What a Difference the Weather Makes

Last summer I was in a bad mood. I was hot, sweaty, and exhausted most of the time. The record heat and draught did not help my pregnant body, and by the way, how do you entertain a 2 and 4-year-old with little-to-no outdoor time in summer? We went from pool to pool and from airconditioned playroom to airconditioned playroom.

This summer has been a different story. This morning, we met friends at the park and couldn't get over how pleasant it was--not only to be with friends, but to be outside at the end of July in South Texas! It didn't hit 90 until after lunch. I felt like it was April or October. Lovely.

We've also had some fabulous rainstorms--power outage, cracking thunder, real rainstorms. I love the coziness. My kids and I have "rainy day reading" which is much more about cozy pillows and popcorn than about reading (but I'm hoping as they get older, they'll focus more on the reading part).

Perhaps I'm also enjoying this summer more because I'm not pregnant. Perhaps it's because I've been in this town three years instead of two--more settled. Perhaps it's because I made a point of being slightly more proactive before summer started as to how we'd get through the long days and lack of structure.

And perhaps I'm just in a good mood today as I write this. I see blue skies out the window, sun through the leaves. And I remember the hint of a breeze from the park this morning--in late July. That's enough to make anyone smile.

Small Sacrifice

One part of Sunday's church sermon talked about the meaning of fasting, giving something up (food, for example) for a time in order to focus on God. Whenever you desire the thing you have sacrificed, you would have the opportunity to pray, read scripture, lean on the Lord for strength.

I have been thinking lately about how I know nothing about sacrifice. If I want something, for the most part, I get it. If I want to eat, I do. If I want to get my nails done, I do.

I am not talking about the big things--wanting a new house or a trip to Europe. I'm talking about little daily sacrifices, a chance to trust God in the little things, not just the big things. Could I do a week's fast from snacking? From soft drinks? From shopping (or online browsing)?

What is it about our culture that is counter-sacrifice? How can we support each other in delayed gratification and teach that to our children?

Needing Space

When my daughter was barely talking, she would yell, "I need pace!" She needed space from her older brother who was crowding her, poking her, pushing her, leaning on her.

In the kitchen just now--trying to get dinner under control while two little kids, a humongous dog, and a husband were weaving in and around me--I said, "I need space!"

Sweet husband grilled the meat. I put the green beans in the oven and boiled water for the corn. Tired children are watching The Berenstain Bears. Shhhh.... don't tell anyone what I'm doing. I have a little space.

I'm wondering why I don't create little spaces more often. I'm wondering why when I have a tiny bit of quiet, I don't use it more productively.

Five Minutes

Five minutes. That may be all I have until 8 p.m. or so. If I were honest, I don't really have it right now. It's not like I don't have laundry to do (some of the beds aren't even made, and it's 5 p.m.). But I have dinner under control, the baby hasn't woken up, the big kids are playing, and I just wrote a thank-you note. I feel like I can take five minutes to reflect.

It's funny how the mornings start out so full of hope and ambition. My mental "to do" list is strong, and even when I write it out, I am only slightly deterred by the length. I feel good, ready, like I can do it. I envision the end of the day: the closets are finally completely cleaned out and organized (my husband asked a couple of days ago "what it would take" to get rid of the bags of Goodwill clothes in the hallway....Hmmm... a miracle?), I have done at least one load of laundry, the kitchen is clean and dinner is ready, I've addressed my 4-year-old's birthday invitations and put them in the mail, made a meal plan and grocery list for the week (I go to the store on Tuesdays and Fridays), I've showered and look cute.

Well, let me reflect...I did address the invitations (with the help of my secretary, my 3-year-old), I did make one bed (mine), I did clean the kitchen (but it's not that clean now), I did make the meal plan and grocery list. I have not taken a shower (but have semi-makeup on), the closets are still bulging, the bags for Goodwill are still in the hallway, I have not done laundry (but surely I can still do that before I go to bed).

But two fun things I did...a long walk with my friend and our babies in strollers. It was in the low 60s outside in late April! Loved it. I also went to the knitting store to get help on two projects on which I'd made a few mistakes. I always love going to the knitting store. I might write about that tomorrow.

Time to Reflect

In church this morning, our pastor told about Charles Wesley's mode of self-reflection. He would pause each hour to examine his motives from the past hour and see where he had veered off from his focus on God. Then he could refocus his mind before moving forward again.

Whether it's hourly or daily, I need to be taking time to look at my motives for my actions and my attitude. This morning? It seems like Sunday mornings I'm always wanting "me" time--time for my coffee, my newspaper, my robe. I get my hackles up with each "mom!" that gets hollered. I resist making breakfast for anyone (except feeding the baby), and I truly desire to be indulgent and still on the couch.

Today, my sweet husband let me sleep in, made breakfast for the big kids, and got them dressed for church. Granted, I did the same for him yesterday on Saturday morning, but if I examine my attitude, I didn't have a helpful bone in my body this morning. I put on my robe, drank my coffee, sat on the couch, read the paper, ate a piece of bacon my husband had made, fed the baby and got him and me dressed for church. When we were late to church, I said I really wished we could make it on time to church. But was I doing anything to help make that happen? I was acting like it was my day off.

In the profession of mothering, we don't usually get days off, but we can have mornings off, or moments off, and like in any profession, we should pause to reflect on what we are doing. The little gifts of time can recharge us, and they can sharpen us. What are my priorities as a mom? How do I want to parent?

In five minutes, can't I refocus my mind and heart?

"Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind." (Romans 12:2)

Professional Reflective Mothering

I'm sure everyone and her dog watches Julie and Julia and then starts a blog. Am I different because I paused the movie to start mine?

When I was a teacher, I participated in a group called "Professional Reflective Journaling." We middle school teachers got together monthly and spent some time responding to a journal prompt. Then we'd do a "journal pass" (highlight a section we were ok with everyone reading), and we'd feel like we'd vented some intimate secrets and life dreams. The whole thing took about an hour, and we left feeling recharged and ready to be better teachers and better human beings.

A few months ago--yes, I'd just had my third baby and hadn't been working full-time for over 4 years--I started reminiscing about that group. I wondered if those of us who'd entered the profession of mothering could benefit from a group like this. I prayed about getting a group together, but I haven't done it. I've had a few other dreams since then, and I haven't done anything about any of them either.

I could relate to Julie Powell's comment in the movie about needing a deadline (just getting around to seeing it on Netflix though it's been out for a while. I read My Life in France for book club, but haven't seen current movies much. My third little dream boat is 5-months-old). She said she couldn't finish anything, and I can relate. I have some fabulous ideas, but do I accomplish them? I felt comforted when she attributed this to ADD and said that's why she couldn't keep a clean house.

All this to say, is anyone else feeling this way? I am hoping that some people might be interested in participating in a group of Professional Reflective Mothering. Why don't we take a few minutes to respond to a prompt? Feel like we've been heard? Feel like we've accomplished something (even if it's only a sentence or a load of laundry)?