parenting Archives - Page 2 of 3

Finding Your Own Voice

Post author:Gina B
Post published:April 4, 2016
Post category:identity loved parenting

Finding Your Own Voice Thank God for those mint green Converse shoes.

Do you know what they mean to me? The fact that you wanted them means you are learning to know your own mind. My girl, who so often fears choices because they might not be “right,” you knew that you wanted those.

And then you wanted to wear them with your dress. Your words were, “it’s just like those movies where the girls aren’t girly girls, so they wear shoes with dresses.”

Yeah, it is. Let’s pull out Pretty in Pink and Some Kind of Wonderful, although probably you’re thinking of something else since those are my movies, not yours. My heart skipped a little just seeing you own who you are.

All your life, this is what I have wanted for you – that you would know yourself and claim it. That you would see that how He has made you is so very, very good. That you would love how He made you a bundle of sweet, heartbreaking empathy and tough, play through the hurt grit. He made you to love puppies and hate pink. He made you sweet and sassy.

I know that in the age you are, you have so much pressure to be what others want you to be in order to fit in. It might just be a pair of Converse (that we scored on a sweet sale), but to me, it’s an answer to prayer, that you would learn to express who you are and know that it is good.

I am so glad that in the midst of all the voices, you are finding your own.

Hopes for My Daughter, On Turning 13

Promises to My Children

Our Inside Out Moment

Post author:Gina B
Post published:March 7, 2016
Post category:grief loved parenting

It started out rough, but it ended well, that day on the field. In fact, it called to mind a moment from Inside Out.

If you’ve seen the movie, you know there was a pivotal moment that formed one of the main character, Riley’s, core memories. It was the memory of her hockey team gathered around her cheering. What we learned later in the movie is that the moment happened because there were coming to cheer her up after a loss that crushed her. Here’s how it happened for us:

Our daughter’s soccer team played in the first of a series of three weekend tournaments a week ago. In order to progress to the next weekend, her team had to win their group of 4. I wrote the details of their weekend in my previous post. Suffice to say, they didn’t win.

My sweet girl met me after the game and promptly burst into tears. As I hugged her, she cried about how she had played poorly (not true) and how this meant they were out. I tried to remind her that everyone makes mistakes, it was a team effort, they played well, but she was, in a word, inconsolable.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that both her coaches had stopped and turned back, as had her teammates. Soon, one of her coaches stepped in to take her from me. He pulled her in for a hug and talked quietly to her for the next few minutes, telling her, “It’s good that you are sad. It means you love it, it’s important to you. That makes you play hard.” When he was done, her team gathered around her for a huge group hug.

Meanwhile, one of the girls who plays goalie on her high school team happened to be watching the game because she’d played earlier. When I told her Megan was disappointed with how she’d played, she asked if it would be ok if she talked to her for a minute. After her team dispersed, Sarah stepped in and encouraged Megan as well.

Watching it all, I was so grateful for the loss.

Sure, it was painful to watch her be sad. We were all disappointed – they’re a good team and could have continued. But in the world of youth sports where there is often so much criticism and pressure on kids, to see our daughter loved so well by her coaches and teammates, was a rare gift.

Sometimes the best memories are formed when someone loves us well in a hard place. I’m so thankful our daughter has one of those because of this team.

Promises to My Children

To the Mother of a Special Needs Child

Post author:Gina B
Post published:February 1, 2016
Post category:grace parenting

To the mother with a special needs daughter next to me on the plane:

I don’t know what brought you and your daughter from the back of plane to sit next to me on that late flight from Chicago to Orlando. I hope it wasn’t that someone was displeased by your presence; your daughter did so well on that flight. I’m sure you had no idea all the thoughts and emotions that observing the two of your raised for me:

I hoped that the flight wasn’t too disturbing for your daughter. I know that can stir a lot of anxiety for someone who is challenged.

I prayed she would feel ok and not be nervous. I prayed you would have patience and strength to do this journey.

I wondered if you were taking her to Disney, and I imagined her childlike wonder and joy if you do.

I thought about how this has been your life for a few decades, watching her, keeping her happy, caring for her most basic needs.

I loved watching her care for her baby doll.

I wondered how I could help her be at ease – if she would appreciate interaction, or if the attention of a stranger would disquiet her.

But mostly, if I could have sat next to you, I would have wanted you to know simply that I saw you.

