Home Sanctuary

I Would Have Said I'm Sorry Sooner, But You Made Me So Mad

It was really my fault, but I got my back up and I couldn't make myself say those two little words.

"I'm sorry."

This weekend we've been painting two huge signs on the side of an old building downtown as part of a downtown renewal project. My husband, ever the anal perfectionist, thought we should prep things a certain way. I, ever the "oh, it will all work out" optimist, insisted that we did not need to prep. It wasn't a long discussion, but in the end I got my way.

I was wrong.

When we started pulling tape I could immediately see that it was going to take hours to fix. In the hot sun. 10 feet up on ladders and a scissor lift.

That would have been a good time to admit my error and beg forgiveness.

But no.

I faked a cheerful "don't worry, it will be easy to fix. It's not that bad." I realized then that it was going to be a long afternoon, even though we had help coming. I wasn't all that concerned.

Oh, I knew my man was mad at me. To make his silent point that we should have done it his way, he spent "6" (his calculation) hours meticulously fixing the problem.

Lotta overkill, there. Yeah. I. Get. It.

Being in the dog house made me angry. I started thinking of all the mistakes HE made along the way that have cost us time. Yeah, and not only on THIS job, but the last one as well. In fact, if it hadn't been for how long the LAST job took, we'd never be in this rush in the first place. And no apology ever came MY way. You know, come to think of it, I never hear "I'm sorry," and I'm just tired of going through this. Well, you can just stew all you want because you could have done it your way if you wanted to. Don't blame me for this!

We could have gone round and round over who was right or wrong. Day became night and we continued to inch our way across the massive sign. We were exhausted. The sun was brutal yesterday on that west-facing wall. An impending week of rain made every hour important--too important to have to be spent fixing my error.

It was late by the time we got home and we were giving each other the silent treatment. Hey, it's that time of the month for me and I had really bad cramps and I just didn't have the energy to deal with this. And I worked hard all day and.....

There was still time to say "I'm sorry," but I didn't.

I waited until this morning, and even then it was through clenched teeth, and only because Tom told me that the real reason he was so mad was because I didn't show any remorse.

Remorse? Ha! Just as I was about to launch into all my reasons and all my accusations I realized the futility of trying to defend myself. I really WAS wrong, end of story.

I swallowed hard.

"I'm sorry." I put the period at the end of the sentence and didn't add the " (comma) but....." like I really wanted to.

No angels swooped in with harps, and the air didn't immediately clear. Our conversation that followed was a series of awkward phrases.

"You wake up G.T?"

"Not yet, but I will."

"Looks like the rain is coming."

"Better hurry and get to the jobsite."

At least we were talking. Those two little words aren't magic, but they are powerful. I felt my pride start melting as soon as they left my lips. I saw his shoulders relax as he heard them. It's funny, but I even started feeling sorry after I said it. My point of view didn't seem quite so perfect.

What took me so long? Maybe next time I'll be quicker to apologize and save both of us the trouble of hauling around an afternoon of anger. It is so much harder to get up and down ladders with all that extra weight. It's harder to sleep at night, and harder to see the good things that happened during the day.

This morning my man is off to the project site to clean things up before the rain sets in. While he's gone I'm going to spend a little time on my knees. I think there's Someone Else I need to say "I'm sorry" to.

Mr. Hooper's Garden

Old Mr. Hooper's garden is coming along nicely. I drive past his plot of dirt at 40 miles per hour several times a week on my way into town, and always check on his progress. His garden is out by the road, located about a mile before the country road becomes a 4 lane suburban throroughfare.

Mr. Hooper is Old School. He wears long-sleeved plaid shirts, pressed pants and a straw hat. He's a bit stooped over, and I've often seen him leaning on a rake, supervising a younger man in a tank shirt and shorts. His old truck and 50's style ranch house are meticulously maintained. Of course.

I've learned alot about gardening from passing by and observing him through my car window. I've realized that he starts tilling a couple of weeks before the last frost. Whenever I see his freshly turned earth I feel a little wistful. Darn! Another year and I still don't have a vegetable garden! When I saw that he'd set out his tomato plants, I knew we were no longer in danger of a freeze. I didn't need the Farmer's Almanac to tell me.

