Momming

Did you know that there

are college degrees

in family science?

I never got it when I was younger.

Why would anyone

go to all that school

just to learn how to

be married and have a family?

Can't anyone do that?

Doesn't everyone do that?

I felt that those who majored

in family studies

were just doing so

because they wanted

an easy Bachelor's Degree.

Or they were looking

to build a resume

for their future spouse.

"Look at me,

I want to

spend eternity

in your kitchen."

The older I get,

and the more I attend

marriage counseling,

I am grateful for

the other suckers who

went through all the work

to help me to figure

out the complicated

parts that I never

understood back then.

And honestly: still don't.

But,

just like everyone else,

sometimes,

I get it right,

without any studying at all.

Sometimes I get it right

out of sure dedication

and practice.

In the kitchen,

I need no therapy.

I am the boss.

In one small area

I've got the momming down

to a science.

I'm a PHDmf.

People Hone Down

(my food)

Here is a photo

for evidence.

Tuesday afternoon

this is what my kitchen counter looked like

right before I headed

out to my real job.

(ha ha - we all know

momming is my real job)

white chicken chili, homemade bread,

and after-school cookies

Let me brag for a moment.

Just the other day,

while we were on our way to soccer

Abigail received a text

from a charming young man

with whom we attend church.

We had taken his family

some cookies the day before.

He said,

and I quote,

"I would marry you

just so I could get your mom

in the deal."

Fist pumps were had

all around.

This little exchange

made my day.

Add to the fact

that Abigail's boy buddy

at school

(who has learned to cook

out of sheer desperation

because his mom doesn't)

calls me

"the regular Rachel Ray."

And

The neighborhood

adolescents' each have

their own

favorites of mine

whether it be

pumpkin bread,

rolls,

cinnamon rolls,

chocolate chip cookies,

cake pops,

homemade bread,

pizelles,

or pizza.

Yeah I screw up

in the momming

category

often.

But today I just want to take

 a moment to scream from my laptop:

"Guess what?

When it comes to

momming,

all it takes

is some skill in the kitchen!"

Momming comes naturally.

It comes best

while wearing an apron.

You can't learn it at college.

The reason any food is good

is because

the cooking of it has been

practices and practiced

and mixed,

and spooned,

and baked,

with LOVE

til it reaches

the status of

perfection.

God had it all figured out.

He gave us plenty of time

to get it right while they are young

and didn't know any different.

By the time

they just want to hang out with their friends

the moms who have put

in the most

hours

WIN!

They can't resist bringing

their friends home

for some down home food.

They don't know it

but they are all getting 

some good old momming

all of the time.

Every bite

includes a

subliminal message

"drugs are bad"

"believe in yourself"

"I love you"

"I'm always here for you"

I might still have a bunch

of stuff to figure out, 

but when I think of

my success in the kitchen,

I know

that even

without a college degree

I'm doing pretty good.

It's not that complicated.

It's called I love my kids

enough to cook for them.

No matter how else I screw up,

I know one thing.

As long as I feed everyone

til I die

I'll always

keep them coming

back for more.

Did I mention

that my girls

have all been fighting

over who gets

which  recipes of mine when they

get married?

I told them I would

make them each their own

recipe box.

Maybe I won't have to cook til I die

after all.

Thank goodness.

My fashion designer

I posted about Sophia the other day
and it got me thinking I should brag on my other girls too.

This is Abigail.
She is so super creative.
Which is interesting
because she is even more smart
than she is creative.
I think smart and creative
can be a
dynamic duo
towards an amazing life
full of discovery.

Here is Abigail's
50's outfit
she threw together
for a dress up day
back in Fall.

She is pretty amazing.
She is our go-to girl
for all things
fashion, hair, and make-up.

I so appreciate that she has taken on this role as it's not one that I want. At all. This girl loves clothes and shoes. I took her to a half-off day at the thrift store on Monday and she picked out nothing. I went to check her temperature and she said, "Mom, I really am getting a handle on my shopping addiction." I do take pride that as a mother we have created a family where open communication is not just encouraged but valued above mostly anything else. I want nothing more than real for me and my little family. Sometimes it can be painful to navigate through the real, but anything less would be a life of denial and fake.

