Showing posts with label Genre- Parenting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Genre- Parenting. 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!

Tuesday, September 17, 2013

A Letter to Evan by Roy Page

Tour Date:  September 18

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):



***************************************************************************

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:

Lucid Books (April 19, 2013)

***Special thanks to Rick Roberson for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

ROY PAGE is CEO of Third Degree Advertising. He jets between North Carolina and Oklahoma to keep his business and family going. Losing his father to Alzheimer's disease and his wife of twenty years set Roy on a path to reset his priorities, discover the good in people, and dream of a better future. Laugh, cry, relate, grow, and heal with Roy in A Letter To Evan.

A 1984 graduate with a degree in marketing from the University of North Carolina at Wilmington, and with over 20 years experience working with a broad range of consumer and business-to-business clients, Page is the founder  and CEO of Third Degree Advertising with offices in Oklahoma City, OK, Durham, NC and San Diego, CA. Having served as an associate professor in advertising at the University of Oklahoma's Gaylord College of Journalism and Advertising, Page is also author of the book Credit Union Savvy, which offers a collection of insights gleaned through years of working with credit unions across the country.

These days, a great deal of Page's time is divided between Oklahoma City and his native home of Raleigh-Durham, North Carolina as his way of keeping both family and business going.  An avid sportsman and outdoors enthusiast, he especially loves spending time with his children and family on his 17-foot Boston Whaler on North Carolina's Inner and Outer Banks.

Visit the author's website.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

Divorce changes everything. It is disorienting, painful and disruptive. One dad steps forward to illustrate how to rise above the destruction of divorce, become a better person, and yes, even a better father to his children. Roy Page exposes his heart in A Letter to Evan. What began as affirmation and instruction for his son has become a journey of healing, growth, and inspiration to men everywhere.

Being a loving, effective parent when you are not a part of your child's daily life is challenging whether you are a father who travels or is divorced. Roy Page shares how he has maintained a presence in the lives of his children. As a man who enjoys hunting, fishing, sailing, and woodworking and possesses a deep desire to share these times of adventure with his son, Roy learns to navigate his extensive travel schedule along with Evan's hectic baseball schedule to find a way to connect. Even if it means writing a letter.


Product Details:
List Price: $14.99
Paperback: 208 pages
Publisher: Lucid Books (April 19, 2013)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1935909568
ISBN-13: 978-1935909569


AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

A LETTER FOR MY SON





February 6, 2011



Dear Evan:



Receiving a letter from your father in this day and age of cell phones, technology, texts and Facebook may seem strange. Perhaps it is. But I hope you can grin and bear it just this one time. . . .



Our family was caught in a boat in the open seas when an unexpected storm blew in. How had we strayed so far from the shore? Our ship wasn’t built to handle the powerful storm. It began to snap and break under the extreme pressure until a rogue wave tossed us all overboard. My son, my daughter, my wife – well my ex-wife – were all separated from me by blinding waves. I allowed my body to be carried to the waves’ crest to gain a vantage point in trying to search for them, but I was being tossed mercilessly just as they were.  With every ounce of strength committed to survival, exhaustion quickly set in. Where was hope? Where was rescue?



My storm manifested itself in the form of Alzheimer’s disease that took my father away from me long before he died, and twenty years of marriage that experienced its own slow erosion before finally being buried in divorce; and my business of fifteen years being tossed about with the rest of us, trying to stay afloat until some form of help would surface, though I didn’t know when or if rescue would actually arrive. It was the perfect storm. Despair, heartache, and tears rained.



My son was surely experiencing this violent flow. He was in the sinking vessel along with the rest of our family, but he appeared to be unfazed. For the most part he remained silent, trying to understand, and support both his mother and me. On top of that he was diagnosed with an injury that had the potential of destroying his baseball dreams. At only sixteen he was navigating a personal storm that was all his own.



I knew deep inside he was feeling more than he was saying or asking. I knew he had just as many questions as I had. But as men, we are taught to be resolute, to show little emotion, to tough it out, dig deep, and keep going. While society is starting to embrace men who cry, that isn’t really what others expect in men.



I needed to talk to Evan, but that was easier said than done. Not because he wouldn’t listen, but because I wasn’t sure I could find the right words. Many times, I’ve started conversations and left out much of what I wanted to say. Other times I’ve broached a subject, then received a look or reaction that caused me to change course. Worst of all is probably the ‘no reaction at all’ response that motivated me to turn my heart-felt conversation into a letter.



This time, it was important for me to say everything that was on my heart. There was a lot of emotion in it. Many of my emotions were not always positive toward my personal situation due to the anger that had manifested over such a confusing time; however, the emotions toward my son were all about my love for him. I wanted to choose each word carefully, express my complete thoughts and cover all of the thoughts in my heart at that time.



In writing the letter to Evan, I was also looking for the opportunity to heal a bit of my own pain and guilt. That I admit. The pain of failure in my marriage, separation from my children, and loss of life as we had known it cut deep. Guilt is a constant companion to a parent who is not with his children. It followed me everywhere.



