confidence in motherhood: is it even possible?

Written in response to my blogger friend (and real-life friend) Courtney DeFeo's post "Confidence in Motherhood: Is It Even Possible?"  Someday I'll learn to write short posts. Until then, thanks for hanging in there with me.

No matter our profession, I think we all have days where our confidence wanes and we wonder "Am I doing this right?  Am I the right person for this job?" Motherhood is no exception.   The modern-day myth that we should be uber-confident, "I'm-doing-an-awesome-job-and-I-have-it-all-under-control" women simply isn't realistic.  Just like any other job, there are places where moms feel sure-footed, and there are places where we feel lost at sea. It's normal for our confidence to ebb and flow a little bit.

A little bit is OK, but I have about eight years of journal entries that mention feeling "unconfident" about my job as a stay-at-home mom.  It didn't cripple me, but it popped up almost every day in some form -- feeling like I should be doing something more.  Like being a mom wasn't enough.  I feel like I'm finally on the other side of this strife, and I write today because I believe there are two big reasons why a mom's confidence in her role is something worth fighting for:

1.  Being (and being around) someone with crummy self-confidence is no fun. Your husband doesn't want to come home to a whiny, bedraggled, "this is so hard and I don't think I'm doing a good job" wife.  He just doesn't.  Should you lie and tell him your day was simply fabulous -- that going to the grocery store with a tantrum-throwing 3-year old and baby with a runny nose was better than Disney World?  No.  But the next time you're tempted to rattle off some huge speech about how hard your day was, why not come up with something better to say? Find the good. Sure, being patient with little ones and methodical with discipline and crafty in meal planning can be redundant and exhausting, but it's our job -- and we can either focus on the pros or wallow in the cons. And wallowing in the cons is a sin, so cut it out.

2.  Our attitude toward motherhood (and work, and marriage and everything else) rubs off on our kids.  They hear a fraction of what we tell them, but learn a ton from what we show them.  Even if you come from a long line of worriers or complainers or woe-is-me'ers, quit it.  Decide that you'll be the one who breaks the chain.  Go ahead and pass down the DNA for good hair or straight teeth, but for Pete's sake, stop the train of low self-confidence and self-defamation.

Sometimes our feelings are really just bad habits.  That's where I was.  Wondering if I was "doing enough" had simply become part of my daily to-do list, and it eventually became a distraction that stole my joy.  I didn't wallow around in pity all day, but in my own little mind, I couldn't quit wondering if this was "all" I should be doing.

I prayed incessantly that God would take these feelings of inadequacy.  Nothing changed.  I memorized scripture.  Nothing changed.  I reminded myself of the importance of my role and gave myself pep talks.  Nothing changed.  Truthfully, I don't know what caused the shift (probably the prayer), but this feeling of inadequacy has lifted (rejoice!), and below are three things I believe can help foster (and maintain) a healthy level of self-confidence in motherhood.

Try

My confidence as a mom is not unlike my confidence in my physique.  When I'm exercising regularly and eating fairly well, I don't really even notice my body.  I don't look in the mirror to see if my face looks bloated or check to see if my triceps jiggle when I wave. When I'm taking care of myself, I don't think about whether jeans hug my booty too tight.  It's easier to be confident because I know I'm trying.

But when I'm eating junk and and skipping my morning jog, I become really self-conscious.  My mood turns sour, I notice every lump and bump, and I look for my "fat clothes" when I get dressed in the morning. The scale might not have budged from last week when I was taking good care of myself, but my confidence has taken a dramatic turn.

When I'm trying -- when I'm doing things I know are good for my health -- I feel more confident about how I look.

