What Do We Want Them to Remember?

A few weeks ago, a dear friend of mine who lived across the street growing up and is now a mother of four (soon-to-be five) suffered a stroke. People all over the world have been praying for her, and those prayers are powerfully working! She was moved out of ICU, into rehab, and is now home, where she is working to regain full mobility. Please keep her (Amanda) and her young family in your prayers.

Her stroke happened at night, while she and husband were talking before bed.

I wondered if something like that should happen to me, where there was no guarantee I would ever be the same again, what would I want my children and my husband to remember of me? How would I have spent the last day as me, as I am now?

Would I want the kids to remember that, while they were outside playing, Mom was in the house, doing chores and (gasp) spending time on the computer? That perhaps many of my interactions with them involved scolding and impatience?

 Photo Credit

Or would I want them to remember that, even though dishes and laundry had to be washed, dried, and put away, Mom kept a playful, light-hearted spirit? That, whenever possible and practical, they were involved in the work and made to feel special and valuable for being such great helpers? And that we had plenty of fun times together, too?

Sure, work has to be done to keep our families functioning smoothly. But I want to be sure I'm taking time to hit the bull's eye of their heart with a special connection each day. That's what I would want them to remember if tomorrow I should not be quite the same as today. May I commit to live tomorrow as I would want to have lived today.

Sharing with:
Women Living Well
Raising Homemakers

I Didn't Plan for Chaos

copyright Moms In Need of Mercy

Today was just a day. I didn't plan for it to be the way it was. But then again, I didn't really plan for success, either. Going to bed with nothing more than a vague plan for the coming day allowed a whole lot of chaos to enter in. Just the general structure of: "I'll get up, make some breakfast, throw in a load of laundry, start homeschool stuff, and maybe run some errands" just left way too much free time for everything to fall apart. And it did.

Although I have a homeschool routine down for my oldest son (he's six; it doesn't take that long), I didn't really have any structured activities for my other two boys, 3 and almost 5. So they made up their own. Really creative play with manipulatives, like dumping out our small crock that sits on the kitchen counter and holds spare change, keys, and other random items. Now this was all over the kitchen floor. Since baby sister is starting to crawl, and since I would like to avoid another coin-swallowing event, we had to get the change off the floor.

Today's obedience department was closed. But the disobedience section was full of customers. The sole clerk (Mom) grew tired meeting the back-to-back demand for attention and correction.

Really, it's the phone's fault. It rang way too much today. Despite my requests to please let the answering machine get it, sometimes, one of the boys just allowed his desire to be friendly to outweigh his desire to obey Mom--although today, I'm not sure there even was a desire to obey Mom...

So I'd get on the phone, and the boys would get into the cereal--even though they had just eaten lunch. I'd get off the phone, clean up more food messes, and the phone would ring again. And the boys would do their own thing while I was on the phone, which wasn't necessarily a good thing, and usually incurred fighting, whereby one boy would start crying and trying to talk to me while I was still trying to talk to someone else on the other end of the phone. (This is a good way to get off the phone, though, if you're looking for an excuse to cut a call short...)

Nearing the end of the day, we decided to take a walk. Which would have been fine, except for the fact that when we reached the nearby playground, one son came running up to me and announced, "I have to poop!" Yet, off he went to play for a few more seconds, until he would run up to me again and make the same announcement, and then go play again. This happened several times. It was time to go, but no one would go (for reasons above), even though one really had to go.

Finally, everyone decided to obey and home we went. Just a little way from the house, one of the boys decided to top it all off by taking a mud bath. He wasn't trying to. He was only trying to copy his brothers who were climbing snow drifts piled up in our high school's parking lot. He climbed, then climbed down...into mud, and got stuck. As in quick-sand stuck. Me, wearing my new white Marmot parka my husband got me for Christmas, wanted no part of the rescue. But he was totally stuck. So I reached out to him from the curb, and told him he was absolutely not to touch my coat (he obeyed on this one), and I grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the mud. Somewhere in the rescue, he face-planted. But the coat made it out unscathed.

What all this taught me today is that by not more clearly planning for success, I did in fact, plan for chaos.

My next post will address planning for a successful day. I just have to plan one.

(If you like this post, can I humbly ask you to take a second to vote for it here?)
(linked to Raising Homemakers)
Part 2: Planning for a Good Day

The Coconut Cake and Febreeze: Spring Renewal

Last week, I made this coconut cake using a recipe in The Coupon Mom's Guide to Cutting Your Grocery Bills in Half: The Strategic Shopping Method Proven to Slash Food and Drugstore Costs. It's a pretty easy recipe, using a white cake mix, sour cream mixed with sugar and coconut, and then topped with Cool-Whip mixed with more coconut and grated coconut on top. Easy, that is, if you purchase already dried and flaked coconut. Not quite as easy if you start from scratch with the coconut.

But since we received a coconut in our Bountiful Basket, I thought that making this cake would be a good way to put some of that coconut to use.  My boys were super excited to crack it open. First step, drill holes (it's a guy thing) and drain the water.

\

Next, wrap the coconut in a towel and prepare to crack it open. Super excited little boys at this point, if they weren't already. (Even our dog was licking her tongue in anticipation in the background).

Study coconut. Interesting....

Now walk away and leave Mom to do all the rest...the hard part, like peeling and then grating (although my husband did help with one section).

So since I had all this coconut on my hands, I decided to grate some and make that cake. Grating the amount needed for the cake was no small matter. It took awhile and worked my triceps like I haven't done in quite some time. 

We each enjoyed a piece of the finished cake. A few days later, we enjoyed another piece. Then, while it was sitting on the counter, looking pretty and beckoning me to come grab a bite, I snitched a little section.

"Yuck," I thought. "This tastes strangely like the Febreeze the boys have been spraying way too much of lately." 

I did some investigating. Sure enough, the cake did smell distinctly like Febreeze: Spring Renewal.  
 
So I did some asking around. One son admitted to spraying Febreeze on the cake. "Why?" I asked.
 "I wanted to make it smell good," he responded.
 
So glad I at least got that second piece of cake before I had to throw the rest of it away.  Who knew you had to add "Don't spray Febreeze on the food" to the list of manners you're trying to teach your kids?

