Dear School Guidance Counselor: My Daughter Is Making the Right Choice

Dear Miss X,

First, I need you to know that I think you’re fabulous. Parents who were already ahead of us in the high school game told us over and over that we were “so lucky” our daughter had you as her counselor by virtue of the first letter of her last name. “Miss X is awesome,” they told us, and they were right.  You are.

I know you want what is best for my Lydia, so we are 100% on the same page there. 

But I think we were on different pages in terms of what "best" looks like and where it might be found...

You know that my daughter is an A student who works hard for those grades. She's carrying a 4.0 GPA. She is dedicated, organized, polite, diligent, and respectful. Her teachers love her. She’s a skilled musician and dancer. She can do anything God wants her to do when she grows up.

And what she wants to do is work with preschoolers.

We have been advised that early childhood education(ECE) is not always regarded as an esteemed profession in our society. Friends and family have warned us again and again that “there’s no money in it.” We know some people think “anyone” can do it. We are well aware that when educators talk about the best and brightest students fulfilling their potential in the workforce and “being anything they can be,” this is not usually what they’re talking about. We’ve noticed that when motivational speakers list careers to strive for, they tick off engineering and medicine and science and law but never mention ECE.

But we also know this: apart from music and dance and family and God and friends, what Lydia loves are little children. She sees them in the grocery store and gushes about how adorable they are. She loves their little hands and their high-pitched voices and the way they pretend to make hot chocolate at the sand table. She teaches a preschool dance class, and at recitals, when she's leading her tiny ballerinas, I don't watch them: I watch my daughter. Her animated face. The way she saves the day when one of them falls down and Lydia tells them, "No big deal! It's okay! Keep going!" The group hug they all rush to give her the moment the music stops.

Of course you’re well aware that Lydia has been spending half of every school day hanging out with preschoolers as part of our area career center's early childhood education program. She has dreams of opening her own daycare or preschool someday, throwing in a few dance classes, and calling it "On Your Toes." (Which, Miss X, I am all for on account of her "Costume Corner" idea that might finally allow me to get all her old dance outfits out of my closet.)

When Lydia’s teachers ask what her future plans are and she tells them about her dream, this is what they say: "But why would you waste your time doing that? You're so smart." And I always think, "Really? We don't want the best students teaching our society's very youngest learners? Is that really how this works?"

I know you wanted her to "at least" go to the career center's "Education Academy" and pursue an elementary ed degree after high school. But Lydia does not want to teach even kindergarten, let alone a higher grade. 

My daughter loves to play and interact and pretend with 3- and 4-year-olds. She well understands that their play is their learning and that what they are doing when they make hot chocolate at the sand table is actually forming learning pathways in their brains. Pathways that might one day help them understand calculus or French or chemistry or robotics or violin.

But more than all that is this truth I wish you had the chance to see for yourself, a truth I finally had to step in and tell you myself because I could see that my daughter was too worried about being disrespectful to do it: Lydia loves working with little kids. It's how her heart beats. It's her passion. It's what she was born to do. It's what she is gifted to do. There are children who will need what Lydia has to offer. What Lydia can do is not something just anyone can do. That it may not be a high-paying power career in our culture does not make it any less Lydia's calling.

I know you see Lydia’s record and her potential, and I’m so grateful for that. But I needed to advocate for my daughter and let you in on deeper part of who she is that cannot be reflected by a grade report and any standardized test.

So Lydia is on the early childhood track, and she loves it. Her teachers at the career center love her. Her work experience supervisors love her. "Her" kids love her. And when I reported all this to you, dear Miss X, you told me, "You were right. I didn't know. But this is what Lydia should be doing, and I'm so happy for her."

Thank you, Miss X. I'm happy for her, too. Because among many other dreams I have for my daughter, I want her to be happy. And I know you do, too. It’s just that sometimes, the mom is the one who knows best what page that happiness falls on.

Sincerely,

Lydia’s mom

**This post may have been shared at some of these link parties.**

It Just Hit Me: I'm the Mom of a High School Senior

The other day, I realized—in a smack-you-upside-the-head kind of way—that my oldest child’s senior year doesn’t begin when she starts her last year of secondary education.

It began when she walked out of school on the last day of her junior year.

 

So that happened. And now the reality and enormity of this whole thing keeps hitting me when I least expect it, at moments like these…

1. I figured out on the last day of school that it was my daughters’ last last day together. How did I miss making A Big Deal about this? Next year, my oldest will have her last day early and on her own. I’ll still play “What Time Is It” from High School Musical 2 when they get home from school, but next year, I’ll have to play it twice. On different days.

