If you are a parent, you must, absolutely must, check out this blog entry from Shawni Eyre Pothier at 71toes today,
I am inspired.
Shawni writes about and includes photographs from her father's old notebook. There are stories about their ancestors, where their last name came from. There are lists and goals by year and season. There are common threads that appear year after year. Now that is parenting with a purpose, with a vision. No wonder her father and mother wrote so many successful parenting books. The thoughts and ideas in this notebook flow so naturally I felt like I could see them bursting from his mind every step of the day.
I want to parent with more purpose.
I am an idea person, but I have trouble with follow-through. I start things with much gusto, but peter our quickly before getting to the end. I get things nearly done or good enough and then move on to something new. I know this thread runs through my parenting days also, and I want to lick the bad habit. I wish I could get my hands on a copy of that ancestor book, to be inspired by the different things on each page. I have a feeling, however, if I gave myself to more quiet reflection and journaling then perhaps I might access those creative and purposeful ideas in my own mind.
Nevertheless, I am inspired to start my own ancestor book.
Monday, 30 September 2013
Chocolate
I have given up chocolate.
This is the first time I've had to give up something while nursing. I realize that after 3 kids, I'm probably pretty lucky that this is it. I'm also lucky that it's "just chocolate." Yes, I realize how dire that can sound (even to me!) but I can't imagine trying to give up some of the other major culprits of nursing woes, like dairy.
I'm not one who craves sweet food or junk food normally. However, during these days of so very little sleep my body seems to be craving the energy chocolate provides to get me through. Juliette is still waking at least every 3 hours through the night, sometimes more often. I average about four hours of sleep a night, but that's not straight through - it's usually in 90 minute chunks. After 15 months of that, I'm probably as close to the walking dead as you can get. Hence the mid day craving of chocolate to get me through.
However, because I don't keep sweet or junk food in the house, I have been resorting to a handful of chocolate chips as a substitute. (I know there must be at least a few of you out there who have dipped into the chocolate chip jar out of desperation!) Last week, with Juliette's play-dough episode (there is wheat in play-dough - oops!) she was up every 45 minutes every night for 5 days straight. I think I nearly emptied my jar of chocolate chips.
As I came to the end of the week, I was lying in bed at night, stomach churning from the chocolate and it suddenly occurred to me: chocolate is part of the problem. I knew that the play-dough incident had run its course, and yet still Juliette was unsettled, mostly at night. I realized that through the night she was nursing more, and there was a good chance the the extra chocolate combined with the extra milk was making for an even more sore tummy for her.
Sigh. Goodbye, chocolate. I will miss you, but our parting is only temporary.
Thankfully it has not been as hard as I thought it might. The very evening of the first day I attended an event that had fruit and chocolate fondue as the refreshment. I piled my plate with strawberries and pineapple without even a second thought toward the lovely melting milk chocolate sitting by. The line on the chocolate chip jar has remained steady. I'm not tempted to toss in a chocolate bar in the grocery checkout line. I am grateful for being filled with a strength and resolve beyond my normal capacity to try and help Juliette. And hopefully, if chocolate is a culprit to her sleeping patterns, then we might actually both start sleeping through the night and I won't need a mid-day chocolate kick!
This is the first time I've had to give up something while nursing. I realize that after 3 kids, I'm probably pretty lucky that this is it. I'm also lucky that it's "just chocolate." Yes, I realize how dire that can sound (even to me!) but I can't imagine trying to give up some of the other major culprits of nursing woes, like dairy.
I'm not one who craves sweet food or junk food normally. However, during these days of so very little sleep my body seems to be craving the energy chocolate provides to get me through. Juliette is still waking at least every 3 hours through the night, sometimes more often. I average about four hours of sleep a night, but that's not straight through - it's usually in 90 minute chunks. After 15 months of that, I'm probably as close to the walking dead as you can get. Hence the mid day craving of chocolate to get me through.
However, because I don't keep sweet or junk food in the house, I have been resorting to a handful of chocolate chips as a substitute. (I know there must be at least a few of you out there who have dipped into the chocolate chip jar out of desperation!) Last week, with Juliette's play-dough episode (there is wheat in play-dough - oops!) she was up every 45 minutes every night for 5 days straight. I think I nearly emptied my jar of chocolate chips.
As I came to the end of the week, I was lying in bed at night, stomach churning from the chocolate and it suddenly occurred to me: chocolate is part of the problem. I knew that the play-dough incident had run its course, and yet still Juliette was unsettled, mostly at night. I realized that through the night she was nursing more, and there was a good chance the the extra chocolate combined with the extra milk was making for an even more sore tummy for her.
Sigh. Goodbye, chocolate. I will miss you, but our parting is only temporary.
Thankfully it has not been as hard as I thought it might. The very evening of the first day I attended an event that had fruit and chocolate fondue as the refreshment. I piled my plate with strawberries and pineapple without even a second thought toward the lovely melting milk chocolate sitting by. The line on the chocolate chip jar has remained steady. I'm not tempted to toss in a chocolate bar in the grocery checkout line. I am grateful for being filled with a strength and resolve beyond my normal capacity to try and help Juliette. And hopefully, if chocolate is a culprit to her sleeping patterns, then we might actually both start sleeping through the night and I won't need a mid-day chocolate kick!
Wednesday, 25 September 2013
The Big Picture
It is so important in life to keep the Big Picture in mind.
Sometimes we get caught up in the little things. We make them huge, monstrous, terrible things. They stress us out, keep us up at night, shorten our patience and tempers and grind at us every minute of every day. They might seem important, but when you look at the big picture, they really are insignificant after all.
