Confessional

When I hear/read about Ferguson, MO this is image that comes to mind

This photo was taken 2 years ago at a reunion for our elementary/middle school class.  I love this picture.  Because I love them (clearly its not the best photo of me to date).  This is what I think of when I hear of a young man of color shot to death.   I think of Tony who is pictured on my left.  When we were in 11th grade we wanted to have an adventure 'like on television" so he borrowed his sister's car and we went for a joyride.  Thank God we weren't stopped because being black in a car not technically yours with a white girl on the passengers side was not going to end well for us.  Kareem is on the other side of me.  Also in 11th grade he tried to teach me how to parallel park.  I drove a white Nova he drove a fire engine red Volvo- he failed as I was a horrible driver and even worse at parking.   I bet Kareem got pulled over in that Volvo- he never told me he did and he didn't have to.  I also remember Kareem always always made me laugh, even as far back as 7th grade. He never teased me and always had a kind word for me.

And on the other end is Ray- Raphael if you didn't grow up with him but I did so he is still Ray to me.  Kareem didn't have to tease me because Ray did enough for everyone.  Ray is the closest I came to having a brother.  Ray and I used to swing on the flagpole before school in 6th grade.  He could tickle me until I cried, we cried on each other's shoulders throughout junior high and high school over school yard crushes and real life loss.  Ray could make me madder than anyone else and I fought with him like I did with my sister.  He taught me to play tunk in the basement with his uncles, I cautioned against the neck tie on the first day of school (he didn't listen).  Before every prom his Mom, and sister would come over with him so we could take our prom pictures then he'd go pick up his date and the do the same thing again.  I share so much history with all of these men and this photo reminds me of all of it.

Two of the three have sons of their own now.  And each time I hear about Trayvon Martin or Michael Brown I think of them and their sons, and I say a prayer for their safety.  My experience and friendship with them is unusual and maybe even rare- and I wonder how many times they came close to being at the wrong place at the wrong time.  So when I see press conferences and police statements and vigils the truth is I have to turn away because when they flash the picture (and they are always flashing pictures) or showing the video tape I see my brothers, and I see us when we were kids and I see us now.  The turning away makes me feel ashamed.  Because they can't turn away and I can.

In a recent post Anne Lamott said she would prefer God had a "magic wand instead of a raggedy love army of helpers"  and I couldn't agree more.  Its very tiring being a part of a raggedy love army.  But that's all I know to do- all any of us can do.  Show up, show love and keep going.  So I am going to stop hiding from the news and start hoping that my story will be better because of it.  I know my story is better because of the friendship of these men.

Open House

Another invite by Smilebox

We don't speak "Whinese" here...

Pet parenting peeve?  Whining- oh my LORD I cannot stand it.  We have a hard and fast rule in this house you  never get what you want by whining.  When Robert and Ethan were smaller I would tell them that whining hurt my ears, now I tell them that we don't speak Whinese and they need to try again so that I can understand them.   But as we all know its far easier to preach than practice and so this morning I had a whole internal conversation in Whinese....I don't want to go to work, I hate cleaning the house why do we have to celebrate Halloween for whole freaking month?(Seriously, Halloween is out of control people put on a mask grab some candy be done with it).

I can rant with the best of them and this internal whining could have gone on interminably.  Until- I heard about a family in our community that a got a piece of devastating life altering news.  I don't know the family personally- but it shut up my inner whiner pretty quickly.  Halloween excess, dirty dishes in the sink and a crazy work schedule are all evidence of my having blessings beyond measure.  So the whine fest is over for awhile.

There is a phrase I use in my work a lot,  Radical Acceptance.  It means to accept that which is without the need to change it in the next five minutes.   That's what I am working toward today. And just to drive the point home for me this was on the sign in front of Robert's school :
"Patience is the ability to accept difficult situations without a deadline".    Radical acceptance, patience, peace of mind whatever you call it-  there is no word for it in Whinese.  

Excuse my while I put on my big girl clothes and get busy learning the language of gratitude and acceptance.

