Eight.

I used to be really faithful about writing birthday letters to my kids.  And then I stopped.  I am trying to get back into the habit mostly because my kids treasure the letters I have written.  I have them all in a book and they will pull them out and read them and are so delighted to read of the younger versions of themselves and their siblings.  So I begin again.

My dearest Adelia,

The story of you coming into our lives is one I treasure, because it almost didn't happen.  I was so afraid of all the what-ifs, and I had to take time to allow the truths of God's word to sink into my soul and chase away all my fears.  And He did, and we said yes.  And we brought home a failure-to-thrive baby that was you.  It would be another six months before you were officially adopted, but from the moment you were here, in our home and in our arms, you were ours.  Our hearts pretty nearly ached for all the love we had for you.

You were so tiny.  (We used to give you your baths in the bathroom sink; that's how tiny you were!)  The label failure-to-thrive that was given you at birth now astounds me when I think of it.  Because, my girl: you positively thrive.  You are full of life and passion and will and sass and oh, you are funny.  You have so much to say and so.many.questions.  You ask questions every two minutes.  You are noisy.  There is nothing quiet about you.  You do everything fully and loudly and with zeal.  You are generous.  You are friendly with every single person you meet.  You are the socialite of our whole family.  You are impulsive and you are strong and you are brave.  I see all of that in you, every single day, and I think of the grace of God who has fashioned you so; who took the tiny little you and flourished her into your eight-year-old self and all that you are.  He is so good.

(And this is the part you may want to skip over for the next few years, at least.  You'll think it's b-o-r-i-n-g.  ;)  But it belongs here.)  I have learned so much about being your mama.  I have learned that behind your tough exterior you hide your insecurities.  And behind your stubbornness is a need for grace and kindness.  God has patiently instructed me over and over in regard to you that kindness leads to repentance.  You respond well to silliness; to tickles and a gentle chiding of humor to smooth your furrowed brow.  You won't often initiate affection, but you need it and you want it.  You like your back scratched and me to pull you onto my lap and hug you and pull you beside me on the couch and read to you.  (You will grab my arm and try to tuck it around you-- which sometimes makes the turning of the pages difficult, but we work it out-- and you want the blanket over us, no matter what the season.)  I have also learned more practical ways of being your mama.  I have researched and learned (thank you, internet) how to take care of your curls and your beautiful brown skin.  There is so much I don't know and it is often a challenge but it is a part of the story of us, isn't it?

Eight.  These are the things you love at eight years old:  Tiger.  (Our cat.)  More often called Buddy from your mouth.  I often tease you that you're more excited to see the cat than you are me-- or anyone else, for that matter-- in the mornings. ;)

You love being read to.  I will agree to read to you-- one book, I'll say-- and you find the longest story on the shelf.  And about twelve others.  You are active, and like to do anything the boys do.

You have learned this year to sit and play independently, but never quietly.  You are generally singing at the top of your lungs or yelling loudly as you play throughout quiet times.

You like playing Barbies, jumping on the trampoline, and pestering your siblings.  (Ahem.  The last of which we're working on, constantly.)  You love drama and sometimes when things are mellow I think you like to go stir something up just to create some action.  ;)

You love to swim, and when the sun is out, you will talk incessantly about swimming.  (Nevermind that you don't actually know how to swim.  Yet.  No matter.  You will learn because you love the water.)

You love to ride your bike but you'll groan if we're going for a walk or a hike because that's just not moving fast enough for you, I think.  ;)

You always wish you are about ten years older than you are, because you think that with age comes a phone, a tablet, a computer, and keys to a car.  (One of your favorite questions is, "When I'm ____ (fill in the blank with any age), will I get a phone?"  You haven't yet figured out that the answer is always no.  ;)  Along all the gadgets you want at that magic age, you will also want all the trips to McDonalds you can squish in (ew!) and any movies you want to see, and swimming whenever you want.  ;)

You LOVE sour cream.  Sheesh, girl.  We always have to watch you when there's sour cream on the table because you would pile it on and eat it all up!  Sour cream is your love language.  Well, that and jam.  And burritos.  Casa.  And breads of any kind.

You are really good with numbers but have struggled to learn to read, and I know this is frustrating for you.  I keep telling you that you will learn in your own time, and some things have come easily to you (learning to ride a bike, for instance, or chatting with anyone you meet) have been more challenging for your brothers and sisters.  In the meantime, we'll keep reading to you and eventually you'll get there and will forget there was a day when you didn't know how.  :)  You like school because you want to do what "the big kids" are doing, but you like short lessons and need lots of assistance to keep you on task, because you're easily distracted and will often get up and go do something else.

You love to be "in the know" and want to be the first one to know what we're having for dinner (so that you can announce it to everyone else), or where we're going (so that you can inform everyone).

You revere your older brother Isaac and you love trying to make all the other kids laugh.  You also know how to laugh at yourself, which is a gift in itself.

My prayers for you are for a tender heart; one that is responsive to our instruction and to the ways of God, and for kindness.  I also pray that God will hone your passion, your strength and will to be used mightily for His purposes.

You are a delight, my girl.  Beautiful and abounding with life.

Happy birthday to you,
Love, your mama

On Duct Tape and Really Awful Mornings

The digital clock in the van read 10:00 and even though there were six of us in there, it was silent.  When I looked for my kids' eyes in the rear view mirror I could see their hurt even through my own tears.

It was one of those hard mornings.  A lot of grumbling and bickering.  An impatient, irritable, hurried mama.  We were supposed to leave the house at 9:30, but between the bickering and the shower nozzle that broke and the duct tape we couldn't find because the last child who used it just a couple of days ago had forgotten to return it and it was now nowhere.  And the child who used said tape and has been dispatched to look for it is now sullen and crabby at me, of course, because ...why?  Apparently it's unfair that he should find the tape he last had.  But no tape is found, so I shower while holding the nozzle above my head which isn't super handy and every time the nozzle slips from my hands water sprays out of the shower and onto the floor and I am crabby.  And we're already late.  The duct tape search is called off but where are my brown sandals?  The strappy ones that aren't in my closet or beneath the bed or by the shoes near the door or in the living room closet or on the back porch.  So I decide on the black shoes but now I can't find my black t-shirt OR my black tank.  And while I'm on my hands and knees looking beneath the bed, again, for my brown sandals, my boy comes in to offer help and I am near tears and then I scrape my arm on the bed frame and snap at him and now my arm is wounded and my son is, too.  That's when I hear more bickering coming from the living room.  So I get up and position myself in the hallway so that I can see and holler at the child causing trouble.  And I tell her to go sit on the porch until we're ready to go.  While I'm in the hallway directing her I see my other little one, sitting on her bed with her hand pressed over her mouth.  Because minutes before she'd been whining for the umpteenth time and I'd told her to put her hand over her mouth.   She had done so and then run to her room in tears, and I had forgotten about her in my shoe/shirt/tank search.  I tell her she can remove her hand and on my way to try to soothe her, the child who is supposed to be on the front porch is making her way back in so I open my mouth again and harsh words tumble out.  And the son I've just wounded is there, standing, and I need to make things right with him, too.  And on our morning goes.

