Seasons.

It seems these days that all my friends are re-evaluating their "role" and "place" in life-- what they should and shouldn't be doing, how much external activity they can handle, and where they really need to focus their attention. I expected it.

It's fall, and nesting is a part of that seasonal change- we have been outdoors in the glorious weather, and we begin to remember that inside our homes a comfortable, warm environment awaits us with a promise of happy family moments and calm evenings shared among friends. We get internal, and I think God designed it that way, because as soon as we realize we are good and happy with our families but that something is still missing, the incarnation comes to us at Christmas and we get that we need that "magic" touch from God to bring it all together. All too soon, it's Spring again and we are cleaning out our houses and letting "fresh air" in-- only to be enticed to step out into that air and forget the glories of what lies within the beating heart of our homes. It's a cycle, folks, and on and on it goes... but what's amazing to me is that I fall for it year after year after year.

Come Fall, EVERYONE wants to take a good, hard look at what they are doing with their time, and how they can realign their priorities.

This is a noble and honorable task, and one which I've tried to undertake many times myself, and which I haven't totally figured out. I actually suspect I never will-- that I will keep learning and growing in "what works" for our family and going from there. God's Word says we are as clay in His hands-- malleable-- not hard and unyielding. If having three kids three and under has taught me anything so far, it's that I MUST be open to whatever thing the wind of the Spirit would blow me towards-- I cannot remain resolved to do things "my way," and "on my schedule." I can try, but there WILL come a time when God asks me: "Have you consulted ME about how you should be spending this minute/hour/day?"

If anything, thats what my entire Carmelite walk has been about-- building a relationship with Him based on prayer and mortification, based in communicating every part of ME to Him, and in being willing to renounce every part of "me" and "my time." My memory, my will, my understanding, etc. etc etc.


So every which way I turn, my happy housewives are redirecting their days, tearing apart their control journals and starting over, and reformating their schedules. I'm one of them--I smell the change in the air.

In the last two months of my pregnancy movement became very challenging for me, resulting in two things: I could no longer take off on a whim and hang out with my other mommy friends. On the home front, my kids became like a pack of wild animals without constant direction from me- all they got for several months was whatever I could holler at them from the couch. Bad idea, albeit unavoidable.


This happened over a longish period of time... but it was compounded by my inability to move fast enough to correct them combined with my defeated, negative attitude about my role. Magazines and books spoon feed you that pregnancy is "all about you," and sisters, I was LIVING IN THE WORLD, reluctantly eating up every poisonous word.
This resulted in absolute LUNACY in my home. I was completely overwhelmed, and thought--what the heck is HAPPENING here? The more I tried to enjoy myself at home, the more I hated it.

For me, like for my friends, the answer lied in regrouping and resorting out my priorities. I needed to acknowledge that I had gone too far into socializing (albeit with Godly women!) and that I needed to refocus my energies at home.
Every woman finds at some point that she cannot both be attentive at home AND work, lead/teach bible studies, volunteer, etc. I've been there before, we all have.

And what I find is that come March or April, that determination to be a "keeper at HOME" will have vanished, and in it's place I will be finding solace in teaching twenty bible studies and endless coffee dates.

My case is no different: in this particular season of my life I have given up virtually every single "outside activity" and focused instead on building up my family and in particular on encouraging my husband to succeed at his own vocation. On days where I "feel" like giving, where I know that I am supposed to be doing this, the fruit is tremendous. On days where I resent it and start believing the whispers of promised "me-time" and what not, I am about as morbid and grumpy as they come. I don't even talk on the phone anymore. I mean, I don't even ANSWER my phone anymore. And I check my messages only twice a week. For some, this is uber annoying, but the results in the soothing of the chaotic environment of my home have been incredible. I am still able to communicate with people through emails and social networking sites, but not when I am sacrificing my mothering for another family. It has been so amazing!

So how had I gotten so LOST? I think it's because, while my philosophy about parenting hadn't changed, my techniques had, unbeknownst to me. Part of it was that I was suffering from our latest move and all the "unknowns" that bothered me in our family life, causing me to react negatively to virtually everything, which then showed in my kids.

But the biggest part was influence. My children began to spend time in circles with kids who were parented differently, and I even began to take parenting advice from people who had a very different mentality about their God-given role. Not "wrong," mind you. Just different from the way I perceive my own task at hand. And different means that it wont accomplish EXACTLY the same goals, similar as they may be.

Fortunately I recognized the gravity of the situation right away, and as soon as I was postpartum and felt capable of walking, I started back up the LOOONNGGGG (and slippery!) slope to regain some authority and control in my house. As the Pearls would say, I found I was raising some spoiled brats.

Of course, none of my friends now would agree with me. The three things I hear most often are "they are just being kids," "they will grow out of it," and "you're doing a great job!" I think most of my friends think that I have impossibly high standards for my kids, and that they cannot, or will not live up to them.

For instance, they have seen me, time and again, recite my classic line: "No fits. We don't throw fits!" to a toddler (and even a three year old!) who is crumpled up in a whiny, crying ball of temper tantrum. I often hear at this time that I'm expecting too much-- that the child is probably hungry or tired or overstimulated, that they MUST find some way to express themselves lest they implode.

I often believe it myself, mentally adding to the list of excuses I have to cushion the unsettled feeling in my gut because my children simply will not obey. Then, invariably, I hit a breaking point- a day where my kids are so bad, or so embarrassing, that I basically just want to crawl into a hole and die.