Back to school

Its back to school time here in the land of sunshine and grits and football.  Which means that after I packed backpacks, made lunches, made a halfhearted at best attempt to take a Back to School photo of all the boys I spent hours a few minutes looking over everyone's photos and comments.  And among the sea of backpacks and Vera Bradley lunchboxes and barely managed cowlicks and new shoes and sorority girls in white dresses I see so much to be thankful for.   For teachers willing to teach, students ready to learn, Moms and Dads preparing their children of every age for the world.  But I also know that at my house we barely found a brush (hiding in a suitcase last used 6 weeks ago leading to the conclusion someone hasn't been brushing their hair) and socks (an ongoing and disheartening battle in a house full of boy- matching socks) and I rejoiced not at the idea my kiddos were off to conquer the world but that I had 20 minutes to drink a cup of coffee and look at Facebook do research.  

We all know that FB is for cute pictures of kids, and Pinterest is for crafts that I never attempt but aspire to.  But my own attempt at a FB worthy BTS photo made me think about what isn't on FB and say a prayer for those things.   For the kids who are scared to go to school, for the kids who are scared to go home from school, for the parents who don't know how to afford 12 different folders and for the kids whose parents don't know they need folders.  For the teachers that are burned out, underpaid and ready to quit but hanging on for one more year before retirement.  For the kids who are too sick to go to school, and the ones who go anyway.  For all these and more I said a special prayer and I sent my boys out into the world with the hope they will be kind and compassionate to all those kids in pretty hairbows and smocked dresses and equally kind to the ones in torn shirts and hand me down shoes.  Because  that's the lesson I really want them to learn, to be kind and compassionate and look a little deeper than Facebook or Instagram or Twitter.

Now if you'll excuse me I have a back to school tradition to Pin but not really complete....

Last spring I took my oldest to the pediatrician and when I had to write down "what concerns bring you here today"  I wrote the following : "Someone is leaving her today with a prescription me or my son I don't care who"  While I was kidding (sort of) I often see/hear some version of this from frustrated parents when school begins.   My oldest is very bright, and likely borderline ADHD- but after a thorough assessment with our doctor, teachers, counselors etc we have elected not to medicate him at this time.  (I didn't get any either despite my initial request).  Which is not to say we are not treating the problem, just not through medication at this time.
 Many parents struggle with this dilemma- what exactly is ADD/ADHD and what interventions are available? I found an infogrpahic that may be helpful:

Explore more infographics like this one on the web's largest information design community - Visually.

Work/Play

I am always a social worker, and always a Mommy.  I try really hard not to "social work" (I know not a real verb) my family.  Despite my best efforts to keep my roles separate the two overlap many times.  Last week's bombing in Boston and the explosion in Texas prompted me to go in to full social worker mode.  Turning off the news programs, answering my precocious 9 (almost 10) year old's questions in a reassuring way and generally feeling pretty good about myself.  Then yesterday my four year old gave me this picture.

  And this is what he said about it "This is a picture of bombs going off everywhere.  People put bombs in trash cans and then it exploded."

My heart and stomach sank.  I tried so hard to shield him from the violent distrubing images thrust upon us and yet somehow this.  It is a stark reminder of what I tell families almost everyday, that children soak up so much more than we ever realize.  That even while we tell ourselves "they are too young to understand" children pick up many cues about what is happening around them and they assimilate those clues in ways that make sense to them.

But it is also a reminder that children's work is the work of play.  My son wasn't frightened or upset by his drawing, or what it represented.  In fact, he may  not even realize that it is a drawing of something  in the "real world."  By drawing the things he doesn't understand or that may confuse and frighten him he gains mastery and control.   He makes his world safer through the work of play.  My work with children (including my own) is to help facilitate that control and mastery.  Work and play are not that different for children, and sometimes for Social Work Mommies.

One Of Those Weeks

This was one of those weeks.  One of those weeks where the days are long the evenings short and by Wednesday I feel like I've been juggling for a month  .But these are the times when I try to find and cherish the small moments.  This week I sat with adoptive parents and birth parents and foster parents and babies and teenagers, and I saw joy born of grief.  And I celebrated the passage of time and what life can bring when you are open to change.

 Then I cam home and bandaged  cuts and iced boo boos and soothed hurt feelings and tended my own little flock.  I shared pancakes, tea, and British melodramas with my Mom.  Then finally on Friday the boys helped me to welcome the hubby home from a work trip.  This week brought tears of frustration and tears of laughter. I turned around and my baby was a toddler and my big boy was crushing hard on the class beauty and my toddler turned into a preschooler.

