How 9/11 Changed My View of Motherhood

They say that your worldview is forever shaped by the way the world is when you are in your 20s.

When I was 27, my world changed forever.

This week, I watched coverage of the 20th anniversary of the 9/11 tragedy in the United States, and like you, I remember exactly where I was and what I was doing when I heard the news. I was a new mom, with a two-year old and a brand new baby. That baby was only a week old, and when the twin towers fell, I felt my hopes and dreams for that child fall with them.

To be sure, that day changed the world for all of us, bringing evil near and replacing freedom with fear. In those first days and weeks, I wondered what our new lives would look like. I remember my heart beating fast as I thought about about all the “maybes'“ and “what ifs” of a future I could not see.

In time, two more children joined our family, but I no longer fear for their future. I no longer worry over the circumstances that will shape their lives.

Is it because the world is safer now than it was twenty years ago?
Is it because I’ve buried my head in the sand and decided to turn my head from violence, disaster, sickness, and war?
Or is it because I simply have more courage today than I did back then?

After all, didn’t Jesus command us not to worry? (Matthew 6:25-34)

That last one is true, BUT NO, the real reason I don’t worry as much is because I finally realized that:

God’s solution to big problems has always been a baby.

Those helpless babies I rocked twenty years ago are part of God’s plan to restore the world.

It was Isaac,

the first son of God’s promise to Abraham, who became the legacy of a great nation.

It was Moses,

whose mother tucked him in a basket and sent him down the river, who delivered the Israelites from Pharaoh.

It was Samuel,

whose mother dedicated him to God before he was even born, who became a priest, a judge, and a prophet, and who anointed both Saul and David as kings of Israel.

And it was Jesus,

who came to us as a baby and saved the world from sin. It was him who preached of sacrifice and love and who ultimately calls us not to hide but to be a light in this dark world.

Whether we have children or not, we all started out as babies, and we all have the same opportunity to do good wherever we are.

For what it’s worth, it’s never too late to be whoever you want to be. I hope you live a life you’re proud of, and if you find you’re not, I hope you have the strength to start over.

—F. Scott Fitzgerald

Looking back, I’m embarrassed that I felt fear for the new life in my arms. After all, God trusted me with that child (and three others). And as long as the earth continues to turn on its axis, I believe he’ll keep using babies to bring peace and hope. Mine are growing up fast, and I’m so proud of them.

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Four Key Questions Every Person Needs to Answer

I graduated from high school in 1992, and like every other student I knew with even a modicum of motivation, I was headed to college. The question was not “Are you going to college?” but “Where are you going to college?”

For me, it was simply the most logical next step.

The ongoing COVID-19 pandemic continues to jeopardize school enrollment., but in 2021, more than twenty million students in the United States still attend college. (Fun fact: The majority are women!)

While I don’t think college is necessarily for everyone—there are lots of ways to be successful in the world without going to college—I do think the college experience provides ready-made opportunities to engage with the world in ways that may not be available to us otherwise.

In the past, parents and teachers encouraged college for the job preparation it would provide. Some parents still nudge their kids toward the more “practical” majors. An accounting degree, after all, virtually guarantees a job offer upon graduation. And no one wants to leave college with a mountain of debt and no way to repay it. But one thing I love about the current world economy is that we truly live in a time when anything is possible, when the opportunities available to us are more often than not the ones we create ourselves, and when “working for the man” is less enticing than ever.

To be sure, The Great Resignation has been in full force since 2019 and is showing no signs of letting up anytime soon. And what do today’s workers want? Basically, they want a voice, and they want to work for companies that care. Flexibility has always been important; it’s just that prior to the pandemic a lot of people either didn’t or couldn’t take advantage of the choices available to them.

For kids standing on the threshold of this brave new world, college is but one option in an array of enticing prospects. Dr. Barry Schwartz, professor of Psychology at Swarthmore College, asserts that higher education should answer these four important questions:

1. What is worth knowing?

2. What is worth doing?

3. What makes for a good human life?

4. What are my responsibilities to other people?

I love these questions, because regardless of how the world changes in the next year or even decade, the answers remain relevant. And even as our own resources and networks continue to evolve, these questions speak to the core of who we are as people and how each of us is uniquely gifted to contribute to the greater good.

