Hello, friends! I've been swamped this past month. Even with no Facebook (*sniff*), I find that my time is readily filled with all kinds of projects, appointments, playdates, parties, homeschool planning, and assorted obligations. Yet my house still looks like a wreck. I am wondering why scientists haven't figured out a way to eradicate sleep... I mean, who needs it, really?
Anyway, life is great, if hectic, and I am excited to finally be able to write this blog and post it, even if it's in the wee hours of the morning and I have to get up in five hours. What could be so important, I hear you cry?
I am here to tell you that "All Dogs Go to Heaven 2" is the worst children's movie that I've seen in recent years... or possibly ever. Allow me to explain.
First of all, the original movie of "All Dogs Go to Heaven" is pretty good, as non-Disney animated films go. As I remember, despite flaws in the script, children appreciated the storyline. (All is redeemed when you find out that Burt Reynolds and Dom Deluise, two of the voice actors, actually ad-libbed most of their lines.) I mean, the film wasn't perfect, and it has some of the same issues as the sequel does, but I can't deny that it was a popular film when I was a kid, especially after it came out on video. Don Bluth generally directed terrific animated movies; who doesn't love the truly classic "An American Tail" or "The Land Before Time"? So I can definitely see the appeal. The movie was fine on its own. It didn't need or merit a sequel, but the studio did it, anyway, without Don Bluth as the director.
I had the opportunity to watch the sequel when a child at my house selected the movie on Hulu. [Warning: spoiler alert.] The basic, thin-as-paper premise is that two tough-but-good dogs (Charlie and Itchy), who live in heaven, are sent back to earth when "Gabriel's Horn" falls through the clouds. Heaven doesn't want the horn to fall into evil hands on earth, so it's imperative that Charlie and Itchy find it and bring it back. Along the way, the dogs meet other earthly dog friends (such as Sasha Le Fleur) and a scrappy little boy (David, with the requisite 1996 haircut) who ran away from home, and they help each other, et cetera. Adventures ensue and all is right in the end: the dogs find the horn and return to heaven, the bad guys (like villains Red and Carface) get their comeuppance, the little boy goes home, and all of the protagonists live happily ever after.
So what's so bad about that, I hear you ask? Well, I have a list.
1. Sexist and Sexy
The female dog characters are either angels (literally, like the top angel Annabelle) or dogs of ill repute (namely, Sasha Le Fleur). This is the old "Madonna-whore" dichotomy: there are good girls and bad girls, and that's it.
In particular, Sasha Le Fleur is an out-of-place character. She is like Jessica Rabbit (or perhaps Lucy from "Avenue Q"), except that this is a children's cartoon. The male dogs act like, well, dogs around her: they salivate, fight, float, swallow their cigars, spin on their chairs, throw their girlfriend's flowers, et cetera. I almost expected one of the dogs to stick a dollar bill in her collar. At the end of one scene, after Sasha rejects Charlie's advances, Charlie says his friend's name ("Itch") in such a way that I had to listen to it again to make sure that it wasn't another word. But maybe that's just me.
There was also a line about how Sasha thought that "breeding" would be a good quality for a partner to have, and Charlie responds that he would be good at that. That's no surprise, I guess, since Charlie is voiced by none other than Charlie Sheen. Sasha sings: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fOywt8FGurQ
Note that it's not that I have a problem with romance or sexy characters in movies, but I thought that the character was way over the top for a children's movie. In my research, I found a disturbing number of "sexy animated dog" videos that suggest that people have way too much time on their hands. (Like me, I guess, but I don't count.)
2. Cheap shots
In one scene, Gabriel's Horn lands in San Francisco, and the dogs exchange comments about how it's going to be a particular challenge (as San Francisco is the city of sin, of course, har har). In another scene, they need to get the cops out of the police station in order to obtain the confiscated horn, so someone yells that doughnuts are available, which sends the cops running outside in a frenzy to get the doughnuts.
These situations would be stock gags in an adult movie, but why put them in a children's movie? They were not there for my enjoyment, and the references would go over children's heads and serve to reinforce stereotypes. I can just picture my kids saying, "San Francisco must be where bad guys live." It's just unnecessary, that's all.
3. Scary as hell
It's hard to put into words how inappropriate some of the scenes would be for small children, even as the other references would completely miss them. It's pretty scary.
At the end of the film, the evil Red character - who uses former angel Carface as an accomplice and drags him down with him - goes beyond just being greedy. After Red obtains Gabriel's Horn, Red bends the gates of heaven and puts the angel dogs into cages on earth. Then he grows into a monstrous, powerful, merciless, Satanic figure and threatens not only the lives of the protagonists, but indeed the fate of all dogs. Take the Ursula water scene from the end of "The Little Mermaid" and combine it with Tim Curry's character in "Legend" and see what I mean.
Imagine that you're 4 or 5 years old, watching this scene:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hEMbJDu5e7U&feature=related
4. Bad theology
This is probably what I like the least about this movie. This reminds me of all of the oversimplistic plots that reinforce this idiotic idea that good guys go to heaven, bad guys go to hell, and yet heaven is a place where no cool guy really wants to be. Because being good is boring, as everyone knows.
None of these movies ever mention "God" in heaven - instead, they focus on harps, wings, clouds, white robes, and characters being really polite. They take out the spirituality part of it. To put it another way, it's like seeing the mock Eiffel Tower in Las Vegas.
But what sets this film apart is that the villain really is like Satan. He's a fallen angel who wants the power of heaven. He even looks like what we'd imagine Satan would look like. Pretty heavy stuff for a children's film, if you ask me. We also find out that all dogs DON'T go to heaven. Some of the dogs are actually shown going to doggie hell! I mean, what is the point of the movie? Perhaps it should be called "Good Dogs Go to Heaven, Which Is Boring as Hell"... even though Charlie gets another pass at life on earth.
Plus, I am a Universalist, so I believe that everyone goes to heaven. It's just not my kind of plot device.
5. Shoddy production
There were many inconsistencies in the animation, but that's one thing. Now, my favorite thing: at the very end of the film, when the boy David is reunited with his father and pregnant stepmother, the stepmother clearly says to David: "Having this baby doesn't mean I love you."
Hahahaha!!! Exactly.
Watch the mistake here, at 2:20: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ChEcbn4Vfcc
Watch the "All Dogs Go to Heaven 2" trailer here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xhC1xldem-U
Wiki article here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/All_Dogs_Go_to_Heaven_2
***[By the way, not to bring in something irreparably sad, but I felt I had to mention this. Judith Barsi, the child who voiced the main character "Anne-Marie" in the first "All Dogs Go to Heaven" also voiced the memorable "Ducky" character from "The Land Before Time" movie. Tragically, Judith was abused by her father for years, and she was murdered by him at the age of ten. It is for this reason that I can't bring myself to criticize the first movie as harshly... just doesn't seem right, somehow. I had no idea before I wrote this blog who Judith Barsi was, but now that I know, I am profoundly sad. I would recommend to you the documentary or tributes about her life, but honestly, I don't know if I have the strength to watch them again myself. But if you're interested, Google her name to read her story. Good Lord.]
Monday
April Fools Joke? U(terus) Decide.
I miss working for the Legislature so much. Unfortunately, me being at home means that I don't keep up with the daily floor debates like I used to do. The debates were sometimes passionate and emotional, sometimes dry and boring, and occasionally humorous. I was reading the political blogs tonight when I discovered this jaw-dropping gem.
http://www.tampabay.com/blogs/the-buzz-florida-politics/content/democrat-chastized-saying-uterus-house-floor#comments
Basically, during a debate about union dues, one of the Democratic legislators from the House used a flippant line that mentioned his wife's uterus. The Republican leadership chastised him on the floor for using that language, especially considering that the pages and messengers were present in the room, and some young members of the public could have been present in the gallery. Apparently, the Speaker found the language to be in violation of decorum.
Seriously, folks, it doesn't matter what your background, your party affiliation, or religious morals are. If you find the word "uterus" offensive to children, I am stunned. He said uterus! You know, the place where babies grow. He could have said any number of five-letter "P" words or other words that, I admit, could have run the gamut from distasteful to offensive, especially according to the standards of decorum on the House floor. But uterus? Seriously - uterus? Was this chastisement an early April Fools joke?
I can only think of the following possible explanations to this:
1. In the recent past, when abortion was being explicitly debated or discussed on the floor, House leadership (who overwhelmingly identify as pro-life) advised young members of the gallery, as well as the pages and messengers, to be leave the room during the debate because of the subject matter.
To my knowledge, stories told about violent crime episodes haven't historically received the same kind of sensitive treatment during House debates, but I could be wrong.
2. Perhaps House leadership was caught off-guard about the comparison to abortion, and didn't like it, and thus wanted to teach Rep. Randolph a lesson by taking him to task in public.
3. Perhaps some in the House believed that the phrase "if my wife's uterus was incorporated" is really a dirty, liberal slang term for sex.
I cannot otherwise believe that the House would seriously consider the word "uterus" to be for adults only. If these kids don't (or shouldn't) know what a uterus is, then our state is in bigger trouble than I thought.
I guess when my kids begin to study human anatomy, I will have to use the euphemism "womb" instead, so as not to offend them. (The Democratic Underground's website beat me to a list of anatomical euphemisms, but they are too offensive to link here, haha.)
Or perhaps their idea comes from this:
Yeah, I'd be scared of them uteruses, too, if I subscribed to this thought.
http://www.tampabay.com/blogs/the-buzz-florida-politics/content/democrat-chastized-saying-uterus-house-floor#comments
Basically, during a debate about union dues, one of the Democratic legislators from the House used a flippant line that mentioned his wife's uterus. The Republican leadership chastised him on the floor for using that language, especially considering that the pages and messengers were present in the room, and some young members of the public could have been present in the gallery. Apparently, the Speaker found the language to be in violation of decorum.
Seriously, folks, it doesn't matter what your background, your party affiliation, or religious morals are. If you find the word "uterus" offensive to children, I am stunned. He said uterus! You know, the place where babies grow. He could have said any number of five-letter "P" words or other words that, I admit, could have run the gamut from distasteful to offensive, especially according to the standards of decorum on the House floor. But uterus? Seriously - uterus? Was this chastisement an early April Fools joke?
I can only think of the following possible explanations to this:
1. In the recent past, when abortion was being explicitly debated or discussed on the floor, House leadership (who overwhelmingly identify as pro-life) advised young members of the gallery, as well as the pages and messengers, to be leave the room during the debate because of the subject matter.
To my knowledge, stories told about violent crime episodes haven't historically received the same kind of sensitive treatment during House debates, but I could be wrong.
2. Perhaps House leadership was caught off-guard about the comparison to abortion, and didn't like it, and thus wanted to teach Rep. Randolph a lesson by taking him to task in public.
3. Perhaps some in the House believed that the phrase "if my wife's uterus was incorporated" is really a dirty, liberal slang term for sex.
I cannot otherwise believe that the House would seriously consider the word "uterus" to be for adults only. If these kids don't (or shouldn't) know what a uterus is, then our state is in bigger trouble than I thought.
I guess when my kids begin to study human anatomy, I will have to use the euphemism "womb" instead, so as not to offend them. (The Democratic Underground's website beat me to a list of anatomical euphemisms, but they are too offensive to link here, haha.)
Or perhaps their idea comes from this:
from Aretaeus the Cappadocian Hippocratic writer of the second century CE “In the middle of the flanks of women lies the womb, a female viscus, closely resembling an animal; for it is moved of itself hither and thither in the flanks, also upwards in a direct line to below the cartilage of the thorax and also obliquely to the right or to the left, either to the liver or spleen; and it likewise is subject to falling downwards, and, in a word, it is altogether erratic. It delights, also, in fragrant smells, and advances towards them; and it has an aversion to fetid smells, and flees from them; and on the whole the womb is like an animal within an animal.” |
Yeah, I'd be scared of them uteruses, too, if I subscribed to this thought.
Tuesday
A Note for Victoria Jackson
For once, I am almost speechless. I just saw the interview on CNN with former "SNL" star Victoria Jackson where she discusses the liberal agenda as it pertains to homosexuality, Muslims, and the "sickening" gay kiss on the "Glee" television show. Ms. Jackson wrote about the kiss in her column and it caused a stir.
Note to readers: Ms. Jackson calls CNN the "Progressive Propaganda Channel" on her blog, but I guess it was okay to be interviewed by CNN in order to promote her column.
Note to readers: I will not call Ms. Jackson a bimbo. I will not call Ms. Jackson a jerk or an idiot or a racist or even a fundamentalist or a homophobe or a has-been. I don't think that name-calling gets us anywhere. That said, I will call her out on what she does.