Similarly, I'm confident as a parent when I know I'm trying.  What does this look like?  For me, "trying" might mean something as fundamental as wholeheartedly doing things with our kids, like playing soccer out back, helping our daughter with her piano lesson, or jingling a rattle for the baby.  Other times it means working diligently on planning nutritious meals, keeping up with the laundry, or reading bedtime stories without looking at the clock. It can be as simple as starting my day praying over each child, asking for eyes to see who needs what from me that day.   "Trying" means giving it our all -- doing the best we can, whether it's reading about discipline, being consistent with consequences, or playing a game of hopscotch.  Sometimes I actually say the word out loud to myself when I need a little prod.  "Try."  There's great confidence to be found in working hard. 

{Aside: on the days I feel most confident, I'm trying AND I'm undistracted.  I'm not building Legos and texting.  I'm not walking behind my 2-year old on his tricycle and talking on my phone.  I feel most confident that I'm doing my job well when I don't have an iPhone in my hand.  But that's just me.}

Be with old people.

I get by with a little help from my friends -- especially the older ones.  I have a handful of ladies in my life whose children are grown, and spending time with these women gives me confidence (and refreshment!).  The little things that challenge me on a daily basis -- the temper tantrums, the ear infections, the potty training, the learning to read -- these things become so minor when I'm with moms who have already traveled that road. Being with older moms gives me perspective about my "problems."

When we only surround ourselves with moms who are in our same stage and phase, it's easy to become extra wrapped up in the minuscule things of the moment and miss the big picture.  It's hard to see the forest for the trees.  I'd encourage you to reach out to a few women you respect whose children are older than yours, even if it's just by a few years.  There's great confidence (and wisdom) to be found in spending time with people who have "been there, done that."

Take your job seriously.

Think of your job as a mom like it's a high ranking corporate position.  Asses your specific responsibilities and look at your daily flow.  Define your long range goals for your family and each child, and develop a strategy to reach them.  Evaluate strengths and weaknesses within each person in the "company" and determine how you can strengthen the weaknesses.  Consider what activities within the "organization" can be eliminated (or added) to create greater efficiency or enhance corporate culture.  Think like a CEO.

Reflect on the job you held before becoming a mom (or the job you currently hold).  If you weren't confident in your ability to complete a task, what did you do?  Feel sorry for yourself?  Lay your head on your desk and pout?  Decide your corporation was doomed?  Of course not!  You put on your thinking cap to solve the problem, and asked for help from a veteran.   Motherhood is no different.  Use your mind, be cognisant of which tasks deserve (and get) your attention, and make time to learn from those who have more experience than you.  Treating motherhood like a profession instead of just something you do every day is a great first step in becoming a more confident parent.

the reality of summer

Reposted from June, 2012

I strolled into summer break last June all dreamy eyed and blissful.  I could hardly wait for lazy days spent curled up in a hammock feeling the lake breeze blow across my tan skin -- kids snuggled at my feet, their noses in a Newberry Award Winning classic.  The cabinets were stocked with sunscreen and fresh Crayolas, and we were committed to absolutely nothing.  I had visions of lemonade stands, Lego towers, and lightening bugs.  Summer was going to be divine.

Then reality set in.

By day four, I'd heard "when is lunch" about 22 times.  Those new crayons hit the floor and most of them snapped in half (triggering tears from the 4-year old who knocked the box off the table).  Between the constant "can I watch a cartoon" and "do I have to make my bed," I was ready to sign them up for every camp in town by the end of week one.  Frustrated and frazzled, I had taken on the kind of attitude that I didn't want to rub off on anyone -- much less my kids -- and I was desperate for a solution that would help me make the most of these summer months with my three kids (then 6 and under).  Something had to change.

Thankfully I have a handful of very wise friends -- women with older kids (so they've weathered these years) -- and women with patience galore (which they swear is an acquired skill, not an innate trait, which gives me hope).  I picked up the phone one night last June, hopeful that the woman on the other end would offer to Email me her tried & true list of 200 things to do with kids during the summer months.  I sat at the kitchen table, the phone to my ear and a sharpened pencil in my hand, eager to hear what she had to say about how to manage these monkeys (and still manage to smile) from now until the end August.

As I had hoped, she had a solution, but it wasn't one that I expected to hear.

