Education & Character

I think about it a lot - this tipping of the scale, a fragile balance. Because I teach my children at home, everything they learn, they will learn from me. So I pile the books high. Numbers spill off the math pages and into our conversation. And we do, do, do in effort to learn, learn, learn.

I want them to be intelligent, thoughtful, wise. I want them to solve problems and think deeply. I want them to succeed.

And it's true, education is important.

But lately I hear another whisper, deeper still in my heart. What is education without character?

"Education without values, as useful as it is, seems rather to make man a more clever devil." - C.S. Lewis

So we ebb and flow in the tension. Knowledge and Virtue. We pepper our lessons with truth, with scripture, with prayer. And I lay it at the feet of the One who made mind and heart. May He cause both to bear fruit.

"Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up. The man who thinks he knows something does not yet know as he ought to know. But the man who loves God is known by God." 1 Corinthians 8:1-3

Oh that my children would love God and be known by God so that all this knowledge can be put to good use - to holy use.

One Dozen Eggs

It was an accident.

I know that. He was just trying to help. But it doesn't stop the flush of anger as I see the golden puddle spreading across the counter and dripping to the floor.

I want to yell. I want to, so I can't.

I send him to his room instead. To think. To wait for my heart to soften.

One dozen eggs. That's how many it takes to feed this brood of growing, boisterous little boys.

It takes two towels to soak up the eggs, and a third to wipe off the sticky mess. Towels tossed in laundry already piled high. Crack open another twelve eggs and whisk a little too hard, still angry.

But I think, as I pour them into frying pan, that the heart of my son is worth more than a dozen eggs.

And it was just an accident.

So I call him from the room and cup his little chin in my hand. "Next time you'll ask mommy for help, right?"

He nods. Smiles. Dimples form craters in his cheeks. A sigh of relief. "I love you mommy."

"I love you too."

More than a dozen eggs.

Moments

Homeschooling four (ok, technically just two) little boys is a mixed bag of blessings and burdens. It is hard and wonderful all at once. But there are moments that I get a glimpse of my children just as God sees them: full of life and wonder and beauty.

Even if they are dancing in the rain.

In their underwear!





Hey, we don't often get rain in this dry Texas town, so it is a major cause for celebration! And if you had the process the amount of laundry I do, you'd make them strip down to their skivvies too.

All's well that ends well, however, and we had a great school lesson on rain afterwards. Isn't that the point of homeschooling: to learn and experience?

Father's Day Pictures - Belated Post

Every year on Father's day I give my husband the same gift. This traditional has become so special and so important to him that I never miss it. Although the gift itself stays the same, the content of it changes. You see, each year I have pictures taken of our boys in one of Ashley's white button down shirts. I plan to do this until they leave home - until they grow into men of character, faith, and integrity just like their father. And in the mean time we have the privilege of watching them grow, watching them change, and watching them become who they will be.

Here are a few of my favorite pictures from this year:











We are slowly building traditions into our the fabric of our family. We are learning ways to honor one another and celebrate the season of life we are in. This is how we stop each year - on Father's Day - and acknowledge that God has been good to us. These pictures are physical markers pointing to the wonder of life, the magic of childhood, and the God who gives abundantly.

How To Raise Discerning Readers

Talk to any other parent and the subject is bound to come up: what do you expose your children to and what do you protect them from? Books. Movies. Music. Influences abound in our culture and so do the choices that parents must make.

As a writer, books are very important to me. I want my children to be well-read and discerning. I want them to be exposed to many different types of writing, genres, and authors. I want them to love books and love writers - even if those writers don't love Jesus.

So how does a parent teach their children to discern what is true and good as they sample widely from a world full of words? Here are a few thoughts:

Establish a Track Record of Reading to Your Children: a love of literature is Caught, not Taught. Read to your children often. If you love reading, chances are they will love it as well.

Establish Relationship With Your Children: when your children know they are loved, they will trust your values - thus your choices in literature and your opinions as well.

Ask Questions: after finishing a book, ask your children questions and help them learn to think about what they just heard/read. Was that character good or bad? Why? What did you like about the book? What didn't you like? If you had written the book would you have changed anything? Why? Do you think God would be pleased or saddened by what that character did?

Read Age Appropriate Books: emotional, spiritual, mental, and physical development all play into what books should be read and when. Allow your children to read a variety of books, but not necessarily right now. Wait until they can think through the messages. For now they may be perfectly content to read picture books and easy readers. They may not be ready for anything heavier. (Mine certainly aren't. We are content to read the simple things right now).

Prepare More, Protect Less: as your children grow, switch gears from protection to preparation. Jesus didn't protect his disciples from the world, he prepared them for it.

My boys are very little right now, so it is good for me to closely guard everything they are exposed to. But over the coming months and years I will slowly loosen that grip and make sure they are prepared for the world that awaits them when they leave our home.

Teach Them HOW To Think, Not WHAT To Think: You will not always be able to filter what your children read (or see or hear for that matter). They must be able to form solid judgments when you are not present and they won't be able to do that unless you teach them how.

I don't want my boys to be dependent on my opinions. I want them to be able to form their own. Again, one of the best ways to do this is ask questions - and listen to the answers. Give your children the freedom to have a different opinion. In my home there are two camps: those who like Mac N' Cheese, and those who don't. Those who dislike it (London and I) are not made to feel stupid by those who do (Daddy, Parker, and Marshall). Though Mac N' Cheese is hardly controversial, I want my boys to have the freedom to like something I don't. I pray that respect of preference will extend to books and movies and music as well.

Point Them To True North: we all need a compass and the most reliable one is the Bible. We read a lot of Bible Stories around here. My kids know about Daniel and the Lions Den. They know about Noah, and Sampson, and Elijah. They know that king Ahab was killed in battle by and arrow and that dogs licked up his blood afterward (such a boy story - they LOVE battles and heroes and bad guys). As I read to my children, and teach them to read, my central goal is teaching them right from wrong. If they can grasp that, then I will not fear what they read because they will have discernment. The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.

