Easy vs. Best

I love having conversations with my four-year-old. I always learn so much.

Take Monday, for example. The boys and I went to my parents' house for an early dinner with relatives I hadn't seen in years. I rushed around helping Mom get food on the table while feeding the baby and trying to maintain a conversation with the relatives. Meanwhile, my oldest son was happily playing with his cousin.

I should have made him sit down and eat, too. But I was busy, and he was happy, and I decided to take the easy road and avoid a battle over food and loss of play time. I decided to feed him later.

Next thing I knew, he and his cousin were eating cake! I should have stopped him right then, and made him sit down and eat dinner instead. But I was busy, and he was happy, and I decided to take the easy road and avoid a battle over food and loss of play time. I decided to feed him later, at home.

I'm sure you parents out there can see exactly where this is going. If I had stopped and thought about it for two seconds I would've seen it, too. But I was enjoying the rare privilege of adult conversation, and suddenly it was almost bedtime and we still had a 20 minute drive ahead of us.

And that's when it happened.

The Meltdown.

It started when my son and his cousin decided to have a race to decide who could eat the last ring pop. (Did I mention that they'd had candy in the midst of all this, too?) Of course my son, being younger and shorter, lost.

He did not take it well.

He stood there wailing and inconsolable. I tried everything I could think of to calm him down, but he could not calm down. I could see panic in his eyes--he wanted to calm down, but didn't know how to handle the way he felt. It was seriously the worst meltdown he has ever had in his entire life.

And of course he had it in front of relatives I hadn't seen since before college. How embarrassing.

A wave of guilt tempered my frustration at his behavior as I realized that it was rooted in my earlier "easy" choices. This poor kid, who had never missed a meal in his life, had skipped dinner and loaded up on sugar. The meltdown was inevitable, as was the stomachache that quickly followed.

Duh.

I felt like such a bad mom as I tried (mostly unsuccessfully) to calm him down enough to get him out the door and in the car so I could get him home and get some real food into him.

Our conversation on the way home went something like this:

SON (sniffling): Why does my tummy hurt so bad?
ME: Because you didn't eat your dinner, so you didn't have any good food, and then you ate a lot of sugar.
SON (accusingly): Why didn't you give me dinner, Mommy?
ME: I was trying to be nice. You were having so much fun playing with your cousin. I didn't think you'd want to stop playing to eat dinner.
SON (getting more upset): But now my tummy huuuuuuurts!! Why didn't you make me eat any good food?
ME: Because it would've been harder to make you stop playing and eat. I chose what was easier. And I was wrong, I'm so sorry. I think we both learned a lesson from this.
SON (skeptical): What?
ME: I learned that the easy choice is not always the best choice. And you learned that eating too much sugar makes you feel bad.
SON (after a pause): Mommy, why didn't you make me eat dinner?

Our conversation continued along those lines even after we got home. It always came back to, "Why didn't you make me eat dinner?" I had to answer that question many times.

I hope that drilled the answer into my head, because I know I will need to remember this truth as I encounter future parenting decisions: the easy choice is not always the best choice.

For example...

It's easy to react instead of respond.
It's easy to lecture instead of listen.
It's easy to prioritize grownups over children.
It's easy to focus on behavior and miss what's going on in the heart.
It's easy to give kids what they want and not what they need.
It's easy to avoid a battle and then end up losing the war.

This should not surprise me, because parenting is not easy. But it is worth it.

Just as the best choices are usually not easy, but, as my son and I both learned last week, they are usually worth it.

I wonder what he'll teach me this week?

My St. Patrick's Day Dilemma: Orange vs. Green

Celebrating St. Patrick's Day
with my second-born son

I'm Irish, in case you haven't noticed. The red hair kinda gives it away. My brother and sister have red hair, too, but our parents do not, so when we were younger and the whole family went out, say, for dinner, we would inevitably get asked The Question: "Where did you all get your lovely red hair?"

Though we dreaded the question, we had our answer down pat.

"It came with the head," we would reply, smiling serenely.

Beginning My Irish Journey

Our red hair really came from our paternal grandfather whose nickname was Red. He was Irish, and Catholic. My grandmother was not. She'd been raised Protestant, but when Red got sweet on her, his mom wouldn't let Grandma in the house until she converted.

