welcome to my brain . net

Go find your Willie, before the sun sets

2009-11-29T10:38:00.004-06:00

My Sunday's have changed drastically.

They were once always the same. It started the night before, laying out clothes for the kids. Michael was in charge of ironing. At some churches, he would have to get there early on Sundays. Those were the times I wanted to kill myself. Getting all of the kids ready by myself. Fed, changed, whatever. Getting myself ready. Making sure I had whatever I needed to sing/play guitar/teach.

When he became a pastor of an institutional church, he refused to go to church on Sunday mornings without his family. We all got there a bit early, but always with him. Always. He rode with his family. None of this getting-there-early-to-prepare/pray/hide from the children stuff. I cannot begin to explain how much I respected him for that decision. It made his life harder. He put us first. Amazing.

Now, Sunday's are never the same. Last week I visited a church in Austin, while my husband was at home with the kids. Sometimes we gather as a family on Sundays. Sometimes we gather on other days. Sometimes we sing together. Sometimes we read together. Sometimes Michael is filling in for a pastor somewhere in the area. Sometimes we go with him. Sometimes we don't. Sometimes we have guests arriving at the park. Sometimes you can hear the crickets chirping.

Today, Michael is at a church about 90 miles away. The rest of us are just chilling. Rocky was headed down to use the park restrooms (because of a recent dialoguing-with-pee episode) when Willie stopped him. Sent him back down to our house with a styrofoam cup to see if I had any coffee. Poured him some and told Rocky to tell him I spit in it. Watched him out the window as they laughed together.

Twenty minutes later, the kids are yelling that Willie is back. That's my clue. Willie just needed to hang out with someone today. So, I headed out back with my cup of coffee and sat on the steps so we could talk, and he could smoke.

So it went for about the next hour. Since we've moved into the house, our interactions are not so constant. I'm glad he showed up to let me know he just needed to connect. Granted, it can be tough. The cigarette smoke always gives me a headache. He had a lot of drainage today, and he does not use kleenex. I mean, why would you waste trees when you can just depress one nostril and blow out the other side just fine ... without even breaking your conversation?

And then, there is the hacking and hacking and ... yeah ... upchucking of coffee a few times. Again, without even breaking conversation.

It was the conversation that pushed me through the desire to dry heave. We talked about family and the holidays. Talked about God, and drinking, and sobriety. Had a very fiery exchange on legalizing marijuana (fiery, because we both agree it should be legal, and were going off on the nimrods who still make it their crusade). Which led to talks about his constant pain in his legs. Why he quit drinking. What his life was like before, and how now - even in the weathered body and upchucking and scraggliness - his life is so much fuller and brighter and enjoyable.

There is nothing ... no program, no curriculum, no order of service ... which can replace the connection of two humans. So, if you did a lot today, but forgot to do the most important thing ... connecting ... go find your Willie before the sun sets.

Oh my cow. That's the official welcometomybrain.net t-shirt!

"Go find your Willie, before the sun sets."

Cafe Press ... I'm on it!

UPDATE:

You can mock me if you want. I will completely understand.

The Official T-shirts of "Welcome to my Brain Dot Net"

Screw Black Friday

2009-11-27T09:05:00.002-06:00

It's 9:06 am, and I am still in my p.j.'s.

Still in my bed.

We've told the kids they can have toast for breakfast (meaning: fix it yourself).

There is absolutely nothing we need to buy today - except some milk, but you know what I mean.

There is nothing I need.

Nothing.

And things I want? Maybe a full-body massage. Something beneficial to my health and totally consumable. We are still downsizing. We have so very much.

I am so very happy. Content.

Delighted, even.

Magical Milk Pic-o-the-Week

2009-11-24T07:49:00.002-06:00

(photo by reader and new online pal who I stalk regularly, over at We Are Fambly)

My favorite pics are from actual, real-live readers. So, don't think you can't submit one ... cause you can. christinemoers [at] hotmail [dot] com

Freaky Random Day and Linkage

2009-11-23T08:09:00.006-06:00

Hold on to your chair. I've got all sorts of crap to share.

FIRST, I was able to run away yesterday. Spent the whole day in Austin, alone, per my husband's instructions.

Dear husband ... I love you. Don't ever change.

Started my day with all the Stoners in Austin. Finally got to hear the Aaron Ivey band in person (I know, I know ... I'm behind). Laura and Jimmie came here to camp not too long ago. It was great seeing them again. And, of course, I was able to FINALLY meet Jamie IRL.

It was very sunny. We were very squinty.

