Archive for Childhood

Parenting 1-Oh-None

I love being a mom. Like, love-love-love it! I think it’s fun. And scary. But mostly fun. I’ve done some pretty cool and smart things as a mom. (it’s ok to admit that, isn’t it?) I’ve also done some pretty dumb things, too. Perhaps admitting that I’m sometimes a cool and smart mom is one of them. ;)

I’ve learned a lot as a parent. And I’ve learned a whole lot of what-not-to-do’s & what not to assume.

So, I thought I’d put together a little list I’m calling,

“Parenting 1-Oh-None” – What I’ve learned not to do in my 19 years of miraculously keeping two kids fairly unscathed.

 

*Don’t. Blink. If you do they will grow up before you open your eyes again.

*Don’t be too hard on yourself. You’re not perfect. And that’s okay. If we all were perfect parents then we’d have millions of Justin Biebers walking around. I KID I KID I KID.

*Don’t encourage them to lie. We all do, or have done, this. Ex: I walked by Kassidi’s room when she was 3 years old and saw her jumping on her bed. I continued to walk on but asked her, “You’re not jumping on your bed, are you?” Her answer…”Nope!” And she stopped jumping on her bed. You see what I did, tho? I encouraged her to lie. She knew she was jumping on the bed and she knew I saw her. But in that, seemingly, innocent question – I gave her permission to lie and get away with not having to deal with the consequence of doing something she knew she wasn’t supposed to do. Mama fail.

*Don’t take the easy way out. Above is a great example. What I should’ve done was invested the time Kass was worth having. Putting the linens away should not have taken precedence over a teachable moment. (Although I, myself, learned something from it) But this is our children’s character we’re talking about. They are worth way more time than we share with them.

*Don’t think that your days of going to the bathroom alone are over just because they become teens. Until they move away your bathroom will always be an open invitation.

*Don’t make every. single. “oops”. a long. drawn. out. speech. There are times their little butts warrant a fair dose of reality and a stern, long, talkin’ to, yes. But not every time. Say what you need to say in the first several seconds otherwise you will lose their attention. Make your words count. And get on eye level – speak softly – and demand they repeat back to you what you’ve told them. And then move on.

*Don’t neglect setting boundaries. It’s easy to buy into the “they need to have the freedom to express themselves in any way they can” line. Wellll…not at the cost of being unruly, disrespectful and down-right ugly to be around. Kids want boundaries. I mean, they’re not marching out the womb requesting them. And they sure the heck aren’t going to remind you to set them. But they want them. They need them. They feel safer knowing they have boundaries and where those boundaries are. There is freedom in knowing what you can and can’t do. It takes the guess-work and anxiety out of their making choices. Children who know their boundaries are, generally, calmer and compliant. It’s also a great accountability tool. When they cross the known line they’ve no one to blame but themselves.

*Don’t assume your kids know you’re sorry. Actually say it! When you’re reactionary and fly off the handle…own it and ask forgiveness. HUGE life lesson there for you AND your kids.

*Don’t forget that your child is different than you. They will have different passions, interests, behaviors and personalities. We can’t mold them into mini-me’s – but we can help mold them into the unique people they were created to be.

*Don’t go it alone. It really does take a village. Find your village! Whether you have a spouse who helps – a spouse who doesn’t help - or you’re a single parent – an adoptive parent – whatever, find fellow parents and families that you can learn from, confide in and do life with. You’ll either learn more of what to do or what not to do. Either way you’re learning.

*Don’t pass on celebrating the little things. There are huge achievements in a child’s life, like – spelling b’s – sporting wins – acing the math test – not peeing the bed. And there are also the ‘little’ things that all too often go unnoticed. When little Jimmy throws away his own capri-sun pouch without being asked…thank him.  When Susie waits patiently beside you while you’re talking to your friend and she doesn’t interrupt you…tell her you appreciated that later. Here’s the thing – if we only celebrate the big moments then we are telling our children that to get our attention and approval they always have to do big things. It’s equally the little things throughout their lives that shape their character and form disciplines and healthy habits. Make sure they know you notice those, too.

*Don’t forget to LAUGH with them!

Alright. These are just a very few of my thoughts and life-lessons as a parent. And I could’ve easily made this a “What to DO” post in place of a “DON’T” post but I just loved my “1-Oh-None” idea I had last night. So, there.

What parenting lessons have you learned that I can learn from?

