School's Out!

It's been ages! It isn't as though there hasn't been plenty to write about - life has been full and colorful, as always. So I don't really have any good excuses. And now that we're on break from that which we call "school," I have no excuses. Today, for instance, I started to say, "Okay, maybe we should go..." and then I paused to consider the relative silence and the absolute harmony in the house. The older boys were (and still are) upstairs playing with their new Lego sets - together, and happily - and Chase and Scarlett were playing together. Why should we break this up to go anywhere? Errands can wait.

So here I am just sitting, and able to write. My foremost thought is that while this "break" affords me some time to do just that, our break isn't all that much different from life when school is "on." In fact, when I was putting one of the boys to bed last night, I mentioned something about no school today, and he said, "Really? Cool!", and I replied, "Yes. We didn't have any school last week, either. You didn't notice?" And no, he didn't. "No school" pretty much just means I won't ask anyone to write a paper or do some grammar copywork. In the meantime, they're still reading (reading, reading, reading), listening to books on CD,  building with Legos, drawing inventions, playing card games and board games, doing puzzles, going to the library, exploring nature, baking and cooking with me...and rejoicing about how they don't have any "school." It's really quite amusing.

Now, in a couple more weeks, the lack of even the little bit of structure we call "school" will be evident, and I'll have to rein things back in a little. But for now, we just...enjoy life and happily anticipate Christmas.

And the release of Les Miserables, about which I am really, really excited!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EkHHHUk8RCw

Thoughts on Discipline, Part 2

I explained much of our general discipline philosophy in my last post. Now - what does it look like in practice?

I think anyone who shares the same kind of philosophy (and yes, I'm thinking of YOU, you-know-who-you-are!) would agree that to half the people observing us it seems like we do too much, and to the other half, like we're not doing nearly enough. Because we're believers, we do know that we have a God-given authority, and that we have to teach and train these little helions children because God instructs us to do so. But because we don't use many punitive tactics, we break with what seems like the majority of Christian parenting philosophies in how carry that out. I don't mean to be judgmental of anyone here, or to sound superior. I admit that I am not really a great disciplinarian. I probably am a bit of a pushover, even in my small circle of like-minded parents. So I'm not at all saying that I'm excelling where most everyone else is failing. I'm just describing some of our philosophy and why we stick with it. Is your parenting philosophy built  on a thoughtful interpretation of God's Word? Then great. I would only encourage you to look within your heart, examine your motives, and be sure that it really is based on His Word, and not on just popular belief. 

Anyway, this is basically how it works for us:

We believe the kids are people, just as we are. Sure, they have the same propensity for sin as we do, but just as we wouldn't want someone to believe of us that we are, at heart, manipulative and bent for trouble, we don't believe that of them. We believe they have valid feelings, thoughts, and ideas - immature ones, yes, but valid nonetheless. 

We believe that one of the best ways to help them behave well is to make it as easy as possible for them to do so. Practice makes perfect. So we believe it's our job to be fair, to listen to them and be considerate of them, to take their individual personalities into account, and to make sure they feel good overall - because that makes it easier to  be the best you can be. How do YOU behave when you're tired or hungry? How do YOU respond to being told what to do all the time, without your input ever being acknowledged? How would you respond if you were corrected or criticized all the time? Would you ever get tired of being told that you're a "troublemaker" or "a handful" all the time? (It's terrible to hear parents angrily criticizing their children, but it's almost just as bad to fill your child's lighthearted jabs about how much trouble they are.)

In the same vein, we believe helping them grow, but also in letting them be their age. My two year old cannot be expected to understand much of delayed gratification. She only lives in each moment, and that is entirely appropriate for her age. That doesn't mean giving her whatever she wants, of course, but it means that if she throws a fit on the floor, making her feel better is of infinitely more worth than trying to punish her. As soon as she lets me, I pick her up and hold her. Even better, I nurse her, and everything is better. Calming her emotions for her is perfectly okay. She's only two. It means knowing that my five year-old wants to throw things when he gets angry. That doesn't mean he's going to be an ax murderer unless I do something drastic. It just means he's five, and he still needs lots of help learning how to be angry without hurting people. My seven year old and ten year old boys are...well, they're seven and ten year old boys. I don't expect them to sit still for very long stretches or to have perfect table manners. Even they still need help calming the beast within (but already...not as much help as when they were two and five!). And my 12 year-old is navigating those bizarre waters we all remember from that age. I expect more from her, but still, she's only 12. There have been times when she's told me "No," and while sometimes that riles me up, I generally try not to take that personally. Instead of grounding her, I challenge her to think it through. "You're not going to take a walk with us? Let's think that through. How do you think this is going to end?" There's not much reasoning with a two -year old. That's okay. But there should be lots of reasoning and the prompting of logical thinking with a twelve year-old, and that's okay, too. 

So we do a lot of talking things out. And sometimes we talk and talk and talk. Sometimes tempers flare, sometimes she says things that could be construed as wildly disrespectful, but I would rather flesh all this out together, where I can help her learn the boundaries, learn to be rational, learn to forgive and be forgiven. I'm okay with that. I would rather any of the kids push the boundaries HERE than elsewhere. This should be a safe place to get rid of all the junk. Home is where they should learn how to deal with strong emotions and with personal struggles. If we squash it all the time, how will they do that? So we talk. We try to be the kind of people we want them to be. We try to help them see the reasons for things we ask them to do, rather than wield the "because I said so" sword all the time (sometimes it's necessary, I know, but we don't want to be dictators). If a lesson needs to be learned, we try to let it be through natural consequences as much as possible - and as close to natural as possible.

And here's what we don't do - we don't spank, as I explained in the previous post. We don't really "ground." And we don't really do "time-outs." Often someone needs a bit of space and time to cool off, so we do occasionally send kids who are old enough (the seven year-old and up - don't send an angry five year-old to his room to be alone, as I learned the hard way) upstairs to take a breather if they aren't able to control their anger or be reasonable. That's as much for their benefit as for ours. But here's my problem with time-outs: often it's for out-of-control behavior in young children. So if this immature little person is already out of control, how can you expect them to suddenly control those out of control emotions - only this time, in an even more restricted space? It's my opinion that what's being taught here is how to surpress those emotions so they can be free, rather than how to deal with those emotions constructively. And if it's not for out of control behavior...well, then what IS it doing? What are they supposed to think about? If they've truly made a sinful choice, how can repent by themselves? To me, that seems to be asking many things at once from a child, some of which they may not even be developmentally able to do. Andrew Paduwa said of learning that you can't help a child "too much", and I think that can apply to discipline as well. I think you can't help them too much when it comes to helping them be good.

Of course, that takes time. It may be that time-outs and spankings get quicker results (although I would just question if those are merely short-term results). And for heaven's sake, I'm not saying that people who use those strategies don't also invest time and energy in their children. I'm just saying that if you don't, as we don't, people will probably look askance at you and questions whether you are letting things slide. "If you don't take care of such-and-such now,.then they'll never...or you'll never...or they'll always..." But I've found, as in all things involved with raising children, if it starts with an "if-then" like that, it's an idea probably based on fear. Okay, it IS true that IF you don't teach them at all, THEN things will be bad for everyone involved. But beyond that, in the details, we don't want to be ruled by  many "if-then" fears. If I comfort my two year old because she's upset that I won't give her something, she won't continue to throw herself on the floor every time she gets emotional. She'll grow out of that on her own. But she'll also know love and mercy at the same time she's learning about boundaries. 

