Tag: parenting

Where’s the Beef? New 2012 School Menus are Lean on Meat

Syndicated on BlogHer.com

This post was syndicated by BlogHer on October 12, 2012.

where's the beef
where’s the beef

 

As the school year begins, public school menus across America have been adjusted to align with new federal standards from the Healthy Hunger-Free Kids Act.

President and Mrs. Obama advocated for the passage of this act. It’s federal policy. To be reimbursed by the National School Lunch Program, schools must adhere to these rules.

The new federal standards are designed to promote healthier eating and reduce childhood obesity with choices based on food components rather than nutrients.

Translation: lots of fruits and veggies, not so much meat.

My friend Katie blogged about the new federal standards and why they don’t work for her family. Other women began blogging about the standards, too. They started a Facebook page called Sensible School Lunches to dialogue.

I pay taxes that support public schools and these programs. So do you. We pay regardless of whether or not we have children enrolled. The well-being of the children in a community is important to the community as a whole.

That makes us all stakeholders in this.

The new federal standards recommend children in kindergarten through fifth grade receive more than six cups of fruits and vegetables for lunch per week, but only eight to 10 ounces of meat or meat alternative for lunch per week.

You read that right. Per week.

That’s roughly two ounces of meat per lunch.

Two ounces of meat per lunch didn’t sound like much to me, but I wasn’t really sure. My son and I headed to our local market to find out.

Two ounces (.125 pounds) of raw ground beef is about one meatball. Enough for a small hamburger or a portion of spaghetti sauce. Not bad.

2 ounce meatball on scale
2 ounce meatball on scale

Consider the chicken leg. It’s overweight at .31 pounds (4.96 ounces).

chicken leg on scale
chicken leg weighs more than 2 ounces

Two slices of bacon is fine, but a two-slice limit wouldn’t go well at my house.

2 ounces of bacon
2 ounces = 2 slices of bacon

At another store, we determined one hotdog would pass.

ballpark beef franks
ballpark beef franks, 1 hotdog = 2 ounces

So would a package of lunch meat like this.

oscar meyer chicken
2 ounces of oscar mayer chicken

My son enjoyed our investigative reporting. But as I snapped photos of Oscar Mayer, I wondered what the menu changes meant in real life.

I consulted the USDA’s sample menus.

Will children really eat 1/4 cup of jicama and 1/4 of pepper strips as suggested for the Monday menu, assuming they know what jicama is? How about Tuesday’s suggested 1/2 cup of broccoli and 1/2 cup of cauliflower?

Who are these kids? We try at our dinner table. We really do, but it’s a win if the child ingests more than one green bean.

please do not climb on cow
please do not climb on cow

By the time Friday rolls around, the weekly allowance of meat on the sample menu has been depleted. Cheese pizza is the suggested fare. Why not front-load the week with this deficit and participate in Meatless Mondays?

I jest, but there are American ranchers who are not amused.

The new federal standards also prohibit whole milk or flavored milk, a fact highlighted in Joslyn Gray’s post Seriously? 15 Things Schools Have Banned So Far in 2012. By 2014, the only grains allowed will be whole grains.

Let’s say a child eats his veggie-rich lunch of jicama and peppers with two ounces of turkey and one cup of fat-free milk, but is still not hunger-free. How will that child perform in class?

What if that child’s only meal for the entire day is school lunch?

Sadly, this is the case for many students. The 2010 Hunger in Our Schools study concluded hunger remains a problem in the classroom with a large proportion of students relying on school meals. It’s the main reason some kids come to school.

cow statue at airport in vermont
cow statue at airport in vermont

The Healthy Hunger-Free Kids Act updates public school menus for the first time in 15 years. It’s a commendable start.

The emphasis on fruits, veggies, whole grains, and low-fat milk is terrific. Still there are questions that need to be addressed for these standards to succeed in real life.

Giving local schools more say in what works best in their communities with their students makes the most sense.

Local schools are also better equipped than the federal government to network with area farmers and ranchers to supply foods, another goal of the Healthy Hunger-Free Kids Act.

There’s work to be done. Please contact your elected officials. Visit Sensible School Lunches to learn more and to dialogue. Bloggers, consider writing your story about this topic and sharing it there.

