Speeding Through Summer

I can’t fully comprehend how it is that I find myself nearing mid-July, when I have little recollection of the preceeding summer months.  To say that summer is speeding by would be a simple enough statement.  This July 4 was spent relaxing with extended family at Cherokee Lake in Tennessee.  It was very nice.  The weather was warm and sunny, with only a little rain on the last day, so I can’t complain about the weather, for a change   It’s always so great to have all the cousins together, playing and to listen to their conversations.  I find it absolute pleasure that they seem to just pick up the relationship in all it’s ease, even if it’s been months since they’ve seen or spoken to one another.  Wouldn’t it be nice if adults were so free in their meetings?  We always hold back, wary of the possible judgement or hidden agenda held by the other.  That’s what comes from experience with people, I suppose.

I’ve neglected my site here to lavish time and effort on the postcard trading hobby – it is very enjoyable, and affords me the chance to meet peoples from all over the globe, who have similar interests and agendas for our dealings.  It does take quite a bit of time of organizing, having to keep my online trade album updated with what I have in stock, keep up with addresses, preferences, and such, but it is fun.  I’m indulging myself with more time to spend with the hobby right now, because I know that when school begins, I will have to seriously cut back.

Speaking of school, I am elated that our school district has decided that middle and high schools should begin school an entire hour later than in previous years, but still release at the same time!  I can’t exaggerate the good things that means for our household.  This past school year being the first that we’ve had to deal with considering “out of home” school schedules in 9 years, was quite an adjustment for all of us.  Since I will not send my son, who never seems to be full of belly, out of the house on a meager, cold breakfast, I raised myself from the bed every morning (there were about a dozen exceptions – most exusable because of surgery), to cook his meal at 6am.  Now, you may consult any home educator about this – 6am is early!  Three to four mornings a week, I went back to bed after my son and husband left, which meant that I slept later than I would’ve if I had  not gotten up to cook and laid back down, which meant that home school for my daughter started and finished later than we’d like.  For my husband, this change of schooling type meant that he got a hot breakfast every morning, which he loved, but it also meant that he had to take our son to school and deal with traffic he could otherwise avoid if our son missed the bus.  Even though our son managed the earlier beginning and later ending to his day quite well, he will savor every minute of that extra hour he gets to sleep!

I am also researching Kentucky and its history, which has taken me away from regular hobbies and things.  Right now I’m particularly looking for quirky facts and quotes by Kentuckians.  It is particularly difficult to find quotes from KY women in history, so if you are interested and would like to help me out, it would be greatly appreciated!

Cleanin’ the Plate

I’ll bet you think this post is about food – but it isn’t!  This post is about cleanin’ another kind of plate all together…the proverbial plate that we carry around laden with all our duties and responsibilities (real or imaginary).  It is good for our plates to be full.  Plates that are full, but not overflowing, keep us active, involved in the lives of others and keep us working and growing.  However, there comes a time when the plate must be cleaned, and it’s hard to clean a plate that is full – we usually do that after we eat from it, and then it is ready to be filled once again.  The plate of responsibility is no different from the dinner plate in that it requires a good regular cleaning – not quite so often, but regularly nonetheless. 

I have not cleaned my plate of weighty to-do’s in a very, very long time, and it has begun to reek!  I am losing my ability to enjoy life because of the stink generated by all the stuff on the plate; so I’ve made a promise to myself to begin again with a new plate, and  allow God to guide the filling spatula this time, rather than self- wrought guilt, guilt so graciously piled on by well-meaning lunch ladies, perceived obligation or simply band-wagon decisions that add a spoonful here and a spoonful there until I simply cannot digest it all.  When the school year begins, I shall have nothing on my plate but homeschooling, which is God’s entree for me, and I will stop there, taking dessert only if I have room and it is a heavenly portion offered by the Lord himself!

It feels very freeing to have made this decision, and although I’m having a difficult time finishing up the last few bites before the plate gets scoured, it will get finished and the plate will be clean for once!  There are just a few more tidbits to digest and I’ll be done!