I saw you patiently making sure her legs didn’t drift back into the aisle where they might be bumped. I saw you point out pictures in the magazine to hold her attention. I saw you when you had to speak for her to the flight attendant, knowing that must happen day after day, you communicating for her. I saw when you recognized that she was getting agitated, and you knew she needed her baby to calm her down.

I saw that you are a good mother. I know most people don’t give much thought to what it means for you to love and care for her day in and day out. I’m sure I don’t know the half of it, but I want you to know that there are people who see you, and want to support and help you in what you do. I hope you know that. I hope you have those people, people who can offer much more than just a prayer and a smile on a late night plane. You are seen.

When You Love Someone with Special Needs

The Power of a Mother’s Words

Post author:Gina B
Post published:November 17, 2015
Post category:parenting

The Power of a Mother's Words I saw the attitude creep in.

At first, it was a proclivity to preferring me over dad. That’s normal for a 13 year old, right? But soon it was, “I don’t want dad” and “he can’t do it right” and shrugging off hugs and kisses. It was eye rolling and snarky come backs and at times, downright sass.

My husband, being the gentle, easy going guy that he is, was good natured about it at first. But over time, I began to observe the hurt in his eyes, the rejection he felt from his little girl. I thought, “When did this happen? And what do we do to make it stop?”

And then I started looking at myself. I noticed the words that came out of my mouth when her dad was home late from work, a “you know your dad” comment thrown carelessly in front of her. I caught my tendency to jump in to her issues when I could have left space for her to turn to him instead. I heard my sarcastic responses to him at dinner. In a hundred little ways, I had set the example in how I was treating her father. She was just copying what she saw.

Alright, then. If she can copy me at my worst, she can copy me at my best.

So I began an all out offensive. I held my tongue when she baited me to complain about him coming home late. I talked about his positive traits, his good character, how blessed we are to have him. I made a big deal about him coming home (not as excited as our dog is, but heading that direction).

At first, I got suspicious sideways glances, “Seriously? This guy?” Yeah, this guy. This guy who loves, protects, provides for, encourages and builds us all. This guy who doesn’t get nearly the credit he deserves – I see how I have the power to shape how you view him and I am determined to do just that.

It didn’t happen overnight, but it happened. The attitude changed. She’s the one running to greet him. She smiles at his corny jokes (most of the time). She wants him to say goodnight too. Her words are different. So is her heart.

I have to keep a watch though. How I talk becomes how she talks. My attitude becomes hers – not just toward her father but everything. How we talk to children becomes not only their inner voice but the voice they use with others. We must be conscious to speak to them and in front of them the way we hope they will speak to others.

There is power in our words, friends. Power to shape hearts that form words that become attitudes that affect relationships.

Let’s use that power to bless.

Beautiful

When You Love Someone With Special Needs

Post author:Gina B
Post published:September 28, 2015
Post category:parenting personal relationships

One of the things that brings me the greatest joy is to hear my children talking to my sister. When they talk with her, they sweetly ask questions and patiently listen to her stories. They treat her with compassion. They make her feel loved. It’s like a balm to my soul.

Why? Because my sister is mentally challenged.

What it’s like to love someone who is challenged

Growing up with an older sister who is mentally challenged, I had an acute radar for how other people responded to her. I vetted every friend who came over, watching to see if they would treat her normally. I eyed strangers in public, ready to give them the stink eye if they so much as smirked at her. (You don’t want to be on the receiving end of my stink eye).

While my parents encouraged her as much as possible to live an independent life, she will always need others’ help and support. She is a perpetual child in an adult body; trusting, simple, open. She needs others to stand with her, to listen to her, to guide her, to do for her what she cannot do for herself.

As adults, I’m not as worried about her as I was as a child, but I still want to shelter her. During the 2012 election, we needed to vote early, so I picked her up on Halloween. She exited her house wearing a pink princess costume with a silver crown.

I paused for a minute and then thought, “Ok, let’s go with it.”

Of course we got stares and questioning looks at the voting booths. Part of me felt the need to justify why a 42-year-old woman was wearing a princess costume. Another part of me wanted everyone to act like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Actually, I wanted more than that. I wanted people to feel the way I felt about her – that they would think that it was awesome that she was wearing exactly what made her happy on a holiday.

How I want people to see her

I wanted them to see her as the gift she is; a precious, God-given gift.

My sister loves purely and wholeheartedly. She delights in little things, in being part of everything. Trust and acceptance come easily to her. She gives me opportunities to grow in being compassionate, patient, gentle, loving, protective of the weak, accepting of the different.

