I have always been fond of this silly photo of my children taken at their grandparents’ house in or around 1982 or 83. They are such ham hocks, don’t you agree? Totally in cahoots. Bekah is keeping an eye on things, Nate is thinking of something funny, and Rachel is looking like a double for her own little Chloe. The picture is stuck behind the glass, which explains the weird marks on Rachel’s legs. I especially enjoy their lackadaisical posture. No doubt they were taking a quick break for the photo shoot after climbing around in Grandma Bessie’s attic.
(N.B. “Ham hocks” is a term of endearment at our house.)
Blaire has really slipped right into life at the Jank’s house! She is just sweetening up everything – dishing out some very funny, very newborn smiles, making even the night a bit sweeter just by being part of it. Entertaining her siblings with constant hilarity – Chloe and Titus love to tell me “Blaire say….” and complete the sentence by imitating her expressions – usually something involving the tongue, and if she makes a peep from her bed, I will have an army of little people chasing me around and yelling, “Mama, Blaire needs you! ”
We have also redeemed the time by finding out all of the many things that rhyme with Blaire. Daddy flies her over the heads of the other kids and sings “Super Blaire… Flying high up in the super air…. gonna come right over there…. so someone can kiss her hair…” The kids of course cannot get over the funniness of this game. God seems to have prepared Blaire for this role in the family – she smiles the most during these games, like she knows just how she fits into this silly group of children.
And while life has gotten a little busier, it has gotten a whole lot better. Not only do we have a sweet new friend, but I am not pregnant anymore! Also, I find that I can really save time by not snapping the middle snap on the onesie!
I’ve been whacking away on a review sheet for the upcoming final I’ll be giving my ninth-grade students, and it struck me that I could use some review as well. Who couldn’t? The Christian life requires constant review of the truths and promises of God; otherwise we forget His goodness to us, and this invariably leads to some slip up or fall.
Whenever my husband and I travel for a speaking event, I always come back refreshed. Not only do we have the opportunity to hear other speakers, but we have to prepare and deliver our own. My talk will usually be a new arrangement of much of the same material I have spoken on before, but it is stimulating for me to review and rearrange. I always sit in on my husband’s talks, and they may be covering material that I have heard him address many times before. But it is always a blessing to go over it again and to hear it again. Why? Because it is not simply information; it is food.
It’s always good to be reminded again of the basics: things like confess your sins, respect your husband, love your kids, etc. Paul said he didn’t mind going over the same material again, and that it was good for the hearers (Philippians 3:1). But the reason it’s good to be reminded is because it is nourishing. When I hear a talk about basic Christian living, I may not actually learn anything startlingly new (though it may be framed in a new way), but I am edified and built up because I am being fed. When I sit down to dinner, it may not be a new recipe, but it nourishes me all the same.
So if we skip out on the review sessions (I’ve heard all this before….), it is no wonder we are not prepared when the test comes (and it always does come). Without review we get weak and even foolish. And of course there are applications of this principle for mothers. Little kids need review, review, review. It would be nice if we could just tell them the rule once: “Be nice to your sister. No hitting.” But they need to hear it said lovingly (and sternly) many times a day, year after year, just like we do. And they are not the only ones who are slow learners!
Over at the Credenda website, Peter Leithart has written a cheery little piece called Joyful Parenting. Thought you’d want to know!
Back when the idea of kids growing up in day-care was still fairly fresh, one of the mantras of the movement was that kids really just need quality time with their moms, not quantity time. As long as they were given a super deluxe Saturday each week with some incredible vacations at theme parks sprinkled in, then you were allowed to vote yourself a fine parent.
But the truth is, that’s a big fib. Kids need quality time all right, but they need tons and tons and tons of it. They are actually little bottomless pits, hungry for time with Mom all day long. And if they don’t have access to their parents, they will look for attention elsewhere, of course. They’re not dumb.
So while you are gazing at that laundry pile that Bekah so artfully displayed for us (I’m keeping her out of my closets and cupboards), take heart. Your kids need you. There is no substitute; not even Nana. That doesn’t mean that they need you to be gazing into their eyes all day long. But they need to know you are in shouting distance, that you are listening to them while you are slapping the pb on with the j. Having you on the premises to cheer for their tricky somersault or to speak to them about how they are talking to their sister is exactly what they need. They eat it up with a spoon. That is quality time. And they need it spread on thick.
“Nothing wilts faster than laurels that have been rested upon.”
Percy Bysshe Shelley
This is quite likely the one and only wise thing that man ever said. And nowhere is the principle more clearly evidenced than in my laundry pile.
The surest and speediest way for me to get radically behind on the laundry is for me to say smugly to myself, “There now. All caught up on the laundry. How lovely.” The instant I do that is the instant the trouble sets in. It only takes about 36 minutes of laurel-resting for my dirty clothes hamper to look like this. You’d think that one of these days I’d learn that the point of doing the laundry is not in order to “be done.” You’d think that one of these days I’d stop sitting on the stupid laurels.
I’d love to really delve into this question and analyze themes from Ecclesiastes and thresh out the possible incipient Platonic assumptions in my approach to life . . . but I obviously have some laundry to do.
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