God's art at the park

NOTE:  Park photos published in two posts, since Blogger was acting up on me.

Do you have a favorite day of the week?  Is it Saturday?  Mine is certainly not the weekend.  Husband works seventeen hours over the weekend, with some flexibility mind you, but it makes for a solo-parenting weekend marathon, with the studying thrown in there too.  

I used to dread Thursdays quite a bit.  Keeping the children quiet so Daddy could slept late after graveyard shift, has never been a welcome task.  But since we started going to the State Park near us on Thursdays, dread has quickly become delight!

Toddlers, for one thing, can't get into much trouble at the park.  My toddler singlehandedly keeps me running on empty most days, with little time to get nourishment even.  She only sleeps one hour during the day, necessitating an incredibly early bedtime--6 p.m.  Makes for a rushed evening, to say the least.  Instead of napping much, she sleeps longer at night than most of the napping-age set (although with short wake-ups still).  The twelve hours of night sleep mean that during the day, her body will only do one more hour, making her total sleep thirteen hours, which is normal.

These days I am physically exhausted by the time their staggered bedtimes come and go, spanning from 6:00 p.m. to 8:45 p.m..  Solo parenting will do that to you!  I actually need more sleep now, as a result.  I'm aware that my situation is not atypical and whatever my challenges, I'm blessed by these kids.  Make no mistake about that!  

So anyway, enough reflecting about how hard parenting can get in certain seasons.  

Back to a topic of pleasure.  The park.  It's a time of worship, a time of laughter, a time of wonder, a time of enjoying each other fully.  There is no discipline, no chores, no endless pile of dishes, no laundry, no spills, no toys, no meal prep, and no worrying about whether someone forgot to latch the yard gate, or the front door, or close the hallway doors.  There is no wondering how I'm going to cook with my toddler constantly getting into things, or how I'm going to keep up with the laundry when she keeps slamming the dryer door while I'm trying to process dry clothes.  She is every bit a blessing I can't bare to see grow up, and a Dennis-the-Menace who drives us all a bit batty.  All my other toddlers were good nappers, making this stage much easier!

A picture of what is to come, amidst a sea of green.

My children cannot get enough caterpillar metamorphosis!  I don't blame them really.  What compares to this lovely gift from God?

This year, thanks to my nature-loving son, I've learned all about tent caterpillars.  They do this to trees.  We have them housed in a plastic container, to which they've done the same thing.  My son is still captivated.  Mommy and Daddy are not.  But, whatever.

Beautiful, and a time I really need to know where that macro-shot button is on the camera. I keep forgetting to ask husband.

Sky art, by God.

These plants were teaming with butterflies.  See the one in the center?

My favorite flower color.  More of God's art.  The park is full of His work.  Every turn, every angle is a time of worship.  It surrounds us and we thirstily drink it in....take pictures, and then drink it in at home all over again.  Can't concentrate on your Bible or on prayer?  Go to a nature park, get into His presence, and then open your Bible and your heart.

It was getting too close to noon by this time.  Not a good time for picture taking.  The light is best in the morning and in the late afternoon.  Makes all the difference.

I love all the hues of green.  Something California never had to offer, even in the spring.

Baby wrens

The drive home.

about my day and some good links

The portfolio meeting was a blessing this morning.  Long drive--an hour both ways.  But well worth it!  My new credentialed teacher--with whom I must meet once a year to have her sign off on my children's portfolios--has ADHD, and one of her sons does as well.  She talked and talked at a frenetic pace on a variety of rapidly-changing topics.  I had to chuckle to myself.  It wasn't hard to see the ADHD!

During college she had to lock herself in the bathroom in her dorm and plug her ears, just so she could concentrate well enough to study.  Obviously, she learned to compensate for her condition.

She shared many tips, and it was very encouraging to hear how well her "unschooled" children are doing.  One son is in college with a mechanical engineering major, on scholarship, and her daughter is entering college this fall, also on scholarship.

Daddy stayed with the children here at home while I was away.  I arrived home at 11:15 a.m. and my baby was outside in her croc-like shoes, with her pajamas on.  And no, not because she escaped from an unlocked door.  My three-year-old was out in a summer skort, paired with an unmatching, long-sleeved fall shirt.  She dressed herself.

I walked into the house and there was stuff everywhere--all over the floors, the counters, the dining-room table.

Did I want to cry?  Yes.  Do I feel like crying every time I walk into my house, after having been gone an hour or two?  Yes.  But caring for four young children is overwhelming--this I well know.  I don't actually expect anything to get done.  It's still shocking to walk in though, and see how much work is ahead of me.  It usually takes me a couple hours (often-interrupted hours) to set things somewhat right.  Things are never quite right, mind you, even on the best of days.  And they're never perfect.  Perfect is not even on my radar.

Momma:  "Why is Beth in her pajamas?"

Daddy:  "I didn't know what else to put on her.  If you want something in particular on her, just lay it out and I'll put it on."

Alrighty then.

No, he was not being sarcastic--he's rarely ever sarcastic.  But he does march to his own drum proudly, not caring to conform.

There is a reason his PA friends told him, upon hearing about his impending move to California:  "Man, your clothes will never make it in California!"

Um, yeah.  They meant that he has no style.  No standards.  Hence, a baby playing outside in pajamas doesn't faze him.

Dear Lord, if I am called home to Heaven before I finish raising my children, please send my husband a new wife.  Pronto!

The good news?  He unloaded the dishwasher.  See? He's an awesome husband, friends.  I don't mean to imply otherwise.  The children were all fed and happy.

Peter noticed that Beth was in her pajamas.  "I told him Beth needed to be dressed, Mommy."

Some good links:

Ann, from A Holy Experience, writes beautifully about how a mother and wife should prioritize her time.  So often we spend time on the things that are seen, so that we look good, instead of on the things that are unseen, but pleasing to the Lord.  (Do the pajamas count in this?  I don't think so.  :)

Michelle, from The Adventures of Mommy Missionary, writes thoughtfully about being on bedrest after surgery, and what it has taught her about her usual frenetic pace.  A fast-paced life is not pleasing to the Lord!  Read to find out why.

Jasmine, an impressive young lady of 20, authors the blog Joyfully At Home.  Her post The Cinderella Syndrome, encourages us to serve joyfully in our homes.  Her writing is quite lovely and persuasive.  She definitely has the gift of exhortation!