A motto for mothers

Evangeline, 15 months

Last Sunday in church, I had a glimpse of what my daughter will look like when she's grown up. Newsflash: She is going to be completely gorgeous. 

I know, I know — it's so typical for mothers to believe their children are the smartest, the cutest, the most talented. You know why? Because each child, to her mother, is. We always like to hear compliments about our children from other people, certainly, but deep down, we know it instinctively. 

I didn't understand that kind of love before I became a mother. I knew my mom loved me, inexplicably sometimes, especially during my difficult high school days. But I didn't understand how strong it is, how deeply-rooted and insistent it is. How wonderful and bittersweet it is.

There is nothing more limitless than my daughter's potential right now. She could be anything, do anything, go anywhere — her future is wide-open and full of possibilities. It would be so easy to be intimidated by that and give into the fear that if I'm somehow lacking as a mother, her life will be destroyed. Instead, I'm humbled by incredible honor it is to shape a young person ... and fortified in the belief that, with the grace of God, I can help to make Evangeline's life be one of purpose and faith.

Even on the days when she's pushed me to my limit — and believe me, there's a lot of mischief behind that little grin — I'm always a bit sad to put her into bed at night. I'd be hard-pressed to pick out a favorite time with her, but snuggling right before bedtime has to be up there on the list. She is so active during the day, it's a treat to feel her little limbs relax and watch her long eyelashes droop onto her cheeks. 


If I could prolong these sweet days when my girl is little, I would. Simultaneously, I wouldn't, because I am so excited to see what kind of a person she will grow up to be. It's times like this when it would be handy to have a TARDIS. Since I don't, I fall back on the saying that's become my motherhood motto: 

Enjoy each day for the joys it brings. Don't wish the time away and don't regret what's already passed. Look forward to what lies ahead.

No excuse for not passing it on

I will be completely honest: When Peggy Liermann asked me over a year ago to consider becoming a TeamMates mentor, I was hesitant. With a baby due in October, I didn’t see how fitting an hour every week for mentoring would work in my schedule. So I told her to ask me in a year, figuring that if she was anything like me, it would be forgotten in the bustle of daily life.

Fortunately, Peggy is not me. Sure enough, last August she approached me again and this time, I knew there was no excuse.

A background check, a couple of hours of training and an overview of the TeamMates mentoring program — founded in 1991 by Tom and Nancy Osborne to provide support and encouragement to school-aged youth — and I was ready to meet my mentee.

Here’s what I’ve discovered in my first semester of mentoring: It’s fun. It’s rewarding. It’s much less of a time commitment than I anticipated. The hour I spend with my student passes more quickly than any other hour in the week. We talk, write and she beats me at Yahtzee nearly every game.

January is National Mentoring Month and Jan. 26 has been designated as “Thank Your Mentor Day.”

I’ve been blessed to have several excellent mentors in my life, people who took an interest in my passions and nurtured me in the pursuit of them. Without them, I don’t know that I’d be doing what I am today, and I am thankful for their positive influences.

There are two ways to honor your mentor: 1) Contact your mentor to express your appreciation and 2) Pass it on by becoming a mentor to a young person in your community.

I don’t meet with my mentors for an hour every week — in fact, it’s been years since I’ve seen most of them. But they’re never far from my thoughts, especially on the days when I serve as a mentor.

Mentoring isn’t about perfection or solving every problem. It’s about encouragement and support, building a relationship with youth to give them a sense of purpose and hope.

It’s about passing it on.

On the Lighter Side

Published January 25, 2012

A tale of two searches

I started this blog five years ago as I sat in a cold and lonely hallway, waiting for EPS school board members to emerge from executive session about their search for a superintendent and tell me "No comment." It was not the best time of my life. 

But it got better and now I'm covering another superintendent search, this time with much less hallway-sitting and futile phone-calling. Comparing the two districts may be comparing apples and oranges — virtually everything about them, from size to student demographic, is different — and yet I was struck by how much more efficiently and openly this search has been conducted. 

Not everyone is passionate about education politics. I honestly can't say I am, either. But as a tax-paying citizen, I appreciate that our school board members are being accountable to the district's patrons by willingly sharing information with local media (i.e., me). 

In a political climate where most elected officials are notorious for spin and secrecy, it's refreshing to encounter an example of precisely the opposite.

Transparency is a valuable quality in superintendent search

Wisner-Pilger’s superintendent search is not the first one I’ve ever covered.

When I moved to Enid, OK, five years ago, the city’s largest school district was preparing to start a search of their own. As the education beat reporter, it was my job to let our readers know how the process worked, who was involved and how close the school board was to finding a new superintendent.

During my first week on the job, as the newspaper’s editors explained what they wanted, it didn’t seem like an insurmountable task. Go to a few meetings, talk to some people, write it up — all that I could do.

