Category Archives: Parenting

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Not So Great Expectations

How do you deal with others’ expectations?  I know that some people are better at meeting expectations when there is a threat of shame. Not me. I would rather run away. Put pressure on me and I avoid you and your task. Ugh. Not the most healthy option…

So I have to think of other ways to deal with expectations. This week my post is an article I wrote for Her View From Home. In it I explain how I’ve learned to deal with expectations. It’s not about people pleasing and it’s not about running away. I hope you’ll take a minute and click to read more here:

When You Feel Trapped… Andrea Joy Wenburg at Her View From Home

Deeply,

AJ

Photo by Amelia Wenburg

Photo by Amelia Wenburg

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Keep Calm: We’re All Fragile

Teachers, you never know what words will ring in your students’ minds for life. I was a music education student at the University of Nebraska-Kearney in 2000. Though I don’t recall the title of the class, I vividly remember the day Dr. S nailed us to the wall. We were discussing leadership principles and classroom management when the hammer came out.

“Don’t you EVER yell at a kid for your poor classroom management.”

After peeling myself off the back of the band room wall I sat taller and more intent on taking responsibility for being proactive and giving students tangible ways to stay on task rather than blaming their behavior for my own lack of direction.

I Still Remember

Keep Calm
The command follows me around as a parent.There are moments when it all goes well – when everyone is happy and learning and getting along. I love feeling like I’m one step ahead of the kids. But sometimes I’m three steps behind them and I feel horrible. Sometimes I heave big sighs and pull my hair because of how they are acting. And (believe it or not) sometimes I yell at them for my own poor “classroom management.”

I find it difficult to balance the parent-guilt with the child-blaming.

Who is at fault for this behavior right now? Why am I getting so upset? Would someone else please come manage this classroom?!

One thing I have figured out is that sometimes my kids need help calming down. I wrote about this in a Her View From Home article recently. (Click here to view the article.) It’s not always easy for me to calm myself down, so why would I expect my children to calm themselves down in the midst of a tantrum? I think that “classroom management” in this setting looks a lot like a calm mom calming her children and informing them of the consequences of their inappropriate actions later, when everyone is at peace.

Man, is staying calm exhausting! But I definitely notice that when I make threats and allow my intensity to rise, it makes the situation more volatile. And none of us need that.

Keep On Keepin’ On

It’s not easy to write about this kind of thing. I hear my own declarations ring in my ears every time I get upset. I want more for our kids. I want more for their parents. I want to set up the classroom of our home in such a way that our anxiety runs low and our passion runs high.

It takes an enormous amount of time, energy and determination to manage a home with kids. And we all do it differently. So to the parents out there, here’s your virtual hug from me. Keep on keepin’ on. I know it’s exhausting. I know we mess up. And I know we all need to be gentle with ourselves and our kids. Let’s manage our homes with calm hearts. 

For more information about how to manage intense kiddos, check out Kirk Martin’s website Celebrate Calm (click here) or follow Celebrate Calm on Facebook. I’m a fan. 🙂

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When I Feel Tossed By The Morning Winds

5 proactive ideas to start the day

What goes through your mind when you wake up in the morning? Do you jump out of bed, ready to hit the day or do you roll over and hit the snooze button instead? Perhaps you are like me and set the alarm for as late as possible.

My kids have been my alarm for a very long time. I know, I know. It’s in the top 10 list of the worst things I can do as a mom. But seriously, if I wanted to get up before them I would be up at 5:00 a.m. When my son was a toddler, it would have been 3:30. No, thank you! Surely, you can understand why this night owl mom doesn’t set an alarm. I steal every last minute of morning-shut-eye I can get.

Survival Became Normal

Photo by Laura Bernero https://laurabernero.wordpress.com

Photo by Laura Bernero
https://laurabernero.wordpress.com

For over six years, I haven’t had to set an alarm. Unfortunately, that means my peaceful sleep is often interrupted by tears, barking or fighting. I throw the pillow over my head until the interruption moves into my bedroom, and then finally get up. I am thrust into chaos then struggle to survive until hitting the pillow again at night. It’s awfully difficult to feel purposeful in life when it’s all you can do to survive your physical, emotional and spiritual fatigue. And for a long time I couldn’t do much about it.

But somewhere along the way my morning routine became less of a necessity and more…normal. I just assumed that I would be tired and unmotivated all day. My problem turned into an attitude choice. The kids woke up a little later and were a little less needy, yet I still felt like someone was trying to torture me when they woke me up. And I acted like it.

