EMBRACING BRACES

By Sharon Wilhite

Three years ago, in February of 2010, our daughter was blessed with braces (compliments of a generous neighbor!). Now, when I was growing up, braces were considered more of a curse than a blessing. Taunts, pain, and metallic ugliness were endured while awaiting orthodontic perfection.

 

These days, most adolescents embrace braces (get it?!) as a fashion statement. Every month my daughter (and her sister who also flaunts braces) coordinate a new color of dental rubber bands to fit their current wardrobe. Thousands of dollars invested to straighten teeth, and all they focus on is if neon green or hot pink would be the better shade for that particular season, month, or approaching holiday! Sure there is also pain involved; sometimes LOTS of pain. But, it all seems worthwhile when that special someone (or anyone) notices the new shade and comments, "Wow! that rubber band color looks really great on you!"

 

Today, she finally had her braces removed, and we celebrated with a Culver's hot fudge sundae. Was she ecstatic over a new, perfect, filed-down smile? Or was she sad about the loss of a very visible fashion accessory? I don't know; you'll have to ask her!

 

 

My Time

By Charis Seeley

My husband and I seem to make all of our big life changes at once. We have a three year old daughter, and we’ve recently decided it’s time to leave our current house in search of greener pastures with four bedrooms and a finished basement. In the chaos of trying to prepare our current house for the real estate market, the simplest of tasks seem to pile up. And despite the longer hours of sunshine, the day is still only 24 hours long. We’re exhausted and nowhere close to finished. Too often it’s hard to see where the day has gone.

If I Find Time

It will surely be hiding under the sofa,

       riddled with holes of dust bunny nibbles.

I may have left it in between

       the third and fourth undone laundry loads.

I have searched my dresser,

       where it did not lay under the sweaters awaiting the dry cleaner.

It may have slipped into old pacifiers,

        or into boxes of baby clothes stacked for storage.

Perhaps I left it across town,

       forgotten in a shopping cart,

            or pressed between the pages of a coupon flyer.

It must be hiding.

I cannot find it.

I must have lost it.

I could not have thrown it out.

I have looked for my time,

       And I find that it does not gather with the dishes,

            Nor with the anxieties,

                 Or the projects,

                      Or the books, dust, or pipes.

But in a set of eyes still too young to have decided their color,

        grey or blue or green.

Most often,

        It is there that I find my time.

Don’t Try

By Robin Steinweg

“Remember to clean your room,” I told my son.

“I’ll try,” he said, and immediately forgot.

“Remember to lock the door,” I said to the wall. (It may as well have been the wall.)

My son said, “I’ll try,” and I returned home hours later to an unlocked house.

“Don’t forget, your essay on the second law of thermodynamics is due tomorrow.”

“I’ll try to remember.”

You get the picture. These scenarios frustrated me as a mom more than most things. But the memory is a funny thing: I could easily remember myself at that age, forgetting things the minute I said I’d try to remember. Perhaps that made me a little too empathetic. 

I tried punishments and rewards to no avail. I quoted the Bible on procrastination, and famous people who had wise-sounding words, to inspire my sons to do a thing right away, before it could evaporate from their brains. Nothing seemed to help. Until a little yellowish-greenish fellow with large ears and stray whiskers came on the scene. I would never have believed that a puppet-like creature from a science fiction movie would help me in parenting. But Yoda did.

“There is no try. Only do.”

Six words. Yoda’s super six words made all the difference in my parenting technique—and in the results. It worked even when I used a Yoda-like voice.

The one thing I’m left wondering is, can I use it on myself?

                                              

“A GOODLY HERITAGE”

By Sharon Wilhite

“The lines are fallen unto me in pleasant places; yea, I have a goodly heritage.” -Ps.16:6

I have always known that God blessed me greatly with the parents He placed me with 50 years ago. 

 

Spiritually, they took me to church as soon as I was born and showed me how to be saved and live a godly life by word and example. 

 

Mentally, a book was always in my father’s reach, the library was a favorite destination, books filled the back window of our car on vacation, and they were a present to be desired on birthdays and at Christmas. 

 

Physically, swimming lessons were a usual summer activity that led to a life long love of the water and swimming as exercise as well as fun. 

 

Creatively, they both used the talents that God had given them in music, sewing, painting, and photography (to name a few) and shared them with their three daughters. My father’s love for taking pictures inspired me to do the same but probably more prolifically with the advent of digital cameras. I love seeing my children now taking pictures with that same enjoyment of their mother and grandfather before them. 

 

What else am I passing down to them intentionally or unintentionally?!

Jump On

By Kristi Paxton

We Americans love our band wagons. Recently we’ve all sported “support our troops” bumper stickers, mall sales and signs in our yards. I have a suggestion for a new band wagon: Support Our Teachers.

