Today I had a great compliment. It came from a dear young mom who was in a speech/drama class I taught in high school. She is now the mother of two adorable little girls, and we occasionally meet for coffee in order to discuss the challenges of being a wife and mother, as well as a dozen other topics. When we parted she said to me, "You know why I enjoy being with you so much? It's because you are always so POSITIVE." She pointed out that so often women (and men) of my generation are so... well, negative.
This is a challenge that I started thinking about a good many years ago. I knew that one day I would be a part of the senior generation. Believe me, I have fought it as hard as my body will allow me. Some things are inevitable, but being a positive person with a good attitude is something that, with God's empowerment, I can control. Mt motivation is quite simple: I want people to like me. I especially want young people to like me.
About twenty years ago(really, has it been that long?), I found an article in our hometown newspaper that pertained to aging gracefully. I kept it, because it has the best advice for insuring positive thinking and popularity with people that I have ever seen. It is advice attributed to a Dr. Maria Haynes, a UCLA professor at the time. This is what she suggests.
1. When you are young, find out what qualities in old people are admired by the young. Remember them.
2.Never praise the good old days. Live in the present.
3.Learn early in life how to be well-balanced emotionally, how to control anger. Oldsters who aren't upset by unpleasant events, who can deal with crises wisely, are sought out by young people as sources of advice and strength.
4. Keep alive intellectually. This means not only reading and other cultural activities but maintaining a lively interest in all things going on around you.
5. Maintain strict adherence to principles of personal hygiene. Neat personal appearance and good table manners ,make oldsters attractive to the younger generation.
6. Lay a groundwork early in life. You can't be a pleasant old man or woman unless you cultivate these qualities long before you grow old. They don't come naturally with age.
I need to post these suggestions on my refrigerator because I don't think I'll find anything that says it better. I want to maintain a positive outlook on life. I want to be the kind of woman that is described in Proverbs 31:25, "She is clothed with strength and dignity, and she laughs with no fear of the future." I want that to be me.
Header Photo
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
A friend was visiting me one day when the boys were younger and she looked out the window at one of them who was walking across the top of the short bridge behind our house. "Isn't that dangerous?" she asked. "Well yea," I replied, "but then so is everything else that they do." Thinking about it, I realized that I was telling the truth.
Things haven't changed a whole lot since they have grown up. Don't get me wrong; they're not foolish and irresponsible (some mothers might disagree). They're just...well, grown up boys. John Eldridge wrote a marvelous book entitled "Wild at Heart." I recommend that every mother of boys read it. Our youngest son actually placed it in my hands when he was a teenager and said, "Read this if you want to understand me." The book describes the heart of a man. It shows how God created man with the desire to conquer and the penchant for adventure and challenge.
I think we mothers of boys do our sons a disservice by trying to squelch their desire for excitement. We try to hold them back and keep them "safe." I believe one of the most significant elements of the relationship I have with our sons is their knowledge that I continuouisly cover them with intercessory prayer. I've never been able to follow them literally (nor would I want to!), but I committed them to God for Him to use them to promote His Kingdom, and that is about as exciting as an adventure can be.
Things haven't changed a whole lot since they have grown up. Don't get me wrong; they're not foolish and irresponsible (some mothers might disagree). They're just...well, grown up boys. John Eldridge wrote a marvelous book entitled "Wild at Heart." I recommend that every mother of boys read it. Our youngest son actually placed it in my hands when he was a teenager and said, "Read this if you want to understand me." The book describes the heart of a man. It shows how God created man with the desire to conquer and the penchant for adventure and challenge.
I think we mothers of boys do our sons a disservice by trying to squelch their desire for excitement. We try to hold them back and keep them "safe." I believe one of the most significant elements of the relationship I have with our sons is their knowledge that I continuouisly cover them with intercessory prayer. I've never been able to follow them literally (nor would I want to!), but I committed them to God for Him to use them to promote His Kingdom, and that is about as exciting as an adventure can be.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Family Vacation
At the end of this month we're going to try something: We're all going to the beach together. "All" includes five grown sons, three wives (one of whom will be 10 months pregnant), two 2-year-old toddlers,and one 5-month-old baby. Thankfully, everybody will be leaving the dogs and the 14-pound cat somewhere else. This is a big event for us because it will be the first time we have ALL been on vacation together in 7 years, and at that time there were no wives or babies! I'm pretty hyped about this trip because we have been talking about it for months. Everybody is making good suggestions,i.e., how to divide the responsibilities for our night meals among the couples (the two bachelors are considered a couple, much to their chagrin), what games we want to play, when to set up tee times for golf and what day to arrange deep sea fishing.
This all brings back the memory that is indelibly burned in my mind of a family vacation we took when the boys were very young and I was the ONLY planner. This is how I recorded the memory in my journal:
"Our Family Vacation:Recipe for Disaster"
This year we decided to take a two-week family vacation. It was to be a special time for the whole family. Our youngest was two years old.
I began to make preparations for departure about a month in advance. I had planned menus, shopped for groceries, made lists, washed and packed clothes. (I had to unpack most of them because we didn't have anything left in the drawers to wear.)