I could talk/write for hours on how wrong I believe many of her words are, but I will just address one thing in today's blog post. She calls "two men on a wedding cake" a "comedy skit" that is "ridiculous"... and thinks that a gay kiss on television is sickening.
I am someone who knows several happily married gay couples who are responsible, loving parents and amazing members of the community. I think that Victoria Jackson and her fans should break from the rallies and actually meet a few people who are different, including gay couples. To say the very least.
I've never seen an episode of "Glee" myself; I guess I missed that page of my liberal instructional manual. However, as Ms. Jackson well knows, it's a free (read: Capitalist) country and this is what some people want to watch in a sitcom. Unless, of course, she wants us to be a Socialist country and only have state-run, squeaky clean television? I mean, television like this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ARSEUsCyWj0 You know, the kind that she got famous for and made her money from, and stuff like that.
Note to Victoria Jackson: I have a certified copy of the Liberal Agenda. One of its main precepts is to accept and affirm people's choice to love whom they wish and practice their religion as long as it hurts no one else. Imagine that. P.S. I am a Christian, too, and I read the same Bible, sweetie.
Here's the interview: http://www.cnn.com/video/#/video/showbiz/2011/03/22/sbt.victoria.jackson.hln?hpt=T2
Here's her website: http://www.victoriajackson.com/
Here's the column: http://www.wnd.com/index.php/index.php?pageId=276421
Note to readers: Ms. Jackson calls CNN the "Progressive Propaganda Channel" on her blog, but I guess it was okay to be interviewed by CNN in order to promote her column.
Note to readers: I will not call Ms. Jackson a bimbo. I will not call Ms. Jackson a jerk or an idiot or a racist or even a fundamentalist or a homophobe or a has-been. I don't think that name-calling gets us anywhere. That said, I will call her out on what she does.
I could talk/write for hours on how wrong I believe many of her words are, but I will just address one thing in today's blog post. She calls "two men on a wedding cake" a "comedy skit" that is "ridiculous"... and thinks that a gay kiss on television is sickening.
I am someone who knows several happily married gay couples who are responsible, loving parents and amazing members of the community. I think that Victoria Jackson and her fans should break from the rallies and actually meet a few people who are different, including gay couples. To say the very least.
I've never seen an episode of "Glee" myself; I guess I missed that page of my liberal instructional manual. However, as Ms. Jackson well knows, it's a free (read: Capitalist) country and this is what some people want to watch in a sitcom. Unless, of course, she wants us to be a Socialist country and only have state-run, squeaky clean television? I mean, television like this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ARSEUsCyWj0 You know, the kind that she got famous for and made her money from, and stuff like that.
Note to Victoria Jackson: I have a certified copy of the Liberal Agenda. One of its main precepts is to accept and affirm people's choice to love whom they wish and practice their religion as long as it hurts no one else. Imagine that. P.S. I am a Christian, too, and I read the same Bible, sweetie.
Here's the interview: http://www.cnn.com/video/#/video/showbiz/2011/03/22/sbt.victoria.jackson.hln?hpt=T2
Here's her website: http://www.victoriajackson.com/
Here's the column: http://www.wnd.com/index.php/index.php?pageId=276421
Sunday
Freedom From Fear
I am a fan of realistic fiction in both literature and in art, and one of my all-time favorite visual artists is Norman Rockwell. I've been to the Norman Rockwell Museum in Stockbridge, Massachusetts a couple of times, and the works never fail to impress me. Most may know him from his folksy Saturday Evening Post covers, but my favorite Rockwell paintings are the powerful ones, including the "Four Freedoms" series. For those who are not familiar with the series, more information is available here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Four_Freedoms_(Norman_Rockwell)
I was struck tonight by the news of the bombing of Libya and its parallels to the other allied actions that have taken place over the last century. On one hand, taking action is a necessary evil: violence that must be done to counteract violence against people. On the other hand, violence often begets more violence, and there will always be the question of whether we could have used more peaceful means to get the same result. I can see examples of both. If we don't fight against violence, we're damned. If we participate in violence, we're damned just the same. There are no winners here. Nevertheless, sometimes the sin of omission is worse than the sin of commission, so to speak, and to sit idly by while evil is being done is to condone it. It's sad how these things always turn political when those innocent people caught in the crossfire (literally) have no allegiance except to life.
But I digress... back to the freedoms bit.
Look at the Freedom from Fear painting of the American parents gently tucking their children into bed right after the Blitz. As I was tucking Lolly into bed tonight, knowing that her bed was the safest place for her, I had to stop to remember that for millions of people in the world, there is no security. Look at the tragedies in Japan and Libya, and all over the world, wherein parents cannot tuck their children into bed without worry. Even in our own country, how many families live in fear right now? How fortunate we few are right now to be reading this blog with the freedom from fear of imminent danger.
I'll end with the seventy-year-old speech excerpt that inspired the paintings:
I was struck tonight by the news of the bombing of Libya and its parallels to the other allied actions that have taken place over the last century. On one hand, taking action is a necessary evil: violence that must be done to counteract violence against people. On the other hand, violence often begets more violence, and there will always be the question of whether we could have used more peaceful means to get the same result. I can see examples of both. If we don't fight against violence, we're damned. If we participate in violence, we're damned just the same. There are no winners here. Nevertheless, sometimes the sin of omission is worse than the sin of commission, so to speak, and to sit idly by while evil is being done is to condone it. It's sad how these things always turn political when those innocent people caught in the crossfire (literally) have no allegiance except to life.
But I digress... back to the freedoms bit.
Look at the Freedom from Fear painting of the American parents gently tucking their children into bed right after the Blitz. As I was tucking Lolly into bed tonight, knowing that her bed was the safest place for her, I had to stop to remember that for millions of people in the world, there is no security. Look at the tragedies in Japan and Libya, and all over the world, wherein parents cannot tuck their children into bed without worry. Even in our own country, how many families live in fear right now? How fortunate we few are right now to be reading this blog with the freedom from fear of imminent danger.
I'll end with the seventy-year-old speech excerpt that inspired the paintings:
| "In the future days, which we seek to make secure, we look forward to a world founded upon four essential human freedoms. The first is freedom of speech and expression—everywhere in the world. The second is freedom of every person to worship God in his own way--everywhere in the world. The third is freedom from want—which, translated into world terms, means economic understandings which will secure to every nation a healthy peacetime life for its inhabitants—everywhere in the world. The fourth is freedom from fear—which, translated into world terms, means a world-wide reduction of armaments to such a point and in such a thorough fashion that no nation will be in a position to commit an act of physical aggression against any neighbor—anywhere in the world. That is no vision of a distant millennium. It is a definite basis for a kind of world attainable in our own time and generation. That kind of world is the very antithesis of the so-called new order of tyranny which the dictators seek to create with the crash of a bomb." | |
— Franklin D. Roosevelt, excerpted from the State of the Union Address to the Congress, January 6, 1941 |
Wednesday
The Cranky Idealist Being Cranky
Grrrr. My day has turned me from an Ed Bradley to an Andy Rooney. Why do these little annoyances, put together, have the power to ruin my mood?
1. When an organization insists that people must fax paperwork in order to complete an important process, why is it seemingly impossible to locate a fax number on the letter, the website, or the phone?
2. What happens when someone parks in a public lot and doesn't have the 25 cents needed to exit the lot? (Whoops!)
3. Why do so many drivers ignore road signs, like "yield" and "stop"?
4. Why do fancy coffee drinks have to cost so much?
5. Why did I have to roll the windows down with loose paper in the car, which allowed my husband's private financial information to fly out and land by the road somewhere? (Double whoops!)
Mantra for today: I need to watch the news and put this in perspective.
1. When an organization insists that people must fax paperwork in order to complete an important process, why is it seemingly impossible to locate a fax number on the letter, the website, or the phone?
2. What happens when someone parks in a public lot and doesn't have the 25 cents needed to exit the lot? (Whoops!)
3. Why do so many drivers ignore road signs, like "yield" and "stop"?
4. Why do fancy coffee drinks have to cost so much?
5. Why did I have to roll the windows down with loose paper in the car, which allowed my husband's private financial information to fly out and land by the road somewhere? (Double whoops!)
Mantra for today: I need to watch the news and put this in perspective.
True SAHM Confessions
I love being a parent. I really do. I love being a parent so much that I want to have a house full of children, homeschool them all the time, and enjoy every moment with them. I left work so that I could be home with my kids. I am living my dream, and I am extremely fortunate.
That said, I have my moments... those moments that are not my best when I just want to cry out about what I need. Allow me to illustrate:
1. "I need space!!!"
I sleep with my baby every night and nurse him throughout the day. I cuddle with my toddler and kindergartner several times throughout the day, and sometimes I sleep with them, as well. I am around my kids all the time; parenting can be a physically intensive job. Then there is that moment during the day when I just need some space. Like, when I just want to use the bathroom in peace, and I can hear one of my girls turning the bathroom door... or if I lock it for privacy, they start banging on the door and calling my name. Another time is when I am sitting down and I have not one but three kids who desperately want to sit in my lap at the same time. Really, I feel like a celebrity with fawning groupies, and I just vant to be alone for a few minutes.
2. "I need quiet!!!"
The concern with having verbally precocious children is that they talk all the time. Lolly even talks in her sleep! There is a constant buzz of either talking, banging, giggling, crying, whining, babbling, cooing, or the rare scream... and then the phone rings, of course. Sometimes in the car, my eyes glaze over as I have to tune out the constant buzz of noise just to get us safely to our destination. It's not that I expect the kids to stop making noise - even if that were possible - but I just need some quiet time.
3. "I need money!!!"
Well, not really. I don't need it, but it would be nice. Children themselves really don't cost much money. I mean, it costs money to feed them, clothe them, diaper them, and insure them, but really, those things can be pretty inexpensive if we choose wisely. The spending frenzy comes with all of those optional things. For me, my weaknesses are photos, secondhand toys and books, camps and classes, and birthday parties. I have spent an embarrassing amount of money on these extras, and keep in mind that I don't even buy new toys or clothes for my kids. Even the little kid snacks at the store really add up, and I don't have the energy to make alphabet soup from scratch. Most of the stuff I buy is for the convenience factor, but some of it is just silly and wasteful, and I am ashamed. That said, if we're ever going to travel by plane, remember that we'll have to buy at least five tickets. That's where money could come in handy.
4. "I need time with my husband!!!"
This is an overlooked biggie. My husband and I have had dates every nine months (insert joke here), but I would love to just have an hour every week to have an uninterrupted cup of coffee or tea with him. I feel like we're coworkers rather than spouses sometimes... albeit coworkers with huge crushes on each other. Can't I just invite the husband over to my cubicle?
5. "I need to feel pretty!!!"
Okay, I'll admit it: I am one of those moms who has totally let herself go. I don't mind it as much as I thought I would, but once in awhile, I think wistfully that I am in my thirties, and I will never, ever be a bombshell. I've got the requisite flabby stomach, stretch marks (which my oldest once dubbed as "tiger stripes"), mottled skin, and my hair is in such poor shape that it looks like failed dreads. I can't believe that I once used to wear swimsuits... like, for pictures, even. I would like to take more time to look at least as gorgeous as the other moms I know. Or at least I could shave my legs this year.
Love, the Mom
P.S. For more mommy confessions, click on these links:
http://www.cnn.com/2011/LIVING/03/14/parenting.not.always.peachy/index.html
http://thestir.cafemom.com/baby/116998/lesson_12_working_moms_vs
That said, I have my moments... those moments that are not my best when I just want to cry out about what I need. Allow me to illustrate:
1. "I need space!!!"
I sleep with my baby every night and nurse him throughout the day. I cuddle with my toddler and kindergartner several times throughout the day, and sometimes I sleep with them, as well. I am around my kids all the time; parenting can be a physically intensive job. Then there is that moment during the day when I just need some space. Like, when I just want to use the bathroom in peace, and I can hear one of my girls turning the bathroom door... or if I lock it for privacy, they start banging on the door and calling my name. Another time is when I am sitting down and I have not one but three kids who desperately want to sit in my lap at the same time. Really, I feel like a celebrity with fawning groupies, and I just vant to be alone for a few minutes.
2. "I need quiet!!!"
The concern with having verbally precocious children is that they talk all the time. Lolly even talks in her sleep! There is a constant buzz of either talking, banging, giggling, crying, whining, babbling, cooing, or the rare scream... and then the phone rings, of course. Sometimes in the car, my eyes glaze over as I have to tune out the constant buzz of noise just to get us safely to our destination. It's not that I expect the kids to stop making noise - even if that were possible - but I just need some quiet time.
3. "I need money!!!"
