When she was going through cosmetology school she liked to experiment on me sometimes. Remember the infamous 90’s knots? Or Scary Spice Horns? I’m pretty sure we tried that one time.
But actually, of all the people on the planet, if I could fly her out here from Reno every time I needed a haircut/color, I totally would. She’s that good.
Apart from being incredibly talented in making you look like a million bucks, she’s also got a knack for decorating and crafting. In fact, she told me about this little craft project of hers and I knew I had to share it.
She watches her two grandkids which are roughly the same ages as my kids. Apparently, I’m not the only woman in the world who struggles with keeping her car not looking like a trash bin. She said she got fed up with it one day and this little idea came to her.
It’s genius. My kids love it. And just like she prophesied, they fight over who gets to use it. I just leave it on the back seat in the middle, between their carseats.
Another plus is that you can use it for wet and dry garbage. It’s easy to rinse out and I love that it has a little lid which fits perfectly. Since I hate the smell of fast food wrappers or half eaten hamburgers when we’re traveling, the lid helps minimize those odors. Score! If you have to change a dirty diaper and there’s no trash bin in sight, no problem. Stick it in here with the lid on (possibly put it in the trunk )
It’s a cinch to make. Lilliana and I made it in like 15 minutes. She passed me the washi tape while I stuck it on. Super simple!
Get your clean, metal can. We get these from our local food storage place with things like flour, sugar, beans, oats, rice, etc. Any big metal can would do.
Then you open it with a smooth edge can opener. This makes for a perfectly fit lid for your trash can. These can openers cut from the side instead of through the top. They are great to avoid sharp edges and allows you to take the top of the can off without contaminating anything inside. They’re a great little tool to have.
Step 2: Decorate
Now you get to decorate. Use whatever kind of tape you like. My aunt used some really cute duct tape and different kinds of washi tape. She said it was easier for her to start at the bottom and the top and work your way in towards the middle. Since my washi tapes were all the same width I started at the top and went down. Either way, just try not to overlap the tape. It tends to lift if you do. And don’t wrap any tape around the opening of your can or the edge of your lid. You want the metal to touch metal when you put the lid on in order for it to be a secure fit. If your tape drapes over the sides, just trim it with some scissors.
Step 3: Handle
You can rough up the tape a little in the middle of the lid and hot glue your drawer pull on to use as a handle. Roughing up the tape helps it stick. Mine still keeps falling off every time I drop the lid so I’m thinking about drilling a small hole and using the screw that went with the drawer pull to secure it on there.
Guys, that’s it. No more steps. You’re done.
Isn’t it fun?! And believe me, your car will stay cleaner. I just empty the little thing every couple of days and it’s awesome not to have to take armfuls of garbage to the trash bin.
Big thanks to my aunt for sharing her artistic and creative abilities with us. Love you Aunt Artie!
* * * * *
What is your biggest struggle when it comes to keeping your car clean?
I had to have the first sex talk with my son when he was 4.
Call it divine inspiration but we had just had a lesson that day in Sunday School about how to teach our kids about morality. Coincidentally, that night at the dinner table, my son said something that blew both me and my husband totally out of the water. We looked at each other, I said a silent prayer, and I said, “Misa, we need to talk about that but not at the dinner table. We’ll discuss it later ok?”
He could probably tell by the look on my face that I was horrified by what he had just told me. He kind of sunk down in his chair and I said, “It’s ok buddy, I know you don’t understand all about that stuff and it’s ok because you’re still little. We’ll talk about it later tonight ok?” He said, “Ok.”
After continually praying until “later” came, I finally sat down with him and explained a few things, obviously very basic. I tried to keep it at a 4-year-old level but really? Is there even a 4-year-old level when it comes to sex? From our little discussion I discovered a couple of things.
First, his friend who is barely a year older than him, is where a lot of this was coming from.
Second, it was reinforced by things that he passively saw on TV.
The reason I bring up this story is because I want to point out some differences in parenting trends over the years.
Recently I read a couple of blog posts about how parents are getting the raw end of the deal and how we are doing too much and worrying too much about our kids. While it’s a great read and I totally agree with most of the points, there are some things I want to point out.
If we compare how we parent to how we were parented, we can probably see a change in trends. Back in the day, even before my childhood days, children were to be seen and not heard. Most of them learned about life through the hard knocks and most of them turned out fine. Now our generation is being ripped apart because we’re all helicopter parents and we’re ruining our kids from becoming competent adults. We’re too soft and we shelter them too much.
