For A Time Such As This

I am the leader of a non-profit Head Start agency in our community.  Some people may think that is a daycare, but it is not.  Head Start is an agency that falls under the Health and Human Services department of the government and while we do take care of young children every day and do lots of learning activities, we are neither a school or a daycare.  We are a program that takes whole families in, especially vulnerable families, and wraps them up in services and resources they need in order to make sure these precious babies have everything they need to be ready for school.  As I type that, I am crying.

The moment I became the leader of this agency, it felt incredibly surreal to me.  When our previous Director told me she was leaving in a private meeting, tears immediately fell from my eyes, which is something completely uncharacteristic of me in my professional environment.  Of course, I had much affection for her and I can say I probably learned more from her than from anyone else in my Early Childhood career, but part of the unchecked emotion on my part was the realization that as the Assistant Director, the responsibility of the whole program was about to fall on my shoulders, at least temporarily.

I was not ready.  That was something I had only thought about in future-tense... possibly.

When I was officially made Director, I felt unprepared.  I felt like I wasn't old enough, I wasn't experienced enough... I felt like I wasn't anything-enough to do this job that feels so incredibly important to me.  The only thing is, I am passionate enough.

I tell people that all the time.  I'm not in this position because I know more or because I was the very best early childhood teacher of my day, or that I have the Head Start Act of 2007 memorized.  I'm where I am at for one reason, alone.   I'm here because God placed me here and in the hardest moments of this journey (and there have been HARD moments) when I wanted to leave, God told me no.  He told me to stay put and I promised Him I would as long as He wanted me in this agency.  I'm here because I am supposed to be here in this time and because he instilled a passion in me for this work when I was just a kid, myself.

My heart is breaking a little and I saw a post on social media from a friend telling me it is okay to "not be okay" right now and I finally allowed myself to just sit here and not be okay for a minute.  I haven't given myself time for that.  My heart is breaking because of my God-ordained passion for the children and families of our community who were already struggling and now are facing everything that comes with this COVID-19 Outbreak.  My insides have been twisted in knots for almost two weeks as the decision of whether to close our doors or not seemed to rest on mainly my shoulders.  I've wrestled with the moral dilemma of protecting our precious staff versus protecting our precious families and which decision would be the most protective of either or both of those sets of people, both of which have so much of my heart.  

Was it better to close our doors or better to keep them open?  At the end of the day we (it's never all on my shoulders, even if it sometimes feels that way.  My team of people are the MOST AMAZING.) decided the best way to protect everyone was to close and even if that is the BEST decision, it doesn't feel like a good decision.  Allowing myself to feel that right now and cry a little and acknowledge that from a personal, gut feeling instead of my usual professional, data-informed planning hat I wear, is therapeutic.  Allowing myself to have the feelings that accompany partially discontinuing the services we are all so passionate about providing to our families is probably something everyone in this industry needs to allow themselves right now.

The thing I love so much about Head Start is that when you are in this, you are in a family.  These people working in these programs, and all the programs that partner with us, have the most heart.  Occasionally someone tries to come work in this without the heart for it and they don't last long because this work is hard!  It is emotionally (and sometimes even physically) exhausting.  Those of us who are appointed to it by powers higher than ourselves understand, though, to us it is WORTH IT.  

I'm thankful to be one of the many leaders of these community service agencies scattered around our country right now.  It's a hard time to have to make decisions, but it is a great time to be surrounded by the kind of people who work for us.  Our staff are still being paid and we are pulling together to do everything we can to reach our families.  Teachers are reading books online, Family Advocates are taking meals to families without transportation, staff are volunteering to work the phones to be available if our families need us.    I know I am right where I am supposed to be, and I know we will all be "equipped with everything good" (Hebrews 13:21) for doing this work.

To everyone out there who is facing this same struggle as we make these hard decisions or as hard decisions are made for you, allow yourself to feel those feelings for just a moment.  Acknowledge your worries and fears, but don't let them take hold of you and drag you down.  We still have work to do!  I was made to be right here at just this time in history, and so were you!  And, we will get through this... Together. 

