Never too many children or too many flowers!

In almost every garden, the land is made better and so is the gardener. --Robert Rodale

Until last spring, I was a dash and splash gardener. I'd dash off to the garden store every spring and buy some annuals and some vegetables and ensure a splash of color and flavor for the season. What influenced this approach, I think, was the gardening of my childhood. We moved from place to place because my father was in the Navy. As soon as the boxes were unpacked, my mother would hang pictures and curtains and whatever else she could to make it feel like home. But it was only temporary. No wallpaper or remodeling--nothing with roots. We wouldn't be there long. So I learned to love begonias and tomatoes, plants that gave us pleasure for a short while and didn't trouble me when we moved on.

There were some stately oaks dripping with Spanish moss in our backyard in Charleston, SC. I did love those trees. But I didn't plant them and I wasn't overly attached to them. From there, we moved to Northern Virginia. And someone planted peonies. I don't know if it was my mother or my father or the people who lived in the house before us. I just know that they came back year after year after year. I know they bloomed for my senior prom. I know they were perennials. Perennials. They had roots; they counted on someone to care for them from season to season, year after year. And they bloomed predictably. I lived in that house longer than any other in my childhood. And I learned I liked things that grew.

Then, I got married and moved into a house with a little bit of land of its own. I didn't know a thing about planting a garden. All I really knew was that in the spring, I was supposed to go and buy some color for the front beds. I planted impatiens. I remember the first season I planted them--I was impatient! I squatted in the garden nine and a half months and hoped the very act of planting would put me into labor. Did you know that impatiens grow seed pods in the fall that pop when small boys squeeze them? And that means that in the spring, "volunteer" impatiens bloom? Not really perennials, but still, color from the year before--a sense of continuity.

Years and years went by. Years of not knowing how long we'd be in a house. Years of having babies and babies and babies  and not having a whole lot of time for planning and planting and tending a garden...Until last year.

Last year, we dug in. We had truckloads of dirt delivered to our house and our boys shoveled and hauled and spread. We all studied gardening together. And then I bought perennial flowers and herbs. These were a whole new world of plants to me. These were plants that would flower and grow and then I would tend them in the fall and they would come again--bigger, better, stronger, more--the following year. These were plants in which to invest time and energy and love. These were plants that begged my patience.They were little tiny things when I planted them last year. They whispered, "Trust me. Take good care of me. Wait for me. Watch me grow."

I could do that. I was well practiced at that. I have children. Like  a little row of flowers, they are growing. Some are a bit on the wild side and their beauty catches one off guard. Some are more contained and utterly lovely at first glance, only to be lovelier the longer you look. Some require careful, almost constant pruning. Others are decidedly low maintenance. Together, they are breathtaking!

The thing about gardening, I've discovered, is that there's always room for one more plant. A little shifting, a little pruning and the whole garden looks better for the addition. The plants challenge me and teach me things. Sometimes, they require that I step out in faith. I planted peonies last year, even though the nursery lady told me that they wouldn't bloom until this year. That's okay, I'm used to waiting nine months at a time for a bloom. Now, I'm watching those tightly closed buds eagerly and wondering if they'll bloom in time for Michael's senior prom. (He couldn't care less, but I think it'd be kind of cool.)

This year, I planted rosebushes. They are John Paul II roses and Our Lady of Guadalupe roses--very fitting, I think, for the first summer of Karoline Rose. People have warned me that roses are difficult to grow. I'm too inexperienced. It's too hard. I bought too many. I smile at that. I've heard it before. ..and I know that there are never too many and that, like the children, the roses will teach me; they'll show me; I'll learn what I'll need to learn. Together, we'll grow.

Visit As Cozy as Spring for the Loveliness of Gardens Fair!

Half

Half of my children are throwing up this morning. That makes four. My husband is on a plane somewhere between New Jersey and Houston. He's not landing here. I'm spraying Mrs. Meyers mixed with tea tree oil everywhere and flushing toilets like mad. I'm washing hands so much they're chapped and it's not quite 9 A.M.

