Monthly Archives: May 2012

The Soldier and the Seed

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Usually, I take to the garden around Mother’s Day. I put a seedling in soil, see my reflection in the silver of the garden spade, and think on where I am in the work of cultivating my children. My husband and I plant and water and know all the while that it’s God who causes the increase.

This year I was a late bloomer. May kept me on the move: a weekend trip to visit my newborn nephew in the Southwest, back home quick for extended family birthday parties, a friend’s baby dedication and a hectic Mother’s Day, leading worship at a local women’s conference, and an overnight trip with friends to the Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore. All these things left my veggie garden blank as an old battlefield.

Finally, here at the end of May, on Memorial Day, the schedule says “plant”. The context leads to a whole different kind of contemplation.

I hold a seed in hand, a tiny apostrophe that hints at hidden things. I dunk it in water and pinch it between my fingertips, feel its smallness. With this, I need no spade. I need only to punch my thumb into the black dirt and bury it.

Every time I do this, old words sprout fresh in my mind, the words of a soldier poet.

Even as the seed must die
To yield the noble tree
So must I in earnest try
To yield a part of me

This is when the swords are beat back into plowshares. We lay down our arms, give in, not submitting to an enemy, but rather yielding ourselves to the fulness of who we are meant to be.

When the light beams strong and hits at perfect angles, when all the conditions are right, the seed lets down its guard and welcomes water. It surrenders itself in baptism. It soaks in droplet upon droplet until it can bear no more. Then, it bursts open, new life coming up.

In each and every line I write
I give, then live, then lose
To feel the thrill, the stir of life
Within the poem’s hues

My grandfather, part of The Greatest Generation, knew this truth from his boyhood on the farm, that the seed must lose itself before it can bear fruit. This means something for the soldier who gives to the point of shedding his own blood, the poet who must let go and share the soul in vulnerability, and even the parent, who a hundred times each day must die to personal desires in order to nurture needy little ones underfoot. Every surrender is a planting.

There is within my poetry
A soft, still, sweet release
But as the seed dies for the tree
The poet, too, must cease

In my garden on Memorial Day, a picture of sacrifice settles in. Under the soil in a matter of days, hidden suffering will burst into sweet release. Here, a tiny seed gives itself up and goes down to its grave, soon to be raised in glory.

{“Germination” by Duane Burl Stimer (1924-2006)}

Laundry Dunes, Everyday Vacations…and a Summer Book Club!!!

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I can count on one hand the times in my married life I’ve had a perfect closet. In that closet, everything has a place: short sleeves on one rod, long sleeves on another, dresses and skirts on another. Belts and strings are tied up at the waist, never dangling low. Sleeves are smoothed out. Hangers are equidistant. Each rod is an array of color in the order of roygbiv.

Every time I’ve gotten it to that point, I’ve always had plans for keeping it that way, but really it’s like sweeping the the beach. Just as soon as I think I’ve got my spot smoothed out, the winds of busyness keep moving the sand about, and I just can’t keep up. Within a week, the clothes are lingering long in the basket and the dryer steam cycle has to save the day, springing them to life again.

As we are packing for a day trip to the Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore this weekend, in my house, laundry is piling like those sand dunes. Do you know how dunes are formed? Sand moves through the air on bursts of wind and stops when it comes upon an obstacle, like the trunk of a tree or a large rock. And then it builds.

For me, that “obstacle” is creativity and the written word. Each day, when nap time comes around and the kids are tucked quietly (well, on a good day, anyway!) in their rooms, I retreat to my notebook and pencil, my keyboard and screen, a little vacation in the middle of my day.

In my last post, I mentioned Anne Morrow Lindbergh’s affirmation that women need solitude in order to “find again the true essence of themselves”. Sometimes that may mean taking some time to get away alone like she did on Captiva Island in the early 1950s. Sometimes it means resting from our work in the middle of our day to day and taking time to find our own contemplative corner.

