Finding her way...

Today, as we begin our last two official weeks of school, I feel a bit nostalgic...

Next year, Precious Girl begins 7th grade. Middle School?! How did that happen? Just yesterday she was sounding out words as we snuggled on the sofa. Just yesterday we cried together as I tried to explain how to tell time to the nearest minute...

Today?

Today, she is doing Pre-Algebra and enjoying it. (She may not really be my child. *wink*) Today she is flying through The Pilgrim's Progress and loving our discussions of the deeper meaning...

This weekend as I watched her on stage at an Irish Dance feis, my heart was filled with a swirling mix of emotions.

She will be twelve soon. Somehow it seems just yesterday that I was counting little toes on that first morning with her. Now those not-so-little toes dance with joy and beauty and determination. As she lined up with the dancers onstage waiting for her turn, her eyes sought me in the crowd. As our eyes met, we exchanged a smile.

But one time, she didn't look for me. And I know that my role will soon begin to change.

I realize that the privilege of being her mother is not in the holding on, but in the letting go.

As she stepped off stage she said,
"I didn't look for you, because I knew you were there."

She knew I was there, watching and praying, thoroughly enjoying her dance. And that was enough for her.

With one foot still firmly in her childhood, I love the joy and beauty that she sees in the world. I pray that she will keep that joy with her always.

With one foot testing the waters of young ladyhood, I love the questions that she asks and the discussions we have as she tries to find her way.

That's just it, isn't it?...Some of my nostalgia is that she is finding her way...

I don't know what my role will be as she navigates and learns and grows over the next few precious years. But I am thankful that she will never be alone. Even when she and I may disagree, and I'm certain we will, the Holy Spirit will be there to tenderly guide her way.

And me?

Even if she doesn't need me to walk beside her, I'll always be there, just off stage, cheering and praying as she finds her way.

Linking Up:
The Straightened Path
The Better Mom
Far Above Rubies

Peace during the busy season...

Have you ever felt the irresistible urge to throw the calendar in the trash and just stay home?

We have entered the "busy season" in our home. Baseball 3 times a week, dance 3 nights a week and Little One doesn't even have an activity yet...Ugh! : )

There are nights after running around for hours that I want to take that schedule and throw it in the trash and just hold my babies. I know, however, that isn't a reasonable solution.

Little Man loves baseball. He spends hours pitching and throwing the ball in the backyard. He lays out his baseball cards in elaborate piles comparing skills and stats. It is joy to watch him in his element. As I watch him at a game, I often get a bit teary seeing him so full of joy.

Precious Girl lives, breathes Irish Dance. She walks with her feet in turn out just for extra practice. Her fingers dance to music when her toes cannot. "Point cut jump jump jump..." She practices diligently every day except Sunday for far longer than she realizes because it isn't "practice" to her - it is joy.

So the question for our family really isn't

what can we cut out?

because there is nothing to cut. We cannot deny our children the opportunity to utilize their God-given talents.

The question becomes

how can we manage the schedule 

so that it doesn't drive us crazy?

We carve out as much special time together as we can manage.

Monday night is sacred time. There is nothing on the calendar and we strive to keep it that way. That is our night to have a meal with five people gathered around the table to listen, to be fed, to live life together.  It is really my favorite day of the week.

Tuesday night Precious Girl and I talk and laugh in the car as we make the trek to dance class over half an hour away. We use that time to catch up and talk and listen. It has become my chance to hear my daughter's heart and I love that time.

Wednesday, after baseball, we gather at the dinner table even if it means breaking bread at 8:00 p.m.

Thursday, my parents drive Precious Girl to her dance class and my husband and I get some one-on-one time with Little Man and Little One. We try to spend time playing and listening to our youngest children. We want to learn who they are, how to reach their little hearts.

Friday is baseball and a late night at dance so we split up and look forward to Saturday morning after baseball for time together.

It isn't perfect. But it is the best we can do.

Bottom line, we want our children to know that they are precious to us, that they are precious to God, that they have amazing gifts to share with the world. Home is our refuge - a safe place where you can be who you really are, a place to connect and dream...

We always want to manage the schedule to keep it from enslaving us. Carving out special family time in the midst of a busy season gives us all peace.

Our book review policy...

image courtesy Phiseksit freedigitalphotos.net

We have a review policy in our house. That means, whenever the children want to read something that we haven't read, my husband or I must review the book in question first.

Sometimes a very cursory review is acceptable. When we're in the library, it often takes nothing more than reading the back of the book or scanning a few pages to make a decision. Other times, my children can say, "So and so read this book and said it was amazing/funny/interesting..." If I know the child who recommended the book (and what their parents allow), I can often give my permission without hesitation.

