That's My Baby

Our district had a back to school Open House, or "meet the teacher night" a few days ago. Between appointments to meet my own awesome classroom kiddos, I got to sneak down to my daughter's rooms to watch them meet their teachers and check out their rooms for the year. It's always a neat experience, and one where excitement and anticipation fill the air.

Today as I looked through some paper work we had brought home, I filled out a parent survey one of my girls' sweet teachers sent home. One of the questions was "Describe your child in 3 words" or something like that. While that should have been an easy task, it took me forever to figure out what I wanted to write down. 

Maybe part of the problem was I had a lot of words to choose from. After all, 3 words really isn't that many. However, I think that the bigger problem was, no matter what other words I thought of to put down, what I *really, really* wanted to write was "She's. My. Baby."

My oldest will be in second grade. She is not a baby. She is a huge helper, she is fiercely independent, she is strong, she is fiery, and she would NOT have appreciated me writing down that she is my baby. BUT oh my goodness - that IS what I want her teacher to know. It's probably what I will always want her teachers to know.

She's my baby. So is her sister. They have their ups and downs. They have great moments that stand out and hard moments that we work through daily. Sometimes they are awesomely kind and strong leaders for all the positive things, and sometimes they need redirection and a moment away to restart. But ALL the time they are my babies. The very best of me that I have to share - the ones I am pouring into, praying for and about, and working with towards all things good for their futures. And at the end of the day, what I really want from their teachers is to take care of them. Take care of my baby.

Oh, I'll tell her all day long that she is big. That "It's your job to ______". I'll remind her that she needs to be responsible. That she better follow directions and be kind. That she needs to be helper and a listener and a doer, and that she needs to put in to things if she hopes to get anything out of them .... but what I'm telling YOU is that she's my baby and she needs to be taken care of and loved on. And the rest? All those academics? I know they'll come with the love.

There is absolutely NOTHING  - no professional development, no advice, etc - that has ever impacted my teaching as much as being a parent to my own kiddos, and a lover of my friends kiddos, has. Because as I think about this feeling of sending my baby to someone else for so many hours a day, I'm reminded that all of the kiddos in my classes are someone's baby, too. 

Oh, my classes are made up of 4th graders. They are strong, and independent, and probably fiery - and they would likely roll their eyes if their parents had said to me at open house "this is my baby, please take care of him". So, instead, their parents said things to me like "Let me know if you need anything", and "Every now and then she struggles with _____" , or "Sometimes he needs _____". And every time a parent said "Please do not hesitate to email or call or text if you need something." what I know they were hoping I'd hear was "This is my baby. Please take care of them."

No matter how big our kids get - I'm talking even high school - I'm fairly certain this urge to remind people that these are our babies doesn't go away. We want someone to look out for them. To protect them a little. Proactively remind them of the right thing every now and then. Even to "light a fire" under them when needed ... but gently. Because what we really want as parents is to be absolutely certain that the people we are entrusting our kiddos to for so many hours a day are truly backing our kids and looking out for them in all the ways. We want them to take care of our babies.

So here's to a year of academic growth. Of sharing reading joy and inspiring writers. But first and foremost, here's to a year of loving on these awesome kids - that are someones absolute pride and joy - and helping them move forward with confidence and the most comfortable footing possible to stand on. Because every single student is the very best kiddo their parents have to send to school - and every single student is someone's baby that they just want to see thrive.

Hope

There is a unique privalege I get to have every now and then: a house full of young people. 

To be fair, I generally call them "the kids" - but they aren't just kids anymore. They are newlyweds. They are soon to be married couples. They are nearing college graduations. They are advancing in new careers. They come from multiple states and they've met each other for different reasons and in different places. Some of them know each other well, and some met for the first time tonight - you can't really tell which ones

They are preachers, Bible class teachers, and just straight up good people, no matter how you look at it. 

So, when we get the chance, we cook them dinner and set up tables for them to play card games at. In return, we get to listen to their laughter, share in their joy, watch them love on our kids, and watch them enjoy each other. We get to hear, and take a smalk part in, their conversations - the silly ones and the serious ones. 

