This Where the Nonsense Turns to Makesense

..A large family working to perfect our sweet skills: Loving others, making an impact, parenting on purpose, living simply, and embracing sarcasm.

Monday, November 07, 2016

We Have Moved!

Thank you for clicking! There's a chance I have no idea how to change my web address on various platforms, so you keep getting shuffled over here to the old blog.

It's a happy place. It really is, but after 10 years of living at the same blogspot, I thought it was time to mix it up.

Come see the latest posts and keep up on publishing information over at



Tuesday, September 27, 2016

It's the People in Church Who Ruin it Best

Ive recently talked to several people who want to like church, but struggle because Christians have been one minute too crazy. They described hurt and frustration from people and experiences. And boy do I get it. Church is weird. It's bound to be. It's made of people. 

We are a screwed up crew. We have more problems than a middle school math book. For real we carry our junk like a shield, propagate insane doctrine because we are too busy or neglectful to look up what's true, and sometimes we even have audacity to tell God and others what he is like. More times than not people are left with an image of God that is just plain wrong. 
The nitty gritty is that Jesus came to bring heart to the laws and get us each that much closer to redemption. 

"God does not, then, want to put people into little boxes and keep them safe and sound. It is, after all, possible to be so sound that you’re sound asleep."

What's your life like? Are you playing it safe and not risking a relationship with God? You want to believe, you see that peace in those who believe, but it's too much? You're stuck on all those crazies who stifled you or made you feel wrong when you attempted life in the church before? 

Are you too sound? Have you accepted Jesus and then tucked him away like a precious bit of money you don't want to lose? Is he so tucked away people don't even know he is there? 

Maybe it's time to be brave. 

"I am not in favor of unsoundness; but soundness means health, and health means growth, and growth means life and vigor and new directions."

I grew up in a pretty weird house. It was solid and shaky all at once. Its plumb line was straight and yet ten rows up my bricks shifted into dysfunctional. My parents suddenly became human and their choices shifted how I viewed family. How I viewed God. How I viewed me. 

Decades later I realize they were always human. Fallible. Real. Striving toward what they thought was right. The solid didn't come from them. My plumb line came from God. My foundation was built on true peace. Even their divorce couldn't  shake it. 

The crazies I met in my life couldn't hold me because I saw them for what they were: broken. So I knew not to let them define me. I knew not to let them draw a box and place me within it because boxes aren't from God. We serve a God of freedom. A God who yearns to lay hold of our chains and pulverize them. It's as if they never existed. All their powers suddenly gone. 

This isn't God's way. God's way is love. I'm sorry there are people who hurt you. I'm sorry when I hurt you. But don't throw it all out. Don't disregard the chance for peace because people have it wrong. They didn't make you nor should they define you. 

Choose peace, friend. Choose Jesus. 

Thursday, September 22, 2016

Who Are You Rooting For

Stop asking me if I've heard about Brad and Angelina. The radio shows are full of their story like they are talking about what's on sale at the grocery store. They've dehumanized them. Made their hurt commonplace and no count. I'm sure it's just as the devil wants it.

I'm not a celebrity person. I can't be. I spent many childhood days in a recording studio, or with my dad while he was making music or performing. I grew up around some decently popular names and more so around wanna be famous people. It brings on a weird jaded discernment that makes you see through their status and right to their humanness.

One time I went shopping with Mark McGrath. Remember him? Sugar Ray. 

We were at a high priced mall in Vegas attempting to spend money won in a radio show contest. My sis wins every radio contest ever, so she invited me to ease the celebrity tension. She shopped and we all palled around. 

Mark and I sang most of the songs from Grease. Ninja took a picture of a lady massaging her buns with a back massager at Sharper Image. Stuff like that. I still have the picture printed somewhere. I'm sure you can imagine it. 

At one point he leaned over to us and said" I thought this was going to be totally lame. This has been so fun! You guys are normal. Not like the usual girls." High praise. And I'm being serious. 

So I leaned over and said "you know. You can actually sing."

He replied with a very loud laugh and who am I to let a guy guffaw alone? Nope bit won't ever happen. After our guts hurt a little from the laughing he quipped, "Well I hope so!"  

I asked why he doesn't sing different music. "Why do you sing that bubblegum pop if you don't like it?" 

