A Mama’s Guide to Surviving Summer Break

As I reread this post from last year, I’m reminded of the panic I often experienced as summer approached and the isolation of rural life began to close in on me and 8 kids.  Last year was tough as I’ve detailed in many posts with Ryan’s health issues and the kids getting older, and soon after summer break, we made the life changing decision to change what wasn’t working anymore. We found a house in the Nashville area, and we jumped.  It was the best decision for our family. 

The first week of summer break sucks every single year.

I always vow to wrap my mind around all of my blessed offspring being home for every second of our life together, but apparently I fail because it doesn’t feel very blessed approximately 10 minutes into the first morning as the fighting begins over PBS versus Netflix followed by moans of disgust when breakfast is served and teenage smirks ensue as the youngest squeals “”STOP IT RIGHT NOW!”

Where’d I put my coffee?

I know, some parents love the freedom that summer break offers, but I am not one of those people. I love structure because structure in the form of a school building and angels masquerading

as teachers allows for a few peaceful hours of productivity and peace and productivity are this introverted mama’s best friends. Amen.

Every year, a week before the last day of school, I vow to do better. I vow to have more patience, be more intentional in my unique calling, have more grace and mercy and love – all of those good motherly qualities- but inevitably the stress mounts with my offspring’s constant need for food and entertainment; they fight and bicker and moan and bewail their existence, and I turn and hiss at my husband in the dead of the night – or actually like 9 p.m. because we’re so dang tired –

“You can’t work anymore. You need to stay home and co parent for the summer. No individual is physically and emotionally capable of raising this many human beings for any stretch of time. And honey, four teenagers! Do you understand the complexities and the zits and the hormones? Are you listening?”

I hiss even louder –

“It would drive anyone insane!.”

Those are the words I say, and he smiles and lovingly replies, “You go through this every summer. It’ll get better after a week.”

”

NO IT WON’T! I wail and open my eyes really wide so he knows just how serious I am.

“Give it time” he smiles again.

Of course he smiles – he goes off to work the next morning.

I usually enjoy the rural life that we chose – the peace, birds chirping, the river, the beauty, the land our children roam upon and the innocence this life has provided. I enjoy it all until the last day of school, and then it begins to feel a tiny bit like the land is closing in on me, and the river is rising, and I’m trapped in a zoo where the birds never stop chirping (and yelling and screaming and fighting) and the coyotes are ready to tear me limb to limb if I don’t remain constantly vigilant, and in desperation I inform my husband that we are not living in the country any more. We are moving to the biggest city we can find before the next school year begins. NEW YORK CITY if need be, and I swear I’m not living in rural America for one more day, no sir, I need options! I need restaurants! I need a coffee house and a park and easy access friends for my children and a Mrs. Jones who lives down the road who will dote on my precious babies and feed them snacks and allow constant video games so that I can enjoy a few moments of peace and quiet.

I chose this life but that doesn’t make it easy. I chose to have four children. I chose life for Luke my boy with special needs. I chose Ryan and I chose to adopt his three kids. I chose a rural life, and I chose to have another baby but damn – those choices kick my rear end the first week of summer break as we all figure it out again, figure out how to maintain loving, somewhat tolerable relationships with one another in close quarters – relationships with respect and boundaries – relationships where we still like each other at the end of summer. There is a steep learning curve as the kids sacrifice a huge chunk of their social life from school and a huge learning curve as I give up a pretty significant chuck of quiet work hours. Not to mention, the substantial increase in dishes and trash and diaper changes and grocery runs and meals (have I mentioned the meals)?

Every year I prep for the last day of school. I frantically implement great ideas for our many hours together such as our pool purchase a few years ago. I plan vacations. I sign them up for camps and volunteer positions and kids bowl free coupons. It helps! It really does. And we eventually get into the groove. We stay up a little later, and we sleep in. I begin to relax into what summer is all about and the kids do too. I kick up my feet and read a good book while they splash away in the pool. I shorten the to do list. I lower my expectations and then – just as soon as summer break begins, it comes to an end and without fail I realize, I survived summer break, and I turn to my husband and whisper in shocked acknowledgement –

“Honey. The kids and I have found our groove. They are having fun together and doing their chores without nagging, and helping with Luke and Annabelle, and I kind of like this motherhood gig again. Maybe we should consider homeschooling!”

