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I like to be in control.

Control Freak would aptly describe me ten years ago and I only hope that it would be a more of an overstatement today.

My guess is that the need to control came from a childhood and adolescence when things and people around me never felt secure and I was consumed by fear of what might be coming the next moment, the next day.  So by the time I reached college 14 years ago I was ready for control over my life, to blot out the fear.  I determined my day.  And if my plans went astray, I pouted, I sulked, and everyone knew about it.

Enter husband.

An entire other being to co-habit my space.  My heart.  A person so close as to be a mirror to my every move, to threaten my security, challenge my control.  That day the Lord began His good work in me.   To show the goodness of a life out of my control.

Enter child #1.  I couldn’t control breastfeeding, or really most aspects of my day even though I tried hard with schedules and books that told me what to do.  The books only encouraged the idea that I could attain total control with the right methodology.  So the stretching got more uncomfortable.  And I fought back-with words, with anger, with food.

Enter child #2 and medical problems way beyond our hands.  I think this is when the Lord began to break me (for His good and mine).  Though I was too tired to notice.

Enter child # 3.  This was a time of breakthrough, when I was finally able to hear the Lord’s instructions if a day wasn’t going my way.  I was finding on more days than not I was able to adjust rather than let the whole day be ruined.  What a life changing gift.  When friends commented to me “You’re so laid back and patient.  I don’t think I could manage three children.” I answered truthfully from my heart “It’s been with each child that the Lord has taught me more patience, more letting go.” And I meant it. But I also let pride sneak into my heart.  My heart swaggered with a “Hey, I’ve got the hang of this letting go thing. Glad that’s not a problem for me anymore.”

Enter my father’s mental illness.

Enter 4th pregnancy with 5 months of sickness followed by arrival of 4th child.  More than the fingers on my hands I heard “Well, you already have 3, what’s one more? I bet it will be easy.”  I hope I remember never to say that to a mother.  Maybe it was because we were 4 years out of the life of a baby when Sparkles arrived or maybe the Lord just knew he had some more work to do on my heart, but this has been a tough transition for all of us.  Sparkles hasn’t been difficult.  Oh my goodness she is the happiest, most loveable little thing and we’re all in love with her.  But my days went like this in my head:

“How do I get any chores done?  I guess we’ll do them this weekend.

How do I get a little more rest?  I guess I’ll take another hot bath it’s only 1 am.

How do I get school done and make dinner? Let’s go out.

Oh finally it’s the weekend we can relax.  Wait we have all of the un-done chores from the week to do-$%#((#)@)@@)!”

This culminated a few weeks ago when my 8 year old started crying at the breakfast table and then said “This morning is so stressful.  Our weekends are always stressful and you’re always frustrated.”

And the Lord broke me again.  But everyday of the next week He tenderly put me back together again.  He called me to His Word, lovingly but firmly.  He showed me my pride at having thought I was done growing in this area.  He showed me He never intends for me to have it all together but to need Him every day.  He showed me I was carrying a standard to high for me or my family and it was making us feel like failures.  He showed me how the need to control has been growing stronger as a defense to all the parts of my life fighting for my attention.

A life of a wife and mother is not about control. It’s not about the best system to organize the house and the laundry(though that can help).  It’s about God’s grace in being able to see what’s most important about each day.  I might need to go to bed with a messy living room so I can snuggle with Mr. Darcy on the couch or skip doing the chores on the chart so that the kids and I can read books in our pajamas.  I might need to let the 4 year old play the drums while the girls sing vbs songs and know that there will be quiet later.

When I see a mom who looks like she has it all together I feel less than what I’m supposed to be-I start to question myself and wonder how I can be more perfect – the perfect wife, teacher, mother, friend.  But when I see a mom whom I respect, who has children that are obedient and joyful and the family clearly cares about the world around themselves-and I see her make a mistake(and not try to hide, even share it on purpose),  I feel freedom.  I feel like I can try to walk in her footsteps-because she walks with the Lord’s grace.  And that’s what I want people to see when they see me-not super mom, not a mom who has great control, but a mom who knows her limitiations and gives the rest to God.

