be there for them. That is golf, isn't it? When you tee off, there are typically four players. Now, of course, people can go and play solo or in pairs, etc. It all depends on the course. No matter the number in your party, you tee off together each time. Then you walk to the nearest ball - the one furthest from the hole. They are together with the worst player of that tee. Then they continue to the closest ball. Over and over and over. Each player might take a mulligan that day. Perhaps nobody takes a mulligan or any combination between the two. Regardless they play together. The best player doesn't take a shot for the worst because they feel bad for them. And they don't allow them multiple mulligans on the hole. They play. Together. Moving forward. You might be in a place where you are taking a mulligan. That's alright. You might be giving them away. That's okay too. The key is to make your decision. Will you be playing with mulligans or not? If so, set the limit. Whether it is for you or someone you love - how many chances are there? Are you throwing the ball on the green when it really landed in the woods? That is the hardest decision to make because deep down we want to give second chances. And yet, as we grow older and wiser, we know that second chances leave people incapable of doing things themselves, growing, learning, and becoming their highest potential. Seasons are beautiful, aren't they? Well, as someone that experiences few these last years, I believe they are. Growing up I had the frigid of winter with snow, sleet, and hail. It gave way to spring with such grace. Seeing new shades of green, yellow, pink, and more freshened our souls as much as the air. We soon welcomed the sun and heat, praying that the waters of the pool would be warm enough to enter and stay without chattering teeth. And as we packed our school bags, that aroma of fall fell second to none. The crunch of leaves beneath our feet told us the days of bathing suits and tan lines were gone.
Well, I never thought I would enter a region of our country that had a season that was not taught in traditional schooling. That's right, we have hurricane season. It's a thing! Now, of course, we that live here understand that it's science and weather and pressure and heat and blah, blah, blah, that create the perfect line up for hurricanes to begin forming in the Atlantic and make their way to the good ole US of A. This is not a season you know about, or care about, until you, or someone you love, live here. Honestly, I'm shocked that this isn't taught all over the country. I would imagine Charleston would pay to have it taught in public schools in Ohio to keep the transplants (like me) out of here. And yet, here we are. We enter into a hurricane prone area without a care in the world. We are more concerned with never shoveling snow and being able to lay poolside for longer time periods to think about the bad that lays around the corner. That's just it, no place is truly perfect. You may visit and think, "Oh I love it here. I wish we could live here." But then when you move there, you find out that the hot sun that tanned you on spring break is likely to be the number two reason you refuse to leave your house. It falls a close second to the unbearable humidity that soaks your clothes before you've had the chance to create your own sweat stains. Okay, I'm rambling again. Let's get to the main point, shall we? The other day I was driving my children to dance and I noticed a man and a woman pulled partially into someone's driveway. It did not look like it was their own. They were at the edge near the road loading junks of trees into the bed of their pickup. In a moment, my eyes were open. In our neighborhood we joked that the extra greenery that had been dropped to the earth was great for the fire pits. That may be true, but the reality is that the downed wood is the heat from the fireplace for so many others. We have used our gas fireplace for warmth and lighting to keep the electric bill down plenty of times. Many homes around here have wood fireplaces. This time of damage can be used for heat, light, lower bills, and so much more. All of this had me thinking. God made sure that the hurricanes would make their destruction before the "winter" of the south. Sure, yeah, science and weather, but God created science. God created weather. The Bible teaches us that he has allowed Satan into areas and even calls him the prince of the air. And we know that he does not have full control, as Job so brilliantly shows us. He needs God's permission. What if this is God's permission of hurricanes? What if Jesus said, "Fine, you can bring storms to eastern coast of America, just do it before Thanksgiving." Look, I know this wasn't a conversation that actually occurred, but it does make you think. I think about God's timing in everything. What if Hurricane season came just after winter (or what little winter we get here)? It's been cold, dropping into the 20's and staying in the 40's. Now to finish it off, here comes a bathtub's worth of rain for each person that will flood the homes of too many to count, while the wind knocks down your trees, takes the roof off your house, and whisks in Jim Cantore. How many more people would die of hypothermia? No, instead it comes after months of grueling heat and cools the air, even if only for a few days. We can look to hurricane season - it's between summer and second summer for those that don't live in the south- as something to be feared, or an inevitable part of our life. We can tremble at the thought of multiple storms being lined up in the Atlantic, or we can say, "Now is a good time for tree removal," and save some kindling for the winter. I've seen the aftermath of hurricanes for over a decade. It never leaves me with awe and wonder. It typically leaves me thankful and grateful. Perhaps that is how that couple in the driveway felt as they loaded tree trunks. I can't say for sure that they will use it in the winter, but I saw how they could. God is with us in all things, even when destruction hits. My apologies for my rambling. I'm still just unpacking it all in my brain. If I ever take a trip across the ocean, I plan on learning at least the basics of the language. After all, I don't want to look like one of those Americans. I have heard many speak of our immigrants (legal or not) in a way that says they must speak English or get out. Well, that's not what this post is about. But it is about knowing how to speak and how to listen.
