Showing posts with label Genre- Motherhood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Genre- Motherhood. Show all posts

Monday, October 14, 2013

Confessions of a Wonder Woman Wannabe by Jenny Sulpizio

Tour Date: October 15th

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It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!



Today's Wild Card author is:


and the book:

Leafwood Publishers (September 10, 2013)

***Special thanks to Ryan Self for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

As a self-proclaimed (and slightly crazed) Wonder Woman Wannabe herself, Jenny Lee Sulpizio is a Christian wife and mother to three amazing kiddos. After hanging up her star-spangled bloomers (and that restrictive red corset) a few years back, Jenny now spends most of her “spare” time dishing out the latest in tips, hints, and practical advice to help guide other mommies through the trenches of motherhood. And when she isn’t cooking, cleaning, starting her latest load of laundry, or attempting to raise her kids right (as in manner-possessing, respectful, God-loving little tikes), Jenny can usually be found writing about it instead. Through her children’s books, personal website, magazine articles, blog, and as a contributing writer for the online supersite, The MOB Society, there’s always plenty of information to relate to, and a whole lot of comic relief to go around.

Visit the author's website.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

Confessions of a Wonder Woman Wannabe will provide the modern-day mommy with sanity-saving tips, advice, and hilarious real-life accounts that every Supermom can most certainly relate to, benefit from, and appreciate.  After all, the reader may not have been born with super human strength, but with God on her side, Jesus in her heart, and the Holy Spirit in her corner, she’s more than equipped to handle the daily battles that rage before her. So hold on tight, girls, as we prepare to tackle this role of motherhood together: the good, the bad, (the slightly ugly), and everything in between.


Product Details:
List Price: $14.99
Paperback: 224 pages
Publisher: Leafwood Publishers (September 10, 2013)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 089112392X
ISBN-13: 978-0891123927


AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

You’re a Mom . . . Now What?



“There is no way to be a perfect mother,

andRB a million ways to be a good one.”

—Jill Churchill





And there she lay. After forty-one-and-a-half weeks of pregnancy, and eighteen long, and rather painful—make that excruciating—hours of labor, my daughter had officially arrived. And it was at that point that I realized . . . I had absolutely no clue what I was supposed to do with her. Other than admiring that sweet, beautiful miracle, wrapped like a little burrito in her swaddling blanket and asleep in my arms, I was frighteningly devoid of my maternal instincts and just waiting for something (anything!), to kick in.

“Excuse me,” I said as I spoke into the hospital room intercom, attempting to grab the attention of one of the attending nurses. “I’m ready for my infant to be taken to the nursery now.”

There was silence on the other end.

“Hello?” I said again, maniacally pressing the button in an effort to get some attention. “Can anyone hear me? I’m pretty tired and need some assistance with getting my daughter settled for the night.”

It was at that point that I could have sworn I heard cackling in the background as the nurse dispatch seemingly collected herself, paused for a moment, and then stated, “Um, we don’t have a nursery, sweetie,” trying hard to hold back laughter. “That baby girl of yours is bunking with you tonight . . . and every night from here on out.”

Puzzled by her response and quite certain she had made a mistake, I looked at my husband in disbelief. With my hormones raging and tears welling up in my bloodshot eyes, I glanced down at my beautiful baby girl and pathetically yelped, “Help me!”

As a new mom, my mind was anxious with inexperience, as question after question on how I should mother my infant kept popping into my head: Why was this baby sleeping so long? What should I do with her if she wakes up? What happens when she has a dirty diaper? Should I ring the nurse to come and change her? In fact, where was the nurse most of the time and why wasn’t she taking care of this baby for me? Wait, why was my hospital gown all wet? Were my breasts leaking? Dear God, what was going on with my body?

And then the ultimate in negative thinking infiltrated my brain: Maybe I just wasn’t cut out for this motherhood gig after all. I mean maybe, just maybe, if I could bribe that delivery nurse to come home with me and agree to be my live-in nanny, this might all work out. After all, she did appear to have a sense of humor and definitely seemed like she’d be good with kids.

As it turns out, this “rational” plan of attack I concocted  probably wasn’t going to be the best long-term solution I needed after all, especially since bribery tends to work best when you actually have money. But hey, I was a new mommy and feeling a bit overwhelmed by the helplessness and sleep deprivation I was experiencing since that sweet blessing had arrived safely in my arms. Sure, I had been forewarned of the challenges that these first few days might present, but in all honesty, I didn’t believe they would happen to me. You see, prior to becoming a mom, I’d read book after book on how to be a great mother, how to avoid being a bad one, and everything in between. I felt prepared, confident, and ready to defy those “supposed” issues that most new mommies face: Raging hormones? Please, mine would be even-keel. Colicky baby? Pshaw! Had to be a myth. Complete and total exhaustion to the point where one’s eyelids needed to be pried open with toothpicks? Sounded like complete nonsense to me.

Yep, upon becoming a mother, it appeared that not only was I slightly delusional as to the expectations I had for myself, but it also seemed that I was suffering from a bit of naivety, a hint of denial, and was under the trance of one serious perfectionist complex already. Unbeknownst to me, my Wonder Woman Wannabe alter-ego (complete with imbalanced hormones) was taking up residence within, and the Supermom Syndrome was well underway.

“I think you just need to breathe,” my husband said.

“Breathe?” I asked quizzically, as if he were speaking a foreign language or something.

“Yeah, as in inhale, exhale, and repeat.”

“Oh, yeah . . . right,” I said. “B-R-E-A-T-H-E. Maybe I should try that.”

If only those superpowers would kick in already.