"Make a daily schedule."

Are you kidding me?  I had just changed my alarm clock setting from "wake" to "let me wake up on my own."  Besides, I wanted my kids to be free -- free to explore their world, to figure out how to manage boredom and find fun from sunup to sundown without adult direction.  To climb trees and shoot baskets and blow bubbles all day.

Then I felt that pang of desperation in my stomach, reminding me that my vision for summertime bliss hadn't exactly come to fruition this week.  I decided to give this schedule thing a fair shot.  She elaborated about the things she could remember doing with her kids when they were younger.  Their days seemed fun and balanced, but I was still skeptical; every hour was accounted for and it looked more like a busy businessman's calendar than summer vacation to me.  Nevertheless, I was willing.  Within 15 minutes we had created a working draft of my family's summer schedule.

I wrote this year's summer schedule this afternoon.  Before I share it (and before you scroll to the end to post a comment telling me that I'm a drill sergeant who is creating little Type-A monsters), here are the things you need to know:

* I write the schedule with the kids' help.  We start by brainstorming all of the things we need and want to do each day, then agree on a time slot for each item.

* the times are 100% fluid.  They're just a rough guideline.

* the schedule is null & void if we go on vacation.

* the schedule is posted on the fridge so they can all look at it whenever they need to.

* I see summer as a hugely wonderful time of year to teach my kids the skills and habits that are too tedious to teach them during the school year, so the schedule incorporates time for this.  Think home maintenance, basic housework, exploring the arts, and honing in on academic skills that need fine-tuning based on year-end report cards.

* we keep a summer journal to keep writing skills sharp (we write and illustrate between 2 sentences and 2 paragraphs per day, depending on the child's age and ability, using a composition book).

* we do workbooks and journals right after breakfast, when everyone is well-rested and cheerful.

* daily jobs change every week.  I picked 10 basic household chores (dusting, vacuuming, laundry, etc.) because there are 10 weeks in the summer.  At the beginning of each week the kids draw a chore from a jar and that's their assignment for the week.  This sort of rotation exposes them to several basic skills, something that will help them tremendously as adults.  Moreover, it enables them to be active helpers in our home, which I believe fosters a sense of belonging and value.

* the kids have never complained about this schedule, and I am 400 times less stressed than I was without it!

This isn't for everyone, and I know that.  I know that some of you think I'm a nut, and I confess that I take this off of my fridge and hide it in a drawer when certain people come over!  Some of you are endlessly patient and exceptionally calm, and friends, I admire you for this.  I want to be more like you.  But until then, this little tool helps me know that the fun and the chores -- the lemonade stands and the laundry -- will get done.  Eventually.  And I'll be content with the messes and OK with the chaos because these days -- these long summer days -- are being spent with the people I love (the people I cherish) in a way that's too deep to even describe.  Happy summer.

greek chicken pita sandwiches

This recipe makes enough to fill 6 pitas and is a snap to put together.  The chicken cooks for 4-6 hours in the crock pot, so all you have to do at meal time is dice the veggies and lay everything out.  

photo: simplyscratch.com

Greek Chicken Pita Sandwiches

(adapted from ldsliving.com)

· 1 medium onion, sliced

· 1 clove garlic, minced

· 1 lb. boneless, skinless chicken thighs

· 1½ teaspoons lemon pepper

· ½ teaspoon dried oregano

· ¼ teaspoon ground allspice

· 4 pita pocket breads

· ½ cup plain Greek yogurt

· 1 tomato, sliced

· ½ cup chopped cucumber

· 1 medium red bell pepper, sliced in thin strips

· kalamata olives

1. Place sliced onion on the bottom of your slow cooker.  Combing onion, garlic, lemon pepper, oregano, and allspice.  Coat chicken with seasoning and place chicken on top of onions.  Cover and cook on low for 4-6 hours.

