One of the things I am working on is my interaction with and reaction to the girls. I read an article today from, you guessed it, No Greater Joy, my favorite family ministry. I’ve even printed off the article so that I can reread it and share it with others easier.

The article is called “Child Training Marathon Revisited” and here are a few excerpts that are key for me and I want to remember:

Being cautious of his “touchy” emotional state, they resorted to pleading and reason, explaining how “they really did love him” and how he was “not a bad person.”

…

The father, hardly looking at the dog, commanded him to go downstairs. He didn’t raise his voice, and there was no anger. He spoke with firm authority, expecting the dog to obey without further word or attention. The dog took off downstairs like he had just heard from God.

…

“Quit asking,” we would say, “Tell him what to do, and put a little toughness in you voice.” Then we would tell her, “Don’t tell him again; respect your own word; get your switch and apply it right where he stubbornly sits; ignore his self-pity. Don’t assure him of your love; assure him of your authority. You are in the right; put your shoulders back and act like a commanding officer whose word is final. Do not negotiate or explain. Mother, take the whine out of your voice, and put some steel in your posture. Stay calm, but unmoving.”

…

By the end of the week, he was expressing more love and appreciation for his mother than ever before. He began to admire her rather than see her as a weakling he could control.

…

After reading our book, on several occasions the parents had attempted to exert their authority and hold out against his demands, but this tough little campaigner had always endured.

…

So I told the daddy to tell the boy that he would not be allowed to sit in his mother’s lap, and that he was to stop crying.

…

The mother was ready to come up with a compromise. “He was hungry. He was sleepy. He was cold.” Actually, he was a brat, molded and confirmed by parental responses.

…

I said “No; you told him he was to stop crying immediately or you would spank him; he waited until you began stopping. He has not obeyed; he is just beginning to show confidence in your resolve. Spank him again and tell him that you will continue to stop and continue to spank until you get instant compliance.”

…

This time, after the spanking, when Daddy gave his command, the boy dried it up like a paper towel. The parents had won, and the boy was the beneficiary.

…

The child concludes: There is a new order; Father is consistent; he always means what he says; I cannot win; there is no alternative to instant obedience. Get smart, be a survivor, just say no to self-will.

…

I said, “Tell him to dry it up instantly and to start smiling.” When she commanded him, he immediately stopped crying and gave a faked smile that quickly turned to a sincere one in reflection to the delight on his mother’s face. I never will forget. She started laughing with absolute abandonment.

…

As long as the parents don’t revert to their old responses, the child won’t revert to his.

…

Our object in spanking is not to cause the child to so fear the pain that he obeys. It is to gain the child’s attention and give him respect for the parent’s word.

10/10/09

Dear Eliana,
You are six years old now. Chloe just turned 4, so I’ve been writing in your baby books this evening. I can’t believe how far our family has come since you first broke into our hearts. You seem like the third partner with Daddy and I. We couldn’t do this without you. You are so smart, and so helpful. Sometiems you get a bit carried away, but mostly you are very well behaved. You are the most amazing young lady! Sometimes I feel intimidated by your brightness. How is it that I’ve been blessed by God so much to have you in my life!? I pray that you never lose the sincerity that drives your every move and that you grow up to be the Godly woman I know you can be. I love you, Eliana Sherrí. Forever and ever.

Momma

Everyone knows how deep my convictions about homeschooling are, and my desire to see my daisies blossom into honorable Christian women is just as deep, and in actuality, is the driving force behind that conviction. I cannot think of a greater failure than to have children that disrespect their parents, later their spouses, and ultimately their God. So what have I done to teach them respect so far? Have I prayed with them, taught them Bible truths, taken great care as to what influences are in their lives, taken them to church, taught them modesty and self respect? Yes, of course I have. But besides lectures and lessons, and even more so, they learn from example. I have been far from the best example in learning respect.

I cannot recall even one time that my mother ever complained about being my father’s wife. She assures me she had her moments and struggles, but apparently, she practiced sobriety and meekness, because I was never aware. If ever she did, it was minute enough that it didn’t make an impact enough on my life. I grew up assisting her in her loving service of my father. She would pour his drink, and we would carry it to him, and just before handing it over, we’d steal a sip and say, “carrier’s fee!” A lot of the time, mom worked a job, but she never failed to plan meals and pinch every penny she had. It may have been Hamburger Helper and a can of corn, but hey, I like cheeseburger macaroni! She always made sure that Dad’s dinner desires were met, and if she had received a can of asparagus in a pounding, she might treat herself to it if she felt like it. My mom had many complaints over us and our behaviour, and I am not stupid enough to say she is 100% faultless, but when you weigh out everything she taught us through example, I have to force up the negative memories. They aren’t what I recall, and that is unusual according to normal human behaviour.