On vacation, domestic work is cut to a minimum. I make simple meals, dirtying only a few dishes. Clean up is quick and easy. I bring a minimal wardrobe and wear things more than once. I forget about make-up and perfectly-coiffed hair, and instead let the wind give me the tousled look.

Of her own vacation, Anne said, “I find I don’t bustle about with unnecessary sweeping and cleaning here. I am no longer aware of the dust. I have shed my Puritan conscience about absolute tidiness and cleanliness. Is it possible that, too, is a material burden?”

When nap time is over and I return from my mini-vacation, I do have to work a bit at the laundry to keep us from getting lost in it. I simplify and speed up the task by keeping myself from that Puritan perfectionism. If a shirt comes out of the dryer inside out, that is how I hang it. The seconds I save on each item add up into valuable minutes of time working at my real passion. My creative call may be an obstacle to a perfectly clean house, but I’m willing to live in view of the laundry dunes and a few inside out shirts in order to feel the breeze in my hair and sand in my toes on this daily little vacation all my own.

I hope you’ll join me in exploring more of these ideas as we dig into Anne Morrow Lindbergh’s classic book Gift from the Sea in our brand new Stories Preserved Summer Book Club!  This memoir helps women contemplate how to live a simple life in the midst of a complicated world. Take a virtual vacation with us this summer as we ponder such topics as love, marriage, the work of the mother, friendship, the creative life, simplicity, solitude, generosity, communion, youth, and age, all through the metaphor of beautiful seashells found on a quiet island. This is a short, refreshing read perfect for an easy, breezy summer book club. It’ll be our own little getaway.

I will write on a different chapter each Monday throughout June and July. Make sure to sign up right now by subscribing in the sidebar and commenting below. Then you’ll want to comment on each Monday’s Gift from the Sea post. Each comment will get you one entry in the drawing for a Gift from the Sea prize package at the end of summer. The more Gift from the Sea posts you comment on, the more entries you get!

{Linking up today with Hayley at The Tiny Twig and Jessi at Naptime Diaries for a series on Giving Up on Good (in exchange for something better).}

Road Tripping Mama

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My husband may as well have been driving us through the construction lane, dodging orange barrels and steamrollers, quaking the tires over unfinished asphalt, and slamming the brakes every 30 seconds, because that’s what my brain felt like it was doing with the barrage of demands from the backseat.

I’d reach into the toy barrel and grasp for anything to calm the kids, to buy myself just a few minutes of that open road feeling…and then they’d drop the toy. I’d either have to pull a neck muscle trying to fetch it, or grit my teeth and listen to them gripe. Finally, I’d muster up the energy to go for the toy and two minutes later they were yelling for something else. And, you know, yelling can be contagious.

I’ve heard it said that an introvert needs up to seven seconds of pause before responding to a request. So, by the time I’d strained myself to address one of the passengers’ complaints, we were on to a whole new bump in the road. The mental brakes would slam again and there I was with whiplash.

In her lovely little memoir, Gift from the Sea, Anne Morrow Lindbergh wrote, “Woman instinctively wants to give, yet resents giving herself in small pieces….giving herself purposelessly.”

And that is how I tend to give when my mind is spinning. With over-stimulation we are at the mercy of centrifugal force. Sensory overload flings us to the outer reaches and leaves us stuck in another object’s motion, unable to respond, unable to rest.

Parent and child both need a way to find peace and purpose in the whirl of look-at-me color coming at tired eyes, rough textures chafing the skin, raucous noise overwhelming sensitive ears. Overload comes when we are in a passive position, receiving input without an active outflow of energy.

I had thrown together a barrel of toys with no particular plan on how to use them best. I was flinging myself out in small purposeless pieces, like the road debris that clinked against our wheels.

