Difficult Conversations

Photo found on Pinterest via andruloyd.tumblr.com

This is one of my favorite Anne of Green Gables quotes. One that hopes to get it right tomorrow.

 

This week we have had an unusual number of difficult conversations with our kids.

I needed to ask forgiveness (and received it) when I blew it in a surge of PMS anger and frustration when one son fought me over whether or not he could wear shorts in freezing weather. His argument was that he would be indoors at the gym most of the evening at church and wanted to wear shorts for game time. This was logical. However, he wasn't wearing gym shorts. He was wearing the type of shorts that often shread in half during game time. I was tired of ruined clothes. I was tired of him refusing to wear a team T-shirt that he felt was too snug. I was tired of hard-headed, argumentative children who debate logically instead of comply with my parental wisdom and wishes. I was tired of battling my tween daughters who either have so much homework (or so little time management skills) that they were not prepared (again) to attend Wednesday night youth group. And, to intensify the drama, we were having this heated conversation moments before we needed to leave. "Fine!" I swore. Not only in front of my son. But at my son. Shameful. I tore the contested T-shirt off of him, deferred to his choice of shorts, threw him a hoodie, and we stormed to the car and drove off in a huff.

Ironically, and somewhat comically, as we were on the way to church we were reviewing the Bible verses the kids were to have memorized. Romans 3:23 was on the list. "For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God". I had just given them an excellent sermon illustration, as well as opening a discussion on how even angels are capable of sin since 1/3 of heaven fell to pride. God redeemed the heated trying-to-get-out- the-door-moment and used it for good. He pointed them back to Himself. We got a new team T-shirt in a bigger size to ward off next week's battles. All was not lost. They saw their mother explode. They also heard her ask their forgiveness and gave it...with the condition that they be extended the same grace if they were to blow it anytime in the near future. (Darn smart kids.)

A few hours later, walking back out of the church through the freezing parking lot, I observed that my laid-back friend's child had on shorts and a t-shirt on and neither he or she didn't seem the least bit bothered. Come to think of it, her kids run around on the pavement barefooted on frigid New Year's Eve and she doesn't even bat an eyelash. I made a mental note to try and become less tightly-wound and more laid-back.

More grave issues were at hand. Another afternoon I asked my older children if they knew what cutting was and were they aware that five eight graders in my child's middle school academic magnet suffer from the desire to self-mutilate. We sat at our kitchen table and talked about stress, and depression, and bi-polarity, and drug addiction, and alcoholism, and suicide. They soberly understood that another seventh grade child had chosen to take his life at a nearby middle school last week. When I asked my son if he understood why we were having these conversations he replied, "Yes, but I don't think anything like that will ever happen in our family." I told him that I prayed that it wouldn't, but wanted our conversations to be open and honest and to be vigilant as a family should any warning signs appear.

This hymn echoes my desire to lead my family well.

"Lord, speak to me, that I may speak in living echoes of Thy tone...

O lead me, Lord, that I may lead .... O feed me, Lord, that I may feed Thy hung'ring ones with manna sweet.

O teach me, Lord, that I may teach the precious things Thou dost impart; And wing my words, that they may reach the hidden depths of many a heart.

O fill me with Thy fullness, Lord, until my very heart o'erflow

O use me, Lord, use even me, just as Thou wilt, and when, and where; Until Thy blessed face I see, Thy rest, Thy joy, Thy glory share.

Frances Ridley Havergal (1836-79)

 

Pancakes for breakfast = love

http://psweadoreyou.blogspot.com/2013/04/prints-for-brielle.html

 

This graphic design pinned from Pinterest made me smile. We have been experimenting with healthy foods and have come across a Thin Healthy Mama recipe made from cottage cheese and oat flour that we like. This is not just about getting breakfast on the table. This is a small victory in the land of Franken-foods and concoctions made from xanthan gum, flaxseed, and stevia. This is true love spoken in action.

For the littles it was heart-shaped bacon, heart-shaped cinnamon rolls, lunchables (which we never buy), pink milk and all things chocolate. Many thanks all ye pinners on Pinterest. You inspire me.

An outing scheduled to shoot bows and arrows for my cupids (thanks, Groupon) and an individual wish from each kid: one wanted an infusion water bottle, one wanted to see the new Lego movie, one wanted a new lunch box, and two wanted their own chargers. And a card and a chocolate from Daddy, from an earlier stop by CVS. He tells me many great men shop at CVS on their way home from work, and especially great men do so a few days in advance in case there is an ice storm and an earthquake!

We finished the day family-style. Mom came over for salmon and enormous strawberries dipped in Ghirardelli chocolate. Mmmmm. The kids stayed up and experienced the earthquake, but I slept right through it with sweet dreams.

