Monthly Archives: November 2011
‘Happy Holidays’ and other four letter words
The cashier was pleasant and friendly. He joked around with the kids, and easily made small talk while he lovingly rang up our toothpaste and toilet paper. He carefully bagged our baubles and breakables, and he made sure to ask if we wanted the drinks we’d just grabbed from the cooler left out. He offered the three year old a sticker. He smiled amiably while he handed me my cash register receipt, and he told me to come again.
And then, he said it.
The thing that would cause me to roll my eyes and hurry home to write the store a scathing letter detailing exactly why I would be hereby boycotting their store forever.
He said, “Happy Holidays.”
In front of my children. How dare he say such a thing to me? How dare he try to take the Christ out of my Christmas? What is the matter with our stores, and our society, today?? I felt so offended and disrespected that I couldn’t even utter a word. I angrily snatched the receipt from his hand. I gathered the kids as quickly as I could, grabbed my groceries, and hightailed it out of there. I vowed never to return again.
* * * * * * * * * *
No. What I actually did was smile – sincerely – and thank him. I wished him a happy holiday as well. I got my groceries, counted my kids, and went about the rest of the day…. feeling good about a friendly and positive interaction with a kind stranger.
To be clear, I celebrate Christmas. I have celebrated Christmas all of my life. I love Christmas. But it doesn’t even begin to bother me when somebody – be it a person or a website or a store – says Happy Holidays instead of Merry Christmas. For that matter, it wouldn’t bother me if someone mistakenly thought I was Jewish and wished me a Happy Hannukah. Why? To begin with, I take it for nothing more than it is: a hopefully sincere and friendly good wish from one person to another. They’re showing me a kindness and they’re wishing me happiness. Which really, is supposed to be the whole point of the season (and for the whole year, if we’re living the way we should aspire to be living)
More than that though, is the fact that nothing anyone else says can take away MY meaning of the holiday. Nothing anyone else says will change what I believe. Nothing anyone else says will damage my own personal walk as a Christian. “Happy Holiday” wishers are not – as so many believe – “taking the Christ out of Christmas.” The only one who can take my Christ out of my Christmas is me.
Let me say that again, rephrased:
The only one who can take your Christ out of your Christmas is you.
How do you take Christ out of Christmas? You take Christ out of Christmas every time you:
Don’t take the high road.
Are less than loving, and patient, and kind.
Gossip, complain about, and judge others.
Are slow to listen and quick to anger.
And yes…. grump and moan and cry about everyone taking Christ out of Christmas, instead of simply showing the people kindness and goodwill and grace, and letting them see through your actions that Christ cannot be taken out of your Christmas because Christ is living in you. No one can take that away from you, no matter what they believe or what they celebrate or WHY they celebrate.
And if you’re going to split hairs about who should and should not celebrate Christmas, it’s worth noting that 1) Jesus was most likely NOT born on December 25th, and 2) most of what we all do at Christmas time – even as Christians – are things we borrowed and adapted from pagan traditions, not the other way around.
Every year I hear more and more people complaining about what’s become of Christmas, how commercialized it is, how far it’s gotten from its true roots…. which very well may be true, but is making a big stink about it really the answer? If, like me, you believe in Jesus and His birth, then simply live it.
If you believe in having a simple Christmas, then have a simple Christmas. If you believe in giving, then give. If you believe in kindness, be kind. If you believe in boycotting big businesses and Black Friday sales and midnight deals, then by all means, stay home.
But don’t forget that “What you do speaks so loudly I cannot hear what you say.” (Emerson)
Just a couple of hours ago, I saw a Facebook photo of a group of tents set up and camped out at the entrance to a Walmart, waiting for the Black Friday sales. One of the commenters said, “People like that are nothing more than disgusting, materialistic losers.” That there is some real holiday spirit. Now I can think of about 7,253 things I’d rather do than camp out in front of a Walmart (or in line for a Twilight movie opening) but you know what? If that’s your thing, I love you just the same. I happen to think that the world is big enough for all of us, with all our beliefs and our differences and our traditions and our celebrations.
