Showing posts with label Musings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Musings. Show all posts

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Beyond the Brothers Grimm


In the early years, much of Waldorf education is centered around Grimm's fairy tales, and I understand why-- the Brothers Grimm bring a lot to the table. Archetypal figures, clear cut examples of good and evil, beautiful descriptions that allow children to create a picture in their hearts and minds, these fairy tales have captured the hearts of parents and children alike for generations. Beyond that, they are part of our collective heritage and hearing them gives children a cultural literacy that is sadly falling by the wayside in our society.

However, they are not without problems. The protagonist is often described in very Eurocentric terms-- white skin, golden hair, and so on. In Mother Holle, for example, the good, hard-working daughter is rewarded with riches and gold. The lazy daughter is turned black. This white = good, black = bad imagery is found in many stories, even modern day ones (for example, Harry the Dirty Dog) but it's prevalence shouldn't make it any more acceptable to us. Just as we hope the positive, enduring messages of the fairy tales make their way into the souls of our children, we should be aware that unwelcoming, stereotypical messages are being heard on some level as well.

When I was in a classroom ten years ago, a great deal was being said about multicultural education. While the intent of multuculturalism is positive-- teaching children about other cultures so they will grow to respect them and not fall into the trap of racism and prejudice-- this path often leads to a tourist approach to other cultures. To celebrate Chinese New Year, we might tell a story from the Chinese culture, followed by making a dragon, cooking a "Chinese" dish, making a "Chinese" hat, singing a "Chinese" song. Instead of focusing on learning about the Chinese people or the diversity of culture found in China, we exoticize and trivialize the culture, comparing it to our own as if we are the measuring stick for all things. It is as if we want to divide the world into two sections: people who are "just like us" and people who are "different from us."

Beyond multiculturalism is the anti-bias approach, which actively seeks to challenge prejudice, stereotypes, and bias. Instead of being "color blind"-- which really only works if you are part of the dominant culture; minorities do not have that luxury-- we encourage children's questions and observations, and aren't afraid to add to the conversation. It frees us to appreciate similarities and differences.

This is not to say that we should have long, drawn-out, adult-initiated conversations with our children about the heady topic of race. As in all things, Waldorf education in the early years seeks to educate through imitation, a warm and loving environment, imaginative play, and meaningful work. It respects a child's connection to nature and to their home environment. It seeks to create a rhythmic and predictable environment as a child grows more and more into themselves and becomes more aware of the world around them.

What, then, can we as parents do to encourage a non-biased approach without being overly didactic in our methods? I have several suggestions.

~ Choose books that show people of all colors and cultures, and not just one or two as a token. Some of my favorites are
More, More, More Said the Baby by Vera B. Williams
Hooray! A Pinata! by Elisa Klevins
Ten, Nine, Eight by Molly Bang
Swimmy by Leo Lionni

Avoid books with "I is for Indian"-type stereotypes.

~ In your play kitchen, include food and utensils from other cultures. I've seen many lovely online tutorials for felt food from around the world.

~ When choosing art materials, include skin-toned paper, paints, crayons, and play dough. I am well aware of the controversy in Waldorf education surrounding the use of brown and black crayons and frankly, find it ridiculous.

~ Play games and sing songs from other cultures and in other languages. Sing simple songs in more than one language.

~ Make dolls and doll clothes using a variety of skin tones and facial features.

~ Be aware of your own use of language. Don't make disparaging comments about the colors black and brown. If you're child makes a comment about something being "yucky brown like poop and dirt" you can counter with a comment about "beautiful brown like cinnamon and chocolate."

~ Use folk tales and fairy tales from other cultures. Tell the stories with puppets and table dolls that represent those cultures.

It's a complex subject and one that sadly, in a fallen world, I don't think we're ever truly going to get "right". But there's a lot we can do to be proactive. If we can't create a perfect world, we can, perhaps, work together to make a better one.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Goodbye to Alleluia

Taking down the Alleluia at church.

We desist from saying Alleluia, the song chanted by angels, because we have been excluded from the company of the angels on account of Adam's sin. In the Babylon of our earthly life we sit by the streams, weeping as we remember Sion. For as the children of Israel in an alien land hung their harps upon the willows, so we too must forget the Alleluia song in the season of sadness, of penance, and bitterness of heart.~Bishop William Duranti (1296)

I finally know what I'm doing for Lent.