2. Heat pita bread as directed on package (or run it through the toaster on warm a few times). Meanwhile, remove chicken from slow-cooker; place on cutting board. Using two forks, chop chicken.  Place on serving tray, leaving room for other toppings.

3. Whisk Greek yogurt into onion mixture in slow-cooker. 

4. Chop or dice veggies, crumble the feta cheese, pit the olives, and arrange on serving tray.  

5. Fill each pita to your liking, and top with yogurt mixture from the crock pot.

Serve with carrots (or pita chips) and hummus.

chicken enchiladas

My afternoons are probably a lot yours, a constant wave of motion that seem to be marked with a dozen or so components that range from soccer practice to fussy babies to math fact memorization.  As if the busy-ness isn't enough, these these little people (and their parents) must eat, which means we mommas have to cook!  That's the part that daunts me.   

For five years, I've been on a quest -- a quest to cook well and to cook smart.  I'm probably looking for the things that nearly every mom is looking for...non-mushy crock pot meals without condensed soups or MSG; meals that can be prepped at 1pm and cooked at 6pm; dinners that won't destroy my kitchen or my sanity or our checkbook; and meals that are nutritiously dense yet please little (and big) pallets alike.  

As I find recipes that fit the bill, I'll share them here -- starting with these enchiladas. They're not your sloppy, queso-cheese covered, greasy mess.  They're full of fiber, loaded with vegetables, and shockingly, my kids love them.  They're just as good cold as they are warm, and they reheat perfectly in your microwave.  

Chicken Enchiladas
Make 7 enchiladas
Cost for ingredients: about $14 ($2 per enchilada)

1 large onion
2 carrots 
3 stalks of celery
1 lb. boneless skinless chicken
32 oz. chicken broth
1 can Rotelle tomatoes (I use mild)
optional -- black beans, corn
1 tsp. cumin
1 tsp. coriander
enchilada sauce (I use mild)
2% shredded cheese of choice
10 whole wheat tortillas 

1.  Dice carrots, onion & celery and saute in a large pot until slightly softened.

2.  Add chicken broth and bring to a boil. 
3.  Add the chicken breasts, reduce heat to medium, and cook uncovered for 30 minutes.
4.  Remove chicken, shred with a fork, and add back to pot.  Add Rotel tomatoes, cumin & coriander.  Simmer for 30 minutes.  Add drained black beans and corn.

5.  Drain liquid from enchilada filling using a colander.  Top each tortilla with approximately 1/8 cup of filling, add desired amount of cheese & enchilada sauce, and fold like a burrito.

6.  Place completed enchiladas in a baking pan coated in cooking spray.  Top with additional sauce and cheese, and bake at 350 for approximately 30 minute or until cheese is melted.

8.  Serve immediately with blue corn chips & salsa -- or cool, cover & refrigerate.  These reheat in the microwave nicely, and are pretty delish served cold, too!

a lunchbox joke I just had to share

I started putting jokes in my kids' lunchboxes in the fall (and wrote a 31-day series about it).  Every so often I come across a joke that really cracks me up.  Hope it makes you smile, too.

if you're here via Pinterest, this will help

I ebb and flow in the blog world.  Some days I think blogging is such a neat creative outlet, and it excites me to write because I know that by writing I'm making myself think more critically about the topic at hand.  Since most of what I write about is home and family related, I see blogging as a form of teaching myself to do my job better.  Continuing education, if you will.

Other times though, I think blogging is ridiculous.  I'm not a brilliant writer, a fabulous chef, or an expert housekeeper.  I'm not an expert on anything, really -- so I often wonder why the heck I'm writing when I could be doing so many other things (like sleeping, since I write at night).  There are millions of mom blogs out there, and I regularly contemplate shutting this puppy down because I don't want to add to the blogosphere "noise."  But then I remember the stuff up there in that first paragraph.  I love the learning that comes with writing -- the fine tuning of my thoughts that comes along with thinking closely about bits and pieces of my role as a mom and a wife.

