Default to Choas

We just finished a glorious, two and a half week Spring Break. I know, if you live in another state, that seems crazy. But, as a friend said yesterday, in Jackson, during mud-season, after the long winter (actually, we didn't have much winter at all this year) a long break is needed. It was so wonderful to have my girls home. To have no homework. To pack picnics instead of school lunches. To stay in jammies until ten. To let them play. We were gone for six days in Utah, and then spent the remainder at home.  The weather was pretty cruddy, but we managed a few bike rides, a hike, and some special girl outings: popcorn and the new Cinderella movie, a fancy lunch at a downtown restaurant, and a trip to the library.

I found myself thinking a lot about the daily routine of vacation, and how to provide balance in those lazy, carefree days. School (whether at home or away) provides so much structure. On a typical day, my little munchkins are at school from 8:15 - 3:20. When they get home, they have 1.5 - 2 hours of homework, so, between dinner, baths (okay, those only happen once a week!) bedtime stories, and a few chores, there is very little free playtime.  When they were on break, I found myself just wanting to let them be. To let them keep the sleepy snaggles in their bedraggled hair, and not make them get dressed until they decided it was time to put on dress-up clothes for whatever game they were engaged in.  I didn't want to impose a schedule. But you know what happens? At least in my house? 

Free play gradually unravels into utter chaos. And then Mommy has to firmly reestablish some boundaries.  We have to get dressed. We have to brush our teeth. And I have to organize and direct some sort of productive activity in order to regain order and control in our wild house.

Does that happen in your homes? Oh, freedom is good. Our little ones need to learn to play. On their own. Imaginatively. Together. But, too much freedom is not good. Because the game of "Little House on the Prairie" becomes dresses strewn across bedrooms and breadcrumbs in empty bureau drawers. And fighting children who just want to drink cocoa in their bedrooms, not pretend to be children from another time period. I find my silverware under the bed, and a box of just-organized 3T clothes scattered hither and yon.  I realize someone put an old diaper on the littlest one - because they were playing she was the baby. 

So, how do you find balance? How do you allow for free play and spontaneity and joy - while still implementing a gentle and life-giving structure in your home?  I was processing all of this, and thinking ahead to summer.  I am so happy I will have time with my girls and we will play outside and adventure together.  But, I know that, for all of us to stay sane, we have to have a bit of a routine.

Maybe it starts with getting dressed. Making beds. Combing hair. Maybe it's a few morning tasks to check off on a list before they can play. Maybe it's lining up time slots for particular activities - and limiting the free for all to certain times of the day. Maybe it's the afternoon reading time that anchors the day.

Motherhood always seems to throw new challenges at us, doesn't it? In the next weeks, I am going to spend time pondering how to best provide a gentle rhythm for our summer - tethered by chores and jobs and planned adventures and books.  I know my girls need clear expectations and a bit of flexible structure, or we will just default to chaos.  And I don't like chaos. :) 

How do you structure "off" days for your kiddos? What are the secrets to managing your home life well during seasons of greater freedom? Any thoughts?

Utah

 Just a couple photos from our Spring Break camping trip to Utah...  warm sun, red rock, dust, and strong-legged, brave-hearted daughters.

 From my vantage point, the arch they were standing on looked about six inches wide. Erik said it was actually wide enough to pitch a tent on.  Not much comfort to my quaking heart at that moment - watching my precious girls totter hundreds of feet over solid ground...  but I trust my man!

 Five silly ladies and one twenty-four week bulge whose gender and name remain unknown!

 Slot canyons!

Guacamole

Last night, good friends invited us for dinner at their home. Elizabeth was planning enchiladas, I made cookies, and the warm spring weather beckoned kids to frolic in the yard. It promised to be a fun evening. And it was. Six girls…swinging from trees, splashing in the hot tub, and giggling.

As mamas, though, you never know when the sweetness of a spring evening is going to plummet into ugliness. We can’t always predict what is going to tip our well-mannered giggle-boxes off the edge of reason into full-blown tantrum mode.

Last night, it was guacamole. A thin layer of sauce made from mild guacamole covered the chicken enchiladas.  And I have one daughter (she’ll remain nameless) who does not care for avocados in any shape or form. I have to admit, I don’t like them either. The slimy texture and bland flavor kind of turn my stomach, too. But, Erik and I are firm believers that our little ones need to learn how to receive hospitality with graciousness. We want them, in every situation, to be able to eat whatever is put in front of them – even if their portion is small. I need to know that if I send a child to a friend’s for supper, and I am not there, they will eat the food provided with a grateful heart, even if it is unfamiliar or distasteful to them.  It’s important. We have gone over those rules of manners and thankfulness often. And they understand our reasoning.  The stakes get higher as they get older. It might be a meal offered in the context of a faraway culture, and the gracious enjoyment of it might open doors to share the gospel.  It might be a formal dinner, where their manners make a lasting impression. It might even be the first meal with their future husband! Ya just open your mouth, take small bites, and ya swallow. It’s a simple way to honor the gift someone has given by preparing or providing a meal for you.