Wake Up For Your Life

I recently listened to a podcast (here), recommended by one of my readers. Kat Lee of Inspired To Action gave some great advice about how to wake up in the morning:

Wake up for your life, not to your life.

I don’t think this suggestion means that I must wake up before my kids wake up. (I’m not a huge fan of blanket statements about the way we ought to do things.) However, there is a deep jewel of wisdom here. I can wake up ready to meet my life with all I am rather than being smacked by it and play catch-up all day.

And that’s just it. Life has a way of catching me on my heels when I wake up unprepared to meet my day. Through the sleep-deprived years I settled into a pattern of action and thought that generally kept me in a reactive mode, tossed around like a flag in the wind. I know there is a better way. My whole family feels more stable and at peace when I stay in a proactive mode, keeping the forward motion of a bird in flight. Of course, I am not able to control the winds of every argument, injury or fancy of those around me. But I can meet all of life by leaning into the headwinds and navigating them with all the wisdom, strength and humility I’ve been given.

5 Proactive Ideas To Start The Day

I’m a work in progress. Here are a few things that I do to when I focus on wake up for my life. Perhaps something here would help you, too.

  1. Prepare. To Do ListTake a few minutes each night to think through the next day’s schedule and goals. It took me twenty minutes to prepare this list for my kids last night, but it bought me hours of cooperation and accomplishment this morning.They loved their lists today and asked for another tomorrow. I rarely have a big list for the kids, but any kind of plan helps!
  2. Purge. Cut, minimize and simplify your schedule, possessions and expectations. Find and then keep finding the right balance for you and your household between being over and under whelmed. I have a long ways to go, but every little decision helps. My friend Trisha Martinez wrote a great post about this topic (here).
  3. Pray. In the groggy minutes after opening your eyes you may find aPrayer scripted prayer
    or verse to be really helpful for realigning your heart and mind with the heart of God. Spiritual Director, Kili Wenburg (here), introduced me to “Six Gestures of the Morning Praise” from Joyce Rupp’s book Out Of The Ordinary. It is lovely.
  4. Pump. Get your blood pumping in the morning with physical activity before it pumps with anxiety or anger. Your brain and nervous system will be more prepared for the stressors that come your way.
  5. Play. Find one light-hearted way to get everyone laughing in the morning. (Hint: making fool of yourself with slapstick humor works for kids every time.)

 

What routines or tips do you use to wake up for your day? I would love to have more ideas
from which to draw when I start to feel blown by the wind. Share here or on Facebook.

 

 

Welcome to my new website! Unfortunately, if you signed up for regular updates on my previous site, you will need to sign up again on this one. I am working on a special offering specifically for those who are on my email list. I’ll send it out when it’s ready in the next month or so!

 

 

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Your New Superpower

Apparently, I have a new superpower.

My daughter has been sad a lot lately. She is entering that delicate tension between child and teen, running toward independence while simultaneously mourning the loss of naiveté. I rejoice with her and hurt for her. This is, what seems to be, the second in a series of transitions into what we eventually come to know as “real life.”

I don’t blame her for having a difficult time with it all. Everyone was in awe with her when she was little. Two tiny pigtails atop her head and words like they came from an adult, she had everything a two year old needed to get all kinds of ooo’s and ah’s and wow’s. It’s hard when a little girl’s years catch up with her cuteness. Precious as she is now, she also has a lot more responsibility. It will never be the same. I totally get it.

I know she’s sad because she gets angry. The kids love each other so intensely that they drive each other crazy with the expectation to be honored and loved and considered. It’s hard for kids to do all that for each other. It’s hard for any of us to do that for each other, regardless of how much we want it for ourselves. So several times a day they are offended and angry – especially after 4:00 in the afternoon. And in those times it is hard for them to do anything but scrutinize my favor.

You NEVER make Grant…You ALWAYS let Grant…He got more…Oh of COURSE he gets that!

I stopped rationalizing with her in these moments a long time ago. It doesn’t matter if she’s right or wrong, it matters that she isn’t feeling loved. We have no intention of changing her consequence or our decisions; but when this happens, the girl needs help.

One night a couple of weeks ago I realized that my little gal needed some extra sweet love – the kind that reaches the sadness under her anger. Right after an angrily offended outburst I followed her to her bed…

Hey babe. Look at me. Right here – look at me.

Her eyes wandered over for a brief second and met my adoring whole-face, gentle smile.

I love you, Amelia.