Of course, the BEST part was meeting little Miss Story, and listening to her snore next to me all the way through church.

Yes, I was able to get a pic of her smiling. I like to believe it's because I'm magical.

So, then it was .... hmmmmm ... IKEA or South Congress? I mean, I was already RIGHT THERE. Big shock, I know. I spent the next several hours digging around in stores like this.

Then it was Pei Wei, and bookstores and a MOVIE. I saw "Precious." One of the most painful movies I have ever seen in my life. It would not have been nearly as gut-wrenching before parenting Rocky and Mar. Yet, if forced me to remember how a child's brain works when they are being traumatized. They leave the present ... the reality. They must, to survive. So, see it. It will cut you in half, but see it anyway.

I never did make it to IKEA. I know I have to come back in the near future to order boring, random, lost parts (due to the move). So, it wasn't too big of a deal.

My amazing husband also sat the kids down and worked them, therapeutically, through how they would handle me being gone, and returning. I'm still talking them down off their respective cliffs this morning, but thus far things are not horrible.

So, it was a great day.

NOW, let me link you to some things I have been meaning to share:

A college student in Texas declined a new car from his parents (his other car was still just fine), and asked, instead, if he could donate the money as a matching grant to Heartline. Yeah. Amazing, huh? So, get over there and see how you can help out.

Have an old college friend, whose child is a part of a photography contest thingy. She is #6, and is just about the cutest thing to land on the planet. I can't put my finger on it, but this kid owns me. I could just eat her up. So, check it out, and don't vote stupidly. ;)

My new online friend, Sara, is doing a month of giveaways. Her family plans to come and stay here for a bit in the spring. I am so excited, I could spit. I mean, I will get lots of time with Sara (whose idea of a great cocktail is a green smoothie) and her two delicious girls. I think there may be a husband in the mix, too. Check out her stuff. Check out her blog. You won't be disappointed.

And finally, I have been chosen as a "MomSpotter" for BlogHer. Basically, the MomSpotters just tweet about our days, and what it is like to parent in a digital age. Sprint is sponsoring us, and giving us all our own little devices from which to tweet (twit?). Still waiting for my 4G wireless thing-a-mah-jig to get here. Will be amazing. Can't wait. And, check out this cool map thing of all of us at the Family Connections group. We're like floating heads in a battleship game.

stupid, stupid, stupid

2009-11-20T08:35:00.003-06:00

I watched the 6 yr old devour almost a whole watermelon by herself. I joked about the insane amount of pee we would be seeing later. ha. ha. So funny.

This morning, "Mom, the hallway smells like poop."

Eh. Maybe someone has gas.

Another kid, "Mom, I'm pretty sure the girl's room smells like poop."

Alright, lets go look and see if one of the cats had the runs during the night.

6 yr old is still asleep. Looks up at me groggily, with face and hands covered in poop ... and all the delightful details of said poop.

So, the ha-ha-so-funny watermelon gorging ended up in a surprise middle-of-the-night explosive poop. My heavy sleeper did what any God-fearing 6 yr old does during the night, and played in her pants while sleeping like a log.

OH, and guess how I found out our bathroom shower is painfully clogged?

Mmmm. Hmmmm.

I think it should be a law of nature, that when you deal with the kind of stuff you have in our home, there should no other "stuff." None! Somebody make that happen, K?

Oh, and send me something to burn the smell out of my nose. Thanks.

Holy Cow's Milk

2009-11-18T12:43:00.004-06:00

It started as a day where no one was on restriction - at all - in any way.

And then ...

One of these gentlemen chose to get mumbly. Once corrected, he got worse. THEN, we sat down to do some spelling, and he started writing in print (which to the Average Joe, sounds like nothing - although, we have been doing spelling in cursive for ohhhhhh ... let's see ... 18 months now!). It's the little things that make you want to swallow your face. I have no idea what that means.

"Thank you so much, dear, for letting me know you don't like to be corrected. As always, I follow through on my promises." Consequence laid out.

I'm sure you can't fathom who's trauma bond kicked in?

Fast forward 2.5 hours, after choosing to go to the field and destroy some things and call me a "Jerk A**" ... before finally talking through her feelings ... and we could sorta' kinda' laugh about it.

Well, DURING the last trek of time in the "get it all out field," one of my neighbors came by. We just met yesterday. He is a friend of Dr. Bob's. We have now spent a few hours in just two days talking about all sorts of things: the history of this area (fascinating), his bee co-op (fun), family (he has two kids), our similarities and differences (many of both).

He has chickens. Today he brought me this:

AND THIS:

That's a huge jar of raw milk from his neighbor's cow. The other jar is full of 9-yr-old moonshine.

