By Katharine Grubb
My 13-year-old daughter has lived her entire life allergic to dairy. This means that she can’t have milk, but she also can’t have ice cream, sour cream, cheese, items that are cheese flavored, whey, milk fat, milk chocolate, and butter. Her reactions include discomfort in her mouth, a closing in of her throat, and nausea. She has to miss out on a lot of things because of this problem, and we’re hoping she grows out of it, but while we have it to deal with, I feel like it’s changed my family and I for the better. Here’s why.
I’ve become a better cook. I find that by preparing everything we eat from scratch, I can guarantee that she will not react to it. I’ve learned to bake bread, make salad dressing, substitute ingredients, and stretch myself to meet her needs. As a result, we eat very well, ingest few preservatives and additives, and save money. This is a good thing
I’ve become a mean Momma Bear. My daughter depends on me to help her discern whether or not the well-intentioned neighbor with the plate of cookies can be trusted. Sadly, I’ve had to risk the feelings of friends because I can’t allow her to eat certain foods, like birthday cake at a party. If my kid reacts badly, then I always have to step in and protect her, regardless of the feelings of the other person. Sometimes the baker of the cookies understands the situation, but unfortunately, sometimes they don’t and I risk losing a friend. But my child comes first. My daughter feels protected because of my diligence.
I’ve learned not to assume anything. Labels on grocery items tell you everything nowadays, and I’m grateful that I can find out quickly if an item is okay for her to eat. Who knew that nacho cheese Doritos actually have cheese in them? And who knew that guacamole is dairy free, but guacamole dip isn’t? I’ve also learned to appreciate those adults around me, who in preparing food for her, take the time to do this.
I’ve learned to be discreet---at least I hope I have. She doesn’t want special attention over this, nor does she want to feel left out when everyone else goes out for pizza. I’ve had to learn delicacy and diplomacy in communicating her needs to others. I’ve not always succeeded in this, but I have tried and communicating is becoming easier.
Our family sticks by her. If she can’t buy ice cream from the truck at the park, then no one can. The whole family has taken ownership of her situation and helps her whenever they can. They also get very excited when someone offers them cheese!
I’m more compassionate toward health issues. Until my daughter’s allergy was discovered, I stupidly thought that food allergies were bids for attention or figments of imagination. Now I know they’re not and I’ve learned to ask parents about their child’s needs. I’m also grateful that we only have to avoid dairy -- it really isn’t so bad. A wheat allergy or a severe peanut one would be horrible.
She has learned thankfulness. Recently, she wondered, “why would anyone dislike any type of food? You should be grateful that you can eat what you can.” This allergy has made her wise.
Every dark cloud has a silver lining. I’ve decided not to complain about, but embrace, this one instead. We’re making our lives work just fine around this dairy allergy and we’re doing just fine.
Are you facing allergies with your children? How are you handling it?
By Karen Brown
Last year I came across an organization called Little Dresses for Africa; they make dresses for little girls living in orphanages in Africa. The dresses are simple, just crafted from pillowcases and bias tape. The dresses help show girls that they are worthy and loved by God, planting that message in their hearts.
As our mission team at REUNION made plans last year to head out for the Dominican Republic to serve and build relationships with the people of La Mosca, several of the women in our community thought it might be fun to make these dresses to send along for the little girls there. I had read here how others had a party to make dresses for African orphans. We were inspired…so we had a party, sewed some dresses and had a lot of fun in the process. Even people from our community who couldn’t attend the party made dresses on their own to send along as well.
Our team set out again this month to love on the Dominican people. Once more, we joined together in making dresses to send along. It’s one small way those of us not going on the trip can be a part of the big picture.
There is a very famous saying that it takes a village to raise a child. Kitschy or not, I think it’s true.
I am friends with a married couple who have six children. For most of these children’s lives, I was the only baby sitter/caretaker they knew. My friends entrusted me to care for their children. They taught their children to respect me and to listen to me. Over the years, I grew to model my disciplinary choices based on the behavior that these parents were teaching their children. Initially, I was unsure of what to say or how to care for these little ones. I grew up differently than the way they were raising these children. Inevitably, I disagreed with some of their methods or ways, but out of respect, I did what they desired because I knew they were training up their children in the way THEY thought they should go. Not in the way I would have them go. I knew my chance would come one day when I had my own children.
I will always be thankful for those moments of instruction I was able to provide for the kids, in something that they could do in a better way, because talking through things is my method. I would look up and watch their mom watching me and smiling, knowing I was imparting Godly wisdom to her children. It made me so happy to know that someday, this would be me with my children. I would like to imagine that she also thought she was letting me hone my parenting skills on her children.
Some bits of wisdom I took away from my time with this family and others were these:
1. Let other caretakers - family members and friends - in on your “big picture”. If they are to partner with you in your method of Godly upbringing, they will want to know that you don’t want the kids to watch Harry Potter, even though another parent in their circle may have no problem with it. Each parent has a different philosophy on how to raise their children. Each way is right. We want to respect that, but we won’t know unless you tell us.
2. Caretakers will want to impart some of their wisdom to your children. Let them. God is bringing these people into your children’s lives for a reason. Grandma may have a story of sharing that will speak to your little one in a way that is new. This does not detract from your discipline. It could also serve as an instructional tool later on... “Remember how Grandma taught you it is better to share? Well, she was right, wasn’t she?”