Our Summer Unplugged - Day Something or Other

Let me explain why I have failed in my pledge to keep the television off for the summer. I can sum it up in one word: knee.

It's toast. Up until yesterday I feared surgery may be in my future. My kneecap is loose, shifty, and popping. My new fashion accessory is a knee brace and I sincerely hope that limping is the new strut.

The moment my boys realized that mommy can't chase them, it was over. They can sniff weakness a mile away. Thus the reason I've had to compromise a bit this week.

I feel very comfortable leaving the television off and encouraging my children to find other activities but I didn't think that was totally fair to the two babysitters we had this week. So we let them watch a movie while we were gone. And yesterday morning my boys found an old VSmile learning game in the hall closet and I let them set it up in their room. Plus fifteen minutes of Pop Eye after a VERY long playdate today (thank you Ann!).

Phew. I feel like I've confessed.

Yet despite these setbacks, we will continue unplugged to the best of our ability. I love what I'm seeing in my children so far. They haven't played this well together in a very long time. They are pulling books off the shelf and bringing them to me. Not to mention the fact that Ashley and I have been able to tackle several projects around the house that we've been putting off.

So even though we're limping along, we continue to make progress and we continue to spend as much time together as we can. I consider it success so far.

Our Summer Unplugged - Day 6

I don't have many regrets about my life. Given the choice I'd do everything the same, with two exceptions:

1. My husband and I didn't kiss until our wedding day. (Looonnnggg story. Our intentions were great but we sure missed a lot of good make-out time. It seems as though marriage and making out are mutually exclusive).

2. I ran a marathon nine years ago and did substantial damage to my knees in the process.

What, you say, does any of that have to do with turning off the tv for a summer? Honestly, I just like to gripe about the kissing thing. But the running is relevant. Let me explain.

Although a marathon is only 26.2 miles (I use the word "only" quite loosely - right Steph?), you have to run hundreds of miles in preparation for that one excruciating event. And let's just say that I was never actually a "runner" prior to that foolhardy decision. As a matter of fact, I distinctly remember having this conversation with my friend and marathon buddy Stephanie at mile 13:

"What are we doing? We're not runners!" Said while huffing up one of Nashville's many hills.

(Side note: we ran the innaugural marathon and the next year they changed the course because it was too difficult due to the excess number of hills. My luck.)

Steph laughed at me. "I don't know. I just wanted to get in shape for soccer. I totally didn't sign up for this."

Why we kept running, and didn't stop, is beside me. "Yeah," I said. "We're SO not runners."

About this time a very irritated man piped up behind us: "Will you two shut up already. You're running a marathon. You're runners!"

Well, one unintended side affect of putting my body through that was my knees started to sound crunchy soon thereafter. Then they started popping when I stood up or stretched.

Fast forward nine years to a summer when I decide that I should be playing with my children more and watching television less. So I teach my son to ride a bike. And I start taking really long walks with my children. And spending hours a day on the trampoline. And playing soccer with the dog.

No big deal, right? Well, apparently you need your knees for all of those activities and mine have revolted. Or to be more precise, my left knee has revolted. I got out of bed this morning and was greeted by a swollen knee the size of a grapefruit.

It doth protest this new initiative. Problem is, the plan relies on me being active with my little yahoos.

So does anyone have ideas on how to entertain children while sitting still?

Our Summer Unplugged - Day 4 (Recap)

Yesterday was a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.

Note to self: (and others) if you're going to go unplugged have a PLAN!

So far today isn't looking up, but I'll be back later for a more thorough assessment.

I'll leave you with some good news: two brave souls have stepped forward and joined me on this totally insane experiment. Thanks to Alisa (who I'd love to meet one day) and Steph (who I'm honored to call friend)!

Our Summer Unplugged - Day 3

So what do you want first, the good news or the bad news? Here goes:

Good News: I haven't turned on the television in over 48 hours.

Bad News: My children are still in denial.

Like clockwork, my bedroom door swung open this morning to the tune of "Can we watch cartoons?"

"No. We're unplugged."

I could hear him frowning. But he didn't argue. If nothing else, I'm going to stick with this until they stop asking!

So what have we been doing with all this extra time we have? Well, for one thing, my oldest son learned to do this today:





But I'll be honest. It's not all roses and sunshine around our house. I am SO stinkin' tired. I mean whooped. Like beat down. Drawn and quartered. Flat out exhausted. This whole "being available to your children all the time" business is no joke. It took two cups of coffee this afternoon to bring me out of a semi comatose state.

And I'm realizing that it is MUCH easier to turn on Tom & Jerry while I make their lunch than it is to field 92 questions, referee a water fight, and pick boogers off the ceiling (don't ask) while making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

Speaking of boogers...if you have a child who happens to eat them (not that I would know anything about that of course) there is a sure fire way to cure that habit in ten seconds flat: threaten that the next time you catch them eating a snot wad, they'll have to eat one of yours. It's genius. And the best part: you'll never have to follow through with your threat. Or so I hear anyway, because, eh hem, it's just my theory...

Moving on...

One thing I want to do this summer is spend more time reading to my kids. For a writer, it's pathetic how little I do that. So I've started small - mostly because my almost-two-year-old brings me this book fifteen times a day. We call it the Googley-Eyed-Dinosaur-Book.

Anyway, I've noticed a recurring phenomena the last three days. Marshall will find me somewhere in the house, hand me the book, and say, "This." (I assume as his way of asking me to "read this.")

So I start the now memorized rhyme: "Ten little dinosaurs bouncing on the bed. One fell off and broke his head. Mamma called the doctor, and the doctor said, 'No more bone heads jumping on the bed.'"

And then it happens: the patter of little feet as my other children seek us out.

By the time I've reached page three, two more little boys are in my lap and they're muttering along with me, "Eight little dinosaurs muching on a mooth, Tyrannosaurus chomped and broke his tooth. The dentist shouted from the dentist booth, 'No more sharp-tooths munching on a mooth!"