Anyway, in my "not-super-committed-to-blogging-but-still-blogging-anyway" way, I pinned a few things (I must've done this pinning on a "blogging is a good thing" day) -- but when I pinned them, I failed to use the full URL.  The links behind those images just take people to the home page (here) and not to the post they were hoping to find.  So, if you came here today from Pinterest, welcome -- and I'm sorry for my URL snag.  Below are a few of the most pinned posts; hopefully you'll find what you came for (and maybe even stick around for future posts, too).

The Reality of Summer (contains summer schedule)

Lunchbox Jokes (31 day series)

Great Gifts (suggestions for birth - age 5)

Summer Fun (fun ideas for keeping kiddos busy during summer break)

Hung Up (what happened when I quit talking on my phone in the car)

Sneaky Snacking (recipe for Peanut Butter Protein Balls)

Homekeeping Checklist (printable daily and quarterly cleaning schedule)

Choose Your Own Adventure and 31 Days of Praying for Your Kids (my favorite posts to date)

good bits

I've found this strange sense of satisfaction in the current demands of life with such a large family -- a family that's literally twice the size of what I ever imagined I'd have.  My, what a joyous surprise this has been.  The chaos and the clamour that comes with a house full of little kids has been a perspective-gaining, heart-expanding, Type-A-no-longer type of experience.  Pure goodness.

To that end, blogging has certainly taken a backseat to sleep.  But I've been snacking on lots of good reads and resources that I wanted to share with you in today's brief, catch-up style post.

Good read: Femina Girls.  Generally well-written posts anchored in Biblical truth, sprinkled with bits of humor and large doses of practical wisdom.  Here's a current goodie that I especially liked.

Good tip:  My "At Least" list.  I used to be a super organized nut and live by this chart.  No longer, my friends.  These days, I write an "at least" list every night before bed.  It's a list of the things I "at least" need to do the next day to keep the wheels turning around here.  Writing tomorrow's list before bed each night lets me download that day's events and look to the next day to see what's really necessary.

Good eats:  I'm bordering on obsessed with this Pasta Fagioli Soup.  Try it for yourself.  Prepare to feel the urge to make copious amounts of it.  Don't worry,  you can give in to the urge; the soup freezes well.

1 lb. lean ground beef

1 C onion, diced

1 large carrot, julienned (or a handful of matchstick carrots)

1 C celery, diced (3 stalks)

2 cloves garlic, minced (or jarred equivalent)

2 - 14 1/2 ounce cans petite diced tomato

15 oz. red kidney beans (drained)

15 oz. great northern beans (drained)

15 oz. can tomato sauce

12 oz. V-8

1 T white vinegar

1 tsp oregano

1 tsp basil

1 1/2 tsp salt

1/2 tsp pepper

1/2 tsp thyme

1/2 lb. Diatlini pasta

Brown ground beef; drain.  Add onion, garlic, carrot and celery; simmer 10 minute or until veggies are softened.

Add remaining ingredients (except pasta).  Simmer 1 hour.

Cook pasta to al dente; add to soup and serve.  Top with Parmesan cheese.

Good buys: Remember water color painting books -- the kind with the paint already on the page that magically appears when water hits it?  My two-year old loves them.  Joy to the world, I can now fold laundry without his sweet little hands unfolding every piece I stack.  Amazon has a good selection.

Good gifts: Cutest party favor we've ever received.  Check these out.

when less is more

Modern day society promotes the idea that more is better, but in the eyes of a small child, "more" can spell frustration.

Lately, our 2 1/2 year old has become king of throwing trains, kicking blocks, and dropping handfuls of markers on the floor.  While I could easily chalk these behaviors up to "new baby-itis," I think it's more a result of my giving him too many choices at playtime.  

The train set he uses (originally owned by big brother) consists of a jumbo-sized basket loaded with locomotives, freight cars, street signs, and curving tracks.  The marker box -- big sister's crown glory -- totes every shade of Crayola invented in a variety of widths.  