And that pretty much sums it up. Of course we believe in boundaries. But we believe we can show love, mercy, sympathy, and kindness as we teach those boundaries. We believe there is no such thing as helping them too much as we teach our children, that helping them get lots of practice in being good is better than daring them to be bad, then punishing them for it. We believe in removing temptations if we can, and helping them work through temptations that are unavoidable. We believe, most of all, in speaking to their hearts, because eventually they will have to make decisions on their own. They have to decide whether to follow God's Word or not, and we truly want it to be about following Him, rather than following a list of our do's and don't's. We're not really after getting well-behaved children. (gasp!) We're after growing people who will help "turn the world upside down." 

Thoughts on Discipline, Part 1

I was talking with someone recently about our discipline strategy. (Don’t worry, Someone – it was a good conversation!) Since it is always easier for me to write about something than to talk about it, I thought I would broach the topic again, and clarify some points we discussed, both for that Someone, and just in general.

The first thing that always seems to come up in a discussion about discipline is spanking. It’s a rather polarizing topic, although I’m not sure it always has to be. I know some people who believe in it wholeheartedly, as well as some people who believe it is always abuse. I’ll just say it – we don’t spank, and I do believe that it often IS abusive, but I also know good parents who practice it, and I just won’t go so far as to say it’s always abuse. I feel I can have my own opinion about spanking without making a sweeping judgment about all other opinions (although I realize that even just having a stance on a topic is almost a judgment in itself. I can’t help that). But here’s my take: I see the “rod” verses. I see how they could be interpreted several different ways. I could even see how they could be interpreted to be talking about a  literal rod. But I don’t see how an entire discipline strategy can be centered around those verses, and I certainly don’t see how the modern Christian spanking method could have been derived from them. “Spare the rod; hate the child” – what kind of rod? What kind of child? Are we really talking about physical punishment for every disobedient act (and if not, which ones)? Are we talking about toddlers here, too? Do you find that these verses translate into the routine corporal punishment of young children (never when you’re angry, only with the hand/never with the hand, only after a certain age but only up until a certain age, etc)? Okay, then. I freely admit I don’t have enough training in Biblical interpretation to make a definitive statement one way or the other, at least not for everyone. I mentioned before that while we don’t practice it, I would certainly refrain from saying that it is always abuse, and because I know good families who have used it in their discipline of their children – because I know they employ thoughtful instruction and grace in their discipline as well – I would never say of them that they are abusive. Perhaps there is truly a “right” way to spank, and perhaps they are doing that. But I will not hesitate to say that so often it IS abuse – and even good and well-meaning parents can be guilty of abusing their authority and hurting their children in an undeniably wrong way through spanking. In the interest of full disclosure, I’ll admit that we practiced spanking – albeit sporadically – with the older two children. Or we tried. I was never comfortable with it, and I found it almost impossible to know if I was following the “rules” correctly. Was I calm enough? Did I refrain from hurting too much, but did I hit hard enough to make a difference? Isn’t there something just not quite right about that question? And indeed, that’s what ultimately finished it for me. I had to think so hard about the correct way to punish, that I felt it was interfering with my job of really training my children and reaching their hearts.

And that I do know about what the Bible says about raising children. I do fully agree that we are to teach them, train them, instruct them, discipline them. I do agree that sometimes discipline is hard and the consequences unpleasant. I just don’t think that has to mean that I have to inflict physical pain. I also don’t think it means that it’s a battle between myself and my children, between my will and theirs. I don’t think it’s my job to “break their wills,” or even to make them obey. Ooh-hoo, I know of some raised eyebrows right now. Just hang on. I know it’s our job as parents to care for them and to teach them. I know that means that we have a certain amount of responsibility and authority , that we’re in charge. I know that part of teaching them God’s Word is teaching them what He says about proper respect for authority, and about how they are to obey their parents. But true respect and obedience are not things I can wrest from them by force – I think that’s something they have to do on their own, in obedience to God’s Word. There are many areas in which they do need to follow my instructions, that’s true, because most of the time, it’s a matter of their safety or of keeping order in a household and in society. But I think that means the onus is on me to be trustworthy and worthy of respect – and not just so that they know “who’s boss.” That means I don’t put a great emphasis on first-time obedience. And it means we don’t put much emphasis at all on punishment.

More raised eyebrows? Just hang on some more. I don’t mean we have a free-for-all at our house. It’s not complete chaos, where everyone does what they want. We teach them what God says about how to relate to other people, and we let them know that because we are in charge (but not in control of everyone, and I do think there’s a difference), we will run our household based on what he says about that. That starts, of course, with us being patient, kind, long-suffering, etc. We need to be just and merciful, gracious and grateful, considerate and humble. We need to forgive - and ask to be forgiven! I am absolutely not a believer in the idea that being a consistent parent means sticking to your guns whether you’re right or wrong. I remember once when Aimee was little she wanted to play a My Little Pony game on the computer. She had to wait until later in the day, for a reason I don’t remember, but at some point in the day, there was an incident in which she behaved inappropriately, and in frustration, I told her she wouldn’t be allowed to play the game. She exclaimed, “You just did that because you know I really want to play!” And she was right! I knew that would really “get” her, but I had never made good behavior a contingency of playing, and what she did was wrong, but in no way related to playing on the computer. So I took a deep breath and said, “You’re right. What you did wasn’t good, and we have to address that, but let’s back up and think of another way you can make that right. You can still play the game later.”

And making things right is something we stress, rather than punishment. If there is a way to repair or replace something, reconcile with someone, or put positive energy toward working off bad attitudes, we try to choose that way over doling out a punishment. We don’t believe that discipline is about sticking it to the kids, or even programming good behavior in them. We believe it’s about reaching their hearts.

Homeschooling is a Breeze...and Sometimes a Hurricane

I have talked to a few people recently who are on the fence about homeschooling. When it comes down to it, they generally want to know if it's easier than it seems, or as hard as they imagine, so I thought I would try to address that question. The answer, truthfully, is...both. And here are a few reasons why (my fellow homeschool moms can feel free to add their own thoughts):

Why it's Easier Than You Think:

1. It isn't - or shouldn't be - anything like bringing a classroom experience home. I am not a teacher by nature (no, really), and the thought of having to teach everything all day long, all while trying to keep just my energetic kids in their seats really does sound dreadful. A few moms I know DO enjoy teaching. They enjoy lesson plans and overseeing a structured sort of learning. That's perfectly fine, but it's absolutely not necessary for an enjoyable homeschooling experience. I know some other moms who don't do any kind of planning whatsoever, and that's great for them, too. I've read about some truly unschooling homeschoolers who have gone on to college and have done just fine. But I think most of us are somewhere in the middle - we have a master plan, but the learning experience goes best when it takes off by itself. It's almost a living thing, and it should be allowed to grow and thrive naturally. For us, that means lots of reading and lots (and lots) of play. It means that learning just happens all the time, and that the part we call "school" is pretty much just a check in to make sure things are progressing. And to do some things like grammar, which my kids wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole if I didn't drag them to it periodically kicking and screaming. Ahem.

2. You don't have to know everything and be able to teach it to homeschool. Most people I know are afraid they just couldn't possibly teach math, or whatever, and all those people should know that homeschool curriculum abounds. That's not even the right word for it. There's so much of it there's probably too much of it. But whether you're laid back and confident, or unsure of yourself and want everything spelled out (seriously, it's called a scripted lesson plan), it exists for you. There are even some courses that are taught by DVD, so you don't have to do much of anything at all, at least not more than you would already do in assisting a child with homework. A word of caution: there are several online options that are offered by the public schools. Certainly these could be used for good, but it seems that often when first-time homeschoolers try it, thinking it will be a good intermediate option until they are ready to step out on their own, the workload is so overwhelming that it makes homeschooling look like the hardest thing in the world. There's a lot of paperwork and time involved, and while that may have a place, it isn't what learning at home has to look like.

