Floor Blocks and Imagination

#2023 #Family #Pictures #Encourage #Imagination #FloorBlocks #HouseBlocks #BuildingHousesOutOfFoamFloorMatSquares #ProblemSolving #Boys #WatchWithWonder #Children #TheFascinatingImaginationOfAChild

January 29, 2023

Floor Blocks and Imagination

Uncle Buddy was purging his apartment and there were two truck-loads of stuff he thought we could use.  (Yes, we could, not that we knew it before it came)  One such item was three packs of floor blocks, you know, those spongy warm mats that you cover hard floors with to have a softer play surface.  We already had six squares of it under our swing in the back yard to keep feet from digging a ditch under the swing and nine squares in the playroom to bring out when it was too cold for bare feet on the hard floor.  

Lucas has a fantastic imagination and turned said floor cushions into… A house.  The original one was 1×2 squares in a perfect rectangle with a “door” panel they sealed behind themselves and “busted” out of with a sharp kick from both feet. 

It started in the living room, but there is more space in the playroom!  The house became 2×3 squares with a “portal” doorway complete with blanket carpets and pillows so they could sleep in it!  

Louis shook his head, “I don’t think they were made for that.”  And I shrugged, “no, but they work fine, don’t they?”  (Until a rambunctious boy-who-will-remain-unnamed dropped on the ceiling and broke it aka caved in the roof, made Thea cry and Jillian mad, and they had to rebuild said house.

Soon packing boxes (also from Uncle Buddy) were added to make rooms inside the house and prop up the roof as going bigger than 2×3 meant less stability in the middle.  They were finding ways to overcome the structural weakness and still expand their play house!  I loved all the problem solving that was going on!  

These large blocks also store in their bags when not in use.  I don’t know how often this will happen, but what I was saving for play surfaces in our shed while moving and in our future house when we finally get one, is now a house-building toy.  Lucas is always building big complex structures in his mega blocks, duplos, and legos.  I’m hoping to get him interested in carpentry or construction because once his football career (now he wants to be a football player in high school and college and the NFL – he better pray he gets height from Great-Grandpa Jim and Boompa!) is done, he might enjoy building things.  I totally encourage any type of hands-on skill as even though yes, the foam block houses won’t last long, the building and problem solving will present itself in other forms.  

What neat things have your kids done with their imagination lately?  I love to watch with sonder as they explore new things!  Sit back, let them play, and watch a world of wonder explode from their untamed imaginations!

Thank you for reading!

Type at you next time!

~Nancy Tart

Life Goals

December 28, 2022

Life Goals

I continually reevaluate my “life goals,” if you want to call them that.  

Core has always been to love Jesus, pass that on to everyone I can touch, and show love when I can.  The additions have changed a little:

Pre-twenties, I wanted to be a wife, mother, and teacher.  Did that.  Am living that.

Twenties to mid-thirty: The only earthly thing I wanted for my children was a home they all grew up in and family roots.  I failed at that. Life teaches you lessons and you hope to pass on the results so they don’t fall into the same trap.

Thirty-three and beyond, I only want my children to love Jesus in a true life-long relationship; I’ve learned that everything in life beyond relationships is just temporary.  

Lately, my older children have made comments in passing that really cut to my heart.  The first year I didn’t unwrap a gift from you.  (Her gifts were too large to wrap & smaller things were in her stocking.)  Wow, they’ve lived there like 12 years, that would never be us.  (We did have a home for 14 years, just moved to two different places during that ownership to help other people for seasons.)  You don’t give me stuff like the other girls’ moms.  (No, I can’t give anyone a brand new car as they get their license, a new laptop, the latest phone, gaming systems, etc.  I provide you with opportunities to save for those things and decide their value yourself.)

Those things and other assorted in passing comments have made me delve into self-examination for the past couple of months.  I can’t talk to my Daddy about it, praying feels one-way, a memory pops up of Louis’ accident last year and the days of challenges and miracles, I feel like I’ll never dig us out into property that is our home (though I keep reminding my doubt that I left that in God’s hands, the doubt keeps trying to come in), people I know whose children I know are dying from poison, I pray daily for those I know who are affected: my life feels useless as I feel like I can’t do much for anyone.

This morning I saw the evidence of a life well lived.  My entire perspective changed. 

