Longing for Summer

August 26, 2013September 30, 2015 Lindsey P. BrackettLeave a comment

Sunshine is streaming through the fingerprints on my front door and spilling all over the streaky floor. The pool in the backyard is full of rain water, and the swings are stirring gently with the late August breeze that kindles memories of campfires and light sweaters.

Summer’s slowly sifting away bit by bit.

Two weeks ago I could hardly wait for it. For school and routine and structure and those few precious hours I can snatch between naptime and snacktime to work and enjoy the quiet.

But last night we stayed out a bit late and this morning the forecast is for mostly sunny and I wish more than I longed for routine that I could buckle them all into that van with its peeling paint and slip away on some hiking trail and emerge at a lakeside to dig our toes into the only sand they’ve seen all summer.

Why is it the longing never comes until I realize it’s over? Why is it that I can’t ever seem to wrap my mind and heart around the slow pace and embrace it for all it’s worth because it’s so simple?

Why do I let activities and camps and far too many other good things crowd out all my days that could be spent in the woods or by the pool or on the back deck with popsicles and the water hose?

Why do I let tantrums and whining and frustrations over lost library books dampen my spirit so much that I forget how much I enjoy just having them all home and under my roof?

I don’t want to forget how much we need each summer. How much we need lazy days and pajama days and ice cream for dinner. So I’ve writing this to remind me and to remind you–

Each summer there’s beauty laced between meltdowns and fights and your mama exploding temper.

Don’t wait until summer is over to find it.

Congratulations to Sheila Beck who won the Real Food for the Real Homemaker cookbook giveaway! I hope you enjoy it and use it to make me something yummy if I ever make it over for a visit! I wish everyone could win, but since that can’t happen, you can go here to order your own copy. You’ll get a PDF file, a Kindle version, the recipe cards, and the excel spreadsheet to help you plan a frugal grocery trip and a simply homemade menu. Enjoy!

Linking up today with Gracelaced Mondays and The Better Mom.

linkups · motherhood · perfectly imperfect · reflections

When All You Want is Perfect Pancakes (and Maybe a Perfect Life): Behind the Scenes

August 7, 2013September 30, 2015 Lindsey P. Brackett3 Comments

I was supposed to make grits casserole. (Which is this amazingly delicious way to eat grits and has been known to win over even the most cynical of skeptics and really it deserves a shout out on the recipe page.) But someone had eaten all the cheese. Maybe it was Amelia during snack time or Joshua for lunch or maybe I just overestimated what could be done with one 16 oz block of cheddar in a few days. Either way, I had to toss that plan and since I’d promised my husband a hot breakfast before he left for work, pancakes seemed like an easy out.

Except that lately my go-to recipe is Pioneer Woman’s sour cream pancakes. Guess what?

Yeah, there’s no sour cream either.

So, I didn’t figure this was really a problem, I would just make the old standby that my mother whipped out in fluffy stacks by the dozen on Saturday mornings up until recently when she traded her spatula for a spork and the Appalachian Trail.

Buttermilk pancakes, no problem.

Also, no recipe. Mama doesn’t write things down; she just cooks and then shrugs and says, “You know, it’s like biscuits but not exactly.”

Not exactly is the point. I know where I went wrong. I overestimated the flour and while it wasn’t the biggest deal in the world, for some reason yesterday, when all I wanted to do was be able to make a simple batch of perfect pancakes, it was the end of the world. Maybe I should back up and admit that I was crying before I even started this process, and when my confused husband wondered what in the world I could be so upset about at 6:45 a.m. before the children were even awake, all I had was tears and fumbling explanations about email and being tired and how I just wanted something to turn out right. For some reason, the past week had just been hard. No reason, really. Just one of those dips into the valley of despair that colored everything gray with frustration.

He ate those thick and chewy opposite of light and fluffy pancakes anyway. He kissed me goodbye and urged me to have a good day. I dumped the rest of the disaster in the trash and started over.