3. Keep them in the loop. A few days ago, I got a text message from one of the other kids I used babysit for. It said “Hi. This is Aiden. I miss you.” I haven’t seen the Browns in over a year. I am not a caretaker anymore. I may never be again to these sweet children, but I still have a connection to them and always will. As a parent, you need to understand that, insomuch as you have an intimate bond to the life you brought into this world, a caretaker will have a bond as well. It will not be as strong or the same, but it is still there. It is important to nurture these relationships. As your children become adults they will look back with fondness on the impact these caretakers made in their lives. I recently reconnected with a caretaker from my childhood. I remember very little about my time with her, but I do remember she loved me and invested time with me. It makes me so happy to know someone did that for me. Your children will not remember every person that passes through their life, but they will remember their caretakers.
Keep in mind, too, that you are a caretaker of sorts. This child is not yours ultimately, but a child of the King. You are but the chief of this village… enjoy your reign, and thanks for letting the villagers into your life.
By Julie Wilson
The other night our family watched the movie, Soul Surfer. It is a true story about a young woman who loves to surf. She lives in Hawaii, a perfect place for surfing to be a major part of her life. But after a shark attack changes her life forever, she is faced with a lot of questions.
Her faith in God is presented throughout the movie, as well as her family’s belief in God. After the attack, she is faced with the question, “Why?” She asks her youth minister why God allowed this attack to happen to her. How many times have we asked God that same question when faced with something terrible or something that we don’t understand?
This young woman, Bethany, has to find her purpose again. Before her attack she lived to surf, but you see throughout the movie how she changes. She goes on a mission trip and realizes there is more to life than just being a good surfer.
After the movie, we had a great discussion with our children. We talked about how Bethany’s faith helped her get through the most difficult challenge she had ever faced. We also talked about how God can take something terrible and use it for His glory.
I will say as a disclaimer, our girls ages 7 and 9 did turn away and not watch the part with the shark attack. We were being cautious, and we didn’t want them to be afraid. Overall though, we highly recommend the movie, it was a great starting point to have a discussion with our kids about how God gives us the strength to help us work through our fears and challenges.
By Katharine Grubb
Back in ’96, I was a new bride and my apartment had a problem. It was full of shiny objects.
These weren’t literal shiny objects, they were actually things that distracted me from my domestic work. Like a good book. Like a good magazine. Like a cooking show on Food Network. Like some intricate daydream that might become a novel or short story. Like calling my mother, or checking the mail, or my e-mail, or giving myself a manicure. My life was full of little things that kept me from my job of maintaining an orderly house.
My highly distractable (and possibly attention deficit) personality was a bad fit for domestic life. The dishes weren’t getting washed. The laundry wasn’t getting done. The vacuum cleaner was covered in dust.
To make matters worse, I married Mr. Clean. He came from a long line of clean “freaks”, who scoured every surface, had a place for every scrap of paper and never owned a “junk” drawer. He couldn’t understand that I had the concentration of a goldfish.
I had to do something to make my living space more sanitary and enjoyable and to make my Mr. Clean happy. The solution was my microwave timer. At first, I decided to set a small goal---five minutes on a task, like washing the dishes. I could work for five minutes and then spend a little time on my favorite things and go back. The timer on my microwave became the alarm, and I figured if anything else, it would go off and bring me back to the real world. Hey, what’s that alarm mean? Oh yeah, I’m supposed to be dusting! But the timer did more than that. It made me feel less overwhelmed and less intimidated by mindless tasks. And because I rewarded myself every five minutes, I felt like my stuff, (the writing, the reading and the general goofing off) was addressed, too.
After weeks of this, I graduated to ten minutes, but I’ve found I can’t go for much longer than that---I start to mentally drift. That’s OK. Every ten minutes, I’m getting things done. In fact, I’m working faster and more efficiently. If the timer went off with only a small bit left to do, say three or four dishes to wash, I just wash them and get the job done. I had never wanted to accomplish great domestic feats, but this system changed me. I was becoming more organized and more disciplined with my time.
I also discovered that most domestic chores can be done in less than ten minutes. Like the following:
•Sort the laundry and start one load.
•Fold one basket of clothing.
•Clean the bathroom.
•Vacuum one room in my house.
•Dust one room in my house.
•Clean out the refrigerator.
•Unload the dishwasher and fill it again.
•Wipe all the kitchen counters and sweep the floor.
•Compile a shopping list.
•Start (but not complete) dinner.
This isn’t an exhaustive list. There are many more tasks around the house that, if broken down in small chunks, can be done every other ten minutes. If I stay focused on these little tasks, for ten minutes at a time, then I’ve only worked an hour and a half. I have the rest of the day to do what I need to do for myself for my family.
If I have a lengthy list, things like call for dental appointments, or write an article or go to the library, I break it down into the smallest tasks possible, enlist the help of my children and keep setting my timer.
To this day, fifteen years after setting my timer for the first time, I still work this way. I wrote this article in ten-minute increments between cleaning my kitchen, dusting my living room, making meatballs, organizing my desk and folding three loads of laundry. This system works for me, and my much-busier household. By setting my timer, I find that I’m faster, happier and a better housekeeper.
Not everyone can do this. Many people have the natural inclination to stay focused, or like Mr. Clean, are so driven they don’t need a timer or reminder to get back to work. And some people would say that for all the energy I put into setting timers, I could have cleaned out the house five times, but that’s not the point. The point is that I found a weakness in how I work and I also found a solution. Wait, is that the ice cream truck???
This works for me. It could work for you.
Do you have attention problems around the house? What do you do to keep yourself focused?
