That's All, folks!

You know how in Nature doctumentaries, the film crew are not meant to get involved with any animals; let nature take its course and all that, without human intervention. Well, I've decided some of parenting can feel a bit like that. Do I get involved, or do I take a step back and let Nature do its thang?

Yesterday one of the girls were bored. Her sister was out with a friend, and her mum had said no to 'boredom screen-time'. Yesterday, one of the boys found some water balloons... end of story! Thankfully said girl put up with a couple of water balloons being thrown at her, because it was sunny and because she had a big brother to play with. (As a little sister to a big brother, I remember that feeling of putting up with most stuff if it meant he was up for hanging out with me. I watched a lot of The Empire strikes back, for this very reason).

I realised my son was coming into the kitchen quite a lot to get me to tie the balloons. He was making a batch of balloons. I peered out the window, and could see whispers and secret exchanges between one quite wet sister, and one sneaky brother. I asked what they were up to, and I was met with vague truths, "Just spending time with my sister, that's all", "Just filling up water balloons on a sunny day, that's all". I have been a mother long enough to know that, 'that's all' rarely means 'that's all'. And the raised eyebrows which come with it, to convey trust, should be doubted to the highest regard. (In the same way, I know certain periods of quiet from certain children, should be investigated. Likewise certain screams are to be inspected, whereas most can be ignored).

I was having a cup of tea with a friend, who happens to be the mother of the child, my other daughter was with. They were walking the dog, so should be appearing soon... Ah, I see! An ambush was at stake. 

Now here is the dilema; two of my children are well into an hour's sibling fun together by now. Why would I stop that?! That's like gold dust in a mother's world. But would my other child appreciate the drenching ambush, that was coming her way, whilst with her friend? It's hard to tell. Some days she would think that's hilarious, and she loves water play, always has done. Some days that would be the worst thing to happen, and would possibly bring immediate tears. 

Just like the camera crew who helped the stuck penguins not to die in the ice, a few years back, there was a moral dilema taking place. This was made even worse by the fact that my tea drinking friend had a tracker on her phone, so we could even see how close to the house they were getting. By now the other two gigglers are running through the house with balloons, checking the front garden and the back garden, unsure of which route the unsuspecting victims were going to take. Possibly, maybe one of us mothers, or it may have been one of the camera crew, may have possibly suggested it would be the back garden route because they could see it on the tracker. 

It was a perfect unsuspected ambush, met with highe pitched shrieks of "No", which made me and my mum friend question our choices, and grimace slightly at each other, before hearing the laughter and hilarity which ensued, just like we thought (hoped) it would. Ah success all round.

As parents, I believe we mostly have to get involved. We are to point out danger, (which granted, I did not do for my daughter before the ambush). We are to teach, to shape, to model. When kids are little we intervene even with a hand grab or a raised voice to convey trouble. As they get older, we intervene with wisdom, with advice, with steering towards or away from people, situations, choices. Children shouldn't be parenting themselves, we need to do that for them. We are meant to intervene,"to teach them, when sitting in your house and when along the road, when you lie down and when you get up". Deuteronomy 6v7 

One of the greatest ways we can intervene in our kids' lives, is to pray for them. And this we can do, even when they don't want our advice or wisdom. Or when we don't even know how we would intervene. We need to pray for them daily, not just leave them to it, leave it to nature to take its course with their lives. If they were stuck in a frozen ravine, if it was a matter of life and death, we would do all we could to help them out of it. Freshly challenged by the penguins, I think I need to up my prayers for my kids. It is a matter of life and death. That's all. 

A new season (Another new season)

Tonight was our last family dinner as we know it... 

We have two touch points during a week, when all eight of us (maybe nine or ten if a friend or girlfriend is around) are expected to eat together. Sunday lunchtimes, we're all together for Roast chicken, and Thursday evenings, (recently changed from Monday evenings to fit in with football scheduling) we are together for whatever the budget allows, or whatever the Lidl coupons were for that week.

The rest of the week, some of us are around to eat together. Sometimes in shifts, sometimes grabbed on the way out, and sometimes saved on a plate for midnight snackiness. It works for us; not expecting too much family time from the teens, but not allowing for none. Family is important to us, and so is eating it seems. We also throw in a game or two and even a bottle of fizzy. 

Tonight was family dinner night. Special family dinner night. We had Gammon cooked in Coke with a peanut butter glaze, chicken wings and chocolate fondu. We played the car rolling game, where you roll a car along the table to win the prize it lands near. It literally brings the worst out in all of us... if the car hits a prize, you're disqualified, if it rolls off the table, you're disqualified. Tonight you could win a Pot Noodle, 9p or a packet of Pickled Onion Space Raiders. So the stakes were high. We also played the strawberry laces game, where you have to chew it as quick as you can. (There was gagging at one point, which wasn't pretty to watch). 

Theo gave us all a handwritten note, personal to each one of us, and we went round the table to say what we enjoyed about living with Theo. Theo, the eldest boy, the newly engaged eldest boy, the newly engaged eldest boy who is moving out of home on Saturday, to live with buddies before he gets married! Gulp. The answers ranged from, "you eat the vegetables off my plate, so I don't have to", to "the chats we have, and you asking about my day". The littlest, who is finding his leaving a bit ouchy to say the least, was very cuddly and said, "it's all the little games we play together". 

I realised the different relationships they all have with each other. There are nuances, inside jokes, pet peaves, memes they laugh at, words that set them off, songs which connect them, Playstation games or TV shows which will be a memory for them. (Two of them shouted 'Tron' last week, when the circular cardboard pizza bases were on the side). Knowing my kids have that with each other, is fun to think about. Some things, I probably don't even know about. Sibling secrets. It's lovely, and I wish I knew them all. Although I probably don't actually. 

Tonight I sat back and watched them during the craziness, and the bickering. During the disqualifications and laughter. During the fight to be heard and the quiet watching. Some of them naturally click better with each other, and some I'm not sure would hang out, if they weren't siblings. I wonder what they will each take from our home, into their own homes. 

To be fair, that eldest boy of ours is seeing what he can literally take with him, asking for his bed, the shelves, the storage unit... The eldest will have his own room at long last, just not in our house. The sibling discussions of who should sleep where have begun. A new season is upon us...another new season, as it always seems to be with a quiver full.

"Children are a heritage from the Lord, offspring a reward from him. Like arrows in the hands of a warrior are children born in one's youth. Blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them". Psalm 127v3-5