Intentional Summer

              This is an article I wrote for a newsletter, but as I processed these ideas, I realized I really wanted to remember them, to breathe them in, take hold. Maybe you're a parent headed into summer with school-aged kids, so you may want to, too!

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  School is almost out, and parents and kids alike are looking forward to the lazy mornings and the homework-free afternoons! I am a teacher who loves my job, and I still look forward to this yearly break. But before very long, lazy mornings can produce unproductive, plugged-in, whiny kids and adults, making so many hours at home in each others’ space a prime breeding grounds for selfishness and sibling rivalry. Sound familiar? Read on!

                Research shows that kids thrive in routine, and truthfully, most adults do too. However, when you imagine routine, you might be thinking strict bedtimes and mornings filled with nagging about chores getting done on time. This mental tape makes us veer away from healthy boundaries that provide a support structure for our families. So from here on out, let’s think of our summer routine as more of a compass that guides than a blueprint that dictates. You use a compass to steer you towards an agreed-upon location, and you refer to it often to make sure you continue to head in that direction. A blueprint is constantly looked to in order that your final product may turn out exactly as planned. When building, you don’t deviate from the blueprint without major red tape. Our summer routine can be like a guiding compass for our families, pointing us towards togetherness, freedom, spontaneity, and healthy relationships.

                There are many great resources out there to help you decide your style of routine, but here are some things that I’d like you to think about and pray over before you start this process.

•  What does next school year hold for my child? Are they ready for those particular challenges? Is there training I need to do this summer to prepare them?
• What indicators of spiritual growth do I see in my child over the last school year? Am I beginning to see age-appropriate heart change in them? What times in my schedule am I willing to dedicate to that end?
•  What family values do we have that get squeezed into a lower priority because of the demands of school? How do I bring these to the forefront this summer?

These questions lead you to that agree-upon location referred to earlier. Sometimes we make summer plans by booking camp (guilty as charged!), making vacation plans, and setting up playdates. At some point during those hectic weeks, we may have a few ideas that pop into our heads about family togetherness, but we may never actually take the time to look at these months through a values lens (let alone start here!). But this crucial oversight leads us to the very behaviors that wipe us out—staying up late, ditching our nutritional choices, taking advantage of freedoms that we feel are constricted in the school year. But overindulgence in anything leads to captivity and disillusionment. And in practical terms, we hit August and cannot wait for school to whip us into shape. We are tired of fighting the attitude battle, the gimmies, and so many other indicators that we’ve allowed ourselves to be in bad attitude jail.

        I encourage all of us (and that’s me too!) to start here this year. When we have our values squarely in front of us, we can make wise decisions on things like vacation (which may in fact promote family bonding), playdates (character-building, anyone?), and lazy mornings (we need to learn to slow down and smell the roses for sure!). We also will have the gumption and foresight to add in things that God might have for your family in these next few months—volunteering at the pet shelter, family devotions, or one-on-one dates with your kids. This is what leads to refreshment, changed relationships, and love tanks being full. So determine your location, and then use the following resources to find your compass (style of routine). Freedom from bad attitude jail awaits!

1.       This post has some great ideas on using routine to keep your child well-rounded through the summer. http://singleparents.about.com/od/homelife/tp/summer_day_routines.htm
2.       Needing ideas of what to do with your extra time in the summer? http://www.kidsource.com/kidsource/content4/summer.activities.html
3.       For parents of autistic children, here is something from a parent who walks in your shoes: http://communities.washingtontimes.com/neighborhood/autism-unexpected/2010/jul/30/summer-routines-kids-autism/
4.       For a bookend-style routine, here are some keys: http://www.inspiringmoms.com/insights-summer-schedules-and-routines/
5.       Here is a blog with simple ideas on having kids take charge of their own responsibilities: http://overcomingbusy.com/2009/06/03/setting-up-summer-routines-for-kids/
6.       Although this idea was created for school mornings, these printable picture routine cards can help you this summer. Check it out! http://www.livinglocurto.com/2009/08/school-morning-routine-free-printable-cards/
7.       Lastly, for when you do have a day of nerves, here is how to help you deal with it: http://www.henryford.com/body.cfm?id=46335&action=detail&ref=978
 

On waiting

This is not my best subject for sure. I don't like to leave things to chance. See how they work out. Nope--that's not me.