Sometimes we get caught up in big things. Life throws us a curveball that knocks us down flat. The road we were travelling suddenly ends and we can't even see a fork in the road, just thick, heavy brush that is going to need a machete to cut a path. The task ahead is so daunting and scary that we freeze up. It might seem insurmountable, but when you look at the big picture, the days will pass and life will move on after all.
Sometimes we might get hit with something that really is tragic. These are the life and death matters, the illnesses or accidents that permanently alter our lives. These are events that really can't be worked through with determination or changed with a different perspective. These are times in our life when emotion takes control and in order to continue you must alter the way you looked at life. It might seem inconceivable, but when you look at the big picture, the terrible things fade into nothing and only the joys remain in memory.
I am learning that life is not a straight line. That might seem safest, but it is rarely the case anymore. But change is not failure. Each event in our life serves a purpose, and who we are at the end of our lives is the culmination of each of those events. I am not a filmmaker, but that doesn't mean 4 years of film school were a waste of time; that's where I met my husband. I was let go unexpectedly from my job in advertising just after I was married, but that doesn't mean I failed at my job; it's just that I was done spending time in that corner of life. I'm not teaching piano right now, but that doesn't mean I'm not an excellent piano player or that I don't love music. When life hiccups, you don't have to stand still, frozen, until something aligns in front of you.
I like the analogy that life is like those little wooden blocks that babies love to play with - you know, the ones with the painted letters and numbers on the sides? Each block is some area of your life, some person you know, some job, some stage, some hobby, and each one is added to the next, building a taller and taller tower. Some blocks are big, the ones that are always a part of your life. Some blocks are small, something that is in your life for but a short season. Some blocks are repetitive, things that come and go, but always seem to find their way back to you. Each of these blocks is an important part of the culmination of who you are. You can't wish any one of them away because the whole tower would topple.
So what do these musings me for me? I want to embrace life's changes. Whether it's moving houses, moving cities, moving countries, new jobs, new careers, new education, new friends, new family, new interests, new hobbies, new stages of life - be it exciting or scary or, more likely, a little of both, embrace it. Endings are just the start of new beginnings.
Sometimes we get caught up in the little things. We make them huge, monstrous, terrible things. They stress us out, keep us up at night, shorten our patience and tempers and grind at us every minute of every day. They might seem important, but when you look at the big picture, they really are insignificant after all.
Sometimes we get caught up in big things. Life throws us a curveball that knocks us down flat. The road we were travelling suddenly ends and we can't even see a fork in the road, just thick, heavy brush that is going to need a machete to cut a path. The task ahead is so daunting and scary that we freeze up. It might seem insurmountable, but when you look at the big picture, the days will pass and life will move on after all.
Sometimes we might get hit with something that really is tragic. These are the life and death matters, the illnesses or accidents that permanently alter our lives. These are events that really can't be worked through with determination or changed with a different perspective. These are times in our life when emotion takes control and in order to continue you must alter the way you looked at life. It might seem inconceivable, but when you look at the big picture, the terrible things fade into nothing and only the joys remain in memory.
I am learning that life is not a straight line. That might seem safest, but it is rarely the case anymore. But change is not failure. Each event in our life serves a purpose, and who we are at the end of our lives is the culmination of each of those events. I am not a filmmaker, but that doesn't mean 4 years of film school were a waste of time; that's where I met my husband. I was let go unexpectedly from my job in advertising just after I was married, but that doesn't mean I failed at my job; it's just that I was done spending time in that corner of life. I'm not teaching piano right now, but that doesn't mean I'm not an excellent piano player or that I don't love music. When life hiccups, you don't have to stand still, frozen, until something aligns in front of you.
I like the analogy that life is like those little wooden blocks that babies love to play with - you know, the ones with the painted letters and numbers on the sides? Each block is some area of your life, some person you know, some job, some stage, some hobby, and each one is added to the next, building a taller and taller tower. Some blocks are big, the ones that are always a part of your life. Some blocks are small, something that is in your life for but a short season. Some blocks are repetitive, things that come and go, but always seem to find their way back to you. Each of these blocks is an important part of the culmination of who you are. You can't wish any one of them away because the whole tower would topple.
So what do these musings me for me? I want to embrace life's changes. Whether it's moving houses, moving cities, moving countries, new jobs, new careers, new education, new friends, new family, new interests, new hobbies, new stages of life - be it exciting or scary or, more likely, a little of both, embrace it. Endings are just the start of new beginnings.
Monday, 23 September 2013
Soother woes
Out of four kids, we've had one who took a soother as a baby, one who never took one, and two who were totally, completely addicted to it. By the time Caleb entered junior kindergarten he was easy going enough that when daytime naps were eliminated, so was the soother. Up until that point I never fought it, because without the soother he didn't nap; with the soother he would sleep 3 hours in the afternoon. My plan had been the same with Benjamin.
However, Benjamin gave up naps about three weeks before school began. Sleep deprived from night nursing Juliette, I left him with the soother because every day I hoped he might nap again. Now I find myself one week into school for him, and he still uses the soother at night.
I tried a few different things. I tried telling him that as a big boy he didn't need it. I tried telling him we would throw them all away and go buy a special treat. I tried telling him we could gift them to a new baby (who, Ben insisted, would trade them for chocolate.) I had that last one all worked out. Benjamin chose a little baby, his friend's baby brother, and I bought little chocolate bars to trade, one for each soother (yes, we have a stash!) But no matter much we talked about it and agreed upon it during the day, come nighttime Benjamin was too emotional to remember the rational conversation from earlier in the day.
