Our Lego Problem

At last count we had a bazillion Legos, most of which were once assembled into models, then taken apart and scattered around the house.  Keeping the collection contained became an all consuming passion a couple of years ago.

Stage 1: The Beginning
One of the grandmothers scored a Lego table at a church rummage sale for something like $10 (!) and that was good for building. We kept the blocks in a large container, but nobody wanted to rifle through it to build anything new. Not good.

Stage 2: The Legos must be contained
Summer 2012 found us sorting Lego by color into gallon freezer baggies. This worked OK and more unplanned building occurred, but nobody wanted to clean up after the Legos were dumped out.  Really not good.

By December 2012 I decided that we needed individual boxes for each color.  I discovered Really Useful Boxes at Office Depot and waited for the after-Christmas-get-organized sale.  The 12"x12" boxes are shallow enough to allow the boys to sift through their collection and they can build projects on the lids.  Cleanup is easy, the boxes stack well, and they're very rugged. I'd say unbreakable, but one of the boys managed to chip off a piece of a lid while standing on it.

Lego Headquarters

Stage 3:  The models stay built
With the arrival of the X-wing fighter, one of the boys realized that he wanted this model to stay built. So we needed something on which to store models.  Some older toys were discarded to free up space on a bookshelf.  I also found an IKEA Lack table at Goodwill which became a display center.

But the boys wanted something on which to display their minifigs.  Lego sells a display case for $25, but it didn't hold many.  I searched Pinterest for solutions and found one family that had repurposed a silverware tray and one who had painted a shadowbox white. I can do that!

I went to one of the local Goodwill stores and found a toy cash register tray and a dinged-up wall shelf.  A couple of coats of spray paint later, I had a shelf for small models and a nifty minifig cabinet.  I cut a large Lego flat into strips with a utility knife and used contact cement to glue them to the shelves of the tray. (Thank you Jedi Craft Girl!)

Now that they have easy access, a place to build, and a place to display, the guys are enjoying their Legos again.  I'm happy that the living room doesn't look like a Lego outlet anymore.

Now the guys want a "Lego Closet" in their bedroom.  'Cause who needs clothes anyway....

Shalom y'all!

God Among the Dishes

Martha and Mary.  Mary listens; Martha is busy in the kitchen.  When Martha complains to him, Jesus tells her that Mary has chosen the better portion. [Luke 10:38-42]

My busy-mom mind plays a coda to this story.  

Martha settles down to listen to Jesus. She has completely forgotten about her preparations.  Sometime later, the disciples wander into the dining room, exclaiming, “Dinner’s not ready?”  Martha looks at Jesus and says, “See. I told you so.”

The Lenten season is a busy time in our household, but this season has been unusually hectic.  Take one round-the clock mom job, add the pleasures of potty training, mix in some soccer coaching, and a dash of part-time teaching and you have a recipe for chaos.  Lent is supposed to be a time for reflection and devotion, a time of meditation and listening to the Holy Spirit. Oh, that I could retreat to a quiet place and just sit at Jesus’ feet all day.

But who’s going to fix dinner?

A few years ago our women’s Bible study read The Practice of the Presence of God by Brother Lawrence. This 17th century Carmelite lay brother was in charge of the monastery kitchen, working full time so that the monks would be free to study, pray, teach, and copy manuscripts. He spent his days endlessly cooking and cleaning. At first he detested his menial job. Who wouldn’t? Then he had a breakthrough.

Brother Lawrence discovered that he was spending too much time worrying about himself, that he needed to get back to loving God.  He found that he could do this just as well in the kitchen as in the chapel.  He began to seek--to practice--the presence of God in each of his duties.  He used his time in the kitchen to focus his thoughts on God. After all, somebody had to get dinner on the table.

The most excellent method of going to God is that of doing our common business without any view of pleasing people but purely for the love of God.  (Brother Lawrence)

We ought not to grow tired of doing little things for the love of God, who regards not the greatness of the work, but the love with which it is performed.  (Brother Lawrence)

Jesus didn’t chide Martha for preparing dinner or tell her to forgo her responsibilities.  Luke 10 is not a denunciation of housework any more than Mark 7 advises against hand washing.  Jesus reminded Martha (and us) not to get so worked up about what needs to be done, but to seek and listen to Him, not the worries of a distracted mind. 

Perhaps Martha looked back at her kitchen, thinking a cold buffet supper would be just fine and sat down to listen.  After all, Jesus was an expert at feeding crowds without much fuss and preparation.  Later, as she washed the dishes, she reflected on his words.  I’m guessing that no meal at her house was ever the same.

