Moms On Sunday Mornings

Groggy and blurry eyed, I focused my eyes on the clock. I'd tempted fate last night, not setting the alarm, but the red numbers came into focus at 6:45, exactly when my alarm usually goes off. Every part of me wanted to roll over and go back to sleep; I hate getting up in the morning. More often then not my mind mumbles this desperate prayer, "Dear God, I need you for this day!" I imagine He smiles down in amusement, knowing that the day isn't really the issue here, the issue is really getting me out of the bed.

As I said, getting up on any morning is not my strong point but this was Sunday morning. This was the one day of the week my husband could stay sleeping in the morning (He works until noon on Saturdays). This was the one morning the children were apt to snuggle in a little longer and the house remain quiet a little later. Oh, the temptation was strong to close my eyes to those red numbers on the clock and pretend I didn't know that I should get up.

"Why should I have to get up early on Sunday morning?" A part of me argued. "They don't always have to have sugary biscuits for breakfast." My head sank deeper into the pillow, blocking out those flashing red numbers that were already climbing relentlessly toward 7:00. "We could eat waffles or eggs or...I don't know... cereal, for lunch. I wouldn't have to get up and get something ready for the oven."

But another part of me wouldn't listen to reason; the grown up, responsible part of me that a mother of 16 years should, by now, have. "You know you'll wish you would have," it told me. "You know you'll be glad you did. Might as well do it; you'll have to sooner or later."

And then, as I pushed back the covers and slipped quietly from the cozy bed, the voice started saying some other things. "Remember how you talked about Treasure In Heaven once?" I warily eyed my bedhead  reflection in the mirror and vaguely wished the voice would mind it's own business. "What if getting up in the morning when nobody else has to is storing up Treasure In Heaven?" the voice persisted. "What if cheerfully serving your family sugary biscuits because you know it will make them smile is storing up Treasure In Heaven?"

By now I'd washed the sleep from my eyes and I found a tiny, little stirring of joy in my heart. Supposing it is, I wondered? And supposing I prepped lunch with a smile on my face and a song on my lips instead of feeling sorry for myself that my spot under the covers was empty while everyone else got to enjoy theirs a little longer? Maybe it wasn't fair that I had to get up earlier just because I was mom but, then again, maybe it wasn't fair that I had that opportunity either.

Sunday morning is tough for a mom sometimes. There are things we can do to make what is often a hectic morning more peaceful -- prepping lunch on Saturdays, laying out clothes the night before, getting up early, making sure our diaper bag is ready... But in spite of our best efforts, a mom on Sunday morning is usually a busy person. We're the ones finding people's belts and shoes and washing the spot out of someone's dress. We smooth hair and settle fusses and inspect little faces for dirt. We gather Bibles and fix casseroles and sometimes we spend a little time looking in the mirror at our own face. It's easy to feel bitter as a mom on Sunday morning, especially when the children are young and the baby got you up during the night.

I will tell you this, a smile on my face and a song on my lips made for a much happier than usual Sunday morning the other week. I arrived at church feeling somehow like I had already worshipped, instead of sighing over the marathon I'd just run to get us there. The shift from "poor me" to "what an opportunity" put a paradigm twist on my attitude and outlook.

And I'll tell you something else.

A week later the same voice came talking to me again on Sunday morning. I was tempted to wish I'd never written anything about Treasure In Heaven that could come back to haunt me. But then I slipped out of bed and made that choice again and I think it could - just maybe - become a thing for this mom to store up Treasure In Heaven on Sunday mornings.

Packing Lunches

Well. That was a long, unplanned silence. Summer is over and school has commenced. Hopefully I'll slide quietly back into blogging...

       -------------------------------------------------------

School is back in session, and so is the job of packing a row of lunches. I think one of the biggest things I dreaded this year about the new schedule was facing that morning scramble of packing lunches. And making sure there are things to pack in those lunches.

Chris couldn't understand my anxiety and had a simple solution for the problem. "Make them fix their own lunches! There's no reason they can't fix their lunches instead of you doing it."

I say a simple solution.

