Tag: parenting

Back to School: Mini Me Begins 5th Grade at Zion

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It’s hard to believe another school year has begun and this one is extra special! My mini me is officially a fifth grader at Zion Lutheran School, kicking off Zion’s 174th year of Christian education. What a legacy this school has, and what a blessing that we get to be part of it.

This year is bittersweet, it’s her last year in the main building and her final year of elementary school. Next fall she’ll cross the parking lot into the “big, bad” junior high building that houses 6th, 7th, and 8th grade. That territory feels way out of this Noteworthy Mommy’s area of expertise (and comfort zone), but thankfully, we’re not there just yet. For now, I’m soaking in this milestone year.

Mini me bounded into the first day of school full of excitement. The biggest smiles came when she realized she was placed in class with her bestie, Abby, and the rest of her friend group. She instantly fell in love with her homeroom teacher, Miss Skerston, but also loves Mrs. Cornejo, who guides her in Reading and English. What a gift to have teachers who not only dedicate themselves to academics but also share their faith daily, teaching my girl about Jesus, life, and gradually preparing her for the leap to junior high.

Mini Me showed Jesus’s love on the very first day of school when she warmly adopted a new friend into her friend group, making sure no one felt left out. How exciting it was to find out that this “new” friend is actually one of her preschool buddies who has returned to Zion after five years away! The girls picked right back up where they left off, and mini me and her friends were thrilled to add her to their little circle. It was such a joyful way to kick off the school year!

With 5th grade comes more responsibility. This year’s school supply list included a massive zip-up binder (think Trapper Keeper for all you 80s kids, only this one is made of fabric, has zippers, pockets, files, all the bells and whistles). Picking it out was like going car shopping, with the various colors and features. She also made the transition to dressing out for PE, which meant stocking up on official Zion Bobcat gym clothes. On top of that, she now has online assignments to keep track of and had to select electives in the arts. She chose choir and beginning band (more on that adventure in a future post), which means she has no study hall. It’s been a challenge, but my determined 5th grader is ready to make it all work!

As I look at her diving into this year with joy, commitment, and faith, I couldn’t be more proud. She truly loves her school, her teachers, and her friends. Zion has always been more than just a school—it’s a family. And with a new principal and assistant principal leading the way, I know this will be an amazing year filled with growth, laughter, and many blessings.

Here’s to 5th grade, new adventures, and another year at Zion Lutheran School. I couldn’t think of a better place to be!

A Clydesdale Named Rascal and the Sweetness of the Unexpected

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This afternoon, God tucked a little surprise into an ordinary day and Mini Me and I were lucky enough to unwrap it.

Most days after school, we take the same route home. But today, for no real reason, I chose to drive down Highway 94. Maybe it was the sunshine warming the car after a dreary few days, or maybe it was a nudge from the Holy Spirit. Either way, it led us right to the unexpected.

As we neared our neighborhood, we spotted something unusual in the gas station parking lot: a tent, balloons, and a massive horse…a Clydesdale. Not just any Clydesdale, but Rascal, a famous Budweiser Clydesdale with a glossy coat, feathery hooves, and a calm presence that instantly drew a small crowd of admirers. Although feeling a bit under the weather and longing for my comfy chair at home, I quickly turned the car around and pulled in. We couldn’t miss this! 

Mini Me’s face lit up as we walked over. She’s an experienced rider, having taken lessons at my cousin’s ranch, so getting to meet Rascal felt extra special. We pet his soft nose, chatted with his handlers, and even got to hold his rein for a quick photo. The spring sun was shining, the breeze was gentle, and for a few minutes, everything in the world felt just right.

Mini Me with Rascal.

For two days I was in bed with the flu, worn out and drained. And now God has brought this. An ordinary Friday transformed by something as simple and grand as a horse in a gas station parking lot. It reminded me that God’s gifts don’t always come wrapped in big plans or tidy schedules. Sometimes they come through a detour, a change in routine, or through a horse named Rascal.

The Noteworthy Mommy with Rascal.

Life has its heavy days. But sprinkled in, like a gift from heaven, are these moments of unexpected joy. Today reminded me to keep my eyes open, my heart open, and my plans open, because you never know when grace will gallop right into your day.