Lent is our time to practice the presence of God in order to carry on that practice throughout the year. I am challenged to do this. There’s a time to sit and listen, but the dishes won’t wash themselves.  God is everywhere. And when I seek Him, I will find Him, even among the dishes.

Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving. (Col 3:23-24)

Full Heart

Today I’m participating in "Monday Manna," hosted by Joanne Sher at An Open Book.  Visit her blog for links to more discussion on 1 John 2:15.

Do not love the world or anything in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. 1 John 2:15

I have a bag that I pack for swimming lessons. Since the kids are starving after they get out of the pool, I load one center compartment with drinks and snacks.  Another compartment carries my diaper changing kit. The zippered pocket secures items that I don’t want to fall out: wallet, cell phone, swim tickets for lessons.  Outside pockets store easy-access items: keys, sunglasses, sunscreen. But other items sink into corners of the bag: toy cars, paper towels, discarded ads from the mailbox, empty snack wrappers.

Sometimes my bag is so full of non-essential items that I barely have room for towels and swimsuits.

If I’m not careful, I’ll fill my heart with the desires of the world: possessions in one pocket, relationships in another, my to-do list stuffed around the outside. Pile in the empty wrappers of chatter and worry and soon I realize that I’m filled with the world--not the Word. I’ve made no room for the love of the Father.

I cleaned out my swim bag and discarded all the garbage. Now it’s packed with our main goal in mind--swimming.  First in--towels, clothes, and goggles.  They fill the bag, but since I’ve thrown out the garbage, there’s plenty of room left over for the things a mom needs to carry. 

When I ask God to clean out my heart and throw out the garbage--the desires of the world--and put Him in first, I find that He fills my heart. But there’s also room for family and fellowship, a purposeful life and peace.

Shalom, y’all.

Fay Decides to Stay

Enough already.  TS Fay came ashore at Key West, then hit the mainland near Naples (Jim Cantore was there). She's started tracking a strange path NE across Florida where she's affecting the Space Coast (Melbourne, Cocoa Beach, Kennedy Space Center). The current forecast takes her out into the Atlantic to strengthen into a hurricane before coming ashore again (!) somewhere on the First Coast (Daytona, Jacksonville).  Then she may track across the Panhandle, hopefully not entering the Gulf of Mexico again.

Lots of flooding in SE and east central Florida today.  They needed the rain and this will help with a deficit in Lake Okeechobee. But everyone expected Fay to weaken, dump a whole lot of rain, and go away.  However, she's sticking around like an unwanted guest. Fay is defying conventional wisdom, but apparently behaving the way a storm should under the current atmospheric conditions.  Nothing outside the way God designed the atmosphere to function.

'Round Tampa Bay we had typical tropical storm cloud patterns: white puffies scudding across a gray sky.  We had swells and a few small whitecaps in the canal, which means the Bay was extremely choppy.  They don't quite show up in the picture, but the palm fronds are moving. Very little rain, because it's all gathered around Fay.  So weather-wise it was a magnificent day where we could work outside and not sweat as much. We were able to play outside quite a bit (except for one brief shower).  I trimmed. I pulled weeds. I tidied up our yard and it looks much better. Bruce continued cleaning the garage and both cars are parked inside tonight. Wow.

There's a certain giddiness I feel when we have a near miss.  It's like finding out that you don't have to take the pop quiz.  Except for the part where we did yard and garage work, this felt a little like a vacation day.

Fay Watch

Are you evacuating?  That was the question up and down our street this morning.  I took the boys out for a bike ride down the cul-de-sac and ran into a couple of neighbors.  One family has a dog and they’ve already made hotel reservations on higher ground.  Another couple is elderly and they’ve already decided to go. 

We went to the mall.

If there’s one thing I knew this morning, I knew that I had to wear the boys out if I was going to get anything done this afternoon.  They had a good time. Now they’re napping.  I just finished cleaning off the lanai, cleaning part of the garage, and securing bikes, toys, and garden decorations.

Who got the better end of the deal?

The 2 p.m. advisory shows Fay’s track heading into Ft. Myers or Charlotte Harbor, well south of us.  That can change. Local media says that we might feel winds on Tuesday afternoon/evening approaching 70 mph with 4 to 8 inches of rain.  Most of the wind and rain is on the eastern side, so Pinellas County might just escape the brunt of the storm.

Right now we have fluffy clouds and thunderheads building.  I took a photo from our back yard (those swings have to be taken down).  It’s of the NE toward Tampa and not part of Fay, but we should start to have some outer rain bands this evening.

Anyway, my garage is almost clean enough to park both cars in it.  My laundry is almost done. The lanai is swept and the toys are picked up.  First a break, then I’ll tidy the house.