Except to me, that solution is anything but simple. The idea of four children in the kitchen every morning, scrambling around, searching for food, bombarding me with questions, squabbling over who gets what, fills me with more dread than doing the job myself. I know a lot of families take that route. I know there are probably ways to streamline the process. But not this mother! I just don't think I could deal with it.

Still, as school time crept closer, I kept thinking there has to be a better way. What could I do to take some of the stress out of my school mornings? Other than getting up at some ungodly hour. This mother doesn't deal well with that, either.

First day of school!

And then, I hit on a creative idea. An idea that would make the children do some of the work without the bedlam I feared in the kitchen. An idea that just might be the perfect fix and an actual simple solution. Can you tell I'm kinda proud of myself?

I'm not good with sticking to schedules and elaborate plans, so we'll see how long this lasts. For now, I'm loving it. While it's working, I thought I'd go ahead and share in case any of you other moms are like me and need a lunch packing solution.

Every night after supper, the children each have a job to do -- put away leftovers, clear the table, empty the drainer, wash dishes. I decided evening lunch prep would be just the ticket. Since everyone was doing jobs anyway, it was easy to include in the routine.

The girls lunches almost always include something to warm up. Jasmine, who puts leftovers away, is responsible to make sure there are 3 containers filled and ready to go.

Or a stack of pizza

as the case may be

 Lillian and Jennifer rotate between washing the dishes and the new job -- filling bags with chips and containers with cookies for lunches.

We have a basket designated 

for these items. 

In the morning, I make a sandwich for Isaac and a sandwich for Chris. The rest of the lunch items can be grabbed from what was prepared the night before. Add an apple or a bowl of frozen fruit, spoons where needed, and we're good to go! Now if I'd just spend some time making up a stash of these for those days when there are absolutely no leftovers, packing lunches might be almost fun.

Almost.

What Is Summer: The Glow And The Reality

What is summer?

Summer is green, luscious green everywhere. Little garden, growing wildly. First the blooms, then tiny, promising fruit. What a thrill to watch it grow, then pick and enjoy the product of our labors.

(Also: Living in the middle of the woods it means weeds grown up, up and out of control. Until I feel like I'm living in a jungle and no one cares but me.)

Summer is popcicles on a hot, sunny day; homemade ones. Made with the relic Tupperware molds of our past. 

(To be honest: we've made them once this year and they disappeared in about 2 days.)

Summer is fourth of July picnics at the lake. 

(Confession: picnics anywhere, much less all together at the lake, are not really 

what-you-might-say

a regularity with the Eicher family. 

This was special.)

Summer is storing up the bounty for winter. It's watching the full jars line up slowly and feeling the adrenaline rush of the lids sealing with a satisfying 'ping'.

It's a friend sharing her bounteous dill and your mother-in-law digging out more jars from her basement. It's pulling out old recipes, long unused. It's the smell of vinegar and spices. It's tomato sandwiches and cucumbers on butter bread and weary bones at the end of the day. 

(Full Disclosure: It's a sweet, caring husband who takes an afternoon off to go to a produce auction to buy his wife veggies for canning -- a husband who likes to buy things at autions; lots of things. It's a wife who discovers she really may not have learned so very much in 17 years. [That's putting it all very mildly])

Summer is long, lazy days and evenings. It's a game of Clue, first thing in the morning. It's a trip to the Library and gazing in awe at the American Girl Doll collection on display. It's an afternoon spent on the recliner with stacks of books. It's crafting a swing set for your poor Fisherprice children who desperately need one. 

(Reality: It's settling fusses over one person having both Fisherprice toilets while their sibling has none. It's a perpetually toy-strewn living room, non-stop Adventures In Odyssey and people who constantly think they need to be fed. It's hoping for some quiet time in the morning before everyone wakes up for the day.....)

Summer is busy and lazy and fun and taxing, all rolled into one. It is also short and fleeting and deserves to be 

enjoyed to the full. 

How's your summer?

Let Vacation Begin!

It's the last day of school.

I'm sitting here, in my quiet house, savoring the moment. I decided last night already that I will enjoy this last morning of quiet by doing nothing.

