My heart still squeezes a bit when I think of those first months of Morning Time. Partly because I was in a really bad place and partly because my kids were so itty bitty and all I wanted was to be a good mom to them.
Back in 2010 I was in the throes of dealing with PTSD. My husband was in grad school. We had zero money and three kids aged 3 and under. I had a bookshelf that was 90% twaddle and I was pretty convinced I was going to ruin my kids.
I remember feeling overwhelmed going from place to place with the boys, because someone always seemed to be pushing something on us. That “something” usually cost lots of money and it was almost always “something” we were told we needed in order to be good parents. You can ONLY eat organic, you MUST buy all these oils from plants you’ve never even heard of, and it is ESSENTIAL that your child receive chiropractic care after their infant suzuki lessons. Ok, I am being a *leetle bit sarcastic* here. But you get the point. Nothing wrong with any of the above listed things, it just felt like everyone wanted me to prove my good intentions for motherhood by dropping tons of money we didn’t have. It taught me the lesson early on that you don’t need a lot of money to be a good parent. What their hearts truly need, can’t be bought or purchased. With money out of the equation, I had to make the intentional choice to create a culture of love for my children using my words and actions. But how to fight through darkness to this place of love and light?
I’ll be completely honest and say that my panic attacks were terrifying. I often crack jokes on here to minimize things, but there was nothing funny about PTSD. My attacks came with terrible frequency and were the single most discouraging thing I have ever had to face. They made me feel like a bad mom, even though deep in my heart I KNEW that was not the case.
What does this have to do with morning time?
I never had panic attacks first thing in the morning. They usually happened between the early afternoon and late evening hours. Early in the morning, I still felt like maybe I could be a good mom. I still had hope. I wanted to make the most of it!
If you read our first post on Morning Time, you’ll remember that I mentioned the exciting revelation of preparing food for the purpose of luring my children to the same spot each day so I could teach them all at the same time. I chose the morning hour, not for any philosophical reason, but because I could survive it. I chose to feed them simply because it would make them stay. I chose to make it as beautiful as my means would allow so that it would nourish them. Those were the roots of our morning time. Pure survival with a tiny dash of hope.
When I think of beauty born from darkness, I think of morning time. It was the highlight of our days. They are the memories I pray my children stored in their hearts.
It wasn’t fancy or academically rigorous. It was simple and humble and honestly life-giving. Its where we first started bonding over stories. Its where my boys began to appreciate things like intentional meals, shared conversation, and special touches that make a house a home. Their eyes, ears and hearts were slowly opened to ideas bearing truth, goodness and beauty. They heard about honor, mercy, justice, courage, love, kindness, humility and good humor.
I would set out a vase of flowers from our garden, or whatever weeds they had ripped from the yard–roots intact! I would gather the few books I knew in my heart weren’t twaddle. The Bible, AA Milne, Robert Louis Stevenson’s poetry, and a book of Aesop’s fables. On days when I had the wherewithal to make a bigger breakfast, I’d make the most out of the extended minutes and read a bit out of each book. On days when I could only offer up a few bowls of cereal, I read what I could while they quickly guzzled their food.
Some days they were thrilled and asked for “one more story!” before jumping out of their seats while I was mid sentence. This never really hurt my feelings or discouraged me. I had a feeling deep down in my heart that this was a bit like learning how to walk or ride a bike. They were trying things out, testing to see how it worked, deciding whether or not they liked it yet.
Little by little they learned to like it a lot.
My first big breakthrough was the day I discovered “Honey for a Child’s Heart” by Gladys Hunt. This darling woman made a book filled with lists of all the wonderful stories I longed to share with my children. I now had a map for the library, an inside scoop, a cheat sheet!
The boys started to blossom as they heard these stories, but they were still jumping out of their seats too early. Each reading session was only ten minutes and I wanted so badly to finish just ten measly peasly minutes!!!
