The Hardest Days...

... are not when my calendar is full to the bursting.

When my car is overflowing with water bottles and soccer balls and after-game snacks.
When my gas tank is perpetually emptying and my knuckles are sore from gripping the steering wheel nervously... navigating to far distant fields.
When the littlest nods his head sleepily, yet another nap taken "on the go."
When my house reflects the chaos of 15-minute meals
When we trade school bags for soccer bags, heading out into the muggy Texas twilight...

No, those are not the hardest days.

The hardest days are those I spend at home, catching up and trying to make sense of the rhythm and rhyme of having half of my children in school, and half at home.
Laundry, cleaning, baking... all happen in one fell swoop.
And it's overwhelming.

Especially when I go to make buns for dinner and find that our flour has been seriously depleted due to the over-zealous zuccini-bread-baking of Little Dear.
Or when I realize that showering takes precedence to a quick run-for-flour to the grocery store. (y'all know how *that* goes, right?)
Or the week-long feverish Little Dude... a time where I must sit and rock and sit and rock, while chaos reigns.
When Little Love's  fragile heart has been wounded, once again, by the short-tempered Little Boo's complete intolerance for mess.
When my own heart aches for understanding and grasps for charity.
Sigh.
It's a lesson in patience.


The hardest days are those I will myself through. To banish the thoughts of perfection never reached.
To ignore the whispers of not-good-enough.

These are the days I stand face-to-face with my own self and dig deeper and try harder than it seems possible.

It's the hidden struggle I fear most. The one that assails my thoughts and threatens to shipwreck my heart.

On those days I am so grateful for the companions I have here on earth, who help me along to my heavenly goal.  Andrew, who listens to my frustrations, wipes away my tears, and steadies me.  My dearest friend, who patiently listens, sympathizes, and then reminds me of the bigger picture.

The hardest days are what make me feel the most blessed.

Daybook: On a Cold Monday Evening

Noticing God's Glory~

One more cold evening... at least for the week. It's funny how it doesn't get super dark these nights. Almost like you could play outside at 9pm, just like in the summer. Very strange.


Listening To~

Erm. Party Rock Anthem. It's kitchen clean up time.
;)



Clothing myself in~

American Eagle Artist jeans, scoop-neck shirt, cowboy boots. Pearl earrings and hair down.
I'm also nursing a Smirnoff. It's been a day.


Giving thanks for~

Heated homes. Food aplenty. DH's job.  I saw a woman rummaging through the recycling bags set out for collection today, looking for cans to redeem. Made me sad, and very grateful.


Pondering prayerfully~

God does not show Himself equally to all creatures. This does not mean that He has favorites, that He decides to help some and to abandon others, but the difference occurs because it is impossible for Him to manifest Himself to certain hearts under the conditions they set up. The sunlight plays no favorites, but its reflection is very different on a lake and on a swamp.    ~Fulton Sheen

Trying so hard to be that crystal clear lake.


Turning the pages~

Five for Sorrow, Ten For Joy.  For bookclub.



Thinking thoughts as I go about my day~

I had a New Year's resolution this year. I still do have it. Surprise, surprise. :)
It is "To do all things well."
I have a tendency to declare good enough and move on. Given my vocation and how crazy it can be around here, there are many times I need to declare good enough and move on. I certainly can't afford perfectionism.
However, there are also times I declare good enough when it isn't even close to good enough.
Doing all things well does not mean perfectionism, but a focused, intentional way of living. To really think about what I am doing, who I am doing it for, and why.
All of my tasks should be done well.
And yes, it's harder than you think.
:)


Creating~

Order. As usual. It's a beast I contend with daily.


Learning lessons in~

Prudence. Holding my tongue. Keeping my trap shut? Yes, that's it.
Oh, and being cheerful about it.
:)


Encouraging learning~

Had to send a note to Little Boo's teacher. She's young, a bit inexperienced and was not being prudent in the classroom regarding Little Boo's difficulties with Math.
Now we are on the same page, and Little Boo should see some improvement in her understanding of this enigmatic subject. 
As always, I am very impressed with the school, it's teachers and administration. I try not to be the helicopter parent, and they bend over backwards to take care of concerns promptly.
It's really a win-win.



Carefully cultivating rhythm~

The re-entry for the school kids is hard at the end of a long day. I try to make it painless, but squabbles inevitably erupt. I know they need some down time, but they can't ignore their other siblings.
Any advice? 


In the kitchen~

DH is working late, so it's chicken nuggets and corn on the cob. I take it easy on these nights because, truly, they are never "easy."  


