Stay-at-home moms – a supporting role, not an enabler.

Today one of my daughters texted me from school to let me know that she’d left her piano music at home.  Since she drives straight to her lesson after school, this presented a problem.  

She had done the exact same thing two weeks ago.  Lucky for her, I had some errands to run in the vicinity so I grabbed her music and dropped it off on her piano teacher’s doorstep.

Because I had done that, my daughter inevitably believed that surely I could do the same this time.  And, to be honest, I probably could have without too much sacrifice.  

However, I declined for two reasons:

  1.  She needed to pay some of the price of having forgotten her music for the second time in a month.  If I’d swooped in and saved the day (again), she wouldn’t feel the inconvenience of having forgotten and would probably just forget again.
  2. I want her to understand that stay-at-home parents are people too and that one cannot assume that I am available at her beck and call.

That last one is tricky.  I mean, after all, choosing to stay home to raise my children means that I AM mostly available to support them in any manner of things – from carpooling to volunteering in their schools, to attending sporting events and concerts, to welcoming them home from school, to helping them with homework, and so on.

But even though, for the most part, I CAN help her, I have to discern when helping is actually enabling.

Sometimes it takes pretending I have a full-time job away from home to back away a bit and let my kids suffer.  And what really stinks about that is that they KNOW I could do it but I am choosing not to.  Which inevitably makes me out to be a mean mom.

So be it.  I’ve been at this parenting gig long enough that I’m practically made of steel.  Today I told my beloved child that I would not be in the neighborhood to drop off her piano music.  But I would be making a run to the gas station that was halfway between her school and home.  She could meet me there during her lunch hour to collect the goods.

I’m sure it was a bummer to miss out on the one time during school that she actually gets to hang out with friends.  But she came.  And is hopefully better for it.

March 2021 Primary Singing Time

It’s hard to believe it has been almost a full year since we last met together for singing time at church!  I miss meeting together, but I am a huge fan of home-centered learning.  Especially when it comes to the gospel.  The songs we sing in Primary can be sung just as easily at home, and we don’t really even need fancy methods for learning them (although they can help!) 

Parents: It’s important to remember that, while it may feel silly to sing these songs over and over, repetition is how children learn.  They also learn music by experiencing it – which is why I like to provide a few ideas for how to practice primary songs in new ways.  It may seem like a distraction and that the kids are just having fun, but since children learn by having fun, you can bet they are absorbing the music and words (especially if you do it more than once or twice).  In time, the meaning of the words will also sink deep into their souls and build their testimonies of eternal truths.

Here are the three suggested songs for March 2021(plus ways to introduce them to your children):

  1. The Church of Jesus Christ  Have you noticed how many times this song says the word “I”?  Print out this spinner activity on cardstock, attach a spinner (like this one you can buy on amazon) and follow the directions.  Play as many times as you want to!  You’ll have the song memorized before you know it.  You can also watch this sing-along video for some extra practice.
  2. When I am Baptized  Do you remember last year when we used ribbon wands as we sang this song?  You can try it again at home by making your own ribbon wand, or by using a scarf, or a bandana, or by using a stick(or even your hand).  Watch this instructional video on how to sing this song with ribbon wands (Borrowed from Camille’s Primary Ideas).  
  3. When He Comes Again  Cut on the dotted lines of this printable and have your kids match the words of the song to the corresponding picture as they listen to it.  Then sing the song together.  You can also watch this sing-along video.

Home-centered primary singing time for the win.

A big helping of drudgery with bit of joy on the side.