Don't ask what a "mooth" is because I have no clue. But they seem to love the idea of dinosaurs needing dental work. And I love the fact that every time I start to read this book they seek me out and join along.

The second to last page is London's favorite. I start, "Two little dinosaurs watching baseball, Saurolophus yelled..."

(This is where London yells)...'Hey, that's a bad call!' The umpire didn't like that talk at all. No more big mouths watching baseball."

So I have a fun little challenge for those of you too skeptical to join me on this insane adventure. (And I've had NO takers by the way. I stand alone. But since I'm going to pass out from exhaustion anyway, that might not be a bad thing. Someone has to catch me after all.) Here's what I want you to do:

Pick YOUR favorite children's book, find a comfy spot near your kids, and start reading it out loud. See if they don't snuggle up next to you. And then enjoy the moment.

And if that's no fun to you, you're welcome to start taking bets on how long it will take for me to go totally gray.

Our Summer Unplugged - Day 2

Merriam Webster's Dictionary defines "withdrawal" in several ways:

1 a: the act of taking back or away something that has been granted or possessed (b): the discontinuance of administration or use of a drug (i.e. television in my case) (c): the syndrome of often painful physical and psychological symptoms that follows discontinuance of an addicting drug (i.e. television again) (d): a pathological retreat from objective reality

Which brings me to this self imposed scientific experiment: Day 2 without electronic entertainment.

6:45 this morning...

The middle hinge on my bedroom door needs oiling. I think of this often - usually when my children sneak into my room in the middle of the night, or as my oldest son did this morning. We would have fixed it by now, but it's a good alarm system - if you know what I mean.

"Mommy, can I watch cartoons?"

"Sure. Whatever," I mumbled, burying my face in the pillow.

I am a firm believer that no day should start before 10:00. My children never got that memo and I've been racing to keep up with them ever since. All four of them have an internal alarm clock set for the "Butt Crack" of dawn.

It took a few seconds before the electric shock registered in my brain. Before I knew it, I was running down the hallway, shouting at the top of my lungs, "No, no, no! We're unplugged you can't turn that thing on. I blogged about it!" (Which is why I blogged about it by the way, because I have an over active sense of conscience and I'd never stick with this crazy experiment otherwise).

The one child still asleep woke up screaming in fright. My husband was laughing at me, and not one, but two, children shouted in unison, "We want to plug back in!"

Oh my.

Which brings me back to the definition of withdrawals above. I am now certain that option D, "A pathological retreat from objective reality" is the best description of what I have done.

But I will not be deterred. For Pete's sake, we didn't even have a television until I was 12 years old and even then it was a ten inch black and white doo-hicky with knobs (Long story. My parents were Woodstock rejects and my childhood can best be described as Laura Ingles meets the Hippie Movement - but I digress).

I fed my children breakfast. I'm sure of that. But I don't remember much about the meal.

By 8:30 I'd finally woken up and was feeling somewhat emboldened. So I did something I have never done in all my years of parenting: I took all four children on a mile-long walk by myself.
Picture this: one mommy with a five-month old baby strapped into the baby carrier. My almost-two-year old in the stroller. And the other two walking along side.

The first 3/4 of a mile was fun. The last leg of our journey - not so much. But we made it home safe and sound and my boys were whooped.

The most interesting part of our walk occurred during a handful of conversations. We ran into a few people we knew. I'm not sure if they were shocked to see me out and about (I'm a back yard kinda gal - fences are good) or to see me with so many children. I like to stir things up, so I told them about my plan to go unplugged all summer.

Most of them laughed at me and retorted with a variation of, "Good luck with that."

"You can't raise children without television these days," my neighbor said.

"Why on earth would you want to do a thing like that?"

Only one person encouraged me - and even then, she was tentative. "Well, I think kids watch too much tv these days, anyway."

Are we really that dependent on television as a society? Really? I knew this was a bit unconventional but I didn't realize it qualified as crazy. We unplugged 27 hours ago and we're still alive. Happy, even - albeit with slight withdrawals.

Since yesterday I have found one unexpected blessing and one unexpected problem with our experiment:

The Blessing: After we put the kids in bed, Ashley and I decided that maybe we should extend the challenge to ourselves (not something I had originally planned on). So instead of watching old re-runs we painted the kitchen and talked until 11:30.

The Problem: I've yet to take a shower today. I normally put on a video, put the baby down for a nap, strap the little guy into his kid sized rocking chair, plug the boys in, and escape for a few mintues. I realized at about 8:00 that no tv meant no shower. I'll have to figure that one out. My kids are cute and all but there's not way I'd trust them to roam around the house without supervision.

Long post but short story. It's not so bad....yet.

And I got some validation a few minutes ago when my four-year-old asked if he could watch a video. My six-year-old answered for me, "No Parker, we're unplugged."

Our Summer - Unplugged

I woke this morning, eyes blurry and mind thick. The numbers on my digital alarm clock showed the time, 5:57, in neon blue. And then I heard it: a noise in the living room. Muffled. But distinct.

"Babe," I groaned, rolling over. "It's not even six o'clock and they're already watching cartoons."

They usually ask for permission before they turn on the tv. Today they chose not to - a sign of things to come, namely entitlement and stubbornness.

That's how my day started. By seven o'clock my two oldest children were already begging for some new toy that had been advertised on the commercials eighty-five times.

By eight the whining was unbearable.

The idea occurred to me for the first time at nine o'clock. I immediately wrote it off as unrealistic.

While chatting with a friend, the idea returned, and I casually mentioned it to her. She thought it was a great idea - for me.

"I'm thinking about going unplugged this summer," I said, explaining the cartoon situation. "No tv, videos, or computer for the boys."

And then I was overcome with panic because I realized just how hard that would make my life if we went three whole months unplugged. So I started to argue with myself:

"We can't go unplugged. What if I need to get something done?"

Why don't you include your children?

"What will they do all summer?"

Do you trust them to be creative?

"I have no idea how to keep them occupied that long."

