Confession Sunday

I'm going to let you in on a little secret: my house is a mess . We tore our kitchen out last week, we're cooking in the laundry room, we're eating in the school room, and everything else is scattered.

We used to eat right here...

It's also almond harvest. Typically, the dust is an inch deep over everything from September to November because the almond trees are shaken. A year's worth of dust goes flying off those trees and onto everything. Everything!

Living in the country is pretty and spacious, but Oh! The almond dust!

So, construction dust, almond dust, displacement, and ten generally messy people means my house will not be featured in Better Homes and Gardens anytime soon.

I struggle with this. I like "a place for everything and everything in its place". I like organization and cleanliness, I like living in a tidy environment and I don't like camping, even in my own house. I also like how people in catalogs live. Oh wait! That's right- there are no people living in those rooms in catalogs. They're completely staged.

I remember once hearing Regis Philbin talking about a photo shoot done in his home for a shelter magazine. He said he arrived home from work and didn't recognize the place. "Where did these flowers come from? In the history of my life we've never had a flower arrangement there". I think he was exaggerating a tad about not recognizing his home, but you get my drift.

I'm increasingly irritated by picture-perfect views of life with preschoolers. There's peace in our home (generally), and order and routine, but there is never perfection. If ever you've been made to feel like somehow you can't measure up to what's going on in my home, then I have failed in my mission. We can all be encouraged to improve areas that need improving, and to keep things tidy and clean. But if perfection or a catalog photo is your goal, maybe it's time to rethink your goals.

Two people in this house live in this room. I will refrain from naming them (Hayden and Nate).

I have been blessed with sisters-in-law who have gone before me in this child-rearing endeavor. I recently asked one of them what her philosophy was regarding her kids keeping their rooms clean. She said, "I knew that when they left our home, they were going to do whatever they wanted in their room/dorm/house anyway, and it was not a hill I was choosing to die on". True. I don't like to die on hills every single day. And yet, there is a common courtesy that needs to be learned. They could do a lot more picking up after themselves and I could do a lot less yelling in frustration. All in all, it's still not a hill I want to die on.

A snapshot of the living room, 9/26/2010

Let's briefly go over the above photo, just for humor's sake. That's a snow jacket there on the left. It was 96º here today. Harry Potter #7. A Hawaiian coin purse, a doll, a princess costume, various plastic thingies, a doll's arm sticking up from the floor (I think she's saying, "HELP! GET ME OUT OF THIS MESSY, DUSTY HOUSE!"), a snack container devoid of snacks. Why put it away after you've drained the contents, right? I can make this perfect-house-thing an idol, or I can keep reminding myself that there really are more valuable things in life. I didn't say I won't expect others to pick up after themselves or to take care of what we have been given. But really, there are better things to occupy our time than making our home a showcase. Like this one:

Mighty Joe

Musings and Miscellany, Nurturing MomsKendraSeptember 26, 2010 Comments

June Break and Our Goals

Thank you for letting me take a much-needed break. I've been told by other parents of teens that life amps up exponentially during those years, but I have had to see it to really believe it. Two working sons with jobs in two separate towns, relationship management, school work to finish, band practice, Bible study, our home fellowship group, and yes- I still have six other children. Add golf lessons, VBS, and did I mention I have a two-year-old and a three-year-old? What the month of June did was give me perspective. Out of that perspective came a lengthy late night conversation with my husband about the goals of Preschoolers and Peace. Zeroing in on what is really important (for the blog and in my home), we've decided to implement a few changes based on our goals: 1. I'm sticking to preschoolers. Increasingly I am receiving questions about parenting philosophy, whether we allow our teens to date, and what my opinion is on someone else's parenting philosophy and whether or not they allow their teens to date. While I realize it can be helpful to hear others' perspectives on parenting issues, it becomes sticky when I don't know you or your children personally. You don't know mine personally either, and even if I paint a perfect picture with glossy photos, you might hate us if you met us ;) So unless it's a nitty gritty issue like potty training or a request for recipes that might help you have a more peaceful dinnertime, I'll probably refrain from answering. The Holy Spirit is a far better teacher than I could ever hope to be. 2. I want to give you tools. The original intent of Preschoolers and Peace was to help equip moms who are attempting to educate children at home while at the same time having to manage preschoolers, toddlers, and babies. In that spirit, over the years I have tried to throw a smorgasbord of ideas and options your way so that you might hit on one or two that solves a problem or brings an increased measure of peace to your home. I'll continue to do so, but I've got to be honest: for at least a year now I have said to my closest friends, "What more do I possibly have to say on the subject?" I feel like I've exhausted the best ideas, although I do still have preschoolers and I may have to reach into the very bottom of the barrel to pull out some new tools to use around here. We'll slowly begin to categorize all the old posts so that you can simply click on a subject on the sidebar and pull up everything on, say, preschool curriculum or sleeping through the night. 3. Either there's less time in the day, or I have more to do. Because of this reality, I realize that I cannot keep up the pace of three posts per week. I'll post regularly, but I'm not sure what that looks like yet. You are welcome to "friend" me on Facebook, and be sure to join the Preschoolers and Peace fan page, too. Lively discussions occur there on a regular basis.

♥

I love what God's done with this little blog. I love being available and I love writing. Preschoolers and Peace has been a gift to my family.

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Musings and Miscellany, Nurturing MomsKendraJuly 1, 2010 Comments

Trials and the Peace That Passes All Understanding

From childhood, I had been told of the peace that passes all understanding. I had a sense of that peace, but I didn't know it until I needed it. In fact, I didn't know that Mighty Joe was as sick as he was. Somehow during that first week, I hadn't heard what the doctors were saying. My husband knew, our friends knew, but I did not. It wasn't until day six that I woke up to the realization that Mighty Joe was seriously ill. Seems odd, doesn't it? This is what he looked like:

Those wires attached to his head were tracking brain activity, and every time we believed he had a seizure or other odd brain activity, we were to click a button so that it would register on a screen being monitored by a neurologist. And yet, I didn't understand the severity of the situation.

I consider myself a fairly bright person. I'm not completely daft when it comes to medical terminology. But this was God's grace, and it was that peace that passes all understanding that allowed me to be there for Mighty Joe.

Do you know when you'll experience that peace? At the exact moment you need it. Not a moment sooner, nor later.

Trials and What God Has Done For Our Family

Something changed inside me broke wide open all spilled out Till I had no doubt that something changed

Never would have believed it till I felt it in my own heart In the deepest part the healing came

And I cannot make it And I cannot fake it And I can't afford it But it's mine

Something so amazing in a heart so dark and dim When a wall falls down and the light comes in

And I cannot make it And I cannot fake it And I can't afford it But it's mine

~Sara Groves

♥

In June of 2008, I found our then-seven-week-old son nearly lifeless in his Moses basket. When we entered the ambulance to rush him to the ER, his blood sugar was 13 and he was comatose. It was a harrowing day, stretching into a night that puzzled specialists at the pediatric hospital where he had been transported. "Keep your cell phones close; he may not make it".

Within 48 hours we knew the culprit-- Joe had contracted the Enterovirus, and over the next 11 days we watched his kidneys fail, his liver fail, and his heart strain. Ultimately he emerged with two walnut sized holes in his brain. We've been told all sorts of things to watch for, including blindness, seizures, and learning disabilities.

Mighty Joe turns two today. He is not blind, we suspect one seizure but have seen no others, and he is meeting all of his milestones despite those two walnut-sized holes.

♥

I've been asked several times lately to write about all that our family has been through over the past 23 months. Mighty Joe was just the beginning, really. In December of 2008, our then-five-year-old jumped from our 12-passenger van as I was parking in our circular driveway. She thought I would stop where I normally did, and though that doesn't excuse her from getting out of her booster seat, it explains why she jumped before the car was stopped completely.