 It was a hard week but also a good week to be a social worker and a Mommy.  Can't wait to see what next week brings...

Some days I think the Mommy part of my job description is the hardest, other days the Social Worker seems daunting.  Then there are days when the two collide and leave me broken wide open.  This past weekend was one of those times.

    Friday I was in full on Mommy mode.  Hunter was home and we were preparing to go out of town for Christmas with my Dad's family.  I was busy packing and running errands.  Somewhere in the day I looked at my Twitter feed and commented almost casually to Hunter "there has been another school shooting."  Then we finished our errands and went to pick up our oldest son from school and hit the road.  For the first time all day I was able to see the details of the massacre at Sandy Hook Elementary School.
 My heart broke with each detail I read.  As a Mom I thought back to Robert's casual announcement a few weeks ago they'd had an "intruder drill" where they hid behind things. At the time I was a little shocked they practiced such things, but now I couldn't stop thinking about it.  Wondering if those poor children had practiced the same thing with their brave teachers.
       As a social worker I thought of all the hurting people young and old who manage to inflict their pain on others.  And how hard we work to prevent that from happening, and how often we fail.  I want to say we need more regulation on gun ownership I want to preach about the benefits of early and meaningful mental health treatment.  But the sad truth is sick people do sick things all the time.
     I carefully shared the major points of the situation with Robert, he was going to hear it and I wanted to control the information.  He asked me "Did they go into lockdown?'  When did that become something my nine year old knows about and understands?
     Bedtime in the hotel came quickly and exhausted we all slept preparing for our Christmas party the next day.  When I woke I had several messages from the crisis group I contract for.  Another shooting, this one in Birmingham, at St Vincent's. Birmingham- my hometown.  My Dad worked for years at St. Vincent's- I've been there more times than I can count.  Three people shot, the gunman dead. Could I go?  Could I not go? Social worker/mommy.  Our party was quieter than usual.  My cousin left for Afghanistan the day before, my aunt passed away this year and her absence was felt. But still we corralled children and ate dressing and sang Christmas carols.
    On the way home Hunter dropped me off at St. Vincent's to make rounds with chaplains, to do what I could.  As we pulled up to the ER entrance there were police cars and news reporters.  Robert seemed anxious and questioned again what I was doing and why..the mommy and the social worker were both working overtime.  Hunter wrangled all three tired cranky boys through the zoolight safari while I roamed the mostly empty hallways of the hospital, looking at bullet holes and listening to stories of near misses and doing a whole lot of waiting around to wait some more.  I spent most of that time thinking about how quickly life goes from being an ordinary day to a day that marks your life as before and after.  I've born witness to many of those pivotal days as a social worker.  I hope I don't as a mommy.
    It is so hard to reconcile the world I hope for my children, and the one we are given.  Hunter reminds me that there is so much beauty and good around us if we only look for it.  I know he is right, but this weekend the Mommy in me just wants to cry and hold my babies close.  The Social Worker just wants to hold everyone's babies close and sit with those who cry.  That's what being a social worker/mommy is about sometimes.

Spooky frogs and Presidential elections

Yesterday on our drive to school, Robert moved me to tears by quoting Dr. King's Letter from a  Birmingham Jail.  Urged on to social justice and feeling a wee bit proud of myself (social worker/mommy I got that s*** on lock)..I voted my conscience and then went to take communion to bring a sense of balance to my otherwise crazy world.

 This morning I was disheartened by the crazies on Facebook and just in general (why I don't know) and so I turned to my little 9 year old sage to get a good FB post and shut up all the crazies for his perspective.  After all, I am a social worker trained to make people talk about their feelings, right? And I have clearly raised a deep thinker.  So here are Robert's thoughts on the election, unedited. Prepare to be dazzled:

"why are you asking me so many questions?  Did you know that in Alaska it can be like negative 30 degrees and they still have to go to school?  Can I finish my rubber band ball? Hey Ethan, I am a spooky frog "BLEHHHH".

Still hoping for a gem I turned to the "speech" he had to write last night for his homework assignment.

"Being President is a lot of responsibility.  I can not be vain.  I hope I am a howling success."  Turns out those are his spelling words and he had to use as many of them as he could, there are 20 he used three. And one of them is howling..

