Two Kinds of the Stinking Mom Guilt

The scene stayed alive on the edges of my heart, just waiting for a reason for prance on in. It wasn't a pretty scene, but nevertheless it loved to come out to play. Play havoc on my emotions, that is. 

My son couldn't have been older than three or four. Meal times were still stressful for us even though he had graduated from Occupational Therapy and had a feeding tube in his little belly. 

I had imagined my stress level plummeting by now because surely our troubles would be behind us and typical eating would be the new norm.

After another meal time that was really, just another fidget time, I lost it. Not every mom is a yeller, but I get there quicker than I want to. This time was shriller and louder and uglier than most, causing my little guy to run for the next room in tears. 

And the picture of him crying into his hands tormented me for years. It messed with my head, it plagued me, it treated me like it's punching bag.

Until last week.

If you are a mom, you probably can identify with those feelings. Undoubtedly, you too have moments of regrets and words you would pay good money to take back. 

You too have an uninvited movie reel that enjoys reminding you of the low-lights. Perhaps it is that one child or that dark season that makes you wish for a do-over. Like a dry erase board that could be wiped blank. 

If you ever find yourself gazing at the dark ceiling above your bed, convinced that you are screwing your children up for life, you may suffer from guilt.

What is a mom (or a dad, or a normal human) to do with those feelings of guilt?

There are two very different kinds of guilt and if we mistake one for the other, we will be sad parents indeed. 

Paul words it this way:

The kind of sorrow God wants us to experience 

leads us away from sin and results in salvation. 

There's no regret for that kind of sorrow. 

But worldly sorrow, which lacks repentance, 

results in spiritual death. 

From 2 Corinthians 7

These two kinds of sorrow are the two kinds of guilt I'm referring to. 

1. One variety of guilt causes us to come eyeball to eyeball with our sin. That guilt is a helpful guilt. It is a gut check, the whistle blown on a foul play. We might not like this guilt, but we should.

2. The second variety is a life sucker. This guilt is the weight that keeps us eyeball to eyeball with our junk long after it has been forgiven. There is nothing wholesome about this brand.

Guilt produces bad feelings and bad feelings will never shake the guilt. No matter how often I revisit my bad behavior to punish myself, those negative feelings will never absolve my feelings of shame. 

Is there some small part of you that believes that holding onto those guilty feelings is the just punishment you deserve? That justice demands that you never forget your wrongdoing? 

It's easy to get sucked into that thinking. 

But first things first.

We need to identify our guilt. 

1. Is this a whistle being blown because I screwed up? If so, the remedy is so beautifully simple: repent. Repentance acknowledges the sin and decides to turn around and head the opposite direction. Guilt can do a good, good work if we let it.

We read over and over in scripture about God's response to our sin. Yes, we feel guilty but he forgives us without even a hesitation. There is no pause, no lull, no lapse. His forgiveness is quicker than immediate because he forgives us before we ever knew we needed it. 

For some lovely reading check out Psalm 32:1-5, Psalm 85:2, Hebrews 10:22-23, Romans 8:1-2, Isaiah 43:25, 1 John 1:9, Hebrews 8:12.

That first brand of guilt is not one we are so quick to talk about. And maybe that is why the guilt hangs around for so long, because it is uncomfortable to address the sin that it's pointing to. 

But it needs to happen and we moms are pretty good at doing the hard stuff. Muscles.

So now what is left? 
What do we do with the Mom Guilt that just doesn't quit? The stuff that follows our thoughts around like a stray puppy? We have got to stop petting that sick puppy.

2. Is this guilt a pure energy drain? If there is nothing left for us to repent of, than we have to call it what it is: completely unnecessary mom guilt. If we do not drag it out, showing no mercy, it will bring death. Death to our joy, death to a good night's sleep, even death to relationships. It must go!

Right here is the difference between BEING GUILTY and FEELING GUILTY. 

You can be completely guilty and not feel it and you can feel like a complete scumbag but be innocent. 