When I first got married, I was a semester away from graduating college. During our engagement, I left my job at a local literacy center to work for a local software company, a job that yielded more income but significantly less satisfaction.
Though early married life presented its fair share of bliss, life overall was somewhat less than ideal. Since Tim still had two years left to complete his engineering degree, that left me to fulfill the role of “breadwinner”. But, as you might imagine, jobs for “almost graduates” were not particularly lucrative. Or fun, for that matter.
Add to that the fact that I came home from work on a daily basis to discover that my husband’s video game hobby was more like a habit-a fact that had not been adequately revealed to me during our courtship.
Life was somewhat monotonous. Indeed, those first few months of matrimony required adjustment.
In talking with an old friend from my early college years over the phone, I described what most of my life consisted of. She caught my hint of dissatisfaction and said, ” Susie, you have too much talent to waste it cleaning dirty toilets and dish rags.”
I immediately felt defensive. I hadn’t meant to complain. But my reality at the time was a huge helping of drudgery with a little joy on the side. And that somehow came across as dissatisfaction.
In our consumer and entertainment culture, many have grown accustomed to getting as much out of life as they possibly can. We chase lucrative careers, picture perfect families, endless entertainment, and adventures across the globe.
And why shouldn’t we? The world is literally at our fingertips. The American Dream is alive and well and our thriving economy facilitates our insatiable appetites for consumption.
And yet attaining all the world has to offer has not made us much happier. In fact, statistically-speaking, the correlation between happiness and wealth levels off at an annual income of $75K. (If one believes that happiness is measurable, anyway).
The truth is, I think happiness is often bred from drudgery. I don’t mind digging in and shoveling a bit of figurative manure because it makes the harvest that much more satisfying.
Why are we so afraid of things going wrong?
One of my daughters is a toxic perfectionist. She completely shuts down when she falls short of expectations. On everything. It’s exasperating to watch.
I wonder if she is partly the product of a world addicted to Tik Tok and Instagram. She doesn’t have either of those, but one has to wonder at how the culture is being shaped by those platforms.
Why do we think endless entertainment is the key to happiness? It certainly doesn’t build up our resilience to challenges in life.
If there’s anything this pandemic has taught me, it’s that there is joy to be found in literally any circumstance. AND, that one can be miserable and happy at the exact same time.
Except when I drag my kids out for a walk in the dead of winter and they spend the entire time whining about how cold it is and how tired they are.
There is no happiness in that. Whatsoever.

A birthright or a mess of pottage?

I mean, which one would you rather have? An inheritance in Israel or a bowl of soup? The answer seems obvious, right?

In the Old Testament, the story of Jacob and Esau always puzzled me. I mean, the idea that the eldest son traded his birthright for a measly bowl of soup? Incredulous.

Honestly, how hungry (and short-sighted) would one have to be to sacrifice his entire inheritance to satisfy an appetite? It just made no sense.

Thousands of years later we live in a digital age where our appetites for pretty much anything (good or bad) can be satisfied with the click of a button.

We decry philosophies that involve any sort of denial of one’s self, proclaiming that “living authentically” is the be all and end all to our existence.

But what if what we think of as “authenticity” is contrary to our divine nature and birthright? What if delaying gratification allows us to achieve an inheritance in the afterlife? I personally believe it will.

What can we liken in our lives to Esau’s irresistible mess of pottage? What appetites are we satisfying today that compromise our ability to achieve all that our heavenly parents have and want to give us?

I can remember going skiing as a teenager and ending up on the lift seated next to a total stranger. We struck up a conversation and discovered that we’d both grown up in the same religion. He’d decided as a teenager that Sundays constituted valuable skiing time and eventually quit going to church in favor of spending the Sabbath day “in nature”, so to speak. He traded God for skiing. Could that be a mess of pottage, of sorts?

Or how about my grandparents, who decided that rather than choose the faith of their ancestors they wanted to spend most of their days on the golf course. They were good people. But in my mind, they had traded something eternal for something very temporary.

Those are fairly trivial. But a so-called “mess of pottage” can be anything but. What about a person whose sexual orientation doesn’t seem to mesh well with God’s commandments? One who longs for a fulfilling relationship but who has been taught that the bounds the Lord has set means that marriage will remain a distant (if not unattainable) reality, if he/she wants to keep the commandments, that is.

That’s super rough. Life can seem long and hopeless under those circumstances. I don’t blame anyone who chooses fulfillment in this life over the promises of the next when their reality is homosexuality.

And yet, when this life is over and those promises are fulfilled, might it seem silly that we chose the bowl of soup over eternal glory? Maybe. It all comes down to faith and patience, right?

I don’t have all the answers.

The good news is, we have a lot of time to figure it out. Esau may have sacrificed his birthright, but it’s not as if he lost everything. Twenty years later found Esau managing his own property, reconciling with his brother Jacob, and burying his father.

He was still blessed, despite having lost the birthright.

Isn’t that beautifully merciful and just at the same time?

I believe in a God who exacts standards of behavior in order to inherit certain blessings. I also believe that one does not have to be perfect to inherit some measure of those blessings.

Our inheritance will be in direct proportion to our level of commitment of keeping our covenants with him.

I personally hope I can keep my eye on the prize. Though the sacrifices I make to be true to my eternal covenants are at times exhausting, the payout is too great. And thankfully, I get glimpses of eternity often to remind me that living the gospel benefits me not just in the next life but today.

