Category Archives: time
A Big Bottle of Sunshine
After nine consecutive days of rain, Monday brought the sun back. Tuesday provided a taste of summer, a gorgeous day with no agenda. I think I’m still there. I skipped “Mama Loves” this week, but simply because I’ve been living it. Sleeping late and cuddling with bundles of giggles. Surrendering to a field of sweet-smelling grass; lying there with a book while the kids run and play with friends. Taking nature walks and attempting to skip rocks across the pond.
A song by Milkshake has been stuck on a loop inside my head. Yes, children’s music, but it’s fun and perfect for days like this.
“I’ve got a big bottle of sunshine.
Mix it up with a bowl full of daydreams.
Pour it into a suitcase full of laughter that I’ve found.
You won’t find me sitting around.
There’s only so much time in the day
And I don’t have a minute to waste.”
Sometimes the best way to spend the day is by “wasting” it in the sun with those you love.
WFMW: Life Balance (and a Giveaway!)
Some people think the dilemma of balancing family and work disappears when you work from home. It doesn’t. I work very parttime as a freelancer, but I still struggle. Here are some tips that help me do what I need to do and escape the chasing guilt that I’m not doing enough or not doing it well enough.
Stop multitasking.
I can’t do it all and, after years of trying, have learned that the more I try to do it all, the less I actually accomplish. Furthermore, what I do accomplish usually falls short of my best. It’s shoddy because I’ve done it with a divided heart and mind. My work — be that actual work (like writing or helping a client) or family work (like household chores or playing with the kids) — shines when I focus. My kids notice when I’m not “all there.” They know when my mind is a thousand miles away. My work notices too. I can’t write and play with the kids at the same time. Articles lose their cohesiveness and they take exponentially longer to write. It’s just not time-efficient. In a world that demands multi-tasking, how do I learn to single-task? Read the rest of this entry
Wanna join my team?
Once again I woke up early to write, but promptly allowed myself to get distracted by other things. Stupid thing. Time-wasting things. I don’t have time to waste! In precisely four minutes little feet will sound their pitter-patter down the steps and this fantasy of being a writer will fade like the morning fog. My real life will take over. I won’t be Tanya Dennis, respected author and theological thinker. Nope. I’ll be Mama, slave to children, laundry and home.
So, what did I accomplish this morning? Let’s see … I went to the bathroom. I wrote and rewrote one sentence of a query several times. I checked my email, both accounts. I changed my facebook status and got sucked into that abyss of the cyberworld. Now, thirty-seven precious minutes later, I can hardly remember the brilliance of this query? What was it about? What were those perfect sentence I drafted while lying awake in bed? Those pearls strung beautifully in line are now scattered across the floor of my mind.
Remind me: why do I keep the internet on my computer?
Better yet: why am I so utterly undisciplined? So easily distracted?
I’m revisiting a book I started last year: Time to Write. Humor me while I tell you a snowball story.
Within the past three months I’ve been struck (hard) by the rate at which children grow. I’m always known and often repeated the mantra of “the days are long, but the years are short.” I’ve worked diligently to never wish away my days. I’ve been very intentional about relishing every moment I have with my children, yet somehow I feel like I’m not witnessing enough. I’m not involved enough. I’m not teaching enough. I’m not experiencing this moment of my life (yes, five years is just a moment) with them to its full extent. This revelation has been painfully tangible to me recently as I watched my daughter turn five, as I realized in just seven short months both our kids will be in school, and my life will be vastly different than it is now.
Upon this realization, I decided to put my writing on hold. Other than my blog I haven’t done anything. I haven’t offered any submissions. I haven’t written any query letters, chapters, outlines or ideas. I haven’t even done any editing! Nothing. This sounds like a wonderful, sacrificial commitment. I’m putting my kids and my family first – right? Right. Except that it’s not working. None of my projects or project ideas have agreed to stay on the shelf. They bombard me with better sentence structure, a clearer illustrative story, a more attention-grabbing first line or a marketing idea.
When I first started writing, I met several authors who claimed “writing is like breathing; you just can’t stop.” Since I reluctantly (kicking and screaming) followed this call, I didn’t understand what they meant. Being a former artist, I understood the use-it-or-lose-it truth, but not the compulsive addiction part. Now I get it. I’m trying to stop! I’m trying to sacrifice all for my family, but I’m finding that sacrificing all simply creates a zombie. I’m going through the motions with my mind a thousand miles (or a thousand words) away.
