Do these 3 things and your child - and YOU - will have a better school year

New shoes on feet, crisp unstained white polos on body, backpacks full of shiny new school supplies. Pancakes hot off the griddle, hopes riding high, anxiety working overtime.

We were on time to the first day of school three weeks ago. But as the week wore on, we got there later and later; and that 7:20 a.m. goal departure time was getting farther and farther away from the time we were actually leaving, shoes untied with toaster waffles stuffed in sweaty hands.

It built until one day, I blew. Ranting, raving, screaming - WHERE ARE YOUR GLASSES? WHY AREN'T YOUR BOOKS IN YOUR BACKPACK? YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN DOWN HERE ALREADY! PUT YOUR SHOES ON IN THE CAR!

I felt awful. This is not the way I want to send my kids away for the day. It makes them in a rotten mood; and honestly, it makes me fear a school shooting even more and those being the last words I say to my children.

The house eerily quiet, I could hear myself think for a change. What are you doing, Kathy? You used to be a teacher! You wouldn't yell at your students like that. You would have a classroom management system in place with expectations clearly posted. 

Consequently, I spent the rest of the day prepping my house just as I used to prep my classroom. By the time my boys arrived home, I had graphs and charts and posters hung that clearly stated the objectives.

"I did my job, boys, now you need to do yours," I stated, and washed my hands of yelling for the rest of the school year.

Here are the three simple things I did:

1. I made a morning checklist. 

I hung this in my eleven-year-old's cubby. He is the one usually coming to the car and then going back inside saying he's forgotten something important. Now I don't have to nag and remind. Everything he needs for the day is spelled out and hung right by his backpack. It's in his hands now.

2. Designated a spot for important things:

Again, for my eleven-year-old. He is always misplacing his glasses. They can be anywhere from in the shower, to the floor under the bed, or buried in the covers of his bed. This is the spot where they should always be. We are still working on this, but it helps a lot and is a huge time-saver in the morning.

3. After school expectations:

After school is another time I get tired of yelling at the boys to do certain things. So, I spelled it out for them. Don't laugh at my primitive pictures, but those are for my second grader who is still learning to read. This is where I have seen the biggest difference. I see the boys checking the steps when they get home. Just the threat of losing the screen time - which is clearly spelled out as a consequence - is enough of a motivator for them.

We usually get home at about 3:30-:35. I put in step #6 for Slim because he needs to check the Brain POP of the day. The other boys skip that step and get right to their work, adding that 10 minutes on to their screen time later or to their active time.

As a supplement to these strategies, I'm also employing:

• Consistency. This is something I've had to work on personally. Getting up at the same time, getting the boys up at a set time, and leaving the house at the same time every day no matter what. This helps a ton by getting the boys to school early enough to be ready for their school day. 
• Scheduled homework breaks. Lil' C doesn't have that much homework in second grade and Knox is really good about finishing his fourth grade homework, but Slim has a lot of sixth grade homework that is tough for him to focus on after a while. I let him have 5-10 minute iPad breaks after a certain amount of work - that I designate - is done. Sometimes I will ask him to estimate how long something will take him to do. Then I will set the timer; and if he can beat the clock, he earns extra break time. It really helps to motivate him. 
• Praise and extra mom time. I am always sure to point out what the boys are doing well. I am specific with my praise, "I like the way you sat right down and started your homework without my help." With so many boys to help, I try to set aside extra time to read a special book or play a game with someone whose homework is done. 

I'm starting here; and if necessary, I will add some behavior mapping if people are slacking off and making poor choices. Search Pinterest boards for some ideas on how to create a behavior map. Be sure to put both positive and negative (or expected and unexpected) behaviors and consequences on it. 

Your child does not have to be a special education student, or have ADHD or ASD to benefit from these strategies. We all learn in a variety of ways from visual to auditory to kinesthetic. I bet you have more than one type of learner in your house. Trust me when I say, this will work and save your sanity. 

I'll post more tips as the school year progresses. Do you have an idea that works for your kids at home or at school? We'd love to hear it! Leave it below or post a link. 

Together we can help our kids succeed (and save ourselves from headaches!).

