In Which the Grinch Speaks

Several weeks ago I posted about how we abstain from Halloween celebrations of any kind. So it should come as no surprise that we also don't do the Santa thing during the Christmas season. *Gasp!*

I know - we're the Grinch-y adults in all the Christmas movies who "don't believe" and who contribute to the horrible vortex into into which all the Christmas spirit is apparently disappearing. Don't we believe in magic? Don't we believe in joy? How could we deprive our children of this essential part of childhood? Now I have to say, once again, that it's both interesting and frustrating to me that it seems acceptable to pose these kinds of questions to those who abstain, but it is practically unthinkable to challenge in reverse. Even those of us on this side of the practice feel we need to handle the issue very, very carefully. We don't want to offend. We don't want to burst the bubble for anyone else's children. And yet, few people have qualms about saying, "What? You don't believe in Santa?", often in the presence of our children.

We strive to deal with all matters "with gentleness and respect," so we would never encourage or condone our children in mocking other family's practices and beliefs, or in making it their determined goal to set the Santa record straight among their friends. But I will say that I would also never ask them not to say out loud that Santa isn't real. It is not our responsibility to help anyone perpetuate deceit, and however it's wrapped in all things magical and sacred to the wonder of childhood, this is a deceit. I'm not attacking anyone personally here, so I don't wish anyone to take it that way, but also, I won't apologize for speaking the truth, and for defending our choices.

So I suppose that's one primary reason we don't go the Santa route. It's a deception, rather elaborately packaged, and there's no way for us to make a conscious choice to begin such a lie in our family. Another is that it doesn't actually appear to have any redeemable quality that could possibly contribute to our celebration of Christmas. We realize that some Christmas traditions do have their roots in pagan culture, and some of those , we still incorporate in our family traditions. We only adopt those forms that we feel can have new and valuable meanings under our belief system, and that works for us. For some people, even that's not acceptable, and we completely respect their choices. For us, there's just nothing redeemable about Santa.

Now, we try not to make a huge deal about this, and we don't have a problem watching some movies about Santa (hey, we LOVE Elf here!), and we don't forbid songs which include Santa.
That's probably inconsistent of us, I know, but that's the way it is. I guess we feel that if we tried to eliminate any mention of Santa altogether, we would create a forbidden fruit type of situation. At any rate, this means that the other day, Ryan was stuck on the song "Santa Clause is Coming to Town." "He sees you when you're sleeping/ He knows when you're awake!" he sang as he walked by me at one point in the day. I smiled and said, "That's kind of a creepy thought." Ryan stopped and said seriously, "Well you know, that's really about God. God always does see you." And I, remembering something I had read in my Bible that morning, replied, "That's true. And you know what is really neat? Santa only gives us gifts when we're good. God gives us gifts because He's good."

And that for us is where we're always trying to direct our Christmas traditions and practices - toward celebrating the absolute goodness of God. How thankful we are that he has never rewarded us for our own worthiness! How grateful we are for his Son, of course, but also for the countless gifts He gives us daily simply because He is good. How completely, and thankfully, unlike the manipulative Santa figure.

You do your thing - but by faith! Do it because you believe it to be the right thing, not just the thing every one else does! - and we'll do ours.

Merry Christmas!

"...We do not make requests of you because we are righteous, but because of your great mercy." Daniel 9:18

Some Feel-Good Tidbits...

My boys are definitely ALL boy - the rough-and-tumble, energtic, roll-in-the-dirt, and loud variety. but sometimes they can still melt my heart.

Ryan told me a couple days ago, out of the blue, that the way to treat a horse is to use a "soft hand, a firm voice, a sunny attitude, praise and reward." He heard it from one of his Magic Treehouse CD's - the series he listens to for hours on end - but the way he said it, so assuredly and sweetly, he made me sigh happily. Every once in awhile, I ask him to repeat it for me, cherishing the sound of his little-boy voice say things like, "sunny attitude." Maybe it's just me. Probably you had to be there to fully appreciate it.

But it should be easier for everyone to understand the impact of Drew's comment over dinner. We were talking about the code of chivalry, specifically about the "women and children first" policy embraced by most of the men on the doomed Titanic. Aimee was saying that she didn't like how that seemed to make women "weaker" - she's going through a bit of a feminist stage, it seems - and so eventually I asked her what she thought the standard should be instead. This was a little tough for her, as she is just discovering at this point in this point in her life that it is quite easy to make sweeping philosophical statements, but another thing altogether to back them up. At any rate, after thinking it over, she said that maybe it should be "families first." Drew, who had been silent up to then, chimed in seriously, "Families should stick together. Because you wouldn't want someone to survive, just to live the rest of their lives in sorrow."

He really said that. And I really choked a bit on the bite of food I had just taken, and my eyes really did start to tear up right then and there.

Today they acted, sounded, smelled just like boys. And I love every inch of their dear little selves.

In Which We Broach a Touchy Subject

"We don't celebrate Halloween."

The way many people react to that statement alone, you'd think we had said something like,

"We never let our children get within ten feet of candy," "We don't believe in letting them have fun," or "You're evil."

It's tiresome. We have family and close friends who celebrate the holiday in various fashions, and I think most of them respect our decision not to, the same way we respect their decisions, but this is still such a tricky (no pun intended) subject that those who abstain feel the need to walk on eggshells around it. It's hardly safe to make the above statement alone, much less to explain why, without people getting defensive.

For several reasons, this year seemed to be a harder one than others for my kids. They really wanted to know - again and again - why we don't do it, and can't we PLEASE?? So while we don't usually do anything at all on Halloween, I looked around for some kind of alternative event. After all, I have no objection to dressing up in costumes, having fun, or...ok, it's true. I do think candy is probably of the devil! But my kids still get to have some now and then. At any rate, I looked, and I found plenty of trunk-or-treat events, but no fall festivals or anything else completely removed from the trick-or-treating category. Still, I suggested that we might go to one. I didn't want to be legalistic and have the kids eventually become resentful.

But it never quite sat right. We believe that "...whatever does not come from faith is sin," so we feel like we need positive reasons to do a thing that might be considered a "gray" area. We have abstained from Halloween in the past because we believe that the festivities currently associated with it are too attached to the holiday's origins, and have no redeemable qualities. As I considered whether we could do something this year that we had previously not done, for those reasons, I went through all the reasoning for why we might do it, and it amounted to the following:

...The kids wouldn't feel left out.

...It would be fun.

...It's not necessarily "bad."

None of those are "from faith" reasons, particularly the last one. Just because something has an apparent absence of evil certainly does not make it a good thing. In fact, for us, it would be an unfortunate compromise of what we believe to be true, and therefore a decidedly bad thing. Actually I think the Bible uses a stronger term. It would be sin for us.

A few days ago, I also read this from Vision Forum, and it re-affirmed what we already knew to be true for us, and my mind was all the more made up. Dave and I talked it over again, and he felt the same way, and so just a couple days ago, I broke the news to the kids, bracing myself for the worst. In fact, I told them that I knew they would probably be angry, and that was ok. It was my fault for beginning to lead them down one road, and then abruptly changing directions. But they surprised me by shrugging it off and saying they didn't mind. When I told them that we had decided to do a Reformation party (of sorts) instead, and that we would have cake, balloons, and games to celebrate Martin Luther's birthday, they were excited. After dinner last night, we played Jenga and Twister (the latter of which caused hysterical laughter and fun), then cake while I read a little about the Reformers from The Church History ABC's, and the central theme was summed up well by the last statement about the last one we read about, "The Bible tells us everything we need to know, from A to Z." And with that, the night was over. It was easier than each of us thought, and the kids went to bed without any regret about missing anything. Dave and I went to bed with clear consciences.

I realize that just by posting this, I am risking bristly reactions. I am certainly not saying anything about anyone else's reasons for celebrating Halloween. As I said, we have family and friends who do. We assume that they do so "from faith." We don't get defensive when they talk about their Halloween plans. We wouldn't get defensive if they even explained their reasoning for their freedom to celebrate. But I confess, we do become weary from feeling like we can't even say that we don't, much less explain why, so that's all this post is.

Although....I still think candy is evil!

In Which Sometimes It's Not as Hard as You'd Think...and Sometimes It's Exactly LIke That

"I just don't know how you do it!"

I hear this kind of comment not frequently, sometimes as a way of communicating "You're nuts!", and sometimes as a way of posing the question for informational purposes - "How do you do it? "It's enough work to handle the three [or whatever] kids I have, and you have five! And you homeschool them?" And my typical answer is, "We just do it. We've got them, so we just do what we have to do. It works out." When people ask how we homeschool such a crew, my line is that it's not as hard as people think.