3.You ARE completely qualified to be your child's teacher. You already are! Don't assume there's a sudden switch at age 5 that renders your child beyond your ability to teach. There's nothing magical about school. It's an artificial learning environment, and, in my opinion, the best schools and the best teachers are the ones that replicate the kind of environment that a child would receive at home - a flexible, nurturing, personalized learning experience, where the child is freest to learn and to be. So if we think about it that way, you are the default. If you send your child to school, it should be because YOU have decided to outsource. So you don't really have to "decide" to homeschool - you have been doing it from birth. It really is that easy.

But, of course, just like parenting is a natural thing, and your are qualified to parent your own children, homeschooling can be incredibly hard.

Why It Sometimes IS the Hardest Thing in the World:

1. It's you. And only you. All the time. Of course, there are support groups and co-ops and homeschooling friends - all priceless resources. But when you're having a personality clash with a child, or struggling with how to provide motivation, or just wanting to take your little ones to the park and do not much of anything at all, you're the beginning and the end of the line. When you get to the end of your rope...you have to make the rope a little longer. I don't really like sharing this with parents interested in homeschooling, because it's like confirming their worst fears. But this doesn't have to be the game changer. Marriage can be hard. Caring for a newborn is hard. Life can be hard! But that doesn't mean it isn't worth it.

2. It's messy. You have to sacrifice a certain sense of order and having it all together. A good school day, at least with several kids in the house, means your house will probably look like a herd of buffalo stampeded through it. Sorry.

3. It's loud, and everyone is together (almost) all of the time. There are things you won't be able to do during the day, at least while your kids are young, that your non-homeschooling friends can do. And while you're home, the kids are always there, making a mess (see point #2) and a lot of noise. But again, is this a problem, or is this the norm? Somehow we've been convinced that it's a sacrifice, and just having that perspective makes it very hard to bear for some people. If you're going through your days, weeks, and months feeling like you're going above and beyond, giving way more than a parent is "supposed" to, then I'm sure homeschooling would in fact be too hard. But if you believe that you are supposed to be responsible for your child's education, that it is normal for a family to spend days (all day and every day) together, and that it's the deviations from that that are the real choices (in which you have to weight the pros and cons and consider the sacrifices involved), then the hardest thing in the world is the easiest, most natural thing in the world at the same time.

So I try to share the truth with those interested in homeschooling, from the joys down to the frustrations, but I encourage them to weigh all of it without fear.If you decide to send your children to school, don't let it be because you think you just can't teach your own children. There may be all kinds of valid reasons for a variety of education choices, but none of them should be based on fear. God gave you your children, and he wired them to learn. If you believe this, than you absolutely can be with them and teach them. And once you seize this conviction, this thing that is loud and messy and sometimes so very difficult is just your life, and a life you wouldn't trade for anything, because the reward is immeasurably great.

It Counts

It has become my general rule of thumb that unless the kids spend a large part of the day watching TV or playing on the Wii, the day "counts" as a school day. Of course there are things we want to get done throughout the year. Of course there are subjects we are required to cover, but often those can still be done without much direction from me. Did the boys spend all afternoon outside building forts, digging in the dirt, and re-enacting historical battles? History and science. Done. Did they spend the morning listening to books on CD and building with Legos? Math, science, language arts. Done. Did a child come to me with a drawing of a Lord of the Rings battle, complete with a caption that says "Lord of the Rings?" Art and spelling - done. So often seeing them live out what they are learning, or what they've already learned is worth far more than checking a subject off a list. If a child knows all about a certain subject, knows how to spell (for instance) at least according to his or her age level, and is actively participating in the learning process...IT COUNTS.

This isn't all that easy, actually, because it means constantly adjusting my expectations and plans. It means I have to take some deep breaths and not use the words "we're behind" about a subject just because the (spelling, science, history) book has been sitting in the corner gathering dust. I confess, in fact, that I spent most of last week feeling  overwhelmed with a sense of failure. It wasn't that the week wasn't productive, but the days flew by, and (yet another) week passed in which I didn't accomplish the "formal" schoolwork I had intended with the kids. I had frequent panic moments - "we're not doing enough writing!" "we need to memorize something!" "It's been ages since we did any Latin!" Ack! Behind, behind, behind.

Then we went camping over the weekend, and the kids spend hours in the woods, collecting leaves, and observing wildlife (even a snake!). Some of them worked hard to tend the fire. They hiked, ran, and played with a friend. They played with each other and talked with the adults who were there. Aimee took great pictures of the scenery, developing her photographer's eye, read, and wrote short stories (the one I read was very good!). And I remembered that this is why I never worry about counting days or hours. They might have to catalog the time like that in schools, but we don't. There is no checking in and out. There is no value system for the learning process - or, rather, if there is, it's probably that the real, organic, unhurried, and unprompted version is better than the scheduled, pencil and paper variety. (Duh, as the kids would say.). More on that later. The point is that IT COUNTS. Almost all of it COUNTS. I think this is what our parents (those of us who were homeschooled) were realizing when they drove us crazy (wink, wink, Mom - I'm just teasing) by turning everything into "school." My homeschool friends and I used to commiserate over the way our mothers would so often say things like, "Oh, this can be our history for the day!" I think instead of just realizing how many things could apply to school, they were realizing that everything counts, and not in an inferior way to "real" thing. They textbooks, let's remind ourselves, our guidebooks - ways of packaging the information that's just out there everywhere. They can be helpful, but they're quite artificial in comparison with real life, the ultimate real deal. 

I don't want to get too philosophical, though. And I don't feel prompted to abandon all my plans and thoughts about our formal school year. But there's time enough to catch up on the spelling books, if necessary. Time enough to read through the science books, only to discover that they know most of what's in there already (and I don't even know how!). In the meantime, I'll (try to) stop feeling that the library trip this morning and the cooperative play outside this afternoon are somehow inferior, and remind myself once again that IT COUNTS! 

PS Of course, I know. Someone is sure to point out that things like Latin and Algebra won't happen by themselves. Are you sure? Well, okay, not in every child, certainly. That someone is right, and of course, we make room for those things. Those things do have to be planned and do require some prompting - that's life. The point, if I need to make it again, is that they aren't any more valuable than the things that seem like failures. 

That Time of Year

It's that time of year again. For many - for most, I would venture to say - Halloween is one of the pleasures of fall. For us, it's what makes this time of year rather difficult for our family. We don't celebrate Halloween in any way, shape, or form. We try not to make a big deal about it, and we completely respect the freedom of fellow believers to celebrate it. (So please hear me - this is not a commentary on anyone's choices but ours). Our kids understand our choice, and the reasons behind it, and respect it for the most part (even taking a stand themselves) but still, some years are harder than others, and I think this is going to be one of those years.

I had a conversation with one of my children about it last night. We talked again about why we've made this choice, and about any reasons that might change our mind to allow us to be less...well, weird on this occasion. So first - the reasons we don't celebrate. I'm pretty sure I blogged about this last year, but we have some new friends this year, so I'll explain them again. After all, my kids have to do this almost daily through the month of October each year. It boils down to two main reasons:

1. The current Halloween traditions seem to us to be too closely tied to their origins. Even the most harmless are echos, bu pretty clear ones, of their original forms. They have no other meaning. There are some Christmas traditions for instance, that may have also had pagan roots, but they are, to me, redeemable. They have other expressions and can relate other meanings. Now, we have some friends who don't even do those things, because of those pagan roots, and we completely respect and understand that. But - TO ME - there seems to be no redeemable value to any of the Halloween traditions.