This year Abigail took a Tech class at school where she as the only girl learned the beginnings of engineering.
She was really good at it and kept right up with all the male students. Her teacher sang her praises to me. That's my Abigail. She refuses to conform to society's norms. She says she wants to be a surgeon when she grows up. She loves to dissect things. I do believe she can do it. Even though she's not inherently organized she is extremely disciplined when she chooses to be and she is as bright as her hero Einstein.

Abigail is athletic  She lives for soccer. She is a great runner: fast. She is fun to watch on the field as she can always catch any other player even from halfway down the field. She makes a great mid-fielder. She got the PE award at school last year. This may seem kind of funny when you consider how smart this girl is, but it's totally perfect as she loves healthy living. She loves to be active, she will be the first to tell you when she needs to move. Moving helps keep her ADHD in control and so Abigail takes PE at school if she has holes to fill. When Abigail was a toddler her favorite foods were milk and salad. She continues to live in this tradition: eating the healthy choice over the non-healthy 9 times out of 10. LG and I watch her green with envy whenever she eats dessert. She can eat whatever she wants and has to focus on weight gain. No fair!

She also loves music. She loves to sing in choir and she can always be found attached to her iTunes  watching YouTube videos, or plunking away on our piano. She is so much like her dad in the smarts that I forget that she is also a lot like me too. She is teaching herself how to play piano just like I did (she, like me, doesn't have the patience to take lessons.)

She is also a total extrovert. She gets her social side from me. She gets her easy-going from her dad. She is learning to have more meaningful relationships and to be more considerate of others' feelings. In one way the fact that she is wired without an overabundance of emotion is really nice: 1.less drama and 2.she makes her way fine in a man's world, but in another way it has been a challenge as Abigail struggles to understand other people with an overabundance of emotion. She forgets that people have feelings. It is so fun to watch her with her best friend Katie who we love and adore and would adopt if we could. We so appreciate Katie's total acceptance and loyalty to Abigail. It has been the driving force behind Abigail trying to learn to be more kind: she will never admit it but I think she wants to be like Katie in this regard.

Abigail is gorgeous which means that there is always a plethora of boys trying to vie for her attention. She is only 13 1/2 and has been dragged into the world of boys too soon for her own good. She has had two experiences where she has let boys too close and then felt suffocated. From a mother's point of view this is a good thing, but it has also been hard to see Abigail trying to make sense of it all. I guess that is the part that makes letting your kids grow up the hardest: you don't want them to hurt and you don't want your kids to hurt others. It seems though that Abigail has learned a lot about herself from those experiences and that is all a mother can ask for really.

Take it all away. Say Abigail gets into a life-changing accident where she no longer is pretty or athletic or smart, what is she? I have thought about this often. One of Abigail's life challenges is being praised for her abilities, it seems to mess with her sense of worth. She feels a pressure to live up to her picture perfect expectations. In fact this year at school when she had an assignment in choir to go out of  her comfort zone for a week, Abigail chose to wear sweats and no make-up to let go of her perfect image. Thank you to good teachers who really teach the important things in life, this is a project that will stay with Abigail forever. I hope she will learn to be true to herself and her morals and never do anything just for the sake of people pleasing.

Here are some inherent personality traits of Abigail:
curious
open-minded
determined
creative
hands on
energetic
adventurous
fun
funny
detail-oriented
risk-taker
courageous
analytical
observant
spontaneous
capable
durable

I love my Abigail. We adore her. We know she has it hard being the oldest but we so appreciate the example that she sets for her sisters. I am so proud to have such a capable daughter. I know she will be able to accomplish anything she wants to do and I can't wait to see all that her life will hold. I just kind of hope that sometime somewhere down the road her and I will be able to take some cool adventures together. If I have to travel I want Abigail to come with me. She can figure out anything. She's plain awesome.

