The Last Time

Tomorrow, my littlest man will wake up as a big 11-month-old.
Tonight was probably the last time nursing will be a part of our bedtime routine.
Tomorrow morning will probably be the last time I ever nurse a baby.

This is the longest I have ever nursed and more than anything, I am thankful.

Thankful that God has given me the ability to nurse 4 beautiful children for a total of 41 1/2 months.

Thankful that God has allowed us to farm and produce healthy, raw milk to give my kids as they wean.

Thankful for my devoted husband who faithfully milks our goats twice a day for 8 months out of the year to provide nourishment for our family.

It is still bittersweet, though.

I know I will never, barring Divine intervention, birth another child, and therefore never nurse another sweet baby.

As my littlest man has decided to cram all of his milestones into this month - walking, talking, weaning, adding teeth, pushing up to standing in the middle of the floor - I keep telling time to Please Slow Down!  I can't take this growing up stuff!

And it's not just the baby.  As a dear friend reminded me this week, my oldest is almost halfway to being an adult.  This sweet child that made me a mother.  She had the audacity to get halfway grown in the blink of an eye!

I'm sitting here in tears because I'm torn.  Do I take milk production enhancers to squeeze just a little more time out?  Or do I accept that having to take allergy meds (that reduce production) along with a quickly dwindling supply is just the way it is?  That I've had enough warning to prepare myself for this part of our journey to be over.

How many times have I been exasperated because he needed to nurse again.  Ah, Time.  She is a cruel mistress.

I'm so thankful that tonight when I gave G his supplemental bottle after he nursed that he didn't want to just hold it like usual.  He still wanted to snuggle with Mommy.  Like he knew I needed it, probably more than he needed that bottle.

Oh, God!  This is so hard.  Watching time pass by is so much harder than the daily frustrations that perturb me.  I'm not ready!  I'm not ready for my babies to grow up!  I'm not ready to be out of this phase of my life!

That's all I have.  No sweet wrap-up.  No moral.  Just tears and prayers tonight.

I refuse to make my kids' childhood "magical"

aka: Relationships are most important

I have a dear friend that is battling crazy postpartum hormones.  I have been trying to visit with her on a regular basis to help her not feel so alone (since it's easy to feel alone out here in the country).  

On one of these occasions, she lamented that she felt bad because she wasn't spending time with her older two kids.  On another occasion, she asked me how I play with my older kids or otherwise keep them busy.  

I felt a teeny pang of guilt.  My middle two watch PBS.  A lot.  Especially more than I want to admit publicly.  (The TV is on a lot, but my kids don't really watch it all that much, it's really on because my 4-year-old can't tell time, but is my anxious child.  He knows our schedule based on what show is on. I highly recommend this method for anxious children.  It truly created peace in our home!)  Besides TV, I rarely get down on the floor and play with them, though I do love to go and see what kind of things my son has constructed and see my younger daughter's latest performance.  Should I feel guilty?  

I feel guilty because I don't feel guilty.  The definition of Mom-Guilt.

I started thinking about it and I realized that I am not going to go monitor my kids' playtime.  Yes, I am making an intentional effort to build relationships with each of my kids individually and altogether, but that isn't the only job I have here.  

It's all about relationships.  

I want my kids to be best friends.  If not besties, then at least close.  I want them to want to get together when they've moved out of the house.  I want them to go to their siblings for advice when they just can't come to Mom and Dad yet.  I want them to tell their sibs about their latest crush before they bring him/her home to Meet the Parents.  

This kind of relationship takes time.  Time together after lights out.  Time when the other kids are busy with school.  Time when Mom and Dad are busy with farm chores.  

So, why would I go run referee and potentially damage that relationship building process?  No, I will let them play together, fight together, learn to work together.  I choose to not feel guilty about leaving them to their own imaginations.  I choose to let them play with the only other people in this house that are experts at being kids - because that's what I want my kids to be!  I don't need to make my kids' childhood magical.  If I leave them to their imaginations, it already is!  

This brings up some other, more controversial points.  Extra-curriculars.  Especially for us homeschool families.  We must enroll in extra-curriculars for socialization.  Our children will not be socialized if they do not interact with other children.  