 

Another day at home

Baby Olaf is going to be a "happy snowman" tomorrow. There was no room for him in the freezer. Too many bags of berries and salmon filets in there.

The skylights on "my yoga studio". I practiced Barre 3 and Zumba techniques while the rest of my family tried out the sledding conditions. I loved having time to hone my craft.

My extroverted man couldn't stand another full day at home, so he volunteered to brave the icy roads and pick up the groceries. He came home with a great many of the items and only commented, "Never again!"

I was content to stay in so long as my people were settled. I like being involved in all the things that make up our lives, but I also love to stay right where I am and get my ducks in a row. I have a strong need to grow, learn, and improve, and it's hard to improve when most of your time is replacing toilet paper rolls or trying to remember to eat up the leftovers before they turn slimy in the back of the fridge.

When I have the opportunity to be at home all day and not running around in carpool circles, I am often more tired than on a regular day. My learn-something, tidy-something, make progress genes come alive and I am a hurricane in my own house, bustling about from project to project. I suddenly notice the mildew on the back porch or the dust on the air vents. Cabinets that I haven't opened in six years suddenly call for organization and purging. I'm not sure why. I wonder if I will hustle and bustle around like this when I am sixty and my children have moved on. Is it a stage of life, or personality at work here? Hmm. Part of me cautions, "Isn't this when we should all be playing a board game together around the kitchen table?" And then I think, "Why mess up a good thing? Kids are happy. Mama's happy. They don't need you to entertain them right now. Get some work done while you can." Hooray for the apple t.v. upstairs so that I can live in my quiet bubble a little longer down below.

Some of my projects are truly work. But, some are just quirky compulsions. Like the journal I have expressly for recording interesting words. I have no idea what makes me want to write them down. I started as a kid jotting down colorful phrases my pastor would use in his sermons. I can't even listen to an audiobook while driving without jotting (without looking!) useful phrases on the clipboard that lives between the front seats of my minivan. I like to save words in case I ever have a chance to use them. Sounds crazy (even to me). Then someone comes along and makes a study and I feel better about my idiosyncrasies. Maybe they're not all that odd. Maybe, there's even a subtle advantage to being wired a little quirkier than many?

 

This article came to my inbox today. It helps explain introversion to more extroverted ones. If you have a moment, pop over and see what you think.

Love for quiet in a noisy world. Down time with tea and a stack of magazines sounds like a great evening. Married to an extrovert. Writer. Love for thought-provoking books and movies. Attention to detail. Would rather give a talk to a crowd of 500 than make small talk at a cocktail party about nothing important. Sounds like home.

 

http://huff.to/1d2j6xt

The Huffington Post | By Carolyn Gregoire

Posted: 08/20/2013 8:36 am EDT | Updated: 09/23/2013 12:31 pm EDT

Ice, ice baby

The more it snows (Tiddely-Pom)

The more it goes (Tiddely-Pom)

The more it goes on snowing (Tiddely-Pom)

And nobody knows (Tiddely-Pom)

How cold my toes (Tiddely-Pom)

How cold my toes are growing (Tiddely-Pom Tiddely-Pom Tiddely-Pom Tiddely-Pom)

The More It Snows (Tiddely-Pom) A.A. Milne in the book The House at Pooh Corner

February brought another wintry storm- a mix of ice and snow this time. I delighted in watching it fall in blustery gusts pit-patting outside my cozy window. I stayed in stretchy leggings, fuzzy grippy socks, and a baggy long-sleeved T-shirt most of the day, researching fresh material for my Pilates classes. Did little barre workouts at the kitchen and bathroom counters since I was already dressed in slidy socks for the occasion. Felt accomplished although the scale has not moved a millimeter (for me) in all the recent healthy choices. It moved away four pounds worth for my man. Typical.

I said a prayer of thanksgiving for the opportunity to spend a few hours with my mom yesterday before school was let out early. She lost her brother to a stroke this week, and the coffee and conversation over her kitchen table schooled me on another season of life- one spent planning funerals.

My man and I had a much-needed meetings of the minds over our two hot topics. One, his health plan. Important questions like, "If I make this, will you actually eat it?" Evaluations like, "I think the oat flour encrusted baked chicken strips are okay but need more seasoning." Balancing the tension was the dreaming and planning for our upcoming fifteenth anniversary trip. I have no need to go somewhere on Valentine's Day itself if I know a tailor-made adventure is waiting in the wings for spring. I'm patient like that. (Smiles) I jogged/walked 6 miles on the treadmill to Pride and Prejudice for another period film fix. I signed up for a fun run with a friend in March, but I keep forgetting to train. This will not be one for the records books! More watching at the window than beating feet.