After a few days of constant train-tossing and marker dropping (and gazillions of temper tantrums), I took all but a few items away from him -- mostly because I was exhausted by the necessary discipline for his misbehavior.  I was amazed to observe that when he had fewer toys, the temper tantrums stopped AND he played peacefully for long periods of time!  Seems that what Mr. Two actually needed for peaceful play wasn't the complete train set, but rather 3 or 4 train cars to push around a simple oval track.  He didn't need the entire art kit; he simply needed a marker or two and a sheet of plain white paper.  When I was plopping that big box of art supplies in front of him, he likely felt the same way you and I do when we leave the mall on a Saturday afternoon during Christmastime -- overwhelmed and aggravated due to sensory overload.

When our young kids show signs of boredom or frustration with the toys they have, it's tempting to buy something new to keep them busy.  Next time this happens, try paring down the number of toys they have access to before you desperately swing into Target.  You might be surprised to discover that less is more.

Going it with you,

Kristen

it's time to play

I picked my first word of the year in 2002 and have done so almost every year since.  The word I pick embodies an action, trait, or idea of what I want to do, be, or think more about in the coming 12 months.  

This year, it's play.

A brief aside: I'm not a playful person by nature.  I'm a worker bee.  I love projects, checklists, and completing tangible tasks, even if that means sorting Matchbox cars from Crayola markers when they're all in the same toybox.  Have I always been this way?  Yes.  When I was 5, I had regular lemonade stands.  When I was 13, I opened a lawn mowing business.  A good project keeps my blood pumping.

I still didn't have my word for 2013 when I woke up last Friday morning.  That day, though, our oldest son (who's 8) took off on his bike on his own for the first time.  We gave him a walkie talkie to keep in touch, and he ended up playing with neighborhood friends 'til dusk.  That night, he bounded through the back door, hair dripping with perspiration, grin stretching from ear to ear with pride, and my heart did a little somersault because I could see that my boy was turning into a big kid.  In that moment, it became staggeringly obvious to me that even though these days are exhaustingly long, these four little kids of ours won't be little forever.  They won't want to stack wooden blocks and build forts out of bedsheets forever.  I won't always be stepping on board books or Lego men, and all of these Crayola makers will soon be replaced with highlighters and graphing calculators.

And through this metamorphosis that's on my not-as-distant-as-I-once-thought horizon, as they're discovering who they are, my children are also forming a very vivid mental image of who I am -- what kind of mom their mom is.  This subconsciously created image will consist of a compilation of my attitudes and behaviors from their growing-up years.  Their memories will eventually contain a very static idea of who I was as a mom, and they'll refer to that depiction -- my "reputation," if you will -- for the rest of their lives.  The expressions I made.  The sound of my voice.  My posture.  My eyes.  What got my attention.  What I did with my spare time.  How present I was when we were together.

I want them to look back on their childhood and remember me as being playful.  As saying yes when they asked me to throw the football.  Saying yes when they wanted to go for a bike ride.  Saying yes when they wanted me to play Legos or draw a butterfly or read a story out loud.  It's so tempting to say "I'll be right there when I finish the laundry," or "I'll play dolls after I make this phone call," because there's always stuff to do.  We all have mountains of laundry and dirty dishes and calls to return.  But when my big kid took off on his bike and bid me farewell last Friday, it hit me like a ton of bricks that the time to play is now -- because these little kid days really do pass. ('Seems those well-meaning old ladies in the grocery store who come up to us and say "enjoy this, it goes so quickly" are actually telling the truth.)

So this year, I will play.  

I'll roll more cars and even make some sound effects.
I'll shoot more hoops and play more board games and pull more wagons.

I'll paint more pictures
and build more train tracks
 and jump off the dock into the lake
even though I can't stand the way the weeds feel on my feet.  Eew.

