Knights Becoming and a Lady in Waiting

Fosterling

A queen has a daughter, a beautiful young daughter without defect, blemish, or fault.  Although she loves this daughter dearly-- because she loves this daughter dearly-- she sends her to one of her poorer subjects to be raised.  As she tearfully kisses the baby's face goodbye, she says softly, "You will always be a princess, no matter where you live, but you can only truly be royalty by learning to live away from court."

The young woman who agrees to be the foster-mother is appropriately awed and honored at being chosen to raise a child of royalty.  She takes the small instructional scroll the queen gives her with reverence, vowing to read it daily to keep the very basic requests close to her heart.  "She is my daughter," the queen says gently, "but she will be your daughter as well.  These instructions are for both of you.  I have raised many children before this and I know this will help you."

The new mother keeps her word and reads the scroll daily.  She cherishes the sweet daughter given to her, making note of every smile, gurgle, tear, and advancement.  Every night she sends a letter to the queen, reporting on the daughter's behavior.  She asks for advice.  She reiterates that the child is not only hers, but the queen's as well.

Time passes and the child, as most children do, grows up.  She turns one and toddles around the small hut her mother calls home.  She turns two and learns to say "no" to everything her foster-mother says.  The mother is sharp with her, then penitent, shedding tears as she holds the royal toddler close.  Hoarsely she repledges her promise to raise the girl to the scroll.  In soft whispers, she reminds the girl of her true heritage.

More time passes and the sweet-faced child is now six.  She is a verbal dynamo, requiring far more energy than her foster-mother seems to have to keep up.  The queen sends assistance at times, usually so subtly that the young mother isn't aware of where it is coming from, but still the mother falters.  The letters reporting on her daughter's progress become fewer and farther between.  The little scroll is neglected, dusty, and then forgotten.

Still more years later and the princess is nearly a teen.  She no longer remembers that she is royalty, nor does she act like it.  She is rude and inconsiderate to her mother and others alike.  Her language leaves much to be desired.  Her weary foster-mother watches her with a kind of despair.  The little scroll has been untouched for years. 

On her sixteenth birthday, the princess demands a party.  Although she doesn't have the money for the party her daughter asks for, the foster-mother hopes this will be a turning point in their relationship, so she pulls everything together to give the girl her desires.  Spoilt and greedy, the young woman throws the gifts aside, stages a massive temper tantrum, and runs away, leaving her mother standing in the midst of the rubble of her dreams.

The girl vanishes.  Although the heartbroken foster-mother searches everywhere, the girl cannot be found.  She is simply... gone.  Wretched and guilt-ridden, the foster-mother finally takes herself to the throne room of the queen.  Not ever looking up, she throws herself prone on the ground, her care-worn face streaked with tears, dust, and sorrow.  "I have failed you, Your Majesty," she sobs out, her words nearly lost to the ground.  "I have forgotten your rules and neglected your daughter.  I didn't raise her like you asked.  Now, she is gone.  You gave me one precious charge-- a sacred trust-- and I failed."

There is a rustling and a gentle hand lifts the dejected woman's face.  The queen is down on her knees, affection and forgiveness in her countenance.  "Dear child," she says gently, "I have waited years for you to come and tell me.  Had you come to me when the princess was two, you would have been spared so much misery.  Had you come to me when she was six, there would have been pain, yes, but it would have been brief.  Even if you had come to me when she first approached womanhood, she could have been restored to you.  Now, however, the damage is done.  I have brought her home.  She had a very difficult time when she ran away, but some part of her remembered she was mine.  She came to me-- and here she will stay."

The heart-broken foster-mother closes her eyes in anguish.  "Will I never see her again?  I do not deserve to raise her, but I love her as my own."

The queen's voice is soft, loving, but firm.  "One day, dear child, you will come to live here, too.  Then you will see your daughter again.  Until then, you must live the life you have."

