Good Advice

I have always sought to follow the advice of those who have gone before me and to try my best, yet without their perspective, to take it to heart, especially to "enjoy your husband and children and don't take a single second for granted." But this particular article I found at An Ordinary Mom worded it so beautifully and so succinctly that I had to share. It was such a vivid reminder to go hug my loved ones, really hard......and right now!

“All my babies are gone now. I say this not in sorrow but in disbelief. I take great satisfaction in what I have today: three almost-adults, two taller than I am, one closing in fast. Three people who read the same books I do and have learned not to be afraid of disagreeing with me in their opinion of them, who sometimes tell vulgar jokes that make me laugh until I choke and cry, who need razor blades and shower gel and privacy, who want to keep their doors closed more than I like. Who, miraculously, go to the bathroom, zip up their jackets and move food from plate to mouth all by themselves. Like the trick soap I bought for the bathroom with a rubber ducky at its center, the baby is buried deep within each, barely discernible except through the unreliable haze of the past.

“Everything in all the books I once poured over is finished for me now. Penelope Leach., T. Berry Brazelton, Dr. Spock. The ones on sibling rivalry and sleeping through the night and early-childhood education, have all grown obsolete. Along with Goodnight Moon and Where the Wild Things Are, they are battered, spotted, well used. But I suspect that if you flipped the pages dust would rise like memories.

“What those books taught me, finally, and what the women on the playground taught me, and the well-meaning relations –what they taught me, was that they couldn’t really teach me very much at all. Raising children is presented at first as a true-false test, then becomes multiple choice, until finally, far along, you realize that it is an endless essay. No one knows anything. One child responds well to positive reinforcement, another can be managed only with a stern voice and a timeout. One child is toilet trained at 3, his sibling at 2.

“When my first child was born, parents were told to put baby to bed on his belly so that he would not choke on his own spit-up. By the time my last arrived, babies were put down on their backs because of research on sudden infant death syndrome. To a new parent this ever-shifting certainty is terrifying, and then soothing. Eventually you must learn to trust yourself.

“Eventually the research will follow. I remember 15 years ago poring over one of Dr. Brazelton’s wonderful books on child development, in which he describes three different sorts of infants: average, quiet, and active. I was looking for a sub-quiet codicil for an 18-month old who did not walk. Was there something wrong with his fat little legs? Was there something wrong with his tiny little mind? Was he developmentally delayed, physically challenged? Was I insane?
“Last year he went to China. Next year he goes to college. He can talk just fine. He can walk, too.
“Every part of raising children is humbling, too. Believe me, mistakes were made. They have all been enshrined in the, ‘Remember-When-Mom-Did Hall of Fame.’ The outbursts, the temper tantrums, the bad language, mine, not theirs. The times the baby fell off the bed. The times I arrived late for preschool pickup. The nightmare sleepover. The horrible summer camp. The day when the youngest came barreling out of the classroom with a 98 on her geography test, and I responded, “What did you get wrong?”. (She insisted I include that.) The time I ordered food at the McDonald’s drive-through speaker and then drove away without picking it up from the window. (They all insisted I include that.) I did not allow them to watch the Simpsons for the first two seasons. What was I thinking?

“But the biggest mistake I made is the one that most of us make while doing this. I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of the three of them, sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages 6, 4 and 1. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night.

“I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less.

“Even today I’m not sure what worked and what didn’t, what was me and what was simply life. When they were very small, I suppose I thought someday they would become who they were because of what I’d done. Now I suspect they simply grew into their true selves because they demanded in a thousand ways that I back off and let them be.

“The books said to be relaxed and I was often tense, matter-of-fact and I was sometimes over the top. And look how it all turned out. I wound up with the three people I like best in the world, who have done more than anyone to excavate my essential humanity. That’s what the books never told me. I was bound and determined to learn from the experts. It just took me a while to figure out who the experts were.”~ Anna Quindlen, Newsweek Columnist

National Day of Prayer

I have been so blessed to read the writings of a woman who speaks her heart and fills it with the love of God. Heather is having her surgery today to remove her brain tumor. What an appropriate day for God to plan it. Today is the NATIONAL DAY OF PRAYER.


This is the day which the LORD hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it. Psalm 118:24

These are my other heart felt prayers:

For Christians to keep strong testimonies, which is the only way to boost our national morality.