I Already Know

I made it through first day of senior  year without a tear.  It is just September, I know, but I've  been  proud of myself so far.  No tears on the last school picture day - no tears on cap and gown order day.

My  eighteen year old just walked out the door for school and said, "Bye Mamma.  Love you."  And, that, my friends, almost melted me in the fetal position in the floor.  It just hit me some kind of way this morning.  Sure, I'll miss those once a year school picture days and next year if she is not in the first day of school picture (if I know her, though, she'll be in it!) I will be sad.  But, I already know.  I already know those are not the things that will break my heart when she leaves.  Those are not the things I will miss the most.  

I'll miss hearing "Mamma."  I'll miss the casual goodbye as she walks out the door.  I'll miss her coming in from the day and telling me the latest thing that has happened.  I'll miss walking in her room to ask if my outfit is okay.  I'll miss walking by her room at night and seeing her in her bed with a pillow over her face.  I'll miss her clothes in my laundry hamper.  I'll miss her coming and plopping down on my lap when she's had a particularly long day and needs me.  I'll miss her being in her spot at the dinner table and I'll miss her lactose free milk in the fridge.  

She is my first.  I don't know why I started thinking about all this the moment she was born.  I immediately knew that someday when she left me it would feel a little like having my heart ripped out.  I just did not realize how quickly it would come.  

I held her too much when she was a baby.  I let her sleep with me for too long.  I made her plate for her for too many years. Too many times I set aside my housework to play with her instead.  I don't regret it one little bit, though.  Because, even back then, I already knew... I knew there would someday be a "Bye, Mamma" that would take a huge piece of myself right out of my home.

To the Seniors

Dear High School Senior,

I had a shoe box in my closet growing up and it was full of pamphlets and info (much of which I'd sent off for - remember I didn't grow up with the internet. Ha!!) about various issues I was highly concerned with. Endangered species, wild flower preservation, rain forest conservation, etc. I was the kid calling to pledge $5 to the telethons on TV and I wrote more than one "letter to the editor" as a child. At under 10 years old, I followed the situation in East/West Germany and the fall of the Berlin Wall with intense concern. I was so ecstatic when it fell and I desperately wanted a piece of the wall to commemorate the occasion. (My husband, who is exactly my age, has no recollection of this event from 4th grade.)

Am I telling you this because I want you to know I was born an outstanding citizen of the world? Gosh, no. For Heaven's sake, I sometimes look back at me as a child and want to tell myself, "Would you just chill out and let the adults worry about world hunger and the hole in the ozone??" I'm telling you this to explain to you that everyone is passionate about something!

You are about to go make decisions about what you want to do with your life, and this is NOT the most opportune age or time in your life to have to decide what you want to do forever. Sheesh! Most of you have barely experienced anything, really. You're still figuring yourself out. Picking a college or trade school, declaring a major, and deciding on a field of study are all major decisions!! Looking at you all from this vantage point, here is the best advice I can give you: if you choose something you're passionate about, something you love, something you believe in, then going to work every day won't feel like going to work. It will feel like fulfilling your life's mission.

What excites you? What makes you tick? What interests you? If money is what you are passionate about, then pursue that! Focus on the salary, by all means, because that's going to drive you!  Money motivates me least of all, so it's probably no surprise I'm working in a non-profit, education based agency!  If you love creating things, then figure out how to make a career of it.

The other night I was at a fundraising event for cancer research and my sister saw a picture of me on social media. She texted me to tell me I looked like I was glowing. I thought about it for a minute and then decided, "Of course I'm glowing!" I was taking part in something bigger than me, a cause, that would benefit humanity in a positive way. (Not to mention I also had my husband and kids joining in with me!) I was in my element, I was doing what I was made to do.

Lucky for me, I work in an agency where every single day I'm playing a part to change the trajectory of people's lives. That doesn't mean that every day at work for me is all sunshine and roses, but it means every day I go to work on a mission. I'm fulfilling my passion.

You see, you have to pull that proverbial shoe box out of your closet and try to narrow it down to your most prized pamphlet. And, that is the answer to what career path you should follow.  It may not end up looking exactly like you think. My plan to be a child psychologist has ended up as a career in Head Start administration and training adults in early childhood best practices! Your passion for sports may not end you up as a professional ball player, but maybe you're destined to be a sports analyst or for a career in sports medicine! Find a way to channel some of your favorite things in to a way to make money, and you're going to be pretty​ happy in your career!

