Encouraging Words

As I have eluded to before, my home is not what I want it to be.  My relationship with the children has been rocky for years and I am striving to change that, each and everyday.  How?  Through doing, through being pleasant, through encouragement and by learning from others.

A few weeks ago I picked up a book from the library called Simplicity Parenting, by Kim John Payne.  I haven't read very much, because every few pages I find something that makes stop and ponder.  The first day, it was this:

"Even if some of the details were unrealistic, your dreams about your family had truth to them.  They had meaning, and still do.  They show what you valued most when you began this huge undertaking, this family-building.  What inspired you then can inspire you still.  It has to; families need fresh infusions of hope and imagination. ..." (pg 15)

That paragraph gave me the freedom to dream again. And not just to dream, but to begin implementing those dreams.  Striving for their reality.

Between remodeling and implementing, I didn't take time to read more than a paragraph or two at a time until the other day when I was sitting in a waiting room...  I love waiting rooms.  It is okay to take time for anything quiet -- even if it is browsing a woman's magazine,  because the soul purpose for being there is to wait!

The next thing that really stood out to me was this:

"In terms of areas to change I usually see two categories: what is important, and what is doable.  What seems the most important is usually not; what is most doable is the place to begin.  If you do enough that is doable, you will get to the important, and your motivation will be fueled by your success." (pg 18)

Maybe it is just because he is speaking my language: do, create, begin, success, know, and it echoes what I have been living; or maybe it is because it confirmation that what I am doing is best, this caused me to relax.  Everywhere I turn, there is someone to tell me what is 'important'.  Some of it I can agree with, but most of it just seems like business to me.  And I hate to be busy!  Doing is one thing.  Busy is another.  Doing, in my mind equates creating, whether it is an atmosphere or an object.  Busy equates stress and objects over people.  I won't live like that.

"Somehow parents know where to begin to create the necessary space--in their intentions and their lives--for a transformation." (pg 19)

This reminded me of the Dragon Scroll in Kung Fu Panda.  It was blank.  The 'secret ingredient' was nothing.  Nothing.  There is no secret.  Somehow... Parents... Know...

"So, with a few large baskets, we had culled Marie's toys way down.  The remaining toys were a mix of favorites, the simpler the better: dolls, building toys, cherished bedtime toys, some kitchen things and balls.
...
We didn't just take away toys, we carefully added some.  In one of the baskets we put a stack of brightly colored fabric pieces, some rope, and clothespins.  We also made sure Marie had a table her size, a large drawing pad, and a box of crayons."  (pg 21)

Simplifying is not just about getting rid of things, it is about getting what inspires.  It is a balance.  With that, my sons dentist appointment was over, and it was time to move on.

Our next stop was a sporting good store, where Mr.Muscles wanted to buy some weights.  He says ten pounds in each hand just isn't enough...  Go figure.  The layout of the store had changed since the last time we were there, leaving us to circle the whole thing.  As we were nearing the shoe section (no, I didn't buy anything), I saw a thin lady jogging up and down the isle.  I thought, 'Wow.  She must be serious about her running.'

As we passed by, she stopped me.  "Five boys?  How do you do it?  My two are in the car with their Grandma, so I could shop in peace.  I need running shoes to keep up with them.  I've had so many breakdowns, because they just won't listen to me. What do you do?"

I have to tell you, at that moment, I felt like the worst person on earth to be giving advise.  I have been nit-picking the problems in my family... It never occurred to me that five boys walking calmly through a store could be encouraging to someone.  ...but I told her what I have been doing, which is practicing the behavior and attitudes I want with the children everyday.  Encouraging them and loving them for who they are.

As we walked away, Goose said to me, "I thought we were the worst behaved kids on the planet!" *snickering* "And her kids are worst!"  *self satisfied grin*

I am so glad my kiddos don't know what 'bad' is -- they might just try to achieve it!