Send all your winter ails to me this year, and I'll hook you up with a hot toddy! That is, if I don't keep having mornings like today.

Maybe you should call first.

Magical Milk Pic-o-the-Week

2009-11-17T06:08:00.002-06:00

Refugee Lapland woman, known as a skolt, breastfeeding her baby during the Russo-Finnish War in 1940.

(photo by Carl Mydans)

Reactive Attachment Disorder LOVES Homeschool

2009-11-16T17:18:00.005-06:00

If by "LOVES" you mean absolutely detests and would rather eat your own vomit.

While Mar is totally attaching, she is still clinging with all her might to the whole entitlement thing. That lingering diagnosis of Oppositional Defiant Disorder wants to stay for the party. She was busy doing outlandish behaviors and did not get to try out for the musical. Her sister is now in a three-week stint of performances. Sense of Entitlement says, "This is not acceptable. I should be in that musical and I should never, ever have to do anything to earn it."

Enter: more bad behaviors ... followed by more correction and/or consequences.

Mar does her schoolwork wrong on purpose when her feelings are big and suffocating her. Always has. Maybe, always will. She also did it while in public school, but because we educate at home, it worsens when some issues of entitlement has triggered her ("What? You think you can give me a consequence for spilling water on the table and leaving it? Um, no thank you. I do not do consequences. So, I'll just spell everything wrong today.").

Corey once posted on how well unschooling can compliment children with a history of trauma (and I could not find the specific post, Corey - sorry!). Children learn ... like, all the time. Many of you have asked about the challenges of educating a child who is doing everything they can to dishonor you and push you away. Here are my thoughts.

First - stop worrying about it! Really. You will not be able to gauge where a child is academically if they do not want you to. So, sneak in the back door.

Mar sits with us every day during school right now. She wants to draw attention to herself. She wants to upset me by doing things incorrectly. So, she sits and participates in everything we do. However, if it requires any grading or competition, she just writes her answers for herself. I do not take her papers. I do not look at her answers (occasionally I can sneak a peek without her noticing). If she knows I am going to look at her paper, she will screw the whole thing over. Instead, I blow it off and dig it out of the trash later.

Our kids will usually do some things right and choose which things to do wrong. Pay close attention. Mar will many times do everything right except for one section ... or just one row. However, she has already given me a great idea of what she has learned. Amazingly, she typically is well beyond grade level. For instance, she was once doing multiplication and ended up dividing several problems. Perfect division. She put thought into how she would do it wrong, and sure enough she said, "Oh I forgot and did the other thing." And the really amazing part? She had not yet ever been taught division.

Unschooling, my friends. Our kids are sponges.

Because of the many special needs in our home, my children thrive most with structure. So, we will always have organized schoolwork (and bedtimes and excursions, etc.). Looks like Mar is just sitting against the wall screwing through every thing, but she absorbs all of it. This week she corrected something I said. "Remember what you read last week, Mom?" Yeah ... she wasn't even in the ROOM for that.

When she is on restriction, I choose her books and activities for her. Yes, she will lie and tell me that, in fact, she DID read all five books in one day (I throw in one more difficult and longer book as a gauge). Yet, eventually, she makes her way through them. She will screw up finger knitting on purpose, but she will do a bit of it correctly first and THEN screw up.

I am not worried about her education. I am worried about her continued attachment and her ability to regulate when those still debilitating feelings alter her life. When she is in these modes, I have much more control over what she is exposed to. It's actually a beautiful thing.

When flow comes after the ebb, then she participates again and doesn't mind me seeing her effort. She will have amazing handwriting. She'll be actually playing the recorder, instead of squawking every three notes. Perhaps next week, once the musical is over? Or not. Either way, I just keep making sure she has plenty to absorb in the world around her, even when we have to keep it small.

(photo by ivan petrov)

Dear Mom,

2009-11-14T15:25:00.004-06:00

Dr. Bob says you are welcome to his docks anytime (actually, he has now made that offer to ANY of our guests! WHOO! HOOO!).

Come see me soon, Mom! You can bring Dad, too, if you want. :)

Told you it was great! Thinking we should have Christmas down here??

And here's a little something for everyone else, as well:

Do unto others ...

2009-11-14T10:49:00.001-06:00

Trauma Bonds - You Gotta' Keep 'Em Separated

2009-11-13T10:20:00.005-06:00

Trauma bonds.

Mmmmm. A phrase which warms the cockles of some of our hearts. *cough* Children who come from traumatic histories share a bond ... a trauma bond. For children who have lived together during that trauma, it can be even more pronounced.