In the wise words of the Postman (my Dad), "You're going to spend most of your life working. You might as well do something you WANT to instead of something you HAVE to do." (He also told me college isn't a race. But he may regret that advice now!! Ha!!)

But, the most important thing I can tell you is this: listen to what God is telling you. He has already worked out a perfect plan for you and He will direct you exactly where you need to be.  God has instilled specific passions in you for His specific purposes! There is nothing quite like the contentment of knowing you are right where God wants you.

I keep my eyes always on the Lord . With him at my right hand, I will not be shaken.  Therefore my heart is glad and my tongue rejoices; my body also will rest secure,  because you will not abandon me to the realm of the dead, nor will you let your faithful one see decay.  You make known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand.

Psalm 16:8‭-‬11 

Dear local business owner:

Dear local business owner, I want to take a minute to express to you just what you're teaching my children by supporting their livestock projects.

The times I've tried to explain the workings of livestock showing to someone who isn't "in it!" I give a long explanation, then they usually kind of nod and smile and I know they still don't really understand. I think some of the biggest confusion stems around what we call our "premium sale" or "sale of champions" at our County and Regional shows. It's always our big goal to "make sale" at these shows. What happens, beyond just celebrating and showcasing their animal, is each exhibitor goes in the arena and their animal is "auctioned" to the highest bidder. However, these bidders aren't bidding to actually buy the animal, they're competing to donate money towards the exhibitor.

Are you asking why on earth anyone would do that? Well, that's what I want to explain. Of course, it's good P.R. Beyond that, though, it is really an investment in the future of our communities. You know, sports are an awesome tool to teach kids about teamwork, hard work, discipline, etc. I grew up playing ball and was in a sports family. Two of my children play sports and I fully support that environment and all it teaches kids. However, I'm here to tell you I've yet to find anything that even remotely compares to the way livestock showing is preparing kids to enter real life and the business world! Here is what you're teaching my child with the money you donate to them:

You are teaching them about investing. The money you donate goes in a savings account and my children use it to reinvest in their project for next year. It goes towards buying another animal, feed, supplies, etc. This money is not spent on video games, designer jeans, or accessories. My children are learning to designate certain money for certain things and so far they've learned as they work hard and are diligent, their endeavors pay off more each year. But, they also are learning investing has risks. You may buy 3 pigs, but only one turns out. So, you make the tough decision to focus your energy and time on the one endeavor that is going to be most lucrative even if it wasn't what you thought in the beginning. Tough choices and dealing with disappointments - just like the real business world.

You are teaching my child to keep business records. My kids have to keep track of their income and expenses with their projects. We collect receipts and they keep record books. Sound like real life? They see the real income versus expenditures of this project and know the money you donate to them is precious and has to be dealt with wisely!

You are teaching my children to network. When you "buy" their animal we are instructing our children to go to you with their thank you basket and express their gratitude. They have to find buyers before the sale and are learning to use connections in the community. We pay attention to who supports our kids and that is where we do business. They already understand the importance of being connected to their communities.

You are teaching my children about the importance of how they conduct and present themselves. You'll find these kids in the ring with official dress on - jeans pressed, button up shirts (tucked in!), Official jackets, etc. They are learning that, while it's not everything, appearances matter in the business world. 

You are teaching my children to give back. They are being raised in an environment where so many people have helped them and supported them. They know the importance of giving back and they know first hand the profound difference it can make. It is my sincere hope they follow in your example someday when they're in the position to do so!

The biggest thing you are teaching my children, in particular, is hard work pays off. My children are not perfect, but their work ethic makes me proud. They spend every single day on these projects. They get up earlier than most kids do to feed an animal that is totally dependent on them. My son chooses to go to a camp every summer consisting of 4 days of grueling hard work with cattle so he can get better at what he does. My daughter who is barely 8 and not even able to show at our big shows this year wanted a hog and got up early every single morning to feed it. She cleaned pens, walked, and washed. My 16 year old voluntarily spends so many weekends a year at livestock shows versus out with friends like most kids her age.

