It’s Friday, which means it’s time for another Meet Me At This Moment for Five Minute Friday post! I spend the last hour of Thursday chatting it up with a group of authentic and inspiring Five Minute Friday bloggers on Twitter (#FiveMinuteFriday #fmfparty). One minute past midnight EST Friday, Lisa-Jo Baker gives us a single word prompt and we all write a blog post centered around that word. We write for five minutes, and five minutes only! In the words of Lisa, this is “unscripted. unedited. real.” You meet me at this moment in time…my thoughts and opinions, my joys and sorrows, my dilemmas and dreams. And I receive one of the greatest gifts ever…a regular outlet for processing and expressing my thoughts without constantly editing myself. This is my life, my perspective, unfiltered.

The word of the week is WELCOME. 

Ready. Set. GO!

My daughter dances. We’re at a new studio, so I’m still getting acclimated. Each week I meet and greet the few people I know, and find my secret place to watch through the windows. All in that secret space – my daughter’s class, the class across the way with middle school girls, and the class across the other way with high school dancers. The high school girls move me. The sassy song playing repeatedly, dancers in the dark, twirling and swirling, down on the floor, arms up, down, and all around. These girls are awesome, and I want to dance like them.

When I was a girl, I wanted to be a ballerina. In my adult years, I’ve daydreamed of being a back-up dancer for a singer. Fierce and powerful, without hesitating a single step. I want to be like that. Maybe it’s a mixture of beautiful ballerina and fierce backup dancer that I want to be?

These girls dancing. I watch them every week. The little ones behind me, the big ones in front of me.

This week, the high school girls came out in the hall, out of the normal routine. Alone with their phones for a bit, then talking.

My baby on the floor took one of their water bottles and started playing. They gathered around, in fact, hovered around. A girl I noticed had been quiet prior was now close by the baby. She told me she nannied for four children this past summer. Quiet girl with much behind those eyes, I had identified earlier as maybe being like myself, and now this love for the baby so evident, bright and shining. Then all the girls, loving on the baby. Just as they were. Just as I was. Just as the baby was. All quietly giggling, watching, admiring this baby, those sweet toes, those precious little hands pushing on the bottle making snapping and crackling noises and baby smiling up at the girls. I felt so welcome among these girls 20 years younger than me. Minimal words necessary. We were one. There is hope in this generation, camaraderie. Welcome.

Stop.

They will come and shout for joy on the heights of Zion; they will rejoice in the bounty of the Lord — the grain, the new wine and the olive oil, the young of the flocks and herds. They will be like a well-watered garden, and they will sorrow no more. Then young women will dance and be glad, young men and old as well. I will turn their mourning into gladness; I will give them comfort and joy instead of sorrow. I will satisfy the priests with abundance, and my people will be filled with my bounty,” declares the Lord.  Jeremiah 31: 12-14

Amy

It is my pleasure to introduce you to my daughter Elsa and her friend Hannah, two girls that represent the next generation of moms! I have had this post on my heart for months, so I am happy to be able to finally share it with you today.

Months ago, Elsa had her friend Hannah over to play. I was changing my daughter’s diaper on the floor, and Hannah and Elsa were watching me. Out of the blue, Elsa said to Hannah “Are you going to be a good mom when you get bigger?” Taken aback by this question, I responded immediately with an adamant “You girls are going to be AWESOME moms!”

I don’t remember what else I said that day, but it doesn’t even matter. The fact is that I was shocked that my six-year-old was asking her friend IF she was going to be a “good mom” someday! I couldn’t help but wonder how it was she got to this place. How is it that in our American culture, a six-year-old has been exposed to so many messages about mothering, subtly and not so subtly, that she is already questioning a friend about her future mothering abilities? And what does that say about my own daughter’s confidence in her future mothering abilities? If she’s asking her friend “Are you going to be a good mom when you get bigger?” then she is likely asking that of herself.

Whether we innately want to be “good moms,” or this message is passed through our culture, or both, I have come to despise the phrase “good mom.” And the fact that my daughter already has a sense or fear about this “good mom” concept makes me want to stand up for all the girls of the next generation and say with all clarity and conviction – let’s eliminate the notion of “good mom” once and for all!