And that's mostly true. Someone once asked me where I did school with the kids, and when I appeared a bit confused, she went on, "You know...are they all sitting around a table?" I realized that many people have this idea of a "typical" eight hour-school day, with mom as a typical teacher, instructing several grades all at once, which in truth does sound ghastly, not to mention impossible. No, I could never do that. Homeschooling - or at least our version of it, is quite a bit different, and I've posted about that often enough here. Anyway, that's pretty much true of having this number of children as well. When a pregnant mom of several young children asks me, with something akin to terror in her eyes, how I manage, and seem to do it so well, I know she's thinking that having five of the children she's got sounds impossible. I encourage her with the fact that there's good news. Nay, great news! They get older. They don't always need every single thing done for them. (Sometimes I have to remind them of this, but never mind that at the moment...) They go spend hours in their rooms because they want to. They go to sleep at night in their own beds and stay there. All night. And when it comes to homeschooling them, they can do many things on their own. For that matter, even when they are little and need more attention, that's some of the best - and easiest kind of homeschooling. It just involves lots of reading, looking at caterpillars, and playing. Lots and lots and LOTS of reading and playing.

So it's probably not as hard a prospect as they envision. Also, when they look at me and think, "Wow - she's doing it so well," their vision is perhaps not quite clear. It's a nice compliment, truly, and I do appreciate it when out in public it appears that we're doing some things right. Yay! (And I know that even in actuality, we are doing some things right.) But sometimes the appearance of success and "she-has-it-togetherness" can be misleading, and unfortunately so. What I don't talk about enough are days like today. Tonight I talked to a mom interested in having a number of kids and in homeschooling, and it would probably not have been the most encouraging thing to say to her, "You know, it's all not so hard as you might think... except on days like today, when, frankly, I wanted to lock the kids of my bedroom, crawl under the covers and, stay there until their father got home. We're all wearing smiles now, but an hour ago, tempers were flaring, no one liked each other, and my house looked like a bomb hit it. Hardly any "school" got done because no one would pay attention to me, and I was failing at getting them to obey me...hey, I was pretty much failing at being a good mom, period. My crowning achievement this afternoon was that I presided over everyone surviving it."

It might have scared her off, but if she does have a large family and does decide to homeschool them, it might have actually been good to have been able to retrieve the memory of someone essentially saying, "Sister, we're all just doing the best we can. Sometimes it looks nice, and sometimes it looks pretty ugly. That's normal. You're normal. You're not failing."

I keep a friend's baby a couple days a week, and when she comes to pick him up, she gets to see us at the time of day that is often the most messy and chaotic. Periodically I thank her for seeing us at our most "real," and still choosing to be our friend anyway! I think it would be beneficial if we all got a peek at each other's "real-ness" now and then. Certainly those who saw mine would know that often I am hanging on by a slender thread of sanity some days! And in seeing that, either they would realize that I'm not quite so amazing and feel encouraged...or they would be confirmed in their belief that having and homeschooling five children is in fact an impossibly nutty thing to do.

Perspective...and the Lack Thereof

I recently posted on Facebook about how homeschool kids may lack some perspective. Mine do, anyway. The other day I called up to them that it was time to come downstairs, and one of the older kids called back down inquisitively, "For what?"

Oh, I don't know. To start our day! To do some school - you know, that stuff we (try) to do five days a week. I know we're relaxed about it, but good grief, it does figure into our schedule enough so that I would think they would understand this is a recurring thing. But no, they still tend to act a little surprised when they discover (day after day after day) that once again, we have learning to do. My reaction to this ranges from baffled amusement to annoyance, the latter because I would love for them to understand that most of their peers get up at the same time each morning, get dressed, go the same building, then go the same classes at the same time, every day, pretty much all day. Maybe I'm having a "grass is greener on the other side" moment, because those kids probably complain a fair amount about it, but I wouldn't think they wake up regularly and say, "What? School again? Didn't I just do that yesterday?"

Of course, on the flip side, I am trying to make a statement that what we do here is NOT just "school at home." I'm not after the kids mimicking a typical school experience, so I don't really want to be throwing in their faces all the time the "if you were in school..." line. It might be nice if they had some perspective on their situation, and, if I'm honest, it might be nice if out of that perspective bloomed a sense of gratitude and appreciation for what they do have. And it might be nicer still if that caused them to get dressed, do their chores, and present themselves to me each morning ready to seize the day and learn.

Shhh. Stop laughing. Let me have this moment to dream.

Ok, back to reality...here's what I tend to hear instead,



"Why do we have to start school so early? [at 9:30] Aren't we going to have any time to [read, ride bikes, build with LEGOs, etc, etc] first?"

Upon finding one of my children still in their pajamas at a time in the morning when I would have expected something different..."Why are you not dressed?" Child - "You didn't tell me I had to get dressed." Oh, right - silly me! I thought maybe after nine years of living you might have assumed that's just what we do in the morning.


With dramatic sighs - "What do you treat us like slaves?" This from my six year-old, who does collectively a whole 30 minutes worth of "formal" school each day. I just laughed.

If I start talking about the next subject as we're wrapping up the first subject of the day, "What? Aren't we going to get a break first?" Apparently since we must do school, the ideal schedule is 15 minutes of school, followed by an hour or so of breaks, and so on.

And since we're talking about breaks, this one really cracked me up, "We've had a two-hour break, and you want us just to start right back up instantly?"


A response to being posed arelatively simple math question, "Do you expect me just to say the answer immediately? Well, that's the goal eventually, yes dear.



It never ceases to amaze me that they haven't developed a set a more realistic set of expectations by now. Oh, but what's that you say? Maybe it's the mother who ought to have developed a more realistic perspective and set of expectations after 11 years of having children? I do have to remind myself that perhaps that's true. Perhaps I should expect the kids to act like kids - not to stay there, obviously, and not to get away with doing nothing at all - but it might at least help my attitude to remember that they're supposed to act like children. They can't possibly have a broad perspective on educational styles or any other aspect of life, for one thing, and for another, it's the job of all children to question, to push boundaries, to learn the ropes of life sometimes the hard way. And it's not my job to make sure they know how good they have it, but to gently, lovingly, and firmly guide them through each day. Eventually they'll get themselves dressed each morning without having to be reminded. I don't hold out too much hope that they'll come to accept daily learning and instruction, but it could happen!

In the meantime...[insert the sound of my cracking whip here]!

Play of the Game

I should comment first on my ever so long absence from blogging. Dave was working in Savannah for the past three weeks (three weeks!), so I wasn't doing much else but...well, everything. Perhaps I'll post about our time in his absence, but I may just leave it with this summation - everyone ate relatively good food, we made it to places we were supposed to be (and usually on time), we did a fair amount of schoolwork, and the house wasn't a complete disaster by the time Dave finally came home. So I call that a success. But of course, we're also terribly glad to have him home again!

At any rate, today all three boys had their first flag football games, the two younger ones at our YMCA, and Drew at another nearby branch (for reasons that would take too long to explain and wouldn't particularly enhance this story). We decided that Dave and Aimee would take the younger ones to their games, and Scarlett and I would go with Drew, who actually had a double header. I'll take this moment to mention that I was dreading, just a bit, the idea of having a toddler (have I mentioned that she's walking now? Woo-hoo!), out on a field by myself for two hours, but I discovered that she was content to sit in my lap most of the time. At the end of it, I was just looking at her in grateful awe. For two hours this little miss just sat and looked at books and played with empty water bottles, never once attempting to run off anywhere. As I thought about it, I realized that my last two toddlers, and especially Chase, never once stopped for anything, and I had to spend their entire toddlerhoods chasing...er, following...them and pulling them down off dangerous heights. What fun that was! (I'm not being sarcastic. I really did appreciate their energy and daring, even though, admittedly, it was exhausting.) And what a blessed, beautiful relief that I'm not having to do that with the current toddler!

So I actually enjoyed my two hours watching Drew's games. Part of my enjoyment was supplied by his coach, who is an 18 year-old Y employee and who is one of the most SUPER PSYCHED people I've ever met. I hadn't met him before, because other Y employees had run Drew's previous practices, and this was the coach's first time meeting the team. I was a little taken aback by his hyper intensity at first, but as I sat watching the team with the other parents, we all began to laugh along with his antics, and eventually to appreciate his enthusiasm. Sure, it's probably a little over the top, but he taught the boys, encouraged everyone, made sure they all played the different positions and substituted fairly, and he was a lot of fun all the way around. Drew seemed to enjoy his coaching and the game in general, but occasionally he became frustrated with himself because he wasn't completing some of the flashier and exciting plays that I guessed he had been hoping for. He was also pretty hard on himself for mistakes he made and couldn't really get the perspective I tried to offer him when I assured him that everyone was making mistakes and it wasn't a big deal.