I remember having to sit at the table as a child until I finished every last bite, and some things took a long, long time sittin’…like salmon…ugh!  and meatloaf (funny that I’ve found ONE recipe that I like, now), and green beans…I like those, too, now, by the way.   I don’t know why I never could just start stuffing it down, gagging, but getting it over with.  Everything tasted so much worse stone cold!  I should’ve just shoveled it in and spent the evening playing rather than staring at the plate, actually making it taste worse in the end.  But I didn’t.  I sat there.  And sat there.  And would finally have to yield to mom’s mandate – and eat it. 

I guess I didn’t learn a thing from those experiences that I transferred to the responsibility plate.  I’ve taken on more and more, and although looking at it certainly brought on the same sort of nauseous feeling, I just stared at it and sat there, unwilling to do what it takes to clean the plate.  I may not be gagging, but I’ve certainly had the feeling that I need air!  I guess I didn’t want to disappoint people; I didn’t want to accept that I couldn’t do as much as some (without losing my mind or being miserable).  I rationalized that others were doing even more.  Ridiculous, I know.  That is why I have decided to embrace my limits, and keep to them.

Well I guess this post ended up discussing food just a bit…

If your plate is dirty, maybe it’s time to clean it

Gettin’ on the Soapbox

For a quick update on the last post, the stamp illustrating my opinion of what makes Kentucky beautiful is coming along.  My son did know someone who is an excellent artist, but I wavered and then changed my mind about getting help.  I determined to do it myself for two reasons, the first one being purely sensible:  my son pointed out that I couldn’t very well ask this person to design a stamp for free.  I hadn’t thought about that – my only thought had been getting help   Then after I had agreed to compensate the artist and tried to convey to my son what I wanted, I struggled to believe that I had a great chance of being 100% happy with the work, and could end up paying and still not having a stamp image, not to mention that I’d be pushed for time with the days spent depending on someone else (and I am not good at that).  So I commited myself once again to the task and am on the verge of having on paper what I had in mind.  Most importantly, the work will be entirely mine, which was the other reason I changed my mind about getting an artist – I really want it to be mine, even if the artwork may not be noteworthy.

I have lots of little errands to do today which will do much to clear my to-do list of  nagging interruptions in regular duties.  Though I typically put such things off till the last minute, it is always completing them that makes me feel most satisfied with the day’s accomplishments.  So why don’t I just do them as soon as they go on the list?  Pshaw, if I knew that, I could council others on their procrastination!

I got an email this morning directing me to a news article about a North Carolina judge forcing a homeschooling mother to enroll her children in public school this fall.  Without recapping the story or expounding on the apalling comments he made (because you can google it yourself if you’re interested) I must say that I am utterly disappointed in the increasing incidence of loss of rights in this so-called free country.

Now before you go making assumptions about my views on every aspect of freedom, let me say that this is just one more area, like gun-control and socialistic tax reform that some people’s views on are seriously off – and it ain’t mine!  This is America - a country that was founded on rebuking unreasonable control by government, and we are inching closer and closer to becoming exactly what our founding fathers were rebelling against!  It will be a dark, dark day in the Land of the Free when law-abiding citizens can’t buy guns, while the criminals would continue to get them the same way they always have, when wealth earned by hard-working, motivated tax-payers is “spread” to those who refuse to get off their butts and realize that the world doesn’t owe them jack, or when families who spend their own money on their own curriculum, often sacrifice a second income so one parent can teach, strive to offer their children an educational advantage in a competitive world, and commit themselves to being solely responsible for their children’s morals are told that they cannot choose this path.

Parents can beat, molest, neglect, and/or mentally and emotionally abuse their children and the government carefully tiptoes around their “rights”, often to the detriment of the child; but parents who choose to homeschool, which is in no way easier than plopping them in a government school where books, food and transportation are all free and if the kid doesn’t fare well in life, responsibility can be blamed on someone else to boot, are being targeted.

What is this country coming to?

I’m gettin’ down from the box now   I feel better!

Misty-eyed and sentimental

Hmmm.  My kiddos are growing up.  It doesn’t matter how many times over the years that I have had this revelation – each time is like a new feeling.  I was doing fine. 

