On Relationships and Time

Last night my oldest daughter and I slipped away from the rest of the family for a quick Target run. This week has us traveling to Pittsburgh for a family wedding and that brings along with it a fair amount of scrambling. Tights for four girls, dress shoes for three, dress pants for this boy and a dress shirt for that - goodness. Packing 9 people to go anywhere is a feat, but formal wear for 9 is something else altogether. We had a list and a window of opportunity while Dad held down the fort.

We actually left the store empty handed after all - ideas of other places to check for our needed items, but as we walked through the parking lot in the gathering dusk, I noticed an SUV with it's reverse lights on just there ahead. Instinctively, I put my arm around my daughter's shoulders to hurry her along. That's when she put her arm around my waist and I realized she hadn't seen the car at all - she just thought we were having a moment. I'm not a very physical mama but my heart felt like it might explode as we walked the rest of the way to our car just like that - holding each other like the very best of friends.

This year has been one of relationships. As my best friend prepares to move across the country in a week and my oldest brother ties the knot, when another breaks the news of a big move and raising kids has never been more difficult, relationships are front and center in my mind.

The truth is, I'm a relationship slacker. I've had the same friends since I was a kid. Sure, I have acquaintances and friends along the way, but I'm a known phone-avoider and usually prefer knitting and jammies to a night out. A few years ago, when my best friend began investing in other relationships and encouraging me to come along, I told her I just couldn't - my plate was full. And full it is - with 7 kids, a husband, a best friend and my family nearby, it just didn't seem feasible to cram in any other relationships. Besides, I didn't really need them, did I?

Sometimes it takes a few big life changes and challenges to shake up what you thought you needed - and who you thought needed you. Something to make you take a closer look at how you're using your time and beg the question - is this what God has for you right now? Or are you called to something different?

When my best friend told me she was moving, my selfish, knee jerk reaction was one of complete self centeredness. "What will I do?" I wondered. She holds my secrets and loves me knowing all my faults. She's been a constant during so many seasons. What will I do without her? While I am still working through the grief of her move, I am now looking ahead with a different set of questions. What will this open me up to? Who is God going to bring along next?

Last night, my daughter and I talked about her future over smoothies in the van after an all but failed shopping trip, and while I listened to her talk, it occurred to me - our relationship is changing. As she grows, we grow. Just as my Mom is one of my dearest people, I hope that someday she will say the same about me. With an eye on that goal, I can work to shape our relationship into one that stands the test of time, age, distance. In the meantime, I'm praying for good friends, yes, but to grow into being a good friend. And trusting that the one who holds my heart knows exactly what I need - and who needs me.

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The Kids That Built Me #MindfulMotheringMondays

There's a unique kind of unfurling that happens when your own childhood seamlessly melds into that of your own children. I've been thinking over the years and the babies and looking at how welcoming each and every one of these kids has stretched and grown me in ways nothing else possibly could.

I became a mom after the most selfish time in my life - and most people's lives - my 18th year. In those early years that followed, life was something of a tug of war. My selfish nature and desires in direct opposition with what motherhood requires: service. The struggle was stressful and hard as I fought to hold onto "me" while juggling the demands and needs of our rapidly growing brood.

A shift happens slowly, when life and parenting becomes less about how you experience it - and more about the people you are pouring all of your efforts into. Gradually I found that laying down my arms opened me up to receiving more than I could have ever forced. I found with surprise that I could peacefully coexist as "me" while also being what they needed.

I think about it at a midwife appointment on Friday, and how the term "my birth experience" rubs me the wrong way. I get it, because I've been there. Insistent that things go my way because it was mine. MY experience. MY birth. My story. Wasn't it? These days I find myself friends with compromise - something my unrelentingly judgmental 20 year old self would have scoffed at for being weak. But I know better now.

Time and love and people change you. Each one of these people in my home have changed how I view the world, other mothers, myself, and them. I become gentler each time. Softer. More forgiving. Less demanding. I think this all can be encompassed in just this: I grew up. Maybe other people get there more quickly, or have already arrived by the time they welcome their first little one. For me, I grew alongside them, day by day, year by year.

Each year, each child added, each season poses a new challenge to me - one I can fight against with all my feeble might, or one I can step up to, embrace, grasp with intention and purpose. When I choose the latter, it's not giving in. It's stepping up. Expanding my vision. Shouldering my past experiences and willingly looking forward to a new future.

My kids taught me that, by requiring it of me. My kids drew me out in ways nothing else could. My kids helped shape me in the 12 years since that stubborn 18 year old received the news her life would change and set her teeth that it wouldn't.

