Breaking In the New House

It just hit me that that title doesn't really sound right. I'm meaning it as in 'breaking in a new pair of tennis shoes' not stealing the tennis shoes. We actually bought this house - we didn't break into it...but we are definitely 'breaking it in'. Now that I've made everything clear as mud, we can begin our little story.

We just moved a few weeks ago and are having a wonderful time trying to make our mark on this new home. Actually, its a pre-owned home, so we need to get our smell in it (this post is just going from bad to worse, isn't it?! - that's not the kind of smell I mean...), our personality, our TLC. These are 4 sure-fire ways that have helped us put our mark on this house and call it our own.

1. Make sure the upstairs toilet overflows the first day you own it. Be sure that all towels are still packed snugly in an unmarked box so that the only thing available to stop the excess water from dripping down the stairs are small random face cloths and paper towels. Make sure this happens while your Daddy is in a video-conference meeting downstairs in his office and your Mommy is not at home. Throw in one child who, when put in the middle of a stressful situation, panics and turns into a statue covering his face because he can't stand to see the mess...another child who has a guilty look on his face but keeps saying "it's not my fault!" and yet another who starts crying because it doesn't look pretty anymore. There is now no question about which bathroom to avoid in this house. Thankfully, we discovered this 'selling point' early on.

2. Play a family game of Hide-and-Seek. So much fun. It's especially fun when no one finds you and you keep staying in the same cramped quarters for 15 minutes or more. An added benefit of this game is having to hide with one of your children because she is too scared to hide by herself - so now, in this highly competitive and time-sensitive game, you not only have to find the perfect hiding spot for yourself, but one for your companion.

3. Make up lots of running games since you now have a huge space to run around in - INSIDE the house. I normally have the rule that all moms have: no running in the house. But how can you enforce it when the one who made up the game is the DAD?! Chuck tells the kids, "I'll go to some far corner of the house and then try to run like my tail is on fire to the other end of the house while you kids hide and try to jump out and tag me while on my way to previously decided upon destination." Oh goodie. I actually never saw this game first hand (thank God!) but heard from all involved how 'totally cool' it was. But I was privy to another little running game, also thought up by my ever creative and ingenious husband, called, "Let's run up and down the steps as fast as we can and count how many seconds it takes" (right after we have already put our daughter to bed, which just happens to be at the top of this staircase - minor point). Again, our competitive natures take hold and I just can't be left out of something so fun...so we each do it twice. We even timed it on the iPhone - so it was official. Chuck tried the 'skip alot of steps' method whereas, I chose the 'run real fast up each step so you don't trip up the steps' method. Seemed to work fine since I only came in a second after Chuck. But both boys tied my score. I'm still baffled by that...how can that be when their legs are shorter than mine?

4. Lastly, in an effort to give the house a nice aroma, put your favorite dish on the stove to simmer and let the smells waft through the house. Simmer is the key word here - medium...that would be too high. I found out. I put a pot of homemade spaghetti sauce on the stove (on medium) and left to take Gavin to piano class. An hour later I come home to the lovely aroma of: burnt spaghetti?! Gross!!! It stunck so bad. I'd say this house is almost broken in now...and what do you know, it only took 3 weeks?! Not bad.

So Big

Five years have passed too quickly. As joyous as birthdays are in this house, this one was particularly melancholy because Chloe is the baby. When the baby turns five, she's no longer a baby. It was another wonderful day at the Arboretum, as is our tradition. From year to year, the flowers are her gift from God, bringing beauty to the world around her. We never know if we will be enjoying this beauty in 50 degree weather or 80 degree weather - but its always a beautiful sight to behold and a tradition we hold dear.

Four was fun. But something I noticed about my baby was that she didn't want to be the baby - she wanted to be big like her brothers. She's always acted older than her age. I sadly realized that I expected her to act older and didn't cut her enough slack to just be four. Four year old girls like to whine, giggle and cry at the drop of a hat in any random order all through-out the day I've learned. I'm always learning with Chloe. Since she's my first and only girl, we learn as we go. Isn't that life?