The past weekend at church the Lord confirmed what He is teaching me.  One of our elders asked me how the transition to 4 was going and I shared that it had been a continuing letting go of control.  He answered, “That’s right and then we realize the belief that we have control is really an illusion anyway.”

I can feel it, I’m getting in planning mode.  Re-organzing the school room in my head, printing off sheets for my planner, finalizing curriculum choices for the fall.

One area that I’m still undecided is science.  At the end of last year we started Apologia, which has it’s on set of pros and cons.  This year I’ve got my eye on Noeo Science and just today learned about these Unit Nature Studies.  Right now Shining Dawn Books is hosting a contest, maybe you or I will get to try out their products free!  If not, they still look more than worth the money.

Ideas for writing occur throughout my day.  No one told me that multi-tasking as a mother included the ability to sift through blog ideas while serving breakfast, wiping up spit-up, reading a book out loud, and listening to Schoolhouse Rocks.  Of course, composing sentences in my head does not make a posted blog with meditative thoughts and witty anecdotes.  Sadly, each day, several potential blogs fall to the wayside, only the strongest survive by 10pm and even the most persistent might not win out against a cozy couch and a netflix.  Here’s a few from the weekend:

1 When I Became My Mother or 10 Things I Hate About Shopping

2 The Battle Has Begun: Fighting For My Daughter’s Body Image

3 The Five Best Places To Kiss a Baby

4 Weird, Unsocialized, Homeschoolers: Here We Go Again

5 What I Wish Someone Had Told Me When I Was Almost 9

6 Laughing At the Days to Come: The Lord Teaches Me Through the Mouth of a Babe

7 Useful Skills Children Were Taught Back in the Day but Now They Play the Wii (or how I wished I’d learned to sew)

8 Forget the Kids, Let Me Tell You What I’ve Learned Since We Began Homeschooling: Finding a Wider World

9 Doing Something Creative Every Day and Yes, That Might Include Finger Painting

10 8 years Into Parenting and I Still Know Next to Nothing

Which one should I have written?

One of the best parts of my day is going to get Sparkles after her nap(of which there are still several a day, so that makes for multiple moments to look forward to).  First, I hear the sounds.  Mr.  Darcy calls them her “cooing feet”, because if I follow the sounds to her room and open the door, I see this:

Wonderfully, perfect feet sticking straight up in the there-I think we enjoy them almost as much as she does.  And then after  I take a moment to admire the feet, I peek over the crib and I’m greeted with this amazing face:

(no, these two pictures are not taken from her crib, but they give a true life representation of the perfect miracle that greets me every time)

The kids have figured out how much fun it is to make Sparkles smile and laugh and as I carry her around the house I’m trailed by sisters and a brother calling, “Hiiiiiiii, Sparkles, hiiii, that’s a nice smile!” Sweet, sometimes tiring, but very sweet.

I thought if I ever visited Narnia, I would be on the lookout for Aslan, having tea with Mr Tumnus, and taking sewing lessons from Mrs. Beaver.  But when I finally got there, I had to turn my back on Aslan and follow the White Witch.  What else is a mom to do when her daughter is an ogre in the witch’s army?  Become a fan!

This week Mookie went to drama camp.  This girl has been directing plays and making props since she was two(okay maybe younger), but I have to say it was exciting to see that after spending time doing improv games and acting out scenes, she still loves it.  At the end of the week, she had her first ever stage performance in The Lion, the Witch, and Wardrobe.

So we got a little excited for her.  And donned some appropriate clothing for the big night.

We made these shirts the night before the show, at around 11pm .  Mr. Darcy was sick with a cold and sounded like Darth Vader, and still he not only came up with a slogan about ogre underpants, but actually put it on his shirt to wear out in public. It was hands down the family favorite.  Now that’s a father’s true love.

The next day some friends came over to help micah transform into her ogre-ness. She’s never had anyone take the time to work out a hairstyle, paint her nails, and do her make-up.  What a day.

Even mom and sister got a tattoo.

A defeated night for the witch’s army, a victory for Mookie-she’ll always remember her first play.