Our seedlings

Todd gets excited for spring planting when the first seed catalogues start arriving in February.  (This is some slick marketing going on, tell you what.  One year he had to replant three times because he started so early, pumped up by all the propaganda in our mailbox.)  By March he’s got seedlings sprouting.

Come April they’re ready for a little sunbath every other day or so. Just half an hour for starters.  To get them used to such bright light.  They’re accustomed to the sheltered light of our house, their cozy spot next to our window under their special heat lamp/light.  I suppose I’m used to having our dining area as a makeshift greenhouse this time of year.  Usually we have rows of identical boxes on a homemade wooden bench, but this year we have a tall metal rack with wheels, akin to what the bakery I used to work in nestled their loaves on.  This big guy stretches out wide and tall to take in all our window light right next to the table we eat all our meals at.  An ideal set-up.  For some.  Apparently for us.

So my job in the afternoons is to wheel the cart out on our deck and let these youngish plants just take in their surroundings.  To soak up some non-diffused sunlight.  To feel the wind in their leaves.  Kind of reminds me of my yoga poses with one leg straight up behind me, arms up high, balancing on my remaining limb, reaching sun-ward.  Forcing me to try to center.  But of course I wobble, it’s hard work keeping things tight and altogether.  And I imagine it’s a similar workout for these young plants, their stems and leaves exposed to the harsh realities of life outside as they, too, reach for the sun.

Which makes me think about our little human seedlings.  More hardy than wispy now, but still in our care, just like our garden growths on our bakery rack.

In fact, this reminds me of a conversation I had with a friend this week about something similar, the attachment theory (I know, random), which basically says when infants form good relationships with their parents, they’re more secure and grounded in their relationships as adults. 

“A theory that describes the dynamics of long-term relationships between humans, starting with the earliest age when an infant needs to develop a relationship with at least one caregiver. It explains significance of the parents' relationship with the child to achieve normal social and emotional development." (Science Dictionary)

It just got me thinking how raising kids and plants are so similar, how God’s pattern shows us how best to do both.  And when they are nurtured in the beginning, given thoughtful care and attention, they both are free to grow into what they were meant to become.  Secure in their roots, confident in their destiny.

Both are coddled in the beginning, tucked in small blankets of dirt or cloth in a tiny singular pot or bed.  Fed small amounts of liquid at consistent intervals.  A secure start to be sure.  In the beginning not much happens.  All they do is sleep, and we’re left to wonder if our freshly-planted seed or newly-born baby will ever open its eyes.  Until one day you barely notice its little green start just peeking above the layer of blackish potting soil.  Your baby staring back at you, one day you see her noticing her hands or turning toward sound, staying awake for longer periods, taking in the world a bit at a time.  Still safe in their cocooned worlds, warm and protected, even as both baby and seed begin to explore in small ways.

But eventually both our seedlings and infants need and long for exposure to the outside world.  In small doses.  A walk with mom, securely bundled up in the stroller or back pack for the first few months.  A blanket for extra comfort.  Later she can sit up a bit on her outings  The blanket drags, catching the wheels, she doesn’t rely on its security as much these days.  Eventually he can walk the path at the zoo holding onto dad’s pointer finger, and before long he feels confident enough to take off on his own.  Carefree, somehow knowing his grownup will be there watching out for him.  Like the plants I pull into the daylight in small doses, allowing them freedom to experience the world’s touch, but never leaving them on their own for long.

In a million different ways we parents teach our kids almost without realizing it, in the same way we "harden" our young plants.  We permit them both to experience light and rain, soft breezes and sudden gusts.  The process is gradual and over time we lengthen or intensify the exposure, bringing them back into our care after a short period of maybe a morning at preschool or a 15 minute sunbath on the back porch.   Nothing overwhelming, just a starting point.  But seeds and kids adjust and eventually they're used to school and being in the fresh air.

Like most of you, we’ve taken our kids camping since they were babies, just letting them feel the outdoors becoming second-nature to them, but pulling them back in the tent and wrapping them up warmly overnight.  Then on to father-son campouts, exposing them a bit more to the cooking and setting up camp, their leaves reaching out, still safe with dad close by, like our seedlings’ afternoon sunbath.  Eventually they’re off on their own to scout camp for a week, independent, out for most of the day.  My favorite is when they take off to the mountains with their friends.  Enjoying the full sun, a little wind, but surely stronger for the exposure.

We might teach them to cook or clean or take care of the yard in the same way.  Letting them hold the measuring spoon as we load it up with baking soda.  Having them scoop dough balls on cookie sheets.  Letting them swish the toilet cleaner with the brush.  Riding the lawn mower, then steering while dad pushes the gas.  Eventually they start mowing for the neighbors, learn to work the mixer and to clean the whole bathroom.  Before long, they’re making the cookies for the bake sale.  We all start teaching our kids in small ways, we figuratively put the plants on the deck when they’re little, helping them acclimate to their future existence.  But we’re close by, keeping an eye on things, ready to swoop in if a strong gust or downpour comes out of nowhere, a flooded toilet, a burn on the wrist, cookie dough too stiff to stir, a lawnmower belt that needs to be replaced.  We wouldn’t leave them alone in this important transitional time.  We let them try the real world for a bit, but we never plant them before their time.  

There comes a day when our little seedings are ready.  When they need to be planted out in the garden, far from the house, away from the tempered conditions of our home.  As we planned from the beginning.

And so just as we prepare the garden boxes each spring, turning the soil, adding compost from the winter, we made sure our college-aged son had what he needed for the upcoming season: bedding, cooking utensils, enough food to start with.  It goes without saying that there’s an adjustment period, regardless of how dedicated we were to the conditioning process.  It’s a bit of a shock to be in new surroundings, to be so far from the sheltered porch and warm home life.  Some plants—and some young adults—flounder.  Some don’t make it at all.  And some parents and gardeners keep their plants and kids within arm’s reach way too long, mistakenly thinking that they are nurturing them better this way.  They fail to realize that what makes them strong is giving them room to grow.  The freedom to become what they were meant to be.  A chance to see what they’re made of.

Of course we check on our plants regularly, just as we touch bases with our son in college. We weed around our freshly planted sprouts, likewise helping our young ones—both at home and away—determine which new ideas they’ve been exposed to are worth keeping and which ones really ought to be plucked. We fertilize and give a little extra help as needed.  We water when they seem to ask for it, but we also rely on the rain from above and wisdom of other adults that seem to come out of nowhere, usually when we feel most desperate for the extra nourishment on our seedlings’ behalf.

We gradually leave them more and more on their own.  Our older kids are pretty self-sufficient by this point and rarely need much more from us than a little water, a good talk, a hug.  They’re like our potato plants, generally strong and healthy with large shade leaves, a conscience.  By the time the leaves and moral compass are this developed, the plant is pretty much on its way.  But now and then there's a stray weed that pops up, even under the cover of the great shade leaves, even with all the teachings and character lessons throughout the years.  It may be an off thought, a misjudgment, a perplexing question, a tough habit or unusual weed with tenacious roots.  But nothing that can’t be handled with the Gardener’s help.  A potato plant knows what it needs to do.  And so do our kids.  

Eventually these plants and kids produce works of their own, potatoes, degrees, food, service… seedlings that have grown up seemingly overnight.  At least now as we look back.  It seemed so slow in the beginning.  We could hardly wait for them to wake up.  And then we could hardly keep them watered and fed sufficiently.  Before we knew it, it was time to plant them in their own garden beds, time to not necessarily say goodbye, but knowing the engagement would lessen, our part would diminish.  The rest would, in large part, be up to them.

We know by now that the onions will be fine.  The rhubarb is an independent sort, hardly needing us at all.  The raspberries flourish without any interference from us either.  But others need us more as they transition from the home life to their own garden plot.  Like the tomatoes who still need to be tethered to a stake while they’re just starting out.  Flowers who need to be deadheaded, kids who still have some habits to shed, we’re here to help them out.  We always kind of wonder about the peppers.  We try to touch bases with them pretty regularly, ascertaining that they're getting enough water, making sure they aren’t overwhelmed by slugs.  For the most part, plants and kids at this age are pretty much on the path to what they’ll become.  There’s not a whole lot we can do to change things at this point.  But we still check up on them.  That’s what gardeners and parents do.

My mother's daughter

As I was hanging sheets to dry over the stair railings one Saturday morning I out of the blue recalled my mom doing the exact same thing.  I don’t know why I hadn’t remembered till now.  I think she does it so they aren’t wrinkly; she’s even been known to iron her sheets.  I do it to save energy, no point using a dryer in Montana.  I know we look like white trash when I spread them all over our front porch, but everything’s crisp and done within the hour, so it’s not like they’re hanging out all day.  Plus, no one really ever comes to our house.  When it’s too cold outside I’ll put them inside on the railings, just like my mom.  We both hang up the majority of our clothes while they’re still damp, just saves them wearing out so fast and we just like to save a little where we can.  Habit I guess.  I’ve been doing laundry with my mom since I was in elementary school, I guess I just picked up some things along the way.

In so many ways, I’m sure just like you, I sometimes feel like my mom in the way I mother and run the house.  I see her in the mirror and in my mannerisms.  I hear her in my voice and in the phrases that come out when I least expect them.  I suppose some is inherited and some is just from living together for so many years.  But in a million myriad ways, it’s evident we’re more than just friends.

I feel like her when I reach for my gift boxes on the high shelves of my closet and the ribbon and tissue come out from the box under my bed—my make-shift gifting station.  My mom is constantly putting together little gifts for people and has more ribbon and gift bags and tags than anyone I know.  She remembers everyone’s birthday and baby and graduation and wedding and special occasion a person may celebrate.  She spends part of a day at Hallmark each month gathering her cards and writing them for the upcoming month.   Her personal assortment of notecards gives Hallmark a run for its money, so I’m not sure why she still shops for them when she has so many at home.  But her selections are choice, perfectly suited to every situation and personality she sends them for.