Yesterday I finally just went to the school and asked if I could register my son on the spot.  All this frustration with trying to figure out which day is the “right” day to register…there’s New Student Registration Day and Freshman Registration Day, and then there’s an evening “Freshman Orientation” and also a three-half-day Freshman Bridge Program.  <sigh>  Is it just me, or do we just really make things more complicated than necessary?  Why?  Good grief!  Anyway, my son spurred me on, because of his own frustration with questions about classes, and I guess he’s less patient than I am.  And patience is supposed to be a virtue!  Maybe I take it to far by not pushing where I should sometimes. 

So we are headed out to run some other errands, and I voice my confusion/frustration with all this once again, and he just says, “Mom, just take all my papers and let’s go to the school right now.  This is ridiculous.  We’ll just get me registered today.  It’s not like they’re gonna say ‘no’!”  And we did.  What a relief.  And even though the course catalog says that 2 years of foreign language are required for the diploma he wants to get, we found out that it’s actually 4…which is kinda good to know, since there are only 4 opportunities to take a year!  < cheshire grin, here>….ow, I bit my lip!

The day was productive and I felt fine. 

He went to his first “high school” age party last night, too, (the kind you don’t dread…with most of the kids from youth group, several parents and the youth pastor attending…smores and hot dogs over a yard fire, cake and ice cream and socializing) and even though the thing was to last until 2am, we picked him up a bit before midnight and we parents and he the teen were happy with that.  I was still fine. 

We drove back on the quiet streets after picking him up, listening to his account of things, and I was still fine, but sorta remembering the parties with balloons and giggles.  Then when he hugged me goodnight, he let his hand slide down my arm as he looked me in the eye and thanked me for letting him go and staying up late to let him stay late, and I really was still ok. 

I lay down next to my husband and we talked for several minutes, yawning and breathing deeply, about nothing sentimental at all, and when all was quiet, I suddenly broke into tears.  My little boy is gone.  I love the youth he is and the man he’s becoming, but I really just feel like it happened so fast.  It just suddenly occurred to me that when school starts in about 10 days, he is not going to be here all day.  Most moms adjusted to this when their kids were 5 or 6, but I have been blessed enough to have every day with my kids and watch every change and every accomplishment and failure firsthand.  I can’t imagine one of them not being here-all day- every day, for the better part of a year!  This is going to take much more adjusting than I first calculated.  I’m afraid.  I’m afraid I’ll miss out on so much.  I’m afraid he’ll stop talking to me about everything.  I’m afraid his friends will become more a part of his life than his family.  I have never felt so much grief where my kids are concerned. 

My husband saying that all this may be hard, but that I should rejoice, because thier independance, confidence and security is all the beautiful fruit of my parental labors.  I know he’s right, and I truly am happy that they are all those things.  I wouldn’t want them to be fearful, insecure and scared of everything.  I wouldn’t want them to depend on me for everything, because I won’t always be here.  And there is nothing more satisfying than knowing that your child knows God and looks there for backup, instead of to you, as it should be.  But it is hard.  It is very, very hard.

He is volunteering today, and isn’t here.  He woke me up at 8:15, and had already fed the dog and taken her out, eaten breakfast, taken a shower, and was in the process of packing a lunch for himself.  He didn’t want to wake me until the last minute, since he knew I’d been up late because of the party he went to.  Some young woman is going to be very blessed some day.

K and I went letterboxing locally, and it was a lot of fun.  I know that we are going to enjoy some great mother-daughter bonding this year.  But I wonder now that we’ve returned, if I somehow wanted to be gone today because I know that it’s going to be like this a lot soon, and I just wanted to avoid thinking about it…..  She cried before we left for just a minute, saying she was tired.  I told her that we could stay home, but she didn’t want that.  I wonder if it’s just as hard for her.

We had a good day, stopping twice for cold drinks (from a machine where cans are still only .40, believe it or not), and having fun deciphering clues and enjoying the stamps and locations.  We looked for 4 boxes, and only 2 were there.  One was just plain missing, and the other one was a lid-less, empty container.  I do hate that for the planters. (We had fun regardless.)

In the words Pacha’s wife (the Emperor’s New Groove) and in the tradition of women in my family who work themselves to death to deal with stress – “I gotta go wash something!”

