Category Archives: Family

Girl Power

Excuse me, we’d like to chat but sometimes a girl just has to swing.

girls just wanna have fun

grab on tightlet's go!!

We will, however, stop for food. Food and giggling are very important in the Girl Power world.

smile, Sarah, they're looking at us

The big girls just sit around looking beautiful, but the rest of us have things to do.

hannah, rachel and bethany

Pick those flowers faster, girls!!

the girls pose for some pictures

We had friends over for dinner and games this evening. The little girls were busy and a bit difficult to capture on film without quite the blur of action. Rachel, Hannah and Bethany, however, were more than willing to step outside for a few pictures. We are very blessed to have good friends in our life.

Tomorrow we’ll have three extra boys over. Yikes! Don’t you know we’ll have some fun moments to capture on blog while they are here. :)

Kathy
Project 365 – Day 209

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Never Ending Dodge Ball

One of the delightful things about having a houseful of children is that we almost always have enough people to play games. When I was growing up, it was much more difficult to put together a good game with the resources at hand:

Me: “Hey, Mark, how ’bout we go play a game of tag?”
Mark: “Who are we playing with?”
Me: “I figure you … and me … and Posie … ?”
Mark: “Beat it, kid, I’m gonna draw instead.”

The mighty flee before the weak
“The swift cannot flee nor the strong escape.” (Jeremiah 46:6a)

As it turned out, Mark was actually drawing up operational orders for armored-cavalry attacks on defenseless villages, a valuable skill which stood him in good stead in later years. Posie, though she was often willing, was too little to be a credible opponent in any game, six years younger than me and nine years junior to Mark. I usually had to find other ways to amuse myself with her. For the record, there are no witnesses to her wild claim that I put her in the clothes-dryer … although if anyone could use 40 minutes on “medium permanent press,” it would be her. (I love you, Poz!) :)

“In my day,” I tell the children, “Kids had to make do with ghost runners, ghost batters, ghost umpires, and even ghost spectators. I once played a whole game of baseball with just myself and three aluminum cans!”

“Right, Dad,” sneers my son, Weasel. “And I’ll bet you walked seven miles uphill both ways through blinding snow to get to the ballfield, too!”

I was hurt. I’m pretty sure that tale featured a hailstorm, not snow at all! Those kids just don’t pay attention anymore, when I tell my stories. But enough about me. Really.

This week Joshua invented a new game, which he christened “Never Ending Dodge Ball”. Organized dodgeball is one of his favorite games, and he greatly enjoys playing variants of the game at the gym in church or at the YMCA. As often happens, his creative brain came up with a version that can be played in our own backyard.

Rachel closes in for the kill
Rachel (like the Royal Canadian Mounties) can boast: “I always get my man … “

The rules to his never-ending variant are fairly simple:

Anyone who can find a nerf ball can throw it at any other player who is ‘alive’.
You must actually throw the ball at another player, you can’t tag them with it.
If you are hit by a ball (before it hits the ground) and don’t catch it, you’re ‘dead’.
When you are ‘dead’, you have to lie down on the ground (unless you are fussy about bugs, in which case you can squat).
If you have a ball and you are ‘killed’, you must hold the ball up so that anyone who is ‘alive’ can take it from your hand.
As soon as someone is ‘killed’ after you, you are restored to ‘life’ again.
If you happen to still have a ball when you are made ‘alive’, you are free to use it immediately.
If someone is newly ‘alive’, they must be allowed five seconds to get to their feet and run away.
You may never handle more than one ball at a time.
Hits in the head don’t count.

Turn-about is fair play
One moment you’re a predator, the next you’re prey …

Since there are two, three and sometimes four balls in play, the game can become quite interesting, with players chasing one another only to be hit in the back by someone they weren’t watching. Sarah adds a special wrinkle to the game, since she has a special little ball that only she can pick up (she is little, and couldn’t get the other nerf balls before her siblings swooped them away).

Sarah attacks, ruthlessly
It is easy to become distracted in a standoff with another player, only to feel a gentle ‘poink’ in the back as Sarah sneaks up and assassinates you.

The game has several cheerful advantages:

  • It can be played in a fairly small space, and boundaries don’t really matter.
  • Players are rarely ‘dead’ for very long, which is nice for younger players, low on patience.
  • The game seems equally fun for players from 5 to 41.
  • It can be played for a short or long time (or until enough players get hurt and go inside, crying).

