Chores

Selah Grace sweeping in the backyard

There's a number of pretty high profile verses in the Bible about working with a cheerful heart and not complaining so you can shine like the stars, etc. Although I know these and I know the premise is right, the secret truth is that I really don't like doing chores. I'd even go so far as to say that I despise chores for the time they steal from me. When I was little, I would spend hours cleaning and rearranging the furniture in my room...for fun. Now? The living room in a veritable minefield of board books and toys and having community group at our house means that you can count on the floor being mopped once a week, but no promises for more. When does this shift happen. Selah loves doing chores. She only need see a broom before she is pushing it down the hall "sweeping". She "folds" her cloth diapers and puts them away in bins. She eagerly rakes leaves and waters in the garden. She happily takes cloths and wipes them around the furniture and floors. Me? I don't share her enjoyment. Maybe I just feel overwhelmed by the constant need to do chores. There is always laundry and with a toddler whose new favorite activity is baptizing mom's makeup, shoes, toothbrush, comb, sippy cup, etc in the toilet, so many things scream to be sterilized. I'm kind of just waiting for hazmat to come rope off the kitchen area so I finally have an excuse to not cook and therefore eliminate the need to clean the kitchen. What I do know is this: I could clean our home many hours a day and if I'm not careful I will discover that I spent my life in one marathon cleaning fury. I'm okay with things being a little messy if it means I spent my day playing with my baby and remembering to enjoy this time I get to be home with her. I'm trying to get a better perspective about doing chores. I can say it to my head, but I'm working on it going to my heart.

Fresh Water and Gray Water

so much depends

upon

a full water

tank

glistening with God's

elixir

beside the needy

people

Collecting "gray water" from Selah Grace's bath.

Watering the plants with "gray water".

Women carrying water in Malawi.

This is how most women in Malawi get water. They carry heavy pale-fulls on their heads, usually with a baby on their back. Doesn't look too easy does it?

Water. The elixir of life. Whether or not we have it and whether or not it is clean dictates so much. Choosing between a power outage and a water shut-off, I'll take a power outage any day. Sure, cold showers can be unpleasant, but just try going without any water for days and see if it starts to get to you. Power outages and water shut-offs were not uncommon to us while we were living in Malawi and on more than one occasion Nate ninja-shimmied up the scratchy brick wall surrounding the pool to collect a bucket of pool water we could use for much-needed flushes. When you don't have water, or when you have to balance it on your head for a mile or more to get home, you're much more aware of how precious it is and how much you're using.

Now that we're living in Southern California we act like water is as abundant as our sand and iceplant. The truth is that we're in a water crisis, but it is just so hard to really believe it. When I turn on the tap, there's water. Always. But is that always going to be true?

In our little Leboffe family home we aren't super rigid about water dos and don'ts, but here are some household rules.
1. Don't blush, share a flush. (Unless company is coming over or it's not yellow.)
2. Showers are 5 minutes or less.
3. Brush teeth with faucet turned off.
4. Use "gray water" to water plants in flower beds.

(Gray water is just pre-used water in the house. Maybe collected from showers, or what you boiled an egg in, etc.) Truth be told, we could probably collect a whole lot more gray water throughout our day. As it is, we use Selah's bath water each evening to water the plants outside. As I scoop bucketful after bucketful out of the tub I realize a couple of things: 1) There's a lot more water in here than it looks. 2) I'm glad our water meter isn't ticking around and around and around by using the hose. 3) This is kind of inconvenient, but at least I'm just going to the front porch and not walking miles like so many women and children in the world. 4) Pray for said women and children in the world.

Trust and Tithing and Control

We heard a sermon recently on tithing. It was in fact only the third sermon I've ever heard on tithing in the past ten years and it was timely. Recently I've been thinking about money and how we don't have much of it and wondering if we're ever going to "arrive" financially.
Let me back up. When we were living in Malawi we had to fundraise financial support and I felt like it was such a burden. I empathized greatly with the Israelites crossing the desert, dependent upon manna to rain down from heaven each new day and not even being allowed to store anything away for the next day "just in case". Believe me, I would have felt a little more secure if we had a storage of treasures to fall back on just in case. But what are we really saying? Now, I'm all for responsibility and I know that we need to be responsible with our money. But my "just in case" is really about my need for the illusion of control over our lives and a plan B for Backup "just in case" ...what? ...God doesn't have it under control?, has more urgent to-do's than the needs of my family?, isn't sovereign?...
I kept telling myself that it would be so much easier to live once we were on salary and didn't have to rely on others for financial support. Now, a year later I know that isn't true. I still worry and pray about money. Even though we are on a set salary I know that we are not in control of our provision. My initial, human nature is to pull out and hoard up. Stop tithing. Don't give to our missionary friends. Quit making food for others. I can just see my heart coroding looking down that path. That's why it isn't an option.
We give because we believe. We believe because we trust. We trust because we know that there is a Sovereign One in control and that is not us!