The van ran over her. Can you imagine what was going through my head when I heard my other children screaming, "Mom, you just ran over Annesley!"? When I got out of the van that day, I didn't know what I would find when I came around the car. I just remember telling myself that no matter what I saw, I needed to be prepared.

She was crying, and then she stood up and hobbled to the house. Because she wasn't bleeding, could pee, and was completely responsive, I didn't call 911. That decision and my calm demeanor in the ER prompted suspicion, and it's a horrible feeling to be perceived as a parent who did something to purposely harm their child. While Annesley merely had a fractured pelvis that healed with in a month or so, it was very, very difficult for me to recover from the suspicions of the medical professionals in that ER.

♥

In January of 2010, our family was walloped by the flu. We were all down, and two of our daughters spent several nights on makeshift beds on our bathroom floor so we could keep an eye on them. Our eight-year-old daughter, however, wasn't getting better. On Friday morning she was uncommunicative and spacey. Her skin was mottled and she could barely walk. Within an hour of arriving at the ER, she was in emergency surgery for a ruptured appendix that had sent her into septic shock.

For the second time in 18 months, I listened as a surgeon told me my child could be dead within the hour. Three weeks and three surgeries later, we were finally headed home with a sweet girl who'd lost 8 pounds and an appendix. What we gained, however, continues to shape and form our family.

Capacity

I was talking with a mom at church this past Sunday. She and her husband have six young boys, all born one right after the other. The youngest is two, and Deborah mentioned that she is just now feeling like she can engage extended thoughts. Know what she means? When we are parenting young ones, enduring pregnancies, nursing babies, and up at all hours of the night, we tend to slip into survival mode, thinking shallowly through the very next thing, often the very next urgent thing- a dirty diaper, a spilled bowl of pancake batter, a high fever, an appliance repairman's visit. We easily get out of the habit of thinking deep and lengthy thoughts, and if we dare to venture there, those thoughts are more often than not interrupted. Deborah told me she realized early on that her capacity was limited. "I stopped doing anything outside of home and family, because I didn't want those things to interrupt my responsibilities at home. I look at all you do and don't know how you do it!" I'm sure I smiled a weak smile, and I wish I'd assured her that all she is doing is more than enough. Her capacity is different than mine. Not better, not worse, just different. Circumstances cause us all to be able to handle things differently, too. I always reply to working women who tell me they don't know how I homeschool 8 children that I don't know how they do what they do. To me, working and trying to manage a home would put me over capacity. My circumstances allow me to focus on (mainly) homeschooling and managing my home. All the other stuff I take on- writing, reviewing, speaking a couple of times a year- my circumstances allow me to take those on. Likely, your circumstances are different. Just because all these things are on my plate doesn't mean that I am a more stellar mom than you are. It just means my capacity is different. Not better, not worse, just different.

Musings and Miscellany, Nurturing MomsKendraApril 21, 2010 Comments

Reflections on a Daughter's Illness

Sisters

I knew from the very moment things seemed to go awry that God was going to teach us something. Certainly, I haven't learned it all yet, and I suspect I've just barely scratched the surface of this trial. But our daughter's ruptured appendix and recovery from septic shock has been the biggest trial of my life. The reasons are many, multi-layered, and very personal. I'm not sure I can even sort through them yet. I'm recovering from her recovery. In the forefront of lessons learned or yet to be learned is this: I'm sorry. I can't do that. Thanks, Elizabeth. You are a brave woman who has shown me exactly what I needed to see. ♥ A little addendum. I wrote this post a few days ago, but on Saturday night our two-year-old had a seizure. I know. It was out of the blue, the first seizure any of our kids have had to our knowledge, and completely unexpected. He spiked a 103 temp afterward, so we are relieved to know it was a common febrile seizure. Now the phrase, "I'm sorry. I can't do that" carries even more weight.

Musings and Miscellany, Nurturing Moms, Sweet Caroline's StoryKendraFebruary 8, 2010 Comments

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