I knew it was against all southern sensibility, but I had to do it. I opened the window and stuck my head out into the wind on our detour through the back roads of Alabama. My hair plastered itself across my eyes, a blindfold to the scenery. Rushing air rattled over my ears, washing out the sound of whimpers, whines and wails from inside the car. Mile markers and magnolias zoomed past me, but I myself felt still for a minute.

Lindbergh suggested that we women need solitude to pull ourselves together and to find our center, seeing as we serve as the center of a “whole web of human relationships.” She went on to quote writer Charles Morgan whose words encourage us to be still “as the axis of a revolving wheel is still.”

On this year’s drive, I was determined to be still like the middle of that wheel, calm in the middle of commotion. And so, I spent weeks mulling it over, brainstorming with friends and relatives, borrowing from neighbors and even taking notes while watching Mary Poppins. I gathered the tools for fun activities. I spun the wheels of creativity. I revved up ideas for meaningful interaction. I prayed for stamina and reminded myself of the importance of finding some sort of solitude on the trip, even if it was just with earplugs. This drive wouldn’t drive me crazy. I was road ready….

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TEN WAYS TO KEEP A ROAD TRIPPING MAMA OUT OF THE LOONEY BIN

1. TURN YOUR ROAD TRIP INTO A PARTY: Grab a couple of balloons (I filled ours with helium we had leftover from a party). With a Sharpie in hand, chat with the kids about your destination and draw silly faces on the balloons. We used sunshine eyes, a fishy nose and an orange slice mouth to coordinate with our Florida fun in the sun destination. To add even more to the festivities, we decorated the van with window clings for daytime driving and glow in the dark stars for the night.

2. KEEP THE EXCITEMENT CONTAINED: Get a metal lunch box and call it a looney bin– it may just help keep you out of one. Use the bin for every toy, every activity, every snack. Every half hour or so, have the kids hand in the bin with the previous toy or activity. Clean out the bins and put in the next item. The element of surprise really worked for my kiddos. They couldn’t wait to see what new thing waited inside the bin. To make things easier, I packed groups of activities in separate zippered envelopes so that I didn’t have to have the whole barrel of toys at my feet. And when the kids got a little too demanding, I set the timer and let them know they could ask me to help out with two things during a 30-minute time-frame. Boundaries like that helped bring a bit more sanity to our road trip.

3. KEEP THEM MOVING: To keep the circulation flowing, lead the kids in nursery rhymes or songs with motions like “Row, Row, Row Your Boat” or “The Itsy Bitsy Spider”. We also did other activities like pretending to swim by moving our arms and legs in different strokes. Simple squeeze toys (and even baby teethers) have also helped my kids get through stressful moments on the road. And from the looks of that bumble bee, it seems one of my kids was a little more stressed than the other!

4. KEEP THEM FOCUSED: One of our favorite little toys is a row of tiny wooden blocks you can turn and twist it into different shapes and then undo to try it again. It’s called a fidget and it can keep my kids happy for more than half an hour. The kids also loved the rubber band board we borrowed from our neighbor, the heirloom fabric activity book that my mom made, and the transportation lacing cards. Then there were the robot bugs that my little boy had his eye on for months. He almost flipped out of his booster seat when he opened the bin to find the little critter. Finally, to get the most out of our metal bins, I brought magnetic blocks, magnetic numbers, a magnetic car and a magnetic dress up kit…all big hits.

5. FEED THEM WELL: Pack healthy snacks to keep your roadies feeling good. Clementines were easy to peel and were a fun way to celebrate our drive to Florida. I soaked and roasted raw pecans (Nourishing Traditions method) and mixed them with preservative-free organic raisins for our drive through Georgia. I brought along applesauce squeezers and cheese sticks (kept in a cooler with ice packs), which are regular favorites around our house. One of my kids’ favorites came from a neighbor’s idea for a wearable snack. On long trips, she has her kids string their Cheerios into necklaces before they can eat them. With my young children, I opted to use pipe cleaners with one end curled under to make Cheerios bracelets. At the end of snack time, they would hand over the bins so I could wipe them clean before the next activity.

