Tag: #Parenting

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Why every kid needs their thing…

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

Lenten Reflections #36

From the Runonmom.com Lenten archives, here’s one of my personal Favorites…thanks for reading.

Today at work, I walked with a first grader to his classroom. The tousled-hair blonde with sweet, aqua eyes looked down at his untied sneakers and uttered, “I still don’t know how to tie my shoes…I mean, I just don’t have time, you know (dramatic pause) now that I play baseball.” He caught my eye to make sure I fully grasped the play ball part. I gave him an understanding, “I KNOOOW, you’ve got a lot to do!” response, and he gave me the kid nod that said, “Finally, someone gets it.”

Clearly, he was a busy guy. Way too busy to mess with shoestrings and all that tying. Baseball was his priority now, and talking about it made him beam. He wanted to share who he was, and by letting me know he was a baseball player, he was pleased with himself and satisfied that I heard it from him first.

We all need our thing

Something that drives us, that makes us jump out of bed and start the day with a spark. Does it define who we are? Maybe. It certainly tells more of our story.

And kids? Kids are constantly exploring. They also need to get out and experience success and failure, whether in an organized sport, class, or just playing with friends on the playground. Pray they seize opportunities to socialize, develop their identities, and discover what they love or don’t.

When I grew up, my sporting perspective was pretty narrow – it was soccer or soccer. As the fourth of four girls, you just follow the pack, and my sister, who is closest in age to me, was a soccer player; therefore, so was I. We had two practices a week, games on Saturdays, reversible uniforms, and our snacks were sliced oranges and water.

Nowadays, there are limitless choices for kids, from soccer to surfing, and mountain biking to martial arts. Practices sometimes end as late as 9:00 pm., and on some nights, dinners are eaten at different times while homework sits on the back burner simmering patiently. Justin and I feel like we are constantly driving somewhere, but we don’t complain because soon enough, the backseat will be empty, garage doors tightly shut, and there will be fewer shoes to trip over.

Naturally, over the years, our kids have dabbled in a lot to find out what makes them tick. In the process, we’ve had: acoustic guitars, bass guitars, ukeleles, soccer cleats, keyboards, lacrosse goals, baking tools, chorus, piano music, gymnastics, basketball high tops, hockey pucks, baseball gloves, frisbee golf goals, shuttlecocks, tennis rackets, catcher’s gear, football helmets, swim goggles, orienteering shoes, toe shoes, tap shoes, ballet shoes, running shoes, metal cleats, turf cleats, unicycles, mountain bikes, skateboards, Ripsticks, bows, arrows, quivers, fishing rods, dart boards, ping pong balls, and more I may have forgotten.

I am so grateful they have WANTED to try so many things, and I am happy we’ve been able to afford them the chance. They’ve settled on (but are not limited to) swimming, baseball, and mountain biking, plus cello, saxophone, and trumpet- a well-rounded crew.

Thank God.

Thank God they found something they care about and enjoy.

I know we’re busy, but as I say, it’s a good busy. It’s a time where we can relish in our children’s successes, see them win, lose, fall, get up, and be there just in case they need us or a Band-Aid.

What I learned:

Let them try. Let them fail. Let them know they have to give it more than a week. Tell them to power through the whole season because there is a team or group depending on them, and life is about teamwork and perseverance.

My first-grade friend, who is simply too busy to bother with tying his shoes, figured out what makes him happy, as all kids should. What a lucky guy.

UPDATE 2025: All of our kids are still playing sports in college and are very happy.

Here’s to Another Good Day!

Thanks for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

10 tips for taking care of our aging parents

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

Lenten Reflections #32

Caregiving is both a blessing and a challenge. Between my sisters and me, we manage our parents’ care. I’ve mentioned before that I live the furthest away, so I carry less of the load. Recently, I have been coming more on weekends to help out and have learned that just as I’m preparing to leave, I finally grasp the tips and tricks that make the day easier.