But what I want to add on here is--
The very next question my son asked was, "Are you mad at me?"
This was an instant heart check to me, because yes, in fact, I was kind of mad. I realized, then, though, that how I responded to him would make all the difference. I can make another cake. It wasn't that hard, after all. Besides, all that coconut grating is good for my upper arms. What I can't replace is my son's heart.
As one of our friends says, "Do no harm."
This Valentine's Day, may we remember to always hold our children's hearts carefully--even as we correct--and fill their hearts with the security of our love, even if they spray Febreeze on our food.

My Son Swallowed a Quarter

photo credit

In a newly invented game--one that he thought of himself--my six-year old son swallowed a quarter. The game? A spin-off of Hungry, Hungry Hippos: "Stuff Your Mouth With Coins--See How Much You Can Hold." Except he couldn't hold as much as he thought he could, and down went the quarter.

He came upstairs, crying and scared. "Mom, I swallowed a quarter. Am I gonna die?" Me, not thinking he was capable of such a feat, wondered why he would be making up a story like this. But after lots of questioning, "Are you serious? Are you really serious?" and affirming he was in fact serious, the second line of questioning was, "Are you sure it was a quarter?" We are learning about the different coins right now, and I told him to show me exactly what coin he had put in his mouth. He produced a quarter.

With the coins from his piggy bank spread in piles (pennies, nickles, quarters minus one) all over the living room, he began to cry. "I don't want to die. This was too short of a life! I didn't even get to fly a plane."

I assured him that I didn't think he would die. He assured me that he would. We went in for the x-ray. On the way, I lectured him about how we don't have insurance and Christmas is in a few days (this was last week) and this is not what I want to be spending money on. Then, thoughts of surgery, flashed through my mind, and huge, horrible bills. I just prayed the quarter would go down and out quickly.

I realized he did not need lecturing in what he believed were his final moments on earth, but rather compassion and mercy. I stopped lecturing and drove silently the rest of the way. That was as much mercy as I could muster right then.

Sure enough, the x-ray showed a quarter. Fortunately, it was in his abdomen--not his trachea or esophagus, which would have required surgery in our nearest metropolitan city four hours away, since no surgeon will touch that kind of surgery here in our smallish city.

I think it's since entered the sewer system. Despite our daily checking, I think we missed its exit.

Tonight, our middle son began crying before bed and asked if he would die if he swallowed a nail. After another line of intent questioning, he admitted he did in fact swallow a nail.  My stomach sunk to the floor.
I buried my head in my hands. My husband asked him why in the world he would do such a thing. Through tears, he answered, "Because my nail was sharp and I was mad at it, so I wanted it off." It was his finger-nail.

MomSense: A Common Sense Guide to Confident Mothering

 You would think that, with my fourth child, I would be pretty confident in my mothering. Not necessarily so. Sure, I am more confident in many areas, such as interpreting what an infant is trying to communicate, how to go about potty-training boys, and how to deal with a temper tantrum in public. But after the birth of my fourth, I suddenly felt like a wave tossed to and fro in regard to our parenting philosophy in general. We've always adopted more of a Dr. Sears/attachment parenting style, but I found the convenience of the schedule of the Baby Wise approach appealing. The only problem is I've never had the grit to let my baby "cry it out" for a half hour or more.

 

So when I was offered the opportunity to read and review MomSense: A Common-Sense Guide to Confident Mothering, I jumped at it. This sounded exactly like what I needed! Check out what the book's back cover has to say:

"Do blogs, books, magazines, and well-meaning women in your life have you questioning your mothering intuition? Jean Blacker is here to tell you that you are the best mom for your children--and you have what it takes to raise them.

With personal stories from real moms and proven, practical advice, MomSense helps you honestly assess your skills, embrace your mothering instincts, and develop your own unique mothering style. Rather than pushing one 'right' way to be a mom, this hope-filled book shows you that you can have contentment, joy, and confidence in your role as Mom."

Right off the bat, this is a unique book. First, it's the first book I've ever read that is printed in blue ink! Beyond that, like the back cover states, it's not advocating a specific parenting style ("do-it-this-way-or- else") but it encourages moms to take an honest look at one's own particular style and become more confident in our MomSense.

What exactly is "MomSense"? Author Jean Blackmer, who is herself the mother of three sons and the publishing manager at MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) International defines it as "Mom intuition plus common sense." The good news is--even if you don't have very much mommy training starting out (or much common sense!), you can learn new skills and improve your MomSense everyday throughout your parenting journey. (And, by the way, in case you ever feel like mothering leaves you somewhat scatter-brained, Jean points out that "a woman's brain begins functioning at new levels once she becomes a mom." So, even if you're fumbling around in your purse, trying to find your keys, while your kids are begging for quarters for the gumball machine at the grocery store, and the bagger is just waiting on you so he can help you unload your groceries in your car, your MomSense is off the charts!)

After introducing the idea of MomSense and sharing encouragement for growth in our skills as mothers, Jean explores how our mothering is shaped by our own mothers, both positively and negatively. This chapter provided an opportunity for reflection. You've probably found in your own life, that no matter how many times you used to say, "I'll never do that as a mom!", you find yourself doing those very things now that you are a mom. Through reading this chapter (and the reflection questions at the end), I identified some areas where I can work intentionally to improve my MomSense.

The next chapter focuses on decision making. "Life is jam-packed with decisions. How does a person make decisions and live without regret?" You'll find answers here, in this immensely helpful chapter. It offers great advice for trusting your own intuition more fully and making confident decisions. For those like me, who tend to be indecisive and seek out tons of information before making a decision and then second-guess decisions to no end, this chapter was a real confidence booster.