This year, I have a son who will graduate from high school. Of course, he is thinking about what’s next. And probably—PROBABLY—college is the next most logical step. But he’s already approaching this incredibly important life decision with the aplomb of a student who has lived through a recession, a war in the middle east, virtual social networking, ongoing terrorism threats, legalization of marijuana, privatization of space travel, heated political contests, same sex marriage, self-driving cars, and a global pandemic. His lived childhood experience is totally different than the one I grew up in.

None of us can predict the future, but all of us can approach the future with a full measure of curiosity and a commitment to make the world a kinder, more equitable place to live—wherever we are. If we’ve done anything right in parenting our children, it’s that we’ve encouraged our kids to dream big. Work worth doing isn’t always easy, but it is always an adventure.

What questions would you add to this list? How are you helping the young people in your life consider their next steps? I’d love to know!

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Purposeful Parenting (Part 3:) Finding Meaning and Purpose in the Everyday

I used to have this app on my phone called Legacy Countdown. It was literally a countdown clock to remind me how much time I had left before my kids graduated high school. There’s nothing like knowing how little time remains to ensure you don’t waste it.

Deciding where to invest all those minutes and hours is hard, especially when you start without a plan. When my first daughter was just a baby, I enrolled her in Music Together, Mother’s Morning Out, and a Friday morning play group in our neighborhood.

By age three, we had added dance classes to the mix.

Then she started school, and I realized we needed an art enrichment class and after-school tutoring. In another year, we’d begin playing soccer, start a book club, and join Girl Scouts. I thought that more stuff gave our lives more meaning.

I was WRONG.

More stuff just made our lives more complicated.

I didn’t want my life to be just a countdown clock to the weekend or vacation or my kid’s graduation, so what did I do? I made a date with about a hundred other things.

Let’s be real— Isn’t it amazing how much you can accomplish when you’re in a pinch? Deadlines are my best friend, too. Deadlines hold my hand and encourage me to move with direction and purpose. And that’s what the Legacy App did for me. It put that hard deadline—the empty nest—front and center.

There’s a question we often ask ourselves when we reach a certain age, and it’s this: If I could go back in time, what advice would I give my younger self?

Maybe I would tell myself to slow down time. To enjoy the little things. To embrace the hard things. Maybe I would tell myself that all that extra “stuff” we did wouldn’t really matter in the long run.

But the reality is this: I can’t go back in time and tell my younger self anything.

What I can do, however, is set my future self up for success. My future self wants a life of meaning and purpose. My future self wants kids who are self sufficient, who harbor strong convictions, and who embrace life with their own visions of what the future holds. Looking forward gives us the ammunition we need to do something concrete and real.

Once I realized our family had a filled-up life that didn’t make us feel full at all, we started making some meaningful vows:

In the future:

• We will not say yes simply because we have a fear of missing out.

• We will not say yes because we’re afraid to be home alone with our kids.

• We will not justify decisions to match our circumstances.

• We will only add things to the family calendar that reflect our values.

We knew we wanted our kids to be creative problem solvers, effective mitigators for conflict resolution, and strong adults who could deal with disappointment. We wanted to encourage our kids to pursue the things they loved, and we also wanted to protect the time we had with them here at home.

Obviously, we had to say goodbye to some very good things. We had to make some hard choices.

One of the ways we did this by taking a season off. Knowing we would have time together in the near future sustained us when things were crazy, and everybody was eating dinner at a different time and no one was ever all in the car together. We knew it was for a season, and that made it bearable. For example, as much as we loved sports, we didn’t miss church to play them on Sundays. The down-time allowed us to catch our breath and explore what matters in the context of the most important relationships in our lives.

Another thing we did was empower our kids to choose for themselves those things that made them feel most alive. One summer, our older son obtained his private pilot’s license, and our younger son attended a summer camp for entrepreneurs. Our oldest daughter went on mission trips, and our youngest learned how to cook.

Over the years, I’ve been paying attention to the stories that make us who we are. Memories from childhood shape our worldview and influence our choices. In the future, I hope my kids will remember their past with a fondness that will carry them into their own preferred future. I hope they will feel equipped to find meaning not only in the work they choose to do but also in their relationships—both with people and with God. I hope they know that their past does not define them and that the future is filled with opportunity.