I grew up with responsibility. I get it. This whole “entitlement” thing is definitely a problem. Helicopter parenting is definitely a problem. It’s kind of like we’ve swung from one side of the pendulum to the other. From letting our kids raise themselves to not allowing our kids to learn anything for themselves. The problem, I think, is in the extremes.
The truth is, we can’t allow our kids to roam the streets all day with no idea of where they are or what they’re doing. The world isn’t the same as it was 30 years ago. We can’t allow our TV to play constantly as background noise and not pay attention to what it is teaching our kids.
We can’t let our kids learn about sex from the media because I guarantee you, it will be a very warped version of it. Pornography and sex are everywhere. You don’t even have to look for it. If a 4-year-old, who was uncomfortably open with me, can be aroused by something as “innocent” as cable TV, then we have a problem folks.
So no, we can’t parent old school. You know why? Because our world isn’t old school anymore. We have to learn and adapt, sometimes by trial and error. And that’s a painful process.
I have this constant dilemma in my head about whether I’m doing enough or too much for my kids. Every situation is different and I try to be strategic about every teaching opportunity.
I’m still not cemented in my parenting approach because there absolutely is no “one size fits all” approach. Every situation is different, every season is different, and Heaven knows every child is completely different.
However, I have found something that has given me a little direction and just “feels right” when it comes to how I want to approach parenting.
He stood at the crossroads all alone, The sunlight in his face; He had no thought for an evil course, He was set for a manly race. But the road stretched east and the road stretched west, And he did not know which road was the best; So he took the wrong road and it lead him down, And he lost the ace and the victor’s crown. He was caught at last in an angry snare Because no one stood at the crossroads there To show him the better road.
Another day at the self-same place a boy with high hopes stood; He, too, was set for a manly race; he was seeking the things that were good. And one was there who the roads did know, And that one showed him the way to go; So he turned away from the road leading down, And he won the race and the victor’s crown; He walks today on the highways fair Because one stood at the crossroads there To show him a better road.
by Sadie Tiller Crawley
A leader in our congregation has shared this poem many times with us. He did it again a couple weeks ago and I saw it, for the first time, as it relates to parenting.
We don’t have to run the race with our kids. We don’t have to be there every step of the way, in fact, we can’t be. We don’t need to argue with the judge of the race if our child chooses the wrong path and loses.
But we certainly don’t have to sit at the finish line and just hope they make it there somehow. We can stand at those places where we know they might make the wrong choice, where maybe we made the wrong choice at some point in our life, and show them the better road. Then all we can do is hope they trust us enough to take it.
I vote for an involved style of parenting that still allows margin for our kids to grow. I vote for parents to be teachers. I vote for kids growing up with someone to guide them, not to do it for them, but also not to leave them alone to figure it all out for themselves.
My hope is that we can continue to evolve as parents and find a happy medium between doing everything for our kids and not doing anything.
Times have changed my friends. We are parenting in a world our parents never even imagined possible. Heck, we never even imagined possible. I thought sex talks were for pre-teens getting ready to go through puberty, not 4-year-old boys who still wear batman capes.
* * * * *
What is your opinion on the best approach to parenting?
I’m not going to lie when I tell you that I have my mother on a pedestal. We have been through a lot together, both good and bad, and she is literally the best friend I’ve ever had. I know not everyone can say that about their mother and I feel overly blessed that I can.
She has taught me more than any other single person in my life and I know it hasn’t been easy. Contrary to popular belief, I wasn’t always an angel. When people tell me about their difficult children, I feel like giving them my mom’s number. She needs to write the book on raising a strong-willed child.
Apart from channeling her strong-willed child’s determination into mostly positive outlets, she also taught me about service. My mother has never been across seas to do humanitarian work, she’s never opened her own non-profit or raised millions of dollars for a good cause. However, she has lived a life of consistent and selfless service to countless people and along the way, instilled that desire to serve in me.
Here are 5 lessons she has taught me, without hardly saying a word.
1. It doesn’t matter your circumstances, you can always serve
My mother has been single most of my life. She sometimes had to work 2 or 3 jobs to keep us fed and clothed and yet she was always serving in one way or another. She taught me from a very young age the importance of helping other people, no matter your own circumstances.
