Well. We did our little shpeaking gig for Eve's Daughters this morning to a couple hundred women. Despite my nervousness, despite Cathy's back being out and having a really sick daughter at home, it went really well. At the end of our little deal we have the Big Ask for volunteers, etc., and I made a joke about people unloading any unwieldy piles of cash our way--now that we can give them an honest-to-gosh tax exempt donation letter. Of course I was not expecting anything.
But then the coolest thing happened: A little gray-haired lady came up to me afterwards and grabbed for my hand. She then placed a wad of money in it and said, "It's not much, but I'd like to make a donation to your organization."
Oh. My. Gosh. This was like my grandmother slipping me candy money when I was a kid. It was so incredibly sweet, and I just held onto her hand for a minute and thanked her. Why did I get such a sense of the widow Jesus spoke of and her two copper coins? I obviously have no idea of her financial situation...but I gathered she may have emptied her wallet for Eve's Daughters' benefit.
She gave us five singles. And Cathy and I are going to get a special mat and frame them like they do at the restaurants. Our first donation! Now we just need some office space...
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Saturday, May 9, 2009
God is Good
Well it's official! Eve's Daughters is now a 501(c)(3) tax-exempt non-profit! We filed the paperwork with the IRS four weeks ago and received the determination letter in the mail today - the day before Mother's Day! (A miracle to be sure! The IRS website says they are experiencing a 90-day delay in processing paperwork for tax-exempt status! Which is typically a 6-12 week process to begin with!) What a fabulous Mother's Day present...the start of blessings for single mom's in the Portland Metro area...(and beyond??)
Somehow it seems official now...like we are grown up and real! Let the real work can begin...so much to do...what's next...
The journey continues. I wonder who might be the first to donate to our cause? It's tax deductible! Want to join us on the ride?
PS- Happy Mother's Day! This is a good one...
Somehow it seems official now...like we are grown up and real! Let the real work can begin...so much to do...what's next...
The journey continues. I wonder who might be the first to donate to our cause? It's tax deductible! Want to join us on the ride?
PS- Happy Mother's Day! This is a good one...
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Humpty Dumpty
I have had a great fall…and I am broken into a million little pieces…
I have been walking the narrow wall of teenage parenting…and today I fell. Fell victim to the biggest lie…my kids will appreciate everything I do for them and act accordingly. They will drop at my feet and worship my sacrifices, give me loving praise, and to show me their devotion…will do the dishes, clean up their room, and give me a kiss on the cheek before brushing their teeth and going to bed.
I fell victim to wanting approval from my kids…for all that I have done…for all the love I have given them…for the trade-offs made to make their lives the best I can. It was an honest mistake, a human one…I needed love…I needed someone to care…I needed someone with skin to tell me I am okay…to appreciate me.
So here I sit, broken in tiny pieces and too exhausted to put humpty dumpty back together again. Where can I turn? The answer is back to the One that I turned to in 1996 when I first realized how broken I was. Back to God…the one that saves me from myself.
It sounds all too sweet…too cliché. But it is real. God is the only one that will save me. Will love me the way I should be loved…will appreciate me for the person He made me to be when He conceived of me. Only, He isn’t here…in the physical sense that is. He can’t back me up with the kids, hold me when I am falling to pieces, or discipline the kids when I have holed up in the back of my dark closet…
All the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put Humpty together again…but God can. Funny…after all the times He has come with the super glue…He keeps coming...patiently, lovingly putting me back together again…when I am too exhausted to manage it myself…when I am too busy buying the lies.
I have been walking the narrow wall of teenage parenting…and today I fell. Fell victim to the biggest lie…my kids will appreciate everything I do for them and act accordingly. They will drop at my feet and worship my sacrifices, give me loving praise, and to show me their devotion…will do the dishes, clean up their room, and give me a kiss on the cheek before brushing their teeth and going to bed.
I fell victim to wanting approval from my kids…for all that I have done…for all the love I have given them…for the trade-offs made to make their lives the best I can. It was an honest mistake, a human one…I needed love…I needed someone to care…I needed someone with skin to tell me I am okay…to appreciate me.