I declared I'd let nothing change me.

I'm so glad I was wrong.

{It's been a while since I've done Mindful Mothering Mondays, but I'm hoping to get back into it. Want to join? Add your link in the comments!}


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Dear Exhausted, Interrupted Mama

It's so predictable, it ought to be a law. Like Murphy's, or Newton's - seemingly self evident.

Anytime a Mama can be interrupted? She will be.

You may wait to make that important phone call until everything is calm, but rest assured a brawl will blow up as soon as you do.

Or wait til baby is asleep to paint your fingernails? Yeah, she'll wake up, even if she's been sleeping a predictable 2 hours every day at this time for the past 3 months.

Why is life like that? Why does it seem like every time something matters, every time you make a little reach for something - you're knocked right back on your heels?

I was thinking about it in Sunday school yesterday morning, watching Rosie draw circles on the bulletin and making a mental note to bring a magic eraser in my bag everywhere I go (sorry to my church for the accidental crayon on the table! eep!). We're talking about rest and work balance and as soon as he says those words I'm tempted to check out.

Talk to any Mom (but especially a Mom of littles) about rest and you might see her mentally check out. Work/rest balance? It almost seems like a cruel joke. Finding a bit of quiet, a bit of peace, a bit of rest? She'd be more likely to get out the door for a dinner date dressed to the nines without someone hugging her with messy spaghetti hands, and you know how rare that is.

There's a temptation to think that no one "gets" it. No one "gets" this law of Mothering. The incessant interruptions. The everything-that-can-be-messed-up-will mentality. Sure, we make peace with it in our own lives but when someone comes along and makes the suggestion that we sneak away for a little bit of rest? It's frustrating enough to make you swear off social interactions for good.

It's that creeping thought - either no one else is doing it or everyone is. It can feel like no one else understands the interruptions on your life - and that everyone else is somehow getting these smooth times of rest that you're missing out on.

But I read down, in Mark (Mk 6:30-34) - and I see it. Even when Jesus and his disciples went off in search of rest - people followed. It reminds me of my own little flock here, with their seemingly 6th sense about where I am at all times. People with no regard for my preferences, driven by their own needs. Jesus understands this, and his response? Compassion.

I feel relief pour right over me. I'm reminded that even when it seems like no one "gets" this - God always does. There's nothing we face, nothing we struggle with that He doesn't completely understand, even the interrupted attempts at rest.

Interruptions will keep happening. It's the law of Motherhood. We will wait til the stars align, pour ourselves a cup of tea and make an intentional attempt and sometimes, some glorious times? It will work. It will feel marvelous. It will be a deep, real, soul nourishing peace. But a lot of the times? It will be fertile ground for the next catastrophe. God knows this. And we do too.

There will be exhaustion on this road. There will be times when you need rest, seek out rest - and cannot have it. There will be time after time after time that you put the needs of your little flock above your own. There will. There will be days where you struggle to see anything good about any of it, where the only thing that keeps you dragging yourself to day's end is the steady stream of coffee you keep gulping down like a magical exhaustion antidote. That's service. That's laying down your life for another. That's Christ-like mothering.

Dear interrupted Mama - the interruptions are opportunities for compassion. Growth. Humility. Keep seeking peace. Keep seeking rest. When you do, you'll find it in ways and places you may not have if everything worked out how you planned. You'll grow stronger. You'll grow more patient. You'll find yourself tired but triumphant. And when rest does come, you'll recognize it for the incredible, supernatural gift that it is.

Mark 6:30-34

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Chaotic Christmas

Two boys are wrestling on the rug. Nearby Rosie is oblivious, playing with her play kitchen next to the side table where Fiona is playing a computer game on my lap top. Dinah is drawing over on the coffee table and I'm on the couch, feet up, knitting (always with the knitting). This room is loud. There are toys sprinkled here and there, books in haphazard stacks in any available space. The bookshelves are crammed with board games, art supplies and school books. We live in every inch of this space. In the corner, next to the TV, stands our Christmas tree. Right in the middle of our chaos.

I agonized over it, the tree this year next to the television. Silly, I know, but I kept thinking - I don't want a tv in the pictures I'll take of my kids in front of the tree! It didn't fit my vision of Christmas. Christmas as special, Christmas as set-apart. Christmas as somehow removed, glamorously different than our daily world.

In the house I grew up in, there were many spacious rooms. We always had our tree in the Living room, a room that was reserved for special events. Beyond practicing the piano, or my dad reading in there late at night, the living room was largely unused. The family room in the back was where we played and where the tv lived. The library was where we did school. The living room was special and so it made sense to me that that was our Christmas room. The place we decked out in Christmas finery each year.

