The Wandering Mind

I can tell its nearing the end of the school year.

I feel my grip tightening...

I'm having a harder time sending them out the door every morning...

Issues that were easy to deal with before now grind our afternoon activities to a halt and carry much more drama.

We are all exhausted.

I can tell its nearing the end of the school year.

The carnivals and field days are here...

Yearbooks are on sale and there's talk in the halls of pools and beaches.

The library is shutting down in preparation for stacks of text books to be returned, sorted and boxed up.

End of the year testing is now upon us...

I can tell its nearing the end of the school year.

It's all I can do to get lunches made every morning.

Their tears come easier and the attitudes are sassier.

It seems like a long time since August of last year.

I can tell its nearing the end of the school year.

And I for one am ready to be home...

with all my kids...

all day long...

all week long...

I can tell its nearing the end of the school year...

And I am glad!

Waiting...

What makes a little boy sit by the door and wait?

His dad is on his way home.

Soapbox

Have you ever heard something like this:

"We went to church this morning and worshipped, got to eat lunch with some good friends and spent the afternoon relaxing with our kids... God is good."

I'm sure you've heard a version or two of the above. But, quite frankly, it's a sad commentary on how we view God's goodness.

So if the day had gone badly... would He not be good?

Off handed, quick comments like the above, albeit well meaning, make His goodness completely dependent on our circumstances.

He is good because He can't be anything else.

He is good because He is God.

That is all.

I'll be stepping off the soapbox now. Thank you.

Job Security

I've heard it said that a woman's work is never done. And while that is true I think the reasons are wrong. That little saying is mostly used to describe the amount of work that goes into being a wife and a mother.

But I think it's more about the kind of work we do. The minute we are done with a job it is immediately undone.

We clean a toilet and... someone uses the bathroom.

We do laundry...all the laundry, but we still have clothes on that are dirty, place mats on the table that need washing and towels in the bathroom that belong in the hamper.

We wash our children's bodies only to have them spill juice all over themselves, color on their leg, or take their pizza covered fingers and run them through their hair.

We sweep our floors just in time for our kids to track dirt in from the yard...or our husbands bring in little clumps of freshly mowed grass.

We wash dishes, drying the last glass and putting it away and then a band of thirsty kids come trailing in the house.

At first we don't like it. It drives us crazy, but then we fall into the rhythm of it... enjoying it a little.

Then we realize how much we, as keepers of the home, depend on that rhythm. Our job is temporarily taken away from us, maybe because of sickness or surgery or whatever the reason, and we sit and watch others doing our job for us. We don't like that at all. We long to be back in the place of feeling the rhythm of the repetitiveness of our lives...

And that is when we understand it. We love that clothes are never clean and there are dishes that are never really done. Because we realize we are needed. We are depended on. We realize that it's not "jobs" or "chores" that we are doing. But rather small repetitive acts of love and kindness mostly unnoticed and usually thankless.

And so we smile at the clumps of freshly cut grass and sternly tell our children they are "only to write on paper" all the while giggling inside as we wipe the marker off their faces. It is then that we feel most secure in our post as "homemaker"... it is, in fact, our own form of job security.

We can't be fired... and even though we moan and grown from time to time...

We love it!

Shine

Jesus wants me for a sunbeam,
To shine for Him each day;
In every way try to please Him
At home, at school, at play.

A sunbeam, a sunbeam,
Jesus wants me for a sunbeam;
A sunbeam, a sunbeam,
I’ll be a sunbeam for Him.

Nellie Talbot

We sing this everywhere. In the grocery store, in the car, walking Maggie in the church lobby. It's our desire as parents that they 'shine for Him each day'.

There are more verses, but we don't know them... just the first verse of an old, old Sunday School song that's been overlooked in our modern CCM day. So if you're in Target here in our neck of the woods and hear a chorus of little voices the next isle over you'll know...

It's just us... Team Babetz... shining.

When I grow up...

From time to time I ask... but these answers are subject to change at any time... maybe I'll make this an annual post so we can see how the answers change from year to year.

So, what do you want to be when you grow up?


Sam age 9: "A sniper in the Army" pause... "Or a civil engineer."


Claire age8: "I want to be a mother and a story writer."


Emma age 7: "A computer worker or somethin... um, I don' t really know what I want to be."


Henry age 5: "A dad... or maybe a Jedi Knight."

Maggie age 2: can't talk yet... we shall see.

Why I Put Away My Whistle and Striped Shirt.

It's a nice afternoon here and my kids are outside playing before it's time to do homework.

Actually, they are outside fighting.

I was sitting on the front steps listening to the arguing going on and on and on...

And finally I said, "Um, could y'all yell a little louder, the folks that live over there (pointing to the next street over) can't hear you very well."

They stopped for a moment...

And then went back to squabbling (a little quieter) over the division of driveway territory.

I don't break up too many fights here within Team Babetz...if I did, that would be all - I - did - all - day - long.

Frankly, they need to learn to work it out.

If I do get involved, it is when I hear "Mmoahahahahom" at which time I will remind them that there is no tattling and they need to work it out. Because if they don't, I will. And they dont' want me to pick a winner.

I usually pick me. And the loser's do extra chores.

Now I will break in if meanness starts. Or if physical violence breaks out. But for the everyday, run of the mill argument...

I've learned to just stay out of it and let them figure it out.

It's so much better than breaking in and trying to solve it for them.

They know all the scripture about preferring others above themselves (Romans 12:10) and what the fruits of the Spirit (Gal. 5:22 & 23) should look like...

But they have to be left alone long enough to put those things into practice.

And that is why I have put away my whistle and my striped shirt.

Turning Left

Driving on a 4 lane road I stopped to make a left hand turn, onto another 4 lane road.

Sitting in the right hand lane of a 2 lane left turn my son says...

"Mom, I'm sick."

Frantically I look for something... anything for him to throw up in...

Nothing.

{Oh why, WHY did I clean out the car...}

So, I do what any good mother would do...

Roll down the window and say...

"Don't get it on the inside of the car."

Cuz I'm compassionate like that.

And so as I begin to make that left turn...

With cars surrounding me...

My son tosses his cookies into the wind...

I tried to see the car next to me, but couldn't.

Maybe it's for the best.

I pulled into the Target parking lot and we finished our shopping...

Making sure to park in the back 40 so no one would have to see...

or smell it.

Then I went home and hosed off the car so the little patrol in car line at school wouldn't have to touch it...

And all afternoon I laughed to myself at the cars over to my left...

What must have been going through the minds of those folks...

But then, if you're a parent, you know...

It's just another day on the job...

For a mom.