Toward the end of his second game, it was his turn to sit out for a few minutes, and he came to me rather upset. After listening for a minute, I told him (again) that I thought he was doing a good job and playing hard, but that I understood his frustration and that of course he could vent it - when he got home. I encouraged him quietly to take a deep breath and display good sportsmanship and a good attitude on the field, and to continue cheering on his teammates. To his credit, he nodded and took that deep breath. Just about then, one of his teammates got hurt and was escorted off the field in tears. It looked like Drew was going to have to go right back in, and I was glad to see him get up and walk toward the sidelines without hesitation.

But before he walked out on to the field, he stopped and turned to his injured teammate nearby.

He patted him on the shoulder and asked if he was ok. My mother's heart just melted a little and my
knees went a little wobbly. If I had been like his coach I would have bounded (yes, bounded) up and down, shouting, "YES! WAY TO GO! WHAT AN AWESOME PLAY!" But I didn't, of course. First of all, I'm not like that in general. Second, it would have embarrassed the living daylights out of Drew, who had informed me earlier that it was ok to cheer for his team but not for him personally (I think I messed up on that once or twice - oh well.) And third, I think it's best for all involved if good deeds happen with little fanfare. I did tell him afterwards that I was proud of him for it.Even if I had laid the praise on thick, though, I don't think he would have believed that it was worth so much more than the plays he had hoped to make. I think he was probably still a little disappointed with himself. But in my opinion - admittedly biased though it is - it was the best thing I saw happen all afternoon.

Way to go, Drew, for making the play of the game.

"You Don't Want Any of Those"

Earlier this week the kids and I gathered around the dining room table to play the board game Life, which Aimee had borrowed from a friend and had been begging us to play. (Playing games of this sort are something of an adventure with the little boys...but that's another subject altogether!) We got started, and early on in the game, I got married, and soon after, had a baby boy. Yay! :-) But upon seeing this, Drew said matter-of-factly, "Oh, you don't want any of those." I asked him why, and he said, "Every once in awhile you land on squares that tell you to pay a bunch of money for each kid you have - they cost a lot of money!" And I was momentarily stunned, as I listened to my son unconsciously spouting one of the worst lies of which Satan has thoroughly convinced our culture -that "you don't want any of those, because they cost so much money."

We hear this sentiment all the time, usually expressed after the fact, as in, "Well, I guess it's ok that you have that many children...as long as you can afford them." (Thanks for the permission.!) Often complete strangers will say this kind of thing, and sometimes in not too veiled a fashion. But it's even sadder to me this notion is even espoused in Christian circles. We were in a small group once that studied and discussed a Christian parenting series, and I remember the sinking feeling I had when I glanced over one of the chapters and read that good stewardship should determine when a couple begins to have children, and how many they should have. I have trouble with this idea, because I don't see this anywhere in the Bible. "Be fruitful and multiply...but first do the math and make sure you can afford it!" Or, "Children are a heritage from the the Lord...just be sure you only have only the size heritage you can fit in your car."

Of course it's true that kids almost literally eat money. I'm not so sure that the boys wouldn't actually eat it if given the opportunity. With a houseful of children, it's true that the idea of ever having any "extra" money is pretty laughable. It's true that we have no idea how we're going to send five kids to college in the future, and even in the present, each year it's a struggle to let them do extras like sports and...well, anything! Guess how often we go to the movies! In fact, I'll admit here and now that we're not always sure how we're going to clothe them. We don't have a sufficient clothing budget for seven people, and as fall approaches and I look at wrists and ankles poking out of last year's clothes, and the shoes of very active boys literally falling to pieces, I'm not sure how everyone is going to get what they need. And after we do take care of their wardrobes, will Dave and I be hitting the mall for ourselves? Nope. So does this mean that we have more than we should have had? That we were bad stewards of what God gave us? Should we have done better calculations a decade ago and planned for only the number of kids we could keep fed, decently clothed, in sports leagues and music lessons, and eventually into good colleges?

First of all, I think it's a trifle arrogant and short-sighted to assume that you can know enough about your future to know exactly what you'll be able to afford. People with only two children lose jobs. World events and disasters of all kinds have taken families in one circumstance and thrust them into a completely different one. That which was true about life, suddenly wasn't anymore. So here we are in a society that has certain expectations for childhood and the path to successful adulthood, but who knows. College may be a reality in the next decade, and it may be the last thing in the world our children to which our kids can even give a thought. Maybe playing sports, taking lessons of all kinds, and getting a thorough education will have been incredibly important for success...and maybe none of it will have mattered. At the end of the day, the year, the decade...and the end of our lives and theirs, even if everything in the world remains unaltered, will all that have mattered? Will I look at my children and think, "If only I hadn't had 'so and so.' And 'so.' And probably another 'so.' Then the first ones could have had a real life." Or will any of them regret their existence, or begrudge each other existence, because they had to wear hand-me-downs and received too few sports opportunities? I really doubt it.

Second, the bottom line is that we can plan all we like, for things from being able to afford luxuries, all the way down to the essentials of a grocery budget, and the truth is that God provides these things. We are completely reliant on him, and if we think otherwise, we've been deceived. In Matthew 6 He says, "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." I certainly think this applies to providing for children, and I see no other indication that God asks us to limit our children in consideration of whether we can afford them for the entirety of their lives. We're not even to be worrying about tomorrow. "Life is more important than food." Children are more important than the sum of what they cost.

Third, children are people, not just "kids." And people in general are not just a number. I absolutely hate those commercials in which people carry around their "number," indicating the amount of money it would take them to retire comfortably. See points 1 and 2. Anyway, in that case, boiling life down to how much it takes to live it until you die is a rather depressing notion. Now, I obviously don't mean that we should never plan, never look ahead. We're supposed to be wise with our money, and being smart about saving is hardly a bad thing. But life is not just about numbers, and certainly the Bible talks about the dangers of money far more than about its benefits. Having a great deal of money is a much greater problem, biblically speaking, than having a great deal of children. And yet no one ever says, "Are you sure you should accept that raise?"

This isn't a pregnancy announcement! I don't know if we'll have any more children (and I certainly understand about times that are better than others to have another child - again, that's another issue, and one for which God has provided). If we don't, it won't be because we're worried about whether or not we can afford them. In answer to Drew's observation (which, of course, was perfectly innocent and only about the game), I would say, "Yes, we DO want some of those!" We're thankful we have a houseful of them. They're what we really can't live without.

In Control...or in Charge?

So it seems that just in case I should start feeling too good about myself as a parent, one (or more) of my kids make sure I am taken down a notch or two. Humility is a good thing.

Today it was Chase. Dave wasn't able to be with me at church this morning, so I was flying solo in navigating everyone through the morning. We got there on time, and the Sunday School hour went well, but then I had to pick Chase up while Drew and Ryan went to Children's Church. Ryan's Sunday School teacher graciously allows Chase to come in with him, even though the Sunday School class officially starts with 1st grade, but he is not allowed in Children's Church, and I can understand that. It's a larger class, with a wider age range, and while Chase would probably do just fine, the leaders have no way of knowing that. Anyway, this is the point in the morning where we usually run into some trouble. Chase becomes angry, and when that happens, he tends to become uncooperative. Somehow I managed to get him downstairs, though, and we hung around in the atrium and had a snack while waiting for the service to start. I asked him if he thought he would like to go in his class - "They're going to be talking about David and Goliath today!", to which he replied, "Well. I've already heard that one." It didn't seem like he was going to be convinced, so I reminded him of our rule, which is that we don't require kids to go into their classes, but if they choose not to, they must sit quietly in the service with us.

I knew this was going to be dicey, though, since I already had Scarlett and knew she wasn't likely to make it past the singing anyway. But in we went, and only seconds later he began talking in a voice he knew was just a hair too loud. Then as the singing went on, he left my side and went to talk to Aimee (who, poor thing, was just along for this crazy ride), and then he went around her, just outside my reach, and perched himself on the back of the pew in front of us. I told him to get down, he initially did, but climbed back up, this time a little farther away from me, and I, recognizing the signs of a quickly accelerating downward spiral, indicated to him that we were going to step out. And he refused to come. So I laid hold of him rather firmly (with one hand, since I still had Scarlett on my hip) and insisted that he follow me. I began moving toward the exit, he began pulling against me, so the end result was that I made my exit from the auditorium literally dragging him behind me.