There was a young woman in a beautiful wedding dress beaming a smile holding onto the arm of an elegant man in a suit.  Their faces shone with love.  The photo was a portrait size and in black and white; aged scores of years. You could feel their love.  Two candles on either side of the little table below the portrait.  Mementos and memories on the table; he had passed away before her.  It reminded me of my mother’s tribute shadowbox for my Daddy.  Her home was full of framed pictures: children and grandchildren in various smiles and grins.  A few in the midst of laughter – those cherished candid photos that you keep even if they aren’t the best quality.  Worn rocker.  Stockings.  A Christmas tree.  An open Bible.  Her faith and the relationships she had cultivated radiated from each well-worn book, devotional, and study guide on that little bookshelf. My writer’s brain wondered how many of those books she or her husband had bought and then passed around. How many grandchildren had heard stories from that Children’s Bible with the bent binding?  Children told her goodbye: that they loved her, they didn’t want her to leave, that they would see her later in heaven, one told her to give daddy a kiss from her.  

That is a life well-lived.  

Her children loved her enough to keep taking care of her at home; like Mom did for Grandma Jeanette.  Don’t ever put me in a nursing home.  Because of love, they sacrificed and made it happen that they cared for mom at her home so she could die in peace.  Her face showed that peace.  

That is a life well-lived. 

I was so overwhelmed with emotion for that wonderful woman I didn’t know.  Grandma Jeanette told me once to “live with no regrets” which I also remember from the lady who gave me my first cookbook.  She’d been married four times and raised five boys.  Her life story was how to gather things and make stews and build add-ons to her house and save people from storms on the lake.  Her sons all passed on her faith; I played with her grandchildren and they were the first group of children I’d met who talked about Jesus like a close friend like my family did.  She wrote “God will bless your life, let Him lead,” in my cookbook cover (I was 7 years old).  She died shortly after at 90-something.  

That is a life well-lived. 

Live with no regrets.  Love without reservation.  

My goal is to allow my children to see Jesus through me, to trust Him in everything, to do my absolute best to shine His love wherever I can.  

Life doesn’t have to be long to be well-lived.  I consider the life I’ve already lived to be amazing.  I thank God for each day He’s given me.  For the challenges we’ve overcome as a family, for the health miracles which are the reason my babies and I are here, for the protection over my daughters’ hearts as they allow it, for the relationships we have with each other.  Those I’ve known for seasons who are friends like sisters and brothers in my heart.  Growing those relationships as best I can even when life is “too busy” and time is challenging; that is a goal. 

Live with no regrets.  Love without reservation. 

I was 12, she was a beautiful frail girl with a rapturous joy of life and Jesus and family when we met her.  She shared her love with everyone without caring what they thought.  If someone stared at her bald head, she would approach them and say, hi, how are you today? And try to show them love and happiness.  She came to our house probably because we treated her and her sister just like we treated anyone else; we played with them, swang with them, took them for canoe rides, fished on the shore while she braided flowers, played with our chickens and dogs together, told stories to each other, and otherwise enjoyed life.  She lost her battle with cancer shortly afterward, but I couldn’t cry.  She was home with Jesus like she talked about all the time.  She told us we had to still play with Danielle.  As long as we lived there, we did.  I still love Erica and Danielle like they were my own sisters; since we were sisters in the faith, we are sisters. 

That is a life well-lived. 

He was his sisters’ baby doll.  He protected everyone.  He was loved by everyone.  He knew who needed to hear and in turns shared his faith and struggles and love with them.  His smile told you everything you needed to know; he was genuine.  He died protecting those he cared about.  His legacy is the love and relationships left in the hearts of those he loved and who loved him; and the relationships they created when coming to celebrate his life.  He was my brother’s friend.  His family and mine were intertwined in so many relationships through many seasons of our lives.  

That is a life well-lived. 

My perspective shifted.  It set me back on the track that my brain keeps trying to veer me off of.  My true life goal is to shine with Jesus’ light: to make strong relationships, to build into people, to share my faith, to encourage others, to help when I can, to do my very best to love as Jesus does.  And in Jesus’ time, when my story on Earth is finished, I will go home and those I love will see a life well-lived. 

Right now, I’m living my life well-lived!

Thank you for reading!

