Let Them (Re)Visited: Let Them Get Dirty

Let Them (Re)visited is an opportunity for me to eat crow or crow all the louder regarding topics I covered during my Let Them series. Let's see what happens, shall we?

Many moons ago, we lived in the middle of the city. We had modern conveniences like sidewalks and asphalt. We were greeted in the morning, noon, and night with sirens. We had a decent-sized yard, all things considered. Getting dirty was downright luxurious. It was like winning the lottery when mom said to play in the mud.

That was then.

This is now.

We have two and a half acres...of dirt. Dirt roads, dirt driveway, dirt-covered bushes. Basically, it's dirt as far as the eye can see, broken up by desert growth and our lovely 3 foot berm of poop. You see, we bought this dirt with poop factories animals in mind. So we're fortifying our city gates with the materials they provide. You want on our property? You're gonna hafta scale the poo. May the best man win.

We're classy people. Most of my children take Olympian leaps up Poo Mountain and arise victorious at its peak, complete with celebratory fist pumps. I'm trying to curb this bad habit. I really am. But I've had better luck nailing Jell-o to the wall. I've also caught them sliding down its treacherous sides like it's the black diamond run of poo skiing. This is accomplished on feet if I'm lucky...backsides if we have house guests. 

Yes, I have to remind my children to not show off our poo pile to their friends. Yes, I've lectured my children about inviting their friends to scale up, roll down, and generally fling the contents of Poo Mountain. Yes, we are blacklisted from delicate play dates. 

Then there's shoveling manure against the wind, which always results in a special full-body "dusting." I wish I could tell you how many times I've told a particular child to go shower off, because there's poop in her hair. She acts like this is ludicrous.

I showered yesterday!

Yes, but you've conquered Poo Mountain (congratulations, by the way-your gold medal is in the mail) and flung manure dust all over creation, sweet child. Contracting dysentery is not on our bucket list.

Dirty nails and smudgy faces are a daily occurrence around here. “Shoe checks” are mandatory. But mixed in with all that dirt are great life lessons woven throughout childhood memories. Hard work, the responsibilities of farm life, the joys of training a new animal, and the sorrows of burying one. The struggles are greater. The earth oftentimes resists yielding to the shovel, as we are wont to protest the shock of the Gardener's spade slicing away that which would stunt our purpose. Yet, the rewards are richly gratifying. Moldy kitchen scraps and manure mingle with cultivated soil and thoughtfully sown seeds to reap an inspiring bounty. When what we see is degradation and filth staring back at us in the mirror, perhaps He sees timely growth wrung from adversity.

In the end, we traded our sidewalks and asphalt for neighborhood games of tag on a bumpy back road; our sirens for the silence; and our yard for dirt. Glorious, filthy dirt.

And more showers.

Applying Soap Liberally,

Cynthia

Let Them (Re)visited: Let Them Give it Away (and a book shout out)

Let Them (Re)visited is an opportunity for me to eat crow or crow all the louder regarding topics I covered during my Let Them series. Let's see what happens, shall we?

As soon as I peeked at the first Let Them title, I knew my stance wouldn't have changed one iota. Kids with much should be encouraged to practice generosity. Liberally. But here's what has changed for our home: Things are more complicated now. Kids ranging from toddler to tween means interests are more diverse. Toys are more distinctly owned by individuals. Group consensus to toss something is not met so easily. Olders are more attached to The Things From Their Childhood (things they rarely actually play with, because they are babyish). More trinkets get tossed in the trash, because they don't survive to meet the inside of the giveaway bag.

The living situation is more complicated too. We're practicing commune living, so there's seven people living in a manufactured home. Because we're kooky like that. Four kids in one room means somethin' has to go, precious snowflakes. As this is a temporary arrangement, some special treasures have stayed boxed up. The life-as-I-know-it-will-cease-without-this-toy items have been relegated to small bins on the bed or under it.

In short, our children have learned to do without. And embrace it. They've played card games, and worked many a puzzle. They've learned new skills in the kitchen, pursued classic literature (because books are one area I basically refuse to limit, and is evidenced by the mountains of reading material surrounding us), and climbed our trees for hours. Perhaps we've all learned to be content with less. Don't get me wrong, we all have displayed selfishness over keeping something, but what I've learned since February 23rd, 2013 is that less truly, really, honestly is more.

I think most parents want their children to become giving, thoughtful, gracious people. I think most of us falter in our steps as we strive to raise grateful kids. It feels uncomfortably against the flow to teach kids gratitude, and sometimes it's easier to float with the current down You Deserve It River. Sometimes we need a solid kick in the pants before we're willing to adjust our thinking. Before I'm willing to say, “OK, God, what I'm doing is a total crapshoot.”

(Here comes my amazingly smooth and undetectable segue.)

Hey! Remember that one time I applied to be part of a launch team for Kristen Welch's new book, Raising Grateful Kids in an Entitled World, and didn't know I'd been accepted because my e-mail is rising up in mutiny and eating important e-mails? I've basically been playing catch-up with the rest of the team, which means they've been babysitting me and holding my hand, bless it.