It’s so easy to get caught up in our own problems and lack of finances. Whenever I feel a desire to serve but the logic in my brain tells me I don’t have enough money or time to spare, I try to think of my mom and her shining example of not having enough and doing it anyway.
Since exiting her child-rearing years and becoming a little more financially stable, she has become even more generous. I often hear her say how she wishes she could help more, do more. Her personal goals have a lot to do with helping other people. Service is an attitude and she wears it every day.
2. Anonymous service is the best kind
One Christmas, when we were still in elementary school, my mom told my brother and me about a little boy who probably wasn’t going to get much for Christmas that year. I don’t remember the specifics of the story or his situation but I do remember he lived up the street from us.
I remember the excitement we felt as my brother and I carried a big box full of food and presents and a bike to their front door. It was Christmas Eve and it was dark and cold but we were bursting with emotion as we left the box and the bike, rang the doorbell, and ran through the slippery ice and snow to hide.
The amazement on the boy’s face was absolutely priceless and I remember we both cried when we saw how excited he was and how excited we were that we could help in such a small way.
All kinds of service are great but anonymous service is the most exciting because you get to keep a special secret. My mom provided many of these kinds of opportunities for us and still to this day, nothing gives me quite a rush like doing an anonymous service.
3. Giving service makes you appreciate receiving it more
My mom was always on the lookout for a family to help, especially at Christmastime. However, because of some tough times we had experienced as a family, and the fact that my mom was struggling so much to make it raising her kids alone, we were sometimes the benefactors of others’ service.
I will never forget the Christmas that we had during our short-lived move to Salt Lake City. We came from a small town to the big city in hopes to start over. I was in the second grade that year and by the end, I had been in 5 different classes. We moved a lot during those months.
My mom wasn’t used to all the extra expenses of living in the city and between daycare, high housing costs, and gas money to get from place to place, our finances were stretched to the absolute limit with no leeway at all.
One night, only a few days before Christmas, my mom snuck in my room of our small basement apartment. She woke me up and said, “You have to get up and come see what somebody brought us!” We ran into the kitchen and she showed me a beautiful basket full of gorgeous fruit. Then she pulled out an envelope, opened it, and immediately tears rolled down her face. She said it was money. Christmas money.
By that time, I was old enough to understand our situation. Christmas would have been very sad for us that year had it not been for some generous people who, hardly knowing us, had been moved upon by God to help. It wasn’t just the fact that Santa could come that year, it was the fact that we were not alone and that God was aware of our circumstances.
Because I had experience with helping people, I was so much more aware and sincerely grateful for the help we received. The experience has stuck with me my entire life. Other similar experiences have only fueled my fire to help even more.
4. Service isn’t only about Christmastime
Although many of the specific stories I am sharing had to do with Christmastime, that isn’t the only time my mother has served. She is the first one to raise her hand for almost any kind of volunteer opportunity.
If you come to her house in the evening, you will probably catch my mother crocheting. She rarely sits down but when she does, she is crocheting. Sometimes she makes dish rags and puts them in wedding gifts. She has been known to make gorgeous table cloths and baby blessing dresses. But she is famous for her baby blankets.
If you know my mom and have had a baby, you have most likely received one of her gorgeous baby blankets. She gives them to people she hardly knows.
She gives wedding presents to people she hardly knows. She’s always giving gifts. No matter where she goes, she’s bringing back gifts for everybody. My mother is truly the best gift-giver I’ve ever known.
She pays for people’s groceries at the store and their meals in restaurants. She gives to every fundraiser or good cause that comes her way. She puts her name on almost every sign-up sheet that comes around at church to offer meals or other support to people going through a difficult time.
My mother inspires me, everyday, to look harder for ways to help people and to make them feel loved and important. This is her super power.
5. Service is the best anecdote for getting through tough times
We knew the first Christmas we brought my brother home from the hospital was going to be difficult. His girls were still only 9 and 11 years old and Christmas would never be the same for them.
My mother was still adamant that we were going to help another family for Christmas. We picked some angels off the angel tree and went about buying small gifts, clothes and shoes to fit these kids.
Christmas morning brought a hilarious surprise when the people who delivered the angel tree presents came to our house to deliver gifts! Apparently someone had put my nieces and nephew on the angel tree. My sister said, “I’m afraid I picked my own son off the tree!”
