The Oldest Child.

"Yet in thy dark streets shineth the everlasting Light/The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight/For Christ is born of Mary, and gathered all above/While mortals sleep, the angels keep their watch of wondering love..."

- "O Little Town of Bethlehem"

On Mother's Day, I reflected not only on the complex nature of the relationship between myself and my own mother, with whom I am close, and of the relationships between myself and other "mothering types" in my life, including my grandmother and my aunt, but also of my relationship to my own children.  This marks my fifth "official" Mother's Day, though I still celebrated when I was pregnant with Lolly, my first child.

Any parent can tell you of the feeling of unspeakable joy, pride, wonder, intensity, fear, and euphoria that one feels when a child comes into one's family, particularly a first child.  After all, it's an experience like no other, and when you've experienced it for the first time, life seems to take a deep breath.  (Even at Lolly's birth, I wanted a mirror to see what was happening... I didn't want to miss a moment.)  When parenthood begins for the first time, it can feel like there is no other single person greater than your child - certainly not yourself.  You want to savor every moment.  You protect, you obsess, you worry.



Lolly in a box.



Now that I am the mother of three young children, I've relaxed somewhat.  I no longer feel ill when my baby cries; instead, it's a fact of life that babies will cry, and we just do what we can do help.  I no longer write down every single first - including things like "first dog seen" or "first apple tasted" - because I just don't have time.  I no longer have the same resolutions... life gets in the way before I can hold onto those things. 

However, when I was the parent of one child, I tried to devote all of my free time to her.  Unfortunately, I had to go back to work when she was less than a month old, but it made me cherish the times with her even more.  We went everywhere together: amusement parks, restaurants, New York City, everywhere from Maine to Pennsylvania to Florida, and all around her native Boston.  She sat in the front row every week at church.  I took her to the Museum of Fine Arts ten times before she was two years old.  I wasn't able to do attachment parenting practices all the time because I worked, but I definitely got the concept.

Lolly was my baby, my little seed of perfection.  Dammit, the parent says, I may have made lots of mistakes in my own life, but this kid is going to be perfect!  Look, she was born perfect!



Lolly's very first day of preschool.   I think I was just as nervous as she was.  I cried every day that week.

Of course, you also want to treat that child perfectly... you spend all of your money on professional portraits and trips to the zoo... you read to your child all the time, you don't let her watch any television... you create elaborate birthday parties, you make sure she eats her vegetables... you videotape her singing and even sleeping.  This child is a reflection of not only you, your family, and your values, but possibly of life itself.  Don't screw this up, your conscience seems to say. 

My biggest fear with Lolly is that her joy will be taken away.  We all know that innocence inevitably fades; that's just part of maturing.  However, joy doesn't have to fade... her sense of wonder and excitement about life.  Nor should her empathy and sensitivity fade, I hope.  It can't happen, I tell myself.

A happy, healthy, moral, confident kid... that's all we parents really want, right? 

The seed of perfection got older, and I had more children.  I got more busy and, admittedly, more lax about some things.  Yet I never stopped trying to mold Lolly, it seems.  Since she now knows the answer to 9 times 12, I get anxious for her to learn the whole times table and long division.  Since she now reads Babysitter chapter books, I get anxious for her to start on great works of literature.  I've been consistently amazed at how quickly Lolly learns, but the more she learns, the more I want her to know.  I think she's brilliant, so I keep pushing her.  One of these days, she's going to go on strike, and rightly so.

Then I worry about what's going to happen as she gets older.  Her personality, at least for the moment, is so much like mine was when I was her age. She is a people-pleasing perfectionist, a sensitive girl who loves performing but feels embarrassed when called to do so, a voracious reader with a strong imagination, and someone who might be lonely someday.  What if she goes with the first guy who says he loves her?  What if she falls in with the wrong crowd?   Just like any parent, I want to keep her from any hurt.  I don't want to see her get her heart broken or to be ridiculed or to feel humiliated or to dislike herself or to hurt others.  I guess that never stops.

We're really close now... we would do everything together, if I would let it happen.  I am worried, on a selfish level, about whether she'll decide that not only does she not need me when she becomes an adult(which is appropriate, of course), but that she doesn't want me.  Yes, I realize how remarkably immature that sounds, but those are my insecurities, right there.  I want us to continue to be close.  I also want her to learn from my mistakes.  And I always want a part of her to be my baby forever.

 

My recipe for perfection now is to let her have more tea parties, read more books for pleasure, have more playtime, and to keep making a big deal about all of the birthdays and holidays and visits.  Saying yes more often - when it counts - is a good thing.  She is never going to get these years back, and neither am I.