He always does what He says—
He defends the wronged,
He feeds the hungry. Psalm 146:7 The Message

And now the moment you’ve all been waiting for. A link to the Wendy’s commercial that inspired this post’s title: Where’s the Beef?

What’s your take on the new menus?

Posted on by Aimee 10

Field Trip to Visit an Inspiring Friend

It’s that time again for a field trip on the blog. Our itinerary takes us to Pinke Post for a special story from my friend Katie.

Pinke Post
Pinke Post

I roomed with Katie, Leah Beyer, and Nancy Grossi at the BlogHer conference earlier this month. Katie, a discus thrower in college, vowed to be my tall, blonde bodyguard should the need arise in New York. Thankfully, I didn’t have to take her up on that offer, and we went shopping instead.

Katie has blogged at Pinke Post for five years. She is the mother to three beautiful children and the wife to her prince charming. In her professional life, she works in agriculture for state government.

Today she breaks her silence about her time as a food stamps mom.

Katie Pinke in Tahari
Katie Pinke in Tahari

It’s an inspiring story from a beautiful woman with great determination, incredible work ethic, and the blessings of family and faith—the stuff of real hope and change.

Plus she can rock a Tahari dress like nobody’s business. Please give it up for Katie Pinke and her true story Food Stamps Mom Breaks Her Silence. 

She sets about her work vigorously;
her arms are strong for her tasks. Proverbs 31:17 NIV

Don’t Give Up, snappy new tune from Kevin Rudolf.

Click, read, and meet my friend Katie Pinke.

 

Posted on by Aimee 4

Water Park

Water park, great equalizer of humanity.

water park double tubes
tubes for two

Waves of humans stripped down to the skivvies we call bathing suits. Nothing and nowhere to hide.

The throbbing sun bakes this oasis, this jewel of blue on the drought-worn prairie. We flock to the relief of the pool. We gather at the watering hole: elephant, antelope, crocodile, hyena.

My child, energized by the water and the people, skips between activities. I follow as his guardian and his insurance that he won’t swim alone today.

We begin with the obstacle course. Training for American Ninja.

water park lily pads
lily pads

Children slip across floating lily pads. They scurry and swing along rope webs. They drop and dog paddle ferociously to the finish line.

I observe, taking note of my offspring’s competitive streak. Between his father and me, he didn’t stand a chance of missing that trait, poor thing.

Herds of middle schoolers run together in co-ed packs. High school girls saunter like giraffes in triads, while high school boys buzz in larger, amorphous groups, joking and oblivious to their surroundings.

Tattoos litter bodies. They punctuate skin and recoil like secret sin exposed in the sunlight.

water park my shadow
toes and shadow

A dragon crawls around a woman’s torso. A cross marks a man’s bicep. A clover nips a lady’s ankle. And on another man’s chest, the infant footprint of his son who now swims beside him, a baby no more.

The hip, young women have accentuated their navels with piercings. Glittery rhinestone stars. All I can think of is how this will look should these girls grow up to bear children. Their tummies bulging with pregnancy, I imagine the star navel rings popping like buttons on shirts. Timers on turkeys.

Soon my child is ready to move on. Bravely I stand, the only person older than 16 in line for the slide.

water park orange slide
orange anaconda

There are two water slides. The orange closed tunnel and the blue open air. Like closed and open MRI machines.

My child screams with delight as the giant, orange anaconda swallows him whole. Down into its narrow, black throat he disappears. I’m next in line.

I’m usually not claustrophobic, but the tunnel seems too long and too dark. I whiz around curves and pray for light. I wonder if this is what it feels like to die.

A burst of sun and water and the snake spits me out. Has my child survived?

He’s already back in line to slide again.

water park torrent
thrill of the day

We traverse the lazy river. We revisit the obstacle course, and I think it must be his favorite thing. Then we see it.

Children run to the foot of the great bucket. The alarm bell rings faster and faster as the bucket tips. A torrent of water splashes down on the crowd of shrieking kids. They disappear in the flood. They scatter as the water dissipates and drains away.

This. This is the thrill of the day.

I stand beside my child the next round. We watch the white water crash toward us. Drench us. Wash and cool us.

We are alive. And for a split second this summer, I am a child again.

