So here we are...all eight of us plus a short term nanny sleeping in THREE bedrooms.  I've refused to complain regarding our coziness so far.   At least I think I have...maybe I've tried to avoid complaining.  Or just thought about not complaining.  I mean, it really hasn't been bad...up till now.  But can I just say, I think I blocked out the whole baby-crying-at-night thing?  No, I take that back.  Actually by the time all our other kids were Charis' age, they were out of our bedroom and were sleeping soundly through the night, because we quit getting them up to nurse at a certain point at least by 16 weeks or so.  Connor slept 12 hours straight at six weeks old and never wavered from that.   But Charis has been waking up MAD as all get out several nights in a row. 

 She KNOWS we're there, and isn't pleased. 

Out comes the orajel, out comes the Tylenol, a little nursing (for the sake of my poor husband who has to fly or something)...she usually goes right back to sleep.  I'm sure it's teething.  She's relatively happy all day long.  But last night and the night before she cried a loooong time.  It's not  a sad whimpering kind of cry either.  It's a yelling, angry cry. 

And it's LOUD. 

And it's at the foot of our bed. 

 And the closets are not the walk-in variety.  Josh finally got up and moved her porta crib...yes she's still in a travel sized pack and play because there's no ROOM for a bigger crib!!  Anyway, he moved it into the bathroom.  Everybody in Hawaii sleeps with their windows open, and even though ours are closed, I know the neighbors can hear her because they comment when she's had a rough night!  I ought to pass out complimentary ear plugs with an apology note attached. 

So here's an SOS for prayer.   I know sleepless nights come with the territory of babies.  But I refuse to be a human pacifier.  At least I generally reject that sort of pacification.  I have up till now anyway.  If I introduce the whole family bed thing, I know I won't sleep well.  But maybe it would be quiet.  Just thought you might like to know how I'm dreading bedtime tonight!  Here we go...

With mmm!-lovin'-that-baby aloha,

Christa

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So at lunch today, sort of randomly Suza, 3, blurts out, "Mom, you're joking."  I think she was just trying out a new phrase she must have heard someone say. 

Then Jamie,4, retorts with a superior air of experienced authority:  "No Suza, Moms don't joke." 

Oh really?  I did not know this.  I must have missed it in Momhood 101.  I cocked my head to one side, "They don't?  Really?" 

'No" he affirmed with wide-eyed seriousness. "Moms don't joke."  

Uh-oh.  I guess I need to lighten up, eh?  It cracked me up.  I loved that sweeping  generalization.    

Ok--big inhale, so, how's your week going everybody?  Mine's hard work.  Now I'm not being negative at all here.  But I want to be honest, because I've heard all sorts of people comment recently with some degree of wonderment that I seem to appear to be mothering this little brood of a half-dozen youngsters effortlessly.     Or that I'm making it look easy.  (What a pair of earrings, a little lipstick and a smile will do!)  While I am very gratified that I don't appear to be the poster child for Mother Goose's frazzled "old woman who lived in a shoe...with so many children she didn't know what to do" I'm here to confess.  I like the dad in the original Cheaper by the Dozen movie who when the paperboy asked him, "Gee, mister, are these all your kids?" said in a booming voice,  "YES, and believe me, it's NOOOOO picnic!!"   It really is hard work.  But it is so sweet and good.   And I am happy and thankful for each unique precious soul that God has entrusted to my care for this small season of life.  (some days it feels like forever, but it's not.) I remind myself often that these will probably be the times that I look back upon in later years as the best times of our lives.  I often do feel overwhelmed.  The organization required, the patience required, the teaching and training required, the stamina...it is all more than I have. 