I wouldn't say that I'm rushed or hurried (although I'm not saying OTHERS might not say that...) but I like a good plan. In general, surprises are for birthdays and anniversaries. Plans are for every other day of the year.

Plans make me feel less rushed, less hurried, less stressed. Everything has a spot on the to-do list or calendar, so I don't need to worry over it. I can see where I have margin and the times that it will be scarce.

It is enjoyable to me to sit with a problem and figure out a solution: creating space for things when it looks like it won't fit, designing a system to handle a problem spot or consistent issue, taking a pile of nuts, bolts and parts and assembling the cabinet it was designed to be. Logical solutions with step-by-step plans make me happy.

(OK, in re-reading this I sound rather neurotic. Hmm.)

So this season of sitting, waiting, letting it work out? It's been hard on me. Or good for me--whichever way you look at it.

I am in a situation in which I cannot plan. I cannot create a solution. In fact, until this solution is revealed (because I do fully believe that God already knows the answer and the timing), I just get to wait. There are many things that can't be planned in this waiting game.

It's not just that Aris doesn't have a job. It's that without know where/when he'll be working,  we cannot really plan ahead. Spring Break? Didn't plan anything not knowing where he'll need to be for interviews. India in June? It's hard to make childcare plans not knowing how much help he'll need. Menus for the month? Kind of holding back on that, not knowing how much money will be in our account in April. 15th Anniversary plans for August? On hold. Heck! Even dinner tonight is iffy, since he's in the East Bay at an interview.

That one, however, is easier to be flexible with, since it may be a stone in the path to the end of this waiting game!

Where have we been?

For months I have not posted consistently. Some of this was logistical: no time, scheduling changes, lifestyle transitions. But mostly, it has been a processing problem. Too much, and dreading what it takes out of me to process it. But God has kept it all bubbling on the back burner, slowly boiling away the impurities and refining my thoughts. Oh, I am a slow boiler when it comes to these big situations to process. I have tried a few times to get it written out and make sense of it; however, I hit mental roadblocks each time. But today, for an entirely different reason I was able to walk through it. Whether anyone else reads this is immaterial to me. I wrote for me. And it feels good to have it down. To document it for future reference of how God stirred in our lives. What rough edges he's been shaving. My battles against Him; his patient victory.

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For us, where do I even begin? Last summer seems a good place.

August found us in a whirlwind of God changing our lives by miraculously providing me a teaching job (in a town where a whole school was shut down and 120 applicants applied for the position I received). It has been humbling, exhilarating and surreal. It felt an honor to have our prayers so completely, clearly and quickly answered—as this miraculous scenario was exactly what we had discussed, prayed over and left in God’s hands regarding a three-year financial pledge we had made during a church-wide spiritual journey a year ago. And so we set about adjusting to me working full-time with the motto: We will not hit the panic button.

Those early months of transition were so full of God’s fingerprints—people stepping up in ministry, others were offering help in getting my classroom ready, friends agreeing to take Silas one day a week after school so we didn’t have to pay for childcare, etc. It was clearly God going before us, strengthening us, and providing constant reaffirmation of his leading us to this place. A place where we had clearly felt him leading us away from for almost a decade: me working full-time with kids at home. I am so thankful for those signs and miracles in those first months of the school year. Even though the activities of those months can only be recalled in a blur with a few moments frozen in time that provide perfect clarity, the emotions of those months can easily be conjured up: calm, reassurance, gratitude for His guidance, security from a huge support network around us and awe at how seamless  (seriously!) that major life-change had gone.