Stock-The-Garden Party

This Saturday we hosted a garden party in hopes of planting a few flower beds and inspiring our front yard to be a little more welcoming and attractive. Depending on who you talk to some participants may call it a garden party, others might say the "party" was really just a masquerade for mini labor camp. Friends and family dutifully showed up with foliage in hand and together, with the smell of fertilizer in the air, we dug, planted, ate, and gave our front porch area a general face lift.

Often we San Diegans garden under the impression that we live in a lush rainforest. The reality is that we live in a coastal desert. It doesn't take a geologist to know that the conglomerate soil is anything but fertile delta silt. It took a post digger and a few very large men with very large biceps to dig through the layers of packed, sandy dirt, cobblestone sized rock, boulder sized rock, and sea shells in our flower bed to plant moderate little salvia, morning glory, and lavender plants. (The post digger and diggers survived but suffered minor wounds and warping.) Hopefully nothing a little Miracle Grow gardening soil won't conquer.

Which leads me to what really boggles my mind. Is it not incredible that we pay for dirt? And poo for that matter. Why do we pay such a premium for things that really should be on our plethora and free list? Because we live in a desert area masking as a luscious, water-abundant community and if I want more than sand castles, rock labyrinths, and cacti in my yard then I'm going to have to offer the ground a few little helpful nutrients. I was thinking of beginning potty training with Ms. Little Little soon. Maybe I'll just teach her a few tricks and cut down on the cost of "nutrients".

Thank you friends and family for giving us a new walk home. It is such a blast of breath to the soul to walk towards our door, see the transformation of what was once weeds, and know that a lot of love and community went into it. So thanks community for jolting your shoulders against the ping of rock and for allowing our little family to receive what it means to be in a community.

"Just" A Mom

When people ask me what I do its easy for the automatic response to bubble up, "I'm just a mom." I try not to say that though out of respect for all the stay-at-home-moms out there. When I was pregnant and trying to reconcile the title of Stay-At-Home-Mom I had a friend who gently corrected me whenever I said that I wasn't going to work anymore. She reminded me that I wasn't going to be working outside the home.

I'm sure some of you envision stay-at-home-moms sleeping in until noon and lounging in the backyard sun reading People magazine. I thought I might be doing a little of that too before I knew better.

The reality is that I do a hodge-podge of things, have a calendar that is no stranger to my fine-tip sharpie, juggle the budget and the bills, and try to remember to put on mascara before I head out the door (which didn't happen two days this week).

I've always heard people say that you couldn't afford to pay a stay-at-home-mom. To see if this is true and to give all you curious and slightly incredulous people out there a glimpse into my world, I kept track of my past week's activities and found the average cost for said activity in San Diego.

With a 15month old, my main responsibility is childcare. That alone is enough to take up my entire day and wipe me out. This week I also spent an average of 3 hrs a day cleaning the kitchen alone. I didn't dare count the actual number of dishes washed. I also prepared 20 meals for an assortment of 12 people, washed 12 loads of laundry, rinsed out many poopy (cloth) diapers, took my baby to a pediatrician appointment, baby-proofed the pantry so my Little Miss Independent couldn't help herself to her Daddy's honey-nut Cheerios anymore, diligently checked craigslist for the perfect porch bench, planned a garden party, trimmed a hedge, raked 7 bags of leaves, washed the car, met to discuss the new curriculum of our marrieds community group, met to discuss the needs of set-up team for a mom's group at church, paid the bills, got the run-around from our cell-phone company about getting my phone fixed, went to Costco, went to Henry's, went to Target, went to Wal-Mart.