If I had my child to raise all over again,
I'd build self-esteem first, and the house later.
I'd finger-paint more, and point the finger less.
I would do less correcting and more connecting.
I'd take my eyes off my watch, and watch with my eyes.
I'd take more hikes and fly more kites.
I'd stop playing serious, and seriously play.
Diane Loomans, from "If I Had My Child To Raise Over Again"

for moms: 10 resolutions worth making

Every January, when high school started back after Christmas break, the talk at the lunch table was about New Year's Resolutions.  The party crowd vowed to party more, the studious ones pledged to make even higher grades, and I remember feeling ever-so-crafty when I'd chime in with, "I resolve to not make a resolution."  So poetic, huh?

Fifteen years and four kids later, I've changed my tune (and dropped that dorky catchphrase).  As an adult -- and as a mom -- I really look forward to making New Year's Resolutions.  January 1 is the grown-up version of the first day of school: a clean slate.  A time to pause and think about the wife and mom and woman I want to be, a time to check my compass to make sure I'm headed in the right direction.

If you're looking for something beyond the typical "drop 10 pounds" or "exercise more often" resolutions, here are 10 resolutions for moms that I think are worth making.  See if you agree.

1.  Resolve to wake up 45 minutes (or an hour?) before your kids do.  Shower.  Make the coffee.  Read something encouraging.  Let yourself fully wake up before the day comes at you.  You wouldn't sprint into a business meeting after everyone else was seated and flop into your conference room chair all disheveled and disorganized, so why would you wake up at the same time as your kids?

2.  Read out loud to your kids at bedtime, even if they're able to read alone.  Pick a classic and read a chapter a night or have some fun and pull out the nursery rhymes, which I fear are totally going by the wayside in exchange for modern-day fiction like "Captain Underpants."

3.  Give up your cell phone when your kids are in the car.  Be fully available to them, even if that means you're just sitting there in silence.

4.  Don't buy food you don't want your kids to eat.  If it causes a battle, makes them beg, or causes them to act like circus clowns, leave it on the grocery store shelf.

5.  Resolve to give your children the gift of (eventual) self-sufficiency by teaching them how to help around the house.  Be warned: they will mess up.  Broken dishes are a sure-thing when they learn to load the dishwasher.  Half-washed, streaked windows will be the norm for a while when they first tackle window washing.  It's OK.  Be glad they're learning.  I try to remember that we're here to grow them into independent adults, and part of this is teaching them how to do basic household chores.

6.  Give up one website that sucks your time and adds nothing to your brain.  For me, there are two: People.com and Tmz.com  Why do I read this trash?  Not proud.

7.  Play music.  Music is the ultimate mood enhancer: it changes my attitude, my behavior, and that of everyone under our roof.  The kids will craft, study, sing, and even just lay on the floor and daydream when I turn on the iPod.  Resolve to fill your home with good music.   Maybe I'll post some playlists.  If you don't know where to start, try downloading something by "All Sons & Daughters."

8.  Stand up straight.  Somehow having babies and slouching came as a package deal for me.

9.  Resolve to never speak ill of your husband to anyone.  Not even in jest.  Ever.  There's no upside.

10.  And finally, resolve to make a prayer schedule for your kids and family.  I feel lost as a mom about 90% of the time.  Am I doing this right?  Am I loving them enough in the way they need to be loved?  Giving them too much attention or not enough?  Disciplining too much or too little?  I fall into bed at the end of most days, my head spinning as I recap all of their needs -- the physical ones, plus the spiritual, emotional, and academic ones too.  It's overwhelming at times.

In the New Year I'm taking on a prayer schedule for my family: each child gets an assigned day where I pray for them and their many (constantly changing) needs.  All four kids are so different, and the only hope I have for keeping it all straight will come from asking God to show me exactly what their needs are, and then praying that He'd equip me with the skills I'd need to parent them in such a way.  (They'll get four days, and the other three days of the week will go to my husband, our home, and our extended family.)

No matter what you resolve (even if it's resolving not to make a resolution!), may 2013 overflow with joy and blessings for you and yours.  Happy New Year!