Well, not really. I don't need it, but it would be nice. Children themselves really don't cost much money. I mean, it costs money to feed them, clothe them, diaper them, and insure them, but really, those things can be pretty inexpensive if we choose wisely. The spending frenzy comes with all of those optional things. For me, my weaknesses are photos, secondhand toys and books, camps and classes, and birthday parties. I have spent an embarrassing amount of money on these extras, and keep in mind that I don't even buy new toys or clothes for my kids. Even the little kid snacks at the store really add up, and I don't have the energy to make alphabet soup from scratch. Most of the stuff I buy is for the convenience factor, but some of it is just silly and wasteful, and I am ashamed. That said, if we're ever going to travel by plane, remember that we'll have to buy at least five tickets. That's where money could come in handy.
4. "I need time with my husband!!!"
This is an overlooked biggie. My husband and I have had dates every nine months (insert joke here), but I would love to just have an hour every week to have an uninterrupted cup of coffee or tea with him. I feel like we're coworkers rather than spouses sometimes... albeit coworkers with huge crushes on each other. Can't I just invite the husband over to my cubicle?
5. "I need to feel pretty!!!"
Okay, I'll admit it: I am one of those moms who has totally let herself go. I don't mind it as much as I thought I would, but once in awhile, I think wistfully that I am in my thirties, and I will never, ever be a bombshell. I've got the requisite flabby stomach, stretch marks (which my oldest once dubbed as "tiger stripes"), mottled skin, and my hair is in such poor shape that it looks like failed dreads. I can't believe that I once used to wear swimsuits... like, for pictures, even. I would like to take more time to look at least as gorgeous as the other moms I know. Or at least I could shave my legs this year.
Love, the Mom
P.S. For more mommy confessions, click on these links:
http://www.cnn.com/2011/LIVING/03/14/parenting.not.always.peachy/index.html
http://thestir.cafemom.com/baby/116998/lesson_12_working_moms_vs
Monday
Goody-Goody
I've done a lot of volunteer work in my life - not as much as some people, never as much as I should - but I've done enough of it to list it as one of my hobbies. Anyone who's ever volunteered knows these things:
1. Volunteering feels good. Even just wanting to help others is a sign of a healthy life. Most people who volunteer for one cause are willing to volunteer for other causes. (Charities know this, and this is why donating to one organization can put you on the mailing lists for other organizations forever!) Another perk about volunteer work is that you can develop skills for your career or hobby that will enhance your resume and/or teach you new things.
2. Volunteering can be challenging; you can feel overwhelmed, bored, helpless, taken advantage of, et cetera, depending on the situation. A bad volunteer experience can make you not want to volunteer again.
With this in mind, I checked out a book from the library called "Everyone Helps, Everyone Wins: How Absolutely Anyone Can Pitch In, Help Out, Give Back, and Make the World a Better Place." While it's not yet the kind of book that I make my loved ones read (Dale Carnegie's "How to Win Friends and Influence People," or anything by Anne Lamott, Stephen King, or Flannery O'Connor), I think it's a great book with much to say. As soon as I am done with it, check it out from the library!
The point that I would like to make is that anyone can do volunteer work, and you can decide how much time, effort, money, talent that you put into a cause. It's under your control! You can choose where to go, whom or what to help, and for how long. Isn't that liberating? The best part is that you can know that you are making a difference, however small, and that you are appreciated, if not by those you help, then at least by the cosmos.
You can choose to do something as time-consuming and monumental as working for the Peace Corps or starting your own foundation, or you can do something as quick, easy, and non-committal as picking up trash on your morning walk, writing a letter, or putting an item in the food donation box at the grocery store. The aim is not to outdo yourself or to stress out over volunteering, but to make a volunteering a steady habit in your life, in whatever form you choose. If you don't have money, give time. If you don't have time, give money. If you don't have either, then start with something small.
If you're looking for new opportunities for volunteer work, I highly recommend the website VolunteerMatch.org. It's fantastic. It matches your availability and interests with the kinds of volunteer work needed. (Did you know that there is even "virtual" volunteer work for those who can't travel to a site?) Go there today and see what opportunities might interest you!
At the very least, I'd like to say that even donating $10 to the Red Cross is something very, very good. So please, do a little, give a little back, pay it forward. Feel free to share your do-gooding stories on here!
1. Volunteering feels good. Even just wanting to help others is a sign of a healthy life. Most people who volunteer for one cause are willing to volunteer for other causes. (Charities know this, and this is why donating to one organization can put you on the mailing lists for other organizations forever!) Another perk about volunteer work is that you can develop skills for your career or hobby that will enhance your resume and/or teach you new things.
2. Volunteering can be challenging; you can feel overwhelmed, bored, helpless, taken advantage of, et cetera, depending on the situation. A bad volunteer experience can make you not want to volunteer again.
With this in mind, I checked out a book from the library called "Everyone Helps, Everyone Wins: How Absolutely Anyone Can Pitch In, Help Out, Give Back, and Make the World a Better Place." While it's not yet the kind of book that I make my loved ones read (Dale Carnegie's "How to Win Friends and Influence People," or anything by Anne Lamott, Stephen King, or Flannery O'Connor), I think it's a great book with much to say. As soon as I am done with it, check it out from the library!
The point that I would like to make is that anyone can do volunteer work, and you can decide how much time, effort, money, talent that you put into a cause. It's under your control! You can choose where to go, whom or what to help, and for how long. Isn't that liberating? The best part is that you can know that you are making a difference, however small, and that you are appreciated, if not by those you help, then at least by the cosmos.
You can choose to do something as time-consuming and monumental as working for the Peace Corps or starting your own foundation, or you can do something as quick, easy, and non-committal as picking up trash on your morning walk, writing a letter, or putting an item in the food donation box at the grocery store. The aim is not to outdo yourself or to stress out over volunteering, but to make a volunteering a steady habit in your life, in whatever form you choose. If you don't have money, give time. If you don't have time, give money. If you don't have either, then start with something small.
If you're looking for new opportunities for volunteer work, I highly recommend the website VolunteerMatch.org. It's fantastic. It matches your availability and interests with the kinds of volunteer work needed. (Did you know that there is even "virtual" volunteer work for those who can't travel to a site?) Go there today and see what opportunities might interest you!
At the very least, I'd like to say that even donating $10 to the Red Cross is something very, very good. So please, do a little, give a little back, pay it forward. Feel free to share your do-gooding stories on here!
People Are Dying in the World, and I am Sad about Facebook?
Further thoughts on "leaving" Facebook...
1. This is silly. I was sneezing this morning, and my first thought was that I should post that as a Facebook status update. At no time before Facebook existed did I ever feel like my sneezing (or other bodily functions, for that matter) needed to be shared with all of my friends. However, I now yearn for that kinship.
2. This is hard. I was shopping on Saturday when I ran into some real-life friends, several of whom are on my Facebook friends list. We only spoke for a moment, and I thought, Well, I'll just message them on Facebook later to say hello. Then, knowing that I didn't have that option, I actually went back to them before I left the building to say goodbye. (Did I mention that I am terrible at saying goodbye?)
3. This isn't exactly working. Even though I am off Facebook - posting this blog or responding to people via email doesn't count - I am still spending way too much time online. The other night, I spent hours reading other people's blogs after my family had gone to bed. My unhappy husband woke up and wondered what I was doing in the wee hours of the morning. Apparently, I have replaced Facebook with other screen time.
I feel like Facebook is coffee, and this blog is hot cocoa. Last night, I had a delicious cup of hot cocoa, when what I really wanted was coffee. However, a warm, sweet drink does the trick... for now.
4. What in the heck did people do before social networking? Well, we called people on the telephone, we wrote directly to them (even email, now passe, counts toward that), and we visited them in person whenever possible. However, sites like Facebook make that so much easier. Unfortunately, with or without three kids, I don't have time to visit my hundreds of friends who live in town, much less those who live out of the state or out of the country. When I post to Facebook (or ideally, when I respond to others, since that is more social than narcissistic), I can connect with people with a push of a button.
Facebook isn't bad... look at how it contributes to democracy and the unity of all people. There, I said it.
I might take the kids for a walk today, after my 5-year-old posts to her blog.
1. This is silly. I was sneezing this morning, and my first thought was that I should post that as a Facebook status update. At no time before Facebook existed did I ever feel like my sneezing (or other bodily functions, for that matter) needed to be shared with all of my friends. However, I now yearn for that kinship.
2. This is hard. I was shopping on Saturday when I ran into some real-life friends, several of whom are on my Facebook friends list. We only spoke for a moment, and I thought, Well, I'll just message them on Facebook later to say hello. Then, knowing that I didn't have that option, I actually went back to them before I left the building to say goodbye. (Did I mention that I am terrible at saying goodbye?)
3. This isn't exactly working. Even though I am off Facebook - posting this blog or responding to people via email doesn't count - I am still spending way too much time online. The other night, I spent hours reading other people's blogs after my family had gone to bed. My unhappy husband woke up and wondered what I was doing in the wee hours of the morning. Apparently, I have replaced Facebook with other screen time.
I feel like Facebook is coffee, and this blog is hot cocoa. Last night, I had a delicious cup of hot cocoa, when what I really wanted was coffee. However, a warm, sweet drink does the trick... for now.
4. What in the heck did people do before social networking? Well, we called people on the telephone, we wrote directly to them (even email, now passe, counts toward that), and we visited them in person whenever possible. However, sites like Facebook make that so much easier. Unfortunately, with or without three kids, I don't have time to visit my hundreds of friends who live in town, much less those who live out of the state or out of the country. When I post to Facebook (or ideally, when I respond to others, since that is more social than narcissistic), I can connect with people with a push of a button.
Facebook isn't bad... look at how it contributes to democracy and the unity of all people. There, I said it.
I might take the kids for a walk today, after my 5-year-old posts to her blog.
Saturday
The Unbearable Casualness of Life
One night this past week, I stayed awake until 5 am, worried about a few things besides money, crime, nuclear war, world peace, and my family troubles, which always worry me. That's a given.
First of all, what's with the earthquakes? New Zealand had the earthquake last month, and now, Japan's citizens are suffering from the effects of an earthquake and a tsunami. I watched news clips of people in Japan trying, in vain, to escape the rising ocean floodwaters. I felt so helpless. Why on earth was I worried about celebrity gossip when there were people who were literally running for their lives?
Humans committing evil against other humans is something that I've gradually and grudgingly accepted. But nature turning violent? Why does this happen? Why are some populations in the world disproportionately affected by natural disasters, while others are fine for generations? (I've been feeling like a cross between Jerry Seinfeld and Insane Clown Posse lately. Freaking earthquakes: how do they work?)
I also witnessed a small incident this week that made me feel helpless and very sad. [Due to the small size of my hometown, I won't give the details of where I was.] To make a long story short, my 7-month-old found himself with a duckling in front of him. He suddenly grabbed it by its wing and began shaking it like a rag doll. Obviously, Ola had no idea that he was hurting the animal, and it was immediately taken away from him. The duckling lay quietly in the grass, on its side.
I checked on the duckling. It did not look good. I believe that Ola either killed it or hurt it pretty bad, and I was horrified. Eventually, the duckling was placed into a box. There was something so profoundly sad to know that a duckling, which had lived its short life as a mail-order prop, would be maimed by a child who didn't even know what it was. Lolly asked if it were sleeping, and coward that I am, I just played along. I felt cold shame.
First of all, what's with the earthquakes? New Zealand had the earthquake last month, and now, Japan's citizens are suffering from the effects of an earthquake and a tsunami. I watched news clips of people in Japan trying, in vain, to escape the rising ocean floodwaters. I felt so helpless. Why on earth was I worried about celebrity gossip when there were people who were literally running for their lives?
Humans committing evil against other humans is something that I've gradually and grudgingly accepted. But nature turning violent? Why does this happen? Why are some populations in the world disproportionately affected by natural disasters, while others are fine for generations? (I've been feeling like a cross between Jerry Seinfeld and Insane Clown Posse lately. Freaking earthquakes: how do they work?)
I also witnessed a small incident this week that made me feel helpless and very sad. [Due to the small size of my hometown, I won't give the details of where I was.] To make a long story short, my 7-month-old found himself with a duckling in front of him. He suddenly grabbed it by its wing and began shaking it like a rag doll. Obviously, Ola had no idea that he was hurting the animal, and it was immediately taken away from him. The duckling lay quietly in the grass, on its side.
I checked on the duckling. It did not look good. I believe that Ola either killed it or hurt it pretty bad, and I was horrified. Eventually, the duckling was placed into a box. There was something so profoundly sad to know that a duckling, which had lived its short life as a mail-order prop, would be maimed by a child who didn't even know what it was. Lolly asked if it were sleeping, and coward that I am, I just played along. I felt cold shame.
