that crazy old woman in the shoe

There was an old woman who lived in a shoe. She had so many children, she didn't know what to do;
She gave them some broth without any bread;
Then whipped them all soundly and put them to bed.*

Wow, this was the fastest week! And I have been wanting to write and give everyone an update on how things are here in the Little House under the Big Trees all week--some of my postings in the past couple of weeks have alluded to some pretty challenging parenting moments and overall household negativity, and now that it is over (for now!), I thought it might be good to blog about it in case some of you were worried, and also to finish processing it in my own mind. So I have been writing, in fits and spurts, whenever I have a few free moments, and have been glad that if I have not had any brilliant new postings for your amusement, at least I seem to have my priorities in order. Work before pleasure, family before work! ; )

I have been meaning to write something since a week ago Thursday, when we had a really good day. I am saying we had the first even remotely good day in several weeks, and it was a really good one! For the first time in three weeks I had energy and was bustling around cleaning and enjoying feeling pretty healthy. For the first time in almost as long the girls had a whole day in which everyone had a good attitude and not a single ugly meltdown. We ended up not having any classes to go to that day, and so we stayed home and did school and cleaned. Being productive always feels good. 6 year old M had the task of vacuuming and dusting in the living room under and around our bed, and she took an hour to finish, and did a good job staying on task and not grumbling. Wow. (I love that the girls are getting old enough to really help out! The older I get, the harder it is to creep into all those low and tight spaces for cleaning! Nothin' like a houseful of helper monkeys at my beck and call! ; )

I should have posted that day, because it would have been one of those so joyful, praise God kind of posts, which I do miss. : )

That Friday, Sat and Sun were good too--and then WHAM came this past Monday, and an AWFUL day. The two younger kids were fine, but the two older ones completely melted down for no discernible reason, and each had periods of yelling, crying temper trantrums. Wow. Tuesday was also not as good, with daughter #3 acting up a little too. No temper trantrums, which was good, but girls arguing with one another and me, not being quick to obey, grumbling about their tasks, not being focused on their work.

To some of you, that may not seem like very poor behaviour, but I had been so enjoying the good days we had had previously that I was cracking down on the little insurgencies this week, so they wouldn't spiral down again into a worse cycle. Let me tell you, those past three weeks were awful: it seemed like every little thing I said to a child was instantly met with arguing and fussing, and they argued with each other, and did mean things to each other on purpose, and did the opposite of what they knew was right or had just been told to do, and seemed to spend every moment of every day choosing to use their mouths and hands and attitudes to generally make our home a yucky place. And I was sick for those weeks too, which just made everything so much harder. And D was working a lot, including over many evenings and weekends, so was not available to help parent much of the time. And the whole nap/class schedule is out of whack, so that I never had all the kids quiet at the same time during the day, so was not having any mental recharging time, which makes such a different in my parenting abilities in any normal day, let alone a rough day.

But the hardest thing was that all three girls were doing all this unpleasant behaviour at the same time, which has never happened before. They have each had their phases, but one girl lashing out in ugliness is managable--all three doing it at once was really, really something I was not prepared for. Seriously, I was like the old woman in the shoe, wondering, "Why, oh Lord, why???" and "What do I do now???!!!" And putting them to bed at 6:30 p.m. on at least one occassion.**

During those three weeks of misery, I yelled a lot. And probably set a horrible example of using our mouths to build up others in love. I know I was really grouchy--which is understandable since I was not feeling good and was chronically trapped in a houseful of unpleasant children with not even my own room to escape to for a few minutes. But it may be understandable, but is not excusable--as I am trying to teach the girls, whatever our circumstances are, we always have choices to make. And especially if I believe I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me, then there is no reason I cannot make the good choice, no matter how hard it is. I can choose to be patient and kind, forgiving and long-suffering--no matter how terrible my children are behaving.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.-- from I Corinthians Chapter 13, the "Love Chapter"

In fact, telling ourselves things like "They are making me angry" and "I can't help being mad" is just setting ourselves up for misery. Those are lies, lies we are accustomed to hearing all the time, so it is sometimes hard to recognize them for what they are--self-defeating prophecies. Eleanor Roosevelt once said, "No one can make you feel inferior without your permission." She meant that no one has the power to make us feel or think anything we don't want to. We are truly the masters our own minds, thoughts and feelings, which is both freedom and responsibility. When I tell my children, "You are making me so mad!" I am handing over to them a power and responsibility that is really mine. That is unfair to them, and is teaching them untruth that will affect how they accept responsibility for their own thoughts and attitudes and actions down the road.

So I am pretty good at not saying things like that, not speaking lies. But I know I still sometimes act like I believe the lies. That is where the true battle is, for me--not just maintaining the proper words but actually embodying the beautiful truths.

So actually, that old nursery rhyme perfectly illustrates why this week has been a really good week: unlike the old woman in the shoe, I was not completely at my wit's end with my children's negative behavior and so did not take out my frustration on them and punish them because it made me feel better momentarily (or somehow justified my anger) and banish them to bed because otherwise I would have wanted to strangle them. I have been that lady before--not recently, thank the Lord, but within the past year--and I hope never to be again. Even when the girls acted up at the start of this week, I managed to be pretty calm about it, and could help guide their choices instead of just harshly condemming them. That is a miracle--God at work in me, His love somehow coming through despite all my flaws, and covering us all with grace.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Like a hot tub soak for the soul, I tell you. And after three week of hellish home life, I needed that!

In case you did not know, there are lots of different versions of "The Old Woman Who Lived in the Shoe:"

But they basically boil down to two: the one where mama loses it and takes it out on the kids, or the one where she keeps her patience and cool and manages to help her children feel loved and safe even in her frustration. In both versions, "she didn't know what to do." And in both versions the kids end up in bed early. The difference is is how the old woman put them there.

I am probably always going to be an old lady in a little shoe with a lot of children! (well, speaking by modern standards) So I'll choose to make my shoe life like this last image--not the one I opened this blog with.

*According to smart-central.com, the 'Old Woman who Lived in a Shoe' referred to the British Empire trying to control its colonies. We think of the shape of Italy as a boot or shoe, but in this rhyme it’s the British Isles. The old woman was Parliament, who couldn't quite look after her many colonial children in the far-flung British Empire.

**Actually, there is nothing wrong with that--I remember that day it was a logical consequence for their choices. And putting them to bed so early allowed me to escape before I really did lose my sanity and do something inappropriate, and when they are in bed early they can talk in bed as long as they want and I don't care, so it is really a win-win solution. Much better to end the day early than end it in escalating sin.