Things like:

  1. Be direct – Answer questions and don’t overexplain: the more complex the answer, the more confusion ensues.
  2. Give hope – Say yes to requests and ideas…if Mom thinks she’s going to recover the chairs in the kitchen, say YES, we can go to the fabric store.
  3. Stay calm – Calm begets calm
  4. Emphathize – Amid the moans and groans from aging and exhaustion from working outside, grab the heating pad, warm some tea, and use Aspercreme.
  5. Nourish – Never underestimate the power of Cheerios any time of day for Mom and a peanut butter sandwich for Dad.
  6. Go outside – Take a walk, sit in the shade, look up at the sky, and take notice.
  7. Laugh – Mom is amazing at laughing at herself, even if she puts her shirt on backwards or, this morning, her bra. She says, “You could write a story about this and call it Idiot’s Delight.”
  8. Let them – let them do as much as they can on their own. Independence is priceless.
  9. Love them – Remember you are still their child,d and they need your love even more than they need you to help put in their partials (teeth). Although both are very important.
  10. Listen – You’ve heard the stories a million times; let them tell it again.

What I learned:

I’m lucky to have my parents and my sisters, and I pray I have the same positivity as I grow older, even if I put my bra on backward someday.

Here’s to Another Good Day!

Thanks for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Bedtime + Kids = so many questions

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

40 Reflections – #30: 40 days of raw recollections during the Lenten Season

It is quiet at home tonight. Justin and the dogs are asleep, the Braves are on TV, and I thought back to the memorable, noisy nights when the kids were home. I looked back on a few older pieces I wrote and found this recollection of our unforgettable nightly routine:

I had a post started for today, but I was redirected physically and mentally toward what makes every day complete: my children.

Bedtime in our home has become a sacred time. It is when the day’s silly moments, most profound questions, and emotional tribulations bubble up. And I am always ready to listen.

When the kids were younger, there were questions following prayers. I would stand in the hallway like a professor at a podium and take all inquiries: “What are we doing tomorrow? Will it be cold? Should we play soccer or baseball first? When does the pool open? Can we make waffles in the morning?”

Then, there were the medical mysteries. Most days, our kids stay healthy, aside from a few ‘must-have’ Band Aids. But at bedtime — BAM! The ailments roll in after the final Amen. “My arm/leg/knee/head/elbow hurts!”

Their questions vary: “Who will I eat lunch with on the first day of school? Will the teacher understand if I didn’t annotate my bibliography? Why is there so much drama with girls? Will we travel for spring break? Can you pick me up early from school? Pleeeease?”

Then the recent doozies: “Why are kids being shot in their schools? Will that happen to us? Will I get in trouble if I walk out and protest against gun violence?” And…Sometimes, they simply give you the bitter truth and say, “I’m scared”.

What I learned:

I consider bedtime my prime listening opportunity because, quite frankly, I don’t have answers. Sure, I can console after a messy friendship issue and confirm the weather will be warm enough for shorts. However, when the questions are beyond comprehension, I kneel by their bedside one more time, and we say an extra prayer for lives lost, families broken, and those kids in the world who feel so terribly alone.

What I continue to learn:

Always take the time to listen to your children and those you love. They are reaching out for a reason.

Here’s to Another Good Day!

Thanks for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Writing is weighty

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

Lenten Reflections #21

For me, openly sharing my thoughts in a public forum is weighty. Perhaps it is because I hear my mom’s voice telling me and my sisters, “Be careful what you write down…followed by “and always pay your debts.” The former is what I hear when blogging, and the latter rings in my ears the rest of the day. Respecting Mom’s words, I take heed and trudge forward.

When I began sharing my writing with whomever would read it, I was conscious of the vulnerability clinging to every word. I knew it was a powerful way to connect with others, so I kept writing.

Then, while at my son’s baseball game a few years ago, I thought about this vulnerability and how it plays a sneaky James Bond role in all of our lives.