So by the time we're all settled in the van... oh, except that no one is really feeling settled at all because how settled can any child feel when their mommy is on the verge of a full-on sob session?  In my mind I'm blaming PMS and I'm blaming them, the bickering kids and the one who never puts things away where they belong and the one who won't obey and I am feeling sorry for myself, of course.  And the time glares at me, reminding me of our tardiness.  We're leaving the house a half-hour late, and our destination is still 30 minutes away.  It's just some girlfriends and their kids-- but still.  I try to text my friends to let them know how late we'll be and lo and behold, my phone will not text.  Lovely.  So I begin to drive.  All is quiet in the van.  So I fill the van with my words-- words of accusation.  Could you just say sorry, maybe, for losing the tape? And while you're at it, why don't you tell me why you're angry at ME?  How does that make any sense at all?  And you, the whiny one: can you imagine if we all opened our mouths and screeched like that every time something didn't go our way?  And on I went because--ughh- all the ugliness surfaced right there in the van.  And then the child who lost the tape tried to apologize and somehow ended up making it all so much worse because you know, he isn't sorry, really, he's just saying that because I told him he should say it and so I cut his apology off.  And those kids I glance at in the rear-view mirror?  Still silent and now shrinking.  I finally stopped talking, kept right on with the crying, and added prayer. 

Suddenly I knew we had no business going.  I knew we would not settle all of this on the drive there, and I knew it wasn't fair to ask them to go from this awful morning to smiling and playing with their friends.  I also knew it wasn't wise for me to go in my emotional state and sit with a group of  friends and likely sin MORE with my tongue about my kids.  So I announced that we weren't going and reversed direction.  I kept praying.  I kept crying.  (I was still feeling quite sorry for myself and I was also feeling sorry for my words; for the accusations that are so quick to fly out of my mouth and for the ways I had wounded every single one of them and how I knew I needed to mend things with each of them but where to even begin?  And also, I didn't feel especially like saying sorry and I was definitely still crabby at some of them.  So I kept quiet and kept praying. 

I knew we needed to be together.  But I didn't want to get home and have everyone scatter and hide.  I knew I needed to make a public confession, because I had sinned against them in front of each other.  So as we parked the van back in front of our house fifteen minutes later, I asked them to stay in their seats, and then I turned around and met their eyes.  And irregardless of how I felt-- I did the right thing.  I apologized.  I looked each of them in the eye and said that I was sorry and I detailed what I was sorry for.  I made sure things were right with each of them. 

Then I offered to take them to the library.  They love the library, and I thought it might soften the blow of not getting to go play with friends.  I also thought it would be a good place where I could settle my own emotions.  The thought of sitting cross-legged in the children's section and pulling books from the shelves onto my lap with my kids scattered around me doing the same peaceful thing?  Yes.  We all needed the distraction of something else.  Something quieting.  And then after a bit of that, we could go home and then we would be ready to pile onto the couch, all of us, with a stack of books, and I could read aloud.  And that would be the coming together that we all so desperately needed.  So we did.  They each chose a book from the stack, grabbed a homemade chocolate chip cookie, and tucked themselves around me on the couch.  And we read stories. 

I'd like to say all is well, and it is, ultimately.  The ugly of my sinfulness stands in such stark contrast to the holiness of the One who paid it all.  Where I excel in harsh words, He is kind.  Where I am quick to accuse, He is merciful.  Where I am full of anger, He is compassionate and slow to anger.  Where I am impatient, He is long-suffering. Where I am full of self, He is full of love for others.  Where I care for control and everything to go my way, He is far more concerned about my heart and His glory.

I am reminded of how desperately I need a Savior and I am all over again grateful for His mercy. 

I am heartened by the truth that He is not done with me, and that He is gentle in His love and instruction.  He is patient with me and will continue to grow me in love for these He has entrusted to me.  He is present with all of us in the mess of our morning and He will tenderly mend hearts where mending is needed.  (Chocolate chip cookies and new library books went a long way in that mending process, but I trust He will provide more opportunities this day and this evening for me to choose love and be a gracious mama.) 

Blessings to you and yours,
~Stacy

Begin with love

I wrote this in my journal today:


 That is my prayer.

A few weeks ago I asked my little cluster of girlfriends to pray for me regarding my son, and my sometimes-difficult relationship with him.  Just two weeks later I was in tears with them over challenges with my daughter. After I'd shared a bit, they so sweetly asked for a follow up on my son, "How is he doing? How are things going with him?" to which I sort of blankly looked at them and then answered, "Fine.  My daughter has moved so far up in the ranks that he seemed positively dreamy this week."  I really don't know if I would have even noticed any negative or challenging behavior from him because my other child was SO OVERWHELMING it would have eclipsed it. 

Isn't that how it works?  If it's not one child that is bringing me to tears, it's another.  Always.  God is particularly faithful about using mothering to refine me.  And when we're all here, around one another every day, all up in each others' business and all of us sinful, ESPECIALLY ME?!?  Sheesh.  It can get ugly.  I can get ugly.

Lately I've recognized (thank you, Holy Spirit) that so often my first response to the Particularly Challenging Child of the Week is one of put-outness.  (I know that's not technically a word but you get it, right?)

This week it's my seven-year old.  I adore that girl, but she is exhausting in her constancy.  It is: "Mommy, mommy, mommeeeee!..." all.day.long.  Just one "Mommy" is enough, really. 

I have learned not to tell her if we have something going on that day until RIGHT BEFORE it happens.  Otherwise she will ask about it every three minutes.  (You think I'm exaggerating, but I'm not.) 

When she wants something and I say no, she just tackles it from a different angle.  And she is relentless in her desire to create action and drama-- thus trouble-- with whoever she happens to be around.