Like the great Bible preacher Spurgeon said, "Sometimes our heart condemns us, but, in doing so, it gives a wrong verdict."

He must be in cahoots with the disciple John who talks about guilt this way:

Even if we feel guilty, 

God is greater than our feelings, 

and he knows everything.

From 1 John 3

Moms, or anyone struggling with guilt, we need to recognize this last kind of guilt as a feeling. What do we do with our feelings? Or maybe the question is actually: what should we do with our feelings? (Because inhaling a bag of sweet potato chips may be my reality but not an actual solution.)

Hey friends, contrary to what some people have told us, 
Our feelings are not our boss!

They do not have to yank us around by the hair and dictate our actions and thoughts. 

The Holy Spirit is our Boss if we let him be and I know what he says about me and you and our old sins.

Don't miss this! This is so good and so important.

My guilt is removed and my sins are forgiven! (Isaiah 6:7)
God declares me right in his sight because I believe in Jesus! (Romans 3:26)
Because I have been made right, I have peace in me, not guilt! (Romans 5:1)

Hey Mom! Yes you, the imperfect one. You are not judged guilty!

Last week, God spoke to my guilty heart loud and clear, soft and kind. He let me know that he was in the ugly moment in my living room, mothering my son the whole time. He was motioning for me to come receive the healing and the forgiveness even at the very instant of my mom fail.

But the words he spoke to me were not just for me, they are for you too. And don't you know, when God speaks, we listen up.

It's over. It's done. Stop sitting in it. Stop replaying the bad.
The guilt is gone. Gone! See ya later. Adios. Fare thee well. 
Don't you dare pick it back up or stoop to pet it again. Let. It. Go.

There is no need to let guilt boss you around ever again.

You are welcome to walk through your days...
GUILT FREE!

Debunking America's Favorite Word

There are a lot of things we love here in this big 'ole US of A. This is the land of the free and the home of the brave. This is the place of opportunity.

But I'm wondering if we are rounding a bend. If maybe some things are shifting in our climate and change is waiting to happen just up ahead. 

And it has nothing to do with politics.

From my breezy front porch in the country, I'm listening to the cars speed by and I'm watching my kids ride their wheels and I'm thoroughly enjoying my place in the country and in this country. 

Maybe you feel the same way. It's not perfect of course, but it's a good life, this one we live. 

What brought us to this place? How did we end up here? Why is it that I get to enjoy an evening on my front porch and you get to enjoy a Saturday morning on your patio?

Would I be in this spot without hard work? Without the drill sergeant of the daily grind? Would you? Because we have worked hard, people. Not just at a 9 to 5, but at most everything. The relationships that we most enjoy have taken a lot of work. The character that keeps those relationships has taken a lot of work. Mastering our schedules so we can enjoy the rest of our lives takes work. 

We work hard. 

And look where it has gotten us.

Effort brings about good results.

We can appreciate that in our lives, right? We believe the effort and the struggle and the hard work is worth it because we see the results. 

We are so glad we earned that degree when it would have been much easier to party with our friends.

We don't regret getting out of bed to work that early shift that put food on our family's table.

We are grateful for the acts of discipline that keep our bodies functioning well and our spirits alive.

We really believe that the effort is worth it. But how far does that belief go?

I see this tendency in myself and I see it in parents around me. We don't want our kids to have to do the difficult. We prefer smooth sailing for them with no trouble and without breaking a sweat. 

When we hear of a bad day or of girl drama or of a swollen football injury, we say "I'm sorry, Sweetie." Because we are. 

We aren't bad parents, we are good parents. Zero great parents relish watching their kids struggle. {0} But if we want to be great parents, we must learn to watch our kids struggle with the difficult and not step in and fix it for them. 

We watch our child retake a class because of lame effort the first time around.

We allow our kids to earn their own money for their own projects.

We say no to the smart phone because we aren't afraid of how unpopular that will make our teen.

We don't interfere with the consequences our kids have rightly earned. 

And we don't shame the difficult. 

Is Easy what we really want?