And that’s why it’s such a blessing when others step in and love her alongside me. It says, “I see that she is precious too. I will stand with you in loving her.” It says we are not alone, that others will be the protectors, the helpers, the givers. They will recognize the value in her.

So if you know someone who is challenged in some way, know that taking the time to love them isn’t just a gift to them. It’s a gift to those who love them as well. Thank you.

What Parents Really Need to Hear

Hopes for My Daughter On Turning 13

Post author:Gina B
Post published:April 15, 2015
Post category:growth hope parenting

Hopes for My Daughter On Turning 13

Ok, you finally made it. 13. I have to confess, it’s felt like you’re a teenager for awhile now. You have your emotional ups and downs, and you’re mature beyond your years. That’s my polite way of saying sometimes, girl, you’re a handful. But, I am quick to remind myself that you are far from the terror I was at 13. I wish that on no one.

But whatever handful you are, it’s what you are supposed to be. This is a tough time, and I’m going to tell you that it’s going to get rockier before it gets better. Being a teenager is turbulent. I remember.

I hope it goes well for you. I hope so much. I hope that you navigate these years with confidence, not in yourself, but in who God has made you to be. You are beautifully and wonderfully made. I know you doubt that sometimes, when you look at the widow’s peak you wish I hadn’t given you, or your drive for perfection that frustrates you. But trust me – it’s ALL good. I hope you never let someone else’s words or looks cause you to doubt that truth.

I hope, as you grow and mature, you never lose your childlikeness. It’s different than being childish. Childlike means you stay open, humble, willing to learn, ok with the fact that you’re not there yet, willing to let others help you in your weak places. Jesus
said the kingdom belongs to those people.

I hope, as you grow, that you are gentle with yourself. You’re going to make mistakes. You won’t know what you’re doing. You will have ups and downs and disappointments and regrets, but it’s all part of the process. This is how we learn, so I hope you can smile at the fumbles and say, “Now I know!” and move on with compassion and grace.

I hope you value yourself in relationships. I hope you continue to choose to spend time with people who build you up, who love you as you are, and with whom you can stand your ground. I hope you always believe that you are worth pursuing. I hope you never think you have to change to make yourself likable or attractive to anyone.

I hope you know how normal all this is. I know some days you’ll feel like you could conquer the world, and other days you’ll be shaking in your boots. Sometimes you’ll think I’m the smartest, best mom ever, and other days you’ll think I’m a idiot. Your
emotions will run wild at times and cause you to think and do things that surprise you. I hope you take it all in stride. (I hope I do too!)

I hope you keep following your dreams. They are good dreams. I hope they become clearer and more tangible, but at the same time, I hope they never take the place of God in your heart. I hope you can hold them open to Him and trust that He will do with them what is best for you.

I hope you cling to Jesus. If there is anything I hope for you, it is this. I hope that as you grow, you see more and more how desperately you need Him, and how He is more than sufficient for everything you need. I hope you love Him with everything you have. I hope you taste and see that He is so very good. I hope this relationship guides you and brings you joy.

I hope in Him for you, kiddo. He has great plans for you. Welcome to 13.

The Extraordinary Childhood of a Third Culture Kid

Post author:Gina B
Post published:March 30, 2015
Post category:culture parenting third culture kids

The Extraordinary Life of a Third Culture Kid — photo by Gina Butz

I grew up on a corner lot with a huge backyard across the street from a giant park. The world was our plush, Kentucky bluegrass playground.

Our kids grew up surrounded by concrete. The nearest decent patch of grass was a solid mile away across a busy street.

One day, when they were littles, I lamented this fact to God. I felt like our kids were missing out on a “normal” childhood by being Third Culture Kids (TCKs). His clear response to me was, “Really, Gina? Your kids have ridden elephants in Thailand and climbed the Great Wall. They have been exposed to cultures and languages most people don’t see in their lifetimes. Is this not good enough?”

He made a strong argument.

Our kids never ate Cheerios or played little league or rode in car seats (yeehaw!). I always feared that their strange upbringing would be a source of distancing from friends here in the States. Instead, it seems to have given them some street cred.

Lately, our kids and their friends have shared more stories about this sad, grassless childhood with other kids school which has led to one girl declaring that she wants to be adopted into our family so she can travel with us (perhaps she doesn’t know she could go on her own?). As the stories come out about exotic places they’ve been and lived, the admiration climbs. It led Ethan’s friend and fellow TCK to say to me one day, “I think I’m realizing I have lived a good life.” Yes, yes you have.