Dad has a lot of stories like that, about the anger and bitterness he saw in some of his Irish relatives. Perhaps that is why we never celebrated St. Patrick's Day while I was growing up. I would tell the kids at school who tried to pinch me, "I don't have to wear green on St. Patrick's Day because I'm Irish." Oh, the logic of youth.

Ceili dance at a feis fundraiser (I'm 2nd from right)

Fast forward to college, when I fell in love with traditional Irish music. I started taking fiddle lessons at the Irish Cultural Center in Phoenix. There I heard about ceilis (KAY-lees), or Irish social dances, so I dragged some friends to one. I was hooked. A friend and I started taking Irish dance lessons together, and soon we were competing at feisana (FESH-na) and performing at schools and nursing homes and then I found myself planning to march with my dance school in the St. Patrick's Day parade!

My Dilemma: What Color To Wear?

When talking with a friend at church about my plans, he told me I should wear orange to the parade.

The Irish flag flies over Hance park during
the St. Patrick's Day Faire (I'm 2nd from right)

I wouldn't have understood the significance of that suggestion before getting involved in the Irish community. Now I knew the meaning behind the three colors in Ireland's flag. The green stripe on the left represents the majority of the country's population, the celtic Irish (typically Catholic) who had been oppressed for centuries by the invading English (typically Protestant), represented by the orange stripe on the right. The white stripe in the middle represents the hope for peace between the two factions.

That's a very simplistic explanation for the complex, deeply rooted conflict that has troubled Ireland for centuries. Most of the Irish I know define themselves in the green classification, though I do know some who fit in the orange category but prefer the white section instead.

Still, wearing primarily orange to the Phoenix St. Patrick's Day Parade would be interpreted by many as a very offensive act. 

When my friend suggested I should wear orange, I know he just meant that I am not Catholic, which is true. I am not. My parents were both raised Catholic, but were "born again" in college and left the Catholic church to join, for lack of a better term, Protestant churches.

But while I am not a Catholic, I am also not a Protestant.

I am a Baptist.

I say that not as a point of pride but classification. People calling themselves Baptist have been guilty of the same sins as people calling themselves Catholic or Protestant--or Jewish or Muslim or atheist or any other label they want to use to describe themselves. Sin is a human problem, and I am just as susceptible to it as the next person, no matter what I call myself.  I do not think that being a Baptist means I am better than a Protestant. It is just a label that better describes my beliefs. 

Beginning My Baptist Journey

It wasn't until I was in college that I understood the difference. Before that, I would describe myself as "a Christian who attends a Baptist church." I would sooner use the word Protestant to describe myself than Baptist.

Until I learned what both words really mean.

As I said, my parents converted from Catholicism in college, and I grew up attending a wide variety of churches. For various reasons we never stayed at a church longer than a year or so, and when I was a teen my parents, though still firm believers in Jesus Christ, stopped attending church altogether. 

Accompanying the singing at an outreach service
at ASU with my boyfriend (now husband) 

When I turned 20 I decided it was time I took responsibility for my spiritual development, and started attending churches with friends. I got quite involved with one church, where my friend's dad was a pastor, and then started also visiting my boyfriend's (now husband) Baptist church. The pastor there started preaching a series on Baptist history, and for the first time I learned what it actually means to be a Baptist. And I realized that I really was a Baptist; I had been for a long time. (A few weeks ago he covered a lot of the same material in one message which you can listen to here.)

I learned that my spiritual forefathers had been persecuted by both Catholics and Protestants. The English Protestants called the Baptists dissenters. That's not to say the Protestants and Baptists didn't agree about anything. They both placed a strong emphasis on individuals having access to the Bible in their own language so they could read it for themselves rather than rely on someone else to interpret it for them. At the time of the Protestant Reformation, the Bible was pretty much only available in Latin, which usually only the church leaders could read. We have many Protestants like Martin Luther to thank for the privilege we now take for granted today, of being able to read the Bible for ourselves.

But while Protestants had certain theological disagreements with the Catholic church leaders, they largely favored keeping the existing church/state structure intact. Baptists, on the other hand, broke completely from the Catholic church and established their own self-governed congregations, earning themselves the "dissenter" label.

