How Do You...

I was at a La Leche League meeting one evening last week, and we doing a meeting called "How Do You...", in which the mothers discuss how to do common chores and errands that are made more challenging with the arrival of a new baby. One of the "How Do You..." topics is "...take a shower," and as the other mothers were discussing how to find time to do that, someone asked me how I've managed it with my crew, and I mentioned happily that it really is much easier now that all my kids are older.

Yesterday's shower was a great example of just how easy it is, in fact.

I was in the bathroom for maybe a minute, when the first knock sounded on the door.

"I'm in the bathroom," I said automatically. Whatever it is can wait, right? One would think. But it was one of the boys announcing that a package we had been waiting for had arrived. I assured him I would take care of it when I got out.

Thirty seconds later, another knock - "But Chase is trying to open it!"

"Well, I'm taking a shower and I can't deal with it right now, but I'll take care of it as soon as I get out."

Thirty seconds later - "I tried to stop him, and now he's trying to throw something at me!"

"I'm in the BATHROOM! Leave him alone, and I'll take care of everything as soon as I get out!"

Sixty seconds before the next knock, just when I was starting to think they had resolved it without injury. Well, they had, but it was another child, who had come to say that the younger boys had moved on to checking on the toad they had found the day before. They had, it seemed, decided that it was too cold in the habitat they had made for it in the garage, and they were trying to move it inside.

"NO!" I started to say, but then considered the scene that would probably ensue - one child trying to be helpful in preventing the other two from bringing in a big container full of water and an energetic toad eager to escape. So I stated again that I was IN THE SHOWER, and that I would take care of everything and everyone really soon. 

Ten seconds later, a smaller knock, then the door opened. It was Scarlett. "Mommy, you're taking a shower?"

"Yes, but I just need to wash my hair and I'll be right out."

"Okay. I'll count to twenty."

Twenty seconds - how generous! Or more like 15, since some numbers get lost in the counting. Or actually like ten, because then she said urgently, "But I have to go potty!"

So, shower over. See how easy that was?

In Which We Grapple with Controversial Issues

Several years ago, we stumbled across a movie - Percy Jackson: The Lightning Thief. I watched it with the older kids, and it was a so-so movie, but an intriguing concept, and so when we discovered that it was based on a book - nay, a whole series! - we were excited.  Now of course, modern children's literature, and Young Adult to an even greater extent, is tricky territory. There are gems here and there, but there is much more drivel, and mixed into both the good and the bad, a myriad of ideas and events that contradict our value system. Or introduce confusion. Or maybe just push boundaries and inspire thought. Often it's hard to tell. In any case, we don't really ban books in our house; in general, I just try to steer the kids toward good writing and storytelling, with values closer to ours than not, and I hope that they will see for themselves the truth of the other kind. I can't possibly read first everything that the older kids in particular find, anyway, and that's really okay. The foundation they have will withstand occasional encounters with concepts that don't line up with our values. In fact, since the world is overflowing with concepts, events, ideas, and choices that don't line up with our values, I would rather the kids encounter some instances of these things while they're with me, than be overwhelmed with it all when they venture out on their own.

At any rate, in this instance, we all embarked on the Percy Jackson books together. And you know what? I'm not ashamed to admit it - I found them intriguing and exciting, and I was just as eager to get to them as the kids. So. We read all the books in the Percy Jackson series, then read the Kane Chronicles (which contain a bit more magic than I would normally like in children's books), and then eagerly awaited and devoured upon release the Heroes of Olympus installments. None of the characters in the books are Christian kids. We get that. Any instance of any kind of faith is of the mythological kind - and a bit of a caricature of mythological Greek, Roman, and Egyptian gods at that. But none of the series has pushed any kind of political or social agenda, nor has it appeared to put down or work against any kind of other worldview. The teenagers are in some ways "typical," but in most others, they seek higher goals and embody more noble character traits than the "typical" teens of our day. In general, if there are character traits and ideals exalted in any of the series, those are of bravery, courage, sacrifice, honor, and friendship. We can certainly deal with that!

So we were excited when the latest installment of the Heroes of Olympus series was just released last week. We had pre-ordered it, and had to enter serious negotiations to determine who was going to read it first. Aimee ended up finishing it first, and it was my turn next. About midway through the book, I read a scene that was unsettling. As I've explained, there have never really been any deep issues, approached from any angle, within the books. But here was a doozy, complete with the popular mantras of our day. I wasn't worried about Aimee having encountered it first - she's grounded and pretty well informed. But I was a little disgruntled at the notion that I was going to have to explain something to the boys that is controversial and yet rather a social darling. Now, I know that some of our friends would celebrate the issue that is touched on here, and they probably envision us having a book-burning while making signs to ward off evil. I have others that would see that issue as a deal breaker and probably question my decision to let the kids continue reading. We can't win.