So I've let it go, for now. Sometimes using major life events are a great way to transition. Sometimes it's too much all at once. Benjamin is tired come dinner time, and although he doesn't nap after lunch, he still can't quite make it (pleasantly) all the way to bedtime. I plan to give him another month or so and see how he's doing, then maybe try again. Or not. The thing you realize this far into parenting is not to sweat the small stuff. And this, this is small stuff :)
However, Benjamin gave up naps about three weeks before school began. Sleep deprived from night nursing Juliette, I left him with the soother because every day I hoped he might nap again. Now I find myself one week into school for him, and he still uses the soother at night.
I tried a few different things. I tried telling him that as a big boy he didn't need it. I tried telling him we would throw them all away and go buy a special treat. I tried telling him we could gift them to a new baby (who, Ben insisted, would trade them for chocolate.) I had that last one all worked out. Benjamin chose a little baby, his friend's baby brother, and I bought little chocolate bars to trade, one for each soother (yes, we have a stash!) But no matter much we talked about it and agreed upon it during the day, come nighttime Benjamin was too emotional to remember the rational conversation from earlier in the day.
So I've let it go, for now. Sometimes using major life events are a great way to transition. Sometimes it's too much all at once. Benjamin is tired come dinner time, and although he doesn't nap after lunch, he still can't quite make it (pleasantly) all the way to bedtime. I plan to give him another month or so and see how he's doing, then maybe try again. Or not. The thing you realize this far into parenting is not to sweat the small stuff. And this, this is small stuff :)
Friday, 20 September 2013
Work, training, schooling
One of the cutest things the boys do right now is pretend to work where Daddy works. James owns and operates a small family business, a moving company that specializes in helping seniors move into retirement homes. It's a far cry from the film degree he earned in university, but he is a real life president of a real life company that is pretty successful. For the last 7 years he has put his nose to the grindstone and built it up into a thriving company.
So the boys love to play "Senior Moving." They pick furniture up and move it around the home. If I need something toted to the car, or in the backyard, they always come together and pick it up and chatter about how they are moving like they do in Daddy's company. James came up with a little jingle for the business a few years back, and the boys sing it as they go. Priceless.
They also talk about one day doing what Daddy does. There has been some talk lately about jobs, careers, and also university and schooling. What university did Daddy go to? Then comes the conversation about how although those four years taught Daddy a lot, they didn't have much to do with owning and operating a moving company. What university will we go to? Well, that depends on what you want to do.
I realized that while some professions and careers will always require higher education schooling, training, and certification (the medical profession, for example), I wonder if by the time Colin is college-age if post-secondary education will hold the same level of importance it holds today. Already you can see in some job postings "university degree or equivalent experience." Employers are recognizing two things: 1) that most of the real-world learning you do doesn't happen in a classroom and 2) anyone can learn the specifics of an industry if they have a strong work ethic, critical thinking skills, and an ability to learn and be taught. The result, I believe, is that universities and colleges will return to their original purposes: the former to experience and engage in ideas, and the latter to train for specific trades where a mentor is unknown or unavailable. We will lose (finally!) this idea that we must attend school in order to be ready to work. We will acknowledge (finally!) the knowledge of experts within the field and years of experience rather than the authority of textbooks.
So, for now, I tell my boys that if they want to do what Daddy does, then they won't need to go to university. Instead, they will work alongside their father, watching, learning, (failing,) understanding, engaging. In seven years James managed to figure most of it out on his own, and learned the rest from his own entrepreneurial father. In the four years the boys would spend in university, they would learn much, much more from working day to day actually running a business.
So the boys love to play "Senior Moving." They pick furniture up and move it around the home. If I need something toted to the car, or in the backyard, they always come together and pick it up and chatter about how they are moving like they do in Daddy's company. James came up with a little jingle for the business a few years back, and the boys sing it as they go. Priceless.
They also talk about one day doing what Daddy does. There has been some talk lately about jobs, careers, and also university and schooling. What university did Daddy go to? Then comes the conversation about how although those four years taught Daddy a lot, they didn't have much to do with owning and operating a moving company. What university will we go to? Well, that depends on what you want to do.
I realized that while some professions and careers will always require higher education schooling, training, and certification (the medical profession, for example), I wonder if by the time Colin is college-age if post-secondary education will hold the same level of importance it holds today. Already you can see in some job postings "university degree or equivalent experience." Employers are recognizing two things: 1) that most of the real-world learning you do doesn't happen in a classroom and 2) anyone can learn the specifics of an industry if they have a strong work ethic, critical thinking skills, and an ability to learn and be taught. The result, I believe, is that universities and colleges will return to their original purposes: the former to experience and engage in ideas, and the latter to train for specific trades where a mentor is unknown or unavailable. We will lose (finally!) this idea that we must attend school in order to be ready to work. We will acknowledge (finally!) the knowledge of experts within the field and years of experience rather than the authority of textbooks.
So, for now, I tell my boys that if they want to do what Daddy does, then they won't need to go to university. Instead, they will work alongside their father, watching, learning, (failing,) understanding, engaging. In seven years James managed to figure most of it out on his own, and learned the rest from his own entrepreneurial father. In the four years the boys would spend in university, they would learn much, much more from working day to day actually running a business.
Thursday, 19 September 2013
Piano lessons
The time has come: we have started piano lessons. I wasn't sure when, or even if, I would ever teach my kids piano. You'd think that after 15 years+ of teaching other people it would only be logical to take my own children on as students. But I have heard from many people that it is next to impossible to teach your own children piano lessons.
I had considered the idea of swapping lessons with a friend of mine who wants her children to take lessons, but is equally reticent to take on the challenge. But in trying to simplify our schedule this year, it was looking like another night to try and rush out the door, another night that seems entirely eaten up with just a one hour time block. So I thought I would at least give it a go.
