Enough Is Enough

I ran across a notice that our newspaper along with many others throughout the state are devoting the front page of Thursday's paper to an editorial on the budget impass. It jogged my memory that a little less than a year ago I introduced my family to the powers that be in the State of Illinois for the same antics that are still ongoing (you can see my post here Get It Together ). I may not have a front page of a newspaper to dedicate to an editorial, but I do have an opinion on our situation.

Governor Rauner:

You are failing. You are choosing to put your energy into fights that are going nowhere fast. You had and have the opportunity to help correct the budgetary issues in our state. You could have accomplished much in leading our state in a new direction, but instead of taking an approach that could accomplish that, you have tried to strong arm your way through. It's not working. As a Republican, you are hurting the party. As a leader you are dividing, threatening, and quite frankly using corrosion in an attempt to get your way. Unfortunately, you're proving that you too are just as corrupt as those that preceded you.

Now you're choosing to try to continue to blame state employees and quite frankly screw them for the budget issues. Let's call a spade a spade shall we? It's not the state employees fault that the Legislature failed to do their job. They failed to make a budget. They've failed for years to fund pensions. These are failures that the employees are not responsible for. Now you're failing. You're failing to compromise. The strong arm approach will in no way benefit our state. If you push to a strike, who wins? You? The employees? Those losing services? Families? No, we all lose. Swallow your pride. Realize that this isn't some trophy for you to hang on your wall or another notch on your belt of accomplishments. These are REAL people and REAL lives that you're affecting.

I realize that compromise is a necessity from both sides and I don't take that for granted. As a leader, you have a duty to set an example. To be in the forefront of situation and work for the good of all involved. Honestly your approach isn't one that exemplifies the traits of a good leader.

Members of the House and Senate:

Stop. Just stop. Stop falling lock step with your party. It's embarrassing. You're not there to fall in line. You're there to represent. Do that. Represent your constituents without fear of what will be taken from you by your party leaders. We didn't elect you to represent them or your own interests, we elected you to represent us. You're not. You're failing and failing miserably.  As a whole you too are embarrassing. You too should be ashamed of yourselves.

Your failure to reach a budget because of your pride, your corruption, your fears of those higher up than you is utterly ridiculous. You have went one entire year without a budget. You stand to have schools shut down, people laid off, and a state (which you are supposed to proudly represent) in shambles.

As an elected official, I would be embarrassed to have my name hanging on a door that I've failed so miserably to fulfill my obligations to. Your names hang on the State of Illinois as representation of the citizens you're supposed to represent. Again, REAL people, REAL lives your affecting.

At this point, I'd like to reintroduce you to the family that's going to be hurt by the failures of the elite. I introduced them a year ago, but just in case you forgot, I'd like to remind you. Again, please feel free to share with your colleagues so that they can see the REAL people that your failures affect.

Maui, age 8. She will be starting third grade this fall. She loves art, soccer, swimming, Star Wars, and playing with her sisters. She's smart, fearless, beautiful from the inside out and loves Jesus with all her heart.

Brylynn, age 2. She has just started coming into her own. She has the best personality and facial expressions that you'll ever find. She is smart as a whip, beautiful, loves Mickey Mouse, Bubble Guppies, and Star Wars Rebels (mostly because her big sister does). She's a free spirit and marches to her own beat. She recently decided that she loves to go swimming.

Aspen, age 18 months. She's a little chatter box. She loves to give kisses and is a social butterfly. She's our little wanderer. She's silly, beautiful, and sweet. She has no fear and loves to be read to much like all of her sisters. She loves playing in the sand and water.

Afton, age 18 months. She's determined. She always is on a mission and won't stop until she gets it done. She gives the best hugs, won't go unnoticed, is beautiful, and oh so funny. She loves to slide and go on four wheeler rides.

Rob, age 42. He's one of the many employees who's lives you're toying with. He's a great daddy and husband. Works hard and does more around the house than anyone realizes. He loves Tennessee Volunteers football and St Louis Cardinals baseball.