Three....sweet, sweet, three. This has always been my favorite age with each of the kids. I love how they talk and their wonder at the world around them. Chloe has always been a girly-girl, but this was the year that she wanted to always be, act, dress and talk, just like me. What an honor. But how often I forget little eyes are watching, little ears are listening. She keeps me on my knees before God. I have learned more about grace and mercy through this precious little life. It is an honor to be her mommy.

We just watched the video of two year old Chloe tonight and laughed with the recollection of the sound of her voice and her little mannerisms. She was an obstinate two year old, always wanting to do the opposite of what we wanted. She was also very serious while taking in the world around her. She spoke little, watched alot, and adored her brothers. And her hair...it was a riot. She finally started getting hair at two. I've always loved her hair...or the lack of it.

Can you get happier or balder than this? I think not. Even though a one year old is a lot of work, they are equally as much joy. We would laugh so much over her new discoveries with this world and the words or sounds she came up with for each new, learned thing. She was fascinated with shoes at this age. She loved wearing my high heels and flip flops and she could hold her own in those little, fake, plastic high heels. We would have no way of knowing that this fascination would reach epidemic proportions by the time she turned five.

She was treated like a princess from the very start. Bennett could not wait for his little "Zozee" to arrive. He adored her and lavished affection on her. Gavin took great pride in being able to carry her to me or feed her. She changed our whole family for the better. Daddy was on a six week sabatical when she arrived and had the time to bond with her at home unlike the boys. We didn't miss a beat after she was born. She fit into our crazy lifestyle perfectly. We were out and about within days of her birth.


Thank you God, for the gift of Chloe.

A Novel Idea

You would think that because I homeschool I spend oodles amount of time with my children. And in theory, that is correct. But it is not the type of time that matters I have come to find out. You see, when I'm schooling, I'm more objective oriented, purpose driven, always looking to the next task that needs completing. I have to be expert at juggling my normal home responsibilities with school/education needs of my children. Multitasking is the name of the game.

In the early years, when the kids were all little, it wasn't such a big deal. We played much more than we worked. We still enjoyed each other's time. But as they've grown, my play time with them has shrunk. It is a constant battle I struggle with. I feel that I give them myself all day long...how can they expect me to play with them in the afternoon when I HAVE to get dinner ready, cleaning done, or any of a gajillion other things that I had hoped to do in the small 2 hour time slot I have available before dinnertime?

It hasn't helped with the whole moving thing. First there was a whole house to pack, then a whole house to unpack and decorate. Needless to say, my mind has been on many other things for a long time. I hadn't realized how much I had not been giving my time to the kids. And they only want me...not my agenda, not teacher, not the 5 minutes I give them as I rush back and forth between each of their needs. They wanted me, whole-heartedly just giving them attention and being with them.

So, yesterday I made an announcement at breakfast that each one of them would get a whole hour with Mommy today to do whatever they wanted to do with me. They would have my undivided attention. I would willingly go along with any plan (if you know me, you know that's hard for me). We drew names to find out the order. Gavin got first, Chloe second and Bennett last (each the way they had originally hoped it would be).

This is the fun part of it all, finding out what it was they were hoping to do with me. I can't tell you how much fun I had - it was a blast! It brought back memories of simpler times. Times when I didn't let a schedule dictate our day, when I cherished the time I had with them instead of thought of all things I still needed to get done in a day and wondered when I'd finally get "my time". How had I fallen so far from my 'first love'? It broke my heart that they were thrilled with a single hour of my time.

My time with Gavin began with my reading to him. We have been reading "Alice In Wonderland" (an extremely weird book, might I add...the author must have been on something...it makes NO sense!). But Gavin loves this book because of his love of all things fantasy, so its right up his alley. Then he read to me...a book called, "The Sign of the Beaver" which I thoroughly enjoy. After that, we built a model airplane together (something I didn't know I could do). He was so content. He got all his schoolwork done after that without complaint.

Next was Chloe. She LOVES any chance she gets at 'being in charge'. First we played 'make-up store' and then you're supposed to walk over to the 'hair-dresser store' after you get your make up done. After we were beautiful, we played mommy and daughter (obviously with the roles reversed). We got all her teddys and dolls all dressed up and brought them to 'church'. Me and the babies got to sit on her bed, while she stood and read to us from the Bible. I was allowed to ask questions as long as I raised my hand. It was precious.

