A Thanksgiving to God for His House by Robert Herrick

Lord, Thou hast given me a cell 
Wherein to dwell; 
An little house, whose humble roof 
Is weather-proof; 
Under the spars of which I lie 
Both soft and dry; 
Where Thou my chamber for to ward 
Hast set a guard 
Of harmless thoughts, to watch and keep 
Me, while I sleep. 
Low is my porch as is my fate, 
Both void of state;
And yet the threshold of my door 
Is worn by'th' poor, 
Who thither come, and freely get 
Good words, or meat; 
Like as my parlour, so my hall 
And kitchen's small; 
A little butterie and therein 
A little bin, 
Which keeps my little loaf of bread 
Unchipp'd, unflay'd; 
Some brittle sticks of thorn or briar 
Make me a fire, 
Close by whose living coal I sit, 
And glow like it. 
Lord, I confess too, when I dine, 
The pulse is Thine,
And all those other bits that be 
There plac'd by Thee; 
The worts, the purslain, and the mess 
Of water-cress, 
Which of Thy kindness Thou hast sent; 
And my content 
Makes those, and my beloved beet, 
To be more sweet. 
'Tis Thou that crown'st my glitt'ring hearth 
With guiltless mirth; 
And giv'st me wassail bowls to drink, 
Spic'd to the brink. 
Lord, 'tis Thy plenty-dropping hand 
That soils my land; 
And giv'st me, for my bushel sown, 
Twice ten for one; 
Thou mak'st my teeming hen to lay 
Her egg each day; 
Besides my healthful ewes to bear 
Me twins each year; 
The while the conduits of my kine 
Run cream (for wine.) 
All these, and better Thou dost send 
Me, to this end, 
That I should render, for my part, 
A thankful heart, 
Which, fir'd with incense, I resign 
As wholly Thine; 
But the acceptance, that must be, 
My Christ, by Thee.

P.S. 

C.'s favorite part of Thanksgiving was chewing on the bones.  Who knew cartilage could be so tasty???  And Sunflower started crawling two days ago.  We're overjoyed at her great accomplishment...and with how much more complicated life is now for us! :)

What am I most thankful for this year?

The opportunity to be a home maker.

I heard an NPR interview about Michelle Obama's decision to dedicate the first year in office to helping her daughters transition.  She put her profession on hold, and will join the ranks with the rest of us homemakers.  Four women were on the interview panel, and they all had very opposing opinions about this decision.  One woman went so far to say that her decision was a disgrace to her race.  "Black women work," she said.  "Staying at home with children is something that white women do."

That may be how it has been: minorities in the workplace and white women at home, but I don't believe it was by choice in the majority of the cases.  And given the opportunity, I'm sure many minority women would seize the opportunity to WORK at home.  Thankfully, our nation's socio-economic canvas is being painted with a variety of colors in the background and foreground now, and I don't think staying at home is a race issue; it's an economic one.

It's also a personality issue.  When I think of twenty of my closest friends, of a mix of races, who have higher ed. degrees, a career, and are in a position to not HAVE to work, I'm one of very few who have chosen to stay home.  Several tried it for an extended period after their children were born, but somewhere they lost part of themselves in it, didn't gain excessive purpose through it. 

They went back to their careers and took some heat for it by those who believe women should always stay home.  I stayed home and haven taken some heat for "not using my gifts and contributing them to the world."  In my view, and that's really the only one that matters here since it's my decision, I'd rather use my gifts to put these three out in top form so that their children have a better chance, and their children, and their children... What greater purpose is there than to directly affect the world for an eternity of generations???

That said, I'm not your typical home maker.  See? I even have a preferred term, and it is NOT House Wife or Stay at Home Mom.  I'm more than just a wife, more than just a mom.  My job here is to make a home.  That includes cleaning, cooking, child-rearing, repairing, and a plethora of other pleasantries to make this box of brick feel like a home for these five people-a place of refuge, comfort and security where needs are met and the heart is calmed.  That's not easy, especially when my bad mood leaves them running off to the bowling alley to get out of the tumultuous vibe of the "home"!  But hey-we all have bad days, right?

It's more than the title though.  I can only sit and talk with other housewives about car seats, casseroles and HGTV for so long. I've ridden around in cabs, horsecarts, cyclos and tuk-tuks with babies in my lap in the far corners of the earth, so researching which American car seat is the safest is just beyond me.  This is as far as my interest there goes:  "Are you buckled?" "Good-let's go."  I can't remember the last time I watched HGTV; I buy whatever baby food is cheapest, organic or not; I have no idea where my kids fall on the height/weight percentile charts other than knowing one is really small, one is really big, and one is too young yet to tell; and I certainly don't know how many teeth they're supposed to have, let alone how many they do have.  Except Sunflower.  She has three, but that's easy.  I mean really-what are the odds that my kids would have five extra teeth?  Teeth come in; I don't see the need to stick my fingers in that death trap and count them.

