Touch is Powerful Thing

The last week has been full of adjustment.  We have returned to our routine of dash out the door in the morning, make sure clothes are laid out, lunches are prepped, and bags are packed the evening before.  I am falling into the rhythm of lesson planning and grading papers, and using every second of my lunch and prep time to the best of my ability so I can walk out of school by the 4:15 I have promised myself daily.  You see, my couch is calling me… not so I can collapse there with exhaustion (though I totally could!!) but because it is where both boys fit in my lap for our afternoon/evening snuggles.  There is nothing like the feeling of a lap full of wiggly hugs.  A full lap is the outward sign of a full heart.

  I will admit, I have been feeling the stress of it all as we adjust.  My shoulders and neck ache at night from the tension I often don’t even realize I am carrying… but when I get home and my lap is full I feel it all melt away.  There is peace in those snuggles, there is comfort in those snuggles, the stress of the day releases, and my heart is happy.  While I can see their cute faces on my desk each time I pass by it, there is nothing like the power of touch, the comfort of having them in my arms.

Over the years there have been studies and research about the power of touch- it really is a precious element of our five senses.  Touch can release the “feel good” chemical oxytocin making us calm down, relieving stress, and often putting us in a better mood.  Touch is a sense that is incredibly important for the development of infants as they rely on touch to help them feel safe and secure. 

The hug from my mom as she left my house the day before I returned to school reminded me that she had been there and knew exactly what I was feeling.  The squeeze of (A)’s hand as we sat in the car reminded me that he believed in me.  The kiss on my cheek (and insistence that I REALLY needed to wear a tiara to school) were (a)’s reminders to me that I am his “mommy-princess.”  The power of touch is strong.

We see Old Testament characters die over touching something that was forbidden, and New Testament lives healed and changed forever with one touch from Jesus.  Touch is a powerful thing.  And while I can’t physically reach out and touch the robe of Jesus, I know that from time to time he has sent the touch of others to help remind me of just how much He loves me.

So when exhaustion has the best of him and (a) asks to snuggle I will stop what I am doing, because touch is a powerful thing.  When (b) cries while I’m eating dinner, I will eat one handed so I can hold him, touch is a powerful thing.  I will hold (A)’s hand in the car as a reminder that we are on this adventure together, touch is a powerful thing.  I will pat my students on the shoulder in encouragement as a I walk by during their math test, touch is a powerful thing.  I will hug the friend at church who needs it, touch is a powerful thing.  And I will daily thank God for the healing gift of touch- it really is a powerful thing.

“She said to herself, “If I only touch his cloak, I will be healed.” Matthew 9:21

Every Girl Needs a Tribe

Life is full of tough things.  I’m a pretty independent gal, but even so I’m glad we were never intended to face those tough things alone.  I’m a firm believer that every girl, whether 2 or 102, needs a “tribe,” a cheering section, some people to lean on.

My stage of life is that tough mom stage.  These little boys are such huge blessings, but sometimes even our blessings can overwhelm us.  Many days both of them are crying at once, or both of them are hungry at the same time (but currently fed in ways that I can’t help them both at the same time), three year old independence is a challenge, and life balance is hard to find.  Sometimes I feel like (A) and I just survive in the same house and sneak in 2 minutes of adult conversation every other day or so between episodes of cartoons and loads of laundry.  It’s tough… but then my “mom tribe” reminds me I’m not alone. 

A few weeks ago, we were with friends who are all in the same stage of life we are living through.  All our kiddos were playing together and I quickly realized we were all independently disciplining our children for essentially the same behaviors- behaviors that I was stressing about because I thought we had the only kid in the world who was acting that way.  We laughed as we realized we all were worried about our parenting, thinking maybe we were failing our kids, only to see it is truly a developmental stage we will all face, guide and correct them through, and move on.  None of us are failing and we shouldn’t feel like we’re in it alone.

