Poor Kyra got poison ivy on her face– across her forehead, along her nose, around her mouth, behind her ears, down her neck.  She must’ve touched a plant when we were weeding for friends, and she scratched and rubbed for a day before I realized what it was.  Her face is deep red and leathery and swollen, and though it doesn’t hurt and barely itches, she’s embarassed because people keep looking at her; it is startlingly red.

This is the third time she’s gotten poison ivy this summer.  Her skin is so sensitive that she reacts with any amount of exposure, and even afer the rash is gone the area stays red for weeks.  And this summer, in about a month, she goes to camp for the first time, meeting tons of new friends…  And she’ll have a splotchy red face.  Ugh– I hurt for her!  I want to take it off of her body and smear it all over my own, just so she won’t have to deal with the stares and questions.

I told her that— that I’d take the rash and the allergy and put it on my own body if I could, so she could have her soft smooth skin back.  She pulled back and looked into my eyes, as if to see if I was telling the truth.  And then she smiled, and her eyes… it was like I could see how content she felt, how loved she knew she was.  That is a cherished moment for me.

I know that I would do anything for my kids.  I would die for them without even thinking about it!  …But do they know it?  Part of the beauty of unconditional love is the recipient being aware of that love, of the immensity of it.  I’m not saying to go tell your kids you’d die for them; it’s too overwhelming and beyond their comprehension.  But when was the last time you told them something deeper than the foundational “I love you”? 

I show my kids my love for them on a daily basis: the cooking and cleaning and training and activities and snuggling and treats are all because I love them.  But don’t we all need to hear it in words, too?  I love the special times that Nate brings me flowers, but to be honest it’s what he’s written in the card that fills my heart.  Try to find a way this week to tell your kids how much you love them, beyond those three little words.   

For the last 2 weeks our family has been out of whack– our schedule has been overturned by staying up late with an evening VBS and large amounts of time painting and cleaning a rental house.  I haven’t spent much time with my kids, in fun activities or even in parenting.  We’ve had a lot of fast food meals and slow-moving mornings.  I’ve been dealing with an emotional issue with a friend and I’m tired, emotionally drained, and last night I stayed up until 3 in the morning watching reruns of a sitcom wasting my brain.

And I have used all of those things as rationalization for letting things slide.  “Oh, I’ve had to ask Levi to pick up his cars from the living room again, for the 4th time.  Well, I’ll just remind him again, because after all, it was me who kept him up late last night while we finished painting at the rental.”  And ”Oh, Kyra didn’t put away the heating pad like I told her, she just threw it on the floor of my bedroom.  But I’ll just put it away for her, because she’s outside playing and I’d have to go out and call her in and wait and tell her to do the job… I’ll just do it.”  And “Oh, Josiah talked back to me, again, but I’ll just let Nate handle it when he gets home ‘cuz I’m just too tired to deal with it.”

And so today we were swimming with another family who had brought 2 friends.  Last night’s storm had sent deck chairs into the pool, so I told my kids to get them out and not put any back in– the chairs don’t belong in the pool.  But when we got ready to leave I realized there were a ton of deck chairs in the bottom of the pool… and when I asked Josiah about it, he said one of the other boys, one of the friends, had put them in. 

And that’s when I was that mom:  I just knew my son wouldn’t lie to me, not even to save his own skin, and without even asking the friend if he had done it, I yelled at him.  Don’t get confused here– I didn’t yell at my kid.  I yelled at the friend of the other family.  Angrily telling him he shouldn’t have done that and to get the chairs out of the pool.  Nice, right?  Don’t you want your kids around me?

It gets worse:  Josiah had lied.  They had all thrown the chairs into the pool and played on them.  So not only had I yelled at someone else’s kid, it was for something my own kids had done too. 