I was a “good girl.” I can’t say exactly what constitutes a “good girl,” but I know I was one. I didn’t do much wrong and I didn’t cause much trouble, and that’s just who I was.

So when I became a mother, I naturally wanted to be a “good mom.” The only problem was that I was never exactly sure what a “good mom” was, nor am I 10 years after becoming a mother. We all have a sense of a “good mom” when we see one, and there seems to be a lot of pressure to be a “good mom.” Even before I became a mom, I had people tell me I was going to be a “good mom,” but funny thing is once you become a mom and have some real experience behind you, nobody goes around telling you if you’re actually a “good mom” or not, so you’re never quite sure how you’re doing. Yes, your instinct tells you when you’ve done something right, and you’ll certainly find out when you’ve done something wrong as a mom, but there is no concrete definition of “good mom” we can use to verify YES, I’m doing this right, or NO, I’m doing that wrong.

“Good mom.” This nebulous”good mom.”

Does a “good mom” give birth naturally, medication free? Is she a “good mom” if she has an epidural? (3,680,000 results on Google search)? What if she has a c-section? (59,100,000 results on Google search)

Does a “good mom” breast feed until the recommended one-year of age? Is she still a “good mom” if she nurses until three months and then formula feeds (6,190,000 results on Google search)? What if she only formula feeds?

Does a “good mom” make her baby’s food from scratch, boiling organic food and then milling it by hand? Is she still a “good mom” if she just buys the old fashioned jars of Gerber baby food? (173,000,000 results on Google search)

Does a “good mom” stay home full-time to care for her children? Is she still a “good mom” if she chooses to work part-time or full-time, or if she has to work full-time or nights or weekends to make ends meet (132,000,000 results on Google search)?

Does a “good mom” send her kids to public school or private school, or does she homeschool? (2,290,000 results on Google search)?

Does a “good mom” hover over her children, supervising them every moment, making sure they are behaving properly, not getting in harm’s way? Is she still a “good mom” if she sends them outside to play and only checks on them once in a while? Or does a “good mom” play with her children and engage them during all waking hours so they can achieve optimal development? (24,600,000 results on Google search)?

Does a “good mom” prepare a homemade meal every night and include all the food groups? Is she still a “good mom” if she gets a basic meal on the table most nights and brings her kids out for fast food here and there? (2,140,000 results on Google search)?

Or how about some even more nebulous ones…

Is she a “good mom” if she gets called by her child’s principal because her child misbehaved in school? Is she still a “good mom” if she gets called two or three times?

Is she a “good mom” if she brought her child to school one day too soon after the lice treatments, and even after all the work she did, it’s discovered that the lice weren’t gone yet and have now spread to other children in the classroom? (I’m sure it’s happened thousands of times.)

Is she a “good mom” if her teen hates church when faith is the most important thing in the world to her?

Can she feel confident she is a “good mom” when her child has autism, a learning disability, attention deficit disorder, bipolar disorder, attachment disorder, some vague undetermined “not otherwise specified” or “developmental delay” or any number of diagnoses where the cause is unknown, not fully understood, and/or partially genetic, and she has therapists and doctors and psychologists reminding her of all the different ways she needs to parent her child? (Let me be clear on this one, the answer is YES.)

Listen folks. I could go on and on. This makes my head swim and seeing those Google stats makes me realize why moms have a hard time feeling confident.

The fact remains true. The definition of a “good mom” is nebulous and therefore unattainable.

Perhaps we should reframe our notion of “good mom” into something like “doing her best as a mom” or “loves her children with wild abandon even though she’s not a perfect mom.”

Give yourself some grace as a mom, extend another mom grace for her journey, and fully accept the grace God offers you every single day. I will never feel sufficient or proficient to carry out the task of mothering on my own, but I am not alone. For God says in 1 Corinthians 12:9 “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Although we are not perfect human beings, nor perfect moms, and maybe not always “good moms,” we can rest in peace knowing there is a God that offers grace. And there are millions of moms, dads, grandparents, and others to provide support when we need help along the way.

So on that note, let’s ditch that old-fashioned notion of “good mom” for all the moms of the next generation.

For Hannah.

 For Lucy.

For Ingrid.

For Raegan.

For Eva.

For Annika.

For Riese.

For Haylee.

For Briana.

