I can't sleep. It's 3:30 in the morning, and I'm wide awake.
So, I guess I'll write in a stream of consciousness about my day.
Nursed baby
Awoke on time
Showered
Nursed baby
Woke up family
Bo heated up spaghetti
Made garlic bread
Yes, this was breakfast
Got out muffin batter
Made bran muffins
Bathed Sweetheart
Curled Sweetheart's hair
Fixed Bard's hair. Says she doesn't know how to use curling iron or straightener. Child will NOT be driving a car anytime in the next ten years.
Listened to Sweetheart ask if her hair was still curled
Nursed baby
Filled water bottles
Gathered all my shtuff
Got in van
Called MIL. Nice chat.
We all went to town
Dropped Bo off at work
Went to magic shop
Watched cool magic tricks
Bought cool magic tricks
Told Houdin he has to make some of his own tricks
Went to chocolate factory
Got some goodies
Picked up FreeCycle stuff--shoes.
Put brown shoes on
Went to Chick Fil A
Kids played
Went to PetSmart
Looked at fish
Bought guinea pig hut
Bought guinea pig chewies
Houdin found cool palm tree for fish tank
Told Houdin to save money for cool palm tree for fish tank
Visited with adoptable pets.
Told kids, "No, we can't have another dog/cat/whatever."
Went to Jo Ann ETC
Wandered helplessly through aisles
Bought paper to make valentines
Paper is expensive
Asked Monet if he would paint me a picture
Bought huge canvas and paints for Monet to paint me a picture
Let Monet pick out paintbrushes (on sale)
Went to Sam's Club
Kids all got along well
Shopped WITH a list
Lady at checkout asked if kids were "all mine."
Lady's jaw dropped.
Lady at checkout asked Bard where she goes to school.
Bard told lady she was homeschooled.
Discussion about expense of public school
Picked up Bo from work
Took kids to choir
Bo and I drive to shopping district
Went to Dollar Tree. Bought some gifts
Went to Sam's Club again. More gifts.
Bo is hungry. Off to Baja Fresh
Awesome guacamole
Drank Mountain Dew, against my better judgement
Picked up kids
Drove home. Had discussion about Houdin's magic. Kid at choir grabbed one of his tricks and tore it. Doggone kids.
Discussed Las Angeles vs Las Vegas.
Discussed largest city, according to population
Discussed world's tallest buildings
Discussed largest man-made thing
Monet says, "The world is the largest man-made thing."
Everyone disagrees.
Monet asks about God. "Is God a man?"
Discussed language of Bible.
Monet asks if God is everything.
Bard says, "God isn't everything, but God made everything and is in everything."
Bard talks about God. "He's like those labels that say, 'Contains 100% juice.' Doesn't mean it *is* 100% juice. Just that it *contains* 100% juice. Everything contains God."
Got home
Cleaned out van
Put away groceries
Peed
Nursed Baby
Blogged
Read blogs
Argued with Bard about monetary system. Made her mad.
Nursed Baby
Got hug from Bard
Listened to Bard complain about lost library card
Blogged
Read blogs
Went to talk to Bard about lost library card.
Blogged
Read blogs
Busted my dad for eating valentine's gift.
Played way too much Zork or something or other thanks to Grouchy Old Yorkie Lady.
Still up. Should be sleeping.
Check clock. 3:52.
This is nuts.
Going to bed.
Against my better judgement, publishing this post.
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
My Big Fat Teased Hair
According to Cattiva over at Does This Mean I'm a Grown-Up, big hair is, well...big.
Or at least it's heading in that direction.
I'm marching my little hair right back over to No-Internal-Organs-Girl to demand a set and great big fat tease.
Time to bust out the Aqua Net Industrial Strength Hold. Unscented, please.
Or at least it's heading in that direction.
I'm marching my little hair right back over to No-Internal-Organs-Girl to demand a set and great big fat tease.
Time to bust out the Aqua Net Industrial Strength Hold. Unscented, please.
Monday, February 07, 2005
More Questions, More Answers...
You can read here to see the original post and find out why I'm answering these questions.
From lovedesign:
1. What's your favorite animal?
Probably a dog. Not very original, I know, but dogs are so cool. Of course, I've never met a monkey, but if I had, that would probably be my favorite. I've always wanted a monkey.
2. What's your favorite season and why?
I think it's a toss-up between Spring and Fall. I love Spring because I can start growing stuff. I love Fall because the colors are so warm and gorgeous. Then again, I love Winter because I'm a Christmas freak. And I love Summer because it's a great time to learn stuff with the kids. Wow. That was so extremely helpful, wasn't it?
3. If you had one entire day and had to spend it alone... what would you do?
Uh...HAD to spend it alone??? Don't you mean GOT to spend it alone? ;-)
I think I would hit just about every yummy yarn store I could find, and then a few pottery and antique shops, and then the bookstore. I'd probably hit T.J. Maxx, Marshalls and Steinmart, too. I would go and visit one of my favorite friends (but then I wouldn't be alone anymore...hmmm), eat at Panera Bread, see a movie, and then go home to do some whimming. "Whimming" is when you just do anything you feel like doing, whether it's eBaying, baking, blogging, messing with pictures in Elements, cooking a gourment meal, knitting, reading or soaking in the tub. :-)
******************************************************************************************
From Reverend Mommy:
1. What moment in your life would you like to live over and change?
Each child's birth. I would take more photos, journal about it, and pay closer attention.
2. How is your faith different than other people's?
I saw a sign today that said, "Thank God for what hasn't happened to you!" I guess my faith differs in that I don't really think that God punishes us, but that things happen for a reason. I think that there are consequences to our actions and that there are certain bad things that happen in our lives because of those consequences, whether the actions were our own or someone else's. I also don't feel that we have to go around converting people all day. I believe that we are to preach the gospel daily, with our lives, and do it as we go into all of the world. Finally, I think that tithing to a church is off the mark. Scripture says that we are to give to the widows and the orphans. I think that's probably the exception in most churches rather than the rule.
3. If you were part of dinner, would you be salad, main course or dessert?
I'd probably be the salad, kind of a bunch of stuff mixed together and tossed around. It's the thing that's best for you, but you probably wouldn't just choose it. It's fresh, light, and green. :-) How's that? HA!
From lovedesign:
1. What's your favorite animal?
Probably a dog. Not very original, I know, but dogs are so cool. Of course, I've never met a monkey, but if I had, that would probably be my favorite. I've always wanted a monkey.
2. What's your favorite season and why?
I think it's a toss-up between Spring and Fall. I love Spring because I can start growing stuff. I love Fall because the colors are so warm and gorgeous. Then again, I love Winter because I'm a Christmas freak. And I love Summer because it's a great time to learn stuff with the kids. Wow. That was so extremely helpful, wasn't it?
3. If you had one entire day and had to spend it alone... what would you do?
Uh...HAD to spend it alone??? Don't you mean GOT to spend it alone? ;-)
I think I would hit just about every yummy yarn store I could find, and then a few pottery and antique shops, and then the bookstore. I'd probably hit T.J. Maxx, Marshalls and Steinmart, too. I would go and visit one of my favorite friends (but then I wouldn't be alone anymore...hmmm), eat at Panera Bread, see a movie, and then go home to do some whimming. "Whimming" is when you just do anything you feel like doing, whether it's eBaying, baking, blogging, messing with pictures in Elements, cooking a gourment meal, knitting, reading or soaking in the tub. :-)
******************************************************************************************
From Reverend Mommy:
1. What moment in your life would you like to live over and change?
Each child's birth. I would take more photos, journal about it, and pay closer attention.