We get to hear their take on global situations, politics, the Bible, and which movies to watch. We see them tease each other, encourage each other, and be real with each other. 

And every single time, at the end of the night, I think - despite everything we sometimes see - there is SO much hope for our world. 

I don't know *that* many people. But I'm confident that if there are a few more out there like this crew hanging out in my basement? Then God's people are alive and well, and the future is bright and strong. 

I know this stage of them needing a place to gather with their friends won't last long - they are already going a million directions. So, we enjoy the glimpses into their world that we catch, and are so thankful that for these brief moments of these precious years of their lives, we get to be a small part of their worlds, and even more thankful they are willing to be such a bright spot in our lives, and those of our girls.  

Maybe hope is as simple as a basement full of awesome young adults, ready to take on the world. 

Through Their Eyes.

 Every once in a while one of my girls says something in passing that jumps out at me and makes me thinks about things in a way I haven't before.  It happened again just the other day.

The girls were playing school with some dolls, and one of the students was apparently acting up a bit. My oldest, who is entering 2nd grade, was playing the teacher and said "Well, I'll just have to write that student's name on the board to remind everyone that he is bad."

Stop. Everything. 

I have written kids names on the board for many reasons at school. Line leader. Weekly helper. But also, who still needed to turn in a permission slip, who I needed to have a reading conference with, and who just couldn't stop talking during a guest speaker presentation and needed their attention "gotten" in a quiet way.

Never once have I intended to "remind everyone that he is bad." 

I can say with confidence that "reminding everyone that he is bad" has never once been the intention of any teacher my girl has had, either.

But here she was, playing school - and that was her rationale.

Now, I know, ... kids. They don't always understand things.

BUT GUYS. If even for a minute a kid thinks we are writing their name on the board to remind everyone else that they are bad .... that. is. terrible. 

We know a lot these days about kids emotions. We know kids don't function well when they are embarrassed. We know kids who are "labeled" a bad kid, often live up to it. We don't want to be any part of those things. If kids perceive that we are doing anything in order to make them stand out as "bad" or be labeled as "bad" or remind them - or anyone else - that they are "bad" .... how on earth can we expect them to work hard and be good?!

We can't.

Kids need us to tell them they are good. To show them they are good. To remind everyone else that they are good. Even when they aren't acting it.

Maybe it looks like "Hey Fred, I can see you are forgetting your manners right now. You are such a great kid, and I want you to be able to show everyone that! You need to stop _____ and remember to ______." 

Sometimes it looks like a quiet conversation in the hall instead of in the room to cause a scene.

Sometimes it looks like kneeling down next to them to talk softly instead of yelling at them across the room.

Sometimes, apparently, it looks like documenting their name, their need, their struggle, somewhere where not everyone can see it. 

I'm not saying you can never write a kids name on the board ... but you better believe I will be thinking twice before I write anyones name on the board for any reason that isn't absolutely positive - because I want to remind my kiddos to find the good in each other, certainly not remind everyone of the bad.

Doers.

A year or so ago my (then 4 year old) niece had a splinter. Which isn't a big deal, except it hurt, it was almost bedtime, and my sister was home alone with the kids. I mentioned it to Robbie and, without a moment hesitation, he headed over - with dippin dots ice cream - to help hold and sooth, and to get the splinter out.

On the way to their house, he saw a car pulled over with two people sitting on the hood looking frustrated. He texted me that he'd be a little longer than expected because after he got the splinter out he planned to go back and help those people. He did help them. It involved a jumpstart and following them too the nearest gas station to make sure they made it that far.

Today, on his day off he ran to the grocery store for me. On his way back he passed our neighbor's house where our neighbor lady was working on cutting down a pine tree with a hand saw. He drove home, and hollered to me that I could unload the groceries, because he was going back with the chainsaw to help her with that tree. And so, I put away the groceries, and then the girls and I got to ride along to help finish hauling the tree off to our burn pile.

I don't really tell you this to brag on Robbie... Although I can, and should, all the time, because he's awesome. I tell you this to encourage you to remind you the importance of - and power of - a doer. 