Books. Play-doh. Puzzles. Water fights. Picnics. Painting. Cooking. Trips to the library. Swimming lessons. VBS. The options are endless.

"Going unplugged will require me to be on top of things. That's hard work."

Parenting is hard work. You should have thought of that before you had children.

And so the argument went, back and forth, for well over an hour. But as I watched my boys play outside this morning I couldn't help but wonder what an entire summer without tv would be like. What would happen to their creativity? To their imaginations? As I weighed the pros and cons of this little experiment, I stumbled onto the deciding factor. A question:

"Will I ever regret unplugging the tv and the computer for one summer and letting my children play?"

No. Can't say that I will.

So after a few moments of hyperventilation, I took a deep breath, pulled the plug (literally) and went about planning what we will do for June, July, and August. Honestly, I don't have it all sorted out (I'm depending on you guys for some ideas) but I am starting to get excited.

I'm two hours into our unplugged summer and I'm expecting that this week will be detox. I'm expecting whining. And attitudes. I expect that I'll be tempted to quit. So I need you to ask me how it's going.

Before I get angry e-mails, let me explain that I don't think television is bad. I have friends that do, but I'm not in that camp. I just think that I have come to rely on it too much. It's been a long year - what with having our fourth child and my husband working 60 plus hours a week. So I want to try something new.

Here are the rules for my little experiment:

- No television.
- No computer games.
- No movies.

We don't have video games, so that's one less thing to withdraw from.

As a family we will spend more time doing the following things:

- Playing games instead of watching movies.
- Playing outside with the boys on the trampoline and in the yard.
- Going for walks and bike rides.
- Cooking, baking, and performing "kitchen chemistry."
- Reading.

I anticipate that we will ressurect those long forgotten afternoon naps for the the older two because they will be playing harder than usual.

Play. That's the word that keeps popping up here. I want this summer to be all about "Play."

So now a question: will you join me by unplugging as well? Trust me, if I can do it, you can too. For those of you brave enough to join on this wild adventure, you can click the button on the right hand side of the blog titled "follow" or you can just meet me back here a couple times a week as I chronicle this long and wonderful summer.

Someone told me recently that we only get eighteen summers with our chidren. I'm already down six. Twelve more summers and my oldest child will be gone.

No, I don't think I will regret this one little bit.

Encouragement

My first year of homeschooling is almost over and I have learned as much, if not more, than my son. I've had some very discouraging moments and also moments that I will cherish for the rest of my life.

But most importantly I've come to realize that I can do this. And my children will benefit. I have learned that the art of homeschool is about taking advantage of the little moments. It's about catching the questions as they come. Curiosity is a sign of intelligence.

This morning my two oldest children prayed to receive Christ. They were ready and I was there and it was a profound moment.

I watched them play in the backyard while I made dinner and wondered just who they will become - and what part I will play in shaping their lives. Then I stumbled across this article listing ten famous homeschoolers. The list is impressive:

- Agatha Christie
- Pearl S. Buck
- Alexander Graham Bell
- Thomas Edison
- Ansel Adams
- Robert Frost
- Woodrow Wilson
- Mozart
- Laura Ingles Wilder
- Louisa May Alcott

The article goes on to say "Louisa May Alcott studied mostly with her dad, but had a few lessons from family friends Henry David Thoreau, Ralph Waldo Emerson and Nathaniel Hawthorne. Can you imagine? "

The writer in me is giddy at this list. It was just what I needed to finish out this year with confidence.

Quadro-Mom

"Oh, you're the one with all the babies!" She shook my hand cautiously, as though fertility were contagious.

I smiled, unsure whether that was a compliment or an insult. "Yup. That's me."

So it's official. Just call me Quadro-Mom. The transition from three children to four is amazing in terms of how people perceive me. It seems I've crossed an invisible line from normal to nut-job. The reactions are even more extreme considering all my critters are boys.

I often don't know how to respond to these random comments. Reality for me is that I must take all my children with me when I run errands. I have no family in town to babysit my kids. My husband works long hours, six days a week, and most people don't feel comfortable watching four children for a friend. I usually buy my stamps at Sams because it's easier to strap a few kids in a jumbo shopping cart than drag everyone into the post office. I often save important phone calls for drive time in the van when the kids are buckled in and watching a movie. And after many trips to Wal-Mart with my crew I'm tempted to have a few tee shirts made so I can nip the inevitable comments in the bud:

"Yes I have my hands full."

"Yes I know what causes this."

"Yes they are all mine." or "I enjoy taking kids grocery shopping so much that I picked up a few spares on the way."

The truth is that it's hard to parent four very small children. It's hard to juggle diaper changes, nursing, cooking, home-schooling, cleaning, being a wife, and writing full time. It's hard. And I struggle to find the balance so I don't tip over into crazy woman mode. But I'm also learning that the most worthwhile things in life are hard.

Marriage is hard. We've had to dig deep this year and love each other on purpose.

Parenting is hard. Raising four kids is no joke and we often fall into bed with nothing left to give one another.

Writing is hard. My spare time is measured in minutes, not hours, but my third published book will come out in October - with three more in the next two years.

At the end of the day I believe that hard is good. Hard makes us better. Hard makes us work to perfect the things that matter. Hard makes us die to self and rely on God's strength, not our own.

So know this - life is hard, and I can relate.

Book Review - In The Shadow Of The Sun King

In The Shadow Of The Sun King - by Golden Keyes Parsons

In The Shadow Of The Sun King relies on historical fact and the authors' family history to weave a tale courage and faith during the Huguenot persecution in 17th century France.

This is my favorite kind of novel: history, faith, and suspense all rolled into one story. I cared about the characters from the moment I met them and I rooted for them to the very end.

Time flew by as I read about Madeleine Clavell and her struggle to free her family from the tyranny of King Louis XIV. The writing was clean and unobtrusive, allowing me into the story without interruption from the author. She did a marvelous job with setting and dialogue and I never tripped over plausibility or the outcome of her story.

My only complaint was with pacing. I would have liked the time transitions to be cleaner in a couple of places. And the ending drug on a little longer necessary.