Holly, age 33. I'm the wife and mom to these wonderful people. I'm an elected official who tries hard to do the job I've been elected to do (yep, elected and choosing to do the job). I love my family, house hunting, Cardinals baseball, and being in the country.

 

We are a REAL family that your political games are hurting. There's thousands more. Look at us. Look at them. Look at yourself and decide. Decide if lining your pockets, protecting your pride and your position, and political maneuvering is really worth destroying families like mine.

 

Enough with the political games. Enough of your pride. Enough of your threats. Enough is enough. Do your job. You get paid and paid well to do what you're so painfully failing at. Get it together Springfield, we're depending on you.

She Gave Me Courage

This is hard to write about. In fact, the story I'm going to share, I've never shared with anyone before; not my husband, my best friend, or my mom. Why? Shame and fear of judgment.  However, the Stanford rape victim gave me the courage and reminder that I needed, that some secrets aren't meant to be kept. This is my story:

I was in college. I knew "Kenny." He was popular, fun, played sports, had an outgoing personality, and a head full of crazy hair. We had flirted.  One night at a party at a house off campus, we met up. We all were drinking and having a good time. That's about where I stopped remembering the fun or much of anything.

I remember waking up and being in an upstairs bedroom (I assume it was his). I remember him being next to me. I remember him getting on top of me. I remember telling him no. I also remember that not mattering. I didn't fight. Honestly, I don't know that I had the coordination to do so had I tried. I remember waiting for him to fall asleep after he finished so I could leave.

I went to the restroom before I left and hoped to find the tampon that I knew I had been wearing. I couldn't.  I remember going down the stairs in the dawn hours and trying to reorient myself with where I was so I could walk back to my dorm room. I remember my pants being wet between my legs. I remember being cold. I remember hoping I could walk fast enough that no one would see me. I remember being embarrassed at the thought of someone seeing me like that; hungover, dirty, blood soaked, cold, disoriented.

It took two day before I found the tampon that I knew I had been wearing. Thank God I didn't get TSS from it being in me for that long. Yes, two days it took for my body to expel it because someone had sex with me after I said no. I never said anything to anyone.

Blackburn was a small campus so it's not like I never saw "Kenny." We hung out with some of the same people. I acted like everything was ok and so did he. People thought we'd slept together, I never corrected them with the truth.  I've never forgotten the truth about that night though.

That's my story. Why didn't I ever say anything? There are many reasons. I felt embarrassed. I tried to justify it by asking myself "if I hadn't been drunk and on my period would I have had sex with him had the opportunity been there?" and the answer would have probably been yes. I chalked it up to me having too much to drink. Those are all problems. The truth is, it didn't matter what excuse I came up with to try to justify his actions, he was wrong. I said no.

People that know me will probably have a hard time believing that I let this sleeping dog lie. I'm more of a fight for yourself and stand up for what you believe in kind of person, not the keep things quite to protect someone else type. So why now? Why share this story from fourteen years ago now? I have nothing to gain from it.

The answer is easy and it took the courage of another person to remind me. I did nothing wrong. I have a right to say no and have that matter. I hope that by me sharing my story that some other girl/woman out there has the courage to share hers and not hold it as a secret that stirs in the back corners of her mind for years. I hope that she in fact, never keeps it a secret, but rather speaks out as soon as it happens.

I hope that boys/men hear that no matter what state someone is in, if she says no, it means no.  I hope that we can rise up as a society and not justify the actions of the one that violated someone else. I hope that we can stop questioning the characteristics of the victim and the situations that "she put herself in." I hope that we can stop changing the way we see and judge rape victims. I'm guessing that when you look at me, that's not what you see. That's not what I want you too see. But that doesn't change the fact that that's what I am.