That sunny day, I sat next to a mom whose son was called up to pitch. As he stepped onto the mound, she turned to the parents in the stands and affirmed in her outside voice, “My son has only pitched ONCE IN HIS LIFE, so I don’t know what’s going to happen!”  I assured her we would not judge her or her son. Plus, now we knew he was hers, so we were bound to keep it positive. She continued as most parents would, by hollering, “Just have fun out there, son, and smile!!!” Roughly translated: don’t get hurt, and please, for the love of all that is holy, throw strikes. (Thankfully, there’s an unheralded empathy for parents who watch their child stand in any goal or dig their cleats into the rubber on a pitcher’s mound. Every parent inherently knows to cheer them on (the kids and the parents).

To be honest, when I started blogging, I kind of wanted my mom to also stand up and yell to the world,

“My daughter has only blogged ONCE IN HER LIFE, so I don’t know what is going to happen!”

She didn’t yell it, but she did encourage me to continue writing stories…and to pay off any debts “even if it is only a nickel!”

What I learned:

“Write straight into the emotional center of things. Write toward vulnerability. Risk being unliked.”  – Anne Lamott

Here’s to Another Good Day!

Thanks for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Do we get do-overs for our bad reactions?

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

Lenten Reflections #16

CBS News had a story about a girls’ high school basketball coach in Northville, NY this evening. During their last game, the coach who appeared angry at the time, reached out and yanked the ponytail of one of his best players who was visibly sad about their loss. Following this he appeared “to berate her following an emotional loss” at which point another teammate stood up to the coach, in support of the girl.

The school district fired the coach. The regretful coach said he apologized and wished he had those moments to do over again.

I thought about this horrible situation and wondered why we have knee-jerk reactions like the NY coach did, and how we can control our responses. Here are five tips on how to react without a ponytail tug:

  1. Know your triggers – listen to your emotions and know what makes you nuts
  2. Don’t be too judgy – once we make judgments, these become permanent triggers – uh oh
  3. Understand your emotions – know yourself, will you fight, flee, or freeze?
  4. Avoid emotion suppression – this is super unhealthy…embrace your feelings
  5. Make plans NOT TO REACT – be positive and respond with good intentions and respect

What I learned:

As I read further about this NY coach, I discovered his son was also a girls’ basketball coach, the player who defended her teammate was the coach’s great-niece, his wife had died from cancer the previous season, and the reason he started coaching again after his retirement was that his wife thought it would be good to keep him occupied during her illness.

Was he wrong? Yes. Did his emotions dictate his reactions? Yes. Did he regret it? Yes. Have we all been in similar situations? Yes.

Does he get a do-over? Nope.

Did the girl deserve it? ABSOLUTELY NOT.

Emotions are drivers to our reactions. My initial reaction to reading this story was anger which turned to saddness and then compassion. I’ll pray for all of them.

Here’s to Another Good Day, especially since the Pope was released from the hospital.

Thanks for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

One Mom’s March Madness

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

Lenten Reflections #15 – Motherhood — the moments, the madness, the profound joy, the heart-breaking sorrows

A few years ago, on a Friday night, we went to a local pizza place, sat in our regular booth, chatted, and stared up at the outdated TVs, watching any team play basketball. It was March Madness, and with so many teams playing, the stakes and drama were high—it was truly a basketball binge-watching dream for fans.

That night, I watched the teenage workers pace back and forth delivering pizzas to booths, clearing tables, and refilling their clear cups with colorful flavors at the soda fountain machine. I saw a new employee stop and stare at one of the screens, riveted. I looked up. Wrestling? What? I hadn’t seen wrestling since high school…and on a March Madness night? It turned out it wasn’t just any match, it was the Division 1 Wrestling championships, and Iowa’s three-time national champion, Spencer Lee, was in the depths of competing for a chance at a possible fourth straight title. In the end, however, Lee lost the semi-finals to Matt Ramos from Purdue, cementing one of the most historical upsets in D1 wrestling.

Why did it matter to me? Spencer’s mom…

As notable as the loss, Spencer Lee’s mom was shown reacting to her son’s defeat. As soon as the referee lifted the winner’s arm (which was NOT attached to her son), Lee’s mom tore her glasses off her face and smashed them in her hands, not one, not two, but three times, hurling them to the floor.

Now that’s mad! Mad at the ref? The opponent? Her son?

