Everything But The...

       Sometimes I feel I've tried everything but the kitchen sink. Actually, in respect to raising kids and home management, I probably have.  My stick-to-it-iveness is the problem. Or maybe it's that in a very large family no day is like the one before; there are schedules and sports and appointments. For years, there was a new baby every 14-20 months. I wondered when things would return to normal.

       Then I realized that normal for us was the state of flux. I've read so many books on organization. I wrote a blog post about some of them. Each has something very helpful, though it is unrealistic to expect just one to fit our family long term. I still like referring to them. Life just keeps changing. Marie and Susanna have moved into an apartment together, we have no foreign exchange students and so we "only" have 6 children at home. They are all school-aged, which is wonderful. For the first time in literally decades I was home alone some days of the week this past school year.

       The children are on summer break now. In times past we organized home "camp" days but this summer they range in age from almost 13 down to 6 and the older boys aren't excited about "Pirate Day," or "Astronaut Day." We still do a lot of learning serendipitously, though. We've been playing with the animals more, and their chores involve feeding and watering them, moving the ponies from stall to coral, and collecting eggs from the chickens. It used to be that I had to limit television. Now it is limiting computer and X-box time.

       Yesterday they played for hours outside, the weather cool. It was so much fun to see them running around with backpacks and plastic Nerf guns, working as a team. Ben would stop to roll around on the grass with some dog or cat. Max and Gus moved stealthily into the barn to avoid enemy wasps. Thankfully, no stings.

       They also love swimming in the pond (all swim well), paddle-boating and canoe-ing. Red is a great color for the canoe because I can locate them easily on the pond. Gus loves it especially. We have taught them boat safety, and our pond is small.

       There are still days where they claim boredom; those are the days I send them outside. "What do you think children have done all the thousands of years before air conditioning and computers??" "Aw, Mom, that was the olden days--kids do different things now!" Watching them play Army yesterday reminded me of playing with my brothers forty-five years ago. It doesn't have to be so different. Many families have stricter rules and even no computer time or X-Boxes. I respect that.

       Instead of feeling like I've failed at a given tasj, I remind myself to take from it what I can and move on. That's not to say I don't get down about it sometimes.  I tell myself, like Dori from "Finding Nemo" repeated: "Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, swimming, swimming." Jesus told the disciples that if a town didn't welcome them to kick the dust off their feet, to keep doing what they were meant to do. Disappointment and negativity can render one ineffective and hopeless.

       Not today! Today I had the kids formulate a contract of turns on technology and initial it. They abided. Some broke off to play piano, clarinet and guitar, and the others went to the pond.

       Then we made cookies. A double batch in my giant new Kitchen-Aid mixer. Marie and Susanna are excited to inherit my old tilt one. Over the years they helped mix thousands of cakes and cookies with it. Before they were born I used it to bake wedding cakes and birthday cakes and our family's favorite Dobos Torte. Unless you have a Hobart or a commercial mixer, I think a Kitchen-Aid mixer is the best small appliance. My KSM-90 is still going strong after 28 years. I hope my new larger capacity mixer will, also.

       So here's the recipe. "Everything But The...Kitchen Sink Cookies." If you don't have a Kitchen-Aid, it will be quite the upper body workout. I doubled the recipe, but that won't work in a 4 or 5 qt. bowl. You'd need this baby (or a Hobart--lucky you!):

Everything But The Kitchen Sink Cookies 

Beat together:

1 cup butter, softened

1/2 cup white sugar

1 cup dark brown sugar

1 1/2 tsp pure vanilla

Beat in:

2 eggs

Stir dry ingredients together, and mix in slowly:

1/2 cup coconut flour

1/2 cup unbleached white flour (I like King Arthur Brand)

1 tsp baking soda

1 tsp salt

Stir in very slowly:

2 cups old-fashioned rolled oats

1 cup organic dried coconut (or whatever you have)

1/2 cup chopped pecans

1 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips

When well combined, drop by tablespoonful onto an ungreased cookie sheet and bake til golden in a 350 degree oven (about 10 minutes). Cool on baking rack.

You can add other ingredients. A basic oatmeal cookie is one cup flour and three cups oats. I have purchased gluten free oats before and ground some to make the 1 cup of flour. I've added crispy rice cereal, granola, different types of chocolate chips and different nuts. You could even add cinnamon or some almond extract. Today I thought dried cherries would be good, but I didn't have any on hand.

       Have fun with the recipe. If I struck a cord with you, if you are also an organizational book junky yet have failed to find just he right system, perhaps we're ok the way we are. Just be sure to take one day at a time and to kick the dust off your feet from the methods that don't work. Keep moving on and doing what you do best.

Seeing Through Busy

          Every one of my friends will say that their life is busy. I remember seeing a commercial from the 1950s which predicted that all of the new electric appliances would give women so much more leisure time! I do not think they understood the "Size of a Woman's Purse" philosophy. I don't know if I made that up, but I do know that whatever the size of my purse--it is filled to the brim. The same with "extra time." It gets filled. It is too cliché to say that many of us don't know how to say "no." We want what is best for our loved ones, our family, our husbands and our community. Our cup fills, and runneth over.