What I do know is that I have a Literary Journal deadline in six days, so nap time is spent writing short fiction.  I know that I have a goal to get a Friends Speak ministry up and running at church by Valentine's Day, and much is left undone there.  I didn't flinch when C.'s preschool teacher told me he didn't know his colors yet, but spent ten minutes making sure that his behavior was kind and respectful.  Again-I know that EVENTUALLY, he'll know red from green. Though he may not always remember to say, "Yes, Ma'am", share and touch gently.  My laundry is never done, and the windows have dog paw prints all over them.  Oh well.  My dishes are done, it's vaccuumed, and more than sanitary.  Arguably too sanitary.  Afterall, this is America, and I have a an assortment of disinfectants under my sink preventing my children from building up immunities to anything.  And the one child that has been in my care since birth has severe allergies and asthma.  Did I do that with my obsessive 409-ing and floor mopping?  Who knows.  I definitely am not that homemaker who brings hand sanitizer to the playground, though!

In conclusion, I can't think of another job I would rather have right now than the non-traditional home maker that I am.  There is no greater purpose to me than to raise up these three children in the fear of the Lord to be His servants and productive global citizens.  I love having dinner for Tim when he gets home and knowing everything about my kids.  I know J. and C.'s inside jokes; I know C. hates mac and cheese; J. loves it.  I know the difference between Sunflower's hungry cry and her lonely cry.  I know that C. acts up when his day is unstructured, J. acts up when he needs attention.  I know every freckle on their bodies, and I wouldn't want it any other way.  

Other perks of the job: every other Tuesday, I don't have to get dressed...all day if I don't want to.  I can do adoption presentations at the preschool on Welcome Home Days.  I have an hour and a half or so each day (nap time) to pursue artistic interests, and I have time to stay well-read.  

There may come a time when I go back to work.  I'm looking at MA programs now actually to accompany that possibility.  But for now, there is no better job in the world, and the opportunity to do it is what I am MOST thankful for this year.  And you?  What are you most thankful for?

Very belated Halloween pics

This isn't a Sunflower pic from Halloweeen, but she didn't dress up or go trick-or-treating, and what's a post of the kids without all three kids, so... isn't she cute!?

Here's C. being knighted in our very hectic and messy living room before Trick-or-Treating.  He loved the idea of being a knight to take care of princesses like his little sister.

Arg!  J. would rather be a money stealing, treasure hiding, rogue of the open sea.
(By they way, Dollar Tree is my favorite store.  Both costumes: $6.)

But big castles, jousting, eye patches and talking parrots aside, all that really mattered was that they both got a sword.  Boys will be boys!

The duel you didn't read about in history books:

Holiday pictures...

There isn't much more to say than this, is there? She cracks us up!  And yes, there was a huge shout that came with that pose.  She is not a small personality! :)  It'll blow up if you click it and want the full effect.

We did get some great ones though-as if this one isn't great- but, you know, more...traditional ones, and they will be posted after Christmas cards are mailed out.  

And since Veteran's Day makes me think of my Timmy, who makes me think of weddings and love and whatnot, here's something old, new, borrowed and blue for the week:

Old:  The old standard "Jingle Bells" sounds best when played on the cello by J. pizzicato style and very, very legato.

New: A Ginger snap latte is the same thing as a Gingerbread Bread latte.  Why change the name and confuse people after all these years??? 

Borrowed: Kim Edwards' short story collection, "Secrets of the Fire King"-that I borrowed from the used book store-is fabulous!  

Blue: A little bittersweet, actually.  When C. was an infant, and I was worried he'd fall prey to SIDS because of his high risk for it, I slept each night with my hand on his back. As long as his back softly rose and fell in tempo we both slept well.  Well, his asthma has been so bad lately that I've taken to doing the same thing again.  This time though, his coughing is so intense we're both up, but when he does fall asleep with a nebulizer mask attached to his face, my hand is on him to make sure his breathing is normal.  This wasn't a memory I really wanted to repeat, but I'm fully aware that his disabilities could be far worse, so I'm treasuring the time when my youngest son wants his mommy to take care of him.

Beyond politics

How precious it is to be able to say to you, sweet boy, "You can be ANYTHING God made you to be," and really, really, stare into your soul and pinch your cheeks, really, REALLY... mean it. Yes, you can.