Struggling to Become “Super”

“There will be so many times you feel like you’ve failed. But RBin the eyes, heart and mind of your child you are Super Mom.”

—Stephanie Precourt



Remembering those first few months of motherhood kind of makes me cringe. Now, don’t take my words the wrong way—I was enamored of that beautiful baby I had been given, and was quite aware of how blessed I was. What I struggled with were the changes that came with being a mommy: figuring out which of my baby’s cries meant what, how the whole issue of feeding was supposed to take place, and understanding how to operate (and fully function) on three hours of sleep. In fact, I think I’m still struggling with that one.

Adjustments such as these, well, they’re all part of being a new mom. Unfortunately for me, though, I didn’t get the memo. Instead, my induction into this “maternal sorority” wasn’t the smooth transition I had originally hoped for, and those early days spent in “the motherhood” transpired a bit differently than the visions I had spent years conjuring up in my head. You see, initially, I had expectations of a well-orchestrated daily schedule comprised of pure baby bliss: maybe routine trips to the gym, long showers, and a much-needed nap or two (or three) each day. Throw in the gourmet meals I was going to whip up for my husband each night, and the spotless house I was going to regularly maintain, and I was convinced of my destiny to redefine the “super” in supermom . . . and channel my inner Wonder Woman in the process, I might add.

I’m sure you can guess what happened instead.

The truth of the matter was this: after becoming a mom, my world consisted of a constant struggle to maintain balance in my life. It was evident that all of those ambitious ideas I once possessed were totally ridiculous on my part, and the reality of my situation was that I hardly ever worked out, cooked macaroni and cheese out of the box, a lot, and detested the mere thought of cleaning my own home. I was run-down, tired, and in need of assistance. My clothes didn’t fit, my hair was a mess, and that unblemished, outward facade I once possessed was long gone. I was forced into accepting the fact that my life on this roller coaster ride of motherhood was going to require every ounce of energy I could muster, a whole lot of help from up above, . . . and maybe a serious caffeine addiction, as well.

But wait. Wasn’t this “ride” supposed to be amazing?

Amazing? Yes! Perfect? No.

Were doubts, questions, and moments of pure pandemonium going to surface?

Absolutely.

Would I become the type of mother who prayed incessantly, all the while enduring bouts of temporary insanity, a jolted confidence, and the severe testing of my patience along the way?

Odds were, likely.

Was I going to mess up from time to time, struggle with imperfection a lot, and question my parenting abilities just as often?

All signs would point to “yes.”

But who told me I needed to be perfect? And who said that my best wasn’t going to be good enough? It certainly wasn’t God. Nope, that person was me. I was a new mom struggling to become “super” . . . and I was losing the battle, big time.



So, Now What?

“Enjoy every single moment. The good, the bad, the beautiful, the ugly, the inspiring, the not-so-glamorous moments. And thank God through it all.”

—Meghan Matt



Throughout this journey, I’ve learned a thing or two, or five hundred, about parenting my clanRB. At this point in my tenure, I’m finally understanding what works, what doesn’t, and what will single-handedly drive me to the brink of insanity without hopes of ever returning. Hey, there’s no denying that motherhood is a blessing and those children of ours are without question miracles, but that doesn’t mean raising them is easy, now does it?

In fact, ever since birthing my beautiful brood, I’ve morphed into a woman that, at times, I hardly recognize. I don’t say this to scare you of course, but my mind has become pretty scattered (okay—make that seriously spacey instead). “It can’t be that bad, could it?” Well, that useless ’80s music trivia I once prided myself on knowing is now a thing of the past. Dates, names, faces, and childhood memories have seemingly retreated to somewhere in the recesses of my brain, and I’m lucky if I leave the house each morning without sporting my ensemble inside out, upside down, or displaying unsightly deodorant stains. This mom (yep, me) has been found in public on more than one occasion donning two different shoes, a bra gone AWOL, and hair that would never be categorized as cute. Those days of carrying on an adult conversation (you know—using words other than “cacaRB” and “binky”) are long gone, and instead of putting my college degrees to use, I simply have them hanging on the wall to help remind me that I even went to college at all.RB

So, now what?

Girls, I think most of us can agree that we possess the desire to become more prepared, better organized, less frazzled mothers. I myself spend a sizeable amount of time praying for more patience, less frustration, and for God to mold me into the type of mom I so desperately want to become—perhaps one whose even a little less absent-minded at times. Hey, I don’t deny that, on occasion, I’ve even prayed for God to grant me some sort of superpowers, as well. Maybe not bionic strength or x-ray vision, but perhaps an extra arm or two for multi-tasking purposes, the ability to turn back time after a not-so-great mommy meltdown, the option to clone myself so I can be in ten different places at once, or simply the power to be everything to everyone during every moment of everyday (without collapsing in utter exhaustion).

Ahh, the life of a Wannabe is never boring, is it?

You, too, might be in search of easier ways to accomplish specific tasks and complete those unending errands. And you might also be a mom who finds herself stuck in a routine that she just can’t work her way out of.  Like you, I wanted to be more structured. I wanted to be more prepared. I wanted less stress in my life and more time for those memorable mommy moments I was craving with my youngins’.

I wanted all of these things and more, but didn’t know where to start or how to begin decoding the mystery of motherhood.

After all, there are no cheat sheet or crib notes we can reference. The manual I was in desperate need of to help me figure out how to do this role of mine—broken down by age and gender, and inclusive of all those unexpected surprises that would most certainly pop up on this journeyRB—just didn’t exist. But through my experience, and inexperience, I began to glean some valuable insight into this role. I found that the unexpected should be expected. I finally began to understand and appreciate what the concept of true patience really meant, and that being present day in and day out in the lives of my children, and loving them with my whole heart, was the most important thing I could do for them. I learned all of these things and more through ups and downs, highs and lows (a nervous breakdown or two…kidding, of course), and ultimately, through divine intervention.

