Dear Mom: You MUST Let Them Fail Early🙏🏻💙

Difficult parenting moment of the year… Today, I attended the annual awards ceremony for My Girl, who is 13 and finishing up the 7th grade. She received an award for a piece of literature she submitted for a contest. And every year up to this point, she has received “A” Honor Roll certificates. Seeing the disappointment she felt (😢) when she realized that this year, she missed “A” Honor Roll by 1 point…in P.E.; she made an 89 for one six weeks was one of the toughest things I’ve witnessed.

I’m not a huge fan of grades that end in “9”. However, I am a fan of letting My Girl face real consequences (in this situation, of her “don’t want to’s” during a rough patch of the school year) of her actions. So…I let her feel what an 89 felt like, and today, she knew she was one point away from achieving all “A’s” for the year.

I am definitely going to give her the kudos she deserves though. She did manage to make all “A’s” in all other classes (4 pre-AP) for the entire year. She’s super smart, she’s wise and strong, and I see in her a great deal of leadership potential. I can now add determined (more so than before), as I can see her setting her sights on doing whatever it takes to avoid feeling the disappointment of being so close to achieving her personal best again.

So, I am sharing this experience to encourage all parents to LET YOUR KIDS MAKE MISTAKES, and make them when the effects are not life-altering. Let them know that you LOVE THEM NO MATTER WHAT, and that any mistakes they may make DO NOT change that!

I know it’s hard! I know you want to call that teacher and ask questions. But it’s so much better to learn these lessons when the stakes are not too great and the pressure is bearable. Sometimes, experience truly is the BEST Teacher! 💙🙏🏻

It’s Time to Put OUR KIDS first!

It starts with my daughter, she heard the news before I saw her.

Another school shooting…this one in Texas, so much closer.

The day had just started, kids barely settled in class.

The quiet that follows the bustling hallways through which they daily pass.

To hear them describe it brings about a palpable too familiar grief.

I can’t fathom how many were in shock, and utter disbelief.

As teachers, we show up each day because we believe in every one.

Giving all we have to guide them, help them find where they belong.

God, help us as we navigate the waters of these days.

There shouldn’t be so much fear attached to a learning place.

So many kids once sought safety not found at home in school.

But now, I wonder where they can go when their minds must be so full?

They know no different, can’t see it doesn’t have to be this way.

We must change the situation, and stop allowing the delay.

The future belongs to young people, and it’s our job to clear

The path for them to learn in peace, there’s no more room for fear.

I am a professional teacher, I give all I have each day.

To make sure the kids in my room know they matter, and help them find a way.

I show up again and do my part to support your most precious possessions.

I’m asking for your help; stop arguing and find solutions!

I know things happen, and some of them are out of our control.

But now, that excuse won’t work, we can’t afford the toll.

My calling is to empower and teach; I do not wish a weapon to wield.

I’ll never see a student as the enemy as long as I’m in this field.

So come together, make decisions; get equipment, whatever it takes.

Because we have business to do, lives to change, just do it for the kids’ sakes!

Be a Perennial

Freezing temperatures, hail, and sleet throughout a long winter (for Texas) couldn’t keep the beauty of this plant from returning. After feeling like life has dealt me a long winter, I am beyond grateful for the opportunity to bloom again.

Changing My Definition of Peace

I always thought peace was the absence of hardship. But because God performed a true miracle in my life, I know that peace can be found in the best and the worst situations we face.

As a small child, I was the apple of my Daddy’s eye. The pride he felt for being my Dad was palpable to all who were around us. He had my name tattooed on his arm, and later, when my parents divorced, he had an 11×14 portrait of me in the living room of his apartment. I had no question that I was the joy of his life.

Then, as time went on, his struggles with mental health issues, alcoholism, and PTSD (brought on by a childhood filled of chaos and his time in the Vietnam war as a helicopter door gunner) took a toll on him. I know he was involved in a world that was filled with darkness, but I’ve been spared the details by all who knew. He was so ashamed of the person he’d become that he couldn’t stand to let me see him. So, our relationship stretched thinner by the year until eventually, I would have to make many phone calls and find his address and just show up to see him. I missed his presence in my life, but could only muster up the courage to hunt him down about once a year. He didn’t know me, and I certainly didn’t know him. Even when my daughter was born, years later, it was a challenge to coordinate a meeting with him so he could see my greatest joy.

Life went on, and as a new Mother, I knew that there was no way he was consciously making the choice to miss out on my life. I chose to forgive him and pray for his soul, without knowing if we’d ever be able to reconcile. My greatest fear was that I would receive a phone call one day that he’d passed away, and that opportunity would never present itself.

In January 2015, the phone rang. It was my uncle telling me that my Daddy was in the hospital, and they thought he had a brain tumor. I gathered a bag, left my new husband and daughter, and headed to see the unknown. When I arrived, he smiled ear to ear with the same joy emanating from within that I’d known as a child. He was unshaven, dirty from falling in the dirt due to his condition, very sick, but completely cognizant. I knew then that God had opened a door that I could not have opened alone. As I drove home to prepare to stay with him in the hospital while we got more information, I clearly heard God say to me, “It is well.”

What ensued after was a journey from diagnosis of stage 4 lung cancer with a metastasis to the brain to a reconnection with loved ones who showed up with love and kindness. Because of the extent of the cancer and the weakness of his body, we chose to ask hospice to come in and provide him comfort as he left this world.

I never left his side longer than was required to shower, pack a new bag, and return, sleeping several nights in a zero-gravity lawn chair just to be near him, and at times, climbing in bed next to him just to feel what I’d missed for so many years. I rubbed his feet with lotion, wiped his face with a wash cloth, and was truly able to return the acts of love he’d shown me as a small child. My daughter and husband were able to meet my Daddy (the person I thought had disappeared many years ago) and I was beyond grateful to be able to witness and reconnect with his true spirit during those final days.

Eleven days later, he passed away peacefully. Red birds suddenly appeared everywhere I looked. It Is Well (With My Soul) of course, was one of the songs chosen for his funeral. To this day, when I hear that song or see a red bird, I am reminded of the true miracle that we were given as we spent my Daddy’s final days with him. The peace I am able to rekindle when I think about those tumultuous, yet beautiful days is truly that which “passes all understanding”.

So, when I created this blog, I chose the name “Peaceful Ahead” because my definition of peace is no longer the same. It does not mean that I will not face sadness, disappointment, or hardship. It means that I know that God has a plan, and that the miracles He presents are not always those we pray for or envision, yet they are exactly what we need when we need it most.

With that, I’d like to wish you all a day and life that’s truly peaceful ahead.

Instagram: @peacefulahead

staceyfade@peacefulahead.blog