If you've been around the homeschool block a while, you know that argument is a load of poo.  First of all, most importantly, society is made up of all different ages and types of people, therefore socialization should be teaching children how to interact with all types of people, not just people their own age.  Along those lines, my kids interact with society pretty much everywhere - the grocery store, co-op, church, all other errands... - without picking up all those nasty habits kids in classrooms tend to pick up from their peers.  

So where does this leave us on extra-curriculars?  Well, I say let your kids pursue their interests, but not to the detriment of their relationships with their family.  

True Story: My little brother is a punk.  The End.

Haha, just kidding.  Well, not about the punk part....  He is a punk, always has been.  Typical, annoying little brother.  If you've read Dr. Leman's Birth Order Book, he perfectly fits the "first-born male/baby" scenario.  But, once we were old enough to stay home alone during the summer, I have some amazing memories of us.  It was like, if we were forced to stay indoors and endure each other, we might as well make the most of it.  We built elaborate spy hide-outs, police academies, we ate at our own 'diner' everyday for lunch.  It was a ball. My dad remembers bits of it, and I know he loved that we played together (for once), but David and I lived it.  But once school started, extra-curriculars were in full gear, we were back to being enemies.  

I look back now that we are estranged and my childhood family has basically dissolved, and I would have given up every ballet class, every friend from school, every 'character building' activity just to be able to call my brother and hang out, reminiscing about the 'old days.'  I would give anything for that.  Just to call him up and talk.  For him to teach my kids the art of building a super-secret-spy-computer out of cardboard.  To tell the story over and over of how he once was so distraught he wasn't a girl that he asked me to make him a ponytail out of paper to wear taped to his head. (David, if that story gets back to you, serves you right, punk.  Call your sister.)

Your kids are the only people who will know what it's like growing up in your house.  And someday that will mean a lot more than some 'enrichment' activity.  

It's all about relationships.  Make sure you're allowing your kids to build ones that matter.  

Homeschool Moms' Winter Summit

My friend, Megan talked me into coming, and I thought, it'll be a nice break from the winter doldrums. I've been to a couple homeschool conventions, been to lots of seminars, webinars, read countless blogs, so I was really going just for a 'mommy break'. Time away from the everyday pressures of my husband, house, and kids. 

You are probably thinking the same thing if you've seen all my posts on Facebook.  

But here's the deal.  You don't know NOTHIN'. 

This summit absolutely blessed me from the first moment to the last. And not in an "I'm-away-from-my-kids-for-more-than-two-minutes-and-I-am-speaking-to-other-adults" kinda way. Noooooo.  

A life-changing way,  

Ladies, I walked into that conference center burdened.  Burdened and struggling and past my breaking point.  If you see me in real life and not just on the interwebs, you may not have seen that side.  But my husband and my kids can tell you that Nazi-mom had taken permanent residence in our home and I hated it (and I'm pretty sure they did too).  I expected guilt over all that I was doing wrong - my attitude, my (lack of) quiet times, my general not-doing-enough. So the walls went up.  I was expecting to learn ways to "Mom" better, to homeschool better. Get the practical tips, maybe one of them would magically transform my problems. 

Then Roxanne Parks gets up and says that the problems I'm having originate from the person sitting in my chair.  OUCH.  Here we go with the guilt.  Or so I thought.

I was wrong, ladies.  These speakers and leaders.  They've been there. They cast no stones.  There was no guilt. There was only God's words flowing from these amazing women.  It was a soothing balm, not needles poking.

Roxanne challenged us to not waste our time and money by just hearing what was said, but to leave a different woman.  

I cannot describe what happened in the last 28 hours other than that God's hand was resting on the Embassy Suites in Norman, Oklahoma. 

4 hours after walking through the door, expecting the ordinary, I was weeping, having been confronted by the Almighty. 

The workshops, the speakers, the entire summit did not really revolve around homeschooling. It's hard to really describe, other than this: homeschool moms have unique challenges and burdens. But this summit wasn't really practical tips for those, it was merely a group of women that understood those challenges and burdens. 

The summit was really about relationships. Relationships with your husband. Relationships with your kids. And a relationships with your Creator.  

If you know any mom that doesn't struggle with those things, you obviously don't know any moms. 