2. All those “senior parent” notices flashing on the screen outside the high school? The ones I’ve been ignoring for 12 years? Now I have to pay attention to EVERY SINGLE ONE. 

3. I got weepy reading the instructions on some OTC cold medicine I was giving my teenager because I saw the “adult” dosage listed and realized I’ll soon have an “adult” to give it to.

4. I did not merely attend high school graduation parties this season. I scoped out buffet options and assessed traffic flow patterns and said things like, “Nice party…say, where’d you get all these tables and chairs?”

5. Digital cameras came out after this child was born. Where, exactly, are all those negatives of her as a baby? And does anyone even develop negatives anymore? Can we skip the poster board photo display and just have more dessert?

6. Everything we’ve been waiting to do around here until our firstborn’s high school graduation party suddenly needs to be done. Right. This. Minute.

7. The moment at the band concert and dance recital and graduation Sunday in church when all the seniors were recognized? Cannot even think about next year. (Note to self: start carrying tissues everywhere.)

8. A few blinks ago, I was triumphantly hauling my 7-pound, 5-day-old baby into the pediatrician’s office for her first well-baby check. Next month, I’ll go with that baby to her last well-child check. (See “tissues,” above.)

9. Cap-and-gown-themed party supplies on clearance? Let me get a cart.

10. Links I’ve saved recently : “What You Need To Know About the 2017–18 FAFSA”; “6 Smart Ideas for Parenting Your High School Senior”; and “7 Things To Make Sure You Do During Your Child’s Senior Year.”

On top of all these hit-me moments, I’m holding on to everything we do that might be a last: last week at the lake; last church camp; last teeth-cleaning with pediatric dental coverage.

But I’m also getting ready for so many firsts. The year ahead—the year that has started NOW—is much more a beginning than it is an ending. I’m grateful for it and excited about it.

I'm still stocking up on Kleenex, though.

Have you had your own "a long time from now is right this minute" moment? 

I'd love to have you share it in a comment or over on Facebook. 

Also, here's a tissue.

**This post may have been shared at some of these blog bashes.**

5 Ways to Feed Your Child's Faith (Without Preaching at Them)

"To some this world may seem like no place to bring up a child. And in some respects they are right. But we take that risk anyway with the comforting knowledge that it is not for this world that we prepare them." (Karen L. Tornberg in The Best Things Ever Said About Parenting)

I've come back to this quote again and again during the 17 years my husband and I have been parents.

I look at the world around us and sometimes feel guilty for bringing our girls into it.

But this world is not their home. It is not our home.

This world is the place we can meet and know and learn to love the Keeper of our true home. 

It is a place we can disrupt with God's grace.

My husband and I are far from being the wisest parents ever to be sent home from the hospital with a baby, a bill, a birth certificate, and best wishes for our utterly changed lives. But we've tried to feed our girls' faith, and so we've learned a few things about what's worked for us...and what might work for you, too, while you lead your children along the way home.

1. The priority of prayer. I know it reads like the default first entry on a list like this, but prayer is in this spot for a reason: it works. In fact, nothing else on this list will actually end up working very well if prayer is absent. For one thing, faith is what pleases God. It makes Him happy. And what is prayer but an active demonstration of faith? Because if we don't believe that God exists and that He can and will do something about what we're praying for, then why are we praying in the first place? Pray for your kids in the morning and at night and throughout the day. It's not about specific words...just do the thing. Sometimes I simply say, "God, please help." Over and over and over. 

Are you wondering what good prayer does when God's going to do what He's going to do no matter what? I've wondered, too. I'll turn to the inimitable C.S. Lewis to address that tricky bit: 

"Can we believe that God ever really modifies His action in response to the suggestions of men? For infinite wisdom does not need telling what is best, and infinite goodness needs no urging to do it. But neither does God need any of those things that are done by finite agents, whether living or inanimate. He could, if He chose, repair our bodies miraculously without food; or give us food without the aid of farmers, bakers and butchers; or knowledge without the aid of learned men; or convert the heathen without missionaries. Instead, He allows soils and weather and animals and the muscles, minds and wills of men to cooperate with the execution of His will...It is not really stranger that my prayers should affect the course of events than my other action should do so. They have not advised or changed God's mind--that it, His overall purpose. But that purpose will be realized in different ways according to the actions, including the prayers, of His creatures."

2. Music that matters. What goes into your child's ears goes into their brain. And what goes into their brain goes into their heart. And what goes into their heart comes out of their mouth and hands and feet. (For more on this, check out "What Are You Listening To?" over on my much-neglected second blog, Sweet For Your Soul.)