Type at you next time!

~Nancy Tart

Turtles In The Kitchen

December 3, 2022

Turtles in the Kitchen


It had been one of those days.  You know, when you begin to question everything, your brain shouts accusing bits at you and highlights every choice you’ve made since infancy, and your biggest challenge is to find something joyful to think on or something to be grateful for.  

Jillian, Lucas, and Thea to the rescue!

“Mom! Where is Jillian?” cries Thea with a giggle.

“I’m a green turtle!” days Jillian’s muffled voice from under the green bin.  

A simple little rubbermaid bin.  It started life in our house about 14 or 15 years ago as a toy-bin because someone gave it to us with junk in it, a broken handle, and no top.  We sanded the broken plastic and put big toys in it.  At this location (smaller house, so smaller toy room and no space for it), it is our pantry dump bin; usually it contains baggies, extras that need a box like soaps, random cables, an occasional box that’s too big for the shelf, etc.  Since Halloween, it had been used to set everyone’s separate candy/treat buckets inside and had been atop the refrigerator.  This morning I had moved it to the floor with the intention of wiping it out and putting it back in the pantry. 

Instead, it ended up being a turtle shell over Jillian!  

Lucas and Thea were laughing so hard, “look, you can’t see her toes!”  and “Mom!  Jillian’s a turtle with a hard shell!”  And Lucas banged drums on the shell. 

Grandma has a red plastic bin she had just emptied that normally has decorations in it.  

“Mom!” I hear a scream-yell from the kitchen.  

“Look!” Yells Thea as she pulls the red bin over her head, “two turtles!” 

“Two turtles!” Yells Lucas from the other, (Jillian is guiding Thea Turtle around so she doesn’t hit anything as she race-crawls around the kitchen)

I smile at so much fun from imagination and two silly plastic bins.  Thank you God, for imagination!  Thank you God, that you know my heart and send these little angels to make me remember that I just need simplicity to smile.  My mood shifted from fighting my accusing brain to enjoying my children’s joy.  He uses the simple to confound the wise.  In the still small voice.  All of Creation shouts His praise.  A child shall lead them.  All these sayings pound in my brain to drown out the accusations.  

And now the turtles are a “turtle sandwich” to which one of my teenagers said, “mom, that’s something else” and giggled. (Someone has been reading their Biology book.)

Three turtles to the rescue!

Sometimes it’s a pretend turtle in the kitchen that can bring you joy!  Thank you, God, for the blessings you have given us!

Thank you for reading!

Type at you next time!

~Nancy Tart

Yammer

In case you didn’t know, I’m fascinated with words. The English language is amazing as the myriad of possible adjectives are beyond enumeration. (Exaggeration? Likely, I’ll bet someone, somewhere, has a count on how many adjectives are proper in our English.)
#WritersBrain #Write #Author #AuthorBrain #ILoveWriting #TheEnglishLanguageIsBeautiful #HowManyWordsMeanLove #OldMovie #Adjective #Noun #ILoveWords #WordsAreWonderful #PerfectWord #Yammer #IGetTooExcitedReadingTheDictionary

November 4, 2022

Yammer


In case you didn’t know, I’m fascinated with words.  The English language is amazing as the myriad of possible adjectives are beyond enumeration.  (Exaggeration? Likely, I’ll bet someone, somewhere, has a count on how many adjectives are proper in our English.

Nevertheless: Let’s dive into this rather funny anecdote.  

I’ve finished a project I’ve been working on for over ten years.  I started it with a cool dream and just wrote the outline in my head and fleshed out my main characters.  I let it sit for a while until my dad asked one day if I was working on any long projects.  Yes!  Always – I have this one and about fifteen others I choose to pick at depending on what mood.  Two more are close to completion now.  But at that time, for whatever reason, I highlighted this one.  

He kept asking how work was doing in it.  He wanted to know what this or that character was doing.  When was I going to introduce this or that concept.  Because of his research that parallelled mine, I kept working on this project.  I paused for almost three years after Daddy died because I’d cry just thinking about this project.  A few months ago, though, I started on what I call a “stint” – my brain just ran with connecting each of the parts and filling in all the gaps.  I ended up finishing a few days ago and proofing and finalizing.  