Finally it was my time with Bennett. He's very physical, so I knew I'd be doing something that didn't involve sitting down. Of course he picked playing basketball. So we went outside in the 40 mile and hour winds on a 50 degree day with the threat of a thunderstorm looming perilously overhead. It was a challenge trying to throw the ball against the wind. But surprisingly, I actually won the game of "around the world". Bennett was a good sport about it. Then we came inside and built a pirate ship he had. Another 'hard to do' thing..but super fun.

Bennett even sent me an email thanking me for our special time. He even sang me a special 'i love mommy song' as well as lavished me with many accolades about being 'the best mom ever' the rest of the day. My heart was so full.

I was so refreshed by time with each of my favorite people. I vowed to do it each week. I will not let the busyness of life, the demands of life or the demands of each day get in the way of cultivating time with my children. What a wonderful lesson I learned yesterday.

Kick-backs and Extortion

Funny thing happened the other day...I saw a five dollar bill on Bennett's dresser. I nonchalantly asked him where he found it (because he previously informed me he was out of cash). He said, "Oh that. Gavin gave it to me." My first instincts were to dwell upon the brotherly love being bestowed between my two, fellow, male children. As I was reveling in their kind-heartedness towards one another, Gavin came into the room. I appropriately thanked him for being so sweet to his brother. How wrong I was.

All this "brotherly love" was actually a kick-back, come to find out. Gavin later explained that he wanted to play alone, but Bennett kept bugging him to play outside with him. Why Gavin would ever go outside and play sports instead of roll around the floor of his room in Gavinworld being some imaginary superhero is beyond me. So, he decided to pay him to leave him alone!!! Where in the world would my sweet, first born ever come up with such an idea?! I was so shocked with this revelation, I didn't know what to say. I was dumbfounded. So, I went and got Daddy.

It was Daddy who informed me that this type of thing has a name and that name is extortion and you are NOT allowed to use those types of "incentives" on your brother or sister - or anyone, ever, for that matter. Then we had to cover all our bases since we never traveled this road before and we never technically gave him the rules about 'paying off people to get what we want'. We decided to be very specific. The new family rule now states:

"There will never be money exchanged between siblings in this household for the following purposes: time alone, food, bribing in order to watch the movie or play the video game/board game that we want. You may also not pay your sibling to 'keep quiet' about an offense or accident that may or may not have happened. You may exchange 4 quarters for a dollar - but that is it!"

Now that the new rule is in place, Chuck further explained the whole extortion, bribery, kick-back thing and why it is wrong, bad, deceitful, harmful, ad nauseam.... I don't know why Gavin's first thought was not to just use his words to explain his desires to his sweet brother. Obviously, once you turn 10, words are scarce and saved up and used only when needed. It seemed easier to pay Bennett than talk to him. I hope this is a lesson we will never have to discuss again.

Just goes to show...whenever you think you have this parenting thing down...one of your kids throws a curve ball at you.

Problem Solving

I heard the kids playing upstairs when suddenly, Bennett starts crying about something that happened. I figured they're old enough to handle small disturbances by themselves, they don't need me stepping in to fix every little problem.

But then Bennett starts amping up the volume on his little, whiny cry and starts making it sound more pathetic than it was just 2 seconds ago when he was upstairs. Now he's in front of me with his face twisted in (feigned) agony. When he finds just the right whiny pitch that will make his injustice seem believable enough, he starts in:

"Mo...ooo...ooo..mmmm. We were upstairs playing Aunt, Cuz and Cousin and I got a pillow and was running at Gavin with it when he just picked up his leg and put it out at me and hit me here (while pointing to his reddened knee)."

AND???.....

Seriously...is this your entire complaint? And is that even a real game you're playing? Who plays Aunt, Cuz and Cousin? And HOW do you play such a game?

Once the obvious questions were out of the way, I attempted to get Gavin's version. Often times, it would appear that the two parties of a disagreement lived on two different planets. The other kid normally gives a version of the story of such contrast, that there was no way they could have been in the same room together, much less witnessed the same event. Lucky for me, Gavin's rendition supported Bennett's pathetic accusation.

