Tag Archives: making mistakes

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We make mistakes; some are big ones- the kind that stop you in your tracks.  Parenting missteps are unavoidable.  There is no perfect parenting.  The success of parenting, I'm learning (painfully slow I might add), is more about our response to our parenting missteps.

My missteps range from not providing clean matching socks to allowing my children unnecessary exposure to the ungodly to downright being a fire-breathing dragon. The mistakes are varied and great in number, but my response is typically one of the following.

1. Groan in guilt  I focus on how I've messed up "this time", but I also replay each and every past parenting failure over and over....and over.

2. Dissolve into despair  I consider how I might just have ruined the forever happiness of my children.  I lament at how I've led them on a path leading to anything but a bright or right future.

3. Ignore... Some of my mistakes seem too hard to fix.  They're too daunting to even think about.........  So I don't.

4.* Fix one misstep with another I can't count the dollars and time spent trying to pay for my mistakes.  An apology given or an ice cream date as an offering to my mess-up is fine.   However it's not a fix on its own; especially if it's accompanied by #1, #2 or #3.

These are unhealthy responses rather than a course of action.  By only wallowing in guilt and despair, by remaining in purposed oblivion, NOTHING WILL CHANGE.  It's as if I'm staying right where I've fallen.  My smart husband and I recently gave myself a pep talk.  I was reminded that the greatest guiding force in my parenting will be prayer.  Three other things I'm determined to remember?

Wallowing is doing nothing.

It's not too late to do what I can do today.

It's too early to worry about tomorrow.

Parent shoes are big shoes to fill.  Thankfully we have a God that fills the spaces and forgives our falls.

What is your default response to a misstep?

kristiburden@gmail.com

 

 

 

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Dear Me at 37,

Last week you traveled back in time; back to 1989 when you were just fourteen. And you wrote a letter to yourself back then. It was so important that you look back and see where you were.  You needed to look upon that fresh face, full of hope that upon trying, she would reach that point where life is all roses.

You reminisced a time when an affirming word made you feel whole.  You looked back to a time when completing a level on Mario Bros. made for a good day. Hearing She Drives Me Crazy or anything by Phil Collins was all it took to lift your spirits. But just as quick your day was made, one wrong look from someone in the hallway at school and your joy was stolen.

So flighty.

So insecure.

So petty.

So small.

This is going to hurt a little, but I must ask you.  Have you really changed that much?  Sure you smile and engage in conversation like you're Mrs. Congeniality.  You could now play Monopoly with your brother and sister-n-law  without a fight breaking out over how much money is owed by landing on Park Place. But are you where you want to be?

You know deep down that the smile on your face is an offering that comes when you're elated and when you're crushed. You still spend too much time being the latter. You don't play board games or video games anymore, all your time is spent in this game called life. You still come unleashed on the inside when you feel you're losing or if other people don't play fair.

You looked back for a reason; there was something to be learned. It's true what God's word says: "Everything that was written in the past was written to teach us."

Looking back helped you to learn from those mistakes; the ones you made in  High School and the one you made after supper last night.

You know, there are two ways to look at your mistakes.  You can count every tear and loss.  You can count every bad day and every failure.  The number of times you've shrunken in terror would be too many to list.  So many things go wrong.

But I need you to hear this.  It's not so much about how many mistakes you've made.  Really you've only made one.

You forget your first love.

You make this mistake over and over.

You pray, but then somehow forget that your amen doesn't have to end the interaction. Then you go and do, without remembering or asking what He thinks.

You read those precious promises that God is your refuge and then go off feeling helpless, vulnerable and alone.

You base your day on your successes or how someone else makes you feel instead of relying on the unchanging nature of God.

This BIG mistake, the one where you forget your first love? It's a part of your DNA.  It's what makes you human.

Get over it.

Stop focusing on all that goes wrong.  Instead, pay attention to all the beautiful things that come from your first love, like that rainstorm the other day-the one where you got listen to the thunder roll and it made your heart swell.

Quit thinking about what doesn't go your way and remember that God smiles at you every day through sunshine and the toothy smile of your seven-year old. He tells you that everything is ok through the reassuring words of your husband.  Sometimes He whispers assurance straight to your heart.

So what if you still disappoint- like the time this week when you accidentally took Rylie's completed homework out of her folder and she had to sit out of the whole recess for not having it.  Your first love is with you in your disappointment. He was with Rylie too. He wishes you would know that in the scheme of things, it's not such a big deal.  She forgave you without hesitation.

Your days are filled with hugs and affirmation from your boy and the chance to revel at the creativity and strength of that middle daughter of yours.  There's music to be heard even when your favorite radio station doesn't come in. A chorus of birds waits outside your kitchen window most every morning. You're never alone.

Hey you in the mirror.

Look at your self- back then and now, but not for too long.

It's spending too much time in the mirror that our imperfection begins to define us.

Own us.

Go on and glance in the mirror, but keep looking to your first love.

Just in case you missed my Letter at 14: http://kristiburden.com/?p=2993
 Or say hello @ kristiburden@gmail.com

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Writing Life

As I mentioned in my last post, my mom and baby sister were here this past weekend.  My mom is in the editing stage of  her first children's book.  My sister and I offered our assistance.  We also took time to focus our teacher eyes on writing found of Rylie's and my nephew (our stubby fingered kiddos).

In other words, writing happened; editing happened.  Mistakes and inadequacies were reflected upon.  Smiley faces were drawn with our imagination as we looked at writing in its early stage.  Improvements were made.  We shared parts we liked. - Drew stars to show our favorite parts; we agreed and disagreed.

Jason even joined in the book editing with mom-often inserting the proofreading symbol for new paragraph on each page.  The more I write, the more I see the need to frequently start new paragraphs, much like in life.

Life like writing, is a process.

It's not so much the beautiful story written.

The magic and mystery is in the story being made. -Parts you scrawl out hastily with a pen; moments you can hardly keep up.

Parts of life seem like the blank space on the page.  You stare....and nothing.  You scratch your head and chew on your pen, still nothing.  Wordless, seemingly purposeless you sit and think.  You think so hard you want to get up and walk away.

Life has misspellings.  Life is full of errors;  errors that happen because you're in a hurry and other times just because you don't know better.  Sometimes you catch those errors and correct them.  Other times you are pained as your errors are pointed out by others.  But still...you write.

Like children your letters are misshapened, malformed.  Through tears you are forced to keep writing.

There are long arrows drawn indicating pieces or chapters out-of-place, like pieces of life.   -Not wrong, but out-of-place.  There are lines you deem unnecessary.  Take heart..... Those lines you scratch out.... the ones you try to erase?  They're part of the process.

Sometimes we stay inside the margins.  We are neat and display proper penmanship.  Other times we scribble in the margins.  Sometimes it's that which is beyond the margin that stands out in the end.

Keep writing.  Neat or messy, keep the pen moving.  Find comfort in the blank spaces.  Go outside the margins when necessary.

Write life, being thankful for the One who helps you hold the pen.