Because It Makes Me Happy.

I was reading an autobiography from my bookshelf today wherein the subject, a well-known actress, stated that her main childhood aspiration was to be a happy adult.  As a child, she didn't tell people that she wanted to be defined by some occupation when she grew up, but rather, that she wanted to be happy.

It seems so foolishly simple: of course we'd want to be happy.  Yet everywhere we look around us, we see people who either outright ignore the goal of happiness (by choosing careers they hate, partners they don't respect) or who pursue it in dangerous ways (like drug abuse).  Most of us rarely follow our bliss, as Joseph Campbell might say. 

But why?  Is it guilt?  Do we think that, somehow, making ourselves happy should be wrong?  To put it in a spiritual sense, don't you think that God (or whatever you call your ultimate) intends all of us to be truly fulfilled and happy in life?  If not, why not?

I am not talking about selfish hedonism here.  I am not talking about Ayn Rand or do-it-yourself, damn-the-rest happiness.  I don't feel like the pursuit of happiness at the expense of compassion, generosity, and community is worth much in the long run for anyone.  What I mean is when people follow their bliss - while being mindful of what might be best for other people - people can inspire more joy and fulfillment in others.

If that sounds too vague or simplistic for you, consider this: can you recall a time when someone inspired you?  Perhaps a friend made a courageous life choice that caused you to reexamine your life choices and redirect your life in a positive way.  Perhaps a stranger did or experienced something extraordinary that caused you to rethink the very nature of joy.  I am convinced that happy people can beget more happy people, as long as those people are given the chance to be happy and don't feel like they're on the outside looking in, so to speak.

Certain things are supposed to make us happy, society says: our kids, our looks, our financial security, the toys we have.  While I certainly agree that children can make us feel deeply fulfilled, and I agree that one cannot be very happy in life without some level of security - however that might be defined - I think that our standards for happiness are different from what we might think.  (I remember the comedian Rita Rudner once giving a list about the things that sounded better than they really were; on the list were things like the beach, and hot buttered rum.)

I was talking with a friend this week about expectations; specifically, about how things that cost money are supposed to make us more happy.  My friend talked about how she had more fun just sharing a glass of wine and conversation with her husband on the back porch while the kids played than she did going out to a fancy dinner and paying a babysitter to watch the kids.  It's also the same feeling when you buy a nice pair of jeans for $40 vs. $80 vs. $1, and thinking about how much you could do with the extra money and the $1 jeans.

But I get a little awkward when I describe what really makes me happy.  I mean, why did I get married, procreate, and raise kids?  Because all three things made me happy, of course.  (Many children aren't conceived because their parents deliberately wanted to make a wonderful difference in the world.  Instead, the children were a byproduct of joy, so to speak.)  Was I supposed to give a different answer?

But what about other things, like homeschooling?  One of my "dirty little secrets" is that I wanted to homeschool because it makes me happy.  It makes me happy to see my kids constantly!  It makes me happy to put lesson plans together and watch my kids learn.  It's exciting!  We don't homeschool because we feel that, regrettably, we have to... we do it because it's awesome for us.

All in all, why wouldn't we do things out of happiness?  Can we do things out of a sense of duty, and still feel really happy about them (like volunteer work)?  We've only got one of these lives, so we'd better find some happiness in what we do.

Because I'm not a Woman anymore. I'm a Mom.

Warning: what is to follow is some of the most vapid, insignificant stuff about which I will write, but I figured we could use some levity.

As some of you may know, my personal fashion style has been, er, eclectic over the years.  My style could be called gaudy, modest, weird, over-the-top, or just plain frumpy.  A former boyfriend's best friend used to describe my clothes as "dick repellant" (my apologies).  First, I didn't wear jeans, shorts, or sexy shirts.  Instead, I wore long skirts or dresses or jumpers, sometimes with tights or leggings underneath, and blouses with sleeves.  This was even in the summer. It's not a religious thing, but rather, a personal thing: I would prefer not to show my own skin, and I definitely don't like to tan. 

In addition, I've tended to go overboard with colors and patterns.  It's not that I didn't want to attract attention to myself, but that I wanted to do it on my own terms, with the clothes that I liked best.  I mean, who doesn't like bright fabulousness?  (I won't even go into my hairstyles over the years: bleached, buzzcut, mohawked, you name it.  That would be another blog altogether.)


"Hey, guys!  The pregnant, hippie creampuff modeled after June Cleaver's curtains is right over here!"