One of the main challenges of teaching your own children is the temptation to just "fit it in" when you can during the week. That is the easiest way for it not to happen. Because finding an extra quiet hour every week hasn't happened in 8 years of raising kids yet. Also, our piano is on the main floor of our home, which is a huge wide open concept layout. Plus the piano is in the playroom, which has all the toys, and which also serves as the gateway from the house to the backyard. There is no way I could keep everyone out for a solid hour of uninterrupted music lessons.
So here is our solution: we've chosen Tuesdays right after dinner. Tuesday nights our local Early Years Centre is open late, so James can take Benjamin and Juliette there to play. Then I do a half hour lesson with each of the older boys. When they are not in lesson, they must sit in their room and quietly read.
First night...success!
Both boys are uber excited to start. I have two new lesson books that I've never used before, each one geared to the type and age of child. Caleb has a strong desire to get on there and get his fingers moving. Whether the notes and rhythms are right or wrong, it doesn't matter so much as long as he's strengthening those finger muscles and showing enthusiasm for making music. Colin's mathematical brain is going to make him a quick sight-reader. His program is based on sight-reading the notes, which means you are playing real songs right away. The book asks the student to memorize where tow notes are on the keyboard, and then read all the other notes in relation to those two. At first, I was fighting Colin on this method...all he wanted to do was read the notes in relation to the one he had previously played. Then I realized that what he was doing is exactly what this method is heading toward, and he had jumped a bunch of steps to get there.
I am so excited to start the kids on their musical journey. Yes, we will very likely be one of those families where everyone plays multiple instruments and we perform together. And I love that idea.
I had considered the idea of swapping lessons with a friend of mine who wants her children to take lessons, but is equally reticent to take on the challenge. But in trying to simplify our schedule this year, it was looking like another night to try and rush out the door, another night that seems entirely eaten up with just a one hour time block. So I thought I would at least give it a go.
One of the main challenges of teaching your own children is the temptation to just "fit it in" when you can during the week. That is the easiest way for it not to happen. Because finding an extra quiet hour every week hasn't happened in 8 years of raising kids yet. Also, our piano is on the main floor of our home, which is a huge wide open concept layout. Plus the piano is in the playroom, which has all the toys, and which also serves as the gateway from the house to the backyard. There is no way I could keep everyone out for a solid hour of uninterrupted music lessons.
So here is our solution: we've chosen Tuesdays right after dinner. Tuesday nights our local Early Years Centre is open late, so James can take Benjamin and Juliette there to play. Then I do a half hour lesson with each of the older boys. When they are not in lesson, they must sit in their room and quietly read.
First night...success!
Both boys are uber excited to start. I have two new lesson books that I've never used before, each one geared to the type and age of child. Caleb has a strong desire to get on there and get his fingers moving. Whether the notes and rhythms are right or wrong, it doesn't matter so much as long as he's strengthening those finger muscles and showing enthusiasm for making music. Colin's mathematical brain is going to make him a quick sight-reader. His program is based on sight-reading the notes, which means you are playing real songs right away. The book asks the student to memorize where tow notes are on the keyboard, and then read all the other notes in relation to those two. At first, I was fighting Colin on this method...all he wanted to do was read the notes in relation to the one he had previously played. Then I realized that what he was doing is exactly what this method is heading toward, and he had jumped a bunch of steps to get there.
I am so excited to start the kids on their musical journey. Yes, we will very likely be one of those families where everyone plays multiple instruments and we perform together. And I love that idea.
Wednesday, 18 September 2013
Yelling
Do you yell?
I hope you do. Because then that means I'm not alone in my failure. I was thinking this morning about yelling at the kids after they haven't listened the first 4,938 times I asked them to do something. I was thinking about yelling when they are being obstinate. I was thinking about yelling because I am tired or stressed.
Then I was thinking about my own imperfections. I was thinking about how it wouldn't improve my behaviour very much if someone yelled at me because of something lousy I did. I was thinking about how the Holy Spirit doesn't yell, but can still convect me of a behaviour I know I need to change. I was thinking about how yelling doesn't really accomplish anything.
Nothing. Nothing at all. Really, when you think about it, while what you are saying might be very important, or might need to get through to someone, using a very loud, yelling voice doesn't improve the transmission of that idea. In fact, it most often would have the opposite effect; our natural defence to being berated is to shut down or put up a protective shell. Essentially, we block out the abuse.
Benjamin has been giving us a run for our money for two years now. The behaviour that most often gets us going is the pure stubborness. He will stand there and refuse to comply with what needs to happen. Sometimes I have the time to talk it through, cajole, cater to his insistence, but sometimes it just needs doing now. And then after asking and asking and asking I lose my cool and I yell.
Do you yell?
I hope you don't. I hope you have mastered the patience it takes to swallow that urge when it rises within. I hope you mastered it so well that it is no longer a part of you, that simply have a peaceful nature. Because that gives me hope that one day I, too, will overcome this weakness within.
I hope you do. Because then that means I'm not alone in my failure. I was thinking this morning about yelling at the kids after they haven't listened the first 4,938 times I asked them to do something. I was thinking about yelling when they are being obstinate. I was thinking about yelling because I am tired or stressed.
Then I was thinking about my own imperfections. I was thinking about how it wouldn't improve my behaviour very much if someone yelled at me because of something lousy I did. I was thinking about how the Holy Spirit doesn't yell, but can still convect me of a behaviour I know I need to change. I was thinking about how yelling doesn't really accomplish anything.
