Wildflower Writes

Yes, I said Joy in Snow. I don't mean watching little "snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes." I mean snow. Snow that dumps in piles and on sidewalks and driveways and streets and icy winds that cut through my heaviest coats. Snow. It's not just that I intensely dislike cold weather. Snow is scary when I have to drive somewhere and the road is slick and I can't see well (partly because I refuse to take the time to clear off my car). Snow is tedious when I have to put on shoes just to take the garbage out. Snow is a pain when I spend an hour shoveling it only to look out the window the next morning to see no evidence of aforesaid shoveling. There are chores, situations, relationships, etc., that seem tedious and overwhelming. No matter how much snow I shovel, or laundry I launder, or dishes I clean, or worksheets I copy, or blogs I write... there's always more to be done. I get frustrated because I have so many new and creative things I want to tr...

The following is a guest blog by my dad, Dallas Johnston: I’m no expert. I never read Parents Magazines. And my nature is to be short on patience and, at times, a fairly quick temper. But, I’ve always felt that most of parenting is “Common Sense”, which in general, is my forte. More important, I’ve felt from day one of becoming a Dad, that being a good parent is probably the most important thing I’ll do in my lifetime. Everyone is limited to the amount of impact they can have on the world, but your kids and their kids for generations to come can have a huge impact to make the world a better place. Become a working partner with Mom .. I learned this one from my parents. When one of you has “had it up to here”, the other needs to become stronger. When one of you loses their temper, the other needs to be the one to soften things up. There should be times when you can casually talk to each other about your kids. Take advantage of the opportunity to work as a team. Enjoy all the phases of ...

Sometimes I worry about what kind of mom I am. I don’t spend inordinate amounts of time with my children. Sometimes I yell at them. Sometimes I say things I shouldn’t about people or situations that frustrate me. Sometimes I forget to keep up with their papers, projects, and events from school and activities. Sometimes I shut myself up in my room for some alone time. When it comes down to it, I am largely responsible, along with my husband, for the kind of people my children become. By helping support their interests and abilities as they grow, we give them tools to become what they are created to be. By instructing and disciplining, we teach them what is and is not appropriate in the social arena. It’s more than turning my children into responsible citizens, however. Whether I like it or not, their view of the world is colored by their interaction with me. When I show them affection, they feel how great it is to be loved. When I laugh with them, they learn how to find joy. ...

I picked up an oldie but a goodie this week: “Boundaries” by Henry Cloud and John Townsend. I like to be inside people’s heads anyway, but to see how so many conflicts and emotional trauma could be avoided by the simple concept of boundaries is astounding. I am what the good authors would call “compliant.” I have trouble saying the word “no.” It’s a perfectly good word, useful in many situations, but for some reason it’s hard for me. I don’t want to make waves; I don’t want to let anyone down. I want to do the right thing; I want to help people. Did you know that it’s okay to say “no” if you don’t want to do something? I didn’t. I thought feeling guilty was an acceptable reason to say yes, even if I didn’t have the desire or the time to do it. For some strange reason, living by everyone else’s agenda leaves me a little hollow, and a little resentful. Yet bad feelings is what I’ve tried to avoid. I don’t want other people to think I’m selfish. I want to avoid the potential c...

It’s quiet. My entire family fell asleep within minutes of hitting their pillows. I guess five hours of water play, a sophisticated scavenger hunt, animatronic story-time, and a full-length movie will do that to you. Why is it when you just start getting into the groove of vacation- do what you want, when you want, all at a leisurely pace- you have to pack up and look forward to the next break? When I went on vacation as a kid, there were not many choices. Dad decided when we were leaving, and Mom decided what we could pack. On the way, it didn’t matter if you were hot, hungry, thirsty, or your bladder was ready to explode, we would stop when Dad was ready, which usually meant when the gas tank was near empty. Once we arrived, we weren’t able to go anywhere without adult supervision. Our parents determined when and where we would eat and shop. I am not complaining about our vacations. Our beach vacations were some of the best memories of my childhood. My husband and I have just chosen ...

I have come to the conclusion that I am a human being. It may seem strange to that after 30+ years I am finally figuring this out. But I am no ordinary human being. I have lived under the presumption, inoculated in me at an early age, that I can do anything that I put my mind to. Which, over time, I’ve taken to mean that I can sleep less, eat less, exercise less, and communicate less than the average human being. I can take on school, work, family, and thirteen volunteer positions, without batting an eye. I am Super Mom! I am also bleary-eyed, overweight, moody, stressed-out and overwhelmed. One might suggest the word, “balance.” Balance seems a lot like trying to walk a tightrope. I’m pretty sure I can’t do it, so why try? Yet, I’m not sure I enjoy living like this. I have to drag myself out of bed, guzzle coffee out of necessity rather than enjoyment, bark at my children to get ready and at my husband to stay out of my way. I dread work (like most red-blooded Americans) but ...

As a child, I remember fighting with my siblings to get my fair share. In those times, one of my father’s favorite sayings was “It’s not all about you.” While often said with force and intended to end the argument, the underlying message remains. Life is not about self or what you want or what makes you happy. Life is infinitely richer than the narrow framework of self. It involves interacting with and caring for other people. At the early stages of a child’s life, the parents make a choice to pander to every felt need of that child, or at some point communicate to him that parents are people too. When a toddler is told “no” he begins to realize he is not the center of the universe and is not entitled to have all his desires met. He learns some actions are unsafe and others are not kind. Compassion is also taught in parental response to their children in times of pain, sadness, or fear. An attentive parent learns to distinguish the types of cries. A child needs to know that her parent...

When you think of the word predictable as it describes a person, do you think of dull, boring, repetitive… yawn! I always have too. But I was listening to this radio preacher talking about Daniel the other day. Now Danny-Boy was as predictable as you get. Three times a day, facing Jerusalem, he prayed to God. No matter what temptation, even at the threat of death, he did the right thing. So it was easy for a few hoity toity officials to “trap” him into defying the edict of the King. They knew Daniel would be out on the roof, morning, noon, and night, praying to God. Predictable. Daniel’s life was far from boring, however. Whisked away as a teenager to serve in the court of a foreign king, raised up to a position of prestige, and now, charged with treason for doing the same thing he had done every day of his life: pray. Do you wonder what he felt when he was caught? Did he wonder what it felt like to be ripped apart by hungry lions? Did he feel a sense of betrayal, ...