...Contrast all of this worldly sadness with good times and the ephemera of humor on a good day. I had a fun day out with two of my dearest girlfriends today; we had breakfast, got our nails done, and went shopping. Later, relatives came over to visit with the kids, and my husband made a delicious dinner, which was shared with them. It was an easy, fun day with no problems. My biggest choice was deciding what color I would have painted on my fingernails. (I chose blue.) My biggest concern was that I had to miss celebrating the birthday of a friend. How fortunate I am. How fortunate I am.
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| We all had a good laugh today at what my grandmother, who is a coupon fanatic, decided to give to us, to be helpful. |
With gratitude for what we enjoy...
Friday
Darn you, Mark Zuckerberg. Darn you all to heck.
Hello, everyone! It's been ages since I last posted a blog. I am especially eager to write again because I've given up Facebook for the entirety of Lent. That's right: no status updates, no debates, no picture comments, no "Happy birthdays" or anything substantive on there during the entire forty days. Cold turkey!
By the way, for a great article on this very subject: http://www.kansascity.com/2011/03/09/2710193/some-choose-to-give-up-facebook.html
Here are my observations about giving up Facebook, so far:
1. I am still just as busy ("occupied" might be the better word) as always! Apparently, I am finding ways to fill my time, even if those ways aren't related to Facebook... writing this blog is one way. I was hoping that this wouldn't be the case, and that I would magically find that there were more hours added to the day. Haha!
Giving up Facebook time doesn't mean giving up computer time. I still have plenty of emails to respond to and send out; homeschool stuff to organize and record; and little bits of church, financial, and personal business that take some time on the computer. Of course, I have my Wiki and Slate browsing habits, blog reading, news junkie time, and the occasional "Real Housewives" episode to watch on Hulu or old music videos to watch on YouTube. I don't think that God intended me to fill my mind with that at Lent, but I am weak, and there it is.
2. I realize how much I thought of my everyday life in Facebook terms. (Yes, that is as scary as it sounds.) For example, with almost every article I read, I think, "I'd like to share that with my friends on Facebook and find out what they think." I also remember little bits of conversations that I've had with people, either online or in person, and I want to follow-up with a Facebook comment. Most tellingly, I find myself thinking of "clever" status updates that I'd love to post, about everything from sweeping the floor to the so-called Mommy Wars. All of this will go by the wayside for the next 40 days. However, the fact that I plan to post this very blog on my Facebook account for my friends to read pretty much says it all.
3. I've had lots of friends sympathize with me. That either means that there are many fellow Facebook addicts, or that my friends realize that I have this awful addiction, and they are glad to see me seeking treatment. (They tried to make me get off Facebook, and I said: no, no, no!)
4. Speaking of my friends, they actually deserve your sympathy! The reason is because I've been talking like crazy to people. I saw a few friends today at the park, and I couldn't stop talking to them! Even my beloved aunt had to do the polite, saying goodbye at the door, backing-away-because-I-need-to-leave thing. It's like I am bursting with things to share, Facebook or not, and I am hungry for adult conversation. To my friends who've endured this: my apologies.
If you really want to know the impact of my Facebook time, I can illustrate it in one sentence. Recently, Lolly and I were having a conversation, and she said to me, "Mommy, I asked you for help, and you didn't help me because you were on Facebook."
Bam. Right there. My priority is my family, and here I was, allowing a social networking site, of all things, to take over my time. That is a sign that I need to stop and reevaluate my priorities. (Thank you, Lent, for providing a structured, motivating time for doing this!) Yes, I need a social life. Yes, Facebook is a great tool for that. However, I can't justify one missed moment with my kids on account of that. I can't. Perhaps this break during Lent will allow me to see how I can use Facebook in moderation, like normal people do.
Honestly, this site? http://www.avoidfacebook.com/
Sounds like a bunch of Luddites put on paper hats and went to the mountaintop. With laptops.
Facebook is neither good nor evil in itself; it's a tool that people can use. People can choose to use it wisely or unwisely. It's my responsibility to use it wisely, and not to let it control my life... same thing with every other pleasure in life (coffee, junk food, sex, kids, Disney World).
Mark Zuckerberg, I guess you're off the hook for now. It's only been two days. I think I'll live.
P.S. If you're reading this: thank you. *sniff*
By the way, for a great article on this very subject: http://www.kansascity.com/2011/03/09/2710193/some-choose-to-give-up-facebook.html
Here are my observations about giving up Facebook, so far:
1. I am still just as busy ("occupied" might be the better word) as always! Apparently, I am finding ways to fill my time, even if those ways aren't related to Facebook... writing this blog is one way. I was hoping that this wouldn't be the case, and that I would magically find that there were more hours added to the day. Haha!
Giving up Facebook time doesn't mean giving up computer time. I still have plenty of emails to respond to and send out; homeschool stuff to organize and record; and little bits of church, financial, and personal business that take some time on the computer. Of course, I have my Wiki and Slate browsing habits, blog reading, news junkie time, and the occasional "Real Housewives" episode to watch on Hulu or old music videos to watch on YouTube. I don't think that God intended me to fill my mind with that at Lent, but I am weak, and there it is.
2. I realize how much I thought of my everyday life in Facebook terms. (Yes, that is as scary as it sounds.) For example, with almost every article I read, I think, "I'd like to share that with my friends on Facebook and find out what they think." I also remember little bits of conversations that I've had with people, either online or in person, and I want to follow-up with a Facebook comment. Most tellingly, I find myself thinking of "clever" status updates that I'd love to post, about everything from sweeping the floor to the so-called Mommy Wars. All of this will go by the wayside for the next 40 days. However, the fact that I plan to post this very blog on my Facebook account for my friends to read pretty much says it all.
3. I've had lots of friends sympathize with me. That either means that there are many fellow Facebook addicts, or that my friends realize that I have this awful addiction, and they are glad to see me seeking treatment. (They tried to make me get off Facebook, and I said: no, no, no!)
4. Speaking of my friends, they actually deserve your sympathy! The reason is because I've been talking like crazy to people. I saw a few friends today at the park, and I couldn't stop talking to them! Even my beloved aunt had to do the polite, saying goodbye at the door, backing-away-because-I-need-to-leave thing. It's like I am bursting with things to share, Facebook or not, and I am hungry for adult conversation. To my friends who've endured this: my apologies.
If you really want to know the impact of my Facebook time, I can illustrate it in one sentence. Recently, Lolly and I were having a conversation, and she said to me, "Mommy, I asked you for help, and you didn't help me because you were on Facebook."
Bam. Right there. My priority is my family, and here I was, allowing a social networking site, of all things, to take over my time. That is a sign that I need to stop and reevaluate my priorities. (Thank you, Lent, for providing a structured, motivating time for doing this!) Yes, I need a social life. Yes, Facebook is a great tool for that. However, I can't justify one missed moment with my kids on account of that. I can't. Perhaps this break during Lent will allow me to see how I can use Facebook in moderation, like normal people do.
Honestly, this site? http://www.avoidfacebook.com/
Sounds like a bunch of Luddites put on paper hats and went to the mountaintop. With laptops.
Facebook is neither good nor evil in itself; it's a tool that people can use. People can choose to use it wisely or unwisely. It's my responsibility to use it wisely, and not to let it control my life... same thing with every other pleasure in life (coffee, junk food, sex, kids, Disney World).
Mark Zuckerberg, I guess you're off the hook for now. It's only been two days. I think I'll live.
P.S. If you're reading this: thank you. *sniff*
My Kid Is Freaking Me Out
My 5-year-old is officially freaking me out. It's not just that she eats chapter books for breakfast, or that she has finished the first and second grade science and social studies curriculum in our online program, or the fact that she has been able to name and identify all fifty states for months, and so on and so forth. We took the state practice exam for 2nd grade, and she scored about 90% on the math sections... without first doing the exercises. Last fall, she read at an independent third-grade level.
Really, it's her curiosity and passion for learning that freaks me out. She wants to know everything. She's curious about every animal, every country, every war. In the past day, I've received questions like, "Is Santa Claus real? ...Because the ancient Greeks and Egyptians didn't believe in Santa." She wants to know about everything from how clouds taste to how we could repair the Liberty Bell to what my friends are saying on Facebook.
She also doesn't give up. My husband and I joke that she has Attention Surplus Disorder, because she won't stop doing particular tasks until she's mastered them. For example, she had difficulty in learning how to tell time on an analog clock, so she worked on workbook pages, talked about clocks, changed the hands herself, and so forth. Finally, she would ask me questions wherever we went. "When the hour hand is past the two, and the minute hand is on the three, does that mean it's 2:15 now?" She eventually got it, through her own drive.
She also learns quickly. Today, she was practicing piano, and she came to a new song where she had to play the melody with her right hand while holding down the harmony notes with her left hand, and the beats were different. She seemed out of her depth, so I kind of shrugged and told her that she did fine practicing, that she didn't have to worry about that song. She practiced a few more times tonight, and she played the whole song.
Lest you think that I am another version of the Tiger Mother, I can assure you that Lolly has more free time than most kids. We do formal lessons for only a couple of hours a day. On days like today, we played at two different playgrounds with friends, so no formal lessons were done. I do make three musts for each "school day": she needs to do silent reading, practice her piano, and play outside. Everything else these days is unplanned before the day begins - and thus, optional.
I am trying to figure out what to do from here. I also have many thoughts, such as:
Is she truly gifted (of her own nature) or "hothoused" (pushed to learn)?
If she were to ever enter a regular school, could she advance 1-2 grades? If so, should she?
Will this rate of learning eventually plateau, leaving her feeling insecure because she sees herself in terms of her academic abilities?
Am I neglecting another part of her life? Or am I neglecting my other kids without knowing it?
What does this mean for her future? Can she get college scholarships? What if she doesn't want college?
Finally, is there anyone I can talk to about this without annoying the person to death (besides my husband)?
Overall, Lolly is a happy-go-lucky, very sweet, spiritual kid who plays well with 2-year-olds and 12-year-olds alike. She has lots of resources and good friends, and most of all, the attention and support of her parents. She enjoys learning, and I can only hope it will continue.
Really, it's her curiosity and passion for learning that freaks me out. She wants to know everything. She's curious about every animal, every country, every war. In the past day, I've received questions like, "Is Santa Claus real? ...Because the ancient Greeks and Egyptians didn't believe in Santa." She wants to know about everything from how clouds taste to how we could repair the Liberty Bell to what my friends are saying on Facebook.
She also doesn't give up. My husband and I joke that she has Attention Surplus Disorder, because she won't stop doing particular tasks until she's mastered them. For example, she had difficulty in learning how to tell time on an analog clock, so she worked on workbook pages, talked about clocks, changed the hands herself, and so forth. Finally, she would ask me questions wherever we went. "When the hour hand is past the two, and the minute hand is on the three, does that mean it's 2:15 now?" She eventually got it, through her own drive.
She also learns quickly. Today, she was practicing piano, and she came to a new song where she had to play the melody with her right hand while holding down the harmony notes with her left hand, and the beats were different. She seemed out of her depth, so I kind of shrugged and told her that she did fine practicing, that she didn't have to worry about that song. She practiced a few more times tonight, and she played the whole song.
Lest you think that I am another version of the Tiger Mother, I can assure you that Lolly has more free time than most kids. We do formal lessons for only a couple of hours a day. On days like today, we played at two different playgrounds with friends, so no formal lessons were done. I do make three musts for each "school day": she needs to do silent reading, practice her piano, and play outside. Everything else these days is unplanned before the day begins - and thus, optional.
I am trying to figure out what to do from here. I also have many thoughts, such as:
Is she truly gifted (of her own nature) or "hothoused" (pushed to learn)?
If she were to ever enter a regular school, could she advance 1-2 grades? If so, should she?
Will this rate of learning eventually plateau, leaving her feeling insecure because she sees herself in terms of her academic abilities?
Am I neglecting another part of her life? Or am I neglecting my other kids without knowing it?
What does this mean for her future? Can she get college scholarships? What if she doesn't want college?
Finally, is there anyone I can talk to about this without annoying the person to death (besides my husband)?
Overall, Lolly is a happy-go-lucky, very sweet, spiritual kid who plays well with 2-year-olds and 12-year-olds alike. She has lots of resources and good friends, and most of all, the attention and support of her parents. She enjoys learning, and I can only hope it will continue.
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| We told her that she could read before bed... |
Wednesday
The Ups and Downs of Homeschooling
We started officially homeschooling our 5-year-old daughter this past fall, and I've been reflecting on what has worked for our family, what the consequences have been, and what I need to do better. Please read the "Why We Homeschool" page on this blog to find out more about our original reasons for homeschooling.