Mostly, I hope they enjoy today. It is a gift, and it is a responsibility. Steward it well, my friends.

“Science shows that the secret to high performance isn’t our biological drive or our reward-and-punishment drive, but our third drive—our deep-seated desire to direct our own lives, to extend and expand our abilities, and to live a life of purpose”

— Daniel Pink

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How are you creating more meaning in your family? Please share in the comments below.

Purposeful Parenting (Part 2): Pay Attention to Me!

This is the 2nd installment of a 5 part series on Purposeful Parenting. If you missed the first one, you can read it here:

Pay Attention to Me!

As calendars go, do you feel like yours is packed? We’re all busy, aren’t we? I don’t like seeing a lot of empty of space on my calendar, either.

High five, soul sister.  

I relish the appointments, meetings, and after-school activities. And if I’m being really honest, the dates don’t just make me feel productive; they also make me feel important.

I read somewhere that the current generation is the first one that will have a documented, chronological history of their entire lives—recorded digitally forevermore.

Confession: I’ve been a die-hard documenter of life since I was old enough to hold a crayon. And I’ve kept every agenda, date book, daytimer, and journal I’ve ever owned.

My life is in those books.

So when my husband migrated the entire family to a synchronized Google calendar a few years ago, I resisted.

I like writing things down because I like the physicality of it. I like being able to turn the pages and touch the spaces filled with notes. I like the blank canvas turned inky with my smudges, cross-outs, and fill-in-the-blanks.

As our family grew and we ended up with four kids in four different schools, the old system began to fail. I missed so many appointments that even I had to admit there must be a better way. An appointment written down in an agenda at home doesn’t do me or anybody else any good if we’re in the car and don’t have it with us and don’t know what’s next, where to go, or how to get there. I don’t care how much time you have, nobody has time for that.

Whenever we write something down—whether we’re typing on our laptop, punching in a reminder on our phone, or slapping a sticky note to the bathroom mirror—what we’re actually doing is making a future promise to ourselves.

And it’s a promise to pay attention.

I don’t have to tell you that paying attention is important because you’ve seen what happens when you don’t.

When we aren’t paying attention, the scale creeps upward.
Junk fills the basement.
Weeds multiply.
Plants die.
Marriages crumble.
And kids grow up.

In fact, when it comes to our kids paying attention might be one of the most important things you can do for them.

As littles, my kids played and pleaded “Look at me.” They’re older now, and the phrase I hear most is “Leave me alone.” But leave me alone is an invitation, too. It’s a clue to pay attention to the swirling inconsistencies going on in the complex world of adolescence.

As a mom, it’s easy to point out all the bad things. I’m the worst about nagging my kids to clean their rooms. I’m guilty of talking about grades more than feelings. I often get in the car and turn on a podcast I like before asking my kids if they want to talk. And that’s because it’s so easy to notice what’s around us and so hard to pay attention to what’s inside us.

But I’m working on it:

• When Christiana works hard at track practice, I say, ‘I’m proud of you for working so hard. You’re getting better everyday.’

• When Gavin plays with his little sister, I say, “Hey buddy, thanks for spending time with your sister. It means a lot to her–and to me.’

• When Aaron is toiling away on his next big business idea I fight back the urge to acknowledge the mess he’s making and instead admire his incredible work ethic and entrepreneurial spirit.

• When Cari Jill asks me to write her a note and leave it in our special envelope, I’ll write something heartfelt rather than hurried.

Art. Inventions. Cultural shifts. Religious movements. They all happened because somebody saw something and paid attention. Scientists and activists, preachers and teachers, took up a cause said, “I can do something about that.”

Noticers make the world a better place to live.

What if for today, in this hard season of purposeful parenting that you’re in, you focused on being a noticer, not because it would necessarily make the world better but because it would make your family better? Intentional families, after all, do make for a better world.

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Purposeful Parenting (Part 1): The Wonder of Waiting

The school year is wrapping up, and we are heading into summer. Those words might make you feel relieved that you made it through yet another year. Time to celebrate! However, you might be dreading these next few months with the kids at home 24/7. Parenting is exhausting work!

Years ago, I wrote a 5-part blog series on Purposeful Parenting. I’m no expert, but our firstborn did just graduate from college. Around here, we’re on the cusp of a new season. We didn’t do a lot of things right, but did we learn a lot? YES! I went back and re-read those old posts, and guess what—they’re still relevant today!

