Why I Make My Bed

I was thinking the other day about how many chores have to be done over and over each day. Like making the bed.

A few years ago, I remember a sweet newlywed friend laughingly telling me that she loves to sleep in, and if she got up to get a drink or something, her hubby would hurry and make the bed so that she wouldn't get back in it. An unmade bed didn't bother her at all (in fact, she found it quite welcoming!), but her military-trained husband liked things neat and tidy. (Now this sweet friend has three children, so her sleeping in days are over!)

Then I remembered a homeschooling seminar I attended once on managing a household and homeschool with many kids. Even though I was only homeschooling three, I figured I'd hear something helpful. Can't remember exactly what I gleaned from that seminar, but I do remember the speaker saying that making beds was a waste of time -- her kids just crawl back into them to do school, anyway! (Another tip from this homeschool mom: don't sort laundry, just throw in whatever you've got and wash it all together! I passed on that one, too.)

So why do I make my bed? 

1. It instantly makes the room look neater. Even with a little clutter, a made bed looks infinitely better than an unmade bed.
2. It minimizes distractions for my hubby. Our current bedroom is quite large, so it doubles as a home office / study space. Jeff prefers neatness, so making the bed removes one distraction for him.
3. It helps with my laundry. The laundry room is in my bedroom closet, so I usually just carry things from the dryer to my bed and make a neat pile for each person to carry to their own room. I just can't do that on an unmade bed.
4. It feels nicer to sleep in a bed that's been made, don't you agree?
5. It promotes discipline in my life. It's not something I enjoy doing (although I do enjoy it once it's done), but it's something I need to do. So I do it. Most of the time.
6. It sets a good example for my children. I expect them to make their beds daily. Why would I not do the same? And I've noticed that if one of the kids happens to come down to my room while I'm making the bed, they often offer to help me.
7. It's good stewardship. Our home is currently up for sale, and I'm sure our landlord appreciates anything we do to make the home more appealing.
8. It only takes two minutes. How many things can give this many benefits for just a two minute investment?

In the interest of full disclosure, I must say that my hubby makes the bed at least half the time... probably more often than that. If he sees it needs to be done and has a moment to do it, he just does it. Thanks, Jeff. And thanks to his mom for raising him that way.

Photo credit: Microsoft Office Clipart

Best Supporting Role

I finally got around to digging through family pictures today, looking for one or two of my dad to share. It wasn't as easy as I expected. He was absent from so many... probably often behind the camera while my mother and I hammed it up. In others, he was there, but in the background, simply observing as we carefully documented the birthday party, the grandchildren at play, the Christmas celebration.

That got me to thinking more about my dad. I have no doubt that he was a strong leader in our home, even when we were not the most faithful of followers. However, many of my best memories involve him in a supporting role.

My dad was a wiz at math. He could calculate things faster in his head than I could on my brand new Texas Instruments calculator. He apparently passed that ability on to my elder siblings, with none left for Carol and I. So when I moved into advanced math (for me, that was Algebra 2, Geometry, and something nefarious devised by ASU called Business Algebra), I was dogpaddling in deep water. Daddy walked in on one of my homework sessions and immediately deduced that I was frustrated, and even panicked, by my inability to get through it. (I think my tears were the giveaway). Recognizing that he could not help me wade through the mysteries of tangents and cotangents, he offered what he could. He first told me that he was so sorry that he couldn't help me, then he disappeared for a few minutes. He returned with three of my favorite things: Coca Cola, chocolate, and a hug. And I got through it.

Several years later, my mother had been helping me with wedding planning. We had visited a local rental shop to check out the candelabras and dripless candles, and I was disappointed to learn that the fancy, scrolled candelabras were almost double the price of the standard candelabras. I opted for the less expensive version and moved on. A day or two later, Daddy called me at work and asked me if I'd rather have the scrolled candelabras, because he'd go change the order if I did, no matter what the cost. That really touched me, and I'm sure I was tearful when I told him not to worry about it. Now that I'm a parent, I sometimes wish that I had accepted the gift he lovingly offered that day.

I watched my dad support our family over the years, both in his vocation  -- whether farmer, insurance salesman, real estate agent, or missionary -- and by his words and deeds. When I called home, he'd always ask how we were doing before passing the phone to my mother. When his schedule lightened and my mother was still working, I was amazed to watch my father develop his skills as a house spouse. He began cooking, cleaning, doing laundry, and ironing. He even shopped at Walmart (which he referred to as "The Zoo"). And when my mother's health began to decline, he stepped in even more. When he remarried a Linda after Mama's death, she then became the recipient of his domestic gifts, for which she often expressed gratitude.

As I struggled through different circumstances as an adult, Daddy was always there to just encourage me in the Lord. He didn't offer any advice other than trusting in God's faithfulness unless I asked for it. As he grew older, he often expressed his readiness to go on home to heaven -- but he continued to invest in those on earth around him.

I don't know if he heard me tell him thanks for the life he lived that last time I talked with him. But I'm confident that he's living out the ultimate reward with his Father now.

Shopping... with a purpose!

Once more, I'm going to reroute you to my other blog... please stop by and meet my sister-in-law Michele, then consider participating in the benefit I'm hosting to help her with expenses related to her chronic medical condition and treatment. Thanks.

A giveaway!