We began homeschooling our daughter ("Lolly") before her fifth birthday, shortly before she was due to begin kindergarten with her friends from her former preschool. Our baby boy ("Ola") was born by C-section the same month; we also have a toddler girl ("Toot-Toot") at home. So, I went from being a working-full-time supervisor with two kids to being a stay-at-home, homeschooling mother of three kids in about a week's time. I had all three kids at home with me as I recovered from the C-section, so needless to say, we got off to a slow start with homeschooling.
Over the first couple of weeks, I was overwhelmed with hormones, exhaustion, and a lack of confidence. I began to wonder if we had made the best choice. I asked Lolly if she was happy to be homeschooled, and she said that it was fine for kindergarten, but she couldn't wait to go to "real" school in first grade. When I pressed her as to why, she said that it was because she wanted to ride the school bus, eat fun lunches, and get a new backpack, like her friends. While I couldn't help her with the school bus request, I did try to make some fun lunches, and I had her help me buy school supplies for the year, so that she could take part in this underrated rite of passage. It has also helped for us to have regular playdates with her friends from preschool, most of whom have gone on to kindergarten.
I decided to go with an eclectic mix of curriculum: a combination of workbooks, computer tutorials, projects, outside classes, and semi-unschooling with assorted games, playtime, and real-life activities. The electicism is partly because I like being creative with school, partly because I'm too cheap to buy a packaged deal, and partly because I don't like following schedules. (Flexibility was one of our main reasons for homeschooling in the first place, so why make a rigid homeschooling plan?) In addition, it's often easier for me to go back and count one of Lolly's self-led activities as a homeschool activity than it is to plan something and not know what it will become. I guess that's where the "unschooling" part comes into play. Both my husband and I are pretty committed to traditional academics, and we're pro-assessment, so we wouldn't feel comfortable with complete unschooling. However, I like to take a little bit of everything - the stuff that works - and fit it into what we're trying to do, rather than commit to something that works in concept but not in practice. (Childrearing is one of the few areas in which the Cranky Idealist is the Happy Pragmatist!)
Fortunately for me, Lolly is a naturally curious and eager student, which makes teaching her very easy. She is committed, patient, and motivated to continue to do better. Honestly, if her personality were resistant to structured learning, I am not sure what homeschooling plan we'd follow. I do worry that I am not able to give her the time and attention she deserves every day, as our lessons and projects are often interrupted by the demands of two diapered little ones. This also means that I am hesistant to do things like start at science experiment or do a library day if I know that Ola might cry or that Toot-Toot might have a meltdown. I feel like Lolly might be doing even higher-level, in-depth work if only I had a few more uninterrupted hours to spend with her each day. Too often, I have to send her away to do her work independently, because I have other urgent needs to fulfill. Independence is a valuable trait/skill to have, of course, but sometimes I feel that she needs me and I simply don't have enough of "me" to give to her. The same goes for Toot-Toot, whom we are also teaching, albeit in a less formal sense.
Another consequence of homeschooling vs. sending Lolly to school (and of being the mother to three young children) is that I don't get a break during the day. Lolly is a talkative, social child, and because she is home with me most of the time, I am her playmate, her teacher, and her mother, all rolled into one, during almost all waking hours. I went from complaining about not getting enough time to spend with my children to being around them all the time. It's been an adjustment for me, but kids are only young once, and getting to be with my children every day is a privilege that not every mother is able to have. (As for the concerns about socialization, rest assured that my children have a busy social life with several close friends, and they get to interact with dozens of their peers on a weekly basis.)
One of the biggest anxieties I have, though, is that I will fail my children in some area. It's like thinking that they'll go to college without learning to tie their shoes. I worry that I won't be enough for them, or that others will judge me or my children more harshly if they fail at something. After all, if my kids fall behind academically in some way, I can't blame a bad school or a personality conflict; I can only blame myself. I don't anticipate anything negative, but I do feel like the pressure is real. I can feel myself pushing Lolly to do more challenging work, in part out of my own insecurities. This is the part that I do not like.
That said, I feel like challenges can inspire learning, and learning is, in itself, exciting. Charlotte might have never guessed that her multiplication tables (for example) would be useful to learn until she was exposed to them and shown how they can help her delve more deeply into other interests. It is my job to expose, to record, and to guide... and I hope I can inspire in the process.
Plus, in what other job would I get to stay in my pajamas and cuddle my children anytime I wanted? Verdict: I am enjoying it!
We began homeschooling our daughter ("Lolly") before her fifth birthday, shortly before she was due to begin kindergarten with her friends from her former preschool. Our baby boy ("Ola") was born by C-section the same month; we also have a toddler girl ("Toot-Toot") at home. So, I went from being a working-full-time supervisor with two kids to being a stay-at-home, homeschooling mother of three kids in about a week's time. I had all three kids at home with me as I recovered from the C-section, so needless to say, we got off to a slow start with homeschooling.
Over the first couple of weeks, I was overwhelmed with hormones, exhaustion, and a lack of confidence. I began to wonder if we had made the best choice. I asked Lolly if she was happy to be homeschooled, and she said that it was fine for kindergarten, but she couldn't wait to go to "real" school in first grade. When I pressed her as to why, she said that it was because she wanted to ride the school bus, eat fun lunches, and get a new backpack, like her friends. While I couldn't help her with the school bus request, I did try to make some fun lunches, and I had her help me buy school supplies for the year, so that she could take part in this underrated rite of passage. It has also helped for us to have regular playdates with her friends from preschool, most of whom have gone on to kindergarten.
I decided to go with an eclectic mix of curriculum: a combination of workbooks, computer tutorials, projects, outside classes, and semi-unschooling with assorted games, playtime, and real-life activities. The electicism is partly because I like being creative with school, partly because I'm too cheap to buy a packaged deal, and partly because I don't like following schedules. (Flexibility was one of our main reasons for homeschooling in the first place, so why make a rigid homeschooling plan?) In addition, it's often easier for me to go back and count one of Lolly's self-led activities as a homeschool activity than it is to plan something and not know what it will become. I guess that's where the "unschooling" part comes into play. Both my husband and I are pretty committed to traditional academics, and we're pro-assessment, so we wouldn't feel comfortable with complete unschooling. However, I like to take a little bit of everything - the stuff that works - and fit it into what we're trying to do, rather than commit to something that works in concept but not in practice. (Childrearing is one of the few areas in which the Cranky Idealist is the Happy Pragmatist!)
Fortunately for me, Lolly is a naturally curious and eager student, which makes teaching her very easy. She is committed, patient, and motivated to continue to do better. Honestly, if her personality were resistant to structured learning, I am not sure what homeschooling plan we'd follow. I do worry that I am not able to give her the time and attention she deserves every day, as our lessons and projects are often interrupted by the demands of two diapered little ones. This also means that I am hesistant to do things like start at science experiment or do a library day if I know that Ola might cry or that Toot-Toot might have a meltdown. I feel like Lolly might be doing even higher-level, in-depth work if only I had a few more uninterrupted hours to spend with her each day. Too often, I have to send her away to do her work independently, because I have other urgent needs to fulfill. Independence is a valuable trait/skill to have, of course, but sometimes I feel that she needs me and I simply don't have enough of "me" to give to her. The same goes for Toot-Toot, whom we are also teaching, albeit in a less formal sense.
Another consequence of homeschooling vs. sending Lolly to school (and of being the mother to three young children) is that I don't get a break during the day. Lolly is a talkative, social child, and because she is home with me most of the time, I am her playmate, her teacher, and her mother, all rolled into one, during almost all waking hours. I went from complaining about not getting enough time to spend with my children to being around them all the time. It's been an adjustment for me, but kids are only young once, and getting to be with my children every day is a privilege that not every mother is able to have. (As for the concerns about socialization, rest assured that my children have a busy social life with several close friends, and they get to interact with dozens of their peers on a weekly basis.)
One of the biggest anxieties I have, though, is that I will fail my children in some area. It's like thinking that they'll go to college without learning to tie their shoes. I worry that I won't be enough for them, or that others will judge me or my children more harshly if they fail at something. After all, if my kids fall behind academically in some way, I can't blame a bad school or a personality conflict; I can only blame myself. I don't anticipate anything negative, but I do feel like the pressure is real. I can feel myself pushing Lolly to do more challenging work, in part out of my own insecurities. This is the part that I do not like.
That said, I feel like challenges can inspire learning, and learning is, in itself, exciting. Charlotte might have never guessed that her multiplication tables (for example) would be useful to learn until she was exposed to them and shown how they can help her delve more deeply into other interests. It is my job to expose, to record, and to guide... and I hope I can inspire in the process.
Plus, in what other job would I get to stay in my pajamas and cuddle my children anytime I wanted? Verdict: I am enjoying it!
Sunday
A Brief Tribute to Inspiration
Here is a video blog about my faith. I feel that our source of inspiration doesn't have to be perfect in order to be good, and that our truth doesn't have to be literally true to inspire us.
About Philip Workman, who is discussed in the blog: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Philip_Workman
Tuesday
What Every Student Should Know
My daily occupation is to be a mother and homeschool teacher. It keeps me busy; in fact, so busy that I've struggled to keep up with this blog. My writing time and my homeschool planning/recording time compete with each other, but such is life.
As I was reflecting on all of the activities that we do together as homeschoolers, I realized that I concentrate heavily on traditional academics (reading, writing, mathematics, the sciences, social studies), and I supplement art, music, physical education, foreign language, drama, home economics, and so forth. That is the model with which I am the most comfortable. Should anyone suddenly give my kids a standardized test, I want to be ready, pencil in hand!
However, part of the very reason why many folks choose to homeschool - and indeed, what all parents try to do - is to impart the wisdom of good habits and character traits to their children, and to have their children be able to function well in daily life through the years. Academics are great, but they must be combined with strong social and emotional and practical skills. Isn't that what we all ultimately want: happy, confident kids who grow up to take care of themselves (as much as they can) and make a positive contribution to society?
So with that in mind, I thought about my "checklist" of what I'd love for my kids to know in order to succeed in the real world, at least as much as I can foresee of the real world before my kids are ready to enter into it. Here's my short and inexhaustive list, in no particular order:
Health skills:
To know what nutritious food is, and to want to eat it.
To take care of their teeth, skin, heart, and other body parts.
To learn when to seek medical attention.
To know moderation in consumption.
To understand sex, biologically and emotionally.
Practical skills:
To know how to save money and spend wisely.
To learn how to be organized around the house.
To learn how to fix simple machines.
To know how to write well and speak articulately.
To have a healthy knowledge of science.
To be able to create at least one kind of handcrafted thing that they are able to share.
To be aware of current and historical events enough to have an intelligent opinion of them.
Social skills:
To be able to give and take compliments.
To exercise self-control.
To keep promises and commitments.
To be generous, understanding, and trustworthy to others.
To be polite to all people in all stations of life.
To be sympathetic, and to take the underdog's side.
To be aware of the people and problems in the world around them.
One more thing, but I am not sure what category this would fall under: the ability to choose and cherish a worthy life partner. There are few other things in adult life that influence our happiness (or unhappiness) as much as what partner to whom we choose to devote our life.
There are a million other things that I am forgetting right now, but I have a few more years to go. Today, Lolly wrote down where she lived (from street to galaxy), how time interconnected (from minutes to millennia), and what holidays were in what months. It's a start.
What's on your checklist?
As I was reflecting on all of the activities that we do together as homeschoolers, I realized that I concentrate heavily on traditional academics (reading, writing, mathematics, the sciences, social studies), and I supplement art, music, physical education, foreign language, drama, home economics, and so forth. That is the model with which I am the most comfortable. Should anyone suddenly give my kids a standardized test, I want to be ready, pencil in hand!
However, part of the very reason why many folks choose to homeschool - and indeed, what all parents try to do - is to impart the wisdom of good habits and character traits to their children, and to have their children be able to function well in daily life through the years. Academics are great, but they must be combined with strong social and emotional and practical skills. Isn't that what we all ultimately want: happy, confident kids who grow up to take care of themselves (as much as they can) and make a positive contribution to society?
So with that in mind, I thought about my "checklist" of what I'd love for my kids to know in order to succeed in the real world, at least as much as I can foresee of the real world before my kids are ready to enter into it. Here's my short and inexhaustive list, in no particular order:
Health skills:
To know what nutritious food is, and to want to eat it.
To take care of their teeth, skin, heart, and other body parts.
To learn when to seek medical attention.
To know moderation in consumption.
To understand sex, biologically and emotionally.
Practical skills:
To know how to save money and spend wisely.
To learn how to be organized around the house.
To learn how to fix simple machines.
To know how to write well and speak articulately.
To have a healthy knowledge of science.
To be able to create at least one kind of handcrafted thing that they are able to share.
To be aware of current and historical events enough to have an intelligent opinion of them.