When we were done shopping, we went to visit Manny, out at the Moose Visitor Center, where he has been working.  He wanted to show us the heating system that he has been wiring, and I have to say that it is really something!  It is amazing what computer controls and technology can do for efficiency.  We made quite a scene -- five kids and their momma, in hard-hats, trooping around a construction site -- which generated a number of wistful looks.  I knew many of the men were from out of town, so I didn't think too much about it, until Manny came home that evening.

He came in, gathered the boys in his arms, and said, "I realized today that not only do I have one of the best jobs out there, I have the best family.  Most of those men you met today have been divorced three times.  Their children are in different states, and mine are all right here, with me.  I get to enjoy each and everyone of you when I come home.  I also have the prettiest wife."

I jokingly asked him if he had met all of their wives.  He responded, "Most of them are divorced and don't plan to ever marry again.  You've been with me through it all."

...it is good to realize how blessed we are...

The Grand Tetons, as seen from the Moose Visitor Center.

Going Blue

A couple years ago, my sister and her husband found a house in their area that had sat empty for 20 years.  It was a 1928 kit home, in nearly original condition.  Sure, sitting empty for 20 years hadn't helped the roof, so there was some damage, but overall, one could see what it had been.  The rich colors of paint on the walls, the quirky flooring, the porch swing, the woodwork... it was all intact.  

The original screen door of a 1928 kit home.

This pastel robin's egg blue screen door set the tone for what was to come.  A very classic color, soothing and inviting.

When I began my remodel, I decided that this color must be used somewhere.  One of my goals in remodeling is to bring in an old country farm house feel...

Something reminisce of the home described in Farmer Boy, or the 1850's mansion I was in, in Bala Cynwyd,  Pennsylvania, or the Victorian style farm house I grew up in (before my grandma and her hammer tried to modernize it by beating off all of the trim!  Damn the '60s.)

I remember when my dad was doing some remodeling, finding the original rose embossed wallpaper in the kitchen, and thinking it was just the most beautiful stuff ever.

Now, I can't quite imagine pink roses all over my kitchen, but then, I'm a little afraid of wallpaper in the kitchen.  With all the canning I do, I have a feeling all the steam would cause it to fall right off.

But back to the blue...  I had to find just the right place to use it, where it wouldn't be too much and where it wouldn't get lost in the shuffle.  I finally decided my kitchen ceiling would be the best place.

My new blue ceiling!

Blue ceilings have long intrigued me.  From what I have read, blue was the first color of paint to be used on ceilings, mimicking the sky.  And I think there is a reason the sky is blue on a clear day.  A reason beyond particles and wave lengths.  A reason that involves happiness, just like sunshine on clear day.

So, yesterday I took left-over paint samples a friend had given me and mixed and mixed, until I had just what I wanted.  *ahem*  Those cupboards and the dark blue walls are going to go.  Their time is up.

Willing to Lose

They say you can't steal second, with your foot on first, and of course, they are right.  But lately I have been wondering if one can do anything without risking something.  Just think about it for a moment.  When you walk, what must you do to go forward?  That's right, you have to get off balance and then you have to fall.  If you are never off balance, you will only shuffle along, and unless you are dancing, who wants to shuffle?

For the past 10 months, I have been working at making some major changes in my life.  At first, it was a sorting process.  Deciding what to keep and what to let go of.  Then it became a question of, what do I really want?  What is worth fighting for and what is not?  But answering those questions was not enough.

I finally had to face the crux.  What is most important?  If I only accomplish one thing in this life, what do I want it to be?  And then, I made the hardest decision of my life.  I chose my children over my marriage.

Growing up, all through college and for the first dozen years of my marriage, I swore I would never be one of those women who put her children above her husband.  But when I looked at what was most important in life, I saw that the well being of these little people who depended on me mattered more than anything else I could do.  The men they grew to be was more important my happiness.

It was in March when I realized this.  And it took me about another month to decide I was willing to move forward.  A month of wondering, 'If I do what I think is best, will I destroy my marriage?'

I had spent 12 years doing my best to follow my husband's leading, but it had left me more lost than ever.  It had left him lost too.  One evening in April, he came to me and said, "I've been married to you for a dozen years, and what do I have to show for it?  Our lives are a mess.  Our children are a mess.  Our home is a mess.  What are we doing?  We can't go on like this."