And he rolls eyes just like he does every summer the week before school begins again because he understands that the only reason we have all found our groove is because we’ve also found the light at the end of the tunnel. Those two miraculous life giving head lights that will soon be rolling down the road at 6:30 a.m, firmly attached to a big yellow bus, ready to transport 7 eager souls promptly back to school.

Ahhhhh. Structure.

Just keep livin.

The Picture Spoke and I Didn’t Listen – A Lesson in Introverted Parenting

Disclaimer – This post is looking at broad, societal generalizations of two strikingly different personality types.   It is merely my understanding of how these personalities interact together on a very small scale of life otherwise known as the Ronne household and how we can successfully mesh them together to create a peaceful and harmonious environment beneficial for all of the family members involved.   

The writing was on the wall from the day I married this man and became mom to three new children.  

It was always there, right in my face, prominently displayed upon our fireplace mantel for the whole world to see, but I never saw what the picture was really saying, speaking to me in a still, small, quiet picture voice.  You see, if you look closely at this picture, you will notice mostly subdued, tired, calm looking children, with two subdued, calm looking parents, that’s what will catch your eye, mostly… except for two of the beings in the picture.  Two children who I would be adopting within the year and becoming legally mom to, two children who I would choose to love as my own, regardless of the lack of bonding I had with them during the early years, two children who would cause me to repeatedly bang my head against a wall in despair and guilt over feeling like I was failing them as a mother because I could not for the life of me figure out why they ticked the way they did, two children with so much joy, so much life, so much exuberance, so much energy, and SO MANY FREAKIN WORDS ALL THE TIME.

I have researched, labeled, prayed, and attempted to reason with these blessings from above in an effort to wrap my mind around how they tick, why they are wired so differently from anything or anyone I’ve ever mothered or experienced before, and I’ve come to the realization, almost three years into knowing them, that it all boils down to two words, two words that have freed me from the confines of guilt within my inner soul in ways I never knew possible and opened my eyes to a realm of possibilities, those two words being so simple, yet so profound:

INTROVERTED – ME

EXTROVERTED – THEM

This moment of revelation, where the Heavens opened up and rang down answers, was a day that happened quite by accident when I stumbled across one woman’s blog entry about being an introverted mom raising an extroverted child and how challenging it was for her and then the fire was eternally stoked. I knew in an instant that I had unearthed the deep mystery of my reality as well and it all started to click.   I spent hours that day researching anything and everything I could find on this very eye opening discovery.  Tate and Jada are extroverted –straight up extroverted, and I am straight up introverted, as are the other 5 children in the family, including the four who have come from my very own loins and as frustrating as it has been for me, I have to imagine these two children have been equally as confused and frustrated, especially ten year old Tate who had a whole new form of motherhood to contend with and adapt to.  A mom who didn’t want to talk about everything, a mom who needed to decompress often, a mom who would jam head phones into her ears to avoid speaking or interacting for periods of time, a mom whose eyes would glaze over in the morning as he bounded down the stairs eager to fill her ears with every single thought that had passed through his mind during the evening.  These two children love to talk, need much less sleep than the rest of us introverted souls, and always, always want to be doing something social.  Their batteries are recharged through going places, seeing people, seeing the world, flinging decorative throw pillows around the room, getting reactions, negative and positive reactions doesn’t matter as long as it leads to someone or something acknowledging and conversing with them, constantly pestering their siblings for the same type of reactions, expressing every single feeling very vocally and very externally, and attempting to fix the funk their introverted mother appears to be in occasionally by doing what they would love to have done for them in a similar situation –BY TALKING, whereas I’m screaming in my head, PLEEEASE…. just give me two seconds to THINK.    

Introverts do very little of any of this because most actions exhaust us after a certain amount of time.  Introverts process almost everything internally and by the time something comes out of our mouths we have thought it through, completely and thoroughly, including any implications that may be involved, and we have deemed it worthy to be vocalized or written to the world as something we stand behind and give our stamp of approval upon (thus many introverts are writers). We are very much homebodies, avoid small talk (it doesn’t seem worthy of the energy), need a significant amount of sleep, and have a much lower need to be social, but that’s not to say we don’t have friends, we are very loyal people and once we actually allow you into our realm of trust, you will be there for a very long time, therefore our circle of intimacy is usually quite small.

