Learning from Mistakes

I love working in the kitchen. Cooking, baking--I love it all and often make our meals from scratch. There's something therapeutic about kneading a batch of dough or creating a delicious pie or concocting a comforting soup. It's a creative outlet for me and relieves stress. It's also a way I show love to my family. Just watch the way their eyes light up when they see a plate of warm chocolate chip cookies or fall-off-the-bone bbq ribs. It's magical.

But I don't cook like that every day. 

Wednesdays are busy. School, chores, church. Leighton gets home from work, jumps in the shower, gets dressed, and we're out the door. There's no time for major clean up before church, and there's not much time afterward either. Rush in, snack, pajamas, brush teeth, bed. To save time in both preparing and cleaning, we opt for simple meals. Leftovers, sandwiches, homemade pizza, pasta, fend-for-yourself night. Something. 

This particular Wednesday was no different, except that I wanted to try something new. Well, not a new meal, but a new way of preparing it. 

The Instant Pot has been hugely popular with home cooks lately. Since I have a thing for kitchen gadgets and tools, I was won over by the lure of this magical pot a year ago. I had read rave reviews about this appliance and was excited when the box showed up on our porch. The kids and I tore open the box and carefully pulled out the pot. We oohed and ahhed. 

And then the pot sat there. 

I was intimidated by this thing! It's completely different than other cooking methods and can have a learning curve. There's no way to check doneness without stopping and restarting again. And how long do I cook things? Which setting do I use? Look at all these functions! And you have to decipher all sorts of jargon. QR. NPR. PIP. HP. 

I am trying to use it more, because it actually is convenient once you figure it out. Not everything has been fantastic though. The first time I used it for hard boiled eggs, I ended up with green rings in the yolks. The first time I cooked a pasta dish in it, the meal was a big pile of mush. I've also made under-cooked, crunchy rice and dry, over-cooked pheasant. Impressive, right? Not very appetizing. But those issues were a matter of following someone else's directions and not because I made a "mistake."

 

This Wednesday though, I wanted to use the Instant Pot for macaroni and cheese. When I bake the dish in the oven, I typically make it in the same basic way each time, but not by following a recipe. I change up the shape of the noodle and types of cheese. I never measure. A little of this seasoning. A little of that. But making it in the Pot was completely different. I found a promising recipe and gathered my ingredients. 

The oldest had spent the night at my parents, the toddler was napping, and the middle 3 children and I were playing a rousing game of Sequence for Kids. I was trying to multitask. Not a big deal, I mean, I have 5 children--multitasking is my life. I played a card and walked back to the counter to add an ingredient to the Pot.

"Mom, it's your turn."

It's a fast-paced game. Play a card. Add an ingredient. Play a card. Add an ingredient. Repeat. 

Despite their pleas, I finished up that game and called it quits so I could start getting ready for church before having to complete the next step of the meal. 

A little bit later, I heard the chime signaling that it was time to add the heavy cream and shredded cheese. Easy. Turn on the saute function. Pour, stir, dump, mix. I filled bowls for the kiddos and passed them out. I took a bite myself.

Whoa, is this salty!

My thoughts were mirrored on the faces on my kids. "This is really salty, Mom. Do I have to eat it?"

Well, let's see. We leave for church in 30 minutes. I have no time to cook anything else and you're not even dressed yet. That's a yes.

And there I was applying eye shadow and explaining to Leighton (er, grumbling) how I just have a hard time with this silly appliance. I know how to cook! Yet here I am, still having to look up cooking times and whatnot and following recipes and not liking the outcome anyway. I almost never follow recipes exactly, because I never like how it turns out. And why was it so salty? Do people really think that tastes good? I mean, I followed it exactly! It called for 2 teaspoons--

And that's when I stopped completely. Shock took over. And then laughter.

An image of the measuring spoon I grabbed out of the drawer was not a teaspoon . . . but a tablespoon. Oh. That's right, instead of 2 teaspoons, I used 2 tablespoons, which is the equivalent of 6 teaspoons. SIX. No wonder it was so salty. Huh, I guess it wasn't the recipe's fault after all. 

And I guess I wasn't doing so well multitasking during the game either.

We all gulped down the nearly inedible dish. I bribed the kids to eat faster by offering a piece of chocolate for each of them once they finished. You know, to compensate for the salt and balance it out. Big smiles. Empty bowls. Chocolate. Happy kids.

When we got home from church a few hours later, I was still laughing at myself. I grabbed both a teaspoon and a tablespoon and used my error as a teaching moment with the kids. I explained why it was so important to pay attention in the kitchen. Read the directions. Read the labels. Pay attention. I'm often pointing stuff like that out on Mondays when the kids cook, so this was nothing new. They were standing there listening intently, nodding their cute, little heads. And then I explained my mistake, and they visually could see the size difference and could mentally remember the taste of dinner. And their sweet, little faces broke into huge smiles. 