Like I said, she and I can’t help but fill our bedroom closets with good finds we’ve come upon along the way.  Since we both love to shop.  I’ve lost most of my stamina for it over the years (except if we’re at a thrift store or garage sale), but she still shops with gusto.  I love her excited voice on the phone telling me all the good deals she’s gotten.  I’m the same, itemizing amazing finds in my weekly letter home.  We can hardly help ourselves.  Shopping is in our blood.  And our wares continue fill up boxes in our closets.

Since we’re talking about closets, it may be because she has so many, but she’s always been so breezy with the way she’s lent us her clothes.  Even now when I visit I don’t stress if I’ve forgotten anything, she’s got three closets I can rifle through at my leisure whether I need a hoodie or pair of sandals.  I find myself just as nonchalant about lending clothes these days, although I was the complete opposite as a teen.  Avery’s constantly in my closet borrowing tank tops and fleece tights and slips and socks and sweaters.  I love it, the more wear we get out of these clothes the better!  I’m so glad my mom has always been like that and relieved that it eventually rubbed off on me.

We both love silver jewelry—she’s got a bigger flare for metal than me—but there’s nothing like a great pair of huge silver earrings, and the bolder the necklace, the better.  At least for her.  But I’m happy to borrow when I visit.  She’s got great taste in jewels, and I always followed my mom’s ways even back in elementary school, careful to always remember my earrings. Funny though, neither one of us have really worn our original wedding rings.  She continues to switch out ones she likes better, and I’ve been over diamonds for years now, they just protrude and get in the way.  Which makes it easier when it comes to lotioning our hands.  Because of her, I now even have lotion in my kitchen.  And tiny jars and tubes all over the house and purse.  She is the softest lady I know.  And I find myself automatically rubbing cream into my just-washed hands when I come out of the Costco bathroom.  Just like her.

I feel like they’re her hands sometimes.  Especially when I’m sitting quietly at church or the temple.  The way I fold them, the way they’re shaped, the way I move them.  I feel like I’m my mom.  Bouncing the kids in the pool while they sit on my legs takes me back in time.  She never really swam with us, she was mostly on the side with her legs dangling.  But as a mom I can appreciate that now.  But it’s weird to feel like I’m looking at her legs when I’m sitting on the side of the pool.  She and I both have had issues with our legs.  As my younger version, I hated my big calves.  And she refuses to wear shorter skirts because of the way her legs look.  I’m sure we’re not alone, moms and daughters sharing similar shapes and concerns.  I see the same expressions on my face when I look at pictures of her at the same ages, as a teen and young mom.  Freckles, dark hair, pale skin, blue eyes.  Like a reflection in so many ways.  We both went gray somewhat early.  I look at her hair and hope that’s how mine will be someday.  She colored hers for years; I’m just at the beginning, but I can see where this is heading.  Just interesting to see what I might look like down the road.

To ward off aging for as long as possible, we’ve used Mary Kay for years and years.  I remember her promise to me at twelve, watching her get ready one day, “If you use this, you will never have wrinkles.”  Maybe my problem was waiting till I was 18 before I got serious about skin care.  But we’re still fans and I love knowing if I forget mine when I travel, she’s got my back.  Same with any beauty-getting-ready implement known to woman.  Her collection could rival any make-up artist.  I love getting ready for the day in her huge bathroom together.  She is as generous as they come, and any tool or hair or body or face product she owns is communal property.  Lipstick is our favorite beauty item hands down.  She has more tubes than anyone I know and neither one of us will even go for our walks without it.  It’s just the way it is.  I must’ve picked that up along the way.

When we finally move from getting ready to eating, she makes me laugh.  She’s got a chocolate in her cheek from the moment she wakes up, and Todd teases her mercilessly about it.  So we’re a little different there (she hates that I don’t love chocolate the way she does, with the exception of See’s), but we eat the same things, fruit, thick whole wheat bread, yogurt, Wheatabix, Raisin Bran.  Neither one of us has ever been into pancakes or waffles or French Toast.  It’s the same when we pack our lunches for the day.  I can’t help but remember back to my elementary school days and her asking me to put some grapes and Wheat Thins in a bag for her when she was getting ready for her job at the bank.  I pack myself the same kinds of things 30 years later as I’m leaving for my day.  We’re creatures of habit and when we’re at a conference we like the same kinds of sandwiches on textured bread, tomatoes, carrots, raspberries, with cottage cheese and grapes topping the list.  Mint brownies and BYU ice cream are at the very top of the list.  Right under See’s peanut crunch, bordeaux, and butterscotch squares.  Which we can eat by the bagful.  We’re so bad.  The sweeter, the better.

But we also like to make our own sweets.  I’ve tried a million recipes, but I’m drawn to the lemon bars I grew up with, her version of KBars, mocha cookies, and caramel brownies.  How can you go wrong?  She’s made trays and plates every year at Christmas ever since I was young enough to eat the leftovers.  I like to make cookies and treats too, I just prefer to spread it out over the year.  It would stress me out to do what she does.

But when it comes to energy for cleaning and weeding, I’m on par.  I’m faster, but she’s more thorough.  A good team.  She taught me to keep a tidy car and to take everything out when we went inside.  We’d ritualistically clean our cars—inside and out—every Saturday morning in the parking lot of our apartment where we lived during all my growing-up years.  She continues to have one of the tidiest cars and yards and houses I’ve ever seen.  And we're constantly organizing and paring down our collections.  (And those of anyone else who will let us in!)  Her books are what get her in trouble though, boxes, bookshelves, and shelves loaded down in every spare room of the house.  I love it.  And follow suit.

We have a hard time getting to the ones we own though—we’re much more likely to read them if we borrow them from a friend or library with a looming deadline.  She and my sisters and I are drawn to the same non-fiction, behind-the-scenes types.  Stories of people who overcame great odds.  Different cultures and difficult time periods.  We’re suckers for a good romance, but we love to learn more than anything.  Sometimes (most of the time) I feel like these are the only women in the world who get me.  Who I don’t have to pretend to like the mainstream stuff around.  I just know they’ll want to read whatever I’ve most recently fallen in love with.  Barnes and Noble is a weakness like no other for all of us, and the library is one of the most comfortable places in our world.  She’d take us so many Saturday mornings growing up, and I’d bring home a teetering pile of Beverly Clearys and Judy Blumes to get me through the week.  As a mom myself I’ll easily fill up four bags bulging with picture books and chapter books for the week ahead and I’m still dealing with overdue fines.  A small price to pay really.  Reading is our favorite hobby in the world.  Unfortunately we’re not that fast.  We both get sleepy.  She doesn’t want to miss a word, and we almost never read during the day.  Except for the paper, which she is fastidious about reading.  One of our favorite things in the world is the morning paper with toast and jam.

Speaking of mornings, that’s about the only time of the day we’re really good.  We wane as the day goes on, and we’re about out of juice by early evening.  Although we can make it to about 9 if we try hard.  We get up with the birds and like to get out and weed or go for our walk or putter.  This is when we have energy to do the bathrooms, start the laundry, and mop the floor.  We are coherent, with it, and ready for action.  About the complete opposite at 7 p.m.  I follow not only her pattern of wakefulness, but of washing the sheets and towels and bathrooms every Friday.  I do laundry twice a week, just like she’s always done.  Starting early, early in the morning.

I don’t know that either of us feels really competent at anything but cleaning, but we are happy to do our part in small ways.  We’ll forever be part of the church choirs.  I’d accompany her back when I was a teen to Sunday morning practices and she taught me that, even if we weren’t front and center, this was a small way we could contribute.  Cooking and having people over is as second-nature as stopping at See’s when we’re in the mall.  Not that we’re experts, more like it’s just not that stressful to us.  She’s the one who got me in the habit of writing home every week once I moved away, a tradition I saw her start as a young mother far away from her family back in Scotland.  Every Sunday evening it seemed she’d get out that crinkly stationery and her Air Mail stamps, and I carry on the tradition, composing my letter every Sunday morning as well.  Nothing that really stands out about either of us as far as talents or strengths, but we’re both good with blending in, helping in the background. We’re happy and content with our small contributions.  (Speaking of donations, one guess what group my sisters and I get return address labels from.  Disabled veterans.  Her charity of choice.  And likewise ours.)  

Maybe part of our contentment stems from having blossomed a little later in life than most as far as our confidence goes.  Once you get into your forties, little seems to ruffle you, and it’s awesome to be over that hump.  I, like her, find myself less and less burdened with guilt and the weight of what others think. But that took some time.  We were both quiet, shy, reserved, and obedient as young girls and women.  But as we’ve gotten older we’ve become more assertive and self-assured.  Her confidence grew in part because she moved to a new country all on her own as a very young adult.  She worked her way up in the bank and had to manage various branches over the years, as well as a home and family, so she had to learn to take charge.  I guess mine grew steadily over time too, but not necessarily because of work. I guess I just stopped worrying about myself so much and started thinking more about what was going on with other people.  No self-esteem course will do as much for a person as just looking around and figuring out what you can do to help people.  I think that’s basically what my mom learned from working in the bank: solving problems, human relations, trying to see another’s point of view.  Her confidence knows no bounds the older she gets and I find her talking to people wherever we go, pulling their life stories out of them and sharing her own. Before long they may have exchanged email addresses, shared family photos (and definitely a few laughs) and maybe even a parting hug.  I feel myself drawn to people in the same way largely because of her example.  Except, unlike her, my new friends and I might wind up crying together, two strangers who’ve become sisters in a matter of minutes.  She makes a point to walk over and talk to the one who seems lonely or outcast.  A powerful example and reminder to do the same.  She thoughtfully remembers those who might need a pick-me-up.  She’s always bringing left-overs and treats to her friends and neighbors, a reminder to me to look around and see who could use a little something.  And so when you’re doing things like that, there’s little time for wallowing or wondering if people like you.  Who cares?  You’re too busy for such pitiful thinking.  I love that about her.

