Tell me again: Why Bother?

One thing that my massive clutter clear out has unexpectedly done for me, is give me some time and space to think about my role in my home and my goals for how I want to serve my family here. It's been a bit of an odyssey, actually.  About a year ago, the house felt like the walls were closing in. I just could not seem to keep up. Two friends in particular offered me advice when I solicited it. One of them was local and one was a far-away friend. Both have known me for years. I went looking for home management advice and what I got from both was time management advice. They both said to back away from the computer. Both of these women understood online communities and were part of the same ones I was. And, frankly, their advice surprised me. I couldn't imagine backing away. So, I continued to bumble along, doing the best I could (which wasn't very good) to "balance" homeschooling, general parenting, being a wife, and my outreach on the computer. Oh, and the house. And frankly, the house didn't get much better.

My family and I went to visit another large family. I've known this woman to be gracious and lovely. She is always nicely dressed and her children are always tidy and beautiful. The public areas in the front of her home are neat and welcoming. On this day, though, my husband was going to help with a repair, so we went into the parts of the house which were not public. Everywhere I looked was clutter. There were books and toys strewn about and piled high in the family room. The bathrooms were dingy. Upstairs, the beds were poorly made, if made at all, and the mattresses were sinking. Wallpaper was peeling. It was a shocking experience. Here was someone who clearly placed a great importance on her public image, but in the private parts of her home, there was no care at all. It mattered to her that her home welcome friends, but clearly she did not care to make it a haven for her family.

On the way home, my husband commented that he would not allow his family to live in such a home. This family had the means to make repairs and to maintain the home and the whole thing just really perplexed me. The public persona so conflicted with the private reality. And then, came the epiphany moment. Mike said, "I cannot imagine commuting every day into the city, working well after the dinner hour, and then coming home to that." He went on to explain that he would feel as if his hard work was not appreciated at all. As a provider of a home, he would be discouraged by how little regard his wife and children had for it.

Somewhere during the conversation, I began to understand that it was no longer about the other family, it was about mine. To what did my husband return everyday and how did my home reflect my priorities? Were the public places fine enough and the private places less so? My house did not look like the one we visited, but I definitely was a long way from having my home reflect the respect and appreciation I had for my husband and the sacrifice he was making for our family. Something was way out of balance.

I talked to my friend about her home, gingerly at first. She told me her husband didn't care. She was involved in a half dozen different ministries and he was very supportive of the way she was spending her time. I even asked if I could share this story. She told me to tell you that "apostolic households are always messy." That was the way she was raised and that's the way she's raising her children.

We agree to disagree.  I think our first field of apostolate is to our family. And our homes are the mission field. But I do see that what are priorities in one family might not be the same in another. That level of order and that lifestyle work for her family; she has told me that her husband and even her parents are in accord. That home would not have worked for my family. My husband told me so.

I love the book of Sirach. There are so many nuggets of wisdom for daily living there. We read:

Blessed the husband of a good wife,
    twice-lengthened are his days;
A worthy wife brings joy to her husband,
    peaceful and full is his life.
A good wife is a generous gift
    bestowed upon him who fears the LORD;
Be he rich or poor, his heart is content,
    and a smile is ever on his face.

A gracious wife delights her husband,
    her thoughtfulness puts flesh on his bones;
A gift from the LORD is her governed speech,
    and her firm virtue is of surpassing worth.
Choicest of blessings is a modest wife,
    priceless her chaste soul.
A holy and decent woman adds grace upon grace; 
    indeed, no price is worthy of her temperate soul.  
Like the sun rising in the LORD's heavens,
    the beauty of a virtuous wife in her well-ordered home.

I cannot reconcile these beautiful verses with the idea that being busy with other projects excuses us from welcoming our husbands into well-ordered homes. I'm not talking about a mom with two toddlers and a baby who is struggling to keep up and feels like she's losing the fight. That's a season during which both husband and wife will grow. I'm talking about the veteran mom with a range of ages of children who makes choices every day to neglect her home. That is simply the fruit of bad habits and misplaced priorities.

I want to be a gracious wife, not just a gracious hostess. Not just a lovely face to the public, but a comfort and a blessing to my husband. So, why bother with homemaking? Because God call us to be virtuous wives and He tells us that virtuous wives live in well-ordered homes.

Ouch.