Speaking of decisions, one of the most important choices a mom can make is in regards to the attitude of her spirit. With "practical tips and tools," Jean addresses several areas that are crucial for successful mothering. These are listed and explained as:

• Sense of Patience: Intentionally practicing patience: the ability to endure waiting, delay or provacation without becoming annoyed or upset
• Sense of Respect. Modeling and teaching the Golden Rule: do unto others are you would have them do unto you.
• Sense of Consistency. Becoming the reliable, faithful mom your children need.
• Sense of Perspective. Avoiding the nonsense and focusing on what matters most/
• Sense of Self-Control. Practicing and modeling self-discipline in a self-indulgent world
• Sense of Calm. Remaining composed in the chaos and creating a peaceful home.
• Sense of Joy. Maintaining a sense of humor and creating a joyful atmosphere in the home.
• Sense of Love. Building a sensible mothering philosophy grounded in unconditional love.

The above sections are rich not only with encouragement, but also with practical areas where we can all improve our MomSense.

Finally, Jean shares helpful advice for dealing with some of the common challenges of motherhood, such as handling tantrums in public, potty-training, dealing with sibling rivalry, handling advice from in-laws, and more.

Because motherhood is not one-size-fits-all, you won't find that kind of an approach in this book. What you will find, however, is plenty of grace, encouragement, and practical tips to help you become the best mom for your kids. You'll learn how to make decisions in their (and your) best interest, and how to feel confident about them.

Especially because mothering boys can present unique challenges for us moms (since they are so different from us!), I wanted to ask Jean for any tips on becoming more confident in raising sons.

Here's what she had to say:

"First, it's an important step to realize and accept that you are a girl and raising boys can be challenging, they are definitely different than girls.

My advice to help moms grow in their MomSense (and confidence) in raising boys is to rely on things you know, your common sense, such as boys typically are more physical, greater risk takers and louder than girls. And often boys are attracted to things such as video games, balls, trucks and guns. But, it is common sense that even though a boy is more physical it's not okay to hurt someone else, or boys are louder doesn't mean it's okay to be loud all the time, or it's okay to allow your boys to take risks just teach them safety skills too (A book came across my desk called "50 dangerous things every boy should do" or something like that :)., or just because a boy is attracted to video games doesn't mean it's good for him to play endless hours etc.

Then use your mom intuition. You know your boy better than anyone else. If you know what makes him tick you can help him grow in those passions and direct his - what girls might feel are negatives - his boyishness - into positives. For example, a boy that is super physical would probably really enjoy contact sports and needs to get outside every day and release that energy. If you know your son gets a thrill from taking risks help him find some fun and safe ways to experience the adventures he craves. (Husbands are often good sources for this.) Be intentional about really observing your son and getting to know him, be his biggest cheerleader, and trust your intuition in your mothering of him, over time you will become more confident. At times you still will feel at a loss for understanding your boys so I really encourage communication with other moms of sons and glean wisdom from each other, keep a sense of humor, and enjoy your boys and the passion, energy and adventure they bring to your life!"

In conclusion, MomSense: A Common-Sense Guide to Confident Motheringtruly helped me to not only make a decision regarding our parenting style and newborn scheduling, but encouraged me to grow in my confidence as a mom and in the decisions I make for our family. I heartily recommend this book.

And...you can win a copy, courtesy of MOPS. Just leave a comment on this post. I'd love to hear what one area you'd specifically like to become more confident in, in regard to motherhood (but you don't have to share that). I'll post a winner on Monday. (Please be sure to leave your email in the contact. Shipping to US residents only, please).

Disclaimer: I received a copy of this book to review and one to give away.

The Love Languages of Our Children

Does your child know how much you love him? Probably yes, but he'll know it best if you express it in the language of love he understands--his unique love language.

You've probably heard of the book called The 5 Love Languages of Children. In it, author Gary Chapman outlines the

five universal love languages:

• quality time
• words of affirmation
• gifts
• acts of service
• touch (hugs, cuddling, holding hands)

The book's back cover explains that "every child (like every adult) expresses and receives love best through one of [these] five communication styles. If your love language is different from your children's, you'd better learn to translate fast. Or you could miss your chance to meet their deepest emotional needs."

I find this to be so true in my own life. One of my boys, in particular, has been acting up quite a bit lately. But when someone does something one-on-one with him, he is such a happy boy, and so helpful. He will then obey any request, quickly and with a pleasant spirit. Could it be because he feels a special fellowship from his love language (quality time) being met?

What I realize is that this child needs a little more one-on-one time, instead of always corporate time, where he's one out of four children. He needs focused attention to feel loved.

Maybe we can all take some time on Sunday to think through our children's love languages and find at least one practical way this week to express love in the language they best understand. As an added bonus, my guess is they'll behave a bit better, too.

Silence is a Mom's Worst Nightmare

When my boys are home, silence is a terrible thing. It means destruction lurks behind the corner, devastation looms downstairs, and doom is inevitable upstairs. Free will in the house comes with a messy price.

Just a few days ago, while working on reading with my 6-year old, my other two sons and partners-in-crime, ages 4 and 3, traveled downstairs. I thought they were happily playing--it is, after all, the playroom; yet it was quiet. Too quiet. And that's never a good sign.

What I found was surprising. And infuriating. They had pumped out all the liquid soap in the bathroom, plus all the lotion from my Bath and Body Works Aromatherapy Orange Ginger Energy Body Lotion and my Bath and Body Works Aromatherapy Lavender Vanilla "Sleep" Body Lotion (which aren't cheap) and apparently decided their toys--including their LeapFrog Read and Sing Little Leap needed a massage.




The aromatherapy from the orange ginger lotion must have worked: they had plenty of energy. Unfortunately, the lavendar vanilla scent did not seem to calm me.
 
After a discussion about why we don't smear soap and lotion all over our toys, I thought we had checked that category of mischief off the list. Wrong. It morphed into a fascination with aerosol cans.
 
When I went upstairs after they were taking too long for a potty trip, I discovered that they started spraying Lysol on toys (not terrible I suppose, as we approach flu season), and in the toilet. Steady streams of toothpaste squeezed out in the toilet look like blue poo. And my makeup? Well, let's not even go there.
 
How do we keep our kids out of mischief? I'm not sure. But I'll tell you one thing--listen for the silence. Then proceed immediately and with caution, calming yourself in advance for what you're likely to find.

Motherhood and the Maple Tree

photo credit

Motherhood is like a maple tree. Numerous demands on our time and attention tap our sweet syrup. Our love pours out into little lives (and not-so-little lives), filling their buckets. But sometimes, we find our sap is slowing to a trickle.  

