Tag Archives: Mother afraid of messing up her daughter

Minny Don’t Burn Chicken

26 Feb

Lot’s of stuff on my mind right now. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to blog about the birthday parties I went to this weekend or the movie we just watched. I’m gonna combine both ideas and try to keep it under 671 words…here goes.

Thought one: Friday we went to Sophia’s 4th bday party. For those of you who don’t know Sophia she belongs to Ray and Chantel Ortiz.  If those names sound familiar to you it’s because they are the lead pastors at Revive Church.  We first met Sophia before she was walking and D has spent the last 3 summers swimming with her and her brother.  When we decided to move to Austin I was so excited because they would still get to swim together.  True story.  Chantel and I have had that conversation; we’re glad they’re swim friends; they even use matching pink towels. lol

Saturday we went to Brylee’s first bday party. This was super exciting for me because Brylee is a friend we made here in Austin.  Her mom, Faren, goes to our church and I’m so glad she does.  🙂  Remember the pictures of D’s hair cut?  Faren cut it.  Faren cuts hair, makes clothes, scrapbooks and a bunch of other crafty stuff that I suck at…anyway.  It’s hard to put this feeling to words but it’s like I realized today we are making Austin our home.  When your 4 year old daughter is making friends and you’re at her bday party, you’re home.  When kids are happy, mama’s happy.

Thought two:  We just watched The Help.  I cried a little but not as much as I thought I would.  So many thoughts here: racism, social injustice, equal rights, false feeling of superiority, human trafficking.  But this is what stuck out the most:

“You is kind.  You is smart. You is important.”

Those words are so true and if we each had someone telling us that every day how different would this world be? But here is where it made me sad.  It wasn’t the mother telling her daughter these words.  No, it was the help.  The help loved that little girl and the little girl loved her.  The help was raising this little girl while her own mother lived in the same house.  The mother was so concerned with hosting a stupid bridge party and looking good in front of other stuck up, white ladies that she ignored her own daughter. How many kids grow up being ignored?  How many kids grow up feeling invisible?  How many kids try so hard to win the effection of their parents but get constantly overlooked?  How many kids act out because negative attention is better than no attention  This breaks my heart.

I tell D every 5 minutes that I love her.  I don’t ever want her feeling like she is not loved or not good enough.  I tell her all the time that even though I love her to the moon, to the sun to Jupiter and back 27 times that God loves her even more.  I tell her that she is special and if some stupid boy ever tells her differently she needs to move on.  I tell her that she needs to love herself and realize God made her just the way He wants her and she doesn’t have to pretend to be somebody else just to fit in.  I tell her these things and I pray she listens.

I’m not trying to sound like some amazing mom and make it seem like I’m perfect and have it all figured out.  I’m sure I’m screwing her up in other areas.  I know I’ll get blamed for something down the line because it’s  always the mom’s fault…I just want her to know she’s loved.

I leave you with this: All you need is love…What the world needs now, is love, sweet love.  It’s the only thing, that there’s just too little of…And I will always love you.

Thanks for allowing me to share my world with you…welcome to my brain.

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Shut-up and Let Her Paint

9 Jan

Brandn’s birthday is this Thursday and D is making 2 art projects for him.  She is painting 2 different objects and a towel is under all her stuff.  I continually remind her “be careful and don’t make a mess.”  I’m giving her total creative control and this is very hard for me.  I see how she’s painting her things and it’s nothing like how I think they should be painted.  But it’s her project.  She picked the items out from the store and she has a vision for each one and I’m doing my best not to interfere.

I don’t want to crush her ideas and her creativity.  I don’t want her to think that her art work is not good enough and then jump to the conclusion that she’s not good enough.  Will she think because she is having trouble staying in the lines, she must suck as a person?  Is that a reasonable conclusion to jump to? Of course not, so I tell myself to shut up and let her paint.

So, I sit here distracting myself with this blog and reminding her “be careful and don’t make a mess.”

One tubes of paint is clogged and she is trying to unclog it by squeezing the heck out of it.  I take it from her and tell her that’s not how you unclog a paint tube; that’s how you make a mess.  So I get a needle and attempt to unclog it.  It doesn’t work and before I know it, a stream of paint is shooting up in the air and then it’s everywhere.  D doesn’t acknowledge the mess but says “Good thing God was there to help you.”  I have no idea what she means but I say “good thing” anyway.

5 minutes later D does the same thing and paint is all over her cute, polka dot, pig jammies with feet. (I would totally wear these if they came in my size.)  And I say, in my mean mother voice, “Seriously D you just made a mess! Didn’t I tell you to be careful?!?”  And then I remember I did it too and I have to stop myself because I’m a big fat hypocrite. I dry her tears and tell her I’m sorry and it’s ok and she’s not in trouble.  She works for about 10 more minutes and now she’s done.  She is so proud of her 2 presents and you know what?  They are beautiful.  And she can’t wait till Thursday to give them to papa.

Art projects are done and the mess is cleaned up and now we’re chilling on the couch watching and singing The Phantom of the Opera.  Her movie choice not mine, but no complaints here.  😉

Thanks for allowing me to share my world with you…welcome to my brain.