It was then I realized that if I didn't do something, my marriage and my children would be lost.  So I stepped out.  Not in a bad way, but in a bold way.  I told him up front that I was going to do things my way and that I did not want his input, furthermore, I was going to revert to the ideals I had at 17--at least back then I knew what I wanted out of life!

He, of course, wasn't too sure about all of this.  We had met when I was 17, and was a bit of a wild child--for his taste.  But I did my best to recall that girl I use to be, and to move on with the knowledge I had once had of child raising and being small.

The next month was one of the best months I had ever had.  I accomplished things without criticism.  I interacted with my children the way I had longed to for years.  My confidence grew with each string I tied with my children.  I felt like our home was finally going to be the happy place I longed for it to be.  Procrastination and fear were ever present--they had been my companions for year, and old habits are hard to shake--but things were improving. 

Then, shortly after our thirteenth anniversary, in May, it all came crashing down.  I made the mistake of telling my husband how happy I was.  His response?  "I've been biting my tongue for a month, and you're finally happy?"

Ouch.

It wasn't meant to be an insult.  Just a progress report.  The fight went from bad to worse, until I felt like the most worthless human being on the face of this planet. 

That night, I talked to a friend online.  He is older and divorced.  He kept insisting, "You don't love your husband.  I know what you are going through.  I was in the same place you are when I was your age."

I kept insisting that he was wrong, that I did love my husband.  I didn't know what else to do.  My marriage was (and is) the most important relationship in my life, but I also knew I was willing to give it up for the sake of my children, if that is what it took to grow them into productive adults.  I had to wonder if he was right...

This song, Same Old Lang Syne, made me wonder more...

"She would have liked to say she loved the man, but she didn't like to lie."

 It really weighed on me.  Was I just fooling myself, when I said I loved him?  Was it simply habit or sentiment that made me think that way?

After our fight, he went back to biting his tongue and I went on with my scheme, wondering if we were going to make it or not.  After a couple more months, I had a very vivid day dream that put everything in perspective for me.

It was of our family on a mountain road, heading for Pinedale.  My husband was running ahead, exploring every side trail.  I was following along, herding the children along the path.  Every now and then, my husband would reappear, to tell me of things that were ahead.  He would make all kinds of suggestions of 'fun things' I could do with the kids... but doing them was never fun.
There were lots of bad attitudes amongst the children, and my attitude was one of drudgery.  I don't mind mountain trails, with my love, but I do mind walking them alone, or worse yet, with five grumpy children.  I hated setting up camp every evening, knowing that it would just be torn down the next morning, just to do the same thing over again.  I kept thinking of the vehicle parked at the trail head, and my well marked map showing the route to Pinedale.
Finally, enough was enough.  I told hubby, "You have fun taking this route, and don't worry about us.  We'll meet you there."  Then I left him the supplies he would need and took the children back to the vehicle.  I pulled out my map and made my plans, then took off driving.   Traveling a road I was confident in.

I knew my husband and I had the same goals a dreams when we got married, but somehow we had gotten terribly off track.  He said I was impossible to lead.  I said he was impossible to follow.  Traveling the way each of us knew best made sense to me.  So we may not always be together?  It wasn't like we were together before.  And his concern for the children was as great as mine.

The question of love still bothered me though.  So what if we could give our children a great life, if we really didn't love each other?

As I was contemplating this, a song from Fiddler on the Roof came to mind:



Tevye asks his wife if she loves him.  She answers very practically.

"Do I love you?
For twenty-five years I've washed your clothes
Cooked your meals, cleaned your house
Given you children, milked the cow
After twenty-five years, why talk about love right now?
. . .
Do I love him?
For twenty-five years I've lived with him
Fought him, starved with him
Twenty-five years my bed is his
If that's not love, what is?"

I realized that arranged marriages did and do work, because there was a commitment to treat the other person right.  And I knew my husband and I had that commitment.   