Nothing. Nothing at all. Really, when you think about it, while what you are saying might be very important, or might need to get through to someone, using a very loud, yelling voice doesn't improve the transmission of that idea. In fact, it most often would have the opposite effect; our natural defence to being berated is to shut down or put up a protective shell. Essentially, we block out the abuse.
Benjamin has been giving us a run for our money for two years now. The behaviour that most often gets us going is the pure stubborness. He will stand there and refuse to comply with what needs to happen. Sometimes I have the time to talk it through, cajole, cater to his insistence, but sometimes it just needs doing now. And then after asking and asking and asking I lose my cool and I yell.
Do you yell?
I hope you don't. I hope you have mastered the patience it takes to swallow that urge when it rises within. I hope you mastered it so well that it is no longer a part of you, that simply have a peaceful nature. Because that gives me hope that one day I, too, will overcome this weakness within.
Monday, 16 September 2013
Enough
This thought had particularly good timing.
"As you start this week, may you find contentment in the pursuit of enough. With money, time, relationships, your home, and even your dreams and goals, may you peacefully and boldly pursue that sweet spot called enough, where you aren’t in need, but also aren’t burdened with needless abundance.
And in this process, may you enjoy the immediate benefit of finding your definition of enough—that you can slow down, better enjoy the journey of it all, and remove the chains of our culture so often weigh us down. The ones that tell us we constantly have to do and be more."
(Tsh Oxenreider)
"As you start this week, may you find contentment in the pursuit of enough. With money, time, relationships, your home, and even your dreams and goals, may you peacefully and boldly pursue that sweet spot called enough, where you aren’t in need, but also aren’t burdened with needless abundance.
And in this process, may you enjoy the immediate benefit of finding your definition of enough—that you can slow down, better enjoy the journey of it all, and remove the chains of our culture so often weigh us down. The ones that tell us we constantly have to do and be more."
(Tsh Oxenreider)
Sunday, 15 September 2013
Easy distractions
I read this from author and speaker Sheri Dew today. She is a warrior of a woman, who speaks with such honesty and simplicity that every message resonates to the core.
"Recently a professional assignment required me to travel out of the country. But I felt such a foreboding about the trip that prior to leaving I sought a priesthood blessing. I was warned that the adversary would attempt to thwart my mission and that physical and spiritual danger lay ahead. I was also counseled that this was not to be a sight-seeing or a shopping trip and that if I would focus on my assignments and seek the direction of the Spirit, I would return safely home.
Well, the warning was sobering. But as I proceeded, pleading for direction and protection each step of the way, I realized that my experience wasn’t all that unique. Might not our Father have said to you and to me as we left His presence: “The adversary will attempt to thwart your mission, and you will face spiritual and physical danger. But if you will focus on your assignments, if you will heed my voice, and if you will refuse to reduce mortality to a sight-seeing or a shopping trip, you will return safely home”?
The adversary is delighted when we act like sightseers, meaning those who are hearers rather than doers of the word (see James 1:22), or shoppers, meaning those preoccupied with the vain things of this world that suffocate our spirits. Satan baits us with perishable pleasures and preoccupations—our bank accounts, our wardrobes, even our waistlines—for he knows that where our treasure is, there will our hearts be also (see Matt. 6:21). Unfortunately, it is easy to let the blinding glare of the adversary’s enticements distract us from the light of Christ. “For what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?” (Matt. 16:26)."
"Recently a professional assignment required me to travel out of the country. But I felt such a foreboding about the trip that prior to leaving I sought a priesthood blessing. I was warned that the adversary would attempt to thwart my mission and that physical and spiritual danger lay ahead. I was also counseled that this was not to be a sight-seeing or a shopping trip and that if I would focus on my assignments and seek the direction of the Spirit, I would return safely home.
Well, the warning was sobering. But as I proceeded, pleading for direction and protection each step of the way, I realized that my experience wasn’t all that unique. Might not our Father have said to you and to me as we left His presence: “The adversary will attempt to thwart your mission, and you will face spiritual and physical danger. But if you will focus on your assignments, if you will heed my voice, and if you will refuse to reduce mortality to a sight-seeing or a shopping trip, you will return safely home”?
The adversary is delighted when we act like sightseers, meaning those who are hearers rather than doers of the word (see James 1:22), or shoppers, meaning those preoccupied with the vain things of this world that suffocate our spirits. Satan baits us with perishable pleasures and preoccupations—our bank accounts, our wardrobes, even our waistlines—for he knows that where our treasure is, there will our hearts be also (see Matt. 6:21). Unfortunately, it is easy to let the blinding glare of the adversary’s enticements distract us from the light of Christ. “For what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?” (Matt. 16:26)."
Saturday, 14 September 2013
Thursday, 12 September 2013
Captains in this war
I had an interesting conversation with two other mothers yesterday. We talked about the growing trend of how teen girls are viewing the role of stay-at-home moms. While there still seems to be some who understand the value of staying at home with their children while the kids are young, a growing number of young girls are planning now to head back to the workforce once their youngest child is in school.
I wondered aloud if this burgeoning idea is a result of the current image of mothers. Somehow, an image of the 1950's mother has stuck to us, despite historical proof that mothers in past cultures have had enormous influence and held important positions in society.
That 1950's housewife/mother is delicate and should not be exposed to anything unpleasant in life. She is well-groomed and well-dressed, performing a handful of housework in heels and a matching hair bow. She rests in order not to over-exert herself, and entertains a weak mind by watching the intrigues of soap operas on television. She is not to worry her little head over things outside of her home, let alone in the world.