And I'm blogging about it.

Why? Because someday I'll go back through the archives of this blog and I'll read this entry and I'll think "Oh, I'm so glad not to have days like that any more." And that will make me feel better right after  I've thought, "Oh I miss days like the Farm Day." At least a little better. Maybe.

Life's pretty real here today. Y'all go out and have some fun for me, too, today, okay?

Sing a New Song: Creativity

One of the things that drew me to a Charlotte Mason-style education all those many moons ago was the inclusion of music, art, and handicrafts. I wanted to be sure that education in our household never resembled the checklist style of learning being propagated in other educational venues. To me, educating a child is like weaving a tapestry. A utilitarian tapestry of only dark colors was not my goal.

I wanted several different tones and textures of threads. I wanted a fine (sort-of-classical) academic education, to be sure, but I also wanted to touch the heart and soul, the creative spirits of my children.

Recently, a conversation with a very creative soul led me to think about whether or not this is a creative household. Looking back, the train of thought seems rather ludicrous. My husband is a television producer/director/writer. I write a little myself ;-). My kids all have blogs and love to write and take photographs. Yet, there is a part of me that longs to "touch" creations. And then, I looked around.

This is, by far, my favorite piece of furniture. Michael  painted it for me last year for Mother's Day. He's always been creating--paper, pencils, paint, photos. He's a visual guy who loves to both create and to appreciate art.

But then I considered the next child. The one who can take a cardboard box and packing tape and replicate an entire television set. The one who decides that they can't play basketball in the basement until the walls are hung with NCAA banners of his making and the floor is marked to look like a basketball court.

And then to the next child. Ah. Stuck here a bit. He wants a kit and detailed directions. He's afraid to make a mistake. Perfectionism is not a good creativity enhancer. File that away to ponder a bit. Perfectionism will kill creativity. And perfectionism breeds burnout in a big way. We can't be afraid to make mistakes. We need to stretch and to grow, lest we wither and die. We need that creative stretch not just for our children (though they really, really need it), but for ourselves as well.

The fourth child has been begging me to learn to bead jewelry, to learn to sew, to learn to crochet. She loves to make flower fairies, to redecorate her bedroom frequently. Yep, creativity here, for sure. In a minute, dear...

But it was the fifth child who brought me up short. Just before Easter, I went into his room to look for a Sharpie. He hoards them. We're not sure why; we just know that if we need a Sharpie, Stephen always has them. So, he wasn't home and I needed a Sharpie. I opened his desk drawer. There were two packages of Prismacolors still sealed, a  brand new package or water colors, and a whole rainbow of Sharpies. Basically, two years' of art supplies were untouche din his drawers. He'd borrowed and scrounged when he wanted to draw.

When he got home, we had a heart to heart. He loves to draw, so I knew it wasn't that he was uninterested. Indeed, he tends to keep things "just so": clothing, food, toys. He doesn't want to mess them up. As he was telling me that he just wanted his supplies to stay nice and new, I thought of all the times I've hesitated to begin a project because I was overwhelmed by the thought of the mess, the loss of control over my environment. I thought of all the times I've said, "in a minute, dear."

Stephen and I read the parable of the talents and we talked about how eager God is to see what we DO with the creative material in our lives. In the past few days, I've noticed one brightly colored picture after another coming from his hands--and his heart.

Shortly after my discussion with Stephen, I sat down with Sewing with St. Anne. Long have I promised to learn to sew with Mary Beth using this book. No more promises. It was time to move. The girls set off to the fabric store. All you fabric junkies might not understand, but this was a trip to feed our souls if only because of its novelty.  Mary Beth and Katie had never been to a fabric store before. I took them to G Street Fabrics. Eye candy everywhere. We were drawn to the cotton florals. Half an hour later, we left the store with a stash of fabric and seam binding and thread. We are going to make bibs for Karoline (and probably some kerchiefs and hair scrunchies too--I am sure I overbought). Admittedly, these might be the most expensive bibs ever made, but I think it's cheaper than therapy and how creating will feed our souls! Just working with beautiful materials fends off the burnout.