I know parents aren't supposed to take sides...but I just couldn't see this one any other way. I was like, "Bennett...so, you're telling me that if Gavin was running at you with a pillow with the intention of hitting you somewhere on your body, you would just stand there and take it and not try to defend yourself?"

"Well...no...I guess, I would." Of course that sentence makes zero sense - but I knew what he meant.

Me again: "So, here's the deal...either I handle this situation for you and it will involve never touching, wrestling or rough housing with your brother again and you can both come downstairs and do some fun chores for me....OR...you guys can try to solve this on your own."

Didn't I make that sound appealing. I was rather pleased with myself.

Suddenly, reconciliations were made and they were back to the fun of "Aunt, Cuz and Cousin".

Another day. Another problem solved. If only all parenting issues could be this easy.

Rigged Science Experiment

This week was "W" week for Chloe in school. We always do an activity related to our letter of the week. For once, I was ahead of the game and actually had an activity already planned out. I was very proud of myself (you see, normally my brain is scrambling for an acceptable activity right before its time to do it). I was so excited to tell Chloe that her "W" activity this week was going to be about water and incorporate her very first science experiment. Only problem was, I didn't have part of the experiment...I still had to go to the store to get it.

Before I go any farther, let me explain the deep, scientific concepts involved here. First, you get a cup of water and fill it with a few drops of the food coloring of your choice. Then you insert a white carnation. Then you watch as the water flows through the flower and turns the carnation's petals the color of the water. It's almost like magic...especially when you're 4.

So...we're at the store and lo and behold, guess what type of flower they're completely out of?! Of course there were no white carnations to be found. So, me in all my wisdom decides that if this experiment can be done on a carnation, it can certainly be done on any old flower as long as its white. We find a perfect bunch of white mums and head home to conduct our scientific research.

We barely make it in from the garage when the kids are begging to start the experiment and are already searching for the food coloring. We don't even have time to unpack the grocery bags. We simply grab the mums, cut a few off and stick them in the jelly jar. Chloe has chosen a beautiful shade of purple while Bennett goes with blue water. I told them to be sure and check back often and find out what was going to happen to their flowers. I made the build up so huge, that they kept coming in from playing outside just to check on their flowers.

This experiment doesn't take long. Within a few hours, the petals should have turned colors. Notice the words: should have. These darned mums weren't turning any colors...they just sat there being all white and mum-like the whole rest of the day and into the night. Great! I cannot have Chloe's first science experiment end in failure...this will traumatize the rest of her scientific endeavors for years to come. I know the experiment works...I've done it before. Evidently, the flower is an intrical part of the whole procedure.

As luck would have it, I was up in the middle of the night getting some headache medicine when I noticed those flowers again. I knew I wouldn't be able to fall back asleep with white flowers still staring back at me. So I did the only other thing that made sense. I went and found the same food coloring the kids used, dropped plentiful amounts onto the mums, grabbed a paper towel and started rubbing the color into the petals. There...now we have a nice purple mum and a brilliant blue mum...with dots on them. You see, the food coloring didn't rub in all that great. But what the heck, it's 2 am and I'm not about making things look perfect or 'believeable' at this time of the morning. All I want is for my headache to go away and the flowers to change colors. Is that too much to ask?

The kids were beyond thrilled when they woke up and ran to check their flowers. In their eyes, the experiment worked. However, they were surprised that the color showed up in dots. Hmmm...me too. I quickly and discreetly disposed of all signs of the experiment before any questions could be asked.

Going Commando (again)

This would not be my first or even second entry about my sweet, boy-child choosing to 'go commando'...no this is my THIRD POST! I'm beginning to think we, as parents, have done some major oversight in the department of when and when not to wear underwear. We had another 'incident' today. Here's the story:

Chloe, Bennett and I are out in search of jeans without holes in the knees for Bennett. We find a store, we find a pair of jeans, we go into the changing stall to try them on. However, Bennett asks if Chloe and I could leave. I figure he's just into the 'trying to be modest' stage (how could I be so dense as to even think that Bennett has an ounce of modesty?!). Oh, what a fool I was.