"That's what the record labels tell me I have to sing. I've pitched them other ideas. They say it won't sell." Turns out he was a little before his time and likes singer/songwriter. A man after my own musical heart. 

This might be the saddest thing I've ever heard. He agreed. I'm not saying any of this to get you to feel sorry for celebrities. They choose their lime light. I just think maybe we can remember they are people before they are famous and while they are famous and after they are done being famous. They hurt. They cry. They experience loss and eat emotionally like the rest of us. 

So maybe let's not make light of their wounds. Maybe we have a chance to protect their hearts, even if we have never met. 

We spent the rest of the afternoon people watching and trying to convince my sister to buy herself a pair of Jimmy Choos. I believe she bought a pair of earrings and a tank top. She has never been quick on her feet to make major decisions. And her heart is too big to drop $1,000 on a pair of boots. 

Tuesday, September 20, 2016

You're Invited

Ever been a doubter? I would like to invite you in. 

Feel angry in the face of another's blessing? Please. You have a place here. 

Find yourself crying out or mumbling "When, God? When?" This place is for you. 

Grumble, cuss, cower, stand, squirm, or punch. This place is for you. Let me welcome you in. Because parenting is real and gruesome. It hurts. It fills and it empties in the time span of water boiling. 

This job is not for cowards. You can't love the way you need and live a life divided. You have to commit. Present but absent parents hurt worse than if you would have left your baby standing in the dusty drive way as you peel out and never took a side glance in the rear view mirror.  

We get it into our minds that if we are to do anything for our kids we have to do everything. But I don't have everything in me. I don't have it to give. I just don't. 

I think ugly angry thoughts sometimes. I yell. I doubt. Boy do I doubt. But in the mornings when I take the time to seek peace first, I leave and I am changed. I stand a little taller. I speak a little sweeter. I feel just a little more comforted. 

We can't pour out an empty kettle. We have to fill up. So fill up and know you aren't in this alone. You fit. Right here you fit. 

You are loved and beautiful and chosen. You are appointed. You are anointed. And you've been sent. 

You've been sent for your spouse. Your children. You've been sent for me. I need you. We need each other. 

Don't take this job lightly. Seek your peace and then step out. Know that you are right where you are suppose to be. You are a mother. 

Saturday, September 17, 2016

Emotionally Hijacked

This morning I slept in, was served some amazing coffee and breakfast in bed, and listened to Jamie Ivey interview my favorite blog mamma and writer, Shannan Martin. Shannan is a woman who gets me. She's gotten me for the better part of five years. We've never met in person.

In the early part of writing my first book, I shot her an email on a whim and begged her to read a couple chapters and give me feedback. She did. It was spot on and so encouraging. 

Now, years later, SHES being published and I couldn't be more thrilled. We've only met online via her blog and Instagram, but there are some people you never have to meet face to face to know God had a hand in it (ahem Rachel Cortez). This morning I heard her voice for the first time and it had lots to say to me. 
She said she is in a low state of dysfunction because she has so much going through her brain with her book launch. She's been emotionally hijacked. 

Currently my book sits on a publisher's desk, and I'm just waiting on those magic words. I'm struggling to think of anything else. 

I realized I've been emotionally hijacked.

Know what that means? It means something amazing or horrible has happened (any extreme emotion) and now I can't focus on what matters. And suddenly I'm a mouse with a cookie and I can't focus on anything. Im flitting from one thing to the next not doing anything well. 

Except eating dessert. I'm doing that like a boss. But this is neither my anointing or my spiritual gift. Nor is it cooperative with my jeans. 

I'm allowing myself to let the overwhelm roll over into everything else. And I do mean everything. Have you ever felt like this? Is it just me?

I don't think so because I watch my students. One little boy, who is quickly becoming stuck deep in my heart, is being tossed between homes. People who want to love him but arent sure how. 

They know how they love isn't right. They vow to do it differently. But some other part, some other section of their lives has them emotionally hijacked. It's keeping them from loving him well.  So he's moved to a new home. And now he is emotionally hijacked when he comes to class. 
I want to teach him math, but he's fallen asleep. He isn't sleeping well at his new house. 
I want to teach him writing, but he's agitated. 
I ask him to come up to my table to play a math game with me. He thinks it's a trick. He knows I'm not in it for the math game, and he's correct. 
My job is to give him a haven from all of that other stuff. To give him a place to dump all of that emotionally bagging for about 6 hours so he can learn and be successful. I need to help him refocus his brain after it's been hijacked. 