So, my craziness?  I was looking for a chapter name – in this project, all the chapter names are alliterative.  I needed a “y” word that meant something like dismay, cry of pain, whining, etc.  So I opened my old creaky dictionary and started reading the “y” section.  

Yammering jumped out at me! 

I was so stinking excited!  I asked myself, “how in the Earth am I so excited over finding one word?” 

Seriously!  But “yammer” means to whine or complain, to make an outcry or clamor, to talk loudly and persistently.  It was perfect!  I love the complexity and beauty of the English language!  I love how I can find just the right word for exactly what I need.  It’s like in “Mutiny on the Bounty” (1935) movie I watched over and over as a child; this guy writing a dictionary says, “how is it your language has so many words that mean love?” 

I used to answer with, “and English doesn’t?” (of course, the Byam couldn’t hear me). 

And that is why I love writing!  I love words, I love painting pictures with words, I love finding things that are super cool to say and mean simple things but make people give you the “huh?” face… Like ameliorate – it means “to make better.” 

My brother repeated it in sentences so often that my daughters at 2 and 4 years old used it! 

Anyway, I’m getting back to finding more perfect adjectives to match my nouns in all 40 of my chapter titles!  

Type at you next time!

~Nancy Tart

Once Upon a Date

Now, though… I understand the insane shock that caused by parents not to jump with joy when I showed off my ring and announced I was engaged. #TotalAndCompleteShock

Once Upon a Date

August 2, 2022

Nineteen year old me was crazy with excitement at 10pm at a bowling alley until 1am, (cosmic bowling in 2002) but my dad looked like he’d been shot with bright headlights in the dead of a new moon night.  Now, though – I understand the insane shock that caused my parents not to jump with joy when I showed off my ring and announced I was engaged.  Total and complete shock.  At 10pm after a long day at work, hearing the same news from one of my kids overloaded my tired brain; I bet I looked like they’d shone ultra-blue headlights in my face on a new moon night!

Now I’m praying I can be a godly mentor for my daughters (all of them, but especially Christina at this moment) and my son.  I am so super thankful for those I consider mentors I’ve learned from in my life.  Sometimes they were longtime friends, my moms (one God gave me at birth, the other God gifted me when I married Louis), and some were in my life for a few days, one meeting, or a season. 

I’m listening to Christina with her planning (wedding once she has her masters in 2025) and discussing life plans for the future, and I’m smiling because I remember me twenty years ago and “We’ve Only Just Begun” by The Carpenters was filling my brain on repeat.

Really odd little tidbit?  I was engaged on July 20, 2002 & Christina’s engagement date was “Anastasia’s birthday” but 1am – aka July 20, 2022.  And time?  Cosmic bowling ended at 1am on really July 21…  I don’t do coincidence (haha).   

Thank you for reading!

Type at you later,

~Nancy Tart

Doubly Blessed

A tiny story about how my prayers being answered became my children being doubly blessed!

January 15, 2022

Doubly Blessed

Note: (wrote this December 5, 2021 when whomever decided my computer operating system is too old to connect to wordpress anymore!)

One day I was cleaning bathrooms at a church work day and met a wonderful woman.  She was cheerful and spoke about Jesus like a best friend.  She was encouraging.  I thought “I’d like to learn about life from her!”  I saw her a few times over the next year or so at that church.  My brother liked the youth pastor and he needed a chaperone – thus being, when the youth group was participating in clean-up days or work days or whatever, I was there with him.  We started attending that church. 

About fourteen months later on a warm July afternoon, I went to meet the parents of the young man I had started dating that Friday.  Although I knew God was telling me I had the green light to marry this one, my logical brain was fighting that suggestion.  The woman I wanted to learn from?  I was dating her middle son!

I have an amazing mother whom I love.  God gifted her to me when I was born.  I never thought I would love another woman in a similar way.

But God’s ways are awesome! 

I tell people I have two moms.  One I was born with and one I got when I married Louis.  I love how Joanne is so accepting, loving, supporting, and helpful.  She and my mother, Tina, are quite similar.   Someone mentioned today that the normal “mother-in-law” is someone you fight with and tolerate or even don’t like.  I’m so grateful for the blessing of my mother-in-law.

I pray that God gives me the same grace to my children’s spouses.