Let’s dive in….

THE WONDER OF WAITING

Normally, I hate standing in line. It’s such a bore and a waste of time. Unless something interesting happens… and last week, it did.

I got a front-row seat to a spectacular lesson in parenting in the Target checkout line. I parked my buggy behind a dad and his four year-old little boy. The boy hopped on one foot. He hopped on the other. He put his chubby little hands on everything in sight. I listened to him talk nonstop, commenting on every single thing in his field of vision. 

Nutella snack pack.
Oooohhh…Chapstick.
Tape.
Batteries.
Magazine. (Why is it behind this plastic thing?)
Gum.
Candy.

Wait a second. “Candy?”

Hands and elbows flew out every which way. Like whack-a-mole, but gentler, the boy’s father patted his little head. “No, no. Not now. We’re going to the circus.”

I’ve often wondered why we don’t host birthday parties in the checkout aisles of our favorite stores. What could be more fun than duck-duck goose and ring-around-the-rosy in the midst of our favorite things? And a goody bag to choose what we want from the endless buffet of trinkets and gadgets and treats galore.

“Tic tacs.”  The boy tugged on his father’s pant leg. “Dad! Tic tacs.” His big, brown eyes pleaded for consent. “I want tic tacs!”

It was only 10:00 in the morning, but clearly in no mood to argue the merits of one snack versus another, Dad finally said, “Would you rather have the tic-tacs now or cotton candy at the circus?”

No contest, right? I mean, of course this kid is going to choose the cotton candy at the circus. They’re headed there now, in fact. In less than an hour, he can have cotton candy before he’s even had lunch.

I sympathized with the boy. My heart went out to him. I know that pressing feeling, when now seems like too late, and the desperation of wanting something so badly that waiting feels like the most torturous thing on earth.

But you can guess what the kid picked. He picked the green tic-tacs. Because every four year-old needs a 1 1/2 calorie breath mint to make it through the day. Right?

His poor dad didn’t even see it coming.  Incredulous, he asked, “Really? You would rather have tic-tacs than cotton candy?”

From behind my buggy, I couldn’t help but smirk. A child after my own heart.

“Yes, Dad. Yes!” Perplexed, the dad gave in.

He sighed. “It’s just a mint, you know.”

But I don’t think that little boy even heard him. Or maybe he did, but he didn’t flinch. He clutched the tic-tacs to his chest as if protecting a great treasure.

I have to admit, I really wish I could have followed them to the circus because my guess is that that little boy forgot all about the tic-tacs when he saw those billowing clouds of pink and blue spun sugar. The empty box of tic-tacs would be poor comfort for the throngs of kids with candy pushing past him on the way to their seats.

Delayed gratification is hard, even for adults. We want what we want when we want it. How many times have I hit the “buy” button when I know I should have waited? How hastily have I sent an angry email when I should have given myself time to process my anger? Over and over again, I have robbed God of what he might have done because he didn’t do what I thought he should have done on my timeline.

I am reminded of something I read once by psychologist, Carl Jung. He said, “If there is anything we wish to change in the child, we should first examine it and see whether it is not something that could be better changed in ourselves.”

So, while I’d love to be able to see into my future, to know for certain that something even better waits for me there, I am sometimes like a little child, hoarding tic-tacs in my pockets and cheeks, not believing that the cotton candy exists or that it’s waiting there for me, or regretfully, even that I deserve it. In moments of weakness, it seems cruel and unusual to make me wait for something that may or may not be real.

Just because I haven’t yet seen it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.

I want to show my kids that waiting can be wonderful, that the in-between isn’t only pain and longing, but that even if it is, it’s okay, and that while we don’t know for sure what the future holds, it’s not always in our best interest to propel ourselves headlong into desire. What heals me on these days is the gentle reminder that I am not alone. All of us have spent a season in the in-between and I bet if we sat down across the table, over coffee, sharing our stories, you would tell me your tales of waiting, too–how it was worth it and what you learned and why you wouldn’t go back and change it for anything in the world.

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Six Ways to Discover your Adaptability Quotient

As kids are preparing to leave for college, parents are getting them ready by outfitting their rooms with lots of new stuff guaranteed to make their lives easier and more comfortable. A new microwave, a mini fridge, maybe even a loft bed so the kid’s room has space for a futon.