If it came right down to it and a blue genie floated our way, would we really ask for every struggle to be taken from our little descendants' lives?

We wouldn't. Deep down, we all recognize one big truth:

Our kids need to do the hard things.

If a generation grows up believing that Hard is gross and avoidable, how will this place that we love change? How will relationships change? Will marriages cling together if everyone is afraid of hard work? House payments are hard.

We aren't terrible parents, we are GOOD parents. We have eyes to see into the big wide future and we love those kids enough to push them beyond just being comfortable. 

Easy, we are on to you. 

We know you are not all that you brag about being. We see through you.

And Difficult, we see you too. We have been oh-so-tempted to fire you, to give you the cold shoulder and look at you with short-sighted vision. 

But we won't. 

The hard, 

   the arduous, 

              the demanding 

     and the laborious, 

we promise not to slam the door on you when you knock, asking for our children. 

Yes, it is hard to watch them reap the fruit of their poor choices and slog through life's unfair challenges. 

But it will be worth it. For the sake of our children and their's after them. For the sake of this country and our communities, the effort will be worth it.

Difficulty produced beauty in us, and we want to see that same beauty in our children.

What hard things are your kids walking through?

Experienced parents, what good things do you currently see in your children as a result of previously doing difficult things?

Behavior Modifications that Keep our Family Sane

Do you feel extra crazed at your kid's bad behavior when you don't know what to do with that behavior? 

When you are left without a plan? 

We feel it too. Oh do we feel it.

The other night, the other SCHOOL NIGHT, we got home late. Past bedtimes for the younger ones who would feel the lack later, it made me decide to hustle. Right? I'm not crazy. This only makes sense. 

One of the youngers was instructed to slide those PJs on and brush those pearly whites. When five minutes later I found this one doing other things, my brain swung wildly for methods and old standbys and found nothing.

And I found myself angry.

When we are prepared for bad behavior, things go much more smoothly. 

Can we shake hands on a deal again? If I share a few of my family's systems of consequences, would you share your's? Parents, we need each other! Most likely, these good ideas come from another parent who once shared them with me. Because I'm not that smart. 

It's a deal then?

Here are a few of our standard procedures for bad behavior:

Yelling

Some of my kids take after me and raise their voices sometimes. Oh how I used to wish for calm, serene children who spoke in hushed tones and poetry. But alas, it was not meant to be. God and I have had some words over it. And he was right. Again. But that is another thought for another day.

Enter: The Whisper Chair.

Yelling children set the timer for five minutes and hang out on the chair, only whispering and reading the Bible storybooks stored beside it.

It works so great for us.

Name Calling

My dearest, darling Dumplings tend to throw names around. And they aren't usually of the Sweetsie Pie variety. 

The rule in our house is simple: Call someone an unkind name, say three nice things about them. And if they stall, that number goes up. 

One particular summer, we started lists on the wall with everyone's names at the top. The name-caller had to choose three nice descriptive words that were not already chosen and add them to the list. 

I think this one is losing it's scare factor for a few of my kids and I would love to hear other family's consequences.

Complaining

Maybe not all kids roll their eyes and sigh when asked to do chores, but our's do. Although much less now then before secret weapon Extra Chore.

Any negative sounds, gestures or words when asked by a parent to do something, results in an extra chore. Followed by an extra chore. Sometimes followed by an extra chore. 

If we would be super consistent, this one would totally get a 5 Star rating.

Fighting

When there is arguing and blame going on between two in our house, it is so convenient for me if they can resolve it with a chat on the stairs. This took a lot of training.

Perp #1: I'm mad at you because you looked at me crooked and held your mouth like this.

Perp #2: Gosh, I didn't even mean to. You are exaggerating hugely. I'm mad at you because you were thinking about using my stuff without even asking. 

Perp #1: Sor-ryy. 

Perp #2: I'm sorry too.

Perps: Ok mom, we are ready. Watch us dance around and try not to touch each other while we kind of hug it out like you always make us. 

My theory is more brilliant than their execution.

