Most of the action these days is happening at the Facebook page while I’m busy writing away to get the website up and new material to offer.  So come join me there or on Twitter. I’m still offering links to interesting articles and providing parenting tips along with the usual “what do you guys think” question thrown in.

Then, stay tuned.  I have a head full of thoughts I’d like to share and to interact with you on.  Can’t wait to get back to blogging real soon!

Happy parenting!

Tara

This decision was made for a variety of reasons and I can assure you that it was not made lightly.  We pursued many options, including discussions with several individuals regarding the possibility of taking over the organization.  At this time, there was not a good fit for either the organization or these individuals.

I cofounded Xylem Family Resource almost seven years ago and have personally invested a lot of time, energy, emotion, money, and love into Xylem and the beautiful families it had the privilege to serve. I have learned so much on this journey. I am honored that I was entrusted with this endeavor.  And I am humbled that I got to play some role in the hundreds of families that Xylem was able to help toward restoration in the past seven years. 

Xylem could not have been the ministry it was without all of the work of the contractors, educators, volunteers and supporters over the years.  There were so many amazing people involved in this ministry dedicated to supporting families.  Many of these individuals are still involved in serving families in some capacity and in a sense will be continuing the ministry of Xylem in their community in their own ways. It was an honor and privilege to be involved with so many wonderful people who had a desire to serve and support families.

When nonprofits are dissolved, their assets must be distributed to other nonprofits.  All of the XFR assets are being distributed between Denver Community Church, Pomegranate Place, and Woman Come Forth, three organizations that have been amazing supporters of Xylem and have wonderful ministries that serve families in the Denver area.

I still very much believe in the mission of Xylem “to restore the sacredness of family” and that every family has the ability to experience God’s desire for them.  I am not walking away from working with families and I would love to have you follow me on Facebook or on my blog www.parentingwhatipreach.wordpress.com (or on blogspot) to see where life takes me next.  Yes, I will still be writing!

We know that Xylem has meant a lot to many of you.  Please visit the Xylem Family Resource Facebook page in the next couple weeks and post any memories, photos, comments, etc.  I know it would mean a lot to me and to others who have invested into Xylem Family Resource.

Finally, I would like to particularly thank the following individuals who have been instrumental in the success of Xylem through their leadership:

Former Governing Board Members

Angela Seeling (cofounder)  Jeff and Brenda Wright  Vaun Swanson  Karen Stickland  Lori Mateer Geri Middleton Walsh  Jenna Bauer Debra Dreyer Jen Phillips Erin Armand Tim and Nina Sloan Asa Wood Faith Donaldson

Former Advisory Board Members:

Kathy McMillian  Tani Stone  Mark LaFleur

Thank you so very much for all of your support.  Blessings to you and your family!

Tara Wood, on behalf of the board

Executive Director, Xylem Family Resource

My kids and I can become a group of goof balls when left alone. It will start out innocently enough with singing Christmas carols at the top of our lungs and morph into seeing who can most creatively change the lyrics to one of the songs.

Today, we tackled “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer“. Here’s the result:

Jesus the Son of God

You know Joseph and Mary and Melchior and Jaspar,

Gabriel, the innkeeper, Caesar Augustus, and Belthasar

But to you recall? The most famous baby of all?
Jesus the Son of God
He was born on Christmas Night
And if you wanted to see him
Just follow the star so bright

All of the other kings
Didn’t want Jesus around
Poor little baby Jesus
Had to beat it out of town
(yes we know this part of the song is out of order. But it fit, and hey, we’re just having fun!)

Then upon a midnight clear
The angels came to say (LA LA LA)
In the city of David
A savior’s born this day!

Oh how the Shepards loved him
And they shouted out with glee (Yippee!)
Jesus the son of God
He was born for you and me!!!!!

We’re not quiting any day jobs. But I think we at least get credit for getting the names of all three wise men in there. =)

I think it’s so easy for my kids to want to ultimately share their candy with me because of how much I participate in the whole experience with them. From planning their costume, to taking them out trick-or-treating, to spreading out their candy with them at the end of the night to sort out their loot, to our debriefing of how the night went (who gave out the best candy, which was the scariest house, what fun costumes we saw)…we were in it together.

The truth is, good parenting gets you “Snickers Bars”, so-to-speak. When we take away our need to control, rule, and dominate our children and instead coach, teach, and participate in life with them, parenting our children is so much easier and sweeter.

“Come on Sami! Let’s go outside!” My 15-month-old daughter’s face lit up. She clumsily pulled her little body up and started to waddle away knowing I’d direct her toward the way out.