6. PROMOTE INTERACTION: When kids’ eyes are glued to a little screen, they miss out on the the fun around them. While movies at first seem to have a tranquilizing effect, the more we watch, the more irritable the kids seem to get. To help them interact with their environment, we gave the kids old digital cameras and encouraged them to take pictures of each other or the scenery. A set of binoculars and a prism helped them to look around and take in the sights big and small. With finger puppets, the kids can put on a mini puppet show with their bin as the stage, or their characters can interact with their siblings’ finger puppets. You just have to watch that it doesn’t turn into a heated game of thumb war. ;) I also did a read-aloud with a book we had multiple copies of. The kids enjoyed following along, looking at the pictures as I read.

7. PLAY UP YOUR DESTINATION: For the Florida stretch of highway, I put sea creature sand molds and Play-doh in the bin. Then there were the beach and coral reef sticker book scenes. I also made color copies of a sea turtle page from a coloring book and then another one of sea shells, folded each page up and, for an extra element of surprise, hid the ocean-themed coloring page in an envelope and put it in the bin alongside some colored pencils. For craft time, I brought along some construction paper cut into shapes, scrapbooking scissors (won’t cut fabric!), tape, and toilet paper tubes (with slits cut for positioning the construction paper) to use in designing a toilet paper tube fish.

8. MAKE SOME NOISE: To balance out the times we found ourselves shushing the kids, we set aside some time for purposeful noise by bringing along percussion instruments and some fun kids’ songs for them to play along with. And when the noise was too much for my sensitive ears, I put on our trusty drummer’s noise-cancellation headphones or slipped in a pair of earplugs! Somehow having the sound muffled made things a little more manageable for this noise-sensitive mama.

9. MAKE THE MOST OF STOPS: While you want to make stops as efficient as possible in order to get to your final destination in a timely manner, doing something active and fun at your stops can make all the difference in your travelers’ moods on the next stretch of the drive. One friend of mine takes a soccer ball for the kids to kick around at rest stops. I brought along bubbles to give the kids something to chase. And we used some of our stops to decorate the van with window clings and glow in the dark stars. And sometimes stops will lend themselves to an impromptu activity, like hunting pine cones or socializing with fellow travelers and their puppy dogs.

10. MAKE THE NIGHTTIME SHINE: I don’t know any other kids who are like this, but mine didn’t sleep one.single.minute of our 19 hour drive back from Florida this year. Luckily, when dark came and they still refused to shut their eyes, I had plenty to keep them happy until we got to our hotel. They loved the glow bracelets and had fun linking them together to make a circle the size of a hula hoop. We put on calm music to promote an atmosphere of rest and used book lights, something completely new to them, for some reading time. Another option is to use kids’ hand-squeeze flashlights. And then there were the glow in the dark stars that we’d used to decorate the car earlier.

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WIN YOUR OWN ROAD TRIP LOONEY BIN

Alright, Message in a Mason Jar readers, here is your chance to win your own Road Trip Looney Bin ($55 value)! I’ve put together a fun collection of some of my favorite items for keeping the kids happy in the car. This metal lunchbox includes your own aromatherapy play clay, hand-squeeze cow flashlight, Indestructibles book, fidget, flying pig finger puppet with magnetic snout, prism, shaker, glow bracelets and Cheerios bracelet kit.

Just subscribe to Message in a Mason Jar by entering your email in the box on the sidebar (or let me know if you’re an RSS subscriber) and comment on this post by 11:59 pm on Monday, May 28, 2012 for your chance to win. For extra entries, share this post on Facebook, tweet this post tagging me (@darcywileywords), and/or pin this post on Pinterest. Be sure to re-comment here for each extra entry and let me know where you shared the post. Ready, set, go!

Thanks to all who participated in Message in a Mason Jar’s first-ever giveaway! The giveaway is now closed, but feel free to keep sharing your road trip sanity ideas in the comments section as others may continue to stop by. The winner was chosen at random from this post’s eligible comments listed in the order received. And, without further ado, the winner is…Tristi! Congratulations and thanks again to all who’ve chimed in.