To the beautiful Stanford rape victim, thank you. Thank you for being courageous enough to tell your story. Thank you for reminding me of my worth.  Thank you for reminding me that though I may have made poor choices that evening, it still doesn't make what happened to me right. Thank you for giving me the courage to speak out against something that I should have never kept hidden.

To the other women out there, don't be like me. Don't keep it hidden. Speak out. Be an advocate. Do it so it doesn't happen to someone else. Men aren't entitled to our bodies just because we've had too much to drink. Don't let that sense of entitlement continue to win.

It's a Sweet, Sweet Mess

Around this house summer seems to be full of firsts for us. Firsts often come with messes.

We were married in late May 2005, close enough to summer for me. Honestly, it was a mess. From fights (hello Jerry Springer), to theft (hello Judge Judy), the church catching fire (thankfully after we were all gone), and the sewer backing up into our basement the next day. Yep, it was all a mess. We seriously contemplated a fast annulment, life seemed to be easier prior to our wedding.

Thankfully we stuck it out and for the most part can laugh about those not so great firsts now. They were hard. They were a mess, but they were lessons that we could make it through the rough spots. In that mess, that sweet, sweet mess, we found a stronger love. Love that led us to some of the first that we take for granted and overlook.

Shortly after we got married we lost our dog. That was a tough loss for us. We had no children, Oliver was pretty much the light of our world. One of the first things I talked Rob into (against his better judgment) was Oliver. He taught us the hard loss of losing something you love.  It was hard to find the sweetness in that mess. There was a void. My lab that wouldn't let Rob hug me because he was so protective was gone. It hurt. Together we faced that first major loss in our lives together. It too was hard, but looking back I can see the sweetness that was us being there for each other.

Late that summer we got Tanner. The tiny little runt that we rescued, is now a seventy pound baby. He's eleven years old and loved by the girls in this house something fierce. Lovingly called Bubba by the kiddos, he's started making messes that three kids ago would have never happened.  I can only chalk it up to he went from being our only baby that got DQ ice cream almost every other night, to barely getting a quarter of the attention that he was used to. The garbage is not really a sweet mess. It does however send me a reminder that this sweet boy is only ours for a short time. Though the mess he sometimes makes isn't sweet, he is and I need to remember to throw some attention his way because we couldn't have gotten a better "Bubba" for our girls.

This past weekend we took the little kids to Tuscola and played at the park. I remember how excited Aspen and Afton were when they accomplished climbing up the big stairs and going down the slide. How excited Bry was climbing the rock wall by herself, and the huge grins that each of them had. Those are sweet firsts. It made me reminisce to those same things when Maui was little, and more recently her climbing to the top of trees and her smiles of accomplishment.

Afterwards we hit one of our favorite ice cream spots. We got each of the girls their own cones. That was a mess. A BIG mess. The twins left trails of ice cream everywhere they went, stealing hearts along the way. I loved watching how each one of them ate their cones and how much it was an indication of their personality. Brylynn is very meticulous in eating her cone, wiping her mouth after each go round, not liking the sticky feeling on her hands. Aspen dove in face first, enjoying every bite, dipping fries in her cone just to make sure it's good on everything. Afton scooped the ice cream out with her hands because she's a go getter like that. They were the definition of a sweet mess! The looks of happiness totally made that mess worth it. These firsts made me flashback to Maui around the same age and she preferred to eat her cones upside down, cone first.  Sweet messes, sweet memories.

 

 

 

The messes in life aren't always pretty (remember What I Learned from a doughnut). But I'm certain somewhere in all of this, I have the opportunity to remember that it's a sweet, sweet mess, and it's only mine for a little while. So we're going to play in the rain fully clothed, eat our ice cream upside down, and love each other through the ups and downs. Yep, it's a mess, and I'm gonna love every sticky face and soggy bottom I can...

 

 

It's a sweet, sweet mess, and I'm beyond thankful that God let it be mine!