We stepped outside and the morning air smelled sweet. I closed my eyes and soaked in the feeling of the warm sun on my body. But Sami kept walking. I quickly opened my eyes, a bit disappointed that we were already on the move but looking forward to a fall morning walk through our neighborhood. Sami had other plans.

Samantha’s plans were to draw with chalk for a while. I was able to convince her to at least move into the sunny part of the driveway. I drew hearts while she put colorful chalk marks inside them. I was just settling into this change of plans when Sami got up and started to walk away toward the street. Maybe we’d be getting that walk in after all.

We got to the street where she grabbed my finger (her hand is still too little to hold my full hand) and the two of us began to walk down the street. Just on the other side of our property is a large pasture where often a herd of cows hang out so close to our house that we can walk right up to the fence and practically touch them. This is where I thought we’d walk to first. But Sami had other plans.

She pulled me the opposite direction and led me across the street to the culdesac. This would take us nowhere except around a circle and right back to where we started. But she was insistent. I decided it would at least be an easy place to set her free since there wouldn’t be as many, if any, cars to worry about. So off she waddled ahead of me down the street of the boring take-us-no-where culdesac.

We’d barely entered the culdesac when one of our neighbors walked out of her house preparing to take her dog for a walk. Samantha could hardly contain her excitement. A dog! Our neighbor came over to let Sami see the puppy. Sami got to “be gentle” and touch the dog while getting a big lick on the face in return. Samantha is facinated with dogs and acted as if this short visit from a furry friend was like winning the “Big Deal of the Day” on Let’s Make a Deal. When our neighbor moved on, we stood and watched until the dog was completely out of sight. Then Sami turned to continue on the route she had chosen.

We hadn’t even gone twenty feet when she discovered a pine cone in the middle of the road. We stopped as she picked it up, threw it, kicked it, picked it back up, dropped it, kicked it again, stared at it and then decided to moved on. We rounded the top of the culdesac now facing the direction we started from. Maybe now we could make our way back to the main street and go see if the cows were on our side of the pasture.

But Sami had other plans. In the gutter were small piles of red and gold leaves. Samantha started walking through them looking up at me every few steps with a broad grin that said, “Are you seeing this, Mom? They crunch and move under my feet!” We must have spent a good five minutes walking back and forth through the leaves talking about the sounds they made. And then she was off again. This time heading back to the gutter in front of our own house.

I followed her. In moments she was seated in the gutter rubbing her hands in the dirt and gravel. I sighed and sat down beside her. I looked up above me at the clear blue sky that seemed to want to suck me up into it. I wanted Sami to notice, too. So I interrupted her gutter exploration. “Sami, look up at the sky! Look! The sky is blue! Look at the blue sky, Sami!” She casually glanced up to where I was pointing and then went right back to focusing on the dirty mixture on the ground. She scooped up some of the gravely mixture and handed it to me, almost as if to say, “Yeah, but did you see THIS?”

I let her explore a few more minutes. And then I grew impatient. “Come on, Sweetie. Let’s go see the cows.” Samantha didn’t move. So, I scooped her up and carried her the short way down the street to the fence where there were…

no cows.

Sami looked up at me. She stared at me a minute (did I see pity on her face?) and gave me the sign for milk. Sigh. At least we were near home and not on the other side of the neighborhood.

I had plans of a wonderful fall walk around our neighborhood. To see animals, to look at the changing leaves and enjoy the beautiful sunshine. It wasn’t quite how I imagined it, but we DID do all of those things and more. And maybe Samantha knew that ultimately her way was better.
I wonder how often in life this is the case?

Last week Isabella got her first spelling list of the year sent home. Attached with the list was a nice letter from her teacher explaining how lists will be sent home and giving wonderful creative suggestions for how the kids could practice their words. Her first spelling test was going to be the following Wednesday.

She didn’t know where it was. She was sent to look for it, and after a lengthy search, announced she couldn’t find it. Isabella had a problem.

The problem was, she needed to study her spelling words that night and the next as was agreed to. She needed to study these words because she had a test on Wednesday with words that she didn’t quite know how to spell.

I looked at Isabella, stated to her the problem, and asked her how she was going to solve her problem. “I’ll get a new list tomorrow and bring it home to study,” she answered.

“OK,” I replied. “But how does that solve your problem of needing to study your words tonight?”

“I understand you don’t have your list. But your agreement with me was that you were to work on your spelling words tonight and tomorrow. How are you going to solve this problem? You need to study your words tonight.”

Then realization hit her. She knew I was being serious. Panic set in. On came the water works. The sobs. The protests. The “What am I supposed to do?”

