“This is the most bittersweet day of my life,” she said. Until I heard that this morning, I don’t think I was ready to admit my little girl is no longer that.

nova 2
(Leigh Minor Muldrow photo)

At 6 a.m. her alarm went off. Her baby brother called her name and finished the job the alarm clock couldn’t do. She was awake and ready to do something we have done for 4 years straight. She did her hair, her make-up, a load of laundry, packed up her bags, grabbed her coat and made the statement that made this real.

I realized this is it. I know this is the last time she is going. I know she makes the same commute 6 days a week that she will make to get there today ( the festival is being held in the same building where she attends classes). I know she will be with hundreds of people we see every year at this time. This is all so much the same yet seems totally different. With her words I am struck with that difference, and I now grasp the weight, that this it for her.

The Delaware Dance Festival is held around this time every year. Every year there are scholarship auditions, master classes, and every participating studio performs. Every year she meets new friends. Hugs and reconnects with those she has made in the past and every year, my daughter gets to grow.

The reason it may be so bitter sweet to her may be that this gives her a chance to connect to peers. Many of those peers have her same drive, share her same interests. It may be that it stretches her. It gives her the chance to learn from teachers outside of her training and in other styles outside of her core technique. It may be that she gets to perform in a group of dances for dancers and so to for herself. Possibly the chance to see other girls outside of her own studio walls and what they do or how differently they do it gives her new energy and ideas about what she does. And this is the last time she gets to do it. But I think it’s more.

This is a graduation for her in a sense. Passing from student to a young woman pursuing a career in what she loves, ballet. It is a rite of passage of sorts. She will stand on the stage at the end of this thing and be done. Once she crosses the stage this part of her learning is over.

My oldest daughter Nova moved from her home studio to a studio much farther away from home… in the middle of the year. Just before festival.

She was “between” studios, if you will. When she went to the table to register her new school director asked why she wasn’t with her “other” school. There was no performing because she wasn’t in either studio’s piece because of the timing of her the change. She had friends at both places and from studios everywhere in the surrounding states (those she had met over the years mostly because of this very festival) but as a student she was still “between.” Festival would be a turning point for her. When it started there was no more in between. And during last year’s festival she would truly pick a path and have to find a way to walk it.

A career in dance is not easy. A choice to do that sometimes means you have to make changes. You have to learn from different teachers and coaches. You can’t just stay in one place forever. The moving around in her situation would put us in the middle of a lot of things. Sometimes following a dream starts with a choice like this. It brings questions that might not seem obvious right away but experience with seminars and advice from master teachers at regional festivals sometimes give not just answers but the courage to jump and keep asking those questions as you figure it out.
Nova 1
(Leigh Minor Muldrow photo)

Last year at festival she was pulled aside by a prominent dancer of our time. A master teacher and ballerina that did things in ballet no one ever had. She is a force, an inspiration and she gave my daughter words to hold on to. She believed in her. She told her she IS a dancer and that she would find her way to making this her career if that is what she chooses. I know my daughter has the courage to stand on her own two feet, and a foundation that will keep her there, but she had just given her more. She gave her the wings to move. To take that foundation and not be afraid to try and do bigger things than a lot of people believe they can. Festival brought her to my daughter and she brought hope to my daughter.

The timing of the studio switch not only meant she wouldn’t be dancing in a festival piece, it also meant going to Youth American Grand Prix as an independent student while both of the schools she was between were there too. Having been homeschooled, our daughter attached to her largest friend group at dance, and it meant she was “leaving” them and the studio she grew up in. Of course she was not abandoning relationships but sometimes teenage girls think when a friend leaves the studio they might not just change location but drop them and jump in to have “new” friends at new places. Add to this the chance for her to do a show with a studio company totally separate from the new school and the old, where she could walk to rehearsals on the weekends which led to her having a performance on one of the rehearsal days for the new studio’s recital which led to her being told she would not perform in that and top it all off with a job through the week, and she was pulled a lot. Or for sure felt like she was. Like she wasn’t fully a part of anything and not officially a part of any other.