So why am I writing yet another story of how great my mom is? What in this crazy world happened to me? I remember starting out my married life swooning over an imperfect man, ready and willing to devote myself to folding laundry, taming dust bunnies, and holding members hands as he pastored small churches. I remember standing up to the naysayers declaring our marriage would be different because we had such a respect for each other and the Bible’s teachings about marriage. But when you skip ahead to about a year and a half ago, I was living a hopeless life, wallowing in self pity, hating myself and my circumstances, and I had all fingers bolding and unabashedly pointing at my hapless husband. I blamed our unhappy marriage on our material circumstances. How did I get from “I don’t care if I live under a bridge, I’ll respect my husband” to this? For one, I know I was away from my mother’s influence. But no matter how I got there, I did. I’ve not fully recuperated from that line of thinking, but God and i have been working together to unscramble the mess I’ve made by trusting in my self instead of Him and the husband He gave me. I don’t want to turn this into a long drawn out sermon on Biblical wives (that’s a soapbox like homeschooling, I have no fear of being on), but if you take it back to the very beginning, Eve was created to help Adam be what God created him to be. I had fallen into the modern culture trap of “it’s all about the wife”, and fallen out of the wisdom and meekness my mother had instilled in me.

Going back to the original point of the discussion, I have decided to take a stand… about 2 feet behind my husband. My daughters’ success in their lives depends on me giving them an everyday example of what they need to yearn to be. Eliana is career minded, Lydia can’t decide if she wants to have babies or just be Eliana’s sister when she grows up, Chloe is confused in general, and that’s fine for a 3 year old, she’s a good follower so far, though. I don’t know if this world will last long enough for them to be adults, but that’s no reason to let down on my training. Eliana isn’t far from accountability, and all of my training isn’t just for teaching her how to be a good wife, it’s also teaching her how to respect God. So I’m going to tighten up my discipline, regain my naive adoration for my human husband, and live happily ever after in a heavenly marriage, designed by God.

If you’re a wife or will be one someday, please, please, please read “Created to Be His Help Meet” by Debi Pearl. You can start off your curiosity with this article: “Carnal Husbands, Cranky Wives, and Cantankerous Kids“.

It is such a good movie. From the first note that popped out of Julie Andrews’ mouth to the final “The End” written across the screen, I wanted my momma to be here so bad. She would have sung every note of every song.

I guess the girls are still a little young to fully appreciate things like this, but I know that if I’m consistent with my brain washing, they will grow up to be hopeless romantics just all girls should.

I was thinking tonight about how it seems to be so much more expensive to eat healthy. But if you think about how much less you should be eating, compared to our usual bad habits of eating until you have to put on your sweat pants, then the cost should about break even. Then I thought.. if I bought candy bars for  our after dinner snack, it would have cost almost a dollar per person. The Pacific Rose apples were $1.94 per pound, that’s about $1.21 for an average 10 ounce apple. Now, a candy bar is a pretty fancy treat to be buying for everyone every night, so think about popcorn. You can get a box of fifteen bags for only a couple/few dollars. A boxed cake is about a dollar, just add an egg, a little oil, and a little water, and you’ve got about the equivalence of 16 apples. Cake $2 verses Apples $20. What in the world are we supposed to do with that?

I want to instill healthy habits in my children so that they don’t face the problems that I am now. But budget and convenience keeps putting cheeseburgers  and french fries in front of them. We do pretty good at home. Cereal for breakfast, a sandwhich on whole wheat bread with real meat, real cheese, and a little mustard, yogurt and grapes on the side, water to drink. Then dinner time rolls around. If I’m still working by 6, we usually go get McDonalds or have pizza delivered. You can always tell when I’ve had the money to go grocery shopping, because we eat hearty, healthy meals for at least a week. Then as the cabinets start to dwindle it’s back to to Dominos.com, becuase they can be there in 30 minutes, rather than me take the time to get dressed, go to town, walk around the store, wait in line, come home, put it all away, fix dinner, and eat.. about 2 hours all together.

It’s so frustrating. I’m trying to give the girls the best that I can, and that covers so many areas of life. From having a decent place to live, to having a healthy life to look forward to. Then there’s Bible study time and playing outside, not to mention homeschooling that is right around the corner. It’s so much to think about, I get overloaded at times. I just need to put God first, and trust His guidance.

You know, it’s almost as easy as a light switch. On the mornings that I get up and read my Bible and pray, the rest of the day falls perfectly in line. When I fail to do it the very next day, stress runs the household. My girls suffer through my failures. I am trying to get my act together before it’s too late, hopefully I haven’t already reached that point.

I realized today that it’s not just my health that is at stake here. Eliana can not only ride her bike without help, but she can ride it fast! I had no idea. I thought she was still just barely getting it. I took the girls out some today, and she got on her bike and was gone in a flash up the driveway.