2. How is your faith different than other people's?
I saw a sign today that said, "Thank God for what hasn't happened to you!" I guess my faith differs in that I don't really think that God punishes us, but that things happen for a reason. I think that there are consequences to our actions and that there are certain bad things that happen in our lives because of those consequences, whether the actions were our own or someone else's. I also don't feel that we have to go around converting people all day. I believe that we are to preach the gospel daily, with our lives, and do it as we go into all of the world. Finally, I think that tithing to a church is off the mark. Scripture says that we are to give to the widows and the orphans. I think that's probably the exception in most churches rather than the rule.
3. If you were part of dinner, would you be salad, main course or dessert?
I'd probably be the salad, kind of a bunch of stuff mixed together and tossed around. It's the thing that's best for you, but you probably wouldn't just choose it. It's fresh, light, and green. :-) How's that? HA!
Those were the days...
Remember the Marathon Bar?
Man, there was nothing in the world like walking into Lawson's with a whopping fifteen cents in my pocket. No question about what I'd get. It was a no-brainer.
The marathon bar had all of my favorite stuff. Gooey caramel. Lots of chocolate. And it would take days to eat it because it was, like, three feet long. A real kid's candy bar.
For fifteen cents, it was the best deal going. No, it wasn't just a deal. It was a STEAL!
Okay, so it was only eight inches long. And there's some talk that it wasn't any better of a deal than any other candy bar. They SAY that because it was all braided (which is the other thing that made it way mobie cool), it was mostly air and didn't weigh any more than any of the other candy bars. That's why they SAY they stopped making it. They SAY it's because parents all around the world refused to believe what an awesome deal The Marathon Bar was, and sales just didn't cut it, so Mars stopped making the best candy bar in the world. I think it's because they realized what a steal it was and couldn't handle losing any more money to all of the wisest shoppers.
I was twelve. That's when my childhood ended.
I never understood the appeal of Mallow Cups or Chunky Bars or Three Musketeers. And Toffee Fay. Ugh. That's another story completely. "Too good for kids." Harumph. Don't even get me started on that crock.
Oh, but to go home with a three-foot-long Marathon Bar...sigh. Those were the days.
Man, there was nothing in the world like walking into Lawson's with a whopping fifteen cents in my pocket. No question about what I'd get. It was a no-brainer.
The marathon bar had all of my favorite stuff. Gooey caramel. Lots of chocolate. And it would take days to eat it because it was, like, three feet long. A real kid's candy bar.
For fifteen cents, it was the best deal going. No, it wasn't just a deal. It was a STEAL!
Okay, so it was only eight inches long. And there's some talk that it wasn't any better of a deal than any other candy bar. They SAY that because it was all braided (which is the other thing that made it way mobie cool), it was mostly air and didn't weigh any more than any of the other candy bars. That's why they SAY they stopped making it. They SAY it's because parents all around the world refused to believe what an awesome deal The Marathon Bar was, and sales just didn't cut it, so Mars stopped making the best candy bar in the world. I think it's because they realized what a steal it was and couldn't handle losing any more money to all of the wisest shoppers.
I was twelve. That's when my childhood ended.
I never understood the appeal of Mallow Cups or Chunky Bars or Three Musketeers. And Toffee Fay. Ugh. That's another story completely. "Too good for kids." Harumph. Don't even get me started on that crock.
Oh, but to go home with a three-foot-long Marathon Bar...sigh. Those were the days.
Sunday, February 06, 2005
The Questions and The Answers
Three Questions from ImpromptuMom over at Confessions of a Happy Housewife
What vegetable do you think you look most like?
A red onion, because onions have layers.
What is the best gift someone has ever given you?
There were two, both from my husband. The first was for my birthday, when he got down on one knee and sang me Elton John's Your Song, which I have always felt was my song. While he sang, he gave me gifts that were appropriate to the verses--pottery (for "sculptor"), bath oils and soaps in cool bottles for "potions," etc. He ended it with "how wonderful life is since you're in my world." Very, very memorable.
The other was when we were living at the cabin and he took me out to the tub on the porch on Christmas Eve. Above the tub were six star candleholders, suspended from the porch roof, all lit with tealights. It was absolutely magical.
Where would you most like to visit if you were not constrained by money, time, or era?
I think I would like to go to Hollywood in the forties and attend all of the gala events. It seems like such a grand time, and I think I would get addicted to that lifestyle very quickly, whereas I'm not very interested in Hollywood parties in the current era.
**********************************************************************************
From Mamageph over at Still Odd:
1. If you had to live in another country for 4 years before returning, where would you choose? Why? (BTW, the kids and husband are coming, too.)
What vegetable do you think you look most like?
A red onion, because onions have layers.
What is the best gift someone has ever given you?
There were two, both from my husband. The first was for my birthday, when he got down on one knee and sang me Elton John's Your Song, which I have always felt was my song. While he sang, he gave me gifts that were appropriate to the verses--pottery (for "sculptor"), bath oils and soaps in cool bottles for "potions," etc. He ended it with "how wonderful life is since you're in my world." Very, very memorable.
The other was when we were living at the cabin and he took me out to the tub on the porch on Christmas Eve. Above the tub were six star candleholders, suspended from the porch roof, all lit with tealights. It was absolutely magical.
Where would you most like to visit if you were not constrained by money, time, or era?
I think I would like to go to Hollywood in the forties and attend all of the gala events. It seems like such a grand time, and I think I would get addicted to that lifestyle very quickly, whereas I'm not very interested in Hollywood parties in the current era.
**********************************************************************************
From Mamageph over at Still Odd:
1. If you had to live in another country for 4 years before returning, where would you choose? Why? (BTW, the kids and husband are coming, too.)
England. I'd love to catch that awesome accent and become tons smarter. The British are smarter, right?
2. It's the end of a stressful day. Do you pet the cat backwards, or chase down the kids and put your cold hands in their pits?
Ummm...take a hot bath with a good book?
3. You've got a big refrigerator box. Inside are ten posessions you can not live without. What are they?
My Bible. My computer. My checkbook. My recipes and cookbooks. My camera. My photos. My journal. A pencil. My library card. A magical genie to get the rest of my stuff and give me whatever I want.
The Snow Fort
A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about my boys and their snowfort. Now, for your viewing pleasure, a rare moment of my two sons actually getting along.
The builders
The builders
The building
If you read this...
From Reverend Mommy's Random Thoughts: Reverend Mommy got this from Michael at Bloggin' Idiot who passed it to Fish and Liesa and who got it from Unspace who got from Therapy Failed who got it from Dell who stole it from Stacey who lifted it from Big Orange Michael who borrowed it from All Things Jen(nifer) who picked it up at Master Foley's Blog:
First, recommend to me:
1. A movie:
2. A book:
3. A musical artist, song, or album:
Next, I want everyone who reads this to ask me three questions, no more, no less. Ask me anything you want. (I will respond in subsequent posts. I reserve the right to not answer questions that might hurt someone else or that might be grossly inappropriate for my blog.)
Then, I want you to go to your blog, copy and paste this allowing your friends to ask you anything they want!
First, recommend to me:
1. A movie:
2. A book:
3. A musical artist, song, or album:
Next, I want everyone who reads this to ask me three questions, no more, no less. Ask me anything you want. (I will respond in subsequent posts. I reserve the right to not answer questions that might hurt someone else or that might be grossly inappropriate for my blog.)