2. Even the most "harmless" traditions don't seem very harmless. I see no positives about spending money on costumes and going door to door to ask for things - indeed, not just things, but candy, which, if you know me at all, you know I regard as the food of the devil, anyway. I JOKE. (Mostly.)

And that brings to any reasons we might change our mind about this. This is so hard for me each year. Every once in awhile , one or more of my children will ask if we can please just this once go trick or treating. Just this once! I hope they believe me when I tell them that this really does tug at my heartstrings, and that I have no desire whatsoever to make them unhappy. So each year I consider our options. Is there any way we can make this easier? Is there anything we can allow them to do that gives them the fun without compromising our convictions? Last night I asked the child in question to provide some of these answers, if they could. After a good talk, the most I got was, "I just really want to, just once," "It doesn't seem that bad - I don't understand what the big deal is," and "So-and-so is doing it, and you like that person!" And I explained, in turn, why that isn't enough. I want my kids to be happy. I don't want them to feel uncomfortable and out of place for the entire month of October. I want them to have fun. But that's not enough. The fact that we have good friends who celebrate Halloween, to various degrees, isn't enough. Nor is the "what's the big deal" approach a good enough reason to overturn our convictions in this matter. We have to be able to do something because it is a good thing to do. It may be that one day I have to relent in some area in order to prevent a greater problem of simmering resentment - I don't know. I do know that this year isn't the time.

I have no desire to be legalistic or alarmist about Halloween. I hope my kids know that, as well as our friends and family who make a different choice about this holiday. When the subject comes up, I tell my children that when they grow up of course they will be free to make a different choice, too. Unfortunately, that's little consolation for them when they are struggling with being the only one (in the whole wide world, and probably even the universe) who doesn't celebrate Halloween. I am truly sorry about that. The child with whom I had this most recent conversation wanted to know if I had thought about how hard this would be for them when I made this decision, and I can say that I absolutely did know how hard it would be. My sisters and I grew up the odd ones out each Halloween, having to mutter some unintelligible response each time a chipper cashier asked us what we were going to be that year. Oh, I know. I lived through it, obviously, but again, not much consolation for the ones enduring it now. I hope that no matter what they decide when they grow up, they will at least know that, as always, we did the best we could with the information we had. I hope that they will be able to respect the fact that we tried to weigh all that information with an open mind, and that we stood by our convictions when it seemed that was what we had to do. I hope!

Being Free

Despite the rather lofty title, this isn't a post with great spiritual or emotional significance - sorry to have misled you! With it, I actually refer to the more mundane; to be more specific, to food. I posted some time ago about eliminating dairy from my diet for Scarlett's benefit, as she seemed to have a sensitivity to it at the time. It turned out I felt worlds better being off dairy myself so even when she appeared to grow out of her sensitivity, I continued a mostly dairy free diet. I give myself one "cheat" meal a week (usually pizza on Friday night!) ,and use butter on occasion (soy margarine works quite well in recipes, but I don't feel entirely comfortable using soy on a regular basis, and I am still experimenting with coconut oil as a replacement), but other than that, I avoid any dairy products on their own or in other foods. Avoid is probably the wrong word, actually. It sounds like I make great sacrifice to do so, when the truth is that I don't miss it at all. I have tried milk in my coffee only once or twice since I began my dairy free journey, and I have found that I can barely stand the taste and that it makes me feel ill afterwards. I have even cut the amount of cheese on my Friday night pizza in half, because I not only crave it less, but have gradually found it to be less appetizing at all. I don't even miss ice cream. Truly. So for me, it doesn't feel like a "free" sort of diet. I simply choose other foods instead, and am happy with them.


I take this to mean that my body probably doesn't handle dairy well and doesn't need it, for reasons that I can't see outright. But I have still been fighting a battle against eczema, an enemy that has has attacked me with increasing frequency and ferocity over the years, and eliminating dairy hasn't helped in that war. I have tried just about every natural remedy anyone has ever suggested or that I've ever researched on my own....to no avail. Things that work like magic for other people have had no effect on me - even with initial improvement, the eczema has always crept back up and taken over, usually with a vengeance. I had been talking with my doctor here about it, though, and she has been most helpful in having me consider what kind of internal inflammation would be causing this. Whereas before, I considered it only a skin-deep fate/doom, she has always prompted me to think about what's going on internally that would cause an external reaction. And so I recently talked with her about what might be next on the diet list to try, since dairy wasn't the culprit - or the sole culprit, perhaps.

And she said what I had heard before, but what I hoped she wouldn't say - gluten. Eliminating gluten seemed much more intimidating than eliminating dairy. It seems like everything has gluten in it! But at the time we discussed this, I was seeing her for a very bad bout with my eczema, one that reminded me how desperately I wanted to be rid of it. So I left that day, determined to give a gluten free trial a go, and I started the next day. The first week was really dreadful, at first because I hadn't really prepared for it, so there was nothing to eat. Then even as I stocked up on good foods with no gluten, I still had an empty, gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach, no matter how much I ate of them. Into the second week, I wondered if I was just really missing something vital, or if gluten was such an addictive substance that I was having withdrawal. Since that feeling eventually passed, I think, alarmingly, that it was the latter. But even as I felt better, I was a bit dismayed to read one night that a proper gluten free trial should last TWO MONTHS, and I confess, I didn't think I could make it that long. More reading and research, though, led to finding gluten free flours, and other subsitutes and tricks of cooking and baking, and as the weeks went on, I found I could live quite nicely, in fact, on a gluten free diet.

Cut to three months later, and I am still strictly gluten free and finding, as I did with the dairy, that I don't miss it. Some things I actually prefer. And best of all, I feel much , MUCH better off of it. Really, I had no idea it was dragging me down so much. As for the eczema, there is no sign of it. The winter months are approaching, and that's typically when I have my worst bouts, so we'll see, but at the moment, I'm quite pleased with the results. In fact, when we were at the beach a couple weeks ago, I woke up one morning feeling foggy and sluggish, with a rash starting on both wrists. I thought about what I had eaten the day before, and couldn't think of any problem foods, but a little research revealed that the grilled chicken I had had on my salad for dinner had been seasoned with gluten-laced seasoning. I know that makes it sound like poison...but that's actually how it felt! It was good to get a confirmation that I am on the right track.

So...here I am, "free" dairy and gluten, and actually glad of it. Often in fat-free or sugar-free foods, the replacement is something even worse, and taste and nutrition are often compromised, so I don't really like the "free" connotation. I'm really just choosing something else, and those choices mean almost no processed foods..They mean that I eat lots of fruits and vegetables, nuts, roasted meats, and "ancient" grains. Almonds are my best dietary friends, really, as I use almond milk and almond meal which is absolutely key in my gluten free baking! Check out this chocolate cake, for instance. Does it look like a sacrifice? It isn't.
I will say that the one area in which I have not found happiness in with pasta. I hate gluten free pasta. Corn pasta is tolerable, rice pasta is just really awful, although with careful cooking and rinsing, it can be made passable, and quinoa pasta is no good, either. I can eat it, but it's the one time I'm left feeling like I've missed out.

However, that's a sacrifice I'll still make for the sake of well-being, and certainly one I'll make if it means I've actually won the war against my eczema (or have at least turned the tide). I get practically giddy contemplating the notion that it might actually be gone for good. In that case, it won't feel like sacrifice at all. It will feel like really, truly being free!

What Does a Mother-of-Many Look Like, Anyway?