Christian music has exploded since the days of Petra and Amy Grant (God bless and thank 'em). There is something out there your child will like. And even if they fight you and your "suggestions," listen to good stuff yourself. Have it playing in the background of your life. You never know what might stick. Here are some of our family's favorites for all ages:

• Anything by Go Fish. Their motto is "music for kids that doesn't drive parents crazy," and it's the real deal. The first time I played one of their CDs in the van for my adolescent-aged girls, they both said immediately, "I want every one of these songs on my MP3 player." (Yeah, this was a few years ago.) But it's music for moms and dads and toddlers, too.
• Hawk Nelson. Get their Diamonds CD. Just get it. (No, I am not being paid to say that.)
• Lauren Daigle. Where to start? Maybe here: Lauren's weaving of Scripture and Biblical truth into song lyrics is awe-inspiring. To say nothing of the fact that her music is just plain killer.
• Hillsong Young & Free. Highly recommended by my tween.
• KB. Rap. Hip-hop. I'm not going to listen to him, but my girls love his "stuff" and tell me their guy friends do, too.
• Kristene DiMarco. Worship music, emphasis on the gorgeous.
• The Story. From creation to the second coming, this is the Bible set to music that somehow manages to capture the essence of the truth behind each individual story. Worth it just for Peter Furler-as-Daniel's full-throttle scream at the end of "No Compromise."

3. The Word and words based on it. Whether you've got a toddler or a teen or a child in between, someone's written a devotional book or Bible study for them. 

• Got younger kids who love sports? Try The One Year Sports Devotions For Kids. 
• Got tween girls? Check out The One Year Devos For Girls.
• Got a teen who's attached to their phone? Download the YouVersion Bible App. 
• Got anyone with a pulse? Get your hands on Sally Lloyd Jones' The Jesus Storybook Bible in any of its many forms and on Thoughts To Make Your Heart Sing, also by Lloyd-Jones.

4. Media with merit. I was late to the Facebook party because I have a very boring life and didn't think people needed to know I was making macaroni and cheese for dinner. But I jumped into the pool so I could create a group page for my Bible study sisters, and I haven't looked back. My initial reluctance about social media notwithstanding, I'm so thankful for connections my girls are able to have with Christian friends and with faith-building resources that go way beyond the flannel graph I grew up with. (Because, old.) From websites to Christian mentors, there's something to be said for someone who talks faith in your child's language and is--no offense--not you. Check out these field-tested, faith-feeding resources. (And by "field," I mean "our house".)

• What's In The Bible? I grew up going to Sunday School every single week. I went to VBS and Christian summer camps and private Christian college. I've facilitated women's Bible study for 10 years. And I am so grateful for every bit of it. But I learned more about the Bible from watching these DVDs than from all of the rest combined. Not because the rest is so bad but because this series is so good. Truthful teaching that's high-quality, clever, and creative.
• Project Inspired. "Created for Christian girls to show how awesome God is." My daughters are crazy about this website.
• Adam Cappa. He's categorized on Facebook as a musician/band. But his Scripture quotes, dating advice, spot-on direction about seeking a mate, and other bits of wisdom for "ladies and gents" go way beyond music. 

5. Body building. I'm not talking about weight training. (Although, note to self: do more of it. You're not getting any younger, honey.) I'm talking about the way the body of Christ--your local church--can encourage, pray for, lead, guide, direct, and model truth about life with God. 

You can tell your son or daughter something about faith or God or the Bible a dozen times and get nothing more than "uh-huh," only to have them hear it from a Sunday School teacher or youth group leader and come home talking about it like they've just had their own burning-bush moment. Which is fabulous. 

My girls have been in church almost every Sunday since they were days old, and our branch of the body is crazy about them. They pray for them and cheer them on and ask about their lives and generally show them what community in Christ looks like. 

I know intertwining your life with a local congregation is messy and tricky and often disappointing. It's a lot like, you know, the rest of life. But somewhere out there is a local church that is right for your family, where you and your children can teach and be taught, serve and be served, love and be loved. Not a perfect church, but the right one for now. Finding it will be worth it.

A bunch of years ago, when my youngest daughter was about four, she witnessed me mourning the demise of the cane seat in the chair I use at my computer. The cane had simply worn out and broken through. (I tried not to take it personally.) My daughter heard me complaining about this sad development and drew me this picture:

Translated from her preschool phonics, she wrote: "I'm sorry about the seat. But that's not the importantist thing, because God is." 

There are lots of important things in my girls' lives: our family, their friends, their education, their passions and pursuits. 