What does this mean - this "trauma bond" thing?

Well, it means that one child can have an emotionally strong day and really be rocking along quite nicely. Then their sibling starts to crash. The sounds, the familiarity, the flashbacks ... it can cause them both to tank. They play off each other. It can be a very, very toxic combination. And if they are BOTH already having a bad day - yowza.

I have watched it in my home, and it still saddens and fascinates me. The trauma bond between Mar and Rocky was so intense that it hindered Rocky's healing for a very long time. Mar took the big sister role, even though he is three years older. He was terrified to stand on his own and move forward without her. She was all he had ever had, and he wasn't sure he wanted to shift the perceived power and control onto himself. He wasn't sure he could trust us. He didn't trust his sister, but she was all he knew.

THEN, when he did start to make those emotional moves away from her - YIKES. She was not too happy. That was yet another time of extreme regression. It was u.g.l.y.

How did we balance it and get them to this point? Well, first and foremost, we kept their lives very separated for a very long time. They could not be in the same room together without an adult, or they would be fighting. Period. It was constant. And when I say constant, and you think, "Heck, my kids fight all the time." Um ... please understand that you are probably using the word "constant" as an exaggeration. I am not.

Not even close.

Rocky and Mar could not say anything in a kind voice to one another. It was rare, and usually superficial. Yet they craved to be together. They were feeding off the trauma. We had to carefully determine who sat where at meals around the table. They could not be right next to one another or across from one another. They were not allowed to play together. It was just too much. We had to keep them separated so they could practice interacting with people in an emotionally healthy way. Then, when that was much more routine, we started to widen the boundaries, so they could practice being together.

That was a year and half ago. Now, Rocky and Mar can play together unsupervised. Now, they fight in age appropriate ways, although they kick tail when it comes to resolving conflict (that's what all that therapy and therapeutic parenting will do for you!). If one of them has a bad day, we still sometimes will have to come in and make the decision for them that they are being a trigger to each other, and have them play apart. Yet, night and day - NIGHT AND DAY from where they used to be.

The last year of my life has certainly been the most exhausting year of my life. It has taken so much of my time, to provide a safe place for my kids to heal. Yet, I have taken it very seriously. I have taken on very few outside commitments and built in times of rest and relaxation from my kids on a VERY regular basis. I have made myself available to them, so if we need to stop, drop and have an hour of therapeutic intervention on a Tuesday morning, we can do it. It is for a season.

And while they started separate, they have found their way back to each other and can finally share true love and a healthy bond. Totally worth it.

Come Out and Play - The Offspring

(photo by Michal Zacharzewski)

Happy Thursday

2009-11-12T14:35:00.003-06:00

* I love to see the evidences of God. They are everywhere. People. Nature. Words. Circumstances. Some days I feel like I'm squinting to see them, and other days they are like flashing neon signs. They're all beautiful. I have to remember to stop and breath it all in.

* Met another neighbor. I'm in love with him. He IS older than my dad, but ... well, let me explain. He is a retired science professor. Does research at UT in his spare time. Has built a cabin over near the water. Has a greenhouse. The cabin has an outdoor shower and a composting toilet (he had me at "composting toilet"). He gave us two banana trees. Walked us down one dock, through the woods to the other. Teaches my kids something new with every breath. I heart him.

* Dr. Bob is thinking about finishing the cabin and then renting it. You guys will be the first to know!

* Presh just took some mail to Willie. Came back, "Mom, you will never believe this. I knocked and I could hear him running around inside, trying to get his pants on. I gave him his mail and he didn't even have the buckle done. He's such a TOOT!" I have no idea where she gets that. I mean, it's not like I call him a toot constantly ... or anything.

* Mar had several days off restriction and then chose to go back on today. Several weeks ago, when we instituted the "all trash talk, fits, or blatant disrespect through noise or body has to spend 30 minutes in the field," we watched much of it disappear. Every now and then she'll get that glimmer in her eye and I'll see her want to stomp or what-not, and I'll start sniffing around her. "Do I smell someone who needs some field time to get all of that out?" And she reigns it in. Now, she spends a good half hour just crying in her bed, when she starts restriction. Nothing disruptive, and it seems to help her. She is doing some heavy grieving over leaving some of these behaviors behind. Just THINKING about it makes her miss them. We're in a little routine, and will let her keep practicing life without them ... in small increments.

* Andy Roon's tics continue. It's a little on the unusual side. They started about 9 months ago, and have stayed steady. I guess, perhaps, he had more motor tics over the years than we gave credit too. Twitchy Mac helped me to train myself to block out the vocal tics, so we're all tolerating them swimmingly. We're quite a show, this family of ours.