Good Beginnings

I have learned about myself that I am really good at starting things.  I don’t have much bragging to do about my record for finishing things, though.  I’m one of those people who likes to get something up and running, and then I like to leave it and start something else.  I suppose that’s good for something, but knowing that about myself makes me anxious about starting things, because even though I hate to see “unfinished” things, I don’t always want to be the finisher.  This fact bothered me for years, and lowered my confidence in myself, until I finally accepted that God made me this way.   It’s certainly not that I can’t or won’t finish things, just that I enjoy the start-up phase much, much more.  I have learned to be careful what I start, though, which has improved my record for finishing things.  I only start things that I am sure I’ll want to see through, which means that it takes me a while to make a decision, giving those who know me well something to tease me about.  “Have you analyzed every aspect of this – are you sure?” my honey will say with a smile.  Even though I may be sure, and tell him so with a great show of confidence, it still makes me nervous.  The beginning of the school year makes me nervous, the beginning of the Girl Scout year, now that I’ve taken that up, and sometimes even the beginning of the day or week – Can you pull this off?  I question myself.  My honey pointed out last night that though he has seen me quit many things that I start for myself, he has never seen me quit something I start for someone else.  An interesting observation.  Comforting, too.  And after having given it some thought, it turns out that he is right.  I suppose that’s a good thing.  For all my rambling, I don’t think I have a point.  Just reflecting.

Since my brain sometimes switches gears quickly, you’ll have to learn to keep up with it. 

My honey and I have 2 beautiful, wonderful children, but it didn’t take much discussion to come to the unanimous decision that we wouldn’t plan any more (we’ve always been a bit apprehensive about what God may have planned – and yes, I know that reveals a lack of faith in that area, but we all have our shortcomings).  Pregnancy, although emotionally and spiritually a wonderful experience for me, was never ideal.  Problems began very early with pregnancy #1 and resulted in bed rest from the middle of the second trimester to the end, with 2 short “trial” reliefs from that which never lasted more than a week, and a lot of weight gain and general stress.  Pregnancy #2 ended at 16 weeks, taking part of my heart with it.  Pregnancy #3, although healthy, was an exercise in utter fear of additional loss for us, and we agreed that adding children to this family would be done through adoption from then on, if at all.  We’ve considered it a couple of different times over the years, but would end up dropping the subject when we couldn’t come into a place of complete committment to it.  Our kids are 9 and 13, and the subject is on the table again.  We do want more children, and we want to bless our children with more siblings; we just want to be sure.  I do think the whole thing may be more serious this time, though, because we have discussed it with the kids this time.  We’re not sure, yet, of course, but it has been an experience just talking about it together, and thinking together on what all this would entail as far as changing our lives.  A lot. 

Some friends who are more mature than us, not only in age, but in the ways that are important, once told us that 3rd children were “very good for couples”.  Since we only have two, we still aren’t sure what they meant.  Our pastor also talked once about some families he knew who had adopted, and referred to their experience as something that “messed up their little worlds in a really, really good way”.  I do think I know what he meant. 

I guess I’m not only feeling reflecive, but philosophical, as well   It’s good to stop and see where you are sometimes.  Stop and look at yourself.  It’s good for you.

A New Year of Home School

I’ve been a bit scarce lately, as far as the computer is concerned – only checking and returning emails, and leaving any pure internet pleasure behind, because we started school last Monday.  When I logged on today, I read some others’ home school thoughts, and it inspired me to share our story. 

My honey and I are from the place that time forgot (not that it’s that way now, but still slow-moving, which is a good thing when you’ve lived in fast-moving places, and a part of us would love to seek shelter from the wind by moving back, but that’s another story).  No one home schooled.  We had never heard of such a thing.  We moved to the big city of Toledo, OH for a couple of years, and in the time we were there, I learned that some people take their child’s education into their own hands.  Huh.  That’s different.  Out of pure curiosity, spurred on by a bit of fear, since my firstborn was 4 and I had no desire to send my baby into the wilds of big-city schools, I checked out a book from the library titled “The Christian Homeschool” by Gregg Harris.  I hadn’t planned to read the whole thing, just sort of see what this idea was all about, but I did read the whole thing, and the seed was planted deep.  I began talking about it as something I would like to know more about, and maybe even do.  My husband was not at all interested.  He was of the “throw them out and let them learn to swim” philosophy (not with swimming, LOL, but with school).  But my son was only 4, so there was time for me to learn more, and time for God to work on my honey, so I sought out more information, mostly from the library, and asking questions, as we did not have internet at the time.