The best thing about my “mom tribe” is- we aren’t all in the same stage of life.  Some of them are older than me, and their kids are older than me… meaning they survived this stage and lived to tell about it.  Their encouragement reminds me that I too can do it!  When I went back to school yesterday it was emotional for me.  While I love what I do, I love being mom too and transitioning back to the classroom and my boys back to daycare had me feeling a little nervous… but I have a tribe.  School had a welcome sign for me on the marquee when I pulled up, inside I was greeted with a banner hanging that had been signed by the entire student body, I received texts and emails from friends both local and far away, as well as parents of students in my classroom letting me know that they were praying for our transition.  My class threw me a welcome back party, and my principal burst through the door of my room during the first part of the morning to announce “Welcome Home!”  Truthfully, yesterday I wiped more happy tears for how loved I felt than I wiped in sadness as I kissed my babies good-bye.    Tough days are so much easier with a tribe!

And I know the is only one stage where I will need a tribe.  I’ve watched my mom support friends through the journey of releasing kids to spread their wings and fly.  I’ve seen teacher friends form new bonds and mentorships in their retirement.  For years we were in a church where the widows supported each other so much they even named their little “tribe” of friends- and when a lady faced the painful loss of burying her husband, they were right there to hold her up.  You often even saw them come help fill her pew at church when she returned for the first time after walking through that valley.

Life is tough, but God calls us to live in community, to pray for each other, to do life together, to encourage each other, to hold each other up, to walk through the valleys and climb the peaks together. 

Every girl needs a tribe. To tell her she’s got this, to remind her she’s not alone, to let her know they have been there, and to bring food (or unsweet ice tea) when she needs it.  To celebrate her wins, and to cry with her when she doesn’t win.  To tell her that her hair looks great on a day when everything else is falling apart, to tell her that her dress is tucked into her pantyhose on a day when she things she is winning at everything. 

Every girl needs a tribe… and on days like yesterday I am SO very grateful for mine!

“For I want very much to see you, so I may impart to you some spiritual gift to strengthen you, that is, to be mutually encouraged by each other’s faith, both yours and mine.” Romans 1: 11-12

He Makes Me Brave

A week ago this past Sunday, one of the sweet jr high girls from our church mentioned to (a) that there was going to be a rodeo in the little town where she lives on Friday night.  Now if there is one thing that gets (a) excited it is the rodeo.  Allllll week he kept telling me he was going to go to the rodeo on Friday with his friend (K).  Once that has been mentioned to him, there isn’t any getting it off his mind either! So while (A) already had a commitment Friday evening, I began planning a night out at the rodeo for the boys and I. 

The night before, as I was looking up the directions to the arena and times for the rodeo, I discovered there was also going to be a Mutton Bustin’ (sheep riding) competition for kids under 75 lbs.  I started reading about it and discovered it was something that kids could sign up for the night of the event- registration wasn’t due early- and it only cost $5 to enter.  I had a feeling it might be something (a) would be interested in, but I wanted it to be his decision.  When he woke up on Friday morning, I mentioned I had some YouTube videos I wanted him to watch, and I showed him some clips of mutton bustin’ competitions at other fairs and rodeos.  Within just a few minutes he announced, “That’s awesome! Mommy I want to ride a sheep!” I then told him it was going to be a part of the rodeo that evening, and that if he wanted to, we would let him compete.  We spent quite a while discussing that he would have to be on the sheep all by himself, I couldn’t go with him, the sheep would be fast, he would fall off, all the things I thought he really needed to be aware of- but he was confident and SUPER excited… he was going to ride a sheep!  He spent the better part of the morning riding around our living room on his inflatable “buckin’ bull” telling us he was practicing riding a sheep, and he then took a nap without argument “to make sure he had plenty of energy” for the evening’s event. 

We arrived plenty early to make sure we were there in time to register, they were only taking the first 30 kids who signed up.  He was BEYOND excited to get a back number with his own name on it.  He loves to wear rodeo back numbers that my brother in law gives him after his competitions, but this time it had his OWN name on it and he was so proud.  I noticed as we signed up that most of the other children competing were 6 or 7 years old.  They were twice his age and almost twice his size, but he didn’t seem to notice.  It was an hour before the rodeo began, and (a) continually asked me when it would be his turn, he could hardly contain his excitement.  Finally, about two minutes before 7:00, they called for all competitors in the mutton bustin’ to report to the buckin’ chute area. 