November came; we were still using our “We will not hit the panic button” motto often, but it was such a reminder that we are just doing what God had laid before us, and therefore, He would provide the time and strength for the tasks. Aris came home one day announcing quietly to me, over a sink full of soapy dishes, that his boss was selling the company and that the new employees from Michigan would be there in the next two days to learn the ropes and pack everything up. I remember that moment vividly, because although we were hurriedly scrubbing and drying dishes and the kids were rushing to get jackets on in preparation for leaving to claim Theo’s Student of the Month award, I was frozen wondering if our life was crumbling around us. There was no more time to discuss. No more chance for me to ask questions. No time to process. Just time moving forward, filled with small, insignificant tasks that must be completed to make life the next day survivable, and so I said what I knew to be reliable, “OK, well, we will not hit the panic button.” And like the walls of water with the Red Sea, real life rushed back in filling up that moment of time. Coats were donned, lights switched off and we left to put on smiles and recognize our child’s accomplishments.

However, in the months since, I have been sorely tempted and have failed miserably to not hit the panic button. We’ve been down this road before. So much so, that we’d already used our emergency fund. And out of that time of waiting came a job that was a blessing in so many ways—close to home, not demanding after-hours, and pretty flexible—but that did not really cover our expenses. On paper we should not have survived the past two years without major debt. But with God’s grace we have—without any debt at all, but we have not been able to replenish our emergency fund.  Aris was given three-months salary as severance, which was generous considering he’d only worked there for a little less than two years. But I have tried, somewhat in vain, to not think of that money as a guilt offering from his boss, who knew months before that he was thinking of selling the company, but said nothing so that people would not leave him high and dry. Since we were heading into our second Christmas in three years without money or employment, I was angry. Not that I place a huge value on lots of gifts or expensive gifts, but this year I felt my hand were tied. There was no money, and with this new life God had given me, there was no time nor energy. I really struggled with feeling there was no way to be generous. That felt huge to me.  Plus, this economy is not easy for the unemployed, but in ANY economy, most jobs outside of retail are not hiring. It was almost a guarantee that nothing would even be moving till mid-January. Guilt money or no, I could not see it as anything other than God’s provision for us. We would have money to live until February.

These months—December, January, and February—have been long for me. Some days, most days, I have an unmistakable calm from God. I know His plan is best. His words from the middle of the Sea of Galilee, “Don’t be afraid. It is I.”  seem to be whispered straight to my soul. On these days, I can hardly understand what I might worry about. His patience fills my being and we are a team. My mental and emotional boat hardly seems rocked.

But there have been others where the fear is so real, my faith so threadbare, my pride so overwhelming, that I feel we have been so forgotten by God. Truth is lost in the storm clouds of feelings. I can’t bear the toll it’s taking on Aris—his sense of provider for his family gone. I secretly weep over my five-year-old offering to do chores at my in-laws house to earn extra money for us.  Ugly, untrue thoughts press in—don’t we deserve better? We stepped out in total faith, changing our complete life-style to give 100% of my income over to God’s control? Do I really buy into a health-and-wealth belief system? I feel like disgruntled Cain whose offering has been scorned by God. Me, our lives, my livelihood, that’s not enough for you, God? What are we holding onto that You strip us completely? These are the moments of the spiritual battle that came as we neared the end of February, and our severance money.

We talked about what happens if we need to use the money from my job. In the end, we decided that if it came to that, we’d do it, but neither of us felt released to that. It felt like if we held onto that money at that time, it would be our own lack of faith. I can’t explain it, because I know the story of David eating the holy bread of sacrifice at a time of severe need, but somehow we haven’t heard from God that this is that time yet. And true enough He provides--$500 from my in-laws that I hope to one day repay. A $100 Costco card left at our house while we were gone. Gifts from friends. Almost a month’s worth of food from Angela and Jason, given out of surplus (but really provided from personal sacrifice at a time of no surplus for them). A soccer friend paying for my fees so I can continue to play. An anonymous type-written letter with $1000 in it. A generous soul paying for my trip to India (happening the end of June). And so many small, and not-so-small gifts left weekly by my parents on our kitchen counter: vitamins for the kids, Costco tissues, milk, eggs, meats, etc. These are so completely humbling and overwhelming. There is a weird guilt associated inaccurately to these offerings. I feel like our spiritual journey is costing those around us. I have never, never been given so much in a time when I have so little to offer back.