She immediately turned her head and hid the smile she couldn’t keep off of her own face. I didn’t joke this time. No arguing. No giving in. I just told her I loved her and I said it with my entire being. And I’ve been doing it periodically ever since. Then last night it happened again.

“How do you do that?”

Do what, honey?

“Make people smile.”

I don’t know. I guess it’s just my new superpower.

…a superpower we all have when we put on our super-deep goggles to see past surface-anger and find deep-pain. There’s no need to be afraid – no need to rationalize it away. Just meet it with deep-love.

You Are Loved

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When The Walls Close In

This weekend I made a poor decision: I went to the department store Sunday morning. My daughter had a birthday party to attend after church and needed a gift. We were up early and in need of a few staples, so I grabbed my bags and we headed out so I could cross one of the jobs off my list. Sometimes it feels good to get a head start on the day.

Sometimes it’s just foolish. Our little mother-daughter shopping date turned into a race against time – a race I knew I was going to lose by the time we hit the self-checkout. Frantic-mommy whispers escaped as my sweet daughter tried to help.

Just stay BACK! Stop doing that! Move! I HATE coming here!

She looked at me and backed off. I can only imagine what was going through her head: “What happened to the kind mommy who held my hand as we walked in?”

I carried that irritable energy with me through most of the day. When I had a few quiet moments, I took a step back and recalled something I said in my talk to a mom’s group last week.

I didn’t realize I was depressed because for two years I covered my sadness with irritability. Sadness was under all of that frustration.

I’m not depressed right now, but I certainly have my irritable days. I don’t want them to multiply and become the norm for me again, so I intentionally work to discern irritability’s cause.

In this quiet moment I asked: What is sad about this situation?

I felt the walls of the store closing in on me. I felt pressure. The competing pressures to be on time and accomplish my tasks pressed in on me in the store. I generally seem to be able to handle one without the other, but when there is a time crunch on my to-do list, I feel trapped.

That’s the thing about pressure. Unless there are actual walls closing in on me, pressure is an illusion – just like this picture. There was no real danger.

Creative Commons

Creative Commons

The objective reality was that I mismanaged my time and there were going to be natural consequences for that. I was going to be the reason we would walk into church late. None of us like being late and I don’t like to miss any music at the beginning of the service. I felt like I was letting my family down. And that was sad to me.

But I wasn’t going to change the sad consequence at the self-checkout, so what did I do? I redistributed the pressure I felt and placed it on Amelia. Brilliant.

Managing time is not my forte. I’m going to mess up again. But I hope next time I will take a breath and choose to reject the perception of pressure, accept the consequences that follow and live with kindness in the moment.

Because finding sadness under my irritability can relieve pressure and release me to love.

For more on my experience with depression, check out my series: 

When I Should Feel Joy & 11 Tips for Preventing and Fighting Depression

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When it’s not the end of the world, after all.

Sometimes it’s not the end of the world, after all.

Perhaps you remember Belle from the Birthday Cake post (here)? She is our bull-in-a-china-closet, adorable and adored Pyredoodle.

Belle-Gate

One night a few days ago she pushed her way under our back yard fence and started running around the neighborhood. It’s happened repeatedly, despite our best blockades. We have learned that chasing her is counter-productive. She sees us or hears us call, gives us a taunting glance then takes off for a new hiding spot. So this night we left the front door open and waited, busying ourselves with work we could do near the entryway.

It wasn’t 5 minutes after she almost came inside and took off again when we heard her get hit by a car.

BAM!  YELP!

Yelp, yelp, yelp!!!!!!

Aaron and I ran outside to see her take off behind our neighbor’s house and into the dark river-wood.

The poor driver never saw her coming. He felt horrible. I wish we could get ahold of him and let him know the rest of the story.

It was clear that we wouldn’t find her in the night woods so we headed home and lay wet-wide-eyed in bed. Aaron was sure she ran off to die. He thought through all of the should-have’s then fell asleep. Through a steady stream of sobs and tears, I thought through all of the could-be’s and eventually had a restless nap before morning.

What if a fox finds her?
The kids will be devastated when I tell them tomorrow morning.
I haven’t introduced her to my niece who is longing to meet her.
What if it were one of our kids?
What if it were a friend’s child?
Would I ever recover? I’m sure I would not…

The big black hole of catastrophising sucked me in and swirled me around. I subconsciously gave into it as a sort of punishment for letting something bad happen to my family. I needed to feel bad.