This is because the blessing of loving in-laws passes through generations.  Loving interaction and respect between the parents and newlyweds turns into future strong grandchild-grandparent ties.  When a mother-in-law or father-in-law is a friend and mentor, the grandchildren see their parents show respect and love to their parents; visibly strengthening the children’s understanding of “honoring fathers and mothers” and set the stage for generational connections that are hard to sever.  My children have many fond memories of their grandparents on both sides!  I’m so thankful for that.  

That I’m a friendly, welcoming person who looks at the girls’ future husbands and Lucas’ future wife not as competition for their attention but as blessings God has planted in my life as well as theirs.  I pray to be like Joanne.  She is such a wonderful model of mother, grandmother, mother-in-law, and friend.  I have known and loved her for twenty years – related to her for a little over nineteen. 

I smile; I never considered how sweet God’s answer to my heart’s desire to “learn about life” from the bubbly, serious, hardworking woman whose company I enjoyed one Saturday while cleaning bathrooms at our “new” church – I would really get to do life with her!  She would be my mom. 

Thank you Jesus for amazing blessings!

Thank you for reading,

Type at you next time!

~Nancy Tart

God! Help!

January 5, 2021

God! Help!

This blog is for those moms, big sisters, teachers, coaches, etc. who have ever raised their hands up in the sky and demanded with tears streaming down their eyes, “God! Help!”

If you’ve never done that, please leave the rest of us in our private knowledge of complete crazy… nothing to see or read here… Thank you.

Now that I’m addressing those of you, who like me, know that they only get through life with God’s routine and very often injections of aid: understand that you are really, really not alone!

There are way more of us out here than you know.

But people don’t always see that. Still. That doesn’t mean we don’t completely loose it and at least internally… SCREAM for HELP!

Ever had a friend compliment you by saying, “wow, you were so calm.”

Your mind goes, “um.. what????” And you realize that only God saw your frantic desperate prayers as you grabbed napkins, wiped up your child’s blood trying not to freak out at her big sister’s just-started party while on your way to meet said child in the bathroom with unknown injury as you realize another daughter is already cleaning more blood (MORE BLOOD?? God, let me not scare her, make me calm.) on a gym mat. You realize that the frantic prayers were interpreted as deep breaths – thank you Jesus for oxygen and working lungs! Said child cries and you are thinking, “God, this injury is serious, help me!” but when you clean it and she whines, “I don’t want to go home! I want to play with my friends!”

Then there’s the serious prayer as you fight the urge of laughter-that-borders-on-insanity, “God, give me patience with this child!”

Bloody head wound clean. Check.

Bleeding stopped. Crisis averted. Check.

10,000+ frantic “God, you better help me” prayers in the span of 45 seconds while dealing with said child who doesn’t see that this is an INJURY and wants to GET BACK UP AND START FLIPPING! Double check.

Super glue, band-aid, and the older kids are like, “do we need to go?” Decision time. (This was supposed to be a food party & dinner & home is 45 minutes away plus party will be over & have to pick up actual party-goer in about 2 hours.) Stay.

Instant heart attack what feels like 5 seconds later when said injured child is about to show off her routine on bars – “DO YOU WANT TO LIVE TO ADULTHOOD??” (No, I didn’t scream that.)

But. I WANTED TO!! Instead it was “GOD HELP ME!” in my frantic brain while I think I may have jumped the knee wall to grab said child and firmly direct her back to my table in a solid seat (DID YOU REALLY JUST LEAN THAT FOLDING CHAIR ON TWO LEGS!!!???) beside me to watch her. Calm. Breathe. “GOD! HELP ME!” (Of course, that was a mental scream again.)

End the frantic night. (Thank you, Jesus!)

I’m laying in bed, praying that her head heals well and there’s no infection. Reading Proverbs for whatever chapter the day was (you know, when you can’t think of anything but Proverbs has a chapter for every day in the month?), I came across timeless wisdom that basically said (my brain translated the words to the following, it is NOT a direct quote:), “give everything to God and know that you aren’t perfect without Him.”

Truth.

Give over my worries. Give over my fears. In. Real. Time.