So, he comes out of the stall and I do the typical mother thing and pull on the jeans, check the waist, see how much room to grow he has left. It was during that last evaluation that I discovered the lack of underwear. Now the whole making me leave the changing room thing is starting to make sense. He didn't want to get caught! This would have been his second time in two weeks of being caught for the same offense.

The other commando incident happened at the Dr.'s office of all places. He's laying down on the examining table for his well child appointment. The Dr. is making sure everything is where it's supposed to be. As he begins to unbutton Bennett's pants he starts laughing and says, to no one in particular, "Ah....I see we're going commando today." This is NOT the place to be making parental mistakes or showing any sort of incompetency. How could he slip out of the house on today of all days without underwear. Of course my first reaction is to feign disbelief and gasp, "BENNETT!!! - what were you thinking?!" Thank God the Dr. downplayed the whole thing!

But now, here we are in a store with my son trying on umpteen pairs of jeans WITHOUT underwear! How did I get to this point in life? Am I not direct enough in my expectations for my children? Must I ask them everyday if they remembered to put on underwear? Why would you even want to go without them? It's cold out, for goodness sakes.

We continue on in the store as if we're normal and leave without giving away the fact that one of us is underwearless. We get in the car and I start asking Bennett questions. "Honey, what makes you want to go without underwear?"

"Well...it's not that I don't want to wear underwear...it's just that...well...sometimes I don't have any left in my drawer."

"Honey, I know for a fact you have underwear in your drawer today."

"Well...then maybe it's because I like to save my underwear for the rest of the week so I don't run out."

"Oh really. So, you're into underwear conservation?"

"Ya."

"Oh, I see. So, if you were me, what kind of discipline would you think appropriate for someone being deceptive about not wearing his underwear?"

"Well...I would make him brush his teeth for 4 minutes."

"How in the world does that relate to not wearing underwear, Bennett?!"

"It would make me think about it while I'm brushing my teeth."

I have now gotten to the point in the conversation where I can no longer hide the huge smile spread across my face. This line of reasoning is getting crazier by the minute. He's dead serious too. Chloe decides to pipe in with, "Mommy, this makes me want to wear underwear every day too."

"What? Now you? Do you go commando too?"

"Yes. But from now on, I will put on a clean pair of panties every day."

Then Bennett feels it's necessary to add what he's learned from his 7 years here on earth to the conversation, "And Chloe, make sure you put your socks and underwear in the hamper everyday!"

Way to score points, Bennett. But it's a lost cause at this point. I have no reasoning ability left in order to think of an appropriate discipline that will curb this type of behavior in the future. I used to think that teaching a child to put underwear on was a one time deal...kinda like learning how to use a fork. You teach them once, they do it forever. Evidently, that's not the case in this house. We need further underwear education...let's call it 'continuing underwear education'.

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UPDATE: In case you're wondering...yes, I finally did come up with an appropriate (in my opinion) discipline to help curb the wayward ways of my non-underwear wearing son. I had him take all his underwear out of his drawer and then fold them all and place them neatly back in the drawer. My only hope here is that he sees that he actually does have underwear and to see what they feel and look like. Kind of like a 'getting acquainted' session. And, as the ever the sensitive parent, I felt obliged to let him know that if he felt that the amount of underwear he had in his drawer was in any way inadequate, to just let me know and I would dish out whatever cash it takes to get him some more.

Daddy/Daughter Dance

This was to be the night of all nights for Chloe. This was, in her mind, the culmination of all she's lived for these past 4 1/2 years. She had this piece of paper safely tucked under her pillow every night for the past week. She memorized every word on it. She read it to her stuffed animals. She brought it outside to show her friends. She read it to me every night for a week. It may as well have been a year we made her wait. There were so many preparations to make. Instantly, she wanted to know what she should wear. When can we lay it out? How should we do my hair? What are we going to eat? What if I toot? Real princesses aren't supposed to toot.Excuse me? She said, "Mommy, what if I'm at my Daddy/Daughter Dance and I toot?" I'm surprised this is even a question. "Honey. Just because you feel like you have to toot, doesn't mean you have to do it right then and there. You may go to the bathroom to toot." I can't believe our parenting has been so vague in this area. So all week long she'd come running up to me holding her butt saying, "I'm trying not to toot, Mom." Great, Honey. I'm so proud of you. Thankfully, all her fears were for naught. All her 'practicing' paid off.