In lamenting the fact that I couldn’t give our children a “normal” childhood, in some ways I missed the fact that we were giving them an extraordinary one. No, they don’t exactly know what to do with a backyard, but they can navigate an airport on their own. They can’t tell you how an American baseball game is played but they have road tripped between countries.

Being a Third Culture Kid comes with its gaps in experience, but the experiences they have are so incredibly rich that I wouldn’t trade them. I’m thankful that our kids spent their formative years in other cultures. More than that, I’m so thankful that they consider it a blessing as well.

A Different Childhood

What Parents Really Need to Hear

Post author:Gina B
Post published:February 24, 2015
Post category:parenting truth

Erik and I were in a baffling parenting moment recently.

We struggle to find activities that all four family members enjoy together. It’s not surprising to us – for the 13 years we lived overseas, we lived in such a tight community with an abundance of like-minded people that we were almost never alone as a family. Vacations, meals, you name it – we had company. Now we’re in the states looking at each other thinking, “So now what do we do?” It’s hard to know how to fill the space sometimes.

We were pondering this issue as we drove to have dinner with friends one night. We decided to take advantage of the wisdom of other couples and ask them what they thought we should do about this.

They listened. They asked good questions. They gave a few suggestions. But what they seemed to realize, and we quickly did too, is that what we needed wasn’t a solution. We needed to hear two things: “You are not alone in your struggle,” and “you are doing a good job.”

Google “parenting advice” and you’ll get “about 106,000,000” hits. Hope you have a lot of time to read every opinion under the sun. Do this. Don’t do that. You can read opinions that vary so widely it will make your head spin. We all want to do it well.

Some of us like to think we’ve found the answers, and can be dogmatic or defensive about them, depending on the day. Or we hide in the shadows, afraid to ask our questions, thinking we’re the only ones who just can’t seem to figure this parenting gig out. We forget that our situations and our children and the way we are individually wired means that there are so few methods that universally apply.

But what we can say to one another is this: You are not alone. You are doing a good job. God is on your side. He will help you. Keep trusting Him.

Let’s say that to each other, and I think we’ll all find it’s true.

Promises to My Children

Post author:Gina B
Post published:December 1, 2014
Post category:expectations parenting

Promises to My Children

Kids, you have a lot of life ahead of you. You have big dreams and hopes for how that all will go. There are so many things I want to promise you about that life.

I wish I could promise you, sweet girl, that you will become a world-famous women’s soccer player. Or that you, brilliant son, will someday live on that space station (though you know I want you to stay on this planet).

I wish this world would always love you, no harm will ever come to you, you will have an easy path, life will be fair, and you will be happy and carefree.

I can’t promise any of that.

Here’s what I can promise you:

I promise you will always be loved.

I love you so much sometimes I can’t stand it. It spills out all over you in hugs and kisses you don’t necessarily want. Other times it’s harder because our sin gets in the way, but I promise I will always make it my aim to love you well.

And when I fail, which I will, remember that you are unconditionally loved by the One who made you. His is the one opinion that will never change. He’s wild about you. Let that be your solid place, even more than me.

I promise I will love your dad.

He’s a good man, your dad is. I’m blessed. But neither of us is perfect and marriage is hard work. I promise I will love him and fight for what we have. We will show you that it’s all worth it to have someone who is with you for the long haul. We want that for you.

I promise God will always be with you.

If I could, I would always be with you (probably even when you’d rather I wasn’t). I will always try, but there will be times that I cannot be there, or should not be there for your own growth. God has no such restrictions. He will always be there with all you need.

I promise to get all up in your business.

Hey, I’m your mom. So yes, I’ll ask about who you hang out with and what you talk about. I’ll put restrictions on what you can watch and play. When you’re emailing and browsing online, I’ll be looking over your shoulder. I’ll stick my nose in your room when you aren’t expecting me. I’ll make you eat your vegetables and do your chores. Get used to it. It’s because of #1.

I promise to let you go your own way.

I know that might seem contrary to #4. It’s hard for me to write, but I know you need to be independent from us. I have ideas about who I’d like you to be, but those don’t matter. What matters is that you be you. I know there will be many times when I need to just let you go, maybe even let you fail miserably. I will. Or at least I promise I will try.

I promise to always be FOR you.