(source)

We need a kick in the pants, and Kristen delivers a swift, but gracious boot to get us moving. We're not all precious, gentle families who practice All The Special Things with our families. Kristen knows that. Kristen is our people. She's transparent. Reading her book is just like sitting across from her on a squishy couch, yukking it up. I know this because we have the same verse inked on us and I sent her an e-mail years ago to tell her...so we're basically BFF's and I'm not a weirdo stalker. Not once do you catch of a whiff of condescension. Grace, firm suggestions, a call-to-action.

“When entitlement's poison begins to infect our hearts, gratitude is the antidote.” 

“Kids will be kids and if we give them too much, too soon, they will likely take it.” 

“We give our kids more because we think it will make us all feel better, but it actually places a higher value on things than on relationships. And often our kids don't need more stuff or more freedom; they just need more of us.”

Good words, Kristen. Go read more of her good words (and possibly win something...Oops! I've said too much.).

So here's the deal: Today is the release date! Go get thee thine own copy and one to giveth away. This isn't so much a parenting book as it is a manual for not raising, nor being yourself a self-absorbed lazy butt. You won't regret it.


Convicted,
Cynthia

*Cover courtesy of Tyndale House Publishers

Let Them: A Saturday Series

This first Saturday series is called "Let Them". There are so many things we just big, fat don't let our kids do. I'm meeting some of those things head-on and seeing what happens.

Let Them Dream God-Sized Dreams

In this final installment of this "Let Them" series, I am feeling nostalgic and hopeful; Nostalgic for cultivated tender years and hopeful that perhaps my children will one day nestle into their childhood memories wrapped in warm nostalgia. And when they slip into the crevices of their past, I pray their path is cushioned with big dreams. God-sized dreams.

As my children journey through their memories there will always be shards of broken dreams littering the way, and that is OK. For some dreams are white-washed and need to be shattered in one sacred breath by The Cornerstone. Other dreams are nothing short of God-breathed. These are the spaces of our lives where Christ is most evident; Where I leave off and my God is all that remains. And who's to say this can't all be accomplished in the tiniest of frames? Who's to say a toddler is too small for God-sized dreams? Who's to say your 4 foot, nuthin' son cannot be the link to eradicating extreme poverty? Who's to say your teenage daughter cannot be a voice for the voiceless, braces and all? If your children come to you with dreams so big your breath catches in your throat, let them. Let them dream and let them pursue those dreams, no matter how impossible or elusive they may seem to be. 

Dreams, fulfilled and broken alike, all reflect the handiwork and brilliance of our Savior. In wholeness or brokenness all we have, are and hope to be is cocooned in our Creator. He alone knows what vibrant colors will emerge to take wing. 

Let them dream, let them soar!

Blessings,
Cynthia

Let Them: A Saturday Series

This first Saturday series is called "Let Them". There are so many things we just big, fat don't let our kids do. I'm meeting some of those things head-on and seeing what happens.

Let Them Do What They Love

Disassembling transponders, creating new recipes, building a robot, writing original music scores, painting, gardening, raising sea monkeys. Every child is hardwired with certain talents and interests. We encourage additional interests, but there are inherent "bents" in each person. One person is artsy. Another is analytical. A third is adventurous. Too often society tries to cram all the kids into their cookie cutter hobbies. Everyone in grade school takes an art class which means painting old soup cans for Mother' Day pencil holders. What about the poor kid who would rather manipulate magnets or design a scale model replica solar hovercraft? 

Before all the teachers give me an earful about trying to staff and budget my insane programs, let me say thank you. Thank you for teaching art when you have a degree in history. Thank you for corralling 30+ kids into a too-small art room, managing to keep paint off all their clothes and making sure their mamas receive a Mother's Day gift. You rock. Also, I know you've been saving soup cans for eons and your husband was beginning to grumble about the overflowing bags of soup cans taking up residence in his garage. You doubly rock.

I'm not suggesting an elective class for building scale model replicas of solar hovercrafts (although, how cool would that be?!?). I am suggesting moms and dads foster their children's interests, even when they don't coincide with yours. What I am not suggesting is enrolling little Susie in hip-hop, ballet and tap classes just because she busts a move in the living room. Take it easy Tiger Mom. 

So your kid keeps disassembling your vacuum cleaner? Go to Goodwill and buy the cheapest electronic gadget and hand him/her a screwdriver. Your kids are forever planting seeds from their apple snacks? Buy them flower seeds that might actually grow into something.* You see, this isn't about automatically adding more extracurricular activities to your calendar; It's about sending a strong message to your kids. I see that you really enjoy ________. You possess a God-given strength in this and I want to encourage you to pursue it! So, as we say, easy peasy lemon squeezy.**

One more note: We may not get it. It may not be our thing. It warms my heart every time I hear mamas talk superheros and comic book villains with their boys, or daddies who listen to endless princess chatter. Parents who stay tuned in despite their own disinterest will reap precious benefits. When we disengage from our children's interests we disengage from our children. When we disengage from our children we've lost the opportunity to minister to their tender hearts. 