This year, I noticed that Mr. Hooper protected his baby tomato plants with hollowed out 5 gallon buckets. And last year, he hung red Christmas balls from his gorgeous plants to trick the birds into pecking them instead of his precious tomatoes. Smart! I made mental notes so that when I start my garden I'll remember it. I see that he's used different colored twine for the different rows of vegetables that are already starting to come up. And within each row, he has staggered his plantings so that he will enjoy fresh produce continuously.

I still haven't figured out how he keeps the weeds out. Maybe that younger man does all the grunt work.

Note to self. Get man to do grunt work.

In watching the Old School gardener, I've thought about the other "Mr. Hoopers" in my life: people whose lives I have observed and learned from over the years. There's my mom, an incredible woman of faith who has influenced me, probably more than anyone else. I've watched her live a life of ministry and service to others, but mostly ministry and service to her family. There is my friend Barbara, an enthusiastic grandmother who recently earned her PhD in Counseling, active in the lives of women in my church. Then there is Billie, a great-grandmother who is still serving and involved with others. She and her husband are greeters at church. There is also Priscilla, (her book is in my sidebar), whose walk with the Lord and godly wisdom never fail to inspire me.

Another "Mr. Hooper" is my sister, Katherine. In raising her five children, her heart is at the core of her family and I've learned a lot from the way she loves and cares for them. I've found other "Mr. Hoopers" in blogland: Chris, at Come to the Table, and Kim at Lifesong are a couple that easily come to mind. I love to read these ladies' blogs because there is so much to glean from their lives.

I'd like to step on the brake and pull over the next time I see Mr. Hooper out in his garden. I'll bet he is like most other gardeners I've known--willing and eager to share bits of knowlege with novices like me. After all, there is only so much a person can learn by merely passing by. I know if I just spent a little time with him I'd walk away with a wheelbarrow full of enthusiasm and newfound wisdom for getting my garden underway.

I feel encouraged to tap my brakes so I can spend some time with my other "Mr. Hoopers," too. I think I'll go with an empty wheelbarrow so I can load up while I'm there.

Do you have some "Mr. Hoopers" in your life?

Proverbs 13:20 He who walks with the wise grows wise, but a companion of fools suffers harm.

Rachel Anne

"What's Your Favorite?" Game

Works For Me Wednesday
Easy game! This is a fun way to pass the time with your kids. It is great for waiting rooms, car trips, or lazy afternoons. Better yet is bedtime! My son loves "playing" it.

You simply take turns asking each other questions starting with "What's your favorite......?"

You can start with easy ones like, What's your favorite color? or, What's your favorite snack? But then you can get more specific and that's where it gets fun!

What is your favorite color of socks?
What is your favorite snack to eat on a Friday afternoon while you are watching Arthur?
What is your favorite kind of ice cream to eat when you are with Grandma?
What is your favorite book that you remember from when you were little?
What is your favorite thing to do on a warm spring day when you just finished breakfast and you can't watch TV?

Use your imagination and encourage your kids to use theirs.

G.T. likes for me to be the "asker," instead of taking real turns, especially at bedtime. With more than two people, you can do it Round Robin style. It sounds like a silly game but it is amazing how much kids like it. Even the little ones enjoy telling you their favorites (and the big people, too, ahem.)

Best of all is the price: free

What does Simplicity Look Like?

My sister, Katherine, and I are on a roll. I started talking about Simplicity here and here. You might be able to tell that our phone conversations often revolve around the topics of Simplicity, Sanctuary, and Where Is My Sanity. That's because you never fully arrive at Simplicity if you have kids, go to church and live in America.

She posted a few days ago about Simplicity With the Big Picture in Mind. Wow, she has some great points, and it made me stop and think. Pursuing Simplicity doesn't always look like what you think it will.

When I imagine the Simple Life, I kind of think about becoming more Amish-like. Baking bread, working the land, making quilts, putting up jars of preserves. Hair in a bun, wearing clothing made of hemp.

The reality is, we will most likely never live like that. We don't know the first thing about farming!

