The view from my couch

It's cold. It's raining. The sun has barely made its presence known.

But inside our little home, it's warm, and cozy. The fireplace is humming. Books are being read. Scarves are being knit. Children are laughing. Cookies are being nibbled.

Yeah. I'm blessed.

He is there

I read Danielle's blog post at 6 Year Med today, and I cried. I cried and I cried ... because that little girl, well ... she was my Oli. My dear, precious, sweet little Oliver.

The little bits that I know about Oliver's life before "coming into care" (as we say in the fostering world) come from a stack of medical files that I never should have been given. A social worker plopped them in my lap at a case meeting, and I realized right away what a gold mine I'd been given. Pages and pages and pages of completely irrelevant, minuscule details about Oli's physical state from birth to 7 months of age. I probably should have handed them right back. But I didn't. I held onto them. And in a quiet moment alone, I pored over them with a fine tooth comb, holding my heart in my throat as I stared into the dark little places where I had not been able to kiss boo-boos or soothe tears.

Oliver's birthparents, like the mother in Danielle's blog post, had a habit of literally dropping him in the ER. When his life was still numbered in weeks, he was deposited, like so much spare change, in the repository of institutional care that the hospital offered. The careful, professional notes made by countless nurses/angels who watched over him pierce my soul anew every time I ponder them:

"Mother contacted by phone and advised of patient's status. Mother asked that she not be called again until her son was ready to be discharged."

"Father visited baby for forty minutes, and spent the entire time playing with his cell phone. Was not interested in interacting with baby."

"Mother said patient had been vomiting for three hours. Left immediately after child admitted."


I read these things, and they make me mad. I'd like to think it's a righteous anger. I picture Oli, skin and bones, swimming in a cage-like hospital bed, hooked to tubes and monitors. I imagine sweet, soft-faced nurses leaning over him and whispering, "It's o.k., baby. You're all right." I pray that he heard these gentle words, and that they took root in his tiny soul.

I hope beyond hope that someone, anyone, took the time to hold him. In the rush of the night, in the chaos of the job ... I pray that a few moments were stolen where Oli's head rested on a loving shoulder, and that he felt hands that brought soothing comfort in the midst of it all. I pray that someone took the prompting to be God's hands, even as He was pouring out His heart for that hurt, sick little boy.

Some day, I hope to meet the angels God placed in Oli's path as he journeyed to us. I'd love to wrap my arms around the men and women who took note, the ones who saw wrong and wanted to make it right. I want to thank them for standing up and being counted. I want to thank them for my son's life.

Maybe I'll meet them here, in this life. Maybe I will meet them in heaven.

God places people in our path every day who make a difference. Maybe it's the person who does the obvious: the doctor who admits the broken baby to the hospital, calls Child Protective Services, and files a report. Sometimes it's the people we don't even notice, though. The person who bags the bread on top, so it doesn't get crushed. The elderly lady at the library who smiles and pats our back, telling us how it blesses her to see such a beautiful family.

God's hand is in all of it. HE IS PRESENT. Don't doubt it for a minute.

Our God is in the business of healing, rescuing, and restoring. He is a just and mighty god. And yet ... He cares even for the tiniest among us. The forgotten. The babies whose parents can't even be bothered to set foot in their child's hospital room.

He is there. Let us not forget.

Jeremiah 31

"At that time," declares the LORD, "I will be the God of all the clans of Israel, and they will be my people."

This is what the LORD says:
"The people who survive the sword
will find favor in the desert;
I will come to give rest to Israel."

The LORD appeared to us in the past, saying:
"I have loved you with an everlasting love;
I have drawn you with loving-kindness.

I will build you up again
and you will be rebuilt, O Virgin Israel.
Again you will take up your tambourines
and go out to dance with the joyful.

Again you will plant vineyards
on the hills of Samaria;
the farmers will plant them
and enjoy their fruit.