I don’t remember her ever sitting down with me and giving me advice as a kid.  I’ve asked for it the older I’ve gotten, and sometimes it’s unsolicited.  I think she just has more time now.  Or maybe I need it more now.  But I’m ok with that.  Like most things in life, she and I are happy to be offered anything from leftover salad and the flowers from a church dinner or funeral to hand-me-down tablecloths and frames from a friend who’s moving. We’ll take it all home, mull it over, keep what works and pass on the rest.  No hurt feelings either way.  No point in wasting.  She’s constantly bringing me her collections from the people she cleans for or friends who are decluttering.  I love that she’s like that and has taught me to do the same without us ever talking about it.  I guess I’m like most people and would rather see how things are done than to be told.  And so as I’ve watched my mom over the years, whether consciously or not, I notice I’ve picked up on a few of her habits. 

In a million ways I feel she’s shaped who I am.  In some ways good, some not so good. Our sweet teeth have all been filled with silver, which unfortunately still doesn’t deter us from eating way too many cookies, and it’s so embarrassing to wake ourselves up snoring during a movie.  We get quiet when we’re mad and refuse to talk about whatever it is we say you didn’t do.  We’ve been known to slam cupboards, but mostly we just brood.  We’re two of the most stubborn women I’ve ever met, and we say Hell’s Bells more than we should.  We’re really not all that kid-friendly and we prefer to let others drive and make the decisions.  We avoid figuring out our phones and cameras for as long as we can and are not the least bit fun when it comes to water or amusement parks.  But if you’re sad we will cook you up something special to melt your troubles away.  We’ll talk your ear off if you have the time and stamina.  Especially about our latest non-fiction or thrift-store finds.  We’ll weed your garden with you and be happy to come help you clean.  Or maybe even do it for you as a surprise.  Even on vacation.  We will of course curl up and watch romantic movies with you and leave the housework for later if you want.  Even though there's a pretty good chance we'll fall asleep before long.  We will never be the type to pass up dessert because of some diet, are you kidding?  We will indulge right along with you.  We will go on long walks with you and leave a little treat near your door just because we love you and think it might make you happy.  We will send you love notes and thank you notes and cards and coupons and articles and anything else we see that makes us think of you.  We almost can’t even help ourselves.  I may think, now that I’m a mother too, that I’ve cut the apron strings, become my own self, grown up, whatever.  But no matter how I look at it, she is inherently in every part of who I am.  There’s just no getting around it.  I am, after all, my mother’s daughter.

A sick day

My grandma had one of those cots I’d never seen before and haven’t ever seen since.  Maybe left over from World War II?  Except it seemed made for granddaughters.  Just my size.  White canvas with wooden fold-out legs.  Grandma made the most comfortable bed ever.  With a thin pink flannel blanket flanked by a puffy pad underneath me and a thick lead-apron-weighted wool blanket on top.  What warmth!  What rapture!  It was almost worth being sick for.

A far cry from the nurse’s office.  But even now that seems quaint to the point that I might like a second peek.  An entire infirmary just for kids.  With apothecary jars and old-fashioned mercury-laden thermometers.  A small bed like my grandma’s but not a cot.  Colder sheets, more sterile.  A temporary holding area, healing would not happen here.  This was a place better than the classroom but inferior to a home.  A place to still be brave but where you could let your guard down a little better than in the classroom.  I don’t know that schools have entire nurse’s offices quite like these any more.  It’s been awhile.  How would I know?

Most of the time that cocoon arrangement at my grandma’s was reserved for sleep-overs.  She lived half an hour away and it was easier for my dad to come get us if we felt sick, but sometimes she was our savior.  There was nothing like seeing your grown-up, familiar and safe, at school.  Just for you.  A rescuer, your life-line.  Knowing you were just minutes away from not having to be strong and brave any more.  You would be able to let your sickest self show soon.  And it would get Better. He’d make us a bed on the cutting table of his upholstery shop.  And soup from those little packets.  He stood sentinel as he continued to cover chairs and couches while we rested and recuperated to the din of his sewing machine.

As comforting as those memories are, it is so much more rewarding to be on the grown up side when someone needs convalesing.  That’s a truism for life, so much more gratifying to give than receive.  There is no parental task quite as nurturing as tending to an invalid.  The time from the school’s phone call until you can get to your ailing child seems to play out in slow motion.  You can hardly drive fast enough.  I remember once being in the temple and coming out to voice messages from the school saying Bronwyn (9) was sick.  How regretful that I hadn’t been there for her!  But how was I to know?  Our kids call maybe once a year for sickness; it just doesn’t happen to be our trial. But when the call comes, I long to swoop up my new patient and am ever so relieved when I finally pull into the parking lot.  (But being in the school office kind of makes me feel like a little kid again.  Even though I'm there all the time.  It’s still weird to be this old.  To be the grown-up.  I know, I really need to just get over it.)  Maybe it’s especially because it could never be my mom who'd come when we were sick (she worked in a bank and it made more sense for my dad or grandma to come), but I can’t help but feel overwhelmingly grateful to be the one to pick up my ailing children.

Our ten year-old hadn’t been quite himself one morning earlier this spring.  Quieter.  Suspiciously quieter.  With breaks to rest on the couch before school.  But only intermittently.  So we sent him to school, knowing I would be just across the hall in the library if he needed to go home.  I checked on him occasionally, communicating through sign language, asking how he was.  At some point I needed to leave.  I had told a friend I’d go visit her, but I would be just around the corner from school if he needed me.  As these things go, I was there maybe half an hour before I recognized the school number on my phone.  I  hated to leave my friend, but I was also thrilled that I was available, that it was so effortless for me to pick up my son, that I’d be right there for him in just under three minutes.  Trust me, I realize what a luxury it is.

You know how it is when you finally get home, you just want to be tucked in nice cool sheets, the perfect blend of warmth and refreshment.  I darkened the room, got water, and left him to rest.  I tried to think of what to feed an ailing child.  White bread I’ve heard.  We never really have that.  But we do almost always have applesauce. And bananas.  I wish I’d thought to stock up on those little soup packets.  I never really use canned soup, but that’s the first thing you think of on occasions like these.  No Saltines.  We never even have any juice in our house (although I have to admit, I have bought frozen oj on the past two trips to Costco for our smoothies—I know).  And you can imagine how much soda we have in the house.  We live far enough away from town to dismiss the idea of running to the store.  But we make do.  I actually love putting together a little assembly of apple sauce and toast, things that go down easy and that can sit by his bed for awhile without rotting.  I might need to create some sort of Sick Day tote with supplies just for this kind of special occasion.

I love the cozy feeling of caring for an invalid.  All of a sudden everything deemed urgent is now on the back burner.  You realize that there’s nothing really that you wouldn’t undo to care for your child.  Succoring him, just being available to him, seems to be exactly what I was placed on this earth to do.  Which I sense anyway, even on their well-days, I just feel it more keenly on days like these.  I like the quiet of having only one child home.  A dozing one at that.  I like that I’m tethered to the house, that I can tidy up and play my soft music and enjoy the envelope of peace that sort of rests on our home.  I might prop him up to watch some tv later on or maybe set up a bed on the couch in the living room upstairs when he wants to be a part of the activity but is still not quite up to par.  You know how that is when you’re sick, so hard to be relegated to the back bedroom knowing family life is going on without you.  And yet you just can’t quite do normal life the way you want.  So playing spectator up close is as good as it gets.

I remember picking up my daughters when they’d felt yucky.  I’d brought one a rice bag and chocolate to her school office. I asked if she’d prefer to just come home and felt such confirmation of an inspired offer when I could see the flood of relief in her little face and tears forming in the corners of her eyes. I knew it was perfect for her to be able to suffer in the privacy of her own home.  Another one had been waiting and waiting for me (this was when I’d been at the temple), and so I raced especially fast to her side, so glad to finally hug her and be there for her.  It felt so good to be her rescuer when she’d had to stay strong for so long.

It’s nearly the same even when they’ve grown into their big-kid bodies.  I feel just as nurse-like with my college/high school-aged boys as the little kids.  Maybe because they are just as pitiful as they were when they were little.  It’s hard to be sick no matter how old you are, you just want to escape into sleep, nothing sounds good, you’re cold then sweaty, tired but restless.  You hate to be alone in your bed with nothing to do, but at the same time that’s all you have energy for.  It’s a wrestle you don’t have will to engage in, so you hope to just get Better soon, that it will all go away.

I know the mindset is to pity the soul who’s having a sick day.  Which is warranted.  It stinks.  Throwing up is the worst.  Chills where not even wearing sweats inside your bed warms you sufficiently.  Post-op recovery is also bad.  But aren’t you secretly just a teensy bit grateful for a sick day here and there?  I love the halt it puts on our life, when the entire requirement for the day is to sip a few drops of liquid and maintain life.

My mom never took a sick day all the years I was growing up.  Except once I remember her in bed right after a surgery and of course to have her two other babies.  She kind of set a precedence because I never missed a day of high school (except for field trips).  So dumb.  In my mind I guess I figured it wouldn’t be worth it to make up all that work.  Still dumb.  I should’ve at least gone to the beach.

Kids are usually awesome at knowing when it’s time to take little time off.  They seem to just know when it’s time to slow down and then when it’s time to be up again.  I noticed this when Andrew was 17 and got his wisdom teeth out.  I brought him home and set up shop on the couch with all the necessary paraphernalia.  He threw up a bunch of blood.  I think seeing it all over the bathroom kind of startled us both.  And really grossed us out.  But after three hours of resting he was all of a sudden back in his garage making knives.  And never looked back.  I just think kids are tuned in to how they feel and pay attention more than adults.

Granted, they have that luxury when they sense things aren’t quite right, nothing wrong with missing some school and watching tv all day.  Unlike parents who need to get to work or college students with looming finals.  But we just take some kind of Day-quill or other drug to keep things at bay and make the most of it.  Kind of like a mom with little kids and a baby at home.  You don’t dare nap because you have no idea if all the kids will still be there or what kind of trouble you’ll have when you wake up.  You just turn on the tv and pray they stay nearby.  It sort of throws them for a loop when the parent is the one down, especially if it’s the mom.  It’s concerning and unsettling, so it’s probably best we don’t take it lying down for the most part.