With an emptiness where her heart still beat, the foster-mother trudged back home.  For long years she worked... until the day she could once again hold her daughter in her arms.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

I am not a perfect mother.  Worse, I am not a very good foster-mother.  I do not want to do things God's way; I want to do them mine.  But these children, these sweet, frustrating children that tug my heart in so many directions-- these children are not mine.  They are God's.  I am a foster-mother, given the awesome and terrifying responsibility of raising the children of the King.   He gives me everything I need to raise them-- if I will take it.  He gives me every instruction I need to get through the hard times-- if I will read them.  He wants me to tell Him their every action, to ask Him for advice concerning their every move, and to listen when He tells me exactly how things should be-- but I fail to listen.

If I fail long enough, I may lose them.  I may lose them to the world.  I may lose them to teenage rebellion.  I may lose them in death-- and only see them again, God willing, in Heaven.  Oh, how a part of my heart dies when I think I might lose them!

Math, science, reading, writing... it is all "meaningless! Meaningless... utter meaningless!" as the prophet says in Ecclesiastes 1:2.  Or, as it says in Matthew 16:26:

 For what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?

Instead, I should

 Train ^[a] a child in the way he should go,
       and when he is old he will not turn from it.

Proverbs 22:6

and

Fathers, do not exasperate your children; instead, bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord.

Ephesians 6:4

Isn't it amazing how many of us parents quote Ephesians 6:1 at our children ("Children, obey your parents in the Lord"), yet we neglect the parents' command to raise our children in the training of the Lord?

My children are still young.  God hasn't taken them from me yet.  There is still time to throw myself down, unworthy, at the feet of the King to beg for a second, third, hundredth chance.

There is time to change.

There is time to read the scroll, to drink in His wise and experienced instruction.

There is time to learn.

There is time to spend hours on my knees, kneeling before the Most High, not only reporting on how I am raising His sweet children, but taking in His guidance in their lives.

There is time to pray.

Amen... Omaine.  So be it.

Watercolor Ponies

Angela has a poignant post on her blog about her three-year-old getting so big and time flying by.  I made the mistake of reading it just as Wayne Watson's Watercolor Ponies was playing.  Or maybe it's not a mistake.  Maybe God is trying to impress something on me.

Because I have three children under my six-year-old, I think of six as an OLDER child, not a little boy.  Yet my six-year-old is still a tender young child.  In the Middle Ages, he would've still been in the part of the household where the women and children stayed, not in with the boys and men.  Why do I treat him like he's so big when all he wants is to be my oldest baby?

For those who have never heard the Wayne Watson song, I strongly recommend it to parents of young children-- especially young boys.

And, baby, what will we do,

When it comes down to me and you?

They look a little less like little boys every day.

For the pleasure of watchin' the children growin'

Is mixed with a bitter cup

Of knowin' the watercolor ponies will one day

Ride away.

(Listen to a bit here or download the entire song.)

One day, my little boys won't be little anymore and there won't be any more watercolor ponies (or chalkboard anteaters).  I'm going off to treasure the ones I have, while I have them.

Knighthood: Page Training

Because nsremom asked me about our "knighthood" training and because I know a few more of you out there with multiple boys, I'm going to try to explain our vision for knighthood here.  Please understand that we're still working on this so a lot of it is pretty vague yet and none of it is kid-tested. :)

The idea for knighthood came when we were (well, I was) trying to find some sort of rite of passage for boys.  I grew up in an all-girl household and my DH has just one sister, so raising a herd of boys was a bit daunting, to say the least.  When we started studying the Middle Ages, though, there it was, laid out for us.  Three distinct steps.  Perfect.

I like that the page (level 1) doesn't start until age 7.  It's helped me to relax a bit with the boys.  Before age 7, boys stayed with the rest of the children and acted like children.  They would learn basic home skills, manners, and often learn their catechism.  A few might be taught the very basics of reading and writing, but that was rare.  They were BOYS.