Bruce reminded me of a verse that’s been running through his mind the last couple of days.  It was the key verse from a sermon 2 weeks ago.  A good thought for today.

The eternal God is your refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms. (Deut. 33:27a)

This Little Light of Mine

“Can I use the flashlight, mommy?”

We were playing our usual afternoon game of dinosaur race. The rules are simple: each of us has a dinosaur, the dinosaurs race, DW’s dinosaur wins.  From there it gets complicated, but we usually get “trophies” which, for some reason, are kept in the crawl space beneath my bed.  The trophies themselves are invisible, but are described to me in detail as DW hands them to me.

After opening the door at the foot of our captain’s bed, DW prepared to crawl through to fetch whatever trophies his imagination devised.  I gave him the small flashlight to use and off he went in search of prizes.

“Mommy, come and see.”

I crawled around to the head of the bed to peek underneath.  In the illuminated space behind my bed, I saw dust bunnies. No, not bunnies. These were dust dinosaurs.  Our cats also like the cozy hiding places between the underbed drawers. I could have knitted a small cat from all the fur.

The flashlight illuminated everything.  All the fur, dust, fluff, and fuzz from, well who knows how long, clumped in piles beneath the bed.  I’m a good housekeeper, but I’m certain I haven’t vacuumed behind the bed since I had the kids.

Out came the vacuum and all the attachments.  DW enthusiastically held the flashlight while we sucked up dust tyrannosaurs and dust velociraptors by the dozen.  

On JW’s last visit to the pediatrician I was asked if he mimicked what we said or did, a normal milestone for an 18-month-old.  I looked at my little 30 lb sumo wrestler of a toddler and remembered all the ways he imitates his brother, dad, and me.

Big brother has taught JW a few wrestling moves which he now uses to pin his slightly heavier brother to the ground.  JW can pull a serious face, eyebrows cocked at odd angles, that looks so much like his daddy it’s funny. His baby voice chirps along when I sing and he throws in a familiar word or two right on cue.

That’s all well and good, but I know they’re also catching us at our bad moments. We’re not a four-letter-word family, but we have plenty to say about the bad drivers we encounter on the road.  I’m waiting for the day one of them rolls his eyes at me.  I already hear my “no” reflected back, usually by JW. (Although it’s really cute and dramatic. Nooooooo.) I need to erase the word “stupid” from my vocabulary for awhile. (oops, there’s that eye roll again)

Nothing throws a light on our words and actions like our children do.  They grasp their flashlights with their little hands and shine them everywhere, even on the dust bunnies...er, dinosaurs.

I’d better get out the vacuum.

Didn’t I Just Clean This House?

We had a rite of passage in the library for new pages, the folks who put away all the returned books.  They truly became part of the family of staff when they made the observation, “Didn’t I just clear this cart?”  After we finished laughing we assured them that yes, they had just put all those books away. In the meantime, thirty more people had come in and returned books, filling the cart once more.

Library work is not for those who like closure.  New employees who thought they’d actually finish their work in a day, a week, a month were quickly disappointed.  Our job was to keep one step ahead of chaos.  Like Mickey, the Sorcerer’s Apprentice, in Disney’s Fantasia, the circulation desk staff bravely tried to maintain order as our patrons passed through our doors carrying armloads of books like so many pail-toting brooms.

Now my pail-toting brooms are toy-toting boys who manage to create endless piles of dishes and cups to clean, laundry to do, and messes to straighten. Like our library’s patrons they ask interesting questions, have a boundless curiosity, and love to read.  There’s no closure, only the change of seasons and the growth and deepening of lives. 

So here I sit, having just cleaned the house. Again.  I’ll do it again and again, trying to keep one step ahead of chaos. I know better than to ask, “didn’t I just clean this?”

While I cleaned I plugged in the iTouch and listened to the album at the top of the list.  As I scrubbed, Charlie Peacock sang 

I have got to clean house


Gotta make my bed


Gotta clear my head


It's gettin' kinda stuffy in here


Smells sorta funky too


Like monkeys at the zoo;

...

Spirit come flush the lies out

One of the things I love about Sunday morning worship is the chance to sit quietly and clean house, especially on communion Sunday.  The weekly grind fills my mind and soul with gunk as surely as those brooms filled Mickey’s master’s workshop with water.  I treasure one entire hour (!) of reflection, confession, and praise as my Master puts things back in order. He never asks “didn’t I just clean this?”  He welcomes my confession and strengthens me as I confess my weaknesses to him. I know that one day there will be closure, for there won’t be any housework in heaven.  But for now I’m thankful for the one in whom there is no chaos, the one who washes me white as snow.  

A magic eraser, indeed.