My mother-in-law always tucks little notes in the packages that she sends to our family.  I had read this one before and enjoyed it again this time.

If I Had My Child to Raise Over Again,
If I had my child to raise all over again,
I'd finger-paint more, and point the finger less.
I would do less correcting and more connecting.
I'd take my eyes off my watch, and watch with my eyes.
I would care to know less and know to care more.
I'd take more hikes and fly more kites.
I'd stop playing serious, and seriously play.
I would run through more fields and gaze at more stars.
I'd do more hugging and less tugging.
I'd build self-esteem first, and the house later.
I would be firm less often, and affirm much more.
I'd teach less about the love of power,
And more about the power of love.
Diane Loomans.

A gentle reminder that these days will not last forever.   I know that I will miss them, and must remember that in the heat of those moments that we all have as moms.

I recently heard a "Power Charge" on our local radio station.  I must admit that I wasn't listening EXTREMELY closely, because I was  busy sanding drywall at the time.  My ears perked up when I realized that he was talking of thankfullness, and then I heard the word anxiety.

Thanksgiving is my absolute favorite holiday of the year. Thanksgiving is least "polluted" of the holidays.  Sure many thing of it as Turkey Day and a chance to hang out with family watching football, but almost everyone still give THANKS for what they are blessed with.  People who never think about God blessing them, still remember that they are so BLESSED on this day, even if they don't think about who is really doing the blessing.  I am not naive to the point that I think that people are all out their celebrating the fact that it is God who has given them all these blessing, but I do believe that people are GRATEFUL for what they have on this day. I love Thanksgiving, it isn't about gifts or treats  and there is no mythical creature sneaking in to bring us anything. It is only about being thankful for all we have. 

In the part of the Power charge that I heard, he said that you can't be anxious when you are being thankful.  If you are busy thinking about all the blessing God has given to you or the things He has taken care of for you, you can't be anxious about things. I immediately got irritated.

I am a person who fights anxiety.  I believe it is a battle I have fought for my entire life.  Now that I am adult, and fully aware of this battle, I look back at myself as a child and can understand so much that ran through my young head.  A few years ago I started taking an anti-anxiety medication because I can't seem to control it at times, and this was on TOP of all the natural things that I take just to help relax me.  If you know me in real life, I don't sit still real well.  I have a hard time doing nothing.   Even when my husband and I sit down to relax together and  watch TV, and I am grading, surfing, playing sudoku, or anything to keep me TRULY busy. 

I am anxious all the time!  Even when I am not really thinking or worrying about something!  I just am very naturally anxious.  If I didn't ever take the magical herbs and pill that I take everynight, I would NEVER sleep and would NEVER quit moving.

HOWEVER...

As a christian, I have long done battle with Phillipians 4.6

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God

I believe this with EVERY fiber of my being.  I KNOW that God is meeting all my needs. I KNOW that God is actively involved in every aspect of my mind.  I am SO THANKFUL for all the blessings that HE has bestowed on me.  My life would truly be nothing without Him.  I know that.  I also know that I should ne in prayer more often and being verybally thankful for what I have more.  I know that I have not arrived in the thankfullness or prayer department, but OH MY, DO YOU KNOW HOW BLESSED I AM????

However, I don't understand what to do with an anxiety that I cannot really control.  It is just there.  If I decided that I was going off all the things I do to help with my anxiety, and decided that I was going to thankful instead, my husband would probably run off to a foreign land and take the kids with him.  At what point ....?

I know God is in control of all things.

I know He is bigger than my anxious nature.

I know that He has blessed in in countless ways that I cannot begin to fathom.  I am a blessed person.

So, am I a disobedient Christian because I take measures to control my anxiety?  It is such a hard question for me.  I have mentally battled it for YEARS. 

Another Thanksgiving rolls around, and I am thrilled to see it.  I am thankfully daily for my blessed life. 

....and I am still worried if I am anxious too much... hmmmmm....

One task in my home do I loathe more than any other.  I would rather clean up dog poo, scrub toilets after the stomach flu, do the laundry that I hate to do, clean the fridge.... You get the picture, right?

I HATE DOING THE DISHES!!!! 

I really do. It is the most irritating task on my mom list.  My hatred for dishes began in my younger days. I would routinely trade my brother my dishes duty for almost any other chore we ever had.  I used to be so grossed out by the piles of dishes and sinks with not so fresh water.  I HATE DISHES. 

When we got married, I was quite frank with my husband-to-be.  I told him there was two things that I do not do.  I don't clean do puke. I don't do dishes.  He lovingly, yet naively promised me that he would take care of puke for the rest of our blessed cohabitation, and he would always make sure I had a dishwasher.  He went as far as to say, that if ever, we were without one, he would wash the dishes for me. 

 I know that if you know us, and you know my husband, you are laughing at your screen at this very moment.  JP doesn't do housework!  He doesn't.  I love him dearly, but he is not domestically gifted.  It caused many a squabble in our young married days, and even a few in the current years.  I finally came to the conclusion that since I was a stay at home mom for many of those years, that I would do all the work myself and try to only grumble occasionally. 

Then, I went back to work.  I now work full time teaching and he has definitely tried to pitch in more.  He even learned how to operate our washing machine this summer!  He gets up with the kids and I, and makes breakfast, and helps everyone get out the door. He often puts supper in for us, as long as I have it planned, and he puts kids to bed at night.  We have found a working balance... for the most part. I am not saying it is without conflict, but we have been doing okay ... I think.

