Parenting Archives - Page 6 of 7

August 19, 2016 by Kristina Lunde Leave a Comment

Vacation-busting Blizzard and Airport Games

Once upon a time, Mr. and Mrs. were on their way to a much-anticipated vacation in sunny Arizona. Below-zero, Minne-snow-ta winter temps and overcast skies would be left far behind as they flew to Las Vegas, where Mr. and Mrs. would rent a car and drive to Lake Havasu City. Or so the plan, incorporating dreams of Arizona golf and hiking with friends, was designed to work out. Firm in their resolve to be airborne before the worst of the big blizzard, due to make it’s biggest impact on their hometown, the vacationing couple smugly boarded the bus at the long-term parking lot, arriving five hours early for their flight.

The only other couple on the bus casually mentioned that their afternoon flight had been cancelled. As the conversation ensued and the other couple’s airline, flight time, and destination sounded more and more familiar, Mr. and Mrs. exchanged concerned glances. Mr. phoned the “Spunk Airlines” and was reassured that his flight was still on time. The other couple then offered their flight details, which revealed the same flight. Their travel agent had emailed them of the flight’s cancellation, but Spunk Airlines themselves had given erroneous information to the by-now-frustrated Mr.

Once at the airport, Mr. and Mrs. queried the ticket agent on delays, cancellations, and resulting options. The neighboring ticket agent was communicating patiently with a frustrated Las Vegas passenger, whose fake tan and Las Vegas-lettered, tie-dyed sweatshirt dramatized her escalating threats. A complaint to the airline, a demand for the manager, and a few expletives spewed from the irate passenger. As Mr. and Mrs.’s ticket agent re-booked them on the next flight to Vegas, the irritated passenger next to them was accomplishing the same change. Leaning over in a whisper, Mrs. gave a sideways nod and pleaded with the ticket agent, “I hope you didn’t seat us next to Ms. Crabby Pants over there.” Assured that they hadn’t been seated next to the venom-spewing gambler, Mr. and Mrs. set off to sit out the ten hour wait until the next flight.

Avoiding the departing terminal of frustrated passengers, Mr. and Mrs. took their luggage (no check-in until four hours before the flight) to the baggage claim. Mr.’s large golf club bag stood sentry over the seats they chose to camp out in. Trying to placate the oh-so-frustrated Mr., Mrs. came up with some games to play. In her perennial, parenting mode of “let’s make the best of the situation and be flexible”, she suggested two games.

The “It Could Be So Much Worse” Poker game involved taking turns identifying people at the airport whose situation was much tougher than theirs. Mrs. presented the opening bid: the mom who hurried by with four children. The mother’s purposeful but hurried affect was evident as she pushed the stroller. Inside were two little ones, the infant in a seat with a full-length, plaster leg cast. Striding close to the stroller, their colorful backpacks bobbing, were the two older children. Several feet behind was a tired daddy, pushing a baggage cart heaped high with luggage.

Then Mr. played his hand for the poker game with his idea of what was worse: he himself was so bad off because he didn’t have a cup holder on his chair. Mr.’s “poor me” bid was not even close to the missus’ bid of a harried family!

After her crushing win of the poker hand, Mrs. continued with the next game: “Blessings in the Blizzard.” Despite the obvious fact that the blizzard was causing more problems than anything good, Mrs. continued in her “mom mode,” looking for God’s blessings in the midst of the usual life frustrations, as she had for so many years tried to teach her children. She pulled out a Starbucks gift card and sent Mr. off to the Starbucks, a short walk down the hall.

Savoring her coffee treat with Mr., she identified “Blizzard blessings.” Here they were, sitting in the quiet baggage claim area drinking delicious coffee, as stressed-out passengers upstairs dealt with ticketing and delayed departures. Mr. was still grousing as he went to throw out the empty cups in the green bin. After calling out that the cup and lid were not recyclable, Mrs. saw a grouchy Mr. reach into the recycling bin to correct his ecological error. To his surprise, he pulled out a folded newspaper section with two untouched crossword puzzles – another blessing in the blizzard, as Mrs. pointed out.

Yes, there was pleasant togetherness in time expenditure as Mr. and Mrs. shared their different perspectives to complete the crossword puzzles. But no, this story does not have a very happy ending. The day went on with waiting, delayed flights, more waiting, cancelled flights, more waiting, overbooked flights, and ultimately, a cancelled vacation.

But “It Could Be So Much Worse” Poker and “Blessings in the Blizzard” are two games worth playing again.

(Originally posted February 2016.)

February 9, 2016 by Kristina Lunde Leave a Comment

Bible Memory Verses and Preschooler Distractions

As we reviewed the memory verse during our Wednesday night AWANA lesson, Amelia, one of the three-year-olds in my Cubbies group, blurted out, “I’m going to color you.”