The good news was that starting the next school year she would start full time with the school she switched to before last festival. This was a Fresh start. It seemed much easier to pick up, to start fresh and to fit and to belong.

In reality, it became much more difficult when we started a new school year. Not only did she (we actually) miss friends and teachers near and dear to her, but there would be no time for connections or really much of anything else. This year she would begin going to this new studio over an hour away without the comfort of a shift from one place to another in the middle of season’s kind of keeping her foot in familiar studio doors. Emotionally, that was hard. She would be driving herself on an evening commute most adults find tedious. She would have to work in a restaurant every day to help pay for classes, pointe shoes, oil changes, gas, flat tires, her phone bill, and a lot of little things in between. She would have to finish school work for her Senior year of high school before work, pick up another teenager from her school, make a commute to the studio after already having put in a full day at work and school, and be signed up to do this 6 days a week.

Add to all of that everything else a normal teenage girl has on her plate and mix it with a large family (8 kids, 7 at home plus mom and dad) and you have busy most days, and a mess other days. In order to do what she wants in life she would, we would be willing to deal with the messes.

Flash forward to where she is not between to where she has ALWAYS belonged- Dance Festival. Where for an entire weekend all of that disappears. She is in one place with likeminded people. She is surrounded by what she loves. She can just Dance.

A dance festival that is made up of Hundreds of students who are there with a love of dance and an eagerness to learn,teachers there who are excited about fresh faces, and many organizers and volunteers who have prepared all year for this. Those people who are there for these kids to grow and learn and to maybe have the chance at a scholarship that will get them to a place they could never have gone without a scholarship, or to receive a scholarship to help send them to a school or a summer intensive or master classes that will grow them are like family. And though Scholarships are amazing for these kids, the kids who may never receive one have won. Those kids who soak in the teaching and the friendships have won the infectious spirit of the comradery that fills the classes and an energy that you don’t seem to get at a lot of dance conventions or competitions because this is us. This is our region. These are the boys and girls you have grown up with in dance. People you see at shows, and master classes and auditions in the area. These hundreds of people who become your mentors and friends have forever found a place in your heart. The encouragement whether through individual correction or just being in the room with inspiring people is a prize for everyone in attendance, parents, students and teachers alike.
It is wonderful.
This is home.
Everyone is here, together and there is no in between.
All of HER studios are there
All of HER teachers are with her.
All of HER friends are everywhere she looks.
This is a place. Where my daughter has always felt connected. This is a place where she has always felt the freedom to search, and reach, to be who she is, to grow, to shine, to dance and not just to dream but to grab a hold of those dreams and keep running with them .

This is the most bittersweet day of her life…. so far.

This is when I, as her mom realize that as she has been growing before my eyes, as she has been working; working hard to reach what might just be a dream, that this is it.
She is no longer between. This is a marker for her. This huge part of her childhood and her journey toward making dreams come closer to reality.

This is the moment when she takes off and just keeps moving forward.
This is the first day of her last dance festival.

This is the most bittersweet day of her life.

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An open letter to Sara Michelle Murawski, Ballerina

An open letter to Sara Michelle Murawski, Ballerina

Dear Sara,

This week the world watched you at the very top of your game. You danced lead roles in the most beloved of all Christmastime ballets. You accomplished a dream not just of yours, but of little girls, in your big city, in your hometown, and in the entire world.

As you took the stage you felt that. As you lifted your jewel covered head to gracefully step through the open wing and as you felt the light warm your face you absolutely lived it. You lived that very moment for every little girl, everywhere, with a dream.

When the curtain fell, your dreams still soared and your life felt maybe just a little too blissful and beautiful to be true. You felt accomplished. Fulfilled. You felt utter joy and absolute glee.