He kept his promise

In 2007 he promised to always love me. Hug me in public. Tell me I’m pretty. And always be there for me…

 

 

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2013. He has kept his promise.

I love you, son.

Freezing Time

Wednesday night Brent and I spent the evening with some friends watching their son play baseball. This little 3rd grader and his teammates were so adorable on the field! I couldn’t take my eyes off of them for one second.

I found myself drifting back in time when my own children were that age. I had to fight back the tears several times as I sat there longing for those moments to return.

Every stage with my kids have been my favorite! But when I saw all those little guys running around so awkwardly with half their teeth, playing in the dirt and picking their noses without concern of being watched, I began longing to go back in time.

It went so fast. One second my littles were begging me to take them to Sonic for a treat. Now, my littles drive me to Sonic for a treat.

Even though I do miss their younger days; I do love so much about their older teen days. I truly am soaking it all in!

All this to say…Moms and Dads, breathe in every moment with your children. Document them all. Dig in. Make memories with them. Be a child with them. Throw mini marshmellows up into the ceiling fan that’s set on high. Be spontaneous. Laugh. Laugh a lot.

Dads, court your daughters. Treat them the way you want a young man to treat them. And treat her mother like that, too.

Moms, have your son take you on a date and show him the proper ways to treat a lady.

Love, struggle, forgive, stretch, confess, dream, pray, play, take risks as a family.

Be their parent over being their best friend and in doing so, I believe, you are being their best friend.

Are you a mom or dad of young children? How do you soak in the moments?

Are you a mom or dad of older children? What advice do you have to parents of young children?

 

 

 

My 6th Grade Year Elective Class That Nearly Killed Me!

At the time it was the largest Jr High School in the country. Southgate Jr High. I was in the 6th grade and had 7 classes. School began at 7:40 and let out and 3:45. The school was two stories. It had a pool and a garden. It was ridiculously big and daunting for a shy little 11 year old like me.

I was way out of my comfort zone. I was a kid that was easily stressed and even more easily perplexed and exasperated. It didn’t take much to fluster me. That is still, too often, true. This school was so big that students were assigned more than one locker depending on the location of each class. I had so many classes at opposite ends that I was given three lockers.

So, to break it down… 11 years old, 7 classes, 3 lockers AND combinations, long hours and I hated it. Until I learned I could pick one class for myself. 6 were assigned to me but one was all mine!!

There was dance class but I am a hopeless white girl with no ability to move rhythmically in any way shape or form. There was painting…I thought that might be fun but I didn’t want to get paint on me. There was also gardening but I didn’t like worms…or dirt. Then, I saw it. It jumped off the page and hit me upside the head and screamed…PICKE ME! PICK ME! So, I did.

Shop Class.

THAT I can do. I mean, I’m a girl. That’s a no brainer. Of course I can shop! They actually teach this??

The next school day I am ready for my classes. My elective is the last period. I’m so excited I can’t even concentrate in any other class. Teach me the ways of shopping, please!

Finally it comes. 7th period. I walk in to Shop Class. I pause. I tilt my head. I look around. I must be in the wrong class. I take a whiff…it smells. It smells like oil and glue. And there is lumber, bolts, hammers, rope and my teacher is a guy. An old, balding guy with greasy hands. I look around more and all I see are boys. Not only are they gross, they smell too.

I quickly realize I’ve made a mistake. I panic and try to conjure up some kind of scheme to get out of this. I got it!

Excuse me? Teacher? I’m sorry. But I can’t stay in this class. I have sinuses.

Ok. I actually had terrible, chronic, sinus infections as a child but had no idea that is what they were called.

He replies…I have sinuses too. Sit down.

I sat. Then, I cried. I couldn’t stop. The panic got the best of me. And Mr. Teacher panicked too. He walked over to my desk and handed me a pass to the guidance office to get transfered to a new class.

I wanted to hug him but his flannel was filthy. So I smiled and ran. I ran as fast I could.

I ended up in Home Ec that day and learned how to thread a needle. I can sew a button on a pair of jeans like no one’s business!

 

What’s your most embarrassing school moment?

Holding Irony In My Hands

Having set a personal goal this week to write a post each day, I have been pondering much over the content I’d like to share. And I have figured out tonight’s post. Though I am sharing this post it truly is more for me than for you.

Yesterday I decided to admit that I am good at something. That post was for me. And it was very therapeutic.

Tonight’s post kinda took me by surprise. It has strange irony written all through it. And I’ve decided to be okay with it.

