Crazy Rednecks

I have said before that my husband and I are unrepentant rednecks. We are both fiercely independent,  hard working, creative crazies who like fast vintage cars and big guns and wide open spaces. So it was perfectly fitting that we spend part of his Christmas vacation teaching our children to love the same things. He wanted to get me a gun for Christmas, but wasn’t sure what I could handle. So we went out to our land and brought some toys. Targets? Who needs targets? Cheap water bottles explode when you shoot them with a 12 gauge shotgun, which is WAY more fun. And then you can stand them up again, grab your .30-06 deer rifle, and shoot the caps off of the already dead water bottles. Highly satisfying. Needless to say, he decided I wasn’t a pansy when it comes to guns. The older kids got safety and shooting lessons from their very own Marine shooting instructor, too.

Then we put the boom sticks away safely, and the kids led a mad dash through the woods in search of the perfect Christmas tree. Funny how they always pick the ones that are twice the height of the ceiling… it took some discussion to convince them that if the tree is twice as tall as Daddy, it WON’T FIT IN OUR HOUSE. But finally, the perfect tree appeared. We walked into a clearing and there it was, waiting for us. Complete with golden beams of sunset and angels singing. Our boys produced the saw, cut it down, and hauled it out with excited yelps, energetic advice to each other, and lots of arm waving and grunting. My hero and I followed their passionate charge at a more leisurely pace, enjoying the woods and the drama unfolding before us. Sibling stepping on the tree while it is being dragged to the truck? Check. Tree getting hung in brush on its way out? Check. Prickles and pokes from the needles? Check check.

We made memories that day. Together. Another step in our journey away from “us” and “them”, to just “us”. So from our big, crazy redneck, blended family to yours…

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Just not enough.

Most days, in this adventure of blending two big families, we do pretty well. There is a definite upward trend in our identifying as a FAMILY, brothers and sisters seeing one another as siblings rather than competitors or intruders. We work together, we play together, we are silly together and sad together. Good things.

And then, there are THOSE days.

Those days when everyone is cranky. When one is irritated and the other is guilty by eye color. (All of my hero’s kids have brown eyes; all of mine have blue eyes.) When the still-fresh shock of our lives being turned upside down yet again gets on everybody’s nerves. It doesn’t matter that this time, the change is a blessed one and not a destructive one. It is a huge shift, and even though before we got married, their life with single parents was rough…it was familiar. The last time their lives were turned inside out, pain and devastation followed. Now, some days, I think they expect more of the same.

My job is to prove their fears groundless. My job is to love past the hurt. To extend grace and firm boundaries to the hurting child behind the angry hurtful words. To show them that this time, change heals.

Let me tell you, on THOSE days, I am painfully aware that I am just not big enough for this assignment. How do I extend grace to this young person who just basically called me an incompetent fool? Usually THOSE days happen when I am being bombarded on many fronts by criticism or difficulty. Thank You, God… yes, I know it makes me stronger. I had this funny idea that He had grown me so much through the abuse and divorce and single parenthood… that I was somehow entitled to some smooth sailing for a while. Ha. That’s what I get for thinking.

C.S. Lewis said, in his Chronicles of Narnia, that “Often the only reward for a job well done is to be set another and harder task.” Maybe the struggle on THOSE days is the applause of heaven… maybe it is simply the next level in my training as a disciple of Jesus. I do know that they require a depth of grace and strength and self control that I don’t have yet in myself. I have to lean SO HARD on Christ. The good news is that He is always there to help,  His Word my constant check and guide. No, I am not sufficient for this task. I fail regularly. But by His grace and through His strength, we are growing and uniting as a family, and it is good.
I may not be enough, but He is.

His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness. Through these he has given us his very great and precious promises, so that through them you may participate in the divine nature… 2 Peter 1:3-4

Certifiable

People have jokingly accused me of being crazy. What they don’t know is that they are right on. You have to be just half a bubble off of level to volunteer for this job. But to add babysitting to the mix? Yeah, that’s nuts.

Sort of. I watch a one year old while her mom works. The kids get a chance to play with a baby, I get my baby fix, and it’s all good. I sort of expected it to be harder… I remember when my oldest was a baby, and EVERYTHING was hard. Even going to the bathroom. Could I put her down without danger? What if she CRIED? Eleven kids later, I think I can safely add the title “Professional Mom” to my resume. I know it’s ok for babies to cry. I have an eagle eye for chokable objects. My Mom-radar functions quite well, and I learned a long time ago to trust that mysterious yet indispensable tool: intuition. Babies and kids need basic things; love, food, rest, safety, and boundaries. And with the eager “big brothers” and “big sisters”, it will be a miracle if this kid ever learns to walk. 

One thing I did forget… and that is how the pace of life has to change with a baby. I have to allow sooo much more time to do ANYTHING. It is probably a good change. Another ball to juggle, another piece to the already mind breaking logistical puzzle, but my days seem much slower. Maybe because I sneak a nap when the baby does…??? Another survival trick I learned a while ago.

Managing a bunch of kids when you have older ones isn’t all that insane, really. Not like when they were little and needed ME every minute. We just traded that intense season for another one… teens and tweens. Give me baby giggles and even screams over a suddenly “mature” offspring who knows more than I do about everything any day. But that is another post- right now I have a baby to enjoy.

Baby steps

You would think, with all the helpers running around here, that the house would stay clean and orderly all the time. Eleven sets of hands can get a lot of work done in a short amount of time. Right?  Of course right.

Or not. I think my children are part squirrel. I will get one set doing their chores, walk away to motivate someone else, look back, and the first one is already sneaking baby bunnies into the house for socialization. (Well, they ARE stinking cute.) 

But I am seeing an upward trend in the order of the house. Six months ago I needed scuba gear to be able to breathe… I was drowning. It took me realizing that there are a bunch more of THEM than there is of ME, and assigning age appropriate chores, training them to do said chores, and now we are working on doing chores without Mom sounding like a broken record. “Do the dishes please.” “Trash out, buddy.” “Laundry going, eldest.” “Dishes please.” “Trash out, dude. Don’t forget a new bag.” “Laundry…” “Dishes!” “Trash!” “LAUNDRY!”
And so forth. We have a points system that we implemented several months ago, tied to their allowance. Good behavior, motivation, quietly being helpful without drawing Mom’s attention to the fact that you are being helpful… all of those things earn a blue point. But things like fighting with siblings, back talk to parental units, slacking on work… those things earn a red point. Blue points earn bonus $$, red points earn negative $$. A fine, if you will. It involves some math when it comes to doing allowance, but it is a great motivator for the kids. Those that are approval-driven don’t want their name tarnished with a dreaded RED MARK, and those that are income-driven don’t want to lose any of their allowance. One or two pretend that they don’t care, but when everyone else gets their allowance and they used all theirs up by mouthing off and fighting… well, that does tend to motivate.

So the baby steps are there. Every time we go on a cleaning spree, it takes less time to get the house in shape. I am learning how to manage people, not just try to do everything myself…because I can’t. I hung up my Wonder Woman cape a long time ago.