She has no boundaries, really- for what comes out of her mouth.  Which is really very humbling for me-who-tries-to-be-sensitive-to-everyone's-feelings-and-comfort-level.  Example: recently we had a couple from Mark's work over for dinner who were living together (not married).  She knew this, all the kids did.  But of course she's the one who loudly asks, as we're filling our plates with food, "So are they MARRIED?"  I shook my head, and gave her The Look, trying to communicate with my eyes and body language that No, we are not talking about this right now, and tried to move past the moment.  After all, the couple had already gotten their food and were now in the living room.  Perhaps they hadn't heard, or weren't paying attention?  And just when I think we've passed the awkward moment, she's at it again, same question, only louder this time, same question.  She knew not to ask, but I think she was probably bored and wanted to create some excitement.

Anyway, all that to just describe to you that she's a bit much for me sometimes.

[On a side note, I can't wait to see what God has in store for this girl.   He has great things ahead for her big personality, and I will love seeing how He shapes her and uses her.  And I will love it when He answers my prayers for patience and wisdom as He does so! ;)]

Anyway, so this week has been rough. And I was saying that my first response to really every interaction with her of late has been purely one of exasperation.  I begin with impatience and irritability and the Lord reminded me last night and again this morning that I should begin with LOVE.   So my prayer is that He would help me to start there; that love would be my first response.  And grace.  And delight.  And kindness.  That He would lead me and counsel me in every interaction with her; that He would fill me with HIS love for her. 

May He do the same for you and your Particularly Challenging Children.  ;)

Love to you and yours,
~Stacy

Open House | Monday, May 18

Hello, dear friends-

Here is what's going on today:

Outside my window | is our garden, just waiting to be planted.  Tomorrow is the day.  (More details on that to follow, I'm sure.)  So excited.  Also outside are my tomato plants, waiting to be potted.  And some white petunias I just potted in some terra cotta pots for my front porch.

our garden spot after rototilling, with happy chickens pecking around in it

Homeschooling | today it's in the 70's, so we did as much as we could outside.  Nature study, picture study and read-aloud all happened outdoors in the sunshine (me & Ella) or shade (everyone else). ;)

In the kitchen | does making lattes count?  ;)  This morning I made breakfast sandwiches- by making up a double-batch of some quick yogurt biscuits (have I shared that recipe here?), slapped a fried egg on each of them, sprinkled some cheese and a piece of bacon.  They were a hit.  We even delivered some to daddy at work. :)

Reading aloud | I am in the process of reading three books to the kids.  The first one is The Tarantula in My Purse (funny true stories of a family who adopts several interesting pets, including a crow and apparently that other one mentioned in the title that I may have to skip.  Yipes.)  I'm also making my way through Little House in the Big Woods (because earlier this year I decided we needed to read through the whole series again, with the little girls in mind) and Copper-Toed Boots (a recent find at a thrift store- 99 cents!)  Mark is reading The Green Ember in the evenings to the kids.

Looking forward to | my next date night with Mark, our anniversary get-away in June, getting our garden planted, having friends over Thursday morning, heading outside very soon to sit in my cozy orange chair in the sunshine and journal, Friday-night game night planned with my brother and sister-in-law, Mark's day off.... all sorts of things!  :)

Thankful | for a little goal I made back in March.... "20 lbs by 40".  I'm turning 40 in July ( which is utterly crazy ) and I decided in mid-March that my birthday gift to myself would be to lose 20 lbs.  And... I'm nearly there!  (16 lbs down), so I'm super thankful for the dedication God has gifted me during this season.  [I've just been counting calories through My Fitness Pal, and committing to exercise at least 20 minutes 6x/week.] 

Here is a peek at the back pages of my journal- my own little calendar where I'm keeping track of (by coloring in the little daily box) each day I come in under or at my calorie count).

Thinking | about possibly starting to read books again in July.  That will have been a six-month sabbatical from books.  And I miss reading so very much.  :(  We'll see.

Enjoying | these Bible studies from Stone Soup for Five, which are inductive-based but also very creative-minded.  I love this combination.  I'm journaling my way through Philippians right now using one of her studies, and Ella and I are slooooowly working through a Matthew study together. 

Best posts I've read online lately |
Sally Clarkson's post called If You Want to Win Your Child's Heart, Don't Go By the Rules, and Aimee's post called Bedtimes, Hot Cocoa Packets, and Listening to the Spirit.
Go there, read those.  You will be encouraged in your mothering.  :)

I truly hope you are all doing well and enjoying our lovely Spring!  

Blessings to you and yours,
~Stacy


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My Creative Boy

A little stick figure named Sam started showing up on the pages of Isaac's math notebook last year.  Sam would often leave little messages for me that I'd find when I went to correct Isaac's work.  Sometimes I'd comment back.  Well, it wasn't long before there was a whole repertoire of little stick figures parading through his math notebook.  Now Nitram, Scarecrow, Joe, and Robber have joined Sam.  (I'm sure there are others, too.  Those are just the ones I'm most familiar with.)  They all have very distinct personalities.  And fonts, now, too, apparently.  (See two of his math lessons below.) 

 
I love my Isaac so much.  I wrote this post about him when he was two years old (!), calling him my dawdler.  He still is my dawdler.  I can give all the kids a 10-minute we're leaving soon warning.  Then a 5-minute better have your shoes on and be by the front door! warning.  Then, when it comes time to actually leave, I'll find everyone at the front door except for Isaac*, who will still be doing whatever he was doing before I gave the 10-minute call.  He just gets a little lost in his world; in his drawing or creating or building with LEGO bricks.  I used to think he was sluggish or lazy, and that this was a sin issue. It has taken me years to understand that it is just his personality.  This is the way God created him, and this is a gift.  (An exasperating gift, at times (for me), but a gift nonetheless.)

His mind is always busy creating and imagining.  He creates a story out of everything.  His math pages look too stark for him with simply numbers on them.  So he enlivens the pages up with characters, fonts and borders.  And dialogue.  And an ongoing story.

I can't wait to see what God has in store for him in the future.

*and Audra, who is EXACTLY like Isaac in this way.

The New Ungame

Did anyone else have parents that pulled out The Ungame for Family Nights?  I'm quite sure The Ungame was my mom's favorite game.  In fact, she would probably still pull it out at family gatherings if she could be sure we wouldn't all tease her.  (Maybe she just has the questions memorized and sneaks them casually into conversation. ;))

Anyway, if you've not heard of The Ungame, it was a game created in the 70's that consists of cards with questions on them like: "If you could choose to be any type of tree, what type would you choose to be, and why?" 