However, I quickly discovered it wasn’t as simple as I’d hoped.

One problem was the fact that the search committee was extremely reluctant to speak with anyone outside their group. That most definitely included a newspaper reporter.

At least one night a week, I’d camp outside a closed-door meeting, waiting for hours to see if anyone would emerge with information to share with me. Sometimes all I needed was a simple “no comment,” but even that was hard-won.

Eventually, the committee began meeting at country clubs outside of town, changing their meeting locations and times. Each time, I’d be dispatched to wait, to pester, to glean whatever scraps of information I could.

One point the committee was especially close-lipped about were who potential superintendent candidates were. At one point, my editor told me to identify where vehicles in the parking lot came from; an impossible task, as Oklahoma license plates are alpha-numerical instead of labeled by county like they are in Nebraska.

I hated it so much. Instead of doing what I thought I’d be hired to do, I was venturing uncomfortably close to tabloid territory. I sympathized with the search committee members; I certainly wouldn’t have wanted to be peppered with questions about an issue I didn’t want to discuss.

Mostly, though, I felt sorry for the patrons of the district who were being kept in the dark, despite my best efforts to do otherwise.

Happily, Wisner-Pilger’s superintendent search is less fraught with secrecy. The search committee has been helpful and forthright, willing to answer questions and share information. As a reporter and as a district taxpayer, I know precisely how valuable that transparency is.

This isn’t my first superintendent search. But it’s the first one that’s not a nightmare to cover.

On the Lighter Side

Published January 18, 2012

Love is weird

Lily and Kathryn, I'm probably going to use this quote at both of your weddings. 

Just so you know ...

"We are all a little weird and life's a little weird, and when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it love."

Theodor Geisel (Dr. Seuss)

There is a lid for every pot. My lid's name is Jim. I'm awfully fond of him.

At the Potluck

Welcome to the inaugural "At the Potluck" post at Lutheran Thrifty Mama! 


I dearly love church potluck dinners (or as our church calls them, "pot-blessed" dinners). Each dish reflects the creativity and practicality of its maker. The men and women of Northeast Nebraska — because, contrary to popular belief, cooking is not limited to one gender — are busy and hard-working. We have enough time to make food that tastes good and is good for you, but we don't have time to traipse all over the grocery store looking for hard-to-find and harder-to-pronounce ingredients. Instead, the components of potluck dishes are accessible and familiar; much of the time, they're even produced a few miles from where they'll be consumed. (OK, so ours usually aren't, but it will be a different story this summer ...)


That's why potluck dishes are the inspiration for my kitchen style: They're practical, simple, wholesome. They might not always be pretty, but you can be sure they will taste like home.


Monday
Slow-cooked cheesy chicken and rice
Cooked carrots
Fruit cocktail salad


Tuesday
Pizza bagels
Lettuce salad
Leftover fruit salad


Wednesday
Creamy fiesta salsa chicken
Spanish rice
Apples/grapes


Thursday
Marinated pork chops
Crack potatoes
Cinnamon applesauce
Lettuce salad


Friday
Leftovers


Saturday
Lasagna
Lettuce salad
Garlic bread


Sunday
Chicken salad croissants
Green beans
Lemon pull-aparts (double batch - one for home, one for an arts reception in the afternoon)

At the potluck

I have the best intentions when it comes to meal planning. When I really have my life together, I pull out my Taste of Home Quick Cooking cookbook, 2001 edition, (approximately 85% of what I cook comes from its cherry pie filling-stained pages) and write meals down on the blank calendars I have so dutifully printed out and stuck in the front of the book. 

Source

And that's as far as it goes. Do I grocery shop for the ingredients, basic as they may be, needed for the quick and easy recipes? Do you think I would be writing this if the answer was yes? 

The more realistic version of meal planning in my house happens in reverse. I reflect on the meals I made over the past week and figure out what worked and what ... didn't. 

Here's how the main courses of last week played out:

Monday- Slow-cooked beef stroganoff 

I put some frozen roast beef (pre-cooked), a bag of frozen green beans, a can of cream of mushroom soup, half a can of water and some sour cream in the slow cooker and let it cook on high for 5 hours. (I would have put in on low for 8 hours if I had got it ready before I left for work.) After it was done cooking, I served it over noodles with sour cream. 

Reaction from the Food Critic (aka Jim): The meat was a little on the fatty side. Since the meat was gifted to us, I'm not too concerned about it.

Additional notes: It would also be good served over rice.

Tuesday- Pizza bagels

I cut three plain bagels in half and layered them with pizza sauce, cheese and pepperoni. I broiled them for five minutes. 

Reaction from The Food Critic: Yum! Are there more? 

Notes: This would also work well with English muffins.

Wednesday- Coachmen's!