Maybe we weren't in love.  Maybe things weren't perfect.  It didn't mean we couldn't make the most of what we had.  It had been several months since our fight that left me feeling worthless, and in that time I had been able to observe that though we had problems, we had good things too.  I decided right then and there to make the good things great, make the mediocre things good and ignore the rest for as long as possible.  So what if we couldn't carry on a normal conversation.  Is talking really that important?

And you know what?  It made a difference.  As I worked to make the good things great, he fell more and more in love with me.   His feelings changed, and with it, his outlook.

With every step I have accomplished in remodeling the kitchen, he has realized how little he understood me.  Even with pictures torn form magazines, drawings and dimensional plans, he hadn't caught the vision.  What I have produced (which is exactly what I wanted) was not at all what he had envisioned.  Furthermore, he loves what I am doing.  For months, before I began, he did his best to convince me that I would hate the finished product and tried to talk me into giving the idea up.  Now he is glad I didn't.

Things are not perfect, and they never will be, but as of now, I'm standing on second.  I had to let go of first in order to gain it.  For a while, I thought I might lose it all, but with this gain, I have realized that doing nothing is like planning to lose.  You can't win a game while playing it safe.  With every move you make, you have to be willing to give up stability in order to move forward.  And falling doesn't mean failing.  Sometimes, it is just motion.  When I clung to my marriage with everything I had, I almost destroyed it.  When I let go and let be, things came together.

~*~*~*~*~*~

As I was writing this up, hubby came to tell me goodnight.  He said, "I love you.  I am so glad you are getting the confidence you need."

And you know what?  Those weren't empty words.  And I love him too.

Something White an' Fluffy

I hate it when I have a picture in my mind of what something I want, but can't find anywhere (at least not for sale).  So, when I went looking for a little fitted white cardigan, I should have known no one would be selling them... even if I was willing to compromise on the exact style.  Which led to plan B. 

Make it.

Sure. 
Why not. 
I know what I want. 
I know how to knit. 
Now, to find a pattern I like... or not...
Plan C. 
Make the pattern and the cardigan. 
So, inch by inch, row by row, I'm watching my sweater grow. 

Left front, right front and back are complete.  Two sleeves to go... then finishing touches.  So far, it is just what I had envisioned.  Hopefully, when completed, it fits right.

Progress...

My kitchen counter is finally getting done!  Seeing as I have been without a kitchen sink for two weeks, this is very exciting.

Why two weeks?  Because I am slow.  I do something, step back, look at it, and decide if it what I want before moving on.  Then, there was one error in my planning.  An error of 3/4", that put my sink off center... until I changed the plans, which meant redesigning one cupboard. 

My friend Heather says I think too much.  She comes up with an idea and does it.  One morning she decided to pain her laundry room.  She pulled out her swatches, found a color she likes and 15 minutes later was on her way to the store.  An hour later she was home and painting.  That afternoon, while the paint dried, she made a stencil of a picket fence and that evening stenciled it.  When she moved out two years later, behind the door still was not painted and the edges still where not trimmed, but she had picket fence with flowers.

Yeah.  The perfectionist in me would have screamed bloody murder over that, had it been my house.  I would have chose my color, bought a sample and lived with it for at least two weeks, to make sure it was what I wanted.  That's why her house was prettier--just don't look behind the door!

So, my sink will be perfectly centered under the window and every inch of my cupboards tailor made for my home, even if it did take me ten days longer than it should have!  In fact, if I go now, I should be able to have Hubby help me set in the sink tonight and hook up all the plumbing... if it doesn't happen tonight, it will be Saturday before he has time.

Change is Good

Says it feels right this time,
Turned it 'round and found the right line.  --No Leaf Clover

Sometimes, finding the right words to describe something changes everything.  Understanding.

This happened to me recently.  I found a way to describe my behavior in certain relationships--ones that were not going well--that made everything clear to me.  It also instantly gave me the tools I needed to make those relationships what I wanted them to be... Or rather to see that they were already what I wanted them to be.

What were those magical words?  For me, they were, "You're relating like a roger."
...and I am a clark.