Sometimes, it's a bit more tricky than that.

Recently, Precious Girl mentioned that she wanted to read The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins. Despite all of the recent media hype, I had never heard of the book or the author. (No, I don't live under a rock. I just don't really watch TV that much...)

I did a quick search on our local library's website and found (to my disappointment) that there were over 100 holds on the book. At that rate, she would be able to read it sometime before she graduates...When I mentioned the book to my husband, he said that he'd heard it's being made into a movie and that it was very popular among the middle school crowd.

To make a long story short, we ordered the trilogy with the stipulation that I would read the books first according to our "review policy." I presumed I'd find little to stop Precious Girl from reading it. I had read a review on Focus on the Family (link here). They included some very compelling discussion questions at the end of the article and I felt prepared for what I'd find in the pages.

I was wrong.

I tried to read with the eyes of my little girl, and I was stunned and disturbed at what I read.

Many people I know and respect have read the book and enjoyed it -- but they are adults. As a book marketed and targeted to children, I knew it was not for my daughter's eyes...at least not now.

You see, this post really isn't about the Hunger Games at all. Next year...next week there will be another book hot off the presses that promises to be another bestseller. But that doesn't mean my children will read it. It also doesn't necessarily mean that they won't...

But their father and I will decide. Hopefully with both prayer and wisdom we will decide what books cross the threshold of our home.

For better or for worse we help our children choose what fills their tender minds and hearts. We try to guide them to make choices that will help them learn and grow. Sometimes, they will have to read about difficult topics - but not alone. We will be there to ask questions, to provide answers, to pray. The hope is, that we are raising children who will make good choices in what to read. Choices, not dependent on what is popular, but on what is right for them.

So, for now, our review policy stands. We will not allow the world's standards of acceptability to influence our choices for our children. We will make mistakes along the way, but we will learn and grow and continue to look for

whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure,
whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence,
if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.
Philippians 4:8 ESV

Linking Up:
Far Above Rubies
Growing Home
Time Warp Wife
Workin' It Mondays

Redefining a "date"...

Candlelight, fancy dinners, tables for two...
grocery shopping...

grocery shopping??

image courtesy of Ambro freedigitalphotos.net

 Grocery shopping has a new definition at our house. It is now a date for my husband and I. Is it romantic to stroll through the grocery aisles with the love of my life?

Not exactly.

But is it good for our marriage?

Yes it is!

Thirteen years ago, this would NOT have been my idea of a date.

But now, in this season of life, it seems just perfect for our family. It's just a little excursion, but my husband and I get to talk and laugh and discuss things without interruption.

The bonus? The grocery shopping gets done, and it's even become an enjoyable chore.

The lesson I've learned in our grocery store dates is, it's not the location, it's the company that is important. And while, on occasion, it is still nice to have candlelight and fancy dinners, these little grocery store dates are enough of a break from the daily routine to make them fun for both of us.

How do you carve out time with your spouse?

Blessings,

Linking up:
Women Living Well
Deep Roots at Home
A Wise Woman Builds Her Home...

Perfectly equipped...

We've been dealing with some sickness around here lately. My frailty and insufficiency seem insurmountable in times when I am so needed. I am poignantly aware of my inability to do anything besides minister to my family's needs.

God, I feel...so...not enough...help me!

image courtesy of arkorn freedigitalphotos.net

It is that feeling of helplessness that brings my thinking down and I become weary and (dare I admit it?) irritable...I feel like I need to explain to my loved ones, I'm doing everything I can. I am sorry it isn't enough...

But God showed me that it is...

image courtesy of renjith krishnan freedigitalphotos.net

Growing up, my mother seemed perfectly calm and able to deal with any illness. She is a nurse and that is her calling. And I often wish, in the face of sickness, that I could be more like her...

Me? I just want to cry and maybe run away... And I have to repeat: I will not throw up, (breathe,) I will not throw up...as I tell Little Man that it will be ok.

He looks at me with those beautifully clear not-quite-blue eyes, and says, "I love you, Mommy. I'm glad you are here."

And I realize that my children and husband don't need me to be like my mother.

They need... me. 

The me that cries and fusses over them when they are sick. The me that prays over them. The me that gets mad at sickness of any kind and considers germ elimination a kind of mommy-warfare...

I needed to transform my thinking by renewing my mind...
I don't need to be supermom.
It's ok that I hurt when my precious children are sick.
It's ok if I cry when I hold them.
It's ok that I am not perfect. They don't need or expect me to be.

So as I scrub, I pray. I try to recall as many scriptures as I can about health and healing... And I can point their eyes to a loving God who heals. And so, I am...enough.