* Have I mentioned that I knocked over a shelf last week and broke out a window? No?

* Okay - off to decide where to put the banana trees.

The Making of Christine's Dreads

2009-11-10T21:18:00.002-06:00

WFMW

Magical Milk Pic-o-the-Week

2009-11-10T06:17:00.000-06:00

This photo is of a mother named Norah. She lives in Uganda. During this little snippet of time, she was nursing two of her babies ... she has triplets.

(photo by DrSmyhre)

A day I have never dreaded

2009-11-09T11:05:00.005-06:00

It has been years in the yearning.

I started my dreads this past week.

We are slowly adding them. I say "slowly," because I am doing them and involving my kids as much as they like. My chocolate girls, in particular, are a vital part of this process. I tell them I love their hair, just exactly the way it is. I hug their braids as they pile down from their scalp. I giggle with them when they stick up after a good night's sleep. I love feeling that puffy goodness, which turns and flips in all different directions.

And now I reflect that beauty.

So many other reasons for locking my hair ... many of which involve a simplified lifestyle, and no longer being enslaved to my roots.

So, there you go. My big hair announcement.

Happy Monday.

My thoughts on "The Gay's" adopting and marrying

2009-11-06T05:34:00.002-06:00

Thought I'd follow up on my recent post. As you can imagine, I've received a ~~gazillion~~ few emails. Most are referring to insurance, but I'll hit on the HOMOsapiens today. Before I start, let me say that there are plenty of you who will absolutely disagree with me on this. Heck - I used to disagree with me on this! It is where I am with Christ. I do not believe it makes me "ahead" of you or "behind" you. It's just me ... on my journey ... with my Creator. I have a habit of getting snarky (that's what the unpopular kids in school learned to use as a means of fitting in - sad attempts at humor). When it comes to these issues, I never want to hurt anyone - ever, much less disappoint anyone. However, it will happen in this post today. We disagree, and I think that is okay. Maybe you don't ... and that's okay, too.

So, on with the show ...

I love, love, LOVE it when I hear someone use the phrase "The Gay's." Sounds like you're talking about "The Partridge Family." No, it's not politically correct by any means, but I will say it's one of the cutest forms of uncomfortable labeling I have ever heard.

"The Gay's."

heh. Still makes me giggle. Kinda' like how Willie refers to my youngest as "The Little Black One." Soooooo off the charts inappropriate, but genuine, none-the-less. And it is said endearingly.

If you know me personally, or for any length of time, you know that I think it's fine for anyone to adopt ... as long as they have proven themselves capable. Period. Beyond that, I have no argument. So, yeah. That means I'm cool with "The Gay's" raising kids. I'm cool with single parents raising kids. I'm cool with grandparents raising kids. Every child and every home is different. No system is perfect and there are mess-up's. Sometimes there are catastrophic mess-up's. Yet, there are wonderful adults who daily commit themselves to the lifetime of children ... and it is beautiful.

Not everyone SHOULD adopt, but for the people who are qualified, prepared and willing, I think those children are blessed. If I thought that only those who believe and follow Jesus Christ, and are active in their local church are the only people who should be parents ... then I should be trying to pass laws to stop any other person in any other circumstances from adopting.

Yet, that's not what people do. Their concerns just lie with "The Gay's."

I believe you can have a different theology ... heck, a different faith system (or no faith system) from me and be a great parent. I know lots of Christ followers. I would not give all of them a recommendation to an adoption agency. Not by a long shot. Wouldn't give all of my gay friends a recommendation to an adoption agency. And even in that, it doesn't mean those people won't reach a point where they would be able to give an adopted child all they need.

Now, because I believe it is absolutely okay for "The Gay's" to adopt, I also believe it is absolutely okay for them to marry.

Ya' know, if marriage had only ever been something practiced by a certain religion, and those churches were the only ones to perform the ceremonies, and any rights or privileges were only church-related, then it wouldn't even be a question. Yet, marriage in America is all twisted up in our system of government. If you are married, you receive, on average, 400 legal and economic rights and privileges on the state level and 1,000 on the federal level. To deny these rights and privileges does not only affect the parents, but also the children in their homes. It hurts families.

I'm not okay with that. I want to strengthen families, even the ones who do not look like mine. So, I will vote and share my beliefs accordingly. I DO want people to change their mind on these topics, but I also know that others want ME to change my mind on these topics. It just comes down to the vote.

