Sweet Summer

We are in the midst of our rainy season. Each day the dark clouds roll in off the Everglades and unleash a torrent of rain on the bungalow. The garden is grateful for the recent rainfall, it was a dry spring.

Our rainy season is a bit like the North's winter. The early morning heat waves are challenging to overcome for the sake of outdoor adventure, the afternoon rain and lighting makes us burrow in all the more. Our only respite comes on days when the sea breezes are strong or in the late afternoons when the sun emerges after a long rainstorm has cooled the earth. Even then, we only get about half an hour before the mosquitos come out in swarms.

So we must be creative, you see, if the boys are to get their daily dose of adventure and play.

Summer always brings this challenge. How do I continue to guard their precious boyhoods by creating opportunities for imaginative play?

Lately I've been encouraging the boys to get messy. I mean muddy, sticky, slimy, gooey, sweaty, wet, head to toe COVERED in fun. They always behave more on days when they get good and dirty.

I love when they smell of sunshine and sweat and giggles. I love finding small blades of grass in the house. I love seeing smudged handprints on the glass panes of the bay window. I love bathing a round baby who has recently played with a helping of baby food, the frothy bubbles swirling round chubby legs covered in applesauce. I love the sweaty strands of hair and the faces covered in smears of chocolate. I love this smell of life's joys.

The Bear and Cubby are assisting me more and more in daily chores as of late. Cubby likes kneading bread and folding clothes. His little voice always pipes up, "I want to help you, Mama!" and its the sweetest music of my day to hear him say so. He has also helped with sewing some of my projects. Many of the seams are crooked and the projects are at times, less than perfect...and yet they are so very perfect because my boy sat on my lap, his small hand encased in mine. My arms wrapped around his frame as I worked to help guide the needle to and fro. His little voice chattering as we worked. How I treasure those crooked seams.

The Bear, as always, loves making a game of our chores. I made fruit leather this week and we eagerly stood guard over the tray of sweet mangos drying in the sun. Peeking out of the window every so often to make sure it was still there. Running outside to rescue the tray whenever rain threatened.

I fashioned two jet packs for the boys, complete with firing engines, and they have yet to cease zooming around the bungalow. Space exploration, dinosaur hunts, pirate escapades, jungle safaris, and runs through the "deep dark forrest of animals" are the games of the day. Happy shouts and loud thumps echo through the house all day, with the occasional sparring match here and there.

This morning as I changed bedding, folded laundry, kneaded bread dough, and tidied up the living room, I noticed a strange sound in my home. The sound of silence. A terrifying sound.

Yet all was peaceful and innocent when I found the boys gazing out the window.

Bear looked up at me when he felt me settle down beside him.

"Can we play outside?"

A hundred practical reasons to say "no" floated through my mind before an eager "yes" spilled from my lips.

We ran in the sunshine, acquired mosquito bites, watched the mango leather dry, and played with trucks.

We weren't outside for long. Soon we had to come inside, strip out of muddied clothing, brush off bits of grass, and guzzle down cool water.

Both boys thanked me and ran off to play. The game they chose to play is called, "Wrecking Ball." This consists of both boys running at the hallway wall, top speed of course, and slamming into the wall with all the force their bodies can muster. They end up sprawled out on the floor, moaning a bit and giggling. Embracing joy and soaking in the magic of summer.

Sweet, sweet summer.

Projects Taking Off!!

Hello.

We've been busy this month! The boys and I are having a ball this summer. I plan at least one or two 15 minute adventures per day and the kids love it. Digging toys out of ice blocks, sailing boats in the tub, making crayons, making sidewalk chalk, sewing, puzzles, scavenger hunts, paper towel roll animals, bubble wrap race tracks---to name a few. I love when they face the day ready for adventure!

Today we finished making jet packs for the boys. I found this idea on Pinterest, which led me to a cute blog by a stay at home mommy providing a tutorial for jet packs. Hers were made of tin foil and streamers, which is great! But I know my boys and that would not last an hour in this house. So we used duct tape and fabric for the fire streams. The boys LOVE them.

I've been sewing like a mad woman. And I am happy to report that I am about 60% finished with the back room update! I'll make sure and post pictures once its all done. For now, take a look at some of the pillows the boys and I finished...

Yellow rocket pillow, waiting to be ironed....

Madras plaid pillows with little buttons...

Here they are!