This trend of needing at times, to intentionally choose to show love is common to all moms. So common, in fact, that the Bible addresses it. In Paul's letter to Titus , he encourages older women to train the younger women to love their husbands and their children? Doesn't that just come naturally? Why would anyone need to be trained in it?

I think I have a clue...

The Greek word for "love" in that text is "phileo," which is the friendship type of love. After the initial "I'm-so-in-love-with-you" feelings wear off (for either our husbands or our newborns, but I'll focus on our kids in this post), we could use help to keep on loving our children in the friendship sort of way. They can annoy us, disobey us, test our patience, and sometimes just plain drive us nuts. We love them unconditionally for life, but at times, we need training and encouragement to continue to like them, to love them in a friendship sort of way. (See this post for raising our kids so we like them). We still need to tap our sweet syrup into their lives in a cheerful way.

I love what Jean Blackmer has to say on this topic:

"It's easier to love our children unconditionally when they are newborns. Nothing compares to that experience. And thank God he lets us experience that type of love for our babies--so that when they're toddlers throwing a temper tantrum at the park, we remember how much we love them, even though we might not feel it right at that moment...

As time passes, we forget those days of snuggling with our baby. We forget the smell of the lotion we slather on their bodies. And we don't always feel love. Sometimes love becomes a choice. We choose to love even when we don't feel like it, and this choice will be easier if we practice loving intentionally." -- Jean Blackmer, MomSense: A Common-Sense Guide to Confident Mothering

So when we find this type of love for our children needs to be poured out in a little higher concentration in our lives, where can we turn to find this practical help?

• Our relationship with the Lord. Insight through Scripture, prayer and the Holy Spirit
• Older moms whom we admire
• Peer moms who can share what they're learning, what's helping them
• Inspirational books and articles on motherhood (I love aboverubies.org and the free Above Rubies newsletter, as well as Nancy Campbell's book The Power of Motherhood: What the Bible Says About Mothers)
• Teaching resources (audio messages on motherhood, etc.)
• Blog posts from Christian ministry leaders and others with a passionate heart toward mothering (I find so much encouragement at itakejoy.com) 

In conclusion, choosing to love our kids in a friendly way does sometimes take a little intentionality. When they're pestering us with the same request for the 20th time in a day, or they're disobeying or otherwise irritating us, we're not allowed to just turn a cold shoulder, to shove the lid on our syrup bucket, and say, in essence, "No more kind love for you today." We need to train ourselves to love them in a friendly-sort-of way still.

Some posts I've loved lately are:

• Building Requires a Plan, and a Whole Lot of Work
• When the Milkshake Runs Low

(linked up with Gratituesday at Heavenly Homemakers)

The "Eggs"periment

If the name-calling and fighting among your children has you fried, crack some eggs for your kids at breakfast--but not in the traditional sense. A friend of mine told me about this idea.  She used it with her family, and I used it in mine. I think it's a great visual to dish out some teaching about the way we are to treat one another.

Lay out some newspapers, take out the eggs, and repeat the statements you've heard your children say to one another as you throw down an egg. They'll watch it crack in awe and wonder if Mom's cracked up, too.

Don't explain yet, just keep going. Did someone hit someone recently? Fire away with another egg. Any biting? Break another one. Pushing? Shoving? Name-calling? Egg away. (With the price of eggs rising, you may want to limit the number of wrongdoings you illustrate).

Once they eggs lie open and messy on the floor, you can begin to teach to this visual experiment. Explain that when the children call each other names (use the specific names they say), it's like cracking the egg of their relationship and that person's heart. It's messy. It's ugly. We can clean up the damage, but we can never put the egg back together again.

So it is with the things we do and say to each other. The relationship among siblings is like the egg. God created it whole, with a purpose to bless one another through help and encouragement. He did not design us to put cracks in our sibling relationships (or any relationships) daily. We are all created in the image of God. We are not to destroy one another with our words or deeds.

After the "eggs"periment, I read to the boys some verses out of the Bible that I wanted them to soak into their hearts. I used Romans 9:9-21, as I felt it was most pertinent to our situation right now. There are also many great verses on speech, which you could easily find by using the concordance at the back of your Bible.

"Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in brotherly love. Honor one another above yourselves...Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse...Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud...Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everybody. If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. Do not take revenge, my friends...Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good." (Romans 9:9-21).

We cleaned up the eggs and will continue to work on cleaning up our behavior.

I'd love to hear if you serve up (or throw down!) some eggs this week. As a final caution, watch what you're wearing. The eggs do tend to splatter.

(linking up with Works for Me Wednesday).

Raising Sons: We Have Their Childhood

Listening to this song while washing dishes, I flash-forwarded to a thought of dancing with my oldest son at his wedding. It made me teary. In that moment of giving my boy to his wife, all the silly, childish things he has done (and has yet to do) won't seem so terrible. In fact, they may even turn in to fond memories...things to laugh over--depending, that is, on how I handle the moment: will I crush his spirit with a sharp-tongued expression of my anger and frustration; or will I subdue my displeasure, resist the desire to sin in my own self, and teach his character?

See, the thing is, for our boys, we have their childhoods. Their wives have their futures. We are given each day in their most formative years to shape and guide who they become. We can do, as moms, what their wives cannot do. A wife cannot, or should not, mentor her husband into the character she hopes he displays day-to-day. Yet that is our mission as moms. A woman will someday choose our son as her husband largely due to the groundwork we have laid in forming his character.

Once grown, our sons may still make foolish choices that their wives have to deal with. But the poor decisions they make then will not be the same poor choices they make now. A 30-year old, for example, will not be getting in trouble for coloring on the walls, getting into Mom's makeup and perfume, splashing too much in the bathtub, being mean to his brother, putting a piece of paper in a candle flame...We get the childishness. Seen in the right perspective, we can use it to teach lessons that his future wife will reap.

So we are given these days. May we purposefully embrace our mission to love and train our children. May we remember, even on the bad days when childish behavior is at its worst, that we--unlike any other woman in our sons' lives--are given a chance to chisel these precious boys into godly men. May that vision drive us on.