Have you ever had an unexpected surprise like this? I’d love to hear your story. Please comment below. 

Joy in Music: A Full-Circle Moment with My Mini Me

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Last week, this Noteworthy Mommy had the joy of stepping into the role of substitute music teacher at Zion. It was a day filled with music, laughter, and a surprising wave of emotion as I got to teach something near and dear to my heart, the recorder, to a room full of energetic 4th graders. But what made it extra special? My very own mini me is in the 4th grade this year, and I got to share this moment with her.

Mini Me and the Noteworthy Mommy

As a lifelong musician, my main instrument is the clarinet, and I hadn’t touched a recorder in years. But it was like riding a bike. The fingerings came back so naturally, almost like my hands remembered what my mind had long forgotten. The kids were eager to play, and when I demonstrated a few tunes for them, they clapped! There is truly nothing more heartwarming than being applauded by a group of nine and ten year olds. Their enthusiasm was contagious.

Teaching Zion 4th graders the recorder.

We played familiar favorites like When the Saints Go Marching In and Jingle Bells, but the piece that moved me most was a simple melody by Mozart titled Andante. I played it carefully for the class and explained that “andante” is a musical term meaning moderately slow. As the gentle notes floated through the room, I was suddenly transported back in time, not just to my own childhood when I first learned to play the recorder in 4th grade but to those sweet early days of motherhood.

I remembered holding my infant daughter in my arms, streaming lullabies in the soft glow of her nursery. I remembered the way her tiny fingers curled around mine, the scent of her baby skin, and the ache in my heart as I packed away each set of outgrown clothes, mourning the passage of time. I was scared back then, unsure of the future, desperate to hold onto those fleeting newborn moments. If only I had known the amazing things God had in store for both of us! 

Teaching that music lesson was a full circle moment. From 4th grade me learning the recorder, to over four decades of playing the clarinet, making music with friends, joining musical ensembles, and creating lifelong memories; music has always been a thread running through my life. That little plastic recorder reminded me that beauty doesn’t have to come from something fancy. Joy can be found in the simplest of melodies.

And perhaps the best part of this experience is it helped me connect with the class in a new way. I’m usually the mom leading classroom parties or driving on field trips, but on this day, they saw me as a musician. And they listened. Really listened. We laughed, we played, and we made music together.

Music has a way of bringing back memories, of stirring feelings long buried, of connecting people across time and space. It’s full of emotion and it’s meant to be shared. And yes, if you want to torture someone, just put them in a room of 4th graders playing the recorder and don’t let them wear earplugs! We all start somewhere and I sounded exactly the same when I began. But there’s beauty in that, too.

God gives us such wonderful and unexpected opportunities. What a gift to be my daughter’s music teacher for the day. What a privilege to share this musical connection with her. What joy there is in music! 

Breaking the Toy Mold: A Tomboy’s Journey Through Play and Stereotypes

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I was never a doll person. While other little girls were happily brushing Barbie’s hair, I was racing Hot Wheels cars across the kitchen floor and reenacting epic battles with my Star Wars action figures. It wasn’t that I actively rejected dolls—I just never felt drawn to them. What fascinated me were the sleek designs of Matchbox cars, the intricate details and the thrilling adventures I could create with my plastic heroes.

But growing up in the late 70’s/early 80’s, toy aisles were strictly divided. There was no mistaking the boy section from the girl section. The boy aisle had the cool stuff—cars, action figures, spaceships, adventure sets—while the girl aisle was a sea of pink, filled with dolls, play kitchens, and frilly accessories. I didn’t fit neatly into the mold of what a little girl was “supposed” to like, and that realization hit me hard at my friend Ryan’s seventh birthday party.

At the end of the party, all the boys were given a shiny new Hot Wheels car as a party favor, while the girls received small dolls. I remember clutching that doll in my hand, my stomach sinking. I wanted the car. Why couldn’t I have the car? But I was a shy kid, too afraid to speak up, too afraid to say, “Hey, I like those better.” So I went home with a toy that felt foreign in my hands, a reminder that I was somehow different, even if I couldn’t quite understand why.

A few of my Hot Wheels cars.