Is it the pattern that's causing my manic smile?  This was part of a polyester three-piece suit.



When you've completely given up, you can wear Christmas pajamas outside.  By the Dumpster.



However, while I thought that I was looking original and unique all of these years, I think I was just looking tacky.  I was doing my own thing, but I wasn't flattering myself.  I had even been anti-jeans because I'd been anti-conformist.  I wanted to be different at any cost.

Then there's the modest aspect.  There's a difference between not trying to look sexy and deliberately trying not to look sexy, even for my husband.  I began looking like a cult member (trust me).  It didn't help that I'd gained and lost about 450 pounds total within 5 years with 4 pregnancies.  I needed all the help I could get.

Flash forward to the present day.  I am helping to look for jeans for my niece and nephew, and it occurs to me that I haven't owned a single pair of jeans in years.  In fact, I last wore jeans back in college, I think, with the exception of a pair of maternity jeans I wore during one pregnancy.  Yet jeans are flattering, versatile, and very practical.  They are perfect for busy moms like me. 

Hahahaha!!!  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hLcDZStRjyY&feature=related

So I decided to change my style altogether.  I will now be a Jeans Wearer.  It's okay to be somewhat normal, I guess, for the sake of practicality and looking decent.  I've also gone back to wearing makeup and styling my hair, two things that had gone by the wayside over the past year. 

I still refuse, however, to go to the trouble of shaving my hairy legs.  (Thank God I married a European who doesn't give a darn about these things.)  So, obviously, the jeans will really come in handy for that.



Total cost of new outfit: about two dollars, thanks to the clothing-by-the-pound deal at Good Cents!





P.S. I showed this photo to my oldest daughter, and her response was, "Who's that?"



Three Is a Magic Number?

Ever since my son, my third child, was born almost nine months ago, I've been asking myself if my husband and I will have any more children together.  For me, the answer has been "maybe"... and yes, that is crazy, but I'll explain.

I can think of a hundred excellent reasons why we shouldn't have more children.  In no particular order, some of them are:

1. We don't have the money, and our bank accounts aren't expected to grow anytime soon.
2. We have a small house with only three bedrooms... and that house needs repairs that we can't afford.
3. We have a sedan with only five seats... and that car will need to be replaced with something fuel-efficient.
4. My husband will be 48 years old next month, and has no desire to raise young kids during his retirement.
5. We'd love to go to England for the first time to visit family, and a bigger family means more travel costs.
6. More babies are bad for the environment!  If we care about the earth, we should stop having kids.
7. Both my husband and I have little free time or "we" time, and more kids means even less of that for us.
8. We would have to have fewer outside commitments (church, volunteer work) and less time with friends. 
9. We have committed ourselves to adopting at least one child, but more bio-kids lessens that possibility.
10. Our families would kill us, I think, if we had another one.  I think they're shocked that we have three between us, plus two other biological children (including my adult stepson).
11. Perhaps most importantly, more children means that our attention is divided between them, so they each would get less time with us.

So as you can see, having another baby would be pretty much ludicrous right now.  Plus, if we were to do it, we wouldn't do the sensible thing and wait a few years until the babies were older, because of my husband's age, so that would mean having perhaps three children ages three and under.  (Go ahead and laugh.)  Could I handle another child to diaper, to breastfeed, to potty train, to homeschool?  I've been stingy with my baby clothes and baby toys, waiting for another baby to be born, secretly hoping for one.  I am half-worried that my friends would disown me if I had another one... they've already been so good about me dragging my brood of three around.  There is a line from "Parenthood," one of my all-time favorite comedies, where one of the dads - whose wife is pregnant with their fourth child - is asking his dad for advice, and the dad shakes his head and says, "I never should have had four."

I had a talk with a close friend last week and she gave me her honest opinion (which I asked for) about having more kids.  She knows that it's as crazy as I think it is.  After our conversation, I half-considered going home and packing up the rest of the baby clothes for good, and donating them to someone who actually needed them, as many generous people have done for us.  That would be just one more step towards our Journey Towards Vasectomy.  Yes, my husband is perfectly willing to get sterilized, and I've been begging him to do it without telling me.  I don't know if I could take the anticipation.  (For the record, my husband agrees that we shouldn't have more babies, but doesn't seem very committal in his answer.)

So why even consider having more kids?

After my son's recent baptism... can you see my "oversmile"?

Another "oversmile" with my first daughter, almost five years ago.

Because kids are freaking amazing.  Because my gut tells me everything will be fine.  Because all I've wanted to do in my life is have a big, happy family.  Because, dammit, I want to do it before I can't.