A couple weeks back I could feel that I was kind of losing touch with myself.  That sounds so dramatic, you know I’m not like that; I just knew I needed to pull back and kind of assess where I was and pay myself some attention instead of giving everything away.  A lot of adults refuse to stop, seeing it as giving in, being weak.  But I took some time off and said no to a few things and just spent some downtime at home, a couple of “sick days.”  Maybe selfish to some, but I saw it more as an investment.  More like a time to rest and recoup and get stronger so I could be more useful and happy.  And now I’m feeling more like Andrew who left his couch-bed to get back to work, more like my energetic self who has a list longer than her day but likes it that way, like my younger kids who let their soup get cold because the trampoline is beckoning and they’ve missed too many jumps convalesing.  That’s how you know you’re on the mend.

Time for dinner

Back in the fall of 1990, as freshmen at BYU, Todd and I would eat all three of our meals together nearly every day in the cafeteria.  A group of us would gather for dinner every night at 5, if nothing else, and it became habit for the entire nine months we lived in the dorms.  Who knew 24 years later we’d still be dining together?  We must’ve noticed the impact that tradition made in our lives, because over all these years we still insist on eating breakfast and dinner at the table as a family, and Todd and I still meet every Thursday for lunch.  Those were somewhat formative years in establishing our relationship.  And now we’re in those formative years with our kids, grateful for a time we know we’ll connect.

Speaking of meals, hardly anything makes me feel more on top of my game than when dinner’s underway before the day’s really awake.  I know how nerdy that sounds.  But I think if other moms could share a voice here they’d agree.  That’s one of my constants.  Regardless of what else my calendar dictates for the day, I know we’re all going to come together in the evening and that it’s mostly up to me.  And so I take that charge seriously.  But I love it when it’s done early.  Like in a crockpot bubbling away on the counter, smothering the house with tantalizing smells or in the fridge just waiting to be popped in the oven an hour before we’re ready.  Love those days.

I’d had a rough couple of weeks awhile back, you know how it is when you’ve been sick or just not yourself.  We were just getting by as far as dinners.  Nothing too crazy bad, just not my best effort.  I just wasn’t feeling it, too distracted and not quite engaged.  But finally one day I felt myself rising above the fog for whatever reason.  I decided to make enchiladas.  Garlic beef, one of my favorite recipes, one I’ve had forever.  I love the blend of spices.  I like the thick sauce.  I’m in my element when I’m making food for my family.  And I knew I was on the upswing as I rolled cheese and beef mixture into little tortillas in the late afternoon.  I felt so much like myself.  Making dinner that night with my soft music in the background and the new spring breeze wafting through the kitchen window was cathartic.  I felt centered knowing I was serving my family in a small but simple way.  So normal, routine.  Just right.

This morning was the same.  I’m starting early.  I think I’d do it more if I was home more during the day.  Usually I’m gone about the same hours as the rest of my family, but I’ve been pulling back a little more, carving out some time to be home, and I love it.  I just took out spicy-smelling muffins that will go with our Great Northern bean soup.  We’ll be gone this afternoon, so it’s one less thing to think about.  I wish I was better at this.  I’m really trying.  I think the biggest road block to cooking is deciding what to make.  So if I can figure out Sunday night what we’ll be doing during the week or even the night before, pulling a meal together really doesn’t take much effort.  I’m good and bad at this.  I go in waves.

I don’t care if it sounds old-fashioned—you know I don’t care—I am old-fashioned.  I think dinner ought to be a top priority in a family.  It seems that as dysfunctional as a lot of families were when we were all growing up, most of them at least had dinner together.  Which we know now is a buffer against all sorts of ails.  I’ve read studies, anecdotes, even a whole book devoted to this topic (The Surprising Power of Family Meals)—in favor of eating together.  And I know you know this too, both intuitively and because you’ve seen the studies as well.  Just interesting that something so effortlessly cultural made such a big difference in our lives growing up, even as tumultuous as some of our home lives could have been.

I think because it was one thing we could count on every day.  We knew that no matter how crazy the other parts of life at school and with friends were, we would come together as a family—whatever that looked like—and at least spend a few minutes over dinner.  Our dinner time wasn’t  perfect.  We usually watched tv.  Our living room and dining room could hardly be distinguished.  They were just extensions of each other in our little apartment, and so during dinner we’d sometimes just turn the tv toward the table.  Other times I suppose we’d talk.  I know we weren’t a deep family, and it was nothing memorable, but just the routine of coming together at the table night after night, year after year, must’ve connected us in ways we didn’t realize.

I loved my mom’s cooking.  During the week she worked, so dinners were kind of fast and easy.  Skillet types.  I didn’t care.  I loved spaghetti and tacos as much then as I do now.  We had macaroni and cheese with hot dogs.  Boiled.  I know.  Tostadas.  BLTs on Thursdays.  Creamed chicken occasionally.  Which I made for my roommates in college on one of my nights. Disgusting.  We had canned peas and pickled beets that leaked red juice all over the plate.  We had pizza every Friday.  Most of us still do.  Todd’s family does too.

Sunday was one we all looked forward to.  I remember hearing my mom call out before church, “Who’s going to make the jello?” (A given, the jello.)  “Who’ll make the muffins?”  (Another given.)  Blueberry, the kind with the small enclosed can of juicy berries right in the box.  A fascinating little pouch of mix, the can of blueberries, and additional tiny pouch of streusel all in one box.  She’d make roast or chicken broccoli and rice or bbq ribs and poppy seed potatoes.  We’d have chicken cordon bleu or Mexican chicken with a chili and cheese in the middle.  It was always such a treat to have Sunday afternoon dinners together, and a lot of times it seemed we had extra friends.  So fun.

Maybe that’s where I’m coming from.  It was so natural to include others, there was always plenty, and we’d linger when a college cousin or friends from church would join us.  We loved it when our Japanese teacher friend from day care or our Scottish relatives would bring a new perspective. It felt like we almost always had an extra friend.  And so it’s not a big deal to me.  We’re making dinner anyway.  Our kids are always asking who’s coming over and a lot of times we end up with someone by the end of church even if we told them we’re just having a small family dinner.  If not for dinner, at least for dessert.  Which is great, we all love it.

It’s not always around the table.  When the kids had sports I’d pack up pasta salad and bread.  Or little sandwiches on rolls.  Fruit and bagels.  We’d make do.  Sometimes we’ll pack up tin foil dinners and head to the park or lake for the night.  When the evenings seem to go on forever in the height of the summer, we’ll head up the mountains and cook over a fire until it gets dark.  And then we’ll do marshmallows.  Usually on Thursdays we have leftovers, the perfect night to clean out the fridge and get ready for the weekend.  Some nights the kids and I have to be all over town at different times, so we’ll eat early, without Todd.  It doesn’t feel the same, and we’re all a little out of sorts.  We normally eat at 6:30 when he gets home, which I know is late, but it’s better than not having him.  Sometimes it’s closer to 7.  I know.  Sometimes I have to be gone all afternoon and I’ll leave something in the crockpot.  But we really seem to do best when it’s a normal night and we gather around the table and catch up.  It’s not long, but it’s one thing we can count on.  We don’t have any cutesy things we do, we’re certainly not the poster family for dinnertime.  Or any time.  But we talk about what happened, if there was anything unusual, what the plans are for the evening or upcoming days.  I try to teach the kids conversation skills—a lost cause. Except for Callum, our 11 year-old, who will ask his dad, “What was your most interesting case today?” (He’s a vet.)  We occasionally pull out some fun conversation starters and we try to record something in our book every day.  At breakfast we’ll read a bit and share some stories, but we’re not awesome at any of this.  I guess our only success is that we’re at least trying.

Even though I don’t love to cook, I do like preparing meals for my family.  I know that sounds weird.  What I mean is I don’t necessarily love to try new seasonings or spending my afternoon chopping vegetables or making complicated or fancy dishes, I’d rather be working in the yard or reading or writing.  On the other hand, I do kind of like looking through cookbooks.  I’m so inconsistent.  But you already know that.  I love the stability dinner provides though, so that’s why I do it.  I think it’s cheaper and healthier than eating out, values I espouse.  I like putting together salads and vegetables, fresh fruit plates and new berries in little dishes.  I love using up leftover bits from the fridge and washing off the mud from garden spinach or potatoes.  I love plucking cilantro from the herb garden in the summer and using our remaining onions from last fall.  I feel nurturing when I set out the cutting board with fresh oatmeal bread and a steaming soup tureen.  I like the collective agreement when it’s something we all like.  But by now you know my mantra, that by small and simple things, great things come to pass.  And so even though the food isn’t anything to write home about, I don’t think that’s what matters. I think we’re just happy to be together, carrying on a tradition we know goes back through the ages.  I think it reminds us that there are still some things we can count on, that no matter what happens throughout the day we know we’ll still have time for dinner.

A long-distance relationship

I’m understanding what it feels like to be on the other side of things.  Having a son in college and one in high school (meaning this one is slowly leaving us too) has obviously added a new dimension to our relationships.  I’m realizing—again—how God must feel.  Parenting is the perfect way to begin to understand God’s love.

I’ve noticed this as we talk on the phone with our son in college.  I love it when he just randomly calls on his walk to class.  I look forward to the long chats we’ll have on the weekends.  I want to know how classes are going, if he likes any girls, how he felt about his job interview, what his concerns about his future are today, how he has no idea what he wants to be when he grows up.  I love hearing about his adventures with his friends, the lessons he’s learning, the hard parts of living with roommates and being alone without us.  I like it when he texts me to ask how long to cook a roast or for the chocolate chip cookie recipe we like.  I like it when he sends me a picture of a cool sunset or a change of season.  Or a random snow report for his favorite Montana ski resorts.