 This season of motherhood is of eternal worth though.   We moms must not lose heart as we pour ourselves out in our sacrifice of service!  I think Scripture has trained my mind to cling to the peace that passes understanding.  Titus 2:11 says, "For the grace of God that brings salvation has appeared to all men.  It teaches us to say "No" to ungodliness  and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright and godly lives in this present age..." There is a peace that comes from submitting to the needs and tasks of home-life.   It can preside even when in the midst of a hectic and full day.  I feel it when I coo into the face of my sweet 4 month old baby and watch those beaming baby grins.  I pass it on when stoop to gaze into the eyes of a busy pretending 3 year old and bring her on my lap or up on my  bed for a few moments of singing the ABC's.  I seek to spread it by squeezing my 11 year old's hand as we drive in the car to football practice.  Ironically it really doesn't relate to how many children are under my domain.  It's a product of trusting in Him and obeying his call on my life right now.   

I do have to battle negative thoughts...more often than I'd like to admit.  Particularly at the end of the day...around six o'clock when I tend to be tired, my thoughts can become skewed.  But rest is important...and remaining in the Word.  These are my secret weapons.  Satan revels in our discouragement that robs our joy...from comparisons, busy-ness, inaccurate thoughts.  I have battled resentment at times when I feel I've been robbed of "my" time in a given day or week.  And yet, recently the Lord has revealed to me this thunderbolt of wisdom, "Hey!  You need to expect this to be hard work.  It is!"  I am praying that God continues to bring my heart to embrace it with joy, that he'll help me die to "self."  I pray that you and I both, my cherished mom-friends, will continue setting an example for others with lives that radiate joy and contentment with God's call on our lives to serve our families. 

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Strangely enough, this whole entry was written a few nights ago while we were on the road heading down I-95 as Maggie well noted in her comment.  And I was blogging from my phone, so somehow the entry got lost in cyberspace, though I thought it had worked.  Apparently not. 

Well, we are experiencing the surreal feelings of 80 degree weather at the very end of November.  I haven't experienced this in a LONG time.  Just out of habit I keep wearing my clogs, warm socks and long sleeves only to go outside and keep the car's AC on the whole time.  It's been 11 years since we lived in Florida.  And it sure lives up to it's sunshine state reputation.  I can feel the boost already in my seratonin levels.  The children are observing with curiosity and enjoyment the distinct vegetation of the area, so unlike Ohio.  Spanish moss swaying in the breezes, the Palmetto plants, palms, and tall tall pines.  Crossing the St. Johns river several times today we realized we've missed and are relishing now being near the water again.  A navy family just feels right with an ocean in "the backyard."   

     It's a little bit stressful being jammed in a hotel room with 6 other human beings who aren't very quiet.  Well, my husband isn't so loud.  But I always feel quite self conscious about the noise a crew of this magnitude generates.   I can't bear feeling stared at, but so many people have done double takes at our family in the breakfast room this morning, for example, and even tonight at dinner.  I was very gratified when at the Olive Garden a woman from the next table came over and praised the children's good behavior.  We have a standing principle in our family that if that happens out of the blue while we're out to eat, we'll treat the kids to ice cream. 

We've eaten out every meal for the last several days except the hotel continental breakfast, and I'm sure I'm going to have gained ten pounds from it all. 

     Our new apartment will be ready on Friday, and we visited it today.  I think aside from missing our own things that represent "home" to us, it will be very nice indeed.  The complex is furnishing it for us, so we'll just bring in our clothes. 

    On personal interest level, I've been reading more about the "tween" phenomenon that has gotten more and more media attention lately.  I guess I'm fascinated by this issue on a number of levels: the spiritual, developmental and psychological, and cultural.   Experientially, I know we're beginning to enter new parenting territory this year as our 5th grader and first child is changing quite perceptibly.  I feel defensive of my children's childhood.  Yet in so many ways in our culture, children are becoming so "sophistocated" so soon.  My questions lie in the realm of "how much or what kind of change is appropriate and what are culturally pushed or market driven with all of the technological advances that children often have access to?"  How do the appropriate changes of this age group take place in a Christ-centered life and way?  Thoughts I'm chewing on...feel free to add to the conversation!

