I confess delaying on this post a bit because I never know how to talk about stuff like this. Like, ever.
But yes, this past month, I was on the podcast/radio broadcast of Focus on the Family to talk about my book with Harvest House, Permanent Markers: Spiritual Life Skills to Write on Your Kids’ Hearts.
Despite my severe imposter’s syndrome, it was a cool life experience, guys. (If you like this kind of stuff, you might like this post from my FamilyLife Today interviews.)
Ever wonder if you’re doing too much for your kids?
Personality-wise, this is my reality. I am a helper, an empath to a point that it arcs others’ eyebrows.
A friend asked me a good question in a roundabout way. Let’s say my child is in one of those seasons when they’re hard to love.
…Or even being a jerk.
Question. What’s the one thing you wish about your family that feels like it would make everything better? That finally, your parenting could really sing?
What’s your “if only”?
I was chatting on the phone with my oldest this week about purity culture–which deserves a post on its own. (I have feelings. Big feelings.)
I expressed to him how tough it is as parents, when some of the less-healthy methods of purity culture are subtracted from parenting –I’m looking at you, shame-parenting–to find something as powerful to direct our kids toward good and keep them from what’s truly bad.
Author’s note: This week was one of those where I was pretty consistently busy nearly until bedtime. I would recommend this pace to pretty much no one.
But I continue to have real-life kids, like the one to whom I have been raising my eyebrows about chores three days in a row. Or whichever one left a fingernail clipping on my sofa. And the one I had to apologize to while editing this version of the post below.
I was glad/sad to see high click-throughs for my recent post, When Valentine’s Day is hard.
Maybe I’m reading into it. But maybe some of you are army-crawling through hard times. Or know someone who is. (Or are curious to see exactly how I would tackle that beast.)
As I’ve mentioned, oh, 76 or so times, I have four teenagers in the house. Which means we have very little of some things (leftovers, tranquility, time, clean laundry), and a lot of other things (drama, chips and salsa, deodorant, hormones).
And as the culture around them accelerates to 5G-speed–despite my kids’ lack of a fully-developed frontal lobe–my husband and I are working hard to keep communication open.
Today, my oldest is headed for continued training with the Marines; the 1987 Nissan Z he’s been flipping–the one the still needs the muffler?–sits resignedly outside. My youngest, a delight and a straight-up handful, is with extended family. And thanks to this past year’s new puppy, I’m up early.
(This morning’s tea choice: Stash’s Licorice Spice. But since we’re talking New Year’s, my favorite of 2022 has definitely been Tazo’s Glazed Lemon Loaf.)
So–a lot of women I know are in that window of life where one’s body starts needing repair from growing, then expelling a human.
If you’re not there? Hey, super-fun stuff.
![Now You're Speaking My [Love] Language](https://www.janelbreitenstein.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/08/love-languages-text-1.jpg "Now You're Speaking My [Love] Language")
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