I know.  That doesn't make a lot of sense does it?  A month or so ago, it wouldn't have made any sense to me either, but God brought some people into my life who have created a personality system known as the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers).

I didn't pay any attention the first time I saw it, so God brought it to me a second time, through another route.  He is good.  His ways are mysterious, and He will use anyone or anything to teach us what we need to know.

What those words told me is this:

• I was approaching the relationships emotionally, not practically. 
• I was seeking rules to make them work, instead of going with the flow.  

You see, rogers are herd creatures, but a herd of two does not work.
Being a farm-girl, I have seen this first hand, many times.  One must have at least three horses to have a herd.  Two horses fight--constantly.  It may be very subtly, but there is always tension.  Plus, two horses can not handle there being any distance between them.  They will be grazing side by side, and one will begin to wander away.  The other horse will run to catch up as soon as they notice the distance.  Three or more horses, on the other hand, will graze over a wide area, content to be part of the group.

While it is comical to watch, it is not fun to be a part of.  If you listen to people, rogers are the ones who will talk of their 'circle of friends' and assume that everyone has a 'circle'.

I don't have 'circles'.  I have friends.  Some of my friends know each other.  Some of my friends like each other.  We still don't have a circle.  Neither do we have a pack--that would be scotts.

So, when I approached the friendship like a roger, I acted like a horse (or maybe a jack-ass).  I couldn't stand for there to be any distance, since there was only two of us in my little 'herd'.   I fought to keep up and always be in alignment (agreement) with the other person.

Eww.  Yuck.  I'd have trouble with me too.

And to make matters worse, I had three different friendships/relationships I was approaching this way...
Once I realized what I was doing, I was able to step back and see how my behavior was causing most of the problems I have been striving to solve for the better part of a year.
The problem (the distance I felt) was not in the relationships, but in me.  Things are just fine--in fact some relationships are better than I ever imagined they could be, but I needed a dose of reality to see that.

I am at peace.  The first leg of my journey has been completed.   

. . .

“Remember there's no such thing as a small act of kindness. Every act creates a ripple with no logical end.”  --Scott Adams

Dreaming Again

I have this dream of what homeschooling will be like.

• I see children gathered around a dining room table, fully engaged in what they are learning.  I see each one working or observing to the fullest of their ability.
• I hear lots of discussion when there is a hands-on project at hand and silence when their is individual work to be done.
• I see children striving for excellence in their work, who are proud of what they have accomplished.

I want our days to be full of many activities, so that they get to experience many things.  I want to give them a taste for many things while they are young and help them to expand their horizons... because how do you know if you like something if you have never tried it?

I want most of our school to be hands-on, while not neglecting the necessary subjects.

Most of all, I want a warm, loving environment, where each child knows they are valued for who they are.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
While dreaming of what I wanted most to see in our home, I came across this article, which I found very encouraging:  http://www.joshharris.com/2011/09/homeschool_blindspots.php 

Picture from:  http://education.more4kids.info/78/children-and-the-arts/

I.

"Get that rope back inside and shut the window!"

Hope

But the night fades away,
And gives way to the day,
For what else is,
The night to do?

Night time cannot last forever.  No matter how dark the moment seems, there is always hope.



Dreams We Conceive by Tran-Siberian Orchestra
Written by

In a city
After midnight
Neath the halo
Of a street light
Where the dreams die
As the blood dries
On the wounds we keep hidden from
View

In the safety
Of this darkness
As it hides all
Time has tarnished
The forbidden
Unforgiven
Are we secure here where no-one
Pursues

But the night fades away
And gives way to the day
For what else is the night to do
As the dark steps aside
With the hopes we confide
And never believes
That the dreams we conceived
Would ever
Not ever come true

Is life different
After midnight
With its new dawn
And its new light
Inconsistent
And indifferent
To the things
We were so sure we knew

As you stood there
In the night air
With such beauty
That the stars stared
From their distance
You were different
Like a dream
That no-one could refuse

But the night fades away
And gives way to the day
For what else is
The night to do
As the dark steps aside
With the hopes we confide
And never believes
That the dreams we conceived
Would ever
Not ever come true

As you stand all
Alone at your station
What if God doesn't
Know where you are
As you send out your
Prayers for salvation
But afraid that
They don't go that far

So you wait all
Alone in your darkness
There's a train that drives on
Through the night
And if everyone's
On it except us
Would it return for
That single life

In a city
After midnight
Neath the halo
Of a street light

1

One is a message...