The days get busy, but the best part of being a stay-at-home-mom is that I get to make time for my baby and I try to make time for my friends. This week I watched Super Why with my toddler in our jammies. I played blocks and had my favorite companion, my daughter, go on "adventures" with me to the stores, library, and plant nursery. I went to a writing/art workshop with a friend (thanks Hillary!), saw a movie with girlfriends, and taught my daughter how to go down the slide. We had a picnic with friends in Balboa Park and had other friends over for dinner. I read a book during Selah's nap and unsuccessfully eradicated ants from our family room.

According to average San Diego rates this is what I would have been paid if stay-at-home-moms got a salary.

Childcare: (We'll just count a 5 day work week) 5 days = $500
Housekeeping: (We'll just count cleaning the kitchen) 21 hrs at $10/hr = $210
Landscaping: 5 hrs at $10/hr = $50
Cloth Diaper Service: $20/week = $20
Essentials Shopping: 5 hrs at :$30/hr for personal shoppers= $150
TOTAL = $900 for the hours we counted.

Being there to watch Sesame Street reruns with my daughters soft blonde curls against my chest and fuzzy footy pajamas on my lap....PRICELESS!

The One

It's probably one of the most widely asked questions. I call it The Quintessential Relationship Question. "How did you know he was the one?" We've been asked this multiple times since we've been married. My unsatisfactory answer is, "I just knew." Deep. In my gut. In the marrow of my bones knew.

Nate and I have played the what if game. We've asked ourselves what if I hadn't gone to USD? Would we have met later in life through another set of circumstances and fallen in love? Maybe. Would we have lived two completely different lives? Fallen in love with other people? Married them instead? Maybe. Is there really only The One that God predestined for us? Or when we say that love is a verb, are we really meaning that love is the verb of choice?

Now, I am a very sentimental person by nature. I'm always rooting for Love and Truth to win. I think Enchanted is an inspired movie and yes, I have been known to whelm up in tears 30 seconds into a Martina McBride video. But the longer I'm married the less I believe that there is a One and Only. The reality is that there are a number of people out there that you could fall in love with and make a life together. But with marriage you choose one to become your only. Maybe they were farther down the list of God's preferred people for you to marry, but when you say "I do" they jump up to number one out of one.

So how did we know? I knew intuitively because my life is guided by intuition. Nate knew in a more rational revelation because he is a logical person, ruled by reason. It's my personal opinion that part of Spirit speaking to spirit means that we'll all be given this answer in ways we understand. Nate and I made our decision to wed and now each day we choose to love and make our marriage a blessing.

But I want to hear from you so I have some more examples when my single friends ask this timeless question. How did you know that your spouse was the one?

And I leave you with a word of wisdom I heard recently. The grass is greener where you water it.

For all you marrieds out there. Enjoy your spouse today and remember to throw a little water on your marriage!

Birthday Presents

I am now 27 and this birthday got me thinking. Mainly I am convinced that it is so much better to be 27 than 17. What a difference a decade makes! Picture yourself at 17. Yikes, huh? Now forgive yourself. You couldn't help it. You were 17.
By far the most treasured and inspirational change in my life has come through my introduction, friendship, courtship, and marriage with Nate. He is better than anything I knew to ask for.
I remember being 17, standing in the kitchen at work, my teenage female heart palpitating in anticipation of someone to love. But who? None of these jokers. My boss (who was always very kind and moderately protective of me) asked me what kind of guy I was looking for. I answered something along the lines of, "someone attractive, athletic, and who loves God and loves me." In my head I was picturing someone ruggedly swarthy, but with good hygiene. A Jesus loving Jeff Corwin type who could carry me through a jungle unscathed.
The only thing I knew for sure is that I wasn't looking for any of the guys I went to school or church with. Dating in highschool should be studied as an anthropological phenomenon. I'm sure just about every girl could write a comic tragedy fully fed by her own true-life experiences! My ribbon winners would probably have to go to Mr. Uncomfortable Silence All Evening Long, only barely beaten out by Mr. Stealth Dater who poses as a platonic friend then takes your hand hostage while he holds it without warning. Girls, you know those guys.
No, none of those guys would do. They couldn't help it. They were only 17 themselves.
Fortunately God knew enough to have a guy that could be my man, one that I couldn't imagine or articulate in a prayer. God also knew enough to not let me meet this man until he had grown passed his teenage pupa stage! Now at 27 I am fully convinced that life is so much better than it was at 17. Ten years have been a gift of learning to do life better. I'm anticipating that I'll be saying the same ten years from now.
Best gifts of the decade? Perspective. Nate.