How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are! The reason the world does not know us is that it did not know Him. 1 John 3:1 NIV 1984

Joy by Newsboys.

What’s your favorite summer memory?

Posted on by Aimee

The Lie of Having It All

It’s morning. The entire day is ahead of me. Already I know there won’t be enough time to accomplish all I want. I bet many of you can relate.

Ladies and gentlemen, we can’t have it all.

power mom sign
power mom, as seen at Brookstone

This idea that we can excel at work, be happily married, parent effectively, exercise strenuously, volunteer wholeheartedly, entertain, invest, maintain an orderly house, grow our own food, cook gourmet meals, train as concert pianists, and blog on the side is unrealistic, wouldn’t you agree?

Work-life balance is a human condition, not a women’s issue. 

Men struggle with this, too. I don’t mean to leave them out of this discussion, nor do I mean to ignore single people or those who aren’t parents. However, the debate over work-life balance for moms gathered new steam with Anne-Marie Slaughter’s recent article in the Atlantic Magazine.

Slaughter’s post, combined with the July 16th announcement naming the pregnant Marissa Mayer as CEO of Yahoo!, sparked a flurry of commentaries in The Huffington Post, Harvard Business Review, Christianity Today, The Christian Science Monitor, Forbes, and the like.

Our time, strength, and resources are limited. We have to pick and choose. There are opportunity costs.

Years ago when Rosie O’Donnell was adopting another child to add to her brood, I was struck by the honesty of what she told her audience one day on her show. She said although we may see her as having it all—as a celebrity, businesswoman, author, activist, philanthropist, fundraiser, and parent—what we see belies what happens behind the scenes.

Rosie said she has help. Lots of help. And money. Lots of money. Her situation is different from that of her viewers.

First Lady Michelle Obama Official Portrait
First Lady Michelle Obama official portrait

Today the same could be said of Marissa, Angelina, Gisele, Giada, First Lady Michelle Obama, and other high-profile moms. That’s not to criticize or suggest they don’t work hard. It’s simply to state a fact; their situations are vastly different than most women’s.

What are you called to do? Pick and choose that. Pursue it with passion. Kick the rest to the curb without guilt. Resist judging when others do the same in their lives.

Comparing ourselves to the unrealistic and untrue standard of having it all is unfair and self-destructive. It kills our motivation and contentment.

In the end, all any of us really have is what God gives us today. Will we trust it’s enough?

Trust in Him at all times, you people;
pour out your hearts to Him,
for God is our refuge. Psalm 62:8 NIV

Today by Newworldson. Sweet song. So God, what You wanna do today?

What do you think about work-life balance?
Can we have it all?

Posted on by Aimee 11

The MOB Confronts Cattiness Against Boys

meangirlstshirt
my skills make boys run

Walking through Target when a t-shirt catches my eye in the girls’ department.

Excuse me?

I’m a proud member of the MOB (Mothers Of Boys). I don’t see a shirt in the boys’ department reading, “My Skills Make Girls Run.” That would never be tolerated. As a grown-up girl, I’d be unhappy if it were.

Then there’s the sign I saw in Kirkland’s.

Where’s the one reading “Boys Rule: Your IQ Test Has Come Back Negative?” Kirkland’s would be boycotted post-haste if that sign ever made it to the shelves.

chicks rule sorry
sorry. your IQ test has come back negative

The battles for women’s suffrage, educational equality, and Title IX were difficult. Necessary. Admirable.

Today women earn only 77 cents per dollar earned by men working the same jobs. Women hold only 17 percent of the seats in Congress. Women are victimized by domestic violence . Poverty rates are highest for families lead by single women. There’s still work to be done.

Is this how we want to do it? By using little girls to demean little boys?

The notion that it’s acceptable to degrade boys isn’t new. I love the old Schoolhouse Rock songs and often feature them in my posts. My seven-year-old son and I can sing the lyrics to nearly all of them.

But there’s a line in Unpack Your Adjectives that makes me want to crawl under the table. My heart breaks as my son laughs along, unaware of the politically-loaded, mean-girl, angry-woman sentiment behind it:

“Girls who are tall can get taller,
Boys who are small can get smaller,
Till one is the tallest
And the other’s the smallest of all.”

