When God Writes Your Story

It was the last day of Retreat and everyone was milling around in the lobby, waiting for their groups, hauling luggage to the cars and saying goodbyes. I was standing to the side with a couple of my besties, pretty much just tryna stay outta everbody's way.

Then this blonde-headed, blue-eyed firefighter is standing there in front of me, shaking hands with my friends and asking where we went to church. "Ethan Pritchard." I liked him right away; this was a good decent guy if I'd ever seen one. But nothing could come of that, right? He didn't have my number; for all I knew, he'd never seen me before.

I was driving home with Faith and Loyal Carlon the next day when my cell phone rang. "Um...do you know a guy named Ethan Pritchard?" It was Mom, with the very essence of teasing in her voice. "Oh, yeah...   why?" "He called Dad and asked if he could talk to you..."

I was speechless.

Frankly; I had had it with guys at that point. Every girl has her share of "creepers" during the teen years, and I was annoyed to death. From the guy who lived somewhere across the ocean who showed up on facebook, to the 50 year old who asked me out at work...I was tired of dealing with it all. Exhausted, really. But...there was something different about this one. I liked him. He seemed steady.

So I prayed, and prayed, and prayed and prayed...and told Dad to let him know that I was willing to talk with him.

And then the magic started - the very first time I heard him say my name. (Secretly, I had always hoped it would be special when "my man" first said my name. Always, I had listened for "specialness" when other guys were around, but nothing was ever different. This time it was; and I was giddy with excitement.)

We talked for about a month, then he decided to come up and visit. He met my family, took me out on our first date, choked down his first cup of coffee, and got stuck in a snowstorm on his way back to sunny North Carolina. (19 hours in a snowstorm, people - that's one devoted guy!) I felt as soon as he was gone, that I was missing part of me. And his blue eyes.....     :)

But I still wanted to be sure that it was God's perfect will. I cannot tell you how many times I prayed earnestly about it; but one night I got desperate. It was about 1:00 in the morning, and I knelt down beside my bed to hash it out. It was 3:00 am before my head hit the pillow, but I went to sleep with peace that God had heard me.

I know some people may think it's weird, but as I was staying there, asking God to lead me, wondering why I felt nothing at all, this song came softly, gently over my heart, and I knew all was well.

"Cause you prayed all night

Cause you held on with all of your might

Child, your cries have awoken the Master.

Oh, He knows your voice

Lift your hands, it's time to rejoice

Child, your cries have awoken the Master."

As promised, my confirmation came, and I knew. I can honestly say that I've never been so sure of anything in my life.

I'll never forget the first time Ethan told me he loved me. His eyes caught mine, and everything went still. Being speechless never used to be a problem for me, but in that moment I was afraid to say anything for fear it would shatter this perfect longed-for moment. I know God must have smiled.

"Anna, I truly feel I've fallen in love with you." And all I could do was stare at him and grin that wide, stupid smile, and mumble something about how much I loved him, too.

Then, there came one fateful night. We were talking pretty seriously about spending the rest of our lives together, and thinking about different possibilities. We chose a date; August 8th. (Exactly seven months - to the day - from when he first called me.)
No, we weren't engaged. But we knew this was what God wanted for both of us, and that we couldn't live without each other. When you have Christ, you have everything. And with God for us, what could stand against us? Walking in His perfect will leaves you in the center of calm, because you know He will see you through.

Obviously, I was expecting him to ask me the next time he came to visit. BUT, I didn't know when that was going to be - that is, until he walked into my living room while I was playing the piano one afternoon, smiling his mischievous little smile.

The next day he wanted to see Hayman Falls (which happens to be my favorite place on earth), so we decided to drive out there and take a look at the water. I got us lost on the way there (yes, local girls...I know that's pathetic...but anyways) because I asked him to turn around when we were actually going the right way. But, hey! we got there.

We walked down the trail by the river and sat down on a moss-covered rock.

The trees loomed above us and the water ran fast, filling the woods with the indescribable peace of nature. I breathed deep, taking it all in.

"Anna? Do you still love me?"

Of course I did.

He just looked into my eyes for a second, as if trying hard to read something from them.

"Well, then...I guess I have something to ask you."

And he was pulling something out of his pocket.

I felt my eyes go wide. "Ethan, are you SERIOUS?!"