Loving the moments~

When I look up from my duties and see Little Dude being totally occupied by one of his older siblings. They play chase with him, or ball, or simply scoop him up and dance him around. And I think they enjoy it more than he does.
Yes, he is spoiled but you know what? So are they.
:)


Living the liturgy~

Lent is coming. And boy, do we ever need it.


Planning for the week ahead~

Tuesday Valentine parties... at school and at home. Funny how things are amped up for the at-home kids when the others are in school. Trying to keep that score sheet even... :P


Capturing the images of my days~


A little hockey lesson...

Plus some big sister time...

Equals...


One very happy Little Dude.

:)

Building Up

I just don't want to get in the way of who my kids are supposed to be. 


An older mom in my bookclub summed up her parenting philosophy in this one sentence. She, who has 2 daughters married, 4 grandchildren, and her youngest a mere 8 years old, is always someone I keep tabs on. I listen extra hard when she speaks. I like her family, love her kids, and want to know more, always more. But she is reluctant. She doesn't have all the answers...


Not a single one of us does.


I look back at the early years with my most erm... challenging.... child. That would be Little Boo.

She entered the world innocently enough.


Then, as she grew older, and her personality emerged, she totally rocked it.

She became THAT child.

The child who needed to push the buttons on the microwave to warm her bottle.
The child who would put her own shirt on, backwards if need be thankyouverymuch.

The child who could feed herself, climb up and down from the table by herself, and wash her hands... all by herself.

The child who insisted on buckling herself in her car seat. Even though she had tried 24 times to do it and failed. Even though her siblings were ready to scream in frustration. Even though her mom wanted to leave, no one was allowed to MOVE (esp the car... don't even THINK about inching down the driveway while she's attempting time #25...) until she is securely buckled. (damn those 3-point harnesses)

THAT was my Little Boo.

And now....

Now, my Little Boo is a true joy, genuinely funny, and a real help. She comes out with the best comments. She has a hilarious outlook on life. She was a huge help with Little Dude during his fussiest moments. And lately, she has been known to come home from school, dump her stuff in the home school room, and scrub the entire kitchen top to bottom. Just because she wanted to.

How did this metamorphosis occur?

I wish I had an answer. I wish I could say I followed thus and such philosophy of parenting. I wish I could point you to THAT book that was the key to our seeming (read: insert huge disclaimer here) success.

It was nothing I did. I think it was more what I didn't do.

I went with it. Whatever she thought she could do, as long as it wasn't dangerous, I let her do it.
Case in point...  At the age of 2, she was climbing in and out of her crib at 3 in the morning, turning all the lights on in the house and playing. To me, that was dangerous. She could have probably opened the front door and walked down the street. So, we bought a crib tent and zipped her in it every night.
But by the age of 3 and a half? She slept on the top bunk of the bunk beds she shared with Little Dear. I knew she could climb steadily and would not fall. She was definitely the more sure-footed one of the two. And? She stayed in bed... no night time wanderings.

The car seat fiascos? Sigh. Yes.... every time we had to go somewhere, we got in the car 15 minutes before we had to leave just so she could buckle herself. I know some of you are shaking your heads... sucker, you are saying. Well, Little Boo would scream for HOURS if I buckled her in. Trust me, we tried quite a few times... and I do NOT exaggerate. It would be HOURS of shrill screaming. An extra 15 minutes was worth hours of peace and happiness, as far as I was concerned.

I guess my philosophy was a lot like the mom I admire. I didn't want to break Little Boo's spirit. I didn't want to mess it up. I wanted to form her and mold her as best as my fumbling hands could. 

I'm not perfect. I know there were things I could have done better. But God has abundantly blessed my meager efforts. Little Boo is a very driven little girl. She is super organized, and very diligent with her school work. So much so that putting her in school was a necessity. The fluidity of homeschooling would have killed her. It was, in fact, frustrating her to no end.

Her competitiveness is apparent on the soccer field. She plays on 2 teams, still. She loves it. And while she is competitive, she is also a fiercely loyal friend. If people are not kind, or the other team is too rough, she goes into defensive mode like nobody's business. She sticks up for her friends and gives back what the other team dishes out. She is not afraid to make a stand.

Her gentleness reveals itself in her ability to identify with others and their feelings. She is very sensitive, and sometimes with her hilarious comments and toughie exterior, I forget that. But she senses when others have been wronged, and comes to me... concerned. She doesn't always get it right. Sometimes she makes assumptions about intentions that aren't there... we are working on that. But at least her intuition is being honed. And I love that she feels comfortable enough to chat with me about it all.