If I just write it on paper (or type it in a blog), that’s just words. What shows that I do trust God is in real time. When my toddlers decides to tilt her head back and scream bloody murder with a huge smirk because I’m on the phone. (PATIENCE, PLEASE!) When my boy is annoying his sisters for the bazillionth time in one minute. (Please, God, don’t let them kill him.) When an attack comes and it feels like the life-breath from my lungs is being sucked out by a giant vacuum. (Calm. Breathe. God. Help. Me.)

This is trusting in real time.

This is choosing to know that I cannot do anything without Jesus.

This is knowing that with Jesus I ca do all things. I can breathe. I can parent. I can mother. I can coach. I can love. Without Him, I can’t do any of those things.

So, yes, I know I’m imperfect. (I’m FAR from perfect!)

But…

I trust in the perfect one. I ask Him for help daily (um… thousands of times a day, in every situation I get stuck in!) and He answers with comfort, ideas, calm, and love.

Take a breath. Breathe in Jesus, breathe out, breathe in love, breathe out; now face your challenge! (As I hear a squeal from the kitchen followed by a crash… doesn’t sound like anything broke… “MOM!”) God, they are your children; HELP ME! I need to parent them to lead them to You, show me how.

Type at you later!

~Nancy Tart

P.S.: Those who were there, yes, I was freaking out inside. Yes, she is okay and nothing left to point at proudly and say “look what happened to me!”

Failing to Compare

July 23, 2020

Failing to Compare

Do you know what I hope I fail in? 

Seriously.  I’m super competitive by nature.  I had to teach myself that trying to “be my best” is a different thing than being better than someone else. 

I had to fail at comparing. 

What are we at, 8 billion people on the planet?  Each one of us has a unique set of circumstances, challenges, goals, cultures, and opportunities.  How can we possibly compare ourselves to each other?

Simplify: we do it in our own heads even if people don’t for us. So we have to learn not to compare in our own heads too!

Your child is acting out. 

From people who may or may not know you comes the onslaught: “that’s because you work,” “that’s because you stay home all day,” “that’s because you are too busy,” “that’s because you never go on playdates,” “that’s because you have him around too many children,” “that’s because you have him in vpk,” “that’s because you home school,” “that’s because your mom ate Wendy’s Frosties with French fries while carrying you…”

And it goes on and on!  They give you reasons to blame yourself or your situation for the child crying in the grocery cart.

You know, mentally, it’s been a long day or he just woke up and the bright lights hurt his eyes or he’s teething or maybe he flat out doesn’t want to be in the store today but you let the judging start in you.  Now you blame yourself. 

One child is independent at 6: he wakes up before the rooster crows, does schoolwork without prodding, makes healthy food if there isn’t a ready meal, dresses himself and three younger siblings and feeds the dog before you have your coffee.  Another is 13 and you can’t trust him with the dog for three seconds, he never does anything without you doing it for him, you bought him sliders and gave up on shoelaces decades ago, and it scares you that the government thinks this kid can climb into a 2-ton vehicle in less than three years and turn himself into a human projectile at 70mph+.  (Exaggerated, I know, but still!)

You find yourself blaming you and your circumstances for how your kids are. 

Stop it!

Mommy, your kids are fine!

They have their own unique personalities and the unique way God set in them from when they were knit together in your womb!  Your job is to help them find their way.  It’s a really cool study to really research the Hebrew on that passage you know, “Train up a child…” the word way there means “the traits that are his” we might say his personality, likes, and dreams.  Dig into that one more when you have time – awesome study. 

ANYWAY!  Back to your mind yelling at you and beating you up because your children are different.  Different than you, different than your spouse, different than their siblings, friends, teammates, schoolmates – YES! They were all made different.  Each a beautiful masterpiece God is still carefully crafting with His own hands.

That independent child?  We lead and guide and pray they choose to ask for help when they face something that looks difficult – we’d rather them not make the same mistakes we did.  (Waving my hand, I was that independent child and humility was/is a challenge for me!)

The 13 year old that seems lazy and unproductive?  Watch what falling in love with a sport, subject, or animal will do for him.  You turn around and that one is buying books on said subject, devoting hours, days, whole weeks lost in it, suddenly you blink and he’s that subject’s walking encyclopedia – then if you listen you’ll discover that was always there, he studies one thing at a time and shoelaces, school deadlines, and things that didn’t interest him just didn’t get any attention.   