I also realize that some of you have a very burning question: Does Christine believe homosexuality is a sin?

For me, the more thought-provoking question is: Why have I never had a gay friend ask me that? Not once. Ever.

There are some who would say they don't ask because they don't want to know the truth. Oh my goodness, I wholeheartedly disagree. I cannot think of one single friend of mine, who is homosexual, who did NOT grow up in a Christian home ... not one (and I have a slew of "The Gay's" in my circle). They did VBS and Bible Drill and Catechism and church camp. I know that because I know THEM. We know each other. We talk a lot about God and church and Jesus. We also talk about kids and spouses and grocery lists. We have relationship together. We share life. I learn about their history and beliefs and they learn about mine. That is how we get our questions answered.

"The Gay's" ... every single one I know (and I'm sure there are plenty of which I'm unaware in my life), have experienced hurt and pain and confusion beyond anything I can comprehend. They are not considered equal to the rest of us. They lose their jobs. They, and their children, are harassed. They have been demonized. They are labeled as perverts and pedophiles. Statistics are skewed by those who claim the name of Christ to validate these lies. It is a big, horrible, giant mess ...

and I think we keep asking the wrong questions.

"I cannot separate my faith in Jesus of Nazareth from my everyday life, conduct and speech.

I cannot justify loving only those who love me, aiding only my friends, and praying only for fellow Christians.

I have no desire to carry the name of the Son of God to the level of my own base intentions."

-quote from Keith Seabourn's old Larry Poland poster

(photo by am y)

If you build it ...

2009-11-05T18:32:00.003-06:00

Build-a-Salad night.

My kids love it. I just keep it bright and fun.

baby spinach
black beans
corn
shredded carrots
sunflower seeds

Doesn't hurt that their parents push them out of the way to make a plate first.

I'm KIDDING.

*ahem* Maybe.

A few questions

2009-11-04T15:42:00.007-06:00

How is it this girl can be refused health care coverage ... because of the medications she takes ... to help her with her disorders? How is it they will ONLY cover her once she has been off those meds for six months?

Why are people questioning the need for health care for everyone?

Maybe it's because ... it's not your kid.

Now for a "Where's Waldo," of sorts. Can you find the kids being raised by the married homosexuals?

Come on ... they stand out, don't they?

No?

You mean, they're loved and cared for and have a rockin'-A family?

Really?

I find myself a wee bit frustrated today.

Magical Milk Pic-o-the-Week

2009-11-03T06:39:00.001-06:00

(photo by my favorite Kristen at Rage Against the Minivan as well as Mama Manifesto)

Yelling. is. not. okay.

2009-11-02T13:27:00.003-06:00

There is quite a trend in parenting these days. It's the thought that yelling is a perfectly acceptable form of correction and/or redirection ... perhaps even necessary.

I'm a reformed yeller. I have even shared my ridiculously simplified steps on how I stopped yelling at my kids. It's the "Step #1" which seems to throw a lot of people: you have to believe that yelling is not okay.

Sadly, that's just not the case.

A few nights ago Twitchy Mac came home from her musical rehearsal in tears. They are starting tech rehearsals and the stress level is about to climb. One of the adults started "laying down the law." Lots of empty threats were tossed around, including "If you make even the slightest whisper, we'll kick you out of the show."

99.9% of the kids blew this off. They KNEW these were idle threats. They're used to it. Happens all the time at school. My neurologically challenged child, however, takes things literally - especially with someone new in her life. By the end of the night, she believed she might get booted out of the show if she blinked too loudly, and that the director really was going to turn into a monster.

A quick email, and a short heart-to-heart between director and Twitchy Mac the following day helped ease her mind. Yet, when she came home she said, "It was nice of him to talk to me, but something he said really bothered me. He said he HAS to be mean or the kids won't listen."

And her face ... oh my cow, her face said it all. It was the look of an 11-year-old thinking, "How is it I'm smarter than a grown-up about something?"

Move forward one MORE day, and she came skipping in. The director had said anyone who was disruptive backstage would be asked to sit out in the audience for awhile. And it happened ... AND HE DID IT. She was so proud of him. Now, THAT got the attention of the kids. He actually DID something. She said it made a massive impact on everyone. I was also there last night and heard him speaking to the kids in a very firm, but controlled way, and the threats had been completely eliminated. And there was a stage full of 20+ grade schoolers who were attentive and happy.

My husband subbed at a grade school a few weeks ago and witnessed an assistant principal literally in a grade school kids' face yelling. No one batted an eye. Teachers ... students ... just kept moving through the hall. It was obvious that this was the norm.

