Little Women on Love and Ambition

As the girls and I continue listening to Little Women (17 cd's!), I'm (not surprisingly) relating more to Marmee than I did before my own mothering days.  We certainly share many of the same hopes for our children.

Here is Mrs. March responding to her two oldest about some hurtful gossip they've overheard:

   "I want my daughters to be beautiful, accomplished, and good; to be admired, loved, and respected; to have a happy youth, to be well and wisely married, and to lead useful, pleasant lives, with as little care and sorrow to try them as God sees fit to send.  To be loved and chosen by a good man is the best and sweetest thing which can happen to a woman; and I sincerely hope my girls may know this beautiful experience.  It is natural to think of it, Meg; right to hope and wait for it, and wise to prepare for it; so that, when the happy time comes, you may feel ready for the duties and worthy of the joy.  My dear girls, I am ambitious for you, but not to have you make a dash in the world,--marry rich men merely because they are rich, or have splendid houses, which are not homes because love is wanting.  Money is a needful and precious thing,--and, when well used, a noble thing,--but I never want you to think it is the first or only prize to strive for.  I'd rather see you poor men's wives, if you were happy, beloved, contented, than queens on thrones, without self-respect and peace."

And later, speaking about whether she'd rather have her daughter marry a rich man:

   "Money is a good and useful thing, Jo; and I hope my girls will never feel the need of it too bitterly, nor be tempted by too much.  I should like to know that John was firmly established in some good business, which gave him an income large enough to keep free from debt and make Meg comfortable.  I'm not ambitious for a splendid fortune, a fashionable position, or a great name for my girls.  If rank and money come with love and virtue, also, I should accept them gratefully, and enjoy your good fortune; but I know, by experience, how much genuine happiness can be had in a plain little house, where the daily bread is earned, and some privations give sweetness to the few pleasures.  I am content to see Meg begin humbly, for, if I am not mistaken, she will be rich in the possession of a good man's hart, and that is better than a fortune."

A Lesson from Little Women

What we call "read aloud" has been part of our homeschool from almost the very beginning.  In reality, we most often listen to stories on cd so I can drive or work in the kitchen instead of falling asleep while trying to read.  ;-)

The girls and I recently enjoyed the Melendy Quartet, and are now speeding through Little Women.  I know the book backwards and forwards, having read it multiple times when I was young.  I love this novel!  The characters aren't perfect, but they are trying to be truly good, so following their adventures and mishaps is edifying as well as entertaining.

This time around, I'm focused more than before on the mothering side of the story.  Sometimes Marmee echoes my feelings; at other moments she sets me a good example.

I was struck by a conversation she had with Jo, who bemoans her quick temper and is surprised to discover that Marmee struggles with hers, too.

   "Mother, are you angry when you fold your lips tight together, and go out of the room sometimes, when Aunt March scolds, or people worry ?" asked Jo, feeling nearer and dearer to her mother than ever before.
   "Yes, I've learned to check the hasty words that rise to my lips; and when I feel that they mean to break out against my will, I just go away a minute, and give myself a little shake, for being so weak and wicked," answered Mrs. March, with a sigh and a smile, as she smoothed and fastened up Jo's dishevelled hair.
   "How did you learn to keep still?  That is what troubles me--for the sharp words fly out before I know what I'm about; and the more I say the worse I get, till it's a pleasure to hurt people's feelings, and say dreadful things.  Tell me how you do it, Marmee dear."
   [Her mother used to help her, then her husband, but it was easier before they were poor, with four young children.]
   " . . . then the old trouble began again; for I am not patient by nature, and it tried me very much to see my children wanting anything."
   "Poor mother!  What helped you then?"
   "Your father, Jo.  He never loses patience,--never doubts or complains,--but always hopes, and works and waits so cheerfully, that one is ashamed to do otherwise before him.  He helped and comforted me, and showed me that I must try to practice all the virtues I would have my little girls possess, for I was their example.  It was easier to try for your sakes than for my own; a startled or surprised look from one of you, when I spoke sharply, rebuked me more than any words could have done; and the love, respect, and confidence of my children was the sweetest reward I could receive for my efforts to be the woman I would have them copy."

