Time to Pitch In, Kid

Dear kiddos,

We love you. Parents love their children. They provide a safe, loving place of refuge for you to come to. Always. I'm 37 years old and I know I can go home anytime. Always. You, littles, tweens, teens and so forth, you are just starting out on this wonderful journey through life. It's a rough and tough journey full of things we don't want to do. But, for the most part, we do those things anyway. Why? Because it's right. Because it's good. Because it's helpful. Because it will make us better versions of ourselves. Disciplined. 

I know. That words strikes that "ugh" cord. I hear your brain sqeaking right now. Discipline = punishment. Punishment = grounded/loss of privileges/ruined life. 

I'm talking about a different word: disciplined. See that "d" at the end? It gives that word a whole new meaning. 

A disciplined woman can control herself. No chocolate splurge after supper. Workout every day. Clean the bathrooms each week. Why? Because this life God gave us is a gift and we are meant to make the most of it. To not overindulge. To care for our earthly bodies. To keep our lives in order and maintain our households. 

As children, we were expected to pick up our coats and shoes, putting them in their proper places so we could find them when we needed them again. We were expected to help set the table and clean up after dinner. Put away the leftovers, wipe off the table, load the dishwasher and turn off the lights when all the cleanup was complete. 

As teenagers, we were expected to wash our clothes, fold and put them away if we wanted to have clean clothes for school and clean uniforms for sports/activities. To wash our cars, put gas in them and take them in for oil changes as needed. 

As college students we had to pay bills, get ourselves up and off to class in the morning, maintain a clean and orderly dorm room/apartment, keep up with homework and a job. 

As young professionals we realized somewhere along the way we had become adults. We were self-sufficient, contributing members of society. We were *gasp* responsible and disciplined grown-ups! 

How did that happen? When we were infants we couldn't do anything for ourselves. God blessed us with parents to feed, bathe, care for and guide us. Teach us. Love us. Mold us into the adults we would one day become. Adults that would bless those around them, their friends, family and spouses with their ability to pitch in and lend a hand. Help out. Do the things nobody wants to do (but we do them anyway) because that's how life works. That's what it takes to have a household into which we aren't ashamed to welcome an unannounced visitor. To have a household that isn't gross and disgusting. Just like those shoes and coat, car and dorm room/apartment. If we wanted to keep those things we had to take care of them. To show that we were responsible enough to deserve them. That we were disciplined.

Again I hear your brain working:
"So what?" 
"I'll still grow up and be an awesome adult without helping out now."
"My parents chose to have kids. It's not my fault we require cleaning up after."
"I'm busy with ______________ (dance/gymnastics/cheerleading/homework/music lessons/work/friends...)"

My dear, sweet child, find a quiet room. Turn off the lights. Get comfortable, close your eyes and do me a solid. Begin a prayer in your mind with this thought to get you started: "What if I woke up tomorrow without all the things I forgot to thank God for today?" 

(Pause for time to consider this. Really think about it. Do it. Really do it.)






There's a lot to remember to thank the Lord for, amIright? 

Now, in case you forgot the point of this letter, do it again and remember to be thankful for all the little things. The things your parents do for you. Buy groceries. Cook meals. Wash dishes. Vacuum floors. Clean bathrooms. Do your laundry. 

Now, let's think about what their prayer would sound like... 
What little things would your parents be thankful that you did for them today? 
How did you bless them today? 
How did you make their hearts fill with pride and joy, thankfulness and love? 
How are you showing them that you are growing into that responsible and disciplined child/tween/teen/young adult/adult they pray for you to become? 
How are you displaying your appreciation and thankfulness to God for providing you with this blessed life? 


I know this is getting a bit lengthy, so I promise to wrap it up soon, but I have a few final thoughts and one challenge for you. 

Thoughts:
1. Be appreciative. Every day. Think that thought and say that prayer every night before you go to sleep. 

2. Pitch in and help out. Do those things that mom and dad may not have the time to do. Do those things that need to be done. Do them without being asked and see how incredible the response from the parental units is. Your heart will be filled with pride at your own work. I promise.

3. Choose your friends wisely. In this time of your life you are not only defined by your own words and actions, but by those you associate with. Someday you'll regret some of your relationships. That's a guarantee, but you can be intentional about your future. About how you live your life.

4. Those friends that tell you they don't have to help out at home? They are one of two things: a) liars b) spoiled brats who will find adult life challenging and difficult due to their inability to care for themselves. They are the ones you make fun of now for living in their parent's basement at age 24, 30, 35... 

Challenge:
There's a book out there that I've heard incredible things about. I've never read it, but here's my challenge to you: let's read it together. I'll get a copy this weekend and over Christmas break, we'll dive headfirst into this book together and when you have questions you don't want to ask anyone else, you can ask me. If I don't know the answer, I'll find one. A good one. Promise.

