Category: Helpfulness of Habit

I just went back and read last week’s entry.  I was so discouraged.  I worked harder this week to avoid discouragement, to remind myself how much God cares about what I am doing, and to strengthen my faith that he can, in spite of me , do what needs to be done in our home.  When I prayed I reviewed the day mentally and listed rewarding moments I had with each child, moments  that reminded me how great it is to be a Mom.  I thanked Heavenly Father for them.  It helped.  I feel encouraged.


I’m noticing a trend in how my weeks turn out.  Either I do a great job of staying on top of the housekeeping, laundry, organization and so forth or I do a great job of taking care of myself:  exercise, creativity, reading, etc.  I feel like the scale is just bouncing back and forth between the two, and I haven’t yet found a balance.  I’m becoming more convinced that the only way to balance it right now is to survive on 4 hours of sleep every night… which is, at this point in time, a certain recipe for a migraine.  I’ve tried to attack the house one day, then loosen up a bit the next to allow more time for balance but it doesn’t work.  The house falls apart in an hour if I’m not on the ball.

So this week was a house week.   Last Saturday I spent several hours cleaning the toy room and we stayed on top of it.  The children cleaned it every day.  The girls room that I excavated on Wednesday is still clean as well.  I’m moderately in control of the laundry.  The main floor has been cleaned a few times each day and I vacuumed the family room twice each day.  No, I’m not being obsessive.  It really does need it that often.  And yes, I clearly need to work on helping my baby keep food and crumbs in the kitchen so it doesn’t need it twice a day.  She’s a whirlwind, that girl.  On Friday night when we had the full-time LDS missionaries for dinner she picked up one of my favorite dessert plates and literally threw it across the kitchen like a Frisbee.  Of course it shattered into a thousand pieces all over two rooms and left the first real gouge in our floor (we’ve had dents but no raw wood with splinters sticking out until now).  Hello!  I was standing 2 feet away.  I just didn’t see it coming, that’s all.  So we vacuum a lot.  And sweep.  And enjoy lots of hugs and kisses from a darling little girl.

Do you ever feel like your house is being overtaken by paper?  I do, especially with children in school.  I think that lots of homes have paper dumping spots, and ours has been no different.  Our dumping spot is the end of the kitchen counter, close to the telephone.  A month ago I set a goal for our dumping spot:  not a single paper on the counter. I am happy to say that for one month I have gone to bed every night with a completely clean kitchen counter.  Every piece is shredded, thrown away, filed away.  I think I can claim it as a habit now, and it’s my first real habit of the year.  Small and simple, to be sure, but it contributes to cleanliness and order.  Tonight I am celebrating zero papers on my counter.

One last note on another habit.  I’m trying to regain the habit of thoughtfulness.  On Valentine’s day I called a couple who live in Gig Harbor, Washington.  I taught the husband while I was a missionary fifteen years ago and have kept in touch with them.  I’d been feeling like I should call them.  I learned that he had another stroke a few weeks ago, and that his wife is also struggling with her health.  We had a wonderful visit and I hung up the phone feeling so good .  I called my husband and said, “You know how I’m tempted all the time when the house is a mess and life feels upside down to just declare the day or the week a total waste?  Well, I just called Wes and Margot and it was the right thing to do.  The whole week is ok, no matter what else happens.”  I need to do things like that more often.

And so life goes on, each day providing opportunities both unique and routine.  I have high hopes for the coming week and all it holds.  I’ve miles to go, but I’m working at it.

Jennifer

Well, well.  I don’t know what to write.  I’m half tempted not to write at all.  Here we are, six weeks into the year.  Far enough in that SOMETHING should be taking form, right?  At least, that’s how I thought it would be.   Instead I find myself wondering if I have even a single good habit left over from any part of my life.   Does having good intentions count as a habit?

I remember my first post of the year, outlining what I had in mind, how I said that my heart wants to fly, to rise above the daily stresses and soar.  Well, if flying is the goal, then this week might be labeled “Crash and Burn.”


My patriarchal blessing tells me I have the gift of patience.  I still remember the day I got the blessing.   I was walking to the car with my Mom.  I remember how the Sunday sunlight filtered through the air.  She commented on the patience thing and mentioned how humorous it was to her.  Clearly it was a gift I had yet to develop.  In the years since I’ve had times when I felt I was able to summon incredible amounts of patience and persistence.  I felt that I had, at last, developed this gift.

Not anymore.  All traces of it seem to have evaporated with the year 2010.  I want progress, and I wanted it yesterday.  I’m tired of exercising, eating 7 servings of fruits and vegetables and drinking tons of water so I can read the exact same thing on the scale from week to week.  I’m tired of being up in the night with children.  I’m tired of sitting down to read a book at night but falling asleep before the first three sentences make any sense to me.    I’m tired of wondering how many years it will take for my children to stop fighting with one another.   Yup.  The only attribute I seem to have today is tired, and that’s not a good sign.

Yesterday my littlest one came down with another fever and I groaned inwardly.  Seriously?  Is that all we’re going to do for two straight months… be sick?!?