I've done this countless times with students. It's my specialty really. I can't seem to apply the same success to myself! 
Will one of you come and unhijack me? That would be great. 

I know you can't. And I'm grateful. I know where to go. I know who holds this cure. 

"Come to me all you who are weary and burdened, 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." Matt 11

Thursday, September 15, 2016

My 11 Year-Old's Drug Knowledge.

I'm at my dinner table this morning praying over the hectic schedule that is my life. But I'm choosing not to stress about it. I've asked God to take what has no business being on my plate. I remember once asking for a bigger plate, and he promptly reminded me not to be insane. 

So this morning, with my average sized plate and my meal components partially plunging over the edges, I am choosing to reminisce over our past few family dinners. Aka my favorite part of any day. 

My favorite recently went something like this. 

Layla (14- 10th grade): our school newspaper had an article about the popular drugs kids are taking. 
(Let me interrupt and say it probably wasn't trying to get everyone on the same page, or give ideas, but I'm not totally sure how this information is helpful). 
Layla: it had a list of all these different drugs. 

Addison(11- 6th grade): and the kids were having a skittle party? 
Layla: what? What the heck…?

Addison: a skittles party. Where kids take their parents' medicine and empty it into a bowl and everyone shares their drugs. 

There have never been more crickets in my house than at this moment. 

Once the shock passed and Layla stopped choking on her laughter and bacon, we calmly asked Addison why she has this knowledge. 

What. The. Heck. Why does our baby squirrel know what a skittles party is? If it's public knowledge, wouldn't our high school child know what that is?? 

WEE know what it is as adults, especially as a teacher. But seriously? Well played school district SHARE program. You're really helping our elementary kids be successful. You couldn't think of anything more relevant than this?

Seriously. Family dinner is not for the weak at heart, but do it. You HAVE to do it. I don't normally boss you, friends, but this time it's too important. 

You need a place to teach everything and hear everything about the everyday life. Manners. Communication. Debriefing. Laughing. Jokes. And apparently skittle parties. Stuff like this doesn't come up in many other conversation situations. 

It doesn't have to be dinner. Choose any meal. At least three times a week. Make it happen. Your whole life will change. Your family dynamic will flip. Your heart will be filled. And if in the beginning everything seems to be getting in the way,or it seems to be going horribly, know you are on the right track. The enemy wouldn't try so hard to if it wasn't going to make a difference in the heart. 

"Care for the flock God has entrusted to you." 1 Peter 5:2

Wednesday, September 07, 2016

Please Stop Eyeballin My Waffles

I'm sitting at my table, my focus switching between two of my weirdest children having a waffle eating contest and Phil Wickham singing "It Is Well With My Soul." 
There's rules: 
you can't take that big of a bite.
You can't take another bite without me being ready to take another bite. 
Because your waffles are gluten free it's probably easier to chew so you have to give me a head start. 

Yes well, if anything the gluten free waffles are probably smaller, so I should get to take more bites without you knowing. 
I can't explain this contest. Or much else. 
But I'm listening to this song banked against reading 1 Peter, which I noticed contains a lot of cause and effect. A lot of rules for guiding a person's life. 

Don't be like that… and as a result you can show others the goodness of God. 

Be careful with your behavior and God will be glorified when others watch you. 

Submit to authority so the authority sees a solid heart led by love. They'll be better at bossing you. 

Don't be concerned with looks-it's easy to become obsessed. Instead focus on beauty that never ends; the Unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit. 

As a slightly loud woman with a gift for leadership it can be difficult to reconcile these truths. But just like that, Addison stood and declared she was the winner of the waffle contest. And so can I. 

I don't win at the rules all the time. Most of the time. I get annoyed with people who make me repeat directions they spoke over. 

I picture myself plucking those who hurt other people out of sheer neglect. 

When people make stuff up to save their skin, I want to put a stick in their bike spokes. 

And for real, I get crazy irritable when someone comes to me and we talk for weeks and pour over their hurts and pray through their struggles and they go right back to whatever is hurting them. I've got issues. 