Not really.  

I totally made that question up. 

Fast-forward to our family vacation in August.  We were going to be spending 5 hours in the van each way, so rather than just rely on the individual snack bags I'd packed for them and our standby games (the ever-popular slug-bug game, ABC game and the license plate game), I came up with some road-trip activities.  I made little travel books for each of the kids, with pages and pages of games.   In my search for games to fill our book, I stumbled upon some great questions, here (from a mom who wanted some conversation starters for their dinnertime), and here.  I used some (not all) of their questions, and made up some of my own.   Then I cut them into strips and put them all into a plastic jar with a lid, and we took the jar with us on vacation.

Every so often I'd pull out the jar and pass it around and everyone would pull out a question.

Silly questions like:

-Would you rather wear your shoes on the wrong feet or wear your pants backward?

-If snow could fall in any flavor, what flavor would you choose?

And more thoughtful questions like: 

-If you could be an Olympic athlete, in what sport would you compete?

-If you could jump into any book and be a character in it, which book would you choose and why?

-If you could travel back to a specific moment in history, what would it be?

-If you could invent something that would make life easier, what would it do?

Maybe it's just my kids, but they LOVED those questions.  They always wanted to answer each others' questions and then pass the jar around again to draw another question.  We still had leftover questions when we got back home, so I just shelved the jar.  Last night after dinner was over, I asked a random question for everyone to answer and they were all asking for another question.  It was then that I remembered our jar, so I scurried off to get it, and we passed it around the table.

It occurred to me then that our little jar of questions is pretty much the The New Ungame. :)  Oh well. 

A threefold cord

Last night Mark and I had this conversation:

(me)  Honey, do you realize that I get asked a question every four seconds?

(Mark)  Yes.  I do.  When will you figure out that you should just adopt my strategy, which is just NOT TO ANSWER their questions?

It's kind of true.  Sometimes he'll just delay answering and they'll either
a) give up and go away, or
b) figure it out for themselves, or
c) persist, and then he'll answer

I personally don't want to hear the same question (or the persistent, "Mommyyyyy!") four times before I answer.  I might literally go crazy.  So I just answer right away.

I love them.  So much.  But all the talking and questions, it's exhausting sometimes.

***

Today Mark had the day off.  I had Bible study this morning, and the kids had piano lessons afterward.  Mark told me to go to Bible study and then take a break, so I did. 

And this is what I did for my break:  I lingered after Bible study and visited with the ladies there for about half an hour. 

Then I went to a nearby scrapbook store and bought some fun new paper and some washi tape. 

Then I went to a cafe and had coffee and lunch and just sat there and journaled. 

As I drove from place to place, I was able to listen to the Valentines CD Mark made for me.  I was able to listen through an entire song without having to turn down the volume to answer a question or respond to someone chatting with me. 

Then I went to a bookstore to pick up the British Country Living magazine, which is my favorite.(About twice a year, I'll splurge and buy one.)  But they didn't carry it, so I just browsed.  I walked around and jotted down some book titles or authors to check out at the library (because I'm cheap that way). 

Then I wandered around another shop that has mainly cards and gift items. 

And then I drove to the consignment store and tried on a few things but didn't get anything. 

I did all of those things all by myself.

No one asked me a question that entire time. 

The quiet was refreshing.

And then I came home. 

***

One of the songs Mark put on my CD is a song by Josh Garrels called Bread & Wine.  I love that song.  This verse is my favorite:

And if I fall, I fall alone
But you can help to bear the load
A threefold cord is hard to break
And all I have I give to you
If you will share your sorrow too
Then joy will be the crown upon our heads, my friend

You really have to hear the song to appreciate it.  It reminded me of how grateful I am for Mark.  I'm thankful that he's my best friend, that he shares this life with me; that he weaves his heart into mine (another phrase from that song).  I am so thankful that we are a threefold cord: God and Mark and me.  And that we're strong because of that.  I am thankful that we share sorrows and joys.  I'm so thankful that God has given me the gift of someone to share it all with.  I am married to a fine man, and I love him and I am grateful for him every single day.

Tickets: a good tool for us

A few months ago I first mentioned the ticket system we've been using.  It has been working really well for us, so I'm going to share a little more about how it has worked in our home.

A recent picture of our fridge

The ticket method originated with John Rosemond.  Here is his description of the way the system should work:

List no more than three specific misbehaviors on an index card (e.g. throwing tantrums, refusing to obey first-time instructions, being mean to the dog). Those are the misbehaviors you are targeting for elimination. Post that list on the refrigerator. Using a magnetic clip, clip a certain number of ticket-shaped (e.g. 2 inches by 5 inches) pieces of colored construction paper to the refrigerator, above the target behavior list. The child begins every day with, say, five tickets. Every time she produces one of her target behaviors, the parent points that out and removes a ticket. The first four tickets are “free.” They are the child’s “margin of error” for any given day. When the child loses her fifth (last) ticket, she spends the remainder of the day in her room (first reduce the room’s entertainment value) and goes to bed at least an hour early. As the child’s behavior improves, losing fewer and fewer tickets per day, reduce the margin of error gradually, but to no less than two. Or, keep the same number of tickets but add more target behaviors. Eventually, eliminate the system altogether.

We began this system with our 5-year-old, then added tickets for our 8-year-old, then added tickets for our 9-year-old.

We began by sitting each child down individually and briefly discussing the behaviors we were specifically working to change.  Then we explained the system: they would get so many tickets per day (we did 3 tickets for the older kids, 5 for our younger).  Each time ___{insert identified misbehavior here}___ happens, we will remove a ticket from the fridge, then when the tickets are all gone, this (see below) is what will happen. 

I was hesitant to send a child to their room for the rest of the day, as John Rosemond suggests.  Um.  That seemed so-- extreme.  I feared that it would result in a huge battle with a yelling/crying child in their room all day long.  And it would be a battle I would have to face alone (since Mark is at work), and I didn't really want to be dealing with that all day on top of everything else that goes on around here.