A Mexican Standoff goes sour
“Mutually-Assured Destruction” is more than just a political slogan, in this game.

It certainly doesn’t hurt that my children are very kind to one another. They are careful not to run roughshod over the little ones, and they stick scrupulously to the rules. They good-naturedly allow the younger kids to catch them, and they throw the ball gently to avoid injury (well, most of the time). I am always very proud whenever I think about how considerate and loving they are to each other — surely, we are greatly blessed by the redemptive work of the Holy Spirit in the lives of these five rascals.

Rigor mortis sets in
Daniel takes ‘death’ very seriously …

By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another. — John 13:35
Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. — Ephesians 4:2

Daniel pays off a penalty
Of course, injuries happen, and sometimes there is a penalty of five or ten push-ups for unnecessary roughness. Wasn’t it kind of Sarah to count the reps for Daniel?

Altogether, the kids probably played this game for more than an hour, today. David went off to bed with a bounce in his step:

David: “Josh, it sure was fun playing with you.”
Joshua: “I had fun, too.”
David: “Play tomorrow?”
Joshua: “Maybe!”

Project 365, Day 209

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Disappearing blogs

I did post a blog last night. Really, I did. Some of you even got a nice little e-mail notification. Sorry about that. Is there such a thing as blogging false alarms? The gal who cried “Blog!” Thankfully it wasn’t a very brilliant or witty, or even mildly amusing, post. The pictures, often a redeeming factor in the blog, were only average. So actually, you should be thanking me for sparring you the annoyance of a sub par blog.

What happened is I posted the blog to our old server whereas Tim has moved everything to the new server. It all seems a bit science fiction-y to me but I listen attentively and murmur words of encouragement as needed. I’m sure that I am a big help.

It has definitely been a big job to move everything over to this new server. I still don’t understand why the hosting company isn’t more helpful. Let’s see, I pay you MORE money each month and then I do all the work myself? Of course! Silly me.

david's tortured look

David is VERY upset about all of the website trouble we’ve been having. Look at that agony, the boy is suffering.

To add insult to injury, I left my camera at our pastor’s house last night when we were over for dinner. Boy, getting it back from him is probably going to be costly.

“Sure, Kathy, you can have your camera. Which class would you like to teach for VBS? Oh, sorry Kathy, I left your camera at home. You can have it tomorrow, maybe, but first let’s talk about the need we have for nursery workers.”

Shew. Holding a camera for ransom seems low, even for a pastor.

rachel's hat

What would I do without these self-portraits of some of my favorite children?

Of course, being an overachiever in the Project 365 department, I do have a few other pictures to choose from for the odd blog (odd being the number, not content or state of the blogger). On Sunday we had lunch with Tim’s family. During our conversation it came out that Rebecca (15 yrs. next month) has some sensory “issues.” She even went so far as to call my beloved orange chair (Orange Crush) “almost evil.” I guess the pseudo velour fabric isn’t to her liking. So, of course, before she left we had to tie her up and make her sit in it.

That’s the kind of loving family we are.

rebecca is tortured

How can you NOT like this chair? Some people have no taste.

Tim’s brother insists that these kind of odd quirks and eccentricities always accompany a true genius so we’re trying not to be overly concerned about Rebecca.

Of course, when I’m not tying up nieces and nephews and forcing them to face their fears, I occasionally torture them with family pictures.

“You’ll thank me later,” I tell them but so far no one has. Blogging has created a photo monster in me, what can I say. I’ve heard scrapbookers talk about how, after years of scrapping, they begin to compose pictures to fit in their oval and circle cropping stencils. Some even dress their family members in clothing matches their scrapbook paper. By comparison, I’m almost normal. Almost.

three generations

Three generations!

We aren’t wearing matching shirts or even perfectly coordinated colors but I think it works.

the ladies

We needed Tim’s sister and her family to complete the photo shoot.

I apologize for any any e-mail troubles you’ve had with our account or wild blogging goose chases you might have experienced this week. Tim is slowly working through all the steps to ensure everything is working smoothly.

Kathy
Project 365 – Day 203

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The party isn’t over yet

My theory is: as long as there is another present to be opened, then it’s still your birthday. My brother Thom’s birthday is on the 31st of July, so growing up there was a very definite end to my birthday celebrations. He did his best to arrive on the scene at the very end of July, but still, he was constantly encroaching on my birthday. These days, with Thom safely miles away, I am free to claim the entire month of July for my birthday.