“Let’s keep practicing our Bible verse,” I suggested cheerily, trying to distract her from taking us off the lesson topic. Amelia and the other sweet-faced preschoolers colored their Bible story worksheet as we practiced the verse.

My usual strategy is to engage the Cubbies’ preschool motor skills with coloring, in efforts to keep them on task and focused for several minutes, as we learn the Bible memory verse together. As newbies to God’s Word, the preschoolers need to have the verse broken down into understandable portions, so I discuss the meaning of the words, describe the phrases, and link the concepts together. I like to use hand motions, rhythm, sing-song articulation—whatever I can—to aid memorization. A five to eight word memory verse is challenging for preschoolers who have never memorized text before, not to mention that they are not used to paying attention for 15 minute lessons or focusing on academics in the evening.

Amelia's AWANA Drawing — Amelia’s AWANA Drawing

Soon my entire group of three-year-olds followed Amelia’s lead and started coloring pictures of me. Rather than forbid it, I tried to ignore it, as I pressed on with the lesson. It was quite comical to see the group so focused, although not on anything related to what I was teaching. Peeking at Amelia’s drawing, I held back laughter as I identified circles that represented my head, slashes of hair sticking straight out, and lines of extra appendages multiplying off the circle.

Besides the usual management of diversions, my challenge was to present the word ‘create’. A three-year-old knows the word ‘made,’ but to create, to make something out of nothing, is a concept that even we as adults find difficult to understand. The concept of calling forth something out of nothing requires a faith leap. Theorists, theologians, and scientists have dedicated entire careers to explaining the earth’s origin.

As a volunteer presenting a Cubbies AWANA lesson, my job is to present the topic and pray that these precious little ones will begin to understand who God is and how He loves them. Despite the distractions, and to my surprise, all four three-year-olds learned our Bible verse: “God created the heavens and the earth.”

May our amazing Creator God help these precious preschoolers continue to learn more about Him.

November 3, 2015 by Kristina Lunde Leave a Comment

Letter to a Mother of Little Ones

Dear Neighborhood Mom,

“Someday I’ll be able to take a leisurely walk with my husband in the morning,” you commented wistfully as Craig and I walked by the elementary school bus stop that first week of school.

Having made lunches, read the Bible, seen my high schoolers off, and loaded the dishwasher, I was glad to walk out the door with my husband and dogs. A peaceful walk counterbalanced our usual morning whirlwind of irritated-at-life, crabby-during-devotions, storm-out-the-door teenagers.

We saw your oldest son whiz by on a bicycle earlier, the radiant grin under the helmet not unlike your husband’s when he rides. As you walked your two boys to the bus stop, preschooler Elizabeth boldly tried to keep up with big brothers, all the while maintaining a clutch-hold on mom’s pants. Dear neighbor mom, your coffee in one hand and the other arm draped around Elizabeth at the bus stop with your boys, you are the epitome of a supportive mom. Your love for your kids is obvious and precious. Strolling past you and hearing your comment took me back to my harried young mom days.

I remember the loads of laundry, dutifully thrown into the washing machine early in the morning, as the rest of the dirty clothes mounded up in dune-like ridges across the floor. The dishes piled high and spills congealed on the counter waiting for me to clean in my “free” moments, as little ones demanded help and guidance getting ready for school. Brushing hair, wiping milk off of sweet little faces, and grabbing backpacks was all part of the rush to leave. Toys lay strewn across the floor, dropped mid-game in the hurried frenzy to get everyone out the door on time.

Household maintenance, job responsibilities, family paperwork, and all the other non-parenting duties get pushed to lower priority in the midst of the pressing immediacy of young children’s needs. Please know that this busyness is a season of stages and challenges in life that will change. Someday you will again sleep in, have uninterrupted conversations with your husband, and be left alone in the bathroom!

I used to hate it when older women told me to savor this time of young children “because it passes by so fast.” I remember one woman chased me down to speak those words to me as I held a baby in one arm, balanced a tantruming toddler and a diaper bag with the other hand, and tried to open the car door. It had been a long morning and a tough wait for a pediatrician appointment, and I needed to get the saturated-diaper baby and starving toddler home. I know I growled at the woman, if not literally, then figuratively with a dismissive comment. I resolved then to never say anything like that to other young mothers, even on the chance that her words would eventually prove true.

Instead, I want to encourage you in your mothering. Someday you will have the luxury of completing breakfast chores while older children dress themselves. They will learn to brush, groom, and toilet completely on their own. Hard to imagine from where you are parenting now, I am sure. This morning, I read from the Bible as my teenagers foraged for their own breakfast – a level of independence I never imagined when my kids were your kids’ age. Your hard work will pay off, and they will have learned, and applied, the many lessons you are teaching them, day after fatiguing day.

Thank you for contributing so much to our community in your church and job roles, but I want to especially thank you for loving your four little ones as your main role. May God bless you with strength, patience, and parenting wisdom as you meet the daily challenges of raising little children.