We have had an incident with a teacher who yells. Other parents said things like, "Well, that's just her 'way.'" I vehemently disagreed. Guess that's just "my way."

So, the main reason adults yell at children? I believe it is because they truly think it is the only thing which works. I'm here to tell you that is the biggest bunch of hooey on the planet.

Not only is it not the only effective means of correction and redirection, but it is also a bad thing. It is bad. It brings harm.

When you are yelling, you are not in control of yourself.

When you are yelling, you are teaching your children to yell ... and some of us have been certified instructors!

When you yell at your children to control them, but do not allow them to yell to control one another, you are a hypocrite.

When you are yelling, you are doing it to make yourself feel better.

When you are yelling, you tend to say things you do not mean or you cannot enforce.

When you are yelling, your entire intention is to hurt and/or frighten.

And I have every right to say all of that because that is EXACTLY why I yelled. It is exactly why I still crave the yelling. I want to yell. I want to yell almost every day. My husband wants to yell. It would feel SO GOOD! Come on, you have read some of the stuff my kids like to do to me. Oh MY, would it feel so good.

Doesn't mean my husband and I have not hit our limit and made the mistake of yelling in the middle of a battle with a child. Yet, it rarely happens now. When it DOES happen, our children have permission to immediately correct us and ask us to change our voice (just like they are expected to do). Once we have calmed down, we apologize to the person we offended in front of everyone. We then (just like our kids are required to do) must do something to show kindness and love to that person.

Yeah ... if you're having a hard time stopping, try THAT once or twice. Painfully humbling and humiliating. Caused me and the hubster to always work REALLY HARD on this.

Yes, yelling may very well get you the immediate result you are looking for ... for awhile. Your children will learn to shut down just to endure the tirades.

When I have had a raging child, I remain the complete opposite. I almost speak in a whisper. One of us is going to drag the other to our side. Sure enough, when my kids finally realize I will not join them, they finally join me. When I instill consequences, I say it in a firm voice most times ... a soft voice other times ... depends on the situation.

If a child smarts off to my face, I take a deep breath and say something like, "Well, that's certainly one way to address your mother. Too bad you did not choose one which involves no correction. Oh well."

I'm not some magical person. I did not quit yelling overnight. I still want to yell almost every single day. Yet, it is easier now, because I have practiced NOT yelling. It feels weird now (even though the temptation is JUST as strong).

I quit because it goes against everything I am called to be, and everything my children can be. I encourage you to stop with the yelling. I promise you, it will be one of the hardest things you have ever done in your life. Guaranteed.

Do it anyway.

(photo by Betty Miller)

My Recycled House - in pictures

2009-10-30T15:36:00.006-05:00

This is just a tidbit of some of the things we have done. Just enough to get some of you off my back. :)

First, we are recycling a manufactured home. Nothing is standard in these things. They have their own "standard." For instance, the cabinets do not accommodate anything wider than a dinner plate. Thank you, IKEA, for a $14 pot rack. It's perfect.

Also, my pizza pans love their new spot on the wall. The fact that they couldn't fit into the "normal" kitchen storage areas was really crushing their self-esteem. Nothing a few screws and wall anchors can't fix.

Told you I have color! Most of the walls you are seeing were covered in flower patterns of hunter green and mauve. Did you notice my big, giant clock? When we left Shiloh Terrace Baptist Church to move to Oklahoma, this was their gift to us. So, to all my Shiloh peeps - LOVE my big, giant clock!

I have a refrigerator now ... right there ... just sitting in the kitchen. CRAZY! So, we are eating much, much better again, because ... well, like I said - it's just RIGHT THERE!

Made up the weekly menu all cutsie. It will never happen again, but was a good way to christen the new cooling unit. (note the picture of Fat Christine - she has been hiding while we were in the trailers - I did not miss her, or any of her chins)

I have been inundated with green. I'm pretty sure even the air in this house is green. So, I had all of these green flowers all. over. the. mirrors. in my bathroom and the kitchen. Here is what the bathroom looked like (note the delightful hunter green and mauve vertical stripes peeking through the first layer of primer - they think they have a chance, but they are going DOWN!).

And here is what I did to the overgrowth of flowers on the bathroom mirrors.

The kitchen looked the same as the bathroom mirrors, but I took the time to actually paint brown OVER the green. Turned out super cute. Yet, took me approximately two hours per panel. Needless to say, by the time I got to the bathroom ... yeah, I was thinking solid was the way to go (and the pattern is raised, so it looks a little cool behind the thick brown border).

This was the color of the front living area when we moved in.

And here it is now.

