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.

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 :)

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?

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.

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!

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.

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.