 

 



Bigger

I remember when I found out I was pregnant with each of you. I remember the first sonogram picture of each of you. I fell in love with that sweet little pea pod and my heart grew bigger. I fell in love with each of you faster than I ever knew possible.

I looked over the other day at you Maui, riding in the front seat. Your long legs curled up beside you as you read. And it struck me. Hard. You're bigger. I knew it was happening and I remember thinking to myself "I can't believe she's doing this! Look at how big she's gotten!" But there it was, your sweet round cheeks that I couldn't get enough of have thinned into the narrow face of a young lady. Your chubby little fingers are now long and capable of doing pretty much everything without my help. Your scribbles of art are now true art. You have your own thoughts and opinions as hard as it is for me to grasp. You've gotten bigger.  Time didn't wait.

I see you, the bright blue eyes that could light up the sky and the cheeks that wouldn't stop, my Bry. You've always had your own time for doing things and your own way. I remember being worried that you'd never talk, only point. Now you say things with absolute certainty and use words much bigger than you should for your age. You can entertain yourself without me having to worry. You love to imitate your big sister and it's made you bigger. I'm pretty sure that there aren't many two year olds sitting around successfully playing board games, but you sweet child do. You've gotten bigger and it happened over night.

I remember finding out you were not one but two. The shock wore off and you were here. Aspen and Afton picture perfect. You were so tiny and I remember thinking if we just make it through this week or this month it'll get easier. Now you are both walking, climbing, and are all out dancing machines. I'm not sure where that time went. My last babies. The ones I should have rocked a little longer and held a little tighter. You're not babies anymore, you're big girls. You're bigger and it makes me cry. Not in a bad way, but in the how does it happen so fast way.

Each milestone you hit, you get bigger. I'm proud, I'm excited, I'm happy. My heart grows bigger each time. You've each taught me to grow in ways I didn't know possible. You've made me bigger in so many ways (my hips being the least of these). Every time I think I can't possibly love you more, some how you make me fall more in love, my love gets bigger.

My heart will probably always ache a little the bigger you get. It's hard for me to let go. I'm selfish like that. But you my sweet children make me prouder and happier with each step. Just know that as you continue getting bigger, you'll forever be my little baby. I'll forever look at you and see that spikey black hair and round cheeks, those baby blues and chubby cheeks, the tiny armfuls of love that I wasn't sure how to handle. Bigger? Yes. But forever my babies no matter how big you get.

A Trip To Remember

We'd been planning it for almost a year. The four of us, five days of fun in the sun. The time had finally come! Four sisters heading south of the border for some fun and relaxation. A rendezvous in Atlanta and we were outbound.

Like all things, there are highs and lows. All things come at a cost to some extent, there are ramifications and things that are sacrificed; even for the good things in life. We all sacrificed money to go. We all sacrificed time at work. We all left someone behind to hold things together while we were gone. The time had come and we were going to make the best of it. Things didn't go as picture perfect as we'd have liked. Four girls that haven't been alone together for that long in years, differences are going to pop up. However, I've made a choice. I'm not going to let the hard parts define our time together. Instead, I'm going to focus on what made this a trip to remember.

*Making each other laugh until we cried
*A sunburnt butt
*Attempting to stand on a "concrete" ball
*Successfully standing on a moss covered bird perch in the middle of the ocean
*My first foam party
*Avocado covered floppy hats
*Hair that made Monica from Friends' hair look calm
*Flamingos that may or may not light up
*Swimming 7 miles to snorkel
*Japanese food with no "yum yum" sauce
*Awkward questions that can only be asked and answered with those you love the most
*A shopping trip that we only brought about $80 total with us because we plan well
*Walking 5 miles (Heidi's estimation) to where the river meets the ocean
*Crystal clear waters
*Beautiful sunsets
*Tone deaf drunk lady singing Friends in Low Places
*More food than any person should see at once (or eat for that matter)
*Bubba cups
*Trying to get the perfect picture jumping (it's hard to do)

The list could go on and on. I learned a few other things from that trip. I learned that there is nothing as fierce as the love we have for each other. We may not like each other or the choices the other makes, but no matter what, we've got each other. We're willing to fight, to be a voice, and like it or not we're laying it all out there to each other. Sometimes that hurts. Sometimes those bridges take time to mend. The important thing is that even mending bridges, we've got each others back. There's no stop in that.