The Wardrobe Picked Out for You {Free Baby Shower Printables!}

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Her dress stretched taut over her belly like fabric tightened across a needlepoint hoop. It was her third hiding in there, a girl after two boys. But no matter how many times I had seen it happen (or felt it happen), it could never get old, the chance to witness this moment by moment making, expanding, knitting together of a life in secret.

High chair, car seat, and crib were all tried and tested by two big brothers in their own babyhood, sure things for baby sister. All she really needed was a little pink and pretty in the nursery closet. And so, I hung tissue paper tutus from the ceiling and meditated on the words from the invitation, how the great Designer, He who arrays the lilies in splendor, has a wardrobe picked out for us.

I balanced a pastel yellow romper on the spinning hoop that held relics of family history. I had seen this outfit in recent baby photos and those of two generations past on my sister-in-law’s side. Yes, three generations of mothers had shooed away stains, repaired weak seams, and miraculously kept the outfit in one piece. And they did the same for the children who wore it, in compassion tending to scraped knees and sensitive souls coming apart at the seams. Next to the romper swayed my satin baby shoes, small enough for preemie feet, a token of kindness brought to my mother as she bowed over my incubator. Across the circle’s diameter, loops of yellow fastened my sister-in-law’s sunbonnet to the rack, cotton and lace held together with hidden threads, a head-covering of humility shielding glory of the sun. I rubbed my fingers over the hem of my sister’s pink baby dress. A tiny embroidered doe looked back in quiet strength, that mysterious thing our mother passed down. Nearby, a single leather toddler shoe dangled alone, its twin lost in Grandpa’s boyhood. It hung as a tribute to dedication and discipline, the will to keep running even when you are only half ready.

We lined up for brunch and talked with our mouths full. We decorated little dress cookies in polka dots and floral motifs. We guessed at the origins of the heirloom baby clothes and said our oohs and ahs at new pieces that would someday turn keepsake. And then we gave her something to hang it all on, bringing out all of the good stuff we wanted to see in this baby girl that had so beautifully shown up in her mama’s life already.

“So, chosen by God for this new life of love, dress in the wardrobe God picked out for you: compassion, kindness, humility, quiet strength, discipline.” -Colossians 3:12

We picked our words and wrote them for keeps on heirloom hangers for baby’s closet. I thought of the hard work my sister-in-law had put in to get her Master’s Degree in Accounting and all the late nights studying to pass the test to become a CPA, how she had saved up to buy herself a Cadillac in college, how she had trained hard to compete in track and field in high school. I knew what I was going to write on my baby wardrobe hanger. This baby was going to know the happy side of discipline, the joy that comes at the end of the pain.

When my sister-in-law packed up her things for the hospital, she tossed in the discipline hanger and a pretty little baby dress. She didn’t know it then, but she had grabbed that hanger for a reason. Motherly muscles clenched short and tight, hardly a break between. She wasn’t sure how to get through it. She was counting on the epidural, but it failed. Contractions stayed strong, rolling over one another. She thought she hadn’t prepared for this. But she had. She looked at the words on the hanger and her thoughts spanned years. She remembered breathing through runner’s cramps, enduring long nights of studying to get the grade, and the sacrifice of saving up for something she really wanted. She had worn this before, this dress of discipline. And she could wear it again now. She could put on the thing God picked out for her, let Him take ragged pain and tailor it into joy.

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How to hostess your own Baby Girl Wardrobe Party:

1. Print invitations from free printable below and fill in your party details in the open space. Send to guests four weeks in advance.

2. Plan your menu. For ours my mom made some delicious varieties of quiche that we paired with a spinach berry salad, ham and cheese tartines with radish, and an orange cake (which I forgot to decorate with the orange slices. Oops.). To drink we had sweet tea and, of course, pink lemonade.