We will have a perfectly happy picture!

My mother-in-law requested family photos for Christmas.

In an effort to keep the Christmas budget,

we opted for my mad raw camera skills.

Yeah, I took one photography class

so that makes me qualified right?

Wrong.

So very wrong.

Add in
a dog on a leash,

a crappy crappy tri-pod

some cold weather

and a

"as stubborn as I'll get out"

nine-year-old

and

wa-la

eventually

you have me screaming:

"We will get a perfectly happy picture.

Gosh danget."

That got some smiles.

We can always count on laughter

to see us through.

And laugh, we did.

Like always.

Here are some good outtakes.

I was trying to test the shot
and I had already set the timer
so they entertained themselves
through the 10 sequential shots.

We got a bunch of great shots
and in about 10 of them
Caroline was sticking out her tongue.

I like to call this one
"Don't drop the dog."

The funniest part was that
I had no idea this was even happening.

When we got home, 

Sophia came into my room and said,

"Mom I learned something important today.

You can't put a dog in the simba pose for a picture

like you can a cat."

It wasn't until I went in to edit the photos that

I understood what she was talking about.

Please, don't eat my head.

 These are the best that we got.

I really like how the scarf pose

turned out

minus Abigail's expression

and the random blanket

on the grass.

Don't even worry about the discarded

old fashioned sled.

Geez.

I really don't know what I am doing.

We got our perfectly happy pictures.

Merry Christmas Faye.
These will be on their way to you
in your Christmas package
as I know you won't be able to figure
out how to print them from here.

Oh and sorry,
I forgot to do a pose
with LG.

Maybe next year.

The Art Fart

I really hope Sophia doesn't decide to read the blog today.

I do believe she'd die of embarrassment.

I must write though

because it's stories like this that I don't want to forget.

And I do forget.

I forget as early as next week if I don't write it down.

LG's been playing with new camera more than me. I love it.

We finally got Sophia into an art class.

She has shown a real propensity for art since she was a toddler,

and I am so grateful we finally have the means to help her along.

Check out her very first project.

I dare you to say she's anything less than a prodigy.

And now, here's a little art fart funny from Friday.
I went into the studio to tell Sophia that I was there to take her home.
She was happily working on a picture of SpongeBobSquarePants in colored pencil.
Next to her was the cutest boy about the same exact age
working on what looked like a tribal tattoo.
They were both having a blast doing the art thing while bantering back and forth.
It made this mom very happy to see Sophia in her element.
When you know something about your kid, you just know.
And I have always known that Sophia has the soul of an artist.

Minutes later Sophia bounds out to the car and we head home.
I zone out thinking about all I have to do
to get out the door that evening in time for
a friend's birthday party and a choral concert of my nephew at BYU.
All of the sudden Bella and Sophia are cracking up.
I ask them what was so funny.
Through fits of laughter they tell me.

Sophia - Nooooooo, don't tell her.
Bella - I have to. Sophia likes __________!! (I can't remember his name)
Me - (Not surprised in the least.) What' so funny about that?
Sophia - Nothing. Nothing.
Bella - Well, Sophia and _______ were messing around hitting each other and being silly.
Sophia - STOP! Bella don't tell her.
Bella - And then Sophia...
Sophia - (butting in because if the story is going to be told, she's going to tell it) We were just playing around, and all of the sudden I farted. It just came out. I couldn't help it.
Me - Oh my gosh, how embarrassing. Did you just die?
Bella - It gets worse mom.
Sophia - So then the teacher comes in and asks us if we need anything.
Bella - And _____________ says, "Do you have a clothespin?"
Me - Did it stink?
Sophia as red as a beat - "I guess so."

This may not seem funny to any of you, but it's moments like this when I just love being a mom. It is so fun to watch your kids grow up and become adults who are embarrassed by bodily functions.

Now, here is something to make it up to Sophia whenever she reads this story.
Sophia brought this home last year from school after the class all wrote down anonymous compliments.
She is one cool kid, even with the gassy gas.