Or is it passion? Or sadness? Or frustration?

My mind reeled. Sometimes as parents, we are overly invested emotionally and financially in our children’s activities, sports, and school progress. That is to say, we may fail to recall who is swinging the bat, writing the essay, swimming the mile, and solving the equation. Hint: It’s not us…something I forget quite often. Our (sometimes unreasonable) expectations of what our kids can and should do are crystal clear in our minds: run faster, pitch harder, and study smarter. Easy for us to say.

Is it the “happiness” we want for our kids?

The joy of winning the race or getting into their number one college? I suppose the accomplishment is kinda like a Prime package at our doorstep where underneath the bubble wrap sits all the justification you need for your investment of time, money, and heartache. Of course until the next thing and the next.

Perhaps, as parents, we conflate passion and perfectionism.

Let’s face it, seeking perfection is a fool’s errand. We are all messy and cluttered and muddling through the days. Maybe the lesson here is that sometimes other kids are going to do a lot better than our own kids on the field or in the classroom. Sounds like real life doesn’t it?

I recently read about Esther Wojcicki, author of “How to Raise Successful People”. She is best known as the “Silicon Valley’s godmother” and mom to three very successful daughters: Susan, the former CEO of YouTube, Anne, co-founder and CEO of 23andMe, and Janet, a professor at UC San Francisco. By implementing her parenting philosophy, which Esther refers to as TRICK: trust, respect, independence, collaboration, and kindness, she feels she was able to raise capable, successful children. As far as being a parent, Wojcicki suggests focusing on your behavior. She says, “Parenting gives us perhaps the most profound opportunity to grow as human beings.”

What I learned this week:

Real life is all I know. Real joy, real feelings, real pain. Sundays I sit at church and gaze at the Stations of the Cross on the walls, and I see our own journeys to Calvary. Falling some days, getting up the next. Being carried and lifted, scorned and loved. Some days we need to carry each other on the path. Mr. Rogers’ mother used to tell him in times of tragedy, Grace will always show up in the helpers. Be the helper. Be there for the mom who hurls her glasses, the kid who misses the fly ball, and your own child who needs your presence, not your commentary. Not today anyway.

Here’s to Another Good Day!

Thanks for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

What lies under our piles of worry?

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

(Spoiler Alert: It’s Love)

40 Reflections – #11:  40 days of raw recollections during the Lenten Season

Lately, I’ve been worrying about stuff. Mom stuff, kid stuff, work stuff, parent stuff. As a cock-eyed optimist, I try to focus on only worrying about 8-10 things at once. It’s not easy when my mind spins like a kid on a Ferris wheel who just ate 3 funnel cakes. A little joyful a little nauseous. I worry about retirement, Medicaid, cholesterol, my parents, taxes, heaven, hell, you name it. A new worry is what if it’s my time to go and God is in a cranky mood and brings up that trigonometry test I may or may not have cheated on and still got a C?

At work, first graders are constantly worried about equal turns, cheating, and name-calling and think if they holler “It’s not fair!” all things will go their way. Maybe if we voiced our qualms like kids and yelled our fears into a megaphone the world would nod aggressively in agreement, give a thumbs up, and you’ll say “Aha! I knew I wasn’t alone!”

What I learned:

Worries are valid, but after all the worrying, you move forward, listen to John Lennon sing about everything being okay in the end, take one step, then another, and breathe. You slow down.

You find that when the wall of worry falls brick by brick, underneath it all sat love waiting patiently…and you saved it from being smothered.

Ending with a favorite…

Love is patient, love is kind. It is not jealous, is not pompous,
it is not inflated, it is not rude, it does not seek its own
interests, it is not quick-tempered, it does not brood
over injury, it does not rejoice over wrongdoing but
rejoices with the truth.
It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things,
endures all things.
Love never fails.
1 Corinthians 12:31-13:8a

Here’s to Another Good Day.

