Inhale

 

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Autumn is my favorite season.  The last few autumns have been stressful, strained, or just completely out of sync. I’ve wanted to embrace the fullness of the season, but I’ve been distracted. Not this year. This year, it is autumn and I am inhaling it for all its worth.

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After a bit of a detour, we have settled into a comfortable learning cadence. I’m happy with our reading and writing choices. I’m even happy with math (well, as happy as I am able to be).  Our days have a predictable, if busy, rhythm. Mornings are well-protected from the din and demands of the outside world. Late afternoons are a social whirl. But the days are growing shorter and the darkness comes earlier and my home glows in the sweet anticipation of long stretches of time devoted to hearth and home.  Even the dizzying whirl will slow to a gentle waltz.

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I’m finding joy in simple things and inhaling the rich aromas of the season. There is no smell more intoxicating to me than the smell of autumn in the air. “Sweet Shendandoah”—the scent of leaves and wood fires and perhaps a bit of mold on a serpentine wall. I love that smell.  With the leaves and the fires, layer the spicy sweetness of pumpkin bread and the honeyed headiness of beeswax and, soon, all the world is aglow in the loveliness of autumn.

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We spent some late October afternoons recently bringing the season into our home. Inspired by Ginny’s lovely leaves, we gathered some of our own.

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All of my children and I found quiet satisfaction in slowly lowering bright leaves into liquid beeswax and waiting for it to stop dripping before carefully placing it on wax paper.

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We threaded it on a garland and hung it from the dining room light. 

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I smell the sweetness and delight in the color as I sit at the dining room table, tutoring one child at a time. The others are in the sunroom, where all our “school stuff” resides. They can work independently in there. Then, one by one, they have their turn with me—to read or write or edit.

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Sarah Annie and Karoline play nearby at the nature table, happy gnomes and felted fairies gladly giving inspiration to their imagination.

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We didn’t stop with the garland. It was as if we could not get enough of the goodness of those leaves. We dipped another basket’s worth and they grace the nature table. From my “teacher spot,” my eye falls upon them frequently and I marvel at the unique, perfect beauty of each one.

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God is so good! His gorgeous grandeur spills over into every corner of this house.

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At the other end of the room is the couch where I began my day. Karoline likes to curl up there with me before everyone else is awake. She always wants me to read a preview of the day’s Bible story. I think she likes being a step ahead of the rest of the pack. All the Bible storybooks and several versions of Bibles reside in the tables on either side of the couch. They are read frequently here in this room, either silently or aloud together. 

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Right near the couch, the desk stands open, bearing full testimony to the great cloud of witnesses who intercede for us all year, but are remembered particularly in this season.  Icons and dear little folk dolls glow in the candlelight.

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Between visits from each child, I glance up from my "teacher spot." Inhale. Fill both lungs with the richness of this life of faith.  We are praying the novena to all saints as a family, and I am revisiting my particular friends in private prayer time. The desk full of images reminds me of their care and nurturing, just as the pictures of my family nearby evoke memories and whispered prayers.

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I love this room.

 

I love this home.

 

I love this life.

About Homemaking

I'm still working my way through very old mail. There is a recurrent theme there, one of questions about homemaking routines and chores and such. Perhaps I can answer several of those at once.

When I set about to be intentional about keeping my home clean and orderly, I began by defining for myself what constituted clean and orderly. I put myself in the shoes of an eight- or ten-year-old child and made a detailed list of what "job well done" looked like in every room. I did this when my first child was about ten. Those lists have undergone some changes over the years. We've moved and rooms have been repurposed and there was that year when I was using all those vinegar cleaners. After we learned that we were breeding fruit flies in all our drains because they just love vinegar, all the "wet" directions were completely overhauled. Still, the work and the thought of all those years ago stands me in good stead today.

My house is not perfect by any stretch of the imagination. My friend Linda loves to remind me that it's never a day away from company ready, though. What she means is that we do live in it and on most days there is evidence of such life, but if I had to, I could stop on any given morning and have it ready for company by day's end. That means that if I have a sense on any day that Mike is having a bad day and that coming home to a house that looks like it's ready for company would be a blessing, I can do that (given enough notice). That's my measure of acceptable.

