Clover Lane

This year it was just me with the little ones at home for New Years Eve.  Jeff took the older kids on a special Christmas gift ski trip out to the mountains.  We all had so much fun.

Back here, I picked up a Dairy Queen ice cream cake (because it was my last day of sugar for me, and that was my choice for my "last supper" of sugar, and the kids coincidentally asked for one) and we all were in bed by nine.  That's my ideal New Year's Eve.  I had my calendar all filled out and I reflected on the past and the future (mostly the future) and the kids played with their new toys and it was OH SO EASY.  I remember thinking how exhausting and busy it was having three back in the day!  Oh, three is easy, it's a walk in the park, it's a piece of cake.  Give me eight or ten, and I'll be saying the same thing about having six, isn't that funny how that works?  And little ones vs. teens?  The saying "little feet, little problems, big feet, big problems", it's so true.  It was just a nice reminder for me-not a reminder of "oh how awesome it is with just three kids and no teenagers" but a reminder, that when all six are here I am doing BIG work and I need to give myself credit for that.  And also, that nothing tastes as good as a last supper of Dairy Queen cake.

It's funny how my resolutions have changed over the years also. I  have no new unreachable demands for myself.  I need to eat healthier, more fruits and vegetables and water, and less (which means no) sugar, which I would like to survive on, but it makes me more tired and crabby and is just no good.  I once again have to go cold turkey for awhile till I can eat small treats in moderation and not crave bags of Hershey Kisses morning, new and night.  I also need to do some sit-ups, no, I really need to do some sit-ups!

And on bigger things:
I was reading through a little journal entry I had written awhile ago.  I want to preface with this, please take note:  I didn't write this because this is the who I am, I wrote it because this is who I want to be.  I tend to take things seriously, I have a tendency, as I look back at twenty years of raising kids, to worry, to take things way too seriously, to project in the future.  I think it's a balance, that comes with age-the balance of helping shape them into the best versions of themselves, but also just stop shaping and enjoy them as they are at the moment.  They need us to do both!   I need to do both.

Here are those observations I made a few years ago, these are just scribbled notes, casually written:
(you doesn't mean you the reader, it means me the writer, writing to myself)

1. Pretty much anything you read, or do, isn't going to make more difference in how your kids "turn out", than you having an optimistic, joyous outlook on life and spreading that joy and optimism to them.  Also-showing love in many ways every day.  Making sure you spend time with them and use mostly positive words-making them feel loved.

2. FAMILY-it's all about what you do here in this house.  That will be the difference in the world-"Let everyone sweep in front of his own door, and the whole world will be clean" (Goethe).  There are service lessons, all kinds of lessons, right here.  No amount of work anywhere else is going to make the difference as what happens in your own home.

3. Love your "job".  Find ways to love it more-even the stuff you don't like.  Find a way to cook that is easy and serves your family and YOU well and makes it less of a chore.  Find a laundry system that works for everyone, so you don't grow resentful.  Find joy in caring for your home and family, using the talents God has given you.  Manage well, have systems that work so you can enjoy your work, and your days.

4. Worry-it's such a waste.  Explore the worry-it's based on fear.  Worry sucks joy, it's heavy to carry, it clouds thinking.  Meet it head on.  If that means a conversation you need to have with a teen, or a spouse or anyone, have it.  It usually also means time needs to be spent in prayer.  Prayer relieves worry, centers you and builds strength.

5. It's not complicated to know what the "right" thing is.  There is so much talk, argument, debate, fear-mongering in this culture.  The truth is the deepest, purest core of nature-what is right.  The culture is crazy right now.  It's backwards.

6.  Which means your need to be on the hunt for job, for that pure truth, and give it the attention it is due.  Concentrate on the joy, concentrate on the good.  You can switch everything around to find the good when showing the kids that it exists-using compassion and love and hope-remember the truth is obvious this way.  Dwell on the good, find it, point it out.  "Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, dwell on these things."  

I am tired.