While that "picture perfect" version might be laughed at today, there is a core part of this idea that is deeply entrenched. It is that women at home are simply moving about, cleaning floors and children and walls. It is that as long as the children are fed and not screaming when their father gets home, the task of motherhood is accomplished. It is that these women look weary from listening to squabbling all day and are worn down from interceding in sibling rivalry. It is that relief will come once she can ship them off to school and resume life.
Where is the fearless warrior woman of so many societies gone by? I think of the pioneer women who pulled handcarts clear across the United States and built up cities as they went. I think of tribal women who had to defend their villages against attack while their men were away hunting food. I think of Roman matriarchs who pulled the political strings behind the scenes. I think of the Greeks who had a female goddess of war. I think of Cleopatra and Queen Elizabeth I who ruled nations. I think of mothers who inspired their children to literally change the world.
I wonder if we can abolish this 50's housewife image and replace it with the idea that we mothers are fearless captains in a mighty war. We have to fight for our children against the craziness that exists in the world out there. We have to arm them against the negative influences of media and destructive mainstream thoughts and practices. I am not a delicate waif playing a gentle board game while my apple pie bakes in the oven; I am a warrior arming and inspiring and leading my own little army. It is not enough for me to just make sure the kids are alive and fed at the end of the day, I must, and I will, make sure they are equipped to be the very best this world has to offer.
I want young girls to see this image of mighty mothers, to see that this is not work for the faint of heart, weak in mind or undedicated in spirit. Anything less will produce weak-minded and weak-bodied minions fit for little else than to be consumers of the world. I will not give over my children to such a fate, and I will have to work and fight hard for the result I want.
I wondered aloud if this burgeoning idea is a result of the current image of mothers. Somehow, an image of the 1950's mother has stuck to us, despite historical proof that mothers in past cultures have had enormous influence and held important positions in society.
That 1950's housewife/mother is delicate and should not be exposed to anything unpleasant in life. She is well-groomed and well-dressed, performing a handful of housework in heels and a matching hair bow. She rests in order not to over-exert herself, and entertains a weak mind by watching the intrigues of soap operas on television. She is not to worry her little head over things outside of her home, let alone in the world.
While that "picture perfect" version might be laughed at today, there is a core part of this idea that is deeply entrenched. It is that women at home are simply moving about, cleaning floors and children and walls. It is that as long as the children are fed and not screaming when their father gets home, the task of motherhood is accomplished. It is that these women look weary from listening to squabbling all day and are worn down from interceding in sibling rivalry. It is that relief will come once she can ship them off to school and resume life.
Where is the fearless warrior woman of so many societies gone by? I think of the pioneer women who pulled handcarts clear across the United States and built up cities as they went. I think of tribal women who had to defend their villages against attack while their men were away hunting food. I think of Roman matriarchs who pulled the political strings behind the scenes. I think of the Greeks who had a female goddess of war. I think of Cleopatra and Queen Elizabeth I who ruled nations. I think of mothers who inspired their children to literally change the world.
I wonder if we can abolish this 50's housewife image and replace it with the idea that we mothers are fearless captains in a mighty war. We have to fight for our children against the craziness that exists in the world out there. We have to arm them against the negative influences of media and destructive mainstream thoughts and practices. I am not a delicate waif playing a gentle board game while my apple pie bakes in the oven; I am a warrior arming and inspiring and leading my own little army. It is not enough for me to just make sure the kids are alive and fed at the end of the day, I must, and I will, make sure they are equipped to be the very best this world has to offer.
I want young girls to see this image of mighty mothers, to see that this is not work for the faint of heart, weak in mind or undedicated in spirit. Anything less will produce weak-minded and weak-bodied minions fit for little else than to be consumers of the world. I will not give over my children to such a fate, and I will have to work and fight hard for the result I want.
Tuesday, 10 September 2013
Backyard baseball
Our boys love baseball, and our boys are not quiet. The result: a neighbour from a couple houses down knocked at our gate last evening, and with a smile on her face asked: "I've finished all my chores...can I play?" Did I mention this neighbour is a lovely single lady 57 years of age? She said she had heard our many games over the summer and wanted to join in.
We welcomed her in and played on into the evening. It was a little out of my comfort zone, at first. I've said a few words in greeting to her, but not much more than that. And my trusty extroverted husband was away on a business retreat. Luckily, my lovely children turned on their charm tenfold and it all went smoothly.
Colin said that we should change our batting order (youngest to oldest) to let our guest go first.
Caleb said that Juliette, Katy (the neighbour) and I should go first because we are "babies and ladies."
Benjamin even offered up the bat (unheard of!) to Katy, begging her to hit the ball far.
Juliette just laughed and giggled and hit (yes!) and threw balls (yes) and ran the bases (she love baseball!)
Making our world smaller, one neighbour at a time :)
We welcomed her in and played on into the evening. It was a little out of my comfort zone, at first. I've said a few words in greeting to her, but not much more than that. And my trusty extroverted husband was away on a business retreat. Luckily, my lovely children turned on their charm tenfold and it all went smoothly.
Colin said that we should change our batting order (youngest to oldest) to let our guest go first.
Caleb said that Juliette, Katy (the neighbour) and I should go first because we are "babies and ladies."
Benjamin even offered up the bat (unheard of!) to Katy, begging her to hit the ball far.
Juliette just laughed and giggled and hit (yes!) and threw balls (yes) and ran the bases (she love baseball!)
Making our world smaller, one neighbour at a time :)
Taking the easy way
I've recently made a goal to bike more and drive less, when the weather permits. The decision is more of a health one (I don't like to "exercise" specifically, but I do love sports and biking) than environmental. This is an easy way to get fresh air, exercise, and model for the kids the same.
