My girl!

My most and least favorite hashtag of this year is #izzygoestocollege. My girl is in her senior year, and while I feel as sense of accomplishment that she's grown into an incredibly cool kid, I can't help feeling that I worked really hard on this kid!! Now she's just going to take all that learnin and leave me? With four more who haven't arrived yet!!?

Gah. Rude vicious cycles. Well I plan to soak her up and pour into her every single second she's around.

Let's see. She's almost 18. And it's April. Carry the one, and five. That gives me about ten minutes where she will actually be around to tell her everything I have forgotten or failed to mention in her previous 18 years. And those ten minutes will probably separated into 45 second increments. 

One skill I want her to take with her is how to quit a job properly, followed with updating her resume/work history paperwork. 

She's been working at a local grocery store. Picture the quintessential first job. Menial labor. Random schedules. Sometimes you show up on pay day only to hear, "uh. Yah. Sorry, but the pay checks never showed up. Try again Monday." :/ 

This week, she got the blessed phone call saying she is Starbucks' newest and cutest barista. Well. They said something along those lines. The point is, Baby Girl got herself a big girl job where she's sure to meet her paycheck actually ON payday. 

As parents, it's important to give our kids the right ideas when it comes to quitting a job. We rehearsed. I gave her some ideas, and she fretted and bit her fingernails. 

"When should I give my notice??"

"Since you've got a yes for the job, and you have to give two weeks' notice, just do it on your next shift."

Then we talked strategy. 

"When you get in there, look for a good time- end of the shift or beginning. Start with a thank you for the work and for giving you this chance to get your feet wet with your first job. Tell them you you need a job you can take with you to college and fits your schedule better. Don't drag it out."

And just like that, she did it. She was so brave. I was so proud. 

The second part of this is for her benefit for years to come. Teach your kids to update they're resumes immediately with contact information, dates, names, phone numbers and addresses. How many times have you been applying for a job and you haven't a clue of the time frame for some job or another? Or the name of your supervisor- forget about it. 

Five years from now she will have four year's worth of college in her brain. She won't remember this. She won't even know she needs it until she goes to apply for another job! 

Do your kids a favor and have them collect this information while it's still milling around in their brain. 

She's not even far enough along to create a resume. Hers looks more like a simple Word document with the goods. I'll send it with her on her computer when she goes. 

Setting our kids up for success can feel like an overwhelming task. Handling these bite sized pieces makes us feel like we can actually move that mountain a smidgeon. 

~ Nonsense

A Classic Tale

::flasback segment::

Layla Grace-6 monthish
Eli-18months-ish
Isabelle-4 ish
Me-the day I turned grey

It's a day like any other. We have errands to run. One including the grocery store.

We stroll into Albertson's, oh so unsuspecting. I have Eli and Layla squeeezed into the front seat normally meant for one. They are rigged, two legs in one hole and a baby blanket wedged to one side. Isabelle is walking.
I have my calculator, my list, and we are all set with goodies from the cold drink aisle. I do the usual patrolling.
"Don't take that off the shelf."
"Don't lick the cart."
Stuff like that.
About an hour or more into it we are in the home stretch with only about three aisles to go. I am at the butcher counter getting steaks for dinner. (ah the good wife) ::pat pat pat::

Suddenly, out of my apron wearing day dream, I notice a cold something or other ::drip drip drop::

What is that? ::drip::

I bend to see milk splattering under my cart.::drop::

Quite a bit of it.

"what? how did that happen?" ::drip drop::

"Elijah, what did you do?" And this is where, if he could speak, he would tell me he ate through the milk carton. Right through the plastic.
Good grief, what a mess.

I wiggle closer to the lobster tank where they provide you with free paper towels--for the dive I suppose. As it turns out they are equally handy for almost-two-year-olds.

So I get my steaks and turn around just in time to notice Layla has gnawed herself a little snack. This one is made of a different variety- same animal. Her preference is raw hamburger.

Through my disgust and her wailings of injustice, I manage to dig as much as possible out of her mouth, left wondering how much she actually ate. ew.

I notice a convenient trash receptacle nearby and deposit the remnants of her snack into the can. Just as I do my hand gets snagged on the lid. It is one of those big metal cans with the teeter tottery lids.

Life is now in slow motion. teeter, totter, teeeeetter, toooooottterrr.

The kids are crying, the butcher woman is agasp, chest heaving, and my eyes are wide as the trash can lid flies up, up, up into the air.

And me? I am spider man as I look around me, taking it all in.
Only then does the display catch my eye.

"Hello. I hadn't noticed you before."

I make a mental registry of everything as it all comes crashing to the ground. No, not paper towels, that would be too easy. I see can openers, corkscrews, wire baskets, salt and pepper shakers, thermomoters, anything metal a grocery store would carry.

Yes, it is all on this very special, metal itself, display. And it too is on the floor. All it's guts splayed for passersby.