Well, no, to say that was the end result would not be quite accurate. I swung him up onto a chair in the hallway, and had to dodge a few attempted punches. Nice. I confess I looked up and down the hall hastily to see if anyone was watching this, and thankfully, they weren't. So I managed to get him off the chair and through another set of double doors to a hallway that would be more conducive to...ahem...discussing this issue. I sat him down in the hall. He ran away. I caught him before he got away again. To make a long story slightly less long and tedious, we'll just say that we repeated this a few times, and he even hit his sister in frustration. I kept returning him to the same spot in the hallway, against the wall, and repeated to him, over and over, that I loved him but this wasn't acceptable behavior. We weren't going anywhere, and we weren't playing any games. Eventually I had to hold him in my lap, until the beast within was finally, and inexplicably, soothed, and he became repentant. Without prompting, he hugged and kissed Scarlett and told her he was sorry. He stopped fighting and he became obedient.

But I would be lying if I said this wasn't embarrassing, if I didn't have to fight the temptation to discipline him in a public way so that any observers would know that I wasn't going to take this kind of thing, that it was an aberration, that I was in control. It reminded me, though, of conversations my friends in our playgroup in SC used to have, about the difference between being "in control" as a parent and being "in charge." We used to talk about how the desire to control kids, or at least to appear in control, often causes parents to make parenting choices that are ineffective and sometimes even quite bad. But of course we also talked about how it is important for parents to be in charge. Leadership and limits are important in the family dynamic.

I didn't do everything right in the scene I just described. I'm certainly not touting myself as a parenting expert here. I will say, though, that overcoming the temptation to try to be in control was helpful today. Being "in control" means I get to do whatever I want, and everyone else does what I want no matter what. Being in control in this situation would have meant Chase and Scarlett would have gone to their respective child care rooms, regardless of their feelings. It would have meant that even if they hadn't, everyone would have known that I was the parent and Chase was going to do what I said (right now, mister!). Being in control would mean breaking Chase's will, and probably reducing him to tears. Being in control would mean that I would not be inconvenienced or embarrassed - I would never lose face as a parent.

That, however, would have just been an illusion, because the fact was that I wasn't much in control of things. Chase had me cornered, and he knew it. I was severely limited in how I could handle things, and it was only the fact that I'm still bigger and faster (and stronger, but only by little!) that I managed to get him where I needed him. But I did need to take charge, and I was firm about setting and enforcing the limits when it came to his behavior. Taking charge also meant acknowledging that it was silly to have worn the tallest heels I own to church this morning, when I had to deal with everyone and everything on my own, and that letting Chase have a chocolate doughnut in between services was not a good idea. It meant that I had to let go of worrying about appearances, get down on the floor with him, and hold him until there was both repentance and reconciliation - even if it meant people watching might not have understood. Maybe they thought he I was letting him get away with what had happened. Maybe they would think I wasn't being a very good mother.

Being in control - or having that illusion as a parent - is about appearances. Being in charge is about being accountable as a parent. It's about understanding love (and that love includes limits and consequences), and about cultivating relationships. And today, it also meant knowing when to cry uncle. Sitting there on the floor of the hallway, I realized that I had two tired and hungry kids. I was still wearing those dumb heels which were at that point really beginning to pinch. We had been at church for a couple hours already, and it was time to go, so we got the other kids out a little early and came home for some lunch and quiet time.

Humble pie for dessert.

"No Fair!"

In my humble and biased opinion, I have more than one good-looking child, and here's another of them. He has his own little quirks, some of which we understand and some, like in the picture to the left, are beyond our comprehension. He's not as wild as his younger brother, but there's certainly no mistaking the fact that he's about a million percent "boy." (My math-minded friends will hopefully excuse my shameless disregard for real math concepts.) He's also loving and helpful, when he wants to be, and can be extremely thoughtful and diligent in what he sets his mind to do.

But poor kid, if there was such a thing as luck, his would be of the decidedly bad variety. If there's something to trip over, he'll do it. If all the kids get a new toy, sure enough, his will be the one to break. If it can be lost, he'll loose it - forever. Point in case - for his birthday he got a nifty Lego set, and the very next day, he came to me saying (in something closer to a wail, actually) that he couldn't find the figures that went with it. "I'm sure we'll find it, Ryan," I insisted, but after looking in every possible location we could think of - under the couch and under the beds, in every nook and cranny that came to mind, even in the trash cans - I finally had to agree with him that it seemed he was the first person ever to really and truly have something disappear into thin air.

So perhaps it's this tendency that's led to his adoption of a new motto, or perhaps, as Dave insists from time to time, it's being "neglected" as a middle child - which I also insist is not remotely true. In any case, a new motto he has, and it's "No fair!" I can't count how many times a day we hear this, and frankly, I don't really have a solution for it, even though it distresses me to see him so distressed over the perceived injustices of life. Some may be real, and I do my best to help him through those, others... He's always had a bit of a tendency to ask the questions that will get a "no" answer. I've wondered if he does this on purpose, if it's some kind of twisted game mean to drive me out of my mind. When he was younger, he would wake up asking if he could have cookies for breakfast. What about popsicles? Ice cream? ANYTHING AT ALL THAT'S NOT A BREAKFAST FOOD???!!! PLEASE??? One way I got around this was to make him juice popsicles in ice cube trays, just so I could finally say, "Yes, you CAN have popsicles for breakfast!" and that seemed to help a bit. He also seemed to grow out of his intense need for whatever he didn't have, but he seems to have regressed a bit. It doesn't matter what he has or does, it's always the thing he doesn't have or isn't doing that he absolutely must have, and somehow I come across as the kill-joy. This morning he woke up with bounce-off-the-wall energy, asking for breakfast, and I rolled out of bed bleary-eyed and make pancakes with him first thing. His mouth still crammed with pancake, he asked if he could ride his bike on our cul-de-sac, to which request I said yes. Then he wanted his new shoes which were still in the car, and said yes, he could get them. But could he go see if his friends around the corner could play? No, it's too early. Could he watch TV? No, the remote downstairs wasn't working, and people upstairs were still sleeping. Could he, could he, could he....???? and he started to dissolve into unhappiness. "It's no fair!" I sighed and wondered if a little perspective about the good things he did get to do so far was too much to ask. Judging from his reaction, I gathered it was.


Add his siblings and "no fair" is almost like a reflex.

"He gets a bigger piece than me? No fair!"

"He gets the blue plate? No fair!"

"You gave him his drink first [a whole millisecond before mine]? No fair!"

"Why does he get to go over to a friend's house and I don't? No fair!"

"He'll get to do two fun things and I'll only get to do one? [Ryan keeps a record of these kinds of things.] No fair!"

Last night he walked into my room, where Drew and I were, and he said, "So what is HE getting to do NOW that's NOT FAIR?"

Talks about things gratitude and enjoying the things you have without worrying about everyone else are completely lost on him. He also seems to not hear me when I remind him of the time a couple weeks ago when he went with me to run some errands, and we had lunch out together, something no one else got to do. ("So see? Sometimes you get to do things they don't, and sometimes they do things you don't, but it's ok!" Nope. "But it's" - you guessed it - "no fair!") When last night Aimee went over to a friend's house to spend the night, he launched into yet another "no fair" session. "What?! She gets to go over to Hope's house and watch a movie and have fun? And all we get to do is be BORED and go to bed? No fair!" (Incidentally, I had never said this was the plan...) I tried a couple of different tactics here, including asking him if he really wanted to do exactly the same things as Aimee was going to do. Did he really want to have a night of giggling and playing Barbies? (Shh - don't tell Aimee I let it slip that she still does these things!) But he was determined that he was getting cheated somehow. Finally I just asked him what he thought would make the night "fair." He sniffed and said, "If we got to watch a movie, too." Easy enough. Let's do it. FAIR! So maybe there's a solution to some of these times - maybe getting him to express himself and form reasonable requests will help a bit. But there's also probably just the reality that learning to deal with life means learning to deal with things that aren't "fair." Then again, maybe it's also true that the ability to see injustice - everywhere and in everything - means that one day he'll be able to see injustice in the lives of others, and he'll have a heart for seeking to correct those things.

Whatever the case, it may drive me crazy right now, but I think he'll grow out of it...and he's still awfully cute! Shh - don't tell him that! He likes to think he's too old for that kind of thing.

The "Devil Angel" :-)

"He's such a beautiful kid," a friend at the park observed recently, and it's not the first time someone has noted the striking good looks of our fourth child. And if I do say so myself, he is, in fact, just a gorgeous child, in all his blond-haired, blue eyed, golden-skinned, long-lashed glory. Positively angelic. In the metaphoric sense understood by popular thinking, of course, not in the actual sense of drop-to-ones-knee in-fear-and awe before a majestic heavenly being.

The latter sense may actually be more accurate in his case, however. My mother, in a very nice way, once remarked in amazement that he's like a "devil angel." So sweet to look at, and sometimes so absolutely charming...and other times just as devilish as you can imagine (and more!). The day I originally came up with this post, he had, among other things, emptied his drawers of all his clothes, thrown paper all over his room (and then cut much of it up into pieces), bit Scarlett for no apparent reason, put chocolate chips in our coin jar (after stealing the chocolate chips in the first place, and eating a fair number first), raided his older sister's room, and taken off on his bike around the corner to the neighbor's house without my knowledge (thankfully I generally know where to look for him when he can't be found, and this is one of the likely places). That was all in the morning. Other favorite activities are painting the walls (every once in awhile I come across a work of art previously undiscovered), locking all the bathroom doors (he thinks it's very funny when one of his siblings really has to go), and playing with the hose in the backyard - and just try to go get it from him! He also likes to wake Scarlett up from her naps, and when I go in to discover this, he looks at me with those huge blue eyes and insists it wasn't his fault. "Maybe she scratched herself," he'll offer, and plant an enormous and enthusiastic kiss on her cheek, which she accepts delightedly, because despite his wont for mayhem, he can also be most charming. To Scarlett he is (usually) exceptionally attentive and sweet. Even with his other siblings, he can be a terror, then suddenly turn around and do something thoughtful and kind. (Still, they've learned it's best to step lightly around Chase and not make him angry!) He likes to help, and in fact making sure he has meaningful jobs to do is one way of keeping him out of trouble, and when he wants to be, he can be incredibly loving. He likes to do things for other people, and in fact, recently, he put concerted effort and thought into drawing pictures for some relatives. For my grandmother, for example, he drew a very nice tiger - finished off with violent red scrawls to indicate that "he's being attacked. Make sure you write that, Mom."

He's wild and unpredictable. He's loud - so very, very loud. He's a daredevil. He pushes every last limit and boundary we set for him. Nothing about parenting Chase is easy. But yes, he's also just so awfully handsome, and one of his beaming smiles, especially with the way his eyes crinkle into those adorable half-moons, is worth it all.

Finishing What You Start

Once when my sisters and I were young and being homeschooled, my mom started to read us a fairy tale called The Red Shoes. This, I think, was our first taste of the truth that the orginal versions of fairy tales are certainly not for the faint of heart. We read about the girl whose vanity led her to be forced (by an angel, no less) to dance continually in a pair of red shoes, and we paled in horror when she had an excutioner cut off her feet, in an attempt to escape her punishment. Alas, her feet just kept dancing away, and did so in front of her. My mom said, "This is awful...but we started it, and we should finish." And so we did, all the way to the end, where the girl is at last granted mercy, and her heart bursts with joy and gratitude. No, literally. Her heart bursts, and she dies. So there, vain children everywhere...beware!

Every once in awhile, we like to tease my Mom about this, asking her if she remembers The Red Shoes, because she always says, "I'm so sorry! I don't know why I thought we just needed to finish that!" Don't worry, Mom, none of us suffered any lasting damage, and finishing what you start is a good principle. But I think there can be exceptions, and The Red Shoes probably was one. More recently, the kids and I started Incident on Hawk's Hill, which sounded like it would be a pretty interesting story, based on true events, about a boy who is lost on the Canadian prarie for two or three months and is cared for by a badger. We made it about halfway through, when one night I skimmed ahead a bit to see if it would get...let's put this politely... slightly more exciting. Thus far it had been alternating between the badger's backstory and the boy's, and at the end of each chapter, I had been saying, "I think they'll meet in the next chapter! Won't that be interesting?" trying to pump up the non-existent enthusiasm of my listeners. So upon reading further after the kids had gone to bed that particular night, I discovered that the boy and the badger finally did meet, and that it really was fascinating how the badger provided for the boy. However, I should have thought about how that would happen, because the boy's fare under the badgers provision consisted of raw meat and eggs..in fairly graphic detail.

So I decided then that while usually it's best to start what you finish, but sometimes it's not a bad idea just to summarize. The next day I told the kids that hooray! - not only did the book have a happy ending, which I briefly outlined for them, but that we didn't have to read it anymore. They were finally excited!

Social Butterflies...and The Eggs from Which They Didn't Hatch

My friend Lisa recently posted on the oft-discussed topic of socialization. It seems so odd to me that this is still an issue for people, but I can attest that it's a question still asked of homeschoolers. And it's been answered by more than one generation of homeschoolers by now. It's not a problem! Yes, there are some socially awkward homeschoolers, just as there are plenty of socially awkward people from all kinds of educational backgrounds, but for the most part, homeschoolers don't have any trouble interacting with society. I was in a group once in which someone gave their opinion that homeschooling was great for some children, but absolutely wrong for others. The example she gave to back this up was of a bright and friendly student whose parents decided to homeschool her, but when the woman saw her again a year later (on one occasion) she was withdrawn. Ipso facto, homeschooling causes social butterflies to wither away, right?

So as my friend noted, children in homeschool families can in fact still be very social, and I can back her up on that. Unless they're holed up in the house 24/7 (which would be virtually no mother's choice, I can assure you), those social butterflies find people to engage in conversation. That has never worried me, nor does it surprise me now. What does sometimes amaze me - in a reassuring sort of way- is the way kids' personalities are such strong forces all the way around that they shine through even when they're mothered and taught by someone with a very different sort of personality. I used to worry a little that my more reserved (and some might say, almost reclusive) personality would affect my children's social life. I've worried at times that my fears and inhibitions would transfer to my kids. I definitely didn't know what would come of suffering from a severe anxiety episode and (diagnosed after the fact) postpartum depression for the entire first year, and more, of my fourth child's life. While I know that stress can affect the whole family, it's been a relief to realize that my children are their own souls entirely. Their personalities are amazingly resilient, and I've loved watching them blossom as unique individuals.

I am decidedly introverted, confrontation-shy, and non thrill-seeking. I've come to embrace those things as just who I am, instead of apologizing for them. By the way, world of extroverts, it's so unfair to keep telling those introverts to be something they're not. They can't "lighten up" or just "have more fun." They don't want to! They thrive in different ways, and that's ok. At the same time, it delights me that my oldest daughter, who is like me in many ways, is just the opposite as far as the traits I described. She likes being around people, even if she doesn't know them all. When she had an issue with a couple of her friends not too long ago, and just talked to them frankly but kindly (I think) about it, she was positively inspiring. She went to King's Island yesterday and rode every just about single jaw-dropping, turn-upside down in every-which-way kind of ride they had. Drew is quieter (and shares my feelings about roller coasters), but has the neatest ability to strike up a conversation with anyone, anywhere. And tell them everything about just about everything. There isn't a shy or inhibited bone in his body, I think. At the fourth of July parade, he began talking easily with the couple next to us, who had two dogs with them. He talked with them almost the whole time we were there, about all kinds of things. One of the dogs was a therapy dog, so he started telling them everything he knew about how petting dogs can relieve stress. The man was some kind of scientist, which led Drew to mention that hydrogen was lighter than helium, and he and the man talked about the Zeppelin for a while. I have no idea how he knew either one of those facts...or how talking with complete strangers comes so naturally to him. Ryan and Chase, for that matter, are no less at ease talking with anyone they come across, grown-ups and children alike. And Chase, for the record, emerged from that first year of his life unscathed. When I was pregnant with Scarlett, my midwife would often shake her head and laugh when she saw him, saying that she didn't think he would ever have any psychological hang-ups. From his emotions to feats of daring, he holds nothing back, and he shows no signs of having absorbed any of that anxiety I experienced when he was a baby.

I guess it's possible to alter a child's personality, to warp or stunt it, but I think that's very hard. I think it would involve much, much more than just being a different kind of person as their parent, or even being that person and keeping them home. In fact, with no offense to anyone who uses brick-and-mortar type of schools, it seems to me it would be harder to give children opportunities to let those personalities develop in such a one-size-fits-all environment, with interactions limited to a select few adults, and only a group of peers. So perhaps the socialization question is more of an issue for those families than for us (and I know there are families who do it well, so that's not a criticism). We get to watch our kids interact with us, each other, and all aspects of the great big world day to day, and we get to see them do it in ways we couldn't have planned or imagined. We celebrate each different facet of each personality, sometimes relating to a particular facet, and sometimes marvelling at uniqueness. Sometimes we know what to expect, but most of the time we're just hanging on for the ride!

A Day of Rest. Sort of.

First, three things:

1. Saturday is still the Sabbath, not Sunday.

2. We do traditionally observe a day of rest on Sunday, not because of the Law (as per point #1, the true Sabbath would still be Saturday, anyway) but to observe the Lord's Day (although obviously, all days are his), and "anyone who enters God's rest also rests from his own work, just as God did from his." (Hebrews 4 10). We don't follow any strict or particular rules about this day - we just set it aside in a general way.

3. Whatever the case, it's just really nice to have a day to rest and relax, to recharge for the week ahead.

Now just to get the kids on board. Have you ever noticed that kids don't "relax" well? It's taken us some time and many a frustrating Sunday to understand this fully and to relinquish the idea of a completely "do-nothing" sort of day. In the first place, they still need to be fed and cared for, and obviously the younger they are, the more of this needs to be done. Second, they still generate the same amount of mess on a Sunday as they do on any other day of the week, and the mess generated by a houseful of children (especially boys) is like a living thing - if you don't keep up with it, it will rise up and devour you. Try sitting around all Sunday and leaving it to its own devices. It gets very, very ugly. Third, kids seem to interpret "doing nothing" as boredom, and bored kids don't do much towards a peaceful day. In fact, a Sunday in which church only fills the morning (i.e. no evening services of any kind) can get rather long, leaving the parents of five young children more tired than when they started the weekend and maybe even eager for Monday. So over time we've finally figured out that a "day of rest" has to mean something a little different than...well, than an actual day of rest. This past Sunday we had some success in navigating through the day and turning it into a peacful day, if not one of complete relaxation. (Ahhh...maybe one day!) Here's what we did:

We went to church, including Sunday School, in the morning. I probably embarrased Dave by nursing Scarlett during our first time at the class for our age (which we fit into technically, but the jury is still out on whether we still count as "young marrieds" when we can't even remember what life was like when it was just the two of us!). At least I kept her from doing the nursing gymanstics that are her wont these days! At any rate, we went to the service after that, but I left with Scarlett even before the singing was over when she starting getting fussy, and while I was with her in the nursery, I saw Dave walk by with Chase, who was in a funk that started when Ryan wasn't allowed to go into his class with him that morning (he usually is). We didn't blame Chase for being upset, and even if we had, there's little one can do with him when he's angry and feeling uncooperative. Scarlett and I joined them in the hall, where Dave offered to watch both kids so that I could sit in the service. A few minutes later, I thought I heard Scarlett crying, and then Chase came through the double doors, whispering loudly, "Mom, Scarlett needs you! She has a dirty diaper!" After I went out and took care of that, the four of us were sitting in the hallway, and I suggested we just call it a morning at that point, so we gathered the rest of the kids and went home a little early.

We had lunch, and Scarlett settled down for a short nap, then Dave took the boys to the Y to swim. This sounds easy enough, but it was preceded by about an hour of, "Get your bathing suits," "I can't FIND my bathing suit!" "Where are the towels? Do we have any clean towels in the house at all?"...until they finally made it, and enjoyed about an hour there. Scarlett woke up just before they left, but we still had a girls' quiet time at home. We played a little, and made some homemade granola bars for an afternoon snack (subsituting peanut butter for the honey, and adding chocolate chips). When the boys got home, we all went out to the backyard, where Scarlett enjoyed a dip in her kiddie pool, I sat down with a book (which I hastily put away in a safe place after Chase dumped a bucket of water in my lap!), and Dave and the other kids played corn hole on the set Dave made. (This also sounds easy enough, but with a fiercely competitive oldest child, a second child who does his best to hold his own, and two younger boys who like to play by their own rules, this can get interesting. And sometimes loud.) Afterwards, we moved back inside, where Dave and the kids watched some baseball, and Scarlett and I entertained ourselves in various ways until it was time for dinner. After dinner clean-up we decided to go for a bike ride. Upon arriving home and realizing it wasn't too far from bedtime, Dave and I congratulated ourselves for having survived another Sunday, and all in a relatively pleasant way.

So what do you do to make your Sunday a good one?

Going Against the Flow...As Usual!

So let's get controversial today! Just for fun.

We have almost always struggled with the idea of age-segregated worship in church (or, for that matter, strict age segregation anywhere), and it's been on my mind even more recently. A few weeks ago, I watched Divided, a documentary on the subject that is decidedly anti- age segregation. Now, I will say that I think I'm not convinced that age-segregation is the cause of kids abandoning the church and the faith, but I think it runs parallel to the problem and is a reflection of what's going on. I'm also not (yet) convinced enough to make a decision on churches based solely on how they view this issue. Even the fact that I lean heavily toward the family integration side doesn't mean that I believe in throwing the baby out with the bathwater, so to speak, and getting rid of all children's and youth programs. I think kids do enjoy spending some time with their peers, doing activities as an age group, and that's probably true the older they are.

But occasionally the issue resurfaces to the forefront of my thinking, and these are the problems with which I grapple:

1. It seems that the first thing age segregation does is to began to tug at family relationships and roles, causing uncertainty and, ultimately, division. Once a program is in place for children and youth, it's decidedly more convenient if everyone goes where they're supposed to go. If there's a relationship, for instance, in which a baby or young child is not ready to be separated from the mother, this is a problem for the system. The mother feels uncomfortable taking the baby along with her, or in going along with the baby, and people in either situation are not quite sure what to do with the pair. Purely hypothetical scenario, of course... As children get older, the system tends to subtly usurp some parental roles and responsibility, rather than to focus on assisting the whole family spiritually.

2. Age segregation doesn't take into account anything but age. It doesn't take into account maturity levels, siblings and other family dynamics, or anything but...age! Since homeschooling generally relies more heavily on those other factors, rather than age, this puts us slightly against the flow. (So what's new?!)

3. Age segregation, along with segregating by life stages or any similar grouping, can perpetuate the generation gap(s). How can we learn from each other, if we're never together?

But, even as I say this, I don't have the solution. And just because I have these concerns doesn't mean I'm for or against any side (although, again, I have strong leanings in particular areas). So, simply for the sake of good discussion, of gleaning good ideas and encouragement from both sides of the topic, I'm curious to hear respectful and carefully phrased thoughts on this subject. Any takers?

It's All Good. Still.

When I've been pregnant with each of my children, we've speculated about what they were going to look like. After four blond-haired, blue-eyed children, each with a stamp of dominant family genes that marks them unmistakeably as siblings, we laughed when this question came up the fifth time. We thought it was pretty obvious what she was going to look like - but then she was born, and some of her physical characteristics took us a bit by surprise, and, in fact, even concerned her doctors to some degree. Then it became apparent that she wasn't even going to be a blond-haired, blue-eyed Meester baby, but a brown-haired, brown-eyed one. She was different than the baby I expected...and in the course of her first year, I realized that I loved her not only despite of those differences, but actually for everything she is and for the way God made her. In March I posted about my journey towards that realization.

In that post, I explained that when she was seven months old, she was tested for a particular condition that might explain some of her differences. We had come to terms with the idea that she probably had it, and that it was really ok, that it didn't matter as far as our love and acceptance of her. And then it turned out that she didn't have it after all, which was cause for celebration for us. Still, in the back of my mind, there lingered questions about why she might have some characteristics that were so different that what I had seen in my other children. And as she grew, and in fact grew in a completely different pattern than the others had, those questions persisted. Still faced with a collection of these things, along with her very petite size, we agreed with her pediatrician that perhaps we should do a more thorough test that might be able to find even the smallest abnormalities. We had the blood drawn last month, and I waited for the results with little anxiety, but still with a feeling that there would be something, even if it was just a slight deviation.

When the results came in, they showed that at least as far as her chromosomes go, she is completely normal!

I admit that even in my happiness, I was a little surprised, because that means I am left with still not knowing why she has some traits that are so different from her siblings. But more importantly, I am left with a smart, happy, and loving brown-eyed beauty, and as I process these latest results, I just have to smile and accept, hopefully towards the betterment of my mothering, that I won't always be able to understand everything about my children, and that they may deviate from - and exceed - my expectations.

Aimee, for instance, is taller and longer-limbed than I was at her age. She is also fearless and spirited. She loves rollercoasters...and I don't know where that came from!

Drew has a math mind, which certainly didn't come from me! He likes facts and trivia, and aways surprises me with what's going on in his mind. The possibilities for his future intrigue me.

Ryan likes details, and he likes to collect (i.e. hoard!) all kinds of things that I often think aren't worth much...but he has sensitivities and insights that amaze me.