At age 7, they became pages.  They ran errands, performed HUMBLE services, learned to wait, practiced more detailed manners, and learned reading, writing, manners, numbers, singing, dancing, reverence for God and how to use a sword.  Hey, you have phonics, handwriting/ writing, manners, math, music, Bible and P.E.! *laugh*

Although it isn't really what a knight in training did, the craftsmen would train boys as apprentices at age 7 as well, so we let the boys choose one skill that they want to focus on (since I do NOT want them practicing swords all day long --- smilies not working *sniffle*).  I have a feeling Prince Berryboy is going to make that skill art, as he loves art.  We'll see.

This is the age when boys were drilled in their manners and Bible and I intend to do the same.  If necessary, they can catch up later in math and reading.  You can't seem to ever catch up in manners and Bible. :)

The shield idea came when I was reading Jaminacema's blog and she wrote about having quilts for each of her girls (or maybe all the children).  Quilts aren't my thing.  They're not my boys' thing.  So I thought we'd do shields.  Still working on the details because I have once-again overcommitted myself over the summer. *wry smile*

That's years 7-13 in a nutshell.  I'll post on Squire/ Journeyman the next time.

Oh, I was asked if I used any sort of package curriculum or if I made this up.  There are books out there on this subject, but I've made my own so far.  Some of those books are:

• Raising a Modern-Day Knight by Robert Lewis ($10.49 at ChristianBook.com).  I don't use this one because it is focused on the fathers and, well, my DH is a bit passive at best in this area.
• Official Knight's Handbook by Usborne Books ($11.49 at ChristianBook.com).  I just now learned about this one and may try to take a look at it later.

The other books are about the man becoming a knight for his wife (which I do like!) or the woman waiting for her knight (which I also like) and are not relevant to this.

Hope this helps. :)

Knights and Princesses

I am watching my Beth Moore study, Living Beyond Yourself, tonight and I had to stop and blog this.  I am just shy of crying (my eyes are dry or I'd be pouring) with the truth of something she impressed on me.

She was talking about a book signing for kids she went to.  She said the kids could dress up as something from the book if they wanted to.

The girls came dressed as princesses.  Why?  Because every girl wants to be someone's princess.  She wants someone to love her.  She wants someone to think she's beautiful.  She wants someone to melt when they see her.

The boys didn't come dressed as princes.  They came dressed as knights.  Why?  Because every boy wants to prove he is courageous.  Every boy wants to rescue the weak, the hurting, the damsel-in-distress.  Every boy wants someone to look at him and think he is the bravest, strongest, and most wonderful person there is.

Girls grow up to be women... and they still want to be princesses to someone.

Boys grow up to be men... and, beneath the armor, they still want to prove they're not the Cowardly Lion.

I don't think I have many men in my regular audience, but for those who skip through here by "accident", when was the last time you told your personal princess you thought she was beautiful?  More importantly, when was the last time you showed her she takes your breath away?

For the women out there, when was the last time you let your knight slay your dragons for you, rather than you going off and doing it yourself (because, after all, you could do it better, faster, and more efficiently in this new, women-empowered world)?  When was the last time you let him know that you really can't escape the dungeons of your life without his strong arm, steady heart, and sacrificial spirit?

When I started writing this, I had planned to have you go tell your little knights and princesses how brave and beautiful they are.  Not anymore.

Men, go sweep your princess off her feet.  If you can do so, rescue her for a weekend, an evening, or an hour from the castle of drudgery.  Make her dress up (even those of us who don't like it much enjoy doing it occasionally for our dearest).  Treat her like a true princess all evening.  Open doors.  Hold her hand.  Don't take your eyes off of her.  (And if you can't go out, wait until the kids are in bed and do it  then).

Women, find something your knight can truly rescue you from, ask him for help, and then accept his help with true gratitude when he gives it.  If you have learned to be a very capable Superwoman (and I assure you, I am casting NO stones here), take a step back.  Are you emasculating your husband?  Are you making him feel like he doesn't need to protect you, to defend you, to even help you?  If he already takes care of you, then find some way to show how you appreciate it.  Make him feel like the superhero for a day.