And he was holding the most gorgeous ring I had ever seen, asking me to marry him.

My hand went over my mouth (seeing as I was so shocked that all my dreams were coming true), and I just nodded my head.

He slipped it on my finger, while I still stared in disbelief.

"Oh my word... Ethan...

We're getting married!"

He grinned, and laughed his, "well, um, yeah" kinda laugh, and I looked up at the sky in perfect wonder.

God had heard every one of those wistful, wondering prayers about "Lord, I have no idea where my husband is, but I know you've called me to be a wife and mother. Please, God; give me faith to hold onto your promise even though I see nothing with these natural eyes." And He honored them, by giving me the most responsible, loving man there ever could have been. One who knows how to make me smile, can tell when something is bothering me (even if I don't tell him,) and actually loves me for me - the me that is full of mistakes and imperfections. He takes it all and calls me his girl, anyway.


And I can't understand why God would give me someone as perfect as Ethan to be mine forever. I feel so indescribably blessed, and incandescently happy.

"Trust in the Lord with all thine heart" - He doesn't disappoint.

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When God Writes Your Story

Revisiting The Closet

 It's a jungle in there. Scary and dusty and dangerous. For realz.

The other day my dear brother Isaac fixed the light in my closet. Before that, who really cared if the closet was a mess - nobody could see it, anyway! But, eh, today was my day off ((ironically)), and the population of spiders {have I mentioned my phobia of spiders?} + the mountain of "abunchofunclassifiedjunk" that obstructed all ease of access...  I tackled it.

Again. ((I do this once a year.))

See, besides just a place for clothes, my closet has been a great variety of things. In the past, it was my hideout. {Long past, by the way.} Now, it serves as hope chest storage, home to my ginormous memorabilia collection, special gift wrap and, then - and only then - my clothes.

Here's the creative "wall paper" I put up when I was fourteen. {Yes, Kaitlin Sanger - that's you!}

Finally. The serenity of a nice, organized closet.  I'm gonna go have some coffee now...

I think this award is a little better suited now...I hung it smack in the middle of my closet wall. lol!

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Revisiting The Closet

What Do you DO All Day? - By Matt Walsh

          

It’s happened twice in a week, and they were both women. Anyone ought to have more class than this, but women — especially women — should, well, know better.

Last week, I was at the pharmacy and a friendly lady approached me.

“Matt! How are those little ones doing?”

“Great! They’re doing very well, thanks for asking.”

“Good to hear. How ’bout your wife? Is she back at work yet?”

“Well she’s working hard at home, taking care of the kids. But she’s not going back into the workforce, if that’s what you mean.”

“Oh fun! That must be nice!”

“Fun? It’s a lot of hard work. Rewarding, yes. Fun? Not always.”

This one wasn’t in-your-face. It was only quietly presumptuous and subversively condescending.

The next incident occurred today at the coffee shop. It started in similar fashion; a friendly exchange about how things are coming along with the babies. The conversation quickly derailed when the woman hit me with this:

“So is your wife staying at home permanently?”

“Permanently? Well, for the foreseeable future she will be raising the kids full time, yes.”

“Yeah, mine is 14 now. But I’ve had a career the whole time as well. I can’t imagine being a stay at home mom. I would get so antsy. [Giggles] What does she DO all day?”

“Oh, just absolutely everything. What do you do all day?”

“…Me? Ha! I WORK!”

“My wife never stops working. Meanwhile, it’s the middle of the afternoon and we’re both at a coffee shop. I’m sure my wife would love to have time to sit down and drink a coffee. It’s nice to get a break, isn’t it?”

The conversation ended less amicably than it began.

Look, I don’t cast aspersions on women who work outside of the home. I understand that many of them are forced into it because they are single mothers, or because one income simply isn’t enough to meet the financial needs of their family. Or they just choose to work because that’s what they want to do. Fine.

 I also understand that most “professional” women aren’t rude, pompous and smug, like the two I met recently.

But I don’t want to sing Kumbaya right now. I want to kick our backwards, materialistic society in the shins and say, “GET YOUR  HEAD ON STRAIGHT, SOCIETY.”

This conversation shouldn’t be necessary. I shouldn’t need to explain why it’s insane for anyone — particularly other women — to have such contempt and hostility for “stay at home” mothers.