That's not just because the Baptists were more cantankerous that the Protestants (though that might've been true; I've known a few cantankerous Baptists in my day and have probably been one myself from time to time ;-) but because their theological differences ran much deeper. It simply wasn't possible to remain a part of an organization that had such different views of the roles of the individual, the church, and the state. 

Baptists based their beliefs solely on a straightforward reading of the Bible, trying as much as possible to stay away from human traditions that had built up over time. For example, I'm studying the book of 1 Corinthians right now, which makes it extremely clear that God chose to use "the foolishness of preaching" as the ONLY way to spread the Gospel. Not the sword. Not political pressure. Not familial pressure. No, we are just to tell others about the good news about Jesus dying instead of us, and each individual is free to choose how they respond to that message.

A brief glance at Ireland's history shows that this view was not held historically by the Catholic or the Protestant church. Even today there is extreme cultural and familial pressure to remain in the church of your birth.

Since Baptists believed strongly in freedom of conscience and personal autonomy, they believed the church was made up of those who believe in Jesus Christ and his teachings--not those who lived in a certain area or fell under the jurisdiction of a certain political leader. Whereas historically Protestants and Catholics viewed the state as an arm of the church, Baptists have always believed in separation of church and state.

Today I think we all find the idea of forcing someone to join a certain church or profess certain beliefs repugnant. That is because freedom of conscience and separation of church and state were institutionalized in the First Amendment of the U.S. Constitution (thanks in no small part to the diligent efforts of Baptists) and have become ingrained in American culture.

Continuing My Journey

So that's why I call myself a Baptist, and why I did not wear orange to my first St. Patrick's Day parade. I wore red--my dance school's uniform. The next year, when I was privileged to be the queen of the parade while serving as the 2005 Arizona Colleen, I wore green. 

Since then, my involvement with the Phoenix Irish community has continued. I competed in Irish dance for a few years, developing friendships that continue to this day. Then I taught beginning Irish dance at the Irish Cultural Center for four years, retiring when my first child was born. I served on the Arizona Colleen Selection committee, and to this day I do graphic design work for the community. My husband and I traveled to Ireland for our honeymoon, and would love to return someday. We take our kids to the St. Patrick's Day parade every year.

That's why I wear all the colors of the Irish flag on St. Patrick's Day--because I'm Irish. After so many years in the Irish community, I've seen both good and bad in the Irish. We are, after all--whether Catholic or Protestant, Baptist or atheist--human. And as C.S. Lewis (an Irish Protestant, by the way) wrote about being a son of Adam or daughter of Eve, "That is both honour enough to erect the head of the poorest beggar, and shame enough to bow the shoulders of the greatest emperor on earth. Be content."

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

What I Wish I Had Known About Jamberry Nail Wraps Before I Bought Them

When I first started learning about Jamberry nail wraps, I tried to find a straight answer about how well the wraps work and how long they last, but all I could find were glowing testimonials and photos of people wearing freshly applied wraps. 

Yes, they looked nice, and yes, the designs were so fun, but what I wanted to see was photos of the wraps at the end of their lifespan!

In the end, my curiosity got the better of me, so I ordered some wraps so I could test them myself. Here is what I learned.

1. Yes, Jamberry nail wraps last 14 days...for some people (not me)

The Jamberry website says that wraps are supposed to last on fingernails for up to two weeks. What?! I love painting my nails but since polish only lasts for a few days on my hands, I've had bare nails pretty much since having kids. I just can't justify taking time to paint them when it will almost immediately start chipping and look horrible anyway (see the photo of my current three-day-old polish manicure).

Nail polish after 3 days

However, for me the wraps last about seven days. By that point the tips are pretty worn and tugging on my hair and generally annoying me, and my nails have grown out so much that I need a new set of wraps anyway. 

Does this mean Jamberry is lying? 

No--some people can get two or even three weeks out of their Jamberry manicures. It depends on what kind of nails you have. Some people have thin nails, some thick, some are more dry while others are more oily, some are very curved while others are more flat, etc. Those variables, as well as the type of wrap used (metallic, matte, etc.), the application method, and what the manicure is put through, all affect the longevity of a Jamberry manicure.