We all laughed, because, really, what else could we do?

All of a sudden, Alyssa stopped. "Wait. Did you do that on purpose to prove a point?"

Why, yes, yes, I did. 

 Ha. No. I made that mistake honestly by being rushed and not paying attention. But pointing out my fault to my little ones became a perfect example. These teaching moments are what I'm focusing on this year. And if they learn from my mistakes, then it's worth it.

Ok. Eating that much salt may never be worth it, but you get the idea.

These kids need to hear me admit when I make mistakes. Adding too much of an ingredient may not big a major issue, but if we're not willing to admit small faults, how we can ever expect to own major ones. Our kids like to put the blame on others when some mistake is made. It's a human flaw that dates all the way back to the Garden of Eden. We're trying to teach them to admit their mistake, accept the correction, and move on. Learn from it. 

I've since made macaroni and cheese in the Instant Pot, and wouldn't you know, if you don't add triple the suggested amount of salt, it's actually quite tasty, ha. 

We're never going to reach a point in life where we stop making mistakes. The important thing is to learn from them. And don't be afraid to humble yourself, so others can learn from them, too.

Also? Don't use 2 tablespoons of salt for mac & cheese. Trust me. Learn from my mistake.

God Answers Prayer

This week has been rough.

I'm physically and emotionally spent.

And, honestly, I don't see much changing over the next few days. Sometimes parenting is hard. Life is hard. But I don't have to handle it on my own. (Yes, my husband is wonderful and is a hands-on parent, but he has many responsibilities of his own, as well.) Time and time again, when I reach the end of my rope, when I feel like I'm drowning, God is immediately there for comfort. For relief. For help. I can see Him in a big, real way. I know that He cares. When I finally come to Him broken, I can imagine Him saying, "What took you so long?"  

Too often, I think, I try to do too much on my own. Raising and schooling 5 little kids is busy. Throw in a week like this past and it can get overwhelming. I have piles of laundry to be put away and dishes to be washed. The kitchen floor needs to be swept and the carpet throughout the house needs to be vacuumed. Again.

So what am I doing writing instead of caring for my home?

I stayed home today with a sick little boy. My other little loves are singing tonight during church. I was sad to miss it, but promised to listen online to the live stream of the service. I kissed them goodbye, tossed yet another load of laundry in the washer, and cuddled my baby.

I watched the clock so as not to miss their song. Then my little guy had another episode, and it was not pretty. I washed him up, changed his clothes, cleaned the mess on the carpet, and put him down to sleep just in time for the song to start.

The most beautiful sound came through the speakers.

Oh, it wasn't that every note was hit just right or that their pitch was perfect. In the musical sense, it wasn't flawless. But they're kids. And 3 of them are mine. 

Most importantly, they sang from their hearts.

Did you ever talk to God above?
Tell Him that you need a friend to love.
Pray in Jesus’ name believing
that God answers prayer.

Have you told Him all your cares and woes?
Ev’ry tiny little fear He knows.
You can know He’ll always hear
And He will answer prayer.

You can whisper in a crowd to Him.
You can cry when you’re alone to Him.
You don’t have to pray out loud to Him;
He knows your thoughts.

On a lofty mountain peak, He’s there.
In a meadow by a stream, He’s there.
Anywhere on earth you go,
He’s been there from the start.

Find the answer in His Word; it’s true.
You’ll be strong because He walks with you.
By His faithfulness He’ll change you, too.
God answers prayer.

I stood in my kitchen with tears streaming down my face as the music filled the room.

A minute later, as I was still wiping tears from my eyes, my phone chimed. My husband had videoed the moment so I wouldn't miss it. (I sure do love that man.) I listened once more as I watched them sing. And once more I cried.

Those words sung by my little ones touched me. God does answer prayer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Today is now Monday. That is all I had time to write before my family returned from church and the baby was woken from the noise that is my children. I stayed up late caring for him and woke up early with him, as well. I get discouraged at times because there is much I would like to write for our blog--memories, favorite recipes, DIY projects, experiments, fun. Life. When it comes down to it though, my family is my first responsibility. My poor blog gets set to the side, and I write in snippets when I find the time.   

I had considered changing the wording in the beginning to fit today, but decided against it. This is life. This is real. This is the busyness I mentioned. 

And this is all the more reason I need God.
 

Today I find time to write again as the baby is napping.

Have you told Him all your cares and woes?
Ev’ry tiny little fear He knows.

"Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you." I Peter 5:7

You can whisper in a crowd to Him.
You can cry when you’re alone to Him.
You don’t have to pray out loud to Him;

"The righteous cry, and the LORD heareth, and delivereth them out of all their troubles." Psalm 34:17

On a lofty mountain peak, He’s there.
In a meadow by a stream, He’s there.

"Call unto me, and I will answer thee, and shew thee great and mighty things, which thou knowest not." Jeremiah 33:3

Find the answer in His Word; it’s true.
You’ll be strong because He walks with you.
By His faithfulness He’ll change you, too.
God answers prayer.

"Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God. And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus." Philippians 4:6-7

When you're discouraged, He's there.

When you're dealing with sickness, He's there.
When you're correcting attitudes, He's there.
When you're stressed, He's there.

When you're heartbroken, He's there.

When life gets too be too much and you're overwhelmed, God is there.  

I love how God used a ministry of my children to remind me of this truth. What a blessing these little ones are. May they never forget these words themselves and always hold them dear. May they forever remember to call upon Him.

God answers prayer.

*God Answers Prayer by Frances Towle Rath & Greg Soule

Her Legacy

October 22, 1990.

That was the day that drastically changed the course of my husband's life.

He was 7 at the time, 2 weeks shy of his 8th birthday, when his world was forever changed. That day marked the beginning of some very difficult years in his life. His mom--his comforter, his stability, his haven--was gone.

Years ago, I posted this on Facebook:

22 years ago, a precious woman lost her battle with cancer. I never had the privilege of meeting her, yet I love her and am blessed by her every single day.

How do I know?

 I married her son.

Leukemia may have taken her life, but her influence lived on. 

My husband doesn't have an entire childhood filled with memories of his mother, but he remembers cuddling and napping with her after school. He recalls the way she laughed and enjoyed life, even while knowing she was dying. He remembers her intelligence. He remembers her love.

I know it's this heartache-filled path--the one that starts with losing his mother, moves on to his father remarrying, and ends with spending his teenage years in a children's home--that led us to each other, but I can't help but wonder how different things could have been. How would we have met had our college not been recommended to him while in the children's home? Would I have fallen in love with him as quickly had he not amazed me with his unbelievable forgiveness? Would we be close to his parents? What would his mom have been like? Would she have been the typical dreaded "mother-in-law"? I can't imagine she would have been, if she was anything like her laid-back, understanding, loving son.

I'd like to think that she would have loved me. And my children. 

I could sit here all day and think of the what ifs, but this is the life God has given us. I'll never know my mother-in-law. I'll never see her smile or feel the warmth of her hug. I'll never be able to see which traits and habits my husband got from her. I'll never watch her hold my sleeping babies. 

I'll never get to thank her for loving her son. Or for being the proper example in his life. I'll never have the opportunity to thank her for raising him those 8 years and making it possible for him to overlook the hardships and thrive in his life. I'll never thank her for her influence in making my husband the man that he is. I'll never be able to tell her, but I love her because I love him.

Twenty-five years ago my husband lost his mom, but her legacy, her love, lives on.

Such Is Life

Having kids means that life is never boring. Some days are more eventful than others though.

Tyler has not been feeling well. Again. Coughing, runny nose, fever, ear infection. Again. This week, he has been understandably crabby and clingy. Today was no exception.

7:00 a.m. - Tyler wakes up. I change his diaper, put drops in his ear, and suck out his nose. He wants breakfast. Now. He screams at me because I'm not cutting his banana fast enough. He wants something to drink. Now. He shrieks because I'm not filling his cup quickly enough. He screams again because he's still hungry. My normally happy baby is very irritable. I feed him oatmeal. He smiles. I wash him up.

I reprimand quarreling children.

I change a poopy diaper.

I clean up a messy highchair.

I read the kiddos some books.

I play with blocks with the baby.

8: 00 a.m. - I make breakfast.

Tyler cries.

I reprimand quarreling children.

I stop baby from emptying the drawers.

I suck out a snotty nose.

I feed children breakfast.

I check email.

I reprimand quarreling children.

I pick baby up. I set baby down. I pick baby up. I set baby down. I listen to baby shriek because I set him down.

9:00 a.m. - Children are rough-housing.

Zac gets kicked in the nose.

Zac cries. A lot.

Zac loses blood. A lot.

I grab Zac and head to the bathroom.

I hold one washcloth on his nose, wet another one, and try to clean up the blood from his hands.

Zac uses his hand to wipe away tears.

Zac gets blood all over his face from wiping away tears.

I call to Alyssa to hold the washcloth on his nose so I can clean up his hands and face.

Tyler opens a drawer, grabs a container of miscellaneous makeup and tools, and empties it all over the floor.

I take Tyler out of the bathroom. He screams.

I cuddle Zac.

Tyler cries.