The current sewing projects taking over my coffee table.

Blessings,
Cynthia



*My children still insist on watering their apple seeds. *Sigh* Poor homeschooled children just won't give it up...
**Not all interests are cheap nor easy. But just because Susie busts a move doesn't mean it's time to whip out the credit card. Sit on it for a season before shelling out a dime, then consider Parks and Rec, or (seriously) Youtube dance tutorials (previewed and approved by you). If she still shows interest and promise, then discuss one class. 

Let Them: A Saturday Series

This first Saturday series is called "Let Them". There are so many things we just big, fat don't let our kids do. I'm meeting some of those things head-on and seeing what happens.

Let Them READ!

I almost decided to skip this post because...DUH! Reading is so brain-feedingly good for kids, and yet we don't always make it enough of a priority. Heather over at Cultivated Lives (aren't we cute with our matchy-matchy blog names?) is way smarter than yours truly and can explain all the important reasons why reading is good for growing brains. All I know is if I institute a quiet time and tell them to grab a stack of a books, I can have an almost silent house for a good hour. I'll take it. 

So, here's a short story* to illustrate my point:

Once upon a time there was a little boy who would read. When his mother caught him she said, "You obviously have extra time on your hands." and consequently would give him more chores. While he developed a strong work ethic, his love for books was sadly dimmed. At the same time, there was a little girl who grew up steeped in books and was encouraged to stretch her imagination muscles. The little boy and the little girl grew up and had to get jobs. Can you guess which one became a librarian (and holds a degree in Library Science**)? 

(It just so happens they fell in love with each other and got married in there too, but that has little bearing on the point I'm trying to make. Although..."They lived happily ever after" does wrap it up nicely for me.)

Source

If I could encourage parents to do only one thing to help their kids learn, it would be to let them read. Every day. If they are too young, read to them. We have two independent readers and we still read books together too. It's the perfect excuse to sit down for a few minutes, cuddle up on the couch, recharge, and fill their little emotional buckets. Besides, you might just be raising the next librarian!

Off To The Library,

Cynthia

P.S. Audio books are good too (although not as stimulating to the brain as actual reading). Instead of T.V. at night, try audio books.

*All characters appearing in this work are factual. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely deliberate

**Yeah, I didn't know you could have a Master's in that either.

Let Them: A Saturday Series

This first Saturday series is called "Let Them". There are so many things we just big, fat don't let our kids do. I'm meeting some of those things head-on and seeing what happens.

Let Them Savor Nature

Caveat: if you live in the country, this will not apply to you, so just skip it or read it and pity us city folks who have to try so hard to find some dirt in which to play.

Discovering top-secret pine tree hideouts, laying down in knee-high field grass, clambering up rocky river banks, picking flowers under a brilliantly azure sky, skipping smooth stones on a placid lake or letting the pounding waves of the ocean mesmerize your senses.

It sounds so idyllic, doesn't it?

This is more what it looks like with our houseful of girls:
"Aaaahhhhhhhh! A bug!"
(eying crude toilet) "I'll hold it until Tuesday."
"When are we going home?"
(silent screams accompanied by impressively spastic footwork and followed by trying to play it cool) "Uh...Bug...?"

Not to mention all the pre-trip work that goes into an excursion: It takes several hours for us to prepare everything-meals made, baby gear checked, last minute bathroom treks, and the van loaded to capacity.

My blood pressure is rising just thinking about it. A trip through the Lowe's garden center starts looking more appealing.*

Our nature trips always seem to get off to a rocky start. The girls are uptight about bugs, one of them can't stand the feel of having dirty hands, the youngest will choose those moments to cry for no reason. However, the uneasiness fades and before long we spy our girls digging canals, casting their fishing rods like pros, and splashing in dirty river water without a second thought to what is lurking in the shallow waters.

Time spent in nature will always remain unmatched. There is no substitute and no close second. We're not talking about stepping out your front door to catch a breath of fresh air before tackling your bank statement. We're talking about getting away for a length of time (days, hours...doesn't matter) to experience God's canvas. Your modus operandi is of little consequence. Go camping in an RV, backpacking through a national forest, chasing lizards through the desert, or drifting in a canoe. Nature is nature and the benefits remain unchanged.

Our souls were never meant to connect with concrete and fluorescent lighting. Nature unfetters the soul; It breathes renewed vigor into the crevices and corners of the body and mind. Indulging a nature habit is indeed worth the hassle and can foster a lifelong conduit between our children and their Almighty Creator.

Country folks, breathe deeply and take not your surroundings for granted. Fellow city folks, don't breathe too deeply.** Instead, let's be willing to make the effort. Research nearby state parks, hiking/biking trails, farms, lakes, caves, whatever! In most cases we are not that far from natural beauty.