Jamberry wraps after 7 days

Apparently I am really hard on my nails. Here's a photo of my Valentine's Day manicure right before I removed it. If you aren't the mother of a toddler who still likes to throw food on the floor (requiring lots of time on hands and knees scraping hardened mandarin oranges from tile with your nails) hopefully your manicures will look better than this after a week. ;-)

But at seven days, wraps still last way longer than polish. I can justify taking time to apply them on a weekly basis.

Oh, and wraps last forever on toes--I've waited as long as six weeks before removing them, and they were still going strong!

2. Yes, Jamberry nail wraps are easy and fast to apply...after you get the hang of it

My first Jamberry mani took at least an hour to put on. Mostly because I was so terrified of messing it up. Below is a photo of the result. Not too bad, if I do say so myself! By my fourth Jam I had the process down pretty well and had gotten much faster. Now it takes me about 20 minutes (that does not include prep time--removing old wraps, pushing back cuticles, and cutting/filing nails--I usually do all that at a different time). This my weekly "Mommy time" -- after the boys are in bed, I put on an audiobook and get girly putting my on Jams! :-)

My first attempt at a Jamberry manicure

So, yes, there is a bit of a learning curve, but to be fair, nail polish isn't exactly easy to apply either. At least you don't have to wait for wraps to dry. There are several different application (and removal) methods; just open YouTube and search for "Jamberry application" and you'll find 11,000 videos! Try a few different techniques and you'll find the combo that works best for you.

3. Yes, the Jamberry mini-heater really does make a difference

I am a cheapskate. So there was no way I was going to spend an extra $20 on an official Jamberry heater when blogs said I could use a blow dryer or embossing gun and achieve the same results. That's what I used for my first three months of Jamberry manicures, before I caved and bought the mini-heater.

I'm glad I did; it makes a big difference. First, it is easier to use because you don't have to hold it, so you have both hands free during the whole application process. It saves time because you can leave it on while applying multiple wraps instead of turning it on and off. But most importantly, it perfectly heats the wraps in a few seconds, removing the guesswork so you avoid under- or over-heating wraps, and manicures last longer. Wraps go on easier and last longer when you use a Jamberry mini-heater.

4. Other things I've learned

• Patterns with light colors hide wear much better than solid or dark colored designs.
• Metallic wraps are more finicky to apply, the edges lift more quickly so manicures don't last as long, and they are a pain in the neck to remove because the metallic part sticks to the nail. 
• If you have very curved nails (like I do) use a tweezer to hold wraps while applying them so you can gently stretch them and avoid buckles.
• If you use oil to remove your wraps, wait at least an hour before applying a new set of wraps.
• Avoid immersing new manicures in water for an hour.
• Give your nails a break every month or so by going a few days without wraps on them.

So while Jamberry nail wraps didn't quite live up to the hype (they don't last as long as I'd hoped, and the learning curve was a little steep), I love them way more than I thought I would and have been using them almost continually for four months now. They are available in so many different designs that would be difficult or impossible to achieve with polish. Catching a glimpse of a fun, colorful design on my nails just makes me smile, and sometimes that is all I need to get me through a long day.

(And just to clarify, I don't sell Jamberry and am not being reimbursed in any way for this post. I wish! ;-)

Why I Like Legoland Better than Disneyland

Before you Disney lovers go all hater on me, let me clarify that I love Disneyland. I've been there several times and enjoy it even more as an adult than I did as a kid. But in this season of my life (mom with two little boys, ages 1.5 and 4), I love Legoland more. And here's why:

1. Legoland is Cheaper than Disneyland

I'm not saying Legoland is cheap. It's not. One day tickets are pretty pricey. But unlike Disneyland they run a lot of specials and you can buy discounted tickets at a lot of places. Last year we got our tickets through our local AAA office (so we got a discount on top of the current Legoland deal which was 5 day tickets for the price of 1!). Right now our Costco is selling three month passes for $84! Upgrading to memberships cost less than the price of another ticket. All this adds up to a lot of saving over Disneyland.

For example, two summers ago we went on our first family vacation, to Disneyland. We brought our two-year-old and our two-month-old, and our in-laws, and spent three days at the park. We had a blast, and I would like to go back again someday.

But last summer we took our family to Legoland instead. This time we brought along two more family members, and went to the park for five days instead of three. Oh, and we had to rent a minvan to haul everyone around.