Every dance she ever attends will now be measure next to this one. Any boy, will forever be compared to her Daddy who adored her all night long and danced the night away with his princess. I'm so thankful Chuck took the time to do this with her.

The right outfit was paramount. She chose a 'Real Princess' dress for this formal occasion. This was her 'ball' after all. Chuck said they even had a red carpet lining the walkway up to the recreation center that they decked out specially for the occasion. When he asked her to help him pick out his tie, she was giddy to see he owned a pink one. How perfect! It would match her dress perfectly. But instead of choosing that one, she chose a dark colored tie. We asked her why and she said, "What if all the other Daddies make fun of you Daddy because you're wearing a pink tie?" Fashion conscious, yes. But making sure her Daddy doesn't feel bad was more important than matching. He assured her that nobody would make fun of him and she was thrilled to have him wear his pink tie!

I think her favorite part was the pink rose Chuck gave her before they left. It was supposed to be pinned on her dress...but we didn't have a safety pin big enough. So she carried it around with her all night. This is love to a 4 year old!

War & Reality

Bennett loves his Uncle John. Everything about him. So you can imagine how he took the news that his Uncle (who is career Air Force) has to go to Iraq. War is so hard to explain to kids. They don't understand why everyone doesn't just sit down and talk out their differences (kinda like we make them do). This event is weighing heavily on Bennett's little mind. We pray constantly. We talk it over. And it seems he has come to some peace with it. Daddy had him make a special Powerpoint presentation for Uncle John for his computer class. I won't insert his actual slides in here...but this is the closing message Bennett wrote for him: truth is what matters and you have faith when you go to war may the force be with you!

The Car Wash

We are very lucky to have alot of kids in our neighborhood. There are 3 houses full of girls all around Chloe's age on our street. We let the kids play out front together all the time. We're used to hearing girls screaming out in front of our house every afternoon. You know, the 'we're having so much fun the only thing we can do is scream we're so happy' kind of scream. They ride their bikes back and forth on the side walk while they scream. They play chase and scream, they kick the ball, dig in the dirt, play mommy...all while emmiting giddy scream sounds. That's why I was a little concerned when 3 minutes went by and I hadn't heard a single scream. So I went out front to see what the girls were up to.

Leave it to a bunch of girls to organize an impromptu, surprise carwash (thank God it was for the neighbor's car...not mine). They put their collective heads together and this was the best thing they could think of doing. Well why not? They had paper towels. They had hand soap. They had water from my spicket. They had buckets. Seems like the only logical thing to do.

I was so tickled when I walked outside and saw this teamwork. They were soooooo happy. They wanted it to be a surprise for the neighbor girl's mom (believe - was it a surpise! I'm just not sure she thought it as cute and thoughtful as I did). I just had to document this adorable 'play time'.

First, get a bunch of paper towels. Cuz those are great to rub all over the paint job of any car.

Then, run it under the water spicket for a good long time.

Next, wad it up into a ball and scrub your heart out.

If you have any extra vanilla smelling bathroom handsoap, make sure
you squirt ample doses (of the foam) all over the car.

It would help if you beg the neighbor (that would be me) for a water hose to attach to the spicket so that you can get all the soap off faster. I didn't really want to be an accomplice to this 'surprise', but I couldn't in good conscience let vanilla soap be stuck to my neighbor's car along with tons of pieces of wet paper towel. And just look at that teamwork! You go girls!

Voila!! The finished product. Nice, shiny and vanilla scented!

What Food Are You?

So...this morning at breakfast Bennett comes out with, "Mom, if I were a food, I think I'd be ice cream cuz I don't want any teeth chomping down on me."

Okay. This is an interesting line of conversation. I guess I can roll with it.

Chloe quickly pipes up to take "choclick" before anyone else since that's her favorite food in the world. I asked Gavin what he would be. He takes ample time to think and rethink the pros and cons of all food (you will never find him making a rash decision about anything - especially something as important about transferring your personality to a food source). Bennett decides to try to hurry the process and suggests, "You could be milk. Then you'd be friends with all the cereals."