So yesterday morning I needed to pick up book from a friend, so I put Juliette in the bike carrier and made my way across town, picked up the book, and then came home. As I pulled into the driveway and manoeuvred between the two cars sitting there, I chuckled a little. I wonder what the "pioneers" (or generations of previous centuries) would think of me riding my bike with two vehicles just sitting there? Would they celebrate my desire to stay healthy, or would they wonder why on earth I wouldn't take advantage of such a marvellous invention?
Would they marvel at the washing machine and dishwasher and vacuum and fridge and ready made food and dream of all the extra things they could get done with these time-saving devices. Here we are, desperate to hold onto something "gone by" and so we try to limit these new things, taking the time to bike or can our own food or set two children on washing dishes by hand. What is it that we are after? I know the "grass is always greener on the other side" but I wonder, really wonder, if our ancestors would praise these efforts or be completely bewildered by them. I wonder if they would have other answers to the family togetherness or less hurried pace or whatever it is we are looking for. I wonder if they could embrace these technological advances and use that spare time for something even more productive than we have managed today?
Monday, 9 September 2013
Today I...
Today I...
Put all three boys on the bus to school.
Biked across town to a friend's house to pick up our new piano curriculum.
Decluttered the main floor surface areas.
Decorated for fall.
Wrote up three new songs with guitar chords.
Practiced those song on guitar.
Went to the store to buy bike locks and a few other things.
Sorted through and organized the costume box.
Had a nap.
Researched for my next scripture study outline.
Listened to two Focus on the Family broadcasts.
Found and made a new cookie recipe Juliette can eat.
Folded laundry.
Cuddled and snuggled with Juliette.
Read some books with Juliette.
Browsed through the new piano books.
Put away all the accumulation of stuff on the stairs.
Played the piano for fun, the first time in years.
Picked up the boys from the bus.
Today I feel great. Today has been a testament to the sacrifices an introvert makes to be a stay at home mom. I have a clarity about me that I haven't felt since Colin was one (seven years ago.) I feel reawakened. I have basked in the quiet calm that is here in our home. I was recharged to welcome my three boys home.
This is a new era. We are marching forward. I am embracing it.
Put all three boys on the bus to school.
Biked across town to a friend's house to pick up our new piano curriculum.
Decluttered the main floor surface areas.
Decorated for fall.
Wrote up three new songs with guitar chords.
Practiced those song on guitar.
Went to the store to buy bike locks and a few other things.
Sorted through and organized the costume box.
Had a nap.
Researched for my next scripture study outline.
Listened to two Focus on the Family broadcasts.
Found and made a new cookie recipe Juliette can eat.
Folded laundry.
Cuddled and snuggled with Juliette.
Read some books with Juliette.
Browsed through the new piano books.
Put away all the accumulation of stuff on the stairs.
Played the piano for fun, the first time in years.
Picked up the boys from the bus.
Today I feel great. Today has been a testament to the sacrifices an introvert makes to be a stay at home mom. I have a clarity about me that I haven't felt since Colin was one (seven years ago.) I feel reawakened. I have basked in the quiet calm that is here in our home. I was recharged to welcome my three boys home.
This is a new era. We are marching forward. I am embracing it.
Saturday, 7 September 2013
When less is more
I read this from a friend's blog today, about her decision to leave her full time out-of-the-house job and stay at home:
"Less days of working means more days of hanging out, just being. Less money to spend makes for more days at home, working together to make our world a better place. It also means less crap in our lives, more room to breathe, more room to just live. It seems to be in this state that we are happiest."
Less is more. I love the connection she makes that less money means more room in our homes. I feel like I'm in a constant battle to de-clutter this place. I love the look and feel of an airy, open house and I'm always on a quest to send things out the door.
I'm getting much better. I just purged my closet and parted with some items of clothing that I really loved but that are just too big now and never look right when I put them on. I've stopped storing Dollar store purchases (party supplies, most notably) that I know I would probably use again for another event, but I just don't want to store for another six months. Yes, that means I might have to buy it again, but that $10 is worth less to me than the breathable space around me.
I've been leafing through a Martha Stewart magazine on organizing. So many awesome ideas. I picked up a bench with storage to sit under my kitchen window. It doubles as seating when we extend the table for company and tidies up the loose potatoes, breads, and clothes that were overflowing from under the microwave. I purged more from the playroom (an ongoing battle) and I'm on the lookout for a big double bookshelf for more storage. A couple of dresser drawers (anyone getting rid of any?) and some wheels will finally conquer the under-bed storage. And one last end table for the living room will finally hide away the magazines and controllers.
When you're living in a tight space like we are, less is not just more, it is necessary. I love our home, and I can go on for paragraphs on the merits of a small home, 3 boys in one bedroom, a main floor playroom, etc, but it forces me to keep on top of the mess, or we might never find our way out!
"Less days of working means more days of hanging out, just being. Less money to spend makes for more days at home, working together to make our world a better place. It also means less crap in our lives, more room to breathe, more room to just live. It seems to be in this state that we are happiest."
Less is more. I love the connection she makes that less money means more room in our homes. I feel like I'm in a constant battle to de-clutter this place. I love the look and feel of an airy, open house and I'm always on a quest to send things out the door.
I'm getting much better. I just purged my closet and parted with some items of clothing that I really loved but that are just too big now and never look right when I put them on. I've stopped storing Dollar store purchases (party supplies, most notably) that I know I would probably use again for another event, but I just don't want to store for another six months. Yes, that means I might have to buy it again, but that $10 is worth less to me than the breathable space around me.