I wrote the letter over a period of time, tucking it away in draft form, and then returning to it as more of what I wanted to say surfaced. Over the next two months, the words and thoughts continued to flow until I was finally satisfied with the words on the paper. I felt I would know when the right moment presented itself to share it with Evan. It needed to be a time when he was ready to receive the message intended only for him.



I can’t speak for everyone that endures divorce with teens in the home. I know that for me, the words in conversation never seem to come out right. There’s just too much confusion, pain, and emotion. Much is said that shouldn’t be, much is never said that should be.



Something needs to be said to calm the fears of this new unknown territory, especially for teens that have a limited perspective and limited knowledge of the years and events leading up to the demise of their families as they know them.



The experience of our family no longer being together all of the time came out of nowhere, just as thunderstorms $air up at unexpected times and with little warning. My son Evan had no real opportunity to seek shelter from the damaging, harsh elements. One day Dad was home, the next day he’d moved out. There was no warning, no conversation.



Evan was left to figure out the causes of our separation and discern on his own the meaning of recent events, based only on what he was told, his observations, and perhaps even fantasies that he himself created in his own mind. I’m sure at times he even sheltered blame and felt as if somehow he too was responsible for the breakdown in his parents’ marriage. I couldn’t bear the thought that he would feel any form of responsibility personally.



Months before I decided to write Evan a letter, I began to look for a professional and spiritual perspective to the turmoil of my life and landed in the office of Dr. Curtis Nigh. During counseling sessions, I often inquired about how to speak to my children, and particularly Evan, not because he meant more to me than his little sister, but because he was older and more insightful. He was observant and processed his environment with much more wisdom. Dr. Nigh consistently informed me that while children may not need all the details of the marital breakdown, the more information they were given about Mom and Dad’s outlooks, the easier it would be for them to cope. Also, our children needed to know they were loved and cared for by both of us. Joan and I had our problems communicating with each other. That was sure. We needed to put aside our own personal bitterness in order to protect our children’s emotional well-being.



Dr. Nigh encouraged me to open the door for Evan to ask questions or simply talk about our new reality. I often wondered, and still do, “What is Evan thinking and feeling?” I knew the uncertainty weighing on my heart and mind, so I knew he must have been feeling something also. But what was it?







One of Dr. Nigh’s recommendations was simply to provide a safe emotional environment for Evan’s expression, when and if he was ready. I would at times make a comment or pose a question that would provide Evan permission to talk, express his feelings, or ask anything he wanted. Generally, the comment or question was something in the realm of “This sure is a different Christmas than we’ve had in the past, isn’t it? What do you think about it?” Or “I know we don’t see each other as much as we used to. How are you feeling about that?”



Teenagers may say a lot to their friends, but mine would say very little to me. We’ve always been close. I’ve also always respected the privacy of Evan’s own thoughts. If he didn’t have much to say or ask, I let it go at that. He seemed stable and reassured. Ever since our separation, I’ve texted him multiple times each day and called him on his cell at least once each day.



While my phone calls weren’t always returned immediately, my texts to him were most always answered within minutes. That’s the teen way today. I had to learn to adapt to him as much as I expected him to adapt to me. (It is worth noting that we’ve both found a great balance between texting and talking.) A text may not seem to amount to much, but these short yet frequent connections made me feel more a part of his life at a time when we were physically apart. This was something I needed regularly, and I hoped it showed him that I was thinking of him and cared about him.



I’ve never been one of those fathers that didn’t hug his son or say “I love you.” Hugs and “I love you”  come very natural to me. I always end my texts with “I love you, Son.”  Since I wasn’t physically present to express it through my actions, I wanted to make sure I expressed it through my words, which was the best option both of us had at the time. When we’re away from each other, I take what I can get, when and how I can get it.



I’m sure my own need for connection with Evan was stronger than his need to connect with me. Dr. Nigh warned me that feelings of guilt may at times deceive me into believing that Evan might be experiencing the same emotional separation anxiety, when in fact Evan was doing okay. As a Methodist pastor, Dr. Nigh knew that the evil one would often surface in the form of guilt within me. Satan will use guilt as an instrument to confuse and disorient, but I should not allow him that foothold on me. I admit acting falsely out of guilt is a difficult temptation to resist. I found myself working very hard to hold back that feeling, and more importantly, keep myself from acting in haste to a perceived emotional state in Evan that was nonexistent.



By writing a letter to Evan, I could take the time I needed to embrace and filter through my emotions. While not able to remove the feelings of guilt and the anxiety of separation from him, I was able to filter through what were true emotions and the reality of the situation vs.  spontaneously  acting  on  feelings or emotions  that  were  merely  fleeting  thoughts  or worrisome flashes of fantasy. The letter allowed me to think about what I was communicating, and if it wasn’t what I wanted to truly say, then I could rewrite or edit. Perhaps  most  importantly  for  me,  it  provided  a platform for my own healing and recovery, so it was my hope that we would both find some form of benefit.

Friday, April 5, 2013

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

Tour Date: April 5th

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:

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.