But overall I devoured this novel over the course of one day and I feel certain you will too.

Book Review - Daisy Chain, by Mary DeMuth

This book troubled me. It stirred the waters in my heart and left me feeling restless - about the realities of the world I live in, about the consequences of sin, and about the lies we often believe. Daisy Chain peeled back the layers and let me see the truth about domestic abuse through the eyes of Jed Pepper, a young man trying to make sense of his own dysfunctional family and the disappearance of his best friend.

I live in Texas and I know the heat, the dust, and the grit that wove its way through Daisy Chain, but I lived it while reading this book, not from personal experience, but because Mary took me there with each word. Defiance, Texas, became real to me as she spun her tale of sorrow and redemption.

The characters were fresh and alive with originality. They could be neighbors or fellow church members - those I pass in the aisles of my local grocery store. Real. And gritty. And frustrating at times with their humanity.

More than anything else, I love that this story offers no pat answer, trite religion, or seamless ending. It is a beautiful portrayal of the brokenness and the redemption that go hand-in-hand in this fallen world.

A challenging must-read, worth every penny.

It's Official...

...I have a website. Please stop by and say hello.

www.arielallison.com

A Banner Day

Occasionally I have one of those days when I actually get something done. Today was one of them. Somehow, in the chaos that is my life, I managed to do the following:

- Washed and dried two loads of laundry (did I put it away? of course not).

- Took the house payment by the bank with all four kids in tow.

- Made a trip to Wal-Mart for diapers and milk (side note: I can think about Wal-Mart and fifty bucks is automatically drafted from my account...anybody else ever notice that?)

- Wrote and sent my weekly devotion for www.christiandevotions.us - it will post tomorrow.

- Did Circle Time with the kids this morning - a new habit we're trying to form.

- Nursed the baby three times already (another round coming in a few minutes).

- Taught my four-year-old to write his name.

- Did a full round of school with my Kindergartner this afternoon including: Math, Reading, Writing, and Puzzles.

- Fed and clothed five people including myself - twice!

- Swept beneath the kitchen table (the total weight of crumbs was in the pounds, not ounces, folks).

Even as I write this, I am reminded of all I have not done today. But I refuse to dwell on that because I can get so overwhelmed with all that is left on my to-do list that I forget to celebrate what I have accomplished.

Go on, celebrate with me. What did you get done today?

Re-Arranging

Families are a bit like recipes. Every time you change the ingredients, you alter the outcome. In December my family added a new ingredient - our little Colby Rigs (aka...Mr. Riggs...Big Rig...Rigsy) - and we're still adjusting to the changes.

One of the most profound areas this has affected us is with homeschool. No one would argue that it was a big ambitious to begin homeschooling for the first time while pregnant/nursing/sleep deprived. My hey, this ain't my first rodeo, so I figured I'd give it a try. And in all honesty, things have worked out very well. London is reading well above grade level. He has a solid understanding of numbers and has begun basic Math. Considering that he's a left-brained, left-handed, first-born child being taught by a right-brained, right-handed, second-born mother, I'd say things are going along tremendously!

The difficulty has come in that he's got three little brothers who are underfoot. I don't want to send them the message that I'm too busy for them, but neither do I want to constantly be distracted while I teach. So, over the course of the year we've tried various teaching times.

We started out right after breakfast at the kitchen table. That went over like a turd in a punch bowl because Marshall and Parker (Rigsy wasn't born yet) were very awake and very energetic. We had to re-arrange.

Next came teaching during late morning when Marshall went down for a nap. I'd teach in the living with London and Parker (who usually colored or worked puzzles). This worked like a charm until Marshall stopped taking his morning nap. We had to re-arrange again. But...

...I went into labor and had a baby and we decided to shelve school for a few weeks until mommy could figure out which way was up. While we were trying to get adjusted to the new recipe that is the Lawhon family, we schooled any time we could: during lunch, during assorted nap times, at night when the three youngest went to bed. Locations changed as well: the living room, London's bedroom, my bedroom, the kitchen, the trampoline, you name it.

But we have finally settled into a system that works for us during this season of life. We school in the early afternoon when the two littles nap. (That may seem obvious to some of you, but that time had been reserved for my writing up until the baby started sleeping through the night and I got more rest). Sometimes Parker joins us, and sometimes I put his four-year-old self down for a nap, depending on how tired he is and how much attitude he's giving me.

Here's the point: life is a constant shuffle. We all have to re-arrange our prioritites. And for the those of us who homeschool, we are constantly having to shift, change, blend, and adapt. Truth be told, it is exhausting. But I've also seen countless benefits: my son can learn in almost any environment. It doesn't have to quiet or calm. We can be outside, inside, or upside down (literally) and he can focus. For a boy, that's HUGE!

And I see benefits in myself as well. I've always been a pretty relaxed person, but I'm learning to go with the flow even more. On our harder days I remember the teaching goals for this year: build character, give him a solid foundation for reading and a love of books, and give him a solid understanding of numbers and their values. Art happens naturally: Play Doh, bubbles, drawing, etc. Science occurs in the kitchen when they help me cook.

We're moving forward. We're learning. And we love each other a bit more every day. When I'm honest with myself, I realize that this is what life is all about.

Justin Case

It has taken thirteen years and numerous headaches, but the children's book series I've been working on with a friend is almost ready to present to the world. In the mean time, you can visit the website to learn more about Justin and his friends:

www.ruthandtia.com

And just in case (pun intended) you're wondering why we are writing the series under the names "Ruth & Tia," it's because those were the names we were almost given at birth.

Take a look at the website and tell me what you think. And don't forget to sign up for the free newsletter. Once a month you'll get an e-mail jam packed full of parenting tips, craft ideas, and kid-friendly recipes.

Enjoy!

Grasping the Wind

There is a phrase that I've often repeated to myself in these years of raising preschoolers - "The days are long and the years are short." And that statement has remained true until recently. But now the days are short as well.

