Day 8: Teaching Our Kids to Encourage

I don't know, maybe it's the eternal optimist in me, but I really like to root for the underdog. Like, really. And while we're at it, if we're watching a football game and I'm not rooting for a specific team? I secretly always cheer for the offense.

You read that right. I cheer for both teams. I know that someone has to win, but TV folks are so good at pulling me us in! The Olympics? Don't even get me started. Mr. Kuda just knows that there will be two weeks of me sitting in front of the TV with a tissue box. I get invested.

But I digress.

I'd like to think this as a positive personality trait of mine, but the older I get, I'm starting to see that, good or bad, it just isn't the norm. It breaks my heart to see more and more stories about bullies, about adults making fun of others, and everyone looking out for their own gain. It can be disheartening to think about how we brought our kids into this pessimistic messed up world of negativity and ugliness.

Now, if parenthood was a marathon, I'm well aware that I'm pretty much just finishing up my first mile. However. I do know what I want for my kids as they get older. And that's kindness, to love Jesus, and to cheer others on.

Encouragement. If I'm going to write on it for 31 days, I should at least attempt to describe some of the things we're doing at home to teach our children what it means to root for the other team. Even if they're not rooting for us.

Since moving into our "forever home," family members who have stowed away my childhood belongings for sixteen a few years finally had the chance to load off the remaining boxes. It's been fun, going through all of the stuff I had saved in high school and college. A lot of it I threw away, but the kids clung onto this one thing, and I just haven't had the heart to throw it away.

A pom pom.

So seemingly innocuous, but something that really started the encouragement train in this house. There's something innate in these kiddos that makes them want to cheer others on. So I ran with it. I think it's important to note that, of course we encourage our kids every day: you went potty! You put on your shoes! You ate all your dinner! My focus here is to take it to the next level... Out of our front door and into the community.

Being a cheerleader yourself teaches them to be cheerleaders.
When they dance? We go full on "Go mommy! Go mommy!" It's contagious. But they won't know how if you don't start. Be their cheerleader, and they'll cheer on others. And that being said...

Be someone else's cheerleader.
Even if they're strangers. The thing about it is, that unless we show our kids what we're trying to teach them, it just won't stick. This works really well at the playground. I may look silly, but my kids don't see it that way. Cheer other kids on. Tell them they're fast or daring. Even if it doesn't occur to your kiddos in the moment, it will catch on.

Use words they understand while encouraging.
I stole this from Sesame Street. Elmo likes to start his sentences with, "I like the way you... " Miss E, I like the way you shared with your brother. Mr. C, I like the way you waited your turn. We've been using this language for some time, but we're starting to see the fruits of it. Every so often, I'll catch Miss E telling her brother, "I love the way you just smiled at me, buddy!" It's heart warming.

Attach emotions with encouraging words.
"Miss E, when you told Mr. C how much you enjoyed his smile, it made his heart so happy!" There's an organic sincerity to the way we talk about our feelings and the encouraging words that go along with them. It's empowering to even the two year old. He beams when he hears these things.

That's just a start, and I want to be clear about one things before I close: not all things are rainbows and sunshine in our house. I make mistakes, Mr. Kuda makes mistakes, and the kiddos make mistakes. Thank goodness! But you've got to start as you mean to go on, and I think we've started something good.

What do you do to encourage your kids to, well, encourage? What has worked? What hasn't? I'd love some suggestions! In the meantime, grab a pom pom and go root someone on :)

xoxo, k.

Day 7: Drain and Re-Spin

Yesterday, in the standards of playing princess and doctor while making sure I'm not overrun by dog hair and dust, it was a pretty good day. The kids let me clean the kitchen as they diagnosed and treated "silly-belly-itis," we used a lazy Monday as an excuse to stay in pj's until 11 am, and said kiddos were being quite sweet and helpful to one another, and to me. Win.

And then.

As I started taking clothes out of the wash, I noticed that they seemed rather... wet. Absentmindedly, I reset the load to "Drain and Spin," anticipating that it would do just that.

So when I came down to check in with the load after the kids had settled nicely into quiet time, I hadn't really prepared for a machine full of water. With my clothes in it. The ones I needed to wear.

The next hour was a blur of me problem shooting with the washer people (lovely that they are, they had no explanation), and eventually scheduling a repair man. We somehow got out of the house to run our errands, which included my sweet girl's ballet class.