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The Problem with 'What Can I Do?'

When our son Joey was diagnosed with cancer, many people from our community came out to help us. From offering to take our boys to the park to organizing weekly meals to sending cards and gifts to leaving a ham on our porch, it all helped tremendously.

Help works best in crisis when people just DO rather than ask. It may seem like a sign of support when you say, "Let me know what I can do to help;" but rare is the person who will actually turn to you and say, "Okay, why don't you do xyz?" Many times, they don't even know what they need.

Speaking from experience over on Her View From Home today, I'm sharing nine things you can do instead of asking 'what can I do' when someone you know is in a crisis. Head on over and read the full post here.

Also, if you haven't read why I hate the hashtag #sorrynotsorry, you can read that here. 

Do I Look Like "Mom" to You?

It was late on a Sunday evening. I was standing at the bathroom sink as Hubby and our seven year old, Lil’ C, were in the shower washing a day’s worth of grass from yard work and water play off their legs and feet.

I heard the water shut off and Lil’ C say, “I don’t have a towel.”

Then came Hubby’s voice, muffled under the cotton of his own towel, “You mean you came down here to get in the shower, but you didn't bring a towel?”

“I forgot . . .” Then, “Mom, will you go get me a towel?”

I sighed. Right in that moment I was really invested in picking at the middle-aged period zits that seemed to have inhabited my chin and neck.

“What do I look like to you?” I asked and squeezed another one.

Lil’ C poked his head out of the shower and said simply in his cute, scratchy little boy voice, “Well . . . Mom.”

Hubby’s head poked out just then. “He’s right, you know,” he said with a wink and a smile.

I sighed again. He was right.

I am Mom.

I have made ‘Being Mom’ my job for the past eleven and a half years.

As I walked up the stairs to get the towel, I tripped over toys, swim towels, and wet bathing suits left to rot the new wood floor.  I thought to myself, If this is how I Mom, I should be fired.

Suddenly, something came over me and I started to rant, “You boys get down here and get all these toys off the stairs. Someone is going to trip and fall (namely, me). And you pick up these wet bathing suits and towels. I've hung your towels up three times already today. I'm not doing it again. And who is making your baby brother cry again?”

Maybe I was just tired. I was probably PMSing just a little a bit.

I was definitely panicking that I am not raising good human beings.

In any other job you get the benefit of a performance review. You sit down with the boss, and she has a piece of paper on which you can actually see what areas you are rocking and what areas need a little more effort.

But when your bosses are tiny little humans incapable of wiping their own bottoms and cooking their own food? Well, you're kinda screwed.

Aside from the nosey eyes of strangers at the grocery store who may or may not be silently rating you on a scale of one-to-ten on how you are handling your toddler’s meltdown in aisle seven, or the teacher who is judging your home discipline skills based on the number of smiley faces that Little Johnny did NOT get on his chart this week, or the mother-in-law who seems to have “just a little piece of advice for you” every time she sees you, or the Facebook commenter who really IS the perfect Mom, there is no rating scale or evaluation period for the job of ‘Mom.’

Those tiny little humans are, unfortunately, our only markers of success or failure.

And that’s kind of B.S. if you ask me.

To hang your career success on how quickly you can make it to the bathroom to wipe somebody’s bottom or how deftly you can shove peas into someone’s wailing mouth or how easily you can divert a tween’s foul mood is a ridiculous experiment in certain failure on most days.

Do you know why? Those tiny little humans come already equipped with their own temperaments and thoughts and ideas; and try as we might to bend them, they keep growing straight and strong despite our best efforts.

They make mistakes, and so do we. But that’s how we both learn.

As good leaders, truly good teachers and guides, we should be leading by example. Placing ourselves in a supervisory role, if you will.

Because if the only evaluation our tiny little humans are getting is coming from someone who has no marker for her own job success or failure, they're screwed.

The great thing about our job is that Moms and kids are in it together. One to lead and teach and guide and love.

And the other to learn and grow and teach us back.

I think that’s a pretty sweet working arrangement; one that lends itself to creativity and innovation and the sharpening of problem-solving skills.