I imagine there isn't a mother right now, on the 29th of December, who isn't.  Especially mothers of many children, especially mothers of little ones, and especially mothers of teenagers who stay up late.

This is the 21rst Christmas Jeff and I have celebrated together, and as we've added more and more children, I have gotten the hang of the season-I know what I will commit to and what I will say "no thank you" to. I have a system of keeping track of gifts, I can rival Mr. Claus (I should I say Mrs. Claus, we all know a woman is behind that well-oiled machine!) with my list twice-checked. I have whittled our traditions to the most beloved and satisfying.  I know what Mass time is the best fit for us, and I have my go-to teacher's gifts.  I love our messy tree, I remember the year long ago when I shed the yoke of magazine perfection, and realized, with relief, that in the end, the gift of many little hands helping, produced a 'rare and beautiful treasure' that makes that magazine perfection look cold and shallow.

So what was it with this Christmas I ask myself?  Why did I feel so behind this December, and so tired and so overwhelmed, doubtful of our traditions, a little resentful that most of the work falls to me, and well, honestly, a little crabby?  Was it wrong to give children who have so much, more, especially with all the work involved in doing so?  That guilt was feeding my resentment, confusing the meaning of Christmas in my already tired, and exhausted head. In turn I struggled with guilt for feeling this way-I told myself I have so much, I am so lucky, I will never get this year back, what of the dear family who lost their son in a car accident just weeks ago, who am I to be anything but joyful, all my children are here and alive and good (not perfect, but good!), I have a hard-working husband who will do anything for us, and SNAP OUT OF IT for God's sake alive, what is wrong with you?  But still...why must the baby (not a baby, she is two) decide to not take naps now?  Why must everyone takes turns getting sick this month?  Why must my husband's work be more time consuming at the end of the year right when I need help more than ever?   Around and around my thoughts churned and my mood reflected those thoughts.

And then, a few days before the big day, I felt my heart changing. It was something I heard-I can't even remember where-maybe it was the Catholic radio station I listen to during my quick errands, or the homily at one of the Advent masses, or maybe it was something I read.  It was a message of the greatest gift given ever- freely, with no heavy sighing, with no resentment or doubting, with no tallying, with no questions asked, with nothing, nothing, in return.

Here is my Son.  For you.

It was my job to buy and wrap some presents, put together some celebratory dinners and bake cookies, decorate a tree, hang some lights, and set up a nativity scene in celebration of that greatest gift.  It was minuscule in comparison, the work I was doing, to celebrate a gift I could never ever imagine giving.  At home here, I was reminded that as mother I have the awesome opportunity to imitate the gift at Christmas for my family-to give as selflessly, joyfully, peacefully, tirelessly, completely as I can.      

It wasn't any new information, and I imagine when I am in the thick of December I will need the reminder every year for the rest of my life.

I am doing God's work, and it's big.

When I take that into account I am gentler with my expectations of myself and I know that come December, tired is good.

Work is love made visible.

Christmas is work for us mothers, some years more than other but in working we experience the authenticity of the meaning of love.

I picked up my old worn out copy of Mitten Strings for God yesterday-I know I've said it before several times, but there is no other book I have loved more as a mother than this one.  Just reading this book calms my soul and reminds me of the kind of home I want to create and the kind of mother I want to be.  There is SO much wisdom in this book.

"I used to feel guilty about idle moments.  Time spent splayed out in the lawn chair, staring at the sky, was time "wasted".  A walk in the woods with a friend and her dog, meant that I wouldn't get my aerobic workout for the day.  When Henry, at three, wanted to hear the same story every day for a month, and have the same conversation about it every time, I could not help thinking about the stack of unread library books that was gathering dust in the meantime.  But I have come to believe that all of these activities are essential.  They are what is meant by "nurturing".  As the writer Julia Cameron reminds us, "So much of what we need, so much of what we want, is to be savored, cherished, cared for and cared about.  So much of what is missing is tenderness."  Our children do not need any more possessions to be happy; they need only to feel sure that they possess our hearts, our attention, our acceptance of who they are." -Katrina Kenison