Isabella will be eight next month. She’s a very bright girl. And because she has a mom who has focused on teaching her and her siblings skills on how to take ownership of and solve their own problems I know that she is capable of coming up with solutions for many of her second-grade-sized problems. And I knew that this was the perfect opportunity to show her that I believed this.

“I’m not going to solve this problem for you Isabella. You need to figure out how you’re going to solve it. I know you can do it because you are very good at solving problems.”

Because she was still sobbing at “the unfairness of it all”, I showed her the nice comfy chair in the living room that would be great for thinking, and told her to come find me when she had come up with some ideas.

Ten minutes went by as she just sat there crying. Then the crying turned to whimpers and for the next ten minutes she mumbled about how it was so unfair and how “I don’t have my list. What does she expect from me?” I even heard, “I’m just a kid. Why can’t she [I assumed she meant me] just let me not do it?” Gotta admit. That one made me laugh from the other room.

But, twenty minutes after I sent her to her thinking spot, she slowly walked up to me.

“Mom. I have an idea”

“Great, Isabella! What did you come up with?”

“I can use some of the words I have on the papers I brought home from school,” (these were worksheets that practiced a portion of the words in the classroom and had been graded and sent home on Friday) “and then I will ask Mrs. Lewis for the list again first thing in the morning and practice extra long tomorrow night.”

“I think that’s a great idea, Isabella. Good problem solving!” She gave me a big smile and turned around immediately to go find her worksheets.

Isabella was able to make a list consisting of about half her spelling words. We spent time working on those. This morning she let me know that she remembered that she was going to ask for the full list that day at school.

I could have solved the problem for her. I had actually thought of the same solution she came up with (although I forced myself to come up with three other ideas she could have picked just to make sure it was possible). I know we could have saved twenty minutes of crying and drama if I had just offered up that solution to her to begin with. But in the end, the twenty minutes was worth having Isabella take ownership of her own problem and coming up with its solution. It also taught her that I believe that she is capable of solving her problems and doesn’t need me to do it for her. That’s worth it to me.

Sometimes parenting takes extra effort up front. But teaching your children how to solve their own problems actually will save time in the long run because they won’t be constantly relying on you to do it for them. But maybe more importantly is the self-confidence and pride that develops from knowing that when bad situations happen, which of course they will, they can handle it. Problems won’t be as overwhelming. Life’s problems can be tackled and solved. Isn’t this what we all desire for our children?

My last post focused on allowing my children to grieve and how I was trying to help them through that process. However, eventually there is a time to help kids move beyond their sadness so they don’t get stuck there. That is what we have been working on this past week.

Overall, my kids have been trying really hard to make the most of our new situation. They’ve searched for new friends. They’ve endured long car rides in order to discover new places that we can take ownership of. They’ve developed a riding course for their scooters and have a secret play place they can ride their bikes to. And yet, they have still been struggling to accept that we live here now.

Whether it’s Nate praying at night for God to “please move us back to Denver right now,” Isabella getting off the bus in tears because it’s a beautiful sunny day and if we were back in Denver we would be playing on the playground with our best friends not coming strait home, or both of them pouting through a church service because “this is NOT our church” there are constant examples of how the two of them are so focused on what they’ve left back in Colorado that they are missing out on finding the joys that could be found here. In fact, Isabella told me that one of the girls who has been trying to be friends with her told Isabella on the bus that day she was crying over her old friends that she wished she had sat next to someone else who was more fun. Of course this hurt Isabella’s feelings and she used it to fuel her sadness for how much she misses Colorado. But in that little girl’s defense, who wants to sit by a girl wallowing in sadness, especially when you’re seven?

Yes, it is OK to miss our friends. It’s OK to miss the mountains and the restaurants we liked and the schools we went to. It’s OK to miss Grandma and Grandpa and the big tree in the front of our old house. But at some point we need to accept where we are. We think about the things we miss and find ways of filling up that spot with something new. We miss our friends, so we need to find new ones. We miss the mountains, so we need to discover the lakes and beautiful parks that are here. We miss the quick places to eat that were near our house. So we need to discover what those places could be here in Ohio. We recognize what we do have. A new house. A neighborhood with tons more kids in it. A pond. Buses to ride to school. New places to visit and discover.

Because we have two choices. We can be constantly sad about what we left behind or we can look forward to the life ahead of us and make the most of it. If we chose the former, people will respect our choice and allow us to be sad and give us plenty of room to wallow in our self pity. They will get the message loud and clear that they could never live up to our life back home and so they won’t even try. And we will be very lonely and even more sad.

But if we choose the latter there is hope and adventure. People will want to show us what they have to offer. And we can be happy here and still miss our life back in Denver.