Nothing could bring my brother completely back to us, like he was before, but turning our attention outward and looking to help other people made Christmas that year all the sweeter.
I know there are many women out there like my mom who sacrifice every day to help other people. I don’t know if my mom was aware of the impact she was making in my life when she performed these acts of service. I don’t know if she was even thinking of me with the intention of teaching a lesson. My suspicion is that she did it without thinking of the example she was providing for her kids. She did it because it felt right and she knew how much she appreciated help when she needed it.
These lessons on service also apply to my role as a mother. When I look back and see all the sacrifices she made for us, I am overwhelmed with gratitude. Motherhood is one big life of service. I learned from the best because she not only served us, she taught us how to serve others.
The Lord teaches that, “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.” What a beautiful thing to think about when it comes to a mother’s service. Happy Mother’s Day!
* * * * *
What did your mother teach you about service? How are you teaching your own children?
My kids love to bring me dandelions and there is no shortage of them in our yard. Despite the fact that they are ugly weeds, I always do my best to show my genuine gratitude that my kids are showing their love for me.
The other day, after a particularly plentiful dandelion gathering, I had probably 6 dandelions tucked behind my ears from both of my kids. We walked into the store and I saw an old guy friend from high school. I just smiled, waved and kept walking, totally ignoring the look on his face. It wasn’t until later, when a couple of the dandelions fell out that I even remembered they were there. I realized how ridiculous I must have looked to him with my wind-blown, sweaty hair filled with dandelions. And I promptly realized I didn’t care.
Becoming a mother has changed me in so many ways. I have become more assertive, more observant, and more grateful for tiny miracles. I have become less concerned with what people think of me and less critical of others. In short, I don’t care much for how the world sees me anymore. I care much more about how my children see me.
The dandelion incident is one of many where I was aware of how my children’s happiness and well-being was much more important than how anybody else saw me.
When my daughter was still a baby we were on vacation in Texas and went to the zoo in Houston with a friend and her son. My kids were not used to the 90 degree weather and 100% humidity. The poor kids were dripping wet the entire day and we quickly realized it was a huge mistake to think we could enjoy ourselves at the zoo in the middle of June with the rest of the sweaty population.
When my daughter became fussy because she was hungry I found a quiet spot, as away from the multitudes as I could find, and began nursing her with my nursing cover on. It only took a second for me to realize this was not going to work. I was almost delirious with the heat and she was practically suffocating under there! She kept trying to rip it off and I finally took it off myself.
I had never nursed in public without a cover and you know what, in that moment I didn’t care. I did my best to cover up what I could but feeding my daughter became a higher priority than what other people thought. I knew my husband was uncomfortable, my friend was uncomfortable, and there were several people who walked by and shook their heads. It seemed ironic to me that there were several girls wearing bikini tops walking around with just as much, if not more, breast showing as me but nobody seemed to notice.
Before I had children, I would never dream of showing any amount of my breasts in public. I’ve always been a very modest person and frankly a little judgmental about women who nursed in public. But this day, I realized that sometimes you have to compromise in order to be a good mother.
When I’m running through the Walmart parking lot like a crazy person with a cartful of kids yelling, “Faster mommy, faster!” I don’t even look up to see what people’s reactions are to my immature behavior. When someone makes a comment about how weird it is that I let my kids kiss me on my mouth, I turn a deaf ear. When my kids spill their fruit snacks on the floor at church and then pick them up and eat them, I don’t pay attention to the people who I know are silently criticizing me. It’s just not worth it.
Am I a perfect mother with no need of anyone else’s counsel or advice? Clearly not. Is it ok to let kids eat food off the filthy ground? Probably not. I’m trying to take this motherhood thing, which has turned out to be the most challenging role of my life, one day at a time. That means that I’m going to screw up. I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’m probably going to have to pay for my kids’ therapy one day to get over whatever I end up doing that screws them up emotionally.
Despite all my faults and screw-ups, I can honestly say that I love these little humans more than any other on this planet. The love I feel for them is unmatched and my desire to be a good mother for them runs deep. I hope they remember that I wore their dandelions in my hair with pride. And I do. In fact, sometimes I completely forget they’re there.
* * * * *
What are some of your experiences where you realized your children’s happiness was more important than how other people saw you?