I stated yesterday that my strength is being a mom. Raising my kids. And that I love any opportunity to offer advice to other parents.

I have a genuine concern for women who become mom’s with having an abortion in their past. I wonder if ministering to them, or counseling/guiding, is in my future. Then I think…That’s absurd! How can I toss two little lives away so flippantly then stand on a “I’m a great mom and you should listen to me.” platform?

Well, I can because I’ve been there. I’ve lived it. I can not tell you how to build a Sky-Scraper because I am not an architect. I can not advise you in what tax credits to take because I am not a CPA. But I can walk you through the pain of having made some of the worst decisions in life. I can help you navigate through your guilt to find where your strength has been hiding. I can because I have walked it too.

My story, my part of history, began the second I was conceived. But my platform began the day I was abused as a child and broadened the day I took the life of one.

So where’s the irony? It is in my past and present marrying one another building my platform. It is the picture of in one hand there holds a scared little girl turned selfish young lady snuffing out babies lives and in the other hand a woman reconciling herself to that choosing to recover, forgive and rebuild. These hands have gripped each other having finally chosen to work together. Hand in hand they are penning a new story. Hopefully extending hope to anyone who needs it.

I hope to become a speaker some day. This is the first time I have ever communicated that. But ever since I was a little girl I saw myself speaking to crowds. It has been a vision in the back of my mind and the front of my heart my whole life. I think I finally know why now…

 

I’m Good At Something!

It’s okay to admit when you know you do something well, right? I mean, is it really arrogant? Prideful? Perhaps those are simply results of the delivery of such knowledge.

Hmmm…

At any rate – this afternoon I hung out with my kids. Uninterrupted, just the three of us. We ate together. We drove around together. We ran errands together. We watched TV together.

We were together.

And in our time together we had some deep conversation and not so deep chat. And, of course, we laughed. A lot. It seems it’s what we Hodge’s do best.

It was today that I decided I would confess what I’ve known in my heart for quite some time…

I’m a pretty darn good mom.

There. I said it.

I know, I know. Let others tell you you’re good at something. And they have. But I’ve never admitted it.

Think me arrogant or conceited but the proof is in the kiddos goshdarnit ;) I mean, seriously I am so proud of Kass and Kota. I love that I enjoy being with them and they enjoy being with me.

And believe me when I say this – While I was still grieving and beating myself up after my abortions I didn’t think I’d ever be a mom. I wanted to but figured I would be punished for my choices and not be able to have children. And if being a mom actually was going to be in my future I knew for certain I would be terrible at it. These thoughts were driven by guilt and fear, of course.

But I’ve been a mom now for almost 18 years. And today I decided I would admit that I have done a good job.

Perfect? Not a chance. The best I know how? Absolutely.

I’m a good mom. And it feels good to say it out loud. No shame.

It feels good to know you do something well. And it’s okay to admit it. Flaunt it? Nope. Share it? Yes!

I have a few other strengths but this strength I am genuinely happy about. And I want to share it. I want to be here for advice, or a sounding board, for other parents.

Personally, I love learning from other peoples strengths. It inspires me and encourages me to grow and take risks.

Being a good mom is something, I believe, I do well. So, yay. And, yes, they have a pretty awesome dad, too.

Would you find it difficult to confess, in writing here, something you know you do well? Can you do it without feeling weird or fearful of what other people may think of your declaration?

Would you be willing to share it?

I won’t judge you and either will anyone else here. So, knock yourself out and reveal something that maybe another may need to see or know about you and learn from.

Go ahead!

 

3rd Annual Fort Building Contest!

Yes, you read right. We’re having a Fort Building Contest. This will be our 3rd one! Actually, I skipped hosting one last year…ya know, it was kinda busy ;)

But it’s back now! And I’m ready to watch all my competitive friends battle this out.

I picked this time of year cuz everyone tells me February’s gonna get cold. So why not build a cozy fort you can hang and snuggle in.

There are just a few guidelines you must follow…

1- Your fort must be made indoors.

2- All the items used must be from your house and be reusable.

3- No purchasing items just for the fort.

4- Involve your family! Tap into your inner-child – involve your children if you’ve got’em, or, your neighbors children. Just make sure you know them and have permission to take them.

5- Submit your entry by pictures or video, via your blog or link to youtube or vimeo, by March 1st. I will provide a one-stop fort submission hub.

Most of all…HAVE FUN! 