So, admission tickets for two more people, three times the hotel expenses, and a week-long van rental...and our trip to Legoland was STILL cheaper than our trip to Disneyland!

Legoland is cheaper. Hands down. This allows me to enjoy my time at the park more, rather than stressing about "getting my money's worth" out of every minute. While at Disneyland, I couldn't help but calculate the ticket cost per hour, and weigh my enjoyment of each hour against the cost...yeah, I'm a little nuts like that.

By the way, when we first went to Legoland, I was skeptical that we would even want to go to the park for five days. We got a hotel within walking distance of the beach (Surf Motel, I highly recommend it) in case we wanted to do a couple of days on the beach instead of going to Legoland. But we ended up going to Legoland each day instead!

2. Legoland is Less Crowded Than Disneyland

Granted, I haven't been to Legoland during the peak season. The closest we came was Valentine's Day/President's Day Weekend, which was definitely more crowded, but still not nearly as bad as Disneyland on the least crowded day I've experienced.

But we have experienced both Legoland and Disneyland the week after Labor Day (different years) giving us a pretty apples-to-apples comparison. And Legoland was definitely much less crowded than Disneyland.

Miniland at night is magical!

It's totally understandable. I mean, can Emmet really compete with Mickey? Disneyland definitely has more magic than Legoland. More shows, parades, better rides, more well-known characters.

All that adds up to less crowds at Legoland. Oh, yeah! That means shorter lines for rides (granted, the rides at Disneyland are more worth the wait), for food, for photos with characters...and more time for enjoying the park!

I remember walking through Disneyland's Main Street at closing time, barely being able to move in the dense crowd. Ugh. Makes me claustrophobic just thinking about it.

Contrast that with walking through Legoland's Miniland at closing time. It's mostly deserted, and with the sun setting and the lights on in the New York City display, it has its own kind of magic. I always try to take this route while leaving the park, so I can pause while crossing over the Lions Gate Bridge to take in the view of the Statue of Liberty, and just savor the moment.

Maybe it's because I'm an introvert, but I just enjoy a less crowded park more.

3. Legoland has Better Food Options than Disneyland

I might be wrong on this one. It could be lack of memory or experience on my part. But I love the food options at Legoland. There are several restaurants throughout the park, each with their own theme, providing many kid-friendly options that are also palatable for adults: pizza, salads and sandwiches, pasta, burgers, hot dogs, Asian, BBQ. Our favorite is Pizza Mania, where our oldest gets a personal pizza for lunch every day. (Oh, well, it's vacation, right?)

There are plenty of quiet, shady spots to eat. Our favorite is the patio behind The Garden. It's a great place to stop for an hour or two to let the baby nap in his stroller while we enjoy our food and the peace and quiet.

Of course the food is a little pricey but members get 20% off which makes it a lot more doable.

Also, while they say coolers and outside food aren't allowed, this is not enforced at all. On our last trip we brought bread, etc., from home, assembled sandwiches in our hotel room, and brought them to the park for the adults to eat, so we only had to buy food for the kids. That made a big difference, and also let me justify splurging on treats like apple fries and churros with chocolate sauce. Yum!

4. Legoland is a Better Place to Play

The last time we went to Legoland, I think we went on a grand total of four rides during our three days at the park. Seriously. My son would rather play in one of the several play areas, his favorite being The Hideaways on Castle Hill, which is a giant three-story tree fort with several slides and climbing areas.

There is also a two-story play area in the Land of Adventure where kids can shoot foam balls through air-powered tubes, and Duplo Playtown, a big play area in Duplo Village that is great for toddlers and preschoolers.

And, of course, everywhere you go there are Legos to build with. I especially love the Lego play areas strategically located in the waiting areas for rides. While parents stand in line, kiddos can build with Legos. Love it!

Sure, we could (and do) play with Legos at home, but there's something about building with Legos at Legoland that sparks my four-year-old's creativity in a special way. Also they have giant foam bricks at Legoland which offer instant gratification as it takes only minutes to assemble a tower taller than a person, or a fort big enough for a little one! So rewarding.

I don't remember any play areas at Disneyland. It's a great place for kids to passively consume entertainment, but at Legoland kids are actively engaged in creating their own "magic."