With a recipe for Farmhouse Pancakes I found on a quick Pinterest search.

This time I followed directions. I didn’t second-guess or substitute or waver. I simply did what I was told and earned the promised result: the perfect pancakes I was aiming for all along.

I know I treat my life like that failed batch of pancakes sometimes. I want to just be able to dump all the mess-ups in the trash and start over with a clear and easy set of directions that fulfill my longing for perfection.

But there’s no simple recipe to follow that will guarantee me a life free from all the stress and fatigue that makes me imperfect.

If there was, there would be no need for grace. No need for unconditional love. No need for forgiveness.

I’d love to tell you that I cried a little more, prayed a little harder, and spent the rest of the day thankful for my revelation. The truth is I loaded them up and took them waterfall hiking on a nearby paved trail because I needed to walk away from the mess of the house and the press of those four walls.

I’m sure people thought we were sweet. There were probably some who thought I was either brave or crazy for bringing them here by myself. But the truth behind this picture is it reminds me that even when I follow directions, the promised result can take a lifetime to achieve.

After all, that glorious waterfall’s still pressing on trying to find its way.

I might make perfect pancakes tomorrow, but a perfect life?

I’m learning that there’s no such thing as a perfect life. Really, the perfect life has a lot of imperfect moments framed with a whole lot of grace.

Linking up with the Behind the Scenes community over at Crystal Stine’s today. Check it out and be inspired to tell the truth behind the picture.

Friday Five · gus · motherhood

Story {Five Minute Friday}

August 2, 2013 Lindsey P. Brackett6 Comments

It’s Friday and that means it’s time to write for five minutes, no editing, no backtracking, no overthinking. Lisa-Jo provides a prompt and in this community we write and then we encourage one another. So link it up, friends, and share the love.

This week’s prompt is….

Story

Usually I’m a good girl, a rule follower, a yes, yes, yes, responder who just wants to please and takes everything as it comes. I only really said no once.

I said no to the curly haired, dimple cheeked, screeches at his big sisters when he wants more juice baby boy sleeping in the crib down the hall.

I didn’t want him at first. And that’s the bare ugly truth of what is becoming my story. When I found out I was pregnant, I cried for days. I hid in the shower and sat on the floor and could barely hold up my head because my story wasn’t supposed to be the girl who quit her job and was just a stay at home mom. My story was supposed to be doing great things and writing profoundness and making differences and finally getting to breathe after three girls and a brief career.

I was ready for my story. What I wanted.

Thank God I’m not in charge of what I want. Thank God He knew I needed that baby to be my story of grace and redemption and brokenness and life and love.

I want him now. I want him to be wholly the man the Lord has set him apart to be. So much more than this weary selfish mama could ever raise him to be.

I want my story to become his story; how there’s always a plan and a purpose and a gift when we say yes to God.

linkups · Margin Mom · motherhood

On Being Intentional {My Search for Margin: Part 5}

July 29, 2013September 30, 2015 Lindsey P. Brackett3 Comments

For all my other posts in this possibly never-ending series on how I’m aiming for more white space and less smudges in my life, click here.

I have the best intentions. I really do. I love a list. A plan. A box that can be neatly checked off or better yet a strong black line through a finished task.

It’s just that I’m really so very bad at finishing.

I’m great at starting. Enthusiasm, energy, get ‘er done and all that. It’s why the start of a new school year was always my favorite time to be a teacher. It’s new, exciting, so many possibilities.

Kind of like my head full of blog and novel and ebook ideas that aren’t going anywhere because I can get started, but I can’t seem to get finished.

I like to blame all this on lack of time. Except I know incredibly successful bloggers and writers who also work full-time jobs or have more kids than I.

So then I like to blame my unfinished tasks on principles. As in, I’m investing in my kids right now so I don’t really have time to invest in anything else.

Yeah, that would work if I believed it. Truth is, I am investing in my kids and in being there and available to them. But I also quit a job that gave us another income and health insurance so that I could pursue the hearts of my children and the heart of my scariest God-sized dreams.