Fortunately, while we love all our friends, we don't answer to any of you. I know that there's no way to convince those of you on the one side that while we have firm beliefs on this topic, we're not brainwashing the kids into spouting programmed responses. And I know that those on the other side think we're being too lax in monitoring what our kids read, so just by continuing to let them read, we lose a bit of your respect. But as I pondered how to broach this with kids who were eager to read the book, I acknowledged a couple of things - in the first place, banning the book would simply cause confusion, frustration, and a heightened desire to read it; and in the second place, this is something they are going to encounter repeatedly, and in just this form, with the emotionally manipulative wording. And after I finished the book myself, I found that the story itself unwittingly offered a counterargument. It was worth finishing.

So I talked with Drew about what he was going encounter in the book. Naturally, it went like, "Evil, evil, evil, people bashing, brainwashing material, here's what you are to believe, evil, evil, evil." OR...we just talked about the situation the book presented. We talked about how our society views and presents it, and we talked about what the Bible says about it. We talked about how we are all born with natural tendencies , instincts, and desires, but that God calls us to be more than the sum of our biological urges. And ironically, the book ended with that theme as well, as more than one character makes choices contrary to the way he was made and the way he had lived (in the context of this fictional world) for eons. There is more than one great moment like that, reminding me of all the things we really do like about Percy Jackson.

 I said in the beginning that I'm glad for the kids to encounter these kind of opposing values while they're with me, so I guess in one way, I'm glad for this little plot twist. It would have been more fun to read the book without it, but there it was. It remains to be seen how the issue will be handled in the next book, but for now, I think we navigated it as best we could. It would be great if Rick Riordan would just stick to adventure and daring, but I suspect that's too much to ask for. now that we've crossed this bridge.

I wonder if it's also too much to ask for that friends who read this won't try to convince us one way or the other on these kinds of matters. I wonder if I can just post it as an example of how we who believe the Bible to be true dealt with something that contradicts what the Bible teaches us, and of how we can read a really good book and be disappointed in some things, but also find some redeeming qualities in the same. I hope so!

In Which We Wish Ballet Class Was Every Day

As I warned a relative already this morning...I will hurt anyone who says anything remotely negative or sarcastic to this particular child about this particular blog post. Well, maybe "hurt" is too strong a word. Or maybe not. Let's just not risk it, okay? :-)

Anyway, Chase took his first full ballet class yesterday. He had participated in a portion of a class last week, when Scarlett was, for some reason, reluctant to join in, and the teacher eagerly suggested he join on a regular basis as they prepare for a Nutcracker performance in December. So he participated in the whole class yesterday, and he was amazing. I don't necessarily mean that he was some kind of dance prodigy, although he did pick everything up quickly, and he did all the steps with great strength and coordination, which was fun to watch - but what I do mean was that he spent an hour happily listening, cooperating, following instructions, and helping other kids. The teacher immediately had kids following his lead, and he stayed focused on his role the whole time. It was fantastic.

I say this because he has never been the easiest kid to parent, and lately he's been especially challenging. It's been like having a six year-old Jekyll and Hyde in the house - one minute he's perfectly calm and happy, the next minute he's running down the aisle in church (during the service), tormenting his sister, yelling at the top of his lungs, demanding, refusing, insisting, whining, pushing all the buttons he can think of to push...You get the idea. He's been exhausting, quite frankly.

So it was a joy to see him so...grounded for a time. As wild as he appears at times, he really does appreciate order and precision, and I think he really enjoyed that aspect of the class. And, as he pointed out philosophically beforehand, 'If there are no boy dancers, the ballerinas don't have anyone to dance with." A perfectly valid point.

And to any doubters who need any other assurance, I have heard of football players taking ballet classes to help with their balance and coordination. If that doesn't convince you, fine. But if you say anything but something truly encouraging to my lad about this...back to the hurting. Just kidding. Well....

In Which We DO Have Some Warm-Fuzzies, and Alice in Wonderland Becomes Logical

So there are the rather difficult days like the one I described in my previous post...and then there are the "good" homeschool days, like the one we had yesterday. It was a long and busy day, but we did have those "warm-fuzzy" moments, and overall, it was a very productive day at that.

After dropping the older kids off at their Science classes early in the morning, the younger ones and I had our best attempt yet at whiling our time away at the the muffin shop. It was busier, and therefore louder, than usual, so we didn't stand out as drastically. After they ate - and lobbied successfully for juice, and traded muffins and ate some more, and lobbied unsuccessfully for different food, and stood (wrestled and karate-chopped) in line to get some take-home bags for their leftovers, and either ate some more or decided that they didn't want their muffins anymore because a certain little girl had licked the frosting off of one - we pulled out some games I had brought for the occasion.