A mess of pottage might be just what we want in the moment. But my faith rests in the promise that my birthright is far better than a bowl of lentil soup.

February 2021 Primary Singing Time

In January during our virtual singing time, we learned the first verse of Joseph Smith’s First Prayer by using our senses.  Could you sense what it was like in that grove of trees?

During the month of February, we are going to focus on the second verse of Joseph Smith’s First Prayer by understanding some of the emotions Joseph Smith experienced as he knelt to pray.  Use this emoji worksheet to better understand all the feelings young Joseph had at the time.  It will help you learn the words to the second verse.

The following are the suggested songs for Primary in February 2021:

  1.  I Want to Be a Missionary Now   As they strive to teach the gospel, most full-time missionaries will spend a lot of time walking.  Use these directional signs to walk in place while you’re learning the words to this song.
  2. The Priesthood is Restored  Play the game “Last Singer Standing” as you learn the words to this short song.  You may be short on breath while you hold out the notes.  
  3. I Stand All Amazed   Sing along to the words as you watch this sing-along video.  Another beautiful version of this song can be found here.

Happy learning!

My father dwelt in a tent.

I recently completed and restarted my study of the Book of Mormon. Sometimes it feels a little like Groundhog Day, as if there is little possibility I could still glean new insight or wisdom, considering that I am reading the exact same book for the umpteenth time.

And yet, heeding the prophet’s call to study it again and again, I turned right back around to 1 Nephi and started reading.

When I was a teenager and someone would ask me which scripture verse was my favorite, if I was in a snarky mood, I’d respond with “And my father dwelt in a tent.” I was kidding, of course, but as I have matured and gained insight, I’ve started to wonder at why Nephi made mention of this fact not just once, but several times in his record.

Specifically, he notes on three separate occasions: “Now all these things were said and done as my father dwelt in a tent in the valley of Lemuel.”

With a limited amount of space on which to write, and the fact that it was labor-intensive, why did Nephi repeat himself over such a seemingly trivial thing? Well, for starters, he’s simply giving a point of reference, so we know when and where certain events occurred.

I’m sure the scholars could write an entire book about it, but I’ll just add my humble musings on the matter. Take a look at the stories that precede Nephi’s references to their tent-dwelling in 1 Nephi 9, 1 Nephi 10, and 1 Nephi 16.

Each of these chapters contains a vision or prophecy. An occasion where the heavens were opened and Lehi (or Nephi, as the case may be) received revelation from God. Is it any coincidence that such revelations came as they “dwelt in a tent”? I think not.

Lehi was a very wealthy man in Jerusalem. Surely the demands of a large family and estate overwhelmed him and his wife Sariah at times. They lived there prior to Babylonian captivity, when Jerusalem’s inhabitants were ripening in iniquity.

Their means probably put them in social circles where there was pressure to keep up with the Joneses, so to speak. Maybe Sariah shuttled her children to and from various activities and a frenzied pace became the norm. Perhaps she worried about her kids’ friends and the influence that a privileged life was having on their commitment to the important things in life.

It’s possible that family time was slipping away from them and that a study of the word of God took a back seat to any number of activities that pulled them in different directions. (I don’t pretend to know what those are, but I do know that a life of entertainment and hobby is not uncommon among families whose finances are secure. Surely, that applied anciently, as well.)

In any case, Lehi and Sariah and their family left it all behind to “dwell in a tent” in the wilderness. Family time was the only time now. Social engagements canceled for good. Hobbies? Who has time for those when you have to find your own food?

In this simplified existence, I’m sure that quiet time with God became more prevalent, not to mention, necessary. Removing all distraction was a gift to Lehi and his family, as they learned to navigate life with the bare minimum, not knowing where they should go or what they should do.

I can’t help but see some parallels between this experience and the 2020 pandemic. Keeping up with a family of seven before COVID hit our country was utterly exhausting. I lived life in maintenance mode, moving from one event/project to the next.

Sure, we studied the gospel regularly in our home, but sometimes only half-heartedly or in a rush to wrap it up to get kids here or there or because they had homework to complete. Half the time we were missing at least one family member.

My personal quiet time of reflection came at a great cost as I had to wake ridiculously early to fit in any sort of scripture study. I fell asleep often because my body couldn’t keep up with the pace of family life.