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    I hadn't meant to let a whole week slip by before blogging. It's just the having one's house spotless and immaculate that has kept me busy.  LOL.  Anyone who knows my gang knows how tricky that is!  Yesterday we had two showings.  I'll be so relieved when this is behind us and we can relax about messes again!  God was so good though.  I felt prompted before we left the house to have it "ready" just in case we got a request to see the house while we were gone to the city pool.  So I scurried around perfecting everything real quick.  When we pulled out of the driveway there was a "looker" in her car with her three kids chatting to my agent on the phone about seeing the house right away!  Wow...I was so glad I'd listened to that inner prompting.  It must have been the Lord.  Isn't that neat?   

     Some of you have asked me about the Pearl seminar recently.  I'll share a bit here about what he said in response to my question about children visiting other friends and having peer time.  My question arose from the increasing tendency for the children to want to go off to friends' houses.  I've felt hesitant, wondering if much peer time is a good thing.  I've heard speakers/writers assert that peer time is unnecessary, bad and only family should suffice.  But we know these families.  They're pretty nice folks and have pretty good kids.  So I asked Mike his opinion.  He first asserted that he didn't maintain that kids should be isolated from peers.  He felt that it was good for them to learn to cope in social situations.  They ought to learn how to work through things with others, be a friend, be in a tempting situation and even get picked on.  He asserted, however, that positive relationship time with YOU (ie: the mom or dad) should be higher, more, and consequently stronger than that time with peers.  This is so that in the long & short run, the parent's values are weightier than the peer's values.  He also added the provision that if this social time is unsupervised, it should only be with folks in whom you have implicit trust in their spiritual grounding, etc.  So in effect, social time is to be rationed, so to speak, judiciously.  Not unending play-times all day every day. 

     I liked his answer.  But it is a challenge to implement.  Take today, for example.  After having friends over for Bible study this morning, the children began requesting friend time at lunch.  I said no.  "I haven't had time with you yet today!  Let's do something together!"  This wasn't met with cheers.  But, at least they didn't groan. 

"Well, can we play Seafarers of Catan?"  my ten year old replied eagerly.  "You bet!"  I said.  (Even though I know this game will last all of precious nap time and require my utmost in diplomacy for arbitrating conflict between two competetive boys!  And I would have loved to curl up on my bed with a book.)      

     The game was fun.  And it was competetive.  I had to put out fires of frustration and quell dogging of the opponents.  There were some good character tips in our debrief of the three way tie (wink wink--I really won..)  This was just how I put into practice his advice.  It makes sense.  Parents who let peers (especially unhealthy peers) have the bulk of their children's time, wonder what happened when they lose their children's hearts.  I don't want to be in that boat down the road.  The trouble is that it takes OUR time to be unselfish.  To give our own time.  To play the games, take them out to work with us, to homeschool, to get in the pool and splash...not just be a sideline parent.  It's hard (for me) not to be lazy.  Here's to putting your heart into it! 

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Hello dear friends and readers,

I thought this was a nifty map I found at AMADA's blog.  The red states are all the ones I've been to in my life, and the white are ones I haven't.  I'm not really sure about Nevada.  I could have driven through it at one point, which is likely during our cross country moves as a child.  I think I need to see the Northwest!  Golly!  A whole world waiting to be explored...like Lewis and Clark!  I 'd love to follow their trail or something like that.  Wouldn't that be something.
create your own visited states map or check out these Google Hacks.

     Being a military kid and having a military husband there have only been 6 years in my life I haven't been in the Navy.  There's a Naval Academy poem-thing that plebes have to memorize  called "How Long Have You Been in the Navy?"  The plebe answers,

                  "All me bloomin' life. Me mother was a mermaid, me father was King Neptune. I was born on the crest of a wave and rocked in the cradle of the deep. Seaweed and barnacles are me clothes.  Every hair on me head is hemp, every bone in me body is a spar.  And when I spits, I spits tar. I's hard, I is, I am, I are."  I had that poem memorized before I was ten!  And now it's true.  I really have been in the Navy all me bloomin' life!