Social skills:
To be able to give and take compliments.
To exercise self-control.
To keep promises and commitments.
To be generous, understanding, and trustworthy to others.
To be polite to all people in all stations of life.
To be sympathetic, and to take the underdog's side.
To be aware of the people and problems in the world around them.
One more thing, but I am not sure what category this would fall under: the ability to choose and cherish a worthy life partner. There are few other things in adult life that influence our happiness (or unhappiness) as much as what partner to whom we choose to devote our life.
There are a million other things that I am forgetting right now, but I have a few more years to go. Today, Lolly wrote down where she lived (from street to galaxy), how time interconnected (from minutes to millennia), and what holidays were in what months. It's a start.
What's on your checklist?
Saturday
What "Busy" Is: Lessons Learned
I had never known what "busy" was until I became a mother. In college, mind you, I thought I was busy. I remember that at one point, I was taking 21 credit hours, working as a Teacher's Assistant, volunteering as a Meals on Wheels driver and as a Girl Scout troop leader, serving as the Senior Class President, serving as an officer in two academic fraternities, co-directing a student play, researching and applying to graduate school, and being heavily involved with my church, including teaching kids, singing in the choir, and preparing for the ministry. (I had my heart set on getting the Rhodes Scholarship to Oxford, of all the crazy things... I went for pipe dreams.) I thought I was swamped! However, the difference between college and motherhood now is: A) I could have quit at any point, and B) My free time really was my own. I could have actually slept in most mornings, as well.
Yet there are times when I really worry that I am treating motherhood like the way I treated college: like a marathon to be won. I fear I could be channeling my personal competitive energy into being a mom, and counting my children's achievements and milestones like a checklist. There are some moments, thankfully, that cause me to sit down and just appreciate what the kids are doing, just for being who they are.
If ever worry about my children's goals more than their personhood or their happiness, please let me know. Life is just too short for any of that. In fact, the more kids I have and the more they grow, the more I feel myself pulling back, wanting to do less. Lazy might be the best word for it: I just want to be lazy and live more simply. That is a goal in itself.
At the time, I really relished being active and involved in all of those activities. In fact, I thought that the busier I was, the more productive I was, and the more productive I was, the better I was. I kind of valued myself in terms of how much I could produce, and man, was I proud. I had even won a couple of achievement pageants in college, mostly so that I could show that I was capable of winning. To me, that's all that mattered: being the best. I had to have the best grades, the best achievements. It's that whole perfectionism thing again. (Children from dysfunctional backgrounds tend to overcompensate out of insecurity. Noted.)
My first turning point came during my senior year of college. I was insanely busy and could barely make it from one meeting or class without having to go to another. I was also in a relationship that I was worried about. I still had good grades, but I was procrastinating on my work, particularly on my term papers. Who had time to think about writing a term paper, much less researching for it? I eventually ran out of time to write a major final paper for one of my most respected theology professors, who also happened to be a priest. In my haste and overconfidence, I wrote something that was only a few pages long, with minimal research, and I turned it in late, expecting somehow to have it go under the radar.
It did - that is, until I received my grades for the semester. I got an "F" for the class. It should be said that the lowest grade I'd ever received was a single "B" prior to this, and so I was sufficiently freaked out enough to approach my professor in his office when we returned to school. I told him my concern about the grade, and asked if there was something that I could do to make up the work. He turned to me with a cold look in his eye and gave me the most frank words I've ever had in my life:
"I gave you the F because your paper was crap. You knew it was crap, and yet you submitted it anyway, thinking that I would overlook it. That was an insult to me. I wrote a recommendation for you to Oxford, and this is what I get? It was an F paper, and that's what it deserved. You spend all your time worrying about how popular you are, about what clubs to join, instead of studying. But when you leave college, no one will care what you did here. No one here will remember you."
At that point, I burst into tears. He was right, and I burned with shame and embarrassment over being called out. He continued: "But what will matter, for you, is the effort that you put into your work here. I will give you another chance. If you research and rewrite this paper, and make it good, I will change your grade, and you can have an Incomplete until then." I thanked him and apologized, and left his office with a new perspective. [Postscript: I completely rewrote the paper and presented it at a conference, which got me an "A" for the class. Unfortunately, I had worse luck in grad school.]
I came out of the professor's office shaking, but those words were exactly what I'd needed. In retrospect, I was depressed and burnt out. However, I spent lots of energy trying to put on a good face and pretend that I had things under control. I owe that professor a huge debt of gratitude for not only giving me another chance, but for being real with me. Sometimes the best words aren't the sweetest.
When I became a mom, I outgrew the desire to be busy for the sake of being busy - or for the sake of getting outside accolades. Yet I am now more busy than I've ever been in my life: my schedule mostly revolves around mealtimes, bedtimes, school lessons, and playdates. I once tried to track how many diapers I changed in a day, but I lost track at the twelfth diaper. I usually choose to eat standing up when my kids are awake, because I can't guarantee that I'll sit down for long. Multitasking is my reality, and I don't even work outside the home anymore. This is not meant to be a complaint, but just an observation.
If ever worry about my children's goals more than their personhood or their happiness, please let me know. Life is just too short for any of that. In fact, the more kids I have and the more they grow, the more I feel myself pulling back, wanting to do less. Lazy might be the best word for it: I just want to be lazy and live more simply. That is a goal in itself.
Thursday
I've Never Met a Teenager I Didn't Like
Almost every time a baby is born in our society, the community gathers around to show its support and good wishes for a new life being brought into the world. We send out congratulations to the expectant parents, even if they are complete strangers. We will go out of our way to buy gifts for the child of a friend or close relative. Almost anyone but the most bitter curmudgeon would generally agree that a new baby in the world is the symbol, or even the very embodiment, of hope, love, and renewal of life.
Then every new parent hears at some point how they need to prepare themselves for when that baby becomes a teenager. The warning comes: "Just you wait!" (Cue scary music.)
It's easy to see why some people prefer babies over teenagers. Babies are always cute. Babies don't talk back. You need money to have a baby, but at least the babies themselves don't ask for money. Babies don't require complex emotional involvement or you setting a good example. Babies don't have friends and habits that are bad for them, or freedom that they could abuse. Babies always want to be loved. Heck, the only place where babies score evenly with most teenagers is on their mutual habit of staying awake all night!
There is a major prejudice against teenagers, and frankly, it's no stronger than when coming from the (current or former) parents of teenagers themselves. I think that what makes some teenagers so "bad" is that society and their own families, too often, don't expect much of them. If I've learned anything about marriage, friendship, and child-rearing, it's that people will raise or lower themselves to whatever expectation you set. Thus, if you expect your teenager to be reckless, irresponsible, demanding, defiant, (insert adjective here), then that might be exactly what you get in return. However, if you have a relationship built on sincere respect and mutual trust, then you at least have a chance, as a parent, of getting through to your teenager and having him or her make better life decisions.
I also think that some parents might feel guilty when teens misbehave, regretting that they haven't spent more time (or resources of other kinds) on their teens; they might take the blame for their teenager's poor choices. So in response, the parent becomes lenient and acts more like a friend to the teen, both to get closer to the teen and to ameliorate some of the guilt. The teen then loses some respect for the parent's role, and the cycle continues. Note that I am not suggesting that parents and teens shouldn't be friends, but just that at the end of the day, a parent is a parent first.
The fact is that I love teenagers. (Yes, I've been around many of them, from very different backgrounds!) On the whole, I think they are funny, sincere, wise, caring, and infused with justice and passion for the world. I wish that more adults would get as outraged over injustice as teens do! I've never honestly met a teenager I didn't like, as long as I stayed around long enough to listen to what they had to say. Remember that babies will be held, fed, and cared for by any willing adult, but a teenager requires the special attention of a parent or guardian who knows them and trusts them.
How different a world would we have if we publicly celebrated the coming-of-age of our teenagers and looked at adolescence as the time of self-discovery, rather than as a time to dread?
Then every new parent hears at some point how they need to prepare themselves for when that baby becomes a teenager. The warning comes: "Just you wait!" (Cue scary music.)
It's easy to see why some people prefer babies over teenagers. Babies are always cute. Babies don't talk back. You need money to have a baby, but at least the babies themselves don't ask for money. Babies don't require complex emotional involvement or you setting a good example. Babies don't have friends and habits that are bad for them, or freedom that they could abuse. Babies always want to be loved. Heck, the only place where babies score evenly with most teenagers is on their mutual habit of staying awake all night!
There is a major prejudice against teenagers, and frankly, it's no stronger than when coming from the (current or former) parents of teenagers themselves. I think that what makes some teenagers so "bad" is that society and their own families, too often, don't expect much of them. If I've learned anything about marriage, friendship, and child-rearing, it's that people will raise or lower themselves to whatever expectation you set. Thus, if you expect your teenager to be reckless, irresponsible, demanding, defiant, (insert adjective here), then that might be exactly what you get in return. However, if you have a relationship built on sincere respect and mutual trust, then you at least have a chance, as a parent, of getting through to your teenager and having him or her make better life decisions.
I also think that some parents might feel guilty when teens misbehave, regretting that they haven't spent more time (or resources of other kinds) on their teens; they might take the blame for their teenager's poor choices. So in response, the parent becomes lenient and acts more like a friend to the teen, both to get closer to the teen and to ameliorate some of the guilt. The teen then loses some respect for the parent's role, and the cycle continues. Note that I am not suggesting that parents and teens shouldn't be friends, but just that at the end of the day, a parent is a parent first.
The fact is that I love teenagers. (Yes, I've been around many of them, from very different backgrounds!) On the whole, I think they are funny, sincere, wise, caring, and infused with justice and passion for the world. I wish that more adults would get as outraged over injustice as teens do! I've never honestly met a teenager I didn't like, as long as I stayed around long enough to listen to what they had to say. Remember that babies will be held, fed, and cared for by any willing adult, but a teenager requires the special attention of a parent or guardian who knows them and trusts them.
How different a world would we have if we publicly celebrated the coming-of-age of our teenagers and looked at adolescence as the time of self-discovery, rather than as a time to dread?
Tuesday
How Being a Mom Turned Me Into a Mutha
[Note: I wrote most of this shortly after Toot-Toot, my younger daughter, was born. If you followed my old blog, please forgive me for the "recycling"!]
I've noticed that, in the past couple of years, I've become much more bold about sharing my opinions, whether popular or not. Ten years ago, I would have wanted to crawl into a hole if I even thought that I had made waves in a conversation. Being liked was one of my top priorities in all relationships, and I tried very hard to make nice with people, even with people who weren't so nice. (In high school, a female friend of mine bought me a book called, "Getting in Touch with Your Inner Bitch." Apparently, I needed some help.)
These days, however, I find that I have fewer qualms about speaking my mind when the situation calls for it. I think it's cost me a few potential friendships, but that doesn't bother me... much.
All of my newfound boldness began, I think, when I became a mother - and I mean at the actual birth itself. If anything, what giving birth teaches you is to forget modesty. There you are in pain, about to welcome a new life, and suddenly it doesn't matter at all that a medical student is holding your legs open or that a stranger just had to wipe away your body fluids or that you just cursed in a room full of nice people. (You also realize that nobody cares about your unshaved legs and lack of pedicure. Really.) It's like having a serious illness: little things that used to matter to you no longer seem so important.
This extends, of course, to the months and years ahead. Priorities and interests shift, and you give up worrying about the minutia of life. For example, I used to be a huge fan of Marilyn Monroe. I read her biographies, watched her movies, memorized her songs, and decorated my bedroom with her pictures. I was an officer with two Marilyn fan clubs, and I even briefly became a Marilyn impersonator for hire. However, when I became pregnant with my first daughter, all of my Marilyn obsession began to dissolve almost unconsciously. It just wasn't that important to me anymore.
As we grow older, we often find that we have less and less time and tolerance for other people's crap. Life becomes too short to deal with gossip, rudeness, and other time-wasters. Parenthood, I think, increases this feeling. Who has time to worry about the little things when you have kids at home?
Further, parents can't afford to be too nice. Allow me to illustrate: if someone says something nasty to you alone, then it's entirely up to you, as the injured party, to choose how or even if to respond. However, if someone says something nasty to or about your child, you now have a moral obligation to respond. In other words, it's no longer about you, or about being liked. Your child needs a defender, and that defender is primarily going to be you. You have to take the chance that you're not going to be popular for your response, and that just has to be okay.
Yet women are taught to not make conflict, to be nice, and to be supportive, both to men and to other women. Well, I am all for being nice and supportive, but the conflict part is downright necessary. Conflict is critical for growth.