We ended up moving from the cold, northern big city, back to the bluegrass, but still far from “home” and still in what we called a big city, although it didn’t seem quite so big after where we’d been.  Although I had enough information and confidence to run with the home school thing when my son became the age at which the government feels they should be corralled into the classroom, my husband was still vehemently opposed, believing that we would be “sheltering” him from reality, and that there was no way I could do it, because I was not a teacher!  I prayed for God to change his heart and open doors for me, and I enrolled him in Kindergarten with a heavy heart and didn’t do very well hiding my broken heart as he left me each day to spend most of his day with strangers.  Little sister was confused and clung to him from the moment he got home until bedtime.  We all survived, visiting the classroom often and going to all the class parties and field trips.  He quickly became the star pupil to the good teacher, and had her half the day the next year, when first grade and second grade spent half the day together.  God did open doors – of revelation to my husband – that maybe this could work, and my prayers were answered when he agreed just before Christmas break to let me “try it for a year”.  He was quite surprised and a bit irritated/amused, when I pulled our son out of school at the break and began immediately after the holidays.  (He says he meant the “next” year.)  So was the teacher, who said, “Oh, not in the middle of the year….he’s my example for the rest of the students!”  Although disappointed, she understood what I was trying to do, and offered herself as a source of whatever help she could be, as did the principal of the school.  We visited the class often and still went to all the parties, in order to ease my son into a different type of schooling.  God was definately in control of this!  I was scared and excited and full of ideas and expectations, and it went very well.  I went through several curriculums before I found a perfect fit, and I still make adjustments to it as I find components that I like to add or replace parts of our core.  We have tried Christian Liberty Press, Bob Jones, Alpha Omega, all which just seemed to feel like moving a classroom style learning into your home, which is not at all what I was looking for.  We finally discovered Sonlight, and a love affair was sparked.  We love the philosophy, approach to teaching/learning, the style of organizing (like a more structured unit-study) and the piles and piles of books.  I quickly realized that I was born a home schooler!  I had taught my son, by way of simply spending time playing and showing him things as we did life, more before he entered Kindergarten than he learned while there! 

Needless to say, my husband came around full circle.  He was duly impresssed by the progress we made in every area, and supports the whole idea completely, now!

My daughter had never seen the inside of a classroom until recently, when a friend who is a public middle school teacher, asked if she’d like to go help her get her classroom ready (cleaning desks, emptying files, bulletin board, etc.).  She was interested, and enjoyed the experience.

We use a more structured approach than some, but it is what works for us.  This year, we get up at 7:30 (I do make exceptions when we need more rest) eat breakfast, feed the pets, get dressed, and get started.  On days that I run, I leave them to the morning routine, and they responsibly carry on.  I insist that they do their least favorite (anything that includes sitting at a table and writing) first, and save their favorite subjects/activities for last, when concentration, motivation and energy are waning.  This (delight-directed study) I learned from Gregg Harris, in that first book I read so long ago.

This year, my 8th grader is using Sonlight for Bible Study, History, Reading, and Literature.  He is also using Keys to Geometry and Keys to Algebra, Sequential Spelling, Apologia Physical Science, and a pick-and-choose (I choose) approach with writing from leftover projects in Wordsmith Apprentice and Writing Strands until I get The Complete Writing Program, which I’m ordering this week.

My 4th grader is using Sonlight for Bible Study, History, Reading, Read-Alouds, Grammar Ace (which uses the Schoolhouse Rock videos!) and some Science.  We are also using The Weather Book by Michael Oard, Apologia’s Exploring Creation with Zoology 2:  Swimming Creatures of the Fifth Day, Sequential Spelling, Hooked On Math, Serl’s Primary Laguage Lessons and will also use The Complete Writing Program when it arrives.

Like most home school families, we are never really “done” with school, or are “off”, even though we do use the terms in reference to the book work.  We teach our kids constantly, never ceasing, simply by being parents, and lovers of learning ourselves.