All of that must be good for employee/employer relations, evaluation or not.

Later that Sunday night, I was finally taking a break on the couch when Lil’ C tapped me on the shoulder.

“I brought you your water, just like you like it,” he said, holding out a cup with a huge, toothless grin on his face. “A straw, lots of ice, and a slice of lemon.”

I took the water and gave him a hug. “Because you're Mom,” he added (a perk of the job!).

Attention to detail, compassion, repayment of debt . . .yep, I’d say I've done my job today. High marks on the day’s job performance evaluation.

For both of us. 

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The One Thing Grieving Moms Fear

Our summer has been a series of hot days spent poolside, outings with the sole purpose of knocking items off our summer bucket list, and lazy days spent at home punctuated by too much screen time, overzealous brotherly "love," and a cycle of mess, clean, repeat.

Bedtimes have been loosely observed, ignored in favor of another chapter of Harry Potter or popcorn and a classic movie like The Sandlot. Despite the late nights, the boys still get up with the sun. At least now they've learned to keep the volume on the t.v. low so Mom can sleep a little longer. They put in their own toaster waffles, and big brothers help little with glasses of cold morning milk.

Last week, after many late nights spent reading and laughing at movies and riding bikes as the sun set, miracle of miracles - the boys actually slept in past 7:00 am. Three of the four were up by 8:00 am, and we busied ourselves in the kitchen making eggs and pancakes and sharing responsibility for emptying the dishwasher of its clean dishes.

As the clock moved around the hour, breakfast was eaten and dirty dishes were filling the dishwasher again. I kept looking at the clock and looking at the stairs. Lil' C wasn't awake yet. There was no noise coming from upstairs: he wasn't simply watching television or playing a video game.

I contemplated checking on him, but I didn't want to wake him if he really needed the sleep.

A few minutes before 9:00 I heard footsteps upstairs, footsteps that made the path to the bathroom and back to the bedroom. That's when panic set in.

Six years ago, I had a similar morning - television on softly, toaster waffles toasting slowly. Three little boys awake and one not. One who slept late, who went to the bathroom and returned to bed.

And when I checked on him, he was having a grand mal seizure.

Then there was an ambulance.

And a doctor.

And a tumor.

I live in fear of this happening again. 

I think as moms we have certain fears ingrained in us: illness, freak accidents, kidnapping. Worry is just a part of the mom job.

But when you are a grieving mom, when you have been through something very tragic and perhaps held your own child in your arms as he died, you fear history repeating itself with one of your other children.

After all, if it could happen once, it could happen again . . . right?

I remember a time shortly after Joey died when Knox started complaining of headaches every day.

Oh God, no, please no, I thought each time he brought me his concern.

A trip to the radiologist revealed he just had congested sinuses.

This time.

But who's to say that something else won't sneak up on us when we least expect it?

Every headache, every stomachache, fever, illness, bump on the head, I wonder, Is it cancer? Or add here what other grieving moms fear - another miscarriage, another heart condition or genetic defect. Whatever it was that took their child away.

I guess it's a bit of PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder). I didn't realize that until I was at a blog conference, and someone fell to the floor having a seizure. I started hyperventilating and crying: the same reaction I experienced in the ER after the doctor told me about Joey's tumor.

And the same reason why I can't be around kids who are bloated from steroids and who have lost their hair from chemo. I think I can be strong, but I realize there are unresolved feelings there.

No matter how much we blog about our experiences, no matter how much we encourage other mamas to talk and share - and we embrace them for doing so - we are still scared. We still hold those memories so close to the surface, right over our hearts, and right in the forefront of our minds. Even if the same thing can never happen again, there is a fear of something big affecting our mama hearts and hitting us out of the blue.

I don't know how to make that feeling go away. Like I said, I think it's just part of motherhood - the beauty, the fullness, and the astounding happiness and joy mixed with the fear and uncertainty, anxiety and sadness that simply come inherent in the job.

*        *         *

At nine o'clock that morning last week when I didn't hear my fourth set of little feet coming down the stairs, I took a deep breath and went up to Lil' C's room. He was half lying on and half standing by his bed, face on his blanket, thumb in his mouth. When I came in the room, he yawned and smiled.