As Spring unfurls her wings in the Northern Hemisphere, now is the perfect time to soak in some nature. Just don't forget the moist towelettes and sunscreen.


Get Out And Get Dirty,
Cynthia



*Six packs of perennials and 50 lb. bags of mulch are nature-ish, right?
**Lest the pollution cause an asthma flare-up.

Let Them: A Saturday Series

This first Saturday series is called "Let Them". There are so many things we just big, fat don't let our kids do. I'm meeting some of those things head-on and seeing what happens.

Let Them Run With You

Can I tell you how much I have been dreading this blog post? A lot. I've been dreading it a lot. Let me confess this: I don't exercise. I consider chasing after kids exercise enough. Horrible, I know. My husband is one of those people. You know. The ones who exercise. He runs. What is that all about? What's worse, he does this running thing in the early morning. What a dreadful way to start the day! I am not, have not, and never will be a morning runner. Mornings were designed for steaming mugs of coffee. And doughnuts. 

And now he's roped the children into this.

The olders go running with him. It's sickening and adorable all at the same time. Sickening because now I have to eat my doughnuts by myself. Adorable because he's spending beautiful time with them and I can envision them doing something fun like the Color Run.*

Aaaaaaand that's when God smacked me upside the head. I tried reminding God that we're "one flesh" (His words, not mine), so technically, technically I'm exercising too. He didn't buy it. So, with great trepidation, I recently broached the subject with my husband. I've been eyeing bicycles lately and trying to "pep talk" myself into riding again. As good husbands go, he assured me that I'm probably not as horrible of a rider as I think I am. We'll see about that.** 

Our kids need the example from both of us. I don't want my girls to feel like exercising is for men and baking is for women. They need to see their mama taking care of her body. Scratch that; I need it. It's not quite as simple to exercise with children, but it's doable (as my husband has proved). So here we go! 

Any mamas identify? Exercising mamas, how do you involve the kiddos? 

Stretching Out,
Cynthia

P.S. There are no accompanying photos for this post because that would require me getting up and taking pictures of my little runners. All before coffee. 



* I considered participating, but I got over it. 
**My shoelaces are always in cahoots with the pedals and I tend to use fences as brakes. 

Let Them: A Saturday Series

This first Saturday series is called "Let Them". There are so many things we just big, fat don't let our kids do. I'm meeting some of those things head-on and seeing what happens.

Let Them Fight

Have you ever witnessed a mama intervene in an argument between her children? Most likely we all have seen it, been there and done that. Have you ever seen a mama intervene in an argument between her grown son and daughter-in-law. Awkward, to say the least. 

We're a fighting family, but not a yelling family. Some people feel that "fighting" is too harsh of a word, so we cloak it in more agreeable terms such as "having a discussion" or "a disagreement". It's all fighting, and that's OK. You use whatever word you want, m'kay?

To instruct children not to fight is to teach rules over relationships. All we're accomplishing is controlled behavior in a controlled environment. Eventually our children will fight, despite our best efforts to the contrary. Let's provide a safe place for our children to learn how to lovingly duke it out, shall we? After all, we don't want to be the referee in their adult "discussions". 

Rules to Fighting:

1. Same with getting angry, you do not need an audience. Take it outside, in the garage or in your room.
2. Kind words, kind voice. This means you cannot smile sweetly to the other party and say, "I hate your face." nor can you holler at the back of their head, "I'M SORRY!!*"
3. Avoid always/never statements. They're lame and untrue. Always.
4. End with prayer. We confess and seek forgiveness from the offended party and from God and ask for His help to love one another.**

Optional Conclusion: Have them sit with their noses touching until they can't help but crack up. ***

Note: If they're going to come to blows, it might be a good idea to step in. Blood is so tricky to clean out of carpet.

On That Note,
Cynthia

P.S. Here are a couple of photo outtakes for your enjoyment:

*Each syllable should be punctuated by angry jabs into the air. Extra points for actual steam coming out of ears.
**Eavesdroppers are encouraged to pray for their siblings in another room. We don't need any more rings in the circus.
***This is not advised during cold season...or if you have a headbutter. 

Let Them: A Saturday Series

This first Saturday series is called "Let Them". There are so many things we just big, fat don't let our kids do. I'm meeting some of those things head-on and seeing what happens.

Let Them Blow Bubbles In Their Milk

Through a child's eyes, one of the best uses for a straw is reversing the airflow. For some reason, there is nothing quite as satisfying as the gurgle of milk bubbles, watching the mountain of bubbles grow to overflowing. The goal is pushing the limit. How high can you get the bubble tower without it actually overflowing or beginning to pop?

Through a parent's eyes, one of the best uses for a straw is to use them to draw straws for who cleans up the dog barf. 

In this day and age, parents are overly concerned with efficiency to the detriment of simple childhood pleasures. We wince when we see the puddle of glue growing. We inwardly groan at the thought of a fort, because it means extra sheets to wash and living space commandeered by a maze of blankets and chairs.* The most refreshing drink during the hot summers can be found at the end of a garden hose. Sure, they end up with wet shoes (or more) and could have filled nine glasses in the time they took to manage three slurps. 