Both kids are extremely social, playing rec department sports, and taking private lessons in something when an interest arises, and confidently taking part in any social gathering they encounter, whether they know someone involved-or not!  Both of them have always been comfortable walking up to new kids and jumping in with a “Wanna play?” and introducing themselves.  Now, they certainly did not get this from me, and since I am very quiet in unfamiliar circles, and rarely introduce myself, their social skills are proof that home school does not hinder a child’s social abilities!  I believe that is simply an individual trait that is God-given.  I’m not sure if it came from the Gregg Harris book or not, but I remember a quote that I read once, that said something like “Socialization is not sticking a child in a group of peers at their same ignorance level.”  How true!  We become socialized by interacting and learning from all age groups!

I am truly blessed to live in a country where freedom is a common expectation, and individuality is embraced.

Green Beans and Pride

Well I headed off to the farmer’s market this morning for some more of that nostalgia, and to try something new.  With only one large mess of beans in the freezer, I cannot face winter.  I have never bought any green beans that were not White Half Runners, because that’s what my honey’s Maw always bought   They are wonderful cooked country style with new potatoes, a bit of ham and some chicken boillon, but my aunt inspired me to try something new.  This aunt is one of those people who can whip up a masterpiece with about any handful of ingredients, probably blindfolded, and has been dubbed by my sia (sister) and I as “The cook of cooks in the family” (we all do pretty well- but she stands a notch above for her creativy and ability without a recipe).  She admits to having stolen this particular idea from a restaurant, but it is very consistent with her style and flair.  So you get some Tenderettes (certain type of green bean) and just pinch off the points, wash and gather in a bunch of 6-8 in your hand.  Take a strip of bacon and wrap the bunch, spiral, from one end of the bunch to the other, stretching the bacon snuggly.  Then you place them in a shallow dish and microwave until the bacon is done, and slightly crispy- the beans will be perfect by then.  She says you may have to pour off some drippings half-way through – or if you have a micro-dish that allows for drainage, you’re good to go.  And you thought green bean casserole was the latest thing to do with green beans (which I don’t like, by the way).  I haven’t tried it yet, but I put some pre-wrapped bunches in the freezer for faster use later!  Mmmm! 

I also got some Blue Lake green beans, which she finds more tender and flavorful than the WHR – and just packed them up traditionally.

Just in case you were waiting for some sort of lesson on pride through green beans, I’ll pop that bubble right now   The pride comes in about what I did before the farmer’s market, which has me feeling very good today.  I woke to the sound of the treadmill about 6:40am, because my honey was working out in the garage, which is below our bedroom.  I had asked him to wake me early, since he is always up and I don’t usually wake early without prompting (he says a cannon, but this is my blog).  Anyway, at first I was a little irritated that he didn’t wake me like I asked.  He does this a lot.  I’m not sure if he is trying to pamper me, or if it is really just that much of a pain to wake me, but I got over it quickly when I credited him for probably realizing that the noise of the treadmill would do the job effectively.  I’m nice like that.  I got dressed in my best clearance-rack-mismatched, sweat-wicking, built-in bra running top and shorts, cushy, arch-supportive socks and running shoes, and pulled back my hair.  At first glance in the mirror I noted that I looked serious about this, and told myself, ”You are a runner.  You can do this.  It matters not that you didn’t get all your workouts in last week.” (no – not out loud!), trying desperately not to make eye contact for fear that the doubt in my soul would be evident in my eyes.