I forget myself and my role and the fact that my beauty is determined by my love for others and my quiet, gentle side. To be sure it's a very small side right now. I'm working on it. 

My favorite line from any poem is written by Dylan Thomas. "Do not go gentle into that good night." 

I can't figure how this favorite set of words pairs with my quiet, gentle side anymore than I can make sense of Sam's rule that he gets two licks of syrup every time Addison chews ten times in one bite of waffle. I can only conclude he is an elf and that he sticks to the four main food groups. 

We are each a work in progress. Thank tou for being here with me. I don't know that I could handle these children without you. 

Sunday, August 28, 2016

When Daddies Pray

This weekend, we traveled with a truck bed full of a little girl's best memories: paintings, blankets, trinkets, and yes. Even a stuffed animal or two. We are taking our girl to college. 

She's our oldest, so it's as raw as it can possibly get. However, I don't know how this will ever feel like an old hat-it will always hurt with each of our babies, and next it's our Irish twins. Two at once.

We've sat through parent sessions and scoped out where to find sushi. We've trained her up, so she discovered where to get the best coffee. We hung lights and assembled a swivel chair. 

We even helped navigate the awkward roommate meet-cute when we were in the middle of unpacking, and the roomy's family descended into that tiny room. We did what most people do. We said our friendly introductions and then pretended they weren't there while we unpacked our kid's underwear. It's a learning curve for all of us. 

We are each processing. At different times and different ways. We take turns being quiet for longer than usual. I've noticed we've each hung back at different times, and I assume they are doing the same thing I did. Wiping tears that appear out of nowhere when struck with the thought that this is real. Our baby girl is grown. 

Last night there was a dedication service. She's attending a Christian college, so worship. Then teaching. Then prayer. 

Which translates to tear. Tear. And sobbing. They asked us to pray a blessing over our kids. We grouped as families, so it was just the three of us. 

So many thoughts ran through my mind. I was taken back to the time it was always just us three musketeers. The years between Izzy and Elijah when we tried so hard to have another baby. We lost two in that span of time. I remember praying with all my heart to be content to remain just the three of us. God saw us through. 

I also couldn't stop running through all the things I still have to teach her! Like a ticker tape at the bottom of the news screen. I'm not ready! There's still so much to say. 

So I prayed and thanked God for trusting us with this girl and was mostly a jumble and mess of thoughts and hopes and regrets and wishes. 

But then her daddy prayed and said all the things that little girl and I needed to hear. What we had been trying to say, but couldn't quite place the words. 

To the men here. You need to know something. God has called you to lead your family. You are called to lead in love and prayer and to seek God for every answer. We depend on you. 
From the beginning of man, God has placed you before us. There's a reason your shoulders are broad and your physical strength is great. There's a reason you don't cry quite as easily. You are called to lead us. 

The family dynamic has long been skewed. We could probably trace it all the way to that minute when Eve took that apple and Adam blamed her that he ate it. But this doesn't need to dictate us now. 

Daddies. Pray. Pray for your wives. Your daughters. Your sons. Pray for your legacy! Your words move mountains. Your example creates a ripple effect of boys who became godly men. Your prayers fill in the insecurities the enemy attempts to place in your daughters and they remind those girls of their worth. 

So much has transpired over the past couple days to bring me comfort and hope. To instill confidence that our girl is going to be amazing in this place. That she was in fact created for such a time as this. 

But when her daddy prayed, she knew it too. 

Friday, August 26, 2016

You Are Just A Mom

There's an age old phrase that needs to be lost from our conversation immediately. 

"I'm just a…"

There is no good end to this sentence. I was a stay at home mom for more than a decade. Almost two actually. So you can guess how many times I had the following conversation:

They say: what do you do? 
Me: oh, im just a mom. 

Why? Why would this ever be my response? Why would this be our response to any part of our lives if we know we are in God's will? 

Is it because we let the world decide what is worthy? Is it because we don't trust that God is really moving in the work we do? 

The bottom line is, God writes your story, my sweet friend. Every word is his if you let him in. Are you? Letting him in? 

Are you? In God's will?

 If you don't know, he says you need only to ask. He delights when you ask him for wisdom. Delights in your vulnerability in admitting you don't know. Delights that you take the time to seek his take on any and everything in your life. 