(Sharing with Gratituesday at Heavenly Homemakers and Raising Homemakers)

The Art of Roughhousing

Browsing through the Sunday paper, I was amused to come across an article about a new book called The Art of Roughhousing.Complete with diagrams and instructions, the book promotes the benefits of roughhousing: making kids "smarter, emotionally intelligent, likable--even lovable," according to the book. The authors, both dads, argue that kids--especially boys--must get away from the electronics and the avoidance of rowdiness and get back to good old-fashioned roughhousing. They say it's vital to self-esteem and physical development.

I chuckled at the quotes from a mom of two boys, ages 4 and 2, who was interviewed for the story. She said, "All they do is rough-housing. They're physically incapable of not doing it. I find it stressful, dangerous for them, and the interior of my home, which is taking a beating, too."

How many of us mothers of boys can relate to that sentiment?

Most likely, all of us. Another mom of a 3-year old daughter and 18-month old son said it's "their wrestling, chasing, jumping on furniture and running in the house" the second she turns her back that most concerns her. She said she constantly feels like she's saying, "Stop, don't do that!"

Roughhousing is one of my tipping points, too. If they're not roughhousing with each other, the boys are roughhousing with the house. They're grabbing the cords for our custom living room shades that are bolted into the wall and swinging like they're Spider-Man. Everyday, we review that they are not to do that; everyday, they try it again and again. Chairs become trampolines, despite reminders that chairs are not trampolines and despite discipline when they fail to heed the warnings. The built-in bookcase not only holds books, it also serves as a climbing wall. The living room apparently makes a great track for running laps, and the window seat ledges (and coffee tables) offer plenty of practice for perfecting jumps. Makes for stronger bones, I guess. Apparently, the neighbors get a little nervous when they see our boys climbing the fence and sitting on the top rails to wave goodbye to Dad in the morning and after lunch. But they don't know that our boys have perfected the art of roughhousing. If the book's right, it's all for their good (and perhaps mine too): they'll be smarter, more emotionally in-tune, and more likable. Now if I could just find roughhousing more likable, I'd be all set...

The Noodles of Wrath

A few months ago, I scored some pasta for free. We don't really have a pantry in our house, so I was storing the extra packages downstairs in a box. The boys' room is downstairs, too, and they often play down there.

On a rainy morning a few days ago, the boys were playing fairly well together. Of course, this always makes moms happy, and I felt a little looser about checking on them as often as usual. First mistake. Second mistake was not to get a clue when one of my boys came in the kitchen to see what I was doing, and I asked him if they were getting into mischief. "No, mommy. I just came up to check on if you were getting into mischief up here." Hilarious!

They were playing well together, but their play was mischievous. The worst act was getting into a box of whole wheat pasta, and breaking the noodles clear from one end of the basement to the other--ending in their bedroom closet. Noodles can't really be vacuumed up; they have to be picked up by hand. There were hundreds to pick up. Not a fun game of pick up sticks for a very pregnant mother. (My gracious husband took care of it later that day).

What is it about situations like this--the unexpected finds--that cause us to just completely lose it? Someone once wrote about "simmering in wrath." (Here's the article). I felt that that day. I know I needed to get out of it. "Justified anger should fade quickly with the removal of the provocation. Do not entertain the grievance overnight. If the anger lingers until nightfall it is no longer a natural reaction to injustice; it is simmering wrath." ("Angry Children")

At times like that, it's best for me to take the kids and get out of the house. Even if I'm still frustrated (which I usually am), at least the environment changes. There's other stuff to think about and focus on than what happened at home. Plus, we're in a public place, and that simple fact helps to keep our emotions and words to our children in check.

So we had some rough moments with the noodles of wrath, but we got it cleaned up--inside our hearts and in our home. Learning lessons every day...

Love this Psalm: "May your mercy come quickly to meet us, for we are in desperate need." (Psalm 79:8).

Survival Parenting

Parenting is hard work. It comes with lots of joys, no doubt, and countless, special memories, but there are also many moments when we're simply in survival mode. A friend of mine made a comment recently that she and her husband aim to never criticize anyone's parenting because they know how hard it is and how we're "all just trying to survive." Anyone with children knows how true that is. But we can't just leave it at that
--we've got to work hard to set the bar a little higher.

So how do we break out of survival mode and hit intentional parenting?

I think it all starts with goals, vision, purpose. We've got to have at least a rough idea of a few things we want to achieve with our kids each day--whether that be chores we want them to do, learning we want them to accomplish, places we want to go, etc. If we're not guiding the day--at least somewhat--we will end up simply surviving it. And it may not be pretty. On the other hand, benchmarks and a basic direction isn't going to prevent crises throughout the day, but as parents, we'll feel less like they're ruling us and more like we're presiding over them. It's the perspective.

Not only do we need some daily goals, we are wise to intentionally think through what we want our families to look like long-term. What kind of character qualities do we want to see in our children? What kind of religious values do we want to instill? How do we want them to handle practical aspects of life, such as money management, teamwork with siblings and peers, conflict, and more? By knowing what we're aiming at, we can steer the course to instruct with focus in those areas.

With a little planning, we can rise above crisis survival mode. Planning may not prevent us from hitting the bulls-eye each day, but at least we'll know what we're aiming for. Then we have a better chance of reaching the target.

Practically, I find the best daily planning for me happens early in the morning before the kids are up. I read my Bible and pray about the day ahead, thinking through and praying about what I might like it to look like--knowing we won't achieve the vision perfectly, but at least there are some plans for the day (or parts of it). The weekend, usually Sunday afternoon, affords time to envision the week ahead. Coffee talks with your spouse can result in intentional goal setting for family life in general.

How else do you think we can break out of "survival mode" into something more inspiring?

When the Training Wheels Come Off

Yesterday, my husband took the training wheels off our six-year old's bike. He rode all by himself! What an exciting time of discovery.

So many aspects of our children's learning are just like taking the training wheels off. We instruct, and sometimes we struggle to teach--maybe it seems like the lessons just aren't sinking in. I wrote a few months ago about feeling the sting of comparison that my son wasn't reading like another boy we know, who was in full-day kindergarten. But last week, all that instruction finally paid off: he's putting words together more easily and starting to recognize some by sight. It clicked practically overnight. The training wheels came off.