I know my kids. I know how to speak to them to get them to understand what I want them to understand. I also know how to listen and speak to what they need to hear in a certain time and situation. There is never a solid answer with kids. In this way, God knows our languages and our tones. I'm always in awe of the story of the tower of Babel. Due to man's pride, God scattered people across the lands, and each with a different speech so they could no longer communicate easily with one another. That story is only made more remarkable when paired with the Pentacost. Now, the Holy Spirit acts as an interpreter and uses man to interpret different speeches so as to better communicate. He takes it full circle from understanding to confusing, to back to capable of understanding in circumstance. Okay, those of you that know the Bible are going, "Wow, that was horribly basic in explanation and there is so much more to that than what you are letting on." I know. But for this moment, I think this is just fine. God is the God of communication. Genesis says that he used to walk the Garden of Eden with Adam. He gave Adam a wife for teamwork, communication, and companionship. There is nothing more beautiful than to communicate with God. I found it amazing that the timing of this post matched up so well- Last year during a hurricane scare, I wrote about my prayers with God and listening to his voice to guide me and my family for the safest plan in the hurricane. Many of you know that Saturdays I spend my mornings at the Summerville Farmer's Market. I sell copies of my books and make great connections. This summer has been a summer of rainy markets. If I was selling vegetables, I wouldn't mind, but paper and rain don't mix. So each week I watch the forecast. Of course, it never matters. Friday night I saw that it was supposed to rain from 5am Saturday until about 2pm. Ugh. That pretty much meant a wet and useless market. I decided not to cancel until it was closer to opening time. Saturday morning, I woke up and listened. I didn't hear any rain. I went for my typical morning run. It was slow, but at least it was happening. As I turned south on a street, I saw a flash of lightning on a cloud in the distance. Poop. Immediately after, I saw a shooting star. Woah. I felt God saying, "Don't worry. I got you." So, I prayed. "Lord, do I need to stay home from the market?" Now in the course of less than a quarter mile, I was wondering if that beautiful shooting star was really God on my side or my imagination. And my mind wouldn't shut up! My prayers were less about asking the question and more about asking God to clear my mind so I could hear him instead of my own sour voice. Finally, my mind started singing!! "Should I stay or should I go?" I went into my house feeling like a failure. Not only was I worried about whether the weather would hold up, I was also doubting my communication with God. I was frustrated that I couldn't stop my brain enough to listen. We loaded up the car anyway. I drove off to clear skies ahead. As I drove away I thought, maybe I should have just taken the shooting star like I had initially. Maybe God does, in fact, have my back today. Outside of my neighborhood, I began scanning the radio for some music. The first song that comes on is - Well, take a guess. Do it. Did you guess it? Yup, that's right. "Should I Stay or Should I Go." How cool is my GOD?! He knew in that moment to communicate with me through music as he has time and time again. I doubted because for some reason I still think that God doesn't want to meet me where I am. I can be pretty dumb sometimes. And guys, seriously, how did I miss it? God will communicate with each of us in different ways. He does it because we are not the same. He shows us just how intimately he knows each and every one of us. Perhaps we need to listen more to recognize it. |
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May 2023
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