Every Girl. Everyday. Period.

https://www.daysforgirls.org/

What if not having sanitary supplies kept you isolated during menstruation?    DAYS without school. DAYS without income. No leaving your room... for DAYS. It happens worldwide to women in impoverished communities. Girls miss up to 3 months of school in just 1 year. Girls use leaves, mattress stuffing, newspaper, corn husks, rocks, anything they can find... all to try to stay in school. Worse, girls are often exploited in exchange for hygiene.  It turns out this issue is one of the keys to social change. It's hard to imagine, but true for women all over the world. 

When a girl has access to feminine hygiene she can change her world:

*She is more likely to stay in school

*She has more confidence

*She has more health knowledge

*She will speak up for herself and others

*Her future income will be greater and so will her country's GNP

*She will contribute to her community

*Her children and peers are more likely to do so as well.

This is why DFG matters

  

This is the kit we created

For my Young Mother service project, I joined with the team at Days for Girls (DFG) to create feminine hygiene kits.  It's a simple step that makes a big difference.  I presented this idea to my friends Melanie and Bekah.  (They both have amazing sewing talents and did much of the difficult work.)  We organized several different service events with the teenage young women from our church and their mothers and wonderful leaders.

We created about 100 sanitary napkins, 30 carry bags, and 10 complete kits.  The items were shipped to our local DFG chapter where they can be distributed to 22 different nations in third world countries.  Volunteers will deliver these supplies to women in needy communities and train others to teach about health, hygiene and how to make their own supplies.

The most rewarding part of the project for me was watching the young women grasp the significance of the service they were giving. The thoughts of struggling through each period without the help of sanitary supplies opened their eyes to a harsher world and they left with a new-found appreciation of some things we usually take for granted. They also realized that they were changing the world one girl at a time.

A video that I love that gives the big picture of why it's so important to help girls:

The Annoying Thing About Motherhood

Yes, we always try to read in our Sunday best...just kidding.  (photog:  Tasha Nicholls)

I have awesome kids.  I love them.  I am passionately interested in everything they do.  From lofty accomplishments to those moments of victory when potty training.  But there is one thing about motherhood that really irritates me.  I find the constant work of it to be at exact odds with the joy.  Keeping that balance between all the things I have to do to keep my family fed, in clean clothes, and a reasonably tidy house compete with beautiful connections to my family in a deeper, spiritual, eternal way.  The nagging of life pulls at my contented bliss.

I have a volume of scripture that I bought a few years ago.  It was beautiful and expensive.  I wanted to cherish it.  From it's glossy pages my children would learn it's truths.  I carefully read from it every day.  My children read from it.  We would prop it up in a cookbook holder at the breakfast table to read while finishing a meal, we would pass it around in the evenings while we sat on the couch and read.  I would pack it in my suitcase on trips and we would read in hotel rooms and beach houses.  By the time we finished for the first time (and that took longer than I want to admit), it was pretty beat up.  The binding had started to come loose, there were a few sticky pages from unwashed hands taking a turn reading, and the cover was scratched from all the travel.  I remember feeling very discouraged that my lovely volume was now like everything else in my life; once pristine and perfect, now worn and tattered.

This phenomenon carries over into the lovely things for my home, my once new smelling car, and even my aging body.  I try so hard every day to keep things nice and every day they seem to deteriorate into chaos.  As I looked at the book I contemplated what it was good for now.  I didn't dare put it on my bookshelf next to all the lovely books anymore.  It would only highlight how I had failed take good care of it.

Then it struck me.  The point of reading the book every day wasn't to keep the book beautiful, it was to get the book inside my kids.  To make it's teachings a part of them.  If it looked as if it had been a bit chewed and digested, then maybe that was the point.  I wanted them to internalize what it was teaching.  I wanted it to be a part of them.  Motherhood isn't about keeping things perfect, it's about working every day towards a perfection that exists on the inside.  It's about using things as stepping stones for the growth and development of these precious spirits that I have been blessed to teach.  With the wisdom of a mother I choose the beauty that is growing on the inside of my children over the appearance of perfection in our routines.

The book doesn't sit on the shelf with all the other leather-bound books now.  Instead, it is the focal point of the family room and we still try to read from it every day.  It no longer mocks my inability to keep things beautiful, but serves as a monument and reminder for the important and slightly messy job of motherhood.

Appreciation: Tough Teacher

Well...it's finally here...tomorrow is the last day of school. I always face this day with mixed emotions. The overpowering emotion is “Yay, we can sleep in!”. But underneath is a sadness that my kids are getting older. Another year is gone. They are growing up so fast and learning so much. Am I teaching them and enjoying them as much as I can? Alongside these ambivalent feelings, I have a deep gratitude for what their teachers have contributed to their growth this year.

Luke and his teacher.

After a year of reminding Luke to be “much neater” his cursive is (finally) legible. When I took this picture, Luke said: “Hey, when you kneel down I'm taller than you” to which his teacher replied, “I'm still tougher.” :)

We have been blessed with devoted teachers. I can honestly say that I appreciate every teacher my children have had. It's not just that I appreciate the break from my sweet children for hours on end (although, I do appreciate that). I feel like my children are learning and growing under their leadership. I love watching my third grader name all the bridges in Portland and then give an explanation of truss engineering and counterweights. I love to hear my kindergartener explain what oviparous animals are and then try to trick me with her superior knowledge of hatching baby chicks. My fifth grader can show me his power point presentation about the Revolutionary War and then explain how it's similar to the 2011 revolution in Egypt. Teachers invest their time and energy into opening up the world for my children. They are guides on a voyage of discovery and I am grateful for their partnership.