The day of the sale, they are worn out!! It's right after a long week of showing but they get up and arrive at the barn by 8:30 am to help set up because they understand responsibility and that they need to be involved in the work that goes in to this event they are directly benefiting from. The arena needs to look a certain way and they know you have to get up and take care of business sometimes even when you're exhausted!

The bottom line here is my kids are not unique in these ag barns. This is the norm. And by investing in these children, you're really investing in the future. These are the kids you are going to want sitting across from you one day in a job interview. They leave high school with such an unrivaled sense of what it means to be able to succeed in the business world. If you think about it, many of them have basically been running their own versions of small businesses since they were in middle school!

Thank you for supporting these amazing kids and thank you for helping us teach them these life skills that will follow them for the rest of their lives. Thank you for investing in the future of our community and our state!

In Memory...

There's not a single selfie of her and I on my camera roll. We weren't those kind of friends - not the kind who "hang out" on a regular basis or go to lunch. We met through our husbands when I was still just dating mine - about 11 years ago now. She was one of the first people I told when I found out I was pregnant with my daughter, since she'd gotten pregnant with her daughter just months before. She had jokingly told me I needed to have one, too. I hadn't really meant to follow suit, but it happened, and I had no idea then how intermeshed our lives would end up. 

I visited her in the hospital when both her youngest children were born, she was the first one to ever see my baby girl via ultrasound and I was who she called for reassurance when someone completely unqualified ridiculously told her they thought her middle son might have autism.
When I decided to quit my job and stay home to work on finishing my degree and open a home daycare, she signed up her youngest daughter post haste. So, at 10 months old I became sort of mom number 2 and formed about as close an attachment as you can with a child who isn't your very own. Jady was never threatened by that - not even when her only daughter started calling me "Momma" for a year or so. She'd just laugh and make jokes about it. And our daughters became more than friends; they're family.
This morning when I heard she was gone I cried for 3 hours and had to leave work. I felt kind of ridiculous for getting so upset. We weren't "best friends," after all. It took me the day to pinpoint my reasons for unraveling at the news. I looked back through my texts to see the last time we had talked. On Oct 2nd she had sent me pics of the girls on a train ride they'd invited my youngest to go on. On Oct. 13th she sent me a picture to show my mom. On Nov. 16th I sent her a picture I knew she'd think was hilarious because her sense of humor was like mine. On Nov. 30th I texted her about my daughter's birthday party this Sunday and she said they'd be there.
But, she won't be there.  And that's why my heart is broken. Because for 11 years now we may not have been "best friends," but she's been a fixture in my life. She's been a running text conversation of shared laughs, pictures of our kids, and even some serious dialogue.  We may not have done lunch but I'd go pick up her girl to come play and step in the house and commiserate about laundry and laugh with her. We would talk about when our girls start driving or when they graduate High School.  It breaks my heart that she won't be there for those things.  There are those people in your life who are just there kind of always in the background and you assume they'll always be there.
She was so genuine and so unique - you couldn't help but love Jady.  One thing she knew about, though, was loss. She lived her life - especially when it came to her kids - knowing full well she wasn't promised tomorrow. We had that conversation more than once. We could all take a lesson from her life; she loved the people around her well and it's evident she has left a lasting impression on everyone who knew her.  I don't know for sure how long it will take before the urge to text her something will pass. I don't even know how I could ever take her name out of my phone.  I do know that today I'm going to take a page out of her book and hug my family close and know I'm not promised tomorrow.
Goodbye, beautiful Jady. Thank you for over a decade of laughter and thank you for sharing your daughter with me. I promise to always help take care of her for you just like I always have.

Look for the Good - Be the Good

Watching the chaos on the television screen from the recent shooting in Dallas, I had to remind my children to "look for the good." Look for the helpers, look for the encouragers, look for the peacemakers. They far outnumber the small percentage of bad.

Lately my youngest has been focusing on the negative.  I.E. We were in our Dallas hotel room the first night and didn't get to go swim.  She was pouting. (Keep in mind she had already been to a water park that day!) I've been in discussion with her lately about how you have to make a choice to look for good in situations instead of focusing on the negative.  When she starts to go down that negative path I say, "But, what are the good things?"