So, what do the lists look like? The first drafts were just ordinary Word documents. The latest version reflects Mary Beth under the influence of Katherine. They're very pretty. I'm not sure how much use the PDFs will be, because every home and family is different in the details, but here they are. 

Download Chores1(2)

Download Acleankitchen

Download Basement

Download Livingroom and Diningroom

Download Mudroom,office,foyer,bathroom,stairs

I keep a copy of each of them in my master notebook. Then, I post one in every room. The bathroom list is inside the cabinets in the bathroom. The kitchen list is on the fridge. The bedroom lists are inside the bedroom doors. The mudroom/office/foyer/bathroom one is in the office that is sort of central to that whole area. They aren't really for public perusal, but the child sent to clean a room knows where to look to be certain that his idea of clean and my idea of clean are one in the same.

Finally, there is a chart of chore assignments. It's pretty simple, or it was before Paddy left. We still struggle for manpower at the top. Truth be told, I'm mostly absorbing his jobs. Michael will return home for a season or so after graduation in December. Patrick will be home after the World Cup in June. I haven't made a new chore chart for this fall. There's probably some deep psychological issue at play here;-), but I've noticed that Mary Beth, happy-maker-of-charts, hasn't hastened to do it either. Something about deleting someone from the rhythm of family life that makes it seem so permanent. Whatever. Your family looks different than mine anyway, so you won't care if Patrick's on the chart or not, right?

Chorelist

Comments are open, because I'll never get to the mail:-)

How do you do what you do?

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I found myself with time to write, but a case of writer's block this evening. So, I went back through a file of questions I had saved. I haven't contributed to the question file for, oh, about two years. Don't know why I stopped filing questions there. It was a good idea, really. I think I'll return to that practice. And maybe this time, I'll be better about answering them promptly. Anyhooo, here's one from a few years ago:

For several years now I have been an ardent reader of your blog, message board posts, and various other articles, and I am just in awe of what you're able to accomplish in a given day. After reading your post this morning I called a good friend & said to her, "Okay, I have to know ... how does Elizabeth "do" all of this???  How does she stay motivated to declutter, take care of family, educate children, and do her writing?" 
 
I have a difficult time keeping my laundry caught up and often feel guilty that my baby is entertained by television while I try to get "caught up" around here.  So where do you begin?  Do you have a very rigid schedule that you adhere to, are your older children capable of and willing to give you a great deal of assistance with the younger ones? 
 
As a Catholic mom aspiring to be the wife, mother, friend, and educator God would have me be, I would be extremely grateful for any tips you could provide me on 'where to begin'.
Dear Elizabeth in SC,
Let's begin with the disclaimer: I do not feel qualified at all to tell you where to begin, which is probably why this post has lingered in my "question box" since March 2008. I really dislike didactic blog posts where the author sounds like she's got it all figured out and I often wonder just how old Paul meant for those Titus 2 women to be. I really don't know when I'll ever feel like I'm in a good place to advise. I do, however, like very much to share what works for me. And I live each and every day with the sure sense that there is never a bad time to shout the wonders of God. Whatever works, works because of His gracious goodness. Whatever fails, fails because I haven't listened well enough or been faithful enough to His commands. So, I'll share with you what works when it works and assure you that there are most definitely days--even seasons--of failure.
That brings me to the first part of your question: how does she stay motivated to declutter, take care of her family, educate children, and do her writing?

That's easy. I am motivated by the sheer joy of being alive and the awareness of what a fragile gift we are given with every breath. I know what it's like to wonder if I will live to raise my children. I have spent hours begging God for the chance to do His will with them. I had not one, but two extended periods of stillness in my life when all I wanted was to be well enough to be a good mom. And both times, when that gift of life was granted again, I resolved to live it to its fullest. I am eternally grateful just to be present in the lives of my family.

Today, I am often reminded of those hard days of stillness and fear. The reminders come in my inbox in the form of emails written by a dear friend. Many, many times those brief missives take the very last of her energy for the day. Sometimes, I read them at night and wake up in the morning with the resolve to do with the day not only what I had planned to do, but what she would do if only she felt well enough.
I don't know if this is at all helpful to you. I'm not sure you can take my experience and benefit from it. I think my experiences color every aspect of my life and because of them I bring different expectations to relationships and to duties. I am often surprised when I am misunderstood and I am increasingly aware that to live this way is almost like living with a sixth sense about life.