But we do know about what brings peace to our home, and that is Margin. It is the space that brings sanity to our finances, our time and our belongings. Going to school for alot of years has brought margin and a simpler life to my sister's family. In the middle of those years they might have wondered if it was worth the effort, but they trudged on and finally made it. They pursued the Simple Life.

Several years ago, I wouldn't have thought a simpler life would include me working. I do have a fairly flexible schedule that allows me to do Mommy things, but we have to make choices to make it work. Simplicity means that I don't tend to my garden like I would like to. I don't volunteer for many church things. I'm not a Room Mother. I sure don't bake bread or put up preserves. There is dust on my furniture. I've had to let alot of things go.

I have to look at my work as part of God's provision for our family at this time, rather than see it as a burden to be borne. There is joy to be found in embracing the seasons of life and continuing to pursue Simplicity every day, regardless of your circumstances. Rarely does one ever have the perfect scenario to think "I have arrived."

Are there some things in your life that don't LOOK like Simplicity, but will reap rewards later? Maybe there are some things that you can let go of to keep the Bigger Picture in Mind. Jesus calls us to a simple faith, a simple walk with Him. Our complicated lives often crowd out what He is trying to do in us. By letting go of the unimportant things and embracing His plan for us, we can see His hand more clearly.

Jeremiah 29:11 "For I know the plans I have for you," says the Lord. "They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope."

You know it's time to clean out the fridge when

You find a carton of yoghurt with the expiration date of Jan 15. And when an orange juice carton left over from the hockey tournament (weeks ago) is bulging and about to explode. When you are scared to open containers of leftovers.

I started cleaning out the fridge the other day and was so disgusted with the situation in there, I had to throw away the entire containers, not just the contents. Have you ever done that? My gag reflex was about to kick in and I just didn't want to deal with what might be growing inside.

Refried Beans: THE WORST LEFTOVER EVER

Now there is nothing left except some eggs and bacon, miscellaneous condiments and cheese. As long as we can have toast for breakfast and quesadillas for lunch, we can make it until I get to the store.

I need to remember to add Storage Containers to my list. The disposable kind.

Quest for Good Hair

My hairdresser squeezed me in for a much-needed trim today. She was so fast, she reminded me of Edward Scissorhands: hair flying everywhere as she sliced away then spun me around to look at the final result. I almost had whiplash. But when you are getting worked in while her other client getting a color job roasts under the dryer before the timer goes off, you can't complain.

So maybe that's why I felt I must "fix" and "tweak" my new hairdo myself as soon as I got home. She seemed a little more rushed than usual and I could see some pieces she missed.

I learned two things: 1) It's hard to use scissors while looking in the mirror! You really can't tell how much you are actually cutting when you are working on the back of your head....

And, 2) it doesn't take too many snips to radically change a person's hairstyle. Oops.

I finally put the scissors down and backed away from the mirror. I'm still not satisfied with the back (or the sides for that matter) but I'll have to wait until my daughter comes home this weekend for her opinion.

If she says it's a Mom Cut, then I'll know it still needs work. (A Mom Cut is not a good thing.) I probably can't hope for "Cool," but I'd settle for "Cute."

And if I average the cost of this morning's haircut (48.00) with the cost of this afternoon's haute hair attempt (0.00), I'll feel a little better. Each cut REALLY only cost me 24.00!

Just excuse me if I cry myself to sleep. All I wanted was ONE good haircut, not two bad ones.

Kids' Sports and the Simpler Life

Talent is commonly developed at the expense of character. Ralph Waldo Emerson

If you are the parent of a three year old, you may have already been asked if he or she is signed up for soccer yet. Or dance. Or gymnastics. Or whatever.

They LOOK SO CUTE IN THEIR LITTLE UNIFORMS! So you sign up.

And It Begins.

From here on, there will be a constant evaluation of your child's level of interest, abilities and potential in the world of sports. You will ponder practice times, furnish snacks, brave bad weather, suffer through poor coaching, unfair reffing, and hard bleachers so that your child can learn character and hopefully win some games. Most of it is really, really fun!

It starts getting complicated when you either a) have more than one child, or b) your child likes more than one sport, or c) your child shows potential in their chosen sport or d) more than one child shows potential in one or more sports. Add to this mix the other variables of schoolwork, church, and family time and you have a real challenge to keep all the wheels on.