It's something that I hope my girls see and mimic as they grow. Some day, they will be the new "fabulous and fearsome four" and they will kick ass (each other's and anyone that gets in the way).  They will love each other through thick and thin. They'll put each other in their place. Because that's what sisters do. They love. They fight. They get mad. They forgive. They have ups and downs. But always, always they love each other with an unending love.

Though not everything on our trip was picture perfect I chose to remember it as a time that can't be replaced. I chose to remember it as time with my sisters that was a blast. Memories that can't be replaced and love that is unending.  I don't know if or when we'll be able to have another sisters' trip, but this one will always be a trip to remember.

Something Worth Fighting For

In life we learn to pick our battles. We learn what's worth fighting for and what's worth letting go. Some things are harder to let go of than others.

I often remind Maui when she starts missing Grandpa, that when something is so hard to let go of, you know it was special. It doesn't always make letting go easier to deal with, but it shows you the value you placed on it. Some things are gone for good (or at least until we get to heaven), some are gone temporarily.  When something returns it's up to us to determine how hard we're willing to fight for it. Some things are worth fighting for, some are not.

I'm amazed at how young the will to fight for something you value comes to the surface. Each of my kids have a way of telling (or showing) me what they want or don't want, even the twins who don't say much, get their point across and I know what's important to them because of it.  I'm equally impressed by the protective nature that each of them show when it comes to each other. Brylynn can't stand the thought of anything hurting Maui. When Rob or Seth wrestle with her, Brylynn is the first to try to stop it. To her, her sister is worth fighting for. That's something that I hope each of my girls value forever, each other.

I read an article the other day on the women rescued from Boko Haram. These women fought to stay alive in captivity. They fought to get out when people came to help them escape. Now they are being held in tent villages and unable to return to the lives they had before because they are tarnished. These women are fighting to overcome terror that I hope and pray I never know. They are fighting to save themselves, but there are very few willing to help them because of fear. These women are worth fighting for.

The women and children that are victims of trafficking, they are worth fighting for. There's a sign that hangs on the window of my office that says "our children are not for sale." No they're not. They should never be. No person should ever be forced into a situation against their will. Taking a stand for those affected by this is worth the fight.

I strive to instill in my children respect, honesty, and the value in standing up for yourself and others. Choosing to do that isn't always easy. It's often easier to try to fit in and not cause waves. I tell Maui to imagine herself in the other person's shoes and think of how she would feel if it were her.

I want my children to be respectful. I want them to be respected. I want them to know their value and that all lives are important and have value. It's not a matter of race. It's not a matter of wealth. It's not a matter of gender. It's a matter of God-given life. So if you've given respect, but you're being treated like crap, I darn well expect you to stand up for yourself. If you see someone that doesn't know their worth, help them find it. If you see someone being hurt by words, physically, or any other way, fight for them. Help them fight the fight. Let them know they aren't alone. I'd rather you get sent home for standing up for yourself or someone than you know in your mind and heart that you let someone do irreparable damage. Some things are worth fighting for. And my mama heart will be full of pride if you fight for these things.

This is a blog for my children as they grow. These are things that I want them to read and look back on and know that they valued the right things. Value isn't in what we own or how much money we have. It isn't in the car we drive or the job we have. I can almost guarantee that when I die, people aren't going to say "she was one hell of a Clerk and drove a damn nice mini van!" (If that's what you're hearing I've failed epically in the mark I hoped to leave in this world. Not to mention who really says that about mini vans?)  I find my work important and I hope that people think I do a good job, but that's not what I want to be remembered for.