They are all so delightfully unique. And there are no pat answers.
If you have your own Little Boo, and are in the thick of it... hang in there!
I know it can be daunting....

And yet... the peace of knowing that no matter what, God blesses our efforts, He knows our hearts...

When we get a glimpse of the fruits? It's such an awesome thing.

:)

When Approaching This Child... A Repost

from the archives...



Looking back at the change that has taken place in me these past 14 years, the transformation from a know-it-all college grad into a full-fledged mother... I am astounded.

Astounded that God has taken a self- absorbed, self-seeking individual and achieved a metamorphosis that seemed at one time to be impossible.

When DH and I were first married, it seemed a natural result of the love we had for each other, to extend it to a third party. Within our first month of marriage, we acquired a cat.

:)

To our defense, we were eager to have children, but God's timing was to postpone that event. Of course, He truly knew best. We conceived Action Man at the end of my first year teaching, and gave birth to him during my second year. I squeaked through that year, bringing him to school with me, directing the play, and just barely surviving the insanity of it all. DH graduated with his MBA, and I never worked outside of the home again.

My work took what I thought to be an alarming turn. You'd think that being the oldest of 6, I would have some sort of an inkling of what I was getting myself into.

Nope. I was pretty clueless. (remember how self-centered I said I was?? yeah. God had his work cut out for Him.)

And so, when Action Man reared his screaming head, I was stunned. I was even more flabbergasted when I realized that this screaming thing was here to stay. God had seen fit to bless my first born with a severe case of colic. Unable to nurse, spending gobs of money on formula, working my tail off while recovering from an emergency c-section, I was a wreck.

In short, God threw me to my knees.

Which is where He wanted me all along.

In blessing me with such a needy child, and then 2 more births in quick succession, God was going cold turkey on me in the selfishness cure. No "miracle patch" for me. No siree. I suddenly found myself surrounded by irrationality with no time to read, write or pee. My only vivid memory of that time was the three of them: Action Man, Sports Fan and Little Dear (ages almost 3, 1, and 2 months respectively) lined up on my bed, ready for their diaper change. Yes, three in diapers at once. It's quite a war story.

It's also a love story.

God was pursuing me. He sought to change me, to mold me into something better, a more productive worker for the harvest of souls. He knew that the only way he could force me outside of myself was to place a loved one in my care. And just for insurance, to place many little loved ones in my care. He knew that a mother cannot ignore the needs of her child. That the midnight wail, the hourly call to duty would not fail to re-mold a heart hardened by selfishness. That the first bend to another happens automatically in the will of a new mother. An eagerness to serve, to soothe the cries and nourish the heart, soul, and stomach of this precious child comes first without a second thought.

Until, overnight it seems, this clueless 20-something woman is transformed.

It is no wonder, then, that the awesomeness of God comes to us in the tender form of the infant Jesus. Who can deny Him his due? Who can turn away from His cries? Who can refuse Him?

“There is nothing more mysterious than infancy, nothing so small and yet so imperious. The infancy of Christ has opened a way to us by which we can surrender self to Him absolutely, without putting too much pressure on our weak human nature.”

(Wood of the Cradle, Wood of the Cross)

God, in His all-knowing, all-merciful way, chooses to come to us humbled and makes it easy for us to submit. He coaxes us to bend our ways ever so gently towards His will by having us first gaze into the eyes of the Christ-Child. We forget ourselves and all of our grandiose plans, and instead look for ways to please this most precious infant, even to the point of radically re-shaping our entire lives.

:)

Our Place of Refuge

I've written about our lake before.  And you all know how much we love to whip out there and spend some time in the sun...

But yesterday,  we had some introductions to make.

But Mom, Little Dude has been to the lake....

What a difference 3 months makes. Now he walks, and explores.
Back then, he nursed and slept.

He had not made a real friendship with our peaceful haven, yet.

But yesterday... he ventured out.  We even took off his shoes and let him feel the water and the mud. (yes, it's Texas... icky mud) He wasn't thrilled, preferring to stay on the pebbly sand.

He watched his siblings as they wound their way along the water's edge.

The lake level was low.  Very low. Nothing like getting back to nature to witness how bad the drought is, firsthand.

The kids examined the newly exposed sand, and what emerges when the layers of water are peeled back. A sobering experience, to be sure. But nature is always beautiful, and they came back jubilant with their treasures.

Fall in Texas is a time of brown colors and long shadows. Even in the height of the afternoon, the light is slanted and the sun has whitened.