We played "I Spy ABC Bingo," which is a semi-sneaky way of reviewing letter sounds for certain reluctant six year-old learners. Then we played UNO, which is always a fun way of reviewing numbers, colors, taking turns, and cut-throat competition (the glee with which my kids put down those "draw 4" cards" is disturbing).To an observer, I'm sure this looked like a classic warm-fuzzy homeschooling moment, and we had those kind of compliments. From an insider's view, however, it went a little like this:

"Chase, your turn. No, you can't cheat and take the draw-4 card out of the pile. Ryan, stop complaining. just draw. Scarlett, SIT down. Ryan, go. Ryan, just go, Ryan, darling, it's your turn, Chase, don't get up. Scarlett, SIT down. Please don't stand up in your chair - I'll bring the card pile to you. Chase, lower your voice. Yes, it's your turn. No, it's mine? Okay, I went, now go. No wait - we reversed it? Who did? Scarlett, SIT down. Oh, I don't know - let's just go around this way. Chase, please lower your voice, Scarlett, SIT down!" Etc. But it actually counted as a successful hour or so, and we spent longer there than usual, so we didn't have more time to fill until we picked up the older two. We stopped by the pet store, per our usual, to say hello to the cats up for adoption, and then we went back to the church building where the science classes are held, and we did math in the car while we waited. The older ones emerged after a short while, pleased with the grades they had received on their previously turned-in study guides, and we made our way home.

We had lunch and some time to rest, and the while the younger ones played rather happily together throughout the afternoon, building with Legos and setting up a city with the Little People sets, I sat on my red couch (which always makes me happy to look at, but upon which I rarely get a chance to actually sit) and alternated some planning and paperwork of my own, with doing some school with the older two. The first thing we tackled together was Logic. They groan when I convene them for this purpose, but we almost always have an interesting, if not downright fun, time with it. Yesterday's topic was statements. We discussed self-supporting statements, and their examples were as follows:

Aimee: "I believe in Sherlock Holmes." "I believe that Matt Smith is awesomer [disclaimer: we discussed the fact that "more awesome" is more appropriate, and I know they both know that, so never mind that] than David Tennant. [disclaimer: We didn't need to discuss the fact that while this was a completely valid self-supporting statement, in that we can accept the truth of what she believes on this point, other supporting evidence tells us that her belief is misplaced, as David Tennant is clearly the more awesome of the two.] "It is my opinion that Matt Smith was the best doctor."

Drew: "It is my opinion that this [Logic] is horrible." "I believe that David Tennant is awesomer than Matt Smith." 

We then discussed true statements, and their offerings were of the like: "Tom Baker has curly hair." And yes, another true statement would be, "We have a fixation with British television in our house." We spent a good long while on tautologies and self-contradicting statements. Tautologies offered were, "Thor is the best Avenger, or he isn't," and "Matt Smith was the best doctor, or one of the other actors was." They seemed to understand that point, although one of my children fails to see the truth about which actor best served Doctor Who. Self-contradicting statements proved a bit more of a challenge. One of the kids had a harder time grasping how such statements must completely contradict themselves, and not leave other options open, so we grappled with that for a time, explaining how statements such as "David Tennant's hair is awesome, and David Tennant's hair is not awesome," is not self-contradictory, as it could just be stating that his hair has qualities that would apply to both. Finally we landed on, "Extremis [Iron Man 3] has effect, and Extremis has no effect." We then discussed statements which are true or false by definition, and then we touched on nonsense statements. 

Then I read them a list of statements which they had to identify as true statements, false statements, questions, commands, or nonsense. They were advised by the book to be careful in their judgments, as they indeed were. They were, in fact, getting bored with the ease of the assignment until I read, "The slithy toves did gyre and gimble," at which they both sat up and animatedly declared, "True statement!" I was pleased that they both knew it was a line from the Jabberwocky, and I complimented them on that. I said, "But of course that's a nonsense poem, so..."  "But 'slithy toves' are real in Alice in Wonderland," persisted Aimee. "So it's a true statement in the book." "Well," I faltered. "That's interesting. But I'm not sure..." She got up, and said, "I'll show you! I know exactly where that part is," and ran upstairs to grab the book. A couple minutes later, she came down, with the book open to that exact part, and we read together about Humpty Dumpty explaining to Alice what "toves" were and how they do, in fact, "gyre" and "gimble." So...later we'll talk about source material and how that affects the truth of a statement, but I did concede that within this literary context, "The slithy toves did gyre and gimble" was a true statement. We gave ourselves points for touching on classic literature.

And we shelved for another day a couple of the questions addressed in our Logic lesson, such as who actually best portrayed the doctor on Doctor Who....

....and who is the best Avenger. 

I can be mature enough not to argue with them about how wrong they are on these topics.