I tried to push down that feeling of isolation, but it followed me. When I saved up my money to buy a Star Wars action figure; one I had been dreaming about. I was both excited and anxious. My parents encouraged independence, so they told me that if I wanted it, I had to buy it myself. That meant walking up to the cashier, speaking to an unfamiliar adult, and completing the transaction on my own. For a child with anxiety and an intense fear of talking to strangers, this was a monumental task.

With my heart pounding, I placed my prized Empire Strikes Back action figure on the counter, ready to claim what was mine. But instead of a simple exchange, I was met with a condescending, puzzled expression from the cashier.

“Why are you buying a toy made for a boy?”

The words stung. My excitement deflated instantly, replaced with shame. I didn’t know how to respond. Was I doing something wrong? Was I weird? The comment burrowed into my mind, reinforcing a growing sense that my interests were somehow unacceptable. I mumbled something, took my action figure, and hurried out of the store. But that interaction stayed with me.

I was lucky, my parents and grandparents never made me feel like I had to play with dolls. Sure, they tried buying them for me at first, but when they saw my enthusiasm for toy cars and Star Wars, they embraced it. They bought me Hot Wheels and action figures, and I built up an impressive collection, carefully stored in a Darth Vader-shaped carrying case. I still have them today, and they remain some of my most treasured childhood possessions.

My childhood Star Wars toys. The Darth Vader head is filled with action figures.

Looking back now, 43 years later, I’m relieved to see the toy industry making strides toward breaking down gender stereotypes. More parents are open to their sons playing with dolls and their daughters playing with cars. It’s heartening to see kids being given the freedom to explore what they truly enjoy, rather than being pushed into predetermined boxes.

But we still have a long way to go.

Every time I travel for work, I pass by a toy store in my local airport, and that old feeling creeps up again. Why? Because despite all the progress, there is still an unmistakable divide. One wall, boldly labeled BOYS, lined with miniature Hot Wheels cars. The opposite wall, labeled GIRLS, stocked with Barbies in every shade of pink.

Seen in an airport in March 2025!

Maybe things haven’t changed as much as I’d hoped!

I’m grateful for the progress, but I’m also reminded of how deeply ingrained these stereotypes still are. And I think of all the kids today who might feel the same way I did—shy, uncertain, wondering why they don’t fit the mold. I hope, as time goes on, we continue to challenge these outdated ideas and let kids be exactly who they are. Because no child should ever feel like they’re wrong for loving the things that make them happy.

Celebrating Mini Me’s Baptismal Birthday

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February 22 is a special day in our family—it’s Mini Me’s Baptismal Birthday! Each year, we take time to remember the day she was baptized into God’s family at Zion Lutheran Church in Belleville, IL, the same church where I was baptized as a baby.

Mini Me’s Baptism Day!

The Gift of Baptism

In the Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod (LCMS), we believe that Baptism is a miraculous work of God, not something we do for Him, but something He does for us. Through water and His Word, God creates faith in the heart of even the smallest infant. While we may not fully understand how this happens, we trust in His promises. Parents and godparents take on the responsibility of nurturing this faith, teaching the child about Jesus so that their faith may grow and remain strong, as Jesus commands in Matthew 28:18-20.

A Joyous Day of Family and Faith

Mini Me was surrounded by so much love on her baptism day. Her Godmother, Aunt Kay Kay, traveled from Ohio, while my husband’s sister came from Georgia. My cousin Julie and her husband Rick also stood as her Godparents. Along with other family members and close friends, we celebrated this important step in her life.

One of the special symbols from that day is her baptismal candle. It serves as a beautiful reminder that the light of Christ now shines in her life. Every year on her Baptismal Birthday, Mini Me loves lighting her candle, celebrating the faith that was given to her in those holy waters.

And of course, what’s a celebration without a sweet treat? Our tradition includes donuts with sprinkles—those tiny drops of sweetness reminding us of the water sprinkled on her head during her Baptism. It’s a simple yet meaningful way to mark this sacred anniversary.

Mini Me with her baptismal candle and donuts with sprinkles!

Remembering the Promise

Baptism is not just a one-time event but a lifelong gift. It’s a promise that God is always with her, guiding her, strengthening her faith, and calling her His own. Each year, as we light her candle and enjoy our sprinkle-covered donuts, we give thanks for this amazing gift of grace and look forward to seeing how God continues to work in her life.