So what?

I'm not suggesting we go all "Peter Pan" on life, but refusing (for selfish reasons) the carefree joys of childhood does little more than make for disappointing memories. So, mamas, go buy a pack of straws, enjoy sticky popsicles, make forts, drink deeply, not only from the hose, but of these days. These glorious, fleeting days.

Drinking Deeply,
Cynthia



*Not to mention the excruciating, cuss-worthy pain of stepping on a pocket flashlight.

Let Them: A Saturday Series

This first Saturday series is called "Let Them". There are so many things we just big, fat don't let our kids do. I'm meeting some of those things head-on and seeing what happens.

Let Them Contribute To The Family

Last Saturday we chatted about kids and money. Chores were part of that conversation, so I figured I'd wrap this up into a neat little package for you by attacking those dreaded chores. 

Lie #1: The right system will make chores flow seamlessly in our day.
Lie #2: You can make any chore fun.*
Lie #3: Kids will grumble through chores and it's not worth the fight.
Lie #4: It's easier for me to do it myself.
Lie #5: They're too young/They'll mess up.


OK, so there's a nugget of truth to some of these, but here's the deal: You aren't running a Bed & Breakfast. These are human beings, and they aren't the Queen of England, so they can darn well help with the laundry. I won't bore you with the details of our children's chores. Suffice to say we have printed workable chore charts for the three olders, shoved the chart in a page protector sleeve, stuck it to the fridge and we cross stuff off with a dry erase marker as it is accomplished. We (the parents) are the ones preoccupied with the structure of chores. You'll notice no kids are scouring Pinterest looking for the ideal chore system. That's why I'm not sharing the specifics of our system. You don't need any more ideas; Just give something a whirl and tweak it as needed to fit your family. 

More than cleaning games and children's annoyingly peppy cleaning songs, your attitude will make or break the deal. If we approach cleaning as just another part of life, eventually you'll meet with less resistance. Eventually. I was struck with the truth of this last night as I asked my oldest to unload the dishwasher. She was in the middle of playing...with a friend...who was spending the night. She didn't bat an eye (or roll them either). She just did it, because it's one of her chores this week. Our kids clue in to our attitudes. If I grumble my way through cleaning and gnash my teeth over messes, why would I expect my kids to do otherwise?

It's NOT easier for me to do it myself, and it IS worth the fight. We've heard it before. We've read it in books and other blogs. We all know that it's trying at first, and we just need to persevere, because it's worth it in the end. Right? Right. Here's what I have to add to that: Their future room mates, spouses, children and house guests will benefit. Your family will benefit. One reason gangs are so tight is because each member contributes, is held to a standard and has responsibilities. We could learn a thing or two. If we want our children to have strong bonds within the family, they need to make real contributions (not just letting the dog out or fluffing pillows). They need to be held to a standard.** Real responsibilities leave a person knowing that others depend on them to complete a task. If my kids can say, "Oh well. Mom will do it." Nu-uh. No dice Kemo Sabe. They need to know that everyone in the family is depending on their contribution or else there will be something undone, something lacking in the home. Now I'm not claiming that slapping a broom in your kid's hands will keep them off drugs, but just like the family dinner, it's bound to have a positive effect. And that is easier for me and is worth the fight. 

Some kids truly are too young. Our youngest can barely hold her head upright, let alone a dish (Psh. Slacker). I refuse to give you a system, but I will say this: If they can reach it, they can help with it.*** A toddler can reach the laundry basket. A grade-schooler can reach the stove top.

We all know they will mess it up. There's grace. 
We all know it's hard work. Training our children is worth it. 

And sometimes you will need to secretly go back over a chore. But if you get caught, you'll have a heck of a time explaining yourself. 

Grab A Duster,
Cynthia



*I'm sorry, but cleaning behind the toilet is not fun no matter what song and dance accompanies it. 
**The room shouldn't look like an F3 tornado just leveled it.
***For the vertically challenged I present The Footstool. Use it. Learn to love it.

Let Them: A Saturday Series

This first Saturday series is called "Let Them". There are so many things we just big, fat don't let our kids do. I'm meeting some of those things head-on and seeing what happens.

Let Them Mismanage Their Money

You heard me. Let 'em blow it all on dumb stuff. If they want to buy trinkety, break-in-a-week, gimmicky toys, so be it. It doesn't take long for children to begin to appreciate the value of money and the benefits of saving it up for something better than plastic heart-shaped Slinkies. 

Well, that makes for a short blog post. 

I guess I'll let you in on how we train our children in the ways of finances. 