Then, I want you to go to your blog, copy and paste this allowing your friends to ask you anything they want!
Saturday, February 05, 2005
Cheese in Your Crown
Setting: Our house. Having friends over for a pizza party and games. Our family is standing back to allow guests to serve themselves first. All except Monet. He jumps in line.
Me: Whoa, young man. You have to stand back and let guests serve themselves first. You can go when they're done.
Monet: Aw, man! Then all the cheese pizza will be gone!
Me: (Pulling Monet aside and whispering in his ear) Let me tell you a little secret. The Bible says that the first shall be last and the last shall be first.
Monet: What does that mean?
Me: Well, I think it means that if you rush in and try to be first, then what you get right then is your reward.
Monet: Yeah...?
Me: But if you wait patiently, then you may not get what the others get, but your reward will be much, much greater.
Monet: Yeahhhh...?
Me: So, you'll get, like, extra jewels in your crown in heaven.
Monet: Ooo-kay. That's great, Mom. But I all I wanted was a piece of cheese pizza.
Me: Whoa, young man. You have to stand back and let guests serve themselves first. You can go when they're done.
Monet: Aw, man! Then all the cheese pizza will be gone!
Me: (Pulling Monet aside and whispering in his ear) Let me tell you a little secret. The Bible says that the first shall be last and the last shall be first.
Monet: What does that mean?
Me: Well, I think it means that if you rush in and try to be first, then what you get right then is your reward.
Monet: Yeah...?
Me: But if you wait patiently, then you may not get what the others get, but your reward will be much, much greater.
Monet: Yeahhhh...?
Me: So, you'll get, like, extra jewels in your crown in heaven.
Monet: Ooo-kay. That's great, Mom. But I all I wanted was a piece of cheese pizza.
Battling the Demons
Being a mother is THE hardest thing I've ever done or will ever do in my whole life.
When I was a child, my parental examples were rather limited. My mother was often incapacitated by health issues or caught up in her neat-freak habits or in the funky depths of depression. My father hid himself away in his work, his bedroom, or his sarcasm, not attending my birthday parties, track meets or softball games. From a young age, I determined that, should I have kids, I would do better.
Still, my mom was a tough act to follow. Even with her foul mouth and cargo-hold full of childhood baggage, she was an awesome mother. She sewed, crocheted, gardened and canned. She cooked, volunteered, told stories and wrote books. She was the Brownie leader, the room mother, the softball coach and the D.C. trip chaperone. She organized the yearly beggar's night, took me to dance classes, watched my play rehearsals and made Christmas cookies every year.
She also called me terrible names and beat me when I made her angry. Or when my dad made her angry. Or when a neighbor, friend or television show made her angry.
I have to admit this: I was a very high-spirited, strong-willed kid, coming up with ideas or ideals to which I would hold defiantly. I can remember many times, my mother standing over me, her angry face just inches from mine, my hands and arms wrapped around my head to protect myself from another blow, and I can still hear her saying, "I'm going to make you mind if it kills me! I will win this battle! I don't care if you grow up hating me! "
And I did.
I hated how she looked, how she acted, how she talked, how she smelled. Everything about my mother filled me with contempt. Even her good deeds, to me, were like filthy rags. I couldn't stand to see her walk into a room. I knew that, depending on her mood, I would be either the best kid that ever lived, or the little brat who was driving her crazy. She was, in my eyes, self-seeking, pitiful, manipulative and dishonest.
It became my goal in life to prove her wrong and to expose her for the liar and lunatic that she was. When we were in public, I hoped, even tried, to pick out things that she would say that were blatantly wrong. I would look for opportunities to correct her and often triumphantly found them, only to incur her raging wrath once we were alone.
But it was worth it to me, because it proved me right, if even in my own mind. When we were in public, she was bubbly and good-humored. She liked to put on a show for her friends. But when we were alone, she exposed herself to me for who she really was. And I, in her words, was an antagonistic brat whose room was always a pig sty, who was lying and sneaky, and who, she hoped, would have ten kids just like me.
So maybe you can see why I was very strongly motivated to become exactly the opposite of what my mother prophesied over me.
When I say "prophesied," I don't mean to imply that there was any religious guidance in my childhood home. The only mention of God was followed shortly thereafter by the words "damn it." My primary religious influence came from the Holy Rolling mother of my best friend, who lived about a mile down the road. She was the other major influence on me, and her parenting to strategies were to pray...and yell.
Because my parents were very, incredibly overprotective of me, my household and the Holy Rolling household were the only ones I really ever knew. Our house was neat as a pin, always. The Holy Roller house was ever messy. Our house was organized and orderly. The Holy Roller house was virtual chaos with Ernest Angley for background noise.
So, I guess my life just kind of morphed out of both households. I'm chased by my own neat-freak demons, but my house is always virtual chaos (no Ernest Angley, though. Usually Train, or Jars of Clay or Barry Manilow as background noise), I waffle back and forth between being organized and orderly. And I'm a yeller.
And when I was sixteen, I became a Christian because some guy with no shirt and no shoes jumped onto the stage where I, as the local beauty queen, was judge for the small-town talent show. He stood there on stage with his guitar and sang beautiful spiritual songs to me and made me feel like there was hope, that I could be a better person.
I became a better person. Not a perfect person, of course. But a better one.
And I didn't even do it to prove my mom wrong.
Now, with my faith as a guide, I battle with the temptation to draw from my childhood experiences to motivate me as a wife and mother. I fight against my mother's prophesies (or curses?) that were placed over me, against preconceived notions and prejudices of mothers, women, households with many children, homeschoolers, christians.
I try not to compare myself with my parents, but I just can't help it. I spent so many years saying, "I'll be different. I'll do it right. I won't be like them," that I can't easily let go of the desire to rebel against them, even in my parenting. I'm running from the demons of my childhood. I realize, now, that my mother was, too. She was out to prove someone wrong, just like I'm out to prove her wrong. "You are a good mother," I want her to say. But what I hear in my mind instead is, "I hope you have ten brats just like you!"
None of my kids are brats. And I don't have ten just like me.
But I do have one.
I have a child who looks to prove me wrong at every turn, who is filled with anger, rebellion, and spite. I have a child who delights in correcting me and seems to live to humiliate me. This child is stubborn, strong-willed and fearless. When I deal with this child I see, sadly, my mother coming out in me. But I also so see me--the childhood me--staring out through that child's eyes.
And it drives me absolutely wild.
I have actually heard this child say the things that I used to say to my mom, or I can see those scathing, castigating thoughts running through that mind. I have actually heard myself say, "I will win this battle! I don't care if you grow up hating me!" I know, in the deepest place in my heart, that this is just not true. Actually, the thought brings me to my knees with tears.
As I mentioned in a prior post, I have read all of the parenting books that seem worth the paper on which they're printed. I have tried to implement the different strategies there. I read the parenting message boards, people who know with certainty that their method works. Their method is the One Right and True Way. I read with a mix of bemusement and discouragement, shaking my head and thinking, "But they don't have MY kid."
With this child, I've tried the James Dobson approach, the Gentle Parenting approach, the Pearl's approach and the Parenting in Jesus' footsteps approach. I'm a little bit of an attachment parent, a little bit of a Dobson parent, and a little bit of a Talk So Your Kids Will Listen parent. I am, with nods to Donna, a parenting mutt.
With this child, this one who is just like me, I have either broken ties that cannot be mended, I'm not doing it right, or I just haven't found the answers yet.
