My favorite thing to do with the big kids this fall has been snuggling up together to read the Little House books. I have such vivid memories of doing the same thing with my mom, a quarter century ago! We’re almost through Little House on the Prairie, and though I’ve read it over 20 times, I feel like I’m reading it with new eyes. You guys, do you realize how amazing Caroline Ingalls (“Ma”) was? She was totally isolated from her family and friends, doctors, church, or stores, keeping house in the most primitive of situations as her husband literally spent a year building the house around her. And then they had to leave it all. As portrayed by Laura, Ma never complains. She chooses to be grateful for the necessities Pa provides. (Oh good! A prairie hen, that I’ll have to butcher, and pluck, and cook over an open fire because I don’t have a stove, and serve with the same three staples and spices I’ve been using for all of our meals for the past four months!) She ensures that her daughters have complete respect for their father. She chooses to be content in her circumstances, and she makes the home a lovely, peaceful place for the whole family. I really want to be the kind of wife and mom that Ma was.
One thing that I’ve learned in the past eight-and-a-half years of marriage is that my attitude largely sets the atmosphere of the home. In our early years of marriage, I had this ideal that we’d go to the grocery store together, that we’d cook together (or that Derek would do the dishes after I cooked), and that he’d be home to focus on OUR FAMILY at 5 pm every night, and all weekend. I can’t believe I was so naive. (In my defense, I had friends at the time whose husbands really did do all those things. Fortunately, I came to realize that they were the rare exceptions rather than the norm!) I got such a bad attitude when my hardworking husband got stuck working late, had to go in on the weekend, or didn’t wash the dishes because he’d put in a 14 hour day at work and just wanted to collapse. The reality of our life, especially since the kids came along, is that we are lucky to have Daddy home by the time we start dinner, because we have to eat when the kids are hungry, not when it’s convenient for the adults. Late nights are less common now that he’s teaching, but they are common enough that I have developed a firm plan of attack for putting three kids to bed by myself. Weekends are ideally for family time, but Derek has been out of town six of the last ten weekends on work trips. Admittedly, this is not ideal. I used to get so worked up about it, and I’m sure I’ve complained to many of you many times about feeling like a single mom. But in general, I’m realizing that if I choose to be cheerful about it and supportive of Derek when he does manage to get home, our home atmosphere is calmer than when I whine, complain to him the moment he comes in the door, and generally show the kids that Mommy doesn’t have it all together. I need to focus on when my husband deep cleans the baby’s room without being asked (This weekend, he was wiping down walls, moving furniture, and steam cleaning the floors! Have I mentioned I’m madly in love with him?!) or washes up a huge pile of dishes after I’ve spent all afternoon cooking with three little “helpers,” or offers to run out at 9 pm to pick something up from the grocery store so I don’t have to drag the kids out the next day. And as I’ve said in the past, our family life is SO much healthier now than when Derek was slaving away at the big law firm–the kids see him almost every day, and he’s able to lead family worship before bed and knows most of our major routines. It’s all about perspective. On the harder days, I have to remind myself that I am getting to stay home with my kids because my husband works so hard to provide for us. And back to Ma Ingalls, my life is so much easier, on every level, than hers was! I really am incredibly blessed!