It's funny, isn't it, how we hold tightly onto things in our lives, so sure of their absolute importance that it can cloud our thinking. The placement of my childhood tree made sense. We hosted a big family Christmas eve party each year and the whole house was thrown open wide for guests. But in my little house, there are no unused rooms. No special, company-only spaces. Each room used at max capacity.

For a while, it bothered me. Once the tree would go up, I'd try extra hard to keep our living room spotless, lecturing kids on picking up their toys and keeping things nice for Christmas. I've softened on that. Sure, I'll pick up on Christmas eve, maybe even run the vacuum before setting gifts under the tree so that Christmas morning dawns fresh and clean. But, really? We live here. This is our play room, our reading room, our wrestling room. It's the place where my kids lose puzzle pieces under the couch and Rosie sets play food on every surface. It's the space where they play video games and where I leave disorganized heaps of knitting here and there. It's our life. And right smack in the middle of life might just be exactly where Christmas is meant to come.

A glamorous, special, no-holds-barred Christmas is not wrong. But neither is Christmas right smack in the middle of every day life. For a King who came on an ordinary night to ordinary people in their ordinary lives, it kind of feels right. I'm reminded every night those kids head to bed and the lights on our tree shine out in the midst of evidence of another chaotic, regular day - that His light is constant in the chaos of life. A miracle shining brightly in the middle of the ordinary.

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Why I'm Done Caring I'm "Just" A Mom #MindfulMotheringMondays

The first day of advent saw me digging through the mess in the basement to find it, our one small box of Christmas/Advent supplies that always seems to get buried in the 11 months since we put it away last. I lugged it up the stairs and wondered aloud why I thought it wise to put the Advent wreath at the very bottom, under layer upon layer of ornaments and nativity characters. Ah well. I found it, fixed the candles in their places and turned to set it on the table. Except the table wasn't ready.

There were crumbs from someone's snack mixed with tiny paper clippings from someone else's craft everywhere. Someone had left a hoodie right in the middle, stripped off when the running and hollering that is their usual mode of entertainment had proved a bit too warm. I looked from the table to the wreath in my hand and shrugged, set it right down smack in the middle because that's what Advent looks like. That's what faith here looks like. That's what life looks like when you're just a mom like me.

This year I'm pregnant with my seventh and I'm thinking about it a lot, especially after Thanksgiving when conversations inevitably turn to "so, what's new with you?" Why Moms get so defensive about it. Whether you are "just" a mom for 6 weeks of maternity leave, or until your kids head to kindergarten, or maybe, like me, a seeming "lifer" in this role - why it smacks so hard. Why we bristle at the term, rush to assure those around us that we have so much more than "just" this to offer.

We get so scared of being defined by maternity, by the daily monotony of sippy cup filling and diaper changing and homework checking. Why? We worry that we will "lose ourselves," that our talents will go to waste, that the gifts God has given us somehow atrophy when not highlighted in a way where others can see them. We worry about living a small life, about boring our husbands with nothing but the daily rundown of what the kids did today. We worry about wasting our time, our talents, our youth. And yet...

Isn't that sort of what it's all about? Isn't that what Mary did? Accepting what God had given her, not bemoaning a loss of self but recognizing that doing what God had called her to do was the absolute point of life? Her charge was to be a Mother. The Mother of Christ.

Maybe our focus is in the wrong place. What if we considered that we aren't so much losing ourselves to our maternal side as losing ourselves in Him. That could change everything.

I'm not saying it's wrong to work outside the home as a mother. Absolutely not. Women, like men, are called to many many things. And this is true for whatever it is you are called to. Being "just" that, if it is what God has asked of you? Is enough. Being called to be "just" this, whatever that is, either for just today, or for the next twenty years - it is more than just enough. Using your gifts in the place He called you to is what those gifts were truly meant for. And it's there that they shine, not for your glory - but for His.

This Advent, I'm just a Mom. Pregnant with my seventh, lighting the Advent candles and having my babies join hands in prayer and pointing them toward Jesus. It's a humble life, often devoid of being noticed or appreciated by those I care for day in and day out. Some days it is the very last thing I'd like to do. But I remember that God calls us to lose our lives to find Him. To follow Him always, even and most especially when His path for us bucks conventional thinking. It's an Upside Down faith. 

Today I have a ton of laundry to do. The five year old lost another tooth. A co op class to plan. Three meals to make, four kids to educate, two toddlers to keep out of a trouble and a never-ending mess of a house to wrestle with. In short, just Mom things. Nothing extraordinary, nothing praiseworthy.