My children never fail to give me perspective and burst my little bubble of pride.

New website is up www.swsprattville.com  pass it on.

Eleven years ago we watched the world change before our eyes.  Things that seemed safe and normal, would never seem so again.  Less than two weeks later I was in NYC talking with those affected by these horrible attacks.  It remains one of the most profound and rewarding experiences I've had in my professional life.  Thinking of all we lost and how our lives are different, but also how we are all connected.  The boys and I always do something for our local first responders on 9/11.  How do you and your family remember this date?

Family Reunion

I spent the past weekend in Birmingham at a family reunion.  We are not your typical family and so our reunions  never typical. I know its impolite to brag but indulge me for a moment and let me tell you about my remarkable family.

There's my sister, she is a pediatrician.  She spends her days treating children with few other resources.  But on her day off she looked in my youngest son's ears and treated another one of our reunion guest's daughter.   And my little brother Ray is a brilliant business man but he feels called to do something different, something higher, and so he is in seminary.  My big sister Andrea is just what you want in a big sister always protective, and a little bossy.  I am so proud to stand beside her in our chosen profession, she spends her time at work making the world safer for children who need it.  And she is raising such a handsome little gentleman.  Another sister is funny and has a beautiful singing voice, she writes, does a little of everything really.  I haven't met her girlfriend yet, but she must be special to be with her.  One of my brothers lives in LA and is an actor.

  If you are lucky you have a brother or a sister who knows and loves you through all of your awkward phases and beyond.  If you are really lucky you have a good friend who has been through those highs and lows with you as well.  I don't know what you call us. We are not connected by blood but by time and experiences. A tribe? When we are together I feel at  home, no matter where we are.

When I joined the tribe I felt safe, I knew it was okay to be different.  Thirty years later I still feel the same way.   Childhood can be a treacherous time, but the people who share your scars are the ones you still call friends a lifetime later.   When I confronted a grown up bully in my own life, guess who was still there and holding my hand? The people from my tribe, my protectors. 

 It wouldn't be fair or even accurate to say we were "color blind"  If anything we celebrate our differences.   As children we didn't know it mattered, as adults we recognize that this diversity is what makes us who we are as individuals and as a tribe.  Religious, non religious, gay, straight, black, white, Asian, all the children of the world are part of our family.

I am so grateful to be part of my little tribe.  And this past weekend we gathered for our family reunion.  We showed off our babies, the next members of our tribe.  We laughed in the way you only can with your family..which is loudly and without a moment's hesitation at yourself and with everyone else.  A lot can happen in almost thirty years marriages end, people die and so we shed a few tears as well.  But mostly we just enjoyed being together.  Here is our family portrait

I joined this family in fourth grade.  Tomorrow my son starts fourth grade, I hope in 30 years he is hanging with his family.  

Mental Status Exam for Social Worker Mommy

SWM is a middle aged  young and vibrant 40 yr old white female who currently resides with her husband and 3 hellions boys.  Client's appearance, grooming and hygiene were abnormal as she states she hasn't showered in three days (longer since she shaved her legs).  Although oriented to person and place she seemed confused regarding the time and spoke only of nap times, bed times, and meal times..actual hours on the clock seemed to hold little meaning for her.
SWM's thinking and perception were within normal limits, although at times she appeared hypervigilant regarding germs using hand sanitizer excessively and offering baby wipes to everyone in the office.  All the while she was muttering "not one more cold this year, cannot take one more cold."   SWM's speech was inappropriately sing songy and at times she was given to making exclamations that were inappropriate to the setting- pointing out shiny cars or repeating "Use gentle hands."  
SWM complains of interrupted sleep patterns, abnormal eating patterns (only little debbie cakes and chicken nuggets in last 36 hours),  


Recommend girl's night out immediately.  Place SWM on 72 hour hold in a spa/quiet room.  

Happy Happy Joy Joy

I was thinking earlier today about the difference between happiness and joy.  Happy is a temporary state, life happens and happiness is often a short term casualty of it.   Joy is not dependent on circumstances. When I think of joy, I think of my sweet baby Andrew.