     My dad loved to challenge us kids.  He didn't make any adjustments for our genders either.  He'd toss us out of the boat into the Potomac or wherever we were with the water skis flying after us.  Didn't he know things grab your legs in murky waters?  You couldn't admit you were scared or cold.  You hated to alter his belief in you.  Dad admired resilience as a facet of strong character.  Having Dad disappointed in you was one of the worst scenarios possible growing up.  I don't know how he managed to program that into us, but I'd sure like to know! 

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    As our family has been reading Little Britches lately, it's gotten me really thinking about how some elements of the rigorous ranching/ pioneer life lend themselves to growing boys into men by providing real responsibility at earlier ages.  This is an area of concern that's been floating around my head a lot in the past years.  How to grow our sons, while homeschooling, into young manhood and not let them grow soft or domesticated in the process of being home with mother all day. 

     At one point we met a wonderful homeschooling family that had three daughters and one 16 yr old son.  The girls were lively, they cooked a lot and helped run the house.  The son was pale, didn't get outdoors much according to his sisters.  His family didn't believe in doing sports and running to lots of outside activity, so he wasn't athletic.  He was an expert at computer stuff and games, which is useful today I guess.  He was quiet, awkward, introverted.  But upon seeing him, I just felt an ache of pity.  It just seemed like something was lacking.  Don't get me wrong, I'm not blaming homeschooling or his mom.  And right or wrong of me, I made an inward note that I wanted my sons to somehow be more rugged when they are sixteen. 

    Our modern convenience oriented life often eliminates the rugged duties sons once performed to keep family life running.  I think especially in our suburban areas.  My question is this:  regardless of where we live in today's world, what are some of the every day real-life stepping stones we can put under our boys feet on their way to becoming men? 

   Jobs & chores are one way.   In the last house we lived (and our current) we had a gas fireplace.  The convenience of gas eliminates the need and mess of chopping and hauling firewood.  While it's much more tidy, I wish we had a wood burning one instead so my sons could have that added to their job list.  It's MANLY work!  There's a picture of my brothers as kids and Dad with their sleeves rolled up showing off their muscles in our family photo album back "home" after they'd all three been chopping, hauling and stacking together for the new wood stove.  The sweat, grins and pride in their faces was priceless. 

    One problem I face is my own self!  I like tidiness.  Often these rigor oriented activities involve some sort of mess or an element of risk.  I have to let some of that go in allowing them build a fort out of all sorts of materials or dig a ditch.  Sometimes we moms can be super safety conscious, which is good.  But we don't  want to give our guys the chance to learn a real-life skill...perhaps things like using an ax, bow and arrow or BB gun if there is remotely any risk involved.  Activities (age appropriate of course) that involve real responsibility build the sense in them that they are stepping toward manhood.  We've given our oldest sons BBguns.  But they first have to pass Dad's safety indoctrination & rules class and are supervised.  If it's improperly handled or not put away correctly, the privilege is suspended.  This last move, we decided to try rural living after living in a very controlled picture perfect neighborhood.  We thought country life would afford more chances for that rugged life.  But moving with the Navy every two years, we won't always have the ability to do this. Some of us are city dwellers, some suburban folks...some country...wherever we live, we need to be growing our sons to manhood...calling them forth and equipping them in character and experience.

    What are some ways you all have helped your sons grow into men (or would or will) in the course of homeschooling?  Leave some ideas or thoughts if you can! 

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I love hydrangeas.  Their pastel puffy blooms are cheerful and soft looking.  We had several bushes in our garden back in London several years ago.  So this past Valentines my dear beloved brought home a lovely potted hydrangea.  Now let me just preface this all by saying that he's the sort that must do something creative,frugal and/ or out of the ordinary--unique, not merely follow the mores of tradition on any given holiday (which as you can imagine, with such expectations and combined with a shortage on time can lead to some rather disappointing days!  I earnestly reassured him that sometimes traditional would suit in a pinch and just knowing I was thought of is lovely.)    The idea was that the potted hydrangea while signifying our past together would also be able to be planted here and grow and thrive...on the windswept prairies of Ohio, unlike the dozen roses which he also brought home, though they would die in a week.   It was obvious which gift he was most excited about.  Hmmm.  The moment after my "ooh's" and my smiling "Ah!" I instantly began to feel sorry for the poor thing.  I couldn't help but feel that upon its exiting the safe-haven of the florist's shop, it was doomed. 