This may begin to sound a trifle vain - please, please, please don't imagine I'm being self-congratulatory or anything of the sort. In sharing a personal experience, I'm only relating what actually happens in order to illustrate a larger point.

So.

It often happens that if I'm in a group of people, and I happen to share that I have five children, people say lovely things like, "You don't look old enough to have five kids!" or, "You look great to have had five!" (And I'm not being unkind - those really are lovely comments.) My fellow mothers-of-several get this kind of reaction, too, and it always makes me wonder what exactly a mother of five is "supposed" to look like. I think I know - I think, given the supposedly ghastly effects of childbirth (and if you multiply that times FIVE - oh my!) and the way raising young children can sometimes seems to suck years off one's life, it would be expected that we would sag in all sorts of places and look (and feel) chronically tired and harried, not to mention rather frumpy (because who with that many kids would have time for personal grooming?). What's interesting to me is that I don't know any mother-of-several who is actually like that! I will even venture to say that it's quite the opposite, in more than one way. Most of the mothers-of-several (or even -of-many) that I know are fit, active, lovely, and nicely groomed (we DO manage to fit showers in now and then!). And what's more, they often become more so with age and with added children, rather than the reverse.

It's almost as if...could it be?...that children don't actually take away from our lives, but that they add to our well-being. It's as though life gives birth to more life, all the way around. It's really a beautiful thought.

I also often hear that people don't know how I "do it," and how I get anything at all done, much less have any time for myself. But here's another area in which I think our society has been neatly decieved. Among my friends who are mothers-of-several, there are intelligent people who are well read and who have all kinds of interests, hobbies, and pursuits. Some of them even write books in addition to reading them. A few have nicely kept houses, but I'll confess, most of the time those pursuits take away from our being able to have immaculate houses. They don't usually take away from time with our children, though. I think that instead of feeling burdened by our kids, and instead of feeling that we are making huge personal sacrifices for them, most of us feel we are surrounded by people with interesting personalities and viewpoints. Just as they watch us and learn, we learn from them, too. And of course we can read and pursue various interests while we're with them (the laundry might not get done, but hey...)

I've been a mother for just over twelve years. Of course it's hard work, Of course having five people needing me all the time can be tiring. Of course my opportunities are different than that of a single and childless 30-something woman. But I think I'm wiser and healthier than I was when I started this journey, and I think I'm far from exceptional in that. Motherhood hasn't been just good for my soul - like a nice sacrifice that has been worth a weary, battered body and the loss of brain cells. Motherhood - and especially motherhood that involves all these little people everywhere! - has been good for my mind and my body, too. I think my fellow warrior-mothers - all you beautiful, smart women - would probably agree.

The Gentle Answer

Dave just recently returned from being out of town for two weeks. I am a little out of practice with solo parenting - he hasn't had to travel much with his job here, certainly not anywhere near as often as he did when we lived in South Carolina - so the past couple weeks have been a little bumpy. To add to that, Chase (the five year old, for any who might not know) was rather challenging during that time period. Strike that - I believe in gentle, positive parenting, but sometimes you have to call it what it is, and in this case, he was downright awful. I know he missed Dave, for one thing, and for another, he has excellent radar for sensing weakness. He knows that I more vulnerable when I have no backup, when I am tired, when I am overloaded with multiple demand and needs, and he likes to push as many buttons as he can during those times. Okay, okay, fellow gentle parenting friends, I KNOW he's just a child, and I KNOW he's mostly just looking for more care and attention because it is in shorter supply when I'm on my own. I am fully aware of all that. But please understand that some kids are just a little...MORE. (If you have one, you know what I mean.) Some kids are a lot MORE. Some kids really do like to push boundaries for the sake of it sometimes, and Chase is one of those. Also understand that I love him not in spite of it, but for it. I love his spirit, his sense of adventure, and his all-out personality. He never does anything by halves, and that's wonderful.

But during the past two weeks, what he didn't do by halves but instead with every ounce of his energy for every waking moment, was to buck every boundary and fight me whenever possible. He wouldn't eat what was available and when it was available, but only what wasn't allowed and when it wasn't convenient. He wouldn't brush his teeth and fought against taking baths. He wouldn't get in the car when we had to go somewhere, and he would unbuckle while we were on the road, forcing us to stop. He fought with his siblings over each and every scrap of anything. He threatened them with bodily harm when he didn't get his way (and if you think a five year old can't really be threatening, you haven't seen Chase wielding a shovel). He threw things when he was angry. He spit at us and called us names. And then after hours of this, when he had drained what seemed the last of my patience and endurance, and usually at a time when I was most busy, he would want me to hold him or sit with him - suddenly as if I were his very favorite person rather than someone against whom he had waged war. Gentle parenting him during all this was not easy. There's not a softly-spoken, gently-worded way to say, "DO NOT HIT YOUR BROTHER WITH THAT SHOVEL!", although I did try to get to the heart of the matter, to employ positive touch and positive words whenever I could. I tried to give him good, productive, happy things to do, before he got himself into mischief. I tried to make sure I looked him in the eye when he was speaking, so that he knew I was busy, but not too busy to hear him. I tried to remain calm when he did go berserk. But I can't say I was always successful, or that I never raised my voice with him. It wasn't always pretty. There was one night that was particularly dreadful, when he was angry for reasons he wouldn't explain, and was rather violent about it. He threw a book at me, then turned to my bedside table and in dramatic fashion, threw everything off of it, one by one. Thoroughly exhausted and at the end of my rope (dangling by the last little unravelling thread, in fact), I just sat there and watched him as I considered my options. Trying to discuss things with him had already failed. He wasn't in the mood to talk. I decided not to renew any instructions for brushing teeth or getting his pajamas on. What he was doing was so wrong, and I was the parent - I should make that point clear... shouldn't I? But I had enough presence of mind to know know that threatening him, punishing him, or even scolding him would only fuel the anger that was boiling over in him, and widen the gulf that was between us. 

So I waited for him to run out of things to throw, and then as he stood there, fuming, I got up and silently picked everything back up and put it on the table. It felt good because it was the unexpected thing, both for him and for me. It diffused my frustration, and, miraculously, seemed to do the same with his anger. He didn't say a word, either. He climbed into bed, I climbed in next to him, and he snuggled up beside me, for all the world like he hadn't just been throwing things at me. I said I loved him and that I was sorry he was angry - or sad, or frustrated, or whatever it was he was feeling that he couldn't explain and didn't know what to do with. I said I understood what it feels like to be angry, but that we needed to find other ways for him to deal with it, because throwing things generally doesn't help. Also, people generally don't appreciate having things thrown AT them. And, again, I said that I loved him. He didn't say anything, but pretty soon he was snoring. 

Later I thought about how amazing it is when "a gentle answer turns away wrath," and about "traditional parenting," or whatever you want to call it, often doesn't apply that proverb to parenting. After all, if you don't stand your ground and let your kids know that you're in charge, they'll run roughshod all over you. If you let them disobey and disrespect you, why, they'll be ruined forever. And in that light, how can you afford to let gentleness and kindness get in the way of showing them what's what? Obviously, we reject that, but of course, we believe in boundaries and in teaching our children. We believe in allowing them to learn from natural consequences, and sometimes, in imposing consequences that help bring them back within the reasonable boundaries. So as a rule, hitting, throwing, and name-calling is not allowed in our house. But I also don't think that the "gentle answer" in this case in anyway undermined those house rules or my authority as a parent. I don't think he looked at that and thought, "Haha, I got away with that one. Throwing things really IS okay. What else can I get away with?" I always think that the heart is more important than rules - that true discipline of the heart and mind is always better than punishment, which I try to avoid - and so I think that it was vastly more important for him to experience wrath being dispelled than for a broken rule to be punished. It was so much more important for good to happen than for me to "win." It's not about me having the upper hand at all times. It's about a heart and soul learning goodness. 