I imagine God smiles similarly when I’m excited about my drive to town and notice all the twigs are loaded with fresh snow or that the trees are getting their buds back and I thank him verbally.  I think He loves it when I kneel in the middle of an afternoon for nothing more than to catch up or to thank Him for my amazing life.  Or out of desperation for an issue I can’t seem to work out.  I think He’s happy to respond when I need some words of advice for a sad daughter and can’t gather my thoughts.  I think it gladdens His heart when I ask for help on a blog I’m trying to write—just like when Andrew wants us to look over his resume or Mitchell leaves me his research paper to proofread.  I want His input as our boys want ours.  I love it when Mitchell just follows me around the kitchen and shares his day with me.  Doesn’t ask for money or permission for something, he just wants to talk.  Or when they’d come in and hang out on the foot of our bed for an hour past my bedtime just to shoot the breeze.  Those are good times.  I feel close to the kids because of times like these and I know we’re building our relationships little by little.

Because when we have created a warm and trusting relationship with our kids, hopefully the hard topics won’t be as awkward.  They will feel just as comfortable telling us about recess as they are asking us for help with a dilemma with another kid.  Hopefully we establish a similar relationship with God and likewise report back on all the great parts of our day while feeling just as able to ask Him about our own quandaries.  And yet, we're not there quite yet.  We're still working on having our kids share with us all that's in their hearts, and I see myself doing the same thing with God, holding back a little.  I realize we aren't as transparent as we could be.  Even though I love Him so much and we share a similar love with our kids.

I wish I could live in their hearts or at least see into their hearts like God can.  I wish I could physically be with my kids all the time, but--like God--I can't.  And so I’m counting on ordinary people to help them out.  Because as great as words are, sometimes we just need a warm friend, someone tangible who will just be with us.  I’m hoping that people will be in tune enough to know what our kids needs, that they will say or do just the right thing.  I’m counting on that so much.  And it makes me so happy when Andrew tells me about a friend he looks up to there on his dorm floor or a dedicated leader he admires or one of the other kids has a teacher who she connects with, a friend’s mom who is just like an aunt.  I like that other adults in our life take time to text Andrew and ask about him.  I love that other friends step in when I can’t.  So I think I understand how much God is counting on us to help Him help His other children.

I’ve noticed how well God listens.  I’m learning to just figuratively sit back and just listen as well, both to my kids and God.  I wouldn’t call this my strong suit.  But I’m working on it. Sometimes I feel like God will put questions in my head, as if we’re carrying on a conversation.  And I find myself saying out loud, “That’s the perfect idea!” or “I don’t know, I’m just sad.”  So I like to do that with our kids because of course we want to know what they’re thinking, what solutions they’ve come up with, what feelings they’re dealing with.  I know it helps to figure things out when I picture my loving Heavenly Father patiently listening to me.  Undistracted.  But with a thought-provoking rhetorical question every now and then.  And so I want to follow that example.

The past month or so we’ve been emailing our college son a lot.  Which is probably my favorite way to communicate with him (and most people) because I can think before I send him my words, we can share a lot of the feelings we don’t usually in a phone conversation.  I like that we can share opinions about religion and life and people and the future. I feel like I have this going with God in a way.  I’ll write questions in the back of my journal with a little blank space, waiting for a response.  I love when I periodically go back to see if any of them have been answered because inevitably some have.  A timeless version of email.

I like that sometimes we have lulls in our conversations (and emails) with the kids.  Sometimes it’s with Andrew on the phone or with my 13 year-old in the front seat while we’re driving.  I’m learning to get over the discomfort of it.  I sometimes feel that happening when I pray, I pause and kind of mull things over in my mind.  It takes a second to gather my thoughts.  And so I understand how that is with Andrew when he’s run out of things to say but doesn’t necessarily want to hang up quite yet. Or when the kids are on our bed and after a lively dialogue and then we just kind of sit for a minute.  I’m learning to just let the silence be.  You know you’re with a good friend when you can be quiet together.  God is like that.  I’m learning.

But I’m so un-Godlike in so many ways.  I feel my inadequacies keenly, for instance, in that I have no idea what Andrew is thinking unless we talk or write to each other.  God, on the other hand, knows us and our thoughts perfectly.  I can suspect and suppose, but I honestly am only ever guessing.  And so of course I get it wrong a lot of the time.  I notice how anxious I am, and I see God as ever patient and calm and collected.  Traits I try to hone but that are so difficult when it’s your own kids.

And so I’m left to wait.  I would love to get more emails and letters and phone calls and texts.  I don’t care if it’s anything important.  I just want to hear from him.  I miss him.  And I know Heavenly Father feels that way about all of us as His children.  But I also know it’s for his own good that I want him to call home more.  Which sounds just like a mom.  But I know that when he connects with us he’s reminded of what Home felt like.  He remembers in small ways what he’s been taught.  He can’t help but feel our love for him.  I can’t imagine he hangs up not feeling a little stronger just knowing he has a support system, a few allies.  I know that’s why God wants us to dial in as well.

But when he doesn’t make the effort, I just wait.  Kind of like a nail-biter who has to sit on her hands.  So un-God-like.  I would love to write and write and write to him.  In fact I have.  But I don’t feel to send him more until he’s read what I’ve already written.  I’m not sure what he thinks about much of it or if it matters to him.  I wonder if God feels that way about me and all He’s written.  Maybe I don’t show that His words matter or that I care about them.  And yet I understand how God must feel because even as imperfect as I am, I feel that I have so much I can teach him.  I have learned so much over the years.  I’ve been where he is, I know what it’s like.  I’m eager to share a lesson or an experience or a truth with him.  But I will never force myself on him.  Like I said, I’ll send him letters, just as God sends us counsel and comfort through the words of His scriptures.  I’m counting on others closer to him to be what I can’t right now.  I’m always available whenever he calls or texts, but I can’t force him to call me or write back.  I have to wait.

Windy days

Todd grew up in the Windy City and now we live in what should be called Windiest City Ever.  Which is fine.  You just kind of get used to it.  But last Saturday made the paper, a constant barrage of wind, nearly blackout conditions on some roads from the field dust, parts of the highway were closed, collisions, huge gusts, power outages. Including our home.

Which is also fine.  But when it happens you kind of make a quick assessment of how that will affect the rest of the day and weekend.   I navigated my way along darkened back roads from a baby shower to see my husband playing Monopoly with our 9 and 11 year-olds.  I felt out of sorts, in between obligations and needing to leave again soon, but I couldn’t help but wonder if the power would be back on before dinner, and in my mind I played out the immediate future.  And then I felt myself relax.  We had plenty of food that we could access.  We could always have cereal.  Our grill would come in handy.  Water is a problem for us when we’re without electricity because we’re on a cistern, but we have bottled water. We’ve certainly gone without before, we know how to camp, we’ve got this.

I thought back to wind storms we’d endured in the past.  One that always stands out is the one that blew our trampoline over our neighbors fences, breaking them and crippling our brand-new tramp.  The only one we’ve ever bought.  We even spent $100 trying to get the legs repaired at a shop downtown.  What a waste of money.  It was kind of surreal watching it tumble across the yards; we even had it tethered down, but the top half just blew off.  We chased it but weren’t quick enough.  Sometimes we’ll lose a shingle or two, we’ll sustain some damage.  Unexpected gusts, stronger than anticipated.  This last storm blew our grill into our window well.

Sometimes I feel like I’ve been blown into the window well.  I feel the weight of a power outage in my heart on occasion, causing me look around at the resources at my disposal.  Sometimes we’re in the middle of a windy day or just a blustery period of life, but once in awhile the gusts come out of the west with hardly a whisper to announce their arrival and I’m blind-sided.  I can’t help but feel a little apprehensive.  This is stronger than the ones we’re used to, will our preparations still hold?

I think we all held onto the notion in our younger days that our preparations—the formula—would protect us.  That if we did our part, the clouds would somehow part around us.  We would have a silver umbrella to shelter us, we would be immune to the passing storms that others were unfortunate enough to get caught up in.  But I think we’ve all lived long enough to know that’s not what our preparations have been about at all.  The formulas we relied on in algebra work for us in mathematical situations, but life is more like the piece of scratch paper we used than a bubble sheet all neatly shaded in.  Sometimes it feels like the formulas weren’t meant to hold up in real life.

Just when I think I’ve reached a part in my education when I can keep my answer sheet neat and tidy, the winds flare up and I’m back to my scratch paper life.  But what I’ve learned is that the formulas always work.  Not that they help avoid the windstorms of life, but that they are tools that help us work out the problems on our life’s homework.

I’d of course hoped that if we dutifully did our part to have Family Home Evening and attend church, to pray and read as a family and on our own, that if we played and talked and spent hours and hours together, as well as all the other things we’ve embraced since we were young and started our family, we would avoid the storms of life.  I’d hoped that by using the formula I’d end up with a nice even answer with no remainders.  And yet, I was realistic enough to know at the same time that it’s just not the way life’s tests go.  And so while I hoped, I at the very same time knew.  I think we’re all kind of like that.  Of course we hope.  We have faith that the deposits we make will eventually make a difference, that they will amount to something, that they will provide security.  Why else would we do any of this?

What I have found is that while all these deposits don’t help us avoid the storms of life, they are perfectly accounted for and available for me at a moment’s notice.  They are most definitely my security.  While attending the temple for years hasn’t prevented gusts from billowing around our home, it has tethered and grounded me, providing an anchor of stability in a troubling world and a place of refuge to think clearly and to receive comfort and answers.  While reading scriptures as a family doesn’t guarantee that we won’t have the same struggles as the people we read about, I know it brings the Spirit into our home and into our lives.  I know to go back to them for words of counsel, to hear what God has for me and to see how others handled similar problems.  They strengthen and comfort me, buoying me up to handle what’s out there.  I know going to church doesn’t assure me that every one of my children will always want to join me, that’s not necessarily how it works.  But what does work is the support and peace and strength I find there.  I know praying for our kids doesn’t mean they travel with an impermeable force-shield, but it’s an infalable source of power that comforts and guides us all as I send them out in all sorts of inclement weather.  And just as we look to our Savior to show us the way in our everyday life, He is there even in blackout conditions.  He not only takes our hand when we reach out for Him, He gives us courage to walk in the dark with Him.  He shares His strength, His love, His matchless power with us.  Because of the relationship we developed on many calm and cloudless days, we are familiar and at ease with Him when the darkening clouds threaten.  It’s a given.