I think of potty-training, too. With each of my boys, it hasn't happened overnight. But as we go about faithfully training them and talking to them about it, eventually one day, it happens. It clicks. They start to use the toilet all by themselves, and all the struggles with it cease to exist.

Learning to walk and learning to talk are the same way too. We wonder when our children will hit these important milestones, and sometimes we may fret if it seems they are a bit behind. But then, almost as if it happens overnight, they're walking; they're talking.

I love the quote by Dr. Ruth Beechick that I read in Educating The WholeHearted Child about the mysterious process of how children learn. Here's what it said:

"'Modern research and theories do give various views of man and his learning, but the Bible gives the 'soul' view. And that is too important to leave out of a learning theory...Piaget, who more than anyone else worked at breaking down children's learning into bits and describing them, came to the conclusion that it is not possible to lay bits out in linear fashion for children to learn...In short, there is no scientific explanation of learning. Many people have argued that it's a fallacy to call education and psychology sciences. They are not sciences in the sense that physics is. And when they do behave like sciences, they leave out heart and soul, the most important ingredients. So it is right for our theory of learning to draw from the Bible more than from science. A Bible figure for learning is 'growth.' Growth happens all over, at the same time."'

Learning is mysterious, but it's happening all the time. The desire to learn and grow is God-given and innate. Our kids will eventually catch on to whatever it is they need to know.

So if there's some issue you're struggling with today, wondering if the light will ever turn on, be encouraged that it indeed will in due time. The training wheels will fall off. Then your child will be off and running, and you'll wonder why you ever worried so.

--Ruth Beechick, Biblical Psychology of Learning as quoted in Educating The WholeHearted Child (bold mine)

"Mommy, Me Put Cup Up My Nose"

(I stepped away from my computer for a few minutes, and when I came back, this post automatically posted itself. If you received a draft version, here is the full thing).

Last week Thursday afternoon, I was upstairs laying down for a few minutes, and my boys were supposed to be having a quiet time looking at books but were watching Tom & Jerry cartoons instead. My two-year old came upstairs and said, "Mommy, me put cup up my nose." I looked and didn't see anything, but when I went downstairs, I saw that he had shredded a 4-ounce Dixie cup (the kind with the wax coating) on the couch. I figured that he had tried to put a piece in his nose but didn't actually do it, since I couldn't see anything.

That night, though, while he was sleeping, his right nostril was really stuffed up. I knew something was definitely up there then. Plus, the side of his nose started to look a little swollen. In the morning, I tried to use the nasal aspirator several times until he became uncooperative. That's where my husband took over. He was able to remove a small piece of Dixie cup paper. Then we thought we'd take a break and see if that fixed it, or if there was still more.

I called the doctor's office to find out what we should do. But, of course, with it being a holiday weekend, they were not there. Through the day, as he would cooperate, I used the nasal aspirator on him to see if we could work anything else down. We prayed a lot, too, for God's help and mercy.

Before I finish the story, aren't our noses fearfully and wonderfully made, as Psalm 139 declares about our bodies? The way our bodies recognize and attack something foreign is further evidence to me that we are not here by accident, but by the design of an extremely intelligent (and loving) Creator. My son's nose was producing everything it could to naturally rid itself of the Dixie cup. It started to emit a foul odor as well, as his body was working to decompose whatever it was that was in there. All this caused me to marvel at how God made our noses.

So while our noses are wonderfully made, they aren't made to hold pieces of Dixie cups. By day's end, we knew we had to give it one more shot, or else we had to take him to the hospital. My husband had to hold our little guy very firmly, and armed with a small flashlight, the nasal aspirator, and a pair of tweezers, he was able to remove another small piece of the cup. None of this was pleasant, or easy, since our son was crying so hard and saying, "Daddy, my nose hurts. My nose hurts!" as well as, "Mommy, I'm scared."

My husband knew that the little piece couldn't possibly have been big enough to be causing the problem (and the stench), so several more nasal aspirations later, he saw something large blocking the nasal cavity on the right side. It was too high up to safely pull it out with tweezers, so he worked with the nasal aspirator some more. Amazingly, the piece came down close enough where he could remove it.

Our son had managed to tear about a one-to-one-and-a-half inch piece off the top of the Dixie cup, wad it in thirds (or thereabouts), and stuff it up his nose. The piece easily fit on my ring finger nail. No wonder it hurt so much coming back down. I don't know how he got it up there in the first place.

It's out now. His nose is clear. I'm so thankful that we were able to remove it on our own without a costly medical bill. Definitely a "mom's-(and dad's)-in-need-of-mercy" moment." Hopefully it will never happen again--not with a Dixie cup, or anything else for that matter!

Raising a Genderless Kid...Really?

Today I read an incredibly disturbing story that has me fired up. You may have heard it: the parents (who, by the way, are clearly not genderless) are seeking to raise a genderless child. (Here's the link). They have two other children, who they admit are boys. The strange thing is, their 5-year old son, although he dresses in pink and wears braids, doesn't like to be called a girl and wants his parents to list on his camp application that he's a boy. He wants people to know it, because guess what? It's God-given, but I'll get to that in a minute.

They say they don't want to intervene and make choices for their newborn, choices like gender. Here's what they said in an email to family and friends: "We've decided not to share Storm's sex for now — a tribute to freedom and choice in place of limitation, a stand up to what the world could become in Storm's lifetime (a more progressive place? ...)."

Let's go with that for a moment. "A tribute," in their own words, "to freedom and choice in a place of limitation." Why pick only gender to fail to impose limitations on? How about freedom and choice in other areas where parents normally impose limitations for the child's good, such as:

• What foods to eat, or not eat? Can he/she eat five chocolate donuts for dinner if that is what the child chooses and feels like?
• What time to go to bed?
• What kind of movies to watch? Will the child be allowed to watch x-rated films if he/she would like to?
• What words to use (and not use)?
• How to speak to one's parents and elders?