The boys are eager to watch the bibs take shape and have already thought of some needlework projects of their own. Something about monogramming numbers on cleats and soccer bags...

As I seek to understand how important creativity is, I've been blessed with very creative women who share ideas and philosophies on creativity. Kim and Alice and Rebecca listen to me muse and encourage me with the gentle nudging of kindred spirits who know that the soul yearns for more than academics. They ensure me that nursing mothers don't have to put creativity on hold. I am reminded that one of our friends creates extraordinary rosaries while nursing a baby and another writes novels.

Mary Beth and I have spent hours looking at the art on Kimberlee's rosary site and Alice's Garden of Grace. As Kimberlee has shared her passion for creating with me in conversation, I've become more aware of how important it is to deliberately nurture creativity in a household. Posts like these make me pause and re-evaluate the atmosphere in my home. Am I giving time and attention to ensuring that creative pursuits are supported or am I just benignly allowing them to squirrel away cardboard and packing tape and calling it good? There's a place for cardboard projects,to be sure, but my children also need more from me...

And I need more. We have a house full of good writers, due, in large part to the example my husband and I set. If I never back away from the books and the keyboard, I set a one dimensional example. That's not good for the children. And it's not good for me. My soul, created in the image of the Great Creator, longs find expression in art.

Inspired by her Easter present, which was created by Kimberlee, Mary Beth reminded me again how much she wants to bead. And now I do, too! And I think that Patrick is captivated by the stones and the patterns and the place for precision in the creation of rosaries. So, we went off to buy crimping pliers and a few stones to get us going. With a creative spirit whispering in my ear and giving me a generous shove, Mary Beth and I made a simple St. Therese chaplet. I even managed to do some of it with Karoline on my lap. Admittedly, babies and toddlers can make the experience  of creating a tedious one, but if I can be content not to have everything "just so" and not to complete everything according to my time constraints, we can be happily creative here.

Handcrafts, art, and music cannot not just add-ons in this lifestyle, things we get to if there's leftover time. They need to be deliberate pursuits to which time and energy are eagerly donated.

Do we get burned out because we are stuck in a predictable but controlled rut?  It's simpler to make the checklist and hit the same routine of read, narrate, drill every day. This is one of the points which bothered me most about the CM Planner. There was no way to record those things that were not in the read-and-narrate or complete-a-page modes. If we are slaves to the checklist mentality, we will  begin to burn out because we will drive out all creativity and recreation. (Note how "creativity" and "recreation" are such similar words.)

That is not to say that all creative pursuits are spontaneous. Indeed, you will have to plan for creativity.You will need to find supplies and instruction, mentors and direction. And you will need time. Creativity isn't as easily contained. It needs a bit of breathing room and some time to germinate. It's hard some times to "justify" taking time for "real school" for paints and papers and sewing and songs .  Those creative pursuits are just as real. And they are necessary. Denying the time and opportunity  to be creative is setting oneself up for burnout. John Paul II reminded us that "With loving regard, the divine Artist passes on to the human artist a spark of his own surpassing wisdom, calling him to share in the creative power." God is calling! Can you hear him?  Put away the morning books and spend the afternoon sharing in His creative power.

Sing a New Song!

I've been at this home education thing for some time now, long enough to recognize the symptoms. When I start to say and write things like this I know I'm coming perilously close to burnout. I know; I wrote the book on burnout. Well, not the whole book, but I did write a chapter on it. And it's easily the most-requested and discussed chapter in the entire book. Since I wrote that chapter ten years ago, one would think that burnout was not an issue in my house. One would think.