As the pandemic hit, we figuratively left behind Jerusalem with only the necessary provisions (toilet paper included). Our lifestyle instantly simplified, we found joy in our family relationships, in simple pleasures, in studying the gospel with greater purpose.

Without all the distraction, I have found I am more in tune with my children’s needs. I have more energy to read up on how to navigate the troubles they experience, and more time to commune with the One who has all the answers.

Aside from a few camping trips we took this summer, we have not left everything behind to dwell in a tent. But, by stripping away much of our pre-pandemic baggage, we’ve discovered a closeness to God and one another that I dare say took a back seat for far too long.

Primary Singing Time – January 2021

Here are a few ways to learn the three suggested songs for Primary children in January 2021:

Joseph Smith’s First Prayer – In addition to your regular Come, Follow Me study in Joseph Smith History, use this song to teach your children the story of the First Vision.  Here’s a “storybook” to help them learn the words.  (Cut along the horizontal dotted lines and fold along the vertical dotted lines to assemble).  They can refer to it while you play the music.

(Original idea found at Primary Singing Time Ideas)

You can also watch this sing-along video for extra practice.

Search, Ponder and Pray – Print out this worksheet and follow the instructions for a fun way of teaching your children this song.  You can access the words, vocals, and music here.

(Modified from an activity found at Camille’s Primary Ideas).

Family History, I am Doing it – Junior Primary kids can become familiar with this song by listening to it (on repeat, if necessary) as they color this family tree worksheet.  For an extra challenge(I’m talking to you, Senior Primary kids), see how well they can complete a four-generation chart found here.  (While listening to and learning the song, of course).

We didn’t need that bucket anyway.

In mid-September, Jack tagged along to Rachel and Eve’s soccer practice. We managed to finagle getting them both on the same team and now instead of practices every single day of the week and two games each Saturday, we’ve consolidated it down to two practices and a single game.

All my ducks in a row.

The first practice I got to sit and enjoy an hour and a half on a cool fall evening chatting it up with the other parents while the girls kicked the ball around.

So when I brought Jack to the following practice, I had high hopes of lounging in my camping chair once again, shooting the breeze, while he happily played on the playground.

Except that’s not how it turned out. At all.

Within fifteen minutes of sitting down, Jack asked to go to the bathroom. It was number two. We were at an elementary school. That was closed. Closest bathroom was a 5 minute drive to the grocery store. So that’s where we headed.

I rushed into the store, carrying him all the while and made a beeline for the restroom at the back. Lucky for me, I chose the aisle housing the diapers and wipes, grabbing a package of the latter on the way.

We cleaned him up, discarding his soiled underpants, purchased the opened package of wipes, and headed back to the playground.

Fifteen minutes later, Jack informed me that he had to go to the bathroom again. Number two. Again. With his pair of underwear now missing, I knew we had not the time to run to use the grocery store restroom again.

So we did the next best thing. I pulled a sand bucket that, by some luck we were still storing in the trunk for our numerous trips to the lake and asked him if he would like to use it as a makeshift toilet. He did not even hesitate.

I took a picture, which I refrain to share because, while I don’t think Jack will mind that I blogged about this age-appropriate experience in his life when he reads it years in the future, he might resent my posting visual proof of the encounter.

It’s pretty cute, I do have to say, though.

I tossed the bucket and its contents in a nearby dumpster and we headed back to the playground.

Fifteen minutes later. (You can guess what I’m going to say). He has to go AGAIN! How backed up WAS this kid anyway! He non-chalantly asks to use the bucket. To which I inform him that I chucked it and start pulling my hair out at my limited options.

We go back to the car, I open the hatchback, dig through the trunk, and grab a grocery sack of all things to store his third bowel movement in an hour. Man, I was grateful I’d bought those wipes.

Within minutes the girls returned to the car from their soccer practice. Jack had very little of the anticipated playground time under his belt and I sustained more trauma than I had anticipated for a beautiful September evening.

The frozen yogurt run I’d promised the girls was abruptly canceled in favor of a hurried and stinky drive back home to avoid yet another blowout.

After seventeen years of this, you’d think this would be a walk in the park. In fact, the blog posts from when my girls were this age are replete with this sort of anecdote.

To the contrary, after seventeen years of potty accidents and outings gone wrong, I’m so over it. Cute as Jack is, I’m counting down the days until stuff like this is a distant memory.

The under appreciated robot vacuum.