But feeding their faith helps us and them stay focused on the importantist thing. 

On what is eternal and true and on what, one day, will be home.

**This post may have been shared at these blog bashes.**

How to Encourage Your Introverted Child

The tricky thing about being an introverted homebody in an extroverted, social society is that you really need to be part of a support group, but then you'd have to leave the house and be around people.

As a passionate introvert, I'm so thankful my sweet husband and daughters are willing to be my built-in, live-in support group. (I pay them with chocolate-chip cookies.)

If you're the parent of an introverted child--especially if you are an extroverted parent--here are a few things you might want to consider editing out of or adding to your conversations with your son or daughter.

"Come on! You'll have fun at the party once you get there." Please try to understand: "fun" and "party" are often mutually exclusive terms for introverts. 

This is not about disliking people or being rude. It doesn't mean the introvert cares nothing about others or about the occasion behind the event. 

This is about the DNA-determined reality that introverts get their energy from being alone. 

Extroverts are charged up by being around other people, but introverts fill their mental, emotional, spiritual, and physical tanks through solitude.

We're not talking right-or-wrong here; we're talking this-or-that.

While your son or daughter may, in fact, end up having "fun" at whatever event is looming, that is not actually the point. The dread of being in a large, socially charged setting is often the worst part of the whole gig. (And this is where you might want to clarify: if the event is a small gathering of people your "I'm fine by myself, thanks" child knows well, tell them so. Some introverts look forward to these kinds of intimate interactions.)

When you are teaching your children to live beyond themselves and prioritize the feelings of others over their own, they will often have to do what they don't necessarily want to do. Tell your child this is one of those times. Explain why they need to do this...who they will honor or bless or what milestone or accomplishment they will help recognize. But be careful about undermining their legitimate feelings by trying to talk them into thinking they'll enjoy something outside their comfort zone. 

"Don't be so shy." I'm sure you know this, but here it is for the record: being shy and being introverted are not the same thing. 

I don't consider myself shy. In fact, I love drama and being on stage and performing. I adore public speaking. All this usually leads people to argue with me when I declare my affinity for fellow introverts. What they are missing is that I love to do my act...and then get the heck out of there and go home and be by myself.

Telling your child not to be shy also implies that they are making a choice about who they are and how they feel about social interaction. It assumes your introvert can simply choose to turn on some "I love being around people" switch at will. Not true.

If you are an extrovert, can you simply decide that you like being alone and that solitude is what energizes you? Of course not. Same rules apply for the other team, too.

"Keep trying...you'll grow out of it." Your child doesn't need to grow out of their hair or eye color. Neither do they need to outgrow their introversion, because it is not a personality flaw, sin, disease, or other undesirable attribute that requires repairing, fixing, or changing. 

As they grow up in a social, constantly connected culture, they may learn to better balance their desire to be alone with the needs and interests of others. But they may never derive their energy from interaction with those others. Which is fine. Fine.

By now, you might be wondering what you are supposed to say to your child whose life motto might well be, "Please, do me the honor of not requesting my company." Based on real-life research (e.g., being me), here's what I think they'd love to hear...

"You only have to stay 30 minutes." Or an hour. Or whatever relatively short span of time is reasonable enough so as not to be rude. I can usually psych myself up for people-time if I know it has a definite end and is not going to stretch on ad infinitum. 

Telling your introverted child "you only have to stay this long" gives them a grip on the chunk of time they'll need to summon up a little extroversion from some recessive gene before they can recharge their solitude-fed batteries. 

"I know this is hard." Which is not at all the same as "I understand why this is hard." If you are an extrovert, you may not have the slightest idea why having a tooth pulled without anesthesia sounds less painful than, say, going to a family reunion. ("Look how you've grown!" and "what are you doing with your life that's exciting and impressive?" and all that.) 

But you do not have to empathize to sympathize. You only have to accept that introverted is how your child is, which makes certain necessary life events uncomfortable.

"You are wonderful, and I love you." Of course, this is what we all need: to know, via words and actions and expressions, that we are cherished and appreciated and treasured--not merely tolerated or accepted with resignation. 

Your introvert longs to know that you will support and cheer them on while they figure out how to walk the line between doing what they want and doing what will bless and encourage others. They have to be taught that life is not all about them, of course, but at the same time, they crave reassurance that you are for them and on their side.

Reassure your son or daughter that they do not have to "convert" to extroversion in order to be valuable and valued. 

Teach them that introversion is not a weakness; it is just part of their uniqueness--and that you are crazy about them just the way they are. 

Or, as only the brilliant Dr. Seuss could put it, "Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You.”