But our lives are constantly evolving and one thing that mothers of many learn is that just when you have it all figured out, the family dynamic changes. A new baby is born, a husband begins a new job, a child takes on a new challenge, we pack, we move, someone is ill, someone dies. Slowly, without our recognizing it, we are like the frog dropped in temperate water who doesn't recognize it when the water begins to heat to boiling. We are rapidly approaching burnout.

Recently, a reader wrote to ask me about a passage in Real Learning. She asked me to clarify what I was trying to say when I wrote this:  Burnout occurs when we are out of sync with God. It happens when we shoulder a yoke that is not His.

When I responded, I told her that God tells us that his yoke is easy and his burden is light. So, if we are straining and fall under the yoke and the burden, it's not God's. Something that we are doing, or something in the way that we are doing it is out of God's plan. I don't mean that life is never hard or that our homes must always be filled with only sunshine and roses. But I still mean that if we are straining and falling and sinning under the strain of the yoke, it's not God's yoke. He never leads us into sin. Yes, we will suffer, but I have learned that it is indeed possible to suffer joyfully. Burnout is not suffering joyfully.

So, is it a sin to snap at your children all day long? How about only half the day long? Is it a sin to be unavailable to your husband? Is it a sin to find yourself, at the end of the day, surrounded by mountains of laundry and the remnants of an scarcely nutritious meal? Is it a sin to go about your daily round feeling as if you are always on the brink of tears, scarcely ever sharing a smile or an encouraging word? Well, yes, it is. None of those things are God's will for your family. And whatever circumstances of your life are causing you to behave that way need to be pruned. You're burned out and that is sad, scary, place to be. But you don't have to stay there. And God doesn't want you to be there.

Here's a caveat: Burnout is not another phrase for clinical depression. They are two different things, though they can be related and look very much the same. I'm not saying that mental illness is sinful. I'm saying that if you are burned out because you have a shouldered the wrong yoke, then you're not living in God's will. Depression isn't God's will either--He doesn't want you to live in that kind of pain. If you suspect that you are depressed, don't hesitate to talk it over with a doctor. None of the burnout remedies will hurt if you are depressed--indeed they will be healing--but depression requires even more help.

Now, back to burnout. If your heart is heavy and you are wondering why you ever thought it a good idea to stay home with a gaggle of small children and medium sized children and teenaged children all day every day, it's time to take stock and lighten up! Let's take this love-filled Easter season, the time the Church has set aside to celebrate new life, and let's learn a new song.  Let's look at ways to bring the joy back to the home education lifestyle. Let's throw open the windows and let a fresh breeze blow through our homes (okay, it's 20 degrees outside this morning, perhaps we should only do this metaphorically today:-).

Begin with prayer. Lock yourself in the bathroom (nah, not there; they always want to join you there). Lock yourself in the laundry room and just lay it all down. Give God every last exhausting detail. Share every problem, no matter how big or how small. Tell him how overwhelmed you are. Beg him to right the wrongs and to help you see what His will is for you and your family. Ask Him to be your constant companion on this journey back to joy. And then believe that He will be. Because He will. He wants you to find joy in your vocation. He wants you to know love in your vocation.

Sometimes homsechooling mothers give and give and give and then they crash and burn. They look up and say, "I'm serving, I'm giving, I'm loving...I'm utterly depleted." Why? Because we are not called to love from the depths of our being. We are called to love as He loved. We fill ourselves with Him, first, and then that love  overflows. We know that He is God and that He loves us,infinitely.

So, we love our families and our friends and our seemingly unlovable acquaintances. We love them with His love. We've drunk deep from the well of Him and it bubbles up and out. That love is not going to burn out. Instead, it will be like candle flames. Light one candle after another and it just gets lighter. Brighter. Even warmer.