So in the beginning-- which we'll call Phase 1-- we said when the tickets were all gone, the child would have to go to bed one hour early (thus missing daddy's evening read-aloud time, which is a highlight in our home.)  This happened only a few times until we realized that this wasn't much of a punishment.  One hour early simply meant that the child would fall asleep one hour early (rather than the "I'm missing out due to my behavior" thoughts we hoped would occur), and of course- thus waking up an hour earlier the next morning, which isn't always super handy.  So we launched Phase 2, and that's where we've stayed.  When the specified amount of tickets are gone, the child spends one hour in his/her room, immediately.  I set the timer.  Then the child gets one more ticket after that.  If he/she loses that ticket, they need to be on their bed for the rest of the day.  The on-their-bed-for-the-rest-of-the-day deal has only happened with one child, and only three times in as many months.  And it has not been the traumatic event I thought it would be. 

We're now down to three tickets for even our youngest (5-year-old) child, and we aren't using tickets for our 9-year-old anymore.  The behaviors that we began the system for are definitely improved.   I've been thankful for this system in our home!

Read aloud: The Hiding Place (Part 2)

{More on our current read-aloud, The Hiding Place.}

As I sit with this book in my hands, it is a certain thing that I will get all teary at some point during the reading.  The kids: "Mommy, are you crying?"  It doesn't even have to be a sad part, I just get weepy.  (I was this way when we read about George Muller, too.  These dear saints that have gone before us- George Muller, Corrie ten Boom and the whole ten Boom family, and others, too-- their lives, their stories-- challenge me and encourage me to love Jesus more fully and with greater faith.)

One of the (many) things I love about reading aloud are the discussions that come up as we read.  So far as we've read The Hiding Place we've discussed:

- Hospitality: the ten Boom home was a place of community for so many people.  They welcomed each and every person who walked through their door.  They served them tea and food- even when they had little to spare.  They were accepting and genuine in their care for others.  What can we learn from their example of hospitality?  How can we welcome friends and- more challenging, for us- strangers-- into our home?
- Honesty:  Nollie speaks the truth to the Gestapo agents, but Corrie lies.  How is it that both sisters loved God but chose differently in this area?  And God used them both.  That led to the question of "What would you do?" 
- Kindness and sacrificial love:  Mama and her girls, taking meals to their needy neighbors. Mama sending notes of encouragement- even when she could no longer speak herself. The whole ten Boom family- providing a home for Jews and risking their own lives (willingly, gladly) in the process.  A nurse who secretly asks Corrie if there is anything she can do, and then slips Corrie a package containing soap and Scripture that she could take back to prison with her. Nollie's care package to Corrie in prison.  There are so many examples of kindnesses and we've talked through so many of them- noting the risks taken and how those acts of kindness ministered to people.
- Choosing to do what was right and God-honoring in the face of evil. Even though so many others were silent or unwilling, the ten Booms resolutely chose to love and risk everything because they feared God more than men:  Firing Otto- the employee that was cruel to the old clock-mender Christoffels. Finding homes for so many Jews, and hiding them in their own home. Again- what would you do?  Would you be one who would speak or act if someone was being cruel to another?

So many other things, too- but those are the big ones.  And we're only about two-thirds of the way through the book!

Read aloud: The Hiding Place (Part 1)

I am reading The Hiding Place aloud to the kids.  Below is one of my favorite passages of the book so far.

Corrie writes about a particular train trip she took with her father, who was a watchmaker:

     Oftentimes I would use the trip home to bring up things that were troubling me, since anything I asked at home was promptly answered by the aunts.  Once--  I must have been ten or eleven-- I asked Father about a poem we had read at school the winter before.  One line had described "a young man whose face was not shadowed by sexsin."  I had been far too shy to ask the teacher what it meant, and Mama had blushed scarlet when I consulted her.  In those days just after the turn of the century sex was never discussed, even at home.
     So the line had stuck in my head.  "Sex," I was pretty sure, meant whether you were a boy or a girl, and "sin" made Tante Jans very angry, but what the two meant together I could not imagine.  And so, seated next to Father in the train compartment, I suddenly asked, "Father, what is sexsin?"
     He turned to look at me, as he always did when answering a question, but to my surprise he said nothing.  At last he stood up, lifted his traveling case from the rack over our heads, and set it on the floor.
     "Will you carry it off the train, Corrie? he said.
     I stood up and tugged at it.  It was crammed with the watches and spare parts he had purchased that morning.
     "It's too heavy," I said.
     "Yes," he said.  "And it would be a pretty poor father who would ask his little girl to carry such a load.  It's the same way, Corrie, with knowledge.  Some knowledge is too heavy for children.  When you are older and stronger you can bear it.  For now you must trust me to carry it for you."
     And I was satisfied.  More than satisfied-- wonderfully at peace.  There were answers to this and all my hard questions-- for now I was content to leave them in my father's keeping.

What a wise father Casper ten Boom was!  I am going to remember this when my kids ask things that are too heavy for them.  

I love the relationship he and Corrie had.  Corrie trusted her father with her questions, and she was content with his response.  He protected her and she felt secure in that.  This makes me so grateful for the relationships we have built with each of our kids.  I know they trust us with their questions, too. 

And-- did you notice this line?- "He turned to look at me, as he always did when answering a question".  This was a good encouragement for me.  I need to do more of this: to turn from what I am doing and give my child(ren) my full attention when they are speaking to me.  To turn away from the sink full of dishes, to wipe my hands and kneel down and really listen.  To close the laptop, to set aside whatever project I might be working on, and to turn to my inquiring child, to show them that they are valued and heard.  So often I just toss a response over my shoulder as I am doing something else.  But I am learning this: to take time to give them my full attention.  

Further Evidence that Mark is the Fun Parent

Last week we went to the ocean for vacation.  Following are some pictures, which will just prove once and for all that Mark is the Fun Parent.  (For you long-time readers, let's just remember together his animal pancakes* for breakfast, sometimes with food coloring.  And the cool things he's created with cardboard around our kids' beds.  Like the Castle and the Viking Ship.)  And just other things like the fact that he'll sit on the floor and play LEGOs with the boys.  (For more than, say, the three minutes I might give it.)  Or the times he sits and plays dollhouse with the girls.
*sorry there are no photos on the pancake post. 


Anyway.  We went on vacation.  Here are the pictures:

So anything you see here that has anything to do with digging in the sand is all Mark.

There are a lot of things I do like to do at the ocean, but digging in the sand with my bare hands is just not one of them.

In this next photo I seriously think Mark and Isaac are dancing a happy jig over their sand castle progress.  This may have been the moment I thought I was with the wrong family.