Which brings me to my last (but not least) point...

5. Legoland is More Educational than Disneyland

This is something I'm especially sensitive to now that our oldest is in preschool. I'm always looking for teaching opportunities in daily life, and I love that Legoland is full of them. Beyond building with Legos, kids can learn how Legos are made at The Factory, practice driving at Driving School, test their creations at the Build & Test area, explore cause and effect by pushing buttons on the displays in Miniland, dig for fossils in Dino Island, see world landmarks on The Coast Cruise, and learn about fire safety at The Big Test show. There's even a Lego Mindstorms experience for older kids.

Maybe my memory is failing me, but I don't remember anything comparably educational at Disneyland. That's not necessarily a bad thing (everything doesn't have to be educational) but it's just one more thing I appreciate about Legoland.

I'm sure we will find ourselves at Disneyland again in the not-too-distant future. But for now we're getting good use out of our Legoland membership! It may not be "The Happiest Place on Earth" but it's my current happy place! 

(And just in case you were wondering, Legoland didn't pay me to write this or anything. But people ask me all the time for my opinion about Legoland since they know we have gone a few times, so I figured I'd put it all in a blog post. :-)

What I Got from The Giver

While watching The Giver recently I finally figured out why I love to read (some) dystopian fiction. It was quite a mystery to me for awhile, because while I love many kinds of books--historical fiction, sci-fi, children's lit, fantasy, YA, mysteries, non-fiction (pretty much anything)--I'm not big fan of violence, or less-than-happy endings, so why do I enjoy (some) dystopian fiction?

Because it makes me think. And I love a book (or movie) that makes me think. Especially when it helps clarify and express thoughts I'd already been thinking.

That's why I add the caveat some dystopian fiction. I really dislike dystopian fiction if it is gratuitously violent and lacks any redeeming philosophical quality, like, say, The Maze Runner. I kept reading after the first book because I thought I knew where the series was going, but by the third book it was clear I'd been wrong, though I did slog it out to the end for the sake of completion. Ugh. I wish I hadn't.

On the other hand, I really enjoyed reading The Giver several years ago (I think it was my first dystopian novel), and watching the movie recently reminded me why.

The Giver starts out with a seemingly perfect society, where no one suffers, there is no crime, all material needs are provided for, and really there are no questions or unknowns. It is organized, logical, chaos-free.

I was fascinated. Wouldn't we all love to live in a world with no suffering, no doubts, no needs?

Of course the truth eventually emerges--this seemingly perfect world is missing something very important: love. That is impossible to experience in a world where all choice has been eliminated so there is no chance that anyone will experience pain. Yes, the possibility for bad and hurtful choices has been removed, but so has the possibility for good and loving choices.

Without freedom there can be no real love.

Without love, life isn't really worth living.

Living without pain is not worth living without love.

Turn it around and you have the message that suffering is a necessary byproduct of love, because true love requires the freedom to choose, which also by necessity requires the freedom to choose to hurt.

In other words, this secular dystopian novel articulates quite well the thoughts I have had in response to a question often asked of Christians: How can a good God let bad things happen?

It's a question I struggle with myself. I always seem to come back to the same conclusion: God could have made us robots who always choose to do the right thing. Then there would be no crime, no war. There would also be no love. And since love is one of God's defining characteristics, this would be an impossible state for creatures "made in his image."

He made us like him. Made us to love.

After all, the two greatest commandments, according to Jesus, are: "Love the Lord your God with all your heart, mind, and soul, and love your neighbor as yourself" (Matthew 22:37-39).

The fact that these are commandments implies the truth communicated in The Giver--we have a choice as to whether we will or will not love.

Unfortunately, many people choose to not love--God, or others, or even themselves. That option must be available to them or true love is impossible. And that is the source of pain in our world. People choose to hurt, betray, deceive, abandon, dominate, bully, harass, neglect...the list goes on and on.

So...that's it? We're stuck with this sucky world, doomed to endure the consequences of other people's choices as well as our own, and the consolation prize is that we are capable of love (though it often proves elusive, thanks to that dratted free will thing)?

No, that's not it. Thank God he didn't abandon us to this horrid hell of our own making. He knew what would happen when he made humans with this freedom to choose; he knew what we would choose. So before he even made the world, he made a plan to rescue us from the consequences of our own choices, taking the worst of it upon himself.