I waved to my honey on the treadmill and began the 5 minute warm-up walk.  I had to run 1.5 miles today, and I used all the mental tricks I knew to wash the doubt away in the half mile walk.  I started to run.  The first half mile was good, and pretty easy.  The second half mile was just underway when my honey ran up to join me (his cool down – don’t laugh!).  I was  pleased because I was afraid I may need the encouragement, and knew that I wanted to impress him, which would help me push myself, and because I hadn’t asked him to do this.  As the third half mile began, he smiled at me and said, “Wow, honey.  You getting up and running at 7am – I never, and I mean never dreamed that you would do that.  You are doing great honey – I’m impressed.”  I smiled and ran on.  Not long after this, my stomach began to tighten uncomfortably, and I realized that I hadn’t eaten a thing.  Not a huge deal, really, for a 1.5 mile run, but it was more evidence that I was nervous about this.  I could almost see the marker when I was overwhelmed with something and stopped.  I stood for about 10 seconds in disbelief, not knowing why I stopped, and started again.  I finished, without dropping dead and I’m still on high about it at 3 in the afternoon.  I won’t discount myself for stopping, but I still don’t understand why I did.  I wasn’t feeling pain, and I was regulating my breathing, so I wasn’t out of breath.  I just stopped.  A close friend once told me that I sabatoge my own success because I fear it.  Well, I don’t know, but it comes to mind.  I did finish, though.  And I am very proud of myself for it.  I guess I learned something about myself, too.  And next time, I’ll be more aware of that mental aspect of the sport, and I’ll win that, too.

Thankfulness

Much more than what is seen in my post, I have felt down lately.  Sometimes I feel like life is just too hard.  The world seems like it is so far gone on the side of evil that it isn’t worth the effort.  I am certain that we have succeeded in making life so complicated that it is no fun at all.  I am overwhelmed with all that I have to do, and not sure that there is much point in doing any of it. 

As most of you have probably experienced, thankfulness always seems to follow a bout of complaining and whining.  God always shows us that we truly have no reason to have bratty attitudes when we have so much to be thankful for. 

I am quite sure He is smiling (like I smile at my kids when they are so frustrated with something or with themselves and I am a bit amused with their response to it) when He opens a window of revelation to me showcasing a few (notice I didn’t say all- that would take a while) of the many things I have to be thankful for. 

I drove our elderly neighbor to a doctor’s appointment yesterday, and after he struggled with his aged body to get it out of the back seat, he opened the door for his wife, who was in the front seat, and asked if she needed a hand getting out of the car.  She was smiling as she slowly shuffled out and turned to him and said “No, I can get out, I just can’t hop out like Tracey can.  I used to be able to hop out, but not any more!”  He smiled back at her, and I felt like I was intruding on their privacy when I witnessed the look of pure love and complete understanding pass between their smiling faces.  They’ve been married for 55 years.  And they are the sweetest little couple I have ever seen.

I am so thankful for my wonderful husband.  I would not want to bear life without his loving support.  I say would not want to here rather than could not, which would certainly be more romantic, because I once said that I could not bear something that I then had to endure, and though I thought I would die, and certainly wanted to, I did not.  I am thankful that I didn’t.

I am thankful that I am physically healthy, and thankful that I have had the desire and motivation to enhance that health by becoming physically fit, rather than living with a level of health that is something much less than I am capable of.  I have never liked waste of any kind, but in retrospect, that has to be one of the worst kinds of wastefulness that I have participated in, and I hope I don’t ever do it again. 

I am thankful for the children that God has given me.  They are such a blessing.  God is always using them to grow me in so many ways, and he shows Himself to me through them in a million ways.  He shows me my flaws through them as well, so that I am humbled, either by letting me see how they are like me, or how they are not. 

I am thankful that my extended family is all still here with me, and pretty healthy.  I lost one grandparent when I was in the second grade, and although I still miss him and would love for my children to have known him - all the rest are still here- what a blessing! 

I am thankful for all the things that I have which make my life easier and more enjoyable (ironic, huh?) that I do not need and that many do without.  I often tell myself that I didn’t have all this stuff in the past, and I could live without it – but I ignore the fact that I am very sure I would complain.  Now that’s not saying that I can’t live with less, but as much as I don’t like to admit it, I have become accustomed to certain things that although unnecessary, have blessed my daily life, and I would be a liar if I said it would be easy to learn to live without some of these comforts.  It angers me to think I am spoiled in any way, but….

So I am thankful.

I have no reason to ever complain, but I am human, and I justify it easily when I feel like doing so.  But my God is merciful.  He smiles at me and opens the window, so that I can look out and see how good I have it. 

Mmmmmmm.