The one trait that’s more important than any other in ensuring the kid’s success isn’t anything you can purchase, but rather an aspect of the kid’s personality that you may not have even noticed.

I’m talking about a little something called adaptability.

Adaptability is literally the ability to adapt to new and changing situations.

• Can the kid make the transition and adopt the significant adjustments necessary to ensure that she’s going to be okay when everything is not okay?

• Does she welcome new opportunities with excitement or trepidation?

I’ve talked to more parents in the last couple of years who thought stability was the key to raising happy, healthy children. They chose not to take on new jobs or move houses because they didn’t want to disrupt their kids’ lives, but when the child went to college, she felt overwhelmed by all the new experiences and did not know how to assimilate them into her daily routine.

Maybe we were getting the definition of stability all wrong.

Stability, like so many things we think we value, is not a thing at all.
Stability is always about the people in our lives.

When we have people in our lives we can trust and who love us unconditionally, we share a collective strength. Change is easier because we’re doing it together.

New adventures don’t have to feel scary; they can be exciting.

One advantage that this year’s high school graduates have is that they already have a leg up when it comes to adaptability. Since March, they’ve had to adjust not only their experiences in the present, but their expectations about the future as well.

Let’s explore six of these significant adjustments one-by-one. I am doing this from a Christian perspective because that’s how I process the world. However, I also believe that these questions are important regardless of your worldview. (Adapted from Experiencing God by Henry Blackaby)

Six Aspects of Adaptability

1) Thinking: How do you feel about your current circumstances? With what kinds of things are you filling your mind? How are you approaching learning? (Our kids don’t often tell us what they’re thinking. You may have to be ultra casual with this question, maybe catch them off guard, when you’re in the car together or sitting around the dinner table.)

2) Circumstances: Is there anything causing stress in your life? Are you paying attention to events both in your life and in your environment? What is going on around you that tells you God is working? (I love this last question because it helps us see purpose in events that don’t make sense)

3) Relationships: Who are you listening to? Who do you admire? Is there a toxic relationship you need to remove from your life? (Now is the time to solidify the relationships that matter and welcome new people who share your values into your life.)

4) Commitments: Are you over-committed? On the flip side, is there anything you need to add to what you are already doing? Are you available? (Remember: no one gets a trophy for being busy. Leave room for opportunity.)

5) Actions: What do you need to prioritize? Is there anything you’re not doing that you should be doing? Is there anything you are doing that you need to stop doing? How can you love people better? (Disappointment can easily lead to apathy; be intentional. The payoff is worth the effort.)

6) Beliefs: Do you believe that God is who he says he is and that he will do what he says he’ll do? Do you believe that what he does is always in your best interest? And do you believe that God can use you to accomplish his purpose? (Even if you don’t believe these things, living like you do is often the best testimony.)

And most importantly, would you be willing to sacrifice your own hopes and dreams for a higher purpose?

I haven’t always been the most easy-going person, and I know change can be a scary thing. Many of us feel threatened by change. We like stability and crave predictability. But one thing I do know: I don’t want to be afraid to say yes to new adventures. Learning how to adapt to the things I choose is much more fun than having to adjust to the things I didn’t.

As your child prepares to leave your nest, they need to know you’re not pushing them out. You want them to go. To fly. To soar. They need your blessing, and they also need to know there’s always a safe place for them with you.

Stability ensures adaptability.

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You Have Permission to Play

Today I was feeling a little depressed.

I got up at my usual time, made breakfast, and sat down to watch the news. And believe it or not, it wasn’t the news that made me depressed, just a culmination of things building up over the course of the last four weeks. Being stuck at home. Not seeing friends. Missing my parents and nieces and nephews.

It’s Spring Break, and like the rest of the world, we aren’t going anywhere. Easter is in two days, and we are smack dab in the middle of negotiating the sale of our house, which has been on the market for the last eight months.

Everything feels unfamiliar and uncomfortable.

To pass the time, I was flipping through this book I bought for my daughter at Christmastime. It’s called For the Love of Paper, and it’s filled with posters, stickers, envelope templates, and cards.

“Wouldn’t it be fun to make little Easter outfits out of the pretty paper for a set of paper dolls?” I thought.

