Peace!

After two weeks of fitful sleeping, and almost nonstop crying since last Friday, this is a wonderful, wonderful sight. Now if only the other children were asleep so I could join the slumber party. Well, at least she is sleeping. 

Joyful Noise

 

 

Quiet.

 

With six kids under eleven, it is a rarity. We all have this need to be heard.  (Except Matt who just looks at the chaos with patient exasperation.)  There's so much talking in our house that its amazing we don't exhaust the oxygen supply and all pass out.  Even during peaceful moments there is noise. Someone humming. Little giggles. Tapping pencils or crayons.  Dragons roaring and supermen swooshing. 

Some times the noise is downright overwhelming.  A few mornings ago, I bounced Kate, vainly trying to soothe her, while breaking up the wrestling/biting match Ben and Will were having that predictably dissolved into both boys screaming - each sure he was the victim.  About halfway through this fiasco, Mary had stomped off after not being able to concentrate on reading during the madness.  It was so over the top that I just started laughing - undoubtedly sounding a bit unhinged. 

But those times always give in to kid-quiet eventually.  One of the older children reading to a younger sibling.  Quietly drawing as we read The Christmas Carol as a family.  Snuggling with Kate or assembling a puzzle.

 I'm grateful for the noise at my house.  Sometimes it drives me a little nuts, but I just need to remember what it means.  My house, and arms, and life are full.

Exactly!

At the adult session of stake conference last night, the mission president said something very interesting. "When our missionaries are obedient they are blessed. When our missionaries are exactly obedient they see miracles."

I tend to be a little haphazard in everything I do. That's due in large part to the fact that I am very impulsive. But occasionally I catch a glimpse of what Heavenly Father sees for me. What could my life be like if I was more exact?  What miracles could I see?

I am making Emily's Christmas dress this year. I bought the fabric and cut it out and am in the process (meaning I sewed one seam and have thought about it a lot) of sewing it. The fabrics pucker and unravel and this could be a complete disaster. I'm not quite sure what I was thinking buying such difficult fabric. Actually, I know exactly what I was thinking. I was looking at the end product. If I can pull it off it will be a beautiful dress. But I am not an expert seamstress. I'm not even a proficient seamstress. I can follow a pattern and operate a sewing machine. I'm just hoping that if I execute every task with exactness the end product will be everything I am envisioning. If not I can pull out the trusty seam ripper (hopefully without ruining the delicate fabric).

In my life I feel very much like a novice seamstress. I've selected my pattern and cut out the fabric. Now I'm just sewing one seam at a time, all the while hoping I'm doing things right and not completely messing up the end product. Thank heaven for do-overs. When I do flub up, the atonement is there to remove the botched seam - and sometimes replace an entire panel of ruined fabric. I get overwhelmed thinking of everything I have to do. How can I possibly get everything done at all let alone with exactness?  But then I realize I just need to focus on one seam at a time. Be present with each task and perform it well. 

It just occurred to me that in order perform all the tasks required of me and do so with exactness, I need to make sure I'm working on the right seam. And the right dress for that matter. If I'm not, what does it matter?

I have a lot of work to do. But, hopefully as I move forward, my efforts to be exact will show in the finished product of my life and it will be more beautiful than I could have done otherwise. 

Here's a story about exactness from the Book of Mormon

Here's a wonderful article about exactness

Snow!

                                   Snow! Snow!

                       Snow.              Snow!

           Snow.                          Snow!

"Snow.                                    Snow!

It won't be long before we'll all be there with snow."

I'm not sure where the magic comes from, but whenever I see those little white fluffs falling from the sky, excitement bubbles over.  I love watching them in the glow from street lamps and the slow accumulation that turns the world white. We won't get that much tonight, but after living here for 7 years I'm not too picky. Even seeing a few fat flakes is reason for celebration. 

Viruses Don't Care

We had a fun week planned. Mary was going to start swimming lessons at the YMCA, Joe had his big semiannual 5k race for school (that incidentally we had already paid our non-refundable fees for), and Emily was supposed to sing in sacrament meeting (she was very excited). But our little visiting virus didn't care. He insisted that we clear our schedules and pay attention to him. 

With fevers over 103.5, an incubation of 3-5 days and being contagious for about a week after the fever starts, we have dutifully cleared our schedules, one kid at a time.

One nice thing about everyone except Mary and Kate getting this virus one right after another is that we will be sending Mr. Virus packing soon. 

More on Free Range

 My friend just shared this NYtimes article.  It address the over-parenting topic from a more professional stand point.  It validates my opinion on one hand, and causes me to reassess my parenting on the other.  It's an interesting read.

Free Range Parenting

Want to know how to completely freak people out?  Go to a park with a bunch of kids (preferably your own) and just let them loose on the playground. Make them work out their own (non violent) skirmishes. Let them get a little dirty and don't freak out if they skin a knee. 

My friend Shannon has such a dry sense of humor. Her sarcasm cracks me up. She always used to say that we were "free range" parents, kind of the anti-helicopter parent.

Just a quick disclaimer. I am NOT a parenting expert. After more than a decade at this parenting thing there are a few things I know, a lot of things I know but undoubtedly will find out are false, and a lot of things that I know I don't know. There are about as many correct philosophies in parenting as there are children. Having said that, here is a funny interaction I had the other day with Emily's teacher. 

Emily is very dramatic. I love this about her (most of the time). At school they have what is called a "peace area" where the children go to resolve conflict. They sit at this table and one child tells the other what she is upset about and then they proceed to resolve their differences -theoretically. Evidently, Emily has been taking friends there three or four times a day without resolving their issues. Her teacher emailed me to let me know what was going on and asked if I would be alright if Emily participated in a "friendship" group with the school counsellor where they could talk about how to be good friends and how to resolve conflict. 

My personal feelings toward the school counsellor aside (that's a story for another day) the group sounded a little silly. And the group would (Em's teacher assured me) not conflict with school work or recess. No, it would be during lunch. I said "No" very firmly. 

Here's just a thought. If we let our kids go and have free time - I mean real free time, no laps during their recesses that only happen at most four times a week or silent/working lunches (I mean, what the heck!) but real, honest to goodness free time- don't you think they would figure this stuff out? At recess you figure out how to resolve conflict. You figure out how to navigate the perilous waters of female social interaction and how to let go of things that aren't important because they interfere with something you want to do. Who wouldn't want to stop their schoolwork to go talk to someone at the peace table?  Anyone who has spent an hour trying to coerce kids into working understands the true masters they are at avoiding work at almost any cost. And Emily is the most accomplished master at work avoidance that I have ever seen. 

Some things can't be left in the hands of children, but I contend that a far greater number of things can be than we allow. Kids don't learn well while being micromanaged. I don't either. You need to teach correct principles and then let them go. Let them skin knees, get into little tussles with friends that they have to figure out. And for heaven's sake let them learn to entertain themselves. They need to not need you. 

As scary as that thought is.