This is 2012, not 1950, 1969, 1975 when Unpack Your Adjectives first aired, or Thelma and Louise’s 1991. The vitriol is overkill.

Women pursue education. They earn more advanced college degrees and bachelor’s degrees than men.

Women join the workforce. More than 70 percent of all mothers with children younger than age 18 work outside the home or are looking for work outside the home.

Women hold power in the voting booth. In the 2008 presidential election, about 66 percent of women voted compared to 62 percent of men; that’s 70.4 million women compared to 60.7 million men.

Girls play sports. A 2008 report from the Women’s Sports Foundation found 69 percent of girls participate in organized and team sports. That’s nearly equal with the 75 percent of boys who participate.

Sisters, hear me when I say I’m indebted to you. Now can we please celebrate the partial victories, keep on keeping on, and leave our kids out of the combat?

chicks rule. you're right. you're not worthy
you’re right. you’re not worthy

Think about what we’re communicating to our daughters. What we’re allowing to happen to our sons. Will this attitude ameliorate animosity or deepen it? Solve inequality or perpetuate it?

Teach respect. Work for equality. Rise above the hurt and the hate. Burn the cattiness with all the gusto once used to burn the bras.

My son isn’t responsible for your pain. No amount of discrimination justifies using our children as pawns in an ongoing, grown-up fight.

And He took the children in His arms, placed His hands on them and blessed them. Mark 10:16 NIV

Sweet Child O’ Mine by Sheryl Crow.

This is just my opinion. What do you think?

Posted on by Aimee 16

There’s Always One

Our home is becoming a wildlife sanctuary.

My husband and son rescued this little bunny from our window well and set him free to rejoin his family. I’d post video of the rabbit rodeo, but I’d like to stay married.

rabbit baby
baby bunny

Two toads have taken up permanent residence in the window well turned terrarium. Our eyes sift through the sand to detect their camouflaged bodies.

The robins in our holly tree who survived the tornado have long since gone. Another resourceful robin laid eggs in a coil of electrical wire tucked under our deck. She’s fearlessly raising her brood to fledging status this week.

Some starlings constructed a muddy nest under the deck, too.

This past Tuesday morning, I let the dog out to roam in the backyard. As we ate breakfast inside, we heard her urgent barking.

“She wants to come in already?”

“I’ll do it! I’ll do it!” said my son.

“Okay, just make sure you lock up after you let her in.”

He scurried downstairs to open the door.

“No, Ella! No!”

My skinny seven-year-old lugged our overweight dog into the house.

“Ella was trying to bite the baby bird!” he said.

A starling chick had fallen from the nest. His four brothers and sisters peeked out of their dirt clod cone of a home.

“Don’t touch it!” I said. The tiny bird lie on his back struggling to breathe. Gingerly, I flipped him over. He waddled a few steps.

“Let’s call your dad and figure out what to do,” I said.

My husband was in a meeting, unavailable to take our call. So I did what any modern woman on the prairie does. I Googled it.

perched on stacked garden benches
perched

The Miami Science Museum website gave us instructions:

“Don’t worry about ‘smelling like a human.’ Actually, most birds have a very poor sense of smell and won’t be able to tell that you helped their baby… If you can find the nest, then put the baby bird into it.”

We stacked benches and climbed up.

“Spot me, will ya?”

I carefully lifted the chick up to the nest. He disappeared down into the funnel. He was a goner for sure.

By evening, he’d fallen out again. We stacked the benches, climbed up, placed him with his siblings. Only this time he didn’t disappear.

This time he turned around and perched on the rim of the dirt cone.

“Go back in,” I said and nudged him. He refused to move, stretching his neck out between my fingers.

baby starling at nest edge
on the edge

The next morning, he’d hopped out again. And again in the afternoon.

This bird is not old enough to leave the nest. He’s just beginning to open his eyes. There are downy tufts on his head. He’d be defenseless on the ground if a snake or cat came prowling. My husband thinks he’s trying to find relief from the triple digit heat.

Soon he’ll fly like the adult starlings who circle and complain as we return their offspring to the nest. We’ll save him from danger for as long as we can. But he’s tasted the cool, sweetness of freedom.