For my birthday in April, Tim bought me a robot vacuum. I chuckled a bit, as I’ve had other items on my wish list for far longer but the techie in him must have made that gadget jump out at him because that was his first pick.

We named him “Mo” and considered him our “quarantine pet” (because there was no way in H we were going out to buy a puppy). The fact that Mo was Tim’s top pick for my birthday present was a bonus because he tackled all the setup and programming of our new addition.

And what a great addition Mo has been. He runs around the house at 3 o’clock every morning dusting up the mess beneath our couches that in our pre-Mo years only got cleaned up once every month at best because it requires moving furniture.

Another bonus: I only have to sweep the kitchen once a day.

Final bonus: my kids actually pitch in to pick their stuff off the floor at the end of each night, motivated by the horrifying possibility that Mo might eat up their precious earbuds.

Best quarantine pet ever.

We’ve settled in with our cleaner floors and have quite forgotten what life was like before Mo.

In other words, we’ve begun to take him for granted.

So, of course, in Mo’s indignation at being under appreciated, he starts malfunctioning. Each morning for the past week, he has failed to make it back to his docking station.

Not because he got tangled up in a cord somewhere, or stuck under a piece of furniture. Nope, the lazy bum ends up smack dab in the middle of the floor, as if he’s forgotten his purpose in life.

And suddenly I’m stepping all over crumbs on my kitchen floor. I’m painfully aware of the dust that’s collecting under my couch. I’m considering adding vacuuming back to the kids chore rotation, because how else will we keep the downstairs carpets clean?

Mo might as well have been named “Mom”. How much of what I do gets taken for granted day in and day out? Heck, I’ve been at it for so long that I’m confident no one even knows what I do anymore, let alone wonders how they would do without it all?

Things just “magically” happen around here.

Most of the time it’s not a big deal. Until I catch the kids complaining about my less-desirable traits and have to remind them how awesome I am. Or until I notice them sitting around on their butts and feel inclined to invite them to pitch in. That usually helps them develop a deeper sense of gratitude for the things that I do on a daily basis.

No, I’m not one to be a martyr.

I also know that gratitude does not just bless the giver, but the receiver. So, since I am often on the receiving end as well, this little experience with Mo reminds me to appreciate all the small acts of service from which I benefit.

Turns out picking crumbs up off the floor is kind of a big deal. Who knew?

Nine kids and me-a homeschool co-op tale.

Yesterday I hosted our first homeschool co-op of the academic year. There are four families and nine kids between us, aged 4-11. Planning a 3-hour lesson/event to accommodate such a wide range of ages presented some challenges, understandably.

I’m finding I have to rewrite my internal script, though. Although grouping kids by age is particularly effective for core subjects like math and language arts, it isn’t necessary for ALL subjects.

We parents decided that this co-op would focus primarily on enrichment and fun. Science, music, physical education, art, etc. We each teach the core subjects as families Monday-Thursday so we can have fun on Fridays.

This Friday “fun” day I taught “All About Water”. I kicked it off with a demonstration on clouds/precipitation, another on solubility and wrapped it up with a floating “m” experiment.

Then we split into pairs-an older kid with a younger kid-and did rotation stations.

One station required the kids to play music on glass vases. I gave them colored patterns to play and they had to guess which nursery rhyme it was. It was a hit.

Here are the worksheets I created to facilitate the activity:

Nursery-Rhymes-with-Water-and-Answer-KeyDownload
Water-Music-Write-your-own-songDownload

At a second station, I taught them various watercolor techniques-crayon resist, salt technique, oil/water painting, and plastic wrap press.

A third station hosted a huge bin of water beads where they could search for the alphabet or complete a measuring activity. But mostly they just messed around with them. A pretty satisfying experience in and of itself, apparently.

The final station was a sink or float experiment. Pretty self-explanatory.

I printed out these labels with a column each for “sink” and “float”. Then the kids got to attach them to the correct column.

Sink-or-Float-SignsDownload

After that we broke for snacks and free play time while I blew up a bunch of water balloons for the grand finale-squirt gun races, a frozen t-shirt relay, and water balloon baseball.

I was lucky the weather cooperated-it shaped up to be crazy hot and the water play was a welcome reprieve. The whole experience probably appeared chaotic from a classroom standpoint but man it was fun.

Those kiddos were so stinkin’ glad to get together-which is something they would not be getting at public school anytime soon, sadly. I feel for everyone who is miffed about the woes of virtual learning and COVID in general, but me? I’m living it up on the homeschool front.