In the past, I've always been of the opinion that if you're going to be miserable, you may as be miserable for a purpose. Lose some weight, drop a bad habit, pick up a good one in its stead. But after reading Sister Mary Martha, I've been convicted and now share her opinion that Lent is not for self-improvement. So instead, I've picked something that I know will make me absolutely miserable. Yay!

Seriously, and without going into too much detail, I may not be hanging out on the internet so much. On the other hand, my time online may end up being much more productive, as I'm hoping my Lenten discipline will make me more... um... disciplined. But again, being disciplined is not a pleasant thing for me. I don't even hold out hope it will benefit me beyond Lent. I'm doing it purely because I know it will make me miserable and will make God happy.

Today, we packed up the Valentine's day decorations. Tomorrow, we put ashes on our forehead, fast, pray, and make promises. We'll shroud the crosses and statues with purple and get out the Stations of the Cross. We'll begin our Lenten journey. The little ones will make Lenten Boxes and we'll hide the Alleluia until Easter.

And so, I wish you a blessed and holy Lent.
Daniel and his Sunday School friends, dancing goodbye to Alleluia.

Thursday, February 4, 2010

Must-Have Toys

Transportation toys

Babies to love (homemade is best!)...

Animals (Wooden, knit, and felt)...

Playstands or even chairs for building...
Lego! Yes they're plastic, but they're fun.

Toys from nature...



Play silks and dress ups...

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

We, as persons, are not enlightened by means of multiple-choice tests or grades, but rather by the other people in our lives that we come to know, admire, and love. We are educated by our friendships and our intimacies... Whether it is gardening, keeping house, or governing a state, love of work-- like love of people-- teaches things that no school, no system can.
-- Karen Andreola


Monday, February 1, 2010

Nourishing the Senses


"Physical environment" must be understood in the widest sense imaginable.
It includes not just what happens around the children in the material sense,
but everything that can be perceived by their senses,
that can work on the inner powers of the children from the surrounding physical space."
~ Steiner, The Education of the Child


As I struggle... again... with a resolution made and not even begun to declutter the house, I find myself pondering this quote. I know that a child, especially a young child, is strongly affected by their physical environment. I believe with my whole heart that this in turn effects every aspect of their lives, including learning. A child learns through their senses. One of my favorite Waldorf quotes is the one that refers to an infant as "one big sense organ". It makes sense that a cluttered, messy, noisy setting would have a negative influence, just as a clean, orderly, peaceful setting full of beauty has a positive one.

If we believe in the mandate to "do all things with love," it makes sense to bring that intention not only to our parenting but also to creating a gentle environment for our little ones. We can not only make their worlds physically neat and ordered, but also give them joy, peace, and a listening ear. By our example and planning, we can introduce them them to the idea of balance, of in-breathing and out-breathing.

I've often spoke of a strong daily, weekly, monthly, yearly rhythm as a foundation, and it's true. Rhythms that I thoughtfully laid in place almost eleven years ago when Michael was a baby still support and uphold and (I hope!) enrich our lives. They've evolved and in some cases when they no longer served us, they've been discarded, but for the most part they are still there, a solid underpinning as we go along.

But lately I've been thinking of these rhythms and routines in a more organic way. They're an ocean that carry our family along. Sometimes it gets a little rough and choppy, but for the most part, we can rest on the rhythms and be peacefully carried along, knowing that they'll eventually guide us home.

If rhythms and routines are the ocean, the home environment is the port. I would encourage you to be intentional about making your port a beautiful one. A peaceful one. A gentle one. Let those sensory connections your child makes in their early ones be connections that tell them the world is a great big beautiful loving place.

Friday, January 15, 2010

Shhhh...


I haven't felt like I've had a whole lot to say this week.

Haiti is weighing heavily on my heart. I feel so helpless and so hopeless, and I almost find myself longing for the days when around-the-world news was not a click (of the dial... of the channel... of the internet...) away. But I know this is selfish-- not knowing about the news doesn't mean that it doesn't exist, of course-- and so I force myself to look at the images, listen to the stories, hear the ever-growing tally as losses are counted. Anything I could possibly do seems to small and worthless, but of course, I know this is not helpful either.

I'm also finding myself getting angry: angry at politicians and celebrities and spokespersons saying stupid things, trying to make their points on the backs of so many innocent victims; angry at well-meaning friends who share false information without taking a moment to find out whether or not it's true; angry at the inevitable scammers and swindlers and vultures who always swoop into situations like this, picking the bones of other people's tragedies for their own selfish gain.