But when the fighting goes on and on, I pull out the best shirt in the whole house. It is a size XXL and it is bright red. It is our Get-a-long Shirt. 

When the kids have taken the squabbling thing too far, lucky them! It is time for a chore done together in this fabulous piece. Do you know how hard it is to stay mad at someone when you look absolutely ridiculous and so do they? And you can use only one arm and so can they? 

Works like a charm. 

Until your kids all hit growth spurts and the seams of the shirt just give up.

Chore Swap

Favorite! Favorite! Favorite!

So sometimes my kids "forget" to finish their work or they never start it at all. Instead of getting really annoyed, I just do their chore and let them do one of mine instead. Thank you Mr. Love and Logic.

And since mom chores are always bigger than kid chores, their chores start to look really good. 

Example: 

Son swept out the garage last week and all of the trash ended up on the edge of the yard. After the initial huff and puff, I realized it would be much easier to just pick it up. Which I did in 60 seconds. He then got to sweep the dining room floor for me which took him 10 minutes. 

Often heard in our house: "Hey, do you want me to finish your job or do you want to?"

"I want to! Don't touch my broom!"

Big win.

There you have it. Beyond the time-outs and the groundings, these are my favorite consequences to help stay sane and not feel [completely] out-of-control.

What systems do you use in your home for nasty behavior?

Let us know what is tried and true and what you are currently testing out!

Check out Love and Logic's page for ideas and concepts that will help you enjoy your kids more as they learn to make better choices.

Systems that Keep Our Family Sane

Tomorrow something wonderful is going to happen.

For most of you, this day came in August. For us, this celebrated occasion always happens the day after Labor Day. 

I am ready, oh so ready, for SCHOOL!
[Cue the confetti and applause track.]

I am ready for Schedules.
I am ready for Systems.
I am ready for the new normal.

My husband and I are always trying to come up with better systems to control our chaos. With seven savages, ranging from toddler to high school, it can get crazy really fast. 

And I ask you, what better time of year to rethink and restrategize than September?

I love hearing how other parents tackle things like laundry and fighting and so here is the deal: I will share some of our systems with you and you can share some of your systems with me and we will all become more and more brilliant and wow our children.

Of course, what works divinely for our family might be a total headache for your family. And what is perfect today might fall apart tomorrow. We have had to revamp every single system we have. 

Gosh, we parents are some resilient folks.

Here are some of our current favorites:

Towels

Anyone else find themselves staring at stray towels lying all over their house? 

Before, the answer was always, Not mine! I didn't put it there!

After a million sighs, we finally just went out and bought new towels. Since every kid has their own color, they are now so busted.

Mom's Quarter Box

The new home for things left laying around. 

Want them back?

For a quarter, they can be yours again.

All proceeds donated to charity.

Garfield comics, homework slips, lip gloss and mouth guards are welcomed with open arms into this lovely community for the neglected. The way we see it, we can either get really grumpy at our kids for their poor responsibility OR we can be completely quiet about it and use actions. 

At any time, the kids can pay the ransom for their stuff and have it back. But once or twice a year that box gets full and then we set it up like a garage sale. The kids can buy their own stuff back if they want and whatever is left is auctioned off to the highest bidder. The little ones have scored big.

The Quarter Box was a great way to introduce the Tithing Jar.

All money goes directly into a special jar that we set aside for specific projects. It started with a great organization called "Pure Gift of God" which supports families in the process of adoption started by some friends of ours. When the jar is full, we pick another project. Our latest is Bibles for restricted nations in Asia. 

Which brings me to...

Tithing

Do you ever hear yourself telling your kids the exact same sentence for the thousandth time? 

"We give God the first 10% of all of our money to remind ourselves that everything we have belongs to God."

We really do believe that. God doesn't just get 10% and we get 90%. It all belongs to him and we need that reminder often. 

So the kids can choose to give to the Tithing Jar, to our local church or toward a sponsored child. 

It's a pretty simple system and it has worked for us.

Laundry

Less simple. Less neat and tidy. Much more smelly.