So. I desperately want to focus on my family and I don’t want to be a zombie, so I think I need to schedule some regular writing time in order to get it out of my system so I can be mentally present during what should be quality time. (How’s that for a run-on sentence?) Enter Time to Write. It (at least the parts I’ve read)suggests just this: scheduling writing time into your life instead of waiting for your life to just give you uninterrupted, limitless reign with just you and your laptop. But, again, what good is scheduled time if I spend it all skipping through facebook or other flower-filled meadows of the internet?
I need discipline and, after 32 years of living with me, I know I can’t do it alone. I don’t want to call this a thorn in my side, but it is definitely a life-long struggle. I want to be disciplined and organized, but it just does not come naturally to me. I want to be efficient and productive with my time, but my easy-going, hippy-loving brain would rather just do what I feel the moment needs to be fulfilled. I want the respect of an adult, but I don’t want to grow up to get it. I’m still waiting for my life to begin. But I’m tired of waiting. I’m tired of floating. I want to be intentional, purposeful, focused … but without losing my spontaneity or appreciation for moments that can’t be recaptured.
What is the point of this post? Pray for me. This season for me is one of physical rest but internal struggle. We don’t have a ton of activity going on in our lives, but I’m fighting mental battles, spiritual struggles, past demons I thought were buried. I would love to have some prayer warriors on my side.
If you’re willing, please comment or email me with your commitment to pray regularly — once a week, once a month, once a day, whatever! I’ll take it! Pray for my family for spiritual growth, for protection, for vision and direction. Pray for my writing that I would be disciplined and wise with my time and that God would use me to accomplish His will. I have no idea where this will lead. Maybe he has books in my future or maybe just articles. Maybe just this blog or local studies. I don’t know, but I don’t want to miss the boat. He is working and I want to be ready when He needs me. I want to be where He is doing what He wants me to do. So what do you think? Can you join a prayer team?
Very Wordy Wednesday
I considered putting this up as a Wordless Wednesday, since it is a photo, but since it’s a photo of a bunch of words, I don’t think it counts.
A cousin emailed this to me today. I had to smile. I’ve often berated myself over this very question. Before having kids I seemed so much more productive! Now I struggle to say what I’ve done all day even when I know my tail hasn’t hit the couch once. What do moms do all day?
I joke with my single friends that if it weren’t for facebook, we would never know what was going on in each other’s lives. It’s not that moms don’t want to maintain these relationship! WE DO! It’s just difficult. One thing I will add to this article. It’s much easier to manage time well when you get consistent rest. I’ve said it before and I’m saying it again: moms don’t sleep. I’ve had maybe a month’s worth of real, quality rest in the past five years.
So, cut us some slack, meet us halfway or, at the very least, remember it takes us three times as long to accomplish everything. Remember, too, that we’re not complaining! Well, not all the time. We know this is a choice and (most days) it’s one we would never, ever change. But life is different with kids and we’re trying our best.
It’s a blueberry pancake day.
They say breakfast is the most important meal of the day. I never understood that.
For years people have been forcing me to eat when I wake up. In the absence of others (my mom, mother-in-law or sister) who would make me breakfast, the omenous, but never identified “they” still guilted me into grabbing something before leaving the house. If I’m not hungry, why do I need to eat? If I already have energy, what’s the point of stuffing more in my mouth?
This morning I woke early planning to post about how important eye glasses are. (Last night before bed I almost smeared Butt Paste all over my dry, cracked hands. It and my hand cream come in containers of identical size and shape, and both were resting on the same shelf in the bathroom.) I planned a loquacious recounting with pictures, but my camera is broken and, after spending 15 minutes trying to get my camera phone to work, I gave up.
Blog post abandoned, I now had plenty of time to make a nice big breakfast for my family. Blueberry pancakes reign as the favorite.