No longer does it seem like a lifetime until I feed the children lunch and put them down for a nap. Now I'm scrambling to get things done as the hour pass in a blur. I used to be annoyed when my husband came home thirty minutes late. Now I'm shocked when I hear the garage door open at six o'clock.

Remember when we were kids and it seemed like a million years from one Christmas to the next? A blink is all it takes to bring December 25th around these days.

You'd think having four children five and under would slow things to a creep for me these days. Not so. My days are evaporating like an ice cube in a frying pan. The challenge for me, and every other mommy, is to slow things down. To savor the little moments: a five-year-old learning to read, a toddler learning to sign "please," a newborn laughing in his sleep.

It all brings new meaning to the phrase "grasping the wind."

Digging Deep

When it rains, it pours. I am learning that my life is filled with extremes. Rarely do we have "normal" days around here. Everything is either right with the world or falling apart at the seams. At the moment all of my children are sick with fevers and snot and chills - except the baby (and let's pray it stays that way).

And then yesterday afternoon I got the final revisions back on my novel. I have to make my changes and get it to my editor on Monday.

So I must dig deep today (and tomorrow and the next day) and make it happen. I must and I will.

Interview - Jean Blackmer

Boy (n.): a noise with dirt on it.

- Aidian Miller, Not Your Average Dictionary Homelife Edition

Today we are joined by Jean Blackmer, publishing manager for MOPS (Mothers Of Pre Schoolers) International. She is the author of Boy-Sterous Living: Celebrating Your Loud And Rowdy Life With Sons. Jean and her husband Zane live in Boulder, Colorado, with their three sons.

I recently interviewed Jean on the topsy-turvey world of being a boy mom. Here's what she had to say:

If you were sitting across the table from a young woman, pregnant with her first son, what would you share with her?

Be ready for a great adventure; a life filled with passion, noise, laughter, and energy.

Many of my readers are moms of preschool boys. As a mother of three, do you have any tips for surviving (and thriving) during those first five years?

Choose to laugh. You probably have, and certainly will, find yourself in situations that completely throw you for a loop. For example, one day my youngest son marched out of the bathroom after completely shaving off his eyebrows! I could have scolded him about the dangers of what he'd done and been very frustrated with this situation but instead I found myself giggling because it was so outrageous. I realized he was just trying to imitate his father who shaves the hair off his face, and that was the only hair on Jake's face. So we laughed about this incident and still do. My other advice is to develop friendships with other moms raising boys. You will find great encouragement as you share with each other, and sometimes only other mothers of boys will truly understand what you're experiencing. Plus you can laugh together as you navigate new, interesting territory of living with the male species.

In your book you talk about the noise level that is part and parcel of having boys. Aside from buying a good pair of ear plugs, do you have any suggestions on either lowering the decibel level, or learning to cope with it?

Find a space of your own where you can escape the noise if you need to - for example go for a peaceful walk, or soak in the bathtub. And I think it's okay to tell the boys when they are being too loud and need to turn down the volume a bit. But be careful not to always squelch it and be a nag about not letting them be loud and rowdy at times, boys are boy-sterous!

What have you found to be the hardest part about raising boys?

Their level of energy and tendency to be very physical. My boys wrestle with just about everything, whether it's each other, their friends, our dog or even the bean bag chair. I'm constantly trying to direct their energy into healthy outlets. We did buy a trampoline and that was a great investment. I also send them outside a lot and try to keep them doing some kind of physical activity every day.

On the flip side of that coin, what have you most enjoyed about raising boys?

Experiencing life to the fullest. I've experienced things in life I don't think I would have ever done on my own accord, but the boys have brought so many new and fun experiences to my life. For example, I've jumped off 40-foot cliffs into a lake, been camping in the snow, have mountain biked up moutains I never dreamed I would be able to do. I've learned how to use a lacrosse stick, and have actually eaten chocolate covered bugs. Boys embrace life and really live it and I absolutely love that. One of my favorite verses is John 10:10. "I have come that they might have life and have it to the full." My boys have really helped me live.

I've always said that caring for one child is a walk in the park, two complicates things a bit, but you're not a real parent until you're outnumbered. My husband and I have gone from a Man-To-Man to a Zone defense. How have you learned to manage life with many sons?

You sort of just evolve into it as your family grows and they become more involved in different activities. We also try to intentional about not having a "divide and conquer" mentality all the time. We try to do things together as much as possible. It also seems like parents feel guily if they're not at every single game, but I think it's okay, and actually healthy, to not go to every single event. Sometimes you might have to watch one son's soccer game and miss another son's football game, but then next week just switch it around. Also carpools are awesome, try to make arrangements with others so you don't spend your life in your car. Creating a community to help is essential.

Attention span is another thing we struggle with in my house. I have a hard time getting my sons to sit still for a bedtime story, much less concentrate while we pray or talk about spiritual things. How can a mother utilize the God-given energy and curiosity inherent in boys to plant spiritual seeds in their life?

I love the Bible verse in Hebrews that says, "The word of God is living and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword," (Hebrews 4:12). Boys are active so teaching them about God's word can be a very energetic, active experience. The Bible is filled with romance, betrayal, adventure, miracles, redemptive love, all the attributes of a great novel - so don't let Bible teaching be boring. Make it an experience, a living, active, relational experience. There are some great resources designed just for boys such as God's Word for Boys. Also remember boys are doers, so do things with them, service projects, raking leaves at an elderly neighbors home, or go on a mission trip together if you can. This puts their faith into action and will be a life-long memory that will affect them and encourage them to do good works and serve others.

When it comes to chores, do you have any suggestions for teaching pre-school boys to help around the house? When is a good age to start and what should a mother's expectations be?

I think all moms need to lower their expectations of a tidy house, especially with boys. However, it's never too early to teach your boys to pick up after themselves. Even a big plastic bucket in the play room to put their toys into when they're done is an easy way for themto put things away - and of course it's never too early to teach them to always put down the toilet seat!