And me, you ask?

How's the photography going?

Well, it's going when I squeeze in the time.

Here is one of my practice shots

while I was outside the art studio waiting on Sophia.

We are learning about aperture.

Photography is art.

Maybe I should leave it up to Sophia.

It's a lot more complicated then I expected.

(That's why I've dragged LG into the hobby,

he's my scientific go-to man.)

Check out my the website of my super cool teacher.

Here's a photo of another one of my cool kids.

She's taking a cooking class right now.

I've always known that Bella would grow up to be a beautiful cook.

Shooting action is more difficult

especially without the right lens

but here is our Abigail.

I always knew she'd grow up to be a soccer star.

Caroline.

Notice that she's reading dad a bed-time story.

At 6 pm.

That's how it goes around here.

Isn't he cute?

I do believe my car is in need of a wash.

And here is LG's latest project.

An expose about the life of a housewife.

Cleaning, cleaning, cleaning.

All the time.

Even on Sunday.

Race #2

The whole family participated in a 5k together.

I would say it was our first, but LG did one last year with all the girls.

Caroline didn't join us this time.

We got a sitter.

It was a great time

and we appreciated the chance to have some family fun

while exercising AND helping raise money for the kids school.

Have I ever told you how much I love my man?

Thanks LG for supporting me in my crazy adventures.

It was a small race,

but Abigail was 14th overall.

If she would have passed one female

she would have won a top 3 prize.

Funny she doesn't really "run" persay,

but soccer really is a great sport for overall athleticism.

Next year Abigail's goal will be to beat Ms. Shepherd

who was 2 minutes faster than her.

I was happy with my time.

32:35.

That is almost a two minute improvement 

from my first race in January.

I'll take it!

Little Miss Sophia came in 6 places behind me.

At the beginning of the race she was sticking right with me,

I thought she would beat me,

but all my training brought me in 5 minutes ahead of her.

LG was the best dad and stayed with Bella the whole way.

At the end I ran back to them

and offered to carry Bella up the hill

but LG said "NO WAY ALICE -

She has to finish by herself."

What a smart dad.

This is what we all looked like at the finish.

Go Gold family.

Go here for official race results.

My dearest Abigail

My dearest Abigail,

Last week I wrote a whole post just for you 

after you sarcastically questioned what I do all day.

It took me an hour to write.

In detail I explained how my life revolves

around task completion.

80% of those tasks,

I do just for the happiness of my husband and kids.

When I switched from my laptop to my phone

to add this cute picture of your baby sister Caroline

(because it captured what I love about being a mom)

I lost the whole post.

I think God was watching out for me

because I intended to enter that post in an essay contest.

A few days later I thought of something better.

So instead of boring you with what I do all day,

here are my deepest thoughts about motherhood.

These are the thoughts I was too afraid to pen the first time

because I didn't think I could do the topic justice.

How privileged we are to share the sacred name of mother.

Joseph Smith once said,

 “A man filled with the love of God, is not content with blessing his family alone, but ranges through the whole world, anxious to bless the whole human race."

I cannot explain myself without this quote. I am at a loss of words to communicate the depth of motherhood. The sanctity of it. The power and pride I feel at being among some of the most noble humans on earth. 

I have been pondering motherhood for several weeks now and writing an essay that captures my thoughts is daunting. Yet, that quote by the wise Joseph Smith explains so simply exactly what I concluded.

Motherhood isn't limited to those who have given birth. It isn't even limited to a certain sex or age. Motherhood is a noun, but like it's counterpart charity, it's also a verb. In fact, motherhood is charity. Charity at its purest. You know how the Bible teaches that God is love. Well, I am here to tell you that motherhood is love.

Another wise prophet said that 

"motherhood is the highest, holiest service assumed by mankind."

Let me put this in math terms for you my dear Abigail

since it's one of your best subjects.

God is love.

Motherhood is the closest we come to godhood.

a=b, c=a, therefore c=b.