So, last night, a small piece of enchilada was placed on my daughter’s plate. She was asked to eat a few bites with a thankful heart and a cheerful attitude.

And she didn’t do it. Instead, she scowled and growled and made faces and grumbled rudely. She spent time upstairs, away from the other children, pondering how she could best honor and respect her kind host. How she could demonstrate love and thankfulness even over a plate of mashed avocados. After many minutes away from the table, she returned with even more scowling and rude comments. Another time-out upstairs, another soft-spoken admonition from her mama, and a less soft one from her daddy. Finally, she swallowed one measly bite.  But because of her continued, wrong attitude as she choked it down, Erik removed her plate and would not allow her to eat any of the side dishes or dessert.

And then the wailing and screaming began. Erik took our daughter out to the car while I apologized to my friend and gathered our other three kiddos from the playroom.

As I told Elizabeth, we could have avoided the whole ugly scene by allowing her to skip the enchiladas and just eat a plate of salad. But, once the rule was set forth, our consistency was demanded. We had to follow through with gentle, but firm, resolve.

As I thought about it later, I realized, too, that it is good to have friends with whom you can practice these important life skills. Friends who will forgive rude behavior and a spoiled dinner, knowing that next time, it might be their child who needs some careful training in the midst of a social event.  Friends who support the training you are trying to do with your kiddos – the raising up of godly men and women. Not everyone would agree, I am sure, but to us, this is a big enough issue to fight a gnarly battle over. That plate of guacamole is important.

The consequence: it will be a long while before this child can accept an invitation to dinner at a friend’s home without her mama or daddy. She lost our trust last night. She will have to show a renewed commitment to politeness and cheerful thankfulness in several supervised settings before we can allow her the privilege of enjoying a meal with friends unattended.

The grace: a bowl of chocolate malt-o-meal for breakfast. And a lunchbox full of things I know she will eat, including the oatmeal cookie she missed out on yesterday.

How do you handle these issues in your home?

Who is Jesus?

Early yesterday morning, as her older sisters savored the last moments of school-day slumber, and I emptied the dishwasher in preparation for the load of dirty breakfast dishes I would soon fill it with, little Hope toddled about my legs, hugging me, laughing, and carrying on a lisped and joyful conversation.

I laughed with her. "Hope-girl, who loves you, sweet one?" 

She tipped her head back. "Mommy loves me."  She grinned.  "And Jesus." 

I smiled back at her.  "Jesus loves you so much! Even more than Mommy does.  Who is Jesus, little one?" 

She wrinkled her cute nose. "I tan't answer you dat, Mommy." 

I laughed.  Oh, how I laughed.  

Of course she couldn't answer that.  She's barely two.  She knows Jesus loves her, because I tell her every day.  She knows the Bible is all about Jesus, and she loves to read stories from the Jesus Calling Bible we bought her for her birthday.   But, she doesn't know how to answer the question, "who is Jesus?" She doesn't have a face or personality to match the concept.  

"I tan't answer you dat, Mommy." 

My precious girl.  

I was praying this morning, curled up on the window seat this time, asking God to help me see Him.  To know Him.  To really have genuine intimacy with Him and to know His heart.  It is easy to go through the motions of the Christian faith, but do we really know Jesus? As we study Scripture, do we see God's character? Do we learn of who He is and grow to love Him more?  Or do we just check a chapter off our day's to-do?

God's character is unfathomable.  I attempted to write a chapter a few months ago about who God is, and why He is worthy of our fear.   But I realized my words were so feeble!  God's bigness is not describable! He is set-apart, so different from us.   He is perfect, and good, and so merciful and kind that we can't begin to understand.  We can't wrap up a description of our great God in concise, tidy terms.   

Like Hope, we have to admit, "I can't answer that." 

But, let's try! Let's dive deep.  Let's ask God to reveal Himself to us as we study His Word, as we pray.  Let us seek knowing God - and loving Him more, every day. 

Perfection vs. Holiness

This morning, sitting in pre-dawn chill with my cup of milky tea and my books spread helter-skelter over the glossy wood of our farmhouse-style table, I felt the Lord press onto my open heart new words for an old struggle.   