I know I am called to be a mother. And not just someone who has kids. I mean I am called to train them up in THE way they should go, to pass along the real Jesus and all he did for my kids, to guide and govern and love and equip. 

Moms, this isn't small. What about this is small?? What about this warrants a "just"? You know how we can be confident it isn't about just being a mom? Because satan hates everything about it. If it didn't matter he wouldn't care. He would actually make you feel just fine with it all. 

The Word so clearly tells us the enemy's plan. To steal. To kill. To destroy. That's quite a game he's running. And every time he gets us believing we are "just a mom," he wins a tiny bit of us. Of our kids. 

So stop giving it up, your power. Because you have ALL the power. Jesus said so. We are in his wings. We are in the shelter of the most high place. We get to call out to God.

And we are called to create disciples. Which is the number one work Jesus did on this earth! He led in love and gently corrected when his disciples were off course. He taught them the love and safety of the father. He taught them to pray. He taught them to trust and to question. He taught them how to go out into the world and be fishers of men. 

So the next time you find yourself in that same old conversation of "what do you do?" 

You remember you are in the fight of your life and you tell them, "I'm raising the next generation." 

Monday, August 22, 2016

Why I Like Mike #gazillion

When you've been in a relationship with the same person for 22 years, things can get stale. I mean, look. I've been with the same dude longer in my life than I've lived without him! 

I'm tempted to say that's just crazy, but it's not. It's love. It's choosing. It's knowing everything I know about him, and facing him square shouldered because he knows every single thing about me. And choosing him. Every time. 

I'll be real. Sometimes we are butt holes. Like full on jerk faces to each other. But you know what hooked me into this guy from day one? 

He tells me no. 

I was something like just about to turn 17. Big hair down to there. Peace necklace around my neck, a striped tee shirt and boys button fly jeans, both favorite finds from the thrift store by my house. 

We were sitting in photography class. HIS photography class. Not mine. I was supposed to be in physiology. But I ditched every day because I had to see about a boy. And I can't even remember what I wanted, but I wanted something or I wanted him to do something, and you know what that sir jerk face said to me?? 

He told me no. 

I would pay $100 to see my face. It's probably the first time anyone really dared to tell me no.

 I have always been this sassy and sure. When you're sassy and sure, people believe you. 

When you are sitting in a group and you're a born leader, people want to follow you. 

And when you're the youngest of four, the only girl, and your big brothers aren't scared to get a bit scrappy, people most often tell you yes for fear they'll end up on the wrong end of a knuckle sandwich. 

It was the worst and best minute of my life. No one likes to be told no, but that guy? I don't think I could have wanted him more. I knew I had met my match. And I knew I was going to marry him. 

He's the best, that Mike Brewer. Even if he still tells me no. 

This week, we are passing a milestone in our life. A major one. We are bringing our baby girl to college. 

We've blinked and suddenly. I hate suddenly. I want more of him and me and our favorite kid moments. 

Monday, we are taking a slow drive home to remember those days when it was just us. It will be photography class all over again when we forgot anyone else existed. 

I asked if we could stop by a lighthouse. And you know what that guy said!! 

He said yes. 

Thursday, August 18, 2016

Selfish Much? A GIVEAWAY

We spend so much time with our itty bitty kids teaching them to:

Be nice

Say Please

Share that toy

Did you say thank you?

All five of their beginning years we teach them how to be kind and giving with what ever they have. Of course we never want our kids to suddenly be rude, but by the time they leave for kindergarten, we seem to back off the intensity of this lesson.

Sure, we model by example, but the truth is, we aren't as intentional at teaching this as we could be. As we should be. Maybe because we think we don't have as much say now that little Johnny and little Linda are at school for 7 hours a day. I am here to beg to differ.

During Opening Ceremonies, International Olympic Committee president, Thomas Bach, addressed the world--August 5th from a simple podium amid a techno-charged party scene. His role was to welcome the world, in person or via television, to the 2016 Olympics hosted in Brazil.

Instead he delivered 11 of the most shocking words that should cause every mom everywhere to double-check her parenting.

Bach casually stated, "We are living in a world where selfishness is gaining ground."

Ouch. Stings doesn't it? It's like we want to laugh awkwardly because we know it is just. so. true. But we can do something about that.