And you know what - that was a turning point for us. He wasn't suddenly angelic, but he was noticeably calmer and a little more cooperative the next day and from then on out. I don't think it's because he thought he had won something or that I was a pushover - if that point wasn't actually clear, he learned it when I (silently and oh so gently!) locked his bike up for a few days after he purposefully went out and rode it after I had said no. Rather, I think it was because WE won something together, when the unexpected moment of grace, the quiet and unassuming "gentle answer," proved to be stronger than the much louder forces of anger, strife, and frustration - and far more pleasant. 

A Note of Confidence

Here in Ohio, we are required to notifify the school district of our "intent to homeschool," and that intent must be approved by the school board. I hate this and think it is absurd that I, the parent, whose home provides the natural and normal learning environment, must request permission from the governement, whose schools can only offer a substitute for the real thing. But we generally try to follow the law, so we (somewhat grudgingly) go through the notification process, which, to our school district's credit, is quite painless. It is merely the principle of the thing to which I object. At any rate, part of the deal is that at the end of each school year, homeschool families must either submit standardized test scores for each student or a written narrative from a certified teacher, verifying that each student is performing at his or her ability. The latter is cheaper, so that was our choice this year, and we chose a teacher who is a part of our homeschool group, and, coincidentally, also goes to our church. Most importantly, she is a supporter of parents' rights, and wants to help homeschoolers fulfill the letter of the law, without infringing on those rights, and I appreciate that enormously.

So a few weeks ago, I organized the kids' portfolios and typed some reading lists, and took it all to the assesment, which was an informal meet-up with said teacher at a Panera. She took a quick glance at our curriculum summary and reading list, and said, "Wow - it looks like you've found your niche and are in your groove. It's great!" And we spent the time talking about homeschool  philosophy,learning styles, and the fact confidence in homeschooling comes from realizing that it is a lifestlye and as such, is an entirely different animal altogether than the experience in a brick-and-mortar school. And while I still strongly disagree with the fact that I had to do this whole thing at the governement's behest, I really did appreciate the confirmation that what we're doing is not only passable, but is, in fact, a really good thing.

I say this all NOT to toot my own horn. Goodness knows we have our ups and downs, and there are times - times I've posted about here! - in which I feel like I'm just failing my children completely. But underneath it all, we know that our homeschooling journey is a good thing. It will work out. It IS working out. I credit my own experience growing up as a homeschooler with much of that confidence (so thanks, Mom and Dad). The rest of that confidence comes from having five children who are all very different people, and who are all learning and growing faster than I can possibly keep up with, and they've done so whether I've felt "on the ball" or have felt like we've done nothing at all. They're learning whether I've had money for all the curriculum I've wanted to buy (um...let me try to remember the year that happened...) or have barely scraped enough together to get the basics. They're learning NOT because we've tapped into just the right curriculum, NOT because I'm a great teacher or an especially patient person, and NOT because we're just the kind of people homeschooling is "for." Our assessor didn't say that we were "in our groove" because we have it all together and are doing this homeschooling thing perfectly. She said it because the one thing we do know without a doubt is that people are wired to learn, and when they have the freedom to do so, with as little interference as possible, they will...ah...do so!

That didn't come out as smoothly as I had intended. At any rate, we have all our paperwork in order, ready to send in with our notification this year, and, in addition, we have a little extra boost of confidence as we keep marching along in our journey of learning together. And I hope my fellow homeschool warriors will feel some of that same confidence! We can do this. We ARE doing this. Our kids are, at the same time, learning in spite of us AND because of us. So don't dwell on your fears, fret over your perceived shortcomings, or discount the "nothing" days in which your kids don't do a smidgen of "real school" but instead "just" read, play, and let their senses interact with God's creation.

 Also, take comfort in the fact that because I've expressed these high-flown ideals and exhortations, tomorrow is probably going to explode in the humbling, hair-tearing, lock-myself-in-the-closet-to-cry kind of day that typically happens just when you think thing are going pretty well. Ha! But even if it does, we'll still be learning...

A Good Life

The idea of making a very big move, from South Carolina and our friends and family there, to Ohio, where we knew no one, was at first a hard one for our kids to process. They had (have, still) some very good friends in SC, and everything they had ever known was there. I talked to them about how the move I made when I was in my older kids' age group was "the" move for me, the one that led me to my best friends and to the houses, the social groups, the church, and the life in general that is the one I associate with my growing-up years. I hoped that this might be that kind of move for them, although it was a leap of faith, certainly. We really didn't know what we would find here, or how things would work out, or how in the world - sorry, dear Ohians - Ohio could be anything like a land of promise. But we took the leap, believing that the doors were wide open for us to come here.

From the beginning, we truly were impressed with what this area has to offer, and there have always been confirmations along the way that this was the right thing to do. Filling in the void of friends and community created by our leaving familiar territory was a little bumpier at first, but that's been coming together in these last few months. Today Dave and Drew had a canoeing trip with the 5th and 6th grade group from church, so I thought I would take the other kids to the pool. Aimee asked if her good friend from church could go, and I said of course, and the friend and her family are flexible and spontaneous like that, so she came over in short order so that she could go with us. When we got to the pool, our youth pastor and his family arrived there as well, and when it was time for me to get Scarlett home, they asked if my boys could stay with them a little longer (they have a boy around the our boys' ages) and they would bring them home later. The boys readily agreed, so I headed home with just the girls. The older girls immediately campaigned for a sleepover, which was fine with me, because this friend, a fellow homeschooler and a kindred spirit in many ways, is someone who brings out all the best in Aimee, and I love that. Her parents consented, so Aimee has a whole day and night with good, wholesome company. The boys arrived home only just a little while ago, having enjoyed an afternoon with more good company. Dave and Drew had a good time on their trip, and they'll have many more to come (as Dave has signed on to help with that group). I enjoyed a cup of coffee and then cleaned up around the house a little while everyone was occupied, peacefully resting in the knowledge that everyone was safe, happy, and with good friends. I didn't have to arrange it or ask for it - it just happened naturally. This, I thought, is what community feels like. And so this really HAS been "the" move - at least so far, because one never knows what will happen. We love our church, we are excited about growing friendships, relationships, and opportunities, and there is more peace in our life in general than I think there ever has been before.

It is a good thing. And it happened in Ohio! Who would have guessed?

A Quick Update and (Some of) The Promised Book Recommendations

It's been a really long time since I've been here. I don't know why/ I haven't been at a loss for topics; I"ve just been unmotivated to do much of anything but enjoy our small summer break (which is now over. Sort of.).Let's see...during the past month of so, we've enjoyed the pool (getting a membership this year was completely worth it!), been to the library more times than we can count as we've taken advantage of the reading programs of two library systems, I've taken a trip with Scarlett to visit my sister and her two little ones in Augusta, GA, and we've celebrated Scarlett's birthday. I rather forgot to post about that one. Maybe I'll get to that later. But I also forgot to post with specific book recommdendations, and by now, I've mostly forgotten what was captivating us at the time.

But I'll try with a few.