But then I remembered that my youngest daughter is twelve, and getting her to do anything with me these days is a challenge. She doesn’t like playing with dolls anymore, and so I talked myself out of even asking her.

In fact, I decided not to make the paper dolls at all.

And deciding NOT to do this made me even more sad.

Because for years I’ve been telling other parents about the importance of free play. I preach about creativity all the time. And here I was, with plenty of time on my hands, a drawer full of art supplies, and most importantly an idea about something to do, and instead of going for it, I said, “Nah. That’s dumb.”

Free play helps kids learn how to think and grow and solve problems. They’re practicing being grownups years before they’re actually grown up. We provide them with blocks, so they can build houses and plastic kitchen sets, so they can prepare pretend meals for their pretend families. They set up pretend offices in their playrooms and build secret forts outside. They hold “board meetings” long before they ever get a chance to lead a real one. They “fly airplanes” and “drive cars,” all practice for the day they get to fill up the tank and take off on their own.

This important time is the foundation for everything they’ll one day become.

And suddenly it dawned on me: I’m becoming something, too.

These days at home are not wasted days.

What if I reframed my circumstances to reconnect with childhood?
What if I could recapture some of that childlike curiosity to practice things I’ve never done so that on the day we’re free from this self-imposed quarantine I won’t be overwhelmed by all there is to do?What if I used this time to make a plan?
And what if I did it by thinking of it as play?

Time at home is practice, not punishment.

Children live in a strictly controlled environment. Where than can go and what they can do and with whom is monitored.

We use words like “good parenting” and “boundaries,” but let’s be honest—that’s a fancy way of framing “quarantine.”

And yet, kids don’t stop playing.

In fact, most of my friends tell me it’s not their kids who are having trouble with quarantine—it’s them.

The parents are the ones who are struggling.
We’ve tasted freedom.
We know what we’re missing.

And I could sit here and feel sorry for myself and be bitter because I don’t “have anyone to play with” or I could reconnect with little Chantel and just make the clothes for the paper dolls.

Because it’s fun.
And it’s creative.
And golly, I want to.

The biggest obstacle to play is boredom.

According to Harvard educators, you just have to wait out that initial discomfort, which is unfamiliar and might feel scary. (source)

“To be bored” is not a synonym for “to waste time.”

And I think I had tricked myself into believing that all these weeks spent at home were a waste of time, despite the truth that our family is spending more time together, eating higher quality meals, getting more sleep, being more thoughtful of others, acting more generously, laughing more, spending more time in meditation, practicing more mindfulness and gratitude, keeping a cleaner house, maintaining an organization strategy, exercising outdoors, and checking on friends who live far away.

It’s been such a long time since I’ve had to be self-directed and curious. In this over-scheduled world, every minute of my day is planned and accounted for.

And truth be told—it’s mostly reactive. Until now, I have been doing what other people wanted me to do. Saying yes to meetings. Adding appointments to my calendar. Driving carpool.

And now…

Now, I get to decide what I want to do because there is literally nothing to do.

For the first time in a long time, adults and kids get to enjoy free play together.

Free play allows people to develop cognitive and emotional strengths. Free play enhances problem solving skills.

But most importantly, play decreases depression, anxiety, perfectionism, and stress.

All this extra time is practice for the grownup I want to be. I don’t want to be depressed or anxious. I want to say goodbye to stress, and most importantly I want to be ready for any problem that might come my way.

On the surface, making clothes for paper dolls doesn’t seem like it would be practice for any kind of real-life problem, especially since I don’t even know how to use a sewing machine. But that’s exactly the kind of negative self-talk that keeps us from connecting with our childhood.

And there’s no reason why you can’t say yes to an activity just because it sounds like it might be fun.

I’m gonna go get my book and get to work.

Ummm, no not work…play.

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WINSday on Wednesday--Transitioning Well

Today’s WINSday on Wednesday inspiration comes from Liz Lewis, the be-boppin', hip hoppin' creative behind some of the best character-driven songs for kids at North Point Ministries.

How to be an Adult

According to MSN Lifestyle, “Adulthood is a nuanced transition that occurs over three decades.” Psychologists have added the term “emerging adulthood” to describe people in their twenties who feel like they’re not teenagers anymore but aren’t quite “adults” yet either. And while, legally, you become an adult at the age of 18, scientists now say that you don’t really become fully adult until age 30, which is the age when your brain reaches full development.