But enough chit-chat already, right? Let’s get started by providing you with the information you’re looking for. After all, this guide is in your hands in order to give you tips you’ll need to make your life easier. And it’s been written to give you the practical advice you’re searching for, with the Christian foundation that’s necessary.



The Three Basic Rules of Motherhood

So, what are the three basic rules of motherhood that every Wonder Woman Wannabe should know?

I’m so glad you asked.



1. Expect the unexpected.

I’ll be honest in stating that I haven’t always been a prepared mom. In fact, there have been plenty of times where I have jumped in the car, kids in tow, only to forget some pretty important necessities. You know—items that no mother should be without?  We’re talking diapers, wipes, jackets (in the dead of winter), my cell phone, shoes—of all things, how does one forget shoes—and the list goes on and on. You name it and I have forgotten it, because I have failed to take the necessary steps in preparing myself in advance.

It’s in those times that I seriously think my mommy card should be revoked.

But in order to stave off stress and avoid embarrassment, we need to be uber-organized, prepared mommies. If you haven’t heard this before, I’m telling you now: preparation is key when it comes to being a mom. Whether it be packing your kiddos diaper bag the night before in order to avoid the last-minute, early-morning scuffle or simply making a list to remind yourself of your child’s necessities, being prepared is vital to your sanity and overall well-being. Want to make sure you’re prepared for when the unexpected happens to you? How about trying these tips on for size.

Make a list: Now, I’m a Capricorn by birth, which means that I am a maker of all things list-like. Is that even a word? No, seriously, if there’s a list to be made for any reason at all, I’m the gal making one. And my advice to you would be to do the same. Keep a journal, a daily planner, or whatever else will help you stay on task and be more organized. Go ahead, make a list (and check it twice if need be), in order to keep on top of your chores, errands, or any other type of thought in need of jotting down. Believe me—you’ll be glad you did!

Maintain a schedule: I absolutely must keep track of my appointments, and any other event I’m scheduled to make some sort of appearance at, or they become completely lost in the recesses of my brain. I’m a mom, I’ve had kids, and that means my memory is shot (we’ve been over this before). It’s a given. But part of being prepared for day-to-day endeavors is knowing where you have to be, at what time, and for how long. This requires a bit of planning and some organization. Use your cell phone calendar to keep on task, or establish a wall calendar at home so your spouse, kids, and anybody else interested in your monthly activities can be “in the know.” Keeping an up-to-date schedule is a huge sanity saver, girls!

Get help: I am a mom of three. I’ll let you do the math here, but since there is only one of me and three of them, this would indicate that I am severely outnumbered when it comes to my mothering duties. I need help. In fact, I need a lot of help. Confessing this doesn’t make me weak, nor does it make me less of a mom . . . it simply makes me aware of the fact that I need assistance (and that I should never RBbe too proud to ask for it). Do yourselves a favor, moms and employ neighbors, friends, in-laws, parents, or whoever else can help you as often as possible. Help is often times needed . . . and usually just a phone call away.



2. A little patience, please.

Who else out there finds themselves quick-tempered and easily frustrated? I’ve got both of my hands held high on this question and will be the first to admit that part of the problem with me resides in the fact that I no longer think like a kid. I think like an adult instead, and expect my kids to think (and act) the same way that I do.

But as Mark Merrill once stated, “Patience is choosing to control your emotions rather than letting your emotions control you.”

Hey, our kids are going to make mistakes. They’re human. At times, they’re going to do things that make absolutely no sense at all, in this lifetime or any other. They’re going to act out, behave poorly, throw tantrums, and embarrass the heck out of us, because guess what? They’re kids, and the whole concept of good behavior just so happens to be a learned one. It’s how we respond to those crazy situations that make all the difference. Yelling and screaming won’t get you anywhere (believe me, I’ve tried), but controlling your tongue, using reason instead, and implementing the use of prayer most definitely will. When your patience is all but gone, try a few of these tips to help you keep your cool.

Count to ten . . . or eighty: For me, ten seconds won’t cut it. In order to calm my temper and reach that happy place within once again, I shoot for eighty seconds instead. Take some deep, calming breaths and try to breathe your way through the frustration. Remember those Lamaze breathing methods you once used to deliver you’re now tantrum-throwing toddler? Time to brush off those birthing manuals and bust out those techniques all over again. Breathe away that frustration and keep your cool when tempers threaten to rage. It’s worth a try, right?

Pray: In fact, pray like you’ve never prayed before. I find it helpful to sound off in the middle of my frustration: “Lord, help me now, because (enter child’s name here) is trying my patience. I need you to let him know that I can’t take it anymore. Will you please help (speak child’s name here, once again) to become a sweet, loving, and respectful child? You know, the kind of gentleman (or young lady) you call him to be? Lord, hear my prayer. Amen.”

   Hey, God knows when you’re about to flip your lid, and He’s aware of how trying His little creations can be. So, seek Him out for help anytime you’re being tested and your sanity is in question. Better yet, ask God for help first and go to Him always . . . and often.

Keep calm and carry on: I feel like this phrase was written especially for me. Keep this saying close to your heart, fresh on your mind, and maybe plaster it somewhere in your home as a reminder when times get tough—because frustration is inevitable when you’re a mommy, which means we had better find ways to deal with it appropriately, amen? Keep calm girls . . . breathe, pray, relax, repeat.