I am chuckling at myself because 

I don't even know if those equations are correct,

but you will.

I look forward to you correcting or congratulating me.

Isn't it amazing that I am your mother,

but you are smarter than me at math?

That's another thing about motherhood,

that I can't go into today.

Let me just say this:

anyone can be a mother.

Anyone can give love.

Anyone.

And everyone should

because love is desperately needed by so many.
Nothing is more disturbing than a mother without love.

I would like to tell you 2 of my most beloved family stories.

One is about my grandma and one is about my mom.

These stories capture motherhood.

I hope to be just like the women I came from.

I hope that for you too.

They are the closest thing I have on this earth

to know what God is really like.

If I want to know how I can be like God,

all I have to do is think about my mom and grandma.

My first story is one the greatest stories of the life of my Grandma Dorothy.

Years ago, in the 60's,

there was a department store clerk who was really rude to her.

Her two daughters were outraged.

This was an outing they had scrimped and save for.

They were going to buy their mom her first item of clothing

from a nice fancy store.

Grandma walked them out of that fancy smanchy place

and took them down the street.

She purchased a cheap scarf and a box with a bow

at the corner Woolworth's.

The corner five and dime was a place 

where she shopped the most comfortably.

She took the gift back to the rude sales lady

and said,

"I thought you must be having a really hard day,

and I wanted to cheer you up."

The woman started to cry

and told my grandma, mom, and aunt

that she had been so grumpy ever since her husband had died

and felt like nobody cared about her

and she apologized.

My grandma gave her a mother's hug

and told her that people did care.

My mom and her sister Shirley

stared on in awe of their amazing mother

and her humility, grace, and love.

It's women like Grandma Dorothy that

truly make this world a place worth living.

Their accomplishments aren't even recognized by the world

like those of politicians, athletes, scientists, and authors

but they mean everything to those who need it most.

Knowing what kind of woman my Grandma Dorothy was

will help you understand the kind of woman my mom is.

In 1985 or so another family legend occurred.

My mom and dad and my six brothers and sisters and I

were leaving Chuck E. Cheese.

We walked out into the parking lot to find an ensuing gang fight.

Weapons were drawn.

My mom walked right up to the two kids in the front

and said,

"Boys, why are you fighting?

It breaks our hearts."

She then turned to my dad and said,

"Rick, buy these boys some pizza.

They fight because they have nothing better to do.

And they need to know that people care."

To me, there will never live greater heroes then my mom and dad.

As I watched my dad (with so many mouths to feed already

and a limited paycheck) fork out the cash to feed

20 gang members I was in awe.

Even more inspiring was the sight of my mom seating all those rivals

across from each other in the showroom.

She so easily spoke to each one,

bantered with them, and loved them into their seats.

They had put their weapons away

and were anxiously waiting for their pizzas as the big gorilla sang

"so happy together."

I watched with a little trepidation but mostly I was beaming with pride.

Especially as I saw my oldest brother,

(your Uncle Erick)

who was a little younger than these boys

follow in the foots of his parents

and sit down with the kids to chat.

As you know Erick is now a football coach and a teacher.

He loves on big tough kids every day.

I personally think he would be very smart if he tries to live his whole life

for just one moment like that from long ago.

And I think that he is living his life for that.

He wants to be embody the finest of motherhood.

(Don't tell his football team that.)

Is motherhood not loving the forgotten and the unlovable?

My mom is loved by so many.

Many many times as a teenager

I would come home to see someone else's kid

sitting at our kitchen table.

My mom would be wrapping up her pep-talk

telling them just how loved they were

and how capable and blessed.

She expected the best from everyone's kids.

She did this because if she knew one thing in this world

it was that love conquers all.

Love makes the world go round.

Love is all you need.

Grandma Dorothy didn't think she was defining motherhood

during that simple little act of service

given in that small frame of time

in a place that no one noticed.

She was just being the person that she always was.

She was being a person who loves.

She was being a mother.