This is what differentiates the Christian message from any dystopian fiction that I have read--it gives us hope that we can have love AND no suffering, eventually, in Heaven.

I, for one, am looking forward to that!

All or Nothing vs. Some and Something

I am a dreamer.
I am a planner.
I am a perfectionist.
And...I am a procrastinator.

Put it all together, and what do you get? Not a whole lot done, that's for sure.

Perhaps that's why my longest-running favorite quote (I have many of them, but this was the first to earn that distinction) is "Nobody made a greater mistake than he who did nothing because he could only do a little" by Edmund Burke.

That was always me. Doing nothing because I wanted to do EVERYTHING, and if I couldn't do everything, well...I would do nothing.

For most of my adult life I've been trying to overcome this very debilitating character flaw brought on by a perfect storm of otherwise helpful personality traits.

When I started working at my church as a graphic designer, I quickly became overwhelmed by the number of projects requiring a creative touch. My perfectionist designer habits were not helpful in this job! Thankfully a fellow perfectionist friend was also on staff, and as we worked together on one particular project, we coined a phrase that I have used as a reminder many times in the years since: "We can do it perfectly...or we can get it done."

Which has a lot to do with how/why I started blogging.

Along a similar vein, I have always empathized with Prince Henry in Ever After when he said, "I used to think, if I cared at all, I'd have to care about everything, and I'd go stark raving mad!" There are so many good causes out there that it can be overwhelming to consider getting involved in any of them--how do you choose?

So after taking Randy Alcorn's Theology of Money class at church last semester, I knew God wanted me to invest more in eternity by "looking after orphans and widows in their distress (as James described "perfect religion" in James 1:27)...but where to start?

My sister and I have been making candles for a few years now. We make them as gifts and sell a few, too...originally we'd dreamed of a business that would keep us both home with our kids, but we are too busy right now to bring that to fruition. (Or I am I just too much of a planner/perfectionist/procrastinator? Hmm...) Eventually I had hoped to turn enough profit to start a non-profit, so our candles could bring the light of hope to people around the world.

As I said, I am a dreamer.

And the planner/perfectionist/procrastinator in me had always said, "One day we might be able to do that."

But I am trying not to listen to that particular voice in my head any more.

Cue Edmund Burke! I may not be able to do much right now. I may not be able to do it perfectly. But what I can do, I want to do.

And right now, what I can do is sell the candles I have made and give the profits to charity.

So that's what I'm doing!

My sister was totally on board with the idea, so we had our first candle fundraiser last December. She was burdened to help homeless children after working with a class of homeless first graders. If we'd waited for my planner/perfectionist/procrastinator side to be satisfied with researching charities, we would never have given the money away. But I prayed about it, was reminded of the ministry to Phoenix's poor/homeless that Andrew's dad has interacted with in the past, and took the plunge.

We raised $50. It doesn't sound like much to me. But it was something. It was a start! And it was a blow to my paralyzing planner/perfectionist/procrastinator side.

Now we're doing another fundraiser, for Valentine's Day. I read an article in the Desert Shamrock about the sex-trafficking that takes place in my very own city, and a ministry that helps the victims. What a worthwhile cause!

Is it the only worthwhile cause? Is it the most worthwhile cause? Probably not, but you know what?

I can do it perfectly or I can get it done.

A journey of thousand miles begins with one step.

You eat an elephant one bite at a time.

Two steps forward and one step back.

Never put off 'till tomorrow what you can do today.

Did I miss any cliches about overcoming procrastination?

Swimming Lessons for Mommy

Am I the only one who compares myself to others?

Hmm...that was a comparison, wasn't it.

Yeah, I've got it bad.

I've been self-conscious for as long as I can remember, worrying about what other people think. But I didn't realize how much it affected me as a parent until our son entered the Goldfish class at his swim school.

I mean, sure, parents are always comparing their kid to other kids, right? It's not always a bad thing; my son was born three months after my sister's son, so we were constantly comparing notes about our boys' development and issues we encountered. This type of comparison can be a helpful way to identify (and learn how to deal with) problems.

But often comparison is less about helping our kids than it is a way to make ourselves feel better about our parenting. Am I right?