For our leaders. The ones we support and ESPECIALLY the ones we do not. I pray for them to have the opportunities they need to receive Truth.

For my children and all children. They face so many lies on a daily basis in our society.

For our troops and missionaries overseas in harms way - they serve for OUR protections and freedoms and for the love of those who don't always love us or God in return.

For our schools. All of them. If you GET to home or private school, please pray with me for the parents who do not and for their children. Pray for the teachers.

For myself. I need to look for my own beam before praying for the motes of others.

For people who need Him, especially when they mean so much to me.

That Jesus Christ will be glorified in EVERY thing.

If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land. II Chron. 7:14

For my salvation through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Treasure Hunters - Family Edition

It's hard to know where to start on this particular post. Do I begin by describing my incredible mother-in-law, who has the strength and grace to endure the death of her husband, both parents, and her oldest son with a press-on, can-do attitude while working full time, caring for two dependent sons and still being the prototypical game-playing, cookie-baking Grandma? (Did I already mention the woman is INCREDIBLE?) Or should I start with my playful, only recent, just-daydreaming-because-it's-fun sudden desire to own a lake house where we can take our children and their friends on the weekends to avoid the eventual pitfalls of heightened weekend temptations?

Maybe I'll start with Easter Sunday. It was SO RELAXING and fulfilling to go to Grandma's (my MIL) house for our traditional holiday gathering of my husband's family. This includes my husband's mother, his two unmarried brothers, his married sister and brother-in-law and their four children (three grown and a girl my daughter's age), my MIL's sister and her husband and the five of us. Plus the girlfriend, boyfriend and fiance of my nieces and nephew. Confused yet? Anyway, we love our time of getting together for holidays at Grandma's house because there are no expectations but hugs. We eat, the ladies gab or play games, the men watch sports and fall asleep on the couch, the kids play billiards and jump on the trampoline, and then we eat again. It's heavenly.

And though we all live in various directions on the outskirts of a large metropolitan area, we just don't get to see each other all at once like this very often. So we exchange more detailed accounts of life since we last saw each other and make plans for more fellowship between certain ones of us. You know, typical family stuff. Until I mentioned my lofty little wish. Someone had asked about our new neighborhood and school and how we were enjoying all the changes lately in our lives and somehow we got around to discussing the dwindling possibilities for friends for our children who actually, um, behave and encourage rather than tempt and put down. And how we absolutely cherish the good friends that they do have and wouldn't it be nice if you could just isolate them on a island for the weekend and set them free with kites and sloppy sandwiches and boogy boards and let them be kids?! And the whole thing was really just so tongue-in-cheek and light hearted and "Aw shucks.....don't you wish they could just experience 'the good ole' days?"

UNTIL.

My sweet MIL forms an invisible light bulb over her head and runs off into her office. She returns a couple of minutes later with a yellowed piece of neatly folded paper and a look of deep thought on her face. "You know. I had forgotten ALL about it, but when you guys were very, VERY little, your father purchased a piece of land on Lake U. and I know I we have the deed in there somewhere, but here is a map of where it's located. Do you think it's anywhere near the water?" She hands the paper to my husband and I and we study it with my BIL and SIL looking on behind us. We decide to go the computer and use GOOGLE Earth to try to match the lay of the land to the lot lines. Instantly, we find a matching street name. This was not expected at all since the lots located on the map were apparently the first construction in that area and ours was purchased before my husband's birth and all.

Now, let me just explain a bit here that I've been toying with this whole idea recently purely for my personal entertainment, never expecting to actually really pursue it. And I never ask for material things in prayer. There is no intention to sound pious here; I just don't need to ask for material things because God has been SO GOOD to us and I have so many more pressing matters that I fall asleep practically begging for those before I've ever had a chance to get around to thinking about that stuff. But the other night, I did feel sort of supernaturally led to just share with God my silly little wish for a private place for my family to escape whenever we wanted to enjoy ourselves without the world's influence. I never specified that I hoped we could own it. I just casually let God know it would be such a blessing to have a place to occasionally recharge from the almost daily exposure to innappropriate examples and naughty billboards.