And today I received a message I had been waiting for. 

Beginnings...

Yesterday was the worst day of school ever!  It was only our second day, and all of my high hopes came crashing down around me.

I had hoped the kids could pick up where they left off last year, that very little was forgotten over the summer... And they did--attitude wise.  Within moments of pulling out the school books there was fussing and crying, bickering and fighting.

At first, I tried to remain calm, thinking that if my attitude was correct, theirs would follow.  But after an hour or two, I lost it.  Broke down crying.  I was at a total loss and didn't know what else to do.  This got the kids attention, and my oldest came crying to apologize.  The others looked on, a bit lost themselves, at my outburst.

When my husband came home, I told him how the day had gone, and he said the words I had been dreading.  "Maybe public school would be better for them, even for a short while."

I know he may be right.  I was thinking the same thing all day.  The way my children are behaving is one of the things I greatly dislike about homeschooling:  Because Mom is the teacher, it is 'okay' to pout, whine and fuss whenever you are told to do something you don't want to do.  There is none of the peer pressure to conform or hold up emotionally.  They don't like something?  They throw a fit.

I know my children are not alone in this.  It is one of the inherent problems of homeschooling.

So, what to do?  I prayed, and talked to each of my children individually.  We talked about attitude, and how it controls the way one views life.  How the most fun things can be boring, if one is bent on complaining, and how trying times can be fun, if one faces them with a good attitude.

Consequently, today was much better!  The kids are loving Animal Farm and are filled with questions as to the why of things.

• Why are the pigs taking the best things for themselves?
• What happened to the puppies?
• What does this have to do with government?

When it came time for book learning, they started to pout, but then remembered our talks and forced smiles.  The little ones, who have never been in school before, couldn't wait to have their first reading lesson (which they had been denied yesterday), so I had Mr.Muscles teach Goose how to divide while iBoy worked independently and I taught them.

Cuggles and BakerBoy

They were so excited to learn that after tackling the letter A we went on to learn the letter T.  Cuggles was a bit overwhelmed at that point, but refused to quit.  Meanwhile, BakerBoy was begging for more, which he got, in the form of workbooks!

Thank God for a better day!!!  
To go forward as we had been or to send them to public school--both choices just felt wrong.*

I am praying for an equally good day tomorrow, and the next day and the next... for the rest of the year.



*This is not intended as a put-down towards public education.  The public schools in my area are excellent, with many wonderful teachers.

Those Who Wander

"Not all who wander are lost." --J.R.R. Tolkien

Life is a Highway by Chris Ledoux
Written by

Life's like a road that you travel on
When there's one day here and the next day gone
Sometimes you bend, sometimes you stand
Sometimes you turn your back to the wind
There's a world outside every darkened door
Where blues won't haunt you anymore
Where the brave are free and lovers soar
Come ride with me to the distant shore
We won't hesitate, break down the garden gate
There's not much time left today

CHORUS:
Life is a highway
I want to ride it all night long
If you're going my way
I want to drive it all night long

Through all these cities and all these towns
It's in my blood and it's all around
I love you now like I loved you then
This is the road and these are the hands
From Tennessee to those L.A nights
San Anton to the Vegas lights
Knock me down get back up again
You're in my blood I'm not a lonely man

There's no load I can't hold
Road so rough, this I know
I'll be there when the lights comes in
Tell 'em we're survivors

CHORUS x2

There was a distance between you and I
A misunderstanding once but now
We look it in the eye

There's no load I can't hold
Road so rough this I know
I'll be there when the light comes in
Tell 'em we're survivors

CHORUS x3