"Hey Buddy, good morning," I said as I wrapped him in a huge hug. "I have pancakes and bacon downstairs. Are you coming down?"

"Pancakes and bacon?! Yeah, I'm on my way! Just let me get dressed." He scurried off leaving his blanket on the bed.

As I turned to go back to the kitchen, I felt the tension leave my body with a sigh.

Not today, I thought. We're all safe today. 

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Dear Mom, You Will Find Grace

Hail Mary, full of grace . . .


I say this prayer almost nightly, yet I never really thought about what grace actually is; that is, until people kept telling me I had it.

I’d never thought of myself as having grace. Yet when my son Joey was battling terminal cancer at the age of five, people’s favorite thing to tell me was that I was handling it all with grace.

I was taken aback at first. How does one handle the imminent death of her child with grace? Is that even possible?

If it meant not crying in public, I was handling it with grace.

If it meant crafting words that made other people feel better about a child’s death sentence, I was handling it with grace.

If it meant not curling up in a ball and rocking in the corner, I was handling it with grace.

I really had no other choice but to handle it with grace.

And you would, too.


Here's the kicker though: do you know what grace actually is? In Christian terms it is "the free and unmerited favor of God, as manifested in the salvation of sinners and the bestowal of blessings."

Being told that your child will die of cancer is the exact opposite of this. I was sure I was being punished for some past life sin, or a sin in this life. I definitely wasn't being blessed with anything.

So why did people say this thing about me? This thing about grace? What exactly did they mean?

I took it as a compliment anyway, a life jacket that buoyed me up above the dark water in which I was drowning. Would my son's death be so bad if I could just manage to handle it with grace?

Regardless of how I was going to handle it or not - head held high, writing words to make cancer sound graceful, or leaving rooms to cry and shake my fists at God - it was going to happen anyway.

I didn't cry at his funeral. Not during the service and not when mourners cried in front of me.

Grace.

Maybe God did do me a favor by giving me some sort of courage I could summon. After all, according to Ernest Hemingway, maybe I always had grace; and once pushed to the limit, it became courage.

Honestly, I'm still not sure what grace really is. I think it looks different to every person who sees it. You see, I've come to realize that grace isn't something that is strived for and perfected. Rather, it is something that comes to you when it’s needed the most.

As women and moms, there are definitely times when grace eludes us.

The day of major screw-ups on our job when all we could manage to do was hide in the bathroom and have a good cry before attempting to fix anything.

The times in the grocery store when we are hauling our entire brood of kids on an epic trip to buy a week’s worth of food and toiletries; and after an hour of whining and begging and continuously searching for our lost toddler in the aisle we just left, WE have a meltdown. Grace definitely eludes us.

And you know what? That’s okay.

Because grace even comes in the form of knowing when we've blown it, blown up, and blown our tops. Knowing that we've been human and made a poor choice is a form of grace, too. Don't kid yourself about that.

Its easy for us to look at someone else and how they are managing a situation that seems hard and say, “Wow, she’s rocking it. She’s handling it with such grace.”

But what grace looks like to you is not always what grace looks like to me.

And how you handle a tough situation is only known when you are facing it. Right in the thick of the crappiest thing you have ever had to face, you will find grace. 

Even if you have to pull it from the depths of someplace you never knew existed, even if you have to do things you never thought you'd have to do, and ask people for things you promised yourself you never would, you will find grace. 

You will find grace when you need it the most.

Not necessarily when you are at the store with a spit-up stain on your shirt and a Hello Kitty sticker on your butt and your toddler is pulling every can off the shelf in aisle 3 and you think EVERYONE is looking at you (newsflash: they're really not).

But during the super important times.

The first time out with your new baby.

The first day of kindergarten.

The last day of high school.

The first broken heart.

The family crisis they can't know about just yet.

The diagnosis that you didn't see coming.

Grace will find you and buoy you up in it's soft embrace. 

And they'll say of you, You are handling this with such grace. I never could. 

And you will smile knowingly and say, Yes you could. 