Then every dream you lived seemed to be crushed in an instant with one big blow.
Pushed out of your position in the ballet company you came to work with suddenly, just in the moments you were still on cloud nine, you were fired. Fired because you are too tall. You don’t fit the company you were a part of. You were rejected.

With every strike and blow of the words you had to hear, with the dreadful realization of what was happening, with every thought of who doesn’t want you anymore your hopes fell. Your heart fell. You fell.

Every dancer, even those who only dance in their minds, like all of the dreaming little ballerinas, every one of them fears the fall.

The fall that happens center stage when all eyes are on you because it is a pivotal moment, because you are in the height of the piece, because the excitement and music has built to its crescendo only to come crashing down.

You dread the fall not because it will hurt but because the whole world is watching you do something big and in an instant, you will fall face first to the ground.

What many of those dreaming ballerinas have yet to understand is, that this fall is important. That you have to start over IS a big deal. That the whole world is watching will have an impact on you and on them.

You see, It isn’t that you fell that will define you, it’s how you get up and handle yourself after you do that will leave its mark. Because sometimes, when you fall, it isn’t your fault, it isn’t pretty and it most definitely is not part of the dance.

The fall is the opportunity to inspire. To show your worth. To make all things new again. To handle it with grace in front of girls you can and will inspire is the biggest thing you may ever be faced with the privilege to do.

“All the world’s a stage.” When we are thrust to the floor of it in front of anyone and everyone who cares to watch, it is also where you get to beautifully rise with strength and dignity as you continue to perform. It is where wings can no longer be clipped, where cages are opened. It is where you learn to fly.

Don’t make a fall a part of the dance. Let it be seen by the world for exactly what it is, an ugly crushing blow. Let it be known that when you are pushed to the ground by the gravity and weight of things you can not control, you will get back up.

Don’t make this fall part of the dance, make the grace you display after it the entire show!

With love and encouragement always,


(The mother

of a dancer who is
“too tall”)

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Pretty Flowers Project

A few weeks back a friend was having a party and looking for flowers to go on the cake that had a certain look. I saw them and thought they looked like Crepe Paper Flowers! Now, no one in this house had made them before, but really how hard could it be right? Knowing that we surely had enough craft junk here to be able to do them, we took a stab at it.

The 3 flowers were a soft pink with sparkling rhinestone centers that trailed up the side of the cake. We had some pink crepe paper left from a girl’s birthday last year so we gathered that, some toothpicks, white glue, paper and, our jars of buttons and sparkly things and this is how it went:

1. Tear the paper into small strips, about 1 to 2 inches. Flower petals don’t have a straight edge so these shouldn’t either.DSC_0027


2.  Have a cute little kid crinkle the petal paper pieces up a bit.  Almost destroying something in the process of making things is, after all, fun.


3. Have another kiddo draw circles to use as a base on whatever paper you choose. We traced coins in two sizes onto  card stock weight paper. Then they can cut them out as neatly as they can.

4. Keep another  child busy with cutting tiny strips to make a little piece that will be glued between the two circles to add just a smidgen of space between the two circles that you then  glue, large piece, bent strip then small piece to make center/base for your flower.DSC_0140

5. Glue “petals” around the  base in layers until you think it looks flowery enough for you. If you want to you can glue your little circles onto a cupcake wrapper just so you can be a little more messy with glue and little hand. It gives you a wider base and is easy to cut off at the end if needed






6. Find  or make a sparkly center. We used a large bead surrounded by small beads glued to paper then glued it onto the center of the flower. We did have a great time looking through old buttons and beads and counting and sorting. I don’t know why but kids love sorting buttons.


7.  Glue and squish and mush the paper around till you like it.

8. Then paint a little sparkle on the edges of the petals to make it a little more fancy if you want.

9. Finally attachDSC_0190 a long tooth pick or straw to the back so  you  can place on  a cake  or in a vase, or wherever you’d like.




Oh yeah, on the kid end of things I gave one the camera to take pictures of the whole project , just in case it worked.

Photo Credit goes to Thomas Gaffney!