Jim went to a basketball game with a friend, so I ordered in a taco salad from our 

favorite local restaurant.

Thursday- Ham and cheese scrambled eggs and strawberry milkshakes 

Pretty self-explanatory, although I like putting ketchup on my eggs. I wish I could say it's a pregnancy thing ... but it's not.

Reaction from The Food Critic: Non-committal, but since he went to Bible class with a full stomach, I'm counting it as a win.

Friday- ???? 

I really don't know what's going to be on the table tonight. We're going to auditions at the community theatre tonight for Willie Wonka: The Musical, so it's possible we'll enjoy a delicious sandwich from our newly-opened Subway.

I tend to cook only at suppertime since breakfast is grab-and-go (yogurt, bananas, bagels, toast or cereal) and lunch is usually leftovers. My go-to kitchen appliance is the slow cooker. I've found that if you put in meat, vegetables or potatoes and cream of mushroom or cream of chicken soup, let it do its thing for 6-8 hours and serve over rice or pasta, it turns out OK. Is it gourmet? Absolutely not. But I'm a Lutheran Swede and therefore anything starchy in white sauce resonates with me.

While this catch-as-catch-can method has worked for my family for well, basically always, I'm trying to get a bit more organized before Stormy joins us in May. (That's why I ordered a cute Home Management Notebook from Kayse at FindingHope.com - I can't wait to use it!) It's not that I'm lacking in recipes or even the skills to make meals: It's the execution of meal planning where I fail. 

So I'm going to be more intentional about planning menus — every Sunday I'll post the menu I'm planning for the coming week, take-out and all. I'll be honest: My recipes aren't exceptional or original. But they work for me, a busy working mom and community volunteer, and if you like the type of food found at a church potluck, you're in the right place. 

Check here on Sundays for "At the Potluck" at Lutheran Thrifty Mama! 

Good enough for Benjamin Franklin, good enough for me

http://dailyroutines.typepad.com/daily_routines/statesmen/

Is it me, or does this week seem really long ... and, as of this writing, it’s only Tuesday?

I suppose that’s the price you pay for consecutive three-day weekends. With Monday being our busiest day at the News-Chronicle, it was strange last week to be sipping decaffeinated coffee in my pajamas at 9 a.m. instead of laying out pages. Strange, but nice.

Now it’s back to reality, and even though this week seems interminable, I’m glad. Being Lutheran and a fourth-generation German-Swede, it should come as no surprise that I’m a creature of habit.

For the sanity of my family and co-workers, that’s a very good thing. If I’m not ready to head out the door by 7:30 a.m., weekday or weekend, there’s a good chance nothing productive is going to happen that day. There’s a mental fork in the road at that time of the morning. One road leads to a day full of getting down to business ... the other leads to a Netflix marathon.

There’s a reason why most parenting books recommend developing routines for children — there’s nothing better for creating a sense of stability and security than knowing what to expect.

Take a look at any schoolchild’s daily schedule and you’ll see it clearly illustrated. Every minute is designated to a specific lesson or activity. If you ask any teacher, you’ll find out the most trying days in the classroom are the ones that diverge from The Schedule. (The capitalization is intentional; it really is that important.)

I don’t think it’s any different for adults. There aren’t many certain things in life, but having a general idea of what’s coming at you each day helps prepare you for that uncertainty.

It doesn’t take a big leap, then, to figure out why January is a popular month to purchase new personal planners and calendars, digital or otherwise. It’s a new year, time for a new start.
Benjamin Franklin suggested the following “scheme of employment for the twenty-four hours of the natural day”: 

5-7 a.m. Rise, wash and address Powerful Goodness (God)! Contrive day’s business, and take the resolution of the day; prosecute the present study, and breakfast.

8-11 a.m. Work.

12-1 p.m. Read, or look over my accounts, and dine.

2-5 p.m. Work.

5-9 p.m. Put things in their places. Supper. Music or diversion, or conversation. Examination of the day.

10 p.m.-4 a.m. Sleep

Two questions should be asked every day, according to Franklin. Morning: What good shall I do this day? Evening: What good have I done today?

If a set routine was good enough for one of America’s Founding Fathers, it’s certainly good enough for me. While I don’t know that I’ll get up by 5 a.m. willingly (after the baby is born, though, sleeping in until then will be a luxury), it’s a good template to adapt for my own life.

Each day deserves routine to ensure a balance between work and play.

Sources: The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin and http: dailyroutines.typepad.com.

On the Lighter Side

Published January 11, 2012

Promises, not resolutions, for 2012

There are no New Year’s resolutions on my horizon for 2012.

Seemingly positive on the surface — who doesn’t want to lose weight or eat their recommended daily servings of fruits and vegetables? — resolutions are really negative.