I've been leafing through a Martha Stewart magazine on organizing. So many awesome ideas. I picked up a bench with storage to sit under my kitchen window. It doubles as seating when we extend the table for company and tidies up the loose potatoes, breads, and clothes that were overflowing from under the microwave. I purged more from the playroom (an ongoing battle) and I'm on the lookout for a big double bookshelf for more storage. A couple of dresser drawers (anyone getting rid of any?) and some wheels will finally conquer the under-bed storage. And one last end table for the living room will finally hide away the magazines and controllers.
When you're living in a tight space like we are, less is not just more, it is necessary. I love our home, and I can go on for paragraphs on the merits of a small home, 3 boys in one bedroom, a main floor playroom, etc, but it forces me to keep on top of the mess, or we might never find our way out!
Friday, 6 September 2013
Autumn
Autumn has arrived. I have lovely honey-pear scent filling the house, our closets are filled with sweaters, and the furnace is taking the edge off of the 3C overnight chill. I love it!
The happy camping days are done, the older two kids are off to school, with number three to follow next week. There are a few projects left unfinished that I hopefully will get to soon.
September is forever the time for new beginnings for me. I like to pause, reflect, ponder. I make lists and goals and charts. I refocus and rededicate. I shift and make off in new directions.
Right now I'm feeling some turmoil. I recently wrote about writing off gardening, and when a friend mentioned canning, I realized that I lump gardening and canning into the same category. They are two things I've always felt I should do, things that my friends around me do, things that women I admire do. And yet I find no pleasure in either the act or the results. Gardens are neglected while my busy days are full of caring for my children. Canning is left on the bottom of the to-do list and I just never seem to get there. My pot and jars, as yet unused, have been gathering dust for years.
Yes, I enjoy snacking on fresh cherry tomatoes. Yes, I like canned pears and salsa. But, for me, the fresh local tomatoes and store-bought frozen fruit are just as enjoyable.
I am going to stop seeing this area of my life as a failure, something I need to work harder on, something to which I should aspire. I need to realize that while I am drawn to women who might grow and preserve their own foods, it is not this exact thing which I admire in them. Rather, it is their dedication to their homes, their husbands, their children. It is a way that they have found to express their love, to use their hands to serve. They are making their homes a haven from the outside world, they are stretching themselves to provide healthy meals for their loved ones' bodies.
I am going to believe (not just tell myself) that I am not failing because I haven't yet found a way to work this into my days, or develop a love for it. While I still want to challenge myself and engage in hard work and try things that I have not previously been successful at, it's okay to let go of this one. It will make room for something new.
The happy camping days are done, the older two kids are off to school, with number three to follow next week. There are a few projects left unfinished that I hopefully will get to soon.
September is forever the time for new beginnings for me. I like to pause, reflect, ponder. I make lists and goals and charts. I refocus and rededicate. I shift and make off in new directions.
Right now I'm feeling some turmoil. I recently wrote about writing off gardening, and when a friend mentioned canning, I realized that I lump gardening and canning into the same category. They are two things I've always felt I should do, things that my friends around me do, things that women I admire do. And yet I find no pleasure in either the act or the results. Gardens are neglected while my busy days are full of caring for my children. Canning is left on the bottom of the to-do list and I just never seem to get there. My pot and jars, as yet unused, have been gathering dust for years.
Yes, I enjoy snacking on fresh cherry tomatoes. Yes, I like canned pears and salsa. But, for me, the fresh local tomatoes and store-bought frozen fruit are just as enjoyable.
I am going to stop seeing this area of my life as a failure, something I need to work harder on, something to which I should aspire. I need to realize that while I am drawn to women who might grow and preserve their own foods, it is not this exact thing which I admire in them. Rather, it is their dedication to their homes, their husbands, their children. It is a way that they have found to express their love, to use their hands to serve. They are making their homes a haven from the outside world, they are stretching themselves to provide healthy meals for their loved ones' bodies.
I am going to believe (not just tell myself) that I am not failing because I haven't yet found a way to work this into my days, or develop a love for it. While I still want to challenge myself and engage in hard work and try things that I have not previously been successful at, it's okay to let go of this one. It will make room for something new.
Tuesday, 3 September 2013
Calebite
Our little ladies man was at it again last week. We went up with some friends back to the same camp we were at for the annual "Mom and Kids" camp, and lo and behold the girl he has been sweet on for two years running was also up again! They didn't get to see much of each other, but that didn't stop him from waiting around at her campsite for an hour while her family packed up to leave. He was too shy to say much, but stood watch vigilantly to wave goodbye. He darted in for a hug as she left, and then ran after the van as it drove off.
Later that night, as we walked along the camp road, he looked up at me and said:
"I don't have to be too sad that Amy left. I can just look down here (pats his chest) and smile because she is always in my heart."
(Awwww.)
She left the second day we were there. The last night at our campfire, I sang the song "Mm-mmm I wanna linger" for everyone, a lovely little nostalgic campsong that talks about goodnights, not goodbyes, and remembering our memories as the years go by. Caleb crawled into my lap, his head lowered, and softly whispered "That song makes me think of Amy."
(Awwww.)
He is going to make someone feel like the only girl in the world one day.
Later that night, as we walked along the camp road, he looked up at me and said:
"I don't have to be too sad that Amy left. I can just look down here (pats his chest) and smile because she is always in my heart."
(Awwww.)
She left the second day we were there. The last night at our campfire, I sang the song "Mm-mmm I wanna linger" for everyone, a lovely little nostalgic campsong that talks about goodnights, not goodbyes, and remembering our memories as the years go by. Caleb crawled into my lap, his head lowered, and softly whispered "That song makes me think of Amy."
(Awwww.)
He is going to make someone feel like the only girl in the world one day.
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