Love the Girl

I just read this article called "Rules for Mothers of Daughters."  Read it.  It is wonderful

I hope it does not make anyone feel guilty.  Perhaps we should call it "Great Ideas for Mothers of Daughters."  I think the only "rules" should be these:

1. Love your daughter, no matter what.  Even when she doesn't want you to, and especially when you don't want to.
2. Teach her about her infinite worth and royal heritage.  She will need this undergirding to get through what life has to throw at her.
3. Show her how to love.
4. Teach her that life is bigger than she is, and help guide her towards the best paths to become what God has set out for her.
5. Keep loving her.  You both need it.

That's all.  But I think I'll go collect a hug now.  And maybe tomorrow we'll paint our toenails.

Parent Teacher Conferences

Not happy today.

After a few years of pulling teeth and general wrangling about the importance of schoolwork, Chris has decided that he could get good grades if he wanted to.  Better yet, he has decided to want to.  First term went so much better than last year, but he's slid back into some of his old, lackadaisical habits recently.

Today was parent/teacher conferences at Chris's school.  We looked at his grades together.  To his credit, they are mostly As.  Three, however, are considerably lower than that.  One was caused by just not turning in things he had done.  Easily remedied in that class.  The other two will be tougher.

Chris got angry, blaming his teachers for changing late-work policy and going over hard material too fast.  Then he complained that the classes were boring and not worth listening to.  He ramped up the rant by accusing me of not giving him any incentive to get good grades.  Other parents pay their children for good grades, or give big rewards.  I'm too stingy, to mean, and too uncaring, I know (he didn't actually say that, just so you know).

And for some reason, Chris did not want to go with me to talk with his teachers.  <sigh>

If you want consequences for grades, you have to accept the bad consequences, as well.  And that means going to an uncomfortable meeting with your teacher (who is unimpressed with your performance) and your mother (who is frustrated with your attitude and disappointed with your work ethic).

And part of growing up means taking accountability for your own actions, not shoving fault onto others around you.  It also means finding your incentive inside yourself instead of waiting for someone else to motivate you.  If you want a better environment, you have to put more into it.

Yes, I am listening to myself talk here.  And here are some ideas I found in this article today.  It talks about how to be happy at you job.  We all have jobs.

1. Like your job. Employees who achieve great results care about what they do. They are always zealous and take an interest in all facets of their work, whether they are in the classroom, on an outreach program, in a fair booth or doing management tasks.
2. If you are not happy with your work, find a way to make it interesting. Try increasing your job responsibilities or changing your outlook. Do not be scared to take on more responsibility. If you have the opposite problem and have too much on your plate, find out if you can delegate some of your responsibilities.
3. Watch where you put blame. Where do you put the fault when you have a tough time with a supervisor? Blaming the other person will only cripple your attempt to change. We all have tough times at work. Some choose to complain, others choose to be productive and positive. Which kind are you?
4. Ask for help from a boss or an HR representative, or ask a co- worker how he or she does a certain task so efficiently. Consider it a way of acquiring strength rather than exposing a weakness. Showing interest in your job is a positive step.
5. Be a positive thinker. When you commit a mistake, tell yourself, “It's OK, I messed up, but I’ll do better next time.” Team players don’t waste time getting unduly upset about mistakes made. Instead, they gear up for the next opportunity.
6. Be a team player. Top achievers share their knowledge, experience and time with others. They do not keep important information for themselves only. They do not act like only they can complete a task or are capable of completing an assignment correctly. A sign of a team player is that others on the team have the information to cover when one team member is out. Real team players are generous about their time and effort when it comes to contributing to the success of the team.
7. Be cheerfully flexible. Plan on the fact that the unplanned will happen. Often we show our true mettle when a crises occurs and we have to deal with something unscheduled. Roll with the punches.
8. When work is through, go home and do something. Walk around the block, or read a book. Work on a hobby or plant a flower. Make your home life as active as your work life. It will help you remember that work is only part of your life, and life is worth living. The more you do, the more you want to do. Your enthusiasm will motivate you and you will naturally achieve more — both at work and at home.