Will the parents fail to teach manners, since its imposing certain rules on a child? Phone ettiquette? Language? Will the parents fail to insist on certain boundaries regarding curfews, computer use, sexual activity, and more? How is it any more imposing to say "No, you cannot have a pink stud in your ear," than to say, "No, you cannot eat a king-sized Snickers for lunch."

Since they homeschool (unschool, they admit, where the child's interests drive learning), it will be up to them to teach their children math. Are they going to "impose" rules like 3+2=5, even if the child feels like it should be seven. What about language? When their kids are learning to write, are the parents going to offer corrections such as, "No, that's not how we write an 'a.' This is what an 'a' looks like." Or will they say, "That looks wonderful! That squiggle is an 'a?' Fabulous. Great job figuring it out on your own." If they parent that way, where the child is free to create his or her own mathematic equations and language, the child will fail to fit into society. The child will never thrive, because how can it? It has failed to have been taught the basics.

Shouldn't gender be just as absolute as math and language?

Sure, I am approaching this argument not from an evolutionary position, but from a strong belief that we were created male and female in the image of God. Our anatomy was decided for us in the womb, and in all but the rarest of medical instances, our gender follows suit. Coaching your child in basic common-sense about being a boy or a girl is no different than teaching a child basic societal expectations, like, "No, you can't go to the store naked", "You can't take that without paying for it", and "No, that is not the way you behave in a public place."

There are rules set for us, for the good of society. Helping a child figure out what it means to be a boy or a girl is no different, and is a necessary part of good parenting. And yes, I believe the source for how we raise our children into strong, virtuous men and strong, virtuous women is the Bible. If that makes me horribly unprogressive, so be it.

The funny thing is, the article states that the parents, "believe kids can make meaningful decisions for themselves from a very early age." The children's father said, "What we noticed is that parents make so many choices for their children. It’s obnoxious."

Ok, so fail to provide any parental guidance on an issue as important as gender, but prove yourself a hypocrite by choosing to make "obnoxious" decisions regarding food, bed-time, underage drug and alcohol use, sexual activity, and other things that caring parents set "limitations" on all the time. Or...don't make any of those "obnoxious," "limiting" choices for your child and wait for Child Protective Services to show up.

Children need guidance in all sorts of areas. This couple's children are begging for gender guidance. That's why the boy admits he doesn't want to go to school and that it bothers him to be called a girl. The mom admits: "When I was pregnant, it was really this intense time around Jazz [the 5-year old] having experiences with gender and I was feeling like I needed some good parenting skills to support him through that.” Could it be that he is struggling so because being a boy is his created, God-given instinct? Yet, he doesn't know what it means to be a boy, because his parents refuse to nurture him in that regard. I'd say that would cause some emotional turmoil.

So, as the mom states, "culture...narrowly defines what he should do, wear and look like." Yet, a California-based psychologist who wrote a book called Gender Born, Gender Made ("a guide for parents of nonconforming kids") admits "there is something innate about gender." She is quoted as saying that gender-neutral experiments during the 1970s “only worked up to a certain extent. Some girls never played with the trucks, some boys weren’t interested in ballet ... It was a humbling experiment for us because we learned we don’t have the control that we thought we did.”

If a liberal psychologist admits "there is something innate about gender," then these parents are doing a grave disservice to their children by forcing them to ignore their innate gender. I steer my kids' choices all the time. We all do. It's called parenting. Good parenting demands we teach our children not only about who they are, and how they should behave, but we coach them into who they are meant to be--gender roles and all.
 

Fighting Discouragement & A Cookie Flop

Coffee Talk Thursday



Take some bad days, add enough of them together in a row, and discouragement will soon set in. At least it does for me.  Once I hit the bottom of that downward slide, I just pull away. I didn't feel like blogging, or doing much else for that matter for the last few days. Except I did make time for journaling, reflecting, and longer-than-usual Scripture reading (I don't think it helped that my Bible reading plan put me in the beginning chapters of Job; today I switched to Philippians, and that helped cheer my outlook).

What I learned can be summed up like this: I can't hold grudges. I don't really hold grudges against adults, but my children? The ugly truth is I can hold a good grudge against one or more of them for a full day. They misbehave in the morning (or the afternoon) or whenever, and I can deal with it calmly, but if the pattern of misbehavior continues (or if the behavior was particularly heinous), it's much harder for me to simply discipline them, talk about it, forgive them, and move on. I may think I have done all of those things, but I haven't. I carry the irritation, the disappointment, sometimes yes, the anger around with me all day. It makes for one bad day. For all of us.

When I am upset, I become more sullen. I withdraw, becoming more emotionally distant, especially from my kids. I think the patterns we are raised with are ever so hard to break, no matter how desperately we desire to not repeat the same mistakes.

Here are some questions I asked myself during the past few days:

• When we pray and ask God to change our spirits, how exactly does that happen?  (I think God does His unseen work through the Holy Spirit, but we really have to try on our ends to discipline our thoughts and let Him help us change our attitudes)
• If I could turn back time, how would I have handled the situations that made me so upset differently? What can I learn from them? How can they be redemptive?

I think the bottom line for me is--

"When words are many, sin is not absent, but he who holds his tongue is wise." (Proverbs 10:19)

After our mall fiasco, on the way home, I went on and on about the boy's behavior and why it was so wrong. I think I hurt their feelings beyond what was called for. I asked them later how they would have preferred I handled it, and both of my boys basically said I could have just said--"in a nice voice"--that what they did was wrong, here's why, and they would be disciplined when we got home. End of story. I could have done that. I should have done that. Dealt with it calmly, dropped the grudge, and moved on with the day, leaving that all behind us.  Lessons learned, for all of us. 

Now for a little humor...

Yesterday, when the hours from 3:00 until 5:00pm felt like they would drag on forever, I asked the boys if there was anything they wanted to do. They wanted to make cookies, so we tried to make our favorite cookie recipe. In between trying to keep everything straight as little hands wanted to dump in ingredients, and boys needed help in the bathroom, I forgot to add the oatmeal into the butterscotch oatmeal cookies. I didn't think the batter looked quite right as I was portioning it on the cookie sheets, but I couldn't figure out what was wrong. I wish the digital camera still worked to show you what the cookies looked like. They were terrible! Picture batter flattened all over a cookie sheet into a  giant, thin, greasy mess, with a bag's worth of butterscotch chips poking out. I scraped them and dumped them (the boys managed to eat a few and were so happy that we made cookies, they never once complained about how messed up they were). What a waste of butter and chips, but I suppose it is healthier for us that way!