So just as I looked around and took stock of what resources we had to help us through our power outage last Saturday, I think we do the same thing as the winds of life have picked up.  I know that just as we’ve squirreled away food and water, we’ve also stored up words of comfort and counsel, we’ve created and lived traditions and habits, and we’ve built strong relationships with each other and our God that will provide strength and nourishment no matter how long or strong the storms of life rage.  The formula works—not that it prevents the wind storms of life from reaching our homes—but it is the very framework we count on as we make our way through them.

Quick Sweep

Quick Sweep:  Organizational tips for streamlining home life

“…by small and simple things are great things brought to pass…” 

I. Why?

Peace, calm.  Order allows us to focus on what really matters in life.  Keeping things neat is NOT about impressing people; it’s about creating an environment so that the Spirit can touch you and your family and so your home can be a respite and haven from the chaos of the world.   It’s about creating a feeling, a sanctuary and safe haven, a laboratory for life.  And it’s not just about things, this includes activities/commitments and brain clutter.  We may have immaculate houses but be hoarders when it comes to our time/scheduling.  Too many crowded days with no where to put our feet up!  It doesn’t have to be and shouldn’t be immaculate.  That’s not realistic.  It feels too intense/uptight.  Should feel “homey” and this happens when there’s order and cleanliness and flow.  Same with our days.

Preface—Mothers Who Know (from a talk by Julie B. Beck)

“Mothers who know create a climate for spiritual and temporal growth in their homes. Another word for nurturing is homemaking. Homemaking includes cooking, washing clothes and dishes, and keeping an orderly home. Home is where women have the most power and influence.  Working beside children in homemaking tasks creates opportunities to teach and model qualities children should emulate. Nurturing mothers are knowledgeable, but all the education women attain will avail them nothing if they do not have the skill to make a home that creates a climate for spiritual growth. Growth happens best in a “house of order,” and women should pattern their homes after the Lord’s house. Nurturing requires organization, patience, love, and work. Helping growth occur through nurturing is truly a powerful and influential role bestowed on women.

These wise mothers who know are selective about their own activities and involvement to conserve their limited strength in order to maximize their influence where it matters most.  Mothers who know do less. They permit less of what will not bear good fruit eternally. They allow less media in their homes, less distraction, less activity that draws their children away from their home. Mothers who know are willing to live on less and consume less of the world’s goods in order to spend more time with their children—more time eating together, more time working together, more time reading together, more time talking, laughing, singing, and exemplifying. These mothers choose carefully and do not try to choose it all. Their goal is to prepare future fathers and mothers who will be builders of the Lord’s kingdom That is influence; that is power.”  (Julie B. Beck)

So as women and mothers, we are the ones to create a climate for learning and growth.  We have limited time, space, energy, and resources.  Our job is to prioritize our stuff, our time, and our activities so we have time to spend on the things that are most important.

II. Declutter—#1 problem is too much stuff!

A. Question everything!  Do I need/want/use it?  One in, one out.  More you have, more to take care of, sort, dust, move, deal with.  Get down to basics:  what is a reasonable amount of clothing for each person, for instance.  Can I borrow it?  Is the space it takes up worth it?  Anything from a camper to an apple peeler/corer.  Are gadgets worth the shelf/pantry space? Disclaimer:  if you have oodles of storage space and are a sentimental type, by all means keep your stuff.  Just organize it, containerize it.  But question your motives—are you avoiding dealing with it or have you decided it’s for keeps?  Work with a non-sentimental friend who is good at tossing.  Use a method to determine (if you are indecisive, convinced otherwise): turn hangers around, store out of sight for a year, whatever.  Test it.  Get in the habit of not even bringing home things you will have to deal with ie plastic bags, junk toys, trash from the cars, dirt, programs.  Cancel subscriptions to unnecessary magazines.  Get off mailing lists.  You can always subscribe in the future.  Stop trying to make things “work” (decorations, clothes, activities).  Better to have a few quality pieces than lots of items you only kind of like.

Activities:  Really think about it before you “bring it home.”  Just because sign-ups come home doesn’t mean you have to fill them out.  Think what you would do with that free time as a family.  Or how it would impact your family if you say yes.  Or no.  Just because you’ve had an item or activity for years doesn’t mean it needs to stay.  It’s personal, just be mindful and don’t be afraid to re-evaluate.

B. Always have a donation box or black bag.  Put anything in question in it.  You can always fish it out later if you get desperate for its company.  Someone out there will love it—be generous while it’s still in style and in good shape.  Don’t look through the donation bag as you are giving it away.  Even if it was a gift!!!

Activities: Sometimes it’s time to just get rid of them.  Just putting them out of sight temporarily is enough to let you think clearly and see what life feels like without it/them.  One in, one out rule.

C. Clear a space.   Just relish the clean, clutter-free look.  As you consider replacing each item, truly think of its function/purpose.  Do you have there out of habit, you love it, it’s useful?  Put everything you can away, even the useful stuff (ie toaster, mixer).  Less visual clutter=less head clutter.  Same with decorations.  Take everything down/out.  Start over.  Mix up pieces from different parts of the house.  Put centerpiece on table so it looks nice, deters clutter.

Activities:  You might want to clear your whole calendar of as many extra-curriculars as you can for just one season.  Slowly add back the things you love.  Just use the time and space to collect your thoughts.  Just as we need space around our mixer and toaster on the counter to help things feel less cluttered, clear space around your commitments.  Have older siblings teach youngers if you can’t fit everyone in.  Take turns at lessons.  Just because there’s a place for the juicer on the counter doesn’t mean you have to put it there.  Or even bring it home.  Get used to open space/time.  Also leave space around activities: don’t try to cram in zoo, Chuck E. Cheese, and pool in one day; choose one and leave some down-time around it.

D. Containerize.  Everything that is small can go in something big.  Think baskets, cosmetic trays, check boxes, office supply trays, silverware trays, old Tupperware without lids, Dollar store plastic trays, magazine racks, old ladders (for folded blankets/fabric).  Get in the habit of repurposing used containers; get creative before you toss.  Make decorative pieces play double duty (ie baskets by toilet for tp, old crates for books).  Lotions, potions, hair ribbons, loose hot chocolate/oatmeal/seasoning mix packets.  Sturdy containers are preferable to a bag of chocolate chips or cereal or crackers.  Look for nooks and crannies under sinks, drawers, linen closets.  Make a lunch “drawer” in the fridge with lunch meat, baggies of grapes or veggies, condiments for sandwiches.  Make one for the pantry too (pudding cups, fruit leather).  Keep a snack section of the pantry/fridge in portion sizes you’re ok with.  Ask for someone with a fresh set of eyes to help you see the possibilities.  You can keep the same amount of stuff, but in a container it feels more orderly.  The more uniform the containers are, the more orderly everything looks.  Containers everywhere: purses, bags, vehicles. 

E. Logically keep items where they are most used/where it makes sense.  Every item has a home that makes sense that family members can all find.  Designate an office area somewhere in or near the kitchen if you don’t have a home office.  Make it easy for kids to be self-sufficient: plastic dishes, snacks on their level, toys with a definite home, clothes they can reach, coat racks that are easy to use, car and house keys on a peg board, tools in designated drawers garage.  Teach them to solve problems and take care of their own needs.  Put your purse in the same spot all the time.  Put your keys in the same pocket of your purse all the time, etc.

III. Maintain

A. Lay the foundation:  Exercise, read your scriptures, pray, get dressed, whatever you need.  Center yourself.  Help family members develop these habits:

bedrooms: beds made, clothes away

bathrooms: counters cleared, towels hung, clothes away

kitchen: counters cleared, dishes at least in sink if not in dishwasher; wipe table, start dinner?

up/down: keep containers at top and bottom of stairs for items to go up or down, one for each person?

B. Keep it picked up—throughout the day into evening

car:  Take in everything that doesn’t belong in a vehicle, keep trash container (Kleenex box, hanging bag, tiny trash can) in each vehicle, keep shop vac handy and do often (have person who drives that vehicle be responsible for it each weekend).  Keep a stash of supplies handy in a crate or under the seat in a container with a lid or in the trunk: water, change of clothes for little ones, wipes, snacks, books, blanket, emergency supplies for winter travel.  Use hanging toiletries bag on the back of seats to store entertainment and snacks for long trips or even around town.  Keep sturdy boxes in trunk for transporting dinners (soup?) and for grocery sacks.  Keep tools at close range in a crate or basket with “tools” you’d like.

purse:  Clear out occasionally at stop light or while waiting for an appt.  Corral like items in pouches.

church bag: Take a couple minutes Sunday night and clean out, write notes/assignments/upcoming events from church on calendar; re-stock.

diaper bag: Take some time Sunday night and re-stock diapers, wipes, new outfit for baby, snacks, toss trash, etc. ready for the week; keep a similar bag in vehicle so supplies are always ready.  Adapt for older kids: snacks, change of outfit esp for preschoolers (i.e., in case they have an accident at a park), first aid kit, wipes no matter what age, water 

mail:  Open at trash (or recycling) and sort immediately: throw everything away you can!  Separate the rest: recycling, bills, to be filed, letters/items requiring reply in a file/box, put future reference items immediately in your binder.  Cancel unwanted magaznines/catalogs immediately; you can keep sorting while you’re on the phone.  Keep bill items in one basket:  calculator, return address labels, stamps, envelopes, pen.  Put bills to be paid in this basket.

kitchen:  counters cleared, dishwasher started, keep up with, have kids involved

living areas: Kids pick up own stuff (given time of day ie right before dinner or bed) or else… (your choice: donation bag, time-out, earn back)

by door/mudroom: Keep a bag for errands in mudroom/near door (returns, packages to mail, library books), just take to car.  Post a list for each family member of items to remember on certain days (instruments, library books, p.e. shoes).  Sticky note on door if someone needs to remember something special like class treats or science fair board.

junk box: This is for all the Legos and screwdrivers that you don’t want to immediately want to run back to their spots.  Once a month clean it out and return all game pieces, tools, etc.  Get rid of items you still don’t know what to do with.  Keep one up/downstairs and in laundry room.

school stuff: Have them get in the habit (chart on door, must be done before snack or play) of putting away backpacks, coats, giving you anything to sign, wash hands.