Chloe, "ooo, ooo, ooo...I want that one instead." Sorry, Gavin, milk is now taken. Can you commit to a food choice?

Gavin smugly presents his decision, "I would be chocolate cake cuz I look so special and people can't get enough of me." I knew he was putting some deep thought into this commitment.

That's great. My children are now adding human qualities to food.

Well...I may as well join in the game. I pipe up with, "I'd be cheese so I could smother myself all over everything." Chloe gives me a disgusted look, "ooooo no, Mommy....then all the rats would eat you."

I think I'm done with this line of thought now. Maybe we should try using our thinking process for the greater good and start learning something of value today.

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Retraction -

After careful consideration of Chloe's vile reaction to my food choice, I would like to officially change it to an apple.  My reasons are, they are healthy, sweet and juicy.  I have no clue how those translate into personality traits.  But there you have it.  I am no longer cheese.

Today's Lesson

Let's just say that today was not one of our better days.

In fact, it was a recipe for disaster:

1. Chuck out of town (meaning: the voice of reason for the entire family has disappeared)
2. All children are in a funk, yet I insist on 'following the list' and getting school done come hell or high water - dog gone it, we WILL check every item off our lists today!
3. Patience is not one of my virtues and I lost any and all I might have had in reserves yesterday morning after the puking episode.
4. We had an ice storm the night before and that seemed to be infinitely more intriguing than school.
5. We have all been cooped up in the same house with out a break from each other since Monday morning.

But hey, wait a minute...aren't I the one in charge of this school? If we're having an off day, don't I hold all the veto power? How cool a mom would I have been to say, "Hey kids, free day today! Let's scrap school since we're all in a funk and go outside in the frigid below freezing temperatures and enjoy 3 minutes of sliding on the ice on our perfectly flat driveway!"

Do you think that even crossed my mind once? Nope. I was nazi school mom today. Instead of ease up a bit...I pushed. Instead of show mercy for poor attitudes...I told them to try harder. Instead of talk in a kind, loving voice...I talked as loud as I could inbetween coughing spells with a frog in my throat. Who the heck took over here?

That would be the real me. The side that feels justified for whatever manner of ills seem to be plaguing her. That's me living in the flesh and not by the Spirit. The kids knew it, felt it, and even tried to avoid it. But no...that wasn't enough...I would hunt them down and find something else that was bothering me and let them know about it. Enough already!

Had Chuck been here, I'm sure he would have gently pointed out the error of my ways. But he wasn't. And I have a thick skull. So things take a while longer to hit me than if they were pointed out to me. I pretty much gave the kids the silent treatment for several hours this afternoon. They readily agreed and listened to anything I said for fear of retribution.

Why am I confessing all this? Because this is me. I mess up all the time. I unintentionally hurt my children. I didn't choose grace. I didn't choose patience. I didn't choose love. But don't worry...the day was not a failure...love won out.

Right before bedtime, Gavin came and apologized to me for his attitude during school today (something I felt completely justified in, but handled utterly wrong - just one of those daily battles of being teacher vs. mom). But I noticed he was still distraught, so I asked him if he would share his feelings with me. He doesn't normally do that. He's very even keeled and it takes a lot to upset him. He broke down telling me how sad he gets when I'm sad. He said he doesn't know what to do or how to act; he feels like anything he does will upset me. He asked me, "Mom, next time you're upset at me, can you please get the punishment over with fast. Not like today where the punishment lasted all day." Today, the punishment (to him) was my silence.

Then suddenly my eyes opened. I saw the day through his eyes and not my own 'justified' ones. I saw him hurting for me and sad that he had disappointed me. He saw my silence as anger at him. I saw my silence as confusion on how to handle the situation, so I chose to do nothing and mull it over and over and over in my head (leading only to a headache). I know exactly how he felt. I felt that way often as a child but don't think I had the clarity of mind to put it in those words. My heart melted, and along with it, so did all the frustration, anger, fear and anxiety that seemed to be my constant companions today.

Today's lesson wasn't about what we checked off our list, it was about changing our hearts. It was in my child seeing, feeling and hearing my heart felt apologies and thanking God that "His mercies are new every morning". I can't wait to see what we're going to learn tomorrow, I just pray my heart is more teachable than it was today.