Today a mouse jumped out of the birdseed right as I was going to refill the feeder.  I guess the rats have desensitized me a bit, because I looked at it calmly for a moment (it just crouched there in the grass, sides heaving) before deciding to scream.

"HonnnnnNEY!"

I was rather surprised when my DH actually came running.  Okay, admittedly, he didn't do much.  I moved, the poor mouse ran, and that was that.  But he came, imaginary sword ready for battle, just to rescue me.

I do feel just a bit like a princess tonight.

Shields

My sons are very into knights, castles, swords... you know, all those manly things from days of old.  I was reading  jaminacema's blog where she has these wonderful quilts for each of her children.  At the end of each year, her kids sign the quilts and she dates them, a symbol that they have graduated from that year.  It is a totally cool idea, especially if you're into milestones, but:

a) I don't sew much more than a buttonhole yet; four quilts could take up the rest of my natural life

b) The princes, at least, are not into quilts.  The princess may be, but they are not.

So I'm thinking I'll see if I can find, buy, or make some sort of wooden shields for each of them.  On the front, they'll get to design their coat of arms the year they become a page (roughly age seven in medieval times).  On the back, they can sign and date every year as they finish that year's "training".  I think a good verse from Proverbs would probably be a perfect finishing touch.

If... no, no, when we get around to making these (my oldest will be a page next year), I'll try to remember to post a picture here.

Thanks for the idea, Jaminacema! :)

Good Night, Sweet Princes: When They Just Won't Sleep

I was talking to my mom on the phone earlier and we drifted around to the kids (as always).

"Prince Berryboy [real names have been changed to protect the guilty] was up at 12:30 a.m. last night."

"What was he doing up at that time?"

"Cutting paper."

Don't get me wrong.  I am all for my son practicing his creativity and getting in some fine motor skill work at the same time... during normal working hours.  But, besides the fact that he's grounded from paper use for two days (please, don't get me started), it was, well, the next day.  While we're not an "early to bed, early to rise" famiily, we do, eventually, get up in the morning.

My mom interrupted my thoughts.

"I seem to remember another child who liked to get up after her parents went to bed and sneak around the house."

Ahem.  It wasn't sneaking.  I was just being polite and not waking up all those odd people who wanted to sleep through the best part of the day.  But... point taken.

"Yeah, well, I didn't yell at him.  I just asked him to put it away and go to bed."

Okay, genetics aside, there are some good tricks for getting your non-sleeping little princes (and occasionally the more amenable princess) to sleep at night.

1) Routine, routine, routine.

Let me say it again: routine.  Even if everything else is out of whack, a routine can save the evening a lot of the time.  I don't mean a little checklist that you follow down to the last second.  I mean that when you do certain things in a certain order, the kids know it's time to go to bed.

Our routine is a bit disrupted right now, but it still runs pretty close to this.  First, baths or getting ready for bed (nope, we just don't take baths every night during the winter).  Next, brushing teeth, using the bathroom, getting a last drink, choosing new stuffed animals to sleep with... all those fun things my kids love to do after the lights are out.  The big portion of bedtime is spent reading together.  We have read together every night since 1DS6 was born (with a few notable and not very happy exceptions).  It helps to calm the kids down and get them prepped for bedtime mode.  Finally, hugs and kisses, then prayers and tuck-in.  Again, it's not completely fail-proof (or fool-proof, in our case), but we can definitely tell when we don't do it.

2) Watch what goes in.  No drinks for the potty-trained ones after 7 p.m.  No caffeine, period.  No sugar after naptime.  Occasionally we make allowances for the first and third points, but only twice have our children had caffeine (that I am aware of).  It was not a pretty sight.