Today I'm just a Mom. And I'm completely fine with that.

 "If anyone wishes to come after Me, he must deny himself, and take up his cross and follow Me."

Mark 8:34

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Small Is Big #MindfulMotheringMondays

My house is little. I've written about it more than a few times, usually as our family is expanding and I'm wondering just how we will fit one more person in. I'm always hoping for something bigger, something better, wondering if maybe this will be the year when the stars align and we find ourselves somewhere that makes a bit more sense for a family of 9.

I use it as an excuse for not being more hospitable, which I know is wrong. It keeps a wall between me and others. Instead of extending what we have in love, I hold it close and feel that something that is hardly enough for us could never be good enough for someone else. Deep down I know that it has nothing to do with the state of our space, but the state of my heart. Pride always gets in the way.

This weekend my husband's parents visited. It was the perfect fall weekend full of everything good. On Saturday afternoon I found myself making dinner in the kitchen. The sun was shining brilliantly outside where we had just finished carving pumpkins, pushing kids on swings and leaping into leaf piles. In our little dining room, around our tiny table that hardly seats us comfortably, a game of Apples to Apples was in full swing. In the living room, knitting and pick up sticks and books. All was calm and quiet. All was cozy and happy and I found myself thinking for maybe the first time - that this place didn't seem too small. With six kids and four adults, it felt, if anything, just right.

I suppose that's how it goes. When you start looking around for what you have, not what you lack, you realize that the life you are waiting for is happening today. Right now. Snug with the people I love the most, I can see that we are nothing if not excessively, abundantly blessed.
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High Hopes #MindfulMotheringMondays

I had high hopes for this fall.

After a couple years where frost froze apple blossoms before they had a chance to bloom, I was looking forward to taking my kids back to the orchard. One of my favorite childhood memories with my parents and something my kids ask about each year. I thought maybe this would be the year we'd make costumes for Halloween - my gang has been chattering about being characters from the Narnia books we've been reading together. And I've got about a million patterns queued on my Ravelry page with Christmas ideas. Projects for cozy late nights at home in the deep darkness of Fall.

But this year looks a bit different. This year I'm finding myself once again sidelined. Not quite up for dragging six kids and huge bags of apples through the orchard. Not even thinking about costumes yet. A bit nauseated by knitting, which is cruel and unusual, but also too tired at night to stay up and attempt more than a row at a time anyway.

It's enough to squash those hopes right up, like a rotting apple under a toddlers shoe. All sickeningly sweet and so not what you're looking for. I just wanted a lovely fall, full of all the stereotypical fall things that I unabashedly love. Instead my house is a mess, fieldtrips impossible, days exhausting. It's disappointing and, worse, guilt inducing.

There's nothing quite like a side of Mommy-guilt with your morning sickness. Ask me how I know. 7 pregnancies and I still struggle to see past the worry that the big kids are shouldering too much or not getting enough. That we are missing out on everything good and it's all my fault. Because that's how it feels some days.

But on a cold Sunday afternoon when the kids had asked to go apple picking and we said no, no because Mama is tired, no because the babies need naps, no because it's just not a good time, my Jonah took matters into his own hands. He brought down a blanket from the upstairs cupboard and spread it over my knees on the couch. Then he went and made a little snack plate for me, slipped a movie in the Blu ray player and cuddled right up beside me. "You never watch movies with us," he said. "I like it when you do."

These kids teach me so much. Remind me so much. Show me so much mercy and point me to the right answer in more ways than I can count.He found a way to make the most of the day we had and worked within the circumstances to turn it into something special.

Life doesn't just happen within the parameters of planning. Sometimes just keeping your hands open to whatever life has to offer ends up blessing you more than you could have anticipated. No matter where we are and what we are up against, today there is a way to make the most of it. To choose joy, to choose fun, to choose love. To choose to cut loose expectations receive unexpected graces instead.

Finding ways to love the moments you're in is the way to unlock more joy than a perfectly posed photo of all six kids in front of an apple tree ever could. After 7 pregnancies, I'm still learning just this: Today is alive with more grace than any of us could ever fathom.

I can choose to focus on what isn't going my way - but to do so is to choose blindness. Instead, with the help of these kids? I'm keeping my eyes wide and hands open. There is goodness to be had in this moment and place and I don't want to miss a drop.



{It's Mindful Mothering Mondays, a day to take a deep breath and write out your mothering journey, whatever form it takes. A day to link up for encouragement from others who are in this same phase of life. A day of writing out the trials and triumphs and what you're learning right where you are, right now.