My mom didn't love on kids because

she wanted some kind of recognition,

she did it because love was instilled in her

by her mother.

Forty something years later

because of this story

Grandma Dorothy's grandaughter (me)

would hand over the fresh flowers she had just splurged on

to the cashier at Wal-Mart.

The elderly cashier had just confided

that she was feeling lonely this holiday season.

It would be her first without her husband.

I told her, "Please take these flowers;
I really feel like your husband wants you to have them

as a reminder that he loves you and is watching over you."

Tears filled both of our eyes.

Motherhood was revealed in this tender exchange.
Motherhood and love.

Yes, my dearest Abigail, motherhood is a verb.

It is love.

Someday in the near future

(maybe even today)

I imagine you reaching out

to someone in need:

a kid at school who is obviously neglected, a homeless person,

a friend who is lonely, a new neighbor, or the sick, poor, elderly, downtrodden.

I imagine the smile that will cross your face.

It will be exactly like that smile you got in the car

that day when your buddy Ryan revealed he

got a rose at school from a secret admirer.

He was so happy and dumbfounded.

He had no idea it had come from you

because you had noticed that he didn't get anything.

I will never forget your smile.

I made sure to see it in the rear-view mirror

while driving home the carpool.

You probably thought I was looking at Ryan,

but I was really looking at you.

In that moment, in you,

I saw my mom and my grandma.

I saw the face of God.

The face of love.

Yes! a=b, c=a, b=c.

Even if that isn't correct math

my dearest Abigail,

I hope you will always remember

that motherhood is love.

And you can be a mother

at all times, in all places, and in all things.

And nothing will make you happier.

This post was written for my dearest Abigail and the nienie "motherhood is" essay contest

and anyone else who will be inspired to be a better person by my amazing mom and grandma.

Thanks be to God for giving me the inspiration and the courage to write it.


I just read that I was limited to 500 words, here's the short version. Not as good.

My dearest Abigail,

Motherhood isn't limited to those who have given birth. It isn't even limited to a certain sex or age. Motherhood is a noun, but it's also a verb. Motherhood is charity. Charity at its purest. You know how the Bible teaches that God is love. Well, I am here to tell you that motherhood is love.

Let me tell you two of my most beloved family stories to illustrate my point.

Years ago, in the 60's,

there was a department store clerk who was really rude to my Grandma Dorothy.

Her two daughters were outraged.

Grandma walked them out of that fancy place

and took them down the street.

At the corner Woolworth's,

she purchased a cheap scarf and a box with a bow.

She took the gift back to the rude sales lady

and said,

"I thought you must be having a really hard day,

and I wanted to cheer you up."

The woman started to cry

and told my grandma, mom, and aunt

that she had been so grumpy ever since her husband had died

and felt like nobody cared about her

and she apologized.

My grandma gave her a mother's hug

and told her that people did care.

Next, around 1985 another family legend occurred.

My mom and dad and my six siblings and I

were leaving Chuck E. Cheese.

We walked out into the parking lot to find an ensuing gang fight.

Weapons were drawn.

My mom walked right up to the front kid and said,

"Boys, why are you fighting?

It breaks our hearts."

She then turned to my dad and said,

"Rick, buy these boys some pizza.

They fight because they have nothing better to do.

And they need to know that people care."

How inspiring was the sight of my mom seating all those rivals

across from each other in the showroom.

She so easily spoke to each one,

bantered with them, and loved them into their seats.

They had put their weapons away

and were anxiously waiting for their pizzas as the big gorilla sang

"so happy together."

I watched with a little trepidation but mostly I was beaming with pride

as the power of loving others burned into my heart.

Yes, my dearest Abigail, motherhood is a verb.

You are the best of motherhood.

You proved it the day you

got a rose at school for your buddy Ryan.

He hadn’t received any all week

and you sent him one as his secret admirer.

I will never forget your smile

as he showed us his rose on way home from school.

I made sure to look at you in the rear-view mirror

while driving home the carpool.