My husband and I have happy, healthy, lovely children and a happy, healthy, strong marriage.  We have an involved extended family and we live in a great community.  We talked about having a big family - 10 kids was our original number, haha - since we were first dating.  Obviously, I am not trying to compete with the Duggars or even the Gosselins, but four young children seems like a great number.  We could stop there, right?  Four is perfect, right?  Or is this baby-fever taking over and making me think irrational thoughts?

"Easter"

More than bonnets, patent leather, and pastel collars...
More than bright bulletins and collection plate dollars...
More than ham, potatoes, rolls, and greens,
More than chocolate bunnies, more than jelly beans...
More than all the metaphors mean...
More than arguing over God's existence...
More than just political resistence...
The rebirth, the resurrection, the truth, the life...
The starting over. 
The speak.



"...I have passed with a nod of the head
Or polite meaningless words,
Or have lingered awhile and said
Polite meaningless words,
And thought before I had done
Of a mocking tale or a gibe
To please a companion
Around the fire at the club,
Being certain that they and I
But lived where motley is worn:
All changed, changed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born...."
-from "Easter, 1916" by William Butler Yeats

Random Thoughts

Here we go:

1. My mother-in-law is coming into town today, and my house no longer looks like it was raided by candy-hyper, cyclonic gremlins.  Score!

2. I am not sure which is more disappointing: an arrogant religious person or an arrogant atheist.  Maybe arrogance is the real problem. 

3. Why are babies so deliciously addictive?  I mean, I should know better than to want another one!

4. I watched a biography of the late televangelist Tammy Faye, and it showed her in such a sympathetic light that I wanted to be more like her.  Is that bizarre?

5. I am terrible at writing thank-you notes, and even worse at calling people.  I need to stop making excuses.

6. I really miss being on Facebook.  Unfortunately, being off has not had the desired effect - that is, giving me more time with my family - because I have replaced Facebook with other distractions. 

7. "We Are the World" is still a kick-butt song.  I love it.  However, I realized just how old I'd gotten when I recognized all of the artists from the 1985 version, but only about 2/3rds of the ones from the 2010 remake: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Glny4jSciVI&NR=1&feature=fvwp
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k2W4-0qUdHY&feature=related

8. It is April 2011 already?  Wow.  Life is pretty darn good right now.

The Joy of Siblings

One of the wonderful things about having more than one child is that I get to see how my children interact with each other, teach each other, and enrich each other's lives.  (Yes, this is despite the "Ow, she pushed me" moments, of which I am well aware.)  

Lolly reading to Toot-Toot



It is a proud and happy thing to see one child teach another. 

Toot-Toot "reading" to Ola



I was raised, in a sense, as an only child.  My brother was born when I was twelve years old (after my parents had remarried each other), and I didn't meet my older half-sister until after our brother's birth. However, for those first twelve years, I was the only child and grandchild in my family.  Spoiled doesn't even begin to describe me, I am sure.  My mother had lost two siblings in accidents before they reached adulthood, and I think that their early deaths led my family to be extra-protective of me. (Though I won't blame anyone but myself for my neuroticism.)



A rare reunion, two years ago



Oh, how I wanted a brother or sister so badly!  I used to pray for one, against all odds.  But when my little brother (who is now almost 6'8" tall) was born, I was so much older than him that I felt more like an aunt than a sister.  But no matter... I will always have a brother and a sister, even though we are not as close as I wish we were.  Amazing now to think that my little brother is a parent himself and my big sister is going to be a grandmother.  Wow.

Of course, there are perks to being an only child.  My early school years were probably helped greatly by the fact that I had the attention of many adult relatives.  I didn't have to share my toys, or anything else, very often.  (Side note: at one point shortly after my parents divorced for the first time, my father briefly remarried, and I instantly had two older stepsiblings.  I remember little about my stepsister, April, but I do still have one item from her: a card that she made for me.  It says, "I love you, even though you are selfish.")

There are also perks to having only one child.  I speak with some of my girlfriends who have one child and I notice that they are able to not only have more one-on-one time with the child, but also more free time for themselves.  There are fewer decisions and compromises to make, I would imagine.

However, I feel so blessed to have three little ones (and an adult stepson) who can love and support each other long after my husband and I are gone.  Plus, there are some practical benefits, including the fact that siblings usually entertain each other.  If I am too exhausted to finish another round of fingerplays and nursery rhymes, I ask Lolly to do them for Toot-Toot and Ola, and she is only too happy to help!  They play games with each other, feed each other, comfort each other, and teach each other.  When it works, it's magical.