Maybe it's a bit of each.
A few days ago, while I was struggling with feeling overwhelmed and defeated, I found some of the best parenting and family advice I've ever read. It's advice not just for the parent, but also for the child, which, as my regular readers know, is something I've been seeking (Notes are mine) :
In case you didn't catch that last line, like if you read like me and skip from paragraph to paragraph to find the good stuff, I'll say it again:
I've spent too long looking for the worst in my children, in myself, and trying to exorcise those demons. What was I thinking??? After all, the Word says:
Do you see that? In keeping with his INDIVIDUAL GIFT OR BENT! It doesn't say
or even,
If you read that same verse as written in The Message, it says,
Point them in the RIGHT direction. Tell them what they SHOULD be doing. Seek out the GOOD in them with that child's INDIVIDUAL GIFT in mind!
I've written these words in a place where I can see them, where we all can see them, and I hope to read and re-read them until they're in a place where they will be with me always...
Hidden in my heart.
When I was a child, my parental examples were rather limited. My mother was often incapacitated by health issues or caught up in her neat-freak habits or in the funky depths of depression. My father hid himself away in his work, his bedroom, or his sarcasm, not attending my birthday parties, track meets or softball games. From a young age, I determined that, should I have kids, I would do better.
Still, my mom was a tough act to follow. Even with her foul mouth and cargo-hold full of childhood baggage, she was an awesome mother. She sewed, crocheted, gardened and canned. She cooked, volunteered, told stories and wrote books. She was the Brownie leader, the room mother, the softball coach and the D.C. trip chaperone. She organized the yearly beggar's night, took me to dance classes, watched my play rehearsals and made Christmas cookies every year.
She also called me terrible names and beat me when I made her angry. Or when my dad made her angry. Or when a neighbor, friend or television show made her angry.
I have to admit this: I was a very high-spirited, strong-willed kid, coming up with ideas or ideals to which I would hold defiantly. I can remember many times, my mother standing over me, her angry face just inches from mine, my hands and arms wrapped around my head to protect myself from another blow, and I can still hear her saying, "I'm going to make you mind if it kills me! I will win this battle! I don't care if you grow up hating me! "
And I did.
I hated how she looked, how she acted, how she talked, how she smelled. Everything about my mother filled me with contempt. Even her good deeds, to me, were like filthy rags. I couldn't stand to see her walk into a room. I knew that, depending on her mood, I would be either the best kid that ever lived, or the little brat who was driving her crazy. She was, in my eyes, self-seeking, pitiful, manipulative and dishonest.
It became my goal in life to prove her wrong and to expose her for the liar and lunatic that she was. When we were in public, I hoped, even tried, to pick out things that she would say that were blatantly wrong. I would look for opportunities to correct her and often triumphantly found them, only to incur her raging wrath once we were alone.
But it was worth it to me, because it proved me right, if even in my own mind. When we were in public, she was bubbly and good-humored. She liked to put on a show for her friends. But when we were alone, she exposed herself to me for who she really was. And I, in her words, was an antagonistic brat whose room was always a pig sty, who was lying and sneaky, and who, she hoped, would have ten kids just like me.
So maybe you can see why I was very strongly motivated to become exactly the opposite of what my mother prophesied over me.
When I say "prophesied," I don't mean to imply that there was any religious guidance in my childhood home. The only mention of God was followed shortly thereafter by the words "damn it." My primary religious influence came from the Holy Rolling mother of my best friend, who lived about a mile down the road. She was the other major influence on me, and her parenting to strategies were to pray...and yell.
Because my parents were very, incredibly overprotective of me, my household and the Holy Rolling household were the only ones I really ever knew. Our house was neat as a pin, always. The Holy Roller house was ever messy. Our house was organized and orderly. The Holy Roller house was virtual chaos with Ernest Angley for background noise.
So, I guess my life just kind of morphed out of both households. I'm chased by my own neat-freak demons, but my house is always virtual chaos (no Ernest Angley, though. Usually Train, or Jars of Clay or Barry Manilow as background noise), I waffle back and forth between being organized and orderly. And I'm a yeller.
And when I was sixteen, I became a Christian because some guy with no shirt and no shoes jumped onto the stage where I, as the local beauty queen, was judge for the small-town talent show. He stood there on stage with his guitar and sang beautiful spiritual songs to me and made me feel like there was hope, that I could be a better person.
I became a better person. Not a perfect person, of course. But a better one.
And I didn't even do it to prove my mom wrong.
Now, with my faith as a guide, I battle with the temptation to draw from my childhood experiences to motivate me as a wife and mother. I fight against my mother's prophesies (or curses?) that were placed over me, against preconceived notions and prejudices of mothers, women, households with many children, homeschoolers, christians.
I try not to compare myself with my parents, but I just can't help it. I spent so many years saying, "I'll be different. I'll do it right. I won't be like them," that I can't easily let go of the desire to rebel against them, even in my parenting. I'm running from the demons of my childhood. I realize, now, that my mother was, too. She was out to prove someone wrong, just like I'm out to prove her wrong. "You are a good mother," I want her to say. But what I hear in my mind instead is, "I hope you have ten brats just like you!"
None of my kids are brats. And I don't have ten just like me.
But I do have one.
I have a child who looks to prove me wrong at every turn, who is filled with anger, rebellion, and spite. I have a child who delights in correcting me and seems to live to humiliate me. This child is stubborn, strong-willed and fearless. When I deal with this child I see, sadly, my mother coming out in me. But I also so see me--the childhood me--staring out through that child's eyes.
And it drives me absolutely wild.
I have actually heard this child say the things that I used to say to my mom, or I can see those scathing, castigating thoughts running through that mind. I have actually heard myself say, "I will win this battle! I don't care if you grow up hating me!" I know, in the deepest place in my heart, that this is just not true. Actually, the thought brings me to my knees with tears.
As I mentioned in a prior post, I have read all of the parenting books that seem worth the paper on which they're printed. I have tried to implement the different strategies there. I read the parenting message boards, people who know with certainty that their method works. Their method is the One Right and True Way. I read with a mix of bemusement and discouragement, shaking my head and thinking, "But they don't have MY kid."
With this child, I've tried the James Dobson approach, the Gentle Parenting approach, the Pearl's approach and the Parenting in Jesus' footsteps approach. I'm a little bit of an attachment parent, a little bit of a Dobson parent, and a little bit of a Talk So Your Kids Will Listen parent. I am, with nods to Donna, a parenting mutt.
With this child, this one who is just like me, I have either broken ties that cannot be mended, I'm not doing it right, or I just haven't found the answers yet.
Maybe it's a bit of each.
A few days ago, while I was struggling with feeling overwhelmed and defeated, I found some of the best parenting and family advice I've ever read. It's advice not just for the parent, but also for the child, which, as my regular readers know, is something I've been seeking (Notes are mine) :
(For all) God didn't set us up for an angry rejection, but for salvation by our
Master, Jesus Christ. He died for us, a death that triggered life. Whether we're
awake with the living or asleep with the dead, we're alive with him! So
speak encouraging words to one another. Build up hope so you'll all be together
in this, no one left out, no one left behind. I know you're already doing this;
just keep doing it.
(For the children) And now, friends, we ask you to honor those leaders who work so hard for you, who have been giving the responsibility of urging and guiding you along in your obedience. Overwhelm them with appreciation and love!
(For all) Get along among yourselves, each of you doing your part. Our counsel is
that you warn the stragglers, and reach out for the exhausted, pulling them to
their feet. Be patient with each person, attentive to their individual needs.
