Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep

It's late.

Very late.

Late enough that Prairie Guy and I are in bed, quietly praying together (Yes!).

Suddenly we hear a little voice coming from the room next door, giving thanks and making petitions to his Father in heaven.

"Dear Dod. Tank you for dis day, and for my mommy and daddy, and Shay-shay and Joo-Joo. Tank you for Hightning Maquine and Spiderman and kitties and chocolate. Tank you for my wight. Help me not be scared my wight is off...."

at which point Prairie Hero (5) grumbles, "Oof.... can you pray in your HEAD??"

at which point The Rugrat (3) answers decidedly, "No... God can't hear my head."

Family Council Meeting

Sunday nights. After supper clean up. We call for family council meeting and the kids come running (joyfully) to the living room. They think it's a "fun" meeting. It ends up being fun, because they make it fun. No hum drum speeches in monotonous voices. Just one simple question, poised to our little "union". One opportunity per week for them to poise their frustrations and brainstorm for a better environment. The question....

"What is the biggest problem robbing us of peace and causing us to live in frustration in our home and towards one another this week?"

This week, since I dealt with kids yelling ALOT I thought that would be the hot ticket item. But no. Prairie Hero (5) stretches his had eager and high.... eyes large... pick me, pick me.

Prairie Guy nods at him.

"The mess."

I smile. Yes. Touchdown.

I ask; "So what can we do about 'the mess'"?

Prairie Poppet's (8) hand pops up. "Each person should have to put away whatever they take out as soon as they are done with it." (I'm sure I must have said that a million times in my short parenting career)... she didn't come up with that on her own genius, but at least it's a comfort to know they are not completely deaf.

Prairie Guy, "And if they don't....?"

Pause. Long pause.

Prairie Girl (10); "If they don't, then they will have to pay Mommy a dollar for everything she finds."

Hmmm.... good idea, but not good enough. I hate being the one to have to "supervise and enforce" the rules. I like enlisting my kids to hold each other accountable.

"How about this." I suggest. "How about, whoever finds someone else's mess and puts it away gets one dollar from the person who LEFT the mess?"

This idea was met by extreme enthusiasm, and I have to say that our house has never been less messy than the past two days! I love my kids. Tell 'em and tell 'em till your blue in the face, and no results. Let them recognize the problem and brainstorm a solution and watch them rise to the occasion. That's my kind of parenting.

Her Children Rise Up and Call Her Blessed

I had a rough night last night. Wednesday nights are often crazy with the stress of getting supper on the table and cleaned up before heading out to teach at our local kids club. It's kind of like the pre-church chaos where everything in the world seems to be working against you.

Last night was particularly trying. I have been working really hard to try to create a peaceful environment around here, and seem to be fighting a losing battle. I realize that I can't do this on my own. I had talked to the girls numerous times and told them I needed them to start taking care of their own messes. Earlier yesterday I had warned them that if they didn't take care of their messes before club, I wouldn't be taking them. Lo and behold, time to leave arrived and chaos still dominated.

I was not happy about having to enforce the consequence, but I knew I had to. I told them to go and talk to their father and ask him what he thought should be done, and he said it was between them and me, so I had to decide. I put my foot down, in the midst of many tears, and left with a few tears of my own but not without having promised them consolation prizes if they showed me they could do a great job and we could make things right.

Well... let's just say we had a conflict in the parenting department and when Daddy heard girls wailing upstairs and saw me driving away he called me up and wanted me to come back and get them. Let's just say that the timing was bad, the communication was poor and the phone call ended very badly ie "click".

When I got home the manure hit the oscillating device in every sense of the word and about every single person in the house had an emotional breakdown. Don't you just hate it when that happens? I won't go into all the gory details, but the beautiful part of the story is this. When I was crying my eyes out, tired and spent and feeling completely misunderstood and unsupported, my little girl snuck off with her bible to look for a very special passage, copied it out on notepaper with hearts and xoxo's, and came to kiss me and tuck it into my hand.

I unfolded the paper and read;

"May the Lord bless you and take good care of you. May the Lord smile on you and be gracious to you. May the Lord look on you with favor and give you PEACE." Numbers 6:24-26

My daughter blessed me in the true sense of the word. In the midst of all that hurt and frustration, I received a verbal blessing, and it washed over me and strengthened me with grace and peace. I think I can learn alot from her.