This old Mama is learning, though. I'm learning to enjoy the seasons as they come.
I'm learning that we don't pass this way again.

We need to pause. We need to breathe it all in with everything we have.

:)

Guess Who Turns ONE Today...

I know. It's amazing.

Simply amazing how time flies...

:)

Regarding "Obli-cations"

DH answered the salesman's questions while I bounced Little Dude on my knees. We were just launching into our 90 minute presentation on "owning a piece of paradise"... just to get some free nights at Great Wolf Lodge for our peanuts.

Yes, we are nuts.  And NO. We will NEVER do that again. (because it took 3 hours... no joke. Ugh.)

Anyway... I was soundly ignoring Mr. Greasy-dude and concentrating on Mr. Cutie-Pie Little Dude when suddenly the Greasy Dude said something truly maddening. He dismissed our family vacations as OBLI-CATIONS.  As in, we are OBLIGATED to go VACATION with FAMILY.

Oh, horrors.

This guy was pitching water parks and sandy beaches just hours away.  Horseback rides and canoe trips, fully stocked kitchens and family time in a condo that is 1/3 the size of my house.

This guy didn't have a bloody clue what he was talking about.

Your poor kids, he said. Never went on a real vacation.

Excuse me?

No really. Are you serious, buddy? I almost spit my free coffee at him.

Our poor kids have seen more and done more than I ever did at their age. We have carted them through most of the U.S. -west of the Mississippi, and all courtesy of... family, and our horrific OBLI-CATIONS.

Hot Springs, skiing, Aquarium, Castle-hopping, sledding... all in Colorado.
The ocean, In-and-Out, Disneyland... in California.
Farms, friends, horses, goats... in Wisconsin.
Our amazing trip to CANADA this summer...kayaking, playing with cousins, jet-skiing, 4-wheeling, water parks, picnics, bon-fires, oh my gosh.... so much fun!

We are so lucky to have generous family and friends who live in such amazingly beautiful places, and encourage us to visit often. 

Our kids come away from every single trip with about a billion stories to tell. And they tell them for years.

Every place we visit is filled with people who love the kids, who play with them and listen to them.  They connect because we are family. And it is a joy to be with family.

When I picked the 3 kids up from school and explained where we had been all morning, they were indignant at the way Greasy Dude described our vacations. (Action Man very helpfully offered to go punch him in the face.) And they all wanted to go back and tell him exactly why he was so very wrong to make fun of our family vacations.

It was heartening to hear them jump to defend what we hold dear. And while I'm sure that someday we will be able to grab a week on the beach with "just us"... I'm happy to know that our crazy family road trips are carving out real memories.

And, yeah...  we'll take a rain-check on owning a bit of paradise.

Without all of our family around, it sounds kinda boring to us.


:)

Winter's Debut

I'm wearing my summer uniform.  Khaki shorts and cowl-neck sleeveless shirt. My crocs are well-worn, and my feet betray their roughness.  Too much exposure, too much sun... freckles abound on my skin.

It's been summer forever.

I hear the kids running around outside. The breeze has shifted today, ever so slowly, ever so subtly.  And now, at 7pm, there is a distinct chill in the air.

Little Dude toddles outside in his bare feet. Chubby legs take him all over the driveway, halting at the thick grass. He listens to the whoops from the backyard... eager to join in, unsure how.  He reaches back for my hand, confident that I will be there. Off we go, tromping through the grass to join the fun.

This is our last hurrah of summer. Homework has been shelved for this one final jaunt.  Pretty soon the darkness and the cold air will keep us in. Our temperature is expected to drop 30 degrees overnight tonight, and a chill steady rain will fall all day tomorrow.  Our nighttime romps will be replaced by fire-lit nights filled with hot tea.  No more will the boys try to outrun the girls, evading capture in the twilight.  The games will move to the warmth of rug and hearth. Of hot cocoa and popcorn. Of games and stories.

But tonight, the night is theirs. And they shout and run and breathe the summer air.

One last long breath.


:)

On My Mind

The person who thinks only of himself says only prayers of petition; the person who thinks of his neighbor says prayers of intercession; whoever thinks only of loving and serving God says prayers of abandonment to God's will, and this is the prayer of the saints.

~Fulton Sheen   

Dilemma

 Little Boo, on "What she wants to be when she grows up"

It's so hard to decide, mom.
And I only  have two choices! 

When I'm at school, I think I want to be a nun.

But when I'm playing soccer? 
I'm pretty sure I want to be a rock star.


:)