Everyone is still asleep in this house – even the dog.  It is rare that I get silence and stillness.  It is really quite wonderful.  It comes to mind that a dear friend once said that “one hour of silence in a clean house” would be a great gift!  Well the house isn’t clean, but I don’t think I could possibly enjoy this more if it were.  I’ve got coffee, too, so the aroma, warmth and taste of that has added much to the moment.

I’m sure it won’t be long before the house awakens, and I’ll be glad when it does, but until then, I shall savor.

For some reason, I woke up mindful of how big my children are getting.  Thirteen and nine.  When did this happen?  Sure, I have countless memories of them at all the ages up until now, but, it doesn’t seem as if they fill up that many years.  I look at my son, my firstborn, and I see a handsome young man in front of me and have flashes of an adorable toddler when he giggles and his voice is less deep and his eyes shine.  He is so smart and sometimes so thoughtful that I fear for his future inevitable heartbreaks.  He will certainly be a good husband and father some day.  He has always had a way with little ones.  I can’t remember how many times that he has turned a child’s tears into laughter with his antics and approachable personality.  Not just little sister and cousins, either – I’m talking about strangers’ children – at parks, grocery stores – you name it.  I’ve even had mothers thank me, or him, for turning a toddler’s mood!

My daughter is just blossoming, too, into her own person.  She is much more like my husband than like me, but there are some things, too, that are all her own.  She is such an individual.  She has complete confidence in herself, and it is evident daily in her fashion sense.  Since she could dress herself she has chosen unique combinations and unconventional outfilts to adorn herself with, and I have photo evidence of artistic hairstyles she invented as she learned to fix her own hair!  She draws “fashions” all the time, has named her clothing line, and keeps all her work together in a portfolio that we made together (and had to get Mamaw to help finish because we moved beyond my sewing skills).  She is beautiful.

I think if I’m honest this whole blog thing, and many other new things I’m doing lately (the past year or so) has been to find myself again when I began realizing that even though it seemed like it would never happen when I was nursing and changing diapers, they are growing up.  They don’t need me in the same ways anymore, which actually leaves me with time on my mind (you notice I didn’t say hands – there’s plenty to do…) that I don’t know what to do with.  It’s not enough to keep the house clean, laundry and dishes done, yard neat, educate them, and all that comes with that.  There are still those times when they are doing their own thing and I am left.  Of course, like I said before, there’s plenty to do in the way of work – but I am more than that.  I just don’t know what more.  I married young and had children young, and I wouldn’t change a thing (really), but I am still young, and I wan’t to have a life left for me when they are gone.  I’ve heard about the empty nest thing – and yes, I don’t need anyone to point out that at 13 and 9 my kids are not on the verge of leaving the nest or anything near that.  But I have experienced a significant change in their mothering needs, and as it is the way God intended, I let go in areas that I should, when I should, like when you stop wiping their bottoms and washing their hair for them….the ways are just subtler as they get beyond that, and you have to pay attention and see them.  If they can do something for themselves, I believe I shouldn’t do it for them.  Now I’m not talking about getting silly – like not being courteous to one another.  We adults do things for one another all the time, but we recognize that it is out of kindness rather than necessity, and my children recognize that too, as they should, and they do those same things for me at times, as an equal in ability, out of kindness. (Like making a drink, or carrying something without being asked – simple kindnesses)

Anyway, I have been discovering again the parts of me that had to take a backseat to the mommy role when that’s the only role I had time for.  I never relinquished the wife role – I have a keeper and we have always made time for us – but that is another converstation   But you know what I mean….hobbies you set aside and such.  Like I mentioned earlier, I married young (18) and had children young (21), so there were plenty of things that I didn’t know about myself when I started focusing on my family, that I now have time to unearth.  I’ve tried so many new things over the last couple of years, and it has been fun.  I’ve also found that I can do things that as a child, I thought I couldn’t do – like draw, and run.  And it’s fun!!!!  I’ve always been a perfectionist, too, and I think that kept me from trying things, because I wouldn’t start it if I wasn’t pretty sure of success.  But I have outgrown that, and that’s fun, too.

Well, my train of thought has been interrupted by the sound of running water – so someone is up!  Enjoy the day.  I certainly will!  My honey is home today, and we have a glorious day of absolutely no concrete plans – a jewel in the calendar!