It was a  fun little project , kept them busy for two entire evenings and I hear made a great addition to the cake.


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Picture Perfect

As I was getting up this morning I was thinking about  moms who have a picture of their baby’s first wince, baby’s first smile, baby’s first Christmas,  baby’s first Valentine’s Day, and I had a tiny bit of guilt. I take more pictures of other people’s babies than I feel like I do of my own sometimes. My kids won’t have those posed, costumed, photos to look back on…..

Then I remembered why. I am not THAT mom. I am their mom. A different mom. A mom who may not have taken all the pictures because I have them here in my arms and sometimes the snuggles and messes and Craft days of life are bigger than a picture.

In fact the ones we have had “professionally” done are nice and we try and keep them as stress free as possible. For the most part the kids can be themselves and wear what they want, but the ones where we have to have them dress a certain way and have the “perfect smile” and all look the same direction as their third cousin twice removed’s sister, are just not fun.  They are high stress.

The kids tend to remember the stress of that kind of picture when they look at it. Seriously, a four year old is not going to look at the funny heart glasses they wore in a picture 2 years before and think how sweet and happy they were on Valentine’s day, but they may look and remember their grandma having convulsions and singing like a flamingo caught between and alligators two front teeth, which of course was her way of making said child “happy” and “joyful so we could capture the REAL him the picture.

All that said last night my sweet niece wanted a picture to post of her Valentine ’s Day that wasn’t a seflie of her in front of the bathroom mirror with the open toilet behind her while she stool defiantly being “her own Valentine.”  But  she did want one that strikes out against the, “look what I got! My ring and roses is bigger than yours,” posts. So we saw some really cheesy roses and a giant fake ring at the dollar store and thought maybe my three year old could hand them to her and I could get a pic of the back of his little head looking up at her adoringly (He does truly adore her.) That would be a sweet little, #Idon’tneednomanforthesake ofaholiday post, right?

BUT, the sweet little three year old wanted to dress up in a suit and  really give her this stuff and then when it was all said and done wanted to be sure she could keep it because he is, “ really marwying her!” So he was way sweet and way adorable and all the kids had fun AND we got some too cute and funny pics in a “posy” picture session without stress, who knew

I opened my computer to send those ultra-sweet photographs to my niece (shortly after my little guilty moment) so that she could thumb her nose at social media through curtness and what did I find?  My cousin’s two utterly adorable heartbroken kids in their Valentine’s Day photo of happiness.  It seems that they oh so love holiday’s at school. See my cousin is totally amazing at the holiday matching pajamas into the holiday day clothes into the holiday activities thing (yeah, opposite of me who sometimes buys the cookie cutters we plan on using but most times don’t get to). She always takes a picture of them “ready to party,” and we all ooohhh and ahhhh at the cuteness.

Well today, today, school was cancelled. Snow days usually bring joy and holiday photo sessions at least a conjured smile, but today this is what we got….

Happy Valentine's Day

This is an awesome holiday picture!


So may I remind you, and myself, that dressing a kid in holiday attire and surrounding them with photo props may not always convey the picture perfect moments of life in a photograph, but that when moments of life happened to be captured forever that really does make a picture perfect.

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Inside Play for a Snow Day

Tomorrow just might be a snow day for some of you.

I don’t have to worry about that. My kids don’t ride a bus. They don’t go off to school. They just stay home for school (I love that).

Every snow day I see moms posting about how they are being driven crazy by their kids who were underfoot all day. I hear that they have bored kids that make messes, whine and then complain again about how bored they are, then make more messes while  fighting all day with their siblings seemingly driving their mommies up a wall or into a padded room somewhere.

So I got to thinking, “what can you do on a snow day?”  Something easy that takes no prep time but will keep the masses happy and busy. Something that has kept mine busy and playing within their imaginations for long (well long for short attention snap having children) stretches.

Paper Snow Flakes …DSC_0739

The kids and I made the ones in the picture above  a few months back. Look at them closely and you might  find some made of a ballerinas up there.