On top of that, I've been engaging in some not-so-healthy behaviors, staying up til 1 or 2 AM each night, not doing anything of significance. I haven't been diligent about going to the gym or praying or getting ready for school the next day, and both my household and my state of mind has suffered. I haven't been taking my vitamins or eating healthy food or even getting a few minutes of sunshine every day.

One bright spot-- in the middle of the week we all packed it up for the day and went to Baltimore. Daddy had to be there to tour the distribution center for Kathryn's Closet, and our membership to the Chicago Museum of Science and Industry from vacation this summer meant that we got to visit the Maryland Science Center for free. We packed our lunch to keep costs at a minimum, and treated ourselves to dinner at Ikea, a store I love but rarely get to visit. The day trip was lovely, but it made getting into an already rough week even more difficult.

Another bright spot-- meeting with the other mamas in my co-op last night, laughing about denim jumpers and garden gnomes and crazy brilliant children whom we are honored and blessed to shepherd through their learning years. It was wonderfully silly and relaxing, until another homeschool mama who has bucketfulls of my respect asked me "What is your goal for your children at the end of homeschooling?" and I found myself stuttering that I had never really thought about it. Sigh.

I've also found myself thinking a lot about this post over at The Snail's Trail, and the pressure we Mommy Bloggers put on ourselves to be perfect. I find myself inundated with ideas and activities but no time to do them, and it frustrates me almost as much as the knowledge that as long as I am holding myself up to the measuring sticks of the other amazing mothers out there on the internet, I will never be good enough.

And so, I think it's time to close up the old laptop for a few days and reconnect with my family, my purpose, my rhythms and routines, but most of all with my God and with myself. It's time to reign things in and think about why I'm doing all this.

It's time for a little quiet.

Monday, January 11, 2010

Thoughts on Joy


Joy is a net of love by which you can catch souls. ~Blessed Mother Teresa

Joy increases as you give it, and diminishes as you try to keep it for yourself. ~Norman Vincent Peale

"Joy delights in joy." ~William Shakespeare

"One of the sanest, surest, and most generous joys of life comes from being happy over the good fortune of others." ~Robert Heinlein

"I do not teach children. I give them joy." ~Isadora Duncan

"Joy is the echo of God's life in us." ~Abbott Coumba Marmion

"Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning." ~Psalm 30:5

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

More than one type of noise...

Today I caught myself being short with my children.

Now, don't get me wrong. This is by no means an isolated event. But today, the realization of what it all meant hit me hard.

I have a lot of irons in the fire right now. I'm frantically trying to finish up an Advent edition of Seasons of Joy. I'm homeschooling a kindergartener, a third grader, and a fifth grader. I have a toddler underfoot. I have a short story I'm working on. I'm trying to work out at home or get to the gym anyway. And it's the Week of the Kitchen, so I'm trying to scrub out the fridge and scour the sink and clean the woodwork and degrunge the floor.

So when I went down in the basement to switch the laundry and put in a new load, I actually took a deep breath and lingered for a moment, enjoying the quiet and peace of being in the only level of the house with no children.

"Mooooo--oooooooooommmmmmm!!!!!"

And I have to admit, my response was a not very nice, "WHAT?!?"

And right away, I felt ashamed.

You see, the other things are important. The new Advent guide will (hopefully!) help pay for Christmas. A clean kitchen will help us all feel more peaceful. And the pesky state likes to be assured that I am properly educating my children.

But the most important thing of all is that I love them.

If I speak in the languages of humans and angels but have no love, I have become a reverberating gong or a clashing cymbal.

In that moment, it hit me. Those other things are important, but they're only a means to an end. In the end, I'm not commanded to write or clean or even to educate, but to love. Sometimes, all this business and busyness is nothing more than another type of noise.

So I went upstairs, and tried to breathe the busyness out. I snuggled the baby, read to my kindergartener, kissed my daughter, and took the time to listen to my oldest. And somewhere deep inside, my soul breathed a sigh of relief, recognizing that this was what I was supposed to be doing.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Prayer for the Poor

This was in our church newsletter as part of the "Taking Faith Home" series. It seemed to fit in nicely with the feast of St. Martin of Tours this week.