Now, let's look at the nitty gritty. I begin at the beginning. Generally, I have a grounded sense of why I'm here. I live to love my God and my family.  I'm not easily distracted by what's going on "out there." The one exception in my life was the wasted time I grew to regret last spring. That aside, I'm focused. With my husband, I prioritize and then I endeavor to live those priorities. I'll warn you, it isn't always a popular thing to do. And it's probably best to explain it over and over again (I don't do nearly enough of that--I assume people know). There are plenty of people out there who will tell you that I can go days (weeks?) without answering emails, returning phone calls, or nurturing friendships. I mean no harm and no disrespect. Quite the contrary, I simply mean to live simply inside the narrow parameters of my family life. I am very grateful for the friends who know and understand how I manage my time and love me anyway.

I start my days with exercise, the Divine Office and Morning Prayer. For me, those are critical to a day well lived. I put my husband before everything else. I carry him with me through the day and I don't hesitate to order my time and energy to meet his needs (and wants) as much, as well, and as often as I can. Marriage is a gift--to me, to him, and to our kids. I protect it with my very life. That means I don't always do some things one might expect me to do. Also, I prioritize according to his direction. I don't waste a whole lot of time thinking about it. I just do it.

For me, a good day begins in a tidy house. I have difficulty functioning in a house that's cluttered and disorganized. At different stages of my life, acquiring and maintaining order has meant different things. When we had three little children and only one car, my husband took a detailed list, three boys and his father, and went grocery shopping and to visit Grandma one evening every week. I power cleaned in the time he was gone. When I had seven children, was recovering from surgery and struggling with depression, we hired help to come in once a week. When I had three competent teenagers at home and someone to share driving duties and no one was nursing...oh, wait, I've never had that;-). You get the idea. Sit down with your husband; share your needs and your wants where your environment is concerned and figure out a way to get to order and to maintain order.

I do have a detailed, almost-to-the-minute schedule. I make a new one every season. And then I never look at it again. I just make them to see how it can all fit. If it can't all fit, something has to give. But once the schedule is made, I walk away from it. I have a general sense of what's to be accomplished in every block of time during the day and I hold myself to it, but I'm not a slave to tiny increments of time. One thing that is nearly non-negotiable in my household is naptime. If we have a napping baby, she gets to have her nap. That means I am really careful not to schedule outside commitments during naptime unless I have someone old enough at home to stay and make sure the baby sleeps.Usually, this means that we have a happy baby. We keep our eating times regular and our going to sleep times regular and then there is an expectation that everything else will fall in place. I paddle like crazy under water to be sure things swim smoothly on top.

I am usually  shy, but I am no longer afraid to say "no" in order to preserve order and maintain sanity. I am quite content with my community of eleven at home and in my heart. My focus is on them. I try hard not to assign too much baby and toddler care to my older children. An attachment parent to the very core of my being, I nurse my babies a long, long time (unless forced to wean around 2 years old by cancer or premature labor). Nursing means that my babies come back to me at regular intervals throughout the day for my undivided attention. It prevents me from delegating them too much, something that can easily happen in a household that has older children who love babies. I hold and hold and hold my babies until they squirm to get down. That said, my oldest daughter does do a lot of baby and child care. Much of it, she chooses to do herself. My kids practically came to blows this morning over who was to have the privilege of dressing the baby. In the end, Mary Beth won. Twenty minutes later, Sarah Annie appeared with a new outfit on, her hair in pigtails, and painted finger nails. Very sweet. For both of them.

In terms of education or household management, I make a lot of lists, think it all out. I'm very intentional. Sometimes, I get to attached to those lists and I start to bulldoze. But I do a lot less of that now than I did ten years ago. My motivation behind the lists is different now. I used to be motivated by keeping up appearances; I wanted everyone looking in to think I was capable and competent. Now, I'm motivated by peace of soul. I want to meet God at the end of the day and honestly tell Him I've been a graceful, good steward of the time He gave me. If my house isn't as tidy as I want it to be, it's probably not because I failed to do the important things; it's probably because I did do whatever was more important. And believe me, I think a clean house is important! It is not, however, a reliable measure of my worth.