He proudly handed me his cowboy hat as we walked that way, he was already aware of the fact he would have to trade it in for a helmet.  As we got down to the line up area, I watched his eyes get bigger and bigger.  We walked past the bull riders who were getting ready- they were loud and rough as they were putting resin on their boots, strapping on their spurs, and bracing up their arms.  As he got in line in number order, he was within feet of the bulls who where snorting and pushing each other and banging the gates of their pens.  I could see in (a)’s body language that he was getting nervous.  I was fully prepared for him to back out at any moment- after all he is 3 and I was not going to make him do this if he didn’t want to.  He kept holding my hand standing in line as the competition started.  He was going to be number 13 out of the gate.  The first time I heard him say “Mommy!” I held my breath, I was sure this was going to be the moment his mind changed, but instead his question was when he would get his helmet.  I assured him it would be just a minute.  A few seconds later, “Mommy!” Again, I thought NOW he was going to back out, but again he was asking about the helmet- there was a certain one he really wanted.  When it was his turn for the helmet and protective vest, I helped him get situated, and then with 4 riders ahead of him, it was time I had to let go of his hand and he had to go the rest of the way without me. 

As I stepped on into the side of the ring to get my camera ready to video, I still was fully prepared for him to back out.  My heart was racing when I realized he was next- not because I feared for his safety, but because I really had no idea if he was really going to go through with it.  Sure enough… the man helping picked him up and set him down into the bull chute on the back of his sheep.  My mommy heart did a pitter patter and I swallowed hard as the announcer called his name and age over the loud speaker… it was the first time his named had ever been announced in public over any kind of PA system.  And then… we waited.  At first there was a problem with his helmet that they had to fix (he has an unusually large, oblong head for a 3 year old), but once I saw them strap it back on him we waited a few more seconds.  I could tell they were having to boost his confidence a little bit.  At that point I was SURE they were just going to lift him back out.  The announcer asked the crowd to clap for him to show their support and people began to cheer.  In just a second the chute opened and out he came!  He had a little assistance from one of the men, and the ride only lasted about 2 seconds, but HE DID IT.  I thought my heart was going to burst with pride for his bravery.  There weren’t even any tears in his eyes.

I waved and yelled to him from the side of the ring and he came over to me to head back to our seats.  Immediately I told him what a great job he had done and how incredibly proud of him I was.  He looked up at me with a look of sadness in his big, blue eyes and said to me “But Mommy, I got kind of scared.”  My heart broke a little as I realized he was disappointed in himself.  I gave him and big hug and told him I could tell he was scared, but that was why I was SO proud of him- he was scared, but he did it anyway and THAT was what it really meant to be a brave cowboy.  He perked up when he realized he was still a brave cowboy, even though he had been a little scared.  He quickly began asking when he could ride a sheep again, and by the time we were back to our seat and our friends he was already swaggering and tipped his hat to his friend (K) as he told her he was a “great cowboy” (said in a super drawn out, low voice- it is his quite hilarious signature announcement). 

Baby brother was just there to look cute in his "first rodeo" shirt ;-)

We are working on important doses of humble as well… but for that night I told him he was a champion in my book and I praised his bravery over and over.  I giggled as he continued to tell everyone what a great cowboy he was.  No there was no buckle won, and no place his name would be recorded for his placing, but that night he had looked fear in the face and didn’t let it win.  After living through a year where God helped me focus on being BRAVE, I was so thankful to see my own little boy learning those lessons at such a young age.

I pray that if he is brave enough to face his fears at the rodeo, he will also be brave enough to face his fear to invite a friend to church someday, to be brave enough to stand up to peer pressure as a teen, be brave enough to speak for his faith, be brave enough to be a leader in his family, church, and community… because watching him be brave, makes ME want to be brave also.

“For I am the Lord your God who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you.” Isaiah 41:13