The best thing I can do to honor my God and my beliefs and my Christmas is to live my life the way I purport to want to live it, and not worry about what anyone else is, or is not, doing. There are actual problems in the world, and whether someone says “Merry Christmas” or “Happy Holidays” is not one of them.
And don’t get me wrong. Since you know that I celebrate Christmas, I would love and appreciate a “Merry Christmas” from any one of you. But I would love and appreciate a sincere “Happy Holidays” just as much (and the diehard Seinfeld fan in me would be ever indebted if you wished me a “Happy Festivus” while you were at it.)
The Christmas cards we send every year say “Peace, Joy, and Love” on them…. partly because that was the default greeting on the design we chose several years ago and it resonated with us, and partly because it just sums up the meaning of the season – and our lives – in three simple words.
I know it sounds trite, but I really do wish you peace, joy and love… whether you’re a believer, a non-believer, or even a Walmart parking lot camper.
Filed under about me, Christmas, holidays, perspective, religion
Nano, Thanksgiving, and a Favor
Ten days away from the end of November, which means ten days until Nano officially ends, which means ten days until I’ve actually written 50,000 words or I haven’t. Each time I’ve done it, it’s been a journey… this year perhaps more than any other. I love fiction writing. I always have. It makes me come alive, and it inspires and entertains me. This year though, I don’t know that my heart was really in it.
I had a kernel of a good story, but unfortunately it’s heavily buried under a steaming pile of cow manure. Such is the case most Novembers, but that’s sort of the point of the exercise…. to just get the story out, and worry about editing, slashing and re-writing later. This year feels different though. I’m not sure I care enough about the story to even want to finish it, let alone clean it up later.
And right now, ten days from the finish date, I’m faced with asking myself if it would be more personally liberating to just get the rest of my 14,000 words into the computer and finish what I started, OR giving myself permission to just say, “Not this year,” peacefully calling it quits right now, and appreciating the fact that I’m secure enough in myself to be okay with not finishing what I started.
In other news, I’ve spent the past 21 days working on something else as well. Every time I felt burnt out on my story, and felt like I just couldn’t write another description or narrative or bit of dialogue, I worked on outlining – and eventually writing – a pair of e-books: one on unschooling, and one on gentle parenting. I am very excited about the project, and I can’t wait to share it with you all… hopefully in early 2012.
This is where the favor comes in. One of the things I want to be sure to cover, in both books, is a good reader-friendly FAQ chapter. I’m working with several questions I’ve gotten in comments, emails, etc, but if you have one (or two or three) that’s been burning on your mind that you’ve never seen me cover, I would love to hear from you! Please feel free to either comment here, on Facebook, or send me an email. And since I’m asking for favors, I would also love it if you share my blog with others (assuming you actually read and enjoy it
). I have gotten a couple of very nice emails the past few days from new readers, and I can’t tell you how much I love to have an excuse to procrastinate on the laundry even longer connect with all of you! You guys are awesome.
And finally, Thanksgiving is in three days, and the holiday season is officially upon us. I love Thanksgiving. Love the feel, love the smells, love the food, love the laughter. Last year, we ended up having to leave early because the little one was sick, so I’m mostly wishing for health this year – says the person who has single handedly gone through an entire box of tissues in about 12 hours.
I wish you all a beautiful day on the 24th, whether it’s Thanksgiving for you or just another Thursday.
Just So You Know
Just so you know, I’m not ignoring you when I don’t answer your comment (or your email or your text) right away. I have four kids and a Mike and a house that need me. I’m not good at juggling, and sometimes the more I have to do, the more I start to slow down.
Just so you know, if you visit my house, it will be messy. I start to clean, only to hear a giant sploosh, followed by an “uh oh”, and the discovery that the 3 year old just spilled her paint rinse cup. Again. Or dumped out all 8836256 of her brother’s legoes, or smashed a cracker all over the couch, or shed her muddy clothes all over the kitchen. And that’s okay.