First, you can keep reading this article over at Reno Mom's Blog where I give ideas to take back the reigns, even if we aren't with our kids during the school hours.

Next, how about I lead by example and give you free stuff? It's what Jesus would do. And while I don't have one of those bracelets to give you, I have something really so amazing.

I wouldn't joke around about this. It's not only 3:11 aye em as I am typing this, but it's back to school time. You deserve a little bit of love. And you deserve this dress.

Yes. You do.

So, I am giving it to you. Or one like it. The winner will get a gift certificate for $25 to shop at Simply Bliss Boutique. 

Here is the skinny! Follow me on Instagram and sign up to receive emails from this here blog. "That's it?!"

I can hear you.

Yes. Because somethings should just be easy.


Follow me on Instagram over at ParentingNonsense (link at bottom of page as well)


Click that little email icon down there. See me pointing? You will receive my blog updates and the skinny on where my book deals are headed!

If you do both, your name gets entered twice. If you tag a friend on Instagram, I enter your name again. If you tag two friends, I enter your name two more times. See the pattern? It's that easy.

Already follow me? Long time friend? Well, guess what. I am adding your name. You just get to sit there. But, the same applies to you- your name will continue to be added if you tag a friend.

And in the spirit of generosity and teaching our kids to learn to lead the way. Because we want to show them all the beauty they posses inside. Because we want to give them a sense of PRIDE... sorry. Carried away.

Anyway!! If you don't want to risk it OR you want to add this to your winning gift card, I am offering  you all an exclusive code. That's right!! It's only for my people. YOU are my people!

Head on over to Simply Bliss Boutique and use our nonsensical code (I promise it works) at check out to receive money off your purchase!

NONSENSE10 gives you $10 off your $50 purchase,

and NONSENSE5 gives you $5 off of your $30 purchase!

Pair that guy with that gift certificate and you are on the fat receiving end of all my love.

Winner Announced Monday August 22nd.

Affiliate Link

Happy back to school. Happy back to sanity. Happy Here's To Changing the World  One Kid At A Time!

May the odds be ever in your favor!

PS all amazing photos taken by Adam Dahir. See him for all your photo needs.

Sunday, August 07, 2016

Your Opinion Has No Business Here

I've said it before, and I'm sure I'll say it again. And we all do it, so don't elbow the guy next to you. But texting people your opinion about their parenting helps no one. Actually, it leaves your victim hurting and makes people wonder where your grace was misplaced. 

Social media? Not the place to offer advice when a mom is going through it. 

My daughter got a tattoo. A lot of people have tattoos. A lot of amazing, God fearing, changing the world people have tattoos they don't regret. Not even one little letter. I totally support my kid and her tattoo. But people who aren't for them have to speak up. People not in a real relationship with us. 

This isn't godly behavior. This is wimping out when you want to give your opinion. 

A friend has received more than her fair share of texts from her family. They want her to know that even though her son is grown and has prayed and heard from God, they think his choice is stupid. And maybe it is, but whose job is it to guide him? And how should it be done? Should he have to read that his extended family is disappointed in him? Is this really HIS issue? No. 

But there they are. Picking up the pieces because those words came through a tiny screen and without the love that should have accompanied them. 

The disciples were beside themselves and stepped in the way when a gaggle of children attempted to run up to Jesus. He let them know the business. He coined a phrase we could all stand to revisit. Faith of a child. 

He wants us to approach with innocence and belief. He wants us to mimic their audacity to jump when he says come. But we function in fear. 

Kids don't even know what they don't know. Maybe her tattoo was wrong. Maybe this kid will fall on his face. But you know what I see when I look at these two? 


They are two 18 year olds chasing after Jesus in a way that mostly scares me. They look and see potential. They believe just because God said to. They step because God stretches out his finger and points the way. I want to be like these two and so many other millennials. 

We have to start with encouraging words. Toward these kids and their parents. My kids need it. I NEED it. 

"Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing." 1 Thess. 5:11

Wednesday, August 03, 2016

Working Mom Survival: Win the Battle Over School Lunch

Back to school is around the corner and this working mamma of five is about to get her prep on.

Whether you are a working or SAHM you know mornings with littles is the devil's trick to make you punch a kitten. 

Young kids love to "help" and by help I mean they imagine they are doing a task when really they are taking 30 minutes convincing you that whiskey in your coffee is a good idea.

