"No" Nonsense

Well, it's official. My baby boy has learned how to say "no." And I'm not talking about a simple "no" or polite "no thank you," but a full-out head shake "no-no-mmm-mmm." He loves his new word so much, he says it as an answer to everything.
"Jack, you want a bottle?"
"No-no-mmm-mmm."
"Jack, you want to go play outside?"
"No-no-mmm-mmm."
"Jack, you want this piece of cake?"
"No-no-mmm-mmm"...(here is where he takes the cake and runs away.)

Have you ever noticed the gumption with which a child says the word 'no?' When they finally realize that they can say it, they say it with everything they've got. And rightfully so. In the word 'no' lies the freedom and power of choice.

Why, then, is it so difficult for adults to say it? I know that I personally always feel obligated to tell people 'yes.' Even my 'no's' aren't exactly that. Instead they are "not right now, but maybe later's" or "Let me think about it's" or "I have to ask my husband first's" or "Let me see how the kids are doing and then I'll get back to you's."

All this 'no' nonsense is driving me crazy. Half of the things I say 'yes' to are things I don't want to do, or am not meant to do. And in fact, they are taking away valuable time and energy from the things I said 'yes' to and really wanted to do. But if I do say 'no,' does that make me a mean person, a bad person, an unreliable person? Say 'no' enough and eventually people will stop asking you to do things altogether, which is not what I want either. It's a tricky business.

Do I want to put forth my best effort in everything I deem worthy of spending my time on? YES
Do I want to break promises? NO
Do I want to spend quality time with my children and husband? YES
Do I want to spend quality time with my friends? YES
Am I going to be able to please everybody all the time? NO
Do I like helping people? YES
Am I able to help everyone all the time? NO

I don't want to be a doormat, but I also don't want to appear shut-off or unapproachable. What it all boils down to is this: we need to remember that in everything, God has blessed us with the freedom and power of choice. It is up to us to decide and then act accordingly on those decisions.

"Simply let your 'Yes' be 'Yes,' and your 'No,' 'No'; anything beyond this comes from the evil one." Matthew 5:37

I love being in a position where I can say 'yes' alot of the time. I am able to help a friend in need, support a cause, spend time with people I care about, and ultimately, serve myself by serving others.
But sometimes, I really just need to vigorously shake my head and yell out at the top of my lungs "No-no-mmm-mmm!" without feeling laden with guilt.
I'll let you know how that works out for me ;)

To My Die-Hard Dad

Websites are buzzing with funny and touching Father's Day stories. I decided I should write a story about my own dad. I'm not sure how funny or touching it will be to anyone else, but here it goes...

I was talking on the phone today with my mother and she told me that she took my younger brother to the Dallas Maverick's Parade in celebration of their championship title; an event my father has been rooting for since before I can even remember. I couldn't help but smile as my mom said, "A good thing about your father, he is a true die-hard fan."

So true! My dad has a knack for loving the worst teams (and I say that with all of the love in my heart, Dad.) The Detroit Lions...boo. Detroit Tigers...hiss. Texas Tech...boo hisssss :) He's loved the Texas Rangers through the worst of times. The Mavs when it was embarrassing to love them. But he is no fair-weather fan, which must make it so much sweeter now that he has endured the worst and is able to celebrate becoming the very best.

And he has always been a true die-hard fan of mine. I cannot say that I know of any other dad who did a toe touch in a pee-wee drillteam pep rally for his daughter. He was my softball coach. He played countless games of HORSE with me in my childhood backyard. He drilled me on the math homework I could never seem to figure out. He was my chauffeur to many a practice, audition, competition, and performance. He has been front-row-center to witness many of my victories.

But he has unfortunately been present for a few of my sorrier seasons. The secret house parties, the dead-beat boyfriends, the lame excuses, the multitude of lies, blantant disrespects, selfish acts, and eyerollings...(All you ex-teenage daughters, you know where I'm coming from with these.) I hate thinking that at any point in my life, I could have brought shame on my biggest fan. But thankfully, he is a die-hard, and he just kept right on rooting for me.

Hopefully now as I've entered my rebuilding season, I am able to help him wear his "DAD jersey" with a little more pride. And since we have endured so many losing seasons together, I hope it makes the little victories of mine all the sweeter for him.

I love you, Dad. I know you are my #1 fan. Thank you for the endless support you've given me; it doesn't go unnoticed!!!

Gettin' Good at Good-bye

This has been a month full of good-byes for us.

It all started with my husband leaving for NTC. The following week my daughter had four girls leave her dance class...on the same day. Today was her dance instructor's last day, and in the afternoon we said good-bye to a friend I had made at my MOPS group.

(For anyone who has/has had/has seen small children before:) You know when a three-year-old is having fun at a friend's house and you tell them it's time to leave? That's the reaction I've been confronted with now for about 2 weeks straight...but from my inner-self.

I was talking to someone today about this and said that good-byes are always hard simply because you will miss the person that is going away. But they are also difficult because a part of yourself can't help feeling like you are being left behind. People move onward to their next chapter in life while you're stuck on the same page.

And what I didn't tell her but decided later is that maybe I also dislike them so much because it forces me to make a change myself. I like talking to my husband everyday and having him come home. I enjoyed watching my daughter play with and get to know those four girls (not to mention I really enjoyed talking to their mothers.) I really liked my daughter's dance instructor and thought she was sweet and personable and well-qualified. I liked knowing a friendly face when I walked into a MOPS meeting. I really liked the place I was at and now, suddenly, I have been removed from that comfortable spot. I feel displaced. And honestly, that kind of scares me.

My plan, as it always is, is to keep rolling with the punches. (You kind of have to when you're in the military.) I find peace in the fact that oftentimes "good-byes" go hand-in-hand with "hello-agains." Doors closing lead to windows opening. Sweet endings give birth to new beginnings. And best of all (and the one I'm looking forward to the most) "I'll be back soons" turn into "welcome home, Daddys."