There will be a day when watchmen cry out
on the hills of Ephraim,
'Come, let us go up to Zion,
to the LORD our God.' "

This is what the LORD says:
"Sing with joy for Jacob;
shout for the foremost of the nations.
Make your praises heard, and say,
'O LORD, save your people,
the remnant of Israel.'

See, I will bring them from the land of the north
and gather them from the ends of the earth.
Among them will be the blind and the lame,
expectant mothers and women in labor;
a great throng will return.

They will come with weeping;
they will pray as I bring them back.
I will lead them beside streams of water
on a level path where they will not stumble,
because I am Israel's father,
and Ephraim is my firstborn son.

"Hear the word of the LORD, O nations;
proclaim it in distant coastlands:
'He who scattered Israel will gather them
and will watch over his flock like a shepherd.'

For the LORD will ransom Jacob
and redeem them from the hand of those stronger than they.

They will come and shout for joy on the heights of Zion;
they will rejoice in the bounty of the LORD—
the grain, the new wine and the oil,
the young of the flocks and herds.
They will be like a well-watered garden,
and they will sorrow no more.

Then maidens will dance and be glad,
young men and old as well.
I will turn their mourning into gladness;
I will give them comfort and joy instead of sorrow.

I will satisfy the priests with abundance,
and my people will be filled with my bounty,"
declares the LORD.

This is what the LORD says:
"A voice is heard in Ramah,
mourning and great weeping,
Rachel weeping for her children
and refusing to be comforted,
because her children are no more."

This is what the LORD says:
"Restrain your voice from weeping
and your eyes from tears,
for your work will be rewarded,"
declares the LORD.
"They will return from the land of the enemy.

So there is hope for your future,"
declares the LORD.

TOS Review: Gymathtics

I'll just be blunt: Jo, Atticus, and Logan were not impressed with Gymathtics. And nothing I did made it any better.

I read the back of the dvd box to them as Jo popped the disc into the player.

"It says it's multi-sensory learning ... helps you retain math concepts ... a whole lot of those basic skills ... things you really need to know ... and you get to move a lot! Won't that be cool?"

Logan eyed the television skeptically as cheerful, upbeat children began a follow-the-leader type exercise routine with a mathematically-inspired flair.

"Can you make your body into the shape of a square?" the mom on screen asked her bevy of wide-eyed, adoring, and enthusiastic kids as they began a new concept.

"No, I can't," Atticus answered.

I tried to play along, feigning excitement with the grating cheer of it all. I got down on the floor and pulled Oliver onto my lap, which is when I noticed ...

He loved it. Absolutely thought it was the greatest thing since the Wiggles. I'm not joking. He happily moved along with the older kids on the screen, and bobbed his head to the beat. I don't think he's any closer to knowing how triangles are constructed but hey, he had fun for half an hour.

So apparently, even though the folks at Gymathtics think they have a 2nd-5th grade math product on their hands, what they're really selling is a $24.99 educational/exercise program for preschoolers.

Disclaimer: I was given a free copy of this product for review purposes. Refer to my general disclaimer for more information on my policies regarding reviews.

Mary Grace and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day

You ever wake up in one of those moods?

I do.

Not very often ... but sometimes. Usually it's because before my eyes even open, my brain is already rattling through a whole list of things that I need to get done.

Gosh, I hate that.

But it happened to me this morning.

First thing in the morning--6 a.m., bright and early--my eyes slid open and BOOM! There was my to-do list. It was almost as if it was written on the ceiling, it was that clear.

At-home therapy appointment for Oliver. (ugh)
Phone call with birthparents. (sigh)
Check in on my mom, who just had surgery. (ugh)
Schedule Manolin's 18 month check-up. (do I have to?)
Oliver's speech assessment. (whine)
Atticus to Karate. (ugh)

And on and on. You get the point.

So my attitude was poor from the get-go. And yes, I had a bad day. And the thing was, I knew I was having a bad day because I was in a bad mood. I just couldn't seem to do anything about it.

I hate that. I hate it when my brain can't seem to shake the general yuck and grab onto some joy. I want to give thanks in all circumstances. But the truth is ... sometimes I whine. Sometimes I whine a lot.