We provide each of our children with an allowance. Allowances begin at age two, because anyone younger just eats the money. Literally. For every year of age, we provide 50 cents. Therefore, our nine year-old receives $4.50/week, our six year-old receives $3.00/week and our three year-old receives $1.50/week. Once we hit the teen years, I have a feeling we'll be adjusting this rubric.*

Okey dokey. This is the tricky part. Our kids do not receive an allowance based on completed chores. However, their allowance is connected to their chores. It looks something like this: Part of being a family means contributing to the running of the household. Part of being your parents means contributing to your savings. You will not get paid to do chores, but if you choose to not contribute to the care of our home, Mama and Daddy will choose to not contribute to the weight of your piggy banks. 

So there's that. Take it or leave it.

Every Monday, we do "Savings". The girls all have money tins: one each for serving, saving and spending. Ten percent a piece goes to the first two tins and the remainder goes to the latter. Serving is their tithe, saving is their bank account (which requires periodical trips to the credit union to make deposits**), and spending is free reign. They can do what they wish with their spending money. When they're younger, it is oftentimes squandered on cheap, chintzy junk.*** By the time they are school-aged, they have financial goals. Naomi is undeterred in saving up for a Kindle. It will take her several more months, but she recognizes the value in forgoing spending now, in order to reap a greater reward later. 

Q: Isn't it hard to set aside that money every week?
A: It's worth the training and it's cheaper than bailing them out of debt later.

Q: Shouldn't we teach them not to waste money?
A: Experience is the best teacher. When they they set their sights on the prize (be it a Suzy Q peeing doll, a Kindle, or a trip to Disneyland), they will learn not to squirrel away their money in the checkout lane.

Q: Isn't it painful to watch them waste your money?
A: It is no longer my money AND that pain is replaced by elation when they "get it" and begin setting long-term financial goals.

Q: You're so intelligent. Will you go out with me?
A: I'm happily married.
Just making sure you're still reading.

I realize this post is more technical than usual, but thanks for hanging in there with me. I hope it helps!

Reporting From My Counting House,
Cynthia


* Someone clue me in: Do teens still ask their parents for money? 
**Of which we often resemble a traveling circus.
***Or sweet-talked into the pocket of an older sister...they learn. 

Let Them: A Saturday Series

This first Saturday series is called "Let Them". There are so many things we just big, fat don't let our kids do. I'm meeting some of those things head-on and seeing what happens.

Let Them Juggle Knives

Well, OK. Maybe juggling isn't the brightest idea, but "Let Them Use Age-Appropriate Sharp Instruments" is just so dry and cumbersome, don't you agree?

Let me begin by saying, that YOU know your kids better than anyone else. You know if it's a good idea to let your six year-old handle a knife. This is my experience based on the children we currently parent.

Our oldest is nine. She's a girly-girl, with a tomboy streak buried in between layers of nail polish and lip gloss. A while back, she got the notion to whittle a stick. My husband handed her his Leatherman and let 'er have at it. She uses paring knives on a daily basis. Our second oldest is six. The Leatherman is harder for her to control, but she has tried her hand at whittling as well. When Mikayla doesn't cut up the snack, Naomi will grab a paring knife and do the job herself. 

For Mikayla's birthday last year, I decided that a Spirograph would make a fantastic gift. Imagine my horror when I discovered that all the new Spirographs are magnetic! No more push pins to hold the pieces down? What?!? How else will my child learn the delicate art of not stabbing her fingers with push pins? I'll tell you how. We bought an old Spirograph off of Ebay and provided our own weapons thumbtacks. 

It's OK for children to handle sharp objects. They will survive. A generation ago, children carried pocket knives to school.* Not once, in all my school years did someone get seriously injured with a knife. This is merely a symptom of a greater problem; We (as a society) are preoccupied with safety (our own as well as our children's). We cannot insulate our children from every danger and potential harm. Therefore, we may as well encourage our children to learn safe handling of "dangerous" tools. Trade out "sharp" for "pointy", "loaded", or any other conceivably risky gizmo. The message remains the same: Let them!

I'm giving you permission (if you feel you need it) to pop the bubble around your kids and let them live dangerously (not irresponsibly, just dangerously). Where else better to be trained to live dangerously than in one's own home with one's own parents? 

If I can't bring myself to let my children live dangerously with a 2" blade, how will I ever train them to live dangerously for the gospel?  


Next Up: A Whet Stone,
Cynthia




*Confession: It may have had something to do with growing up in a hick town (which I unashamedly loved). 

Let Them: A Saturday Series

This first Saturday series is called "Let Them". There are so many things we just big, fat don't let our kids do. I'm meeting some of those things head-on and seeing what happens.

Let Them Give It Away

"I want to give this toy away."
cringe
I can think of a handful of reasons we should keep said toy. It was a special birthday present. It's still a popular toy in the house. You haven't had it that long.

Most of the time I let it go in the giveaway bag. None of the time have they regretted their choice. Here's the deal: I would rather train them in generosity than in hoarding treasures "where moth and rust destroy." If that means they give away something I'd prefer they keep, so be it. I'm more concerned with their character than the contents of their toy bin.