I found out Tuesday afternoon while I was off work and at the lake that there was an important training the next day in Dallas at 9:00 am.  (We live almost 4 hours away - not including any traffic issues!) Could I possibly make it?  Well.  Anything is possible. I quickly made arrangements.

My 3 kids begged to come with and my immediate answer was NO. They'd have to stay in a hotel room alone in downtown Dallas during the day and I had a room with 1 King sized bed reserved.  No.  Way.  Then I started thinking (along with my Mommy guilt) maybe it could work.  After all, my oldest is 3 weeks from 16 and my training was literally next door to the hotel.  I arranged for them to hang out with a close family friend in the area the first day and it was settled.  They were SO excited!

Wednesday evening we walked around downtown some and had dinner.  We walked through a park on the way back with fountains and my youngest was promised that we'd come back the next night.  Thursday evening, July 7th, we had more time to kill.  We had dinner then stopped in a 7-11 to get slurpees and my kids noticed that a police officer in line in front of us bought a water for a young man hanging out in front of the store. On our way back to the room, we stopped at the park as promised and noticed some people starting to gather and a few reporters interviewing people.  I didn't think a lot of it. My youngest played in the fountains as planned and then we left for our room about 2 blocks away.  Time for the hotel pool!

Back at the hotel I looked up (good ol' social media) what was going on at Belo Garden Park, where we had just been.  It was the beginnings of a Black Lives Matter rally. At the hotel where my kids were playing in the ground floor outdoor pool they voiced concern over the police helicopters circling. One hovered right over our hotel for the majority of the time we were outside and I explained that it was just the police making sure everything stayed safe.  How do you explain racism to young children? Their sweet little hearts just don't really get it.

We went in just before 9:00. Just before all hell broke loose in Dallas.  Back in our room I flipped through channels and happened across a news station blasting the images of the hysteria happening two blocks away from us.  That explained all the sirens.  I quickly changed the channel to Full House reruns.  My 7 year old was distressed by the news and as Mom my role was the harbinger of calm and safety - no matter how I felt inside. 

I feel bad saying I was scared, tucked in my bed in my cushy 5th floor hotel room with the door triple locked.  I feel bad because meanwhile police officers on the street were up all night with their lives in danger.  Even the poor attendants at the front desk of the hotel had 100 times more reason than I did to be afraid.  At any rate, this girl from rural Oklahoma, sitting on the 5th floor listening to helicopter blades and sirens right outside my window, trying to be brave for my kids, was scared. 

I also felt bad for even having my kids there... at first.  I felt bad for exposing them to the violence and fear.  But, in the light of morning after the hotel was off of lock down, and we were safely headed back home, I decided maybe it was okay that my kids experienced this. Because as tragic as it is, you can find the good. 

The tragedy was a few people with evil in their hearts who decided to open fire and kill police officers.  But, as always, evil can't prevail where love is.  Because in committing this atrocity, they forced the police officers to jump to action and protect the very people who were protesting law enforcement.  They eradicated the issue of race in those moments of fear when bullets were flying and suddenly lives were just lives - not black or white or blue.  Officers were throwing civilians out of the way to put themselves in front of the line of fire - no skin color checks first.

That's what I want my kids to see.  This is the world we live in.  We live amongst evil and the impulse is to hide away - the way I didn't want my kids to come.  I wanted to keep them safe at home.  I want to keep them safe at home forever!  But, I can't.  I have to let them see they can be the good amongst the bad.  That you can't dwell on the bad - you have to choose to see the good.  You choose to see the police officer buying the less fortunate kid a water, the emergency personnel rushing to save the lives of those who persecute them, or the breeze the scary helicopter blades provide on a hot day.

Last night to calm my youngest down we prayed.  We thanked God for His perfect timing in when we headed back to our room, we prayed for peace for our country, we prayed for the emergency personnel and their families, and we prayed for safe travels home.  Today we debriefed together and talked things out.  We discussed the fact that we knew if Jesus were in the flesh today he'd be right downtown in the the midst of the fear and pain.  He'd be ministering through it all. 