After kid #6 joined our home, I realized that I was spending hours just folding our clothes every week and I started seriously questioning my laundry system.

Currently this is the way we do laundry:

1. Every Monday is Wash Day. But unlike the women of old, I never actually finish on Monday. Every kid is responsible to get all the clothes down the laundry shoot and baskets into the laundry room. 

2. I start a load.

3. I yell at a kid to switch loads.

4. The kid can never remember what I mean.

5. I explain it for the 20th time.

6. They help switch loads. Hurray!

7. They help sort loads into the appropriate baskets. Hallelujah!

8. Everyone seven and older, folds and puts their own laundry away. Joy to the world!

9. My clothes and my husbands clothes sit clean and wrinkly in a basket until said husband gets tired of wrapping a towel around his waist to dig for undies.

The hubby thinks this one needs a little tweaking.

Bedtime Prayers

Our kids have always wanted us to pray for them before they sleep and we have asked them to pray for someone else first. Our kids tend to think the world should revolve around them and we keep reminding them that other people exist too. 

Every night they would ask, Who should I pray for?

I got tired of doing all of the thinking so we came up with a plan. 

Monday- Family (In taking care of people, we can't forget our own family)

Tuesday- School 

Wednesday- Missionary

Thursday- The World (India, an unreached people group, refugees, etc.)

Friday- Church (The local one)

Saturday and Sunday they can choose whomever they wish.

We traced a hand on paper and assigned each day a finger as a visual. 

It helps us be more intentional about who we are praying for and gets the kids out of the rut of only praying for their grandmas and best friends.

Raising kids and running a house is a big job and I know you parents out there are doing your darnest best too. We are in this together! And we need each other.

Now it's your turn. A deal is a deal.

What have you found that works well for your family? 

What systems are you rocking and would be willing to share? 

Young Moms, I Know what God Feels about You

The day was sunny and warm, as was customary in the tropical country of Thailand. The grass in the yard was different than the grass my family grew at home in Ohio.  

This country was always a breathe of sweet relief to me and my little family. It meant time with co-workers who understood the passions and struggles of life on the mission field. It is a country of freedom in the middle of restrictive nations. 

Deep exhale. 

That is what this country was to us: Refreshing.

I joined other young moms out on the grass, my belly rounded with number three, hoping numbers one and two were hanging with their dad and not the local geckos. We listened to the words of a kind woman who had traveled half-way around the world to encourage us. After putting in that many miles, she had our ears.

She opened her Bible to Isaiah 40 and read some words that I had never noticed before. Probably because I hadn't needed them yet. But the season for those words and I to be besties was upon me.

The long chapter of Isaiah 40 covers a lot of ground, from Israel's Punishment Ending to God is Supreme to Wings Like Eagles. But hidden in the middle, like a sweet little cupcake, is this verse:

He takes care of his people like a shepherd.

He gathers them like lambs in his arms and carries them close to him.

He gently leads the mothers of the lambs.

Did you hear his words?

Our kind Shepherd takes good care of us. We have read that God is our shepherd in Psalm 23 and maybe that idea isn't brand-spanking new. But did you catch that last part, moms? He is not only kind and close to his people but he has something special to say to one particular group of his people: moms of littles.

He gently leads the mothers of the lambs.

 

God wants you to know that he is especially gentle towards you.

Extra gentle. 

Let those words be aromatherapy for your tired soul.

He gently leads the mothers of the lambs.

We can be plenty harsh with ourselves, can't we? How many guilt trips have you taken yourself on? How many eye rolls have you given yourself because of less-than-kind tones? Or how little you have accomplished in a 24-hour span? Or the hot snarled mess your kitchen finds itself in?

Good news! God is not mean or snarky or impatient with you.

God is gentle with you! 

His voice is gentle, his reminders are gentle, his directions are given in a gentle way. Kindness, not blame. Soft-spoken, not harsh.