Just to make this blog post a little longer, I'll toss my "rules" below:
1. I oversee the process. When they were younger, I gathered the toys I preferred to never lay eyes on again and invite them to choose 2-3 to donate.* As the kiddos mature, I loosen the leash. Now, Miss CEO almost has free rein in the donating arena.
2. If a strong majority are in favor of donating a specific toy, I will set it aside and see if the holdout notices the missing toy. If a couple weeks go by with no questions asked, in the bag it goes.
3. If only one child is in favor of donating a specific toy, it stays.
4. You may not donate your sister's toys.
5. There are about a dozen Non-Negotiables. These are family heirlooms, and they are free to donate them when I'm dead.

Chances are, six months from now, none of you will remember what you donated. So give it a go; Fill a bag with your kids and trot over to Goodwill.** If you miss your junk that much, go visit it on the weekends.

These are a permanent fixture in our home.

Filling A Bag,
Cynthia

*When it starts looking like the toy counter at Chuck E Cheese, something's gotta give. Can I get an "Amen"?
**Contribute to the bag and you'll be doing that whole "lead by example" thing. Sometimes it smarts, but in the end you're more blessed than before.

Let Them: A Saturday Series

This first Saturday series is called "Let Them". There are so many things we just big, fat don't let our kids do. I'm meeting some of those things head-on and seeing what happens.

Let Them Get Dirty

Idyllic images of children tromping through the grass, finding treasures, playing in the dirt, climbing trees. The tantalizing scent of freshly baked bread wafts through the house and you smile as you consider your little blessings. Your precious brood comes running for homemade chocolate chip cookies, and you smile sweetly as they race through the yard and open the back door with gusto, proudly clutching a bouquet of "flowers" picked just for you. You exclaim over their beauty, hugging the giver and inhaling the sweet scent of sunshine that has soaked into their pores. 

Oh, sweet summertime memories.

Even I want to climb into that picturesque scene.* Let me paint the scene that unfolds in our home:

It's melt-your-face-off hot, and everyone has been cooped up in the air-conditioned house. I smile sweetly at my children and remind them that dogs still poop in 120 degree heat, so here's a bag. Skedaddle. After mild protests, they procure a bag, don their flip-flops and head out the door. In ten second flat they have cleared the yard and are ready to head for cooler temperatures. I open the back door to encourage them to play for a while longer on their flaming torch swing set. The most unpleasant scent assaults my nostrils as I realize they have deposited a bag of sun-baked dog poop right by the back door. They whine, and in a moment of desperation I suggest turning on the hose. Their eyes light up at the prospect, and they are back out the door in a flash. I smile smugly that I am going to have at least ten minutes to sneak chocolate read my Bible. Two hours later, I hear excited shouts from the yard. Disposing of chocolate wrappers like a pro, I saunter outside to see what my little angels have been up to. Suffice to say that if mud were the only life-sustaining source left on the planet, my children were going on nine lives. As was the side of the house, their clothes, the patio...forget trying to find their shoes; Those are sunk in the bog that became our backyard. 

The internal dialogue goes something like this:

I just mopped three days ago. How can I prevent the tracking of grass and mud into the house? I'm gonna have to treat all their clothes for stains. They'll have to take showers right away, which is going to throw off our whole evening schedule. 

I'm thankful those were mere thoughts and not words spoken to my children. One look into their shining eyes told me it truly was all worth it. Three of my girls were planted in the middle of their mud sculptures, excitedly sharing the details from their imaginations. There was no "tromping" into the house. I hosed them off best I could while they continued to chatter on about their muddy adventures. I laid down some grungy towels and they did go straight into the shower. Fifteen minutes later they emerged with only dirty fingernails as evidence of their afternoon excursion. My floors survived. And while there was only store-bought bread with Skippy peanut butter for a snack, the vote is unanimous:  MUD has made it into the Summertime Memories Hall of Fame. 

Mamas, let them squish mud between their toes, get dirt in their ears and sand in their shoes. I've learned that children, clothes and floors are washable.

Off To The Park,

Cynthia

*I'll fist bump Mary Poppins while I'm there.

Let Them: A Saturday Series

This first Saturday series is called "Let Them". There are so many things we just big, fat don't let our kids do. I'm meeting some of those things head-on and seeing what happens.

Let Them Sacrifice

Let's face it. It's uber-easy to let cute, adorable little babies be the center of attention. Of course babies do require a lot of attention, but as babies become toddlers and toddlers become grade schoolers they need to step out of the center of the universe. Otherwise what we end up with is teenagers with entitlement issues and sadistic adults. I paint a bleak picture, but I don't think it's far off the mark. All these parenting books with titles like, "How to Raise Happy Children" kinda make me gag. Just a wee bit. 

I'd much rather raise children who have strong morals than children who have strong desires for more. 

It can be uncomfortable to watch your children make sacrifices. Sometimes they donate things you wish they would choose to keep. Sometimes you can do nothing to soothe the pain of rejection when their offer to help is rebuffed. Sometimes you may disagree with their method or perceived motivation.* Isn't the outcome worth the pain though? We need the next generation to know what it means to love others for the sake of the gospel. If they don't practice this as younguns, do we really believe it will spontaneously occur in adulthood? 