We dropped the library books, got the gas, and pulled up to ballet with myself feeling quite satisfied how I had handled everything. Even Miss E's bun looked pretty darn good (if I do say so). But as I turned to my little ballerina to talk about her upcoming class, reality hit: We hadn't grabbed her ballet bag. We had no shoes. No ballet belt. Nothing.

As this realization hit, Mr. C groggily woke, looked at me with tears on the brink, and signed for milk. We had no milk. We had no milk and no ballet stuff, and the weight of the slurry of the afternoon hit me like a ton of bricks. I hung my head trying not to show my face red hot with anger.

"It's ok, mommy. Just pray."

With those five words, the red drained from my face, and my world spun right around. I looked at that sweet little thing, and she was right. And she was watching my every move.

I think we've made it clear that no one is immune from imperfection. Thank God. So I did what she told me. I prayed aloud for peace in the stress and rush of the afternoon. I prayed for Miss E to enjoy her time in class, despite not having shoes. I prayed for Mr. C to have patience with his momma, and to embrace the hour we had just the two of us. Because they're watching. They need to see what my faith looks like, even when it's a little messy and things aren't going my way.

As "Amen" came across my lips, Miss E looked at me and declared, "That's great mommy. Let's go to ballet! I think we just need to ask Miss Emily if it's ok if I barefoot in class."

She uses barefoot as a verb, as in "I love to barefoot outside on the sidewalk." It's one of my favorites.

Here's my point: Sometimes days are undoubtedly hard. Sometimes they're not. Sometimes we almost have it all together, and then we watch things spin out of control. When that happens, stop. Breathe. You're only a prayer away from getting it all back together. Did we fix the problem? No, but thanks to my mighty three year old, we gained new perspective. If you can't see past it, look for a new perspective. It's there, and it will change your outlook. I promise.

xoxo, k.

Day 6: The Perfectionist

I'm sitting here Sunday night, with 10 different drafts in my arsenal, nothing speaking to me, finding nothing. to. say.

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The perfectionist. She's in all of us, but only rears her ugly head when we least expect it. Unfortunately for me, I'm often left feeling paralyzed, and in this case, 2 hours and 38 minutes from Day 6 with nothing to show for it.

I have to say, though, since having kiddos the perfectionist in me has been brought down to a low hum. At least in some areas of my life. Right now? There's stuff on the floor. In multiple rooms. But this is the first time I've had a moment to myself since I woke up to, "Mommy, I made my bed!" And found every stuffed animal within a five mile radius of our house on my daughter's bed. "Thanks for being a big helper, honey."

But this writing space? Somehow the little thoughts of perfectionism have slid into the cracks of my exterior, and just like that she's taken over, deceiving me in believing I'll ever reach anyone on a cool Monday morning in October.

And it's got me thinking about this perfectionist. This thief of joy and benefactor of unattainable ideals.

When I'm a perfectionist, I teach my children it's not ok to make mistakes.
When I'm a perfectionist, I build a wall around myself that doesn't let others see my true self.
When I'm a perfectionist, I waste time worrying about...everything.
When I'm a perfectionist, my facade tells others their best isn't good enough.
When I'm a perfectionist, I miss the true beauty of this life, and as a result I'm robbed of what is pure and different in the world. Perfectionism makes us believe that there's only one way, which alienates us from our community, friends, family.

Perfectionism strips us from the very threads of the world around us. It deceives us into believing that there is something perfect to strive for. But these distinct differences of this world, that's what makes it go around. That's the beauty of it all! And that's what helps us to grow in relationships with others, break down barriers and move closer to a more fulfilling and rich life.

When we first moved last year, I invited a new friend over so our children could play together. Mr. Kuda had been traveling for work, and despite the fact that we had lived in the rental for a few months, we were not unpacked, and I just couldn't find it in me to clean up to the perfect house I wanted to portray. I was mortified, but something in me just couldn't get it done. I apologized profusely, but she told me to stop, and that she was somewhat relieved that I didn't have it all together all the time. Those were her words: I'm kind of relieved because that means you don't have it all together all the time. What a blessing! Not only to me, but to her as well. It was that moment that a friendship grew; just one decision made allowed her to get a glimpse of my true self.

What if? What if we let those barriers fall, just one brick at a time? What if we allowed others to see our imperfections? The healing nature of doing so is powerful, if only we have the courage to do it every single day.

That's your challenge today: Expose your imperfections, and allow others to see who you truly are. As we embrace the ways we don't have it all together, and in that we will give the greatest gift to one another: ourselves.

xoxo, k.