Tag Thoughtful Parenting

How Did the Holy Family Figure It Out?

Intentergy 1 Comment

It’s crazy how often we find ourselves praying for one thing and then the words of someone we love or respect smack us right upside the head with the truth about what we need in place of what we thought we wanted. This past Sunday, I entered church in a very snippy mood. My children had aggravated me to the point I was not feeling very faithful. I kneeled in the pew and prayed for God to help me handle my little heathens.

It just so happened that this Sunday was the feast of the Holy Family and the readings were about what God asked of Mary and Joseph, how Mary held all the worries and wonders in her heart, and how Jesus grew smart, strong, and full of grace. Our priest Father Tony is one of the most relatable pastors we could ever ask for. He started his homily by speaking on how happy it made him to see the way our community always comes together and the work we do to raise our children well. He went on to say that he knew not all families were made the same. He mentioned the “nuclear” families, the blended families, the families made up of grandparents raising grandchildren, foster families, and any variety of “dysfunctional” families possible. He told us of his estranged brother and how it hurt him to think of his brother’s decision to remove himself from their lives.

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Don’t Call Me “Mom”

Intentergy 2 Comments

There is no joy greater that hearing your child say “mama” or “dada” for the first time, except maybe the happiness that comes from silence when they are sleeping after hearing those words 1,000,000 times.

I love my children more than anything in life…. but sometimes they get on my nerves.

It’s not so much that they want to be in my space, eat my food, prevent my sleep, or destroy my house, but that they cannot seem to leave each other alone for one, blessed second.

In those instances where the temptation to pester one another is too great, I always find myself in the form of a fire-breathing dragon fully prepared to skewer and roast their little, antagonizing selves. (Then I remember how much time and money I have invested in them, and I transform back into a loving, caring mother.)

After a particularly arduous 25-minute car ride to town last summer, I declared that no one was to call me “Mom” for the duration of our trip. (We were going to two stores and pick up lunch, but I wasn’t too sure I could avoid eating my young at that point.) I announced that I was no longer to be called “Mom,” but rather my children were to address me as “Lady Madame Josephine” before speaking to me at any time. This command was met with silence and then laughter from my children.

As soon as the first child chose to say the dreaded M-word, I pulled off into a parking lot, stopped the car, and with the blazing heat of a true mama dragon, I seared them with my words, “My name is Lady Madame Josephine. If you want to have lunch today you will address me as such.” Silence again.

No one spoke until we arrived serenely at our first stop. My daughter tentatively said, “May I ask a question?”

My reply, “You may.”

My daughter’s inquiry, “Why do you want us to call you ‘Lady Madame J… ‘; what was it again?”

I answered, “Lady Madame Josephine.”

My daughter again, “Why do you want us to call you ‘Lady Madame Josephine’?”

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