I think it's because he knows the stress of raising little savages. He knows that bitty kids have big attitudes and short attention spans and over-flowing diapers. He sees the late nights and early mornings, the terrible two's and the saucy three's, the legos, tiny Barbie shoes and jam-smudged windows.

He knows. He understands us. 

And instead of head-shaking and finger-wagging, what we receive from our Parent is gentleness. 

Some of you need to sit on this and read it every day until it becomes part of your permanent view of Daddy God. The most important person in your world is not critical of you but is tender and understanding. 

That is what God feels when he hangs out with you, Amazing Mom.

So maybe you can be a bit kinder to yourself and to the next mom over.

God is gentle with you.

Parenting the First Kid vs. Parenting the Last

"You know the only people who are always sure about the proper way to raise children? 

Those who've never had any."

Bill Cosby

My Sweet and I have seven kids. Because that is the perfect number, we are going to stop. Or because we have reached our max and don't want to spend the rest of our lives on a therapist's couch. Either way, seven is our number. 

All families have their number. 

For parents with more than one kid, we learn to adjust our standards, don't we? We reevaluate our focus, our time and the final resting place of boogers. I would have been appalled at the things I now let slide. Wiping a kids' nose on the underside of her shirt? Who does that? Now I know.

Survival usually wins out. 

Here are some of the areas of slipping standards we have discovered in our 14 years of parenting:

The Dirt Factor

That first-born kid of ours was so squeaky clean. Oh my gosh. One evening some friends of ours were sitting on our blue couch watching our toddlers play when they asked, How often do you bathe your kid? We gave them this confused look and said, Every night. They thought we were crazy and now so do I. Today the conversation goes like this, Hey Sweetheart, when did Jojo last have a bath? It wasn't LAST Saturday was it?

The Germ Factor

When the firstborn dropped his cup of Cheerios on Grandma's floor we tossed them all away just in case dirt particles snuck into his little unsuspecting cup. Last week I saw my baby eat his raisins from the therapy room carpet. And I turned my head and pretended to be very interested in the posters on the wall. 

The Baby Shoes
When Baby #1 was gifted darling little shoes, mom actually put those darling little shoes on her baby. When Baby #7 was gifted darling little shoes, mom knew that they would make an excellent re-gift. To another First-Time Mom. 

The Food Factor

If Firstborn was offered any food before six months, Mama Hawk was there to scoop him up and squat the offensive no-no away. Oh no! Yogurt isn't to be started until 42 weeks. But alas, by six months, Lastborn had been fed too many foods to count. And not a very high percentage of them would be found on Baby's First Foods Chart either. That first kid didn't know what candy was until we needed potty leverage. And school parties introduced him to pop. The baby? He walks into kitchens and reaches his clammy little hands up to feel the countertops for Hershey kisses. A shame.

The Diaper Bag

When Baby #1 left the house, a raft size bag accompanied him. It was stuffed to the zipper with one dozen diapers, medicine, two changes of clothing, a pacifier, extra pacifier, an extra-extra pacifier, and a packet of formula (even though Baby #1 was exclusively breast-fed). When Baby #4/5/6/7 leaves the house, mom wonders if there is a diaper stuffed under the seat as she turns the van around for the forgotten bottle sitting on the kitchen counter.

The Baby Book

Firstborn's baby book had a prominent place on our shelf for easy access. Every few weeks, it was update time! When mom sits down to fill in Lastborn's baby book, she had better have the most freaking awesome memory in history.

The Changing Table

Lucky little Firstborn had his own changing table in his own room and a nifty changing pad in his diaper bag. Lucky little Lastborn's parents are so flexible that anything becomes a changing table. A blanket, the couch, the van seat, mom's lap.

The Potty Factor
After the first born pooped in the potty for the first time, there was jumping and hollering, candy and photos and phone calls. Three months after the baby pooped in the potty for the first time, my husband goes, Hey, does he always poop in the potty?