You might post recent struggles or thoughts. Maybe just a picture or a quote. Or maybe you'll just come here and read the links that others post. Whatever form your participation takes, this is a day for you.
We are all in this, together. Together, we can encourage and build one another up, be honest with our shortcomings and strengthened by community to keep fighting the good fight.

I chose Mondays because what Mama doesn't need a little encouragement on a Monday?

I hope you'll meet with me! Here's what to do ~

Link up your post below in the comments. Remember to put the link to the exact post you want to link, and not just your blog url. Include in your post a link back here so others who want to join in can find us! And visit some other Mamas who have linked up.

Post the community graphic within your post, so people who are reading your Mindful Mothering post can come back here and find the rest of us! You can use the hashtag #MindfulMotheringMondays on Twitter and Instagram to connect further.

Invite the writers of your favorite blogs to join in!

Share this meme with others on facebook and twitter. This community is for all moms, and the more that participate, the more we will be able to enjoy!!}

Grab the graphic here:

If you enjoyed this post, please consider leaving a comment or subscribing to future posts.  Thank you.

I Could Never...#MindfulMotheringMondays

My faith is not a fire
As much as it's a glow
A little burning ember
In my weary soul

 

~Audrey Assad~

 

 

 A while back a friend interviewed me on her website and asked specifically about how my faith informs my parenting. I'll admit the question surprised me a bit. I figured my faith as a Mom was just about the same as the faith of any spiritual Christian Mom. But the more I think about it now, the more I struggle and strain against how faith looks and feels and is in my life - the more I realize it's like anything - as unique as the person it belongs to.

Not all Moms are the same and we celebrate the differences we have. The way we use our own gifts to bless our families and raise our children, the artistry of building a life together and coloring it with our distinctive personalities and strengths.

For me, faith is the only way I make it through. It's me calling, begging, whimpering - be close today? Have my back? Fill in the gaps, cover my weaknesses and bless it? Faith is me starting every day and closing each night entreating Him to be right there beside me. Faith is me knowing that each and every success and failure, every mountain and every valley, every shining morning and storm riddled night - He's all good and all on my side. Even when I'm not.

At a park not too long ago, a woman asked me as our children played together - are all those kids yours? When I nodded a friendly yes and told her names and ages and added my signature - "it's a lot of work but I love it," she said "I could never..." And I know what she meant because me, too.  I could never...be enough. I could never do right by them all. I could never get it right all the time, keep my heart patient and my eyes on things above. I could never hold my tongue and tamp down my temper. I could never be the mother 6 wildly unique and precious people need. And yet...I have faith.

We all have our "I could never"s. I've got a stack of my own, but even as I leaf through them in my mind, I know that, if that was required of me? I could. Not because I'm confident in my crisis management abilities - on the contrary, dealing with my own immaturity is one of the biggest chores in my life. No, it's because of something more. A promise I memorized as a child and still hold close today.

So when I see that positive pregnancy test after a hard summer of job loss and gain, I take a day to doubt. To lose my faith. To sit in the center of my bed in tears and saying "I could never..."

And I wake up the next morning to the life He promised to meet me in, and I whisper "You still there? Good. You're gonna have to do the heavy lifting again. Let's do this."

"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."

Phillipians 4:13

 

 

My faith makes my parenting possible because with Him anything is. I grasp courage in my parenting when I let go of control and let Him lead me.

I hold onto that tightly, trusting that God can use it all to sanctify me, drawing me closer each day. These kids are God's unique way of refining me every day. Slowly sloughing off the rough edges and making me more and more into who He's planning for me to be. I believe Him. I make it through each and every day clinging to His word because it's all I have to carry me through.





{It's Mindful Mothering Mondays, a day to take a deep breath and write out your mothering journey, whatever form it takes. A day to link up for encouragement from others who are in this same phase of life. A day of writing out the trials and triumphs and what you're learning right where you are, right now.

You might post recent struggles or thoughts. Maybe just a picture or a quote. Or maybe you'll just come here and read the links that others post. Whatever form your participation takes, this is a day for you.
We are all in this, together. Together, we can encourage and build one another up, be honest with our shortcomings and strengthened by community to keep fighting the good fight.

I chose Mondays because what Mama doesn't need a little encouragement on a Monday?

I hope you'll meet with me! Here's what to do ~

Link up your post below in the comments. Remember to put the link to the exact post you want to link, and not just your blog url. Include in your post a link back here so others who want to join in can find us! And visit some other Mamas who have linked up.