Essentially, resolutions are an exercise in self-loathing: You’re identifying the things about yourself you dislike most. I don’t know about you, but some days that’s the only exercise I get.

Add to that the fact we already live in an extremely critical environment. Turn on any television news channel or read online commentary and you’ll quickly find out what’s wrong with everyone else.

It isn’t bad to recognize wrong-doing or to offer suggestions on how to correct a problem. Self-examination can be healthy and it’s necessary for personal growth. But it’s also okay to lighten up on yourself. That’s why I think promises, and not resolutions, are a better way to approach the new year.

So here’s the two-step process to make New Year’s promise: First, identify personal habits and qualities you like about yourself. Promise yourself you’ll keep on doing what you do well, and give yourself credit for it.
Second, promise to reward yourself. I love to read, so whether it’s for 10 minutes or an hour, that’s my daily treat. Have some fun and pick your own. 

It’s a simple approach, but it’s one that I hope will lead to a 2012 full of promise.

On the Lighter Side

Published January 4, 2012

•••

I didn't include this in my weekly newspaper column — the governor's column had to get in somehow — plus, I thought it was a bit self-indulgent for that medium. But that's not a problem here, so without further ado, here are my promises for 2012: 

• I promise to continue being a mother to Evangeline (and soon, Stormageddon!), and being amazed each day at what a blessing they are. 

• I promise to be a good example for E and Stormy, modeling patience and compassion in my words and actions. 

• I promise to devote time to being a wife and friend to the Captain, making him know he takes priority in my heart and life.

• I promise to keep taking care of my body and the precious life growing inside me, with moderate exercise and healthy eating habits. 

• I promise to take time for myself, knowing that a wife, mother and employee who is serene makes a better environment for everyone around her.

• I promise to make time for my extended family, whether that means regular phone calls, cards or, even better, getting to see them in person.

• I promise to ground myself in God's Word daily, that all my doings and life, being ordered by Him, would be pleasing in His sight. 

My rewards for 2012 won't be much different from what they were in 2011, though I expect they'll be even sweeter — and rarer — with two children in tow:

• Reading: I promise to read, every day possible, both for recreation and for education.

• Thrifting: I promise to be an intentional thrifter, purchasing what my family needs and a little bit of what they want.

• Writing: I promise to write something every day, even if it's as insignificant as a clever quotation.

I'd love to hear what some of your 2012 promises and rewards are! 

A yearly tradition finds new life

Growing up, my New Year’s tradition was to write a letter to my future self to be read in a year’s time. I still have them, bundled up in a box somewhere in the closet, but I don’t need to read them to remember what they say:

2000, 2001, 2002: “Maybe this is the year HE will notice you! You never know!” I wrote for three out of the four years of high school. And yes, I meant the same boy each year. And no, it never happened.

2003: “By this time next year, you’ll be halfway through your first year of college. I can’t believe you’ll be out of high school!”

2004: “This guy, Jim, seems pretty cool. I wonder where we’ll be in a year.”

2006: “Wow, next year you’ll be signing this letter as Mrs. Kirk. I can’t wait for July!”

2007: “Good bye, Concordia. Hello, Enid News & Eagle.”

2008: “Wisner’s a pretty nice place. I hope you stick around here for a while.”

Then I stopped writing my yearly letters. I felt that after high school and college graduations, a wedding and a “real” job, there wasn’t much left to anticipate.

In a way, I wasn’t completely wrong. The early part of my twenties was packed full of life-changing events, most of them good. After so much activity, though, it was bound to slow down. What I didn’t anticipate was how much I would enjoy the “settling down” phase of my life.

I like going home every night to Jim and Evangeline, knowing we can look forward to an evening of family time. I enjoy completing the regular chores it takes to keep the household running smoothly, knowing that a sink full of dirty dishes means we’re eating well and a pile of dirty laundry means we’re all in the same place. I cherish Sundays at church, reciting the liturgy and singing hymns my great-grandparents also sang.

And with a young child in the house, there are still plenty of surprises to keep life interesting. I would never have guessed, writing my letters as a teenager, the joy a new tooth brings, or the simple pleasure of tucking in a sleepy baby for the night.

As I wrote our family newsletter, I had so much to say about Evangeline’s accomplishments over the past year. When I got to filling in relatives on what Jim and I had been up to, though, I was amazed that not much had changed for us in 2011.

Then I realized I can trade in my old tradition for a new one: Writing a letter for Evangeline to read in a year’s time, a letter detailing my hopes for her in 2012.

There’s a whole world of firsts waiting for my daughter, and I’m excited to be by her side as she experiences them.

PS: A confession - it's the third day of 2012 and I haven't written Evangeline's letter yet. As she is currently content playing with new baby doll (thanks Aunt Astra!), I don't think she'll mind too much. 

On the Lighter Side

Published December 28, 2011