Thanks for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Angels Among Us

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

#9 – Lenten Reflections – 40 Raw reflections during the Lenten Season

A few weeks ago I went to visit my parents. I’m the youngest of four girls and my parents, now 86 and 89 require more caretaking these days. Before I left, I let my students know I was going for a few days to take care of my parents. As always, I tried to weave a life lesson into why I needed to go. I excel in overexplaining.

I began, “You see your parents take care of you now and then someday when they get older, you’ll take care of them. Also, my mom is having cataract surgery.” Suddenly there were a few connections to the word surgery. “Ohhhh…my mom had surgery on her knee!”

“My dog had special surgery too! Wait, what is surgery?”

“Can we play the chair game or do a scavenger hunt?”

The subject change sounded a lot like my own children’s strategy. Abort! Eject! Way too much information. I lost them in the life lesson.

Maybe some of the first graders were listening…either way, they knew where I’d be out for a few days. I’m sure they jotted it on their Google calendars. Ha.

After my return to school, class began like any other Monday. First grade came in bustling, loud, and joyful. As the kids took off their jackets and found their spots on the rug, Reagan, a bright-eyed girl, strode over, looked directly at me, and asked, “How are your parents?”

Tears welled up in my eyes. I was floored by her sincerity. I hugged her, thanked her, and told her they were doing well. They are just older. But I’m so lucky to have them. “Oh good,” she said. I spoke to her like I would an old confidant. One of those gem friends where you can pick up right where you left off. An angel with a high ponytail wearing a plaid skirt and a blue polo shirt.

Reagan skipped off, plopped down on the carpet and immediately reached over to the friend next to her and began tying his shoes for him. Another boy chimed in, “She ties mine too. I mean my dad is trying to teach me at home but Reagan ties mine here.”

I shook my head and thought, wow…this six-year-old has more love in her heart than I’ve witnessed in years. Thank God for the Reagans in the world.

What I learned:

Some people, no matter their age see a great need. They load up bottles of water in their cars and hand them to the thirsty, one soul at a time.

They start small. Maybe check on a friend, listen to someone’s story, tie a shoe.

Simple gifts are empathy. Simple gifts are healing. Simple gifts mean never leaving anyone out. Jesus didn’t. Even Judas got a place at the table.

Here’s to another good day. Please pray for a quick recovery for the Pope.

Thank you for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Parenting Connections – Why is bonding so beneficial?

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

40 Reflections – #3:  40 days of raw recollections during the Lenten Season

When our children were younger, I would accompany them to birthday parties, playdates, practices, and other events and watch, wait, and chat with other parents. I loved connecting, it was like I would imagine the old Eharmony but for parents. A time to find your tribe of trusted moms and dads, then ever-so-carefully pick a few who relate to your cheeky humor, and pray your kids and theirs are in the next room bonding over a juice box.

As our kids aged, I noticed parents would leave these events, and return at the “pick-up time”.  I always opted to stay, plopping down on the ground, cherishing my chats with the few other parents who would sit in their comfy cup-holding canvas chairs (such a great invention).  Sure, sometimes, I was the mom who brought a book that other parents respectfully knew meant – whoever holds the book has just put themselves in a quiet, parental time out, a virtual “do not disturb sign”. That was rare. I needed to chat, commiserate about the losses, and celebrate the wins.

As the kids got a little older there was another shift. Either I grew more confident (or less patient waiting) and would go for a run while they practiced. As long as I was within a mom’s stone’s throw between them, I felt I could still get to them and perform CPR as needed. Of course, I was always happy to get in a run, but I missed the parent-share conversations… those words exchanged between parents that only the gap of time when our children are engaged with their friends allowed.

One night, all three of our children had events simultaneously, and a tough moment ensued.  Clearly, we had to pick our least favorite child, leave them at their designated practice, and accompany the others.

Kidding. Our eldest was the default, and since some nights I was the lone mom hanging out for the two hours at swim practice anyway, I figured she’d be okay while I took our son to baseball practice. As I drove away, of course thinking the worst, it was one of the few times I was grateful our daughter had a phone. Plus, at baseball, there were other helicopter parents like myself to share best practices, a clear bonus. It all worked out.