When you feel like your brain is beating you up because of your parenting, your situation, and your children not being “perfect,” remind your brain that no one is perfect.  There are no perfect children.  (Okay, be honest, you aren’t living in a Jewish village 2000 years ago watching Joseph and Mary parent Jesus – my brain wouldn’t have shut up watching a real perfect kid!)

You can’t say to yourself, “I did xyz” regarding a child’s personality unless you are using that as a tool to ask yourself, “how do I help him overcome this?”  Because yes, I know, going through financial instability, parents going to work or coming home, changing schools, changing neighborhoods, losing family members, that all does contribute to the development of personality and psyche in a child (or in an adult, am I right?) so understanding is good to help more forward – but the best way to help is to LISTEN.

Sit with them when you can – vehicles are normally good because they are trapped and can’t go anywhere.  And ditch the devices.  Unless you are parenting long distance, look in their eyes and listen with your whole self.  It doesn’t have to look like two adults over coffee at a Barnes & Noble, either.  Think like them.  You can be playing a video game with your kid and have deep conversation.  You can be building duplo blocks and get the scoop on everything in his little heart.

Listen to them.  Ask them prodding questions about their thoughts, their dreams, their goals, and what things have impacted them.  You will learn a lot.  Let them speak as much as you can.  You lecturing the same stuff becomes listening to a broken record.  You need to hear them as much as they need to talk to you.  Learn their hearts.  If you forget stuff sometimes like I do, WRITE DOWN important stuff and file it away somewhere.  That way when you want to know your daughter’s favorite color you don’t have to text her sister.

Fail to compare.  ALWAYS choose not to compare.  If you hear them saying “at least I’m better than so-and-so…” ask why they feel that way and then tell them how each person is unique.  If they want to be better at something, encourage it!  But don’t compare with others.  They don’t know “so-and-so’s” full heart story.  (Side note on that is let them read “To Kill A Mockingbird” or watch the Gregory Peck film version.) Don’t compare.  Especially don’t compare siblings!

Choose to change what you can (only yourself and the environment you create) and accept what you can’t (the personality of others and situations you have no control over).

Do your best in the environment you have.  That is all we can do.  Mothers for millennia have been doing just that – wars, famines, massive global flood, cultural and political changes, pestilences, and economic booms and busts notwithstanding, Mothers continue to do their best for their children.  

Fail to compare.

Instead of tearing each other down, we should build each other up.  We should provide safe environments for each other to come, talk deeply, and gather advice.  We live helping each other because we know the power is not in comparing ourselves with another but with helping each other up.  We need that type of love.  We need to build each other up instead of compare and break down.  Our children see how we treat others when they are near and when we are alone – character is what we say and do when no one is watching.  Build up.  Encourage.  Instead of judging someone else, rejoice with them or encourage them.

This is for our own children too.  Build them up, encourage them, rejoice with them, pray for them, and lead them in their own unique and special way.

If you catch yourself comparing yourself to another or your children to each other or another’s child… Stop.  Instead, choose to encourage or rejoice.  Your heart will smile more and that will show on your face and in your attitude – this causes joy in your heart!

Thank you for reading!

Type at you next time,

~Nancy Tart

Improvising

April 10, 2020

Improvising

Sometimes things don’t go as planned.

So you have to learn to improvise.  In the words from a movie I used to watch with my Daddy, “adapt and overcome.” (Heartbreak Ridge with Clint Eastwood)  Daddy used that phrase all the time, along with “think outside the box,” and “look at it from every angle.”  He loved how the scientists and engineers basically dumped a box of items on the table in front of themselves when trying to bring Apollo 13 back to Earth and said “this is what they have, fix the problem with this.”

This kind of thinking is what I try to teach as an educator.  I try to have my characters in books use it to solve problems so my readers will grasp the concept that sometimes there are various ways of solving a problem and all of them aren’t obvious. 

These deep thoughts came from this: We wanted to watch a family movie and I wanted popcorn.  We always air pop popcorn with a new movie!  Not a kernel in sight (a 2nd Lieutenant and an Airman, but those wouldn’t work). 

Jaquline said, “I’ll make popcorn tangerines!”

She presented us with this

And we continued our family movie night.

Sometimes, you have to do with what you have.  Silly thoughts from no popcorn and eating tangerines from a flower instead, right?  That’s my crazy writer’s brain.