So we match up the general location of the two lots my FIL bought 40 years ago for an astounding $250! And it's AT THE POINT OF THE ONLY ISLAND IN ONE OF THE BIGGEST LAKES IN OUR STATE ONLY 2 HOURS AWAY!!! Can you here my screaming? AHHHHH! And my amazing, sweet, intelligent, completely crazy MIL had "just forgotten all about it!" (Let me interject here that this officially constitutes a pattern. On another occasion, she was reminded her husband had purchased 10 acres in a mid-size town that turned out to have a gas station on it in a prime location. This cracks me up! I was blessed in every way for the MIL I get to have, but has she lost her fun-loving mind?! And I have always heard stories of how my FIL like to "dabble" in entrepreneurial efforts, but it seems he did all right with it after all!)

The funny thing is, I have had no problem keeping my anticipation in check. We are all planning to make a trip out there to scout out the EXACT location (we could only narrow it down to 2 rural neighborhoods) together in a couple of weeks. We also found out my FIL's brother also owns half the property, so we will invite him to go with us and hear his rightful input as well. It may turn out to be a terrible location. Forty years later, who knows what has become of the development? But just the fact that we have been given this fun little extended family adventure is thrilling! I really haven't had to force myself not to care how it actually turns out. I just love the opportunity to hunt down this fun mystery together. And if we find out we own some lake front property that's actually usable, then you can bet I'll be singing Hallelujah even underwater. At least on the weekends - when I'm not otherwise helping my husband to ransack his mother's office!

Sweet Public Sundays

After much mental game-playing to try to delay such realizations, I have finally conceded that my life is entering a drastically different phase from the previous few years. And I am finally beginning to even embrace it. I am finally giving in to the idea that my home will never again be filled with a multitude of half-filled sippy cups. I will no longer hear the sounds of sing-songy cartoon themes like Dora The Explorer or Blues Clues blasting from a TV that no one is even watching. Now my kids would rather watch pre-teen sitcoms that require far more vigilance in screening beforehand. The toys that filled the living room floor and burdened a clean path to the kitchen are gone. The children are starting to prefer role play in their rooms instead. They like to open the window and pretend it's a fast food drive-through. And more and more, they are preferring to play these games with friends, peers their own ages, rather than just with Mom and Dad.

Dalton, especially, is getting to that age where a kiss on the cheek is a little too uncomfortable for the school drop-off line. Instead, he'll just lean his head down for me to ruffle his hair and tell him I love him in his ear, though it looks like I could just be reminding him there is lunch money in the small pocket of his backpack. The funny thing is, I thought when he ever got that way, I might be offended. But I'm not. Because he doesn't come across at all as if he is embarrassed of us now that he is growing up. It's more like HE needs to start believing that he is going to have what it takes to be on his own one day, because instinctively he is beginning to realize that will eventually be the case. And I instinctively want to encourage him that he will one day do well as his own man, even as I secretly pray that day would be a very long time in coming.

Thankfully, every night lately I have been noticing that as I sit on the sofa to help my daughter with her homework, Dalton comes to sit beside me and leans his head against my shoulder as he and I listen to her read. He's very subtle. Sometimes it even takes me a couple of minutes to realize he is there. I am so engulfed in helping her to sound out the more difficult words. Occasionally, he'll even slip his arm around my neck as he sits with me.

But on Sundays, this ritual makes it's only public appearance. After years of participation in Children's Church, this is Dalton's first year to come into regular services. No more brightly colored pictures of the most popular Bible stories. No more macaroni glued to form scenes on the back of a paper plate. My son is now expected to sit with the adults and hear the preaching of God's Holy Word. Sometimes the subject matter still seems a tad too tender for his innocent ears. I know it's inevitable he'll hear about topics such as war and church strife and sex SOMEWHERE, if not in church, but still........I'm longing for the days when learning to tie his shoes was his biggest worry in life.

So this morning, as the past few Sunday mornings, I couldn't help but smile with sweet satisfaction as Dalton leaned his head against my shoulder right there on the pew for all to see. He even grabbed my hand and held it in my lap as he listened to the pastor preach about end times and trusting God in times of persecution. He could have chosen to sit with his friends, but instead he leaned on me and made comments or asked questions only at purely appropriate moments. He's getting so grown up that way. And I just thanked God for His marvelous grace. That He saw fit to make it so that they leave us very slowly. And that when they do, they are far more prepared than they probably recognize. Hopefully, far more prepared than I feel like I will be. But for now, I just love that head breathing softly on my shoulder as I soak in God's reminders to us both. That though we don't see Him, He will always be with us. One day, when my son leaves my home and goes wherever it is that God's plan is leading him, my strongest hope is that he will remember that. And know that he has a mom back at "home" who feels the same way!