3. Be there or be square

Life can get pretty crazy at times—as in the out-of-control, coo-coo type of crazy. Time speeds by much too quickly. I often find myself anxiously wondering how in the heck my children grew to their current ages and how soon their sweet childhoods will be but memories (ones I hope I’ll be able to remember, that is). It’s downright scary. All those efforts to freeze time have failed miserably. But even if we mamas can’t stop the clock, we do possess the power to make the most of the time we have by enjoying our children purposely, willfully, with our whole hearts, and with 100 percent of our attention. Being present means being deliberate in everything we do with our kiddos. It means refusing to allow the mindless, monotonous jobs of motherhood—cooking, cleaning, laundering, and so on—to consume us. Instead, we focus on the larger picture ahead by not getting wrapped up in the small, meaningless stuff. Confused? Let me clarify:

Together time: Set aside a period each day to spend intentional time with your kids. Read together before bed, watch a favorite family television show, talk about the day’s events, play a board game, or better yet, spend some much-needed time in Scripture. No matter what you do, make these designated moments of the day routine for your child. You know, a portion of the day they can count on and look forward to spending with you.

Listen up: As a mom, my mind just happens to always be in motion. Whether it’s trying to remember if I turned the Crock-Pot on this morning or whether I failed to turn the curling iron off, my brain is never at rest. Come to find out, my children are the same way. But rather than keeping their thoughts to themselves, they’d much rather express them . . . every single one of them, out loud and all of the time. As moms, we need to listen to our kiddos. We need to turn off our minds and turn on our ears. It doesn’t matter if our kids don’t make sense or if the vocabulary they’re using doesn’t exactly equate to English.  They feel happy, secure, and safe enough to share with us all that’s going on in that brain of theirs, and their begging for a captive audience. So, let’s make a concerted effort to place our thoughts on hold as we intentionally listen to what their young minds have to say. Because chances are, if we don’t pay attention now, they won’t give us the time of day later.

Limit technology: Cell phones, computers, tablets, and other technological devices that have made their way into our lives are also the instruments currently stripping us from valuable time with our families and loved ones. I’m just as guilty as anyone else of letting these electronic contraptions invade my life. Try curbing your use of these devices, especially when at home, and tend to your social media needs well after they’ve gone to bed.



If only motherhood were this easy though, right? If only these simple practices mentioned above could be the answers to all of our questions and the solutions to all of those mommy dilemmas. But keep in mind: this is only Chapter One, girls. Hang on tight, have no fears, and keep on reading.





A number of sites had this quote with “and”

http://www.tumblr.com/tagged/jill%20churchill



http://www.searchquotes.com/quotation/There_is_no_way_to_be_a_perfect_mother,_and_a_million_ways_to_be_a_good_one/232988/

Punctuation found at this site and others.



http://www.flickr.com/photos/kirangosu/8338913627/

Might consider saying "can of #." Since the first story started off with the experience of your firstborn, readers might be interested to see the "then and now" big picture.

Consider changing to "poopy" or some other version of caca. Funny enough, in my house, that would was a no-no to use growing up.  :)

I would suggest "stinky" as well, but then you'd have rhyming words.

Mine never even made it to "wall status." They're tucked in my closet next to a heating pad. Very sad.

This one word seems to convey what you're getting at, and avoids the awkward phrasing. Okay change?

Some of us (me!) still struggle with this on a daily basis. Using "should" may help remind us stubborn moms that we need to find humility in this area. That includes being willing to call our mother-in-laws for kid-pickup when we're down to one car. RGG!

Sunday, April 28, 2013

Psalm 91 for Mothers by Peggy Joyce Ruth


Tour Date: April 30. 2013

When the tour date arrives, copy and paste the HTML Provided in the box. Don't forget to add your honest review if you wish! PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT ON THIS POST WHEN THE TOUR COMES AROUND!


Grab the HTML for the entire post (will look like the post below):



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It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!



Today's Wild Card author is:


and the book:

Charisma House (March 5, 2013)

***Special thanks to Althea Thompson for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:


Peggy Joyce Ruth and her husband, Jack, are former pastors from Brownwood, Texas. Peggy has taught an adult Bible study each week at her church for the past thirty years. She is a popular conference speaker and continues to teach a weekly radio Bible study called Better Living on KPSM and KBUB.


Visit the author's website.


SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

In Psalm 91 for Mothers, Peggy Joyce Ruth takes the concept from her best-selling book Psalm 91 and applies it to her personal experience as a mother and grandmother. With compelling, emotional stories from her life and the lives of others who have been touched by this psalm, she guides you through a personal study, explaining verse by verse God’s promises of protection, provision, and blessing for your children.


Product Details:
List Price: $12.99

Paperback: 192 pages
Publisher: Charisma House (March 5, 2013)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1616387343
ISBN-13: 978-1616387341


AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:


Where Is My Dwelling Place?

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will abide in the shadow of the Almighty. —Psalm 91:1
Think for just a minute of where, more than anyplace else in the world, you like to be when you want to feel protected and peaceful. I remember when I was a little girl and would wake up in the middle of the night and feel frightened. I would tiptoe down to my mother and dad’s room and very quietly slip in bed with them. As I lay there—silently listening to them breathe and feeling all cozy and protected—before I knew it, the fear was gone, and I would be sound asleep.

I am sure you can think of something that represents security to you personally. When I think of security and protection, I have a couple of childhood memories that automatically come to mind. My dad was a large, muscular man who played football during his high school and college years, but he interrupted his education to serve in the military during World War II. Mother, who was pregnant with my little brother, and I lived with my grandparents in San Saba while Dad was in the service. As young as I was, I vividly remember one ecstatically happy day when my dad unexpectedly opened the door and walked into my grandmother’s living room. Before that eventful day I had been tormented with fears because some neighborhood children had told me I would never see my dad again. Like kids telling a ghost story, they taunted me that my dad would come home in a box. When he walked through that door that day, a sense of peace and security came over me and stayed with me for the rest of his time in the army.