 Are we really so shallow? Are we really so confused? Are we really the first culture in the history of mankind to fail to grasp the glory and seriousness of motherhood? The pagans deified Maternity and turned it into a goddess. We’ve gone the other direction; we treat it like a disease or an obstacle.

The people who completely immerse themselves in the tiring, thankless, profoundly important job of raising children ought to be put on a pedestal. We ought to revere them and admire them like we admire rocket scientists and war heroes.

These women are doing something beautiful and complicated and challenging and terrifying and painful and joyous and essential. Whatever they are doing, they ARE doing something, and our civilization DEPENDS on them doing it well. Who else can say such a thing? What other job carries with it such consequences?

It’s true — being a mom isn’t a “job.” A job is something you do for part of the day and then stop doing. You get a paycheck. You have unions and benefits and break rooms. I’ve had many jobs; it’s nothing spectacular or mystical. I don’t quite understand why we’ve elevated “the workforce” to this hallowed status.

Where do we get our idea of it? The Communist Manifesto? Having a job is necessary for some — it is for me — but it isn’t liberating or empowering. Whatever your job is — you are expendable. You are a number. You are a calculation. You are a servant. You can be replaced, and you will be replaced eventually.

Am I being harsh? No, I’m being someone who has a job. I’m being real.

If your mother quit her role as mother, entire lives would be turned upside down; society would suffer greatly. The ripples of that tragedy would be felt for generations. If she quit her job as a computer analyst, she’d be replaced in four days and nobody would care. Same goes for you and me.

 We have freedom and power in the home, not the office. But we are zombies, so we can not see that.

Yes, my wife is JUST a mother. JUST. She JUST brings forth life into the universe, and she JUST shapes and molds and raises those lives. She JUST manages, directs and maintains the workings of the household, while caring for children who JUST rely on her for everything. She JUST teaches our twins how to be human beings, and, as they grow, she will JUST train them in all things, from morals, to manners, to the ABC’s, to hygiene, etc. She is JUST my spiritual foundation and the rock on which our family is built. She is JUST everything to everyone. And society would JUST fall apart at the seams if she, and her fellow moms, failed in any of the tasks I outlined.

Yes, she is just a mother. Which is sort of like looking at the sky and saying, “hey, it’s just the sun.”

Of course not all women can be at home full time. It’s one thing to acknowledge that; it’s quite another to paint it as the ideal. To call it the ideal, is to claim that children IDEALLY would spend LESS time around their mothers. This is madness. Pure madness. It isn’t ideal, and it isn’t neutral. The more time a mother can spend raising her kids, the better. The better for them, the better for their souls, the better for the community, the better for humanity. Period.

Finally, it’s probably true that stay at home moms have some down time. People who work outside the home have down time, too. In fact, there are many, many jobs that consist primarily of down time, with little spurts of menial activity strewn throughout. In any case, I’m not looking to get into a fight about who is “busier.” We seem to value our time so little, that we find our worth based on how little of it we have. In other words, we’ve idolized “being busy,” and confused it with being “important.” You can be busy but unimportant, just as you can be important but not busy. I don’t know who is busiest, and I don’t care. It doesn’t matter. I think it’s safe to say that none of us are as busy as we think we are; and however busy we actually are, it’s more than we need to be.

We get a lot of things wrong in our culture. But, when all is said and done, and our civilization crumbles into ashes, we are going to most regret the way we treated mothers and children.

Posted on October 9, 2013 by The Matt Walsh Blog

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What Do you DO All Day? - By Matt Walsh

"La Cocina" is Born

 

I tried reading that book before. Very interesting, true - if you're allowed to eat flour and sugar. However, trying to read the first couple chapters of "Cookwise" by Shirley O Corriher was awful because  I happened to be on a gluten-free/sugar-free diet.

It simply didn't apply.

This year I'm going at it again, and to make it more interesting for myself, I thought I'd share some of my new-found knowledge with YOU! It's always easier to do something if you can do it for/with someone else.

This time I'm starting with what I can shamelessly eat: MEAT, in this case :)

So I present to you, after much editing and nervous fidgeting in front of the camera, my (very rough) first video on the subject of "Venison."