He Grows And Roots Ever Deeper Into My Heart

There's always a party flake, isn't there, showing up in body but whose mind is somewhere else? That's me, this week. But I'm O.K. admitting that, because the truth is that my family - my most fun-nest party (of 5) - is into their own festive antics this week, so I'm just going to have to say a quick "hello", get to know the names and faces, and call you back at "home" when I get a chance later. Yes, I've got somewhere better to be right now, but as far as I can tell, this party is full of women who get it. Babies before boas and tiaras.

Even if one of those "babies" really isn't anymore. Yesterday, Dalton and I spent a really wonderful evening at his very first "Troop Recruitment Fellowship," for Boy Scouts. Troop Recruitment is very similar to sports recruiting in that the boys visit a variety of different organizations in meet and greet style, getting to know the current members while they give their best spiel on the specific philosophies unique to them as a group. They in turn get to know our boys and what they want to achieve through Scouting.

Watching Dalton interact in this process just blew me away. I don't know why I was so surprised by his high level of professionalism. Dalton has always been a very kind and responsible, very smart boy. But that's just it. He has always been A BOY. A kind and responsible, smart and rowdy, silly and immature little boy. Last night, I saw something in him I have always known he had the potential for. It just seems like that potential was being fulfilled so very much sooner than I would have anticipated.

After the fellowship time, when the official meeting was being called to order, I took a seat in unfamiliar territory at the back of the room. No longer was I sitting beside my son for support. Instead I watched with bitter sweet emotions as he walked boldly forward to take his seat amongst the men. A boy, decidedly younger-looking than the muscular teen-aged scouts not far from graduation, but then he took his turn at speaking. With confidence and humility, he explained what he has enjoyed most about scouting, how he plans to use his growing knowledge to succeed in life (he wants to be a pilot), and how he would use his scouting experience to influence others. He said his goal is to aim for the highest Eagle Scout rank, but only if he can do so while putting God, family and school first! I sat in utter amazement, knowing my son has always strived to make God and us proud, but never quite so aware of this depth of thought going on inside of his heart nor the eloquence with which he could explain himself!

During the question and answer session, several of the boys raised their hands to offer somewhat rambling stories of limited relevance to the topics being discussed. As parents, we are used to this. These are elementary aged boys after all, and my son has not been immune to this in the past. But as I sat there, almost out of body, and witnessed the Troop leader and members marvel at the thoughtfulness of my son's questions, I was equally as impressed. Had he been someone else's son I was watching, I still would have taken notice. How proud he made me to call him my son! This "child" was teetering somewhere in the middle between the rowdy goofiness of a school boy and ,at that moment, an ermerging young man. My heart was bursting with gratitude and pride at the smart and assured manner with which he was handling himself. As he finished his visit with eye contact and hand shakes, he turned to me and nonchalantly offered, "I love you, Mom." I think I melted in a puddle right there! As my little boy grows and matures, there are days I find myself fighting the inevitable sadness of letting go of the innocence of baby days gone by. But to temper that, God gives me glorious glimpses of new accomplishments and decisive victories of a young man I am so very proud to know!

In the end, I don't think this is probably the troop with which Dalton will align himself and we both agreed on that. They were friendly and capable and helpful, but they probably just weren't "it" for reasons unrelated to their character. But I am convinced that when Dalton does make his decision, it will be to the benefit of the Troop he selects. I say that not just as a proud mom, but as someone simply blessed to be able to know him. Blessed to be consulted as he begins to form goals and excercise his growing independence. Blessed to watch him grow into the person God intends for him to be. Blessed to there for him on the days when he wants to slide back into the safety of boyhood. Blessed to watch him become someone very special, apart from his place as the first born child of our family. Blessed to watch first hand as God molds him into a leader, a loyal friend, a successful Scout, and a fine YOUNG MAN!

To all of those who left such sweet comments of good wishes toward my daughter, Thank You for your kindness. She did stay home from school today with a fever and slept for most of the afternoon, but she is a good patient and we hope with all of the rest, she can return to school tomorrow or Thursday. Then don't be surprised if I stop by your blog for a while!

COMMODITY TRADING

Here is a big fat warning to anyone out there who is just getting started on this crazy wonderful strange perplexing path called "Parenthood." When the "old-timers" (unfortunately, I almost count!) warn you to "enjoy them; they grow up too fast," they should be wearing neon orange vests, waving giant red flags and standing by enormous LED-lit billboards flashing "CAUTION! CAUTION! CAUTION!"