Wednesday evening we sat by the window under the deck, quietly watching avian parents fly back and forth. The robins landed and stayed to feed their chicks. But the starlings swooped in and hovered beside the mud nest, their apricot chests suspended by strong, flapping wings.

baby starling
starling child

If they landed, it was like angels touching earth, too quick for us to see.

Swan-diving starling child, do you show your siblings how to fall into this air?

There’s always one who leads.

But in fact Christ has been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep. For as by a man came death, by a man has come also the resurrection of the dead. 1 Corinthians 15:20-21 ESV

I would give my life to find it. I would give it all. Catch me if I fall. 

Who do you lead? Who do you follow?

Posted on by Aimee 1

The Very Busy Vacation

In the realm of respite, there are restful vacations and there are very busy vacations. My family gravitates toward the busy.

Montpelier Vermont state Capitol Building
Mr. Whetstine goes to Montpelier

None of us had ever been to Vermont until last week. We were going to make the most of it.

We cruised Lake Champlain, shopped April Cornell’s comeback store in Burlington, visited the state capitol in Montpelier, toured the Ben & Jerry’s factory in Waterbury, and witnessed the birth of a goat at Shelburne Farms (timing is everything, folks). That was the first half of the week.

The second half bowed to my husband’s business commitments. He worked while I entertained our energetic seven-year-old in an unfamiliar city.

ben & jerry's factory in Waterbury, VT
this way to Ben & Jerry’s

Our itinerary included swimming, hiking, tree climbing, rock skipping, iPhone games, MythBusters marathons, and a shoreline run to the U.S. Coast Guard station for a band-aid.

We arrived home exhausted, hauling 135 pounds of laundry, a bevy of memories, and one air travel induced backache, namely mine.

A very busy vacation requires a stay in recovery.

“Mom,” said my son, “next time can we just go to Kitty Hawk?” He remembers restful vacations are possible even for us.

We vacation busy because we don’t want to miss a thing.
We vacation restful because we all need time out to recharge.

Lake Champlain, VT
Lake Champlain

Most vacations fall between the two extremes. There are degrees. There is balance. There is a remote, beachfront condo braving the wild ocean somewhere in my future.

Find rest, O my soul, in God alone;
my hope comes from Him. Psalm 62:5 NIV1984

Vacation by The Go-Go’s.

Do you prefer busy or restful vacations? Why?

Posted on by Aimee 11

You’re Not Special or Are You?

I have a tiny bone to pick with Wellesley High School English teacher David McCullough’s assessment, “You’re not special.”

You’ve probably heard about McCullough’s “You’re Not Special” commencement speech. Delivered on June 1, the speech quickly went viral.

king of the world?
king of the world?

It’s not hard to understand why this speech appeals to folks. Much of what we teach our children and how we treat them hinges on overprotection. We work very hard to prevent bad things from happening to them. We do all we can to ensure their success. We treat them as if they are, well, special.

They may get the idea they are entitled to a life of ease without frustration. But the real world doesn’t work that way.

If you’ve ever struggled to earn a paycheck, overcome a hardship, or climb out of a dysfunction, you know life can be tough. The world is no respecter of persons when it comes to fairness. The sun rises and the rain falls on the righteous and the unrighteous, the special and the ordinary.

As an occasional helicopter parent, I agree with the gist of McCullough’s speech. But it troubles me for another reason.

I cringe because the speech’s implication is as dangerous as what it argues against.

“You see, if everyone is special, then no one is,” said McCullough. In order to be special, we must do something special. Our worth depends on our performance.

And if no one is special, then is every one replaceable? Disposable even? If only those who perform and do something special—if only those have worth—who’s to say what’s to become of the rest of us?

Our children, including the young adults graduating from Wellesley High School this year, are special to their families. Or at least they should be. They’re special to their country as our best natural resource. Or at least they should be.

Most assuredly, they’re special to God. So are you and I.

With God, your worth doesn’t depend on what you do or don’t do. He created you, so you have intrinsic value. He loves you, so you have worth. He died and rose to save your life, so your life is beyond price.

all hands on deck
all hands on deck

Maybe it’s semantics. I wish McCullough would have said, “You’re not entitled.” Of course that doesn’t sound nearly as provocative as, “You’re not special.”

And I suppose he’s right. Performance is our measure in this world’s economy.