And be careful that when you get on each other's nerves you don't snap at
each other. Look for the best in each other, and always do your best to bring it
out.~1 Thessalonians 5:12-15
In case you didn't catch that last line, like if you read like me and skip from paragraph to paragraph to find the good stuff, I'll say it again:
Look for the best in each other, and always do your best to bring it
out.
I've spent too long looking for the worst in my children, in myself, and trying to exorcise those demons. What was I thinking??? After all, the Word says:
"Train up a child in the way he should go and in keeping with his
individual gift or bent, and when he is old he will not depart from it." (The Amplified Bible)
Do you see that? In keeping with his INDIVIDUAL GIFT OR BENT! It doesn't say
"Train all of your children to be the same, and train them to be just like every
other good child,"
or even,
"Train up your children so that you constantly tell them which way they shouldn't go."
If you read that same verse as written in The Message, it says,
"Point your kids in the right direction--when they're old, they won't be
lost."
Point them in the RIGHT direction. Tell them what they SHOULD be doing. Seek out the GOOD in them with that child's INDIVIDUAL GIFT in mind!
I've written these words in a place where I can see them, where we all can see them, and I hope to read and re-read them until they're in a place where they will be with me always...
Hidden in my heart.
Friday, February 04, 2005
I LOVE Rhapsody!
We don't go on long vacations. We don't go to the theatre very often. We don't go see sports events. But we do have a couple of things in which we indulge.
One of them is Rhapsody.
Rhapsody is a 100% legal digital jukebox that can be totally customized to your musical interests. I've totally loved it. I use it to play my favorite stuff, to find the stuff I used to listen to as a child, and to listen to our daily classical music. I have increasingly become attached to my Rhapsody account.
I love it even more today.
I found one of my VERY FAVORITE artists on Rhapsody. I searched for him just on a whim, and there he was. So cool!
If you've never heard Jake Armerding, you should really very definitely listen to him right now. He's so totally awesome.
What I'm Hearing:
"Rome" - jake armerding
"Ithaca" - jake armerding
"Company Town" - jake armerding
"Place I Know" - jake armerding *Probably my favorite, or a close tie with Rome.
"Nevermind" - jake armerding
"Color You In" - jake armerding
"Jessica" - jake armerding
"Belong to Me" - jake armerding
"(don't Be My) Anything Today" - jake armerding
"Caged Bird" - jake armerding
"Loner" - jake armerding
"Lullaby in E Minor" - jake armerding
To listen, just click this link and Rhapsody will start playing the playlist automatically. If you don't have Rhapsody, you will be directed to a website where you can download it.
To hear the playlist in its full-length glory, you will need to be a subscriber. If you aren't a subscriber, they have a free trial.
One of them is Rhapsody.
Rhapsody is a 100% legal digital jukebox that can be totally customized to your musical interests. I've totally loved it. I use it to play my favorite stuff, to find the stuff I used to listen to as a child, and to listen to our daily classical music. I have increasingly become attached to my Rhapsody account.
I love it even more today.
I found one of my VERY FAVORITE artists on Rhapsody. I searched for him just on a whim, and there he was. So cool!
If you've never heard Jake Armerding, you should really very definitely listen to him right now. He's so totally awesome.
What I'm Hearing:
"Rome" - jake armerding
"Ithaca" - jake armerding
"Company Town" - jake armerding
"Place I Know" - jake armerding *Probably my favorite, or a close tie with Rome.
"Nevermind" - jake armerding
"Color You In" - jake armerding
"Jessica" - jake armerding
"Belong to Me" - jake armerding
"(don't Be My) Anything Today" - jake armerding
"Caged Bird" - jake armerding
"Loner" - jake armerding
"Lullaby in E Minor" - jake armerding
To listen, just click this link and Rhapsody will start playing the playlist automatically. If you don't have Rhapsody, you will be directed to a website where you can download it.
To hear the playlist in its full-length glory, you will need to be a subscriber. If you aren't a subscriber, they have a free trial.
I feel very badly...
My dear daughter, Bard, was very excited about reading poetry to the residents at a local care center. You can read about her disappointment and give her some encouragement here.
I'm so sorry, Bard. I only wish I could understand why it happened that way.
I'm so sorry, Bard. I only wish I could understand why it happened that way.
What Moms and Dads Wish Their Children Knew about Parents
Parenting books? Yeah, I've read 'em.
How to Talk So Kids Will Listen and Listen So Kids Will Talk, Your Strong Willed Child, Raising a Son, Simplify Your Life with Kids, Train Up a Child, Making Children Mind without Losing Yours, You're a Better Parent Than You Think, 401 Ways to Get Your Kids to Work at Home, Home Built Discipline...and these are just the ones on one shelf. On one of the bookcases. In this room.
I've read a ton about parenting. People always say that children should come with instruction books. I disagree. I think they should come with dismanteling schematics. There are enough instruction books out there to make a person crazy, and I've read my share (which could explain a few things), but they just don't seem to get me anywhere.
My kids still pee in inconvenient locations, strategically place legos so that they embed themselves in my left foot, make disparaging comments about the all-bran muffins I lovingly baked for them (okay, so they DID taste exactly like goat feed, but, darn it, they're healthy!), and whine uncontrollably about how unfair it is that they have to learn to count to 100 and spell their names correctly by the time they're fourteen. I mean, I've read an awful lot of books about how to be a better parent, and I have tried just about every strategy known to woman, but it's just. not. working.
And then it hits me.
It's my KIDS who have the problems. MY KIDS! Not me! Sheesh! What was I thinking?
THEY'RE they ones who need to read the How-To books!
So, I'm in the market for a good "how to be a better child" book.
But I'm kinda thinkin' they don't exist.
Any suggestions?
Anyone???
Buehler? Buehler?
(run: crickets chirping)
Somehow I didn't think so.
How to Talk So Kids Will Listen and Listen So Kids Will Talk, Your Strong Willed Child, Raising a Son, Simplify Your Life with Kids, Train Up a Child, Making Children Mind without Losing Yours, You're a Better Parent Than You Think, 401 Ways to Get Your Kids to Work at Home, Home Built Discipline...and these are just the ones on one shelf. On one of the bookcases. In this room.
I've read a ton about parenting. People always say that children should come with instruction books. I disagree. I think they should come with dismanteling schematics. There are enough instruction books out there to make a person crazy, and I've read my share (which could explain a few things), but they just don't seem to get me anywhere.
My kids still pee in inconvenient locations, strategically place legos so that they embed themselves in my left foot, make disparaging comments about the all-bran muffins I lovingly baked for them (okay, so they DID taste exactly like goat feed, but, darn it, they're healthy!), and whine uncontrollably about how unfair it is that they have to learn to count to 100 and spell their names correctly by the time they're fourteen. I mean, I've read an awful lot of books about how to be a better parent, and I have tried just about every strategy known to woman, but it's just. not. working.
And then it hits me.
It's my KIDS who have the problems. MY KIDS! Not me! Sheesh! What was I thinking?
THEY'RE they ones who need to read the How-To books!
So, I'm in the market for a good "how to be a better child" book.
But I'm kinda thinkin' they don't exist.
Any suggestions?
Anyone???
Buehler? Buehler?
(run: crickets chirping)
Somehow I didn't think so.
Haiku of a Homeschooler
Haiku of a Homeschooler: "One may need patience
To homeschool, but above all -
Flexibility"
I just discovered this wonderful site. I thought you'd enjoy it, too.