I wish could tell you that after that visit and that conversation with my husband, I reformed my ways, cleaned my house, and became the virtuous wife of Sirach. I didn't. I tried harder, but I still thought I could hang on to some of the bad habits that had gotten me--and my home--into this mess. I allowed myself to become distracted by internet "crises." And then, an honest friend told me that there are no internet crises. Nothing that happens on the internet is a crisis. Actually there are very few real emergencies in any realm of life. There are urgent prayer concerns, but they don't require my presence in front of a screen. She was right; I could not really think of anything that could happen online that truly, truly needed me to rob time and attention from my family. In Sirach, God calls us to "governed speech." Whether on the phone or online, much of what we women engage in isn't governed speech at all, but idle, distracting chatter. We go in search of wisdom and inspiration or to offer encouragement and education and the devil has a field day with the mismanagement of our time.

I prayed hard about what God was saying and how gracious He had been to allow honest women of virtue to speak so frankly to me. I began to see how order and routine and constant, diligent care of our home would bless us all. And I began to see how homemaking called for my full time and attention. I've often heard it said that there are two kinds of large families: very organized ones and very disorganized ones. There is no middle ground. I believe that. I've lived in both. I much prefer the former.

I remember when the message board was founded. I showed my husband the beautiful pages and he was amazed. He did say one thing, though, that I'd nearly forgotten. He said it looked like it had the potential to take a lot of time. I promised him I'd never write there unless the laundry was caught up. And then I promptly forgot the promise. For three years:-).

Now, I understand how important that promise is to keep, even if it means I rarely get to post to online conversations. What I'm doing here in my home is too important. Order precedes beauty. Radiance is the goal.  Our housekeeping routines are crucial to the smooth functioning of our days, our weeks. Life in a well-ordered home does shine. Radiance streams into our lives like the grace of God.  Ordering a home isn't something you do once and it stays that way. Instead, it's a continual commitment. Nutritious meals served predictably and eaten together at a well set table lend a graciousness and civility to everyday life. It's nice to open a drawer and find clothing folded and ready regardless of the day of the week. It's a blessing to go to a closet, see freshly pressed shirts and inhale the sweet smell of herbal ironing spray. It's nice to settle to work at the learning room table and know where all the books are. My family deserves nothing less. Making it so requires all of me.

The Flylady talks about CHAOS--the "Can't Have Anybody Over Syndrome." Certainly, it would be a shame to not be able to have anybody over. But a greater shame, I think, is to neglect the people who actually live in a house by being a poor steward of both time and treasure. A greater shame is for a hard working man to have to pick his way around the mess as he makes his way to a disheveled bedroom. A greater shame is to throw a meal at the kids and run to work on an outside project while they eat.

So why bother with all of this? Because a worthy wife brings joy to her husband, peaceful and full is his life. And her life, too, is full of peace and joy.

 

--reviving this one from the archives today as we work at home. It's Boot Camp week before our autumn rhythm moves into full swing. I'm posting this as a genuine reminder to myself.  We're working hard to prepare the environment for our studies and to establish excellent habits so that each member of this family can serve the others well in the coming term. 

Kitchen Reprise

Once I told someone that if this homeschooling mom gig didn't work out, I'd love to have a cooking show. I like to cook. I like the art and the science of making food taste good and look beautiful. I like messing with presentation. I like to put plates in front of my family that make them slow down and savor the moment. Maybe it's genetic. I come from a long line of Italian cooks who respect the beautiful  .

She scoffed. Scoffed! She actually said that food was just something to make, eat, and clear out of the way. She said she couldn't be bothered with thinking too much about it. She had a family to feed and it was sinful somehow to give food more than its utilitarian thought.

I gulped. Didn't talk to her about food again.

Last year, I relinquished my inner foodie. First, I acknowledged that it didn't play well with all-day-long morning sickness. Then, it didn't hold up to the admonition not to be on my feet more than necessary. Then, it died altogether when I was banished from the kitchen and sent upstairs for 6 weeks of bedrest. After the baby was born, I couldn't really multi-task the premature baby nurturing and tasks that required--well--my hands.

We didn't starve. Remember, the foodie thing is genetic. Almost all of my children appear to have inherited the gene. The jury is still out on the one who puts hot sauce on everything. They COOK, these kids. And they care about presentation. The eight-year-old is particularly fond of finding just the right garnish. 