I remembered how fun these little beauties were to make when I was in school so I looked them up, refreshed my memory, and we made a blizzard! I didn’t need anything we did not already have in the house. It just required some paper and scissors. It was EASY.

Once I taught them how to fold the paper, where to cut and where not to cut , I kid you not, they made them for days. Not only that but  this is one of the go to crafts for a few of tmy little one that helps  to quell their boredom, no coaching needed.

There will be a snow drift or two under the table when they are through but its paper. It sweeps.Cleaning the mess gives  them something else to do for five minutes (bonus).

Check out this link for an easy step by step-

Oh… Not enough paper in the house? Try coffee filters or cupcake wrappers you have in the cabinet. I find  they actually fold more easily into the cone shape needed to cut out these cute little crafts than paper.That of course makes less work for Mom and more the kids can do for themselves. Then everyone wins. No one whines!

Happy Snipping .

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Who Inspires Our Children?


Almost every day I see quotes from Marilyn Monroe plastered all over social media.  Quotes from other “stars” who were gone before their time also litter the walls of teens and adults alike, but this time I want to simply focus on the ones from  Ms. Monroe. The girl the world grew to  admire because she came from nothing and ended up a star.

Beautiful, yes.

Famous, of course.

Iconic, as a starlet, more so than almost any other I can name off the top of my head, yup.

A woman whose cute little quips we should live by? No Way, people.

Let’s just start by looking at some of the things for which she became infamous. Sure she came from not the best of circumstances and “made her way” up in the ranks of stardom, but at what cost? Really where did she end up? Did she have a life you would actually want to live?

Her life was littered with illness, personal problems, and a reputation for being completely unreliable, not to mention she was said to be an extremely difficult person with whom to work let alone just be around. Her affairs with the very rich and famous may or may not have contributed to her untimely death and the abrupt end of what she might have eventually been. Conspiracy theories abound on her death but the overdose of barbiturates that killed her was officially classified as a “probable suicide.” I don’t think that is the life any of us would aspire to live.

So is she someone you really, truly want to emulate? I’m thinking not. She makes a great Costume for a party (I speak from experience) but not so much a great model for living your life.

Here are a few of the more famous frequently posted quotes that we attribute to Ms. Monroe.  Quotes girls post with musings of how they want to  live freely like they imagine she did.   These are some, just  some of the ones that in that context  bother me-

“I’m selfish, impatient and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle. But if you can’t handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don’t deserve me at my best.”

Now, is that really who you want to be? Is that the girl you want your son to marry? YOU don’t deserve me, yet I can act like a spoiled brat and WILL expect for you to still put up with me, and take care of me and spoil me some more. Yeah, I’m just that awesome! That’s ridiculous!

”We should all start to live before we get too old. Fear is stupid. So are regrets.”

Sometimes if you think about any possible regrets an action might cause, you can have the opportunity to grow old. She never got that chance. The chance to see what growing old could be was missed, because she was afraid if she didn’t do something, even if she thought she shouldn’t she might regret it. Ironic? MMMMMHMMMM.

“If I’d observed all the rules I’d never have got anywhere.”

If she had observed a few more of the rules, perhaps she would have gotten a chance to go everywhere before she went to an early grave.

Now, I am not saying that she could have been perfect. Y’all know I am not and never was, but I am saying, these particular quotes are the ones that float about with a legendary purpose for “empowering” women. How empowered does living in turmoil and addiction and relationships that don’t even belong to you make one feel? That , my friends doesn’t look like freedom to me.

Was it her fanciful ideas that gave her a life so beautiful that she was  ”empowered” enough to have lived so well that she thought her life was worth nothing? So much so that she ended it herself?  Maybe.

WE have to be extremely careful about following the example of the famous, simply because they are famous.  Turning imperfect humans into our idols is nothing but dangerous.