So here I sit, broken in tiny pieces and too exhausted to put humpty dumpty back together again. Where can I turn? The answer is back to the One that I turned to in 1996 when I first realized how broken I was. Back to God…the one that saves me from myself.
It sounds all too sweet…too cliché. But it is real. God is the only one that will save me. Will love me the way I should be loved…will appreciate me for the person He made me to be when He conceived of me. Only, He isn’t here…in the physical sense that is. He can’t back me up with the kids, hold me when I am falling to pieces, or discipline the kids when I have holed up in the back of my dark closet…
All the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put Humpty together again…but God can. Funny…after all the times He has come with the super glue…He keeps coming...patiently, lovingly putting me back together again…when I am too exhausted to manage it myself…when I am too busy buying the lies.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
The Sisterhood of the Traveling Brain
So many of my sistahs--accomplished women of my age--have complained lately their propensity towards brainlessness. Is it our age? Circumstances? Hormonal imbalances? All I can say is it seems we'd all somehow agreed to share a brain, passing it around before we're really ready to, you know, like when we still could be using it. Mind you, I am privileged to hang with a really talented group of women, so we are all terribly chagrined about this sudden scourge of intelligence.
I regularly sit in my office, rolling my eyes toward the ceiling, trying to capture a word I'm thinking of...begins with a p...p p pppppa. This wouldn't be so bad if I weren't a writer. And when the other thoughts fly in--need dental floss, E's evening performance, sugar-free chocolate?--I take dictation on my little lime green Post-It pad: A life in stickies.
My daughter finds this hysterical--the notes stuck to the coffee pot, the calendar, the mirror. I glare at her and say I didn't used to be this way, before I was a mom. I used to have a life, a fully firing brain and goals. Not anymore. And it's been a bittersweet adjustment.
What I am realizing, however, is that it's all a trade off. I had my daughter at 34, and what I traded in energy from my 20s I (hopefully) made up for in patience and common sense. I am realizing that my calling to do Eve's Daughters, and to raise my own daughter well, necessitated that I lose some of my previous efficiency. It's requiring a transparency, a realness, a humility I didn't use to have. I had lose some of my polish to earn a different kind of glow, if you know what I mean--the kind that comes from recognizing that we're indeed growing older but perhaps deeper and more beautiful, less afraid and rigid. It impacts our work, our relationships and our mothering, but I find I have less to prove these days, and that, in itself, is pretty freeing.
How has your parenting changed as you've aged?
I regularly sit in my office, rolling my eyes toward the ceiling, trying to capture a word I'm thinking of...begins with a p...p p pppppa. This wouldn't be so bad if I weren't a writer. And when the other thoughts fly in--need dental floss, E's evening performance, sugar-free chocolate?--I take dictation on my little lime green Post-It pad: A life in stickies.
My daughter finds this hysterical--the notes stuck to the coffee pot, the calendar, the mirror. I glare at her and say I didn't used to be this way, before I was a mom. I used to have a life, a fully firing brain and goals. Not anymore. And it's been a bittersweet adjustment.
What I am realizing, however, is that it's all a trade off. I had my daughter at 34, and what I traded in energy from my 20s I (hopefully) made up for in patience and common sense. I am realizing that my calling to do Eve's Daughters, and to raise my own daughter well, necessitated that I lose some of my previous efficiency. It's requiring a transparency, a realness, a humility I didn't use to have. I had lose some of my polish to earn a different kind of glow, if you know what I mean--the kind that comes from recognizing that we're indeed growing older but perhaps deeper and more beautiful, less afraid and rigid. It impacts our work, our relationships and our mothering, but I find I have less to prove these days, and that, in itself, is pretty freeing.
How has your parenting changed as you've aged?
Friday, April 17, 2009
Sacrifices
As moms we make sacrifices daily. We do for our kids what we are wired to do, regardless of its common sense. It’s just what we do.
I am sick. I have been all week. I want to believe that it is a cold, I have been told it is an allergy…to a cat…my daughter’s cat…the one we bought to help her over a very traumatic time in her life. Now what?
My sister said it may be time to get rid of the cat…no…we can’t. My daughter needs the cat. I need her to have the cat. So I sacrifice. I head out for treatment, because that is what we moms do. We fix things. As is often the case, we fix us. Because we can control that…because we want our kids to be ok.