The world, especially our American world, is much kinder and more welcoming to extroverts.  We as a culture encourage stress, constant movement,  making all the friends and social media contacts as can possibly be made, loud, inhibition less actions,  excessive congregating and forming groups for this and that and attending  this class, and that Bible study and if you don’t, Why in heavens name wouldn’t you? Don’t you want to grow spiritually with other believers?   Are you struggling spiritually?  Are you backsliding?  What in the world is wrong with you?

Extroverts give the appearance of being much more loving and giving as people than the introverted crowd, generally  basking in the joy of being social, giving back, setting up charities and organizations, hob knobbing with all the people of the world about the next big fundraiser or activity planned and while this is a true characteristic of an extrovert, there is also something inherently and often times unconsciously selfish in these actions in that the acts themselves fill something inside of the extrovert; they fill a void required through this outlet of social stimulation. 

Now contrast this with the introverted perspective on life. No, I probably don’t want to go to every activity and class out there, not even probably no, just straight up no.   My brain needs a lot of time to decompress, alone, or with a single person, either a close girlfriend or my husband.  I enjoy reading something, simply and quietly in the privacy of our home.  Introverts aren’t necessarily rude people although our behaviors are often misinterpreted as rude, we are just very intense people who need to get away from it all and reenergize ourselves; in contrast to the extrovert who gains energy from people and a constant social life, introverts loose energy at pretty rapid paces when we are called upon to be always socially available, not to mention it can cause some massive headaches because it’s just not how we are wired.   It’s not even that we don’t want a social life, we just realize that it will drain us, and we will pay for it with hours of down time and medication later.   Ryan and I love date night and 90% of the time it’s just the two of us, in a quiet place, chatting about life.  Occasionally we double date with people who are very dear to us, and although we enjoy it, the time leading up the event can cause some anxiety because we both realize how much more  it will take out of us to double date, this feeling of being “on” for other people.  Introverts totally understand this, extroverts think we’re nuts because we can’t and won’t stay out until midnight, soaking in the moment, chatting and dancing the night away.  If we did this, we would need to regroup for a month.  It’s exhausting to feel like you need to be on all the time and introverts feel this especially in the presence of an extrovert. 

Bottom line, I love these children fiercely.  Being introverted, I will take some time to process this, claim it as my reality, and then my first born nature will kick in, and I will make it as right as I possibly can by our family. I hope to have some practical suggestions to share in the next post for other introverted parents struggling as well or if you have suggestions, please let me know in the comments.  Ignorance can seem to be blissful for a period, but knowledge is ultimately the most powerful force.

I’m exhausted, time to decompress with a nap…

Just keep livin!!

Best 7 Reasons I Get out of Bed + Coffee


In honor of Mother’s day I’ve chosen to recognize 7 little people who have made motherhood a reality for me.  Caleb, Tate, Lucas, Mya, Mabel, Josh and Jada – you literally get me up in the morning and keep me on my toes (with lots and lots of coffee!).  Each one of you has brought such joy to my life in unique ways, and although I’m not always the greatest at remembering to tell you how much you mean to me, know from the bottom of my heart, that you kids are my heartbeat. 
 
Caleb – My first born son, named after one of the Biblical spies allowed into the Promised Land, a sign of God’s blessing upon our family.   You arrived in my life when I was merely 25 years old, and  I bore you with a great amount of pain and determination, but you were so worth it.  You were my “little beaner” and we were buddies from day one.  You have seen way too much in your short 10 years from your brother being severally handicapped, to your stressed out mom during many of those hard years, to accepting a new brother and two new sisters and embracing the fact that your mom would be spread even thinner than she already had been, to finally being the one to discover that your birth father had left our family to journey onward to his forever home.   I am so proud of the little man you have become.  I pray that you continue to find beauty in this world, continue to push yourself past all limits and continue to ask the questions that no one else will ask.  Always open your heart even when this world will send numerous blows your way. Continue to trust in HIM son, he we make all of your paths straight. Dad and I love you so much.   
 