I think “they” are right! I won’t talk about the nutritional or health benefits of breakfast. I’m sure someone out there will be happy to fill me in regardless of my apathy. But this is what I noticed: my whole day forms differently when we have blueberry pancakes. We sit together as a family. We take time to enjoy one another’s company before starting the day’s activities. We make sure we’re rested and ready before we become active. The benefits continue throughout the day. The kids play nicely together. They’re not as clingy or whiney as on other days. They don’t ask for TV as much. And me? I’m more productive. Everything just seems better.
Now all this certainly does not hinge on blueberry pancakes. If only it were that easy! Rather, it’s about finding center, remembering why I’m here and what I’ve been called to do. If I start my morning by being still, even for just a twenty minutes or so, I can evaluate the situation and prepare for the day.
Some mornings I jump on my computer and, before I know it and before I’ve showered, my interests have sprawled in fifty-six different directions, the kids are fighting over what to watch on TV, the house is a mess, I’m frustrated and irritable. On my deliberate days, my blueberry pancake days, time moves slowly. I get showered before the kids wake up. I have quiet time to reflect. I get the breakfast dishes done before 6pm. (I know, shock and awe.) On my deliberate days, I keep my priorities straight: God first, family second, personal ambition third.
I really like those days.
Serving whom?
I’m reading a book a second time. Well, kind of. I got halfway through this book over a year ago, but realized when I tried to pick it up, I’d forgotten most of what I’d read way back then. So I’m starting over and glad to be doing so.
Last week I posted about mom guilt and the impossible task of keeping up with this house. I can work day and night to clean it, but the job is never done. It’s not that we’re vermin who habitually leave trails of filth and disorder; it’s just that we are living, breathing human beings. Oh, and half the household is under five and lacks the desire to put things away or tell an adult when jelly toast gets mashed into the carpet. Isn’t there some law of science that says all things naturally go from order to disorder?
But it’s also about perspective. The more I clean, the more I find that needs to be cleaned. When toys and books are strewn everywhere, I don’t notice how much dust has collected on the windowsills or hardwood floors. I mop and dust only to find clean floors make the slipcovers look dirty. I wash and iron the slipcovers, thinking I’m finally done, then discover a spot on the curtains, dust on the blinds and a suspicious sticky something three feet high on all the doorframes. Everything I clean shines a light on something that could be cleaner. It’s exhausting.
Back to the book. One of the beginning chapters talks about two types of housekeepers. The first needs everything to be spotless. Her house is immaculate, always ready for entertaining. She works hard to keep it that way and takes great pride in showing and sharing her home with others. Then there’s her neighbor who is so overwhelmed by keeping her home neat that she just can’t get it together. She tries really hard, but simply accepts that her house will be a perpetual mess as long as she lives there. According to the author, Cheryl Carter, these two ladies have one thing in common: they are both serving their homes rather than allowing their homes to serve them.
At the risk of sounding like a Brady, I never thought about it like that.
When I clean my house, I think I’m serving my guests, my husband, my family. And yes, I am doing that, but when the need for perfection in every corner consumes my time and energies, I’m not serving anyone but this dwelling. How many times have I made this clear to my children? “I can’t play until the laundry is done.” “We can’t have friends over until the house is clean.” “Do you see these dishes? I promise I’ll read to you after these are cleaned and put away.” I’ve become a slave to my house.
Don’t get me wrong. There are times when these chores need to be a priority. I just wonder if, perhaps, my intense battle over home management stems from serving the wrong master.
Rick went to a ballgame a couple weeks ago. He was out late, so I took the opportunity to make the house shine. Ten o’clock that night found me on hands and knees washing the bathroom floor. When is the last time I put forth that much determination in my devotions? Would I stay up to that hour to read my Bible? Or pray? Whom am I serving really?
Works for Me Wednesday
God calls us to be good stewards our what we’ve been given. That includes our money and our talents, but also our time. If you’ve followed my blog for any amount of time, you know I struggle with organization. I love having everything in order and using my time efficiently so that I can truly enjoy my family, but managing a home doesn’t come easily to me. My mother always says “Creative people can’t be neat people.” I won’t say it’s impossible, but it sure is difficult! I hate chores. I hate housework. But it’s all got to be done and so I strive toward a perfect “system” to keep it all done. I’ve not found a perfect system, but I have found a tool that works for me.