I am guessing that it is the same for all moms. But from my perspective as a single mom, we are really sensitive about our kids being okay, because we hear about how messed up they are going to be because they come from single parent homes. I will never forget the time I walked out of church, front row, with my kids and their friends because the pastor was telling the congregation the statistics of how messed up these poor single parented children are going to be when they grow up. My son looked at me and said, “Mom that isn’t going to be us”. Thanks Bubba, but I’m not so sure…you see I have a lot of guilt…our situation isn’t “normal”. Or so I’m told.
We want the best for our kids, and whether we were left or we did the leaving, we struggle to make things right…to make things “normal”. The 2000 Census says that 28% of homes with children under the age of 18 were heading by a single parent, of which 78% percent were headed by a female. So I guess that means that 28% is considered “abnormal” by many. I disagree.
So I sit here with barely a voice, runny nose, congested chest, and sore throat and wonder…how can I tell my body that it is wrong…it’s not an allergy…I’m a mom…we don’t do allergies to our children’s pets. How can I tell the world they are wrong? My “single mom” reaction to my allergy is most likely just how many “normal” moms living with a husband would react. We all make sacrifices…single moms and “normal” moms. It’s what we do…all of us moms.
I am sick. I have been all week. I want to believe that it is a cold, I have been told it is an allergy…to a cat…my daughter’s cat…the one we bought to help her over a very traumatic time in her life. Now what?
My sister said it may be time to get rid of the cat…no…we can’t. My daughter needs the cat. I need her to have the cat. So I sacrifice. I head out for treatment, because that is what we moms do. We fix things. As is often the case, we fix us. Because we can control that…because we want our kids to be ok.
I am guessing that it is the same for all moms. But from my perspective as a single mom, we are really sensitive about our kids being okay, because we hear about how messed up they are going to be because they come from single parent homes. I will never forget the time I walked out of church, front row, with my kids and their friends because the pastor was telling the congregation the statistics of how messed up these poor single parented children are going to be when they grow up. My son looked at me and said, “Mom that isn’t going to be us”. Thanks Bubba, but I’m not so sure…you see I have a lot of guilt…our situation isn’t “normal”. Or so I’m told.
We want the best for our kids, and whether we were left or we did the leaving, we struggle to make things right…to make things “normal”. The 2000 Census says that 28% of homes with children under the age of 18 were heading by a single parent, of which 78% percent were headed by a female. So I guess that means that 28% is considered “abnormal” by many. I disagree.
So I sit here with barely a voice, runny nose, congested chest, and sore throat and wonder…how can I tell my body that it is wrong…it’s not an allergy…I’m a mom…we don’t do allergies to our children’s pets. How can I tell the world they are wrong? My “single mom” reaction to my allergy is most likely just how many “normal” moms living with a husband would react. We all make sacrifices…single moms and “normal” moms. It’s what we do…all of us moms.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Rental Grandmas
I saw a piece on the local news tonight about Grannies for Rent. Seriously. Single, older women "adopted" kids of single moms. The older women don't have any family around, and the single moms don't have any grandparents handy. So, they spoil the kids rotten, spend holidays with them, develop relationships with the single parent family/extended family and do life together. Unfortunately, the story came over the wires from Poland. But they are so on to something over there...and it's exactly what we're hoping to do eventually with Eve's Daughters.
We recently lost a sweet sweet neighbor who was one of E's rental grandmas. It was especially hard because that kind of adoration--the kind with no strings attached--is beautiful and rare. I remembered my own grandmother who, by her own admission, made a better grandma than a mom. She was the one who took me to the Disney movie openings and to Big Boy for a hamburger afterwards. She was the one who told my mother (my MOTHER!) to lighten up when it came to being fashionable in the 1970s :) and the one who'd remind me that grades weren't the be all and end all.
Thing is, kids need this kind of attention and love, yet so few of us are near biological family these days...and sometimes, biological families aren't interested in that kind of relationship. But what about, for example, the youngish widow who has a lot of time and love and talent and chocolate chip cookies to give?