Just so you know, as far as I’m concerned, people trump “things” every time. Which means that if I’m faced with mopping the dirty floor and playing ring-around-the-rosy with the girl, or reading with the 7 year old, or talking “Minecraft” with the 11 year old, or watching a Nerf video with the 14 year old… the kids will win. Every time.
Just so you know, my backyard is messy too. Partly because my 6 chickens are like children to me too, and their ability to be able to roam happy and free is more important to me than tidiness…. and partly because right now, my kids need my attention more than my yard.
Just so you know, I don’t believe in putting people in boxes:
When you see my three year old screaming crying in the grocery store, please don’t assume that she is “defiant” or “manipulative” or a “drama queen.” She is passionate and enthusiastic and full of energy, and I love that about her. She is sweet and funny and loves to entertain. She is awesome.
When you realize that my seven year old is not yet reading, please don’t assume he is a “slower” learner. I can barely keep up with what he is learning on a daily basis, and he is continually amazing me with both his knowledge and his spirit. He has a huge heart and gives great hugs. He’s awesome too.
When you hear that my 11 year old is passionate about video games, please don’t assume he in any way resembles your misinformed image of a “lazy gamer.” He is intelligent and active and well-rounded, and overall one of the coolest people you’ll ever get to be around. He is awesome.
When you introduce yourself to my 14 year old, and notice that he sounds “different”, please don’t make assumptions about his intelligence or his abilities. He is smart and skillful and creative, and he has a better sense of humor than just about anyone I know. He’s the most loyal friend you could ever hope to make, and he is also one of my top 5 favorite people on the planet. And oh yes, he’s awesome.
And while I’m on the subject of assumptions:
Just so you know, I don’t fit neatly into one of those boxes either. I am a Christian who finds much of what’s cloaked in “Christian” labels abhorrent (especially when it comes to parenting). I believe in kindness to all creatures. I believe in freedom and acceptance and tolerance. I don’t raise an eyebrow at obscenities, but you’ll see me react in a big hurry if you say something disrespectful about a child, or make a racial stereotype, or a homophobic slur, or use the word “retarded” (or any of its variants) other than in the way it was intended.
Just so you know, the fact that we homeschool does not mean we’re exactly like your neighbor or your friend or your cousin who homeschools. We have our own reasons, and our own beliefs, and our own way of life.
Just so you know, you can change my mind about a whole lot of things, but not when it comes to God. Not when it comes to my kids. Not when it comes to parenting. And not when it comes to school.
Just so you know.
Filed under about me, acceptance, homeschooling, kids, parenting
Conversations with a Three Year Old, Part 637
“Mommy, how do you make love?”
The question was honest, and innocent. I absolutely believe in talking about such matters frankly, so I did what any self-respecting parent would do. I stalled.
“What do you mean, like a drawing?” I thought maybe she meant a heart. When Everett was her age he used to always (adorably) call hearts “kisses”.
“No. No. Not a drawing. I said ‘how do you make love?” She repeated it as if I were hard of hearing, and followed it up with “Like, with your body.”
“Uh…. your body?” Stalling, stalling. I’m cool, I’m calm. I can handle this.
“Yes,” She paused, and much to my relief, rephrased. “Well, no. With your hand.”
“Oh….” I wasn’t sure that was better. And then I realized. “OH! You mean this?”:
“Yes!” And I helped her make the sign with her own fingers, and she was happy. “I love you Mommy,” she told me, with both her hand and her words.
I love you too, baby. More than you’ll ever know.
Megachurch Myths
We recently started going back to church after another year-long hiatus.
I really love our church.