The Measuring Stick

After Numero Uno was measured and weighed, mom would save those papers from the doctors office and transfer all info immediately into his baby book. When someone asked how big he was, mom passionately talked about pounds and ounces, inches and centimeters and percentages. People comment on how tall Numero Siete is. Mom has a quick panic attack as she mentally reviews the clothes in his drawers and gasps in relief when she decides she doesn't have to do another overhaul to his wardrobe. 

The Blood Factor

Blood coming from Baby One = ER visit.

Blood coming from Baby Seven = tissue. 
Or napkin or paper towel or shirt sleeve.

The Mess Factor

If that firstborn managed to find something to rip apart under your ever watchful eye, it was ended quickly with a No-no Baby. When that last born is caught making a horrific mess, there is a quick-fire argument in the parent brain between Mr. Entertainment and Ms. CleanUp. Mr. Entertainment has a very persuasive voice.

Puppy costumes and caterpillar boots? That works.

Dad's boots? Worn backwards to the hardware store? Why not.

The Matching Factor

When that first kid left the house, he looked good. If he was wearing navy, no black was found on his body. Stripes with checks? Never happened. Flowers with polka dots? Couldn't, shouldn't wouldn't. When that last kid leaves the house, he occasionally has his shoes with him. Not on him, but if he digs around in the van, surely he will come up with something. The only clothing rule that applies to last borns is this: Wearing clothes is good. 

So if you see me and my slightly dirty toddler walking through the grocery store with a funky smear on his mis-matched crocs and a lollipop in his ever-smiling mouth, rest assured that I was once a good mom. 
And today, I am a happily adjusted GOOD MOM.

I'll bet you are too.

I'm Not a White Mama

Everyone has their pet peeves, right?

I'm going to tell you one of mine. Here it goes:

People over dramatizing interracial families. 

It sends my eyes directly into the very back of my brain.

There is this cute children's book, A Mother for Choco, in which a little yellow bird is looking for a mom. He can't find anyone who looks like him and is quite upset. After talking to animal after animal with no success in finding a mom, a sweet brown bear sweeps him up and loves on him and invites him to be her kid. Even though she is not quite what he is expecting his mama to look like, he takes her up on the offer and is welcomed into the family by brothers and sisters, who don't match, just like him.

It is a sweet story. I like it.

What I don't like is when people compare our family to Choco's. 

The difference between a yellow bird and a brown bear is not color. Birds and bears are not even in the same class, order or family, much less species. 

My family, we are all the very same species.

If Choco was a polar bear, he would still be a different species then his new mom. 

My kids and I, we are the same.

Think of Choco as a grey labrador and his mom as a black one.

My seven kids and I are even the same color. 

It started when I was teaching Eva her colors. We got out the box of crayons and we found Salmon, Olive, and Macaroni and Cheese. (Someone was clearly hungry while printing the crayon labels.) 

For a few weeks she was so pleased with herself as she noticed different colors around the house. When she wasn't sure about a color, we could go back to the box of crayons and double check. Thankfully my 4 year old couldn't read the labels. "It is just Pink, Sweetie." 

Her skin perfectly matched Brown. Or Sepia. Holding the white crayon up to my arm, it was obvious to her that I wasn't White. Maybe a nice Tan on a good day in summer.

And then one day, corralling my crew through Walmart, we discovered the paint sample aisle. And we discovered that my hunch was right. 

We are all different shades of the same color. 

We are all brown people, aren't we?

I do not want to negate the differences between the African American and Caucasian commuities. Throw in there Latino, South Pacific, Asian American and yes, we DO have different cultures and different histories. And our different shades and variances are to be celebrated. 

Neither to I want to poo-poo the challenges my Sepia kids will face growing up with mostly Tan classmates. There will certainly be hard things for us to battle together and our family is committed to talking about the struggles.

But I'm reminded daily, and I want to remind everyone else, that my kids are LIKE me. 

We are very similar. 

We all need to sleep and breath and eat and pop molars out through our gums.

We all need school and God and each other.

We are all created for relationship and thrive with love.

We are so much more alike then we are different.

So much more alike then different.

We are not Black and White.

We are Brown. 

Or Sepia. Whatever.