Post the community graphic within your post, so people who are reading your Mindful Mothering post can come back here and find the rest of us! You can use the hashtag #MindfulMotheringMondays on Twitter and Instagram to connect further.

Invite the writers of your favorite blogs to join in!

Share this meme with others on facebook and twitter. This community is for all moms, and the more that participate, the more we will be able to enjoy!!}

Grab the graphic here:

If you enjoyed this post, please consider leaving a comment or subscribing to future posts.  Thank you.

Mama Transitions #MindfulMotheringMondays

I'm laying on the couch, book in hand, nose in book. On my side, with Rosie tucked in the crook my body makes, her legs draped over mine. In one hand she clutches an ever-present baby doll. With the other she carefully traces the shape of my lips, her eyes watching as she makes her way around and around Mommy's mouth. It's Saturday and we're just nursing in the way we do these days.

She's eighteen months now. It seems hardly possible that my baby is picking up new words by the dozen each day and is growing into such a little sassy personality. My big kids, too, keep growing and changing. Every one of us seems to be in transition. I feel that gnawing feeling that I say this all of the time, and I know it's because I do. I keep waiting for that day when we just are just as we are, but the more I live and watch seasons and people grow and change, the more I realize that life is transition. And I'm not sure that ever truly stops.

The girls are sprawled on the living room floor, making cards "just because" for every person they can think of. Neighbors and cousins and friends and family, all carefully spelled out on colored construction paper trimmed with hearts and a well practiced "I love you" on each and every one.

The boys are out back, all three with a neighbor kid thrown in for good measure on a chilly fall day, tossing around a few footballs they found in the garage. Transition, transition. Jonah's first year of "real" school. Ben in middle school and Peter seeming every day more like a kid and less like my chubby baby.

Transition, no matter how lovely to behold, comes with it a certain ache. Change and time and endless adaptation to the new - it can rub your heart right raw. Mamas start out in that first confusing moment of pain and exhilaration and it seems like a paradox. How can something so difficult and scary and painful be the absolute apex of joy? We regard for the first time a mottled and squished squawking speck of humanity and feel it - fierce love, anguish, pride, fear. And we think that, by and by, it will change. Get easier somehow. Slow down to a steady and predictable daily pace. But it never really does. All of mothering is a mirror of those first moments. Pain side by side with joy. Fear and grief nestled gently with hope and faith. Desperate to succeed, fear of falling. Blinding, astounding, terrifying love.

We're human so we can get bogged down grasping at moments, trying to tug them close and keep them from slipping out of our hands. But the only way to hold them, even for a little while, is to live in them with gratitude. Knowing this day comes just once and loving it for what it is. My nursing relationship with this last little has an expiration date. Those boys out back won't always come in the kitchen door all loud and muddy every Saturday evening. The people my girls love will continue to grow and expand to include people we don't even know yet. This is only the beginning.

Some days are harder and we rush right through, ready to just be done with whatever it is we are facing. Not all moments feel like treasure. Not every day is one for the memory books. Not every day presents itself as once-in-a-lifetime. Life is hard and I would never stand here and say "just count your blessings!" because goodness, I know difficulties. I know that platitudes such as those don't mean much to a friend who's baby is in the NICU while she waits on the floor below, waiting for answers and aching to hold him. They fall flat to a Mama who goes home empty handed from the hospital with nothing but grief.

The thing is, the hard stuff in life doesn't make the good stuff less of a blessing. If anything, it showcases the magnitude of the graces that we are given. Her eyes on my face. My big girls humming echoing through the house. His 3 year old cheeks brilliantly red on a Fall afternoon. We can't keep the moments but we can acknowledge the miracles when we see them and live fully and presently in the time we have.

There's an ache to the change. But I can hold the ache together with joy and look across the years seeing just how He led us from day one. Through each change, over each mountain, guiding us gently home.


{It's Mindful Mothering Mondays, a day to take a deep breath and write out your mothering journey, whatever form it takes. A day to link up for encouragement from others who are in this same phase of life. A day of writing out the trials and triumphs and what you're learning right where you are, right now.

You might post recent struggles or thoughts. Maybe just a picture or a quote. Or maybe you'll just come here and read the links that others post. Whatever form your participation takes, this is a day for you.
We are all in this, together. Together, we can encourage and build one another up, be honest with our shortcomings and strengthened by community to keep fighting the good fight.

I chose Mondays because what Mama doesn't need a little encouragement on a Monday?

I hope you'll meet with me! Here's what to do ~

Link up your post below in the comments. Remember to put the link to the exact post you want to link, and not just your blog url. Include in your post a link back here so others who want to join in can find us! And visit some other Mamas who have linked up.

