Of course as soon as I tap out the title, my sour patch kid needs to test a limit. Thanks to a podcast I listened to recently I don’t feel like I need to make sure he feels sorry for his disobedience, just give the consequence, prompt the words (I’m sorry is all I can ever get out of him), and move on.

Of course before I can elaborate on that thought, I hear an ominous THUD and my phlegmatic boy wail. He hit his head on the table. Kisses made it all better, and now I am sitting with him as he builds and rebuilds the same 12 magnatiles.

It’s quiet for a moment.

My big Littlefoot has discovered that the Bible he picked up has numbered pages. I can imagine him now in the other room flipping through the pages, marveling at how many.

And now my sour patch kid walks up to me exclaiming, “Mama, look!” and tries to yo-yo… then ends up spinning around with the yo-yo. And tells me as if I need this sober warning, “Mama if you’re dizzy, don’t try to go down stairs. You’ll end up hurting yourself. Like this.” Oh boy.

Now the little one wants to go play with his brothers. Now he doesn’t.

Anyway.

I feel this heaviness lately even as I also am experiencing the freedom of trusting Christ in a way I have only previously imagined. The heaviness is nothing new. It is what the world rushes to diagnose, treat, prevent. Without the truth of Christ, that heaviness is lethal. When I say I wouldn’t be alive without Christ I mean literally, physically.

Snack time, again. Strawberries.

So this heaviness isn’t new, but it is. This is a soberness, and not like those momentary splashes of cold water. This is more like being wide awake for hours in the night… and where I used to ache for sleep, I find myself more curious.

We are outside now… No chores or schoolwork done yet, unless you count a few seconds explaining what a political map is. Sometimes I think the real work here is learning how to interact with people. I haven’t been counting, but offhand I would say we’ve had at least a dozen lessons in considering one another more important than yourself, humility, expressing concern, speaking respectfully, extending compassion and forgiveness. And that’s just on my end. Haha! Kidding… sorta.

And now a tantrum because I declined to carry something for the little one. More like a momentary outburst. He’s probably already fine and I’m still trying to gather together the thoughts that got scattered.

Well, the tantrum ended up being some extra neediness. And then we started working on a little organization project, which morphed into digging unnecessary holes in the yard. Life.

And that (life) is what I want for us, but I don’t want to neglect the discipline of learning, practicing, hard work that yields results.

My question is essentially this: how can I guide my children down a path that I don’t really know, and how can I learn it? I am thankful that I am not unlearning a ton of societal nonsense, as peer pressure was not something I really witnessed in those I admired nor was it fostered in me. But due to not caring about keeping up with the Joneses, I never had the motivation most have for learning hard work, organizational habits, and maintaining friendships. Now that I want to learn these things, I am well past the age where I have mentors available to me. I’m not saying I can’t learn — not at all.

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Another long intermission… food, schoolwork, Minecraft, some more reading time for me… and a discovery of what my Littlefoot was doing so quietly in the basement. I am neither shocked, nor dismayed, to discover that it is something that he would not have done if I had been down there supervising. A cleanup project for later.

We are outside again and this time the older ones are climbing a tree. The little one is jumping on the trampoline after many, many requests to go play inside.

So what I’m getting at I guess is just, I wonder if I am a good example for them and I know that I could be a better example. And I know that all the things that I want to get better at are things most people figure out in their teens. But I would be remiss if I didn’t also note that I recognize, I’m not all failings and flaws. While most teens were consumed with spending hours looking their best and impressing their friends, I spent hours reading. My vocabulary is being passed down to these kids. My dialectic skills for sure come in handy as I do not simply settle for what has always been done nor hasty reasoning for choices as small as whether or not we should have ice cream for a snack or as big as whether or not to homeschool.

Just writing that out reminds me that I need to not despise my talents simply because they are familiar. I can learn what I need to learn. I just need to stay humble and focused. Focus comes easily for me. Humility (not leaning on my own understanding), not so much.

Anywho, the day is winding down and dinner won’t make itself. The younger kids are back in now, watching an animated show based on Beatrix Potter’s stories. My big Littlefoot has finally convinced Love to play a “grownup” video game with him. Perfect window for dinner-making.

Time to post and go.

*Alternate Title: Wherein Foundmercy accidentally writes a day-in-the-life post