It was a glorious day then, and it’s a glorious day every time we remember it. Happy Baptismal Birthday, Mini Me!

Reenacting a Family Photo

1972- Me, my mom and grandma on the day of my baptism
2015-Mini Me, me, and my mom on the day of Mini Me’s baptism.

Welcome to 4th Grade

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At the start of this school year, I found myself hesitant, almost mourning the end of early childhood as my daughter stepped into 4th grade. It felt like a shift I wasn’t quite ready for—one that marked the passing of time in a way that tugged at my heart. The days of little hands and endless snuggles were fading, and I wasn’t sure what this new chapter would bring. My degree is in early childhood education, and this new stage was filled with the unknown.

Mini Me on the first day of fourth grade

But now, halfway through the year, I see that this stage of parenting is not something to fear—it’s something to love. I’ve found joy in the deepening connection we share, in the inside jokes that make us burst into laughter, and in the excitement of rushing home to tell Daddy the funny stories from our day. I cherish seeing the world through her eyes as she grows in confidence, trying new things like playing the violin, working hard in dance, falling in love with theatre, and advancing to the next level in softball. Watching her discover her passions and push herself to new heights fills me with pride and excitement.

Academically, she is thriving. Her love for reading and writing is stronger than ever, and she has even created her own virtual book clubs—one with a friend and another with her grandmothers and aunts. Seeing her passion for stories and discussion brings me so much joy, and I love watching her enthusiasm for learning grow.

A big part of this journey has been navigating the year with Miss Schnegelberger, her teacher—a fourth-generation Lutheran educator and a first-year teacher who has already made such a meaningful impact. Not only is she supporting my daughter academically, but she is also guiding her in faith, teaching her about Jesus, and helping her grow into a kind, thoughtful person. Miss Schnegelberger has encouraged my little rule-follower to relax a bit, to enjoy life, and to not take everything so seriously—something I know all too well from my own nature.

Mini Me and Miss S.

Beyond the classroom, my daughter continues to amaze me with her leadership and creativity. She is the great negotiator, always finding ways to make her friend group happy, ensuring that everyone feels included and heard. On the playground, she and her besties, Abby and Penelope, dive into elaborate role-playing games, imagining themselves as sisters who recently lost their mother or a family who live on a farm with horses. And perhaps one of the most inspiring things about her is her fearless approach to trying new things. This year, she picked up the violin without hesitation—quite the opposite of me, the Noteworthy Mommy, who was so shy and afraid, only willing to try what my best friend was doing.

I realize now that each new stage brings something beautiful. I’m no longer dreading what’s next—I’m embracing it. The unknown doesn’t feel so scary anymore; it feels full of possibility. So bring it on! I can’t wait to see where this motherhood journey takes me next!

Mom Takes the Cake…Baked With Love

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My mom loves cake! Sponge, triple chocolate, strawberry, banana, almond…she isn’t picky. But her favorites are a lot like her, uncomplicated and sweet; angel food and white cake with vanilla frosting.

My mom loves cake and everyone knows it. When she’s at a family celebration, a church gathering, or a party of any kind, she always leaves with an overflowing plate of leftover cake, carefully prepared just for her by the host or hostess. And when the birthday cake is cut at a family party you’ll hear, “Make sure Aunt Janet gets a big piece!” Or a piece of each if there are multiple flavors. My mom loves cake!

From an early age my mom loved baking. As a child she hand crafted miniature baked goods with the help of her fully functional miniature toy oven. While other kids were playing outside, mom was left to her own devices, creating new delicacies complete with homemade frosting.

Mom’s love of baking continued into adulthood when she began getting recognized for her craft. Her baked goods were adorned with blue ribbons year after year at local competitions and she was crowned not once, not twice, but three times, Grand Champion Cake Baker of the County Fair! She was featured multiple times in the local newspapers, was interviewed on the radio, and everyone requested her recipes.

Mom with one of her award winning cakes.