Chase - who, by the way, has two webbed toes on each foot, and who knows which distant ancestor he inherited that from! - is a fascinating, infuriating, exciting, and exhausting mix of a mischeivous daredevil with a charming soft heart. I never know what's around the corner for him, even from day to day!

And Scarlett. Scarlett, who is so much smaller than my other four kids, and who is built a little differently in some ways. Scarlett who gives us such joy each day that it makes my heart ache sometimes. Scarlett who loves life, and only knows that she's happy to live it, not that there might be things about herself and her life that perhaps can't be explained. Perhaps they'll create challenges for her...but perhaps they won't. Maybe as she grows they'll become less of an issue. And even if they don't, it's quite likely she'll surprise me with how she'll deal with them.

She's not me, after all. She's not simply the product of my expectations, and none of my kids are. It's always fun to see things in them that I know came from me, that I can understand. But it's also amazing, stretching, deepening, to see those things that I can only say come from Him, and for reasons only He knows at present. It's humbling to give my kids to Him - over and over - and to trust Him for their future, and to thank Him for who they are, and everything they are, in the here and now.

Science, Spelling, and the Odds and Ends!

Science
For Science, we just began using the God's Design series from Answers in Genesis last year, and I really like it. It follows the same four year-cycle as recommended by The Well-Trained Mind, so last year (our ancient history year), we did God's Design for Life, and we're still finishing that up, since I refuse to leave things unfinished just because we're moving up a grade. We have plenty of time to "catch up," if we need to. The series includes fun worksheets and activities, and less fun tests (but Aimee, again, likes this kind of thing, so I have her do them, even if just in open-book style). Most recently, we studied the blood, and we did the recommended activity in which we made "sample" blood. It served its purpose remarkably well, since the kids still talk about it, and remember all the parts of the blood. Still, though, science isn't a consistent thing here. I try to do it about twice a week, but if things get busy, it's one of the first things to go. But at this point in the kids' education, I'm not too worried about formal science study. I think that at this point, they get plenty of what they need to know from observation of the world around them and from the extensive reading they do.

Spelling

We use the Spelling Workout series, and Aimee, being the workbook kind of girl she is, just goes through the books at her leisure (and since it's less demanding than any other subject, it's one of the first things she'll pick if she gets a chance!). She does formal "spelling" about four days a week, for around 15 minutes a day. I have no complaints about her spelling in any of her writing, so I never give her tests. Because of Drew's aversion to workbooks, I can't just hand him the book . Usually I just call out the words from a list and have them spell them aloud, and if we get to a list in which the spelling rule proves a little tricky for him, I have him do one or two activities from that chapter. I've been blessed with good spellers so far, so spelling is not much of an issue here. I've noticed, too, that they've often been able to spell just a hair before they acquired fluent reading skills, and that's been true of Ryan as well. So during spelling bees, I also have him spell words that I know are in his range.

As for the "odds and ends," they range from the occasional the field trip to the co-op we'll be joining this fall. I'm excited about the latter, because it will give us regular interaction with local homeschoolers, and allow the kids to have some learning time away from me, which for certain of them seems important (and I don't take it personally!). Most of all, though, I don't think I could emphasize enough the fact that what we do here isn't just school done at home. For various reasons, public and private school classes are conducted in particular ways that don't have to translate into the homeschool setting. So if we have our impromptu spelling bees in the car on the way to a LLL meeting, spelling is done for the day (especially if we're so engrossed in what we're doing that I miss the exit and get to our destination 20 minutes late!). For that matter, if the kids are working on some side project concerning Star Wars or Percy Jackson, and I find papers ALL OVER THEIR ROOMS, with writing all over it in perfectly good spelling, I can skip certain spelling lessons altogether. I can do tests with those kids who like that kind of measuring stick, but I don't have to do "assessments" in math, because I'm assessing them as we go. And I don't have to worry if my eight year-old can't sit still. I know that eventually, he'll be able to sit. As we go through our day and learn the basic skills of respect, timeliness, and thoroughness in all kinds of areas, eventually, he'll be able to put that all together and apply it to whatever task is at hand, including tests in college. Or not. Maybe college isn't for him. But it doesn't matter - what I'm raising my kids for is not to do brilliantly in the best college, or to enter the workforce as a compliant worker. For the record, I think that if college is an option when they reach that age, they probably will go, and they'll do just fine, but I'm more concerned with living and learning in the moment with what God gave us, in the unique gifts he's given each personality.

Math, Music, Reading...

Math
For Math we continue our love-hate relationship with Saxon Math, and I simply adjust it for the needs of the child. Aimee is capable of doing things closest to the way they're "supposed" to be done, although I do allow her to do only half of the "mixed practice" (odd number problems one day, even the next). Otherwise math could take up a ridiculous amount of time. That's the case with the earlier Saxon courses, too. Math 1 makes me laugh sometimes, as if I'm actually going to have even one child call out the time on the hour, every hour, and then do a "meeting," then a fact sheet, then an entire lesson. So I do an extremely customized version of Saxon - which basically amounts to going though the workbooks. I hardly ever consult the teacher's manual anymore, except on occasion to make sure there isn't a skill we might have missed (there usually isn't). Ryan is finishing up Math 1, and Chase, by his own request, is beginning Math 1, and is doing it well. We don't make a big deal of it - he just asks to do a page when everyone else is doing math, and by jiminy, he does it! He likes to make a big to-do over it, though, sighing and exclaiming, "I'm just terrible at Math. Argh!", but ignoring me when I remind him that he doesn't actually have to do it. Very funny. But anyway, back to the higher grades - Aimee is finishing up Saxon 65, which she began last year, and Drew is about halfway through 54. 54, however, requires the student to copy the problems down on his own piece of paper before working through them, and that's just too much for the highly distractible person Drew is. He doesn't have any trouble with the math itself, but would never get it done if I handed him the book and told him to do a lesson. So I do most of it by reading it to him, and having him tell me the answers aloud (since I am far from a math person, it always impresses me that he can do it this way!), and when I do want him to work through problems, I give them to him on a separate piece of paper.

Music

Aimee, thanks to some 11th-hour negotiating, is continuing her piano study, still under my instructions, since we're still too poor to afford outside lessons. But given the chance and the resources, I'll take her somewhere in a heartbeat. She's reasonably talented, and I think she could flourish under someone else's tutelage. Drew is still doing violin, although his attention issues are sometimes a barrier to pleasant lessons and practice. And he needs a new violin, but, alas, this is also outside the budget at the moment. Ryan has asked to begin lessons, so when we can remember to do it, I give him a lesson. We also listen to music and talk about composers and instruments, all usually in an informal way.

Reading
Let's see...we do a lot of it! The kids go through their own "fun" reading choices, which are usually just fine in themselves, but sometimes I'll ask them to read a specific book I want to make sure they cover. If I want them to read something for history or science, all I usually have to do is put it in the library basket, and it gets read! Something I would like to work on this year is having them do more writing from our reading selections. We definitely don't always do the pages for the "reading notebook" they're supposed to be keeping, according to The Well-Trained Mind - in fact, we rarely do them,although I feel like they can write (or narrate) reasonably well when I do have a chance to ask them do it, so I think we're ok there. Also we seem to have one continuous book club going on in our house, where books are always being discussed, I have no doubts that they comprehend what they're reading and can articulate about it quiet well. Very well. Over and over. And over. And over. You get the point. For those who are just learning to read, we are working through The Phonics Museum from Veritas Press. It was a worthwhile investment, as Ryan is now the third person to have achieved reading skills through it, and Chase has just begun to work through it. I know Susan Wise-Bauer doesn't particularly like reading programs like this, and frankly, I don't think all the activities are necessary, but, rebel that I am, I still like it! I think it's quite clear by this point that I like following general guidelines, but follow almost nothing by the book!

The Lost Art of Communing

Once or twice a week, the kids go for the entire morning to a recreation program at a local park. It's fun. It's free. It's for all four older kids, who go and stay quite happily, playing games like Capture the Flag, and doing crafts. It's a no-brainer. Usually Scarlett and I enjoy the quiet at home, where she often takes a nap, and I spend a couple hours cleaning. At this point in my life, a couple hours of uninterrupted cleaning is like a gift, and I feel almost giddy with the peaceful freedom of it.

But it's still just cleaning.

I've thought about how I would like to just sit and enjoy a quiet cup of coffee instead, but every morning, there are dirty dishes staring at me, and umpteen loads of laundry calling my name, so I've never quite gotten around to spending one of these park mornings relaxing. Until today, that is, when a friend brought over her new baby, and no one had to twist my arm to leave the breakfast dishes in the dining room and just sit. We chatted. We laughed. I sighed over her sweet newborn boy as he nuzzled against her chest, or nursed contentedly, and she laughed as she watched my one year-old baby demonstrate her upside-down nursing skills, or babble and giggle. We shared funny stories and serious ones, commiserated with each other about motherhood, and communed as women.