I told the kids what happened when they woke up. One child ran off in great sobs, the other sat on my lap with quiet tears, hoping she would come home. But after the initial moments of sadness, they became energized with hope that Belle would return home if they just

…put out a trail of bread
…call her name
…take the flashlights into the backyard and look outside the gate.

They spent about an hour coming up with ways to lure her home.

I kept crying when they weren’t looking.

Poor, naïve children. They don’t realize how horrid this situation could be.

They stuffed a bag with “dog snacks” for me to carry with me on my journey into the woods to search for Belle. I took them to school, then headed out on what I was sure would be a long, sad journey. FullSizeRenderI got as far as the back gate when Belle barked at me from the other side of the fence – at her escape spot. I’m convinced she would have run away again if I didn’t have the kids’ snack pack. Miraculously, she suffered only a broken leg and a couple of flesh wounds. She asked me to carry her (yes, she asked) so I heaved her up and forward a few feet at a time until we made it to the house and eventually to her sweet veterinarian, my friend Amanda.

You can imagine our relief.

Well, their relief. For the next few days I remained on edge. Fragile. Anxious. The black hole spit me out, but I was still dizzy.

Because I forgot.

I forgot that I don’t have to punish myself. I forgot that many things can’t be explained or prevented. I forgot that sometimes little naïve children know the way of Love better than their wise and learned mother.

And sometimes it’s not the end of the world, after all.

End of the world Belle

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Be More of Who You Are

Be More Of Who You Are

I have a friend in Wisconsin who recently discoveredChristina Klausen her great love and talent for knitting. She’s made some amazing things this winter! I adore this picture of the smile on her face coupled with the display of her fabulous craftsmanship. Chris has found something special – a way to express her strong attention to detail, perseverance and love for her family.

There was a time I thought I would find those things in knitting, too.

Eight years ago when we lived in Wisconsin I was pregnant with our first child and exploring what it looks like to be a homemaker. My friends were particularly adept at the art of homemaking. I was inspired by their passion and ability to garden, cook, sew and…knit. I didn’t have much interest in these skills until the reality of motherhood began to hit me. As my baby bump grew I felt an increasing desire to imitate my friends so I could create a similarly homey atmosphere for my little family.

I went to the store and purchased knitting needles and yarn. One of my friends taught me the simplest knot and started me off on my very first knitting project. It took a couple of weeks but I was excited to see the scarf grow from the labor of my hands. I finished and held my triumph before me, then realized…scarfone end was twelve inches long and the other end was six! I have no idea how I lost so many stitches! I looked at it and just started to laugh. My knitting project was quite similar to all my other projects requiring precision of hand: a hot mess! I made the instantaneous decision that I would never knit again.

My declaration was not made out of embarrassment or defeat, I simply accepted that I am not made to pay detailed attention to projects I do with my hands. It was an empowering, exciting moment. In minutes I was at my knitting mentor’s home, surrendering my needles and yarn.

And I never looked back.

My heart swells when I see friends in their game – doing their thing. I celebrate them, learn from them, benefit from them and am inspired by them. But…

I don’t need to be them.

Through trial and error I continuously explore what it means for me to be a homemaker. Now that I’m not nurturing tiny children, I’ve found that I can nurture a garden. I enjoy cooking healthy meals for my family. I write. I think. I have deep conversations. And I throw parties. When I focus on developing my strengths that are highlighted in these activities – rather than tying myself in knots knitting – I feel more alive.

This morning my friend and Strengths Coach Laurie Hock led our small group in discussion about our strengths (take the Clifton StrengthsFinder here). With her guidance we are all beginning to understand how things that have made us feel different, weird or wrong in the past may actually be our brightest and most unique contributions to the world. She offered this very important point: “You can’t be anything you want to be, but you can be more of who you are.”

Another friend, referring to her small stature, said “The idea that we can be anything we want to be is not true! I will never be a great basketball player (no matter how hard I work at it)!”

You can’t be anything you want to be, but you can be more of who you are.

I could have spent my entire pregnancy working on knitting a scarf with equal ends. But what interests and strengths of mine would I be neglecting to develop or offer as I trudge through the effort of becoming simply proficient at knitting? I ended up spending that time painting items for the nursery and reading.

Here’s the thing:

I could huff and puff on my weaknesses and end up with a nice bunch of party balloons but no energy left to party.

Or I could apply effort to developing my interests and strengths and find that the fire I ignite fills a hot air balloon that brings the party to the sky!