What have you done to improvise lately?  Something that you normally do one way but now are doing differently?

Thank you for reading.

Type at you next time,

~Nancy Tart

Overcomer: Movie Review

September 6, 2019

Overcomer

My family went to see the new Kendrick brothers’ movie, “Overcomer” on opening weekend.  Oh. My!  This film has great acting, believable serious characters, some realistic humor, and glaring, real-life truth.  It catches you into the storyline almost instantly.  Major disappointment we can all relate to begins the story.  The one glimmer of hope comes from the coach consoling his players with a very serious, “next year will be our year.”

Well, life happens.

(Isn’t that always what seems to be true? We plan what we see as perfection, but a monkey-wrench gets tossed in to muck up said plans.)

The primary employer in the area closes, relocating to another area and because it offered the workers transition into new jobs, of course, most workers relocate along with it – taking the team members with them in ones and twos until only one is left.  Imagine being 17 years old, hoping for a scholarship in your favorite sport and boom, because of something outside of your control, your team is decimated to where you don’t even have a poor team to be the star of.  This faces the coach’s eldest son. 

Meanwhile, the coach is facing an aggravation that blows up in slamming bricks into shattered bits of sand.  He can’t see the light of anything.  No team, 10% pay cut, no scholarship for his eldest son, and being “forced” to coach in a sport he pretty much hates, cross-country, with a team of one (okay, if you’ve seen the trailers, this isn’t a spoiler) – a girl with asthma. 

Enter Hannah.  A petty thief stealing to prove she can get away with is who happens to be granted what her grandmother believes is a “full scholarship,” really her private school tuition is paid for by her late mother’s friend.  This girl feels she has no friends, feels abandoned by everyone (parents are dead, Grandmother is always working), and good at only one thing – running. 

Coach’s wife feels they are teachers to answer a calling of caring for students and showing love.  She accepts Hannah 100% without reservation. 

Coach is still internally fuming over his losses. 

Providentially, he accidently steps into Thomas’ room.  A man whose not-so-old body is being torn apart by wasting diseases brought on by his drug-addicted and abusive past.  He was a champion runner.  Over time, Coach picks Thomas’ brain on how to coach Hannah. 

*Spoiler Alert!*

Don’t go any farther if you don’t want the whole “hidden” twist revealed.  As the blind Thomas asks Coach about himself, I whispered to Thea (she can’t tell anyone anyway, but I like to talk about movies as I watch them and she doesn’t care if I “ruin” the movie) “Thomas is Hannah’s father.”

Yep.  My storywriter brain is connecting the “coincidence dots” and morphing an awesome story of redemption – yes, that’s what the movie does.  Thomas abandoned his family (leaving Hannah with her Grandmother who holds a deep root of bitterness) to chase drugs and junk.  Once though, Thomas was a champion runner.  He believes God has given him a second chance. 

Doesn’t God always do that?  He always gives us a chance at redemption.  I love pointing out stories in real life and in movies where there are second chances or last minute redemptions.  Yes, we are nerds, so I’m usually at least twice a week discussing the redemption story of Star Wars – you know, how Anakin had good intentions, fell away from the good side, wrestled with himself, did so many bad things, yet redeemed himself with his last few hours and gets to be a “good part” of the force.  Redemption has always been offered but we have to accept it. 

Overcomer is one the girls can’t wait to add to our collection – if we didn’t have a limited budget, our clan of ten (my mom joined us) would have gone to see it the next day too, bringing friends along! That is the first time the girls wanted to go back to the theater and see the same movie again.  Usually, if we see a movie together (usually a Star Wars flick), they leave saying “I can’t wait til it’s on DVD!” This one was, “can we see this again tomorrow?”

One line got me as a mother: “For 6 weeks, I had the perfect Dad.”  (Hannah says this at Thomas’ funeral.)  I cried. God used what looked like simple choices to weave together a tapestry of forgiveness, freedom, and purpose for so many people.

What has God orchestrated you toward?  Are you open to love and forgive, or are you stubbornly clinging to bitterness as revenge?  Think about it; what one choice did you agree with God on and now see so much more than just one simple thought of “oh yeah, I did the right thing.”

I love it when movies make me reflect on my heart.

Type at you next time,

~Nancy Tart

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