Some take aways for me:

• I must model the behaviors and faith I want my children to embrace.
• A confidant and helper is invaluable, and my husband is the best choice for this role.  Fortunately for me, Len is more than up to the task.
• My children don't seem startled or surprised when I speak sharply.  :-(  On the positive side, when I do apologize, they forgive me readily and don't seem to have taken it to heart.  Hopefully they know how much I love them and that blunts the sharpness a bit.

Not Fast Enough

Inspired by the enthusiasm of a novice knitter, I jumped aboard the Chloe train. 

By the time Rebecca and I bought our yarn (supposedly anti-pilling acrylic--we find wool to be itchy), I had less than a week until the targeted Easter Vigil first wearing.  Commenters on the pattern over and over remarked at what a quick knit it is.

Not quick enough for me . . .

I could have managed it, but didn't.  I frittered away kniting time with basics like cooking and driving, as well as just not picking up my needles every time there were some minutes to spare.

So there I sat, in the car, at the Vigil.  I let my family choose seats in church while I finished sewing up the second sleeve.  Then they came outside for the lighting of the sacred fire.  I was threading live stitches onto pink yarn so Becca could put the almost done (first ruffle row completed) garment on, at least.  I hopped out in time to reenter with candles for Mass, the Chloe still in the car.  It's a toss up as to which of us was closer to tears.

Oh, well.  It was ready by morning, and Rebecca wore her new half-sweater to our family Easter celebration.  Alleluia!

The button buying expedition was a fun mother-daughter event. 

On the other hand, picking out the yarn was decidedly stressful.  We both thought green would look nice with the dresses she would wear, but Becca liked the currently fashionable, too-yellow shades that don't match the dresses (we had brought 2 along).  We checked blues and white and were finally down to pink.  I didn't care for the shade she chose (whose shrug is it, anyway?), but noticed the rest of the skeins in the bin were a bit less bubble-gummy.  Instead of just picking them up (we needed 2), I mentioned the difference and we proceeded straight to meltdown.  Apparently the lighter yarn was "itchy."  These skeins were exactly the same, except for the dyelots.  Yikes!

All's well that ends well, and Rebecca and I are both smiling now.  Hopefully we've learned some lessons?  At least I, as the grownup, may have matured a little bit.  Time will tell!

One Better

Angie at (in)courage has written an inspiring essay about challenging ourselves to grow:

" . . . in my head I heard the words, “You can do one better.”

. . .

I’m not saying it’s easy, but these two words have helped me make some really good and life-giving choices over the past several weeks…

One better."

Read the whole thing here.  Thanks to Elizabeth for linking to this.

Works of Mercy

Allow me to ramble a bit . . .

From the Baltimore Catechism:  "The spiritual and corporal works of mercy are acts of love which we show to Christ in the members of His Mystical Body.  Whatever we do for a member of the Body of Christ, we do for Christ."

The corporal works of mercy are "acts of love which come from the heart to help our neighbor in his bodily needs."

1. Feed the hungry.
2. Give drink to the thirsty.
3. Clothe the naked.
4. Visit the imprisoned.
5. Shelter the homeless.
6. Visit the sick.
7. Bury the dead.

The spiritual works of mercy are "acts of love toward our neighbor to help him in the needs of his soul."

1. Admonish the sinner.
2. Instruct the ignorant.
3. Counsel the doubtful.
4. Comfort the sorrowful.
5. Bear wrongs patiently.
6. Forgive all injuries.
7. Pray for the living and the dead.

I've always been more Martha than Mary, so I'm naturally drawn to corporal mercies.  That sort of hands-on, hospitality driven work isn't always easy, but it suits me.

I've been thinking about this subject lately because a friend of mine recently set an inspiring example.  She drove to another state to care for another friend undergoing her first round of chemotherapy.  M spent days away from home ministering to a family in need.  (BTW, this amazing woman and her family were one of the first reasons I considered homeschooling; just watching their lives made me want to try to be like them!)

I still remember a talk Elizabeth gave many years ago, during which she pointed out how parenting babies and toddlers requires many corporal works of mercy, while teens need us spiritually.  Maybe that's why I believe I'm a better parent of little ones.  Cleaning and feeding can be exhausting, but is relatively simple.
 