Raising a lot of little men is hard work. But as wives we would be remiss if we neglected the other man in our lives: our husband. Can you offer my readers a few ideas on keeping the romance alive in their marriages?

Date night is a must! It doesn't have to be expensive, just do fun things together, either new things or things you both enjoy. And try not to talk about the boys. In our lean financial times, we have put the boys to bed early then enjoyed a romantic dinner at home, or have ordered Chinese food and enjoyed an evening together. We've even set up a little table in our room, then we feel like we're out on a date. Be creative and be consistent.

I am dreading the day when my boys start to hit the double digits. What are some practical, hands on tips that moms can use to prepare for the adolescent years?

Raising children is a process and you are already preparing for those years just by being and doing the things your'e doing now. One of the hardest things is letting go of control, so I would suggest moms of younger boys start practicing letting go little by little and giving your boys the tools they need to navigate life as they get older and have to do more of it on their own.

At the end of the day, what is it that a mother of sons most needs to know?

God has made you this boy (or boys) mommy because you are exactly the right woman for that job! And God loves your son even more than you do (if that's possible). Trust God to ultimately take care of your boys because God is with you wherever you go and he is with your sons wherever they may go! (Joshua 1:9).


Jean, thanks for taking time out of your crazy schedule!

If anyone has a question for Jean, you can leave it in the comments section below. She'll be checking back over the next few days to field answers. To purchase her book click here:

Obediently Challenged

"Do I threaten my children or do I correct them?"

I'm forced to ask myself this question today as I struggle with two little boys who shall remain nameless. Let's just say they're "obediently challenged" right now. It plays out something like this:

"Boys, brush your teeth, get dressed, and make your beds," I tell them after breakfast. This is our daily routine. We do this every morning.

"But mommy," they whine. "I don't want to."

"Do your chores. Now."

"But...but..."

"Get to it or I'll...well...I don't know what I'll do but you won't like it."

They dawdle. They procrastinate. I remind. I cajole. I threaten, "I've told you to do your chores four times. I won't tell you again."

(Site note: I should have never let it get to this point.)

The truth is that my children have won. Delayed obedience is disobedience. And now I'm forced to deal not only with their actions, but my laziness as well.

The pendulum swings back and forth at my house. There are times that I'm really on top of training my children. I require first time obedience and they learn to give it. And then there are other times, like now, when I'm just so stinking tired that as long as everyone is fed, clothed, and sheltered, I'm satisfied.

In reality, I am as much to blame for their disobedience as they are. Kids are smart. They know what the limits are. They know just how hard to push back. I've slacked off in my parenting since we had the baby and now I'm reaping the consequences. It's time to dig deep and get the situation under control.

So here's the game plan:

1. Mommy and Daddy will be spoken to with respect: "Yes ma'am" and "Yes sir" are required. "What?" is not an acceptable response when their name is spoken.

2. When Mommy or Daddy ask you do something, it's done - right away. Failure to obey will result in a lost privilege - most likely the precious Hotwheels website.

3. Philippians 2:14 will be memorized by every speaking child in this house, "Do everything without whining or complaining."

As my friend Jessica would say, "It's time for a come to Jesus meetin'!" I am the parent after all.

Menu Plan Monday

It's been a while, but now that the baby is sleeping through the night, I've decided it's time to start planning meals again. So, in no particular order, this is what we will be eating this week:

- Grilled Chicken & Crash Hot Potatoes

- Tuna Salad & Crescent Rolls

- Brisket & Baked Potatoes (Side note on the Brisket: this makes so much that I'll freeze two thirds of it and use later for Brisket Tacos and Cowboy Nachos)

- My friend Marybeth's Roast Chicken, salad, and rolls. (The leftover chicken will go into chicken soup for next week)

- Homemade Spaghetti (recipe forthcoming) and Garlic Bread. (I make a HUGE portion of spaghetti sauce and freeze at least four batches. Saves time and money)

- Sandwiches - most likely on Wednesday night before we take the kids to AWANA's.

- The Best Chili Ever.

These are my "plans" but you know what they say about the best laid plans of mice and mommies. . .

5 Ways to Beat the Bably Blues

I have only suffered from full blown depression once in my life and it actually had nothing to do with having a baby. I do however, reach a point after each birth, somewhere between six and eight weeks postpartum, that I just get bummed about life. I'm tired. I'm grumpy. Being thirty pounds heavier than "normal" (whatever that is) doesn't help either. When I hit that stage (with newborns, toddlers, or preschoolers) there are a few things that seem to help.

- Fresh Air. It doesn't matter the temperature outside. If I can just inhale air that hasn't been circulating through my house for three days, I feel refreshed. I used to go for walks with the kids, but I now have too many to fit in the stroller and not enough bikes. So we have taken to hanging out in the back yard in the late afternoon - usually after the little ones wake up from their nap. It makes the "witching hours" go by quicker and I get my second wind. (Side note: if it's too hot or too cold, I keep the little ones inside. But I have learned that fifteen minutes of outside play will wear the older two out quite nicely. I either bundle them up or strip them down depending on the thermostat). For me this time often includes playing fetch with our Black Lab, Maggie. I don't know why, but she always makes me laugh and God knows I can use a little laughter at the end of the day.

- Exercise. I'm laughing even as I write this because the closest I've come to exercise after having Colby is jumping on the trampoline for - literally - fifteen seconds. Two problems immediately became apparent: trampolines and breastfeeding don't mix, and mommy needs to do Kegels. However, I do feel better about life in general if I can just get my heart rate up. So I play tag with the boys in the back yard (much kinder on the bladder) or walk the dog.

- Cut the Sugar. What goes up, must come down. The sugar high leads to the sugar crash and I don't need another reason to feel tired. So if I keep my blood sugar somewhat level I'm less grumpy.

- Silence. My nerves are usually shot by noon due to the noise level in our home. We have a mandatory quiet time in the afternoons while the babies sleep. That's usually when I brew a pot of coffee and sit on the couch with my laptop and write. The older two read books or play games. Recently I've been letting them go to the Hot Wheels website. It's been a big hit.