And today I was the Queen of Whine. School barely got done. I checked off my to-do list but, buddy, I was not happy about it. I even got two really cool boxes of books that did nothing for me.

But tomorrow ... tomorrow I'm going to wash that grey right out of my hair. I've decided that it's a no-whine zone. I'm going to be happy.

Because just like I decided today that I was going to be in a foul m odd, I figure I can decide that tomorrow is shiny happy day. Why not? I'll let you know if it works.

So easy, it's sinful

Remember my commitment to make more gifts this year? Well, I'm doing it! I'm actually, satisfactually doing it! YEAH, me!

Today's little tutorial features Jo making gifts for her friends. If you or your daughter is likely to be on Jo's gift list, please do my girl a favor and keep this dark, o.k.? She's really excited about her little craft spree, and if her mom managed to ruin the surprise factor with her blog, of all things ... well, it would be drama. ((insert eye roll here)) And the last thing a 12 year-old girl needs is more drama.

O.k., on to the gift ....

BOOKMARKS!!!

When Jo saw the link to the elastic bookmarks, she was smitten. And why not? It's truly the ultimate gift for a homeschooled pre-teen--at least most of the ones we know. I was planning on making some of these as well, but Jo wanted to dive right in so I handed the reins to her. We went to our local craft shop, got some simple supplies, and tried it out. Turns out, they're so easy that you really have to make half dozen of the things in order to fill up any time at all. Really. They're that easy. But don't take my word for it. I've got pictures to prove it.

Supplies:
charms (Jo bought nice ones at $9.99 for a pack of three. Most were far cheaper, but it was her money so hey, buy what you want kid!)
elastic cording ($1.79 for enough to make a dozen or so bookmarks)
optional: jump rings (if your charms didn't come with them) Does the charm face forward on a string? If so, it doesn't need a jump ring.




And away we go---

1. Measure and cut about 15 inches of elastic cording.


2. Slide on a charm.


3. Knot the cording just above the charm.

4. Knot the loose ends at the top. Trim to even the cording.


5. You made a bookmark! Simply slide it around the book and enjoy.



I told you it was easy. It's also überpractical and cute to boot! Who wouldn't want one of these?

On grace

Do you ever notice that the one person who seems to zero in on all of your faults, the one person who gleefully calls you on the mat, the one person who nags you when you stumble is ...

You?

Yeah, it's like that for me, too. I am my own harshest critic. I am the one who points out my shortcomings, who sighs dejectedly when goals are not met, who brings out the wet noodle when things go undone. I am the one who sees that the floor has not been vacuumed. I am the one who tells guests at the front door to please excuse the fact that I have a living room overrun with small plastic whatnots. I am the one who sees the science book lying there, untouched, and chastise myself for failing to make time. Again.

I strive to be the perfect wife, mother, and homeschooler. Of course, I can't be any of those things perfectly. I'm lucky to even be a good wife to my deserving husband, a passable mother to my fabulous kids, and the kind of teacher that I want to be. I constantly walk around with the knowledge that life is a delicate balance. Ample portions must be placed neatly on each platter. This one is for my husband: I'll give him time, encouragement, love, support, respect, and a house that he will be proud to come home to at night. This one is for my children: I'll give them love, cuddles, discipline, gentle words, security, joy, and fun. This one is for my role as a homeschooler: here I place my self-discipline, my creativity, my intellect, the flames of curiosity, and all the patience I can muster.

All it takes it one slight nudge in any direction for everything to swing out of balance. Too much in the way of fun for the kids, and the self-discipline needed to accomplish those school goals can fly out the window. Too much time invested in helping my husband with the practical stuff, and I might just have to shuffle my kids off in front of the television for a half hour. And wait just one doggone minute here! Where's my plate?!?!

It's a balance. It's hard work. And it's heart work.

I really need to give myself more leeway and grace. I need to make sure I'm in line with God's will, and trust that the rest will follow. I need to tune into Him, and trust that He will provide the details as I move to be the woman He wants me to be.

