Sinking Confidence

 

“Let me get that for you,” I say as I open the gate to the pool’s entrance for a family of four. The mother carries both a baby of about one and a plastic ring with a seat in the middle. The father’s hands are laden with towels and a cooler while managing a very excited little boy of about five carrying a water gun as big as he is. I’m so focused on the cute baby with her large blue eyes and full head of black hair, I don’t see the obvious. That will happen later.

 
Only one highly coveted table with an umbrella remains and it’s all the way by the deep end of the pool. They quickly claim it and immediately apply sunscreen to the bouncy little boy with the water gun.
 

Thanks to Memorial Day, we enjoy a three day weekend. I’m off work, the girls are out of school, and we decide to spend a day of sun and fun at the pool.

 

“Watch me! Watch me!” exclaims Grace as she dives deftly into the deep end of the pool. She wants me to rate her dives on a scale from one-to-ten.  

 

“That’s a ten!” I declare, wiggling all ten of my fingers.

 

“What about me!” Bella squeals in mid-dive.

 

“Another ten!”

 

“They’re doing so well. Their diving really has improved since last year,” says my daughter, Tish, also known as Aunt Kiki, sitting in the lounge chair next to mine.

 
Grace and Bella are happy little fishes and I’m content relaxing, soaking up a few rays, and catching up on my reading.
 

Bella & Grace

 

Before long, the bouncy boy zooms by clutching his water gun and jumps into the shallow end of the pool. He tries to swim but his movements seem too erratic. I notice him breathing hard through his mouth. I don’t like what I’m seeing. I look to his parents; their attention is on the baby as they struggle to place her into the special floatation device.
 

I point towards the boy and yell to the parents, “Is he okay?”

 

“Oh yeah, he can swim,” the father says as he throws a quick glance in the boy’s direction before focusing his attention back to the baby.

 

My maternal antennas are sensing otherwise.

 

I notice the boy frantically flailing and breathing water in through his mouth.

 

He gurgles, “Help!” before sinking beneath the water.

 

By now I’m on my feet and running and shout to the boy’s parents, “He’s not okay!”

 

I notice from the corner of my eye the father and I dive in simultaneously. He dives in the deep end. I'm closer to the little boy and dive in the shallow end careful to skim the surface, scoop the little boy under his arms, and lift his head above the water. I'm thankful for the water's buoyancy; he's a large boy for his age. He’s also completely panicked and doesn’t realize his feet can touch the bottom.

 

“You’re gonna be okay.” I reassure.

 

By now the father reaches the little boy, takes him from my arms, lifts him to the side of the pool, and gently soothes him while patting his back. The little boy coughs up buckets of water. The father looks at me and says a sincere, “thank you.”

 

Tish drapes a towel around me as I wade out of the pool’s cool water and hands me my sunglasses that I had flung before diving in. I’m still mentally processing what just happened and not understanding the parent’s initial nonchalant attitude.

 

  

“Mom, the father only has one leg,” Tish says while pointing to the prosthetic leg lying on the side of the pool.  She says while I was tossing my sunglasses he was tossing his prosthetic leg with great speed before diving into the pool.

 

Although the father is in the water, I can clearly see one whole leg and the other leg missing from the knee down. The water seems to mysteriously support his missing leg as he stands and comforts the little boy.

 

Soon the mother walks over; the baby is finally situated in the rubber ring with the seat in the middle. She slowly enters the pool with the baby and joins her husband.

 

“Is your son okay?” I ask.

“Oh, he’s not our son, he’s our grandson and this is our granddaughter. We just returned from a weeklong vacation with them in Myrtle Beach. Our grandson, Jake, swam like a fish in the hotel’s pool in Myrtle Beach. He did just fine for an entire week.”

 

“He really can swim!” The grandfather adds. “Honestly! He swam like a fish all last week. I don’t understand what just happened!”

 



 Apparently, this pool was unfamiliar territory to little Jake. He simply lost his confidence and panicked. The grandparents had spent 7 days watching him swim effortlessly in the hotel pool. Today they assumed he was clowning around, when in reality he was on the verge of drowning.
 

It made me think of the times when my self-confidence wavered and I felt as if I was drowning in a pool of uncertainty.

 All Jake had to do was trust and let his little feet touch the pool’s bottom. Instead, he went into I’m drowning mode and allowed fear to overtake him.

 

Can you remember a time when you lost your confidence? Did you want to give up?