Yes, I made him go to parent/teacher conference with me.  And later we made up.  And now I'm having my own parent conference and finding some late work I need to redo and turn in.  I have some lackadaisical habits I need to get rid of, too.

And maybe tomorrow (or tomorrow's tomorrow) will be happier.

Christmas Lights

Yeah, we went to Big Box Mart and picked up a few strings of lights after all.  And wouldn't you know it, the same boys who have been begging to have our house all decked out in Christmas lights are the same boys who don't want to put them up?

So now, reluctantly, we have half the house lit.  Redneck, us.

To Bed!

I finally, finally got everyone to bed.  It's been one of those days.  The twins were all out of sorts, so I spent most of the morning sitting on the couch and reading stories to them.  They needed a lot of attention today, and threw countless screaming temper tantrums.  Naptime was brutal, and ended up with Georgie, Freddie, Angel, and Mom all passed out from exhaustion on the boys' bed.

We attempted to go to Cub Scout pack meeting, but after each little one had to go to the bathroom multiple times (score: Freddie 5, Georgie 4, Angel 2) AND change seats on the noisy folding chairs AND keep running to the door to hold it open indefinitely .. I gave up and packed up for home.  Trent was working this evening, and there just isn't enough of me to corral three tumultuous preschoolers during boring-to-them presentations.  By bedtime, I was a wreck.

By miraculous Heavenly intervention, they all went down to bed fairly easily.  This was good for my shot nerves.  Ben came back up and we visited for a few minutes.  I heard the rustle of twins getting up to go potty again, but they scampered back off when they saw that I saw them.

Ben said goodnight and I love you (!) and went downstairs to bed.  Momentarily, he was back up, holding a twin in each arm.  "Look who I found rummaging through my garbage can!"  He had thrown away some spice drops because they taste like the detestable black licorice that I like.  He put down the little thieves and they slowly inched towards me, proud of themselves, smiles tickling their lips and mischief dancing in their eyes.

As Freddie lifted his arms to hug me, I frowned and shook my head.  "Go back to bed!" I commanded.  "That was very naughty."  The smiles fell off their adorable faces as they turned in unison.  Single file, they shuffled slowly toward the bedroom with heads bowed and arms hanging dejectedly.  It was the saddest thing I've seen for a long time - and executed so precisely!  They must practice when I'm not looking.

Ben and I managed - barely - to stifle our laughter until they left the room.  Aren't twins fun after all?

The Lost Shirt

Think of it something like the prodigal shirt- so sad to lose it, and so happy to get it back.  I present to you today, the modern parable:  The Lost Shirt.

Ben has started playing on a basketball league.  He loves it, and I think he's tall enough.  Today was his first game, and he was anxious to get there early.  He was indeed prompt (probably because we didn't take him to the game).  He had fifteen minutes to warm up and get his new basketball jersey.  He's always happy when he can have an earlier pick on the reversible jerseys, and doesn't end up with the smallest one in the bunch.

Ben picked out number 23, close to his lucky number of 13.  He took off the t-shirt he wore today and pulled on the new-smelling jersey.  He took some practice shots and warmed up to play.

Unfortunately, his team lost.  That's what happens when you don't have a practice before the first game, and you have a new team.  But Ben enjoyed playing the game, and came home happy to have played a good game of ball (and they didn't lose by much).

After being home for a few minutes, Ben peeled off his sweatshirt to show me the new, big-enough-for-a-tall-boy jersey.  He looked down to the floor where he had placed his basketball, and got a funny look on his face.  "Mom," he said sheepishly, "I think... no, I did.  I left my shirt at the basketball game.  Can you take me back to get it?  I really have to have it because I only have six shirts and if I lose one then I will only have five and then I'll get ribbed about wearing the same shirt on the same school day.  Please, Mom?"

I made a deal with Trent, and stayed home where it was warm.  I've been so cold lately!  Trent took the three little ones on a ride with Ben, and the five of them high-tailed it back to the school where the game was held.