I once had a female acquaintance basically apologize to a mutual male acquaintance about me making waves in a political conversation. While I didn't agree with what the male acquaintance said, what hurt more was that the female acquaintance felt the need to smooth things over with the male because I had spoken my mind about something unpopular. If I were male, would she have said anything to him at all on my behalf?
So why not speak the truth in love at every appropriate opportunity, even when that isn't popular? After all, you might regret saying something, but you might equally regret not saying it. I would rather say something unpopular that might get me into trouble than to not say anything and to have other people assume that I agree with something abhorrent.
So, thanks to my precious children, here I am.
I've noticed that, in the past couple of years, I've become much more bold about sharing my opinions, whether popular or not. Ten years ago, I would have wanted to crawl into a hole if I even thought that I had made waves in a conversation. Being liked was one of my top priorities in all relationships, and I tried very hard to make nice with people, even with people who weren't so nice. (In high school, a female friend of mine bought me a book called, "Getting in Touch with Your Inner Bitch." Apparently, I needed some help.)
These days, however, I find that I have fewer qualms about speaking my mind when the situation calls for it. I think it's cost me a few potential friendships, but that doesn't bother me... much.
All of my newfound boldness began, I think, when I became a mother - and I mean at the actual birth itself. If anything, what giving birth teaches you is to forget modesty. There you are in pain, about to welcome a new life, and suddenly it doesn't matter at all that a medical student is holding your legs open or that a stranger just had to wipe away your body fluids or that you just cursed in a room full of nice people. (You also realize that nobody cares about your unshaved legs and lack of pedicure. Really.) It's like having a serious illness: little things that used to matter to you no longer seem so important.
This extends, of course, to the months and years ahead. Priorities and interests shift, and you give up worrying about the minutia of life. For example, I used to be a huge fan of Marilyn Monroe. I read her biographies, watched her movies, memorized her songs, and decorated my bedroom with her pictures. I was an officer with two Marilyn fan clubs, and I even briefly became a Marilyn impersonator for hire. However, when I became pregnant with my first daughter, all of my Marilyn obsession began to dissolve almost unconsciously. It just wasn't that important to me anymore.
As we grow older, we often find that we have less and less time and tolerance for other people's crap. Life becomes too short to deal with gossip, rudeness, and other time-wasters. Parenthood, I think, increases this feeling. Who has time to worry about the little things when you have kids at home?
Further, parents can't afford to be too nice. Allow me to illustrate: if someone says something nasty to you alone, then it's entirely up to you, as the injured party, to choose how or even if to respond. However, if someone says something nasty to or about your child, you now have a moral obligation to respond. In other words, it's no longer about you, or about being liked. Your child needs a defender, and that defender is primarily going to be you. You have to take the chance that you're not going to be popular for your response, and that just has to be okay.
Yet women are taught to not make conflict, to be nice, and to be supportive, both to men and to other women. Well, I am all for being nice and supportive, but the conflict part is downright necessary. Conflict is critical for growth.
I once had a female acquaintance basically apologize to a mutual male acquaintance about me making waves in a political conversation. While I didn't agree with what the male acquaintance said, what hurt more was that the female acquaintance felt the need to smooth things over with the male because I had spoken my mind about something unpopular. If I were male, would she have said anything to him at all on my behalf?
So why not speak the truth in love at every appropriate opportunity, even when that isn't popular? After all, you might regret saying something, but you might equally regret not saying it. I would rather say something unpopular that might get me into trouble than to not say anything and to have other people assume that I agree with something abhorrent.
So, thanks to my precious children, here I am.
Monday
The Joy (mostly) of Breastfeeding
About 8-10 times a day, a snuggly, precious five-month-old baby nurses at my breast. He follows suit after his two sisters did the same. The difference in the breastfeeding experience between my son and my two daughters is that I went back to work when my girls were still newborns and, after pumping rather unsuccessfully, I eventually supplemented with formula. However, I plan to exclusively breastfeed my son for as long as it works for us.
I'll admit it now: I love breastfeeding. I always knew that I wanted to become a mother, and I always knew that I would breastfeed my babies if at all possible. My mother and grandmother both breastfed their babies whenever they could, despite the fact that they were both work-outside-the-home mothers and that breastfeeding was not the norm years ago. My grandmother reports that the maternity nurses bottlefed her first son in the hospital without her consent, and they chided her for wanting to breastfeed. After all, formula feeding represented societal progress... even though the formula at that time usually consisted of equal parts evaporated milk, Karo Syrup, and water. (I could go into a long novel about how glad I am to be a 21st century mom, but I digress.)
But every time I talk about how great breastfeeding has been for me, I always feel like I have to emphasize that my yay-happy approach to it does not indicate an indictment against women who either choose not to breastfeed or who cannot breastfeed (of course). I think that mothers have been forced to take sides on this issue, and that is not fair. Yes, it's been proven that breastmilk is the absolute best nutritional choice for babies under a year old. Yes, breastfed children are shown to be generally healthier, and they tend to have fewer earaches, allergies, communicable diseases, and so forth. Yes, breastfeeding is free (sans the pumping and storing implements), and it's ecologically sound. Yes, breastfeeding promotes bonding, it's good for the mother's postpartum body, it's excellent birth control, et cetera.
But NO, formula feeding does not cause children to be unhealthy, unhappy kids. No, moms who choose to feed their babies formula do not love their babies any less than moms who choose to breastfeed. You'd think that this was obvious, but in the Mommy Wars, nothing is taken for granted.
As for me, I am a believer in pragmatic parenting: go with whatever works best for you and your kids. I've done both, and I personally found that formula feeding was a bigger pain. Sterilizing bottles, going to the kitchen in the middle of the night, running out to the store to buy more formula at $15 per can - no thanks! That's right: one of the reasons why I like breastfeeding is because I am lazy (and cheap). Placing a baby at the boob is easy: no mixing powder, no heating water, and I can still have one free arm to multitask, like I am doing right now. Not to mention the bonus benefit of not having a menstrual period for months, and the fact that it burns hundreds of calories without me having to do much.
Yet to show how this is a complex issue, I will share those times when breastfeeding has not been a joy for me.
First week: Breastfeeding can really hurt, especially at the beginning. Newborns have a surprisingly powerful sucking reflex; after all, their lives depend on it. With my oldest, I remember having tears in my eyes and scabs on my nipples from the bleeding. (Please excuse the visual!) But then the days go by and you eventually can't feel any discomfort whatsoever, like you went from wearing boots to bunny slippers.
Outings with baby: Many new moms already feel vulnerable and insecure. That feeling can be intensified when moms need to nurse hungry babies in public places at inopportune times. I remember trying to nurse my youngest daughter at the circus, where it was loud, crowded, and dirty. She screamed every time I tried to cover us with a blanket for modesty, and the only private space around was the portapotty (yuck). The more she screamed, the more she couldn't latch on, and the more she couldn't latch on, the more hungry she became, which caused more screaming. At that moment, I was not a good poster child for breastfeeding.
Outings without baby: These days, if I want to go anywhere without the baby - a rare occasion as it is - I have to either pump milk (not always successful at this) or be sure to return within 3 hours. I've been for a quick trip to the store and returned to find my son crying for me. This isn't as bad for me as it is for my son and whomever is caring for him during my absence. Don't forget the joy of having drips show through your shirt in public.
Teething: I am experiencing this right now. My girls were fairly gentle, but my son seems to think that I am a chew toy. He has no teeth yet, but when that day comes, I will be monitoring things closely. Grinding is not a good feeling!
Weaning: There is something bittersweet about having your baby grow up, and weaning is one of the big milestones for this. I've cried over it. Our oldest daughter, whom I weaned at twelve months old in order to increase my fertility, would have breastfed for years if given the choice, but our youngest daughter (ever the independent one) eagerly weaned herself from the breast at eight months old and wanted her bottle instead. Our son seems to be the nursing type, so don't be surprised if we continue this for awhile.
Nursing is not always terrific, but I wouldn't trade it for the world. It's been a great choice for us, and I am glad that we've tried to stick with it.
I'll admit it now: I love breastfeeding. I always knew that I wanted to become a mother, and I always knew that I would breastfeed my babies if at all possible. My mother and grandmother both breastfed their babies whenever they could, despite the fact that they were both work-outside-the-home mothers and that breastfeeding was not the norm years ago. My grandmother reports that the maternity nurses bottlefed her first son in the hospital without her consent, and they chided her for wanting to breastfeed. After all, formula feeding represented societal progress... even though the formula at that time usually consisted of equal parts evaporated milk, Karo Syrup, and water. (I could go into a long novel about how glad I am to be a 21st century mom, but I digress.)
But every time I talk about how great breastfeeding has been for me, I always feel like I have to emphasize that my yay-happy approach to it does not indicate an indictment against women who either choose not to breastfeed or who cannot breastfeed (of course). I think that mothers have been forced to take sides on this issue, and that is not fair. Yes, it's been proven that breastmilk is the absolute best nutritional choice for babies under a year old. Yes, breastfed children are shown to be generally healthier, and they tend to have fewer earaches, allergies, communicable diseases, and so forth. Yes, breastfeeding is free (sans the pumping and storing implements), and it's ecologically sound. Yes, breastfeeding promotes bonding, it's good for the mother's postpartum body, it's excellent birth control, et cetera.
But NO, formula feeding does not cause children to be unhealthy, unhappy kids. No, moms who choose to feed their babies formula do not love their babies any less than moms who choose to breastfeed. You'd think that this was obvious, but in the Mommy Wars, nothing is taken for granted.
As for me, I am a believer in pragmatic parenting: go with whatever works best for you and your kids. I've done both, and I personally found that formula feeding was a bigger pain. Sterilizing bottles, going to the kitchen in the middle of the night, running out to the store to buy more formula at $15 per can - no thanks! That's right: one of the reasons why I like breastfeeding is because I am lazy (and cheap). Placing a baby at the boob is easy: no mixing powder, no heating water, and I can still have one free arm to multitask, like I am doing right now. Not to mention the bonus benefit of not having a menstrual period for months, and the fact that it burns hundreds of calories without me having to do much.
Yet to show how this is a complex issue, I will share those times when breastfeeding has not been a joy for me.
First week: Breastfeeding can really hurt, especially at the beginning. Newborns have a surprisingly powerful sucking reflex; after all, their lives depend on it. With my oldest, I remember having tears in my eyes and scabs on my nipples from the bleeding. (Please excuse the visual!) But then the days go by and you eventually can't feel any discomfort whatsoever, like you went from wearing boots to bunny slippers.
Outings with baby: Many new moms already feel vulnerable and insecure. That feeling can be intensified when moms need to nurse hungry babies in public places at inopportune times. I remember trying to nurse my youngest daughter at the circus, where it was loud, crowded, and dirty. She screamed every time I tried to cover us with a blanket for modesty, and the only private space around was the portapotty (yuck). The more she screamed, the more she couldn't latch on, and the more she couldn't latch on, the more hungry she became, which caused more screaming. At that moment, I was not a good poster child for breastfeeding.
Outings without baby: These days, if I want to go anywhere without the baby - a rare occasion as it is - I have to either pump milk (not always successful at this) or be sure to return within 3 hours. I've been for a quick trip to the store and returned to find my son crying for me. This isn't as bad for me as it is for my son and whomever is caring for him during my absence. Don't forget the joy of having drips show through your shirt in public.
Teething: I am experiencing this right now. My girls were fairly gentle, but my son seems to think that I am a chew toy. He has no teeth yet, but when that day comes, I will be monitoring things closely. Grinding is not a good feeling!
Weaning: There is something bittersweet about having your baby grow up, and weaning is one of the big milestones for this. I've cried over it. Our oldest daughter, whom I weaned at twelve months old in order to increase my fertility, would have breastfed for years if given the choice, but our youngest daughter (ever the independent one) eagerly weaned herself from the breast at eight months old and wanted her bottle instead. Our son seems to be the nursing type, so don't be surprised if we continue this for awhile.
Nursing is not always terrific, but I wouldn't trade it for the world. It's been a great choice for us, and I am glad that we've tried to stick with it.
Sunday
How many environmentalists does it take to change a lightbulb?
There are no passengers on Spaceship Earth. We are all crew. -Marshall McLuhan, 1964
Like most of us, I have wanted to do my part to help make our planet more green. I once even chased down and confronted a litterbug in my old neighborhood over a discarded donut wrapper. Rawr!
Yet I've wanted to go beyond the "compact fluorescent bulb" stage of environmentalism. I use that term because whenever I read pamphlets that discuss what we can do for the environment, switching to compact fluorescent bulbs is usually at the top of the list. But it's an easy choice: we save money in the long run, and it involves no more investment than the initial cost of the lightbulb and the time it takes to screw it in place. (Of course, a broken bulb with mercury can be a problem when it comes to disposal, but that's another story altogether.) It's a great start, but environmental solutions need to come with harder lifestyle choices. How many of us turn up the heat rather than put on a sweater?