After all, parenting is a really scary thing. The nurse hands you this screaming, squirming, breakable little being, and somehow you're supposed to not only keep him or her alive but also magically know how to nurture this unique person into a responsible contributing member of society? That's scary!

It's a hard job, and we constantly wonder whether we're doing the right thing, and question our decisions, so when we see someone else's kid acting up or doing something our kid would never do (ahem, really?) is it any wonder that we give ourselves a little pat on the back? "At least I'm a better parent than THAT person," we secretly think.

Or maybe it's just me.

Such comparisons might seem like a harmless little ego boost at the time. But I've learned that they always come back to bite you.

For example, my son started swim lessons at the tender age of three months, and really excelled at first. I confess I had brief dreams of him competing in the Olympics someday. (Don't we all do that with our kids? Or am I the only one? Wait--comparing. Sorry!) And, yes, comparing his swimming with that of the other kids made me feel better about myself.

So imagine how it felt when the tables were turned on me and suddenly my kid was the one screaming instead of swimming.

We had taken a two month break from lessons when our second son was born, and when we came back, our firstborn had developed a fear of the pool that took a long time to work through. By the time he was back to his pre-sibling skill level, his peers had moved on to other classes.

Then he turned three and moved into Goldfish, his first class without mommy in the water with him. His teacher had assured me that this usually helped kids progress, but not my kid, apparently. While his classmates mastered skills and moved up to Jellyfish, he continued to struggle with basics.

I was so frustrated.

My husband asked if my frustration had more to do with what other people thought (or what I thought they thought) of me and my parenting than it did with our son's lack of swimming ability. (He knows me so well.)

That's when I realized...comparing kids goes both ways. Sometimes you come out looking good. Sometimes you don't. But either way, judging the quality of our parenting based on comparisons with others is a losing proposition. 

Each kid, each family, is different, with a set of problems and priorities and privileges not quite like any other. Often these variables are invisible to outsiders, making it impossible to accurately assess what we see in public. It's like comparing apples and oranges. What's the point? Any good or bad feelings you get out of the exercise are likely unwarranted.

Rather than being frustrated with my kid for not being like his peers, I needed to deal with him as an individual, and figure out what I could do to help him get over this bump.

So, I talked to his teacher. She suggested practicing at home. Duh. It was something I knew we should be doing, but hadn't made a priority. Now that changed! If we weren't able to swim during the day, our son did dry runs on his bed before going to sleep. He improved a little, but his fears persisted, distracting him during class.

I realized he needed a little extra motivation to keep his mind off his fears.

We bought him a toy that he really wanted, and told him he would get it when he earned his ribbon for completing the skill he was struggling with. Before class, I reminded him of the promised reward. "When you're trying to do your backfloat, and you want to roll over instead, think about that garbage truck toy! Remember that you want it more than you want to roll over!"

He ran up to me after class clutching his ribbon saying, "Mommy, I kept thinking about the garbage truck, and it worked!"

Now, I'm not advocating constant bribery of our children, but sometimes having something to look forward to can help cut through fear and panic.

After all, this is how God "parents" us parents. We are each unique individuals, and, just as the master did in the parable of the talents, he has given us each a unique set of responsibilities (a.k.a. children). Our job is to do the best we can with what he has given us, knowing that when he sees the return we have made on his investment, he will say, "Well done, good and faithful servant. You were faithful over a little; I will set you over much; enter into the joy of your master." (Matthew 25:21)

The truly great thing (which is sometimes the only thing giving me the courage to get out of bed in the morning) is that he doesn't leave us to do the job alone. One of my all-time favorite Bible passages is Matthew 11:28-30, where Jesus says, "Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light."

Yes, parenting is hard and scary, but I have the best help I could possibly ask for. I don't need to compare myself or my kids to others to see how I'm doing or get an ego boost. I'm accountable to just one person, and the reward he promises is way better than any short-lived warm fuzzies gained at someone else's expense!

Back to swimming lessons: a few weeks ago our son FINALLY mastered all the skills in the Goldfish level. As his achievement was announced to the school, no one was cheering louder than me! It had been a tough class--for both of us. We'd both had some hard lessons to learn.

And now...on to Jellyfish! 

I wonder what we'll be learning now?

(Gulp.)