What I learned:

Our children’s activities, whether we realize it or not, give us a chance to pause and discover we are not the only ones bouncing around blindly in this parenting pinball game. While our kids solidify their friendships at birthday parties or discover they truly despise dancing in toe shoes (my daughter), we are given the gift of connection to share our stories with other parents and listen to theirs.

Back then, I remembered feeling the weight of parenting lightened knowing I wasn’t the only parent who…

  • yelled at my children and regretted it profoundly seconds after
  • colored my gray roots at home out of a box
  • cursed at Siri when she doesn’t listen
  • never checked pockets before doing laundry
  • considered cereal dinner
  • took apart the washing machine, found the penny bonking around, and ended up with extra screws when reassembling
  • stayed up way too late listening to our children’s worries that only bubbled up at bedtime
  • wiped the tears from our children’s eyes, and our own when their hearts were broken
  • prayed our children would find their best friend
  • forgot to pick up their child at school/practice/Sunday School
  • delivered their child’s forgotten homework to school
  • bought bras at Costco (“one size fits most”)
  • panicked about working after years of staying home with the kids
  • clutched onto their children –  as someone who is way too young died in a car accident, from a health complication, or God forbid — inside their school.

Our children are now all in college, but the bonds with those parents from the little league field, mountain biking trails, pool, and dance studio have stayed strong. Simply allowing ourselves to be transparent, and investing in relationships makes us better parents. It takes pluck to be vulnerable, but there is courage in the imperfect, strength in sharing, and certainty in the uncertain.

Dig Deep:  Time your run (or walk briskly), then challenge yourself to do the same thing faster tomorrow.

Lenten Challenge:  “Give feet to your faith”. Feed the hungry, pray for the sick, and share your grace with everyone who crosses your path.

Pope Health Update: VATICAN CITY, March 7 (Reuters) – Three weeks to the day after being admitted to Rome’s Gemelli hospital, Pope Francis is still struggling to shake off the double pneumonia that has battered his already fragile health.

Please pray for the Pope.

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

“There’s some really bad parenting going on…”

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

#32 Lenten Reflections

A friend told me a story about her daughter coming home from college for Thanksgiving one year. She said upon her return, she noticed her daughter must have been taking some sort of psychology class as she was constantly “observing” her two younger siblings and how they interacted with their parents. Using her newly gained college acumen, she approached her mom and said, “There’s some really bad parenting going on here.” Ouch.

After hearing this, I thought of some of my not-so-stellar mom moments and a few not-so-bad moments mixed in…

The moment you realize…you’re at the shoe store and your child’s feet are a size 6 and they are wearing a size 3. Oops and Ouch.

The moment you realize…you washed your favorite shirt in a load of rags and now you’re cleaning the bathroom floor with it.

The moment you realize…you told your child (a little too loudly) not to “hold going to the bathroom” at a sleepover because he “WILL get a stomach ache”.

The moment you realize…you’ve just remade every bed in your home even though they were already “made” by your children.

The moment you realize…your parents were right when they said to always live within your means.

The moment you realize…your daughter has grown two inches, you’ve already hemmed her orchestra dress, and the concert is tonight.

The moment you realize…your parents were pretty cool to show up to every game, concert, 4-H event and so much more.

The moment you realize…you’re singing along loudly to the School House Rock CD in the car and no kids are present.

The moment you realize…your child has holes in his socks and he’s figured out the fold-and-tuck method to make them work.

The moment you realize…your child says, “Now that I’m in 3rd grade, can I call you Mom instead of Mama?” and you say “Um, No.”

The moment you realize…you are price matching at Publix.

The moment you realize…you’re at the orthodontist so often you get irritated when another parent is sitting in your seat. Rude.

The moment you realize…you won’t leave the house without a coupon.

The moment you realize…you want to make change for a $20 bill in the collection basket at church.

The moment you realize…you just yelled “Don’t forget to say your prayers!!” to your 7th grader who is standing at the bus stop with 10 other kids.

Perfection is overrated.

Spiritual Journey of the day – embrace all your imperfections.

Thanks for joining me,

❤️Lucretia