I say that with emphasis in part because I just honestly love it that much, and also because it is a first for me. Having gone to church nearly every Sunday for my entire life, I never went to a church that I genuinely looked forward to. Never went to a church that I felt excited about. Never went to a church that I felt compelled to share with others. Yes, there were specific people that I grew to love, and certain aspects that I enjoyed here and there… but I never truly loved a church until now (and if I’m being honest, there were churches in my past that I not only didn’t love, but that made me outright miserable) Suffice it to say, my personal church history has made me very empathetic and understanding towards those who have sworn off church altogether.
The church we attend now is a huge church. It has over 17,000 attendees over the course of its 5 weekend services. It has a sprawling campus, separate children’s and teen buildings, a rocking worship band, a bookstore, a Starbucks, a cafe, an outdoor grill… all those things that for some reason make a lot of people really really uncomfortable. Those things that make people come to a snap judgment in their head, and offer up a categorical, “Oh it’s one of those churches.” We haven’t brought anyone to church with us recently, but we have in the past. And with a few exceptions, their reactions were undeniably (and strongly) negative. Which is weird, now that I’m thinking about it, because it would never occur to me to go someone else’s church as a guest, and follow it up with anything other than a “thank you for the invitation,” let alone a critique.
A think a large part of the problem is that in many cases, people make their minds up before they even step out of the car, based on preconceived notions and often times misconceptions. We all hold these prejudices about certain things, and these so-called “megachurches” like the one we attend are seemingly high on a lot of people’s lists. They’re judged sight-unseen because they’re …. too big. Or too impersonal. Or too irreverent. Or too much like a cult. Or something. And if you go into a church – or into any new situation or circumstance – already having pre-judged it, it’s going to live up to your expectations for better or worse, every time.
The following are some of the biggest misconceptions or myths about megachurches that I hear the most often, along with my responses. I’m just asking that you keep an open mind, and if you should ever find yourself a guest of a friend or a family member at one of these churches that you enjoy it for the unique experience that it is. Remember that they have chosen to call that church home for a reason, and that they’ve chosen to invite you for a reason too (and it’s really not to bring you over to the dark side.)
1. They are impersonal.
How can you possibly make personal connections in a church with literally tens of thousands of members? You show up. You talk to people. You join small groups. You volunteer. You get involved. Even just taking the kids to their classes every week, we are starting to see the same faces, and get the same familiar greetings. The pastor is outside the auditorium every Sunday before every service, greeting members, talking to people, throwing a football with a child, just like you’ll often see happen at a smaller church. Is it possible to remain completely anonymous, go to services, and go home without having talked to a single soul? Sure (although you’d admittedly have to be pretty rude and ignore the half dozen people that say good morning to you on the way from your car to the auditorium). But it’s a choice that you are making. It’s not the fault of the church! And it shouldn’t go without saying: I have attended small churches, with maybe 30 members, and have been utterly ignored. Yes, I could have initiated conversation, but when you’re a 20-something newlywed in a mostly older congregation, it is far more hurtful and uncomfortable to feel rejected by 30 people than it is to be an anonymous member of a church of 1,000′s, where at the very least you can count on an honest and friendly “good morning,” or “good to see you” on your way inside.
2. They are irreverent.
I went to another church once where was there a huge knock-down, drag-out (not literally) over whether or not it was okay to bring tables into the room that was used for worship, so that it could also be used for pot lucks. People got so upset about it, they left the congregation. The issue? Some people felt it was irreverent to eat in a room that should be reserved for nothing but honoring God. But here’s the thing. It’s just a building. That’s true if it seats 10 or 10,000. God just wants us to come to him. He doesn’t care if we do it from a small church or a large church or a mountain top. He doesn’t care if we’re dressed in jeans or flip flops or our “Sunday best.” He doesn’t care care if we drink our overpriced Starbucks coffees while we listen to the sermon. He just cares that we showed up.
Having said all of that… The rock-style praise music that you hear at the start of the service (one of the biggest things that makes people nervous, along with the fact that people sometimes bring their coffee into the auditorium) gradually gives way to slower, more reflective songs. When it’s time for communion – which undeniably IS a time for reverence – the room is quiet, the mood is appropriately contemplative, and everyone is able to partake in the manner that he or she finds most in line with their own personal interpretation of scripture.