To admonish the sinner and instruct the ignorant, in love, takes patience, strength, and grace.  If I am to counsel the doubtful, I'd better know my faith and be steeped in it on a personal level.  Raising teens has also proven that I need a thicker skin, the better to bear wrongs patiently and forgive all injuries.  Not that they're so mean, but that I must not take offense so easily.

Anyway--these random thoughts that have been on my mind lately--thanks for reading along!

Grateful Mom

I'm glad to be my children's mother.   I don't always remember that gladness, but if I stop to think, even on the crazy (or cranky) days, I know that God has called me to this vocation and that it is Good.

My children have many ways of showing their love for me.  There are pictures and notes,

and special handmade gifts.

Then there are the "you know me so well" store bought presents.  :-)

Gifts of service are always appreciated.

(Laundry sorted without fussing.)

Someone organized this gift certificate for lunch out with a friend.

Of course I can't take pictures of the best examples of my children's generosity--their gentleness, cooperation, and helpfulness.  And when I'm in go-go-go drill sergeant mode, I don't see them, either.  When I am quiet and gentle, the kids are, too.

I was reflecting today that when I am weak, my babies are strong.  It's when I'm sick or tired or sad that they're most likely to pull together.  I know they care and I am grateful.

AMEN!

Saturday Afternoon

They put on their best puppydog faces--big, eager eyes, batting lashes, winning smiles--"Please take us to the log."

I didn't want to go. Grownups have so much to do. Sigh.

Why can't Rebecca stand up straight?

She didn't heed Mommy's shoe advice, and feels insecure in flip flops.

-

-

The tempting view from the log bridge:Their coup: getting me to wade. Suddenly they felt free to venture farther and farther up the creek.Heading for home.SOME girls had to change their clothes after this little expedition. :-) No, not me!

Launched

My second baby is off to college . . .

The waterfront at Saint Mary's College of Maryland.

-

Loading the car wasn't tough. David has a room (not a suite), and shares a hall bathroom, so he needed fewer furnishings than Lauren started school with.Shopping with David is a pleasure. He has strong opinions about electronics, instruments, bikes, and tea, but is relatively easy to please about everything else. And QUICK!

-

We look at shower caddies: "Sure, that's fine. Does it come in black?" I call from the store, listing prices and qualities of fans: "I'll take the small one. The black one." We peruse the desk lamps: "That looks okay. Does it come in black?" Etc.

We're off!

The dorm is no-frills cinderblock.

The room is small, basic, and cinderblock,

with a view of the courtyard.Unpacking continues . . .Some essentials:Cookies from Grammy

Tea kettle from Mimi and Granddad (no microwaves allowed!)

Technology (mostly black)

Eclectic book selection (Descartes, Plato, Dante, Sherlock Holmes, Calculus, Ophelia Joined the Group "Maidens Who Don't Float": Classic Lit Signs on to Facebook)

I'd say I handled the day and departure well.

-

Today is when I'm feeling it--choking up when I gave Lauren's birthdate to the dentist's office, wistfully considering stopping the woman with the tiny baby in the Costco parking lot to tell her, "It goes by so fast," (I DIDN'T!), feeling emotionally drained and wishing for a nap (Oh, wait--that happens every day!).

-

Launching our children, first to college, then into the wider world (not yet . . .) is both beautiful and terrifying.

Sursies

My mom instituted our family's tradition of "sursies." I think the name is based on "surprise", but that's not the full definition. A sursie is a little, "just because" sort of treat given to someone who needs a lift or that you're thinking of or who would appreciate this little something you've just found. A cherry pitter, holy card, sticker book, or bit of chocolate could be a sursie.

Inspired by a friend, I collected treats for Lauren when she went away to school. I wrapped and labelled them so she could open something from me every other day for a month.

Tomrrow we're driving David to SMCM, so I just finished wrapping his sursies.When he saw the dates he wondered what would stop him from opening them all at once. Yes, I'm relying on the self control of an 18 year old away from my supervision...

And that's why I won't yet tell you what exciting gifts are in those appealingly wrapped parcels. David reads this blog, and I can't spoil his surprise now, can I?