If only I could quiet that nagging voice. "You're doing it wrong. So-and-so is so much better at that than you are. Are you sure you're cut out for this?"

And here's where I'm going to cut to the chase and throw open the doors to my heart:

Sometimes, the voice I hear isn't my own. Sometimes that voice belongs to my fellow homeschooling moms.

At some point, somewhere along the journey, many of us begin to feel like we've figured it out. We hit our stride (even if it's just for a season), and things are working well. Our husbands are madly in love with us and delight in our every word. Our children are impeccably behaved, cute as buttons, and geniuses to boot. Homeschooling is a joy, and we can't wait to begin each day's adventure in education.

And we start to think that we have discovered the secret. You know--The Way To Do It.

So, of course, we tell others.

We pass on tips on homemaking, housekeeping, being the perfect wife, child training, selecting curriculum, selecting a church, you name it. We rattle off reading lists, mention specific scriptures, talk about speakers we've heard. But instead of simply offering granule of life experience, we add a small caveat to our gleanings. It's usually completely unspoken, but it's there. It's judgement.

If you don't wear dresses all the time, you're not conservative enough.
If you don't have a dozen kids, you're not a good enough mother.
If you don't joyfully submit to your husband 100%, you're not a good enough wife.
If you don't wake up at 4 a.m. for a 2 hour prayer-time, you're not a good enough Christian.
If you don't do school for six hours a day, you're not a good enough homeschooler.

"Did you see how her son acted at co-op? Awful. You know, I'm so glad that we have a first-time obedience policy. My kids never act that way, because they know we mean business."

"I heard they're having marital problems. If she would just stop trying to run the family, they'd be fine."

"I doubt they even actually homeschool at all. They seem to be involved in every activity coming and going."

For some reason, homeschooling and legalism seem to walk hand in hand quite often. And the truth is, legalism is appealing. It seems to offer the one charted course that leads to the safe, soft-focus destination called Perfection. There are rules and order in legalism. There are Scriptures with very definitive takes on very specific things. There are clear-cut right ways and clear-cut wrong ways. Go this way and it will all turn out. Veer off course and-- you're told--you'll hit the rocks. And really, who doesn't want a guide book that promises to make everything in your life turn out just so?

I have struggled with legalism. I have looked at my own life, with it's bruised apple spots, and thought that maybe the answer could be found in a certain attitude toward my husband, or a particular form of femininity. I have watched as my children have grown, and I have feared life's ups and downs for them, wondering if perhaps erecting certain fences in our family might spare them from future pain.

For a season, those things seem to bear fruit. And then, invariably, I hear that still, small voice asking me the question that never fails to bring my carefully constructed perfection crumbling down:
What about grace?

What about grace, indeed? Pursuing righteousness and holiness is a noble and good task. Bathing your family in the goodness of God, instructing your children in His words, being in the world but not of it ... these are all things that the Lord commands us to do.

But He also asks one other thing of us as we walk the path that leads, ultimately, to His mansion for us:

Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing. --1 Thessalonians 5:11

My fellow homeschoolers, we all fight the feelings of defeat and insufficiency that lead us to look at our days and wonder why God chose us. Please, instead of adding to that chorus of pain with more baggage and assumptions, can't we instead give a good report of one another? Can't we look at the harried mom of two kids who is trying to make it work and pat her on the back without pointing out that we have six kids and are getting by just fine? Can't we quit turning up our noses at the wife whose husband has no interest in being a leader of anything, let alone their home? Can't we drop the co-op dress codes that make it seem as if Jesus wouldn't be caught dead in a room devoid of denim jumpers?

Can't we extend grace?

Because frankly, we need it. We need it from ourselves, we need it from our friends and, most of all, we need it from God. The thing is--the Lord offers it new every morning. It's the rest of us who haven't gotten the memo.

I'm working on grace right now--for myself and for those around me. I'm praying that God gives me His eyes, and His love. And maybe, maybe ... just a little bit of His grace and mercy to pass around.