So, I’ve begun making one small change to how I approach my issue with time since that’s my go-to excuse.

It’s not about how much time I have; it’s about how I choose to spend it.

Time’s a currency. I can choose to spend it wisely on something that will set me up and get me ahead and make me feel that I have accomplished more in my day than just sweeping the floor ten times before dinner. Or I can choose to spend it on something that will give me a few fleeting moments of pleasure but leave me frustrated and guilty in the end.

So for the past couple of weeks, when I sit down to write, I have begun treating it like work. I make a list of what I need to accomplish and I finish it. Or I at least try really hard and make myself be intentional about trying to finish.

A couple Saturdays ago, Joshua stayed home and supervised room cleaning and I went to the library and worked intently for two solid hours. I actually set the alarm on my phone and allotted myself a set amount of time to finish my different tasks from compiling the posts I want to turn into an ebook on Embracing Motherhood to breaking down the play I’m directing this Christmas by scenes and characters. I felt so much better when I left simply because I had paid attention and been intentional about using my time wisely. I had finished what I had started.

So that’s my (not so) new revelation: to be conscious of the time I have available and to be intentional about what I want to use it for.

After all, nap time can be about more than folding another load of laundry.

Linking up with these lovely ladies. Check it out.

motherhood · organizing

The Great Clothing Purge of 2013

July 18, 2013September 30, 2015 Lindsey P. Brackett2 Comments

The other day I had this major meltdown over the grocery budget and trying to figure out how to buy diapers and paper towels and toilet paper and actual food with the amount we take out in cash every week. And then when I had calmed down and was headed to the backyard for some reason or another, I had to pause and move aside the boxes of hand me downs blocking the door.

And I realized if there’s one way God has provided for us in excess, it’s in my children’s closets.

We’re often gifted hand me downs, love that, and I can rock a clearance or a consignment with the best of the money saving moms. So if you look at how my kids dress, I wouldn’t imagine someone would think we ever struggle.

There are shirts from Justice and jeans from Gap and dresses from Children’s Place in that pile. There are brand new winter boots and three winter coats and complete Gymboree outfits down to the hairbow. There are clothes to cover Amelia until first grade. (fyi, she’s only three.)

When I finally got motivated to start sorting and purging, I was amazed at how much there was, and how something as simple as hand me downs could multiply into such a blessing.

I know I keep more than we need because I play the “what if” game in my mind. What if one of them suddenly grows and nothing fits? What if there’s a fire and all we have left is what’s been put in storage? What if we actually take a family vacation and I don’t want to do laundry?

What if I’m a hoarder of God’s blessings?

What if He wants me to bless someone else who struggles with day-to-day expenses but would be relieved to know clothing their baby girl can be crossed off that list?

So I went through all the girls’ clothes from size 2 to size 10. I purged out items I love but they won’t wear. Items they say they like but never wear. Items they don’t need multiples of and items that aren’t really our style. I piled away items that weren’t good enough for consignment and took them to the local thrift store. I separated the excess by size and then I hand-picked a bag of fabulous finds for a friend who needs to cross this worry off her list. I gave it to her husband that afternoon, and still, there was so much left.

I’ve got some others in mind to pass on to, and I’m sure I’ll consign a good bit and be grateful for the extra cash that puts in our pockets to offset the back-to-school expenses that will soon be upon us.

But, this fall I won’t have to buy jeans or long sleeve shirts or sweaters for any of them. I can concentrate on new school shoes for the big girls, a raincoat for Madelynne since hers will pass to Annabelle, and they might get some new socks and underwear. (Because, you know, some things don’t get passed.)

There’s relief in the simple realization that I don’t have to worry about where their next pair of jeans is coming from because the great God who paints skies and swirls fingerprints has already taken care of that one trite need for me.

Motivated by this post from The Purposeful Mom. So how many clothes do you think kids really need?