3)  Wear 'em out!  I have Dr. James Dobson's book The Strong-Willed Child to thank for this one.  [Note: commercial link]  If you have an energetic child and he (or she) doesn't get enough physical and mental exercise, they aren't going to sleep-- at least, not without a lot of fussin', fumin', and fightin'.  Not worth it.  A "school age" child needs a minimum of an hour of exercise each day.  I daresay their little brains need a minimum of one hour of mental exercise, too.  When they don't get it, they have excess energy to burn off.

DH and I remember to practice this a lot better when we're road-tripping across the country than when we're at home.  If we are taking the 28-hour trip to visit our families, we will drive for two-to-four hours at a stint, then stop at a rest stop, not a city, and let the kids run it out.  We'll do potty breaks and snacks, too, but it's the 15 minutes of active play that make it possible for us to get back in the car with minimal whining and drive for another extended stint without too much cajoling.  We do a longer break at lunch time and try to get in a quick walk when we stop for the night.  I'm not sure why I don't make sure we do this at home, but I suspect the joys of getting four kids under six into socks, shoes, jackets and hats may have something to do with it.

So, to recap, set yourself up for a good night's sleep with three simple little steps.  Have a routine,  control what goes into your child's body (and brain!), and get that energy out.  If you do all three, you should see pretty good results.  If you don't... I'll see you online a little after midnight.

Armor and Earplugs

I showed one of my local HSing friends the magazine cover that my sons and I made up yesterday.  Her first question was, "Did you write the articles, too?"

Hmm.  No, I didn't.  But I could, right?  So, today, welcome to the first article from Knights Becoming magazine. ;)

Armor and Earplugs

Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of His might.

Put on the full armor of God, so that you will be able to stand firm against the schemes of the devil.

... Stand firm, therefore, having girded your loins with truth, and having put on the breastplate of righteousness,

And having shod your feet with the preparation of the gospel of peace;

In addition to all, taking up the shield of faith with which you will be able to extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one.

And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.

Ephesians 6:10-11, 13-17

Oh, how often I try to be strong on my own two feet and the strength of my gradually slowing body!

I have been blessed with three energetic little boys (and a quiet little girl!) who keep me on my toes at all times.  Just today, I had to run across a mown-down cornfield to catch my two-year-old son.  Did I mention that this was while I was carrying a backpack and after I had already run across a pretty good expanse of grass?  Oh, and the cornfield was muddy and wet.  You get the picture.

By the time I caught up to my gleefully fleeing son, I was out of breath and out of patience.  I was also out of time, as I could hear my daughter wailing for mommy to come back... NOW.  My chief mischief maker (aka Son #3) was not yet done with his game and thought the next field over looked like a good idea.  Fortunately, my reflexes were faster than my running shoes and I caught him before he took off again.  Much to his indignation, I hauled him up on my shoulder like a sack of grain and trudged back to my other waiting children.

After loading them all into the car, fastening car seats, and handing out snacks and drinks for the drive home, I was able to take a breather for just a second.  It hit me: I am not young anymore.  I am by no means middle-aged, either, but that little jaunt took a lot of energy out of me.  We're not just talking physical energy, either.  Emotionally I was a bit worn down (babies squalling tend to do that to a person); spiritually I was in need of a long drink of spiritual water.

This would be the time that my children decided to sing "John Jacob Jingleheimer Smith" at the top of their precious little lungs.

I don't really own earplugs. I wouldn't dare use them if I did, because I'd miss those frightening little silences in my home that mean my children are up to something they'd really rather I didn't know about.  But I am learning to put in little mental earplugs occasionally and just let the noise go.  I notice I do a better job with these imaginary earplugs on the days when I've had a good dose of spiritual renewal.  Time spent in prayer, Bible study, and just treasuring God provides me a helmet (better than a hard head) to deal with my stubborn little boys.  It gives me a sword to cut through all the "stuff" the world feeds us about how to deal with our children so I'm more likely to deal with them in a Godly manner.  It gives me a wonderful shield from, well, "John Jacob Jingleheimer Smith" sung full volume (and off-key) in an enclosed space.  It gives me peace, rather than anger, righteousness rather than self-righteousness, and truth rather than defeat.