So my children, below is a list of things (not all inclusive) that I hope you fight for with everything you have until your very last breath:

*Your faith-it is something that you should never sacrifice. It should be the foundation of who you are, which leads me to the next point.
*Yourself-always, always know you are worth fighting for. The person that God made you is beautiful inside and out. Never let someone or something make you devalue yourself. I hope that your father and I have taught you that your life matters, you matter, and God designed you with an amazing purpose in mind.
*Family-as you grow, you will find that no matter how mad your sisters or your parents make you, there is an unbreakable bond of love. That love is worth fighting for. Knowing that you took a stand for your sister(s) whether it be over a boy, a friend, or any other issue that may occur in this life, will give you (and your mama) more satisfaction than you can imagine. Mainly because that's your girl and you know nothing is going to hurt her, you'd fight for her no matter what. Know that each of you have each other's back. Be there. Fight for each other, there's a bond you've been given that can't be replaced and you're so blessed to have it.
*Freedom-I'm not the mama that wants you to sign up in the armed forces (because I selfishly would rather know you're safe here), but if you choose to, I will support you and be embarrassingly proud of you (fear not, I'll be embarrassingly proud of you regardless of your occupation). Our freedom is something that we often take for granted and forget that many in this world aren't even given half of the freedom we have. Fight for it. Support those that do. Fight for your right to vote and use that right. You have freedom of speech and religion. Don't let the politicians of this world lead you astray, fight for these freedoms always.
*Love-yep as cheesy as that sounds fight for it. It's not always easy, and sometimes it's downright hard. But when you find the one that will cover up your shoulder every night (even when he thinks you're ridiculous), fight for it. Fight for the one that values you and loves you not for what you can give him, but for everything that you stand for. Love isn't just a feeling, it's something that's built. When you find the one that you want to continue to build that love with fight for it.
*The underdog-the one without a voice, the one that needs protected, the one that needs help. I hope your heart has the compassion and kindness to fight for them when they can't. Do what you can to leave your mark on this world in a positive way. Helping those that can't help themselves is a fight you can take pride in.
*Your friends-not all friends are friends worth fighting for. Some relationships run their course and that's ok. If you find a friend that you connect with no matter how far apart you are and no matter how frequently you see each other or talk, fight to keep in touch. These friendships are important to keep you grounded and help remind you who you really are.

You'll find more things in this life worth fighting for and I hope you throw your passion into that fight if you think it's worth it. Never forget who you are. Fight for you, fight for God, fight for your family. These things are the foundation of who you are and you my sweet child are something worth fighting for.

Where Did All This Entitlement Come From?

I've been pondering on this question for weeks now. It seems that everywhere I look someone is screaming "I'm entitled to this!" It's not always in direct words, but often in actions and thought patterns and honestly it amazes me. Where did all this entitlement come from?

My parents generation and most certainly my grandparents generation didn't have this mind set. The mind set of those generations was hard work. Yet I've watched as people that can only afford an $80,000 house attempt to purchase a $200,000 house and then get mad when it doesn't work out because "they deserve" that house. Many times when these situations happen and the bank takes something back the people that couldn't afford the home destroy it. Really? When did you become entitled to destroy something because you couldn't afford it? I don't understand the mindset.

The same mindset that occurs with the idea that every child deserves a trophy for participation. Nope. Sorry. In real life, it doesn't work that way. When I do interviews, I don't send you consolation paychecks for participating though you didn't get the job. That seems a bit ridiculous to think, but we're essentially telling our kids the same thing by rewarding them simply for participating. I'm not saying that there's not value in positive reinforcement, but can we get off of the notion that every kid deserves to be the best and particularly if it's your kid?