Blame it on having an unscheduled 9 days holed up together last week, or the fact that I have only 1 semester left with a preschooler at home, but I am missing those days terribly! I have been going before God lately with a whole lot of "Why's?" Not the "I don't trust You" kind of why's that invade certain other areas of my life. These are the "this is so confusing; I thought I had THIS part figured out and then you switched it up again and I'm trying to make sense of things but now I'm befuddled all over again...." kind of why's.

Unlike most little girls I know, I did not grow up with the fairytale dream of my Prince Charming and a white dress and a tidy house with the white picket fence. (O.K., I DID dream about the tidy house.....) It's not that I thought that was bad. My mom stayed home and raised my brother and I all the way through high school without taking a job. She managed to stay active and productive and create a real HOME, somewhere I always felt safe and loved and listened to. I have always been very impressed with her for this in a world that may have been more hostile to homemakers then than it is even now. I don't know why I never invisioned myself doing the same thing; it's one of the few things I don't analyze completely into the ground. I don't know WHY to that either.

Anyway, my dream was to go to college (I LOVED schoolwork; not school, but schoolwork - I was a freak, I know.) Then I wanted to get some great job where I traveled for meetings, with great-looking, girly power suits and a sharp alligator-skin brief case. Maybe I would meet someone, and we would date forever, but probably not marry. (Don't ask about intimacy; I never bothered to factor that in to my plans. I was a teenager, O.K.? It was all going to be EASY!)

I am SO TREMENDOUSLY THANKFUL God knows this heart He made better than I do!!! He knew what He designed it for and what it would need to get there. And He turned all my best-laid (completely stupid unrealistic) plans right on their ego-pumped heads. I'll save all the details of our family development for another day, but He gave me these three great wonders of humanity and let me call them my children.

Since I was born, I have by nature been extremely diligent in whatever I set my mind to. If my mission was now Motherhood, it was never a question for me that this would be any different. The problem was, I didn't feel like I was very maternal by nature, so this became my fervent prayer. I listened to the sage advice of those who have long since left the baby-raising days. Too many of them offer it for it to not be true. "ENJOY YOUR CHILDREN" I purposed in my heart to ENJOY the cheerios on my carpet, the pudding prints on the wall, the incessant screaming to get my attention when I haven't responded within two seconds. REALLY! I went from extreme impatience to a lot more of it - all because God found it to be a worthy goal of my heart. I had to listen and obey, but HE bestowed these abilities upon me. It was a process. It took time and lots of prayer and Bible study and a purposeful retraining of my brain.

And now, just when I'm at the peak of love with this insane craziness that is my little people.....they are going to school. I relish the conversations we have every morning on the way there. And I feel an uneasy emptiness as they first leave to go to class.

I realize this could easily become co-dependence on my children for my self-worth if I am not careful. God asked me to quit homeschooling in part because that was much of my reasoning for doing it. I know I have talents and service to explore outside of being "Mommy" to my children, but why now? Why didn't I have this longing and confidence at the beginning, before making so very many mistakes? Why is it so true what "THEY" always say - that as mothers our calling is "work ourselves out of a job?" I love this job! I don't WANT to ever finish it. And I know I never really will entirely. I know because I STILL need my mother more than I bother to tell her. But TIME is such a precious, rare, priceless commodity. I wish I could take each wonderful phase my children encounter (the one RIGHT NOW is ALWAYS the best one!) and bottle them up forever and ever and ever?!

Yes, each precious passing moment is unique, special, and can never ever again be returned. No one can find it in the street and bring it to my door. Too much time is wasted in this world. Time spent on work, traded for money. Time spent on fears, traded for wimpy choices. Time spent on doubt, traded for discontent. Time spent on me, traded for the hurt of those around me. I believe this is one of the world's biggest problems. Poorly spent time. I believe it is one of life's greatest temptations and one of an individual's most difficult balancing acts. Given two or three choices of well-spent time (husband or children, church or family, personal study or fellowship), how do you choose? How much time - and when - do they each receive their due attention? Of all the commodities we are given in this life - finances, education, even wisdom and beauty, I wouldn't trade time for any one of them. God, please help me to make CONSISTENTLY wise use of my time.