Post the community graphic within your post, so people who are reading your Mindful Mothering post can come back here and find the rest of us! You can use the hashtag #MindfulMotheringMondays on Twitter and Instagram to connect further.

Invite the writers of your favorite blogs to join in!

Share this meme with others on facebook and twitter. This community is for all moms, and the more that participate, the more we will be able to enjoy!!}

Grab the graphic here:

If you enjoyed this post, please consider leaving a comment or subscribing to future posts.  Thank you.

Home Apprenticeship #MindfulMotheringMondays

{I was thinking it was nearly time to bring out this archived post and have another look, and Labor Day seems just the day to do that. Lots of things I need to remember here. Enjoy!}

"I could never homeschool.  That's awesome that you do, though."

We're in the waiting room at ballet, watching our pint-sized ballerinas through the window.  I reluctantly lift my eyes from Dinah's porte de bras to meet her gaze.

"Oh I'm sure you could.  It's not much different than regular parenting, really."

She's not readily convinced, shakes her head and gestures.

"No, no, no.  With the kid's home all day?  I could never get anything done."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's Sunday and I'm washing up the last of the dishes.  Cake baking in the oven, bread dough tucked snugly into pans, vegetables and macaroni and cheese waiting in the fridge for their turn to be cooked for our weekly family meal.

Outside, the hum of the mower and I see my 8 year old walk past the window, throwing the bulk of his thin 8 year old frame against the weight of it.  Behind him walks his Dad, my husband, just a few steps.  Close enough to step in to correct and instruct, far enough to let his son learn on his own.

My toddler comes running in from outside and I set him up with a dishcloth to dry the pots and pans for me. He's quiet and content on his little stool, occasionally looking up and asking me if he's doing a good job.  I apply praise liberally and his face is all light and smiles.

It gets me thinking of that conversation last week at the studio.  How does one get anything done with five kids in the home all day every day?  To be sure, some things can be quite a mess.  But the basics?  They get done.  Laundry, groceries, meals, schooling, bathing...it all happens just fine.  Maybe a bit more hectic than if they weren't here, but I wonder if that's a bad thing.

In the past 200 or so years, it seems we've forgotten how to "get anything done" with children around.  Certainly some people still have it figured out.  Drive out in Amish country and you'll see a Father plowing his field - with 2 or 3 youngsters tagging along and helping.  Regular families used to be able to do that, too - incorporate their children into the daily running of their homes and lives.  Children learned by watching and working alongside their parents - important skills.  Parents didn't view their children's presence as being burdensome or exasperating, but rather another aspect of the job - training the next generation to work.

These days, it's easier to turn on a video for the kids while you are making dinner, or do all the chores yourself because it's more efficient and orderly that way.  But perhaps this is robbing our children of something very important?

It's not always a picturesque endeavor. They're real people, after all, and who get's excited about unloading a dishwasher? But the result is always worth the struggle it may take to get there.

Homeschooled or schooled, it doesn't matter.  Incorporating children into real life begins with the home life and how we allow them to apprentice along side us, yes, even if it means a bit of a mess in the kitchen, or laundry not folded exactly right.  Perhaps his mowing isn't in perfect straight lines, but it certainly never will be if he isn't given the opportunity to try.  We also need to get away from viewing "work" as a dirty word and something to save our children from.  Teach little ones to love work by allowing them to help when they are little and still want to - and raise up a crop of hardworking adults who get the job done.

It's a lesson I'm still learning when I'd rather just buzz through these 3 loads a day and not be bothered teaching the 5 year old how to fold Daddy's shirts.  Or when I really just want to get these loaves in the oven and not let him help me mix up the dough.  But I know it's all a part of the job - a very important part.  Perhaps the most important part.

Lazy people want much but get little, but those who work hard 

will prosper (Proverbs 13:4 NLT).

How are you apprenticing your kids?


{It's Mindful Mothering Mondays, a day to take a deep breath and write out your mothering journey, whatever form it takes. A day to link up for encouragement from others who are in this same phase of life. A day of writing out the trials and triumphs and what you're learning right where you are, right now.

You might post recent struggles or thoughts. Maybe just a picture or a quote. Or maybe you'll just come here and read the links that others post. Whatever form your participation takes, this is a day for you.
We are all in this, together. Together, we can encourage and build one another up, be honest with our shortcomings and strengthened by community to keep fighting the good fight.

I chose Mondays because what Mama doesn't need a little encouragement on a Monday?