 

God is our safe place and our strength. He is always our help when we are in trouble. So we will not be afraid, even if the earth is shaken and the mountains fall into the center of the sea. Psalm 46:1

 

 

Three's Company

Courtesy of homesteadygardens.com

While pulling into the driveway after a long day at the office, I noticed the tall grass covering the front lawn, the overgrown azaleas bordering the side yard, and the pine trees shedding needles that had to be raked.

I loved our big, lush yard located just a block away from the Intracoastal Waterway, however maintaining it was simply time-consuming and overwhelming.

“I’m ready for concrete,” I declared to Tom one day.

He understood. It was time to downsize.  

After all, it was he who did most of the yard work. I mainly complained about it. Besides, it was just he and I, all the kids were grown and moved out.

Before long, we found ourselves in a newly-built three bedroom townhouse surrounded by concrete. I was delighted. So was Tom. It was wonderful to live in a low-maintenance community where a landscaping crew, not us, took care of what little shrubs and grass surrounded our townhome. I also enjoyed decorating our new home. It felt great to have a new place.

We’d lived in our townhouse for about a year when our daughter, Tish, moved back home to complete college. She stayed in the spacious bedroom downstairs with an adjoining bathroom, thus giving her ample privacy and a quiet space to study. Upstairs was my and Tom’s bedroom, his office and the laundry room.

Sadly, over the coming months our son, Thomas, went through a painful divorce and custody battle. In the end he won custody of his two daughters, Grace and Bella, ages 2 and 1. He also moved back home – our downsized home.

How do we fit four adults and two little ones into a small, 1,350 square feet three bedroom townhouse?

Very creatively!

Our first order of business was to find sleeping quarters for everyone.

We moved two-year-old Grace into our room. She slept in her toddler bed next to my and Tom’s bed. I loved having her in there, too. Her little face was so angelic; at night I would often lie in bed for hours and just watch her sleep.

Thomas moved into Tom’s office. Thankfully it had a bed as it doubled as a guest room as well. Miraculously, we managed to fit Bella’s crib in there. It was a tight fit, but it worked.

Our second order of business was locating closet space for everyone.

To say closet space was limited would have been an understatement.

Tom’s office also served as his hobby room where he repaired fishing rods and worked on model boats. His office closet stored his hobby supplies. But somehow Thomas managed to squeeze in a few of his clothes.

Our next challenge was figuring out a place to keep the girl’s items.

The downstairs pantry where we kept our canned goods was huge. It was located just beneath the stairs. The builders didn’t waste any space; they made our food pantry almost the size of the entire wall.

It was also the only remaining storage space available. So Tom installed a shower curtain rod in it to hang the girl’s clothes and I added some pink storage boxes for shoes, toys, diapers, etc. As makeshift as it was, it was perfectly effective.

 

Photo courtesy of homedit.com



Almost ten years later, we are still living in our three bedroom townhouse. Tish has since landed a great job with a local non-profit and living on her own. Thomas has moved in with my aging parents in order to help them. He sees the girls on a regular basis and works with Tom at his landscaping business. Tom has reclaimed his office/hobby room. The girls now share the large downstairs bedroom with its two large closets and adjoining bathroom. It's been perfect for them.

My advice for grandparents, caregivers, or anyone for that matter having to make living accommodations: although it is a sacrifice, you need to be creative and flexible. Use whatever space you have available. And when I say whatever, I mean WHATEVER space you have, even if it means rearranging spaces. You can make it work, you’ll be surprised. We certainly were!

 

This would also be a great opportunity to de-clutter; to get rid of those things collecting dust around your home that you don't use anymore. Donate or consign them.

Homedit.com has over 60 great ideas for under stairs storage. You’ll be amazed at the wonderful spaces you can create right under your stairs!

 

Photo courtesy of homedit.com



Need help getting started? Please visit my friend Melissa Capps at Simple Spaces for ideas on getting organized and finding solutions to reducing clutter in your home. She’s an organizational whiz and also a regular guest on WWAY. Check out this recent segment on closet organization.  

Friends, thank you for stopping by today. Please leave a comment below and share your unique ideas on creating spaces, getting organized or reducing clutter. I want to hear from you!

 

The Lord also keeps safe those who suffer. He is a safe place in times of trouble.  Psalm 9:9

-Beth

Mothers & Grandmothers: Kingdom Influencers

For I recall the sincere faith which is in your heart -- a faith that dwelt first in your grandmother Lois, then in your mother Eunice, and, I am fully convinced, now dwells in you also.  2 Timothy 1:5

 

 

Today is Mother’s Day, that one day out of the year when millions of mothers across America receive accolades in the form of handmade cards embellished in watercolor, breakfast in bed, flowers, and gifts galore.

What mother doesn’t enjoy a little appreciation once-a-year?