I put Tyler down for a nap.

10:00 a.m. - I load the dishwasher with the breakfast dishes and push the button to run it.   

Click. 

Nothing. 

Click, click. 

Nothing.  

I call Leighton to see if there's some reason why it isn't working. There's not. 

Jake, Alyssa, Zac, and I wash all the dishes. By hand. Wash, rinse, dry, put away. 

Trade jobs.

Play with bubbles.

Play with water.

Wash dishes.

Listen to complaining about having a "boring" job.

Wash dishes.

Let the kiddos have a piece of candy and send them out of the kitchen.

Finish the dishes by myself. Finish cleaning the kitchen.

11:00 a.m. - Instruct kids to clean up their toys.

Attempt to check curriculum on laptop for school. No internet. 

Check router. No power.

Check desktop. No power.

Check power strip. No power.

Call Leighton. Again.

He sends me to the basement to look for a tripped circuit. Nothing.

I check the legend, switch 2 circuits for the living room, and head upstairs to try the power. Nothing.

I head back to the basement, switch 3 more circuits, and head upstairs to try the power. Nothing.

I head back to the basement, switch all the circuits, and head upstairs to try the power. Nothing.

The kids walk around the house, flipping on all the switches. All the lights come on, except for that one corner of the house. They have fun.

I am confused.

The lights come on. The t.v. turns on. The fish tank is on.

I am still confused.

12:00 a.m. - I am ready to start school. Finally.

Tyler wakes up. No school yet.

I think about the circuit issue. I remember the broken dishwasher. I wonder . . .

I clicked the dishwasher on.

Rrrrrrrr . . . It works!

I am surprised that the dishwasher is on the same circuit as the plugs in the living room, but I am happy that it works and humored that we washed all the dishes, for nothing. 

The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. You know, stuff like reading a couple chapters of our book, talking about synonyms and antonyms, making the life cycle of a butterfly out of dried pasta, coloring pictures of mealworms, discussing what makes a good leader, doing some math, playing on the computer, practicing reading, making dough, rolling out tortillas, playing outside, making brownies, wrestling with daddy, taking out toys, putting away toys, taking out toys, putting away toys. Taking out toys, putting away toys.

And of course, washing more dishes.

E is for Elbow

It's been forever since I wrote a Blogging through the Alphabet post. Marcy started back at the beginning again, so I'm going to try to fill in the letters I've missed . . . which is most of them. Remember my issue with that from the beginning? Oh well, I guess that fits perfectly with this week's post.



I can remember driving with my parents when I was a little girl. As I sat in the backseat, I noticed my dad's arm resting casually at his side. I was intrigued by his elbow.

"Why do you have so much extra skin here?" I asked as I squished it between my fingers.

My father's answer was a simple one. He explained that in order to bend, to move, to be functional, you needed that extra skin. If your elbow were taut and rigid, you wouldn't have that flexibility.



Of course, to an adult mind the concept is obvious, but that lesson has stuck with me all these years. I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. Self-examining. Reflecting. Analyzing. I've realized how much our schooling has changed over the last three years. How much I've changed. What worked for us then, doesn't really work for us now. What worked last week might not work this week.

Why is that? 

Simply put, things change. People, needs, responsibilities, likes, moods.

I had to learn that even though I may want the day to follow a particular schedule, sometimes it's best to ignore it. And other times, I have no control over it at all.

Sometimes school gets set on the back burner; sometimes it gets taken completely off the stove. 

It may be because spring has finally come after a long winter and we take advantage of the warm weather or because the Crabby Monster has visited our house and we need to do something to make him leave or because the baby is in the hospital for nearly 2 weeks or because we're running him to doctor's appointments or because we spend the day baking to be a blessing to others. Or just because we want to. We can do school in the morning before we start the day or wait until evening when our fun is all done.

We can be flexible, like an elbow.

To me, homeschooling is not just about learning the 3 Rs; it's a way of life. That's why we school year-round. I want my children to constantly grow and learn. I want to give them many rich experiences and intrigue their minds. I want them to desire to gain knowledge about so much more than just facts for a test. I want them to learn valuable life skills.

Homeschooling is not just schooling at home. Homeschooling is applying a learning attitude in everyday situations.

If we miss a day here or there or don't get everything on my list accomplished, that's ok. I know that my kids are soaking up information all the time. I know that we're not taking 3 months off from that thinking during the summer months either. Sure, our days may look a little different then - a little less book work and a whole lot more real-life, hands-on learning. 

I've realized that if our days aren't always the way I'd like, it's ok. We don't have to be rigid. 

It's much more fun to bend and move and be flexible. Like an elbow.

* If this is not your style, then that's fine too. One of the great things about homeschooling is discovering what works for you.