Go With the Flow

If you didn't get to the dining area by 6:30, you didn't get breakfast. The elephant herd cut through the brush on the edge of the safari lodge's manicured lawn and followed toward the river on the other side, cutting right through the lobby. It was their mango trail. Their path was formed centuries before with the lodge imposing a new inconevience, but nothing large enough to detour the elephants from their path.

The same phenomenon is occurring at our house, only the stage and players are much less majestic. Instead of a safari lodge in the Great Rift Valley, a home in a San Diego canyon. Instead of a line of elephants, a flow of ants. One millionth the size and every bit as insurmountable as a whole family of elephants along a mango trail.

My mom waged war against the ants with a battery of talc and orange oil as they emerged from impossibly microscopic holes between the grout of our kitchen tile and paraded through our house along the baseboards of our new hardwood floors.

Nature is an awesome thing to behold. We rage and wrestle against it while it tacitly and tenaciously reminds us that it was here first. Our buildings accidentally constructed in the middle of their trails are not their problem, but ours. As I watch the ants stream down our halls I remember those elephants and try to internalize the lesson that sometimes it truly is saner to just "go with the flow".

The Toddler Diet

Next week Selah Grace will be 15 months old. What do you feed a toddler? The gates to a world of food are opening. It would be easy to get uptight and want only all-organic brain food to go down her pipes, but that isn't the reality in the house of Leboffe. Here is a list (no lies) of what our little one ate yesterday. It's my understanding that other toddlers eat like this. I'll just keep telling myself that anyway.

Breakfast:
milk
oatmeal
1/2 banana
3 LARGE bites banana peel
"No, no baby. We don't eat the peel. That's icky, huh?"

Morning Snack:
grape juice
purple crayon tip
2 in. of cardboard book binding
"No, no baby. We don't eat the book. Let's read the book. Come, let's get the crayon chunks off your teeth. That's icky, huh?"

Lunch:
milk
2 cubes mozzerella cheese
3 peas
1 slice wheat bread
grocery list
"You couldn't possibly be bothered with any more peas? How'd you get that list? Open up, let me get it. We don't eat lists. Thank you!"

Afternoon Snack:
milk
blueberries
petrified piece of cookie/cracker? excavated from under the couch
mom's mango popsicle
"Wow. Wherever did you find that bit of biscuit? In the future, we don't eat unidentified objects off the floor."

Dinner:
milk
rice
lentils
2 bites asparagus
3 lbs watermelon
"That's a lot of melon my child! Let's save some for tomorrow. Great eating today. We'll do it all again tomorrow!"

Big Saves

It was easy for us to see God's "big saves" while we were living in Malawi because it was so evident at every turn that we needed God's help. Some of the monumental ways God pulled through for us included: being healthy and safe while in Africa, never having to pay customs or duty on bags and packages, healing Nate's malaria, getting 80% of our post-malaria hospital bill forgiven, being sent on an incredible safari for the price of an $8 bar tab, a healthy pregnancy, friends from Johannesburg who let us use their home and car while we waited for Selah Grace to be born, not to mention the financial support that came in every month.
Now that we're living back in San Diego life feels a little more "ordinary" and its been a lot easier for God to do things that are hard for me to recognize. I don't like that. Things are going well for us and we are feeling more self-sufficient in our lives here, which if I'm speaking honestly, the control-freak inside of me likes. But I'm saddened to realize that I'm not as aware of the Spirit's workings in my life and therefore not as grateful.
Finding the Divine in the mundane. This is my new task.
Here is my new list of God's handiwork from this past year in San Diego: health for our family, buying a house, being given a car, helping to start a marrieds community group, making new friends, Nate finding a job, Nate finding a soccer team, and me getting to not have a job outside the home.
Yesterday as I was thinking about all this and driving, I got pulled over by a cop for the first time in my life! (Well, for the first time in the US.) I had apparently breezed through a stop sign while I was so focused in my discussion with Nate. But the cop was super congenial and didn't give me a ticket even though our proof of insurance card was expired. I think God is scaffolding my new effort to see the big saves so my efforts to be more aware and more grateful were ushered in with bright flashing lights. From now on I've got to keep my eyes open...and pay more attention to those stop signs.