Why venison? Because whenever I go searching the internet for advice on how to make it more, well, ya know, edible (it's normally pretty tough) I can't come up with much. I've decided to share what I've found useful on the subject in hope that some poor, frustrated soul will stumble across my video one day and say "Ah! At long last, somebody posted a good formula for success!" And their meat won't be tough as rawhide when dinnertime rolls around. ;)

Why "La Cocina"? Because another subject I happen to be studying this year is Spanish. I'm not fluent by any stretch of the imagination, but I have managed to figure out "The Kitchen." Viola! (Oh. Oops. I guess that's French, isn't it.)

If you have any helpful critiques or suggestions, feel free to help me out! Just keep the comments sweet. :)

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"La Cocina" is Born

The Good, The Bad and The Awesome. {The End}

  

The good: Kind compliments on my cookery and glowing reports from my mother to her friends.

Believe it or not, I didn't do it.

The bad: Accidentally serving "Rhubarb and little smokies" for lunch one afternoon and not buying enough food on my last grocery-run. (Too much company, too many snacks and too many deviations from my menu. *hrumph.*)


My favorites: The fun of sweeping floors and the time-for-thought that comes with folding three loads of laundry every day. (Sometimes four...sometimes one, you never know...)

What I dread: Getting up at a set time every morning and wondering whether or not everybody's going to like what I chose to make for dinner. (Meals are important - the prospect of "Pizza Night" can keep me happy when hours are dull - the knowledge that "Split Pea Soup" is waiting for me at the end of the day...is VERY depressing.)

Awesome: That feeling you get when you realize that you've conquered the laundry for today :)

Awful: When you remember that you forgot to pull the chicken out of the freezer...and know there's no possible way it'll thaw in time.

Terrific: Being confident that you are (after all the wondering) capable of keeping a house running smoothly after THREE MONTHS of testing it out.

Overall, nobody died and my courteous family was very good about encouraging compliments. I'm very thankful (very, very thankful) that Mom and Dad saw fit to let me gather confidence and hone these skills.

For now, there are exactly seven days until I hang up my apron and pursue another daunting task; Mom wants me to work on sewing. (Sewing? No, no, no, no....oh, please, ANYTHING but that...) It's very much like math for me. ;)

Other than that, there's a few school subjects left to do - a little math, a little science and some Spanish...but then I'll be done. Forever, and ever, and ever.

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The Good, The Bad and The Awesome. {The End}

Remembering We're Not Alone

Psalm 139

1 O lord, thou hast searched me, and known me.

² Thou knowest my downsitting and mine uprising, thou understandest my thought afar off.
³ Thou compassest my path and my lying down, and art acquainted with all my ways.
⁴ For there is not a word in my tongue, but, lo, O Lord, thou knowest it altogether.
⁵ Thou hast beset me behind and before, and laid thine hand upon me.
⁶ Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high, I cannot attain unto it.
⁷ Whither shall I go from thy spirit? or whither shall I flee from thy presence?
⁸ If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there: if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there.
⁹ If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea;
¹⁰ Even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me.
¹¹ If I say, Surely the darkness shall cover me; even the night shall be light about me.
¹² Yea, the darkness hideth not from thee; but the night shineth as the day: the darkness and the light are both alike to thee.
¹³ For thou hast possessed my reins: thou hast covered me in my mother's womb.
¹⁴ I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvellous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well.
¹⁵ My substance was not hid from thee, when I was made in secret, and curiously wrought in the lowest parts of the earth.
¹⁶ Thine eyes did see my substance, yet being unperfect; and in thy book all my members were written, which in continuance were fashioned, when as yet there was none of them.
¹⁷ How precious also are thy thoughts unto me, O God! how great is the sum of them!
¹⁸ If I should count them, they are more in number than the sand: when I awake, I am still with thee.
¹⁹ Surely thou wilt slay the wicked, O God: depart from me therefore, ye bloody men.
²⁰ For they speak against thee wickedly, and thine enemies take thy name in vain.
²¹ Do not I hate them, O Lord, that hate thee? and am not I grieved with those that rise up against thee?
²² I hate them with perfect hatred: I count them mine enemies.
²³ Search me, O God, and know my heart: try me, and know my thoughts:
²⁴ And see if there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.

Isn't it such a comfort, to know He understands?

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Remembering We're Not Alone

The Truth

 

There are so many awesome things about this "stay-at-home" lifestyle. I know some people think it's boring and that you can't possibly be fulfilled or happy this way, but I disagree.