I'm a thinker and too often that leads to me thinking "man, I sure hope someone helps them..." But Rob is a doer. He's a need filler. He doesn't just stand in gaps for people, he jumps into them quickly - and without a second thought. 

We tell our girls we should love our neighbors. He shows them how every day. 

He offers help and truly means it every single time. He actively looks for needs he can see a way to fill ... And then he acts on them. 

James 1:22 reminds us to be doers of the word. Numerous verses remind us to love our neighbors as ourself.

Nothing "does" love your neighbor more than cutting up a neighbors tree on your day off, or mowing a different neighbors yard (without being asked) while they are on vacation, or jumpstarting a strangers car ....  And never expecting a thing in return. 

Love your neighbor. Be a doer - of the word, and of love. Stand in gaps for people. 

And if you find someone who does those things? Hold on tight to them, and let them make you better at it, too. 

Adding On Hospitality

The other day I had the pleasure of attending a ladies Bible study day hosted by my aunts and mom. It was wonderful, and I enjoyed seeing my parents sun porch filled with a wonderful group of people once again. 

See, some years ago my parents built an addition on to their house. It was a wonderful addition - it meant my sister and I would get our own rooms, there would be a bedroom for the new baby that was on the way, and we'd have a sunporch to enjoy.

At the time I don't suppose I was really *that* excited about the sun porch - especially in comparison to my own room. It was just a large room with a lot of windows and a laminate floor. However, I quickly learned to appreciate the space.

In such a space, tables could be left set up all the time. Big ones that held lots of people. There was a pass through window to the kitchen so snacks could be replinished easily.

It was as if, as part of the house addition, my parents had intentionally built in hospitality. In fact, I'm certain that's exactly what they did. 

And so, soon the game nights started. Dinner cast parties for our high school theatre groups began (complete with paparazzi, speeches, and a full meal - all on the sun porch). Teachers came over for brunch. The sun porch has held wedding showers, baby showers, and funeral dinners. It has witnessed wedding parties get prepped and ready to go out into the back yard to be married. 

Many a baby has been soothed by watching out the windows as they were rocked to sleep. Through those windows, lots of momma's have watched lots of kids play around on the porch and back yard and even in the pool. Kids have often been entertained watching out those windows with binoculars to spot the blue heron fishing, the deer munching, or the rabbits hopping around.

It has provided a rain shelter when the Pig Roast campout was driven inside. It has helped the house hold over 100 people at a time. It's offered a quiet sanctuary for small groups, and a loud, boisterous good time for large groups. 

It holds our family Christmas breakfast and larger family holiday get togethers. It's offered a place for a meal for brand new friends who were just passing through. It's provided a game night place for teenagers and college students even when my brother, sister, and I were not amongst the crowd. It's held women's Bible studies, ladies days, Valentines Day dinners, Halloween parties, Birthday parties, good times, and serious chats. It's even held work retreats and business dinners 

Those tables could be rearranged - small groups, big long tables, buffet style tables, family style meals - and you can almost always count on a dessert table. They are decorated seasonally - even my 4 year old knows she can judge the closeness of a holiday by the sun porch decor. But they are always there - with plenty of chairs - and the reminder that a spill is no trouble because the table cloths will wash.

Oh, when my parents built the sun porch, I'm certain not everyone understood why they'd want a large open room for tables. But clearly they had a plan. A really intentional and awesome one.

They had a drive for hospitality. 

Oh, they were hospitable before the sun porch. They had events, they'd hosted parties and showers and get togethers ... But with the addition of the sun porch they made the clearest of choices to make hospitality a way of life. To designate a way to make opening their home to others a consistent part of their world. 

And me? Well, I get a front row seat to enjoy the benefits from. I see how people become bonded through their time visiting with one another. I see how they relax and enjoy because the space is just clearly meant for that. I've gotten to watch many family members enjoy each other's company and many new friends get to know one another. And always, my parents are there, somehow working behind the scenes and right in the middle of the joy, all at once. All because they decided to build hospitality right into their home through the addition of a sun porch. 

What an example. What a blessing. What a sun porch.