- Pray. My mother once told me that we often use prayer as a last resort when it should be our first line of defense. At Christmas I was given these cool bookmarks from Family Life Today that guide you through praying for your husband and your children. Since the first thing I do each morning is sit in bed and nurse the baby, I pray through these before I start my day. Being intentional about giving my day to God makes all the difference in the world.

I have learned that the little things are key when it comes beating the baby blues. Sometimes my spirits can be lifted by a conversation with a good friend. At other times I just need a nap. Regardless, finding a few things that settle the spirit, mind, body are essential in changing in the way we look at life.

If you have any tips for beating the blues please share.

The View From Here

This is what I saw when I looked in my rear-view mirror the other day...


...and you can read the devotion that it inspired at Christian Devotions.

Quick Update

I haven't been neglecting you. Blogger hasn't let me on for almost a week. More stuff coming tonight...

Romance vs. Reality

Today is our eighth anniversary. We should be getting ready for a romantic evening out. We should be anticipating candlelight and roses and soft music. Instead, we stand in the middle of our kitchen while our eyes roll back in our head. Pandemonium surrounds us. A five-year-old chases the dog through the house, whooping like an Indian. A four-year-old screams - that kind of scream that only bats can hear (you know what I'm talking about) - because Daddy won't let him play on the computer anymore. A one year old throws food on the floor so the dog can eat it. And the baby sleeps through it all - while sitting on the table in his bouncy seat.

This is reality for us today.

We should be going out to celebrate but we're not. And that's okay. Instead we're going to feed the kids and put them down early. Then Ashley will run out to Olive Garden (in the ice storm) and pick up dinner. We'll start a fire in the fireplace and eat our dinner on the living room floor while we watch a movie.

As parents of four boys under six, much of our day to day life revolves around reality, not romance (perhaps a good thing since we've yet to officially "close up shop"). And yet, as I watch this scene unfold before me I can't help but smile. My husband has somehow managed to get all our children seated at the table. He is supervising while they slurp soup out of spoons. (Side note: our four-year-old just fell out of his chair and dumped his soup all over the table. My husband didn't even yell.) He is refereeing a discussion about whether that green stuff in their bowls is in fact zucchini (it is). And I love him more in this moment than I ever have before.

It is a different kind of love than I experienced eight years ago today in Nashville. There is a different sort of flutter in my stomach than there was at our reception when he whispered in my ear that he called the limo to pick us up early. It's different. And it's better. Deeper and richer. Oh, we lose sight of that most days amidst the diapers and the tempter tantrums.

Our marriage isn't perfect. It's not without our share of arguments and misunderstandings. We often crawl in bed waaaayyyy too tired to have sex...or pray together...or even spoon (another dangerous proposition when you don't want to have any more children). We snap at each other at the end of long days. We're in process.

(It took me five minutes to finish that last sentence because our one-year-old grabbed his big brother's soup bowl and dumped it on the floor. Which means that big brother -who had gotten up from the table and was "jacking around" as Daddy calls it - now has to brush his teeth and go to bed. And of course it was Maggie the Wonder Dog who came to the rescue and cleaned up the mess).

Ashley and I are fond of saying that "we're in the same box." We're in this thing together. For better or worse. As I write that, I fear someone will think that we've got it all figured out. Far from it.

I heard recently that "The grass isn't greener on the other side. The grass is greener where you water it." We've been watering our grass this year and we're seeing green.

All that said, Ashley Wayne Lawhon is still the best thing that has ever happened to me. Our life - with all its ups and downs - is still the life I want to live.

(Another side note: I started writing this post over two hours ago. The kids are now in bed and my husband just got home with our dinner. And he set a lit candle on the coffee table, so I guess I'll get that candlelit dinner after all. Yes indeed, I love my life)

Deflated

There comes a time in the life of every woman when she must stand in front of the mirror and survey the damage. Prenancy is not kind on the body. At the moment I'm feeling a bit like a balloon that's been blown up and deflated one too many times.



Let's not talk about the stretch marks. Or the back fat. (I mean really, who ever signs up for back fat?!?!) Or the hail damage. Gravity, it seems, has a vendetta against me. And yet I wonder, as I make a list of what is now "wrong" with my body, who decided these things were bad in the first place.

I mean, a couple hundred years ago, this was considered beautiful:

And yet, we in America, have been told that to be beautiful, to be sexy, we must look like this:

Even when I did look like that (shocking but true) I wasn't happy. So why do we raise the bar on our ourselves? Why do we do it to other women? And why is our sense of beauty so convoluted? Stretch marks should be badges of honor: four children have grown inside of me. Four. That back fat that I so despise exists to fuel my milk supply so I can nurse my little one. (And the hail damage? Well, I see no purpose in that whatsoever!) Here's the truth: this deflated body of mine has given life. I know that. I see the proof of that every day. And still I will struggle with the fact that I am no longer who I once was on the outside. So may the inside of me grow more beautiful even as this shell of mine deflates.

Derailed

"There is no such thing as getting back on track," she said. "You're on a new track now."

Such was the wisdom given by my friend and mentor Terri Howard eight years ago. I'd just gotten married and was adjusting to a new life. I felt out of sorts. Restless.

Terri was right (she always is). There is no such thing as getting "back on track" after a major life change, whether it be marriage or childbirth. And that is exactly where I find myself these days. Nothing is in order. Everyone in our home is restless as we try to find the new normal. And it's ok to be in this place. We will eventually sort out the details. We will adjust. And we will move forward as a family of six.

But it got me thinking about how much time we spend longing for what was. We seek the comfort of the familiar. We want things to be the way they were. And we miss out on what God has for us today, in the newness.

So where has your life gotten off track lately? What new thing must you embrace? And how will you be different/better because as a result?

My "newness" is a little boy named Colby Riggs who suffers from an ever present case of colick. I've never had a fussy baby before and I must trust God to give me the grace and patience to nurture him while simultaneously caring for the four other men in my home. But His grace is sufficient for me.