We're not all brave enough to be downtown right now.  I'm not - especially not with my babies.  But, can we really, in good conscience, keep hiding in our cushy rooms with the doors locked while the sirens and choppers whir around us outside? We live in a scary world, but we have to keep looking for the good.  More importantly, we need to find ways to BE THE GOOD in our world.

Raised in a Barn

My whole body hurts. Our bank account is busted.  Also, my sinuses are crazy from barn dust,  my head hurts from 2 days of adrenaline spikes, there are wood chips all over our house and vehicles, our shoes smell like livestock poo, and I'm not sure if there's enough detergent in the world to wash the barn smell from our clothes. I'm sitting in my living room, listening to jean buttons clank in the dryer, perusing my phone pictures, and feeling emotional. And, I'm ready to do it all again next week.  You're thinking I'm crazy, right?

What angle to write from?  That's been my question since last night.  I've written about livestock showing and the way it prepares kids for life. I could go on and on about that.  And, last night at our county show was a great example.  I could write about these kids' knowledge of responsibility, their familiarity with disappointment, their determination, their work ethics... I could reiterate how I sort of hated this world (and, trust me, it is its own little world!) at first, but have grown to love it. But, as I've contemplated and looked at my pictures and social media posts, I've discovered just how much showing really means to me.

My daughter competed at our County livestock show for the 7th time last night.  She drove both her pigs for a long time and won a 5th and 3rd place.  She showed for premium sale twice. We knew the first time was a long shot, but after her 3rd place in a class that produced a breed champion, we had high hopes.  But, she didn't make it and I watched her keep her hog walking around the arena for so long.  It was tired and breaking down. It kept going to the corners of the ring to try to quit and every time my determined daughter fought to get it back in front of the judge.  She never quit.

Truth? I wanted her to quit.  I hate to admit that.  The mom in me was watching her, tears welling in my eyes, and I just thought,  "Baby, it's over.  Just stand in the corner and let that pig rest."  I could read her frustration and when she was FINALLY chosen as 4th alternate, and they got her pig over to the side where it collapsed from exhaustion, I saw the tears she was fighting from all the way in the stands.  I had to get to her! But, getting to her meant getting down stairs and going through a maze of pig panels. Her dad was down in the arena, but he had to fight the maze, too.

By the time we got to her there were already people surrounding her.  People who care about her and were watching her fight in that ring with almost the same concern I was. I recalled last year when I watched one of the senior girls have the same experience and how anguished I felt for her as I watched her.  I also thought about how excited I was for a boy who was having an awesome show his senior year this year,  after a not-so-great year last year. I was genuinely so happy for him, watching him win.  And, it occurs to me that we are so incredibly blessed to have this huge group of families we show with who have genuine concern for our kids.  Sure, in some respects we are competing against one another, but we are also all helping raise each other's kids.

We finally got my daughter's poor worn-out pig back to the pen, and we geared up for the showmanship competition. She went right back in the ring and showed her other pig with so much determination and she WON! After 7 long years, she finally got a showmanship buckle!  It was an amazing moment.  But, do you want to know the most amazing part?  The other parents who sincerely congratulated her, were genuinely happy for her, and told her how much she deserved it.  These are parents who's kids were in the ring, competing for the same award!

We are a little village of show moms and dads. We come together to raise money, coordinate to feed the kids on show day, help each other haul animals and equipment, share tips, commiserate on losses, share the joy of winning, and help keep up with the younger siblings.  We surround other people's children with help and encouragement when they need it.  We build them up, we hold them to the highest standard, and we don't let them quit.  How many times yesterday did I look up in the stands to see one or more of my kids sitting by another show parent?  How many times did I hear another parent say, "Great job!" To my child? 

We left the barn late last night. It was cold and anywhere I turned I saw weary faces. Weary faces with a smile and encouragement to offer.  The dads still there helped the kids load the last bit of equipment and the animals that needed to be hauled back to the school.  There was light teasing here and there, serious conversations about work still to be done, and I just sat back and took it all in.  I've come full circle.  I love this stock show life now. I love these people. There is no other village I'd rather have raising my children with me. Even if we ARE raising them in a barn!