I hope you'll meet with me! Here's what to do ~

Link up your post below in the comments. Remember to put the link to the exact post you want to link, and not just your blog url. Include in your post a link back here so others who want to join in can find us! And visit some other Mamas who have linked up.

Post the community graphic within your post, so people who are reading your Mindful Mothering post can come back here and find the rest of us! You can use the hashtag #MindfulMotheringMondays on Twitter and Instagram to connect further.

Invite the writers of your favorite blogs to join in!

Share this meme with others on facebook and twitter. This community is for all moms, and the more that participate, the more we will be able to enjoy!!}

Grab the graphic here:

If you enjoyed this post, please consider leaving a comment or subscribing to future posts.  Thank you.

Modifying Me-Time #MindfulMotheringMondays

With school fast approaching, I'm making my lists of curriculum and sketching out our days. I consider all sorts of formats, all kinds of schedules, every possible angle on how this will work out. This year I'm homeschooling 4 children, with two littles to keep an eye on as well. It's a lot of work; it's practically a full time job.

While I'm dreaming and considering and comparing, there is one thing I want to be sure I don't write out of the picture altogether. Something that I know my home and family need. Something for me.

There's much said about "me" time. Some are anti, saying it's selfish. Others are pro - convinced that, without it, we'll serve ourselves sick, turning into mere shells of humanity. I've looked at both sides and, somewhat predictably, if you know me, fall somewhere in the middle. I know how it feels to just keep giving and giving and end up spent. But I know that pushing my needs to the forefront of my life doesn't sit well with being at the center of my family. There's a balance. I just need to find it.

I believe firmly that each Mother has her own unique set of talents and strengths that were not meant to left behind when they welcomed that first baby. These things about ourselves that make us tick, inspire us, refresh us - they are gifts. Things that are meant to be taken with us, to help shape what it is we do every day.

When you're homeschooling a crew of kids and keeping the baby from climbing up on the table every time your back is turned, the things you do to preserve your sanity and keep hold of yourself have to be modified. As much as I'd like to have a half hour of full on peace in my home each day, the reality of that amid the lifestyle we live is near impossible.

The only way I can continue to pursue my interests, to take a moment to breathe, to find a little bit of peace of grab hold of a verse of wisdom - is to do it right within the swirl of my every day. Using the gifts and talents I've been given, I can bless my family even while refreshing myself. So I knit during reading lessons. I practice yoga, often with the baby crawling under me and a kid or two working right along side. I sing their favorite songs and I write with someone on my lap and everyone else eating breakfast around the table. I fit me in without pushing them out.

The payoff? Not only do I keep one toe in the pool of who I am separate from the people I love and serve, but these kids get a front row seat to what it is that makes me tick. What's more, they realize that their gifts are not something they have to give up in order to give to others - but rather something about them that complements the lives they have been called to.

Me-time doesn't have to be a selfish pursuit of separation, an exercise in narcissism. The things that refresh and revitalize us are often the same gifts that we can offer back in service, blessing those around us and rendering our lives back to worship. Gathering my people up around me, being the Me I was made to be? Points straight back to the glory of the one who shaped us all, intentionally unique and richly studded with gifts and abilities.

Each one should use whatever gift he has received to serve others, faithfully administering God's grace in its various forms.

1 Peter 4:10

{It's Mindful Mothering Mondays, a day to take a deep breath and write out your mothering journey, whatever form it takes. A day to link up for encouragement from others who are in this same phase of life. A day of writing out the trials and triumphs and what you're learning right where you are, right now.

You might post recent struggles or thoughts. Maybe just a picture or a quote. Or maybe you'll just come here and read the links that others post. Whatever form your participation takes, this is a day for you.
We are all in this, together. Together, we can encourage and build one another up, be honest with our shortcomings and strengthened by community to keep fighting the good fight.

I chose Mondays because what Mama doesn't need a little encouragement on a Monday?

I hope you'll meet with me! Here's what to do ~

Link up your post below in the comments. Remember to put the link to the exact post you want to link, and not just your blog url. Include in your post a link back here so others who want to join in can find us! And visit some other Mamas who have linked up.

Post the community graphic within your post, so people who are reading your Mindful Mothering post can come back here and find the rest of us! You can use the hashtag #MindfulMotheringMondays on Twitter and Instagram to connect further.

Invite the writers of your favorite blogs to join in!

Share this meme with others on facebook and twitter. This community is for all moms, and the more that participate, the more we will be able to enjoy!!}

Grab the graphic here:

If you enjoyed this post, please consider leaving a comment or subscribing to future posts.  Thank you.