Having taken over the household responsibilities for a while, I think I can better understand a normal stay-at-home mom's point of view::

Don't you wish you were a little more *cough* socialized?

 We have (around) forty people that come to church in the living room on Sundays - not to mention Wednesday nights. There's a ga-zillion friends that I share letters, emails, texts, phone-calls, video-calls and normal visits with. (I just came home from a sleep-over, actually.)On top of that, somebody is always coming over for supper.

What do you do, stuck at home all day?

Well, for myself,  there's much preparation for the aforementioned company, on top of which sits the normal laundry, three-meal-a-day cooking (very rewarding, btw), teaching school (I'm a 6th-grade math tutor for my awesome little brother), a blog that I try to keep up with, numerous sewing projects, crochet projects, garden work, canning and half a million projects for my graduation next spring (!!!). Throughout the day I also goof off with my brother and sisters...and Dad and Mom (*grin*). Most nights, I tell stories and/or sing songs before bed for my smallest sister, play piano for church on Sundays, try to keep my assigned parts of the house picked up, sing with my Mom and sister for church, and keep up with the emails and letter writing.

I could go on, but I've grown tired of the subject ;)

But aren't you wasting your talents?

Last time I checked, *peeks into her work-to-be-done folder* I was using every last one of them. (Writing skills, *check* musical talents,*check*, acting/animation, *check* entertaining, *check*, cooking, *check* sewing, *check* teaching, *check* ....need I go on?

Sometimes it's easy to feel  pressured by everyone else's thinking and standards. If you're not careful, you can start to feel like you really don't do or amount to much - but I encourage you to look up!

 "Let the mind that was in Christ Jesus be in you" - you're not from this world, so why bother with fitting in? You're called to be different, and if God asked you to stay home, don't accept the World's idea of what is "fulfilling" for a woman. Instead, know that everything God creates is "very good" - including this perfect job for you.

Let people say you're wasting your life. I don't care if you're the head of a famous company in New York City - there are always discouraging days when you feel like what you're doing doesn't make a difference and isn't important. There may be days when you feel bored and wonder if your talents could be put to better use somewhere else. Don't listen to the discouraging, chiding comments of others or the thoughts that Satan tries to discourage you with - if God asked you to do it, it is important.

"Little is much when God is in it
Learn to labor and to wait
There's a crown and you can win it
If you go in Jesus name."

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The Truth

Non-Morning-Person vs. Morning

 

This is absolutely THE WORST part of my house-keeping challenge. It's that time of year again and when I get up, the mornings are still dark and coldish...perfect for burrowing under the blankets and catching an extra fifteen minutes of sleep....or 60, you never know. ;)

I've dragged myself out of bed at the very reasonable hour of 7:00 a.m., thinking woeful thoughts while I thumped down the dark, cold basement stairs to sort the laundry.

I don't want to get up.
I don't want to do the laundry.
I don't want to make breakfast.
I don't want to get dressed - this bathrobe is warm, for heaven's sake!
I just want to go back to bed. For a long, long, long time.

But I didn't go to bed.

I put on the laundry.
I made breakfast.
I got dressed.

And as I pushed through the morning routine, I suddenly realized that it wasn't that bad - I was only "exhausted" and "in desperate need of sleep" for about an hour. So every morning (when I haul my sleepy self myself out of bed) I tell myself, "Anna, just do the next thing...in an hour you'll be cheerful, chipper and energized." And my fingers mechanically sort lights from darks, put on the tea and soon...whadayaknow, I'm laughing and smiling as if tired mornings never existed.

I'm finding that "Do the next thing" is one of the most important parts of household running and schedule juggling. It all gets done eventually - and it almost never takes as long to do a chore as you think it will.

There. My sermon for the day ;)


How's life on your end of cyber space?

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Non-Morning-Person vs. Morning

What I've Learned

 

Well, it's been a month - roughly - since Mom let me take over the house. Here's what I've learned:


1. Schedule Smedule - while 30-dinner menus are terrifically handy, it isn't possible for this family to stick to a "meal-schedule" by any means! There's a lot of company and surprises around here, so you just have to "go with the flow". I definitely wouldn't throw the plan away altogether, though - it helps tremendously if you know you can make "Pork-chops and fried apples" tonight, even if you have to scratch that plan in lieu of another one.