To homeschool, but above all -
Flexibility"
I just discovered this wonderful site. I thought you'd enjoy it, too.
Thursday, February 03, 2005
Shh! Don't tell anyone!
I've just discovered a secret.
This is very valuable information, and I'm only entrusting my most loyal, trustworthy readers with this knowledge. You may read further, but you musn't tell ANYONE what I'm about to share with you.
If you want to get your children to co-operate--and I mean, if you need them to be very, very good and very, very helpful, here's what you must do.
Just. Put. Them. To. Bed.
A magical thing happens after children have been sent to bed. Suddenly, under these circumstances, they can develop manners, gratitude and a keen sense of awareness about household tasks that need to be accomplished.
I know. I've just witnessed the phenomenon first-hand myself.
The Secret Log:
9:02--Finished a chapter of Mandy and told the kids it was time to get pajamas on and brush teeth.
9:12--Checked to see that each child had indeed brushed teeth and put pajamas on and not just pretended to do so. Yes, sometimes they pretend. I have one child who will wear the same clothes for a week, day and night, if I don't insist that he change. Please don't ask me how I know this. It would be very embarrassing to have to answer.
9:15--Sent children to their beds and began preparations for Morning Glory Muffins.
9:23--Bard comes in, asking if she can blog before she goes to bed. I allow it.
9:41--Bard finishes her blogging and arrives in the kitchen to give me a hug. She tells me that she's sorry she was angry with me. I was not even remotely aware that she HAD been angry with me. I tell her, jokingly, that I'll forgive her if she does a load of dishes. She willingly obliges.
10:03--Houdin comes down from bed and asks if there's anything he can do to help. Bard tells him that he can finish loading the dishes. He does not even argue. He's actually amicable. He willingly obliges.
10:17--Monet comes down and plays with the baby, gives me a big hug, dances with the baby, gives me a big hug and asks if there's anything he can do to help. He offers to do the dishes and willingly takes over loading the dishwasher.
10:32--Sweetheart comes downstairs. Now, all of my children are in the kitchen. None of them are arguing. They are all being kind to each other. They are all being kind to me. A miracle has indeed occured.
10:35--Sweetheart asks Monet if she can help him with the dishes. Monet agrees. Sweetheart willingly finishes loading the dishwasher.
10:41--I get hugs from everyone. I tell them all that it's time for bed.
Now, here's the part of the secret you may not want to hear. The magical spell breaks the minute these wonderful, cooperative children are sent back to their beds. You may choose to avoid this part, but, eventually, that time must come.
10:50--Bard: "May I switch computers with Houdin now? I can't get my CD to read in my drive, and all he ever does is plays JetPack on his" Me: "No, not tonight. You won't be using your CD drive while you're sleeping anyway. You must go to bed now." Bard grunts but grudgingly obliges.
10:57--Loud thump is heard from upstairs. Me: "Whatever that was, it's not part of going to bed! Now GO TO BED!"
11:04--I hear footsteps on the stairs. Me: "Who is out of bed???" Sweetheart: "I just wanted to ask you..." Me: (losing patience) NO! There is NO MORE ASKING! It is TIME for BED!"
11:33--Several loud thumps are heard from upstairs. Now I am yelling at the ceiling, "STOP THUMPING AND GO TO BED!"
There's something I've discovered. It's not really that big of a secret. Many moms become slightly insane and rather grumpy when their children are sent to bed. It can only be cured by going to them and praying for them before they fall asleep.
Use this information at your own risk. I will not be held responsible for anything that might happen as a result of your use of this knowledge.
When angry, do not sin; do not ever let your wrath, your exasperation, your fury or indignation last until the sun goes down.
~Ephesians 4:26. Amplified Bible
This is very valuable information, and I'm only entrusting my most loyal, trustworthy readers with this knowledge. You may read further, but you musn't tell ANYONE what I'm about to share with you.
If you want to get your children to co-operate--and I mean, if you need them to be very, very good and very, very helpful, here's what you must do.
Just. Put. Them. To. Bed.
A magical thing happens after children have been sent to bed. Suddenly, under these circumstances, they can develop manners, gratitude and a keen sense of awareness about household tasks that need to be accomplished.
I know. I've just witnessed the phenomenon first-hand myself.
The Secret Log:
9:02--Finished a chapter of Mandy and told the kids it was time to get pajamas on and brush teeth.
9:12--Checked to see that each child had indeed brushed teeth and put pajamas on and not just pretended to do so. Yes, sometimes they pretend. I have one child who will wear the same clothes for a week, day and night, if I don't insist that he change. Please don't ask me how I know this. It would be very embarrassing to have to answer.
9:15--Sent children to their beds and began preparations for Morning Glory Muffins.
9:23--Bard comes in, asking if she can blog before she goes to bed. I allow it.
9:41--Bard finishes her blogging and arrives in the kitchen to give me a hug. She tells me that she's sorry she was angry with me. I was not even remotely aware that she HAD been angry with me. I tell her, jokingly, that I'll forgive her if she does a load of dishes. She willingly obliges.
10:03--Houdin comes down from bed and asks if there's anything he can do to help. Bard tells him that he can finish loading the dishes. He does not even argue. He's actually amicable. He willingly obliges.
10:17--Monet comes down and plays with the baby, gives me a big hug, dances with the baby, gives me a big hug and asks if there's anything he can do to help. He offers to do the dishes and willingly takes over loading the dishwasher.
10:32--Sweetheart comes downstairs. Now, all of my children are in the kitchen. None of them are arguing. They are all being kind to each other. They are all being kind to me. A miracle has indeed occured.
10:35--Sweetheart asks Monet if she can help him with the dishes. Monet agrees. Sweetheart willingly finishes loading the dishwasher.
10:41--I get hugs from everyone. I tell them all that it's time for bed.
Now, here's the part of the secret you may not want to hear. The magical spell breaks the minute these wonderful, cooperative children are sent back to their beds. You may choose to avoid this part, but, eventually, that time must come.
10:50--Bard: "May I switch computers with Houdin now? I can't get my CD to read in my drive, and all he ever does is plays JetPack on his" Me: "No, not tonight. You won't be using your CD drive while you're sleeping anyway. You must go to bed now." Bard grunts but grudgingly obliges.
10:57--Loud thump is heard from upstairs. Me: "Whatever that was, it's not part of going to bed! Now GO TO BED!"
11:04--I hear footsteps on the stairs. Me: "Who is out of bed???" Sweetheart: "I just wanted to ask you..." Me: (losing patience) NO! There is NO MORE ASKING! It is TIME for BED!"
11:33--Several loud thumps are heard from upstairs. Now I am yelling at the ceiling, "STOP THUMPING AND GO TO BED!"
There's something I've discovered. It's not really that big of a secret. Many moms become slightly insane and rather grumpy when their children are sent to bed. It can only be cured by going to them and praying for them before they fall asleep.
Use this information at your own risk. I will not be held responsible for anything that might happen as a result of your use of this knowledge.
When angry, do not sin; do not ever let your wrath, your exasperation, your fury or indignation last until the sun goes down.