What a minute… once-a-year? That’s just nuts!

 

Personally, I think instead of Mother’s Day, we should have Mother’s Hour, kinda like Happy Hour, everyday at 5:00 PM. Let’s be honest. By 5:00 our energy is zapped, the kids are hungry and cranky, homework needs to be done, dinner is boiling over on the stove, and Dad’s snoozing away in the Lazy Boy.

 

I’d like to imagine Chef Emeril Lagasse conveniently drops by every afternoon at 5:00, cooks me a gourmet dinner, entertains the kids with his charming wit and culinary skills, and helps them complete their homework while I nap for an hour.

 

 

A girl can dream, right?

 

Mothers are great influencers. So are grandmothers.

 

The apostle Paul reminds us that even one parent or grandparent can be a positive influence.

 

According to the Bible, Timothy’s father was Greek and his mother was Jewish.

 

Timothy’s mother, Eunice, and his grandmother, Lois, were profound influencers during his formative years. Despite the negative influences surrounding him – a gentile nation, an unbelieving father, Timothy’s mother and grandmother managed to teach him in the ways of the Lord.

 

From infancy you have known the Holy Scriptures, which are able to make you wise for salvation through faith in Jesus Christ. 2 Timothy 3:15

 

At a young age, thanks to his mother and grandmother's diligence, Timothy became one of the early ministers and influencers in the Church serving alongside Paul.

 

Whether you’re a grandmother helping to raise her grandchildren, or a busy working mom: you're a Kingdom Influencer, daring to make sacrifices in order to raise a Timothy or an Esther.

 

Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also and he praises her: "Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all."  Proverbs 31:28-29

 

It may be a little unlikely that Chef Emeril Lagasse will be stopping by your home today; however, I hope you’ll still be able to squeeze in a nap!

 

Happy Mother’s Day!

 

 

-Beth

 

 

 

Spoiler Alert!

When a grandchild is born, so is a Grandparent.

“Adrianna, are you really going to let them do that,” Tish says to me sarcastically.
 

Okay, my name is Beth, not Adrianna.  Adrianna is the daughter of a former neighbor of ours. Her grandparents had raised her since birth.  My earliest memory of Adrianna’s outrageous behavior is when I ran into them at the mall and witnessed the biggest temper tantrum I’d ever seen from a nine-year-old. She was throwing a hissy-fit over a pair of earrings. Out of sheer embarrassment, Ella, the grandmother, finally caved in and bought them for her.

 

Photo courtesy of ehattons.com

 

Years later when Adrianna turned sweet 16, Ella and grandpa, Frank, bought her a brand new red, BMW convertible. I was aghast, mainly because Ella and Frank were retired and lived on a limited income. But when it came to Adrianna, there simply were no limits.

 

Predictably, Adrianna had multiple fender-benders and speeding tickets, until a judge finally revoked her driver’s license for two years.

I shouldn’t have been surprised at the outlandish gift she received upon graduating high school, either. No fancy car this time. No sir, only the best for Adrianna; she got a boob-job instead. Yes, a complete set of enormous breasts.  

What is she planning on doing with those things? I remember thinking.

The answer came the end of that summer when she became a dancer and was using them for… well, you know.

My daughter, Tish, AKA: Aunt Kiki, my voice of reason at times, calls me Adrianna when I step out of Mommy Mode and into the proverbial spoil ‘em rotten Grandma Mode. A gentle reminder of the repercussions of overindulgence.

 

A grandparent's love is something I can only describe as extravagant. But extravagant love doesn't have to be demonstrated in massive amounts of sugar and material things.

For grandparents functioning in dual roles as grandparent and parent, we are raising children to become positive contributors to society, not freeloaders.

Here are some ideas to help keep you grounded. In the meantime, remember what love really means: TIME.

Three Tips to Spoil Right, Not Rotten

1. Spend Time Instead of Dollars
 

Grace & Bella fishing at the lake



Outdoor activities like fishing, camping, hiking, or even a trip to the zoo and a day at the park, are lots of fun and healthy, too.

2. Be Creative: Crafty

 

Drawing by Grace




 

Grandparents have the wonderful opportunity to pass on their talents such as drawing, painting, sewing, baking, woodworking, playing an instrument, etc., to their grandchildren. (Pinterest is also a great way to find creative ideas.)

 

Spur-of-the-Moment Fun





OK, as grandparents we’re allowed to spoil, but just a bit. An occasional triple scoop of ice cream or a trip to the mall can make a day fun and memorable.


Are you spoiling right or, are you spoiling rotten?

Share your ideas of how you spoil right, not rotten.


-Beth