Jesus,
You are the Word-- to be spoken;
The Truth-- to be told;
The Way-- to be walked;
The Light-- to be shone;
The Joy-- to be shared;
The Bread of Life-- to be given;
The Hungry-- to be fed;
The Naked-- to be clothed;
The Homeless-- to be taken in;
The Sick-- to be healed;
The Lonely-- to be loved;
The Unwanted-- to be wanted;
The Little One-- to be embraced.

Lord Jesus, you are with the poor and needy around us.
Help us to be your hands, feet, and voice to them. Amen.

Saturday, October 17, 2009

20 days to being a more mindful mother

As usual, I'm a bit late to the game, LOL!

Carrie over at The Parenting Passageway just completed Day 20 of her series "20 Days to Being a More Mindful Mother." And so, of course, I'm going to start tomorrow with Day 1. Things are a bit off-kilter around here, and so I was thinking today that I needed something to help me get centered again. I remembered this series, and decided that if I publicly make a commitment to follow it, I'll have no choice.

So... away we go!

Thursday, October 15, 2009

October 15: Pregnancy and Birth Loss Remembrance Day

Today, we remember our little ones who died, either in the womb or close to their birthing days. Of course, as mothers, we remember them every day. But today, we ask a society that sometimes would rather keep pregnancy and birth loss as something whispered about behind closed doors, to remember with us.

Tonight at 7 PM, I lit a candle as part of the "Lights of Love" campaign. I remembered Mary Elizabeth, our first baby who died at 13 weeks over ten years ago. I also remembered my two very recent losses, Samuel Paul and Maria Hope. I remember also my dear friends and their babies-- "real life" friends and the strong compassionate women I've met online. God be with you on this day and give you peace.



Sunday, October 11, 2009

Faith, Hope, and Love

I've been having trouble sleeping lately, and so I've been praying the rosary. When I was little, someone once told me that if you fall asleep praying the rosary, your guardian angel finishes it for you. It seemed like a win-win solution.

Another rosary tradition left over from my childhood is to say before the each of the three Hail Marys at the beginning "For an increase of faith...," "For an increase of hope...," and "For an increase of love."

I get why we need to pray for our faith to be increased, and I understand why we need more love. But to be honest, I've never understood why hope was lumped in with the other two. I've always thought of hope not so much as a necessity, but as a luxury, something that's nice to have because it makes our days more pleasant.

We're losing another baby. We were really shocked when we found out I was pregnant so soon after the miscarriage. We had an early ultrasound, and there was concern because they couldn't see the baby's heartbeat. Then, three days later, there it was--a beautiful little flutter on the ultrasound. And now, two weeks after... nothing. No heartbeat, no growth, no increase in HCG levels. No life.

I have faith and I have love, but hope is a little hard to come by right now.

"Hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what he already has?" So writes St. Paul in the book of Romans. He then goes on to say "But if we wait for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently."God promises in Isaiah that "those who hope in Me will not be disappointed."

Right now, I'm very disappointed. I won't lie. Not in God, but in the state of things. I'm beginning to see how inextricably entwined faith, hope, and love are. I'm finding myself despairing a little. And so, there is nothing left to do but to pray.

For an increase of faith.

For an increase of love.

For an increase of hope.

Sunday, August 9, 2009

Examination of Conscience

We leave for vacation tomorrow, and the house is, predictably, a mess. This isn't hyperbole-- two months of morning sickness followed by recovery from a miscarriage has left things in a pretty awful state. As I was cleaning this morning, I started having these weird little ticky things that I always thought was just one more weird thing about me, but turns out they are actually juvenile partial clonic seizures that I have been having since the eighth grade.

Generally, they're not a big deal. But when I am particularly tired or sick or stressed, they start coming one on top of the other, and that seriously wrecks havoc with my quality of life. I didn't understand why I was having them though. After a week of no sleep, I've actually gotten two solid nights of eight+ hours of sleep. And my body really does seem to be healing, especially after I visited the chiropractor, so it wasn't that I was feeling ill. Then I realized-- STRESS!

You see, I don't particularly want to go on this vacation. It's not that I don't want to see my friends, because I do. Nor is it that I don't want spend time with my family, because I love the long talks my husband and I have in the car and seeing my kids experience new things. I've just had a rough summer. I had great plans-- by the end of the summer I was supposed to have accomplished a years' worth of homeschool planning, a summer's worth of Camp Half-Blood, and four month's worth of gestation. Instead, I have no planning done, we did little-to-no camp, and the baby is gone. Before I knew I was pregnant, I had planned to paint all the walls this summer, as well as the planning and camp. And like my other plans, those disappeared.