I shouldn’t be suprised, really, by my behavior or my kids’.  With my own lack of self-control and all the things I’ve let my kids get away with lately, it’s no wonder I over-reacted without assessing the situation, or that my kids disobeyed me with the pool chairs, or that Josiah sought to avoid punishment by blaming someone else.  I’ve allowed the “tone of our home” to degrade into low expectations and the path of least resistance, and today was the result. 

When I don’t use self-discipline to monitor my own behavior or to uphold the beliefs and guidelines of our family, then of course the kids will feel the reigns slackening and push against the unsteady boundaries.  I’m not excusing the wrongdoings of my children– I believe they should live as they’ve been taught no matter the circumstances– but I recognize that they will follow the lead of the parent.  If I am am cheerful, they have a more joyful attitude; if I work to do my best, they are inspired to excel; if I clearly enjoy reading my Bible daily, they will anticipate hearing God’s words to them; and if I am lazy and turn a blind eye to misbehavior, they will do just enough to get by and to not ‘get in trouble’. 

Discipline in my home starts with me.  Not with me hovering, waiting to punish my children for making a mistake, but with me visibly seeking guidance from God in my life and being a good example; with me being consistent in my expectations for them and following through every time; with me leading them and loving them the same way God leads and loves me.

I have a whole routine to keeping up with our laundry, and it really has become something I don’t dread.  In fact, it’s something that gives me satisfaction, knowing I’ve kept up with it or have it done for the day.

One of the things that makes it easier for me is a tip my sister shared with me several years ago, and it’s made a big difference in the time it takes me to do laundry.  It may sound harsh, opposite of what the matronly, ever-patient and self-sacrificing image of a mother would do… but in a way it’s a twisted modified version of the Golden Rule, and it also teaches your kids about taking care of their clothes.  The tip is simple:  *Give the clothes back the way you recieved them.*

Not exactly like you received them, granted; you return the clothes clean and folded, but if your 8-year-old always puts her dirty clothes in the laundry inside-out, then that’s how she gets them back: inside-out.  My 5-year-old gives me his pajama bottoms with one leg inside-out, every. single. time.  I could straighten out that leg each load, and it would only take me a split second.  But why?  I’m trying to teach him to take care of his things, and eventually to do his own laundry from start-to-finish.  If he can fix his pants leg before he puts it on, then he can fix it when he takes it off.

And though it would only take me a split second to fix one leg of a pair of pajamas, there’s more than one thing that needs to be ‘fixed’ per load.  I must say though, that since I began implementing this tip, there’s been a much smaller amount of clothes that are inside-out.  It seems that when they had to do it for themselves anyway, they decided to do it right away.  Hm… I like that.

Several years ago at a homeschooling conference, a speaker named Candy Summers said to do something special, some kind of small suprise, for your kids… every day!  At first I thought she was crazy, and surely way too busy with this one task.  But I kept thinking about it, and slowly began experimenting.

I started small (which is the idea) and to this day I continue small.  It can be any little thing, like serving their snack of raisins and nuts in an ice cream cone, or 15 minutes on the computer for fun games.

I try to do something every single day.  I can’t say that I’ve never forgotten, but if the kids are in bed and I realize I didn’t have a “little thing” that day, I squeeze into bed with each of them for extra snuggle time or I sneak them into the living room for an impromptu sleepover. 

It has gotten to be such a habit that I am always on the lookout for something the kids would like; it’s become part of what I do.  Today Levi had a lesson on shapes, so I had all the kids make shapes out of marshmallows and toothpicks.  Yesterday I read to them extra long from the book we’re reading together right now, “Abel’s Island.”  See, nothing big. 