I'm actually not dreading summer vacation. I have some years, I'll be honest. This year, I'm not. But I know it will be an adjustment to have more people around every day, so I'm enjoying this quiet while I have it.

Honestly though, my emotions are all over the place this morning.

Just look at that man-child. I am so proud of him. He's grown so much in the past year -- like, literally; it's weird to look at an adult sized person that's your son. But I'm not just talking about on the outside. He's also grown so much on the inside. I see evidence of God at work in his life and that is so thrilling to watch.

And this woman-child? She's amazing. And not just because she makes cool macrome and grows cute succulents and takes on and conquers sourdough. I'm convinced the girl can pretty much do anything she sets her mind to. But that's not all that amazes me. I see Jesus in her life too, and it's so sweet to behold.

So, yes. I'm discovering lately the abundant blessing of watching my children grow up and choose truth. There is no way to describe the deep feelings that stirs in a parent's heart. But people! Look at my babies.....

Chris recovered video clips from an old hard drive and watching them last night just about undid me.

Just look at them playing church...

Chris was giving them flips and the giggles and hilarity were high...

And oh, my heart. I think they were only maybe two and four when I taught them the Bible verses of the wise man and foolish man story along with motions. Their sweet, lisping 

voices are just too much.

So, yes. This growing up business undoes me; the joy and pride and blessing of seeing them mature and the bittersweet ache of days forever gone. Not to mention, who were those young parents and what ever happened to them along the way? I mean, I feel like I'm still that person but looking at those old pictures, I realize I must be somebody much different.....

How this all works I cannot tell you. But now I must go pick up my school children. Let vacation begin!

No Greater Joy

Last week my husband was in Arkansas helping one of his buddies with a countertop job. Upon hearing this, a lady at church commented that we'll probably hear about it in a blog post. I confess that I was immediately quite sure she wouldn't. But, here I am, writing some thoughts from last week after all. There is something about having the man of the house gone that makes me think things I wouldn't otherwise.

Here is the startling reality that hit me last week: My children are not merely children anymore. They are quite mature, responsible young adults who have wise, thoughtful ideals that I am proud of. They could now probably take care of me quite capably if the need arose.

Granted, there are plenty of times and situations when they act very much like they are merely children and, for sure, the youngest are just that. It is easy, in the muddle of daily life, to become so focused on the faults and failures that their childishness becomes all that I see. But on a grander scale, my children are so much more than that and they make me quite proud.

It is hard to completely understand the feelings of a parent until you are one yourself. When sitting down to play a game turns into an hour long discussion on church and living out our Christianity, your heart just swells with gratitude. Upon expressing my feelings of pride and appreciation, one of my children questioned, "Why? We haven't done anything!" My response was given with tears in my eyes.

"Yes, you have have done something. I see you wanting to follow God and making good choices; there is nothing that means more to a parent!"

Being a parent is hard, we hear that all the time. We all know that no matter how carefully we do our job, these children ultimately have the freedom to make their own choices. No matter how diligently we tailor our care, somewhere along the line we will hurt these children entrusted to us. No matter how much we pray and lean on God's wisdom, we are not going to get everything right.

My children are not all grown up yet. I don't know all the choices they will make or what the years will bring. But when I stop and take notice, I see the beginnings of good fruit and oh, how it blesses me. 

So, dear Mammas. In the midst of the hardness of parenting, there is hope. Take a moment to pause and look past all the childishness. I'm guessing if you do, you will catch a glimpse of some good fruit, however small it may be. Allow that glimpse to swell your heart with gratitude. And, while you're at it, it might not hurt to share your pride with your children. The shy smiles and bright eyes will do something for both of your hearts.

"I could have no greater joy than to hear that my children are following the truth." 3 John 4 NLT

To Make Their Eyes Sparkle

In Ohio, the first day of Spring meant a snow day. I'm not going to mention any attitudes associated with that, except gratitude about school being cancelled. I almost felt like I should apologize to the rest of the school patrons about the change in schedule, because it was obvious to me that the Lord just needed to take care of the lady on The Hill who's husband wasn't at home.