CUP KEEPERS! It's a craft! A potential Christmas gift! And a large family organization tool ... all in one!

While looking around for easy-to-make, lovely-to-give Christmas goodies last week, my eyes fell on something that is-- in our house at least--so mundane as to go completely unnoticed. Our Cup Keeper Charms!

What on earth is a Cup Keeper Charm, you ask yourself? It's my answer to the endless frustration of trying to fit half a bazillion little plastic cups into the top rack of the dishwasher. It's my way of stopping the bickering over who had what cup before it even starts. And, most importantly, it's my way of never, ever having to say, "Who had the Red Robin cup? Old Spaghetti Factory? Come on, guys ... think!" again.

The sheer joy of it!

Several years ago, I decided to commit to the color coding scheme for my growing brood. Everyone was assigned a color: Jo is purple. Atticus is blue. Logan is green. Oliver is orange. Manolin is yellow. There, easy enough. Now all I had to do was locate cups and plates in these colors, and we were good to go.

I found the necessary items, set out the rules ("Use your color.") and went about my business. Cracks began to show right away, however. Sometimes the plates were in the dishwasher. What to do then? And the cups were too tall for the table, really; nary a meal seemed to pass when someone wasn't accidentally toppling over a cup they'd filled too full of water. It was a great system, but one that didn't really work for us. So I slowly abandoned it, and we went back to trying to jam the 50 cups a day that my kids seemed to go through into the dishwasher.

Ugh. Back to square one.

Then it occurred to me: several years ago, my mother had purchased a set of wine charms for Mr. Blandings and I. In case you don't know what a wine charm is, it's a small wire loop decorated with beads or charms that helps guests claim their glass in a sea of look-alike stems. These were a pre-kids gift, and one that we used on fancy occasions. But for the most part, there they were--a dozen or so little loops, just waiting to be attached to the delicate stem of a wine glass. But what if---?

I grabbed one, snapped it onto the handle of one of our little tin cups (favorites of the kids) and sighed happily. YES--they worked perfectly. With almost no effort, the cup was labeled and claimed for an entire day by one person. Praise God for the little things, I tell you!

I immediately divested our shelves of anything bearing dancing birds, happy trains or other corporate logos. I filled the kids in on my plans, brought out all of the camping cups, and never looked back.

Our Cup Keeper Charms all feature various world monuments. Each one is different; it's a close-your-eyes-and-draw surprise every morning to see who gets to go visit what amazing site for the day. The kids easily remember who has what charm, and we never have to do a roll call on abandoned cups left on the table. Here's the Taj Mahal:




As you can see, it's a very, very simple little thing. Just a loop, a couple of beads, and a charm. You can also easily make them without charms--just adding a single colored bead would be enough to mark a cup. As a matter of fact, Oli uses a Cup Keeper with just one bead as a way of learning his colors. Today, he's BLUE. Tomorrow, he might be GREEN. He thinks this is very, very cool.

These work with any cup that has a handle, so there's no need to go out and buy a whole new set of mugs just to use this little system. That might make a nice touch if you're making some to be gifted, however. I have a family in mind for a set this Christmas, and I'm planning a jaunt to Ikea for some plain but pretty mugs to fill with goodies, then we'll be presenting each child with a Cup Keeper as part of his/her gift.

Here's what you need:


Charms (ours were $3.99 for a dozen)
Jewelry Hoops ($1.29 for a dozen)
Double rings ($1.99 for three dozen), if needed
Beads (we had some already)
Needle-nose pliers

How to do it:

If your charms don't have the kind of hole that allow them to face forward, you'll have to slide them onto the double rings first. This was actually the trickiest part, and requires you to kink them open a bit with the pliers. Once you've done that, the rest is so easy that my two year-old was able to do it. Simply open a hoop and slide a few beads, a charm, and a couple more beads onto it. Using the pliers again, bend the end of the wire hoop slightly so that the decorations don't slide off. Hook onto a cup. And that's it!