(You know what always amazes me? how everything gets so quiet when a terrible loud noise happens.)

It feels like hours pass. Days maybe.

Isabelle is the first to speak-- and I quote "NO WAY THAT JUST HAPPENED!"
I am still too shocked to say anything. Silence.

The butcher lady comes close, places her hands on my shoulders, and says, "Just go, honey. I will take care of everything."
So I do.
I unload my children and we leave the grocery store. Grocery cart full and dripping. The Good Wife steaks warming. My reputation circling the drain.

And in my best Alex Trebek voice:
"Why dont the Brewer kids go to the grocery store?"

#advicefromthemotheroffive Save yourselves

Talk To Your Girls; Make It A Habit

I've heard a lot of women say their girls just stopped talking to them once they got to a certain age. I am sorry to say I have been this girl to her mamma. None of this is actually God's plan for a mother and her child.

I started researching parenting the minute I had my first kid. Before really. I read every book and took every class I could possibly get ahold of because I was placed on bed rest with that first little turkey, and she kept insisting on making an early appearance. As it turns out, in true rude gus fashion, she ended up being 14 days late. 14. 14 days. Late. I'm not over it. 

Anyway, my research consisted mostly of conversations with moms who have been there, who have good adults for children, and who were happy to be honest and not sugar coat things. If you don't currently have these people around you, find them. Stop what you're doing and go find them. Pray for God to bring these moms around you. Keep your eyes open at the next baby shower, party, or any gathering where any women seem to congregate. These women are your life line. They exist to teach you what you need to know to survive some trying parenting years. They aren't all hard, but those moments seem to happen often and with a sea of emotions. 

One amazing mother of four incredible kids suggested I start early with my girls to talk about the awkward stuff, so that when we got to the REALLY personal chats, talking about it would be old hat. Then my friend, Jessica, suggested this journal. 

Because I love writing and written records and journals so much, I felt this was the best route for me and my girls. Over the years I have purchased three, one for each daughter. Izzy, now almost 18, was an early teen when we started. I think she was about 12. She was really struggling with so many things, and I kept hitting a brick wall when I would bring up a topic. Any topic. Even simple questions. Then we started this book. 

I started with something simple. I guessed the contents of her bag, and when I passed on the book I had her guess the contents of my purse. Our guesses were crazy and funny and weirdly spot on. She was hooked. She got to choose the next topic in the book. She chose to draw pictures of her dream outfit for her first day of work. The doodling is what drew her in, I think. The relationship is what keeps me checking under my pillow every night to see if she has hidden it there with a new message.

Before we got started, we went over rules. 

• Do we use a special pen? Nah. Just make it legible. 
• Are drawn responses acceptable? When you draw like Isabelle they are. 
• How often should we pass the book back? Just get to it when you can, but know that someone on the other end is excited to see what you have written or how you have responded. 
• Do we share this information with other people (aka siblings, daddy)? No, never, unless we agree on it or unless I think something harmful is happening with her. I gave her permission to tell her dad anything I wrote, because. Let's face it. That guy has known me since I was a kid. He is in all my stories. 
• How do we pass the book on? We chose to hide it under the other's pillow.

I cannot stress enough how major this interaction has been in the relationships I have with each of my three daughters. We own three of these books now. And, yes, that can turn into a bit of a chore when I have three of these journals hiding under my pillow in one night. But talk about a worthy investment. The lines of communication are so far open. 

My girls have incredibly different personalities and therefore will share things differently. Some are so blunt and open I feel like I am perpetually sporting that shocked big eyed emoji face. You know the one? Another daughter is quiet, reserved, and honestly not as trusting. It takes a little more to get through her guards, but now that we have moved into the territory of personal body changes and boyfriends, I am happy to say that she is open with me about the things that matter. 

With my oldest getting things set to leave for college, this is a book I all treasure while she is gone. I may find a way to pass it on to her a few times a year even after she leaves, just to check in with her and give her a little piece of home when she is missing home. I don't know really. But I know that we have made it through her teen years with nearly zero typical girl dramas. Part of that is due to the fact that she is simply rad and she lives her life for Jesus. I am positive some of that is thanks to what we set up so early on: an easy path for dialogue. 

If you don't want to use a pre made journal, no problem! Take your girl out on a date and make up the page themes together. Or make it a birthday present. Here are some things we write about- they are both made up by us and preprinted by the authors of the book.

Top Ten Favorite Songs

Draw Your Dream Outfit

What's Your Favorite Bible Verse or Bible Character

Ten Ways You are Like Rory & Lorelei Gilmore

The Last (fill in the blank ) you just did/had { food you ate, person you talked to, book you read, movie you watched, etc.}

They go on to share some embarrassing moments, dreams of the future, what I was like as a kid and what she thinks she will be like as a mother. It doesn't really matter what you talk about. Just talk. Make it easy. Don't discipline. Be true. Be kind. Be encouraging. Be on purpose. It could change everything.