Every year my mom would lovingly bake me a homemade, multi-layered cake for my Christmas birthday. Creatively decorated by my dad, and with my birthday angel announcing my age in the middle. In 1978 the cake had three layers, one red, one white, and one blue, for the bicentennial. Looking back the cakes were truly a labor of love, taking hours to complete. One year I did the unthinkable. I boldly declared, “I wish I had a store bought birthday cake like everyone else!” In that moment it was as if I had taken a cake knife to my mom’s heart and that was the end of my decadent homemade multi-layered birthday cakes. From then on I had nothing but store bought cakes. As a young tween I didn’t know my mom’s love language was baking, with an extra emphasis on cake, something that has taken me 40 years to realize. Like Jenna, from the Broadway musical Waitress, mom puts more than just sugar, butter, flour into her baking. She adds lots of love and bakes from the heart! I loved the special birthday cakes you made me. Thank you, mom.

I have happily been on the receiving end of many scrumptious treats over the years but I never inherited my mom’s gift of baking or her passion for it. I simply don’t have the patience. Mom doesn’t bake as much as she used to but that hasn’t stopped her from teaching the next generation how to bake. A few times a year she will enlist the help of her only grandchild (my daughter) and the two will spend an afternoon in the kitchen baking cookies or cupcakes or banana bread with chocolate chips. Giggles flow from the kitchen, secrets shared. Memories are made as my mom shares her gift, her love with her granddaughter. Reminding me, “It’s amazing what baking can do!”

Happy Birthday Mom!

Third Grade…A Transitional Year of Learning and Love

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It seems like yesterday that I walked my mini me into the Sonshine Center for her first day of preschool. Now she is a big third grader and requested to be dropped off in the carline. My sentiments echo what parents across the world are thinking… if you blink you are going to miss it! If you look away for a mere minute, her childhood will be over. So embrace this stage and age with all the good and the bad and know that like a shooting star, if you look away, you may miss the magic!

What Makes Third Grade Special?– The last grade level under the early childhood umbrella, third grade takes the skills taught in first and second and expands on them. Third graders read complex text, develop fact fluency (in addition, subtraction, multiplication and division) and read for meaning in science and social science. In third grade we begin to see the shift from “learning to read” to “reading to learn.” As a reading consultant I don’t like to use these terms because we learn while we are reading at all grade levels and most third graders continue to need phonics instruction which falls under learning to read. But it is a phrase used by many to describe the changes we begin to see during this transitional year. The best thing you can do for a third grader at home is to get them to read. Easy to say as a reading consultant but if I’m being honest, hard for this Noteworthy Mommy to implement.

First Day of School Cookies– Gone are the days of the ceremonial reading of “The Kissing Hand” but the tradition of making Nana’s famous homemade sugar cookies lives on! This year my friend, Ms. Ginger, helped us bake the delectable cookies that my mini me gifted to her teachers and administrators on the first day of school. Instead of making cutouts of hands and hearts, like we did in years past, we used a cookie stamp with Martin Luther’s rose. Borrowed from Ms. Cherie, who I refer to as my Zion mom, it made a sweet addition to our back to school cookies.

Making homemade Back to School cookies with Martin Luther’s rose design!

Miss Firminhac– My mini me has a young and energetic teacher this year. Miss Firminhac is new to Zion and came to us after completing two years teaching fourth grade in another state. She is a third generation Lutheran school teacher and we are thrilled to have her! The minute I met Miss Firminhac I knew she was a natural teacher. She is confident, kind and tall! What impressed me the most is how she got down on my mini me’s level and spoke directly to her in a soothing tone that eased any trepidations my mini me had about starting a new school year. With her inviting classroom and infectious smile, my “eight year old self” secretly wishes she had Miss Firminhac for a third grade teacher! I know my mini me is going to learn exponentially under the guidance of her dynamic teacher and will not only learn about the love Jesus has for His children but will be shown love by Miss Ferminhac as well.

A Year Living In the COVID-19 Pandemic… A Noteworthy Reflection

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March 17, 2020, was the day our lives changed. That’s the day our school shut down, our church closed its physical doors, and I realized COVID-19 was something serious.

I found comfort through writing, instantly publishing daily blog accounts of how my daughter and I spent our days in isolation. I shared my early childhood expertise through links, activity downloads and personal reflection. Putting my words out into the world was my way of trying to do good, an attempt to help parents and caregivers navigate our “new normal.”

Nothing was normal this year. If we give the past year a grade, most would agree that it earned a big red F! An F for failure! In fact, there are several choice “f” words that come to mind when one thinks of living an entire year in a global pandemic! It certainly isn’t a year any of us would have chosen for ourselves…we didn’t see it coming.