3. They are all flash and no substance / They focus too much on entertainment
This is an odd one to me. Yes, I enjoy the music during the first third of the service. Yes, it’s nice that they turn it into a whole “experience” with the lights and the instruments and the video screens. They have talented musicians leading the singing, and they always choose great songs with meaningful lyrics. I appreciate it. I appreciate that I’m almost always guaranteed to laugh at least once during each sermon. I also appreciate the pretty grounds, and the big expanse of lawn where all the kids play between services, and the giant cross at the top of the hill. But that’s not why I go. I go because I know I’m going to be challenged each week, every week. I know I’m going to hear a lesson that’s based not on one man’s opinion, or on tradition, but on the Bible. I know that I’m going to learn a little bit more about what it truly means to “walk the walk,” and I know that I’m going to be given a practical and applicable “take away” that’s real and relevant in my own life, right now.
Similarly,
4. They preach a watered-down, “feel good” gospel.
First, the Bible is above all else, GOOD news. If you’re going to a church that has neglected to mention that fact, then I think you’re going to the wrong church. I’m sorry, but I do. It IS good news. It’s inspiring. It’s joyful. It’s filled with grace. But that doesn’t in any way mean that all that’s taught is airy-fairy, feel-good, watered-down, spoon-fed nuggets of fluff. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever been as challenged to grow as a Christian as I’ve been since we’ve started attending this church (and granted, that may have more to do with where I am in my own personal walk. But still) Our pastor never shies away from saying the hard things. Never neglects to give us the whole truth. NEVER fails to make me think, and think hard, about why I believe what I believe, and whether or not what I’ve always thought to be true is actually biblical. It even sometimes makes me uncomfortable, in the best way, because that’s how you grow. He preaches what we need to hear, not necessarily what we always want to hear. Last Sunday, the lesson was on materialism, one that cut incredibly close to my core. We’ve been worshiping money (albeit in a weird, opposite of materialism kind of way) and it’s wrong. I don’t know that I would have fully grasped how and why it’s wrong if I hadn’t heard that particular lesson on that particular day. And while it would always be nice to live in a carefree la-la land where I can get all worked up over money all I want, I’m now facing it. Precisely because my church does NOT preach a watered-down, feel-good gospel.
And speaking of money,
5. They cost too much money to operate / They must carry a lot of debt / They are wasteful of God’s resources.
I’ll admit, this one really, really bothers me. For many reasons. For one thing, the pastor of our church never set out to create this huge Super Church. That wasn’t his goal. He was simply heeding a personal call to evangelize. When he started this church in 1982, it met in a movie theater. As it naturally and organically grew, and they needed more and more seats, they began meeting in an elementary school, and subsequently rented other buildings until they were finally able to secure their own land and build their own building. As the church continues to grow, any time a need arises for new space or new buildings, the members all contribute their funds to make it happen. When we first started going, they were taking donations for the children’s building that our three youngest so enjoy every week. In fact we all got to write on the floor before the carpet was laid, as a dedication (which was pretty stinkin cool) The church is growing and expanding so much that they now have two campuses, and have helped start 11 other various churches as well.
When you consider that as Christians we’re supposed to be winning people for Christ, I have a hard time viewing it as anything but a GOOD thing that this church has grown to the size that it has. Churches are supposed to grow!! People are supposed to be getting out into their communities and ministering to people in need. People are supposed to be inviting their friends and family to church with them. I personally wonder more about the churches that don’t grow. The ones that struggle just to maintain their current membership year after year.
Oh, but the money!! The electricity, the lights, the water, the paper! Oh the waste! That money could be ministering to needy people in other countries.