You know how people call babies "bundles of joy"?  I used to think that referred to how their parents felt, but Andrew is literally his own little bundle of joy.  He laughs and smiles and giggles constantly, even in his sleep sometimes.  I once heard someone say that a surprise is something you didn't know wanted until you had it- and that is Andrew.  I could never have imagined how much joy he would bring to our family.  He is growing so quickly (3 teeth and trying to crawl already?!) and every day every moment we are richer for it.  That is joy, I may not always be happy when I am changing my umpteenth diaper of the dayor up in the middle of the night but there is always joy.

A letter to my boys

About this time last year I was wondering what life with three boys would be like. It is louder and more chaotic than I guessed, but it is also more of an adventure than I guessed it would be. When we go anywhere with all three I get more comments than you might imagine.. a lot of "You have your hands full" and "you must be exhausted." I didn't know having a family of five would make us a poor man's Duggars. Also sometimes infuriatingly (and in front of the kids) people ask are you going to try again for a girl? As if having boys is like second prize. Honestly, Hunter and I were both a little relieved to have another boy- having a girl would have felt like we were truly "starting over." Although dressing a little girl up and taking her to dance recitals would be fun, is there anything more fraught with angst and drama than a mother daughter relationship? Not in my experience..so I am perfectly happy to be outmanned.

There a some things I want to be sure all of the boys know- so here goes:

1) First, big boys and real men do cry. Also, I want to be sure all of you know how to express all of your feelings for better or worse. But on the days you can't and you just need to hit something or hide away in your room I will try to respect that just as much. When you have a hard time dealing with something in your life, there are always people who can help you make better decisions. I should know-its what I do for a living, don't be afraid to ask for help.

2) Your energy seems boundless, I know its hard to sit still in church and in school and anywhere for 5 minutes, I am working on being patient with you.

3) Someday in the not too distant future (God help me) some little Jezebel in strawberry lipsmackers and an I-Carly tshirt is going to steal your heart away from me. I will no longer be Miss America and Madame Curie all rolled into one..when that happens I will do my best not to judge her too harshly. When she breaks your heart, I promise to be there for you and remember that your first love is often the most exquisite and soul crushing one you'll ever have.

4) The likelihood of your getting a shiny new car/truck for your sixteenth birthday is pretty much zero. I have seen how you ride your bike and scooter and Cozy Coupe and a fast new car could be lethal. I am thinking a grocery getter that will only go 40 miles an hour seems prudent.

5) It is okay to be smart, it doesn't mean you can't like sports too- you can and you will but don't try to act dumb. Girls think smart guys are cool.

6) I want you to know how much I love and respect your father. I love all three of you so much it takes my breath away- but your Daddy was and is my first true love and if it weren't for him there'd be no you and no family...One day when and if you decide to have a family of your own you'll understand.

7) I want you to confide in me, but I'm not your best friend. I will always love you but I am not always going to agree with you- because I'm your parent.

8) Be nice to your brothers, when you are grown ups stay in touch. Let go of any petty disagreements you have left over from being kids and remember they know you better than anyone else on the planet. I love to see you playing together even now, it makes me so happy to know you'll always have each other to lean on. Your Dad and I fought long and hard to make sure we had more than one child for that very reason, so stick together.

9) I want you to have a strong faith- it will sustain you when nothing else does. Always be willing to have faith and ask questions so your faith will grow with you.

10) Before you leave my house to be on your own you I will make sure you know how to do your own laundry, make a decent pasta meal and sew on a button. Its just common sense.

Going out with a Bang

New Year's Eve finds me home with Hunter and the boys. Babysitter woes forced a change in plans, but I'm actually glad for the chance to spend a quiet evening closing out 2010 and preparing for 2011. And that is one of my goals for 2011 to give thanks in all things. Its hard, b/c I really wanted to go out but this really is better for so many reasons. For one thing I think I'll turn into a pumpkin a 9p.m.

15 weeks and counting, at my last ultrasound the little bean was 6 cm long and had a heartbeat of 151. Also, all my pre-screening tests for Downs etc came back negative. So everyone's healthy. I'm so hormonal I cry at least once a day for absolutely nothing or absolutely everything. Hunter dried my sweater, cue the water works. Robert rides his bike, hand me a kleenex. I figure all these hormones are a sign I am having a girl..but who knows.