My Father, Albert Crow
It was past time for my baby brother to be born, and I found out when I was older that Dad’s outfit at the time was being relocated by train from Long Beach, California, to Virginia Beach, Virginia. The train was coming through Fort Worth, Texas, on its way to Virginia, so my dad caught a ride from Fort Worth to San Saba in the hopes of seeing his new son. He then hitchhiked until he caught up with the train shortly before it reached Virginia Beach. The memory of his walking into that room still brings a feeling of peaceful calm to my soul. In fact, that incident set the stage for later seeking the security a heavenly Father’s presence could bring.

When I think of dwelling in the shelter of God, I have another childhood memory that always comes to mind. My parents would often take my younger brother and sister and me to a lake. There was a wonderful place to fish for perch that very few people knew about, and we children loved to perch fish. It was such a thrill to see the cork begin to bobble and then suddenly go completely out of sight. There were very few things that I liked better than jerking back on that old cane pole and landing a huge perch. Dad had a good reason for having us catch those perch. They were what he used for bait on the trotline that he had stretched out across one of the secret coves at the lake.

Dad and family on fishing trip
Dad would drive the boat over to the place where his trotline was located. Then he would cut off the boat motor and inch the boat across the water as he ran the trotline. That’s what he called it when he would hold onto to the trotline with his hands and pull the boat alongside all the hooks he had baited in hopes that he had caught a big catfish. A trotline was like having about twenty-five fishing poles baited and placed all the way across the lake.

I loved to perch fish, but it was an even greater thrill when Dad would get to a place where the trotline rope would begin to jerk almost out of his hand. That meant he had hooked a fish. It was then that all three of us children would watch, wideeyed, as Dad wrestled with that line until finally, in victory, he would flip that huge catfish over the side of the boat, right at our feet. Money could never buy that kind of excitement! The circus and a carnival all rolled up into one couldn’t give us that kind of a thrill.

One of those outings proved to be more exciting than most, turning out to be an action-packed experience that I will never forget. It had been a beautiful day when we started out, but by the time we finished our perch fishing and were headed toward the trotline, everything changed. A storm came up on the lake so suddenly there was no time to get back to the boat dock. The sky turned black, lightning was flashing, and drops of rain were falling so hard that they stung our skin when they hit. Then, moments later, we were in the middle of a hailstorm with large, marble-sized hail.

I could see the fear in my mother’s eyes, and I knew we were in danger. But before I had time to wonder what we were going to do, Dad had driven the boat to the rugged shoreline of the only island on the lake. There are many boat docks that surround the island now, but back then it looked like an abandoned island with absolutely no place to take refuge from the storm. In just moments Dad had us all out of the boat and ordered the three of us to lie down beside our mother on the ground. Quickly pulling a canvas tarp out of the bottom of the boat, he knelt down on the ground beside us and pulled that tarp up over all five of us. That storm raged outside the homemade tent he had made—the rain beat down, the lightning flashed, and the thunder rolled. But all I could think about was how it felt to have his arms around us. There was a certain peace that is hard to explain as we lay there under the protection of the shield my father had provided. In fact, I had never felt as safe and secure in my entire life. I can remember thinking that I wished the storm would last forever. I didn’t want anything to spoil the wonderful security I felt that day—there in our secret hiding place. Feeling my father’s strong, protective arms around me, I wanted it to never end.

Although I have never forgotten that experience when we were fishing at the lake, today it has taken on new meaning. Just as Dad put a tarp over us to shield us from the storm, our heavenly Father has a secret place in His arms that protects us from the storms that are raging in the world around us.

Fear is running rampant in the world today. Even children who have the security of a home filled with the love of a mother and father cannot help but sense the growing anxiety that is plaguing our schools, our streets, our newspapers, and our televisions. Suicides are becoming a common occurrence. But did you know that this place in God is real for anyone who wants to seek refuge in Him? It is a literal place of physical safety and security that God tells us about in this Psalm 91.

This secret place is literal, but it is also conditional! In verse 1 of Psalm 91 God lists our part of the condition before He even mentions the promises included in His part. That’s because our part has to come first. To abide in the shadow of the Almighty, we must first choose to dwell in the shelter of the Most High.

The question is, how do we dwell in the security and shelter of the Most High? It is more than an intellectual experience. This verse speaks of a dwelling place in which we can be physically protected if we run to Him. You may utterly believe that God is your refuge, and you may give mental assent to it in your prayer time, but unless you actually get up and run to the shelter—you will never experience it. I call that place of refuge a love walk!

Most children have a secret hideout where they feel all safe and secure, hidden away from the whole world. They need to be taught, however, that those places where they feel protected are nice, but a hideout cannot keep them safe from everything. It will be life changing, however, when they are told that there is a place of shelter that will keep them protected from every evil this world has ever known. What a treasure you are leaving them when you teach them that God says He is a place of real safety from any bad thing they can think of in the whole earth—if they will run to Him. And how do they run to God? They don’t run there with their feet. They run to God with their heart! They need to be taught that they are running to God every time they think about Him—every time they tell the Lord that they love Him.

Cullen and Meritt
When our grandchildren Cullen and Meritt were young, they would often stay the night with us. The moment they finished breakfast, each would run to his own secret place to spend some time talking with God. Cullen found a place behind the couch in the den, and Meritt headed behind the lamp table in the corner of our bedroom. Those places became very special to them.