So how do you turn a bad day around? What lessons have you learned to get over it?

(linked to Small Steps)

The Mall Trip

After a little bit of a rough week (more on that tomorrow), I decided to take the kids to the mall this afternoon, mainly to get out of the house, let them burn off some energy, and play in the play land (plus we needed toilet paper from Target). On the way in, one child couldn't resist playing in the clothing racks and managed to knock one over. We hung everything back up and continued on our way. We stopped in the Air Force recruiter's office, since my oldest is passionate about fighter jets and wants to fly a F-22 Raptor someday. So the recruiter was nice enough to talk to him about what he would need to do if he wants to be a military pilot someday.

Things were going well. Until we were about ready to leave the mall.

On the way out of Macy's, I stopped to browse the selection of newborn girl sale clothes. One son announced he had to pee and went into the fitting room. My other son said, "That's not the bathroom. That's a fitting room." I knew I needed to stop, drop and run to prevent the inevitable from happening.

I managed to take everyone to the bathroom, when the problems began. One son turned off the lights. The bathroom was full. I apologized to everyone in the stalls. I warned him not to do it again. A few minutes later, he did it again. The bathroom was still full, this time with a new group of women. I told him he would personally be apologizing to each woman as she exited the bathroom. He suddenly became "shy." He refused. My anger-mometer was rising rapidly.

As if that wasn't enough, another son--who was trying to wash his hands--decided to throw a horrible tantrum because he couldn't reach the sink to rinse his hands himself. I tried to help lift him, but that just made him more upset. Then, as I announced we were leaving the bathroom immediately, two of the three boys decided to go at it over the fact that one of them grabbed the other's new dollar toy from Target.

So now we have not only: 1) the lights turned off twice, 2) kicking and screaming and crying out of frustration with the sink, but also 3) a full-fledged break-it-up fight in the middle of the Macy's bathroom.

Not a mother's proudest moment.

I can't even describe how some of the women glared at me on the way out.

At least this time, no one knocked over the mannequin. Last time, she laid flat on the floor by the entrance. The more I tried to reposition her, the worse off she looked. Arms laying strangely on her body, legs twisted, and no matter how hard I tried, I could not get her to stand back up. So I found a customer service representative, told her what happened and apologized for it, and we stepped over the mannequin on the way out.

Next time, I am going to the mall by myself.

My Boys and My Housekeeping

I was visiting with a friend of mine who also has three boys and is pregnant with her fourth. The difference between us, though, is her house is always impeccably neat and well organized. Mine is...um...not. Sure, I try, and I work very hard, but chaos is almost always around some corner.

As we were talking about it, I realized that our boys are quite different. Mine just frequent the realm of "things one should not do." This means I am constantly stopping what I am doing to check what they are doing. Simple tasks take forever--some never get finished.

Let me give you an example.

A few days ago, I was unloading the dishwasher. Should take five minutes. But it's rarely ever that simple.

It was a nice day outside--almost 50 degrees. The boys went out in the yard to play. It's fenced, but they know how to open the fence, so I have to check on them every few minutes. On this day, they did not try to open the fence. Rather, they got the keys to the garage, which is not attached to our house, and opened it.

When I went out to check on them, I found one son trying to put an arrow on a bow. I herded him out of the garage, locked it, and brought the keys inside. I tried to unload the dishwasher again. Then I saw my other boys in the yard with small gardening shears, pruning my dead plants.

Although the examples change hourly (sometimes it's perfume and lotions they get into), this is all normal activity in my house. Today, one son invented a game called: "What's faster? Me or the toilet?" Object of the game: try to flush a toy down the toilet and see if you're faster or if the toilet's faster. How do they think of this stuff? How can I stop them? (Sidenote: after asking him about it, I guess he races not a toy, but himself against the flush of the toilet. Can he make it to point A before the toilet finishes flushing?)

So this is a large part of why I struggle to get everything finished as I should. You just can't focus and finish when you have to constantly keep boys from (or interrupt them from) doing something that is either dangerous, dumb, or destructive (or all of the above).

Here's hoping for a day where they will play productively with their toys...and only their toys. But I suppose that for them, venturing into never-never land is much more risky and therefore, fun. Who wants to play it safe when you can take a walk on the wild side?

Going back to the difference between my friend and I and our housekeeping--my home, therefore, is not one where neat and tidy reign but where the wild things are.


 

My Boys Wear the Perfume in the Family

Photo Credit



This isn't my perfume tray, but my mirrored vanity from my grandmother looks exactly like this. And my boys can't keep their hands off it. I think it's the push-spray action that fascinates them; maybe they get a little superhero thing going on: "watch me spray the bad guys with this repellent." Whatever the reason behind the intrigue, I can smell it when they've gotten into my perfume.

Today was particularly interesting. Actually, I'm struggling to find the right adjective to describe it.

I was on the main floor, helping our oldest with his math and phonics. The two youngest were upstairs, supposedly getting ready for the day. It was quiet. Too quiet. That's never a good sign in this house.

I went upstairs to investigate. My oldest son beat me up the stairs. He yelled, "Mom, they're getting into your perfume again! They're spraying it everywhere!"

Not only had they sprayed multiple bottles of perfume several times, they had taken my bottles of essential oil (lavender and Pan-Away--which smells a little like Icy Hot) and one of the boys had poured the bottles on the head of his brother. He also took a small bottle of peach-scented roll-on perfume that I really liked and dumped that on brother's head too. Creating their own perfumery, I guess.

I also had a small bottle of Estee Lauder's Advanced Night Repair (which is tremendously not cheap) on my vanity that is now providing an advanced treatment for the carpet both day and night.

The only redeeming part of this situation is--at least their mix smelled somewhat decent today. Plus, my son got quite the deep conditioning treatment for his hair.