Found this on Pinterest - hilarious, aye?

 

2. Just do the next thing - Sometimes you get sick or exhausted or overwhelmed....and the work just doesn't go away. Meals still need to be cooked, laundry still needs to be folded and math still needs to be taught - you have to stop stewing over how much work you have to do and make a list (mentally or on the 'fridge) and work on the current needs. Remember that you'll get done eventually and tomorrow probably won't be as hectic as today.

3. Mommas are amazing - I know mom would rather have handled the house up-keep herself. She's a very efficient, effective person who loves to stay busy and keep her family happy; this was really hard for her. I really appreciate her willingness to let me spread my wings and grow some confidence...I'm sure my future family would thank her!

{I really appreciate it, Mom, this was the opportunity of a life-time that, I'm sure, many grown women wish they would have had when they were my age. }

4. It's not nearly as hard as I thought - I saw myself floundering up to my neck in laundry, being flustered and exhausted by the time I'd finally gotten supper on the table and running constantly behind. Nope. All mom's sacrificing through the years has paid off and I was shocked to find that the work fit naturally into the ground-work and skills she had started when I was small. {Times when she would have preferred to "just get it done" instead of letting a tiny, bumbling pair of hands risk the lives of her dishes. ;) }

5. I actually LOVE housework. Perhaps that's weird to some people, but really...drying dishes, and folding laundry are two of the most terrifical things ever invented.

                                                                        The End.

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What I've Learned

Le Menu ;)

I've done it. Almost.

Thirty dinner ideas are all planned out - well, 29.

Perhaps my brain has just shorted out in the cooking department for today. Do you girls have any ideas for what the thirtieth supper should be? Your guess is as good as mine ;)

Here we go:

Sunday: Fish w/ macadamia nuts and butter sauce, oven potatoes

Monday: Parmesan drumsticks,

Tuesday: Ratatouille {I'm super-excited about trying this, for some reason...}

Wednesday: Shredded crockpot BBQ {Wednesdays are always a good night for make-ahead meals }

Thursday: Cilantro Chicken Breast

Friday: Pizza {Healthy version for us, white-flour version for Dad ;D}

Saturday: Ham, grilled yams w/ glaze

Sunday: Ham&Broccoli Casserole

Monday: Ginger-Soy Venison Tenderloin

Tuesday: Beans

Wednesday: Crockpot Italian Chicken

Thursday: Grilled Pork and Pepper skewers

Friday: Hamburgers with fried onions, srirachi sauce, tomato, lettuce, etc.

Saturday: Whole Chicken

Sunday: Cheesy Chicken Casserole

Monday: Hearty Meatball Stew

Tuesday: Fried Fish

Wednesday: Venison Pot Roast {It's good, believe it or not;}

Thursday: Spicy Italian Sausage Khabobs

Friday: Chicken and Kale

Saturday: Ribs {Happy face:}

Sunday: Shepherd's pie

Monday: Could you girls fill this one in for me?! I could use some suggestions...

Tuesday: Grilled chicken thighs

Wednesday: A1 Venison Roast

Thursday: Pork Chops

Friday: Chalupa

Saturday: Pork Tenderloin

Yup. There we go. I still have to work on the "Sides", too.

Breakfast, lunch and dessert are pretty simple, but dinner is the biggest, hugest, most horrifying (okay, maybe not horrifying ) thing in menu planning. To me, anyways. ;)

Please leave your suggestions in the comment box - remember, it's supposed to be sugar-free and grain-free.

Thanks!

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Le Menu ;)

The Schedule {Help}

 

Disclaimer - If this post makes no sense, it's because you need to read THIS one first.

 

 

Every little girl plays "house" when she's small - I guess I just really never stopped :) It went from toting baby dolls and blankets everywhere, to building a play house with stones, to pouring over home decorating books at the Library, to setting up a "dream home" on Pinterest; complete with color schemes, cozy-but-convenient-rooms, organizing inspirations, my recipe collections...and it goes on.

Just plain ol' fun.

But then the hard part comes.

"Anna," said she, "I'd like to talk to you, when you have a minute."

"Okay," said I, tossing a dish towel down the laundry-chute and wondering what to expect.

I sat down.

"I was wondering...did you have any sort of a schedule planned out?"