It’s important for kids to be allowed to grieve. But we need to help them learn how to move beyond the grief at some point so they don’t miss out on what life has to offer them next. I know many adults who were never taught this. And admittedly, there are times I still struggle with this. Helping my kids through this process has been helpful to me as well. Grief is not overcome instantaneously. It takes time. But just like other areas of our life we have the opportunity to make choices regarding our behavior. We can choose to remain sad or we can choose to pursue happiness.

How does this same lesson apply for other examples of sadness or disappointment?

Which is why the hardest part of our move to Ohio has been the grief it has caused my children.

I think forever in my memory will be the day we told the kids we would be traveling to Cleveland to see if it could be a place we would be willing to live. The opportunity for my husband came quickly and without warning, especially to the kids. Originally there was silence and processing. There was disappointment and worry. But overall, it had gone better than I had expected.

A few hours later, I had taken the kids to swim lessons and was waiting out by the pool for Isabella to come out of the changing room. I looked up and saw my beautiful blond-haired blue-eyed girl running toward me, tears streaming down her face, choking back sobs. She threw her arms around me and began to cry.

My mind raced. Did she stub a toe? Did someone in the changing room say something mean? What, Isabella? What is it?

She could hardly spit out the words between her sobs.

I don’t want to move. Please don’t make us move.

My instinct in this moment was to immediately tell her it was going to be OK. I wanted to tell her not to cry. That this was going to be a fun adventure. I wanted to get her to focus on all of the positive the job promotion for Daddy was going to provide for our family. Essentially, I didn’t want her to hurt. I wanted to take away the pain.

But the truth is, my little girl was grieving. And she had every right to feel the things she was feeling. Because I was feeling them, too.

And so I held her tight. I didn’t say anything for a long time. I just let her cry and cry and cry and cry.

I listened as she told me how she didn’t want to leave her friends.

I know, Isabella. It will be very hard to leave them.

I listened as she said she would miss Grandma, and Grandpa, and Papa D and Pop Pop, because we won’t be able to see them whenever we want.

I know, Isabella. It will be hard to be so far away from the people we love so much.

I listened as she said she really wanted to go to her new school and be with her best friend.

Yes, Isabella. I know. I know.

I listened as she said she didn’t want to move far away to a place she didn’t know. She didn’t want to not know anybody and have to make new friends. Please Mommy. I don’t want to go!

I know, Isabella. I know. It will be hard. It is scary. We will miss our friends so so much. And it is OK to cry. It is OK to feel sad. It is OK to grieve.

As a mom, I want to take the pain away from my children. These past weeks I have wanted to take it away when my kids clung tightly to their best friends and cried and cried the night before we left. I wanted to take it away when my son told me before he went to sleep that he just wanted to go back to Colorado to be with his friend and that he was feeling “sad in his heart”. I wanted to take it away when my 14-month-old baby leaped out of my arms in effort to reach into the computer toward Grandma as we were Skyping and then scream and cry as I pulled her away from the screen so her older brother could have a turn talking.

I want to take it away. But I can’t.

There is a time to give hope. There is a time to give reassurance. There is a time move forward and focus on the new.

But I have learned through this immensely emotional time for my family, that there is a time for all of us, children included, to grieve. And that is important, too.

Dear friends,

It is with mixed emotions that I share some important news that affects my family and the future of Xylem.

About four weeks ago, my husband Asa was offered a position in Ohio.  Three weeks ago, his company flew our family out to the Cleveland area to get a feel for the area and determine whether or not we would be willing to take the position.  Two weeks ago my husband officially signed the contract for his new job.  It is all moving very quickly, and we will be moving to Cleveland next week so that he can start August 1.

This is an incredible opportunity for Asa for a variety of reasons and it was hard to pass it up.  However, it is with very heavy hearts that we are leaving everything we know here in Colorado including family, friends, our church community, and familiarity.  But we are also excited to see what God has in store for us in Ohio.

With the support of the Xylem board we have decided to bring Xylem with us.  This is actually a fairly simple process, in some ways easier than shutting the organization completely down.  We will be donating a large portion of the Xylem assets to a ministry here in Denver and bringing the rest with us.  The plan is to still be assessable to the many families we’ve worked with here in Colorado through Facebook, my blog and phone and e-mail consults.  Some of the families that have benefited from Xylem in other states, and even in other countries (England, Australia and Germany), should not be affected and can continue to benefit from the support Xylem offers.

Tim and Nina Sloan, who are current board members have been great this past year and will help make sure the transition is smooth.  They have provided amazing leadership this past year and have been supportive in making the decision to transfer Xylem to Ohio.  I am so grateful to have had them this past year and especially now during this time of transition.