 
 
 
 

 

 Tate, my son.  You ran circles around my brain for about the first year I was blessed to be called your mom.  I’ve never met a child like you who could literally talk all day long!  You always have a spark for life that has never faded, even when your own birth mom passed away and you were left with a gaping hole in your heart.  You, Tate, gave your dad hope so that he could move on and pursue love again, and you paved the way for your family to step out of grief and embrace the gift of a new family that God had sent their way.  Thank you Tate for being bold enough to speak it like it is.  Thank you for your tender heart and for accepting and loving me as your mom.  Thank you for always being cautious of not hurting my feelings or the feelings of others by speaking of things that would only be painful.  Tate, you have not let the hardships of life keep you down and instead you have risen to any challenge and have actually risen above and beyond anything we could have ever thought possible.  We love you buddy. 

Mya – You bonded to me immediately. We mirror each other in so many ways and that has made our relationship easy sailing at times and at other times some pretty rough waters.  They say, what bothers you the most in others are your own worst personality traits and tendencies, and I would have to say that is an accurate statement!   You are my wingman just as I was called upon to be a wingman in my youth, and that makes you helpful, a know it all, dependable, and absolutely necessary in my life as a mom.   You, my daughter, carry a special role in our family as the oldest girl, weight is put upon you that is not always fair but you never balk at what is needed or asked, you just fulfill your role quietly and respectfully (usually).   You have an old soul brought on by heartache and life but right now, in this moment, I’m so thankful that I get to be your mom.   Thank you for accepting this role so easily and readily. Thank you for loving me and welcoming me into your heart.  Keep your eyes on Jesus and he will direct your path. I love you Mya Dru. 

Mabel Grace.  Oh sweet pistol girl.  I wanted you so badly.  Actually I wanted a daughter so badly and when you were lifted out of my stomach and the doctor said, “It’s a girl!”  I just wept.  You have brought a smile to my face during some of the darkest moments a person can walk through.  Sweet girl, you were so oblivious to the pain surrounding your first three years of life, your birth daddy being diagnosed with brain cancer months after you were born, chemo, radiation, Luke’s brain surgeries, another terminal brain cancer diagnosis and finally the death of your first father.  I’m sorry I didn’t have any better answers for your little three year old heart when you awoke to find him gone the next day.  I’m sorry for the confusion and the pain that you’ve endured in your short 6 years.  I’m sorry that I checked out on everything for those three dark months after his death. I thank God every day for sending you a new daddy and for the bond of love you have with him.  Keep your fire my little pistol, it will serve you well (most of the time) throughout your days.  Along with that fire, carry your sword of the spirit and nothing will be able to sever you from your path.  I love you sweetie. 

Joshua  – my sign of a promise, named for the other spy who could enter the promised land.   I had no idea why in the world I would wind up pregnant during the worst possible time in my life with your birth father on chemo and radiation.  It seemed like you had to be a sign of a promise for my life, and you were actually a sign for something so far beyond anything I could have comprehended or conceived in those moments.  You provided me with something to live for during those months when your birth father could live no longer.  You gave me hope and a promise for a better tomorrow and that better tomorrow has been fulfilled for me, you kids, and your birth father.  I look at you today, all little man of you, at 3 years old with a gun shoved down your pants just like your big brothers and marvel at what God pulled together in your life.  You now have a sister you couldn’t’ live without and a brother who is not your blood but probably more your brother than any other family member, and a daddy who you love and who loves you.   Little boy, God knew what he was doing when he placed you in my womb.  Thank you Joshua Isaac for something you have no comprehension of right now, thank you for being born for such a time as this and allowing your mother to believe again that there would be beauty from the ashes.  I love you crazy boy. 