A month ago I shared with Rick my ideas for a perfect organizer. It would be a calendar with both weekly and monthly views. It would have spots for a grocery list, meal planning and a To-Do list. I would be able to keep track of family appointments, notes, and personal goals. It would be perfect … if only it existed. I considered making one myself, but the thought alone seemed too labor-intensive and time-consuming, so I put it out of my mind and headed to the grocery store.
Guess what I found there. Yup! My PERFECT organizer!! I was so excited. Here it is. I give you: Mom’s Plan-It Engagement Calendar. And this is why it’s so great:
- Weekly and Monthly Calendar Views
- To-Do List: smack-dab in the middle of the weekly view (right where it should be)
- PERFORATED Grocery List: This is on one side of each weekly calendar (see the photo below). It’s even divided by sections of the store so there’s no back-tracking when you get there – another time saver! Did I mention it’s perforated so you can just rip it out and take it with you?
- Menu Planner: This is on the opposite side of the weekly view (again, see the photo below). Its format is flexible to suit your needs, whether you just want to list meals, assign days or even jot down recipes or pages in cookbooks. (I’m lovin’ it!)
- Stickers: almost 300 for quickly and easily noting family appointments, school activities and more
- Front Pocket: for holding coupons, school notes or things to be mailed
- Address Pages: These are divided into sections, too! There’s a generic address section for anyone you want to remember, but there are also specific address pages for babysitters, children’s friends, restaurants, services (like when you need a plumber and don’t want to spend an hour looking for the number) and emergency contacts.
- Notes section: blank pages in the back for all your brilliant thoughts and doodles.
- Spiral Bound: no more wrist calisthenics trying to write in an awkward journal.
- 17-Month Format: It actually starts in August to go with the school year and runs 17 months, just in case you, like the rest of us busy moms, can’t always buy a new calendar when you really need one.
And all this in a little package. The whole thing measures about 5 1/2 x 6 1/2″. It won’t fit in my tiny handbag, but it does squeeze nicely into a small backpack or diaper bag. I’ve had this planner for just a month and already my life seems easier. I’m thrilled with it! It definitely worth more than the $13 I paid for it.
There is actually a whole line of “Mom’s Plan-It” stuff — wall calendars, checkbook calendars, desk calendars. Personally, the engagement calendar is my favorite. I tried the magnetic wall calendar last year and was disappointed. It seemed cluttered and took up too much space on my fridge. Also, it didn’t have all the cool features for meal planning and list making.
So there you go. This is my organizational tip for the day, piggy-backing on yesterday’s discussion of crazy motherhood. For more “Works for Me” tips and tricks, visit Rocks in my Dryer.
Oh! And come back tomorrow for the first ever In the Dailies poll. I’ve decided to let YOU choose my new ‘do! I’ve got about 8-12 extra inches of hair on my head and just can’t decide what to do with it … I’ll be posting options and you can vote on which I should get. Until then …
“A capable, intelligent, and virtuous woman–who is he who can find her? She is far more precious than jewels and her value is far above rubies or pearls. The heart of her husband trusts in her confidently and relies on and believes in her securely, so that he has no lack of honest gain or need of dishonest spoil. She comforts, encourages, and
does him only good as long as there is life within her.”
Proverbs 31:10-12 (AMP)
Two approaches to sleep
I read recently (and I really wish I could remember where) that sleep deprivation is a part of motherhood. (Well, duh!) This caught my memory because the next sentence referenced the Proverbs 31 woman:
“She rises while it is yet night and gets food for her household
and assigns her maids their tasks.”
Proverbs 31:15 (NIV)
So, sleeplessness is a Biblical precedent?
Ellie’s school starts earlier this year. They moved the whole schedule up by half an hour to accomodate sports schedules for the high school. So, instead of having her there at 8:30, we now need to get her there by 8:05. Add to this my new school-year goal of never dropping her off without a shower (Yes, I did that several times last year, and, no, I wasn’t the only one. Several of us who looked much better at pick-up than at drop-off.) and my morning are a little crazy.