“Do you see the ways you are still focusing on external perfection, instead of internal holiness?” the Spirit nudged my heart. 

My heart beat faster as that clear phrase clicked in my muddied early morning thoughts.  The puzzle pieces snapped together. 

Yes.  That is what I do.  It is what I have done since I was a small girl, and it is what I still do, today.  

I have been the cup – the one scrubbed spotless on the outside and yet ringed with oily filth on the inside. 

I have spotless kitchen counters.  And I have jumbled, disorderly dresser drawers. 

I was the girl who cared more about the report card “A” than about having knowledge and wisdom stored in my head and heart.

And I am still the one who struggles with wanting my kiddos to be “good” so that others will think I am a good parent. 

I beg God – daily – to remake my heart, to purify my motives, and make me care only about His glory – not my own. 

But old habits die hard, and I still want to be perfect. 

It’s funny… the things God uses to refine our hearts.   I knew that I would wrestle with putting my kids in school for the first time.  I have been their only teacher, and anything they don’t know, any areas they are behind in, point to my deficiencies.  If they are not perfect, it means that I am not either. 

Believe me, I know I am not.  And I know they are not.  But it’s easy to want to be a cup, scrubbed clean. 

The writing project that has kept me for so long away from blogging is about shedding the fear of man by growing a right fear of the Lord.  I have studied, researched, read, and prayed my way through this topic in the last nine months.  But I haven’t conquered it.   I still chase after “looking good,” when I should be pursuing inner holiness.  

It doesn’t matter if my sweet girls score a perfect grade on a math test.  It doesn’t matter if toys mutate and reproduce on my stained carpet before I have a chance to clean them up.  God doesn’t demand worldly perfection from us.  He doesn’t ask us to be the best at everything.  He doesn’t require that we vacuum our floors after every meal or that we never flub a phonics quiz. 

He wants our hearts.  He wants them to be pure, set-apart for His use.  He wants us to confess our sins, receive His forgiveness, and rest in His grace.  He wants us to pursue holiness, honesty, humility, and love.  The untidy heap of shoes in my entryway is not a sin.  My attitude about it might be. 

Life is not always going to come easy – for me, or my kids. There are things we are going to struggle with – whether it is math, or reading, or athletics, or crocheting (I can’t seem to learn).  We aren’t perfect. 

And we aren’t called to be.  We are called to be holy.   

There is a difference. 

First Week of School

So... obviously I am not keeping up with the blog. :) Yup, life happens.  I decided to start a larger writing project, and I have not been doing any short posts.  I will let you know when that project is done.  

But, I did want to post pictures of my girls on the morning of their first day of school.  Most of you know that our older two are attending a private classical school this year.  They are loving it! They have wonderful teachers, small classes (Sadie's is 9 kids, Ellie's is 10), and rich curriculum.  I am already seeing improvement in some of Elisa's struggle areas.  We have had some tough homework moments -- but we are working out the kinks in a new schedule.  This is all new to me, too! The breakfasts, the lunches to pack, the scurry...  the afternoon welcome and the need to transfer to my attention from little ones who have had all of me, all day, onto big ones who suddenly need me - and who I have missed! 

You will notice that Raina tried hard to match the big girls' uniforms for the first day.   You might also notice that Sadie-girl cut her hair eight days before the start of school.  Growing out bangs, now. :)  

We are thankful and excited for the year ahead!

Hope-isms

My sweet Hope is getting big.  She is a constant source of laughter at our house, as her vocabulary and understanding grow daily.  Quickly -- a few favorites. 

Hope loves to write.  She scribbles and scribbles and tells me over and over, "I, I, A, A, O."  Then she will hand me a pen and say, "Hopie," indicating that I should write her name for her on the page.  

She loves her sissies.  If she is up first, she will walk around saying, "Ell-yee, Sa-dee, Rain-ee," until her three sisters all join her downstairs. 

She is a little selfish with her mama's attention and pushes anyone else out of my lap. "Yappee!" 

She likes Bibles. "Bib-ee."  All other books are "read-ee." 

She calls any thing with a button a "beep." 

She tells her sisters when they should say sorry.  If someone is mean, she will say, "mean." And then point and say "Yorry." 

She likes sharing a room with Raina.  It has made going to bed much easier for her. 

She doesn't like to be dirty. "Dir-tee! Wite!" 

She always wants to drink  "tea." Luckily, she is just as happy with a cup of warm water as she is with real tea.  She usually gets warm water and a splash of milk. 

She is not used to having a bit warmer weather, and still wants a hat, mittens and boots to go outside, even if we are all in shirtsleeves.  And, okay, today it is snowing. 

Loving life with my littles!