Fog Days, Nerf Wars, and Messy Beds

I'm not going to deny that I was happy to reset my alarm and roll over for some extra sleep, when my husband informed me at 5:28 this morning that the kids had a fog delay.  Yes, you heard me right:  fog delay. It happens out here.  We live in the country and it's perfectly flat for miles.  When there is fog, it just sits for hours.  Buses can't move along more than 20 mph.  The two-hour delay turned to three and then turned to a "fog day".  This happens!  After my rowdy kids woke up the baby and I realized I really wasn't getting any extra winks, my happiness wore off just a tad.  

You know, I was supposed to have a few quiet moments, in between loads of laundry and during my baby's nap, to read.  And I know I was supposed to write completely mostly uninterrupted...with only one baby to occupy during that time, rather than baby plus four happy-to-be-home kids.  My plans changed!  

One of the first things I encountered when I went to my room after breakfast (well, after my kids ate breakfast), was a messed-up bed.  

I make my bed almost immediately after I roll out of it, so I don't love seeing it a mess an hour later.  But you know what, today I didn't care. In fact, it made me smile!  I snapped the picture to remind myself later--on days when I just might forget.  It made me smile because I heard what went on to cause my rumpled bedspread.

My boys had played a fierce game of Nerf-gun wars just before I came upstairs.  They squealed, laughed, screamed, jumped, ran (apparently onto my bed...or under the covers), and generally had a fantastic time of it!  As I re-made my bed, I considered whether my reaction should have been to teach them to respect other's property and belongings, and make them fix my bed.  But by this time, they were on to the next bout of energetic fun.  And I realized:  sure, I could lecture them or make them fix the mess they made, but I would rather re-make my bed ten times a day if it meant they were having a blast and enjoying each other's company.  Because in many families, that is rare.  And I don't want to squelch it.  Besides, if I shut my bedroom door, their war-zone square footage is greatly decreased.  And well, that's just not as much fun!

What took place next, after I allowed them to play, rather than harping at them for messing up mama's bed?  They went outside together.  They fed worms to our chickens (sorry if that picture isn't appetizing to you!); they played a competitive game of knock-out basketball; then they played catch for a half hour.  And now?  It is clearly time for another Nerf-gun war!  

I love that they are playing together!  Seriously, I think had I fussed about my bed and communicated "appropriate ground rules", they would have felt defeated and frustrated...and given up the idea of playing altogether.  We mamas can unintentionally inhibit our children from great play and enjoyment.  Oh that we would lighten up sometimes!  Yes, I am that crazy, possibly irresponsible mom who has allowed her kids to jump on beds and off of bunks beds.  I let them play outside when it is drizzling and chilly.  And I don't faithfully correct potty-talk.  I think life (the youthful, playful, innocent child's life) is too daggone short!  I want to them be allowed to goof off, be rowdy, and get messy...although admittedly, I don't love it when my 5-year-old runs out to play in a soggy yard wearing her brand new shoes.

Honestly, any time I catch my kids playing together happily, without my direction or coaxing, my mama's heart is so delighted.  I don't know if anything in this world brings me more joy.

Sometimes plans change.  Sometimes my quiet day full of baby snuggles, a couple cups of coffee, laundry, reading, and semi-uninterrupted writing turns into ruckus, messes, and mayhem...and more coffee is required to survive it at all!  But it is a gift.  One day, my bed will remain neatly made all day...but I sure will miss the squeals and the laughter of these fog days.  Today, my greatest delight is that my plans changed.  Outside, it is still completely foggy.  And inside, those boys of mine are once again at war--Nerf war, that is.

Linking up today with Holley Gerth and Jennifer Dukes Lee

A Little Child Shall Lead Them

She rattled off her list of six; she scribbled them on paper and placed them front and center on the fridge, with a tacky magnet holding it in place.  Her list of six.  Six friends she would invite.  Six friends to whom she would send invitations.  Six friends she hoped would come.  

I learn so much more from my children than they learn from me.  I am confident of this.  They teach me love, grace, joy, and forgiveness each day.  This one in particular.  This tough child of mine.  This one I wrestle with more than any other.  This one I cry over.  This one for whom I seek God's wisdom and direction in how best to love, guide, discipline, and simply enjoy.  How do I best extend love and grace to her?  She is the one I wrestle with.  How ironic!  She is the one I named mercy and grace.  She is the one who teaches me mercy and grace, through big and small struggles, every day.

Six friends she would invite.  And one of the six?  She was the one my daughter cried over for two years.  She was the one we had conversation after conversation, about how to love.  She was the one I reminded my daughter to love and pray for....despite.  She was the one who unleashed unkind words and told my daughter that oh no! she wasn't invited to play with them!  And now, the one who unknowingly caused such pain...she was invited.  By my daughter, full of fiery emotions and an iron-strong will.  By my daughter, full of mercy and grace.  My Ella Grace had completely forgiven.  Had possibly forgotten.  And had unhesitatingly chosen and invited.

I learn so much more about God's love from my children than I could ever hope to teach them.  And this one whom I've lost countless hours of sleep over?  She has taught me the most.  

It seems much like my struggles.  Like my broken and ugly places.  The parts I don't want to look at.  The parts I don't want anyone else to see.  The ones that have kept me up at night.  The ones that have brought unrelenting tears.  The ones I have no idea how to fix or change or manage.  Those are the struggles that have taught me the most.  Those are the struggles that have landed me on my face, begging for God's divine assistance.  Those are the struggles God has used to reveal his nature and his love toward me.

My daughter forgave, forgot, and invited.  I know another who did that.  And not because I deserved it either.  Yet, I am free to come to him at any time, because he forgave, forgot, and invited me.  My God loved me so much that despite all the mess and mistakes he knew I would make in my life, He offered the greatest gift.  And no matter what gift her friend may bring to the party, my daughter has already given the greater gift.  She forgave, she forgot, and she invited.  

I'm not qualified to teach much of anything through what I write or what I say.  I am the student.  I am constantly messing up this parenting thing--I'm not gonna lie--but God's gift to me, in my children, is astounding.  I am reminded of his promise:  and a little child shall lead them.*

Isaiah 11:6
I'm having Coffee For Your Heart today with my friend Holley Gerth

I'm also linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee