Ode to the First Day of School (or Why I Love a Schedule)

I cannot stand those days
When the husband calls and asks,
“What's going on at home today?
Have you accomplished any tasks?”

“Well, let me see,” I say at last
For surely there must be
Something accomplished, something done
By little 'ol homemaking me.

“Alas,” I sigh, I cannot think
Of anything worthy of sharing.
“I surely spent my time somehow.”
My ego is despairing.

For all I seem to be able to claim
As the day turns into night
Is that the children were somewhat meagerly fed
And didn't kill one other as they might.

No one died or broke out in hives
Or needed glue or stitches.
So all in all the day was great
And transpired with very few glitches.

How can hours and hours go by
And stress me to no end
And nothing get accomplished?
What does this portend?

Whoever said of summer
It's lazy days refresh
Has not lived inside my house
Or dwelled inside this flesh.

Well, excuse me if I'm prudish
But I really don't agree.
A fairly rigid schedule
Is just the thing for me.

You see, I have these little ducks
As many of you know.
And, boy, this mama's much more calm
When they're lined up in a row.

For lazy days are wonderful
Once or twice a year.
But give me days of structured work
And see me jump and cheer.

So bring it on: the school, the chores,
the grumblin' and complainin.'
I'd take it happily any day
Over these summer days of playin'.

I've bought stacks of paper for making lists
(Don't any of you summer-lovers scoff)
And eagerly anticipate the coming days
Of happily crossing things off!

Wordless Wednesday (2002)

So Thankful...

(14) The ability, by God's grace, to mark the one-month anniversary of Thurston's death with more smiles than tears.



(15) A tangle of boy parts, age 1 to adult-size, screaming, wrestling, enjoying each other.

(16) New cuddly creatures who purr.



(17) Apologies given over graciously and without prompting.

(18) Happy birthday wishes from good old faithful friends (as well as from new friends).

An Important Choice

Drudgery.

I've been turning that word over in my head much of late. Perhaps it's the seemingly endless school planning that I know must get done in order to ensure a smooth year. Or maybe it's the warm weather that keeps us inside more often than not. Or the fact that there always seems to be more month than money, and more payees than pennies. Or perhaps it's that our neighbors all seem to be executing HGTV-style landscaping projects and our back yard remains a grass-less dust bowl. Or that I have been so astonishingly exhausted. Or that I miss spending time with my husband, seeing old friends, petting my beagle.

Whatever the reason, my mind is chronically flirting with that word, that feeling that mischievously seeks to weigh down and drown me in... well... me. Self-pity. Selfishness. Sin.

thefreedictionary.com tells us that drudgery means uninteresting work that must get done. Well, I think that nails it pretty well. But who is it that decides a certain tasks interestingness? Ah, that ultimately is the question. For instance, my husband loves to take complex technology apart, piece by piece, and reassemble it because he finds it fun.

I, on the other hand, would prefer a root canal.

I have chosen that particular task as an uninteresting one. He has not.

I could sit for hours and hand quilt a design on a baby blanket. Yet, I am confident in predicting that my husband would find not one iota of pleasure in such torture.

So, I am happy to report that this slow-witted pilgrim has finally figured out what many of you (I am confident) have already learned:

Drudgery is a choice.
I assign any given task the label mundane.

Scripture is not silent on this matter:

“Whatever you do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks through Him to God the Father.” (Colossians 3:17)

“Whatever you do, do your work heartily, as for the Lord rather than for men...” (Colossians 3:23)

When I am working as though the Lord were the recipient, when I am giving thanks through my Savior, can I really consider any task drudgery? If I set to work with a song in my heart, thrilled to be able to serve my King in any way, can any task be mundane? Have I not received so much more than I could ever conceive of offering? Am I not the debtor? Am I not the freed slave?

So diaper changes, piles of laundry, and excel spreadsheets are regarded a little differently in that light. Dishes, baths, and cooking a reason for rejoicing. Disciplining, bills, and husband-less nights an opportunity for humble joy.

I pray to God for a strengthened faith which identifies each and every job done and word spoken as an act of worship. That the word drudgery be forever banished in my interpretation of my redeemed life.

Wordless Wednesday

It's a good thing he's cute.

This post falls under the "it's a good thing he's cute" category of parenting. You see that defiant fist? Oh yeah, baby. We got a whole lot of that going on round here.

"For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God." Romans 3:23

Yes, 18 month-olds are definitely among them.

At least mine is.

I just spent 15 minutes collecting all of the keys from Gustav's laptop which Kurt liberated. Yes, they were sprinkled about the office. When caught, he was recording a little message for Daddy on his voice recorder.

I think I have a techno-wizard on my hands.


Or a terrorist.


Jury's out.