You can read the formal announcement regarding the moving of Xylem from our board president Tim on the Xylem Facebook page.  This provides further answers to questions regarding how this decision was made and what it means for the future of Xylem.

Once in Ohio, I hope to do some speaking at MOPS groups and local churches in the Cleveland area within the next year, but will begin by primarily putting my focus on the social networking sites, my blog other writing opportunities that have presented themselves this year and working with families via phone and e-mail.  Xylem has developed a wonderful reputation the past six years and has gained a lot of credibility within the church community.  Through talking to many individuals, including those in Ohio, it was determined that keeping Xylem and its nonprofit status would be an asset in opening new opportunities in Ohio so that Xylem can continue the work of restoring the sacredness of family.

I have been truly blessed by my community in Denver and cannot even begin to express my sadness in having to say good-bye to the place I’ve called home for most of my life.  However, Colorado cannot get rid of me that easily.  We have family in Colorado, close friends, not to mention that Asa’s company is located here, so we will be back often to visit.

If you haven’t already, please become a fan of Xylem Family Resource on Facebook and follow me on my blog www.parentingwhatipreach.wordpress.com  (also on blogspot) to stay in touch on the adventures of Xylem.   And of course I will remain a regular presence on my personal Facebook page.

Please keep my family in your prayers as we begin this new adventure.  You will most definitely remain in ours.

Blessings!

Tara

When my first daughter was born, my husband wanted nothing more than to be a great dad. From day one he was committed to getting up in the middle of the night to help change diapers and hand the baby to me to feed. Then he would get up in the morning and drag himself to work only to come home nine hours later to change another diaper, help get something resembling dinner together and crawl into bed to begin the routine all over again. But he did it every night, never thinking his job was more important than mine. Committing to be exhausted. Committing to be involved.

 Day by day I was bonding more and more with my baby. But day by day my husband felt more and more detached from not only the baby but from me. He felt discouraged. This is not how he imagined it. Where was his connection to his daughter? Was this to be his role? Just the provider? The occasional assistant?

 And then one day I had a workshop I had to teach and was gone for over six hours. It was the longest my husband had spent alone with the baby. Just him and her. She cried. She didn’t want to drink from a bottle. It was stressful. It was hard. Yet it was the best thing that could have happened to both of them.

 You see, up until that day, I was the primary caretaker of our daughter. Because I spent most of the time with her during the day, I had discovered all the tricks for calming her down. I knew which blanket she liked best. I knew her favorite way to be held. And my daughter knew I knew this, so of course she wanted me over anyone else. When the job was simple, like changing a diaper, I let my husband step in. But if she was crying, I would take her. If she was tired, I got her to sleep. If she was fussy, I figured out why. Without intending to, I was making it hard for my husband to bond with his baby because I wasn’t allowing him to be a primary caretaker in her life.

 But on that particular day, I wasn’t around. My husband had to figure out his daughter on his own. He had to become the caretaker. And he did. When I came home, he had gotten her to fall asleep. He had learned ways of soothing her. He had found a position to hold her in that she seemed to like. He had discovered some of his own tricks.

 And you know what? Almost all of his tricks were not my tricks. He actually had ways of interacting with her that were different from what worked for me. To be honest, this bothered me. I’m sure I even said more than once, “That’s not how you do it. Here let me do it…”

 But I needed to make a decision. I could either do all of the parenting myself or have a partner in parenting. If I chose the former, everything would be done my way, but my kids would be robbed of the chance to have a deep bonded relationship with their father. I would most surely work myself into exhaustion doing all the important parenting myself. Perhaps, I would develop resentment toward my kids, and probably toward my husband, for this life burden I put on myself. This is not rare. I work with families all the time where this has become the case.

 On the other hand, choosing the latter would mean equally sharing the parenting responsibilities and have a untied front with our kids. But it would also mean letting go. It would mean that things might not always look exactly the way I want them too. It would mean sometimes letting the baby cry while my husband figured it out. It would mean not being the first to rush in and address a problem with the kids. It would mean accepting that my way is not always the best way, or at least not the only way.

 I chose the latter.

 Today, all three of my kids have an amazing relationship with their dad. My husband does everything he can to be with his family as much as possible because he wants to, not because he feels obligated to. The kids adore and respect him. He would do anything for his kids. They are SUPER bonded. More importantly, the kids view him and I equally knowing that we both have the same authority when it comes to parenting.

 It was, and continues to be, so worth it for me to have made this choice. The added bonus? I was able to see a side of my husband I would have never seen otherwise. And this has allowed me to fall deeper in love with him.