We are green thumb wanna-be's but because of navy life, I rarely invest in houseplants because, well, you just have to give them away in a year after struggling to keep them alive.  So here we go with this lovely plant which that day had two enormous round sky blue blossoms heralding the spring and two green buds promising to open soon.  I placed it in our bright entry hall on the shaker table.  Then walking by it one day, all buds were slumped over.  Aaaa, emergency!  Plant 911 was alerted and we were hurriedly trying to give it water and bring it back to health.  Later that evening the blooms were feebly holding their heads up again, looking at us reproachfully.  Since then it's been a rather sorry downhill slide.  No blooms exist today...the two greens never made it to their sky blue glory, and the edges of the leaves are cracked, though we've given it loads of water.  Everybody's been so sorry it wilted on that one day I'm sure everyone in the family has watered it every day since!  We've probably drowned the poor thing.  It's been transplanted,  and moved to a more noticeable area.  Oh well!  My husband and I  both shook our heads tonight thinking on this poor plant's future of being planted out in the landscape somewhere.  These things thrive in lush, rainy England, but the scorching dry summers of the midwest will not treat it well.  J observed insightfully, "Well, at least kids are more resilient!!" 

Isn't that the truth?  Man, one wrong turn with this plant and we're toast.  Or are we?  Maybe it's that instant gratification mentality that prompts us to hasty conclusions and we'll be able to slowly watch new life overcome the mistake we made.  So many times I've thought of parallels between gardening and parenting...as we grow things (including our children) we become more observant, more aware as we spend more time with our plants.  We give thought to their conditions.  Are we having too heavy a hand?  Too light?  More pruning?  Less pruning?  One thing for sure...neglect (though well-meaning!) will be the undoing of all great intentions.  I'm so thankful that God's grace covers our mistakes with our children.  We water them with our hugs, smiles, "soakie" time in Mom and Dad's big bed.  We pour the sunshine of God's word into their hearts and minds daily.  We prune them with our discipline and training, correcting an attitude that has strayed.  We fertilize them with family dinners around the table sitting together and shouting "hip-hooray's" for the cooks.  How glad my heart is to be the gardener of their souls for this little era of life. 

In the meantime, if somebody knows the houseplant equivalent of a zuchinni plant (gentle on gardener's egos) do tell! 

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I have this little book I love.  I love it partly for its quaint Victorian language but also for its inspiration regarding what building a home is all about.  J.R. Miller's Home-Making has spurred me to realize that home is not merely a place to sleep, eat, raise children, and furnish it to the best of our means.  But that the true idea of home is "that it is a place for growth" for children and parents.  My calling as a home-maker is an awesome opportunity to train and nurture the next generation for the Lord's purposes and to fashion the environment in which that will take place.  He reminds me that I am a gardener, giving thought to the soil, and doing a myriad of other things that will contribute to the optimum conditions for the growth of my "flowers."  How do I grow human souls? 

I am not only a gardener, but an artist.  These days are the ones my children will look back upon as their memories of childhood!  Miller says, "There is nothing in all the influences and surroundings of the home of tender childhood so small that it does not leave its touch of beauty or of marring upon the life."  So these impressions of home will be of eternal import.  I must see myself as the artist whom God has entrusted with all of his materials.  How I use them and shape them he has given me infinite creative domain over.  It's an exciting path.  I stand back.  The canvas is not blank.  Holding my brush in my teeth I squint my eyes to get that blurry effect and see what needs tweaking.  Homeschooling, child-training, activities, friends and worship all are elements of the picture.  But not only these, things more intangible...words spoken, smiles, hugs, firelit evenings together as a family, relationships between brothers and sisters are all a part. 

Well, that is the vision, the reminder, the beautiful calling.  Perhaps how the rubber meets the road, so to speak, will be the topic for future comment. 

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