Our emotional development, unfortunately, doesn’t always align perfectly with our physical development. I mean, when did you feel like an adult? When you graduated college? Landed your first real job? Got married? Had kids? Is it when you turned 21?

I’d have to say that for me it was the first time a kid answered one of my questions with that southern standby: “Yes ma’am.”

There is no agreed upon age or stage for adulthood because everyone’s experience is different.

But one thing we do all experience is transition.

Periods of transition occur at different times in our lives, providing tricky overlap at key developmental stages. Remember getting zits and armpit hair? Remember when your feet felt too big and your breasts too small? That was—ummmm— AWKWARD.

There’s no denying it—Transition can be super awkward. But we grow into the shoes and out of the training bra. Someone teaches us how to use concealer and a razor.

Transition is temporary. It is not a pause, even though it might feel like time slows down during the difficult ones. Transitions actually keep the action/work/life moving forward.

In writing, we use transitions to help readers understand how thoughts and ideas are connected.

Some examples include words like:

• And

• But

• So

• Because

For example:

I am a mom, and I am a chef, and I am a chauffeur, and I am a teacher.

But I am also an entrepreneur.

So I’ll have to figure out how to do it all.

Because that’s what women do best.

Writers use transitions so that ideas flow smoothly.

But often in life, we describe transitions with words like “rocky” or “scary” or as we mentioned previously, “awkward.”

Moms have no clearly defined role, and so the whole motherhood thing can feel like one giant transition, the space between who we were when we were single and in charge of only ourselves and who we are becoming with people who are both a part of us and apart from us.

Unlike our comrades in the workplace, we have no onboarding manual that tells us what to expect or what to do.

The normal rules of transition: Take notes, immerse yourself in company culture, and devise your own 90-day success plan just aren’t realistic advice for women transitioning from motherhood to work or from work to motherhood or from motherhood to empty nesterhood.

We face new responsibilities and new challenges every single day.

As our kids grow up, they don’t necessarily need us less, but they do need us in different ways. We need to let go. Maybe don’t need to kiss boo-boos, but we still have a role to play—we will become their advisors and coaches. Hopefully, we’ll also be a safe place to land in a world riddled with disappointment and pain.

As they become who they are meant to be, we rediscover latent passions. We have the bandwidth to pursue our own purpose. This new freedom might feel foreign and frightening.

But in the transition, we find margin. Don’t be afraid of the space. Margin means opportunity. Transitions hold a world of possibility—we get to take everything that came before and leverage it for what’s next.

And the best part is there’s no right or wrong way to do it.

“Perfectionism is not only the enemy of the good; it is the enemy of adulthood.”

— Julie Lythcott-Haims, How to Raise an Adult

Ready to take it to the next level?

If you missed our interview with Liz Lewis, you can catch up here.

Make Everyday a Great Day

Yesterday, I made my daughter’s last school lunch.

It wasn’t anything special—a thermos of macaroni and cheese, some carrot sticks, a granola bar, a fruit snack, and a juice box.

Later, I asked her why she didn’t eat the macaroni and cheese. She said, it just didn’t look good sitting in the thermos after all those hours.

And I said, “Well, the good news is next year you can start packing your own lunch!”

And then it hit me: I just packed her last elementary school lunch.

Would I have made her something different if I had known?

I don’t know.

That’s the thing about endings. Unless you’re counting down to the last day of school before summer vacation or the last day of pregnancy before your baby is due, an ending is easy to miss. It’s easy to miss because what we’re actually counting down to is a NEW BEGINNING.

I don’t remember the last time I made my daughter’s bed.
Or tied her shoes.
Or gave her a bath.
Or washed her clothes.

She does all those things all by herself. And clearly—trust me, I know—she’s old enough to make her own lunch. It was just one of those things I said I’d keep doing while she was in elementary school, and then all the sudden elementary school is over, and the one thing—THE ONE THING—I was holding onto isn’t even a thing anymore! I did it for the last time, and I did it just like all the other times.

My friends, you are about to enter the golden years, ages 4-10, when love from you and friends for them come fast and easy.