One of the hardest challenges to face is when your kid is pretty good and someone leans over and suggests that he or she really should be playing "Select". The competition is so much better, and it will really prepare them for playing on the High School and College level. In fact, if your kid has any hope of playing on the High School team, you have no choice but to play Select.

Year Round.

Oh, and it's expensive.

We know parents who work second jobs and run up their credit cards so that their kids can play on Select Teams. They make multiple two-hour round trips to practices (that's just in the car) and spend every weekend at tournaments. Multiply that by just one other sibling and they are almost never home.

Statistics will tell you that only a very TINY percentage of kids will ever play sports in college and even fewer will make it to the professional level. If you are thinking that you are investing in your child's education by funding expensive sports leagues, think again. There are FAR MORE scholarships available to good students who are good citizens than to athletes. That is the truth.

So what is a parent to do? Well, here is what we have done, if it helps.

1. We generally limit sports to ONE PER YEAR, per kid. We did consider two sports for G.T. this year, but only because we are down to one child at home and it was doable. But the seasons overlapped and we decided against it. We don't go from baseball to soccer to hockey and it just works for us. Every kid needs time off, even from something they love.

2. The girls took music lessons in addition to a sport, so for the sport season it was crazy at times. We were OK with that, because it didn't last long. After a few seasons, they weren't all that interested in sports and we let it go.

3. We have not done Select Teams. We aren't against them by any means, but we can't afford the time or the money. We have done the Recreation Leagues and the school leagues and may consider a Select team in the future if Tom can coach. Coaching would give us a discount and would give him and G.T. time together. Many factors must fall into place for it to work.

4. No one gets to sign up for anything before we discuss it thoroughly. (This goes for any activity, not just sports.)

In my last post, I said to live Simply you have to start by taking a hard look at your time, money and resources and choose to live within them. By limiting our involvement in sports, we have freed up time to do other things: homework, hanging out, fishing, and not eating every meal out of a bag in the car. (This also helps our manners, but that again is for another post.)

Making choices about our family's activities is an ongoing process. It changes with each new sport season, school year and event. We've often found ourselves in over our heads, (particularly in December and May), going way too many directions. And that's with the best of intentions! Passing kids off like batons as you race from one thing to another is no way to live, and not what I want my kids to remember of their childhood.

We want sports to be part of our lives, not to rule our lives.

Rachel Anne

The Pursuit of a Simpler Life

I think most Americans are wondering where to get off the fast-paced, caffeine-driven lifestyle that has become the norm of our culture. Are you?

I had three people ask me this week "how do you do it?" They look at where I live (the Barn House) and think maybe I've got it figured out.

Well. Not quite.

But I will say this: the pursuit of a simpler lifestyle is at the heart of the decisions we make that concern our family. And that's a good place to start.

One friend asked me if it would be worth it to move to the country, even if it meant sacrificing financially just to "get out" of suburbia.

Well, it depends. If it means going into more debt, having to get a second job, and having no food, then no. If it means giving up "extras," driving an older car, and doing without a vacation, then absolutely YES!

But moving to a plot of land where you can't see your neighbors does not solve the larger issue of simplifying, and can even complicate matters. Neighborhood living has distinct advantages, such as convenience and playmates for the kids.

Living away from town often means that you spend MORE time in the car, and must plan even the small errands and play dates. You have to ask yourself if that simplifies things for you.

So back to the Issue of Simplifying.

To me, simplifying begins with a decision to say "No."

No to buying things on credit.

No to eating out, especially on credit.

No to bigger, nicer, newer things.

No to excess entertainment.

No to excessive extra-curricular activities.

No to vacations you cannot afford.

In short, Simplifying means taking a hard look at the time, money and resources you have been given, and then choosing to live within them.

For us, the path to Simplicity has meant a hard road to get out of debt. We have never lived extravagantly, but we didn't always make the best choices with our money. We now do not have credit cards. If we don't have the cash in the bank, we don't spend it. This is painful, especially when a car breaks down and we need it to get to work. Or when the kids need something and we can't provide it just then. Living without credit cards has made us live within our means. There is no peace like the peace that comes from Zero Debt, and we are almost there. The pain is worth the peace of mind.