You probably thought I was looking at Ryan,

but I was really looking at you.

In that moment, in you,

I saw my mom and my grandma.

I saw the face of motherhood.

The face of God.

The face of love.

Boundaries

Abigail is gonna kill me for sharing this photo.

I'd like to entitle it

For The Love of Bacon.

This girl can actually out-eat her mom

when it comes the Western Bacon Cheeseburgers.

She also happened to get Straight A's last term.

It was a big deal

because we didn't require it of her 

or offer any rewards or anything.

She just decided she could apply herself better

and she did.

We were so proud.

But, this post isn't about that.

I just wanted to explain why I bought 

her a Western  Bacon Cheeseburger.

We were celebrating

her awesomeness.

She makes us so proud

in so many ways.

I had a profound experience yesterday

and while I was just showering it dawned on me

that I was able to apply the lessons I have learned

about boundaries.

It also donned on me that boundaries

are really just agency.

God has taught us all about agency.

I thought about how so many people don't get how 

to utilize the principle of agency in their lives.

They let people intrude on their agency

and they intrude on others' agency without knowing it.

Yesterday I dropped Abigail off at a Valentine's Party.

It was at the home of a boy that I don't know at all.

When I dropped her off, 

I walked her in and met some of the kids.

I was especially interested in the host.

He explained that their chaperon 

for the night was his 25 year old brother.

I immediately cringed and questioned,

"Is he a good 25 year old brother or 

is he the kind that is going to buy you beer as soon as I turn my back?"

The kid's reaction was very telling.

He looked shocked and said, "No way, he's not that kind."

I reminded Abigail to have fun.

I silently checked to make sure I had covered 

all the lecture bases on the way over.

Don't go anywhere alone. Check.

If there is anything inappropriate 

and I find out later that you didn't call 

with the key emergency word 

which means to come and get you now 

then you will not be trusted 

to go to other parties in the future.

Check.

You do remember the emergency word?

You do remember what things are inappropriate?

Yes mom. I know.

But I still had an uneasy feeling.

I sat out in the car and texted Abigail and told her how I felt.

I asked her if she would go in the bathroom 

and pray about whether or not I should leave her there.

She texted back and said "I am staying."

I then went to the neighbor across the street 

that showed signs of a bunch of kids living there 

and questioned them if they thought I could trust this boy and his brother.

They assured me that they were "good people."

I prayed and felt o.k. and then I called LG and he said he felt alright.

So I drove home.

Later in the evening, when we got the low down from Abigail 

about the party I asked her,

"Did you really go in the bathroom and pray?"

She surprised me and said, 

"Yes I did mom, and I felt o.k. about staying."

I was floored. Was she just telling me what I wanted to hear?

I do believe she was telling me the truth.

I thought about that this morning.

I thought about how I didn't intrude on my daughter's agency.

I thought about how I acted like God.

I was a concerned parent, I communicated those concerns,

but then I laid the decision making where it belonged:

in my daughter's lap.

I thought about how I was proud 

that I had taught her how to pray 

and listen for the still small voice to communicate with her.

LG and I have taught her to go to the ultimate source of wisdom:

not him and I, but to our loving and all-knowing God.

I then thought of all my friends who control their kids.

Who don't let them utilize agency.

Who don't allow them to grow and learn.

Which in turn keeps them from seeking out God in their lives.

And also in turn makes them want to rebel against being controlled.

I thought even deeper about why God gives us agency.

He wants us to learn to be like Him.

He doesn't want to control us.

Because He knows that would make us resentful.

He has a perfect knowledge of boundaries,

and he doesn't intrude on our boundaries.

And he doesn't let us intrude on His.

Agency was awesome last night.

I am sure there will be days when my kids will choose wrong,

and I will dislike agency,

but I will come back to this post

and remember this incident

and know that agency is vital

and that agency is awesome

because it's only the agency

that we can see our kids grow up

and make their own great decisions.

Don't control people.

Do this.

"Teach them correct principles and let them govern themselves."