Well, yeah, it could. And while I can’t speak for other churches of this size, the church that we attend is actually quite heavily involved in overseas missions. But the fact remains that this church is ministering to tens of thousands of people RIGHT HERE, who are then going out in to the community and ministering to tens of thousands more. That is no small thing!! Does it cost money to do it? Of course! And there are lots of people willing to step up and share that burden (or blessing, as the case may be)
6. They are churches of “convenience.”
The first time I heard this, it was in reference to the fact that there were 5 identical weekend services (although at the time there might have been only 4) But I’ve heard it in other ways too: The fact that you can go to the cafe and eat your lunch while you listen to the sermon on the big screen. The fact that the outdoor grill seating area has the Sunday morning ball games playing on its many TVs. The fact that you can sit in your PJs from the comfort of your home, and watch the video version of any sermon you happened to miss. In essence, we’re back to the spoon-fed, no-effort-on-your-part assertions from #4. Here’s my problem with that: If you’re going to minister to 17,000 people, you’re going to need to schedule different times to fit them all in. That’s not a matter of “convenience” but of practicality. Having two services on Saturday and three on Sunday gives people options, and allows them the best possible chance to get the most people to church to hear that week’s message (which, after all, should be the whole point, shouldn’t it?) As for eating in the cafe, and watching the service … well, as I said earlier, I really don’t believe God cares if we’re eating while we’re worshiping him. I actually happen to think God likes it when we’re always worshiping him… whether we’re eating or showering or paying the bills. The sports thing is a non-issue for me. I don’t watch sports. But I think it’s pretty darn cool for the people who do. I see it as nothing more than another chance to hang out with other believers, bonding over a common interest while you eat your freshly grilled frankfurter. And the video sermon at home? How awesome is it that in this day and age we have that option when we have to miss a sermon?! That’s not being spoon-fed. That’s using the technology given to us by God to further study his Word.
* * * * * * * * * *
When the Bible was written, some 3,000 years ago, there weren’t 7 billion people on the earth. There was no internet. No electricity, no running water, no sound systems, no video recording capabilities. There were no cafes, no Starbucks, and no bookstores. In other words, there is no sound biblical reason to support the flogging of a church simply because it employs any or all of the above. The Bible is silent on the specifics of modern-day worship facilities, because there was no practical need (or resources) for their existence. What is the Bible NOT silent on? Love. Joy. Peace. Patience. Kindness. Goodness. Faithfulness. Gentleness. Self-control. There are no perfect churches…. not big ones, and not small ones. But if your church is preaching – and more importantly, LIVING – these nine things, it’s on the right track, whether it has 17 members or 17,000.
Filed under about me, church, misconceptions, religion, spirituality
Rejecting Labels, and Loving What Is
A big thanks to Lisa DeBusk for today’s guest post!
Bad sleeper. Shy. Clingy. A follower. Smart. Imaginative. These are just a few of the labels I’ve used on my child. I’m starting to realize they’re just words and have nothing to do with who he is.
Every new parent has sleepless nights. Some of us have sleepless years. My son woke every twenty minutes or so in the beginning months, then he woke every hour for a while, and now that he’s three he occasionally sleeps through the night. Occasionally. He hasn’t taken a regular nap since he was two and a half, though as I type this he’s snoozing on the couch beside me at 6:00pm. He won’t be sleepy at bedtime tonight, and I’m ok with that.
Since Henry was born, I’ve fought off and on to get him on some kind of regular routine of sleeping and waking, and nothing I’ve tried has come remotely close to working. All the advice, all the parenting books, all the efforts have changed nothing about his sleep patterns, probably because he really doesn’t have a pattern. He resists routine and structure, despite what everyone says about all kids needing structure. I’ve accepted this about him and stopped fighting it.
Accepting that Henry doesn’t respond well to forced bedtimes and naps is just part of being this particular child’s mother. I know plenty of other children are put to bed wide awake and drift off to sleep on their own after a story and a lullaby, and some nights I would love for it to be that easy. But I’m ok with reading three or four books, improvising several stories on the spot (my son is only happy if I make up a new story every time, about characters with goofy names he creates), and singing three songs over and over while he lies on top of me, rubbing and sometimes scratching my arms. There have been several nights when this was absolutely not ok, and I even lost my temper a little while waiting for him to go to sleep. When I finally accepted that this was not going to change, that Henry was not suddenly going to make things easier for me just because I wanted him to, I made peace with it. He’s not a “bad sleeper.” He sleeps just fine. Not falling asleep exactly when and how I want him to doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with the way he sleeps.