Thank God it’s not our measure in His eyes.

God saved you by His grace when you believed. And you can’t take credit for this; it is a gift from God. Salvation is not a reward for the good things we have done, so none of us can boast about it. Ephesians 2:8-9 NLT

Stars by Switchfoot, the acoustic version because that’s how we roll.

What do you think? Are we special or not?

Posted on by Aimee 16

A Most Exciting Thing About the Election

This is not a political blog. If you want to know how to vote, there are plenty of other websites that will be more than happy to tell you.

red state vote 2012

Am I thrilled with either of the presidential candidates? Not really. Does that change my responsibility? Not really.

The larger question is, am I an American citizen who cares about my country? The answer is yes and the mission is clear: VOTE.

As ugly as campaigns get, the vote is sacred. Your ballot is secret, between you and God.

You could go from here to November without revealing your opinion about the issues or publicly throwing your support behind a candidate. Or you could shout your convictions from the rooftops. Doesn’t matter. When you cast your ballot on November 6, 2012, your vote will speak as loudly as Bill Maher’s, Rush Limbaugh’s, Rachel Maddow’s, or Ann Coulter’s.

blue state vote 2012

To me, that’s something to be excited about.

Friends, Romans, countrymen, use these months before election day to prepare. Get registered. Get informed. Get ready.

With courage for the process and respect for the privilege—without getting wrapped up in the histrionics—prayerfully, politely, powerfully, prepare to VOTE.

Nothing in all creation is hidden from God’s sight. Everything is uncovered and laid bare before the eyes of Him to whom we must give account. Hebrews 4:13 NIV

I can’t choose just one favorite Schoolhouse Rock song, but Shot Heard ‘Round the World comes close. “The continental rabble took the day!”

Please feel free to use the VOTE 2012 images from this post in your social media.

What does voting mean to you? Are you excited about it? Why or why not? If you are raising children, how will you talk with them about the election and voting?

Posted on by Aimee 11

The Fear of Summer: Romancing the Routine

mom, I spy your routine!

Summer evokes a mild case of panic in me.

Oh, sure, there’s the good stuff. Long, sunny days. Outdoor swimming pools. Vacation plans. Quality time with the kiddo. But if I learned anything in all my years of schooling, it’s that summer is synonymous with the loss of routine.

I was one of those strange children who didn’t like weekends. More at home with the rhythm and clear expectations of the classroom, I skidded toward summer break on a downward spiral. And I know I’m not alone.

We Type As like our routines. Changes in THE PLAN are exciting, but they can be frightening at the same time.

Maybe you’re not Type A. But maybe you’re a parent. Maybe—I’m guessing here, you and your children thrive on some semblance of structure.

Come on, moms and dads. Back me up on this. Doesn’t the thought of filling all those unstructured hours of your child’s summer vacation strike a wee bit o’ fear in even the bravest of super parent hearts?

Ridiculous, I know. Yet the fear of summer lingers. It nabbed me yesterday morning in yoga class. I like my yoga instructors Grace and Boomer. I’m comfortable in this routine, this respite from the stress of relocation, motherhood, and what to cook for dinner. I don’t want to give it up.

But how will I continue to do yoga when my son’s out of school for the summer? What will I do with him during class? Turn him loose to run wild through the YMCA? Sit him in front of the Wii for an hour? What if he wanders out to the pool alone? What if (insert catastrophe)?

runs with shovel

And how will I blog this summer? When will there be time? Who will read it? What about the other projects I want to pursue? What if I miss all the opportunities? What if I wake up in September and they’re ALL GONE? What if the world ends tomorrow? What if (insert catastrophe)?

The only way to roll with the changes is one step at a time. One season at a time. That’s why they usually don’t happen all at once. Thank You, Lord.

I’ll take a cue from yoga. Follow my breath. Put my shoulders back and down. Let myself feel grounded. Take a moment to be thankful for another day.

Then I’ll put on my sunscreen and forward march into summer.

The day is Yours, and Yours also the night;
You established the sun and moon.
It was You who set all the boundaries of the earth;
You made both summer and winter. Psalm 74:16-17 NIV

Dear Routine,
Though we’ve got to say good-bye for the summer, darling, I promise you this: I’ll send you all my love every day in a letter Sealed with a Kiss.