Of course, I share one or two days with Sarah.

After all, I’m not greedy.

pmge's

Timothy, Elizabeth and Mark are obviously also very excited about my birthday.

In all fairness, Sarah was the one who had a whole basket full of presents left to open. The week of camp was busy and wet, wet, wet. Did I already mention how it rained and rained every day but one? I don’t want to complain, but the middle of July is NOT the time it should be raining. Even in western Washington. Aren’t there rules about this sort of thing? Something about rain and birthdays and standards of summer weather? Somehow there wasn’t ever time to open the rest of the birthday presents. No doubt it was because of the rain.

Today we all gathered for one last party celebration. Yes, it was raining. Sarah and I did our best to ignore the lousy weather and concentrate on more important things, like presents and being spoiled rotten.

look at that birthday girl

On Tuesday, the day after her birthday, Sarah told me, “I miss being four.”

When we got home this evening, there was a huge box on the porch addressed to me. More presents? See how a birthday can be stretched out to last and last.

And there are still cards to open on the mantle.

Life is good.

Now if it would just stop raining.

Kathy
Project 365 – Day 202

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The Effective Prayer of Righteous Men

Last Monday night, Kathy attended a women’s Bible study at our church. I always like to encourage her to make the most of these kind of opportunities, although it does cut short the time we have together in the evening. As she rushed out the door, I settled down to play my latest favorite computer game, Port Royale 2.

Alas, it was not to be. First Daniel, then Rachel came to my negative attention for various infractions. I spent the bulk of the evening talking with them in turn, rebuking and correcting their foolishness and sin. I was very discouraged by the experience, and I assume that they were as well. It seemed like a classic lose/lose situation, where I lost time and energy and they didn’t gain from my long lecture, but instead our relationship was further strained.

Daniel at the beach

On Monday I helped Rachel to make smoothies for some roofers across the street. She has been so eager to earn money for the camp she hopes to attend in August, and I wanted to help her. We made the blends and constructed a ‘Donations’ box for her to carry, and I sent her off with a brother to guard her. She came back elated with $7.50 in donations, in spite of the earlier visit of the high-priced ice cream truck.

I suggested that on Tuesday she should beat the ice cream vendor out, and recommended that she make the smoothies right after lunch and offer them to the workers in the early afternoon. When I got home from work, I asked her how much she earned from donations, and she told me they hadn’t yet made them. I was non-plused — why hadn’t she followed my recommendation?

I asked her, perhaps a bit more critically than I intended: “Why didn’t you make the blends early, as I suggested?”

Rachel visibly deflated, as I continued to apply my critical skills. “I thought I made that really clear. Don’t you want to earn money for camp?” She didn’t really have an answer, and I never did find out why she didn’t make the smoothies earlier in the day, except that Kathy said they had been busy with school. I misapplied my analytical skills to a situation that didn’t really call for anything except encouragement.

Sarah and her favorite shower
At the cottage on the shores of Lake Michigan, Sarah and her cousin often hogged this outside shower, sometimes for 30 minutes or more.

Sometimes Daniel and Rachel are a little afraid of me. I have a very low tolerance for sin (at least in other people), and I am very likely to notice imperfection. As a programmer, I get paid all day long to find things that are wrong or poorly designed, and fix them. Nobody hires a programmer to come in and tell them what lovely systems they have, or how nicely they are getting the job done! All of my kids are sensitive to my disapproval, to varying degrees … sometimes they avoid me for fear that I will say something critical about their behavior.

At home, there doesn’t seem to be a major need for a programmer. I spent some time reflecting, how would I like it if God mostly paid attention to my failures and faults, and only rarely complimented me or showed me His smile?

On Tuesday evening, I had a chance to pray with our pastor and most of the elders. I asked them to pray for me and for my relationship with Rachel and Daniel, which they very kindly did. On Wednesday morning, I met with my men’s accountability and prayer group, and asked for prayer about the same thing. They advised and prayed for me so thoroughly and sweetly that I came away determined to make a change in the way I relate to my children. As one of them pointed out, perhaps the biggest change needs to be made in the way I relate to my kids.

Daniel flees impending doom
Knowing when to run is an important survival skill.

