Five Benefits of Hand-Washing the Dishes

#1  I could slather on some fabulous lotion and don some rubber gloves and get a FREE spa hand treatment while getting this job done at home. #2  I burn 73 calories an hour-that's 1/2 of a Coke!  (Probably not touchin' the brownies, though.) #3  I am honing my logic and spatial reasoning skills.  It's a challenge to see how many dishes I can fit on the rack and how high I can get them, without half of them falling off of one side or the other.  I must figure out which ones should go first, and which ones will work on the outsides in order to rein in all the unfettered and boisterous dishes in between (the cups have minds of their own and they're very strong-willed). #4  One day I can tell my children,"Oh, you think you have it so hard...I had to wash dishes by hand!  Barefoot, in the snow, uphill both ways!" #5  It is actually quite satisfying to see the clean sink when you're all done,  and the dishes tend to get put away sooner rather than later (especially if the pile was so big it was a two-rack job, or even three-hey, sometimes I skip a night). I'm trying to look at this glass half-full (then I don't have to wash it, right?)...waiting patiently for when we may get a new dishwasher.  I know there are other hand-washers out there.  Hand-washers unite!  Pruny fingers are sexy!  Dishwater on your clothes and on your skin is lovely!  Seriously, it is a privilege to perform this service...how else are my kids going to eat their cold cereal in the morning?

Scenes From Our Playroom

Christian is such an all-boy kind of boy.  He walks around, church even, with his hands made into perfect little pistols.  He swings bats or sticks at balls or whatever is lying around that he can throw into the air and whack.  Star Wars?  Huge fan.  Wrestling, poking, and other pesky little-brotherisms?  A pro. (I have to admit in all fairness that Michaela likes her Star Wars and can antagonize with the best of them-I'm not tryin' to overdo it on the gender stereotyping here.  But I cannot recall a time when she pointed her first two fingers while holding three and four tucked in, thumb up, one eye shut, emitting tiny,"Tchew, tchew," or,"Pye-oun, pye-oun" sounds.) Watching Christian play with Eliana is so funny for this all-boy reason...he does things that Michaela isn't as apt to do, and Eliana rolls with the punches.  And I mean it.  She rolls and takes a few hits along the way. In spite of the rough-and-tough stuff, Eliana looks up to Christian... She's learning a few of his moves, and she's not afraid to take him down... She's sensitive, too.  A moment of silence? A prayer over her big brother? Uh, oh...the attack! Around and around, and then they fall down... A special delivery... Snuggling in the sleeping bag in our entry, of course... A favorite for both of them is playing ball... I only wish I knew what they were up to-I think Christian was sword-fighting himself, and Eliana? I just don't have a clue. Most of the time I find them playing in this space between our front door and the stairs.  I'm going to start calling it the playroom.  Hey, we are into multi-tasking around here...this area can do double-duty just like the rest of us. Christian loves Eliana a great deal.  I am grateful that he wants to play with her so often.  I pray that they remain close.  It's easy to see she loves him, too.  And is eager to learn all he has to teach.  Every day she picks up a Tinker Toy contraption that he has left behind and sends it soaring through the air with a little,"Tchew, tchew," sound.  I always call it a ship, though!

A Little History

Every day Michaela says or does something that emphasizes (without meaning to at all) how special she is.  There is always a hug at just the right moment, or some other loving gesture (tonight as I was leaving her room after saying good night she called quietly after me,"Mom!"  I turned around and in the darkness I could see that she was holding up the "I love you" sign with her hand).  She loves on Eliana all day long.  She runs to say good bye to her daddy as he's walking down the sidewalk as if it's the most important thing she's going to do all day. She had her first softball game of the season tonight (and Christian had t-ball at the same time, so Mike and I had to divide and conquer, and I missed his game).  She's playing on a team where all the girls know each other from school, but she shows up and smiles and starts talking to the other girls like it's no big deal (she does better with them than I do with the moms!).  She hasn't played much softball, but she pulls her helmet on, picks up her bat, and heads to home plate to give it her best shot.  I'm so proud of her for doing these things, things that I have a hard time doing as a 34-year-old...making friends in an established circle, playing a (fairly) new sport (um, playing any sport at all).  And all of it with a smile, a sweet smile that can light up a whole room. I don't tell her how much she means to me often enough.  She's so independent, and does so much on her own now.  I rely on her a lot to help out with Eliana, and throughout the day we do our own thing.  She has been doing her schoolwork in Mike's office in the mornings, without the distraction of Eliana trying to climb in her lap using her pencil on her paper. I'm writing this so late because one of the last things I did tonight (before getting back on the computer) was look in her bookbag.  She has never had a real bookbag before, for school, since she's homeschooled.  You know, we didn't really need to pack the books up for the trek from the schoolroom to the dining room when we did work there.  Or to the living room when we did work there.  No, we just carried them in the handy-dandy arms that we have. Now that she's walking to Mike's office at the church with a load of books she needed a bag to put them in.  Mike ordered one for her, and it arrived today, and she squealed and said,"It's cute, it's plaid!"  I found it tonight in our schoolroom floor, filled with books.  It was heavy!  I went to move it so I could fold some laundry before I headed to bed, and I thought,"What is in here?" I had to show you... outer pocket- inside big pocket- I am not sure why, but this bag full of history books made my heart swell.  It made me feel so full of love for Michaela...maybe someone has some insight as to why this was so touching.  I want so much for her, even though I don't do the best job to provide the atmosphere that she needs to reach her greatest potential in many ways.  I'm grateful that these days she is able to go with her dad and have a quiet place to study. There are so many things that I could say...my heart feels so full.  But at the end of the day (quite literally) it comes down to this...I love her.  And tomorrow I'm going to tell her first thing.