Mark's plans are always quite elaborate.

I don't even know what they've got going on, here.  Some different, um- outlying castles to the main castle?

And some other photos that aren't necessarily digging-or-sand-castle related:

I love this picture of Adelia in her little pink rain jacket, bending to get a bucket-full of sand. 

Mark and Audra, running from away from the waves.  (See?  More fun with daddy.)

My beautiful girl

All five.  Plus daddy.  (It's my goal, always, to get all of them in the same frame.)

Ella with her bag of sea shells

Oh, and on the way home we stopped at a lighthouse.  The tallest one in Washington State.  This was also Mark's idea.

He's truly the greatest. 

On a Monday morning

I'm just back from an early-morning walk with my mom and the sky is clear and blue.  And Mark has the day off.  I'm thankful.  I have a hunch we'll spend most of the day outside in the yard, "puttering", as Mark calls it.  Seeing what needs to be done and doing it, then moving on to something else that needs to be done.  The kids will play around, too- and usually we'll enlist the older kids to help with something, and they truly enjoy doing it.

Last night we heard the peeps of baby birds in Ella's birdhouse! 
 

 

Our rhubarb is flourishing and I'm trying to keep up with it. Yesterday I baked some Rhubarb Pound Cake- and it was delicious, as always.  Last week we made some rhubarb muffins using SouleMama's Leftover Oatmeal muffins recipe (tucked at the bottom of that post).  I just pulled a stalk, diced it and cooked it down a bit before using it in place of the "1/2 cup extra 'somethings'" part of the recipe.  They were yummy.  This week I plan to make some rhubarb crisp.  Mmm!

We lost a chicken a few days ago.  Summer.  We have no idea what happened~ just that we found her- dead, in the coop.  She had no wounds and there had been no signs of illness.  The kids were sad and we will all miss her.  She was a sweet hen.  Mark buried her in our back yard.

Ella took several close-up photos of Summer last week and now she's so glad she did.

Last week I was blessed by the prayer tagged onto the end of this: 

Our son had been rude and bully-ish to his little sister, so I had him copy a verse, 3x- that I'd written on the board: Let all that you do be done in love.  Then I asked him to write out a prayer with that verse in mind- about his relationship with his sister.  He wrote:

Der God, 

I pa that you wod help me be loven to Adelia and you wod hilp me hav self cincstl. 

In Jesus nam

Amin.

The teacher in me sees lots of room for growth, obviously- in his sounding out skills, spacing, grammar, and spelling.  But the mother in me is blessed by his heartfelt prayer, and the words he used in it.  And I trust in the God who sees this prayer and who has tucked this verse inside my son's heart.

I hope you have a wonderful day!

~Stacy

Around the house

There is this progression of drawing that I love to watch in my kids.  Their "people" drawings usually begin with a head and then eyes and a mouth-- and they perfect that for several weeks.  I'm always so delighted to see when they suddenly add hair and hands (!) and legs (!).  I was especially excited to spot this particular drawing on the dry-erase board the other day, because of who drew it: ADELIA!  She rarely draws anything, because she can barely sit still for something so time-consuming.  *grin*  Audra is constantly coloring; give that girl a pencil and piece of paper and she can occupy herself for hours, but not so with Adelia, so it was worth a photo.

I peeked in on Audra's quiet time yesterday and found this:

 I don't know why I found this so cute: her dressing up Pooh in Ella's old clothes.  But I did.

And for Isaac's quiet time today, he's taped up the room to make a road for his cars.  (I think he may have even talked Ella into joining him.  ;))

In other news, we've realized that we needed to tighten up our diligence in terms of discipline with one of our children in particular.  So.... we've been praying lots, Mark and I-- seeking God's wisdom on how to do so.  I also pulled out a favorite book again (I posted about it here and here) and this tattered old chart I made the last time I read the book- some seven years ago, now.  (Any long-time readers remember this one?)  The chart was my take-away from the book, as an effort to have a visual of common sins we ought to put off and what we should put on in place of them, based on Ephesians 4:22-24.

The kids and I have been discussing one of the "Put Off" behaviors on the left-hand side of the chart each morning and then reading verses on what to Put ON in place of what we're putting off.   So far we've covered Tattling and Slothfulness, and I am SO grateful to say that tattling is on the decline and the kids have done their chores much more speedily for two days running now.  (One of my boys, who usually dawdles quite a bit, actually completed his chore in 6 minutes yesterday- which is surely an all-time record for him.  I was astonished.  I think he was, too.)

As for our little discipline-issue with our strong little five-year-old, I am focusing on two things: being diligent and prayerful.  And with her, we're focusing in on just two things right now, too: not arguing or disputing when mommy asks her to do something, and obeying.  We're three days into using this little ticket system (see below) and so far it's working GREAT.  {Thank you, Kendra, for the idea!}  I'll try to get back to you on the details soon, when we've had a few more days of using it.

This parenting gig is downright challenging, isn't it?   I am so thankful for God's faithfulness.  I have been praying for a few weeks about our five-year-old's increasing disobedience and He has been so faithful to lead us to a better place.  I'm thankful, too, for a friend with older children who we spent time with this week (and who saw some of that disobedience rear it's ugly head) and exhorted me to do something about it, and soon.  It was just the kick-in-the-pants I needed, truly.

Eleven years into this parenting role and I still need to be reminded of the basics: God desires children to obey their parents.  It pleases Him. (Col. 3:20)  It goes well for them if they do (Eph. 6:2-3), and I need to be diligent to ensure that they do. (Prov. 23:13.)  I'm sure there's more but that's what God reminded me of this week. 

Love to all of you who are dealing with the same types of issues.  Keep on.  God is faithful to equip you for those little ones He has entrusted to you.

Blessings to all of you!

~Stacy

Parenting lessons (for me)

Oh, wow.  Rough morning, here. 

There was a bit of sunshine today, so I decided that after breakfast, chores, and our history read-aloud, we would head out for a walk before we moved on to our other school work for the day.

My announcement was met with cheers from the kids and we readied ourselves to get out the door.  The kids were all outside, waiting on the porch swing, when I made one last sweep through the house to lock the back door and get my hat, keys, and phone.  As I passed through the kitchen I saw the cup of water (w/ medicine) that my five-year-old was supposed to take with breakfast.  I'd told her numerous times to drink it but didn't see it through.  Apparently she'd decided not to drink it and instead placed it on the counter, hoping I wouldn't notice.  I promptly picked it up, brought it outside, set it on the porch and said, "Drink this up and then you can come with us." And the rest of us began our walk down the sidewalk.