Getting rid of Ethan's pacifier, working on Robert's self control...so many lessons learned in a week and a half out of school. Mostly, that I am not cut out for homeschooling and eternally grateful for second grade teachers who manage Robert and 17 more just like him 5 days a week.
We have forgotten how to share, harassed and "loved" our brother half to death, practiced violin all of one time. Ethan and Robert both wake up asking for candy...literally they are not out of the bed yet and they ask me for it. Sugared up and t.v.ed out we are in desperate need of routines around here.

So tonight we'll break out the confetti, party hats and horns and then tomorrow we will clean up and start fresh. T.V. will be off, candy thrown out, many tears shed (by everyone) and ready or not 2011 here we come.

For the three people left on the planet that Robert hasn't told...the Humphreys are expecting baby #3 in late June. In honor of this exciting news here is my Advent Devotional for FUMC's publication :



Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart..”
Luke 2:19

This is one of my favorite verses in the Bible. I realize that may seem like an odd choice. It is probably not up there with John 3:16 or Phillipians 4:13 in the Christian Top Tens. I don’t recall ever memorizing it for a Bible drill. But, I love it. I love it because every mother in the world has done exactly this, thrilled at the first kick,counted fingers and toes, marveled at the miracle of new life. Luke, the physician, got this one just right. Even without heavenly hosts singing, exotic visitors from the Far East, and shephards showing up unexpectedly the birth of a baby brings much to treasure and ponder. I remember the first time I felt my unborn babies move, and the moment I heard their first cry.
I also love the expectation and promise this verse brings us. Advent is a time for treasuring and pondering the mystery of a coming Christ. God delivered joy, peace and light to all humanity through a teenage Mother in a stable. God is with us indeed. My goal for this Advent season is to treasure and ponder every moment I see Emmanuel in my family, in my church and in my community.

Dear God,
Thank you for the miracle of new life, and new life in Christ. Help us to treasure up and ponder all the moments that point us to the coming Christ in this season.

My Week in Photos

Halloween Howl 2010

A brief moment of glory

How the rest of the night went

Robert giving the Hooligan war cry which is an awful like his everyday war cry

Communion in Prattvillage Gardens for Hannah's Prayer Memorial Service

Hannah's Prayer

Hannah's Prayer is the support group I have been involved with for the past year or so. After Hunter and I lost our angels I longed for a place to be honest about my struggles and to join with other women who were facing the same thing. Finally, earlier this year I had a chance to begin and lead a group at my church. (Many, many thanks to Olivia, my friend and pastor who has helped in every way possible and co-leads the group.)

This week is the first Service of Hope and Remembrance. It will be held in the garden behind my office (see above) and I am so excited. Although I always held those little lives in my heart Hunter and I never had a way to mark their passing from this life....so now we do. The service is Oct. 24th at 3:30...say a little prayer, send up a good thought for me and all the other mommies who don't have all of our children with us here but who remember them always.

I'll be sure to post afterwards and let you know how it goes.

Running

Brace yourself friends and family, I started running. I never thought I would run for anything but my life. But its not so bad..I'm using the Couch2 5K program meaning I run for 90 sec then walk then run and so on. By the end of 9 weeks I should be able to run for 20 minutes. My goal is to run a 5K by my birthday (Dec. 4). We'll see how it goes. No runner's high for me yet.



Ethan is changing everyday, right now he is obsessed with "Mickey House" as he calls him. He repeats absolutely everything you say (watching our language a bit more these days). We haven't taken away the paci, but any day now I plan to do so. He loves it more than Robert did. Oh and he recognizes his letters, all of them...what 2 year old can do that?



Robert, that boy is gonna drive me to drink...This morning he started out the door to school with one of his sneakers falling off due to no laces. He had no idea where the laces were, how does that happen? He read a book with "500 facts" and "500 Questions and Answers" so we get a few of those each day. For example did you know that one U.S. president could write with both his right and left hand in two different languages simultaneously? Robert can't remember which president it was.



Both of my boys are so smart and kind and just make me smile every day. I feel beyond fortunate that I have spent so much time with them. My work makes me crazy sometimes and every now and then I consider going back to work for someone else...but being with them is so worth it. This week, I walked from my office to Robert's field trip and then back to work. Today Ethan and I walked all over downtown and then afterwards while he napped I saw a client. How much better could my work situation be?