And, yes, a winner will be chosen! This year will be the first time the winner actually gets a prize. They’ll get to choose from one of the following…

1- $20.00 Starbucks Gift Card

2- $20.00 iTunes Card

3- $20.00 Amazon Gift Card

Here are our two past winners:

Russ Hutto (unfortunately this video has been deleted but his post is amazing and he also lists all items used in the fort, w/pics)

The Rainey Fort

So, y’all in??

Lemme know!

Our last fort

 

Let It Go…And Live

 

I remember the days when I hid. The days when I woke up each morning and the first thing that came to mind would be my bag of secrets. I would slowly get out of bed, grab that bag of secrets, throw it over my shoulder and carry it around all day long. Allowing it to dig into my flesh causing pain, day after day.

It was my way of life. My normal.

This weekend Pete spoke a challenging word to many! Right out the gates he gave us this truth…

If we don’t learn to transform the pain, we’ll just transfer it.

 

Ok. Yes! This couldn’t be more true than truth itself. That was me. I transfered for years! I lied, misled, used, pretended, acted out, used drugs, invited an eating disorder, manipulated the ones I loved and betrayed peoples trust. All because I chose not to come clean.

The very second Pete shared those words my heart began grieving for all those who live under the weight of secrets and pain…no matter what the source.

I still have to work on letting things go. There are self-centered uglies splashed all over me. This weekend I was lovingly, but firmly, reminded to come clean. Come clean with God…Come clean with my loved ones.

Replace Concealment with Confession.

I just want to encourage all of you to find people you can trust to share the weight of your heart with. Most likely, they’re right under your nose. It’s been my experience that hidden secrets fosters a facade that acts as a flame that ultimately burns bridges. It’s just not worth it. Let it go….and live like you were meant to.

That is all.

Thoughts? Confessions?

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Discovering My Platform

Most of you know my story. You know about my first marriage that ended in a tragic suicide. You know about my postpartum depression after my children were born. You know about the sexual abuse endured as a child. You know about the physical abuse. The drugs. The alcohol. And, you know about the abortions…the topic that is closest to my heart. But, what you may not know is that I am not anti-abortion.

That is not my platform.

Yes…abortion is a terrible, cruel, form of birth-control. And that is exactly what I used it for…out of fear. I do not condone abortion. Not one bit. Please understand that.

But, the more I dig into writing my book, the more I connect with my hearts cry. And my hearts cry, the one thing that weighs on it the most, is people who live under the weight of sin when they need not to.

I lived so many years truly repentant of my choices yet unable to receive the forgiveness of my forgiving God. How that must grieve our Fathers heart.

Knowing that so many live under that same kind of weight truly grieves my heart, too.

We all make bad choices. It’s our nature. But often times it isn’t about the bad choices we make…it’s about how we let those choices make us. We end up living under guilt, shame, fear, low self-esteem, low self-worth and allowing our poor choices to dictate our character and who we become, ultimately, devaluing the person we were created to be.

Friends, this is no good. We were meant for more than this. And until we believe that, truly believe that, we will continue to shrink back behind poor decisions we’ve given false power to.

If God is for us then who, or what, could ever stop us?

Certainly God is bigger than our mistakes.

And this, this, is my platform…Embrace your potential and future instead of your failures and past.

What have you allowed to shape you that needs reshaping?

 

I Wonder What I Would’ve Become…

Earlier today Alece and I were talking about what people have become in life because others poured into them.

Like Venus and Serena Williams. From childhood they were encouraged in their sport.

Many actors and musicians…the same.

Lots of “successful” people I know were encouraged at a young age to explore their gifts and talents.

Parents play a large role in this. Some teachers do as well.

I said to Alece, just the night before, that I never truly had a desire to go to college. Though I always felt like there was something for me to do in life but had no idea what it was.

When I was a small child I used to line up all my stuffed animals on my bed in several rows as if they were an audience. I would take the kitchen broom and stand it up in one of my play buckets, stuffed with clothes so that the broom could stand on its own. That became my microphone.

No. I did not sing for my stuffed audience.

I talked.

I imagined they needed me. I pretended they were there to hear me talk to them.

I helped them. I told them stories.

Me, a tiny 8 year old, sharing hope with my fiber filled friends.

It just felt natural.

But no one ever knew that was in me. I never said anything.

No one ever asked.

I was never encouraged to explore. It was like no one was aware of me.

So today I wondered…What would’ve become of me had someone, anyone, invested into little Tam.

I wonder.

Do you ever wonder?