Something shriveled up inside me. Schedule; my enemy from long, high-school days. Schedule; the single sheet of paper with power to overwhelm and defeat. Schedule; with swift-marching colums of time limits. Schedule; my arch enemy.

No. Please, no.

"Um...well, I kinda had a plan in my head...."

Mom is the sensible type who's never overwhelmed by anything to do with housekeeping or gastronomic get-togethers or ginormous chore lists. She likes routine, loves a clean house, and schedules are her cup o' tea.

Amazing. I know.

So I found myself seated in front of a very large Microsoft-Excel sheet (soon to be titled "Anna's Senior Year 2013") and I began to realize something.

Oh. I guess this IS important.

Although the word "plan"  sounds a whole lot more friendly, a schedule is a huge asset to running a household. I suppose.

Flying "by the seat of your pants" may be more free and leave a peaceful atmosphere in one's soul...but it's hard to keep it there when it's 5:30 pm and the roast is still frozen. With the bare-essentials all planned out, on the other hand, there's peace of mind in knowing that there will be time for everything and a few hours to spare; a slot for devotions, a slot for fixing your hair and a luxuriously large slot of time for dinner prep. :) {My three favorites}

I'm actually excited about it, now :)

We'll see how this goes, but I'm convinced that schedules are dreadfully important. (Dreadful as they may be.) At least until you have the necessary sequence of daily necessities figured out and paired with their proper times in your own, personal day :)

The End.

Just kidding.

I'm going to go ahead and throw in the schedule that Mom and I wrote up (In case someone might find it helpful.)

PS. Just for fun, would you be so kind as to write up a "schedule" for "a perfect day" in your comment? It'll be fun to see what everyone comes up with.

7:00	Rise
	Start laundry
	Dinner prep
	Toilette  - It's French for getting ready for the day.
	Breakfast prep
8:00	Breakfast/cleanup
	Lunch prep
	Pick/up bedroom/playroom
	Tidy living room
	Tidy bathroom
	Tidy dining room
	Tidy kitchen
	Switch laundry
9:00	Devotions/pray
10:00	Math
11:30	Lunch prep
12:00	Lunch / cleanup
	Kitchen tidy
	Laundry folding/putting away
	Spanish
2:00	House p/u
4:30	Supper prep
5:30/6:00	supper /devo/cleanup
	meat out of freezer/breakf&supper
	laundry folding/putting away
	house p/u

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The Schedule {Help}

The Education of Anna Pyatskowit

 

Candidly, I'll say that I tend to have a very peaceful personality. I take life slowly - eyeing the details, doing my best at things and carefully, perfecionistically, adding the "laces and bows" to all hairstyles, plans, relationships, table settings, and the like.

Some people might call the above description "pokey-slow."  Maybe it is - but I like to justify myself as a diligent slowpoke, at the very least. ;)

Anyway, knowing my personality, I've often wondered what my future home will look like when (inevitably) company stops over unexpectedly. I've thought about whether or not meals would make it to the table on time and if my kids would still be schooling into the middle of August every year. What about the laundry - could I keep up with it?

Apparently I complained of my fears in front of mom a few too many times. 

Finally, she got that thoughtful/compassionate look in her eye and basically said "Anna, I think you'd do just fine, but you need confidence...and confidence comes by experience."

Oh, that I'd kept my mouth shut. When, when when will I ever learn to keep my mouth shut.

It just so happens that I'm a senior this year. Having already collected all of my high-school credits, save two, my schedule is very light.

Not now.

I'm currently pursuing a "BA in humanities with a concentration on homemaking" at White Oak Christian College (which is still White Oak Christian School for my three siblings.) (Of course I'm kidding, but did you know you can actually go for that degree in some colleges?)

Therefore, I am in charge of the cooking, menu-planning, laundering and tidying of the Pyatskowit household for the entire month of September - and possibly the whole school year.

Part of me is scared to death, and the other part is excited. However this turns out, it will definitely be an adventure.

That's where you come in. Dear blogging friends, I shall be posting of my successes and woes on this blog twice a week. I promise. (Er, *cough*, I promise to try, anyways.)

It should be rather comical.

For the record though, I'm very thankful mom came up with this idea and don't regret opening my mouth in front of her at all. I was being sarcastic ;)

Wish me luck!

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The Education of Anna Pyatskowit