Now it's my turn...I always think of Mom as the most important teacher. There is much work to be done. My classroom is the home, the neighborhood, and the beach. I plan to encourage summer reading, work on a few math skills (thank you Khan Academy), and enjoy my conversations with these lovely little people. Thanks for the great year, teachers. Happy summer to all!

Bedtime Stories

“You may have tangible wealth untold;

Caskets of jewels and coffers of gold.

Richer than I you will never be--

I had a mother who read to me.” 

 --Strickland W. Gillan

 

I'm a big believer in the nurturing value of bedtime stories. I can still remember the cozy feeling of being snuggled next to my own mother as she read aloud to me. I know this is where I learned to love reading. It's an official part of our bedtime routine. It's a great way to help the kids relax and settle down. I started when they were young with baby books and now we mostly read chapter books. I have covered thousands of pages across many genres. I had one embarrassing moment at the library when I was told the limit was 100 books and I need to put some back. I think it has helped with their schooling. One of these days I will share some of my favorite children's books. But mostly, I do it because I feel like they are tucked in with love every night when we connect at the end of a day by sharing a story.

A Letter to my Mother

Dear Mom:

I just wanted to tell you I miss you. I miss calling you and getting the
recipe for the ham and cheese casserole. I miss seeing your smiling face
when I would come over to visit you. People from your book groups still
tell me how much they miss your insights and wisdom. People at church tell
me they miss seeing you every week.

Most of all, Dad misses you. He has been a crying mess since you left. He
cries whenever your name comes up. This from a tough businessman Dad who
never used to cry. I asked Dad recently what he enjoys doing the most. With
teary eyes, he said, "Thinking about Mom." Now that Dad is on his own
deathbed, he has seemed more peaceful. I think he is looking forward to
seeing someone he has loved and been married to for 48 years now. He was a
wreck last year celebrating your anniversary without you.

You were always there for me at basketball, football games, choir concerts,
etc. I remember being 13 and thinking, "I have the coolest Mom in the
world! She is a sports nut! She loves going to football, baseball and
basketball games and she even watches them on TV sometimes!" When I got to
be 19 and in college out of state, I remember asking you about the Blazers.
You had no clue how they were doing and then it all hit me like a ton of
bricks. You cared about sports as much as I care about playing dolls with
my daughters. But if you ask me the names of my daughters' dolls, I could
tell you every one of them. I'm sure you are proud of me.

I remember holding your hand on your deathbed last year and looking at your
angelic face. I thanked you for always being there for me and I spent about
an hour telling you how much your presence and support meant over the
years. You were a stay at home Mom and all you cared about was our family.
I didn't know it at the time, but I always had my own one person fan club.

The fascinating thing to me is that you treated all nine of us like we were
always the special one. I always got all the attention from you that I
needed. On the day you died, my brother Bill said that he thought he was
always your favorite son. Then my brother Rob corrected him and said he
thought he was your favorite. Then we figured out that you loved all of us
the "most" in an unconditional way.

I miss that my children will never really know you. Little Jessie is three
now and when we drove by the hospital last week that you died at, she said,
"That's where Grandma Judy lives." I am sad that you won't be able to teach
any of my children how to play the piano. I'm sad that you won't be able to
come to my kids' schools on "Grandparents Day." But I will be always be
able to tell my girls how much Grandma Judy loved seeing them.

As you know, Amanda (my wife) will be having our third next month. We're
having a boy this time. I'm sure that you know him well and that this baby
will let us know how much you love and miss us.

Mom, carrying your casket up that hill on that rainy windy day last year
was so ironic. Here were these seven large (we're all between 6' and 6'4)
grown men carrying the casket of their beloved Mother. After all, it was
you who first carried each of us and then carried us so many times
throughout our lives.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom.

Love, your son, Craig

*This was a letter my husband, Craig, wrote in May 2001 for a contest on the radio.  His mother had died 2 years earlier of breast cancer.  He won front row tickets to a concert at the Rose Garden...I can't even remember who the singer was.  I was 8 months pregnant, so I guess my brain wasn't fully functioning.  Judy has been gone for 12 years and we still miss her. 

Kids Doing Housework = Harder than it Sounds

Need help with housework?  Check this out...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8uU3gsSW4EI&feature=share&fb_source=message

Another excellent resource for ideas:

powerofmoms.com

She set the table all by herself. :)

Inspiration

Does what we look at really matter? Do the images our children see affect who they are? I think so.

A few years ago, when my oldest started middle school, I felt like she was growing up fast. In a good way, but it was still scary for Mom. I wanted to be there and remind her of who she is and the potential she has for good. But I couldn't be there all the time. I decided some inspiration was needed.

Together, we started collecting little encouraging sayings, and handouts and even kind notes from her friends into a wall collage above her bed. She was totally on board with the project. I don't know what the measurable effect is for encouragement. But I do know it makes a powerful visual statement when her friends come over and see her walls. It's a lot of little reminders of what being an awesome teenager looks like...and she is awesome.