Walk of Shame

Late again...
      and AGAIN...
To church...

Taking that L-O-N-G walk of shame up the aisle to the very front of church, the very first pew where we cannot hide our tardiness. The one where I nod a hello to the pastor while wearing your Sunday best fake smile to hide the frowns of my children. 

The premium back rows in church are occupied by people who have arrived early or on time or late, but, at least before we did.

                                 So my kids and I take a walk, up the front, to the first pew. 

My kids fight me,
                 I fight my kids,
To church,
              For God.

I am positive that when they grow up and remember church and God, it's going to be
                       memories of nagging,
           pleadings ignored,
                              hungry stomaches and sullen car rides,
occasionally sweetened with a run for donuts to make us
               even more tardy, but pleasant on a sugar high.

When they get older and grow up, I don't want them to remember me as Sunday-Angry mom.

I want them to realize you have to be fierce, determined, and unwaivering to something important that makes me walk through the challenges of 'weakly' protests.

I am betting on Him to smooth out the jagged, sharp memories that it takes to get them there.

His love and grace are more moving than this Sunday-angry mom and THIS is the message I hope imprints into their hearts that makes the walk worthy.

Woo-rd Up: Sterotypical

Woo-rd up: A friend suggested Q-cards for vocab for our kids.  
I went to the website and this was the best false advertisement ever.   

  

A smiling ASIAN I-know-I'm-going-to-HARVARD-kid with vocab cards.
Ain't nobody ever gonna look that happy studying vocabulary cards! 
MY Asian kid never looked like that - EVER-R-R-R.
Woo-rds: stereotypical and irony

Dear Admissions Director (Part 2)

Dear Admissions Director,


I’ve been thinking about this admissions process a little bit more after my first letter.

You see getting into school has turned into an educational ivory tower cage fight – starting in kindergarten and some places even earlier! I guess this is to weed out the weak. Today’s kids and parents need to be tough.  

I get it and I can handle this – we are on the five year pre-plan--pre-plan plan. I already blacked out the dates for all your open houses for the next five years for all levels of your school: lower, middle, and upper. My babysitters are already set up. I could go 5 more years into the future, but that would just be overkill. 

And, of course, we asked our newest, closest friend there for a recommendation and let you know that “Hey, we really like your school!” Although, through the grapevine, we heard our newest, closest friend told you that we thought “The admissions director drools.” Nooo, we don’t think that. Never! I am perplexed. There must have been a misunderstanding. I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact they also have a kid they are trying to get into the same school and grade. (Note to self: trust no one.)

My husband and I also realize the importance to know and understand your school before we even visit. Your website provides great information not to mention that when cross referenced with public data bases, Google, Instagram, Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter for school and administration staff you can really learn a lot about the people. (Wow, you crushing on Si Robertson? Really? Never would have guessed. Thought it would have been Willie, but Si is a good choice, too.) This is a much better than the outdated method of stealing borrowing school directories and yearbooks for a list of the school employees to memorize their faces so that when we saw them during a school tour we could give them a friendly shout out and hi-five.

By the way, I would like to make a suggestion about the open houses so you don’t waste your valuable time. Those parents who have questions during the Q&A session really don’t care what your answers are. All they hear is “waah, waah-waah” like Charlie Brown’s teachers talking. What they really want is you to see THEM all dressed up she-she-poo-poo. (Posers. Everybody knows that once you’re in, ALL the moms just wear workout clothes.) I would just omit the Q&A because if parents haven’t done their homework on social media, they just can’t be that interested and you are their back-up school.   

All this may give you the impression that all those families out there are neurotic with a sprinkle of OCD to top it off, well, you are just sooo perceptive because you are right. Those families ARE cra-zay! But, not us.   

It’s a battle field out there.

Sincerely,
Parent of an applicant

Rocking Vanilla Jesus Juke

"Why can't you be a normal mom?!  Make a normal dinner?!?" screamed my 8 year old kid who was complaining about dinner - again.

"Normal?  Normal is average.  Normal is dumb and broke!    Normal is rocking vanilla."  answered I.  "Eating gluten free - Paleo - eating like a cave man is awesomeness."

"What are you talking about?!"

"I'm talking about trying on awesomeness like Jon Acuff."

"Who's that?"

'He's a famous writer - like he's written 4 books. He made up the phrase Jesus juke. Google it."

'The Jesus what?  He's not famous otherwise I would know about him like Taylor Swift."  

That's when this cave woman realized she has channelled her inner Jon Acuff too much while she cooks over an open fire.    (It's really a gas stove.)   I'm not exactly sure what I'm trying to start, but maybe I should quit.    That instead of punching fear in the face I was about punch my kid's lights out for what?  Being an average, normal Chinese kid who thinks cauliflower rice is weird?  

But, hey, this is stuff Christians like... we go for weird, we go for the broken, we go for out of the ordinary...because who else has a god who came down from heaven to lie in a feeding trough in a barn that no industrial amount of Febreeze could hide animal husbandry and fake people out in a commercial?

But it's here in the story of how Christ came down into our plain vanilla world compared to a heaven where choruses of angels sing Him praises and rocked it on this third rock from the sun.   He rocked vanilla so much that he rolled it away on the third day.   

And that is awesome.

Dear Admissions Director (Part 1)

Dear Admissions Director,

While accepting the athletically gifted, brainiacs, music virtuosos, and super rich families, would it be possible to carve out a separate category for my son: nice, normal kid who sometimes slacks because he understands the value of down time (better than his mom), doesn't rush (because what's the rush?), laughs lots, and tells good stories (only to the ones who will enjoy it). 