Of course, the best way to let them sacrifice is to model it in our own lives. Do our children see us justifying our way out of helping someone in need? Do they see us discussing with our spouse why volunteering is 'impossible right now"? If we're not in the business of loving others sacrificially how can we expect to pass the mantle to our children? Let's begin by reflecting on our own sacrificing!

With Lent right around the corner, it's a great time to kick start a sacrificing campaign in your home.** Here's a simple guideline for young kids:

Something that's lasting,

Something you eat.

Save up your nickels,

Or give up a treat.

Lasting
Eat
Nickels
Treat

Lasting. Considering volunteering your time, or doing weekly service projects with your kids. Visit a nursing home or help a neighbor. Do something of lasting value in the lives of others.

Eat. Decide on a favorite food to eschew during Lent (think cookies, pancakes or mac 'n' cheese). Older kids can fast from a meal with you, but obviously you need to consider this more carefully depending on their age. Or work this the opposite way: Eat a simple dinner meal to demonstrate what poverty-stricken children might eat in a day. 

Nickels. Let them choose a ministry to bless. Make a "Lent giving jar" where they can see their money adding up for a great purpose. Perhaps they would like to purchase an animal through World Vision. I mean really. How many kids get to say they bought ducks and rabbits during Lent? They'll start a whole new fad, and you'll be the cool parents and everyone will like you. 

Treat. Everyone enjoys their treat. For some it's pedicures. For others it's golfing. For kids it might be watching cartoons or playing on the computer. Give up a treat and instead allocate that time for diving into the Word or starting a new family devotion. Replace the treat time with kingdom time. You get the idea.

Give it a shot and let me know how it goes. I don't know about you, but I get excited about a generation that has been encouraged to sacrifice!


Trying To Lead By Example,
Cynthia




*Giving with wrong motivation is still a start and does help foster a habit of giving. 
**I'll take the guesswork out of it. This year, Lent begins on February 13th. You're welcome.

Let Them: A Saturday Series

Welcome to my first Saturday blog series! I was going to call it "Cynthia's Super Saturday Series Extravaganza!!!" but "extravaganza" doesn't begin with an "S" sound...

My Saturday Series will have a narrow focus and intended audience.* This first series is called "Let Them". There are so many things we just big, fat don't let our kids do. I'm going to meet some of those things head-on and see what happens.

Let Them Get Angry.

"But I Don't. Want. To. Wash. My. Haaaaaaaaaannnnnndssssss!!!" Each word is punctuated with stomps down the hall, followed by the sounds of angry hand-washing. Tell me you know what angry hand-washing sounds like? Water on full blast, slamming the soap down, grabbing the towel and leaving it on a heap on the floor...**

Or

Feeling hurt by a friend on the playground and (two hours later) using unnecessary force when unloading the dishwasher. 

Or 

The oh so wonderful eye-roll and huffing to the bedroom.

And I'm not just talking about me. Ba-doom, ching!

OK, but let's be candid; most of us have lost our tempers. I've slammed cabinets in frustration. I've raised my voice when I should have taken a deep breath. I've given icy glares to those I profess to love the most. I've offered lengthy lectures over piddly things. It never resolves anything, but if I'm willing to be honest, sometimes it feels satisfying to get really angry over something. The trick is not sinning in my anger. 

Why would it be any different for my kids? 

We have a general rule: It's fine to be angry. It's not fine to sin in our anger, and you do not need an audience. Therefore, you can be angry in your room (or the garage or backyard*** if the room is occupied at the moment). We'll reconvene once spirits are calm. 

It's a timeout without a timer. Take as long as you need to gather your senses and give your initial anger over to God. Usually within five minutes the (formerly...or mostly formerly) angry party has returned to the living room and is ready to address not only their anger, but any accompanying sinful attitudes and actions (this is where I apologize for the towel-throwing and eye-rolling). We pray together and I encourage them to ask God for help. If it's me who was in self-sanctioned timeout, I treat the situation the same: I apologize for any wrong behavior(s) and pray with my kids. No one is berated for feeling angry. Ever.

God has created us with a beautiful array of emotions. We don't need to be afraid of anger. There is a function to anger (after all, righteous anger can spur us into action). If we're too busy combating the symptoms (e.g. temper tantrums), we miss the heart issue and the opportunity to help our kids navigate their emotions in a Godly fashion.

I'd be angry if my hair was that static-y too.

Comparing Prices of Punching Bags,
Cynthia

P.S. All photos were staged. No children were angered in the making of this blog post (despite Mikayla's convincingly angry expression).



*A nice way of saying "Some of you could care less, because you're in a different stage/place in life".
**Before parenting, I had no idea hand-washing could sound angry. Oh the things we learn.
***Now is not the time to suggest they do "backyard duty". Nothing good can come from angry kids handling dog poop.