I do have days when I feel all semblance of control slipping. And usually, those are messy house days or kids who won't do lessons days. Or both. Those are times I used to escape into the computer, because things stay tidy there. What I really need at those times is a little peace of heart--I need "quiet in a crowd."  You can get a fair bit of "alone time" to just think or pray when you hold in your hand a running vacuum. Now, when I'm tempted to go all "drill seargeant" on my kids because I want everything perfect right now, I vacuum and pray instead. If I get all the dog hair up and I'm still wanting to bulldoze, I do. The kids are probably in need of a good, honest nudge.

I'm a hands-on mom. I love to hold my children or to sit next to them and read aloud. Talking to them about big ideas or little mysteries is a happy thing. I'm fond of books and truly enjoy sharing them with the loves of my life. We are all blessed because I genuinely love education. When I face homeschooling, it's not with a sense of dread or duty. I truly delight in it (most days). That's such a blessing and I know it! I'm very grateful for the gift of that joy. I look at almost every encounter with the people I love as an opportunity to live a blessing. Once upon a time, I begged God to let me just read a story and then lie in the dark with a squirmy three-year-old while she drifted to sleep. He granted me the joy and I seize it as often as I can.

Oh dear! Is this any help at all? I do what I do the way I do it because it's the way God made me and how He continues to shape me through the people in my family and the experiences He's allowed me. At the end of the day--quite literally--it all comes down to getting on my knees and asking Him what He would have me do. And then, I compare notes with my husband and together we do whatever He tells us. I'm just happy He's given me such nice things to do.

Velveteen Me--My Heart in my Home

Of what use was it to be loved and lose one's beauty and becomeReal if it all ended like this? And a tear, a real tear, trickled down his little shabby velvet nose and fell to the ground. ~The Velveteen Rabbit

Third in a series.

As I pulled away from the internet and the telephone, I became more aware of my home and the people in it. My goodness! They had all acquired some very bad habits, too. My little ones were bigger now. Technology had infiltrated every corner of our home. My television can do things that astound me. My daughter can text so fast and so frequently it makes my head spin. And we are all iPod Touch junkies, just ask Karoline. But this is not where I tell tales on them. Just know I'm working on sharing with them some of my own insights. I've also bookmarked just about every article or post that has come down the pike lately about this topic. Ironically, I've read very few of them, but I intend to read them all, when I have time to talk them over with Mike.

I have set some new limits on screens and such, but more than that, I've given them something else to do, to think about. I've gone room by room through my house with one thing in mind: I'm home.

Sarah Anne plays this sweet game where she takes a much-too-large-for-her tote bag and slings it over her shoulder. She walks across the kitchen, staggering a bit beneath the wight of the empty bag, and then she turns around and comes back to me. She smiles brightly and says, "I'm home!"

This is her reality.

This is my reality. This is what is real in my home during this season. It is a place of coming and going. For this baby, home is someplace where people leave and then they come back. Try as I might to stop the march of time and pretend that they are all little and running in concentric circles around me, "I'm home!" is what is real. It's so obvious that the smallest among us recognizes it.

It is time for me to recognize it. It is time for me to look again at the rhythm of our lives and establish our home as a place of welcome and soft landing. So, room-by-room, I went, looking with a critical eye and seeking to make this place a haven for all of us. My goal was especially to be certain that God was palpable in every nook and cranny. That doesn't mean that I stuck a statue and hung an icon in every corner. But it does mean that I ensured that my children will never doubt that home is a haven and that the transcendence of God himself will envelope them here.

Perhaps I will give you a tour some day.

Ironically though, "I'm home" often means I'm not home. Only two of my children are old enough to drive, so if the rest of them are coming and going, it means I'm driving. I hate to drive. My daughter takes ballet 9.72 miles from my home. It can take me an hour and 15 minutes to make that trip in traffic. Imagine what it's like during rush hour with a toddler and a three-year-old for company. Now multiply that out over five children who need rides four days a week. Throw in weekend soccer games, recently as far as 65 miles away...

Therein lies a huge source of stress. I am a homebody who is never home. I am a terrible driver who is always driving. I am a mom who believes in providing opportunity to her children who often wonders if they are over-scheduled. And my husband travels. A lot. It is a life of contradiction. A life of constant re-evaluation.