Hot Air BalloonsSo here’s to you, my beautiful friend who knits up in the clouds! 
I will meet you there with ideas and questions.

You will offer me warmth. I will offer you depth.
And together we will make a home for the world.

For more information about Strengths Coaching and Speaking, contact Laurie Hock through her website www.growingpoints.biz. She has helped me tremendously in the past few months as I’ve begun to step into my calling.

Thanks for stopping by! I appreciate your follow here (sign up for email updates on the side or bottom of your screen) and on Facebook (Andrea Joy Wenburg). If you find this post helpful or inspiring, I’d love it if you’d share it with your friends!

What are your interests and strengths? Are you willing to offer them?

Let’s meet in the clouds!

Click to Read this related post: Stretch Into Who You Are – like it’s your JOB!

Deeply,

Andrea Joy

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When The Weight Of Love Knocks Me Down

Weight of Love
We had time to kill before school. I was feeling particularly drawn to this child in this moment, so I heaved up her 8-year-old self and we bounced around the kitchen to the morning music.

We used to dance like this when you were a baby. I’d hold you like this and would bounce you around the room. You loved it.

Then before either of us knew it, we were swaying softly to a song we weren’t expecting to hear. The melody continued as the words bound us together:

You were my first love, always there for me
You taught me how to walk and how to dream
God gave me your eyes

But it was you who showed me how to see
Now I can stand on my own
But I know you’ll never let go

I’ll always be your baby
No matter how the years fly by
The way you love me made me
Who I am in this world…

Ignore this moment and I’ll miss it. Hold it tight and I’ll worry.
Cradle it and I’ll cry.

These are the moments when timeDSCN1475 stops and the weight of love nearly knocks me down. It is the tender weight of what is, what was and what will be. It is the awkwardness of these moments that beg me to turn away.

Find something to do. Find something to say. Find something to rationalize. Whatever you do, don’t feel this moment, tearfully, with the one you love. 

Intimacy is so frightening.
Acknowledging the tenderness is so vulnerable.

But I’d rather be knocked down by the weight of love than run strong into isolation. So would you like to sit with me as I listen and cry?

My baby turns 8 today.

“I’ll Always Be Your Baby” Natalie Grant

To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. ~C.S. Lewis

Related: What The “Movie Move” means to a 5 year old.

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What The “Movie Move” Means To A 5 Year Old

Last weekend I had one of my favorite dates ever – with our 5 ½ year old son, Grant. After a quick trip to Burger King to devour his cheeseburger and strawberry-banana smoothie, we headed home to watch Planes Fire & Rescue. I brought three baskets of laundry out to the living room but when the he invited me to sit next to him, I decided not to multi-task the little guy.

He snuggled into my arm for a while until the heat from the fire got to him. Not long after that the intensity of the movie heightened and the date became epic.

Oh my! What’s going to happen?! This is kind of scary!

Grant gently put his arm around my back and began to pat my shoulder. In an upbeat voice he said, “It’s OK mom. It will be OK. I’ve seen it before and it will be OK.”  Movie Move

I melted into my son. He held my heart in his sweet hands and we connected deeply. At the tender age of five, the kid saw me in my distress and reached out to comfort me the same way I often comfort him. He knows instinctively what most of us push away by the time we are adults: tender touch and acknowledgement of distress is comforting, lessoning our experience of pain.

I’m not sure when it is that people begin to resist giving and receiving physical expressions of comfort. At some point it seems we get the message we need to be tough, not letting physical or emotional pain get to us. Shake it off. Deny it’s presence. Use distraction to keep from feeling it. Stay away and I won’t cry.

I suppose each of these strategies has its merits. The fact is that neuroscience is making interesting breakthroughs in understanding pain as a perception translated in the brain. Both physical and emotional pain are processed similarly and thus intimately tied. I hate to admit it, but the more I learn about it, the more I realize that pain is indeed all in my head.

But one fascinating aspect of physical and emotional distress is that their relief is also intimately tied. When I comfort Grant by kissing his wounds, he literally feels better! When I deny him my attention, his experience of physical pain is apparently worse. It is a lot easier to see this in a child. Young children still want to be comforted by a person.

The same is true of me. When I feel emotional or physical pain, my initial reaction is to physically or verbally throw my hand up. Hand

Stay away! I don’t want you to touch me!

Why? Because I don’t want to cry in your presence. If you offer comfort and I am actually comforted by you, you hold my heart in your hands – and I’m not sure I can trust you with my heart, so I’ll just scare you or push you away.