C. Put your house to bed

* Don’t wake up to yesterday’s work, start fresh, easier to take a few minutes at night.  Sparkly sink.  Plan for tomorrow.  Outfits ready, items for the next day by the door.  Dinner for next night (defrost meat?)

D. Make family members work

* Take care of own stuff and common areas (rotate each day or week?).

* Let kids do anything/everything they are capable of (holding own bottle, doing own sheets, laundry, lunches, oil changes, tire rotations, cleaning their vehicle, scheduling own hair cuts).

* Rooms should be regularly cleaned (sheets), but give some flexibility (when it starts to affect the family then it needs to be addressed).  

* Low hooks, shelves, rods; label boxes so even young children can replace items.  Think school rooms.

IV. Baby steps: 5 minutes or less!

Little irritations build up, causing an underlying layer of stress when everywhere you look you notice another project.  Conquer one a day to keep up and to give yourself a boost and sense of accomplishment.  A tiny investment every day can add up.

* Wipe out the microwave after doing the dishes (cook sponge), wipe fingerprints off fridge and doors.

* Sharpen pencils while supervising homework.  Cut and file your nails while watching kids in the tub.

* Wipe the bathroom during bath time or the shower while you’re in it.  

* Let crockpot soak while you’re eating.  Cut up onions or vegetables for the whole week at once.

* Vacuum out the van after grocery shopping.  Use the soapy dish water to clean the sink.

* Try to do one tiny job a day: silverware trays, empty toaster crumbs, make-up drawer, wash brushes, purse, straighten mudroom, jewelry box, take donations/recycling/returns.

* Write all bday cards the last Sunday of the previous month (or whatever day you choose).  Mail gifts/cards at beginning of month.  Keep gifts on hand for bday parties, buy way in advance for upcoming birthdays.  Keep a birthday gift box stocked for kid parties.

* Get in the habit of dealing with laundry as it comes out.  Takes less than five minutes/load to fold and put away.  Same with pots/pans.

* Clean light fixtures when doing bathroom mirror.

* Clean out your purse at stop light.  Good time to clear phone messages too!

* Use dishwasher to clean vents, tops of ketchup etc bottles, toothbrushes, sponges

* Sweep and mop pantry as part of floor.  Pull out oven and fridge every couple of times.  Alternate.  You will also be surprised how easy it is to clean behind the washer/dryer.

V. Room by room/hot spots

A. Bedroom:  Your room should be a relaxing haven for you, not your stuff;  not a storage room.  Make it a place you want to be by keeping it clean and decorating it.  Show that you and your marriage are your top priority.

under bed—storage for sheets/bedding, Legos, out of season kid clothes, gift wrapping station, to rotate toys

baskets or boxes by bed—reading material to keep it looking tidy; small one for chargers.  (Consider a family charging station in parents’ room.)

habit (for all family members): make bed, put away clothes

bedding—splurge on new pillows; clean sheets each week; flip mattress, vac 

shelving to inside closet doors—bedroom, kitchen, bathroom; can also use shoe bag behind doors (stuffed animals, cars, hair accessories)

B. Bathroom: Each person is responsible for his/her stuff.  Leave it clean and ready for next “guest.”  #1 problem is too many lotions/potions that need to be used up or discarded.

baskets/caddies—one for each family member with name tag (can be taken to/from bedroom if space is tight or designate a shelf); also use for towels, tp (by toilet or on floor of closet), hair stuff

behind-the-door (shoe) organizer for hair stuff or lotions/hair sprays

towels/washcloths—clothespin with name on hook; rolled in baskets for guests, hook for hand

over-the-toilet cabinet or high shelf near ceiling for storage if small space—tampons, tp, diapers

random containers—tic-tac container is perfect for bobby pins, Altoids for small ponies/elastics, ribbon for hair clips

C. Kitchen: Think function:  where do you use items and how often?

baking area—measuring utensils, spices, hot pads, think about how you work

washing area—soaps, cloths, brushes (put in dishwasher every day or so), towels (splurge every now and then on new washcloths/towels, even if it’s a Bday or Christmas gift!); containerize (put Costco soap in smaller squeeze bottle, put dishwasher tablets in pretty canister, Dollar store for plastic baskets/containers for sponges, scrapers for under the sink, less by sink)

pantry—use for frequently-used items if space is limited, ok to use laundry room, basement or garage for once-a-year roasters, ice cream maker, canning supplies

Pantry Principle/Be Prepared: keep several containers of frequently used items ie canned milk, tomato products, butter and add to list when you’re down to one or two; calming because you have options, always able to make your regular foods even with company coming.  Freezer too: ie always have Cool Whip or ice cream—last minute get-togethers aren’t stressful)

fridge—clear it off; papers need to go in office area/binder.  Wipe out as a 5 minute job with soapy dish water the night before you go grocery shopping.

Make drawers within cupboards by using a plastic tub (or box) so you can pull out all the spices at once (put labels on lids), or all the plastic lids, for instance.  Place toaster in a box to catch crumbs if you store it away (rest on glass cutting board if you leave it on the counter).

scriptures—have a basket or make a shelf on wall (use brackets and a floating shelf; use bookends)

D. Garage: Designate areas and containerize

* hang up anything you can (lumber, bikes, hoses, rakes, cords)

* bins or trash cans (balls, bats, assign one per person or per sport, shovels, rakes)

* boxes or other containers with labels (yard, automotive, sprinkler, plumbing, painting)

* sweep regularly (weekly kid job?), keep shop vac very accessible (kid job?), use rugs—first line of defense

* bungee cords to keep items standing up along wall

* take off shoes to eliminate most dirt; shoe cubbies in garage?

E. Laundry: Make it pretty and functional, easy for all to use.

* Assign each family member his/her own day (kids may want to swap jobs—one will do another’s laundry in exchange for bathroom, some will want to combine clothes).

* Schedule days for doing all towels and/or sheets.

* basket or other holder for lost socks (gather everyone and all the loner socks from drawers and this basket occasionally, after three years toss the ones you’ve never found; this is how you’ll find the match)

* Place a jar or basket for items (coins, hair things, anything that comes through that you don’t want to put away right away) near washer/dryer.  Like other junk boxes, clean out every month or so.  Tell kids so they can come get anything that they still want.)

* Evaluate the number of spot removers, soaps, etc.; make yourself use up what you have before opening something new.  Put soaps, dryer sheets in pretty canisters or jars and tuck away huge boxes.

* assigned baskets for each family member (if they are too young to do it themselves)

* ironing—hang up items in closets if you know you aren’t going to get to it for awhile; fewer wrinkles, one less pile; have each family member do his own (young as 8 can manage)

* mending—again, teach each family member how; pile in basket by sewing machine if it will help remind you and it can be tucked away, or keep a list of what needs to be done and store clothes in closets for now

F. Cleaning Closet

* Either keep a stocked caddy under each bathroom sink/closet or have just one that travels.

* Hang up anything you can (leashes, fly swatters, spray bottles, aprons).

* Baskets can corral rags, brushes, cleaners.

* Contain plastic bags by using Kleenex box, paper towel tube, car trash bag, fabric holder; reusable, omit. 

*  Make a point within the month to use up the dregs in all these containers.  Toss items you never use.

G. Toys—teach them that picking up is part of play and keep only good quality, open-ended toys with high play value

* no catch-all toy box (except dress up)

* baskets/boxes/containers and label (pictures for very young children) so even guests can clean up 

* no miscellaneous junk toys that serve no purpose; don’t even bring them home (when giving gifts consider the mom, think of consumable gifts or experiences/magazine subscriptions)

* puzzles—number the back of the tray and each piece that goes with it; put pieces in zip-lock bag and all into large container with lid

* consider putting all toys in one room rather than kids’ rooms

* check-out system

* designate play areas like preschools (ie dress up with hooks and mirror, reading corner, craft area)

* baskets for gaming systems/electronics

* hammock for stuffed animals or try a string from the ceiling with clothespins to attach the animals; eliminate

H. Books/reading material

* Either designate a library spot (bean bags/shelf/blanket/closet with doors off) or give each person a basket/container for room.

* Decorate using books: gutter shelving, more likely to read what they can see, hang up covers you like.

* Spread throughout life—magazines/newspapers in baskets, nice books on living room tables, fun fact paperbacks and magazines and word puzzles in vehicles; power of suggestion!

* Keep a list of what you loan and what you borrow (in your binder, see VI).

I. Desk/office area: Make it user-friendly for all family members

* Use a BIG calendar for the entire family: record event/time and file the details (address, what to wear), obviously different colors for each member if you have that kind of life

* binder or trays/boxes/baskets/folders for each family member

* File every few days if you can, at least once or twice a month after paying bills—stay on top of it and it’s not a big deal; make categories very simple so anyone can locate what they need.  Consider a file for each family member for more permanent items.  Keep originals in safe at home or bank or freezer.

* Use a binder/box for warranties/instruction manuals—staple receipt to instruction manual and file by category (kitchen appliances, lawn equipment, sewing machine, baby items); if you have a very large filing cabinet or drawer system you can just designate an area to warranties/instructions.

J. Memorabilia:  Be sensible.  Not exclusively sentimental.

* Hang up art work temporarily on string/ribbon with clothespins in hallways, other common areas, or bedrooms.  Or rotate pictures in frames.  Take picture of and mail to family member or recycle.