At every competition, every job, every relationship that means something to you, everything you attempt, I will be your cheerleader. I’ll be the last one standing even if everyone else has stopped watching. Even when you don’t believe in yourself, I will believe in you. I am your biggest fan.

I promise to be with you in the fight.

You know I can’t keep you from all the hard, painful, unfair experiences of life. That’s true. But I promise that whatever you are going through, I will be all in. I will weep with you, be angry with you, pray with you and fight the good fight with you. We will walk the hard roads together.

I promise to keep trusting God for you.

I know you think I’m a good mom. Thanks for that. But the fact is, I’m not enough, and I need to own that. Where I am powerless, I need to trust in God to grow you in ways I just can’t. I will keep prying open my sticky fingers to trust you back to Him, believing that He is doing good work in you.

I promise I will make mistakes.

You know I can’t be a perfect mom, but that’s not what you need anyway. You need a mom who is human and makes mistakes, but gives herself grace and picks herself up to move on. And when I mess up, I will apologize. I can model that for you. Thanks for always being gracious when I do.

I promise to point you to Jesus.

At the end of the day, He can give you so much more than I can. I hope you always believe that. I’m never going to stop telling you and showing you, because when you find a well in the desert, you take others there. He’s living water, your source of life. He’s the best I can offer you. I promise.

What Being a Soccer Mom Teaches Me About Parenting

Post author:Gina B
Post published:October 13, 2014
Post category:parenting

I have embraced what seems to be the natural calling of an American mom.

Outside the home, I watch soccer. That’s what I do.

Every weekend, sometimes more than once, I am in my camp chair with a water bottle and a phone in hand to text updates to my husband.

Each game brings a certain amount of trepidation. I hope our daughter will get to play the position she wants. I hope she will play well. Please God, I hope she will not get injured. I hope we will win, or at least play well and learn from it. I hope the girls will have fun.

We all do. All the parents sitting on the sidelines hope. What I’m noticing is that we all have different responses to that hope.

How We Hope

There’s a range of how vocal the parents on our team are. Some throw out only encouraging comments when the girls do well. Some restrict their suggestions to their own daughters. Others get more involved, particularly when the game isn’t going in our favor. And then there are the few who mistakenly believe that they need to make up for the lack of direction from our coaches, and sideline coach every. single. minute.

I get it. It’s hard to watch from the outside and see mistakes being made, opportunities lost, to witness fumbling right in front of the goal, and not be able to do anything about it.

The comments we parents make from the sidelines are not enlightening our girls in the slightest. They are fully aware that when the ball is centered in front of our goal, they should clear it. When someone else has taken the ball, they know some pressure might get it away from her. They are cognizant of how the game is going.

Our coaches embrace the philosophy that coaching happens at practice, and during the games they let the girls figure it out themselves. They want them to talk to each other, to realize what they’re doing wrong and correct it as a team. They took their U-17 girls to the state championship last year, so I think it’s working.

Where We Should Hope

The older our kids get, the more I realize that much of my parenting must feel like the overly enthusiastic sideline coach. They know when they are making mistakes, for the most part. They see the opportunities, they know how it’s all going. Do they need some direction now and then? Sure. But not the kind of micro-managing that comes out of a hope that has become an expectation that has become, “how you do reflects on me, therefore I must control the outcome of this.” We need to step back sometimes and let them make their own mistakes, figure it out for themselves.

Ultimately, it’s not our coaching or direction that will get our kids where they need to go in life. We cannot put our hope in our own ability to direct our kids. Our hope is in God, who is a far better coach and counselor than we are. Let’s trust in His guidance of them as we cheer them on from the sidelines.

Finding Your Own Voice

Our Inside Out Moment

To the Mother of a Special Needs Child

The Power of a Mother’s Words

When You Love Someone With Special Needs

What it’s like to love someone who is challenged

How I want people to see her

Hopes for My Daughter On Turning 13

The Extraordinary Childhood of a Third Culture Kid

What Parents Really Need to Hear

Promises to My Children

I promise you will always be loved.

I promise I will love your dad.

I promise God will always be with you.

I promise to get all up in your business.

I promise to let you go your own way.

I promise to always be FOR you.

I promise to be with you in the fight.

I promise to keep trusting God for you.

I promise I will make mistakes.

I promise to point you to Jesus.

related posts:

What Being a Soccer Mom Teaches Me About Parenting

How We Hope

Where We Should Hope

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