I naively thought she would pick it up, drink it down and scramble to catch up with us, but when I glanced back at our house from about a half-block away, she hadn't moved and the cup remained untouched. 

OH.

That was just the beginning of the battle with my girl.  She wouldn't drink her medicine.  She refused to walk.   I tried to get her into the stroller so that I could just push her and the rest of us could go for our walk, but failed in that attempt.  When she finally joined us for our walk, she walked as sloooooooooowly as she possibly could- remaining at least a half-block behind the rest of us, stubbornly taking tiny steps.  I was at my wits end:  I felt sorry for the other four who just wanted to get to the trail and walk.  I felt powerless and yet didn't want to let her control the morning/whether or not we walked.  It seriously took us about 20 minutes to make it a block and a half from our house with her baby steps.  It was awful.  And the whole battle had been going on for nearly an hour.

So I called in for back-up.  Mark was leaving the post office and heading out to his route so I asked if he could show up on our walk and have a little pep-talk with his daughter.  He pulled up and I started crying.  He gave me a hug and told me to go on with the other kids; that he and Adelia would catch up with us. 

Daddy spoke some magic words (in reality, he just possesses some magic authority as a daddy that I, as mommy, do not have.  Thank God for daddies.) They came running down the trail toward us just minutes later.  Mark and I chatted briefly and then he headed back to work and I was on my own again, with the kids- and truly wondering what I would possibly do if she refused to walk again.  But apparently she'd forgotten her earlier attitude, because she was running and playing and seemed just fine.

I, however, was not fine.  I was tearful and frustrated and crabby.  I held back tears and prayed.  And as we walked, God reminded me of these verses, in Proverbs:

He who covers over an offense promotes love (17:9)

A man's wisdom gives him patience; it is to his glory to overlook an offense (19:11)

At the time I didn't recall those words verbatim, but I remembered the general idea of "love overlooks an offense", and prayed toward that end; that God would help me to let go of my anger and resentment; that I wouldn't treat her differently because of her earlier behavior; that I would be merciful, etc.

She came to me a couple minutes later and asked me, impatiently, to tie her shoe.  I wanted to make some smart remark about how maybe what she SHOULD be saying was sorry, but- by a complete act of God I was able to hold my tongue and knelt down to tie her shoe. 

By the time we were on our way home, she was holding my hand and I was holding my tongue (not entirely, I was speaking, just not about her earlier attitude).  As we neared our house she began chattering about the video she wanted to watch when the big kids did school (she loves videos) and I wanted to take that privilege away from her, too- because I was still crabby.  But I didn't.  Because I was overlooking the offense.

When we arrived home, she was off to choose a video while the other kids began their book work and I stopped her and said, "I'd like to talk to you first, actually..." and so she followed me into my room and sat across from me on my bed.  It was then that I was going to "let her have it", so to speak: to remind her of her disobedience, tell her that she should say sorry to me, and then either remove her movie privilege or notify her that I was being gracious to allow her to watch it.  [I'm just being perfectly honest, here.]  But again- I couldn't.  I kept remembering that verse, and even thought I wanted to let her have it, I chose another route:  What I said was, "Adelia?  Thank you so much for changing your attitude on our walk.  I'm so proud of you for doing that.  It was a fun walk, wasn't it?"  And then I gave her a hug.  She hugged me back and scurried off and I again thought: "Huh.  I don't know, but wasn't that PRIME opportunity for her to say sorry?"  Grr.  And I went and put a video on for her. 

We finished school, had lunch and quiet hour.  I sat with my Bible and journal and asked God what I should have done differently.  I didn't come up with much, honestly- but even though things felt undone, I truly didn't feel crabby at my girl anymore, and I trusted that God had led me in my morning interactions.  (As I already mentioned- it is an act of God to get me to hold my tongue.  Truly.  I usually don't.)

I've been praying fairly regularly for the past few years that I would be led by God's Spirit in my correction and discipline of the kids.  I fail, so much more often than not.  And this morning is a great example of what I never would have come up with on my own.  I am so thankful that He is faithful to lead us and that He knows my kids: their needs and their hearts, better than I do.

***

I thought that was the end of the story. 

I wrote this blog post and got right up to that point but hadn't edited it yet and then one more thing happened. 

Adelia came upstairs from her quiet time and was chatting with me about what she'd been playing: she had dressed up some stuffed animals for swimming.  She'd found some old baby clothes under the bed and there were some summer clothes in there, including two infant swimsuits, and her stuffed lambs were wearing them.  I smiled at that because my girl is obsessed with swimming and she asks almost daily when it's going to be summer so that she can swim.  I imagined her delight when she discovered those tiny swimsuits and how much fun she must have had playing "swimming". 

I was still sitting on my bed with my Bible and journal and I said to her:  "Come here, you."  I pulled back the covers and tucked her and her stuffed animals in with me- facing me- and hugged her and said, "I love you so much."  She hugged me back and she said "I love you, too."  And then, this: "And I'm sorry about all the things I did earlier.  I'm sorry I disobeyed you."  I thanked her with a lump in my throat and off she scurried, on to the next thing.  I was stunned.  It had been *several hours* and I had not said one thing about it to her.  And yet God was working in her little heart all along. 

Grace.  It's a beautiful thing.

Early morning gratitude

I was up early this morning with the girls while everyone else slept.  They were vying for a position on my lap- both were sleepy and wanted to snuggle with mommy and Audra did not want to share lap space. Adelia is very sweet about sharing, so for the most part she will let Audra have me to herself. This is quite unfortunate because I *love* it when Adelia just wakes up from a night of sleep or from her nap.  It's the only time she will sit still, and she wants to be held.  (Audra, on the other hand, wants to be held fifty times a day!)

***

(Case in point: as I was typing that statement, Audra came over and said, "I want to sit on your lap." ;))  So: I closed the laptop and set it aside and pulled her onto my lap.

Anyway~ back to what I started to say earlier:  I sat this morning on the couch, taking turns with the girls- when Audra was off playing happily, I'd pull Adelia into my arms and vice versa.  At one point, Adelia was snuggled in beside me and Audra sat on my lap, facing me- squeezing my cheeks and poking my eyes and giving me tight hugs and chattering about all sorts of things, (if she says 'Jofuss' (who goes with Mary and baby Jesus for those of you who don't know who 'Jofuss' is) I might actually die from cuteness overload.)  And I thought: "This is the greatest job in the world."  What other occupation could you be in where people approach you several times a day just to tell you how much they love you, and to cheer you with countless hugs and brighten your days with smiles and laughter?  What wonderful years these are!  And how gracious God is to allow us- as mothers- to get to play such a big part in their lives.