Also, I noticed everyone has been posting lots of pics of leaves as their colors turn. So beautiful. Yet, I knew it was Fall just a few days ago, and I didn't even have to look outside. You see, in my house, the changing of this season happens when "Dave Campbell's Football" shows up next to the toilet.

Have a great weekend.

New meaning for the phrase "Hook 'Em, Horns!"

2009-10-29T05:55:00.002-05:00

Last night was a good night ... mostly.

Michael took the kids in for activities in town. Two of them were sidelined with him because of behavior. The biggest point here is that they. were. not. with. me.

Mom needed a big, phat break.

So, I was watching the Colbert Report, working on a Griddler, drinking a green smoothie for dinner, and listening to the herd of cows outside my window as they were walking and grazing ever so slowly.

It was just what I needed.

A few minutes in, I heard some very loud mooing. That is not unusual. I mean, we're surrounded by livestock! Yet, this was ... umm ... very enthusiastic.

Me, in my impeccable timing, moved closer to the window where I could see not only the herd of black cows in one field, but the edge of the other land at the other side of our trailer. That's when I saw it.

In this other field are some Longhorns. They are beautiful. I LOVE having them right beside us. One of them, in particular, is huge.

Let me repeat that: HUGE!!

So, again, in my impeccable timing, I near the window to see the HUGE Longhorn just carrying on like crazy, trotting in a dead sprint down the fence line ... with the HUGEST erection I have ever seen in my life - just a flipping and a flopping. He made it to the fence (which is electric - but he's been known to lean on it and bend it over anyway). He stands there, with his junk almost to the ground, pacing back and forth and just wailing in desperation. Hoping upon hope that one of those cows will make their way over to him. How he didn't trip over his, er, fifth "leg," I'll never know.

What did I do? Called my husband (cause, ya' know, it made me think of him - and for his sake, go ahead and assume it's the extra "leg" part).

What did he do? Laughed and then told me to get my butt off the phone and blog about it.

(photo by Randa Clay)

Making a house a ... house

2009-10-28T06:58:00.000-05:00

No, I don't have pictures for you. I have been buried.

Rocky peeing on bedding to stink up the house. Don't worry. He had a great reason. He was mad that he was corrected for making a poor choice. That's the MO in the house right now. Not a problem. He had the opportunity to pee all over the bedding he wanted to, while camping out on the floor of the laundry room the following night. He chose not to, so he could work his way back into his bedroom he shares with his brother.

Mmmmmm. You know how I love the pee. Apparently ... SO DOES HE!

Received yet another gift from a friend in the mail. Such an encouragement to us. God did such a really great thing when he invented the concept of friends and community.

Mar has had many days of Restricted Mode. This has been our routine lately. Mar's heart and head are starting to associate negative feelings with a sense of entitlement, instead of what it normally is - a wonderful high! We have had some genuine tears. There has been regret and some good attempts at change. Still, it won't change quickly. Just what we're focusing on right now. Lots and lots of restrictions going on.

I have color on my walls. Lots and lots of COLOR! It makes me smile. Granted, I still have lots and lots and LOTS of walls which are still waiting their turn. Others are awaiting their second coat.

The refrigerator and stove arrived today. Tomorrow we will have the wiring done so we can actually plug in and utilize the stove. There are no words for how excited I am to have refrigeration in my actual kitchen. By tomorrow night I can steam vegetables without having to wait 35 minutes for the water to boil. Pretty cool.

We have had a lot of rain, and our "yard" is still a giant mud pit. So, it is entertaining to get to our doors. It will be quite a while before we can do a driveway or decking. So, for now, we are high class, baby. A few boards and old siding make for high end sidewalks.

I found something behind the drawers in the master bath. Will post a picture. It's not as shocking as what I found in the guest bath, but still ... kinda' "Huh?"

(photo by iamwahid)

Magical Milk Pic-o-the-Week

2009-10-27T06:42:00.001-05:00

This was the first delivery at the Heartline Women's Program in Haiti. You can join with them to personally make a big difference in the lives of more women. Click here to find out how.

(photo compliments of Beth McHoul)

Remember, you can always submit your own Magical Milk Pic! Just shoot it to me via email: christinemoers [at] hotmail [dot] com

BlogHer and Oroweat are giving away free stuff!

2009-10-26T13:07:00.003-05:00

I know how you guys LOVE your free stuff. Well, get on over to my review blog and find out what BlogHer and Oroweat have going on for you (besides saying, "Nya! Nya!" to high fructose corn syrup).

It's pretty cool. It starts with bread and ends with a $500 grocery card!