Mommy and Daddy are making life too easy for their kids in today's age. Helicopter parents, yep you're a problem. Let your kid fight a few battles on their own, they'll thank you later in life. Don't pay all your kid's bill when they're an adult and trying to make it on their own. They'll quickly learn what's a priority, a necessity, and a pleasure. Not that you shouldn't help your kids some if you can, but let them learn the value of making it on their own, of making tough choices, of earning what they have.

No parent wants to see their child struggling. It's heartbreaking. It's heartbreaking to watch someone take your child's seat at their birthday party. I watched it happen at Maui's party with her friends this year. I watched her say that it was her seat and the other child respond that so and so told them to sit there. I could have just as easily went to that child and asked them to move because it was Maui's party and her seat, but I didn't. Why? Because it's important for her to decide what's worth fighting for and what's not. Her decision was to find another seat and enjoy the rest of her time with her friends because that chair wasn't that important. Does part of me wish she'd have said "that's my seat and it's my party?" Yep, but she didn't and I'm ok with that. That's who she is, not who I am.

I want to protect her from every negative comment, every uncomfortable situation, and every time she tries to find her worth in what others think of her or the way she looks. I want that for all of my girls. I want them to know the difference between getting walked on and making peace. I want them to know that they're worth fighting for because of the kind, beautiful, caring soul they are inside. I want them to know that they are beautiful inside and out. God made them that way. I want them to know their value in Him and not this world. I want them to know their beauty in the way He sees them, in the way Rob and I see them, not in the way the world defines beauty.

How do you do that? How do you not fight for them? Because you learn that sometimes they have to struggle to find value and determination. It's hard. It's hard for them and it's hard for you. But you do it. You do it because you won't always be around and they have to be able to survive without you. I don't want my children to not know the value of money because I've always given them everything they've asked for without working for it. I don't want them to not know how to resolve conflict because I've always fought their battles for them. What happens to them when I'm gone if I do that? Did I really make their life better? Or did I make them feel entitled and now they can't function in society because I'm not here to do it for them.

I can't wait to buy the book On Fire by John O'Leary. I was reading Hands Free Mama's blog www.handsfreemama.com from March 29, 2016 and she referenced this book. I was awe struck. I thought of the incredible strength of not only this man, but also his mother. How easy it would have been for her to take away his struggles, but she chose not to. Not because she didn't love him, but more so because she loved him and wanted him to succeed in life. She wanted him to have strength, character, and know the value of hard work.

We can choose. We can choose to do things for others and for ourselves or we can choose to have them done for us. We can choose to forgive even when it's hard or we can choose to hold  a grudge. We can choose to act like we're entitled to the things of this world or we can choose to work hard for what we have and value it because we worked hard for it.

We're not entitled to forgiveness, but we often hope for and ask for it. I'm amazed at how hard Maui works to make sure she's forgiven if she thinks she's hurt someone. I'm also amazed at how willing to forgive she is if someone hurts her. Every bit of me wants to tell her something witty to say back and stand up for herself. I don't. I remind her that she's a smart beautiful girl and the things others say is a reflection of their heart, not hers. I remind her that she can choose to forgive them and prove how beautiful she is on the inside or she can let it ruin her day and they win. She chooses to forgive every time. Even when it's hard. She forgives when they haven't asked for forgiveness. She has the heart of Christ. She's not entitled to it, but she's asked for it, she's worked hard to understand it, and she believes it. It's a choice. The best one.

Parents let's do our kids a favor. Let's not let them believe that they are entitled to everything in this world just because they want it. Let's not make them think that when they just start out they deserve the life you have without working for it. I had to work to get the things I have and I most certainly don't expect my children to have it fresh out of the gate, because they haven't worked for it yet. We owe it to them to instill value in them. Value in who they are, and to take care of and value the things that they have. We owe it to them to let them work hard so they know how sweet winning is. Often you don't know how great it is until you've failed a time or two. There are very rarely consolation prizes in the adult world, let's stop giving them to our kids when they participate. When we do they gain the mindset of entitlement and that's something that isn't a favor, it's a hindrance.