The last 365 days have been a roller coaster of emotions. I was fearful, especially during the beginning, when there were so many unknowns. Countless nights were spent lying awake in fear; worrying about my family, mourning my pre-pandemic life, and contemplating the future. But the year wasn’t a total failure. There were bright spots amidst the darkness. As I browse my blog posts other “f” words emerge from the screen like faith, family, fun and friends. These words are proof that goodness shone through the fear.

COVID-19 took so much away (my consulting job, my music, live performances, travel, time with extended family and friends, the list goes on… But when all of those things were taken away, what was left was a true blessing and something I took for granted…quality time with my family of three. When I look back at my pandemic posts my heart fills with joy when I see the sweet memories my little family made, remember how we relished in life’s simplicities and found creative ways to do the familiar. (car parades, drive through celebrations and Zoom play dates) And with more time at home, I began studying God’s word and strengthening my faith.

My family of three, Christmas 2020.

The pandemic has taught me that when you have faith, family and friends, you can face uncertainty, loss and disparity and emerge resilient. You can tackle fear head on, learn from your mistakes, and strive to make the most from your circumstances. When you have faith, family and friends, you have hope. And that hope gets you through the unthinkable. It helps you survive anything, even a national pandemic. It changes you, makes you see beyond yourself and makes you better as a result.

In a year that received a failing grade, lessons were learned, lives were changed. To quote a song from one of my favorite musicals. “I have been changed, for good.” I’m not dismissing the fact that the pandemic brought great loss and incredible struggle. As you read this you may be one of the many individuals who continue to physically and mentally struggle from this unprecedented year. Please find hope and encouragement in my words and know that I’m with you. God is with you and you don’t have to walk alone.

Kindness…The Universal Language

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The Kindness Project– My daughter’s kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Reed, started a weekly kindness project last month. She gives her students a kindness challenge to accomplish every weekend. Some challenges are easy like, “say something kind to your parents” or “call someone and say hi.” Others require a bit more effort like “thank a pastor,” thank the school administrators,” “do something kind for a friend” or “send a card to someone.” All of the challenges are age appropriate tasks to develop a servant heart in the lives of young students. So imagine my surprise when one of the challenges made me reach outside of my comfort zone and transformed my heart forever.

The challenge seemed simple enough, “do something kind for a neighbor.” I thought we could pick our neighbors down the street who have a daughter Lillian’s age or do something nice for the Rogers family, two houses down. They go to our church. But when I asked my daughter which neighbor she wanted to pick she enthusiastically chose our next door neighbors who own Pikachu and Benji, two dogs she absolutely adores! The dogs owners are friendly but we don’t know them very well. They don’t speak much English so our communication with them has never gone beyond a neighborly wave and a nod. Why did my daughter have to pick them? Will our next door neighbors understand why we are giving them homemade cookies and a drawing created with crayons? (what my daughter decided she wanted to give our neighbors) Why couldn’t my daughter pick someone familiar?

Then I thought… What would Jesus do? Would He play it safe or reach out to the unknown? Although this kindness task would force me to step out of my safe haven, I knew I had to assist my daughter and complete the kindness challenge with our next door neighbors. When we rang the doorbell and they didn’t answer, we left the goodies on their door mat. A few days later we saw them in the yard and they waved an enthusiastic thank you and I could tell they were greatly touched by the huge smile on their faces! My heart was overjoyed!

A few weeks later our doorbell rang and our neighbors’ son was at the door with a very special surprise! He was home from college and had a special delivery for my mini me… a stuffed dog that looked like Benji (their dog) and a handwritten heartfelt note that he had written for his parents. It was touching to learn that a small act of kindness meant so very much to them!

All of this happened because of the kindness project initiated by my daughter’s kindergarten teacher and my daughter’s huge heart. As a mother I am hyper focused on all of the things I want to teach my daughter that I never stopped to realize all of the wonderful things I’m learning from being her mother! And what a blessing it is to send our daughter to a Lutheran School where she is growing academically but more importantly learning about Jesus and how to serve others. An authentic friendship has developed between our families and I am thankful my daughter helped me reach out to someone new. I learned that when you show kindness and love to others, language is no longer a barrier!