Ya-Ya is usually the one to take them outside, and it’s been okay with me all this time because it helps me; I get the free time, and they get the activity. But It’s not okay with me anymore. I’ve got to get over myself, and realize that my comfort isn’t a joy, seeing my children grow up healthy and happy is. And it’s not good enough just knowing they are, I have to be a part of it too.

The other day the two older girls were looking out the window from the couch talking excitedly about the empty swing-set they saw in our back yard. Then Lydia rushed off to her room and Eliana trudged behind her. She was talking to herself a long the way saying, “We can’t go outside unless we’re at Ya-Ya’s house. Momma works all the time so she can’t take us. We just have to stay inside all the time.” I had a sadness come over my heart instantly as I stared at the laptop with complaining clients and overdue projects piled up before me.

So here are my New Years Goals:

• A fenced in area for the girls to play in without worry of the road
• A family dog in that fence
• A patio in that fence
• A table and chairs on that patio

I have the computer I wanted, I have the furniture I wanted, I got the stove I wanted today. So now I want the ability to be with my kids outside, to let them be able to play anytime they want, I can work on the patio, and take breaks to push a swing.

I love the work that I do, but my life’s dream wasn’t to die behind a computer, it was to have a husband and children that loved me. I have those things, but time with them is wasted.

My mom once told us kids that she had a hard childhood and what she wanted when she “grew up” was to have children so that she could raise them to love her and to cherish her. My mom is the best mom, and probably one of the most loved, in the world. She’s faulty like mothers are supposed to be, but she’s genuine, and she works hard to keep her family healthy and whole.

As a kid, I said things like, “I’ll never be like that to my kids” and foolishness like that. While there are a few things I do differently, being like my mom is so much more fulfilling than trying to change. I’m a product of her raising after all. But I’m not quite there yet. I want to be better. I want my kids to cherish me and their memories of me like I do my mom. Even though I hated her when I was a teenager– Teenage girls are supposed to do that it’s some unwritten rule. I look back and have the same regrets most grown ups do. “Mom and Dad were right about everything.”

So It’s time for me to stop living for me, and give my life to my children, because they are all that really matter in the scheme of things.

Saturday morning started off with news the the daughter of a member at Chris’ church had died. Chris got around and went immediately to be with the family, and since the lady didn’t have her own minister to call on, they asked Chris to conduct the funeral services, after all, he is the pastor of the mother of the deceased.

As a side issue, I’d like to just take a moment and say, that being a mother myself, I am moved by the brevity of this woman who has lost her daughter. Her words to Chris that morning were, “Brother… God healed her.”

So tomorrow, the girls are going to Ya-Ya’s house while I finish packing up our things, and then Chris and I will be going to the funeral. When we feel released from our duty of ministry, we’ll pick up the girls, load up our things, and it’ll be Russellville or bust!

On the way home, I asked the girl if they’d like to take all of our stuff and put it in that house to live. Eliana was all for it, but Lydia doesn’t like the idea at all. I can’t figure out why. She says she wants to stay in her “old house”. I explained to her that it was too small, and we needed more room, and this house had a great yard to play in… she still wants to stay in the old house.

We first moved here when I was 5 months pregnant with her. We went to Georgia for a little while when she was a couple of months old, but came back right after she turned one. So she’s lived here in this house almost her entire life. Chloe has too. It’s funny, because by the time I was 5, I had moved probably 3-5 times, and that’s how it was my whole life. Being here in this house will be my second longest tour ever, and it’s only been 4 years since we first moved in.

I don’t know if the house is what we need or not, but it sounds good, and it’s exciting to think we might finally be able to get something that doesn’t feel so temporary. Lydia will just have to get used to it.

I’m watching “16 Children and Moving In”, a show on TLC about a family in Arkansas that has 16 kids! It’s the Dugger family that we’ve seen on TV before, and they are so beautiful. I just told Chris, that if you can afford it, that is the life! All that family, you’re never alone, and there’s always a helping hand.

*Big Sigh*

It’s hard right now with the girls being babies, but in 10 years… they are going to be smart, helpful teenagers. Right now, I have to do everything.. in a few more years, one can set the table, one can change their brother’s diaper, and one can be folding laundry. What a dream! But I know it’s not all fantasy, because I lived it. I griped through every minute of it, but it was real!

I have to pray through everyday. “God, just help me do this moment right.” When I don’t.. it all comes crashing down. And it makes me mad, because.. I can sit and dream and idealize, and it’s all perfect.. but when it comes to making it real, I always fail so miserably.

It’s important to me to see my family be a success. Because I said it would be, and I don’t say something like that, unless I mean it. And with God’s help, it will be. Twenty years from now, when I’m looking at grand parenthood,  I want to be able to say, “You know, it was tough through the early years, but we made it through, and look how great it is now!”