Is it possible to be deeply connected to another person if we refuse their comfort?

Here are a couple of things I’ve learned from our kids and my own experience needing comfort:

  • The gruffest reaction comes from the most tender heart. See tears under the refusal of comfort and under the anger.
  • Ease your way in. When I am overwhelmed and throwing a grown-up tantrum, I need some perspective. But I won’t be ready to receive that perspective until you reach out. I often rub lotion on the back of a child throwing a tantrum. It is a physical reminder that we are not fundamentally and irreversibly screwed up in each other’s eyes.
  • It is easiest to receive comfort from someone who isn’t afraid of being comforted themselves. If you aren’t comforted in your own pain, you won’t be able to truly comfort someone else.

I hope Grant continues to use the movie move  – to comfort others with the same kind of comfort he receives.

Like Andrea Joy Wenburg on Facebook for additional information about pain perception and sensitivity.

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When I Should Feel Joy #5: Deeper Joy

We were sitting on the only furniture left in her late-grandma’s dimly lit nursing home room. She was back for the funeral and my friend invited me over so we could talk one-on-one with no kids around. Life-lived poignancy struck me. I suppose it was the perfect place to have a life-living conversation. This is how I remember it:

“Are you depressed?”

Well, I might be. I thought I would do better after having realized how I had been looking to others to make me feel valuable. We have really been doing well the past few months because of it…but I still feel rage when I feel overwhelmed.

“Do you enjoy your kids?”

Well…I love them. And there are moments I enjoy them but most of the time I feel frustrated by all their needs I am expected to meet. But I’m their mom. Isn’t that my job?

“Do you want to be angry at your kids or will you look back on this time of your life and wish you would have been able to enjoy it?”

Boom.

There’s nothing like end-of-life reminders to evoke right-now-life movement. Her question made me realize I didn’t want to live to survive, I wanted to live a life of deep joy alongside whatever pain would come. But I could not do it on my own. Something significant happened in my heart while at the spiritual direction class, as I described in my last post. I am so glad I didn’t miss the opportunity for inner growth in the middle of my pain. But nine months later, at the time my friend confronted me, I was still struggling.

That’s the thing about depression. There very well may be spiritual transformation in the middle of it, but if it’s been around long enough, our brains may need help to finally overcome it. Soon after our conversation, I began taking anti-depressants. Choosing to take or not take anti-depressants is a very personal decision. My goal was to utilize them to help me regain chemical balance while I continued to work on integrating more healthy practices into my life. Several months later I went off of the medication and through another transition into a new beginning: a life aware of how the choices I make daily impact my spiritual/mental health.

I had expectations about what it would be like to welcome our children into the world and raise them. Some of my expectations became sweet reality. But if I have learned anything through this season, I have learned that joy is not found in fulfilling the “should’s” of life. It is not something you feel just because it is your middle name. Joy is much deeper than that. It is the others-centered freedom and love released when I lean deep into pain and find that I am safe and Loved, just as I am.

Joy Is Deeper

Here are some final observations from my heart-experience with depression:

  1. Depression may be emotional and spiritual, but it is definitely practical and physical. Meds brought their own set of side effects that helped me get back on track but also made me ready to be done with them several months later. Every person is different – if your doctor recommends anti-depressants and you are willing, give them a chance and follow the doctor’s lead to try something else if the first option doesn’t work. I offer other friend-to-friend practical advise in my post 11 Steps to Prevent and Fight Depression.
  1. We needed our friends and family. I’m so glad my friend moved into my chaotic heart to help me realize I was still depressed. But I’m not sure how we would have made it to that point without the unwavering support and practical care from our extended family – especially my mom who stayed and helped care for us a lot those first few months. If you think someone might be struggling with depression, reach out and invite them to share themselves with you. And just as importantly, reach out to their spouse or care-giver who may need and appreciate support, as well. Perhaps you want to utilize the discussion points in the 11 Steps to Prevent and Fight Depression as a place to begin.

Has this series been meaningful or helpful to you in any particular way? Are you left with questions unanswered or things with which you disagree or would like to add to the discussion? Leave a comment below, message me on Facebook or email me at awenburg@gmail.com. I would love to hear from you.

Deeply,

Andrea Joy

When I Should Feel Joy #1: Unprepared

When I Should Feel Joy #2: Postpartum Depression

When I Should Feel Joy #3: Shame

When I Should Feel Joy #4: True Love

When I Should Feel Joy #5: Deeper Joy

11 Steps to Prevent and Fight Depression