* Delegate scrapbooking to members who are willing to do it (teen girls).  Can do old-fashioned way (just slip pictures in page protectors, doesn’t have to be 3-D).

* Each family member can have a long tote under his bed for large projects/artwork, clean out at end of each school year; again, take a picture and dispose of or decide to save in larger tote for when they move out.

* Have a file box for each member with file folder for each year of school for pictures/special pictures. Really consider, though, if all this is worth keeping.  Do any of us ever go back and look at our 5th grade handprints?  Be judicious, keep some, but just because he colored a picture at church and it came home isn’t a good enough reason to keep it.  Keep thin box under each kid’s bed, clean out end of summer.

* If you still print pictures or if you have some from years ago—sort into piles for each family member and put in shoebox or other smallish box.  Then divide each smaller box into years or even broader categories like baby, childhood, teen, adult. Give grown-up children their boxes.  Let a teen scan pictures and print books online for value project.  Think before buying:  do you need/want school or team pictures?  Consider a group shot only.

* If you want to do some kind of journal but procrastinate or it seems too overwhelming, maybe start with a question a day at dinner and have someone record each family member’s responses.  Print your emails, keep in a binder.  Have a family grateful book, add one item each night at prayer.  Take a random photo each day.  Compile books for everyone at Christmas.  Add details.  A teen’s project.

K. Recipes/Meals

* Decide on a method: binder(s), box, blank book where you write in your favorites, a combination—just categorize; consider helping your yw start their own system as a value project, get together with other ladies

* Have a folder for recipes you haven’t tried but want to—once you’ve tried it, either toss it or keep and file and make a point to try a new recipe 2-4 times a month, for instance

* Assign each kid a night to be in charge of dinner (deciding with you what to have and to be your helper—or if he’s old enough, you be his helper/advisor).   Plan the menu on Sunday night or before you go grocery shopping for the week (save time/money and try going every two weeks).  Some suggest a theme for each night (Mexican, Italian, soup, sandwiches, seafood).  Ideally, look through fridge, pantry, and esp freezer for items that need to be used up. Some suggest shopping sales too.  Plan dinners that use similar ingredients within a reasonable amount of time to use up items ie rotisserie chicken, whipping cream, peppers, cilantro.

* Post menu conspicuously (a small Dollar store calendar works or print a blank calendar page for the fridge). Have a leftover night each week, maybe Thursday to clean out the fridge before the weekend, maybe Monday so you start the week off clear, or maybe even Sunday if you have late church. Traditional holiday meals and cultural lesson ie, Chinese on Chinese New Year red Valentine’s, corned beef on St. Patrick’s, Fiesta on Cinco de Mayo

* May want to create a master list of all your recipes/foods you make and your family likes (and which cookbook/pg) so you don’t get into a rut ie, soups, salads, pastas, breads, etc., just easier to plan a menu.  Some even  plan breakfast menus. If kids are on their own for making breakfast or lunch, have them create a similar list of all breakfast foods they can choose from (granola, cream of wheat, muffins, wraps, omelets) and lunch choices (yogurt, crackers and cheese, vegetables and dip, trail mix, nuts).  Same for snack ideas. Sometimes just being able to visualize choices spurs creativity.

* Weekday cooking can be very simple, save the fancier stuff for weekends when there’s more time (?) or interest; you can have a frozen vegetable or salad nearly every night, nothing wrong with a bowl of kiwi, cuties, grapes or raw carrots, cucumbers, or snap peas on the table as part of dinner.  Freezer meals?  At least freeze half and have next week instead of in the same week.

* Don’t let cooking overwhelm you when you want to socialize.  Appetizers and desserts.  Sundaes bar  Tacos or baked potato bar, (store-bought) soup and bread.  Frozen lasagna.  Chinese take-out.  Store-bought pizza crusts and make your own pizzas.  Potluck or at least have everyone bring something.  Keep frozen cookie dough balls for last-minute plans or when kids need treat for school/church activity.  Don’t stress about cleaning the house for company.  Put anything you can in the dishwasher or oven in a pinch.  Clean one bathroom (surface-ly—no need to do shower) and shut bedroom doors.  Sweep.  Dab sticky spots.  Have kids vacuum and light candles.  Good company is so much more important than tense, uptight people in a spotless house.  Guests want to feel like part of the family.

* Make the same dinner every time you’re asked to bring one (new baby, sick sister).  Have just a handful of easy, fool-proof meals and feed them over and over to the missionaries and your friends.  Keep track if you want in your binder of what you fed who.

* Easy snack/lunch box ideas:  frozen berries and creamer, popcorn in a brown paper bag, bagel or pita pizzas, pitas with garlic salt or cinnamon sugar, apples or carrots or celery with pb or Nutella, cheese and crackers, garlic bagels, cinnamon toast, bean burritos, tuna or chicken on crackers, cottage cheese and fruit, cottage cheese-ranch dip or humus with vegetables, trail mix (nuts, pretzels, dried fruit, cereal), granola and yogurt, smoothies (frozen too), energy bites, chili or soup, wrap, salad, cream cheese and bagel, fruit salad

L. Camping/72 hour kits

* Keep totes stocked with essentials: old dish towels, paper towels, wipes, hand sanitizer, cutting board, utensils, tin foil, dish soap, etc.

* Keep kits in mud room or closet near an exit.  Might try garage or car but be careful about extremes in temperatures.  Large overnight backpacks or regular-sized ones work (find at garage sales/second-hand). Switch out over Conference weekend, eat whatever food needs to be used up.  Remember water.

VI. Binder

Can use one large one or several smaller ones.  There are great, great systems out there, check them out online.  Basically, just the one place to keep all on-going information we’re working on or need to reference regularly.  All family members know where to look.  Keep it simple and user-friendly so everyone can use on their own.  Adapt yours as needed, some ideas:

1. Sections (labeled of course)

* front page—family members’ contact information, emergency numbers, and neighbor numbers

* additional contact information—ward lists, school numbers, vting/hting routes, extended family contact lists

* finances—budget outline

* Christmas/gifts—ideas for self and family members, list of what’s already been bought, address list, bdays

* packing lists—master copy, can make changes and print for each family member for each trip/camping.  If you travel frequently, just keep travel items stocked and packed.  Once each member has packed his case, zip and put by door with sticky note of anything still needed.  Each in charge of own to-do bag.  Print idea list.

* items loaned— running list of books and other items either borrowed or loaned

* movies and books to check out/see

* household/vehicle maintenance—to keep track of when you got the septic pumped, changed the furnace filter, got the tires rotated

* menus—personal family menus from past months as well as from restaurants

* to do list—repairs that need to be made, household projects to address; could include mending list here

* calendars—school, community events, church, practice schedules (or these can be filed under the individual)

* goals—these would probably be better posted in a prominent place, but this is another option

* travel—ideas for trips, itineraries, packing lists

2. Pocket dividers

Each family member has his/her own pocket for items pertaining only to that person ie birthday party invitation, EFY registration information, school supply lists, upcoming field trip details, school schedule, lock combination, letters from school that need to be kept, upcoming testing information.  Date/time is on family calendar but details are held here out of the way.  

* reference—ice skating rink schedule, menus (another option instead of its own section), possibly lists of what the kids can do when they’re bored, good Sunday activities, ways to earn money around the house

* pending—wedding announcements, travel itineraries and ticket confirmations, concert tickets, upcoming doctor appointment paperwork

* coupons—gift cards, restaurant discounts

VII. Family schedule

On the fridge or wall or someplace very visible (maybe by family calendar) lay out a loose family schedule that everyone agrees on.  Include the backbones like meal times, scriptures, waking up times, bedtimes, the basic order and layout of a typical day.  Everyone does better with some basic parameters in the day.  You may find it helpful to include a school-like schedule even if you just have preschoolers at home, like snacks, stories, outside play, play days, nap times.  You maybe actually even need a schedule more than you think if you’re an empty-nester or have entire days to yourself.  Make yourself accountable and organized: day/time for temple, exercise, paperwork, cleaning, yard work, errands, home-business, family history, even reading and nap!  Take a lunch break.  Read, do something enjoyable.

Cleaning schedule:  a little everyday (fly lady) or one cleaning day (looks like the cleaning lady has come).

Chores:  assign on monthly basis, enough time to really learn the job; have them done by 6 p.m. Friday night or before 10 a.m. Saturday morning.

Block out some time Monday morning to recover from weekend (straighten, laundry, mop?) and again on Friday to get ready for the weekend (change sheets, your bathroom, your room, mop, laundry) 

Make calendaring part of FHE or Sunday evening prayers.  Just take a few minutes to compare schedules, let everyone know what everyone else is doing, coordinate rides/vehicles, make sure everyone has needed supplies.  Make any necessary arrangements/phone calls/emails/texts.

VIII. Involve your kids or others in simple ways

* paying jobs (based on $10/hour, so calculate by what fraction of an hour the job took)

* more important to know how to work than to kick a ball (family responsibilities trump school/work/extra-curiculars; these are temporary—families are forever!) Work is guaranteed to pay bigger dividends than the chance at a baseball scholarship.

* Dovetail activities—combine relationships and work/errands: get yogurt on a date with one kid while waiting for a youth activity for another; ask a friend to help you make dinner for someone instead of doing all of it yourself; take a kid to clean a house with you; take a friend to do family history

IX. Just do something

Your home is your place of refuge.  Reduce the distractions in order to focus on the most important work.  Ask Heavenly Father to help you manage your household better and to give you motivation and direction.  He will magnify your efforts and will help you discern what you can do without.  Follow His counsel to simplify and put the most important things foremost in your life.

Organizational sites you might enjoy: abowlfulloflemons.com, realsimple,com, mrspollyrogers.com, thecreativityexchange.com   

Mothers Who Know by Julie Beck, October 2007 General Conference

Of Things that Matter Most by President Uchdorf, October 2010 General Conference