~Ephesians 4:26. Amplified Bible
Wednesday, February 02, 2005
No Matter What
Okay, folks. Pop quiz:
After about three hours of sleep, you wake up late and tired, preparing to begin your busy day. During the course of said day:
1. You discover that you made a nasty financial mistake that was totally preventable but you failed to prevent it. It cost you $100, and infuriated your husband, who just took over the finances and who hardly ever loses his temper;
2. In spite of your frequent warnings, lectures and attempts at protection, you find one of your children writing inappropriate things on your computer while the child is supposed to be writing an essay about their favorite president;
3. You leave with just enough time to pick up an Amish neighbor to take her to an appointment she has in ten minutes and your U-joint falls out of the bottom of your Jeep in the middle of the driveway;
4. You find three library books that are so overdue that they're now considered lost.
What do you do? What DO you DO???
Did you answer with any of the following?
1. Hide in the back of your fruit cellar with the lights off and bawl uncontrollably, determined to never come out of the dark, damp, cold corner again;
2. Get angry, hurt and frustrated beyond description, feel like a failure as a mother and homeschooler, and consider going to work full-time at McDonald's in order to put all of your children in boarding school;
3. Hang your head, call your husband out from the house, who, upon seeing the defunct U-joint lying on the ground, immediately spouts an obsenity, even though he rarely swears;
4. Apologize profusely to the librarian and worry that they'll never let you take books from them again because you're such a careless loser with no concern for the library's well-being.
If you did respond like this, then you and I are so very much alike.
When days like today happen, my first tendency is to get very angry, very hurt, very defeated, and very bitter.
"Great, God! Thanks a lot! I mean, look at all I do around here, and this is what you give me? This is the thanks I get? Thanks. Thanks a whole heck of a lot."
When I do that, I have the right idea.
I just have the wrong attitude.
It's like I tell my kids, don't EVER use "Thank You" as an insult. It's not meant to be a sarcastic, derogatory thing. It's meant to be GRATITUDE. It's meant to be APPRECIATION. It's designed to be received as PRAISE. If you're angry, tell the other person you're angry. Don't use mock gratitude as a weapon.
God tells us to be cheerful no matter what; pray all the time; thank God no matter what happens. This is the way God wants you who belong to Christ Jesus to live.
Thirty-three times in the NIV Bible, we are instructed to give thanks.
I realized as my nightmare day went on that I was guilty of using mock gratitude with God. What he really deserved was my sincere, gratitude, my deepest thanks, my heartfelt praise.
No matter what.
After all, let's think about this:
1. I've been asking my husband for FIFTEEN YEARS to take over the finances. Why? Because I SUCK at money issues! I'm too emotionally driven to make good decisions and I have a tendency to, ahem, push the envelope, shall we say? Making this big financial mistake just after my husband committed to taking over the money was a big wake-up call for both of us. It scared us straight, I guess you could say. I was devastated to disappoint him. Now he sees how stressful it is to make money mistakes and why it's so important for him to take over, and I see how much he wants to get it right and find myself completely accountable to him.
2. I was there, at home, when my child decided to investigate inappropriate content on what I thought was a harmless kids' internet game (Warning to readers: if your child plays Runescape, put a stop to it NOW!). Some children have no parent available to intercede when these things happen. I was there. I'm still here. I'm able to have a conversation with my child and discuss these issues with my child...even though I'm still trying to figure out just how to do that....
3. What if I'd been on the road with my passenger and her children when my Jeep's U-joint when clanking to the ground? What if my husband had been on the expressway with all of our children in the Jeep, like he was last night, just minutes before he pulled the Jeep into our driveway it promptly lost a very imporant component that is now hanging off the vehicle?
4. I actually FOUND the library books. I returned them, had a fee of $3.00 each, and didn't have to pay for each book in full, which would have been another financial disaster of over $50. The librarian was kind to me and didn't ban me from using the library again.
And these are just the positive aspects that I KNOW about. I am instructed to give thanks NO MATTER WHAT. Even if I can't SEE the silver lining around that foreboding thundercloud.
Tonight, as our family sat around the table preparing to eat a meal together, my daughter, Sweetheart, asked if she could pray. In her biggest, most faithful five-year-old voice, she offered her words to God:
"Dear God, thank you for everything that happened today..."
No matter what...
She didn't say, "Thanks a lot, God," or, "thanks for giving me the stuff I wanted," or, "thank you for all of the good things that happened."
She said, "Thank You, God. Thank You for EVERYTHING."
I could learn a lot from that girl.
"Thank God in everything no matter what the circumstances may be, be thankful and give thanks, for this is the will of God for you who are in Christ Jesus the Revealer and Mediator of that will."
~1 Thes. 5:18, Amplified Bible
After about three hours of sleep, you wake up late and tired, preparing to begin your busy day. During the course of said day:
1. You discover that you made a nasty financial mistake that was totally preventable but you failed to prevent it. It cost you $100, and infuriated your husband, who just took over the finances and who hardly ever loses his temper;
2. In spite of your frequent warnings, lectures and attempts at protection, you find one of your children writing inappropriate things on your computer while the child is supposed to be writing an essay about their favorite president;
3. You leave with just enough time to pick up an Amish neighbor to take her to an appointment she has in ten minutes and your U-joint falls out of the bottom of your Jeep in the middle of the driveway;
4. You find three library books that are so overdue that they're now considered lost.
What do you do? What DO you DO???
Did you answer with any of the following?
1. Hide in the back of your fruit cellar with the lights off and bawl uncontrollably, determined to never come out of the dark, damp, cold corner again;
2. Get angry, hurt and frustrated beyond description, feel like a failure as a mother and homeschooler, and consider going to work full-time at McDonald's in order to put all of your children in boarding school;
3. Hang your head, call your husband out from the house, who, upon seeing the defunct U-joint lying on the ground, immediately spouts an obsenity, even though he rarely swears;
4. Apologize profusely to the librarian and worry that they'll never let you take books from them again because you're such a careless loser with no concern for the library's well-being.
If you did respond like this, then you and I are so very much alike.
When days like today happen, my first tendency is to get very angry, very hurt, very defeated, and very bitter.
"Great, God! Thanks a lot! I mean, look at all I do around here, and this is what you give me? This is the thanks I get? Thanks. Thanks a whole heck of a lot."
When I do that, I have the right idea.
I just have the wrong attitude.
It's like I tell my kids, don't EVER use "Thank You" as an insult. It's not meant to be a sarcastic, derogatory thing. It's meant to be GRATITUDE. It's meant to be APPRECIATION. It's designed to be received as PRAISE. If you're angry, tell the other person you're angry. Don't use mock gratitude as a weapon.
God tells us to be cheerful no matter what; pray all the time; thank God no matter what happens. This is the way God wants you who belong to Christ Jesus to live.
Thirty-three times in the NIV Bible, we are instructed to give thanks.
I realized as my nightmare day went on that I was guilty of using mock gratitude with God. What he really deserved was my sincere, gratitude, my deepest thanks, my heartfelt praise.
No matter what.
After all, let's think about this:
1. I've been asking my husband for FIFTEEN YEARS to take over the finances. Why? Because I SUCK at money issues! I'm too emotionally driven to make good decisions and I have a tendency to, ahem, push the envelope, shall we say? Making this big financial mistake just after my husband committed to taking over the money was a big wake-up call for both of us. It scared us straight, I guess you could say. I was devastated to disappoint him. Now he sees how stressful it is to make money mistakes and why it's so important for him to take over, and I see how much he wants to get it right and find myself completely accountable to him.
2. I was there, at home, when my child decided to investigate inappropriate content on what I thought was a harmless kids' internet game (Warning to readers: if your child plays Runescape, put a stop to it NOW!). Some children have no parent available to intercede when these things happen. I was there. I'm still here. I'm able to have a conversation with my child and discuss these issues with my child...even though I'm still trying to figure out just how to do that....
