Posts Tagged ‘Christian Parenting’

In an ongoing effort to train our children in godly honesty, I dove this week into the topic of false flattery versus worthy compliments. Using real-life examples, I showed my ladies how meaningful a compliment is when it is spoken in truth, but how empty and dishonest flattery is in contrast.

“He who rebukes a man will in the end gain more favor than he who has a flattering tongue.” ~Proverbs 28:23

At the same time, I tackled the issue of building each other up. I explained how constant negativity and harsh words can harm others, but how words of encouragement and honest praise are a blessing to the recipient.

“A word aptly spoken is like apples of gold in settings of silver.” ~Proverbs 25:11

I encouraged them to guard their tongues, choose their words carefully, and refrain from false flattery. I called on them to make an extra effort to look for opportunities to build each other up.

Words from Mother often lose their potency en route to young brains, and I wondered what effect if any would come of it. Any conscientious parent thrills to see a bit of maturity and compassion in her children. Would they prove to have listened and taken the lesson to heart?

You decide. Read the rest of this entry »

Some days between hugs, food for the body, food for the soul, lessons of life, lessons from books, lessons even for Mother, there is no time for written words. This is one of those days. It seems, at times, this is one of those lives.

Since I have many words to share, but cannot get any on paper (or screen) in these busy days, please take a peak at a mother’s heart with a brief visit to Ann.

To all you mothers out there who have ever hurt, struggled, cried, laughed, and loved, remember…

…His grace.

Let them be girls!

Let them be beautiful.

Let them kiss babies and pick flowers.

Let them wear flowing skirts and frilly dresses that twirl.

Let them wear braids and ribbons and pretty bows in their long hair.

Let them love horses and kittens and soft fluffy puppies.

Let them skip and sing.

Girls are beautiful.

Girls are precious.

Girls are not boys.

So…

Don’t make them dress like boys.

Don’t suppress their need to mother.

Don’t undervalue their efforts at making a lovely and peaceful home.

There will always be wars and battles, smog and ugliness, greed and unrest.

What the world needs is modest beauty and gentle strength.

Let the girls learn to make home a beautiful haven.

Let them learn to be pleasant wives and loving mothers.

Let them learn to be soft and gentle in a harsh world.

Let them be who God designed them to be.

Let them be girls!

Covered in honey, how I do not know, he comes to me with his hands up, his hair stuck in impossible directions.

“I’m sticky, Mommy.”

“Tub, now!” I revert to my mono-syllabic mom-speak.

I carry Mr. Sticky to the tub, peel off the outer layer of goo which still remotely resembles a shirt and jeans, and run the water.

My smallest children have always been water magnets. They hear the water, they come running. This time is no different. With a baby on my lap and two children in the tub, I start the scrub routine, until…

“Mommy, I haffa go pottyyyyyy!”

“Ah, ah, ah, ah! Don’t go in here!” shrieks the child who all too often has been whisked prematurely out of a tub when her brother adds a little magic of his own to the mix.

I set the slippery, wet boy on the toilet against the opposite wall and return to my scrubbing.

Flying solo on the potty behind me, my in-training son shoots me in the back with…well, the only ammunition he has at the moment.

His look of shock matches mine. This child has wet on me a lot, but usually I see it coming. Being shot in the back is a new twist. The little fellow doesn’t know whether to laugh or…run! He watches my face carefully before determining his next move. Read the rest of this entry »

His blue jeans are worn at the knees. His hair is moppy, tousled by the ceaseless activities of a three-year-old boy, resisting the smoothing strokes of maternal hands. His sober face is turned up to me. His deep brown eyes, his father’s gift to him, are wide with concern as he awaits the answer to his question. Bemused, I ask him to repeat.

His voice is urgent.

“Are the monsters that are hiding in the bathroom to get me sleeping?”

Unsure whether to laugh at the ridiculous question or to cry at the awareness that to this small child it is not ridiculous, I kneel beside him and study his large, waiting eyes. Read the rest of this entry »

It has been gloomy here in our desert. The sky has been grey and cheerless, the mountains obscured by listless clouds seemingly reaching to the earth. Living almost constantly under the cheering influence of the sun, we desert-dwellers suffer a bit of enviro-shock when its warming rays are missing. With the darkening of the skies comes the darkening of the mood.  We grow tense, morose, and dilatory. It’s pathetic, I know, this micro-version of seasonal anxiety disorder, but, hey, nobody ever said you had to be tough to live in the desert with air-conditioning!

I liken the gloomy effects of an overcast day to the contagious results of a mother’s countenance.  Like most overused sayings, the expression “if Mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy” is grounded in the basic truths of a mother’s influence. Mother’s smile, kind word, or loving caress spreads peace over her brood, but equally as potent is Mother’s frown, sharp rebuke, or impatient gesture. Read the rest of this entry »

I believe all homeschool mothers with an ounce of honesty have closet confessions regarding their dual role as mother and teacher. I can’t imagine any not having a few mixed emotions about the many facets of being both parent and teacher, homework giver and homework helper, alarm clock setter and school bell ringer, lunch lady, bus driver, and substitute teacher. Many have taken a glance or two at the giant twinky (a.k.a. school bus), some, perhaps, with a bit of longing. I wouldn’t be honest if I didn’t make a few confessions of my own.

Although the twinky has held certain unrealistic appeal at times, the closest I have ever gotten to sending my little lambs out to a different pasture is enacting my patented decoy bathroom routine. It’s remarkably simple, and amazingly effective. Here’s the routine. I turn the light on in one bathroom, lock the door, and close it from the outside. Then I head to a separate bathroom, leave the light off and the door open. There I sit, holding my breath, trying to read something of adult content (Christian adult content, I mean) while the flock bleats at the door of the decoy bathroom. In other words, I’ve been there! I’ve had those days where all I want to do is sit on the floor of the pantry eating chocolate chips out of the bag! Read the rest of this entry »