Eventually everything was stored in the basement playroom: The "Port-a-Crib," five boxes of groceries (there were no grocery stores on the island where we we staying),fishing gear,four large boxes of "Pampers," two ice chests, beach paraphernalia,and four pillowcases full of toys.
The eve of our departure finally arrived. I had checked my list (twice) and everything was in one area except the neatly packed suitcases which were open in the bedrooms. I failed to notice that the two-year-old had stayed in the basement.
As I was busy in the kitchen, the oldest son came to tell me that his baby brother was "playing in the groceries." He had found the family size tea bags and had ripped them all open.I ran downstairs, grabbed him, and decided it was his bedtime.The oldest son vacuumed the tea and the youngest son protested his early bedtime at the top of his lungs for an hour and a half before finally settling down. I began to feel somewhat in control of everything until I opened the door to my bedroom and found our suitcases completely empty with a big pile of clean, crumpled clothes on the floor.I knew who to blame. I yanked the unsuspecting baby from his crib, and made him pick up every article of clothing and put them back into the suitcases. I finally collapsed into bed, certain that nothing else could go wrong.
The next morning, Dad pulled the family STATION WAGON to the basement to pack the stuff we were taking. When he saw it he said,"I thought we were going on vacation, not having a yard sale!" (I didn't think that was funny.)Three hours later, I went to check on his progress. The children were running around, "helping" him load the car while I re-checked my list, and offered irrelevant advice and questioning the bumps and bulges in the soft car top carrier we had bought for this occasion. As my husband wiped sweat with one of the new beach towels, I reminded him there were three cantaloupes and a watermelon at the top of the basement stairs.
At that moment, I had one of those mother's intuition thoughts: The two-year-old had found the cantaloupes. I looked up the stairs just in time to see him looking like a baby "Atlas" holding the biggest one over his head.I jumped back just in time to avoid the orange explosion as the melon came bouncing and bursting down the stairs. Seeds, juice, and pulp went everywhere.
I don't remember how much later it was that we finally pulled out of the driveway, looking every bit like the Beverly Hillbillies. And believe me, if I could have, I would have been like Granny and been sitting in a rocking chair on top of the pile!"
Well...I don't know what to expect this year. I hope my daughters-in-law read this, because they will know that I can certainly relate to the efforts and planning that go into a family adventure like this. Sometimes family vacations are just that... for everyone BUT the Mommy. Can anybody say "Amen"?
This all brings back the memory that is indelibly burned in my mind of a family vacation we took when the boys were very young and I was the ONLY planner. This is how I recorded the memory in my journal:
"Our Family Vacation:Recipe for Disaster"
This year we decided to take a two-week family vacation. It was to be a special time for the whole family. Our youngest was two years old.
I began to make preparations for departure about a month in advance. I had planned menus, shopped for groceries, made lists, washed and packed clothes. (I had to unpack most of them because we didn't have anything left in the drawers to wear.)
Eventually everything was stored in the basement playroom: The "Port-a-Crib," five boxes of groceries (there were no grocery stores on the island where we we staying),fishing gear,four large boxes of "Pampers," two ice chests, beach paraphernalia,and four pillowcases full of toys.
The eve of our departure finally arrived. I had checked my list (twice) and everything was in one area except the neatly packed suitcases which were open in the bedrooms. I failed to notice that the two-year-old had stayed in the basement.
As I was busy in the kitchen, the oldest son came to tell me that his baby brother was "playing in the groceries." He had found the family size tea bags and had ripped them all open.I ran downstairs, grabbed him, and decided it was his bedtime.The oldest son vacuumed the tea and the youngest son protested his early bedtime at the top of his lungs for an hour and a half before finally settling down. I began to feel somewhat in control of everything until I opened the door to my bedroom and found our suitcases completely empty with a big pile of clean, crumpled clothes on the floor.I knew who to blame. I yanked the unsuspecting baby from his crib, and made him pick up every article of clothing and put them back into the suitcases. I finally collapsed into bed, certain that nothing else could go wrong.
The next morning, Dad pulled the family STATION WAGON to the basement to pack the stuff we were taking. When he saw it he said,"I thought we were going on vacation, not having a yard sale!" (I didn't think that was funny.)Three hours later, I went to check on his progress. The children were running around, "helping" him load the car while I re-checked my list, and offered irrelevant advice and questioning the bumps and bulges in the soft car top carrier we had bought for this occasion. As my husband wiped sweat with one of the new beach towels, I reminded him there were three cantaloupes and a watermelon at the top of the basement stairs.
At that moment, I had one of those mother's intuition thoughts: The two-year-old had found the cantaloupes. I looked up the stairs just in time to see him looking like a baby "Atlas" holding the biggest one over his head.I jumped back just in time to avoid the orange explosion as the melon came bouncing and bursting down the stairs. Seeds, juice, and pulp went everywhere.
I don't remember how much later it was that we finally pulled out of the driveway, looking every bit like the Beverly Hillbillies. And believe me, if I could have, I would have been like Granny and been sitting in a rocking chair on top of the pile!"
Well...I don't know what to expect this year. I hope my daughters-in-law read this, because they will know that I can certainly relate to the efforts and planning that go into a family adventure like this. Sometimes family vacations are just that... for everyone BUT the Mommy. Can anybody say "Amen"?
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