A substitute teacher myself, I don’t even pretend to have the guts and passion to be a full time teacher. But I have a privileged spot, spying on behaviors of teachers and students of all ages. Here is what I witness in all grades, one through twelve:

1.       Kids don’t begin to know the meaning of respect.

       2.       Rudeness is the flavor of the day.

3.       Teachers bend over backwards to try new techniques, providing separate daily plans for several styles of learners.

4.       Kids ignore the teachers, talking out loud to their friends while the teacher tries to teach.

5.       Parents blame their child’s problems on the “teacher’s lack of effort.”

6.       Kids play with cell phones, using computer “research time” to mess around on Facebook.

7.       Kids wait for a few good students to do all the work, and then quickly dive in to copy all the answers at lunch or study hall. I worry about their shrinking out-of-use brains.

8.       Most teachers spend at least part of their meager earnings to buy “fun lesson supplies” or treats for their students.

 Parents beware. Our students are good at telling us what we want to hear. They make elaborate excuses for their poor performance. They blame the “lame” teachers or claim “boring” lessons. The fact is, someone has spent her precious evenings or weekends (and some of her own money) to come up with exciting lessons to spark a love of learning. Students are too tied up in their own egos to pay attention. They sit bored, sleep during class or spend their time entertaining classmates.

A young teacher friend of mine was hired four weeks into the school year when the fifth grade teacher quit to become a firefighter. She jokes that “he’d rather run in to burning buildings once in a while than face a roomful of fifth graders daily.” (Not to mention that it is currently popular in this country to appreciate firefighters.)

So I have a challenge for all of us. The next time we attend a parent-teacher conference, let’s thank our teachers for not giving up on our children. Let’s ask if our kids are disrespectful at school. If they are, let’s do our best to fix it. Our kids won’t die without a cell phone, Facebook or electronic games.

Let’s tell our teachers what we’ve been telling our soldiers and firefighters: “Thanks for what you do.” After all, they will help our children become nurses, doctors, lawyers, engineers or teachers. Teachers who go into battle every day, trying to make sure our children succeed.

Instant Pudding/Parenting

By Brenda Lysak

Sunday morning dawned with deep freeze temperatures. Azure and Zane, 5 and 2 year old grandkids had spent the night. They were coming to church with me. My church is a parking lot away from my front door. We got our breakfasts and pulled on our clothes and were soon ready for the short hike to church. As we stepped out the door the snow plow went by piling the snow into a meter and a half high mound all along the curb. The trail was not yet trampled down by school kids so we were going to have an adventure walking to church.


I had just joined a little neighborhood church. One sweet old lady introduced herself to Azure. She kindly explained that she knew her mom and dad and grandpa and to tell them hi for her. Her friendliness was met with cold rejection as only a child would dare.

When we came home after church my daughter made hot chocolate with miniature marshmallows for the children. I asked Azure why she hadn’t been nice to the kind lady at church. She said, “well, sometimes I’m shy.” I responded to this teachable moment with gusto.

“No Azure, you were not shy. You were snotty. When someone is talking to you need to smile and say hello and be nice.” I ended this teachable moment with the expectation that she would do better next time. I knew that my coaching had reached her heart when I overheard her teaching her marshmallows to be friendly.

I frequently babysit preschool kids and use these opportunities to build character. My heart is burdened by all the instant parenting I observe. Looking back on my childhood, I wish my parents and relatives would have loved me enough to invest in my character. My impression is that teachers and parents don’t want to be bothered with that level of involvement.

I do not know of another adult who enjoys small children like I do. I believe the difference is that kids are lovely to have around because I teach them how to behave. For example, when I decided to change Zane who is two, he protested as he often does for his parents. When I made the announcement that I was going to change his diaper and clothes for church he started a fit. I continued regardless expecting him to become compliant when he realized that his fit would not stop me. But his carrying on continued so I said sternly, “Stop it” and he did.

I have had a few such moments with his sister now five. That behavior has become extinct with me because she only receives the needed attention if she asks properly. Instead of rescuing her from her bad attitude, I coach her. For example; she gets frustrated if I don’t do everything for her. I coach her with soothing phrases like; sit down, use both hands, you are doing good, keep trying, be patient, and we have lots of time.

I learned from Kevin Lehman when my daughter was little that children know if they can push you and just how far. In his book, How to Make Kids Mind Without Losing Yours, he instructs parents to allow children to experience the consequences of their choices. The result is very little fuss when I address misbehavior.

With some common sense and wisdom children really are pure joy just as the Bible says. Interestingly kids are happiest in an environment where they must contribute in attitude as well as behavior. Building character makes parents, teachers, grandparents, and especially the child content. A child whose elders have invested in building character will be honored by the child.

Instant pudding or parenting seems easy but in reality grows more complex and discouraging each year. The world says the child will grow out of their selfish ways on their own. God says that discipline equals love and that we must do it awhile they are young.

Correct your children and they will give you comfort; they will also delight your soul. Proverbs 29:17