Somehow, the intense emotional response to that situation alone makes me feel like this is exactly the lesson he wants me to learn. I’m not completely sure on so many levels—that THAT is really the lesson, what that lesson really is, how to walk through that thoroughly other than dying to my prideful nature daily as I eat food given by others and cry into tissues I did not earn. But that’s where we are.  Re-learning to walk in real-time with God. Learning that masking inner panic does nothing but scare my children and make me grouchy. I actually have to have peace that passes understanding for us to benefit from it. I actually have to not worry—not just tell my children that.

One thing that I’m learning about myself in all of this is that I have often prayed: “God, I’ll do whatever you want me to do; I’ll go wherever you want me to go.” But in my mind the emphasis is on ‘do’ and ‘go’. I have not often prayed the prayer that I’ll BE what he wants me to be. Because in this season, he’s asked me to sit. Be calm. Wait. Do nothing.  Oh, that is so much harder for me that if he’d asked me to sell everything and move to the mission field. Or word harder, or take on more.  He actually just wants me empty. Open. Waiting. That’s not something that I can DO; it’s a state of BEING. That’s why it’s been so much easier to step up and add a full-time job to my already filled life. That is something I can analyze, organize, tackle. I can do that by sheer will and determination. But I cannot empty myself with that same formula.

I wish that this was all tied up in a pretty package. Aris has found a job. I no longer struggle with worry. But in actuality, I am glad that it's not. For me, to share in this time of continued vulnerability is a step of growth. Not that I try to hide, but I usually am not able to figure it out before it's all over. I'm usually jumping on board about the time I can see and feel that God has it all worked out. He does, but I can't see that yet. Aris has jobs in the works, but none of them feel like the RIGHT fit. Some of them even feel confusing and opposite of what God has been doing in our lives over the last two years. I don't even know what to do with that information. But I KNOW this is where God wants us. I it is His will that I not panic, but trust His provision and plan. 

And I can accept that. I will accept that daily.

Tough Days in Room K

Ebb and Flow...it happens everywhere.

You see it in the waves at the beach, and over hours with the tide.

You can see it in the seasons.

I've felt it in friendships.

And it can happen in a room of Kindergarteners.

One day (minute or moment) we're all on the track to learning. This is a track that includes self-control, listening, kindness to others, strong effort, and good attitudes. I find this a fascinating, exciting and rewarding track to be on with 20 tiny learners. They find it fun and exciting as well, but their understanding of cause and effect is not nearly as developed as mine. Therefore, our tenure on this track is never guaranteed. We might ride on this lovely track for a day or a week. We've even strung a few weeks together. They are glorious. My days are fun; kids are making huge strides; rhythm has been found; joy is there for the taking. It is an amazing thing to behold.

And then.

Ah, yes. The "and then" must always come. You never know what it might be that knocks our proverbial wheels off. It could be sickness--too many kids out, and whoosh! We have no idea how to act. It could be an assembly--something new and exciting and off we go to the land of crazy. It might be an up-coming field trip, or something very predictable like Halloween.

Whatever it is, we have been thrown for a loop, and all that is left to do is reassess and begin recovery.

This was the case on Tuesday. Any ONE of these things may not derail the whole class (and by association, me), but by the end of all of them, that lovely track leading to joyous learning was long gone.

Coming into the class arguing with another student--at a high volume

• One poking a neighbor on the carpet
• One pulling the hair of the girl in front
• One spreading the peelings of two Cuties all over the floor under the table
• One being asked to change his card (behavior management system of green, yellow, red), which was already on yellow, but instead of complying, it was changed back to the beginning-of-the-day position
• One being removed from the class (and having to sit in the 1st grade class across the hall) in (my) hopes of removing some negative attention and energy 
• One being sent back from music class
• One playing a practical joke in the hallway by moving people's backpacks to other people's hooks

Yep, totally derailed.