My three year old is currently running what I call “Night Time Drink Olympics.”  She takes a two hour nap, then wakes up to go potty.  Fifteen minutes later she wants a drink.  Fifteen minutes after that she needs to go potty again.  Repeat this every fifteen minutes for several hours.  For the first hour I’m pretty sweet.  The second hour it gets really old, and the third and fourth hours are just plain ridiculous.  It doesn’t matter if I give her the drink or not… she continues her pace.  Then, finally, at 3 am she tries a new one, “Mommy my ear hurts.”  A few nights ago I kept saying to her, “Lay down and close your eyes.  Don’t get up again.”   But she didn’t close her eyes and she did get up.  And then she was a monster all day long.

But you live.  Could that be another habit?  To simply live through it?

And then my baby reaches for me.  I pick her up and she lays her head on my shoulders, clutching me tightly around the neck with her little arms.  I whisper to her that I love her, that I’m sorry she’s not feeling well, and a little piece of my heart that is far too busy shouting about being tired quiets down and thinks that maybe, just maybe, it will be worth it someday.

And as I struggle to find something positive to write about my complete lack of both effort and success this week, my three year old joins me on the chair, tucks her arm through mine, lays her head on my shoulder and quickly falls asleep.  The soft rise and fall of her chest combined with the quiet whisper of her breathing and the tapping of keys on my laptop makes me want to close the computer and take a nap with her.  I must admit, being tired is much better if you have a three year old to snuggle with.

Sometimes I wonder where I got all my ideas about being a mother.  I was never into saying things like “I will never…” or “I will always…” but somehow I did pick up a bunch of assumptions that were, shall we say, false.  Many of them held up through babies 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5.  Not so with 6, 7 and 8.  Everything I’d assumed about motherhood no longer helped with the great big group.

But if I underestimated the exhaustion, work, noise, confusion and stress I also underestimated the relief of having a baby who will still hug me when my teenager lists all the reasons he wishes he’d been sent to a different family.  I underestimated the sting of tears in my eyes when my eight year old sees me folding a mountain of laundry and quietly asks, “Would you like some help?”.  I underestimated the comfort of watching my daughter in the kitchen baking cookies for the family, and the unexpected hug from a four year old boy ninja.

I hope someday to fully conquer the temptation to feel discouraged.  It seems to be a daily visitor to my heart.  And in spite of the many moments when I feel like a total failure (and there’s nothing like feeling like you’re botching everything and knowing it will hurt 8 children that you love so dearly) I hope that someday I can make this claim:  I did not quit.

I can’t claim progress this week but I haven’t relinquished hope, either.

Oh, and I designed my 2011 Christmas cards.  How random is that?  I’m trying to learn from my mistakes, make them early, and send them out on time this year.  Nine months ought to be enough time to get them finished.

Hopeful Homemaker

” Wherefore be not weary in well doing, for ye are laying the foundation of a great work.  Out of small things proceedeth that which is great.”


Those words have comforted me this week when I felt like I was accomplishing nothing of consequence.  If only life on paper and life in real time were better friends with each other!  At my house they seem determined not to meet.:)

Seriously, I have to pause and say that I’m so thankful for the week.  I didn’t accomplish a fraction of what was in “The Plan” but I’m grateful to be alive, grateful to be where I am, grateful to live each day with my best friend at my side, grateful to be a mother.

This week was another “sick week” with children home sick four out of five days.   It throws things off quite a bit to have them home. They want me to just be near them, to sit and watch a movie with them, and it’s nice sometimes to do that.  Today everyone was healthy enough for our entire family to attend church together – a first in four weeks.  I hope it continues.

My greatest victory for the week was completing an hour of exercise each day, Monday through Friday.  More than once I did push-ups and sit-ups with a baby literally sitting on my head and shoulders, but I did it.  With all the time we’re still spending in the night with sick children I’m not getting up at 4:30 a.m. to do it but I’m choosing to make it a priority and work the schedule around it.  I feel like it’s an investment which I hope will start producing benefits in the near future.

While other children were obstacles to good daily schedules, I am also thrilled that my baby has begun napping again, and sleeping soundly.  She is so much happier when she does it, which makes me happy too.

Last Saturday I cleared all papers off my kitchen counter.  You know, the random spot where the mail, school work, and everything else gets dumped.  I got rid of it, and kept that counter free of paper all week long. YES!  Now for week two.

Today was week two of two different weekly habits I’m trying to institute in our home.  One has been around for a while but we haven’t been consistent since my baby came along; the other is a new idea.  OH, it feels good to just DO some of the things you know you SHOULD be doing.  More to come on both as we fine-tune.

Once more, the daily schedule I want  so much to have eluded me.  This happened in part due to unforseen sickness in my children and partly because I’m dropping some things to add exercise in at a less ideal time of day.  It will work out.  I’ll keep trying.

Discipline, discipline, discipline.  In some areas I have such an abundance while in others I’m terribly lacking.  I’m learning.  Life is good.  Slowly I am learning to quell the voice in  my head that is always chanting “not good enough” with a simple response, “At least it is something.”

Be not weary in well doing.  Keep on going.  Life is good.

Jennifer