I did read, as was evident by one of my pictures, the new Flavia de Luce mystery. My friend Hannah, noting that, wanted to know if it was worth it. Eh...so, so. Good writing and a fun mystery. But the rather discouraging family dynamic remained the same, and my mother's heart was, as usual, a little pained for poor Flavia. But that was just an interlude during my intense dystopian novel phase. Aimee checked out a slew of books recommended for "those who liked The Hunger Games," and some of them looked interesting, so I read them along with her, or, if I could, before she did. That was useful in the case of Across the Universe, which was captivating and interesting, but dealt with some themes I didn't think Aimee was ready for. We also read The Shadow Children series, which is geared for a slightly younger audience (so Drew read the first one with interest). Variant was another that I initially thought I didn't want to read, but actually had some fascinating twists that made it worthwhile (no sequel until this fall, though - and the first book certainly left us hanging). The Comet's Curse lent itself to some very interesting social questions, but the sequel jumps the shark, as it were. And most recently, the best of all - Legend.. Exciting, romantic, thought-provoking...and needing a sequel, which I think is forthcoming.

None of that is  very serious, grown-up writing, although I certainly don't think a book has to be any less "valid" simply because it's a "young adult" book. A good book is a good book. Now, for good books for the younger set, we've had a revolving library of picture books and read-alouds this summer, and I have failed to record what we've read, before taking it back to the library to make room for more. Ah, well. I will say that for picture books, we just check out dozens and filter from there. Some are good, some aren't (obviously). For read-alouds and fun reading that's also good literature, I rely on The Veritas Press and Sonlight catalogs.

Oh, but we did stumble upon a good series all on our own - The Gideon Trilogy, about children who accidentally fall through time back into the eighteenth century. Very interesting and exciting! We also all read the final book of Rick Riordan's Kane Chronicles, which  series we had picked up due to our fondness for the Percy Jackson and Heroes of Olympus series. I didn't love that set of books, because of the high magic content, and the third book is probably the most magic-heavy of all of them. So we read it because we had begun the series and wanted to finish, but I am cautious about recommending those. Those of you who like the Rick Riordan books, what do YOU think of the Kane Chronicles?

Thirteen Years and Going

I know I'm cheating a bit here, and falling back on the same format I've used the past couple of posts, in which I use pictures to tell most of the story, rather than words. Perhaps I'm being lazy, or I'm pressed for time, or I'm just enjoying the poignancy of looking back. In any case, here it is:

Dave and I are celebrating our 13th anniversary today. We went out to eat to celebrate the ocassion on Sunday evening, and with that done, we both almost forgot about the fact that today is the day of our actual anniversary, and honestly, we don't have much time today to reflect on the past thirteeen years - the present is too busy and exciting...and good. It's good. But I'll take a look back for a moment, to our beginning, when we were practically infants. Good grief, we were so young!

We don't regret getting married when we did, but we do sometimes think about how young and inexperienced we were. We made plenty of mistakes in those first years, that's for sure. Probably some people thought getting pregnant in the first year and having a baby just before our first anniversary was one of them...but we don't.

We were still children at that point, but starting our family early (and with such a treasure as Aimee) was a good thing. Adding our first son a couple years later was also a good thing.

The next few years weren't always easy - they were probably our most challenging. Certainly it seemed unwise to most people for us to get pregnant yet again, it scared us a little, too. But we knew God had a plan for our family, and that he would always provide for our needs. That's probably what we learned most in those years, Sometimes it was seared onto our souls in a painful fashion. And we were still learning it when we had that third little one and found ourselves readying for number four in pretty quick succession.

I think people thought we were crazy, foolish, or both. But that's something else we learned after getting over the hardest of those times. Listening to wise counsel is good. But laboring under the weight of other people's convictions, ideas, and criticism is not. It was freeing for us to begin to make choices based on our own convictions, and to be confident in those choices. It was also freeing to acknowledge our mistakes, but not to be weighed down by guilt - to learn from them, to make better choices the next time, and to walk our family's journey with more confidence. And we still didn't consider any member of our growing family a mistake or an unwise choice.

When Scarlett, as number five, was botn, it was like a culmination of that learning process. Yes, we were having :"another one," and yes, our house was "too small," and we still didn't have any money to speak of, and a gentle birth at home in said too small house may have seemed ridiculous to some, but the whole pregnancy and birth was faith building and family bonding.

Our move to Ohio a year and a half ago was another positive step for our marriage and our family, which is still of seven - and no, there's no annoucement coming! We are not growing in number, but everyone is certainly growing. And growing.

And we are happy. Now, I know some who might be critical of our choices might say we are all about our kids, that pretty much our whole married life thus far has been about kids. It's true that we only had a few months together before I became pregnant, and it was no longer just the two of us, But that hasn't taken anything away from what Dave and I have; on the contrary, our emphasis on family, been a major part of what has caused us to continue to grow together. We grow our family together, we trust God for our family together, we are happy together.

And when we get a chance to go out just ourselves, sans children - and a little older and wiser ourselves these days - we still have things to talk about.

"Do You Feel Older?"

This morning my Mom Skyped Aimee to tell her Happy Birthday (and to see the pink streak the latter put her in hair for the occasion). Mom asked Aimee if she felt any older, and then she remarked, "Well, you look older!" And, sporting her pink streak and her new Mockingjay earrings, Aimee rather did look grown up this morning.

But we are partly in jest when on birthdays we ask that question - did you feel older?" - and remark on whether the person in question looks older,because of course one day doesn't make much difference in how we feel or look. As a parent, I note my the growth and development of my children, but I confess that I get accustomed to them in their respective phases. Aimee has been in the "older kid" phase for a while now, and so when my mom remarked that she looked older - again, partly in jest - I pondered her growth of late. Does she look "older?"

In the beginning of child's life, of course, growth is so drastic, change so noticeable, that it's noticeable almost daily. They start out so tiny, so new...

...and then in a matter of months, they are different creatures altogether.

Into toddlerhood, growth is still rapid, but perhaps the change slows just a bit...

Still, seeing them do things like sports and dance takes your breath away, as you remember what they just were, not so very long ago.

They don't slow down, by any means, but they become kids, and the stages last longer each time.

But somewhere, somehow, "little girl" doesn't seeme to apply anymore, and that's a new stage, when the horizons broaden..and legs keep lengthening...

And when they hold younger siblings a whole decade younger than they are, the difference does start to show.

And yes, some days, they just look so grown up...

And some other days, they look REALLY grown up, and you can't help but take note.

So does she look older? I guess so. Just a little bit.

Happy birthday, dear Aimee Perrine!

Stacks of Books, Part One

In my last post, I mentioned that we have been to the library numerous times (two or three times a week), and that we have read through stacks of books. I'm not exaggerating. Stacks, and stacks, and some more stacks. In our very first days of freedom from school, all our readers began devouring books through hours upon hours of reading, as if we had all been starving. We hadn't - our learning experience revolves around whole books - but the freedom to read what we want and for as long as we want has been almost intoxicating. And, I should add, it means that learning hasn't stopped in the least. Some of us have even been writing our own books. Aimee has been working hours each day on a dystopian story, and I believe, still at the fantasy story she's been working on for months with a friend. (Both stories are quite good!).


 But back the books already in print - we have quite a few from the library around here, and they aren't collecting dust. This is our usual library basket:

But we have some books upstairs for bedtime reading convenience:

And a basket in the hallway for chapter book readers to choose from:

And a stack of required reading, also in the hallway, from which I would like Aimee and Drew to pick a book at least once a week. (This picutre just won't load for some reason.)

Then everyone has their own stack in their own room. Aimee always has quite a few in her room:

Drew has some:

And the younger boys always have an interesting assortment:

Of course, the Star Wars research is ongoing:

They also like to listen to books on CD, so we have a special basket for those as well:

And since we are on break, I have time for a good selection, too (these are tucked between my bed on the floor and the mostly un-used crib mattress - we're so stylish here):

And I have the latest Flavia de Luce mystery on my Kindle, courtesy of our library's growing digital collection:

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So. Books, books, books, and more books. Recommendations later.