We spent a truly lazy day lounging around in night clothes, playing games that we were too lazy to find the pieces for and other such strenuous activities.

In the late afternoon, when I was putting off starting supper as long as possible, my eight year old came begging to have a "Restaurant" for supper. They've been wanting to do this for awhile and I've been putting them off for lots of 'good' reasons - mostly laziness and selfishness on my part. I started to drag my feet and then decided, why not?

We decided on a menu of Taco Salad so that each person could choose what they want on their salad and they came up with appetizers of Ritz crackers with melted cheese with or without pepperoni or ham. We came up with a simple dessert, some cheesy biscuits and a choice of drinks to round out the menu. And then we got busy.

Of course, the unique thing about this restaurant was that I got to be the chef and then turn around and be a customer ☺

Jennifer and Lillian busily worked on menus and setting up their table in the basement while Jasmine helped me work on food.

We set up food stations for them while they prepared all the details for their customers, right down to bells to ring for service.

When everything was ready, Isaac, Jasmine, Charles and I took our places at the table and our friendly waitresses came to take our drink and appetizer orders.

As they were leaving, Isaac wondered if this place has crayons and pictures to color? Lillian promptly popped his bubble by producing stickers and paper that she had prepared just for that purpose! We got a good laugh out of that one.

I had to be the annoying customer who rang the bell just to bring a waitress down to ask if they have a restroom?

The drinks and appetizers were served and then it was on to ordering the main course. Our waitresses made a few mistakes, which they apologized for profusely, and we chuckled (behind their backs) over the meager helpings they served us.

Turns out it was an all you can eat type of deal, so we all had seconds and were quite well filled.

Last of all we were offered dessert which some of us barely had room for.

We left our waitresses a generous tip, which they were quite thrilled with. Then we did a most unusual thing and told them the customers would clean up their dishes and food if they would bring the things up from the basement.

All in all, it was quite fun and well worth the extra effort. The sparkling eyes and the multiple thank yous, given with hugs and big smiles, were enough to make this mom glad she had said yes.

What makes your children's eyes sparkle? Do you have memories from your childhood when you were the one with sparkling eyes?

Curious George And The Little Boy With The Funny Hat

This is George.

George is a good little.......

well, not actually a monkey

but we can pretend.

George was once a little girl's

 pencil topper

 but then she gave him away

and now he lives with his friend,

The Little Boy With The Funny Hat.

George has many adventures

with the little boy with the funny hat.

The little boy likes to take him everywhere!

One day he went along to the post office

And the library

and McDonalds.

George likes to ride around

 in the little boy's coat pocket

 or to be carried, 

all snuggled up in his hand.

Sometimes he shares the

 little boy's cookies

Or sits beside 'Honey Bear'

and listens to stories

on the computer.

Sometimes he gets to help

play baby doll

and take rides in the back

of the old, pink stroller.

George is a very tiny

little monkey,

and hard to keep track of.

When he gets lost,

the little boy with the funny hat

is very sad.

"Where is George?"

He will cry.

And the whole family will go

on a George hunt.

Just when they are sure they have seen George for the last time,

he will turn up again 

in the most unlikely places!

In the seal of the washing machine --

What a scary experience 

that was for George!

Tucked under a blanket

where he spent a whole night

and a day before being discovered --

What a joyful shout 

went up that day!

In an abandoned heap

where he spent the night at the bottom of the steps --

What a lonely night 

that must have been!

And many other places 

too numerous to mention.

George is a good little monkey and always up for an adventure but at the end of the day his favorite place to be

 is snuggled up in the hand of

 The Little Boy With The Funny Hat

 as he drifts off to sleep.

The End.

-----------------------------------

This is a true story starring my youngest who is enamoured, at this point in life, by Curious George Stories and imaginary friends.

'George' has long since disappeared to who knows where. In his place, we now tote 'Honey Bear' who is much easier to keep track of. Someday, when 

The Little Boy With The Funny Hat

 is all grown up and the days of imaginary friends long past, I will pull out this story and show his children what a sweet little boy their daddy was.