I am imperfectly perfectly equipped to be there for my children.

And I can smile at yet another spiritual truth I have learned while in the trenches of mothering.

Linking up:
Growing Home: Teach Me Tuesday
Far Above Rubies: Domestically Divine
Time Warp Wife: Titus 2 Tuesdays

It's all part of the dance...

Precious Girl, my oldest daughter, is an Irish Dancer.

This love affair started back when she was a wee little girl of 2 and saw Riverdance for the first time on television. She was transfixed by the graceful, yet powerful dancing. She turned with wide eyes when it was over and said "I dance like that..."

If you will permit me to brag on my Precious Girl a bit, she is graceful and beautiful when she dances. Her joy when she dances shines from her face to her feet.

This gift comes straight from her Heavenly Father (if you've ever seen me dance you will know this to be truth) and it has been exciting to watch her develop her skills.

Part of the Irish Dance world, is the competition, or feis (pronounced "fesh"). These competitions attract hundreds of Irish Dancers from several neighboring states. The judges watch the dancers dance their reels, slip jigs, hornpipes, and treble jigs in front of a nervous and jubilant assembly of other parents.

As a mom, it is so hard to stand on the sidelines and watch my Precious Girl dance.

Don't get me wrong, I love to watch her - she is breathtakingly beautiful...

But she works and works and only has 2 minutes to do everything perfectly to get a trophy. There's a part of me that wants to tap the judge on the shoulder and tell him or her what she needs to know about my dancer...

Excuse me, judge, but did you know that my daughter dances for hours outside of practice - just for the fun of it?


Do you know that dancing is her favorite thing is the world?


Do you know the carpet is worn under her desk because her feet need to dance?


Do you know about the tears when those feet are too sore to dance any more? but yet, somehow she does?


Do you know that she choreographs elaborate dances in a notebook she keeps with her diary?


Do you know that every song she hears, she wonders what step she could do with it?


Do you know that we hear the same few bars of music for days on end as she works to perfect one little part of her dance?


Do you know that underneath the false eyelashes, fancy solo dress and curly wig is a very sweet little girl who just wants to dance?

But, I refrain from telling them. Maybe they do know. Maybe they don't. What is important to me is that my Precious Girl knows for Whom she is dancing. It's part of the dance...

And I watch, holding my breath...and I wait for results, just as anxious as my Precious Girl...

And, we learn together that the joy of the Lord is our strength when the judges didn't agree with us...
And, we learn how to win gracefully as other competitors shed tears of disappointment...

And as we learn and we grow together, it's all part of the dance.

Out of the mouths of babes...

For the past several years at Christmas, our family has written or drawn (depending on the age of the child) "What Christmas Means to Me." 

This year was Little One's first time to re-tell the Christmas Story during school time. She told a hilarious version with her window clings, but we worked on some of the details since then. (Funny version here.) My eyes filled with tears as I looked at her pictures and saw evidence of her growing faith. 

As I looked over her shoulder as she drew (she told me what to write, she's only 3 1/2), I was reminded of the command in Deuteronomy 6: 6 - 8.

And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise. You shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes. 

I'm so thankful as a homeschooling mom that I have the opportunity to speak truth (directly from God's word) to my children all day long. I feel very blessed when I see those very truths take root, blossom and bear fruit.

Have a blessed Monday!

A tradition is born...

We've started a new family tradition! 


I love it because it doesn't require any $$...

just time and creativity!!

A few weeks ago at bedtime on a Sunday evening, Little Man said, "You know what today was?" We all made guesses of obscure holidays and anniversaries. He said, 

"No, It was SUNDAY FUNDAY!"

He was right.

We spent the morning at church, ate leftovers for lunch, and then played football while little one napped. For dinner, I had pulled out all the stops with homemade stuffing, baked turkey, and my kids' favorite green beans. It was like Thanksgiving a few weeks early. Then we read some pre-Thanksgiving stories while curled up on the couch. As the kids brushed their teeth, my hubby and I talked a bit about our day together and then headed up to put the kids to bed without realizing we had done anything super special.

Then, out of the blue, Little Man reminded us that a new tradition was born. Sunday Funday...A new tradition that involved lots of laughter, silliness and time together. And while I had made a special dinner, it wasn't about the food. 

That's how it is sometimes with traditions. They are born out of the ordinary, the humble and are exalted to the status of tradition only by their repetition. 

We have tried very hard to create some of our family traditions (and sometimes have even gone to great expense), but Sunday Funday is my favorite. 

It's a quiet little oasis of family togetherness before a new week begins. A reminder that laughter and love are the glue that holds our family together.

I think it's a keeper.

What traditions are you creating with your family?

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