Jada –You dear little girl, I love you ferociously but at times, my goodness….  You have a stubborn tenacity that would be hard on any woman. I didn’t have the chance to bond with you in my womb, and I didn’t bond with you in your infancy either.  That was a gift you gave your birth mother, and I’m sure you made her final days here on earth full of peace and joy while cradling you in her arms. In fact, you came into my life during the “stinker” years of 1-3 and those aren’t easy for any mother, let alone a mother who hasn’t had any initial bond with a child. I have prayed, many, many prayers of patience and understanding during these last two years.   We, little Jada Alexis, are finding our sweet spot finally.  I am thankful to be your mom, and I’m thankful for the stretching and pulling of my faith and life that you have brought.  I’m thankful that you have sent me to my knees repeatedly in an effort to seek God’s will for my children. Jada, you are my princess girl.  Always remember, I love you, I want to be the mom you need more than just about anything, and that I chose you because of that unconditional love.  I love you princess. 

 
Lucas Aaron Ronne – you have changed us all for the better.  People wonder what the purpose of your life is and it is such an absurd question.  You find joy in every single day.  I don’t think many people can say that.  You find joy in school, in family, in movies, in music, in food, and in chocolate milk.  Every day, these things bring joy to your life.  You don’t wish your life to be different, just as I don’t wish my life to be different.  We are all in God’s perfect will just exactly where we are and that’s the best life you could ever live – smack dab in his will.  You, little boy, are such a blessing and in fact, I believe that your life isn’t even necessarily about you, your life is about everyone around you and how we each change because you miraculously live.  You dear boy, are a miracle.  My beautiful family is a miracle and just as you don’t wallow in your limitations, we also don’t wallow in our loss, and instead we rejoice in what was created from the loss.  Here’s to you Luke, “let’s give ‘em something to talk about….!” 
 
 
 

Rights, Watching, and Living

A few weeks ago I was finally able to drop off the adoption paperwork for the 7 kids.  This process has taken us over a year to complete (and that’s just the paperwork!) I went to the courthouse last May to pick up everything thinking it would be a fairly simple process, NOT so, come to find out you have to be married at least a year before you can adopt a step child.  Each child had a packet of about 25 pages that needed to be filled out and each one needed additional legal documents attached to their packet, death certificate, birth certificate, and marriage certificate.  Dropping it off was a huge relief.  I could now cross “adoption” off my list.  As I handed the clerk the huge stack of papers I asked her how long she thought it would take.  Her response threw me a bit, “It should be completed within 6 months.  You’ll have the home study but you’ll be able to skip the court date for terminating the parental rights because upon the death of a parent they immediately lose all rights.” Wow, just like that, you die, you have absolutely no rights anymore to the children you made. Without your egg or your sperm these children would not exist.  It seems like there would be some sort of legal loophole to that theory, and I’m sure there have been a handful of people who have tried to find a loop hole throughout the years.  It made me wonder, if one of them would have put in their will something to the effect of, “upon my death, I will not allow anyone to adopt my children”, would that have given them a voice from the grave?  Been some sort of a loop hole?  Sorry, this is where my mind goes, but really, would that be upheld in a court of law?  Not that they would do that, but as a mother I hate to think that if I die I have no rights left to my own children.  Although, it won’t matter I suppose, and that’s the faith part of it.  And, as I’ve said before, they aren’t really ours to begin with; ultimately we trust that He will take care of them.   I think part of this doesn’t sit well with me because I don’t believe you really die when you die. I understand that we need the terminology, but I do believe that they are both very fully alive, in fact more alive than we are.  I also don’t buy into the concept of them watching over us, I know highly controversial to most who want to believe this, and maybe I’m wrong, but to someone who has remarried, it’s a little disturbing to think that they are watching us, critiquing us, our marriage, our love life, our parenting skills, our lack of parenting skills or whatever it is they would want to observe. It makes me a little squeamish to think that they might watch over us like guardian angels or possess some sort of super powers.  I know that this thought brings many people an incredible amount of comfort, but I don’t see any Biblical backing for it. There’s the verse in Hebrews that people often use, “Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us,” but as most translators and Bible commentators can agree, the word witness does not mean “spectator” here, it means bearing witness and more specifically, they are bearing witness to the faithfulness of God. Honestly, I think they have much more interesting things to watch where they are than our lives. I prefer knowing that Almighty, All knowing, All merciful, full of grace God is watching over me, “The Lord will keep you from all harm—he will watch over your life; the Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.” (Psalm 121:7-8) and I believe that it was His presence, not my late husband’s, that brought me comfort and peace in my darkest moments for He promises, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” Matthew 11:28. Just keep livin!