Houses and Hearts

I can see that I struck a chord (or hit a nerve?) in sharing about my FSS.  Sometimes I wonder if I go too far in putting the details of our (not-so-pretty) lives out there for all the world (or the handful of you who read this stuff!) to see.  There is motivation in it, though, in that one day I'm going to put pictures up of the progress we've been able to make. "The Eye of the Tiger" is playing over and over in my mind for some reason.  It makes me feel strong. Tonight will be brief, because I have enough dishes to wash by hand that it looks like I fed Cox's army-they were set aside last night in order to tackle some of those surfaces!  But I must get to them tonight.  I also want to keep going on my mission.  But first I wanted to share one of the reasons I was nudged into action; you may want to get a box of tissues ready. I like to blog-hop.  I read random blogs every now and then, and a few blogs very regularly.  I enjoy seeing what other people are up to, making up voices for writers I don't actually know, knowing I'm not the only mom/wife out there who is trying hard and not always getting it right or done.  Plus, there are some really funny people out there, and I love to laugh. One of the bloggers I visit is a Compassion International sponsor.  We sponsor two children through World Vision, but I think they are similar organizations as far as their goals for meeting needs as well as sharing the Gospel and offering hope both here and now, as well as eternally.  Compassion International has had teams of bloggers going out and "reporting" back on their experiences, giving a great deal of exposure to the situations they are dealing with/trying to make better, as well as to the sweet, beautiful faces all around the world of those who are suffering in poverty but are living joyfully because of their hope in the Lord.  Back to the blogger I like to visit...she has a link in one (probably a couple) of her posts to the Compassion bloggers' website, which then links you to personal websites of the folks who went on any given trip.  The link I'm sharing here is to a woman who went to India, and her story, and more significantly the story of the girl she meets, is compelling, touching, heart-breaking, and inspiring.  Please take a minute to read this post. When I read that, I was stunned, shamed, and chastened.  I have complained about our homes, especially the last three, because they did not meet my standards in various ways.  I have spent countless hours watching T.V. (when we lived in Louisville, because Mike traveled a lot, the kids went to bed early, and it was company), reading (when we first moved to Texas, because I was depressed and wanted to escape into the world of Les Miserables, The Princess Bride, The Brothers Karamozov, and The Secret Garden), and cruising around the internet as well as keeping up our blog.  The hours spent doing all of these things could have been spent managing my home, preparing for school lessons, preparing to move, unpacking boxes-depending on whatever our situation was at a particular time.  I always apologize to whomever comes knocking at our door, invited or uninvited, because it is always a disaster.  There are pajamas left on the floor; breakfast dishes on the table; magazines, toys, books, papers, and really random stuff on the coffee table or the end table in the living room.  These are habits that should be easy to change but somehow I haven't done it.  I am teaching my children the wrong way to live in and take care of a home for they will undoubtedly follow my example rather than my verbal directions if there is a discrepancy between the two.  And there is. I don't want to beat myself up, because I know that won't help.  Instead I want to change, to be a good steward of what we have, and to have a home that honors the One who provided it for us.  The One who has always provided for us.  The One who gives such joy and humility to those who are already humble that they can give their guests the best that they have to offer with no shame. Now when [Jesus] saw the crowds, he went up on a mountainside and sat down. His disciples came to him, and he began to teach them saying: "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God. Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Matthew 5:1-10 (So much for being brief!  And I didn't even touch on the whole subject of ministering to those in need...)

FSS

One of the many conditions from which I suffer is FLAT SURFACE SYNDROME. Does this affliction plague anyone else?  The symptoms manifest themselves in a variety of ways, but always include items that belong somewhere in particular, but end up on top of a flat surface which is not the actual somewhere that they ought to go. And there they remain for an indefinite but definitely too long period of time.  Most likely they remain because it is easy to leave the items in their present though incorrect location.  There are distractions which lead those suffering from this condition in other directions, in order to tend to more urgent things.  There are the daily tasks which must get done, like dishes or laundry or bathing the children, and so the items remain aliens in a strange land, pilgrims on a long journey that seems like it will never end. These things do have homes, though.  And I am determined to help them find their rightful places and bring peace and harmony to our house as things are set to right. There are the mild cases...

and there are the extreme scenarios...

We have bookshelves...

tables...

 

and countertops...

(The two above examples fall into the extreme category, because they are both hiding behind something else and therefore not prominent, making it even easier to ignore the items; here I would like to enter a plea of unpacking incompetence, by which I cannot be charged guilty in the true sense of the word, and through which I may buy myself a little sympathy as well as time.) These areas are always a source of great irritation, but they can also be an interesting study in human psychology.

How does one end up with a dead cell phone, a watch, a remote control, a lid to a sauce pan, a coaster, a change sorter, some earrings, some Stitch Witchery, and a little Mexican hat all in the same spot?  Don't forget the lotion and the baseball cards. I'll tell you how...it's the path of least resistance.  Or the easy way out.  Or the lazy alternative to following through and putting things where they belong.  It is unusual in that this is both a key cause and symptom of FSS and is almost impossible difficult to treat in many cases. I will be honest with you.  I waffle daily, hourly even, between feeling terminal, hopeless, incurable, and feeling as though a big change were coming, the time is ripe, the time is now for a new way of living.  Tonight I'm feeling the change.  I'm motivated.  I've already got one surface cleared off, and I'm working on a second. I think I'll go with it!  I'll strike while the iron is hot!  I'll make hay while the sun shines!  I'll just do it!  I'll see how many clichés I can use in a single post. Wish me happy putting-things-away!  (We know how this often turns out, as represented by my putting-away-clean-laundry problem...so I really need support here, folks.)