Did I mention that every One listed above was actually one student? Holy moley. That was one rough day for that child.

Oh, and did I mention that One was my son? Holy frijoles! That was one rough day for his mother.

A link to Pennywise Platter

A friend (thanks, Christy!) sent me a link to the Nourishing Gourmet, but I never checked it out until now. "Now" is menu time--and it was well worth it. What's up there now? A post for people to link to healthy, affordable recipes! Now that is amazing timing!

I added my recipe for Split Pea soup, which may conjure up visions of 70's-green muck in a bowl, but this is nothing like that. It's fabulous and I have two ways to prove it:

> All three of my kids LOVE it--ages 5, 7, and 9.
>I gave it as a new baby meal to friends and they RAVED and asked for the recipe.

On a side note, I know it was a risk to give split pea as a give-away meal, but I'm serious that it's that fabulous. And it's so good for you too!

So if you are making menus and need some inspiration--check out the link. There are also some good treats on there too.

Too Long, Too Much

Ever have something so much (or so many little things that pile up) bigger than you, that you don't have the mental or emotional space to process it or share it? For me right now, it's life. Daily life. I live it, but when I think about sitting down to share the fun (there's plenty of those!) or frustrating (yep, enough of those), or even inspiring (I can think of a few) moments, it's just to much to process.

And I'm ok with that, except...except that is what blogging is supposed to help me do: process.

So what happens to all that stuff that I mentally abandon at 8:30pm when I crawl into bed?

Seriously, where does it go?

I don't feel like it's building up, because I wake up refreshed and ready to hit another day. I feel excited about what God has called me to do. I hear his voice. His comfort is with me every step.

So it's not building up, but where is it going?

Because without the time to sit and process the events/emotions/needs of my day, I sort of feel like they lose their value. Am I learning lessons from my mis-steps today if I don't actually have time to re-walk through them? Am I able to glean the joy out of the treasure-box moments that God sends to lighten my load if I only glance at them as they speed by in real time?

I'm not sure. This is new for me. For years (9 to be exact), my life has been filled with washing dishes, changing diapers, mopping floors and the like. These mindless tasks didn't kill me because that is where I did my mental processing. Even hours of playing cars on the car mat or building with blocks left me able to ponder my responses to my kids, treasure up their yumminess, and hear God's voice in the moment.

But this life he's called me to in this season is filled with mind-bending tasks that leave no space for back-burner ponderings and processing. And I'm  wiped at the end of the day. Happily, contentedly wiped.

And so my emotional and physical responses to Aris being out of work for two months have no place to be processed. And I can't bring myself to put my thoughts in order enough to share them. And so you, my friends and faithful prayers, have no idea how to pray for us.

Well, let's start there: we are waiting on God for a job for Aris. The job He wants for Aris. And we I am practicing waiting without worry.

Fortunately, Unfortunately

Fortunately, we live in the country.

Unfortunately, the country has critters.

Fortunately, I am not a 'fraidy cat.

Unfortunately, that was tested tonight in our kitchen by evidence of a mouse.

Fortunately, I am not the one who found the mouse droppings.

Unfortunately, my husband did find them under the stove, under the sink, and few other places.

Fortunately, the mouse had already gone to see the Big Cheese in the sky.

Unfortunately, it was by means of decapitation in our DISHWASHER.

Fortunately, we found it before we used any of the "clean" dishes.

Unfortunately, we're going to be up all night. Him getting a mouse out of the dishwasher and me washing every lovin' item in our kitchen.

Fortunately, I can sleep in a little tomorrow.

Unfortunately, that means I won't have time to work out.

Fortunately, I won't gain any weight, since I may have completely lost my appetite for the rest of 2011-- because did I mention that there was a dead mouse in my dishwasher?

Ahhh!