A Model Mom

Ouiz has a beautiful post reminding us that we moms are every day setting the stage for our children, teaching them what home is and who God is.

Some quotes:
By virtue of my office, I dictate what home is for ten people.

I'm not a master chef, and yet the way *I* cook is the way my children think things are supposed to taste.

The atmosphere I create here forms what my family considers to be home.

It covers much more than simple homemaking, however. Many, many times I have caught a glimpse of my children watching me as I pray, or read the Bible, or participate in Mass. What are they seeing in me? What sorts of lifelong perceptions of God have they formed in their heads because of my actions?

May the Lord repair what I've done badly, and may He bless all the good that has been done in this family!

Read her whole post here.

Able Assistant

Yesterday as I was decorating gingerbread cookies for Bible study, Becca decided she wanted to help. Warm, wonderful, and welcoming (hah!) mother that I am, I said, "Sure! Hop right up here!" If only...

I had a cookie plan, and although it was proceeding slowly, it was proceeding MY way. I did not want a mess-maker or a helper who needed help or a companion who would cry when her artwork didn't meet her expectations (believe me, it's happened before).

Fortunately, child #6 is persistent. I succumbed, she washed her hands, pulled up a stool, and produced these:
No fuss, no complaints--just pleasant chatter and shared sprinklings. The child is five!

My design is less complicated, but it was surprisingly time consuming to get the sugar to completely cover the icing (inside, outside, on top). The end result was certainly bright!

Lesson learned? Maybe. I hope so.

-

Post script: Rebecca wanted everyone to see her cookies, but did not want them eaten at Bible study. Her solution? "How about if you take a picture and put it on your blog?" ;-)

A Kinder, Gentler Mom?

While I'm still frantic or cranky much of the time, some days I believe I'm mellowing as a parent. I reflect more readily on what treasures my children are. I'm gentler. I try harder to slow down for teaching or watching or playing.

My children may not have noticed this incremental progress. ;-) I admit the change is subtle...

Lately I've been asking myself what has brought this change about. So far I've come up with several theories:

1. I'm growing up, becoming mature. (Wouldn't that be nice?)
2. I no longer have babies or toddlers (Rebecca is 5!) exhausting my physical stamina, which increases my ability to parent well.
3. With three teens (19, 17, almost 15) I truly understand (emotionally and spiritually, rather than just intellectually) how fleeting this time is with my children. This has increased my appreciation of them and caused me to make a greater effort at patience/gentleness.
4. I'm getting old and am too tired to muster the energy to train and discipline with fervor, which I'm mistaking for gentleness. (Let's hope this isn't true!)

Right now I'm leaning towards #3 with an added hint of wistfullness about #2. Babies can be exhausting, sure, but each one multiplies the love in a family, too.

Have you mellowed or transformed your parenting style over the years? How? Why?

Fashion Statement

It was hot here yesterday. I wore a white skort, turquoise top, matching earrings, and sandals.

Partway through the day Rebecca pointed to the purple plastic lei hanging on my doorknob and asked, "When are you going to wear the necklace I gave you?" Okay, then.

I put it on and wore it the rest of the day--to answer the door, hang out at soccer practice, and share dinner with the family. Thank goodness her query came AFTER my return from the grocery store(s)!

It's Okay to Be Sad

I practiced a good parenting strategy today and thought I'd share. (You don't read much about my bad moments--usually all there is to learn from them is that Mom needs more sleep and/or self-control!)

The four-year old was weeping loudly at the table because she wasn't sitting next to her chosen cousin. While I was still calm, I crouched down to Becca's level and told her, "It's okay to be sad and it's okay to cry, but you may not cry like this at the table. If you need to finish crying, you can go up to your room or to the family room. Do you need to cry some more?" Either yes or no would have been fine. She decided to stay with us.

I've used this technique with all my children, mostly when they were young. I think it's important to validate the emotion (sad, angry, disappointed, etc.) but not allow disruptive behavior (crying, screaming) in a family group setting (mealtime, prayer time). I will repeat that it's okay to feel [whatever], because I truly believe it. Emotions are what they are, and being little can be tough.

I try to deal with the acting out right away while I can respond not just calmly, but kindly. It's no fun to feel bad.

