Do you get stir crazy in winter? We do. But thankfully we have these super spiral stairs that double as a jungle gym. My kids find alternate uses for just about any apparatus* around, including the walls, couches, mattresses, even the dog. They stave off the winter blues by finding creative ways to enjoy/destroy whatever is at hand. Likewise, when my son clambered up the outside of the playground tube slide, my brother (an elementary school principal/authority on child behavior) commented, “There’s more than one way to enjoy that slide.” I liked that attitude. Obviously, it’s crept into my parenting too. But this kind of creativity is, I confess, born of necessity. You see, we don’t have cable TV. So next time you see a couch cusion or a pot lid, think battle gear, think obstacle courses, think of the messes you can spend all winter cleaning up. I thank God for these stairs that avail much.
*”apparatus” was a spelling word we had last month. I could not, for the life of me, think of a way to use it in a sentence… until now!
This is me doing Algebra II with Tory, who refuses to have her picture taken (she would be to the right). Notice the birds on my back and arm. They are waiting for me to die so they can eat me. The cat is hoping I’ll survive the lesson on experimental data equations so that I’ll continue to feed him and give him milk every morning. He’s also hoping the birds don’t notice his stealthy presence and his plan to pounce shortly. I know all this because this is our routine (and the kids assure me it’s not distracting at all to their education/concentration). Luke likes to put the birds on me, as he doesn’t want them to poo on him. A really gross fact is that they usually like to sit in my hair while we’re schooling. But their little feet tickle, so I take the good with the bad. I think that’s how I survive Algebra II every morning too. Good with the bad… good with the bad…
A mom I know was about to administer some discipline (aka the rod of correction) to her 6-year-old when he cried out, “Stop!”
Alarmed at his sudden and unusually-timed outburst, she paused and asked, “What’s wrong?”
“We have to pray for you to get some patience.” He informed her.
So I applied this to myself (after laughing uproariously). Whenever I get corrected, I’m hoping and contending that it’s the Authority who needs to change, not me. If that’s the attitude, repentence is MIA.
Did she pray for patience? Yes. Did the little guy get a pardon because of his humorous and wily plea? Not a chance.