3. What if I'd been on the road with my passenger and her children when my Jeep's U-joint when clanking to the ground? What if my husband had been on the expressway with all of our children in the Jeep, like he was last night, just minutes before he pulled the Jeep into our driveway it promptly lost a very imporant component that is now hanging off the vehicle?
4. I actually FOUND the library books. I returned them, had a fee of $3.00 each, and didn't have to pay for each book in full, which would have been another financial disaster of over $50. The librarian was kind to me and didn't ban me from using the library again.
And these are just the positive aspects that I KNOW about. I am instructed to give thanks NO MATTER WHAT. Even if I can't SEE the silver lining around that foreboding thundercloud.
Tonight, as our family sat around the table preparing to eat a meal together, my daughter, Sweetheart, asked if she could pray. In her biggest, most faithful five-year-old voice, she offered her words to God:
"Dear God, thank you for everything that happened today..."
No matter what...
She didn't say, "Thanks a lot, God," or, "thanks for giving me the stuff I wanted," or, "thank you for all of the good things that happened."
She said, "Thank You, God. Thank You for EVERYTHING."
I could learn a lot from that girl.
"Thank God in everything no matter what the circumstances may be, be thankful and give thanks, for this is the will of God for you who are in Christ Jesus the Revealer and Mediator of that will."
~1 Thes. 5:18, Amplified Bible
Tuesday, February 01, 2005
Speaking of Sliding...
It's really icy here.
You should see me walking around on my driveway, in my yard, in the parking lots of the local buy-a-lot-of-junk stores. I walk with such care and trepidation, you would think there was a huge chasm under my feet.
I guess I'm just afraid to fall.
One day last week, Bard and I were walking to our van, which we've parked at the very end of our long lane for lack of a vehicle that can handle the inclemency that is our country driveway. She and I were both wearing snowboots, treading cautiously with each little step and moving along quite slowly. I always imagine that there's some vicious snow-dusted ice beneath my very next step that will take me down, and fast. I've fallen enough to know that it's just when you get your confidence up, just when you say, "This is SILLY! I'll never get there if I keep on like this!" It's just when you think, "To heck with it," and you take your next step with abandon that the aforementioned lurking ice-enemy knocks you on your can. But it can't just do you the favor of letting you fall. Instead, it has to make you look like an idiot first, jerking, lurching, trying desperately to stay upright before you plummet to the hard, cold, icy ground.
As we were inching our way along, a figure came streaking past us, a blur against the snow-covered valley.
It was my 13-year-old son, Houdin.
I'm always amazed at Houdin's deftness on ice. He seems to have no fear of falling at all. While I can take every step with the utmost care and still land on my butt, Houdin runs and jumps and does cartwheels, yet still lands on his feet.
The thing I noticed as Bard and I inched along was how Houdin approached each icy spot. He didn't stop and proceed with caution. Nay, he didn't even slow down. He kept his pace. And when a sheet of ice took his footing, he just...slid. And slid. And slid. Not like I would slide as a precursor to sudden descent, with my arms flailing desperately in the air and ridiculous words spouting from my mouth. Houdin took more of a ride than a slide, arms out steady at his sides, feet separated, knees bent, almost as if he were skiing. Almost as if her were...enjoying it! And when the riding-sliding ended, he broke into a full-run again in preparation for the next patch of ice.
I wish that I could approach the problems in my life the way my son approaches a slippery slope. When life takes my footing, when I suddenly feel myself sliding and spinning out of control, I want to think of Houdin. Maybe then, I can just spread my arms, bend my knees, and gracefully ride the whole thing out.
You should see me walking around on my driveway, in my yard, in the parking lots of the local buy-a-lot-of-junk stores. I walk with such care and trepidation, you would think there was a huge chasm under my feet.
I guess I'm just afraid to fall.
One day last week, Bard and I were walking to our van, which we've parked at the very end of our long lane for lack of a vehicle that can handle the inclemency that is our country driveway. She and I were both wearing snowboots, treading cautiously with each little step and moving along quite slowly. I always imagine that there's some vicious snow-dusted ice beneath my very next step that will take me down, and fast. I've fallen enough to know that it's just when you get your confidence up, just when you say, "This is SILLY! I'll never get there if I keep on like this!" It's just when you think, "To heck with it," and you take your next step with abandon that the aforementioned lurking ice-enemy knocks you on your can. But it can't just do you the favor of letting you fall. Instead, it has to make you look like an idiot first, jerking, lurching, trying desperately to stay upright before you plummet to the hard, cold, icy ground.
As we were inching our way along, a figure came streaking past us, a blur against the snow-covered valley.
It was my 13-year-old son, Houdin.
I'm always amazed at Houdin's deftness on ice. He seems to have no fear of falling at all. While I can take every step with the utmost care and still land on my butt, Houdin runs and jumps and does cartwheels, yet still lands on his feet.
The thing I noticed as Bard and I inched along was how Houdin approached each icy spot. He didn't stop and proceed with caution. Nay, he didn't even slow down. He kept his pace. And when a sheet of ice took his footing, he just...slid. And slid. And slid. Not like I would slide as a precursor to sudden descent, with my arms flailing desperately in the air and ridiculous words spouting from my mouth. Houdin took more of a ride than a slide, arms out steady at his sides, feet separated, knees bent, almost as if he were skiing. Almost as if her were...enjoying it! And when the riding-sliding ended, he broke into a full-run again in preparation for the next patch of ice.
I wish that I could approach the problems in my life the way my son approaches a slippery slope. When life takes my footing, when I suddenly feel myself sliding and spinning out of control, I want to think of Houdin. Maybe then, I can just spread my arms, bend my knees, and gracefully ride the whole thing out.
Sunday, January 30, 2005
Okay, Kids, Time for Bedlam
Debbie Harbeson has written a light-hearted PDF book about her seemingly insane decision to choose homeschooling. For a refreshing change from the ever-increasing commercialization of homeschooling, you can read this book for free!
As an introduction to the book, Debbie writes: "This is what happens to you, when you purposely allow your children to skip school to learn at home... and it's a riot!"
As an introduction to the book, Debbie writes: "This is what happens to you, when you purposely allow your children to skip school to learn at home... and it's a riot!"
Celebrity Homeschooling...
From this site:
Hollywood couple WILL and JADA PINKETT SMITH have decided to homeschool their children, because they're unimpressed with America's educational system.
The ALI co-stars have six-year-old son JADEN, daughter WILLOW, four, TREY, 12, Will's son from his first marriage and Will's nephew KYLE, 15, in their care. And all children but Trey are currently homeschooled.
Jada tells ESSENCE magazine, "(They are homeschooled) for flexibility, so they can stay with us when we travel, and also because the school system in this country - public and private is designed for the industrial age.
"We're in a technological age. We don't want our kids to memorise. We want them to learn."
Hollywood couple WILL and JADA PINKETT SMITH have decided to homeschool their children, because they're unimpressed with America's educational system.
The ALI co-stars have six-year-old son JADEN, daughter WILLOW, four, TREY, 12, Will's son from his first marriage and Will's nephew KYLE, 15, in their care. And all children but Trey are currently homeschooled.
Jada tells ESSENCE magazine, "(They are homeschooled) for flexibility, so they can stay with us when we travel, and also because the school system in this country - public and private is designed for the industrial age.
"We're in a technological age. We don't want our kids to memorise. We want them to learn."
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