As you know, last weekend my fancy smanshy front loading wash machine kicked the bucket.  For a family of six, with a mom who works all week, this is NOT a good thing to happen on the weekend.  I do almost ALL of laundry on the weekend! I had even dreamed I was going to have to go to work not in appropriate clothing with un-uniformed kids to school.  After a few days, when the washed returned to working order, my husband even did laundry while I was at work!!!!!!!  I was thrilled.   I am still not caught up, but we don't have to go to school nude now!

This weekend, we have a long to do list, and what could go wrong?  WELL....  how about my precious dishwasher dying?!?  I can't handle that!  ANYTHING but that.  TAKE MY FANCY WASHER... TAKE MY FRIDGE, but don't take the dishwasher!        Alas, it is dead. 

I avoided the dishes all day, and the piled high.  I made a last ditch effort to bring my BFF to life, and all hope was lost. I was going to forced to wash those stinking dishes. I HATE DISHES. 

I begrudingly began my dreaded task.  I fumed as my  husband retreated to the basement without care of his naive promise of years past.  What was he thinking?  I washed.   I dug out the wood dishrack that I bought at IKEA because I thought it was cute. I washed and washed.

Our boys walked in, and saw the novel contraption on the counter.  #4 screams, "What  is that thing?"  "Wow, cool!" chimes #1.  I broke out in laughter. 

I tucked the monsters into their beds, and returned to washing, and my husband finally emerged from his basement lair.  I tossed him a dishtowel, half expecting that I would need to duck imenently, and he stepped up and began to dry.  WHO WAS THIS MAN?

I washed, he dried, and he finally learned the locations of many things in our kitchen.  He could now acutally locate the mixing bowels, large rubbermaid containers, and Pampered Chef stoneware without panicking and calling me.  What an amazing thing! 

We giggled and washed some more.  He retreated again to his lair, and this time, I was no longer angry.  I did not hope for him to fall down the stairs, or trip over the laundry piles at the bottom.  He was free to go.

When I was in the car this morning, I heard a devotional minute about the power of positive thinking.  My mind instantly ran cynically around the cliche.  (I know that you are shocked that I would be critical in any way)  However, at this very moment, it seems very poignant.  I could change my circumstances!  I could remember that this is a blessing to my family, and part of my job as a wife and mom.  No one likes all of their job, and I promise you that I will not actually anjoy the dishes, but I can try and remember to not have a bad attitude doing it.  I can think of the dirty little hands that smudged the glasses and chubby cheeks that inhaled the food off of those plates. 

And I will pray that JP remembers that promise and does the dishes.

and that the washer will work.

My husband has told me so often about different "projects" he had as a child.  Considering the fact that he is not the world's handiest man, I have often doubted some of the tales. 

I was gone this morning to Cotsco with my mom and aunts.  I got up this morning and scrubbed down the kitchen in preparation for my return with a load of food.  I left to do lists for the clan.  On my "Honey Please" list I said PLEASE don't make a big mess.  When he pulled in earlier this afternoon, you cannot imagine my thoughts when I see the neighborhood kids, our kids, and my husband out front with saws, sanders, and paints.  He was sharing one of his childhood projects with them.

My mind immediately raced to my lists.  Did they do anything productive in my absence?  I wonder what the house looks like.  I had put "Pick up the Yard" on the list, and I can assure you the yard was not looking its tidiest.  I was pleasantly surprised it had been mowed. 

I put on my happy face, and sweetly asked  what they were doing.  I was immediately and proudly shown the first round of plywood shields.  He was cutting magic wands next, and then on to swords.  Spray paint was flying, and sanders were buzzing.  I smiled, and walked away.

They kept at work for several hours. I helped by wrapping yarn around handles and consulting on color choices for the fairy princesses.  Some pounding and final alterations are still taking place in the near darkness. 

At first, the modern mom  in me was appalled by the barbarian nature of today's arts and craft time.  A good mom has NO business allowing her children to play with power tools, much less run about our yard with wooden swords and shields attatched to their arms by old jean legs.  Someone may just lose an eye!

We live in a society where we we protect our young from almost everything.  We shield our precious darlings from all those things considered dangerous, yet it seems that we still have emergency rooms full of broken legs and stitched heads.  Kids will be kids, won't they?  Maybe sometimes, we should just let them play! 

Didn't our parents survive a childhood full of unsafe playthings?  Didn't our grandparents  play with rocks and sticks down at the ole swimming hole?  Yet, somehow they survived long enough to become our grandparents. Didn't our generation have lists of toys that are now considered treacherous for our children?

I am not advocating we through all children safety laws out the window. Those rules are there for a reason, and do protect us in so many ways.  I don't think we should give babies magnetic beads, and I don't think we should allow the Chinese to paint every toy with lead filled paint.  I doubt I will be giving my ten year free reign with his BB gun as my father was allowed. 

Instead, I will not squelch my husband's desire to share his childhood with our children.  I will turn the other way while the war wages between the knights and the evil princesses.  I will say an extra prayer for protection.  I will join my children in the joys of childhood, and try to cling to these memories.

 If you look very closely, you will see evidence of our first injury.  I have already questioned my newfound resolve.