I was laughed at for not letting my daughter watch Hannah Montanna, or pour Lindsay Lohan movies into her head. Snickered at too, for not letting her listen to “regular radio,” where Katy Perry began her Secular career.  I have been ridiculed for not allowing “regular TV” in my home anymore either. I actually did think about what would happen if they idolized these girls who grew into young women we now pity  and decided not to  let them hang their poster on their bedroom walls or follow them.

Should I now ask  all those who thought I was a loon if,  in retrospect,  Miley Cyrus and Lindsay Lohan and Katy Perry are people we  would have wanted our little kids to have idolized then,  knowing the example that they set now?

Maybe if these stars had read these quotes from Marilyn Monroe they would have taken a different turn-

“ Hollywood is a place where they’ll pay you a thousand dollars for a kiss and fifty cents for your soul. I know, because I turned down the first offer often enough and held out for the fifty cents.”

“A sex symbol becomes a thing. I hate being a thing.”

“I’ve never fooled anyone. I’ve let people fool themselves. They didn’t bother to find out who and what I was. Instead they would invent a character for me. I wouldn’t argue with them. They were obviously loving somebody I wasn’t.”

Now, the young stars I mention are still growing, and we all make mistakes, and my point is not to tear anyone in those tragic shoes apart, or belittle those who take a quote at face value while trying  to make it a part of who they are. As I have said before, I am so glad that all of my youthful ignorance was before social media took hold of our lives and there were no cameras following me around, it is just too bad our kids, these kids,  are not so lucky. My point is we have to teach them. We have to point out the real life behind the fairy tale. It is just one of our jobs, as parents,  to point out that when you idolize a person, or even just what they said, that the ideas don’t always  work out as romantically as our kids might have imagined in their dreams.

Sad, but true.

Keep smiling, because life is a beautiful thing and there’s so much to smile about.”
― Marilyn Monroe

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I Am Not Laura Ingalls

I don’t think there is a day that goes by in the life of a homeschooling mom when she does notthomasdyl 231 feel like she failed.  I can say this in all confidence because not only do I live it but I get messages from other moms in the same position and hear it in person on lots of occasions when we happen to leave the house ;)

We may start out feeling like we are ready to conquer the world and end up feeling like we can’t conquer the next two minutes without crying our eyes out and ending the day in a puddle filled with every single dream of all of our children that we have drowned with our utter impatience and selfishness. Or maybe that’s just me, but either way, it is a totally true story.

When a kid fails I feel like I have failed them, myself, my husband, the dog, and maybe even their future spouse, children and grandchildren. Oh yeah and of course  their pets will someday suffer from my failures as well. Yeah, it’s a lot on my head.

See, I have all these different little kids that are in different grades with different needs and abilities and learning patterns and they have hearts and feelings and little baby brothers and sisters that need to be fed, and all these things in the house that are daunting me and then there is package that is coming, and the class we have tonight and stuff to take to church and more laundry but first we have to get through this last page of Dick and Jane and we have to do it now…. Now….. NOW ….. Because we have to hurry and I AM NOT LAURA INGALLS!!!! Then…. Yeah, I failed. I failed in teaching them well, I failed in self-control and I failed to get the socks matched and I failed to be a good example and I failed in making it what I knew it would be when I first roused them from their beds not so many hours ago.

I failed.

When the kids fail I tell them it is so that they can better learn to do things a different way. When they fall short I tell them that they get to start over again tomorrow. When they beat themselves up and don’t want to try again I reassure them that they are loved and that in no way does one small defeat define anything they are, will be or can become. I do all of this, in the moments when I haven’t yet gotten to the point where I feel like I have indeed failed!

If I could only extend that to myself.  If only I could look at the dusty mantle and the laundry on the floor and see a way that it can help me to learn to do better tomorrow.

I think maybe it feels so much like the end of the world when you think you fail your kids because the only reason you or I or anyone would do this is because we never want them to feel like we (or maybe I am projecting and it is just me) feel when we are in the dream drowning puddle- miserable. We know what and how we want them to learn, but it doesn’t always work out that way.