So here I am, in my car, 28 hours after walking in, letting these words pour out of me because I'm pretty sure my head and heart will explode if I don't type N-O-W. Now.  

At the closing address, Roxanne asked if you had one word to describe this weekend.  The room was silent.  But I had one.  

Life-changing

My life is changed.  I will never be the same. God used every word spoken this weekend to feed my dry and thirsty and weary soul. My burdened, battered, ready-to-give-up heart. I have new hope. I have TRUE hope.  

I choose the easy yoke. 

So, why am I telling you this?  Really for one reason.  You should be here next year. 

"But, Lindsay, I don't homeschool!"  

Do you have a husband? Children? Then you'll be blessed by this as well. 

"But the cost!" 

Worth.  Every.  Penny. And this is from a spend-thrift. The first night made the cost worth it.  There are hundreds of door prizes, gift bags, a real, actual, adult meal on Saturday, snacks, amazing speakers, and TIME AWAY FROM THOSE LITTLE HEATHENS... Ahem, children.  Trust me.  You will not feel like you've been cheated in any way. 

"But my children are perfect angels and my husband and I have the most ah-maze-ing marriage after 390 years of being together."  

You are a liar and that means you should most definitely come. You need a come to Jesus moment. And also, I might have just thrown up a little. 

"But I'm too old/my kids are too young/whatever"
Pooh.  Like you can't impart wisdom or get wisdom for later.

There is one reason, and one reason only why you should not attend this summit.  

You ready?

The only reason you should not attend this summit is...............

If you have a Y chromosome.  That's right.  This is a girls only conference, so men, just back away.  

Otherwise, no excuses, ladies.  Make plans.  I do not get paid, compensated, acknowledged in any way for telling you this.  This is my ministry to you.  You need this. Promise. And you probably know someone else who needs it too. So invite them. Carpool. Get matching shirts and be adorable like that.  Have a slumber party at the hotel, because it is pretty awesome.  Or. Bring the whole family and let the hubby take care of the kids while you enjoy other adult companionship. Hubby can take them to the awesome indoor pool while you find your peace. 

Just be here next year. 

http://www.homeschoolwintersummit.com/

10 YEARS!

Today, I celebrate my 10th wedding anniversary.  10 years!  10 years, in this culture of "starter marriages" and self-serving and "irreconcilable differences" seems like forever.  I have been married for 10 years to the man who is not of my dreams.

Yes, you read that right.  Mr. P is not the man of my dreams.

He is super organized. I am not. (Understatement of the century, I know.  Quit snorting)

He says what he means and means what he says.  I err on the side of kindness.

He doesn't like spicy food.  I am totally fine with my mouth being on fire.

He would prefer meat and potatoes for every meal.  I get bored with the same meals and want variety.

He has had the same haircut for 12 years.  I change my hair every 6 months (at least!).

He was/is a jock.  I was/am a band nerd.

He doesn't read much, only educational materials.  I read a lot, and mostly fiction.

He doesn't like to travel.  I have a good case of wanderlust.

He is concrete sequential.  I am creative.

He is the epitome of the waffle.  I am the epitome of spaghetti.

He's the fun parent.  I'm the stern one.

He is detail oriented.  I look at the big picture.

I could go on and on and on about how Sam and I are polar opposites.  I dreamed of a man that would appreciate music with me, that would understand my creativity, that would encourage my need for change.

Instead, God sent me a man that played the bass drum in middle school because he had to enroll in band and had no musical sense at all.  He prefers functionality over form.  He needs stability and doesn't like change.

 I am so thankful that God didn't send me the man of my dreams.  God gave me a precious gift by sending the man who would perfectly compliment me.  He makes sure my dreams are grounded in reality, but instead of squashing them, helps me work through the details to make them happen. He indulges my crazy pursuits, like homesteading and having a larger-than-average family.  He is a Godly man that I am proud to call my husband.  He is a man that makes me grow and mature in ways that I didn't think I could.

He has shown me what unconditional love looks like.

10 years
9 years of being in small group
8 years as parents
7 Hovind videos
6 animal species
5 small groups
4 kids
3 houses
2 losses
1 incredible marriage

I am so blessed to be married to this man.