Where is your secret place? Everyone needs the security and shelter of a secret place with the Most High.

Friday, April 5, 2013

The Christian Mama's Guide to the First School Years by Erin MacPherson

Tour Date: April 5th

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It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!



Today's Wild Card author is:


and the book:

Thomas Nelson (April 9, 2013)

***Special thanks to Erin MacPherson for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

 Erin MacPherson is a mom of three who never does anything halfway. When she discovered she was pregnant she decided to write about it—but then kept writing. A former staff writer and editor for Nickelodeon, Erin now entertains parents on her personal blog as well as through freelance magazine articles, devotionals and speaking. She wants to come beside her readers not only as a confidant and Christian sister, but also as a best girlfriend who understands what daily life is all about.

Visit the author's website.


SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

The Christian Mama's Guide to the First School Years: Prepares moms for the time when their school-aged kids take their first few steps into the world and away from mama's nest.

Sending a child off to school is a whole lot more than stocking up on school supplies and packing a (somewhat) healthy lunch. This helpful guidebook walks Christian moms through:

  • discovering a long-term vision for the person that Christ has purposed for your child to become
  • instilling a sense of "who I am and where I came from" in your child
  • choosing a school for your kids
  • helping your kids to develop key attributes—courage, kindness, perseverance—that lead to success in school
  • dealing with teachers, sports, and lessons
  • navigating those difficult conversations that will come sooner rather than later
  • a special feature includes sidebars "From the Principal's Office" with insights from a 35-year elementary school principal and educator

Moms will learn how to cover their children in prayer so that their launch into the world, and away from her control, is done with grace and wisdom—helping them grow into the men and women God intended them to be.



Product Details:
List Price: $15.99

Paperback: 208 pages
Publisher: Thomas Nelson (April 9, 2013)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0849964768
ISBN-13: 978-0849964763



AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:


Introduction

Into the Big, Wide (and Sometimes Scary) World



Whoever created the drop-off policy at my son Joey's elementary school had clearly never met a newbie kindergarten mom.  Because when the letter outlining first-day drop off instructions arrived in the mail along with his school supply list, I started to hyperventilate.  Okay, so I might be exaggerating, but I certainly had a momentary panic where I considered whiting out my son's birth date on his birth certificate and keeping him home another year.

The letter was short and sweet.



Dear Parents,

In an effort to ensure the safety of our students on the first day of school, we ask that you drop all kids off by the front doors and then continue to exit through the west parking lot.  We will have teachers and student leaders available to escort new kindergarten students through the doors and into the cafeteria where their teachers will be waiting.  We ask that you please do not park your car in order to walk your child into the school . . .



That's all I had to read for the panic to start.  My son—my baby!—had to walk from my car and into the big, wide school all by himself.  All.  By.  Himself.  What if his backpack was too heavy?  Or what if a big bad fifth grader bullied him as he walked in?  (I hear those big kids are getting bigger every year.)  I mean, the potential crises that could result in those ten steps between my car and the school were enough to make my heart start a-racin'.  He could stub his toe as he walked through the threshold, for goodness’ sake, and spend the entire day in toe-stubbed misery.  This was not good.  Not good at all.

As terrible scenarios raced through my mind, my husband had to restrain me from picking up the phone and calling the school to complain.  He reminded me that schools make policies like that for a reason.  And usually that reason was because of over-panicky parents like me.  Okay, he didn't say that.  But I could tell he was thinking it.

On the Saturday before school started, we drove to the school and practiced.  (I know, I know.  Overachiever mom.  Or maybe it's overprotective mom.)  I pulled up in front of the school and let Joey unbuckle himself, grab his backpack, and walk those ten big steps to the door.  He did it five times—just for good measure—and once I was confidant that he was going to manage just fine without stubbing his toe, we left.

And on Monday, I put on my bravest face.

I scrubbed Joey's face and combed his hair.  I made pancakes for breakfast and arranged blueberries in the shape of a smiley face on top.  I lovingly packed his lunch and wrote him a little note just to say how much I adored him (because I figured he’d be reading by lunchtime, he’s super smart).  I took at least ten thousand pictures before I loaded him into the car.  And I put those keys in the ignition and headed toward the school while trying to control the tears that threatened to start rolling down my face.

As we pulled up to the school, I pasted a smile on my face as I turned to my baby-turned-big boy and said "This is it, Joey!  I'm so proud of you!  I love you."

And he was off.

Confidently taking those first ten steps into the big, wide world.

I watched him taking every single one of those steps in my rearview mirror with tears streaming down my face.  Tears of joy.  Tears of sadness.  And tears of hope.  And I prayed that as we all made this big—no, monumental—transition of starting school, that I could handle it with courage, grace, and a giant sprinkling of Christlike love.

Sending your baby off into the big, wide world is bittersweet.  It's exciting.  Your kid now has the chance to make a stand—a stand for who he is, what he believes in, and what he wants to be.  But it's also sad.  Your baby is growing up.  And while this is certainly not the end of your time as a mom—you can go ahead and trust me that your mom skills will be tested in the year to come as they’ve never have been before—it's the end of an era of sorts.  And as you move out of the preschool era, you get to move into the big-kid era.

An era when your kid will grow and learn more than you ever imagined.

An era when your kid will (hopefully) solidify his trust in Christ.

An era when your kid will learn what faith and grace and hope truly mean.

And as you make this transition, I want to come beside you to share my stories.  My struggles.  My over-panicky moments.  So that you, too, can send your kid off into the big, wide world with the confidence he needs to thrive.