But they have to learn to be independent. Sure it's easy to take over and just get it done: tying their shoes, making their beds, making their lunches. But when does that end? 

Trust me. Now is the time! Instead of taking away their opportunity to figure it out, set them up with baby steps.

Does your four year old want to do chores? Put them in charge of silverware. 

Teaching them to make a bed? Put them in charge of changing the pillowcase or just the left side of the covers. You pulling up the right side models what to do and pills their side up a smidge. 

Your kindergartener is probably so stoked to own a lunchbox that she can't WAIT to make her lunch. This could take an eternity and spark disagreements about what's going in that lunch. And frankly, weekday mornings, I just ain't got time for that. 

Over the weekend, make the main course- make all five sandwhiches, all five homemade lunchables, a week's worth of tortilla wrap pinwheels. Whatever the main course is, get it done and out of the way. This saves you time because you have everything out already! 

You can label the sandwich bags with a different day of the week for some extra reading practice or let your kid let decide. 

In the pantry AND the fridge, create a space in a drawer or bin of suitable lunch sides: cheese, yogurt, crackers, pretzels, fruit, veggies, or whatever you deem good. Your little helper gets all the independence she wants by choosing one or two from each bin. 

You can even pre-size your grasp bunches or baggies of blueberries. It's a small amount of planning for a very big return on your sanity and time. 

This way you've given junior and Jenny the chance to choose, exercise their independence, and created boundaries in which they are able to help. 

Once you see they can handle it, put them in charge of making their main course! Trust me. A five year old can make their own PB&J. I've not made a kid school lunch in five years. 

It's great because it leaves me plenty of time to slip notes in everyone's lunch boxes ❤️. Even my high schoolers. 

You can do it, Mamma. I believe in you. 
~ Nonsense

 You're my favorite when you share. Its WJWD.

Sunday, July 31, 2016

That Double Checking Doubt

Don't worry- you aren't in this alone. But if you send in spies to double check the land God has promised you, you might be a doubter.

In Deuteronomy, Moses talked to his people about claiming the Promised Land, and I can't help picking up on the sarcasm. I picture him side glancing like Jim Halpert from The Office. He points out what should have taken 11 days to cross has taken them 40 years. That's a heck of a traffic jam.

"Look! He has placed the land in front of you. Go and occupy it as the Lord, the God of your ancestors, has promised you. Don't be afraid! Don't be discouraged!" Deut. 1:21

Now that's a rally speech!!

Do you feel it coming? The awkwardness. The elephant in the room. 

Because then Moses says crazy stuff that goes against his own dang encouragement!  And he blames the Israelites, which is cool because who doesn't love a good scapegoat? 

" But you all came to me and said, "First…" 

hold up. Stop right there. 

"Just as the Lord our God commanded us" and then you say "First let's ______" fill in our own agenda. 

In this case the people said "let's send out scouts to explore the land for us because what if God has a really crappy plan for us and we need to take matters into our own hands?!" 

Ok it doesn't say that, but I'm taking an awkward side glance and noticing that seems to be the #faketruth so many of us are living. 

God speaks to them. Tells them exactly what to do. Tells them GO! Take it. It's yours. And they say, "how about, instead of believing God and obeying him with crazy faith, we send out our people. Our plan. To juuuust take a quick double check just in case. It just makes sense, am I right??" (In this situation, their actions seemed to convey this message rather than their words). 

And Moses, with all the wisdom of a speck of sawdust says, "that seems like a good idea". 

So. Out they went. 12 scouts to check on God's gift and promise. To double check that we can trust if God is really a stand up guy. 

And thank goodness they did. Because do you know what they found? 

"The land the Lord our God has given us is indeed a good land." 

So. What's your fill in the blank agenda? 

Have you said "I hear you God. But first let's…"
Pray about it more?
Ask all my friends?
Seek a pastor? 
Write a pro and con list?

Is there a promise God is handing you that leaves you sending in the scouts to double check God's goodness? 

A call to be a writer?
A mom?
Financial freedom?
A job you love?
Acceptance to that one university?

Take it back. Skip those forty years and jump right to the end so you go from "Take this land which I promise you" to "the land the Lord our God has given us is indeed a good land."

~ Nonsense

 You're my favorite when you share. Its WJWD.