How do you roll with the changes in your routine?

Posted on by Aimee 17

Una Benedizione

“We Italians have a saying,” said my cousin last month at Aunt Leah’s funeral. “An Italian mother is una benedizione.”

mother’s day may 13

Una benedizione. A blessing. A benediction.

What does that mean? The dictionary gives me several ideas.

A benediction is an utterance of good wishes.

Her words, her wishes for her children, are good. Even those awash in worry or irritation, even those carry compassion. She means well.

“Have a good day at school.”

“You can do it.”

“Get down from there!”

“Wear your coat to stay warm.”

“Wear your sunscreen so you don’t burn.”

“Wear your seatbelt in case there’s an accident.”

“Mamma loves you. Always.”

A benediction is an invocation of divine blessing. 

Silent prayers house the longings of her heart. They stretch over her child as he sleeps. They strain upward and plead with God.

“Lord, bless this child.”

“Lord, save this child.”

“Lord, protect him.”

“Lord, use his abilities as You see fit. As You made him.”

“Lord, help me be a good mom to him.”

A benediction is a service to bless the congregation; a ceremony to set things aside for sacred use, as a church, vestments, or bells.

She prepares imperfect sanctuaries for a noisy congregation and presides over a ceremony of the unseen. The sacred service of things taken for granted.

clematis

She wraps children in blankets, birthday presents in paper, boo-boos in bandaids. She feathers the nest with goodnight kisses and turns the pages of bedtime stories. She walks the night feeding a baby, comforting a sick child, or waiting for a teenager to make curfew.

She washes and folds mounds of laundry and lays out vestments for her charges. She cleans up rooms, dishes, and misunderstandings. She completes a task only to see five more erupt into chaos.

She answers endless questions. She faces the fire of a two-year-old and the swagger of a sixteen-year-old. She weeps with those shunned, disappointed, and bereft.

Her orchestra is populated by pots and pans. She directs the sweet, ringing bells of small feet and voices. She conducts personalities like instruments du jour: recorders, pianos, saxophones, violins, trumpets, booming drums. She oversees a heady score—the allegro and adagio of raising another human being.

A benediction is the state of being blessed. A mercy or benefit.

She bestows a state of blessing on her children that remains after she is gone. Though the official benediction may come at the end, it’s been conferred throughout the service.

Mi manchi, Mamma. Sie stata una benedizione per me.

I miss you, Mom. You were a blessing to me.

The Aaronic Benediction

The Lord bless you
and keep you;
the Lord make His face shine on you
and be gracious to you;
the Lord turn His face toward you
and give you peace. Numbers 6:24-26 NIV

Dreaming with a Broken Heart by John Mayer who sings and pulls heartstrings.

How has your mom been una benedizione to you?

Posted on by Aimee 17

Year of the Tiger: A Love Story

Year of the Tiger loved Year of the Dog the first time he saw her.

lanterns

He pursued her until she loved him back. They were inseparable. They married and ran away from home.

Time passed slowly. Finally they were blessed with one child, Year of the Monkey, a Solitaire.

Monkey made the days and nights seem longer, while the months escaped into years.

Tiger and Dog ran away from home again, this time taking Monkey with them.

They are best, these three, when they pull together. Best when inseparable.

The work of living takes Tiger far away sometimes. It cannot be avoided.

Year of the Dog and Year of the Monkey become a pair. They eat Chinese food or pizza and wait for Year of the Tiger to fly back to them.

Today there will be no waiting. Today they are home, all three. Together they will eat cake. They will feast on the decades and dream of the future.

Happy Birthday, Year of the Tiger. The Lord has been good to us.

Satisfy us in the morning with Your unfailing love,
that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days.
Make us glad for as many days as You have afflicted us,
for as many years as we have seen trouble.
May your deeds be shown to Your servants,
your splendor to their children.
May the favor of the Lord our God rest on us;
establish the work of our hands for us—
yes, establish the work of our hands. Psalm 90:14-17 NIV

A gift: Perfect Moment by Darden Smith. Love don’t travel in straight lines.

Birthdays are a natural time to take stock of our lives. What’s the state of things in your world today? What or who can you celebrate?

Posted on by Aimee 16