Here's the link to the book:
Do Hard Things





If you don't have the money to buy it, check the library or ask mom/dad if they can add it to your Christmas gifts this year. I promise it will be worth it! 


Love you forever and always,
Your Parents 


*This letter was lovingly penned by Kristin Herrera - mom of two littles learning to be responsible, disciplined adults someday down the road. Yes, they do chores. They clean up meals, help with laundry, clean up their toys and feed their pets. At 3 and 6, I think that's pretty awesome. And on the days they volunteer to unload the dishwasher without being asked, well, my heart explodes with pride and joy, thankfulness and love for those littles.

Be Blessed

I'm so excited for Thanksgiving! It may be my favorite holiday, right after Christmas and all the holidays that involve warm weather. Ok, so it's my favorite food holiday. There, I said it. 

I love Thanksgiving for the food.

I love it so much I've started hosting it in my home. Somewhat Partially Mostly so I can be in control of the food. I've been locating recipes and planning shopping lists for next week's menu for a month now. I'm disappointed that there will only be 13 people in our house on Thanksgiving. Wanna know why? Because the more people there are, the more food I can make without hearing, about a zillion times, "We don't need this much food!" 

Ugh. I know. 
We don't NEED ALL this. 
But I LOVE ALL this. 
I WANT ALL this. 

Don't try to stop me. Don't ruin this for me. I want to do it my way today.  

And I want to do it for you. 

Our guests. Our guests joining us this year and for years to come. Whomever you are, I want to bless you. I want you to feel blessed by the fact that you can come to my home, relax in front of the tube and watch giant Snoopy balloons float over the streets of NYC. I want you to be blessed by a turkey and stuffing and pie and wine. I want you to be blessed by the fact that God has blessed all of us with each other.

I know this holiday is about family and friends and being thankful for all we've been blessed with by our loving and almighty Lord.  I am thankful. I try to be thankful each and every day. I try to go to bed each night with this thought leading me into prayer:

"What if you woke up tomorrow with only the things you thanked God for today?" 

If that doesn't throw you heart-first into a thankfulness prayer, well, shucks. I don't know what to do besides say a little prayer over you. 

So while I'm putting the time and effort into this Thanksgiving dinner, know that I'm doing it because I want to. I want to bless you. I don't want you to ask me ten times what you can do to help. I'll give you a job when I'm good and ready. In the meantime, have a glass of wine and enjoy being blessed.

This year's menu includes, but is in no way limited to,:

• Turkey
• Stuffing (God bless Great-Grandma Myrt for sharing this top-secret recipe. If I could only have one "Thanksgiving food" it would be this one.)
• Mashed Potatoes (homemade, obviously)
• Sweet Potatoes with brown sugar and marshmallows (duh) 
• Corn Casserole (Brian's favorite)
• Green Bean Casserole (Ella's and my favorite)
• Rolls (everyone's favorite)
• Apple Butter (we canned that last fall)
• Cinnamon Butter
• Cranberry Sauce (homemade from scratch, Ella's favorite)
• Gravy (I still let mom do this for me, she's so awesome at making gravy)
• Pumpkin Pie
• Pecan Pie
• Apple Pie

The good Lord only knows what I've left off the list, but rest assured there will be a big bowl of Chex Mix for anyone with parade-time, pre-feast munchies. My Mother-in-Law will bring her cheese ball and relish tray. Mom will help with the pies and everything else on Thanksgiving Day. My Sister-in-Law will offer to do the dishes. When I say "that's ok, I'll do it later", she'll say "I didn't have to cook, at least I can do dishes!" and I won't stop her. She does a really good job and it is a blessing to me. One of the biggest blessings, really.

Whatever table you find yourself at this Thanksgiving, consider it a blessing from the hostess. She wouldn't have invited you (at least in most cases) if she didn't want to bless you with this gift. Find a way to bless her back. Cleaning up leftovers. Washing dishes. Accepting the invitation and enjoying a relaxing and restful day of Thanksgiving. 

This Thanksgiving I encourage you to not only consider and verbalize your thankfulness, but feel it. Absorb it and own it. 

Be blessed.

TBT: An Open Invite

Dear TBT,

Seems lately there's this trend to post pictures on Thursdays. Old pics. Throwback pics. They call it Throwback Thursday. TBT. 
I'm not trendy. Never have been, never will be. I don't commonly participate in TBT for that very reason. But today I was inspired. Today everyone gets an invite to my TBT Party. Here's how it started...

On Wednesday's this little group of women gets together for lunch. Casual and easy. No fuss. Especially when I host. I'm so casual, easy and no-fuss I served my guests leftovers today. 
Classy? You bet. 
Appreciated? Affirmative. 
Somehow our post-lunch discussion turned to the idea that we were enjoying the kids' mac more than they were. It was a "treat" for us. We don't eat mac anymore... that's kid's stuff! Then someone mentioned bologna. Ahhhh! I love me a good bologna sandwich. 

