Toilet Training

Dear Children,

You may wonder when you're older what it was like for me to earn my Ph.D and quit working to be a stay-at-home-mom in the same year. Well, it was hard. In my social circle, it wasn't done. In the larger society, people were writing articles about how women who received advanced degrees and did not remain in their profession were failing women at large. Even without that, it was hard simply because the life transition was so enormous.

So I want to tell you about an experience I had when I was younger which helped me make sense of this sudden change.

My first summer in college, I was in a training program that included  a communal bathroom  for 16 girls. We were put in teams of four. On the morning of my team's turn to clean the bathrooms, I found myself scrubbing toilets while my teammates were still sleeping. I was a very bitter camper.

I huffed my way through the toilets, the shower stalls, and the floor. Then I started on a long row of sinks. Somewhere between the first sink and the last sink, I realized that while everyone else was asleep, God was watching, that these were God's sinks, and that He was pleased. No one else had to know. I didn't need to snark at my teammates.  The bathrooms were cleaner, and this was something I could do for God's glory.

In the years since then, when I've found myself doing stuff I don't like or value (or others don't value), I've been able to turn back to that bathroom experience. It reminds me that seen or unseen, valued or unvalued, my doings can be a "spiritual act of worship" and God sees.

So those years when you were small and needed a lot of "unseen" care, I remembered that God saw and his value of what I was doing with my life meant more than anything, certainly more than faceless article writers. (This also meant I didn't have to welcome your dad home with a boring recounting of all the wonderful mom-things I'd done that day.)

Anyways, as you grow up and face the twists and turns of your own life, remember that God sees and cherishes you, and that you don't need to live for the pleasure of anyone else but Him.

And about you and me: it was hard; you were worth it.

Love to you both,
Mom

Planning, plans, change

So our summer 2013 is at about mid-point and warrants some review.

Going into the summer, here were my thoughts:
1) Let's go visit family in Seattle
2) Encourage my daughter's interest in drawing
3) Play outside in the mornings before it gets hot

In other words, we were looking at a very open ended, unscheduled sort of summer. We've been able to do the list: We had a great trip to Seattle. My daughter has been drawing and crafting her heart out. And the kids get time outside at a park about 4 times a week.

What we weren't planning on doing was buying a house across the street for my parents to retire into. Since they won't be retiring for a few years, we needed to rent the house in the interim period. That unexpected project has taken up a fair amount of summer energy. We got the renters settled in July 4th weekend and have been recovering since then.

Although somehow recovering has included hosting a neighborhood barbecue. That was fun, but not exactly restful. But it was supposed to inaugurate a peaceful, boring denouement to the summer ending with Labor Day weekend and the kids returning to preschool a couple mornings a week.

Well, at a routine visit to my family doctor last Friday, we were talking about my insomnia and how my injured shoulder would flair up making falling back asleep difficult, and one thing led to another, I saw my orthopedist and I have surgery scheduled in 3 weeks to fix it up.

That compresses the summer.

Since 2009, it seems to be a family pattern for us to putter around in our day-to-day routine and then turn on a dime and race off in an unexpected direction at full speed. I'm not sure what I think about that. I mean, I'm thrilled that we aren't usually frantic people who then shift into turbo-crazy. I think maybe part of us wishes we had longer stretches of puttering. But we have actually been really good at shifting gears and directions and doing that together. I think these changes push us out of our comfort zone into God-seeking mode and that's not bad either.

At some point I should look into the fall, but at this point, I'm just trying to figure out what needs to be done for the family the first month after surgery.