One day, I tried something new. When they left, I kept reading aloud as though they were still there. I read aloud until I finished that day’s portion. Then I closed the book and called them back to help tidy up the table and sweep up the crumbs beneath. After a week or two of reading to my children even after they had left the table, they started to squirm out of their seats, leave and return— and then linger a bit. Diaper clad bottoms would lean against chairs or dangle over the sides of chairs and my words would roll around the room while they wiggled and weighed their options. After another six weeks they started staying in their chairs until the story was done. One day the eldest chirped up, “And now for a wittle bit more stowies, Mama.” A meager three minutes a day stretched to 15 minutes after nearly 9 months of morning times. This may not sound like much progress, but keep in mind —THREE BOYS AGED THREE AND UNDER. It was miraculous! Whats more, it was a HAPPY 15 minutes.
That first year we only read picture books, the Bible, poetry and fables, and it was wonderful. Messy, imperfect, hilarious, humbling and wonderful. More than half the year was spent with no more than 6-8 minutes of morning time and we grew it ever so slowly.
After the year had passed I set my sights on doing something a bit more “official” than before. I was motivated and ready. My panic attacks were still lurking around, but the mornings were victorious. I was gaining confidence little by little. “Official” sounded good and I was almost positive that if I prayed hard enough, it would happen!
And then I found out I was pregnant again…
Stay tuned for the next stop on The Road to Morning Time— the pregnant pause.
13 thoughts on “The Road to Morning Time: Starting Out”
You are such an encouragement to me. Eventhough I work, I feel like you have given me the tools and ideas I need to connect with my kids and enjoy my role as their mother during my time at home with them. Your “morning times” have become our afternoon “tea times” three times a week when I’m home in time for the bus to drop off after school. Thank you so much. Love your reading lists and specific book recommendations, too.
Kayla, that is so wonderful! I love that you’ve made it your own and are having those special times with your beautiful kids. Love you!
This is such a sweet encouragement. We are in the midst of one of those lean times as my husband has been out of work for many months. So many beautiful books or other things call at me but its been a blessing though hard to learn to be more mindful.
I so appreciate your openness in sharing your story.
Thanks Carrie. Have you ever read any of the posts over at Simply Charlotte Mason? I always appreciate her writing on frugalness in homeschooling. It was so helpful to me back then!
This post really touched me as I am currently 20 weeks pregnant with my fifth baby and starting experiencing terrible panic attacks around week 8 of this pregnancy. It has completely changed me. I am currently terrified to even leave the house since they can come at any moment. I homeschool my children and came across your blog not long ago while searching for activities for my youngest who is three.I was feeling such despair today in regards to this whole panic disorder situation and reading a little bit about your experience really brought comfort. Thank you for sharing.
I am so sorry to hear about your panic attacks. I know the feeling of terror over leaving the house quite well. I started keeping a little stack of notecards with bible verses written on them in my purse. I would flip through them before leaving the house. Kids lined up, baby in the carrier and me with my wrinkled and worn notecards. It wasn’t an overnight victory, but months and months and months later, I could finally leave the house without feeling that grip of terror. There is a new book coming out soon, written by one of my dearest friends, I read an advanced copy and it spoke so deeply to me. It comes out this spring and I plan on sharing it with everyone then. Keep an eye out for it, I think it might minister to you as well!
Love the suggestion of continuing reading once they’ve wriggled away, I’ve been wondering how to stretch things out. I have a tendency to feel nervous when they’re wriggling around as if it’s just not working but I shall persevere! So reassuring. 🙂
Wow! I love this! I have just started “morning time” here in our home in Ghana. We have been in Africa for 10 months. Before that, our life was a whirl of traveling on the road for 4 years. All my little boys know is chaos. I am praying the Lord will help me and my husband to develop a new family culture, establishing our vision and values! While studying CM and preparing for formal learning, I am beginning with Morning Time. I have determined that right now it is about consistency. I have just turned 5, almost 4, 2.5 and 19 month old BOYS! If we can each pick a song to sing and read a page and a half of Danny Meadow Mouse without someone screaming.. we have had success! lol I can relate so much to your story! And I am thrilled and encouraged to know it is possible…. just keep going! Thank you!
I love the idea of the Bible verses and am going to try it. I am certain God led me to this blog yesterday for a reason! Can’t wait to find out more about the book.