For Lexi.

For Ava.

For Emma.

For Julia & Lucy.

For Hanna.

My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. 1 Corinthians 12:9

Amy

*A special thanks to all the moms that gave me permission to use their daughters’ pictures in this post.

It’s Friday, which means it’s time for another Meet Me At This Moment for Five Minute Friday post! I spend the last two hours of Thursday chatting it up with a group of authentic and inspiring Five Minute Friday bloggers on Twitter (#FiveMinuteFriday #fmfparty). One minute past midnight EST Friday, Lisa-Jo Baker gives us a single word prompt and we all write a blog post centered around that word. We write for five minutes, and five minutes only! In the words of Lisa, this is “unscripted. unedited. real.” You meet me at this moment in time…my thoughts and opinions, my joys and sorrows, my dilemmas and dreams. And I receive one of the greatest gifts ever…a regular outlet for processing and expressing my thoughts without constantly editing myself. This is my life, my perspective, unfiltered.

The word of the week is GRASP. 

Ready. Set. GO!

I admit, I’ve been having some body image issues lately. My baby is nine months, and I’ve been stuck five pounds above my pre-pregnancy weight for four months.

Last Sunday, getting ready for church, I was possibly at my worst. I stood in the closet, looking for what to wear. I put on a pear of my bigger pants. Even those didn’t fit. This is the problem I’ve had for months. Nothing fits except the leggings. Capri leggings in the summer, and now long leggings for the colder weather. None of the regular pants fit and it is making me crazy. Some say, “oh, just get some different pants,” or “don’t worry, you’ll fit into them soon enough.” But it has really been getting me down that NONE of the pants fit in my closet, and I don’t want to buy all new pants!

So this pair of pants, one of the bigger pair, was my best bet. I put them on and the fat rolled off the side just as I hated with every other pair. I wish I could just be ok with it and wear them that way. But I feel fat and uncomfortable with that fat rolling off the side.

Then I wonder if a shirt will help cover it up. That didn’t help at all. In fact, the shirt highlights the fat even more.

Maybe a double layer will help. The plain sweater, camoflauge it all? Nope. That didn’t do it either. The fat still shows through even with the double layer. I am feeling worse and worse as every layer goes on.

Then I strip it all off and put on the flowy dress with the flowy vest and leggings. And it all feels covered, and nobody can see all of the dilemma I faced in that closet, the tears, the agony, the fight within myself.

I look over at that dress I wore one year ago when I was pregnant. Oh so pretty. Bought that regular dress so I could “wear it after,” but it still doesn’t fit, and that makes me just want to be pregnant all my life so I don’t have to worry about feeling fat anymore.

And then I hear crying from the room next door to that closet. Little baby. I enter, and there is baby standing up in her crib, and I grasp at the beauty I birthed from this body. This body, what I call fat, birthed this being. And enters another being I birthed, my son. From within this fat, came him too. And they are beautiful. And they love. And they are so much more than my fat, my feelings of inadequacy in my own body. And it all makes more sense, and it all puts it in a new light. And I grasp for the truth God speaks to my heart…I feel fat, but I am blessed. And God says I am beautiful.

Stop.

Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes. Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight. 1 Peter 3:3-4

Amy

September is Blog Month at Compassion International. As a Compassion Blogger, my goal is to share my heart for children in poverty and encourage others to change lives through child sponsorship.

This is the last week of Blog Month. As of this afternoon, 715 children still needed sponsors if we are to meet Compassion’s goal of 3,108 children sponsored in just 30 days!

Together, we can change the lives of children in poverty! If you have ever felt called to sponsor a child through Compassion International, I strongly encourage you to take a leap of faith and click here for more information.

This week, I gave my seven-year-old daughter an opportunity to step into the shoes of a child waiting for a sponsor. She whole-heartedly agreed, so we looked through the Compassion website for a special little girl that tugged at her heart. We found a sweet three-year-old from Bolivia named Alejandra.

I told my daughter she should write about how she would feel if she was Alejandra, and gave her four writing prompts.

1) How do you feel?

2) What are you scared of?

3) What do you need?

4) What do you wish for?

This evening, I humbly introduce you to the “voice” of three-year-old Alejandra as written from the perspective of my seven-year-old daughter. 