This is not a "school" day. It's Easter Monday. If you planned to hit the books today, don't. Instead, sit with your children and make a "joy list." Ask them to help you remember all the things they love to do with you. Do they like crafts? Which ones? Nature study? Where? Why? Favorite books? Teatime? What to eat or drink? Revel in your successes. Then, take that list, put it on the refrigerator and resolve to do some of those things this week. Not after the regular school is finished. Do them first. Make the "joy" things the priority.

So, the joy list is the first thing today.

The only other planned thing (the rest will come from the joy list) is to take a praise walk. It's important--when you are burned out--to get outside every day.  If Charlotte Mason could take a walk every day in in Lake district of England well into her old age, so can we! Get outside today with your children and revel in the goodness of our Lord's springtime.

Tomorrow we'll look at another layer of burnout recovery. For today, just pray, make that joy list, and take a praise walk.

Burnout isn't a death sentence. It doesn't mean you need to put the children back in school. It doesn't mean you need to stop having children. It doesn't mean you are a failure.

Burnout is an opportunity. It's a chance to sing a new song. Let's sing it together.

The Wedding Meme

1. Where/How did you meet? Freshman year in high school.  His twin sister introduced us.

2. How long have you known each other? 28 years.

3. How long after you met did you start dating? Oh, good grief, this question will totally crack up anyone who knew us then. I have know idea, when we stopped fighting with each other and started "dating!" We're not fighting now; are we dating yet?

4. How long did you date before you were engaged?  We knew each other 7 years.

5. How long was your engagement? 11 months

6. How long have you been married? 19 1/2 years

7. What is your anniversary? September 12, 1987

8. How many people came to your wedding reception?  150

9. What kind of cake did you serve? A butter cake homemade by my mother's dear friend Edith, iced in white with pink roses.

10. Where was your wedding?  at St. Lawrence Catholic Church in Alexandria, VA

11. What did you serve for your meal? I'm embarrassed to admit that I can't remember. It was a sit down lunch and we had peach melba for dessert but I have no idea what was for dinner. I don't think I ate.

12. How many people were in your wedding party? 8 groomsmen, 5 bridesmaids, and a flower girl.

13. Are you still friends with them all? Some of them. Four of them are godparents to our children.

14. Did your spouse cry during the ceremony? He was a grinning fool.

15. Most special moment of your wedding day? Hearing Mike say his vows.

16. Any funny moments? The best man missed the toast because he was out decorating the car. Someone pinch-hit for him. Then, my father toasted for so long that the best man was back and then he toasted. It was a very long pre-dinner toast.

17. Any big disasters? His brothers were late to the wedding because they went to the wrong church.

18. Where did you go on your honeymoon? We didn't have a honeymoon. We spent the day after the wedding at the National Gallery of Art. 

19. How long were you gone? Not.

20. If you were to do your wedding over, what would you change? I'd invite more children and I'd worry less about formalities. I would visit the Blessed Mother and consecrate our marriage to her (our priest told us that wasn't done anymore). I'd have listened to my mother about that stray piece of hair she wanted to fix.  It's out of place in so many pictures;-)

21. What side of the bed do you sleep on?: Currently, I sleep on the left because we're in baby mode and the co-sleeper is there. When I'm pregnant, I sleep on the right.

22. What size is your bed? King.

23. Greatest strength as a couple? Communication.

24. Greatest challenge as a couple? Maintaining closeness despite frequent travel.

25. Who literally pays the bills? He does

26. What is your song? Hmmm...The Stuff That Dreams are Made Of by Carly Simon; and everything on Steven Curtis Chapman's All About Love album

27. What did you dance your first dance to? I Owe You, by Lee Greenwood.

28. Describe your wedding dress: High necked with pearls and alencon lace and a great train that bustled.

29. What kind of flowers did you have at your wedding? white roses and freesia

30. Are your wedding bands engraved? Yes. His says, "Once upon a time & forever." My says, "My life, my love." When I told the jeweler what I wanted for Mike's he told me I couldn't write a novel on a wedding band. Thankfully, he has pretty big fingers and I could!

31. How old were you when you got married? 21