Simplifying has also meant that we limit outside activities. I will write about this in another post, so this doesn't become too burdensome to read. Suffice to say that you have to fight for time: time to eat together, time to be a family, time to be bored. Boredom is a necessary part of childhood and should not be feared. (another post, perhaps?)

The pursuit of simplicity is a worthy endeavor! It doesn't matter WHERE you live, it matters HOW you live. Simplicity creates sanctuary for our families, and we need that. It takes some backbone to say "no" to the seductive allure of our slick culture, but it can be done. Choosing a simpler lifestyle means saying "YES" to a life that celebrates the important things: our faith, our relationships, and the beauty of being a family. Isn't that what its all about?

Rachel Anne

Squirrel Elimination, Jack Bauer Style

Have we seen too many episodes of "24?"

I came upstairs into my bedroom to find it had become a sniper's perch. The nightstand had been pushed away from the window and a BB gun was propped up against the wall nearby. A carton of ammo sat where the vase of fake flowers had been. The window was open with a nice view to the rotting eave overhead, where a couple of squirrels had squeezed through and taken up residence in our attic.

Apparently, "Jack Bauer" (a.k.a. Tom) had been staking out the intruders. The squirrels had been making a racket up there (directly over our bed), starting early in the morning and partying until night. They would occasionally pop out the hole in the eave and sit there, surveying the yard like lords of the manor.

Just FEET from our bedroom window. Well within range.

Seeing the gun, the ammo and the open window, I knew instantly that my dear husband had gone undercover to Take. Them. Out.

I found Jack in the CTU headquarters downstairs. That would be the kitchen.

I confronted him about his tactics. He sputtered a little bit and then managed to convince me that popping the critters with a BB gun would be far better than poisoning them and having them die in the attic. Besides, they eat electrical wires and could start a fire by shorting them out. They might be cute, but they are not good houseguests. Little hooligans.

"Were you wearing "camo?" I teased.

"Nah," he said, but then added sheepishly, "But it's a good thing you didn't see me laying across the hood of the car, waiting for one to run over the roof to the tree! I had to wait FOREVER for him to appear." I could just picture my 46 year old man in sniper position on top of the Saturn.

Motionless. Waiting.

Sadly, he wasn't able to get a good shot off and had to abandon his post.

Too bad we didn't have Chloe O'Brien to use infrared heat-sensors to locate the critters and then download the information to his cell phone so he could know exactly when they would be headed his way.

Backup arrived when the schoolbus let G.T. off at 4:30. He became aware of the renegade squirrels when one ran across the wall outside while he was enjoying an after-school snack. He sprung into action, tracking it to the bushes out front. He grabbed the gun and poked around. The squirrel suddenly jumped out and made a break for it.

Mr. Squirrel climbed a tree and became a sitting duck for the teenage sharp-shooter. With a pop from the BB gun, he got mad and started scolding. Then, as the BB's whizzed past him, he took off running for the woods.

"Man, I didn't know squirrels could run that fast!" G.T. said later, in his debriefing.

Jack made sure that Mrs. Squirrel was gone from the attic, then nailed up some siding to close the hole.

Mission Accomplished.

It has been great not to wake up to the sound of gnawing and cavorting in the attic.

Now, if we could just take care of those mockingbirds outside the window at 5 a.m.....

Oh, Jaa-aack!

Writer...Interrupted

Gina, over at Writer...Interrupted, asked me to guest blog once a month at her site. I'll be posting on the first Thursday of the month over there, so I hope you'll hop over and read me. I'll admit I am intimidated by the professional writers over there, but I will give it my best represent for the hacks. I'll be writing on marriage and parenting...two subjects I love to write about.

This month's post is one that is close to my heart. I posted it here awhile back, called Fearless Parenting. There is so much to love and embrace about being a parent. So much to look forward to! Take a minute to imagine the wonderful experiences you will have and throw that into the balance with the hard stuff everyone tells you is headed your way. There truly is nothing better than to enjoy these precious gifts under your care, so don't let others rob you of your anticipation!

Blessings,

Rachel Anne