A note for my particularly scrupulous readers:  You may notice that all of the pronouns in this book are male.  This was a decision made by my editors and I in order to keep the copy simple and consistent.  It in no way means that that this book is more applicable to boys or that I intended the tips and advice in this book to be just for boys.  So, if you happen to have a daughter (like I do), please mentally substitute "her" for "him" and "she" for "he" as you read.  And then write a very serious letter to whoever invented the English language letting them know how much easier our lives would be if pronouns weren't gender specific.


Chapter 1



Getting into the Big-Kid-Mama Groove

Surviving and Thriving as You Transition into the Grade School Years



It's a little bit ironic that the first time (ever) that Joey slept past 6:00 a.m. was on his first day of kindergarten.

During Joey's toddler and preschool years, I had literally tried every possible strategy to get Joey to sleep in.  We begged.  We pleaded.  We bribed him with chocolate chip pancakes on any day that he slept past seven.  Which never happened.  We even got one of those "Okay to Wake" clocks that glowed when it was okay for him to get up, which only resulted in him waking me up at five a.m. to check and see "if the clock was still working."  It was.

Anyway, by the time Joey turned five, I had given up on turning him into a late sleeper.  We made a rule that he had to stay in bed—reading or whatnot—until the sun came up.  If he wanted to wake up at o'dark thirty and just lay there, then that was his prerogative.  And so he did, morning after morning, month after month, year after year.  Until that hot day in August when he had to go to school for the first time.  On that day, he decided to sleep in.  In fact, I had to drag him out of bed by 6:30 to make sure we made it to school on time.

The next day, he slept in again.

And on that Saturday morning, he slept until eight.  Eight in the morning!  And as he trudged down the stairs in all his bedheaded glory, he announced to me that now that he was in kindergarten, he was going to start sleeping like a teenager.  (Because, in case you're wondering, teenagers sleep until eight.  Or something like that.)

I hate to be the one to break the news to you, but your kid is growing up. And that means your parenting is going to have to grow up a bit too.  You probably no longer have to worry that your kid is going to wake up at 4:42 a.m. and dump Cheerios all over your bed.  Or have a potty accident at playgroup.  Or have a meltdown in the middle of the Target aisle. (Unless, of course, a sugar-low coincides with a sale on sticker books, in which case all bets are off.)

Big-kid parenting is just different from baby or toddler parenting.  Where before you were vigilant, now you have to be strategic.  And where before you were black-and-white, now you can start to add some color to your parenting.  You can add some orange ideas here and a bright turquoise discipline choice there.  And before long, you'll discover a whole rainbow of possibilities with your big kid.  Okay, enough with the cheesy metaphors—I'm sure you get it.  Your kid is bigger.  And that means you have to start parenting bigger too. I've written this book to help you do exactly that.  But first, here are a few tricks and tips to help you get into the big-kid-mama groove.



How to Get into the Big-Kid-Mama Groove [[A head]]

1. Think before you act. [[B head]]

Back in your toddler-mama days, you had to think fast.  Because if you didn't make a diving leap in front of your kid as he walked toward the mud puddle, he was certainly going to find a way to get every drop of water from that puddle into some place that it didn't belong.  But now your kid is a big kid.  And with that comes a measure of security.  You probably don't have to worry that he's going to touch the hot coals in the fireplace or smear sweet potato puree onto the underside of the couch cushions.  And, that security buys you time to think a bit before you act.  Nothing is as pressing as it was when your kid was small.

So what exactly does more-thinking, less-reacting parenting look like?  It means instead of jumping to reprimand or reward your kid, you spend some time thinking about the best way to approach each situation.  And—even more important—you allow your kid to spend time contemplating the best approach to each and every situation as well.  So instead of jumping to your kid's rescue when he's struggling to figure out how to put together his Legos, allow him the space to ask for help.  And when he misbehaves, don't intervene immediately, but allow both of you some time to cool off and consider things.  Because the more you allow yourself—and your kid—to think, the more he's going to learn and grow.



2.  Lean on God more than ever.  [[B head]]

Letting go is hard.  Remember that story I told you in the introduction about the day I dropped Joey off at kindergarten for the first time?  What I didn't tell you is that after I pulled out of that parking lot, I had to pull my car over because I was crying so hard that I couldn't see.  I sat there on the side of the road—within view of the school—and sobbed for a good twenty minutes.  Because my baby took my heart with him as he walked into that school.

My motherly instinct is to hold on—to cling to my children as if they are mine to hold and protect.  And while I know that God's purposes for my children require independence, my mother's heart still needs some convincing.  Because when my eyes see big kids—kids who are ready to face the big, wide world and all that comes with it—my heart still sees those tiny, precious babies that I once cradled in my arms.  Tiny babies who have grown up way too fast.

I know that I still have a lot more letting go to do—I can't even imagine the tears I will shed when my tiny babies move on to middle school and then high school and—I don't even want to think about it—college.  But now, while each tiny step feels like a rite of passage of its own, I'm learning to lean on Christ more than I ever have before. I cannot fulfill my job as a mother by clinging to my own understanding—because my human emotions and desires stand in the way of God's bigger picture.  And only by turning to Christ will I teach my children that they, too, can turn to him as they grow.



3.  Rely on prayer. [[B head]]

I'm a fixer.  If I could, I'd like to pave the road for my kids with rainbows and cotton balls so that if they ever hit a snag, they'll land on a cuddly cloud of softness.  (I’m sure Joey will love it when I talk like that when he's a teenager.  Especially in front of his friends.)  Anyway, when Joey mentioned to me one day last year that a kid in his class—let's call him Mr. Meanie Pants—had called him a "wimp" at school and refused to play with him at recess, I wanted to call up Mr. Meanie Pants’ mom and tell her exactly what I thought of her kid's bully tactics.  That'd teach him to mess with my kid.