A Timeful Life

We wrapped up our school year (such as it is - since we have a year round schedule, the lines dividing one year from the next are somewhat indisctint) two weeks ago, and since then, we've done pretty much nothing. I had meant, for one thing, to go straight into sorting our school papers and portfolios, to organize the school room and then the house, and I had meant for us to have a more purposeful sort of break in general. I suppose that defeats the purpose of taking a break, though, and in any case, there's still time for some of that. And the truth is that because we had our "spring break" in February, when Aimee and Dave were in Chile, and then had three solid months of school before another significant break, we were burnt out. Really badly burnt out - or, at least, I was. I fully acknowledge that in the last couple months, as we were trudging along at home, I was completely useless to anyone else. At church, in our LLL Group, in our homeschool group, in any area I can think of, I contributed almost nothing. I apologize to my friends in all those areas, and make my mental note a publicly stated one - never go so long in our homeschooling without a decent break. That was a mistake, and by mid May, when I finally surrendered and declared our school year over, I was mentally and emotionally tired.

So...for the past two weeks, we've just been. We haven't been hermits, by any means (although that sounds nice to my introverted self sometimes!), but we haven't had much plan, direction, or structure at all. We've done some work in our garden, kept the house at a reasonable level of order, done some basic chores and errands here and there, but mostly we've just played outside and read through stacks - and stacks - of books. And yes, the rules for the electronics have relaxed a little, so we've played the Wii and watched favorite movies a little more often than usual. We've done some park dates and we went strawberry picking once, we've been geocaching when we felt like it, and we've been to the library numerous times - basically, whatever we've felt like doing and whenever we've felt like doing it, we've done it. When the weather warms back up, we'll add the pool into the mix. And eventually, we'll pull ourselves together and ready ourselves for more structure. At some point, I will be ready to re-enter society and be helpful again.

But for now, we are enjoying what Sheldon Vanauken in A Severe Mercy referred to as a "timeful life-" in which we are "quiet and leisurely", with time "to stop and stare." Okay, okay, I know this is not realistic with kids. They aren't exactly quiet, and they will grow bored with this after a time; indeed, they are getting to that point already. But my soul is enjoying some quiet and leisure, and for that I'm not apologetic. I'll get back with the rest of the world later!

All the Special Things

Last night both Aimee and Drew had special dinners at church, to welcome them into the respective groups into whch they are graduating - Aimee into the junior high group, and Drew into the 5th and 6th graders group. For some reason, I am having a much harder time with the idea of Drew going into 5th grade than with Aimee going into junior high, but let's save all that for another day. In any case, since Dave will be helping with the 5th and 6th grade group next school year, he also went to dinner, so I decided to take the younger set to do something special, which for them means Chick-fil-A. Listen, I know there was an article that went around several weeks ago about how Chick-fil-A really isn't very great nutritionally after all, but I'm just going to say that I didn't feel guilty in the slightest about taking them last night, so we're just going to leave it at that. In fact, when we pulled into the parking lot, and I responded in the affirmative to the boys' queries about whether we were getting kids' meals AND eating in, their joy was postively contagious. It was easy, then, once we got our food and they began trying to decide whether to keep the toy or trade it for ice cream, to say that they could have the toy AND we would still get ice cream. At this, Ryan said, "Wow! We get to have ALL the special things!"

I didn't tell him that he was wrong, that really I'm the one who gets all the special things.

As we we walked out the door, Ryan said, "This has been the best night of my life," Granted, seven doesn't have much perspective, but I had to agree it was pretty great.

Bonding

I don't have anything really witty or insightful to say about this picture, just that this is how I bond with the boys, these days particularly Chase. It's pretty good stress relief, too!

Praise

One day last week a friend and I were talking about praising children's deeds and accomplishments. She has one little boy, just shy of a year, and as a mother of several, of all different ages, I was relating various examples, but then when she asked, "But how do you know where the line is? How do you know when it's appropriate to give praise, and how much is too much?"

And I, experience mother of five, said, "Um...."

I'm actually not really sure. I also felt a little guilty, since I had related an instance of when I thought a parent had praised something their child did, and I felt the instance didn't really call for it. I felt the parent was contributing to that particular child's rather large sense of entitlement. But I suppose the statement the parent made sounded innocent enough, so my criticism of it was based solely on my feelings, and not on any real principle. Was I saying that my opinion was principle enough? Ouch.

So I thought about what that principle in our home is. I don't think I did in as many words, but in the first place, I certainly should have told my friend that certainly at the age her little one is now, there is no such thing as excessive praise. But even as they grow...I generally believe that praise and positive words should greatly outweigh criticism and negative words. No one would like to be corrected and critized ALL DAY LONG, but that can be alarmingly easy to do with children. So I try to consider how I would like to be addressed. Even when correction is necessary, I try to do so the way I would like to hear it myself. It can also be helpful to remind myself of the positive aspects of a child's personality, even in the heat of the moment, so I'm frequently heard saying things like, "Oh, my goodness, I LOVE YOU AND YOU ARE SO PERSISTENT. That is great. But [for the hundrenth time] you're still not going to have ice cream for breakfast." Of course, sometimes positive wording isn't appropriate for the moment. I have heard parents really bend over backwards to phrase something in a positive way rather than a negative one, but when, for instance, you walk into the dining room and find your boys flinging spaghetti at each other (true story), it's perfectly reasonable to forget to say, "How energetic and happy you all are! But let's leave the spaghetti on our plates, please," and it's entirely appropriate to say, "STOP THAT RIGHT NOW! WHAT IN THE WORLD DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!?!?!"

Note that it seems like I'm shouting a lot here, so I'll take this moment to say that boys, in general, seem to need firmer wording in louder tones, and they don't seem to mind it. I don't mean that I'm yelling at them all the time. But while a girls, in general, seem to appreciate many words in gentle tones, boys would often rather you get to the point. And when they are jumping all over the furniture playing Avengers, they can only hear you when you say, "HEY! TRAMPOLINE!"

But I'm getting a little off topic. I only meant to say that whle our general practice is to use positive words as often as possible, sometimes children require directions more to the point. And sometimes the things they do truly aren't praiseworthy at all. Sometimes really ugly things spill out, just as they do for all of us. In those times, I think it's perfectly acceptable to say, "I love YOU, but there's nothing good about this thing you just did or said." But again, what about the things that ARE praiseworthy? As parents, we tend to think everything our children do is absolutely wonderful and exceptional. It's ok to let them know that. But I've noticed as they get older, my children began to call me out on this. "You're just saying that because you're my mom," or, "Do you REALLY think it's good?" So I try to be specific in my praise, and let them know when something really is, by anyone's standards, a good thing.

Also, I don't, by intention and because I just wouldn't have enough time for this, praise them each and every time they do something that's expected of them as a member of the household or as a member of humanity (although I try to say thank you often). Really, I hear parents do that sometimes, and it sounds both tedious and not very genuine. But when I know a child struggles with something like obeying or controlling his temper, and they do something that demonstrates a victory in that area, I certainly do praise them for it. So when we have to go somewhere, and my five year old - who once sat stubbornly in a bath so long it went ice-cold, simply so that he could delay our departure for co-op one morning  - puts a shirt and shoes on and gets in the car straightaway the first time I say, "Let's go!", you'd better believe I make a point of it!


I feel I didn't get anywhere near the answer to the original question here, so I appeal to you, dear readers - how do YOU dole out your praise? What do you feel is the line between enough and too much, or the line between genuine and false? Do you even think about it?