A newly created subcategory underneath the new normal category could be goofy kid, foodie for all things rice, snob to all things vegetable, master artist of stick figures, and expert antagonizer-illusionist (draws circles with his finger an inch away from you chanting "I'm not touching you. I'm not touching you." (His sisters could explain the effectiveness of this trick.))

Please take into consideration the fact that the first 7 years of his life really were not for measuring achievements, but just for mastering becoming a human such as walking erect and upright. This was a challenge since we have 12 people in our extended family. His feet never had to touch the ground for almost the first two years since there was always someone who wanted to hold him.

While we admittedly slacked on the motor skills, manners are very important! We’ve been drilling and drilling basic manners into his head. It’s not because he is a slow learner; it’s just that he is a boy. I’m waiting for some assistants on this, and, until he starts liking girls who like boys with manners, I’m on my own in this battle.

Our scholastic achievements have been more mundane such as learning the alphabet and reading to compliment counting and basic math while trying to make all that homework land in his backpack instead of the floor to return to school. 

Our performance venues have been amateur instead of professional. Read: The playground. This place taught him to play nicely with others, share, and wait your turn. The playground created space to practice dreaming of being someone different like a super hero, a dinosaur, or a fire truck. You could even be all three rolled into one. I’m not sure metaphysically how that works - you’d have to ask my kid because he still knows. 

In summary, I know there are only a few spots that are available and it seems like you have to be willing to donate several major organs and a 100 acres of land to get them. Thus, schools liking families with incomes the size of a small country’s GDP. And, thus, the motivation to be a prodigy, if you don’t have the bank roll, and begin a career To-Do lists in utero:

Algebra at 6 months fetal stage - x
Birth – x x x
Solo tuba performance at Carnegie Hall by age 4 - x
Nobel Peace prize by age 10 - x

So when you have to measure my normal kid against the prodigies and the echelons of privileged, I’m just gonna think out of the checked boxes and throw out a category called: Normal and Nice.

Just a thought.

Wishing you well and never having to experience this,
Parent of applicant

Pregnancy is easier than THIS

Pregnancy really could be easier. Labor looks like a piece of cake.

My problem really is the cake. I am allergic to SUGAR! I took an allergy test and it came back with sugar listed right after lima beans. (You can bet I'm not crying over that last one.)

It is medically official.

And it's not a walk in the park!

Sugar is everywhere!!

EVERYWHERE - LIKE OXYGEN EVERYWHERE!! It's not just the usual suspects of candy, cakes, and cookies. It is hidden in so many foods with so many different names. Anything with sugar cane, sucanat, malodextrin, sucrose, fructose, glucuse, sugar, syrup, treacle, invert sugar, brown sugar, maltose, and xylose must be avoided. Crux of all of this - processed sugar.

This is some pretty difficult waters to navigate since if you don't me, you don't know that I am sugar addict - that sugar SNOB requesting ONLY the corner piece of frosted cake and prefers her cookie dough straight up - skip the baking. 

I have been contemplating this new challenge while I finish my last package of Weikel's cinnamon rolls topped with the ooey-gooey goodness of sugar frosting, a Texas favorite of mine, before I make a decision to go forward with this wack-o lifestyle change.

My doctor, bless his heart, offered to share his frosting recipe made from AVOCADO. (?!?) I politely said, "Oh, that's new to me." I thought actually that this is criminal on so many different levels and this guy must be smoking something. (He doesn't. It's not paleo, which is another saga.)

Choosing sugar free has tremendous health benefits. I may be able to avoid diabesity and make a big impact on my family. My organs would thank me. Maybe I would not have to work out so much if I quit polluting my body with this toxin. Best of all: Bye-buh, muffin top, it was NEVER nice knowing you.

The downside of it all - lots of cussing and curing and swearing and praying - all at the same time to get through this.

Well, there it is - a line drawn in the sand.

Status unhealthy quo or Going in with a fight sugar free-dom.

I have to decide which side I will cross.

I'm crossing the line for freedom.


Question:

If you have decided on sugar free-dom, too, what helped you decide?

How did you feel when you decided? What has helped you to keep persevering?

What's the Flip Side of the Fall?

If falling and standing back up are on both sides of the coin, what's on the flip side?

It's a toss up for fortunes and possibilities - 

Humbleness after the loss.

                           Humility in the winning.  (We remember what it's like losing.)

Passion boiling.

                     Patience in the rise.  

          A good fight where the victors and on-lookers will applaud you.

          Stack up experiences that create a life in the falling and standing up!

Yes, life will not always be in your favor, but, man, go and try.   

If you don't risk it, that's the same as just falling and staying there. 

Take a risk to fall and stand up.

It's your turn to call it:  heads or tails?

Why do we fall?

Falling.

 

That's something everyone can do.

 

It's easy.

 

Just stay down - maybe roll around and wiggle a little and flip and turn like a worm.    

A really good-bad fall creates a huge splat that hits everyone in the splash zone.     

 

But, ah, stand back up after the falll...that's where the cliffhanger dangles...the excitement.

 

After the splat, the bubble in the air houses the question:  Can she get back up?  Will she make it?

 

Anticipation is held in the breath of watching, waiting, and hoping.

 

Learning to stand back up takes practice and willingness to fall some more.  But slowly, slowly like a sloth, it can happen and the rising gets easier with the tumbles, stumbles, and splats.    Standing up again means walking away with another bruise and a higher pain threshold calloused with another layer of determination.

 

Falling and standing back up are on the same side of the coin that banks grit, character, and perseverance.

 

Falling is the only way to learn to stand back up again.