I thought about all of the major, radical things that we human beings can do to help our environment, and my list immediately consisted of this:
1. Consume much less. This means buying only what is needed, buying used whenever possible, and reusing things until they can no longer be used.
2. Become a vegan. Animal farms cause water pollution and require major land resources, for starters.
3. Don't have more than one child. Overpopulation taxes limited resources. Not to mention, diapers are awful for the environment, no matter what kind you use.
4. Rarely drive a car or take an airplane. The pollution caused by carbon emissions from countless cars and airplanes is extreme, as is the junk that comes from manufacturing and getting rid of them. This doesn't even begin to include the impact of fossil fuel drilling and oil spills.
5. Don't support any businesses and government systems that hurt the environment. Take a stand against the worst polluters. This is where people can make the greatest global impact.
Okay, let's admit it: if I do/had done all of the above things, my environmental footprint would get much smaller. I mean, are we really environmentally minded if we commute far distances, have three kids, and eat meat every day? (That was a rhetorical question.) We need to acknowledge that it's not enough for people to put their cans in the recycling bin and call it a day. We all need to do more. We cannot be lulled into ecological apathy. We need to consider ourselves environmentalists; we have no choice if we are to have a future.
That said, are the above radical actions desirable or even realistic for most people? How many people would assent to one or the other, but then balk at the rest? How many people can be persuaded to change their lifestyles to that degree?
The fact remains that we all have choices, but we don't have to be ideal environmentalists in order to be good environmentalists. I would rather everyone in the world make moderate lifestyle changes to help the earth than for just a few people to make radical changes while others do nothing.
So what can we do? Well, perhaps it might help to do a mental inventory of what we already do to help the environment, and what we could do better. For me, a short list would look like this:
What I already do:
1. Recycle all paper, cans, jars, and bottles that come from our house;
2. Have a low-maintenance yard with no fertilizers and no watering, mowed with a handpowered lawnmower;
3. Share a smaller family car, and walk when possible;
4. Buy mostly used clothes, shoes, toys, furniture, and books;
5. Don't eat land-based animals;
6. Turn off lights, turn off water when not using;
7. Don't buy too much stuff.
I am okay with this list, but not satisfied. There is so much more that I could be doing, including:
1. Reuse more household products, especially paper;
2. Use less toxic cleaning supplies, wash less laundry, use less bathwater;
3. Drive an electric or hybrid car, and use public transportation more;
4. Buy more environmentally friendly products, from clothes to furniture;
5. Buy organic, locally grown foods more often;
6. Adjust our thermostat to seasonal levels and put insulation in the walls of our house;
7. Buy much less stuff, still.
That's not even going into environmental activism, which can begin with a simple boycott or a letter written to a politician or company president.
Then there's the matter of me and all my kids, of course... I do have a defense when it comes to having children, even as I admit that new human beings make a huge impact on the environment. It is that a child who is knowledgeable about helping the earth and who can be taught to persuade others to do the same is worth a million compact fluorescent bulbs or recycled cans. Today's baby could be tomorrow's Sierra Club member, after all.
The bottom line is that while we need to make many choices to help the environment, those choices need to be comfortable enough so that they are easy for most of us to implement - and we need to talk about it as if it's a problem to which we can all be a part of the solution.
Like most of us, I have wanted to do my part to help make our planet more green. I once even chased down and confronted a litterbug in my old neighborhood over a discarded donut wrapper. Rawr!
Yet I've wanted to go beyond the "compact fluorescent bulb" stage of environmentalism. I use that term because whenever I read pamphlets that discuss what we can do for the environment, switching to compact fluorescent bulbs is usually at the top of the list. But it's an easy choice: we save money in the long run, and it involves no more investment than the initial cost of the lightbulb and the time it takes to screw it in place. (Of course, a broken bulb with mercury can be a problem when it comes to disposal, but that's another story altogether.) It's a great start, but environmental solutions need to come with harder lifestyle choices. How many of us turn up the heat rather than put on a sweater?
I thought about all of the major, radical things that we human beings can do to help our environment, and my list immediately consisted of this:
1. Consume much less. This means buying only what is needed, buying used whenever possible, and reusing things until they can no longer be used.
2. Become a vegan. Animal farms cause water pollution and require major land resources, for starters.
3. Don't have more than one child. Overpopulation taxes limited resources. Not to mention, diapers are awful for the environment, no matter what kind you use.
4. Rarely drive a car or take an airplane. The pollution caused by carbon emissions from countless cars and airplanes is extreme, as is the junk that comes from manufacturing and getting rid of them. This doesn't even begin to include the impact of fossil fuel drilling and oil spills.
5. Don't support any businesses and government systems that hurt the environment. Take a stand against the worst polluters. This is where people can make the greatest global impact.
Okay, let's admit it: if I do/had done all of the above things, my environmental footprint would get much smaller. I mean, are we really environmentally minded if we commute far distances, have three kids, and eat meat every day? (That was a rhetorical question.) We need to acknowledge that it's not enough for people to put their cans in the recycling bin and call it a day. We all need to do more. We cannot be lulled into ecological apathy. We need to consider ourselves environmentalists; we have no choice if we are to have a future.
That said, are the above radical actions desirable or even realistic for most people? How many people would assent to one or the other, but then balk at the rest? How many people can be persuaded to change their lifestyles to that degree?
The fact remains that we all have choices, but we don't have to be ideal environmentalists in order to be good environmentalists. I would rather everyone in the world make moderate lifestyle changes to help the earth than for just a few people to make radical changes while others do nothing.
So what can we do? Well, perhaps it might help to do a mental inventory of what we already do to help the environment, and what we could do better. For me, a short list would look like this:
What I already do:
1. Recycle all paper, cans, jars, and bottles that come from our house;
2. Have a low-maintenance yard with no fertilizers and no watering, mowed with a handpowered lawnmower;
3. Share a smaller family car, and walk when possible;
4. Buy mostly used clothes, shoes, toys, furniture, and books;
5. Don't eat land-based animals;
6. Turn off lights, turn off water when not using;
7. Don't buy too much stuff.
I am okay with this list, but not satisfied. There is so much more that I could be doing, including:
1. Reuse more household products, especially paper;
2. Use less toxic cleaning supplies, wash less laundry, use less bathwater;
3. Drive an electric or hybrid car, and use public transportation more;
4. Buy more environmentally friendly products, from clothes to furniture;
5. Buy organic, locally grown foods more often;
6. Adjust our thermostat to seasonal levels and put insulation in the walls of our house;
7. Buy much less stuff, still.
That's not even going into environmental activism, which can begin with a simple boycott or a letter written to a politician or company president.
Then there's the matter of me and all my kids, of course... I do have a defense when it comes to having children, even as I admit that new human beings make a huge impact on the environment. It is that a child who is knowledgeable about helping the earth and who can be taught to persuade others to do the same is worth a million compact fluorescent bulbs or recycled cans. Today's baby could be tomorrow's Sierra Club member, after all.
The bottom line is that while we need to make many choices to help the environment, those choices need to be comfortable enough so that they are easy for most of us to implement - and we need to talk about it as if it's a problem to which we can all be a part of the solution.
Saturday
Perfect. Resolve.
Isn't it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet? - "Anne of Green Gables"
When I was about eleven years old, I went through a period when I was obsessed about not making mistakes. I would begin every day with a structured routine: my grooming, my handwriting, and even my speech had to be perfect. (Even the magazines in my drawer were arranged by date... and in a spiral pattern.) I went so far as to have scripted dialogue with my parents, which no doubt started to worry them.
But even after the most perfect beginning, things started to break down by mid-morning every day: perhaps a classmate said something and I responded with sarcasm, or I realized that I didn't do all of my homework, after all. The spell broke. Because my day was then deemed imperfect by me, I felt unworthy for the rest of the day, and thus, I didn't care what happened from that point until I went to bed at night. (Note: this lasted a few years and eventually landed me in the company of some really nice therapists.) In retrospect, I realize that my obsessive behavior was a feeble attempt to create a sense of order in my imbalanced life, but at the time, I really believed that I could achieve perfection. (Insert laughter here.)
In my naivete, the thing that I got wrong the most was that I believed that there was one "perfect" way to be. To me, at the time, "perfect" meant to be respected, because respected people were those who were free of blame, free of mistakes... so I thought. It never occurred to me at the time that someone who was respected by some might not be respected by everyone. After all, who decides what's perfect - or even respectable? I guess that's where being true to oneself comes in: if you're genuine, no one can argue that you're not being perfectly you. It also never occurred to me that most good people generally like people who show some of their faults. Not that we're defined by our mistakes, mind you, but they are what make us most human. When people recognize other people's humanity, they actually like and respect them more... there's a paradox for you.
As I reflect on this New Year, I am reminded of how excited I still get to make resolutions. They are the chance to do something to make things a little more perfect, in a sensible way. Part of the challenge, for me, is to see how long I can keep the commitment. (I also experienced many years of my youth of being unable to commit to anything!) So in 2009, for example, I decided to keep a daily record of everything unusual that I had done - every party, every trip to the store, every major project, every person I saw that day, and so forth. I kept the commitment, and now I have a full record of the outings and visits that I did for the whole year. I then did an abbreviated version for the following year. The calendar doesn't look like much to me now, but it might be nice to share with my kids someday... especially considering how fuzzy my memory has been lately. What resolutions have you made, if any? How have they worked for you?
Somewhat related to the calendar is this blog, which is meant to be like a public diary of my thoughts. It's not quite as ephemeral as my Facebook posts, and not quite as personal as emails to my friends... but it's something to share. I resolve to post something on a daily (gulp) basis this year, whether it's about faith or homeschooling or something entirely different. Feel free to comment, and let me know what you think.
Ring the bells that still can ring/Forget your perfect offering/There is a crack in everything/That's how the light gets in. -Leonard Cohen
When I was about eleven years old, I went through a period when I was obsessed about not making mistakes. I would begin every day with a structured routine: my grooming, my handwriting, and even my speech had to be perfect. (Even the magazines in my drawer were arranged by date... and in a spiral pattern.) I went so far as to have scripted dialogue with my parents, which no doubt started to worry them.
But even after the most perfect beginning, things started to break down by mid-morning every day: perhaps a classmate said something and I responded with sarcasm, or I realized that I didn't do all of my homework, after all. The spell broke. Because my day was then deemed imperfect by me, I felt unworthy for the rest of the day, and thus, I didn't care what happened from that point until I went to bed at night. (Note: this lasted a few years and eventually landed me in the company of some really nice therapists.) In retrospect, I realize that my obsessive behavior was a feeble attempt to create a sense of order in my imbalanced life, but at the time, I really believed that I could achieve perfection. (Insert laughter here.)
In my naivete, the thing that I got wrong the most was that I believed that there was one "perfect" way to be. To me, at the time, "perfect" meant to be respected, because respected people were those who were free of blame, free of mistakes... so I thought. It never occurred to me at the time that someone who was respected by some might not be respected by everyone. After all, who decides what's perfect - or even respectable? I guess that's where being true to oneself comes in: if you're genuine, no one can argue that you're not being perfectly you. It also never occurred to me that most good people generally like people who show some of their faults. Not that we're defined by our mistakes, mind you, but they are what make us most human. When people recognize other people's humanity, they actually like and respect them more... there's a paradox for you.
As I reflect on this New Year, I am reminded of how excited I still get to make resolutions. They are the chance to do something to make things a little more perfect, in a sensible way. Part of the challenge, for me, is to see how long I can keep the commitment. (I also experienced many years of my youth of being unable to commit to anything!) So in 2009, for example, I decided to keep a daily record of everything unusual that I had done - every party, every trip to the store, every major project, every person I saw that day, and so forth. I kept the commitment, and now I have a full record of the outings and visits that I did for the whole year. I then did an abbreviated version for the following year. The calendar doesn't look like much to me now, but it might be nice to share with my kids someday... especially considering how fuzzy my memory has been lately. What resolutions have you made, if any? How have they worked for you?
Somewhat related to the calendar is this blog, which is meant to be like a public diary of my thoughts. It's not quite as ephemeral as my Facebook posts, and not quite as personal as emails to my friends... but it's something to share. I resolve to post something on a daily (gulp) basis this year, whether it's about faith or homeschooling or something entirely different. Feel free to comment, and let me know what you think.
Ring the bells that still can ring/Forget your perfect offering/There is a crack in everything/That's how the light gets in. -Leonard Cohen
Tuesday
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!
Thanks for visiting my blog! Here's Ola (4 months), Lolly (5 years), and Toot-Toot (21 months) to welcome you to a fabulous 2011 to come. Cheers, everyone!
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