See here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=skx5ZzcaArA









God, Kids, Husband. In that order.

"Cranky" is going to be crankier than usual today with this blog.  Please forgive my strong opinions on this one, and bear with my hypothetical reasoning.

Several times this week, I've heard stories about people putting their spouses before their children in terms of priority. 

On one of the "Real Housewives" reality shows, the wife often talks about how, in a Christian marriage, God comes first, spouse comes second, and children come third: http://alexis-bellino.com/tag/god-first/ 

Then I read about an author couple in which the wife is seen to be almost obsessive in her love for her husband, and much less effusive about her children: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ayelet_Waldman#Controversial_essay_about_marriage

Finally, I saw this over-the-top post from an English husband regarding his family: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-1376681/I-resent-children-stealing-wifes-love.html

I realize that I am far from the first person to respond to this issue, and I also realize that this is merely a theoretical construct, but I still feel it's worthy of attention.

First, let me make this clear: I love my husband to death.  He is my best friend, and in some ways, my hero.  He's a brilliant, sweet, supportive, affectionate, funny, deeply spiritual, responsible, and honest man... not to mention, a fabulous dad.  We have stumbled upon a kind of Ozzie-and-Harriet relationship these days in that my husband is the sole breadwinner and I stay home with the kids.  However, the man is a feminist who still manages to bring me coffee every single morning and roses for no reason.  He wrote me poetry and even served as my "doula" when I was a surrogate.  He baptizes our babies, reads stories in silly voices, spends his weekends doing chores, and has never said an unkind or untrue word to me (or to anyone, if memory serves).  He doesn't have a jealous or spiteful bone in his body.  My family adores him.  There is not much more that anyone could ask for in someone, in my opinion.  You could say I am rather fond of him.  I realize how fortunate I am.  (I even have amazingly awesome in-laws, as a bonus!)

But would I put my children before my husband?  Absolutely, and I'll tell you why.

1. Children are vulnerable, and they must be protected.  My husband is a grown man who can, in most aspects, take care of himself.  My children need help, like any other children, and so tending to their needs trumps tending any non-vulnerable adult's needs.  That's a no-brainer. 
2. Children didn't ask to be born.  My husband and I, as their parents, had control over that, and therefore we have an additional duty (again, a no-brainer) to be responsible for them.  However, my husband and I chose to be together and to commit ourselves to each other; in the extremely unlikely event that we'd ever change our minds, that decision is also within our control.

Sure, I understand what my critics are probably saying: a happy, strong marriage makes a happy, strong family.  It's important to tend to one's marriage/partnership for the sake of the family, and that bodes well for the kids.  In most cases, I'd agree wholeheartedly to this.  I do believe that the kind of love that my husband and I model with each other, as well as the way we model our cooperation, conflicts, affection, and so forth, are really important.  I also think that it helps that we are a united front when it comes to family values, discipline, and the like.  (That doesn't mean we always agree, of course, but we back each other up on the important stuff.)

But the idea that kids are at the bottom of the list really churns my stomach.  They are kids!  (Should I underline that for emphasis?)  One real-life, tragic example is of a relative who stood by her husband even when her children were being abused by him, and who claimed that it was the biblical thing to do.  If, God forbid, something happened and I had to choose between the lives of my children and the lives of my husband, I would choose my children's lives... after all, I'd choose their lives over mine anyday.  Children are precious, no matter to whom they were born.  Case closed.


But what about the "God" part?  My many loved ones who would consider themselves agnostic or atheist might wonder about this.  To explain... I think of God as my highest ideals, the source of love and the ultimate.  I would put God first - or honestly, I would hope to, but reality says I often fall short - because God, for me, equals life and all of humanity.  Life itself is more important than even one precious family, even though, of course, every family is an indivisible part of that big picture.  (Clear as mud?)  But love conquers all, and it isn't party-loyal to kith and kin, as they say.

One final postscript: the Dailymail piece is from someone who would be writing for the Reluctant Dad website.  The site has got to be a joke, right?  http://www.reluctantdad.com/  Some people really shouldn't have kids.   http://www.nytimes.com/2009/06/04/books/04masl.html

Do these children ever make it to adulthood without hating their fathers or becoming misanthropes?  I hope not.  What do you think?

My Ultra-Critical, Tongue-in-Cheek Review of the Worst Children's Movie

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.]

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: 

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.

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

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:

"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



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.

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

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! 

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.

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. 

...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. 



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...

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*

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.

We told her that she could read before bed...