I would like to be able to as easily point to all of my successes during any given day as I do toward my failures. I am working on that. I know what I am doing is for reasons I some days lose in the forest of my imperfections, but I pray that in the end the kids have the joy of having been loved wrapped up in their thoughts of ABC’s and 123’s.

On bad days, though, I still only see them remembering my every cross word or scowl or outward frustration. I see them not learning enough or thinking I tried to cram too much in one day, one week, one hour. I see all the things that could be viewed as failure in small glimpses everyday. I think I magnify the bad in my little head. I think If I have less of those days they will have less of them to remember.

Until I miraculously become perfect, I will try and remember that a failure today makes room for improvement tomorrow. I will try to remember that, like I tell them, a piece of art can never be a loss; you just keep working until you once again see beauty in it. I will try and remember that grace is also mine and that, indeed I am NOT Laura Ingalls.

I need more coffee.


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Really, I Don’t Know Any Better

Often, I see people disgusted with the horrid behavior of little kids. Let’s face it, kids are going to misbehave and make mistakes. That is after all how they learn. 

I  find myself more often disgusted with the behavior of parents, myself included. I can’t bring myself to get over the bad behavior of Parents and move away.                                      I have picked up a kid right out  

DSC_0362 of the cart of  a parent  who was taking swings  and throwing F-bombs more than once, more than twice.. Ok, enough to know that one day I will probably be shot by one of these “parents.” But seriously,  If I child learns a behavior or a misbehavior it is really our fault as parents is it not?  It isn’t the fault of a 5 year old that no one ever taught them how to behave.

Now there are stubborn kids, yes I have a few, but there are also kids who are not being checked at all . Kids who walk all over their parents and siblings alike and you see it. Out in public, running around like little natives in a totally politically incorrect 1960′s movie they are screaming,  dancing,  throwing and practicing almost perfect defiance.  This is how they learn to cope, to get through and get their way. Because when you are born, all you know is you are hungry and need to get your way. When you are one all you know is you have wet pants and need to get your way. You learn to survive by “getting your way.” Then you see the parent who has no idea how to relate to their own child or what they need or how to cope trying an obviously never tested tactic to curb  said behavior. It is a circus.

Now, I include myself in this because I too have been a victim of some new over the top behavior and haven’t known what to do therefore making a mean face and throwing an idol threat or two only to give a minute of peace to  reestablish in my own brain that Mom needs a time out to assess how I have been paying attention to the needs of these kids and why they got one over on me…again. If I have to ask myself, “who is this child,” I have simply not been paying enough attention. I do, however get that  swings and F-bombs don’t help so If you ever see me at the store crashing carts and screaming,  know I welcome your help.

For me the head to head with a kid usually happens in public  because a kid knows that if they don’t want to be there the best way to leave is to make Mom take a leap off into crazy-ville. Trust me people it is a short leap.   

What I am saying is that kids get a bad rep. Don’t glare a at misguided kid. You are welcome to shoot eye daggers at a terrible parent. Oh, I need to take that back… Let’s say it this way,  though you may want to shoot eye daggers at a parent and give the don’t-you-dare-stare to a kid remember that it is very likely neither of them has been taught any better, yes even in adult hood. If this is how they grew up and this is what still surrounds them, they can’t see that it is toxic.  And if our example to them is just to be mean and display anger at the sight of them in our store or restaurant or our space in anyway shape or form, we are not helping. 

Along with picking up a few kids, I have befriended some arm-yankers-of – the -world , exchanged phone numbers and have even become  facebook friends with a screaming mom or two right in the middle of the store. Sometimes someone gets more out of you asking if they need help than they could ever gain by you yelling at and behaving toward them the same way you would shame them for behaving toward their child. There are moments when  you just have to look at the sweet little  dirty face of the screaming kid and imagine them saying, “really, I don’t know any better.” Give them grace and give them a hand.

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