But not here! Hop over to my other blog, Welcome to Willow House, to learn more. While you're there, check out the latest Willow House news... including the announcement of a jewelry division!

On reading...

A few of you ladies have been following my list of books I've read this year and have asked some questions. Those questions prompted me to think about what I've learned through what I've read this year, and it just seemed timely to write a post now that we're almost halfway through the year.

When I started Booklist 2011, I had several goals in mind. First, I wanted a way to record what I was reading in order to evaluate the balance in my reading. Second, I wanted to keep track of books I've read that I might want to revisit or recommend. Third, I thought some of you avid readers might enjoy seeing the list as you think through your own reading.

The list has been helpful in evaluating my first goal -- and in broadening my reading. So far this year, I've learned about Hudson Taylor, biblical womanhood, the futility of modern philosophical ethics, the Greatest Generation, Islamic terrorism in Darfur, and how to distress documents. I've visited Prince Edward Island, England, Ohio, Palestine, Israel, New England, and numerous high profile sporting events. I've even read the best first or last sentences of many classic pieces of literature. All without leaving my home.

At this point, I don't have a great master plan. We have many, many books here in our home -- fiction, non-fiction, classics, Christian -- and I sometimes choose something of interest from these. We also have a good library, and I always browse the new non-fiction book area first to see if anything strikes my fancy. This has done a lot to broaden my horizons. The library also has an interesting themed book display each month that I look at. I'm currently involved in two different business efforts, and sometimes this drives my search. I always take a look at my kids' books to see if anything interests me there -- or needs to be previewed.

I've loved having the list to keep track of the books, as well. I'm the worst at remembering titles and authors -- I sometimes forget I've even read a book (especially Agatha Christie mysteries, which tend to be pubished under multiple titles). One of the books I recently completed included letters written during the Great Depression. I'll want my daughter to read at least part of this book when she studies that time period in a couple of years, so I'm glad I'll have my list to refer to.

Several of you have let me know that you've enjoyed following my list, so my third goal was accomplished -- with the bonus that you've also shared what you're reading with me! I'd love to have more discussion like that, so keep it coming!

And happy reading!

Strutting my Stuff

I've been enjoying a new (to me) blog lately,Somewhat Simple. Talk about a mecca for ideas -- she's constantly sharing ideas and inviting others to share ideas -- and encouraging copycats (and we both know I'm a big copycat). Makes me almost wish I was back in my old Arizona stomping grounds to meet this girl and attend one of her girls' nights out!


When I saw her linky party this week, I couldn't resist relishing my little success with my mother-in-law's birthday gift once again and posting it. I'll bet you either having something to share over there, too, or you'd love to browse through the ideas others are posting, so join the party!

A Smile to Remember

The last time I saw her, she was smiling. She and Daddy had driven out to Georgia from Arizona for my oldest child's high school graduation. This was an especially sweet time for me, as he was the first of our three children to survive my attempts at homeschooling.

We had a great time, that visit, just hanging out together. AnnaKate and I treated her (and she treated us) to a spa pedicure. I watched and laughed as she and Daddy played Uno with the kids, again and again. She probably brought a craft to do with AnnaKate; she usually did.

And there were lots of hugs, lots of laughs, lots of words of encouragement. As always.

As they left, Daddy let me know that he wasn't sure if she could make the drive again; the long trip was awfully hard on her.

But that summer, she seemed to thrive -- even in the Chandler heat. We had worked out a schedule for me to call and check on her whenever Daddy was out of town. I called her one Thursday morning, her day off, but she didn’t answer. I calmly left her a message to check in with me, thinking she might be in the shower. An hour went by, no call. Another hour, I called and left another message… more urgent this time, wondering to myself who would be best to call locally to check on her.

Within a few minutes, she called back. “Sorry, I forgot you’d be calling,” she apologized. “I got up and went shopping this morning at Walmart.”

“Walmart?” I asked disbelievingly, knowing she always dreaded the vastness of Walmart and usually just sent Daddy instead.

“Yes, I just went in and got one of those electric scooters and zipped all around the store!” she proudly reported with her sassy Texas accent. I would have liked to have seen that, and I’ll bet she giggled at least once while she was zipping.

By fall, she and Daddy were planning their 50^th anniversary trip for December, a leisurely drive up the Pacific Coast Highway. I was so excited and prepared a special trip box for them with a leather bound travel journal, traveling music, and other goodies. But then, shortly before their planned departure date, she developed shingles. I didn’t realize how painful shingles were, but even beyond the pain, I know they caused her frustration. Frustration at not being able to go to work. Frustration at not being able to take their trip. Frustration at having to wrap her arms, and at having this ugliness on her limbs.

She was mostly recovered from the shingles, but still not feeling well, when the holidays rolled around. She rallied her spirits, if not her body, enough to share Christmas Eve with my brother, my younger sister, and their families.

And then she was gone. Gone home to her Lord on His birthday, just a few weeks shy of her own 70^th birthday. When Daddy called to tell me, it was just surreal. How could this woman, so full of life on even her worst days, no longer live? This woman, this mother of mine, had overcome so many things in her lifetime. Yet she would have been the first to say, “Not I, but Christ who lives within me.”

And at the end, at least the end from an earthly perspective, it was again Christ who overcame, this time overcoming death for her. And I am confident that this was the day that she really began to live, really live, more than she ever lived here on earth.