          I have not posted for a very long time. Life has been busy. Our two oldest are now married! The next two are in college and all the rest are in school this year. So did I make more leisure time? Did I dive into housework? Neither. I took on three jobs and started my graduate degree. As I write this it seems nuts, but every decision at the time was a right one. Each job is very part-time. It is the masters in nursing education which takes the most time, but I have loved it. I think it would be fun to be independently wealthy and become a full-time student. I love learning so much. I also love inspiring students to learn when I tutor, teach a nutrition course and teach clinicals. And I love being a home health and hospice nurse on the weekends. So much good stuff!

          It is running over in good and not so good ways. I now remember what a conflict it is juggling home and work. We had another lovely young lady live with us last year. Stephania is back in Columbia and we miss her terribly. She was truly one of the finest young people I have ever known. She helped our family immensely. I have decided that I am taking a few months off my graduate studies to dive back into my most important role: Mom.  It is only a delay in my studies, and I know I won't regret the time with my family. The best of Moms take care of themselves, but they figure out how to give their best to their families. It is not always clear-cut, and sometimes it is difficult; but it is a great goal.

      

What A Hug Is Worth

 

     I am conscious of how much television viewing goes on in our house. We have limits. “Family Movie Night” I wouldn't sacrifice. A couple Fridays back the kids had a snow-day and to tell the truth, when Bruce walked in the door I really wanted to escape upstairs for a break with a book and a cup of tea. But like the runner who says, "I'll just make it to that tree” or mile marker or other such goal, I knew I'd get dinner finished, and then consider my quiet exit. We cleaned up the dishes after the meal. I decided to wait again, and instead had a cup of coffee with Bruce.

     I felt my legs aching, my brain was over-full. I did want to lie down. At that moment Max, who had helped me make dinner, wrapped his arms around me, smiled and said he wanted more time with me tomorrow and, “Oooh, how about a Family Movie Night?”

     I couldn’t say no. "Ponyo" was the choice. What a very sweet movie. My children love it and I have seen bits and pieces overtime to add up to at least one full viewing. Their faces were so adorable watching it, their comments so delectable. Bruce had Margaret on his lap, dipping tortilla chips into the salsa he‘d brought in. He worked hard to keep hold of the cup of coffee I spiked with Irish Mist (to his surprise and delight). Mary Pat's G-tube pump was providing her meal and her contented tummy allowed her to focus on the animation on-screen. She smiled and giggled.

     These are the moments I treasure. They will be memories all- too-soon. They sustain me in the hard times (like earlier that day when I thought I couldn't take one more tantrum or loud outburst). Parenting is hard work. Did anyone teach us it was otherwise? I read a great post on Elizabeth Scalia's blog, "The Anchoress," on how our culture has perpetuated an adolescent mindset of self-centeredness and self-justice. I have witnessed this in a few of my contemporaries. The phrases like "I've finally got my life back," as the youngest child enters college, or "As soon as they're eighteen they're outa’ here!" support my observation that we've become just too self-centered. Our children are with us for a finite amount of time. I don't wish it to be cut shorter. There will be a day when I don't have a little one in the house. It is difficult with six children under eight, one with special needs. I do at times consider the day when they'll be older and things will be a little easier and I'll be able to get more done. But truly, I don't wish these days away.

     The sweet moments I do treasure. I've had enough now with snow days and being cooped up and racking my brain to come up with one more activity, one more creative solution to a conflict. I respect my homeschooling friends. They're so well structured that all this is built into their days, and I do feel their children are remarkably "immediately-obedient." But if the snow hadn't caused the school closing, I wouldn't have been stretched a bit--and I also wouldn't have had the good moments that happened because of it. Max wouldn't have made seafood chowder with me, I wouldn't have seen his impressive drawings, we wouldn't have made oatmeal raisin cookies for Daddy, and more.

     I have suffered loss in my life. When I was five I lost a brother I desperately wanted when he was stillborn. I lost my father in early adulthood, a husband to divorce, a husband to sudden death, my mother right after, my nieces in a tragic tornado the same year as my mother, and within a decade my two fathers-in-law and beloved mother-in-law. I know very well that life is finite, sometimes very, very short. Every life is precious.

      When I whine and cry about not enough of this or too much of that, I remind myself that every day is a gift. I once had a vision of wrapping up my day in an imaginary box at night and giving it back to the Lord in prayer. It was his day to begin with; I hopefully started it with the intention in mind of pleasing him, so it seemed fitting to give it back to him. I think He even wants the crummy stuff back--even my outbursts and mistakes, my omissions and should-haves. He forgives a contrite heart. I try to remember this when I’m dealing with my children. They want to please and to do better. Max suddenly hugged me at the end of the movie when the little boy finds his mother. It was the best moment of the day.

     I forgive his mistakes and trouble listening. We’re pretty consistent with expectations, consequences and rewards, so I know he’s learning. Would I love it if he “got it” a lot sooner? Absolutely. But he will “get it” in time--as I will. We are all works in progress. Max’s hug was worth a million bucks: a special ribbon on my gift back to God. A sweet memory to sustain me throughout the more challenging times on earth. I’ll not forget it. It was better than any quiet time upstairs with a book and a cup of tea.