Cathy and I have been chewing on the notion of working with local senior populations as well, for this very reason. Tell us your thoughts: Is this something that would be a blessing to your family?
We recently lost a sweet sweet neighbor who was one of E's rental grandmas. It was especially hard because that kind of adoration--the kind with no strings attached--is beautiful and rare. I remembered my own grandmother who, by her own admission, made a better grandma than a mom. She was the one who took me to the Disney movie openings and to Big Boy for a hamburger afterwards. She was the one who told my mother (my MOTHER!) to lighten up when it came to being fashionable in the 1970s :) and the one who'd remind me that grades weren't the be all and end all.
Thing is, kids need this kind of attention and love, yet so few of us are near biological family these days...and sometimes, biological families aren't interested in that kind of relationship. But what about, for example, the youngish widow who has a lot of time and love and talent and chocolate chip cookies to give?
Cathy and I have been chewing on the notion of working with local senior populations as well, for this very reason. Tell us your thoughts: Is this something that would be a blessing to your family?
Monday, March 9, 2009
Garbage Strike
Dear Single Mom,
You are loved. You are special. You are enough. I know that at times it seems like the road is forever long with no end in sight. I know that there are days when it would be such a relief to have someone, anyone, give you a hug…shed a tear or two with you…and then graciously take out the garbage and recycling. I know because I have been there and today is garbage day.
I’ve heard it said that “we all have our roles to play”. Why does the single mom have so many? I hate garbage day…it is irrational but I have done the single mom thing for over 14 years, and for 14 years I have hated Monday nights…garbage night. I resent the heck out of it! Each Monday night, when I drag the cans to the curb, I am reminded that I am on my own…with the garbage, and all the other things that come with being “alone” without a husband.
The question I ask myself…why do I do it...why do I hold onto the garbage? I have a 17-year old and a 14-year old – why can’t they do garbage day? Sometimes they do…if I bug…if I nag…if I cry…if I throw a fit. They are good kids, but they have no radar into garbage day…
Could it be that I am not good at asking for help? Could it be that I feel a bit guilty that my kids grew up in a single parent household? Am I trying to make up for the “normal” life they didn’t have? Society has such a way of labeling us single moms as misfits and our kids as future delinquents. Maybe I am buying into it. Maybe it is time to liberate myself…maybe it is time to turn over garbage day to the kids…to realize that I have done the best possible job that I can…that I am a darn GOOD mom…and that my kids are growing up okay and will make positive contributions to the world. No amount of garbage can take that away from me!
“KIDS, come take out the garbage…and don’t forget the recycling!”
All you single mom's out there...hang in there...and remember it isn't a weakness to go on garbage strike!
You are loved. You are special. You are enough. I know that at times it seems like the road is forever long with no end in sight. I know that there are days when it would be such a relief to have someone, anyone, give you a hug…shed a tear or two with you…and then graciously take out the garbage and recycling. I know because I have been there and today is garbage day.
I’ve heard it said that “we all have our roles to play”. Why does the single mom have so many? I hate garbage day…it is irrational but I have done the single mom thing for over 14 years, and for 14 years I have hated Monday nights…garbage night. I resent the heck out of it! Each Monday night, when I drag the cans to the curb, I am reminded that I am on my own…with the garbage, and all the other things that come with being “alone” without a husband.
The question I ask myself…why do I do it...why do I hold onto the garbage? I have a 17-year old and a 14-year old – why can’t they do garbage day? Sometimes they do…if I bug…if I nag…if I cry…if I throw a fit. They are good kids, but they have no radar into garbage day…
Could it be that I am not good at asking for help? Could it be that I feel a bit guilty that my kids grew up in a single parent household? Am I trying to make up for the “normal” life they didn’t have? Society has such a way of labeling us single moms as misfits and our kids as future delinquents. Maybe I am buying into it. Maybe it is time to liberate myself…maybe it is time to turn over garbage day to the kids…to realize that I have done the best possible job that I can…that I am a darn GOOD mom…and that my kids are growing up okay and will make positive contributions to the world. No amount of garbage can take that away from me!
“KIDS, come take out the garbage…and don’t forget the recycling!”
All you single mom's out there...hang in there...and remember it isn't a weakness to go on garbage strike!
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