I was overwhelmed with thankfulness this morning.  How dear my children are, how much I love them and delight in them, and how grateful I am to get to be their mommy.  Yes, the days are long and often challenging, but God is gracious and is so faithful to give strength and perseverance with each new day.  It is such rewarding work, isn't it?

Blessings to you and your children today.  (Don't forget to tell them how much you love them!)

Default: theirs and mine

One day as I was trying to get the kids ready to go somewhere--- which always seems to be an extremely Long and Trying Process at our house, and one in which I'm usually exasperated at my children who want to play or goof around instead of getting on their hats and coats and shoes or boots, or in which I'm usually exasperated by the child (not always the same child, mind you) who is not at all ready while the rest of us are standing at the door ready to go--- I had a thought.

It was simply this:

Their 'default' is play.

It's the way God created them, these children of mine.  And it's a good and beautiful thing.  They naturally, inherently just want to play.  (My personal default happens to be work, hence the exasperation on my part.)

My boys in their room together-- with clear instructions to clean their room-- will inevitably end up in some drama or giggles or play-fighting or jumping or climbing or a dumping out of a toy bin in order to build or play something.  That's just the way they were made.  They look for it, they celebrate relationship with each other by playing together.  Any two of my children who pass by one another in the process of doing their individual chores will interact with each other on some level and that will lead to a disruption of my personal work-default and an entry into their default of play.  If I want to leave the house, and right now, please, or we're going to be late!-- one of them will find something to do instead of getting their shoes on and will end up sitting comfortably on the floor, playing.   It puzzles me, truly- and I usually think it's absurd:  Hello?  We are leaving.  As in, now.  Do you see us?  How could you possibly be [sockless, shoeless, coatless] and PLAYING right now?

And yet: it's their default.

Now- I'm not eschewing obedience or my desire and intention for my children to learn responsibility and a good work ethic.  I want those things, and we are fully in the process of teaching our kids those things.  But it is helpful for me to remember that it is a process.  They are firmly, cheerfully situated in their God-given play-mode and it will take years of gentle, faithful, patient instruction and our own example to teach them and show them that there is real joy to be found in work-- and in the reward of getting to play when your work is finished.

In the meantime, I am finding great joy in observing their playfulness-- in everything they do, and I'm marveling- truly- at their ability to pause in any given moment and laugh and play and relate to one another, forsaking all work.  I think I could (re)learn to do a good deal more of that myself.  I am- more often- settling my exasperated self with the truth of how God has designed them, and by realizing that more often than not- they've gotten it exactly right.

Good read

This was the best blog post I read all week.

Go read it, and then go see your kids-- really see them.



{Thank you, Tonia~ for the link}

Approaching our first day of school with a right spirit

Today is our first day of school.  I'm in a good place right now, but I wasn't just two short days ago, and that's what I'm going to tell you about. 

On Saturday Adelia was her wondrous, lively, *challenging* self.  That girl.  She is... three and so stubborn and willfull and passionate and defiant and just so very loud about it all.  :)  I love her so much and I know God has great plans for her life and all of that passion and I'm trusting Him to shape her and mold her for His purposes.  But some days are just plain exhausting, aren't they?  Being a mama?  My goodness!

my beautiful girl in a (rare) moment of stillness: at the zoo, holding a small bird

Anyway... so on Saturday she was in full defiant mode and by lunchtime we'd had two major sessions of disobedience (and a few minor ones, too) and I went from fighting back tears to a full-fledged sob session over all of it.  What it all kept coming back to in my fit of tears was: HOW AM I GOING TO DO THIS?!  ("this" meaning: start school on Monday).  How does this kind of a morning fit into a school day?  How can I be a diligent mama in training my little girl and be an attentive mama with my school-aged kids?  Sigh. 

Thankfully, once the girls were down I crept into my room for some daily peace and quiet, and resumed my Bible reading.  I was in Psalm 99 and began journaling as I read:
The Lord reigns.  Great is the Lord.  Exalt him and worship him.  He is holy.  I was instantly reminded to take my eyes off myself and refocus them on God.  So I did.  I kept writing and just focused on His greatness. 

Then I kept reading: "Moses and Aaron were among his priests, Samuel was among those who called on his name; they called on the Lord and he answered them.  He spoke to them..."

And God reminded me that He hears when I call upon His Name.  He hears and He answers.  So I called Him right on up ;) -- scribbling out prayers in my journal about all that I felt overwhelmed about.  And He reminded me then of two verses-- one in Matthew where it says "do not worry about tomorrow" and another, in Philippians, I think, that says "do not be anxious about anything but in everything, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God."  (or something.  I'm paraphrasing, I'm sure.)  So I asked Him to help me not to worry and to just do the *next thing*; that thing right in front of me right now, and to do it well and to trust Him for the rest of it; the stuff that comes next.  I trust that He will not give me more than I can bear and that He is with me, leading me and guiding me.  I asked for wisdom and strength.  I specifically prayed for my girl; that God would teach her self-control and that He would help ME correct with wisdom and gentleness and in kindness.

I am so thankful for God's word and how instructive it is.  I was reminded that day- in just a few short verses- of the truth.  I needed to take my eyes off of myself and the circumstances of how impossible things seemed today.  I needed to refocus my heart and mind toward thankfulness and praise (the Psalms are so great for this!) and I needed to be reminded not to be anxious, but to call on God and trust in Him to answer.  It just righted my whole attitude, that time with Jesus.  I know it will be challenging, this day.  But I know He is good and He is with me and I trust Him with all of it.

Know that the Lord is God. 

It is he who made us, and we are his; 

we are his people, the sheep of his pasture.

Enter his gates with thanksgiving

and his courts with praise; 

give thanks to him and praise his name.

For the Lord is good and his love endures forever; 

his faithfulness continues through all generations.

Psalm 100:3-5

Amen.  Here's to a great first day! 
I'll post tomorrow on the flow of our day, (and, ahem- quite possibly how well that didn't work for us!) and will follow in the days to come with our chore chart and all the things Michelle requested.  ;) 

Love to you all...