September 28, 2015 by Kristina Lunde 1,252 Comments

Generation Z: Screen Obsessed

Head tilted down, outstretched palm holding cell phone, eyes glued to the screen – so lives Generation Z: the digital natives, the screen-obsessed.

Group of teenage boys and girls ignoring each other while using their cell phones at school — Antonio Diaz/2015 bigstockphoto

As a baby boomer parent, I see my offspring and their peers perpetually stationed in that pose. To me, the pose embodies the lifestyle of teen-aged postural clones whose eye contact and interactions are reserved for their hand-held devices. Are verbal conversations, interpersonal greeting rituals, and person to person time becoming obsolete? Did I waste my time trying to teach my children such old-fashioned concepts as manners, meal time interaction, and thank you note writing?

My phone calls go straight to voice mail. My words hang ignored in the air during teenage transit time. If I am noticed, I might get a reply to my text. Back in my day . . .

Well, I made different attempts to get privacy. I stormed off to my room. Or I stretched the phone cord beyond it’s curly maximum to sit behind a door. I went outside, confident that my mother would not follow me there. In my younger days, I had fun outside playing in the neighborhood or climbing a tree. Later, I would ride bike or unicycle – or sit in the yard with a friend. My teenage years may have been similarly self-absorbed, but not insulated behind a screen. In fact, we were limited to one hour of television per day – the only screen option in those days.

Life is different now. This mom used to limit screen time, but that ended when computers were needed for homework. When we added texting to our cell phone service, a much belated change compared to my children’s peers, I reviewed the monthly usage to check my children’s compliance with phone curfew limits. After we became a smart phone family last year, even limiting my own screen time seemed challenging, let alone monitoring my offspring’s. Surrendering to technology. Parental failure. Allowing my older teenagers to moderate themselves. Enabler of screen obsessions. Perhaps all of the above.

But my job remains the same even when so much else in the world changes: to love my children and commmunicate that to them. So I keep reaching out to my Generation Z, digital natives – the ones I love and feed.

I threaten to Snapchat or Instagram for visual contact with my precious teenagers, using absurd mispronunciations to emphasize my technological impairment:

“I’m going to Snappychatty you, so I can see you.”

“Why don’t you Instagrammy that to me?” (Late adopter of technology that I am, of course I don’t have Instagram. But I can joke about it anyway.)

Their groans are my reward. Ahhhh . . . I can still try to make them laugh.

[Originally posted July 2015]

September 28, 2015 by Kristina Lunde 1,109 Comments

Teenager, screens, and self-soothing

“Where have you been?

I was worried!

I called… [list of 3 people]…for a ride home.

I almost started walking.

What happened?!”

And so my daughter assailed me when I was 13 minutes late to pick her up. I texted her twice and called by phone once during those 13 minutes to let her know when I was on my way.

Earlier that afternoon, I dropped my daughter off at the clinic for a physical. Calculating that her appointment would take about an hour, I told her that I would be driving to the bank to run an errand. When she finished ahead of schedule, she texted me. My muted cell phone stayed in my purse as I spoke with the bank representative. With the representative out of the room at the one hour mark, I pulled my phone out to check the time and to text my daughter that I would be five minutes late. After two more phone updates telling my daughter that I was on my way, I later picked her up at the clinic.

There was comfortable indoor seating, there was no threat of infectious disease, my daughter was not injured or in pain, the clinic was not under siege, and she had wireless access at the clinic. As a healthy teenager, she had already eaten two meals that day.

Yet she was ready to report me for parental neglect because I was delayed in picking her up.

This was a child who learned to self-soothe. As a baby, she easily soothed herself to sleep. I did not deprive her of the chance to learn how to fall asleep on her own, provided she was fed, dry, comfortable, and not anxious. She learned independence at every step, often before I was ready to let her go. As a teenager, she is a self-assured young lady who thrives on outdoor adventure challenges. As a young adult, my daughter has mastered many intellectual and logistical pursuits. I am proud and amazed at her incredible accomplishments. Yet waiting for me for 40 minutes overall, 13 of them beyond the one hour anticipated appointment time, was too much for her.

In my day, I waited up to an hour for my mother to pick me up. If she said she was picking me up after an event, I knew she was coming. I had no way to contact her, but I trusted that she would come as soon as she could. I knew that I was important to her, but I also realized that she had other obligations. In the cold Minnesota weather, I was lucky if I could wait inside for my ride. Never did I question my mother’s schedule, what she did before picking me up, or why she came when she did. I did not complain when she came; I was just glad for the ride.

As much as I adore and prioritize my kids on my list of responsibilities, I have a life and other obligations beyond parenting. I have the right to ignore my cell phone during a business appointment. (Sometimes I turn it off even when nothing else is going on!)

I hope to teach my children how to wait patiently and pass the time without immersing themselves in a screen, but I don’t know if that is possible for this generation.

[Originally posted June 2015]