Now, though, I'm back in the kitchen. I choose menus that are a bit more involved than I probably should. I stand at the counter and do quite a bit of peeling and chopping. I am certain to make a mess as I go. I can almost hear my utilitarian commenter clicking her tongue and telling me that there is no place for creativity in the kitchen, that it's a waste of time and energy. No matter. I find loving, thoughtful creativity has much the same effect in the kitchen as it does in the schoolroom. joy in the beautiful process is contagious and it draws us all in.

I'm not in the kitchen alone. Ever. The creative process and the creative product draw my children to me. They want to help. They see the joy that cooking brings and the want to be a part of it. And there we are, busy creating, when something else happens. They start to talk. Big ones. Little ones. They instinctively know that that recipe with all those steps will hold me here in this sunny yellow room. I will not leave. I will not turn away. I will listen. And they can be assured that I will hear the subtle seasoning in their stories. I will be attuned to the questions they hope to be asked. I will the mom in the apron who knows that it's not about the white sauce at all. It's about the inevitable conversation that happens around good food. It happens at the table, of course. We eat as a family and never are at a loss for words. But the intimate conversation, the sharing of hearts, happens over nearly-bubbling milk, whisk in hand.

I take the time to consider food. To consider cost. To consider skills. To consider time. To consider cleanup. And I decide again and again to choose the thoughtful, creative approach. Because, really, there are so many ways our children need to be nourished. Food is just the beginning.

~from the archives because I'm thinking these thoughts again today.

My Latest Obsession

When my sister and I were little, we played this game called "house." But it wasn't your typical "house." We would pretend that we were grownups with husbands and babies. Still sounds typical. We'd gather dolls and doll accoutrements. Still typical. And then, we would sit for hours with the Ethan Allen catalog and "pick out our houses." We kept lists. The whole idea was that when we played house, we were supposed to pretend that we were the kitchen on page 94 or the green and white sunroom on page 112. Hours, I tell you. We spent hours clipping pictures and making lists.

So, a few nights ago I had a text conversation with my sister, who is now a pretty amazing interior decorator with a gigantic fancy house and a sunroom that looks exactly like the one remember in the catalog.

Krysti: Hey. <<snip--chatter ya'll woudln't really understand>>

Me: <<snip. Chatter back>> I was just about to call you anyway. In need of massive redecorating here. Will you help me?

Krysti:  Tell me when. Give me a budget and a color scheme. <huge joke there--"budget" has a different meaning for each of us;-)>

Me: Whenever you can come. Are you still living at the beach?

Krysti: Let me know what types of rooms and color so I can start to pull stuff.

Me: The whole house needs repainting and reupholstering and drapes and probably furniture.

Krysti: What colors do you like?

Me: Handmade by Benjamin Moore. After that, it's all about the bluebells and maybe some red. And there's my pottery.

Krysti: So navy grey with cranberry or tan?

Huh? Who said that? Where's the Ethan Allen catalog? I need a point of reference.

Me:  You have to come see. 

Krysti: Do you have an idea notebook?

Me: Oh. My. Goodness. I do. I'll send you a link.

And so I introduced my sister to the 2011 version of our favorite "picking our houses" childhood game:

 Pinterest

I went to the Fat Quarter Shop and started pinning colors. And now I'm obsessed. With color and with the Fat Quarter Shop. And I don't even quilt. Yet. But I have a quilt design wall on Pinterest. Because I will. Oh yes, I will. I know I will because I had this sense that my sister and I were about a mile off on understanding exactly what I was shooting for. So I googled decorating style definitions and found the one that best suited me. Or the me I want to be:

Country Cottage:

This style is relaxed and casual.  Think cozy farmhouse with warm woods, rustic furniture and antiques  {that's the nicest way to say my house is full of my extended family's very nice hand-me-downs}.  Use colors of red, green, blue and yellow with floral, striped and checked fabrics.  Accessories include quilts, stoneware pottery, twig baskets, embroidered linens and books.

 

Well, I've got the books, the baskets, and plenty of stoneware. I'm embroidering. Obviously, I must learn  to quilt. And to assemble a lovely collection of floral, striped and checked fabrics. While I'm finding links for Krysti, I might as well plan Christmas projects.

How's this collection for this snuggly throw?