3. Buy enough wooden heirloom hangers so that each guest can decorate one, plus set aside a few extras for decor. Get thin-line permanent markers in orange, pink, brown, black and other colors that match the theme of the party. Print Colossians 3:12 table tents from the free printables below. Have guests choose their favorite characteristic and relate it to mother and baby, coming up with a personal story or words of encouragement. Have them write their chosen word on the front of the hanger and their words of encouragement and their signature on the back. (Optional: Have each attendee share her words as the guest of honor opens her particular gift.)

4. To make tissue paper tutus, follow the instructions for making tissue paper flowers. Simply leave the two halves of each flower separate and you’ll have little tissue paper skirts. Print the GIRL letters from the free printables below, cut them out, glue them back to back and punch holes in the top. Use ribbon to tie wooden hangers to removable hooks on the ceiling, Then tie letters and tutus to each hanger. See photo in blog entry above.

5. Make dress-shaped cookies. (I got my cookie cutter here.) Get small squeeze tubes of decorating gel in a variety of colors from your local craft store. After attendees decorate the dresses, have the guest of honor choose her favorite. For the winner, you may want to have a wardrobe prize handy, such as a fashion scarf, bracelet or hat.

6. Gather vintage baby wardrobe pieces from both sides of the family. Hang them either on a rod across a doorway or on a hoop hanging from a stairwell. (Optional: have vintage photos of various family members as babies attached to the corresponding outfit.) Have guests write down their guesses for who wore the item and what year. Guest(s) with the most correct win a prize.

Click below to download free Baby Girl Wardrobe Party printables!

BabyWardrobePartybyDarcyWiley1of2

BabyWardrobePartybyDarcyWiley2of2

Danger Is Not My Middle Name

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Danger is not my middle name. Mine rings of safety– ”Lee,” the one whose feet tread nice and slow through grassy meadows. I am the cautious firstborn who once trembled at the thought of removing the Huffy training wheels, who accidentally did the splits the first (and last) time I put on roller blades, who waited to get a driver’s license until age 17, who turns my knuckles white holding onto the assist handle when I’m riding in the passenger seat of the car.

Last weekend on a trip to Phoenix, when my baby brother and I were set to go fetch some late night dinner for the family, I pictured us getting in the car, clicking our seat belts and closing ourselves in behind thick steel doors. Instead, he handed me a helmet and backed the Vespa out of the garage. The scooter? On real roads? With no seatbelt? He patted the seat. I gulped down a breath.

I thought of the story of Eleanor Roosevelt on my shelf back home, the once timid First Lady who said, “Do one thing every day that scares you.” I remembered the black and white sketches of her sneaking away from the safety of the Secret Service and putting on her driving gloves…and then flying co-pilot under cover of night with her friend Amelia.

You’ve got to live a little. I exhaled, then saddled up and circled my arms around my little brother, trying not to squeeze too hard. We were off. Strands of hair rushed behind me, flapping like a little European scarf. The super moon was rising high, spotlighting our path. I couldn’t keep the corners of my mouth from rising with it.

We grazed the perimeter of farm-land, felt the pockets of cool air where well-watered crops breathed the heat of day away. We leaned around corners and righted ourselves. Cars zoomed past. Our tires jolted over a bump and I cheered that I was still on board.

By the end of my 30-minute vacation from my safe, comfy, no-risk life, I almost felt I could drive the thing myself. We had gone to the restaurant and back…and I lived. I took off the helmet and pulled my fingers through tangled hair.

Inside the door of the house, I watched as my baby brother’s baby was passed from person to person. In full newborn trust, he went with the flow, not flinching at the movement. And I’m guessing that trend will continue for little Charles Danger Cross. With his risk-taker dad and his adventuresome moniker along for the ride, he may well opt out of the usual firstborn sense of caution. Still, I can’t help but cuddle him careful…even if Danger is his middle name.