I try not to call Henry “shy” or “clingy” in front of him, but I’m guilty of telling other people that he is. When I think of him as shy, it’s only because I’m comparing him to other children who are comfortable with running up to strangers and having a conversation. I was never that kind of kid, and Henry doesn’t need to be either. If he’s “clingy,” it’s because he’s three years old, and three-year-olds happen to love their mommies quite a bit. I love that he clings to me. When I find myself thinking of him as “clingy,” it’s a sign that I need a little break, some time to myself. I don’t always get a break, but that’s not my son’s fault.
Henry tends to choose one kid on a playground and follow that kid around, doing everything he does. Usually the kid is a bit older, but not always. He’s followed toddlers around, even pretending to cry when they do. I don’t know why he enjoys doing this, and perhaps I’ll never know, but I’ve stopped viewing it as a bad thing. Following other kids around is just what he enjoys, as simple as that.
The last two adjectives at the beginning of my post don’t seem like bad labels, but they can cause as much damage as the others. I know overpraising can lead to some less than desirable results, such as having a child who doesn’t try new or challenging things because he wants to maintain the “smart” label. I try to resist calling him smart for every little thing he does. Remaining neutral is usually the best option, but it’s also natural for a parent to praise her kid. Children probably have the best chance for a good life if they have parents who accept them as they are without labeling any of their actions as either “good” or “bad.” No, that’s not good enough. I don’t think it’s enough to merely accept the way our children are. Instead, everyone is better off if we allow ourselves to love the way our children are, even when it causes us inconvenience, disappointment, or concern. It all comes back, as always, to unconditional love.
Lisa DeBusk is a mom, piano teacher, and writer. She writes about parenting, religion, health, culture, and politics. You can find her writing about gentle parenting at Soulful Parenting.
Filed under acceptance, guest posts, labels, parenting
Why Moms Never Sit
I love the stereotypical bon-bon eating, soap opera watching, image of a home maker. I really do. Mainly because as any stay at home parent could tell you, we NEVER SIT. When you’re a homeschooling parent of multiple children…. well, you never sit times infinity. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a good life. But it’s also a constantly moving, juggling, helping, holding, dancing, playing, getting, putting, doing, showing life.
This past week has been a particularly tiring one. Starting on Monday with illness and Halloween. Tuesday brought the first day of NaNoWriMo (illness be damned) Wednesday was an entire day spent at the AZ State Fair, followed by a visit to my sister in the hospital (who is home now, yeah!) and a late night dinner. Yesterday was the girl’s last day of gymnastics for this session, and a way-longer-than-it-should-have-been grocery shopping trip with all four kids. Today was a fall party with the homeschool group, and a whole heckuva lot of driving.
At four o’clock, exhausted, I tried to sit. Only the youngest two were home.
“Mommy, can you get me some orange juice?” Sure, honey. I got up.
“Mommy!!” That one came from the bathroom, which only means one thing. I got up again.
“Mommy, I need some more paper.” I can’t be responsible for inhibiting creativity. I got up again.
“Mommy, can you sign me into this website?” At seven, Everett still needs help on the computer sometimes. I got up again.
“Mommy, you HAVE to come see this.” Really, I have to? I got up again.
“Mommy, come here, I have to give you something.” What is it?
“I drew you a picture!”
How can you say “no” to that? You can’t. So I got up again, happily.
By then, Mike was getting home, and it was time for dinner, and the evening was wearing on… and I never really did get a chance to sit. And you know, it was worth it.
It’s always worth it.
Filed under homeschooling, life, parenting
