And I finished one of the bigger projects, the puppet theater!! Cubby loves this thing a lot! I used two small utility hooks on either side of a doorway so that we can string it up whenever we want. Many happy hours of play to come with this theater. :)

We churned butter a few days ago and I made pumpkin muffins with the buttermilk that came from our churning efforts. Oh the yumminess. Cubby, our resident toddler chef, is excited about using our fresh butter to roll out some dough for an apple pie tonight. He really loves helping in the kitchen and I have found that its his best place to learn.

I have so much that I want to share on here about the boys and their homeschooling. I'll have to save it for another day though. The babe is asking for some food and special cuddle time and really, how could I say no to that?

Word Problems

I have always struggled with words.

Not in finding them.

Not in using them.

Rather, in the restraint of them.

As a child, I learned that I could use my words to effect people and manipulate outcomes. I could defend myself and defeat others. Sinful little brute, stubbornly wielding a weapon I had no idea how to use.

Learning to take responsibility for my words was a painfully slow process. I learned the same lessons over and over again for many years. Jesus had to beat me over the head with it at times. By the time I reached college, I had more control, more restraint, more common sense, a better understanding of love and grace. Not to mention the reality of sin. Sometimes you don't understand grace until you fully grasp the seriousness and weight of sin. Jesus led me to a much better place right at the brink of my adulthood.

Now as a mother, I find myself having word problems yet again. The heavy weight of them, the promises they carry, the good lessons they impart, the bad marks they leave...

Oh, my boys.

At times, my words fall like dew drops on the petals of their small pink ears. They roll slowly inward and nourish. They teach life, they give grace, the speak beauty and truth.

Then there are days when the words thrash. A hideous cacophony of anger, pride, confusion, frustration. My words stop nurturing and instead they draw out tears and stamp out joy. They are unleashed, I am bound up by them and then ashamed.

Thank God for grace.

I am learning to control my words anew these days. At first the exercise seemed fruitless and frustrating. My sinful nature constantly whispered excuses, my exhaustion winning out on some days, my words falling about the bungalow unchecked.

An adult tells the dog to "shut up" one day and a child says it the next.

We show them our anger, they show us ours.

They want autonomy and we want the control.

I never really went through a phase of "baby blues" but I certainly went through the "toddler blues." Going head to head and toe to toe with a screaming, red faced toddler is exhausting. I soon found myself saying THE WORD all the time just to avoid having any sort of confrontation with one particular three foot tall terrorist I am raising.

It felt easier to say THE WORD.

The word "no."

No.

So much easier to say no. "Yes" means messes and trouble. Doesn't it?

A few months ago I decided to reign in the words. Then I decided to really think about my reasoning in words before I spoke them to my children. For example, a little person asks if they can do a certain activity. If my first impulse is to say no, I would ask myself why? Was it dangerous to them? Was it immoral? Would it teach them something false? Was it legitimately bad for their health? Most of the time... it was just inconvenient for me. More cleaning, more work, more time, and horror of horrors... it infringed on my incessant need for control. Those aren't good reasons to limit their joy, hedge in their freedom and restrict the potential of their childhoods. So I started saying yes...

I said "yes" to yes. :)

Yes, I have had to work more (Good Lord the cleaning I have had to do!). But I have had more joy and less frustration, less confrontation. My children started blossoming in an abundant way. Their boyhood took on a new level of adventure. It brimmed with the giddy air of wild discovery and imagination. The best gift I've ever given anyone really. I said "yes" to their dreams. I am so very glad I did.

The three foot terrorist, need I really name him? Oh Cubby, things are getting so much easier between us. When I just take a few minutes to understand your heart a little more, its helps so very much. My little son who is so like me, we are learning so much together.

The discipline is still there, the boundaries are firmly in place, but the space between the walls is so much more joyous.

My words have seen a change too. They have left the realm of defense and entered the world of joyful leading!

Please don't read this entry in either extreme. We did not walk around in anger and tears all the time. Nor are we currently in a perfect state of bliss.

We are a family raising each other, really. These boys are raising me to be a good mother. They are sending me on practice runs, providing trails, lighting the sparks of refining fire as it were, to help me become a better woman of God. I in turn, work each day to help them become men of God. The goal immediately following is to keep them alive at the end of each day with as few wrestling injuries as possible.

And as always, to watch our words to each other. Keeping our promises, encouraging one another, creating opportunities of joy for others and ultimately, speaking words of forgiveness and grace to each other whenever we fail.