The basic concept is simply to bring a tiny sigh of “oh!” into each day, a little sunshine whether there’s any outside or not.  I want my kids to look back on their childhood with a smile and a happy, loved feeling.  That’s not going to come from expensive vacations or dragging them to every sport we can sign them up for; it’ll come from small moments, from the little things.  Here’s some ideas to get you started:

• keep a stock of “goodies” like silly putty, glow sticks, or even scotch tape to give them, especially on rainy days
• take a walk in the dark, with flashlights
• put green food coloring in the pasta you serve them at lunch
• write each a note and put it on their bed to find.  Even non-readers will love this (and probably memorize the note!)
• pack a picnic breakfast (like muffins or cereal in sandwich bags) on a nice day, with a timer set, and send them to the back yard
• put a piece of candy or treat on their pillows
• give them a packet of seeds and a spot in the yard that is just for them
• let them use a straw at supper
• buy a package of squirt guns and send them to the deck/porch in their swimsuits

Some of these may seem silly, they’re so small… but that’s just it: the simple pleasures in life are what make our days special.  Do a little brainstorming for things you can do for your own family, and share them with us!

I’m back home from a great conference done by Hearts at Home, in Bloomington, Illinois.  It’s a bit of a trip from here (close to 5 hours,) but going with good friends makes drive-time one of the best reasons to go! 

It was so nice to relax and listen to speakers talk about the profession of motherhood; gain ideas and encouragement as a Christian wife and mother; laugh at Dr. Kevin Leman share stories that spoke to my heart; walk around vendors’ booths and look at books… and take my time doing it!  And it was then good to come home, to a house that was clean and laundry that was done (I have the best husband!)

My guilt with going to the conference (or leaving my family for any reason) is balanced by what I reap from get-aways like this: a renewed sense of purpose, ignited motivation, guidance from speakers that I can’t wait to ‘try’, and ideas and understanding from my fellow travellers that helps me almost as much as the rest of the conference!

If it is at all possible, go to a conference every year.  Whether it is for moms, Christian women, homeschoolers, scrapbookers, whatever will meet a need for where you are in your life right now, do it.  Save up the money, work out sitters for the kids, and GO!  You will be blessed!

Why is it when I leave my family for a short period of time, it’s almost not worth it?  There’s pros, there’s cons, and then there’s the guilt factor.

• PRO:  The conference I’m going to is for moms.  It will be encouraging and uplifting.
• PRO:  I’ll be exposed to resources and lectures that will help me to be a better wife and mother.
• PRO:  I get to stay at a hotel 2 nights.
• PRO:  I will be responsible for myself only.  I only have to make sure I brush my teeth, pick up my laundry, and wear a coat outside.  This means no nagging!
• PRO:  Hours in a vehicle with 2 of my favorite people, and we can chat… and laugh… and tell stories without code words…
• PRO:  Eating out, which means no cooking or dishes! 
• PRO:  Getting away, not having the role/responsibilities of wife or mom but just being me…
• CON:  I need to get all the laundry done so there’s not such a mountain when I get back.
• CON:  I need to prepare meals ahead of time so the family eats things other than popcorn, chips, and Taco Bell.
• CON:  I need to have the house clean just in case we have a showing over the weekend.
• CON:  I also need to have the house clean so that it’s not a crazy mess when I get back.  I can hope, can’t I?
• CON:  The GUILT.  This one pretty much encompasses all of the above cons; it’s all tied together.  If you’re a mom who has left your family for a short period of time, for any reason (conference, funeral, whatever) then you know the guilt I’m talking about. 

Why do I feel guilty?  I know this conference will help me in so many ways; it is good for me; yet there’s a tiny little face in the back of my mind, shaking her head and looking at me with condemning eyes.  I can’t even name what the guilt issue is, which is how unjustified guilt usually works.

Ok, now’s the time for me to say how I’ve figured out how to whoosh away the guilt and not look back… but I haven’t figured it out.  I don’t know if this guilt comes from Satan, who wants me to give in to the guilt and not go be encouraged; or if the guilt comes from within myself, as though I’m not being a good mother if I’m not making constant sacrifices; or from somewhere else… I just don’t know. 

I will reason with myself, give myself pep talks, and reassure myself… I will go to my conference and have a great time.  I will do my best to ignore the disapproving face in my mind.  But I will know she is there.