For now, it is summer and with the heat and humidity comes also a change of pace, a chance to catch my breath. We are seriously considering all our options for the fall. Exhaustion happens and exhaustion is often what I mistake for depression.

The whole series:

Velveteen Me

Velveteen Me~To Desire Him More

Velveteen Me~My Heart in My Home

Velveteen Me~The Years the Locusts Ate

Velveteen Me~New Beginning

Cleaning

From February 1998

This column is about clutter. It wasn't supposed to be about clutter. I had several other ideas- some practical, some heartwarming and spiritual, even one humorous- but clutter has overtaken my life. So here it is in my column. My house is cluttered, my calendar is cluttered, my mind is cluttered, my very soul is cluttered. It is time for spring cleaning.

    I do not think it is a coincidence that we get the urge to undertake spring cleaning during Lent. Our environment mirrors the state of our souls. The peaceful order of the Shakers and Quakers were a cornerstone of their worship. Order, in our homes and our lives, is necessary for spiritual peace.

    I have confessed that my life is in disarray. Within the course of the past few weeks, I have cluttered my life considerably with things which at first seem unrelated but are actually conspirators to rob me of my fruitful prayer.

    First, as I write this, my husband is, euphemistically speaking, between jobs. My mind is awhirl with "what ifs." What if he takes a job out of state and we move? What if he doesn't and we can't find what he wants here? Where are we going? What will we be doing? Am I going to leave the familiar for the foreign? It is difficult to drive the doubts and the fears from my mind in order to leave it empty. And emptiness is what my soul craves. Because only when I am empty can the Holy Spirit pour Himself into me.

    Secondly, I splurged on a new planner (before we were in between jobs). At a glance, a planner would appear to be the perfect tool in creating order in my life, but I'm afraid all those blank spaces have just called me to fill them. I have been playing with setting up everything that "Franklin-Covey" devotees promise that it can do. I have spent so much time researching the system that I see little squares when I close my eyes at night. Unfortunately, I have been so busy planning to plan that I haven't found the time I'm sure I will have when I use this thing the way it was intended.

    The third conspirator is a new computer. What fun we have had with this machine! We have e-mail and the Internet and wonderful games on CD-Rom. I have waited year to take this technological leap. It has been heartwarming to watch my son build a long distance relationship with his godmother as they send e-mail back and forth. I have thoroughly enjoyed "surfing" with my eldest and even delighted as the baby says "bye bye" to the voice when we sign off.

    So what's the problem? Information overload. Every time there is a quiet moment, I am tempted to check to see if I have messages or to find a new site. My mind is hopping, jumping, flying through cyberspace And God still requires stillness. I had trouble being still before. Now I can be in constant motion without leaving my seat. Pretty scary.

    The final conspirator is the junk in my house. It seems that while I have been busy worrying about jobs, planning my life, and playing with the computer, "stuff" has multiplied in my house like mushrooms in the rain. It is with the stuff that I will begin my Lenten penance.

    I have resolved to spend a day alone, without the computer, or the telephone, or the myriad of details of daily life which crowd my mind. I will sort, throw away, give away, and scour from top to bottom. Believe it or not, I will relish this work. When I am finished, I know that I will find peace in a well-ordered home.  But I will also find something more.

     I will find that having spent my day alone, working with my hands, in the quiet of my home, I have cleared a space for God. I will have had time to think and to cast thoughts aside. The dust and debris of daily life that had crowded my mind will have been purged. And before the children return and I turn the ringer for the phone on again, I will spend some time in prayer. I will pray that God grants me empty spaces and stillness. I will pray for grace to discipline myself to quiet my soul every day. For the remainder of Lent, my resolution will be to plan time for stillness in my soul. I will use that wonderful new planner to commit my time to the Lord first. It is time for spring cleaning. It is time for Lent. In my house, they go hand-in-hand.

The other day, I happened upon an overstuffed envelope filled withmy old columns. Most of them pre-date my time on the internet. I enjoyed some quiet time, re-acquainting myself with the young wife and mother who wrote those columns. And since I'm in need of a bit of a blogging break, I'm going to share her with you in the next few weeks. I hope you are blessed.