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.