I feel sad and lonely.

I am scared of robbers and storms.

I need food and friends.

I wish for sun and rainbows.

It’s as simple as that. Little Alejandra is still in need of a sponsor. For more information about Alejandra, click here. Imagine how much love and hope Alejandra will feel when she gets a sponsor!

These are the final days of Compassion’s Blog Month, and hundreds of children are still waiting for a sponsor. Let’s rally around this goal and sponsor those remaining 715 children! 

One last call (for now!)…if you want to sponsor a child through Compassion International, click here!

But Jesus called the children to him and said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.” Luke 18: 16

Amy 

It’s a joy to introduce you to sweet Cynthia who unknowingly forever altered my view of “sugar and spice and everything nice!”

It was just four days from the start of the new school year for the kids. My husband planned a special trip to an amusement park with my son, so I planned a trip to the Mall of America for some fun at Nickelodeon Universe with my baby daughter, older daughter, and my daughter’s friend. Before we even left the house, the girls had determined it was crucial they wear their matching dresses. Purple dresses, energy, and all, we enjoyed a whole day at the mall – rides, lunch in the food court, a little shopping (we picked up some purple boots so they could be matching from head to toe, of course), rides, poses with characters, a snack, rides, a few bathroom breaks, and more rides!

Then we met Cynthia. We were eating dinner in the food court and she approached our table. As she quietly cleaned up the mess on the floor around us, she so sweetly complimented the girls on their matching dresses. “You girls are all dressed up so pretty!” Cynthia said. She noted their boots, and my daughter told Cynthia the whole story about how she had just bought the boots today in the mall. The girls smiled and giggled a bit, all cute and sweet.

Then Cynthia said “You girls sure are sugar and spice and everything nice, and make sure you keep it that way, alright?” As Cynthia walked away, one of the girls said playfully but assuredly “no way!” Both girls started giggling, looking towards Cynthia who was already at a distance.

As I watched Cynthia, thinking what a nice and sweet woman she was, what a delightful blessing she had been to me and the girls, already sensing I might want to blog about this interaction, I realized the girls were getting a little out of hand with their chocolate chip cookies. And suddenly, the sugar and nice had become a lot more spice!

Even the baby knew there was fun to be had!

Yes, she was somewhere under all of that love!

It wasn’t until after the cookie incident I realized that in those moments, I let all of the sugar and nice in me just wash away. I let the girls be girls. I let them be silly, I let them be goofy, I let them be themselves, and it was fun. I didn’t worry about what all of the people thought at the tables around us, I didn’t worry if they thought I was a perfect mom or not. The girls proved they have a little spice in them, and I did too by letting the girls just be. It was good, and it maybe even necessary to fully live in that moment.

How often am I just too sugary, too nice?  I worry about making a good impression, I worry about things being perfect, I let things get to me, I want to do it right, I don’t want anyone to think bad things about me or my children, I want to raise my children right and live right! My heart wants to do it all just right, but my brain knows that meeting all of those criteria and living up to those standards is impossible. Things will never be perfect and often there are no clear answers. Sometimes, perhaps most of the time, others’ impressions of me really don’t matter. Not everybody is going to like me, understand me, or agree with me. And my children? Well, there is no set formula, and I can help re-package their little lives in sugar and nice over and over again, but they will still make mistakes and fail, just like me. In fact, it’s only by the grace of God that any of us make anything of ourselves. Our lives are not a direct result of doing or performing in some particular way, some prepackaged sugary and nice way of living, do it this way and you’ll get this result.

In fact, it is when we step out of the box and add a little spice to our lives, that we fully live.

Reflecting on that moment with the girls, I wonder if it is all a matter of the heart. If I trust that God made me in His image, then I am free to be ALL He created me to be, the sugar, the nice, AND the spice. While I of course want to parent responsibly and develop human beings to the very best of my ability, I also want to entrust them to God and free my children to be ALL they were created to be, not just the prepackaged sugar and nice box of unattainable perfection.

Thank you Cynthia, for being an angel in that moment. You helped me realize that sugar and spice and everything nice isn’t just about the sugar and nice. Sometimes it’s about the spice too.

For everything God created is good, and nothing is to be rejected if it is received with thanksgiving. 1 Timothy 4:4

Amy