I did eventually have to ask the boys to quiet down (hey, their sister was trying to sleep!), but I was able to do it in a loving manner-- and I wasn't mad.  Had I tried to deal with it on my own strength, I would have failed.  But thanks to a little armor and some virtual earplugs, our ride home was loud, but peaceful.

New Homeschool Magazine

Or, My Life in Articles

Thanks to Prattling Pastor's Wife at Academy252 for this link.

Let me know if you do this. :)

Untitled Story

I tell my children little stories about themselves, but using "alter egos".  I've done it since my oldest (now 6) was two, when we moved to a new community and didn't know anyone.  To preserve these stories, I'm going to list them here as well so I can remember them.  Who knows?  Maybe some of you out there have little princes or a Princess Moo who would enjoy them.

[I hate to have to do this part, but as with any written, published stuff, this is under my copyright.  You are welcome to share it, but please keep my name attached.  Thanks!]

-- Not Yet Knights --

Once upon a time, not so very long ago, in a land not so very far away, there were three little boys named Prince Berryboy, Prince Derryboy, and Prince Dannyboy.  They lived with their father, the King, their mother, the Queen, and their baby sister, Princess Moo in a small castle between a large forest and the ocean.

This particular morning, the three boys woke up with a need for adventure.  After devouring three hotcakes, six sausages, two pieces of fruit, a hard-boiled quail egg, and two large glasses of milk a piece, they went to look for a quest.  When they found Queen Mother overseeing Princess Moo in her bath, they asked her if she had a quest for them.

With great solemnity, she nodded.  "I need three brave knights to rid the forest of a dangerous green dragon.  If you can perform this task for me, you would have my unending gratitude."

The three princes were immediately afire with the idea and ready to set out at once, but the wise queen advised them to wear the proper attire.  Each young knight donned his best tunic and hose, chain mail, and coif, or helmet.  Still holding their shields and swords, they went to bid their mother adieu.

"You will need a lady's token," she said with a hint of a smile.  "Let me get you each one."  With that, she disappeared for a moment, coming back with three handkerchiefs.  "Keep these with you and bring them back to me safely.  You will be in my prayers."

The three knights put on brave faces, gave Princess Moo kisses on her chubby little cheeks, and set out on their quest.

First, they stopped by the stable for their mounts.  Each knight spent careful moments brushing his steed and putting on its tack.  When all three brothers were ready, they set off to find the dreaded green dragon.

For a long while, they travelled with laughter and joking, but as they got closer to where it was rumored the dragon had its lair, they got very quiet.  Green dragons were known for a ferocious bite and quick reflexes.  The young princes would have to be very careful, indeed.

Carefully, they dismounted from their horses and tied them to a tree near plenty of grass.  After giving the brave steeds water, they set off on foot for the last part of their journey.

A long trek up a steep hill led the princes to a small cave.  They each looked at the others grimly.  Someone, after all, had to go first.  Should it be Prince Berryboy, because he was oldest?  Should it be Prince Derryboy, because he was the best swordsman?  Or should it be Prince Dannyboy, because he was the smallest and would fit the easiest into the cave?

Their decision was made for them as the green dragon ventured out of the cave, blinking in the bright sunlight.  With a heroic shout, all three knights ran after the dragon, chasing him over hill and dale until he took flight altogether and was never seen in the area again.

Bubbling with excitement and accomplishment, the three tired young princes rode home to the castle, bursting with the story of their accomplishment.

In the castle, Queen Mother looked out the kitchen window as her sons chased the lizard, then started back on their wooden horses.  Chuckling softly to herself, she went to prepare them a snack fit for conquering heroes and to wash their grimy little hands.

The End.

[Not the best of the stories, but this is the one I told them yesterday, so I could remember it.  *laughter*]