But I didn't call because I knew that part of growing up is learning to do things on your own.  Well, that and I didn't have Mr. Meanie Pants’ mom's phone number.  Instead, I prayed.  I prayed that God would give Joey the insight to stand up for what is right.  I prayed that Joey would learn how to discern right from wrong on the playground without becoming a bully or a victim.  I prayed that I would know the words to say to help him learn important attributes like courage and kindness and respect.

I honestly don't know what happened with Mr. Meanie Pants.  I have a feeling that by the time they hit the playground on the next day, both kids had probably forgotten about the incident and had moved on.  Because Joey never mentioned Mr. Meany Pants again in a negative light.

I have to say that the incident with Mr. Meany Pants taught me a valuable lesson.  (And no, it wasn't that playground politics should be left on the playground, although that's important too.)  I learned that while my mama-bear instincts might tell me to toss gumdrops and lollipops at my kids in order to make sure their days are happy, my Christian instinct should always be to turn toward prayer.  Because while I won't always be able to fix things for my kids, I can always rely on God to stand in the gap for them.



4.  Make quality time a priority. [[B head]]

Once your kid starts school, those easy-breezy days when you had nothing to do but sit around in your pajamas and read the same stories over and over and over are, well, over.  And I'm telling you this because I know how much people love it when I state the obvious.  But also because I want to save you the embarrassment that will certainly come when your kid shows up at school and tells his teacher that he spent his summer eating Captain Crunch out of the box because "mommy didn't have time to wash the spoons."

Schooling takes time—and whether you send your kid to school or homeschool, the amount of free time you have to just hang out with your kid will certainly decrease.  But I'm a quality over quantity type of person.  I mean, think about it: would you rather have a whole bag of M&Ms or one really amazing piece of rich, expensive dark chocolate?  Okay, forget that analogy because the obvious answer is both.  But my point is that even if you don't have a ton of time with your kid, you can still make that time count.

One thing I do is set aside after-school snack time as "us" time.  I whip up a from-scratch batch of chocolate chip cookies—okay, I feed him Goldfish crackers—and spend a half hour talking to him about his day.  I also try to do something fun as a family each weekend—go on a bike ride or go bowling—so there is something non-school and non-chore related that we can do together at least once every week.  Whatever we're doing, I make it a point to spend quality time with my kids every day.
Ready, Set, Invest [[Ahead]]

Throughout this book I hope to give you tips, ideas, and strategies to go beyond simply parenting your kids.  Because I know that's simply not enough.  Instead, I want to help you invest in your kid's Christian heritage—not their future success, their academic achievement, or that football scholarship that you're hoping for—but in who your kids are in Christ.  Because the truth is, that as you send your kid out into the big, wide world, your ultimate goal is not that your kid will learn to stand on her own two feet but, instead, to learn to stand on the Rock.



[[ INSERT SIDEBAR HERE]]



Time-out for Mom

For When You’re Preparing Your Heart to Send Your Kids Out into the World



“Know therefore that the Lord your God is God; he is the faithful God, keeping his covenant of love to a thousand generations of those who love him and keep his commandments.” (Deuteronomy 7:9)



Heavenly Father, I am so grateful for your faithfulness!  I know that you have a covenant of love with your children, and that is such a comfort to me!  I am scared right now, Lord.  I am getting ready to send my baby away from the shelter of my nest and into the world.  Guide my words and my actions, Lord, so that I can prepare my child to be a servant, a disciple, and a follower of you.  Help him to shine bright in a dark world so that your love will be evident through everything he does.  Amen.



[[end sidebar]]



10 Things to Remember as You Send Your Kid Off into the Big, Wide World [[A head]]

There's a reason that glitter glue and baby wipes were on your school supply list.  And it's the same reason that you shouldn't send your kid to school in the $80 blouse that your mother-in-law got her for Easter.
Make your kid memorize the following:  I will bring my lunch box home from school every day. Because there's a hard-and-fast rule at my house that mommy doesn't pick moldy carrot sticks out of lunch boxes.
Your kid may say he understands the book checkout system in the library.  He may even think he understands the book checkout system in the library.  But you should probably go over it again before the next class library day.  Because twenty confused kids equals one frustrated librarian and the chance that your kid won't be able to check out the new Fly Guy book until next week.
"Because I said so" is a perfectly acceptable answer to the question, "Why can't I bring my pet lizard to school?"  But that doesn't mean your big kid won't try to find out why exactly it's such a bad idea for himself.
The desire to be clean apparently must develop post-elementary school.  So that battle you've been doing to get your kid to bathe, well, it will continue for the foreseeable future.
It's still okay to kiss your kid goodbye.  Just do it quickly before his friends see.
Even if your kid can read to himself now, she will still love it when you read him a bedtime story.
Just because you pack kale chips and a sprouted hummus sandwich in your kid's lunch, doesn't mean he's going to eat it.  Chances are—smarty pants that he is—he'll find a way to swindle the girl next to him out of her Twinkie by saying that his quinoa bake is "a princess pie."
Your kid is watching you.  And that means that your little meltdown over the fact that daddy is coming home late again will not only be stored in his little brain under "appropriate ways to react when frustrated," but will also probably be reported in full detail to his teacher, friends, and guidance counselor tomorrow.
Your kid may be a big kid, but he still needs his mommy.  Make room for those gangly legs on your lap and give your kid the time and space just to be with you.  Because no kid is ever too big for mommy snuggles.  Except for maybe a teenager.