I don't know about everyone else, but I hardly ever drop everything and spend two hours just visiting, just being. I suspect this is a lost art in the whole of our society, which is sad, because on a personal level, I wish it were more a part of my life. Today I found it restful for the body and refreshing for the soul, and I hope my friend heeds an open invitation to bring herself and her darling baby over anytime she likes!

Grammar, History, and Latin

Grammar

Since I've already posted recently about how we typically do grammar, I won't dwell too much on it now. Drew and Ryan are both officially working their way through their respective levels of First Language Lessons, which I use mostly as a guide for what they should be studying at a given time. Aimee, who worked through the series in a more by-the-book way (which style she prefers), is now doing Rod and Staff's Following the Plan. She began level 5 late in our previous school year, so she's still finishing the book as we began this school year. I really love this grammar program, finding it very thorough and rather exacting. Aimee, of course, dislikes it for all the reasons I love it. But since I don't think it's at all too difficult for someone who reads on a 12th grade reading level (at least), and since it seems to jive with her learning style, I choose to overlook her objections - lovingly, of course. I think the only way she would enjoy grammar (or admit to enjoying it - frankly sometimes I wonder if some of our difficulties over this subject are all part of a grand charade, but that's another post entirely) is if it didn't exist as a subject at all. I, for one, like grammar, and have always liked things like diagramming. I do - so there!

History

We tend to build much of the rest of our learning around our history study, as it's one of our collective favorite subjects, and can encompass reading and writing (and therefore all the other language arts), art, and even things like science. For our history study, we use The Story of the World as our "spine," as well as The Kingfisher History Encyclopedia, and then, of course, we do all kinds of reading from whole books on whatever part of history we're studying. Now, I admit that when we first began going through The Story of the World, I was surprised that it was not based more strongly on a Christian perspective. Based on what I had thought I knew about its author, I would have expected some parts of it to be a little different. But that being said, I also know that if I try to find curriculum that lines up exactly with my convictions, I will have to look for a very long time. I could probably something that I might like better, but at this point, since I have all the books and activity books as well, I am (again - since I think this has come up before) too cheap to do a curriculum overhaul. So as I do with the rest of our books, I take what I can from what I have, and make whatever adjustments I see fit. That's also why I do a select few of the activities in the activity books, but snicker - nay, guffaw - when I see things like "Making a Sand-Cube Pyramid." Sand, glue...three boys...nope, not happening. So I use the activity book, as well as the Veritas Press and Sonlight catalogs, for reading suggestions and for other ideas that can help us in our history study. In the past few weeks, we've been doing a review of last year's study of ancient times, even doing some of the activities we didn't have a chance to do during our crazy year (except for the sand-cube pyramid!). This week we'll move on to the Middle Ages, which is what we'll be doing for the rest of the school year.

Latin (and other Languages)
"It is the parent or teacher who occasionally struggles with this course. But if you discipline your mind to master this material, then your child will master it also. If you do not have the discipline to really learn Latin, then your child will not have the example he needs" from Latina Christiana Book 1 Teacher's Manual (p. 71)

G U I L T

Here's the truth of the matter. Aimee knows more Latin then I do. I know I need to have some idea of what she's doing, but -perhaps unfairly - I do expect her to learn some vocabulary lists, when I know I don't have to memorize them all myself. And then sometimes when I realize that we haven't had covered something as thoroughly as we should have so that she can do a particular section of her workbook, I let her use the teacher's manual. My goal for the kids in their Latin studies is not for them to have a complete mastery of Latin (although they can pursue that if they wish), but just to have a basic understanding of it, as well as a boost for understanding vocabulary and language in general. Aimee is just wrapping up Latina Christiana 1 (we've been doing for some time, but have had to start and stop several times because of everything going on), and Drew is just beginning it this year. For Drew, though, I allow him do most of the workbook orally. At this point in his life I don't see a need to make his education long and tedious simply because he has a hard time focusing in front of pencil and paper. If he can tell me the answers out loud in 10 minutes, whereas it might take him an hour or more to get something done on paper, I almost always prefer it that way.

In the "other languages" category, we're all using Rosetta Stone Homeschool this year, and loving it. Aimee has wanted to learn Spanish for a long time, but I have some background in French, so this year I decided just to get both. Aimee is plowing away diligently at Spanish - she loves getting on the computer and going through the lessons at her own pace, and she's doing very well at it. Drew is learning French (and I'm going through it as well, to refresh my memory), and even the little boys occasionally get on and do a little of either language. We love, love, love this!

Art, Bible, and Cursive

You didn't ask for it, but I thought I would break down by subject what we're doing for school so far this year.

Art

I've listed Drawing with Children on our curriculum lists for the past few years, but that's usually a technicality. We often start on it, and love the results, but never make it past the first few chapters. With all due respect for Ms. Mona Brooks, I don't quite believe that just anyone can draw if they just have the right attitude, and therefore I don't believe just anyone can teach drawing. I don't know what she means sometimes when she refers to "One hour of instruction." What kind of instruction? Be more specific please!" When she is more specific, we do just fine, but as my kids have pointed out, we've drawn that darn lion about a million times now. We've been able to use some of her general techniques for drawing from graphics, but we tend to get frustrated and give up when we get to other chapters. I haven't given up on it completely, and I still officially include it in our curriculum, but this summer we started out with something else. I've also had How to Teach Art to Children for a few years, and we've done a few things from it, but have never worked through it as systematically as I hope to this year. So far it's been a fun and relatively easy way to say we've done art for the day, and the kids have had some neat results from some of their projects. One of the last ones they did dealt with shape, in which they used paper shapes to make a design on a piece of paper, and then they had to draw the design they made on another piece of paper. When we looked at some of the finished products, I told the boys their pictures looked - in a good way! - like something Picasso might have painted, so then we looked up that artist and his works in one of my favorite finds for the school year (and probably beyond): Art: 2, 500 Works from Cave to Contemporary. I bought it because it was recommended by Veritas Press, and while I'm a little surprised they didn't include a disclaimer about some of the artwork, I love this book, and I love that I found it for a really great price on Amazon.com. We've used it quite a bit already, often in conjunction with history, since it presents artists and their art in chronological fashion. All told, we do some form of "art" about 3 times a week. We probably won't be able to maintain that kind of frequency, but we're going to run with what works for as long as it does!

Ryan, by the way, did not take being compared with Picasso as a compliment. Oops.

Bible

This is the year I finally bought the Bible cards from Veritas Press, after having meant to for a long time, and I really love them. We've always done Bible stories and other Bible readings, but I've wanted to make sure we were getting a solid base of Biblical history and events, so I'm glad we're finally doing these. The set comes with a CD-ROM, which includes worksheets for each card, and some of the kids have enjoyed doing those, although I don't require them for everyone. The important thing is that two or three times a week, usually over dinner, we read a card, ask the review questions, and put it up on our dining room wall, which, along with alphabet cards and various artwork, is gradually starting to look like the dining room of the Cheaper by the Dozen family (the father of which taught his children Morse code by scribbling messages all over the dining room walls - a homeschooler at heart, if not in exact practice!). At any rate, we also try to read a Proverb a day, Bible stories at night, and I've also printed out various verses about loving one another in various locations around the house. Not very subtle, I know! I'm probably most excited, though, about the venture my older kids will likely get to experience this fall in Bible quizzing. There's not a good link for this, and it's hard to summarize, but suffice it to say that this year they will be learning large portions of Hebrews and 1 and 2 Peter (for my quizzing friends - it's not the whole thing, because they'll be doing junior quizzing), then meeting with other quizzers once a month for fun competition. I did it for three years as a high schooler (and I did Hebrews one year!), and it was truly one of the best things I ever did.

And one more...

Cursive

We use Classically Cursive, and Drew just began learning it at the end of last year. It's not his favorite subject by any means, so I keep his practice at it very short. Aimee does about 10-15 minutes a day, and I've begun to ask her to do at least some of her writing for other subjects in cursive. I've seen and heard from various sources about how cursive is considered obsolete in some areas and is no longer taught. Personally, although I'm not a stickler for perfect handwriting, I think it's still a good discipline and will continue to insist on it. (I do, of course, also see the need for developing good typing and computer skills, so try to maintain a balance.) I'm curious to hear the thoughts of my fellow homeschoolers on this one, so what's your stance on the subject?