"A bologna sandwich... yumm."
"On white bread"
"With mustard"
"No, with Miracle Whip"
"Blech"
"With Mayo and lettuce"
"Mayo, lettuce, cheese and... Doritos"

 "Crunch all you want, we'll make more."


Then came spaghettios. #gagmewithawoodenspoon. (I don't hashtag either.)  
I loved them as a kid, but had to go to the neighbor's house to get those and the bologna sandwiches. 

The list grew...
Tuna casserole 
Ham and Noodle casserole... does anyone really make casserole anymore? Or at least call it a casserole? The word is just odd now. 

Peachies.

Funyuns and Mt. Dew.




Pizza Rolls. 

I would now add zots and Clearly Canadian. And Orange Slice.  

 
So now we're thinking a TBT potluck and movie night. 
If potluck doesn't scream TBT, I'm done. 

Don't even ask, "What are you wearing tonight?" 
Neon
OR
Geometric Shapes
OR
Flannel with overalls (one strap), Dr. Martens.
OR
Gap Sweatshirt, rolled jeans, penny loafers.
OR
Parachute pants, Jordans.

We'll be in the basement drooling over Ren McCormack, Maverick, Ice and Slider, dropping Jolly Ranchers in our Zima, hiding the Busch Light outside the window in a snowbank, smoking Swisher Sweets and wearing Peachies on our ring fingers. 

Be there, or be square.  

Friends Forever,
Wednesday Lunch Bunch, A.K.A. Fab Four (or Five. Sometimes Sensational Six or Seven.)

A Bead in the Nose is Worth...

Yeah, you read that right. A Bead in the Nose is Worth...

This past weekend was fairly uneventful after our Halloween party. Chili, cinnamon rolls, lots of friends and about a gazillion and a half trick-or-treaters led us into a relaxing and calm weekend. Until about halftime of the Husker game on Saturday afternoon. 

"How do you get a bead out of your nose?" 
"I'm sorry, what did you say?"
"How do you get a BEAD out of your NOSE?"
"A BEAD OUT OF YOUR NOSE?" "Is THAT what you are saying?" 
"Uh-huh." "I got it out."
"Oh! So you don't have a bead stuck in your nose?" 
"Yes. I do. I got it out the first time." 
"So you stuck it back in?" "WHY???" 
"I dunno."

Bead. Nose. A Bead in the Nose. A purple one. STUCK.

So we dug out a flashlight and tweezers. But that didn't work. The purple bead was stuck. 
So the discussion of going to urgent care began.
So the hysteria set in. 
"I'm scared!" 

"Are they going to get it out?" 

"How will they get it out?" 

"Am I going to die?"  

"I don't want to have a bead in my nose!" 

"Why can't we go to Dr. Whitcomb?"

"Am I going to die?"

This is the mentality of a kid with a bead stuck in the nose. "I'm going to die." 

Seriously. Death was imminent for this child on Saturday afternoon. 

So I soothed as I drove. Lucky for us, Children's Urgent Care is about 3.5 blocks from our house. This means the drive wasn't as awful as it could have been. Children's Hospital is much farther away. I'm not sure I would have stayed as gentle, soothing, calming, etc for a multiple-mile drive across Omaha on a Saturday afternoon during a Husker game. 

In case you, some day, are faced with this same situation, I'll give you the 4-1-1 on beginning to attempt to remove a foreign object lodged in the right snot-spout. No charge. Gratis. Pro bono. FREE. 

First, the doc is going to ask you to hold your child on your lap, facing you, straddle-style. Then, through the tears of fear you'll be instructed to press the non-blocked nostril with one hand, while covering the child's mouth CPR-style and blow. If that doesn't turn the snot-spout on high, nothing will ya'll. Nothing will. (This would be a useful way to blow your kid's nose if they can't/won't on their own. FYI. My wish for you is that you never find yourself needing to employ this method.) 

In an ideal world, this would expel the little purple bead, sticking it to your cheek. Huzzah! Success!!! 

We don't live in an ideal world. So we tried again. And again. And... again. And my gag-prone kid threatened to throw up in my face each and every time. 

Finally dear ol' doc decided that wasn't going to do the trick. Really? I hadn't figured that out six blows ago. (I think he was enjoying the spectacle. The place was a tomb. Normal parents were watching the game, not taking their kid to Urgent Care for a purple bead. Purple. We aren't K-State fans. Couldn't it have at least been red?) 

Needless to say we have a bead-free nostril and a good understanding of what doesn't go in noses and ears. They removed it artfully with what boils down to being a stick. 

A stick. 

Shoot. 

Nobody died. 

Nobody even missed the 2nd half of the game.

We are missing $60. ($60 so far... the bill has yet to come)