They pulled into the parking lot, worried that there was only one other car.  "Please, please, please," Ben pleaded, sprinting to the doors.  Locked.  Ben ran to the front doors, and was relieved to find them still open.  The gym, however, was locked.  He pounded on the doors until the custodian opened up.  "Did you see my gray t-shirt?"  Ben was hopeful.  Nope.  No one had noticed anything.  Ben dashed in and searched.  Success!  He ran back to the car with his triumphant gray banner flying overhead.  (Or maybe I'm taking creative license, but it would look good in a movie, wouldn't it?)

They came back home in a jolly mood, looking at festively decorated houses and listening to Angel's new song, "Christmas lights, Christmas lights, Christmas lights, Christmas lights.  Christmas lights, Christmas lights, Christmas lights, Christmas lights, I wish we had some on our house because I think they are so pretty.  Christmas lights, Christmas lights."  At the end of the song, Freddie and Georgie shout, "Yay!" and clap their hands enthusiastically.  They also do this at church.

Trent pulled into the driveway, and Ben thanked him profusely.  Ben grabbed his treasured shirt, only to have the ultimate panic, "This.  Is not my shirt!"  His eyes were wild and Trent said he could hear Ben's heart screaming.  After three seconds of eternity, Trent said, "You're right.  That's the sweatshirt I left in the van.  Yours is over there."

Peace was restored.  Ben is funny.  The twins had a lovely drive with Daddy.  Trent is a good man for taking care of the kids when they panic.  And Angel may get some Christmas lights on our house.  I love this family!

The end.

The Ultimate Career

I've been thinking a lot about being a mom.  I just have to say that I love it.  It's the hardest thing I've ever done, but I'm learning to find joy even in the difficult parts.  I've been told that I need to "get away" or "take a break" or "make some time for yourself."  Yeah.  When I have eight kids and a husband and a household to manage... when is there time for anything?  If there was anything, I'd just want some sleep.

I do understand the need for me to recharge, to have a break.  But it is frustrating to think I have to do all that I have to do, PLUS take out time for me.  And time out for Mom often takes the lowest priority, you know.  

So I've been learning to take mini-breaks.  I can pray for an extra moment when I dash into the bathroom.  I can ponder and plan as I crawl out of bed.  I have been impressed with how much of a difference it makes when I just smile.  And I ask for and give hugs.  Lots of them.  Today I'm working on giving compliments, because it is a two-for-one bucket filler special!  Fills my bucket, fills someone else's, too.  What a bonus.  

I'm glad I get to be Mom.  I have thought of other jobs, other careers, but this is the best one.  C.S. Lewis knew it, too.  He said, 

"The homemaker is the ultimate career.  All other careers exist for one purpose, and that is to support the ultimate career."

Amen.

Learning Colors

Red.  Blue.  Black.  The twins are starting to notice that colors are different.  I'm glad, 'cuz their dad is a little bit colorblind.  We'll see how the little ones do.  The Angel has them all figured out, so she is a good coach.

When I start teaching new concepts, I try to incorporate it into as many ordinary things as I can.  "You want a drink of water?  Great!  You can have a drink in the RED cup, and Georgie can have a drink in the BLUE cup.  And Angel has the ORANGE cup.  You have red, Georgie has blue, and Angel has orange.  What color is your cup?"  We go over it enough times to make a non-toddler-mother nervous tics, because that is how they learn.

Georgie is starting to get the hang of red, blue, and green.  Freddie thinks everything is "lello."  We go through a single color and do identification.  "Here is a WHITE paper.  Look!  Your shirt is white.  What else is white?  Your milk?  Good job!  This envelope is white, and the cord is white, and this spoon is white."  Then I ask Freddie what color the spoon is.

Lello.

 

 Everything good is lello.  It's such a cheerful color, and now I have a more cheerful name for it.  The marshmallows are my favorite.  It's such a cheerful color, and now I have a more cheerful name for it.  In honor of Freddie and one of the most cheerful people I haven't met yet, I'll call the color Maralello.

We all need a bit of cheer, don't we?