So, I’ve been trying to get up before the sun. It’s really hard!! I can’t turn on the bedroom light because, well, that would just be rude to my still-sleeping husband. I’ve discovered I can’t take a shower before the rest of the family wakes-up because Zach (a light sleeper and a screamer) is in the room right next to the bathroom and wakes up everyone else almost as soon as I turn on the water. Lately, I’ve been tiptoeing through the maze of creaky floor boards to “assign my maids” (a.k.a. “me”; I make my daily to-do list and check my calendar). Today (with yesterday) I combined my early-riser goal with a meal-related goal. I’ve been trying to make meals ahead of time (when possible) to reduce the stress of “happy hour” (the hour between 4 and 6 when the kids go crazy with energy waiting for Daddy to get home while I try to tidy the house and make dinner without losing my mind). (Heather, today I seem to love parenthesis almost as much as you!) I found a recipe in my make-ahead recipe cookbook to try for breakfast. I made it all last night and set it in the fridge so this morning I would only need to pop it in the oven. Unfortunately, the screech of moving oven racks woke my daughter and the “ready beep” of the thermostat woke my son. So now I’m wondering if I shouldn’t just stay in bed and enjoy my sleep. But then I think of this verse:
“Don’t be too fond of sleep; you’ll end up in the poorhouse.
Wake up and get up; then there’ll be food on the table.”
Proverbs 10:13 (Message)
For those of you who are interested, here’s a picture of my completed French Toast Casserole.
It’s like a breakfast-y bread pudding, all warm and gooey with a maple pecan crunchy top. Yummmm!!
Short Years
When you’re parenting young children, the days are long, but the years are short.
I’ve known this. I’ve repeated this phrase as a mantra over the past couple years. It’s tough raising two kids so close together! I’ve experienced that and I trusted the wisdom of women older than me who assured me these days were fleeting. I wanted to drink in every moment before they were gone. Lately the unavoidable truth of short years has been tangible. A visible, audible heartbreak. I know, I know I’m just at the beginning. My oldest is only four. But it’s still eating at me. I’ve got a big girl on a two-wheeled bike giving doctrinal dissertations to the neighbors. Even my baby is not a baby anymore! He’s running circles around everyone, quoting his letters and phonics and wearing underwear to boot.
I figure I have two options: (1) have another baby or (2) refuse to let my kids grow up. My husband is praying hard against option number one so that leaves number two, which in my more practical moments I recognize as impossible. But I’ve come up with a plan. I’m going to refuse to call a speech therapist. Is that child abuse? It’s not like binding their feet or locking them in the basement – right?
Our girl has some speech issues. We’ve been letting it go because we thought she would outgrow it, but I’m afraid it’s time get some help. I don’t want to. These mispronunciations are so sweet and possibly the last signs of her being tiny. She’s not a baby anymore; she’s a big kid and I hate it. But a responsible mother must do what she must do. So, for the sake of prosperity, rather my own sentimentality, I’m recording here some of my favorites that she uses all the time. (*sniff* Excuse me while I go get a tissue.)
- Pwincess = princess (not too hard to figure out)
- Sweeping Booty = Sleeping Beauty
- Cinnerllella = Cinderella
- Wollo = royal, as in “Pwincesses sweep on wollo beds with wollo cwowns.”
- Wool = roll, as in “Mama, look! I wool my tongue!”
- Cimmimum = cinnamon
- loy-yo = oil, as in “We need loy-yo and cimmimum for our cookies.”
- Comooter = computer, as in “I have my watch and my phone and my comooter, just like Daddy!”
- Nemonade = lemonade
- Waterlemon = watermelon
- Ikeass = Zacchaeus
- Zachawee = Zachary, as in “Mama, Zachawee won’t sing Ikeass with me!”
- Lord, I leappa neemma lie! = Lord, I lift your name on high!
All right. I’m off to get another box of tissues and then find the number for a therapist. For me or her? Good question.
What time is it?
“No nap time!!” It’s a happy hollar, a joyful call for the end of rest time, but when sounded at 5am it’s not welcome.
Daylight savings is a joke and not a funny one. Is there a way to have it apply only to households where all members can read time? At what age do kids start to read time? My kids only know “mommy-time” — you know, “bed-time”, “nap-time”, “lunch-time”, “reading-time” and the like. They have no concept of actual numeric time. When does that come? About the same time I’ll finally get to sleep in. And why doesn’t Ecclesiastes mention “a time to sleep?!”
a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain,
a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace.”
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 (NIV)