Thursday night I gathered the three older kids and talked to them about how I want to change. I explained that I plan to give them more responsibility and autonomy in their lives and that they would need to learn to answer to God directly, instead of always going through me. I told them that I was sorry I was so critical, and that I would try to keep my mouth shut, especially about the little things. I shared with them my plan to write complimentary e-mails to them and I told them how proud I was of them. I told them I was going to try not to ‘sweat the small stuff’. It was a very pleasant, cheerful time, and they listened closely, if a bit skeptically.

Rachel survives the waves
Rachel is pretty wise, actually, and knows when to wear a life jacket.

After I sent Daniel up to bed, an uproar began, and I walked to the foot of the stairs to investigate. Using my gentlest, kindest and most reasonable voice, I told Daniel to get back to brushing his teeth and getting into his pajamas, since he was in Rachel’s room and wasn’t obeying the instruction he had received (to go to bed).

Daniel immediately became sulky and resentful, and (after I went upstairs and tried unsuccessfully to reason with him) I gave up and went back down to talk with Kathy. I was very discouraged and shared my frustrations at some considerable length, while Kathy listened sympathetically.

After about five minutes of this, Kathy pointed out that by allowing myself to be discouraged, I was actively cooperating with Satan’s plan, and listening to his lies. Kathy and I amused each other for several minutes by swapping the lies that Satan wanted us to believe:

  • It’ll never work. You can’t change the way you relate to your kids.
  • See? This is why you shouldn’t bother — even when you make a good effort, Daniel doesn’t respond properly.
  • You should just stick with harsh justice. If he turns his back on you and on God the day he turns 18, that’s his problem — your hands will be clean.
  • The prayers of all those elders and other men don’t change anything — just forget about it.
  • God doesn’t have the power to intervene in this situation, or He doesn’t care.
  • The kids will never learn, you’re just wasting your time.
  • Surely you have more important things to do?

About ten minutes later Daniel came down the stairs and apologized for his surly attitude. He had picked out a little wooden submarine that he had made and wrote “To Daddy, from Daniel” on it, with this cool invisible ink pen he has. He gave the boat to me to show he wanted to be ‘right’ with me and was sincere in asking forgiveness.

King of the Tube

I hugged him and accepted the submarine and thanked him for it. I told him I forgave him and that it was hard for me to know what was small and what was not, and which things to overlook, but that I was still committed to keep trying. He went to bed happy and cheerful.

I find myself stunned by the speed of his turnaround, and by the obvious effectiveness (efficaciousness?) of the prayer of these righteous men. It made me wonder, how often have I given up on something just moments before God is bringing about a change?

One of the parenting resources we have used over the years has been Gary & Anne Marie Ezzo’s Growing Kids God’s Way. Foundational to the GKGW philosophy is the idea that in the early years (0-5) parenting is mostly authoritarian, as in, “You do what I say because I say so.” As your children begin to mature (6-11), you begin sharing basic principles (respect for things, respect for others, respect for God) and backing them up with Biblical teaching. This can be summarized: “You do what I say because it is right.” Once your children enter adolescence (12-17), you move to a coaching relationship wherein the child is given more autonomy and allowed to make decisions (and mistakes) under your advice and direction, but without you necessarily standing over them. The metaphor used for this stage is that of a high-school ballgame — as the coach, you are on the sidelines, and it is the child who actually plays the game. You still have access to the child during half-time and in practice sessions, but there is a very real sense in which they are the one playing the game. “You do what is right because of your relationship with God and with me,” is one way to put it. (There is a lot more to the GKGW material, and I may not have summarized it very well, but, hey, that’s one part of it that stuck with me.)

Sarah on the steps

I don’t have a lot of trouble with the authoritarian model, and my spiritual gift as a teacher comes in very handy during the middle years. Moving to the coaching stage is the one that seems very difficult to me, especially if there is any real possibility that my children will make mistakes. I love my sons and daughters dearly, and I don’t want them to experience the consequences of their sin or foolishness. But if I continue to stand over them and force them to do what is right, they’ll miss out on chances to develop moral and spiritual muscles. I want them to be prepared to stand against temptation of all kinds when they are out on their own, and I don’t want to provoke them into rebellion by failing to give them the appropriate autonomy for their age and maturity.

Joshua is taken down by a wave
Nor do I want my children crushed by the surf of life.

This parenting stuff is hard, some times. I’ll let you know if I get it all figured out. :)

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