I had one of those days on Monday, when I took my kids to the All Soul's Day mass said by the bishop and concelebrated by a TON of priests I respect, love, and pray for daily from around the Diocese. Right there in the communion line, in front of countless priests and parents of Traditional Catholic families with kids I heavily admire, and in particular, in front of my Bishop, my three year old daughter went insane. She tried to grab the Host from the Bishop's hand, and when he wouldnt give it to her, she put her hand on her hip and in her nastiest, sassiest voice, screeched: "I want one of those. Give it to me NOW!"
Now, I can joke that the girl is clearly just excited to recieve Jesus, but lets be honest: that was about as impolite, rude, and disobedient as it gets. I was MORTIFIED.

No one around me, mind you, is putting this pressure on me. But I have SEEN those kids, the ones who sit in the front row at Church and who, even at 18 months, not only sit still but participate with gratitude in the service. Those kids who use their allowance to buy something for someone else.
I have seen those kids in public and wondered at it all (but been reassured my mothers around me that AT HOME those kids misbehave, or that AT HOME they are beaten and tortured into military-like obedience, leaving no room for social aptitude, growth or creativity.)

What's worse, I have seen these children in the privacy of their own homes, and I have known their families well once upon a time. I KNOW these families DO exist, that they are joyful, industrious, godly centers of evangelization. Would that I knew the treasure I had before me then... I thought I knew it all then and observed without asking questions. I even went as far as to "teach" some of you from my observations. Ah, humility. How you hurt.

I KNOW these families exist. I want one like that-- where my children are a joy to me and not a burden, where my husband beams at his capable wife. I think if we had only one child, maybe two, it would be easy to have continued to fool myself into thinking it was all "just a phase" and that it would eventually pass... but actually, this third child has really revealed to me how necessary it is to have a game plan and stick to it come hell or high water.

I see the same things in my marriage. When I confide in a sister about my own personal challenges with my husband, I am nearly always met with a long list of reasons why I'm not alone! But if I venture into this territory with one of the moms of these wonderchildren, I am often dismayed that she doesn't experience these same troubles-- since she doesn't appear to want to discuss them or relate to them.

Does this mean I know /knew perfect people? Of course not. Those very children occasionally throw a tantrum to end all tantrums, and put up a decent fight. Those couples bicker and argue like the best of them once in a while. Those moms have certainly had their season of tears. But the difference is that they genuinely, truly, completely and openly ENJOY the process of being a family. It's not something to be survived, but something to rejoice in. That's what I want-- a day where I can embrace these sufferings and change my attitude about them, not believing them to be my "undoing," but my well-being. A day where I am left with a feeling that peace, and joy, and not utter chaos, reigns in my family.

I want to love, honor, respect and uphold my husband in ALL scenarios and not just publicly. I want to enjoy my children, and not just once or twice a day when they say something impossibly cute. And ultimately, I want to raise a brood of world-changers, ones who are so utterly evangelical simply by their presence and personality that they will affect everyone around them. I want to raise saints.

I kept looking for a book that helped me navigate this season of turning inward-- something that would give me a set of steadfast rules which, if followed, guaranteed success.

I found that in my struggles with my husband in the book Created to be His Helpmeet.
Without batting an eye, I can tell you that that book saved my marriage, and that if I followed it's advice more closely each day (Lord, help me!) our marriage would continue to be the best it's been.

But what about in my child-raising and homemaking? Where could I turn?
I have long admired the work of the Pearl family in To Train Up a Child, but something was lacking in it that I couldn't quite put my finger on.

Recently, I discovered a new book, Raising Godly Tomatoes, which teaches the same types of principles, but does so in a more "apologetic" manner-- one which explains gently the reasons for acting and behaving a certain way with our kids. It also presents the concept of tomato- staking... keeping our children NEAR us.... in a way that I was finally able to grasp. All the same stuff as TTUAC, but just laid out in a very accessible kind of way for those of us who aren't amish and don't (yet!) homestead.

I was overjoyed to find the encouragement, but I think I instinctively KNOW all these things in my heart-- they are the reason I feel so unsettled about my motherhood much of the time. It's because I stopped believing that these families actually EXISTED. It's because I stopped believing some of those verses in Scripture on which I should be standing with rock-steady certainty. I relaxed my sense of purpose and the diligence with which I parented, all because I stopped "believing the dream," so to speak.

In the last few months, God has slowly been rebuilding that vision in my head as I've sought Him about it. and what's better, He's been giving me the wisdom to talk to my husband about His OWN vision for our family and to submit to those things which seem impossibly difficult to me. And in return, I have begun to see that proverbial light at the end of the tunnel... the ACTUAL blessing of doing things God's way, and not just the theoretical one. It took me three kids to even put a DENT in that selfishness I carry around with me daily.

Although my three year old is still as sassy as can be, and my two year old still throws fits that would curdle your earwax, I find that as I RELAXED into my mothering over the last two years of eased up external pressure, I was able to stop trying to control everything around me and just DO those things which sat in front of me. I needed to be brought SO low, in my parenting, that I was willing to do ANYTHING-- give up my life--- for my kids to come out OK.

This is why God allowed me to go through such a harrowing season. I almost had to shoot my own self in the foot in order to figure out I needed REAL healing underneath the skin.

The challenge, now, for me, is going to be to go my separate way from my dearest, most incredible friends who choose to switch up their 'focus' when spring comes blowing the winds of change. I see now that I need to be HOME, that HOME is where I am best used to fulfill my every purpose, that HOME is the best place for my kids to be, no matter how much I would have liked to fool myself to believe otherwise, and that it is through in my husband and my kids that my greatest suffering, and thus my greatest joy, will come.

I am always talking about the "good old days" and trying to live like wives and mommas did back when kids obeyed, didn't interrupt, and had the fear of God in them. But I never figured what it was that was so different: These kids had NO WHERE TO GO. These moms had no telephones, no women's ministry meetings, no play dates. There were no nurseries at Church.

All they had were families, and they raised them right.