If she can't regain control, I'll send or lead (depending on age) the child to her chosen "other spot", and maybe even stay for a few minutes. She comes back after calming down. Sometimes he'll try to come back before he's really ready, and we'll need to repeat the process, but this strategy has worked well for our family.

Perspective

"They grow up so fast."

As a young mother I heard this over and over again--from friends, family, even strangers. I never doubted the concept (just looking at my toddler as each new baby was born was proof enough), but it's time, of course, that really brings the lesson home.

Having spread-out children (14 years from oldest to youngest) also helps make the truth obvious. Watching the toddler take her first steps while the teen is driving a car can seem surreal if one takes the time to think about it. But I don't usually pause to reflect. I tend to get caught up in the logistics, the busy-ness of day-to-day.

When Lauren went off to college, I posted a little tribute here. Gathering the photos was fun--seeeing my fuzzy headed baby transforming into a beautiful young woman. Lauren's back for the summer, and, of course, our relationship is different (I'd like to think better).

So I've been learning anew this year that time with my children is fleeting, but only recently articulated it. In fact, I wrote it down almost without thinking in Thursday's "Small Successes", but have been pondering ever since: one reason I made the effort to cook with David late that night was that I thought to myself that in the blink of an eye he'll be gone, too, and I'll regret then not spending a little more time now.

I want this perspective to inform the parenting I've got left, want to make sure I spend time on what really matters. My youngest is 4, so there are many years ahead, but the time does pass quickly and it's easy to get distracted. And of course my bigger kids will be gone much sooner than Becca.

Epilogue: Rebecca was playing mouse the other day, and wanted a tail. I found the perfect ball of creamy, fuzzy, thick yarn to cut and tape to her shorts. She thought it was great, but I remembered something: that yarn came from a Josephina loom of Lauren's that I had never used with her. I figure there was at least a two year window of interest, but somehow I didn't make the effort to set up the project with her.

Part of my seeing what I want to be involves understanding where I've fallen short. I'm not beating myself up over the loom, but the memory is part of this wake-up call or refinement of perspective. It's never to late to reasses and reprioritize, right?

Small Successes Volume 5

This isn't really my 5th Small Successes post--you haven't missed anything here! Over at Faith and Family Live, this has been happening for awhile, and I'm finally jumping in today.

"It’s important for moms to recognize that all the small successes in our days can add up to one big triumph. So on Thursday of each week, we’ll do exactly that." The idea is to encourage each other (and ourselves) by listing 3 things we've gotten right, no matter how small they may look.

Go to today's post for links to more encouraging words. Meanwhile, here are mine:

1. I cleaned my bathroom sink and mirror for the second time in two weeks rather than waiting until I just couldn't stand it anymore. Usually I have a much longer interval between cleanings; the contrast between before and after pictures would be stunning.
2. I asked God to free me from a disordered attachment to food (I've never really wanted to be detached before), and was able to allow myself to be hungry multiple times this week.
3. I turned my whole body away from the computer this morning to listen to one of my children. Yes, I admit that's noteworthy.

How about you?

A Challenge

"We can do no great things; only small things with great love."
--Mother Teresa

Not loving so well these days...

Welcome, Baby!

I'm an aunt again! My little sister (and goddaughter) had a baby boy this evening. Seven pounds, one ounce, and doing well. A wonderful answer to many prayers...

Evermore

When I have a baby or toddler, most of my "lovey" dollars are spent on said child--nursing, hugging, kissing, snuggling. Much of my other mothering time goes to directing, driving, and disciplining. As a consequence, I don't think my children have any idea how fiercely I love them.

Lauren's off to school now. Of course she'll be back, but her life with us will never be the same. That's a good thing, and the way it should be, but mommy feelings aren't always in synch with mommy brains. I miss her.

We have a fun kid cd--Dog Train--with mostly silly songs and one mother-ballad. I've been thinking of a slide show for Lauren for nearly a year now, and have finally made an attempt. I'm not sure whether it's me or the computer (we both have technical issues), but we haven't been able to upload a song to go with pictures to post on the blog. We can, however, put up a movie from the camera, so enjoy this high/low tech tribute. Technical assistance by Len, singing by Alison Krauss.