 I’m not going to be the tired old mom who tells you how fast it goes. You have to learn that on your own.

But I have no remorse about telling you to find a way to make all the times so good that even if it’s the last time, it’s okay. Beginnings are even better.

As my daughter walked her elementary school hallways for the last time, she asked me, “So…did you make a ‘last-day-of-school’ cake?” For the record, I have NEVER made a last-day-of-school cake. I just told you how bad I am at remembering the endings. I do, however, always make a first-day-of-school-cake, so instead of cake, we’ll come home and eat watermelon and throw water balloons at each other (just because we have some in the garage we’ve been saving for a special occasion), and then we’ll probably do what we do on most regular days—decide that it’s going to be a GREAT DAY.

And if everyday is a great day, it doesn’t matter if it’s the first or the last. All that matters is that we’re ready for what’s next.

Because the end of elementary school isn’t about graduating from the fifth grade at all; it’s about going to middle school, a magical place where freedom lives and friendships are hard and homework really cramps your style. My daughter is ready. Who am I to hold her back?

Let her make her own lunch!

2026, here we come!

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5 Ways to Grow Your Resume as a Stay-at-Home Mom

I wish I had a dollar for all the times someone has asked me, “Are you just a mom?”

When my kids were little, I got this question all the time. I didn’t know how to respond. What did that even mean?

Am I just a mom?

I wanted to say, “ Are you just an accountant? Just a teacher? Just a dentist?”

I’ve been a mom for almost 20 years, and in all that time I can honestly say that I was never (not once) just a mom.

Sometimes I’ll hear moms say they’re dishwashers and chauffeurs and tutors and short order cooks.

All true.

But they are also managers, CEOs, advisors, and attorneys.

“Now I think it’s one of the most useless questions an adult can ask a child—What do you want to be when you grow up? As if growing up is finite. As if at some point you become something and that’s the end.”

— Becoming, Michelle Obama

You are not just a mom, although the long days spent wiping snotty noses and changing dirty diapers can trick you into thinking it’s work that will never end.

You don’t have to wish those days away. In the midst of all that has to be done, there are things you can do to bump up the wow factor on your resume.

1) Volunteer. No good work is ever wasted. I spent a decade volunteering at a local hospice, even though I had no desire ever to become a health practitioner myself. Those years taught me how to live well, how to be with people in the midst of their pain, and how to navigate hard conversations—skills I value to this day.

2) Contract a few hours a week. Find extra hours in your day to do something you love—and get paid for it. When I had extra time, I reached out to a mentor of mine to see if there was anything I could do to help her with her own work. Because she was a writer, I was able to assist with research, eventually gaining enough experience to write special features and small articles for our community magazine.

3) Lead something in your community. My husband and I have always attended church. It’s part of our weekly routine, and for a season I coordinated something called Sisters of Support. Basically, the SOS was a network of volunteers commissioned to bring meals to families experiencing hardship in our community. I coordinated the volunteers and supplemented what was needed on a weekly basis by making an extra chicken pot pie or batch of brownies here and there. I was already cooking for my own family, so making extra was no big deal. I led a team of almost 80 volunteers, and I was able to do it all from the comfort of my own kitchen workspace.

4) Find a place to network. I would have gone crazy if I had stayed home all the time. Being a mom is hard work. When my kids were little, I joined my local sorority alumnae group. Each month’s meeting promised the opportunity to meet someone interesting or learn something new. Eventually, I was elected President, and so in addition to the new friendships, I gained valuable leadership experience. Sisterhood doesn’t have to end just because college does!

5) Cultivate hobbies. The worst thing you can do is to spend so much time caring for your kids that you lose yourself. If there’s something you love to do, keep doing it. Just being a mom allowed me the freedom to experiment in the kitchen (I even learned how to use a sous vide), go on long walks (sometimes with a kid—or four—in tow), read books (you can learn a lot from reading children’s books, and I’ve led lots of kid lit book clubs), and practice writing (look, I’m still doing it! :))

Don’t ever let anyone tell you you’re just a mom. There’s something to learn in every season. And even if you don’t incorporate any of the suggestions listed above into your daily routine, I guarantee you’re gaining valuable experience leading people, managing teams, organizing your household, strategizing for the future, and TCB’ing all that other stuff employers think is important.

You’re a rock star! Keep going!

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