I promise you, if I could find grace, so can you.

Just when you need it the most.

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5 School Supplies Teachers Really Want You to Donate

In some parts of the country, school starts in less than a month (in my neck of the woods, some kids go back next week!). School supplies are already dwindling in the bins, and the dollar aisle at Target is hot with deals.

Many cities have "Stuff the Bus" campaigns where you have the opportunity to donate school supplies that will go to needy students in high-need schools.

For the most part, I think this is a great idea. However, taxpayer dollars do pay for many of the supplies that public school children use. Regardless, there are always supplies that teachers end up buying out of their own pockets. With the average teacher salary in America at just a little over $55,000, that's a lot of one's own money to spend on consumable supplies. However, teachers do it because they want the best for their students. They want to make their classrooms exciting and colorful, and they want to give their students hands-on learning experiences that they will hopefully never forget.

I asked teachers on my Facebook page what supplies they could really use that the community could donate, and here's what they said:

1. Paper. Unfortunately for all the naturalists out there, paper is not going away as a staple for American learning. Not only is copy paper needed, but also:

• graph paper (I used this teach to my fifth graders long division - so much easier to keep all the columns straight in math!)
• writing paper
• computer printer paper 
• index/note cards, sticky notes (many special education teachers use these to help their students organize and categorize tasks and behavior)
• construction paper
• notebooks

*Get creative: I found blank books in the dollar aisle at Target. How fun would it be for budding artists and illustrators to use those for book making?

2. Cleaning and personal care supplies. An overwhelming number of teachers cited the need for such staples as Kleenex, antibacterial wipes, and hand sanitizer. Many school districts do not provide these. In a public school, you can't really ask parents to provide anything. Many do send their child with a box of tissues, but the few I used to get ran out quickly. 

*Tip: Check out big box stores like Costco and Sam's Club for great deals. 

3. Math, science, and art supplies. Have you heard of the STEM or STEAM initiative in our country? To make this work, schools need supplies for students to create, to innovate, and to motivate. I knew a lot of teachers who wouldn't do art projects or science experiments because they didn't have the proper supplies. Supplies needed include, but are not limited to, the following:

• straws
• paper clips
• drafting supplies
• computer software
• rulers
• glue (all types)
• clay
• pencils
• markers
• butcher paper

*Check out Pinterest, WeAreTeachers, and other websites to get an idea of the supplies STEAM classes might use. Or ask the school!

4. Time and Talent. Look, we all want our children to have hands-on learning experiences; but in order for that to happen, many times simply more hands are needed. Sometimes just having an extra body in the classroom is a god-send. If you have a specialized skill, such as computer programming or coding, offer to teach a few lessons. Some schools have had to cut music and art classes. Perhaps you could volunteer to teach an after school program for interested students.

*Words of advice: You'll never know if you don't ask.

5. Basic necessities. In some of the poorest schools and school districts, children come to school improperly dressed for the weather. They go home to no food on the shelves. Some children have accidents at school, and have no clothes to change into.

*Call your local school district to find out what needs they have OR Google "food and clothing donations to schools." Google gave me lists of cities like Portland, Atlanta, and others in Minnesota that have drives set up specifically to donate food and clothing for at-risk students.

My last two bits of advice would be these:

1. Ask your local school district or your child's classroom teacher what they need. It may be something as easy to find as stickers. Or it may be a greater need that you can help to fill.
2. I get frustrated every year at the long supply lists our boys' private school posts every year. At the end of the year, they bring home many unopened and unused supplies. Save these to either use again or donate the next year. Or cut the list in half, and get half at semester break to help defray the cost. 

When I was a teacher, I spent a lot of my own money in order to make my classroom a colorful, exciting, and fascinating learning environment. I could do that because I was single. Now with a family to support, I don't know if I would be willing to spend my hard-earned money and not get reimbursed. 

But you know what? I'm sure I probably would, as do many thousands of other teachers because they love their jobs and they love the children they teach. Your children. 

Why not take some of the tips and suggestions I've given you above and help make a classroom more exciting and stimulating for this year's crop of learners? 

Teachers, what did I leave off this list? What's on your wish list?