Fat quarter shop 3

The Fat Quarter Shop is an online quilt shop that specializes in yardage, fat quarter bundles, charm packs, jelly rolls, quilt kits and patterns. And they cater to those of us --ahem--impulsive types who want to start yesterday. They ship every order the same day to customers all over the world!

The Fat Quarter Shop was founded in 2003 by Kimberly Jolly. An avid quilter, Kimberly began her shop as a side business while still working a corporate position. She was cutting, packing and shipping right out of her house during evenings and nights. From the very beginning, she committed to delivering top-notch service for every single order and customer. As the Fat Quarter Shop’s reputation grew, Kimberly decided to make it a full-time operation. Her husband Kevin joined her not long after, and with his help, lots of hard work, and a tireless commitment, the store began to grow.

Personally, once I get to the site, I sort of get sucked in. Who knew there were so many color and print possiblities? So many ways to make so many pretty things? It's an eye candy feast. 

Fat quarter shop 1
 (this color scheme for the kitchen and family room? too cutesy?-- )

A great way to keep up-to-date with Fat Quarter's latest sales, specials and giveaways (and so to build a stash) is by following their blog, the Jolly Jabber  or by joining them on Twitter or Facebook.

They have a user-friendly website that makes it easy to find any collection, designer, manufacturer or theme. And they are super-friendly and super-enthusiastic in the customer service department. If you ever have a question about a fabric, quilt kit or need help just figuring it all out, they are there with expert, friendly accessible help.

Studio
(the studio? -- Proper Promenade)

 

Sunroom
(the kitchen and sunroom and maybe family room?--Gleam Flower Sugar)

So I pin. And pin. And pin. And pin. And my project list grows and grows and grows. I'm secretly hoping for a blizzard that snows us in all winter. Then, I can justify my stash and have plenty of time to create.

 

Fat quarter shop 4

(wouldn't this fabric collection make the cutest baby quilt ever? there's a kit for that you know.)

I'm so going to learn to quilt.

 

 

 

 

Yarn Along: Slow Going

It's gray outside this morning as I write to you. I have half a dozen indoor things on my list, but I'm wrestling with the idea that the garden needs a good weeding and it's finally cool enough to do it. What to do?

My knitting has slowed to a snail's pace. I'm not sure why. I made a pretty major mistake and didn't discover it until 8 rows later. Knowing that with double strands and lots of increases and decreases between me and the error 8 rows back there was a good chance I'd irrevocably mess it all up, I called a knitting friend and we --ahem-- did the math. I've done more math in the last six months than in the last 26 years. The jury is still out on whether our rescue was successful, but I very much enjoyed the leisurely late evening conversation. I need to get past the sleeve divide and try it on Katie and see whether it's too bulky through the yoke. It's hard to tell on these cables.

It's been a lovely summer of slow stitching in both yarn and thread. I haven't minded the heat at all and rather embraced the opportunity it has granted to stay inside and feather my nest a bit. I have oh-so-many thoughts on hearth and home percolating around in my brain! I know that as the days cool the pace will quicken. There will be more knitting and less sewing because the knitting can go with me hither and yon to some of the most beautiful soccer parks in the country. It will be very pleasant company while I wait for games to begin and training sessions to finish. Right now, I'm happily humming at home, very much enjoying the slow.

DSC_0884

In the comments section of this post, I mentioned one of my all-time favorite books, The Hurried Child. I read this book in college and, together with Miseducation, by the same author,  it probably had the greatest influence on my thoughts about childhood of any book at the time. And I read a whole lot of child development books! It was a new book then, in its first printing. The 25th Anniversary Edition brings it into a new century and really, when I stop to consider it, it is astonishing how much more the culture works to hurry children than it did just 25 years ago. (Incidentally, neither book is a homeschooling book.) Back then, I thought Dr. Elkind had a very solid argument and I set about to find educational philosophies that preserved the dew of childhood long enough to ensure that faithful souls and creative spirits were well watered. Now, the challenges are considerably more formidable. In a lovely twist of poetry, I re-read my cherished first edition paperback of  Miseducation last week, while I read the 25th Anniversary Edition of the Hurried Child on Kindle. The times are a-changing so very quickly. We simply must keep up--and slow down. Childhood itself is at stake.

Go visit Ginny for more knitting and reading yarns.