So you see, it's not that I don't want to go on vacation. I just have this terrible feeling of a wasted summer. My original plans, I was happy to set aside in the hopes of a baby. But now that dream is gone too, and I feel like three months have gone by with nothing to show for it. Instead of a vacation, I feel like what I should be doing is scrubbing floors and painting walls and planning units and organizing school stuff. And these feelings lead to stress, which, in my case at least, leads to seizures.

When I sit down and breathe and pray, I know it's not for nothing. I know that in God's economy--which, thank goodness, is nothing like my own--sacrificing my own wants and needs for those I love, even a tiny unborn baby, isn't wasted. I know what God says in Jeremiah--"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Knowing and feeling are two different things, unfortunately, and I find myself with feelings of sadness and despair.

It's hard to know what to do with these feelings. So, I do what I can today. I tidy up the school stuff. I build the other set of cubbies. I wash a hundred loads of laundry. I help the children pack. I breathe. Much as I did a little over two months ago when I first found I was pregnant, I surrender myself to the moments. I set aside my plans, and accept what the Lord has planned instead. Apparently, the Lord planned for me to go to vacation in Iowa. He wants to me to be with the family he blessed me with, and to have a wonderful time.

See you in two weeks!

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

God, gods, and The Lightning Thief

Fantasy literature has always been a bit of a conundrum for the Christian reader. Throw small children into the mix, and it's positively controversial. When we did Hogwarts Summer School several summers ago, the question "What does a Christian do with Harry Potter?" is one that came up quite often. In a way, J. K. Rowling made it easy-- God is barely mentioned in her books, unless someone is taking His name in vain. Nevertheless, the Christian message in the series shines through, especially in the last book, and the story told mirrors The Story. After reading the series for myself as well as the thoughts of other authors (John Granger's (no relation to Hermione) Looking for God in Harry Potter comes to mind), I felt perfectly comfortable inviting Harry Potter into our Christian home.

This summer, as we enjoy our own version of Camp Half-Blood, the question comes up again. This time, it's "What does a Christian do with the Olympians series?" Fortunately, Rick Riordan makes it a little easier for us by addressing the situation in his first book.

"Wait," I told Chiron, "You're telling me there's such a thing as God?"

"Well, now," Chiron said. "God-- capital G, God. That's a different matter altogether. We shan't deal with the metaphysical."

"Metaphysical? But you were just talking about--"

"Ah, gods, plural, as in, great beings that control the forces of nature and human endeavors; the immortal gods of Olympus. That's a smaller matter."

"Smaller?"

"Yes, quite..."

--The Lightning Thief, Rick Riordan


A smaller matter? Well, yes and no.

It would be easy to say that Mr. Riordan packs God-with-a-capital-G away in a nice little package and tucks Him off in a closet for the remainder of the series, but of course, that's never the way of it. The children ask questions, they seem the similarities and--more importantly-- the dissimilarities-- between the Greek gods and their God, and they ask ponder the answers.

How can a god be so fickle?

How could a god break his promise?

Why can't a god do what he pleases?


And with all of these questions, they're scratching the surface, getting at the nature of the God they love and worship. This is what good books help us do.

In Book Two, The Sea of Monsters, Chiron is explaining to Percy his place in the grand scheme of things.

"...Humans don't exist on the same level as the immortals. They can't even be hurt by our weapons. But you, Percy-- you are part god, part human. You live in both worlds. You can be harmed by both, and you can affect both. That's what makes heroes so special. You carry the hopes of humanity into the realm of the eternal. Monsters never die. They are reborn from the chaos and barbarism that is always bubbling under civilization, the very stuff that makes Kronos stronger. They must be defeated again and again, kept at bay. Heroes understand that struggle. You fight the battles humanity must win, every generation, in order to stay human. Do you understand?"

-The Sea of Monsters, Rick Riordan

Heady stuff for the 9-to-11-year old set.

I don' pretend to know what Mr. Riordan's particular brand of spirituality is, if any. I've read his blog a bit, and can't really get a feeling for it. Honestly, I don't think it really matters. I've always been a big believer that Truth-with-a-capital-T can make itself known through just about anything, and I believe that Greek mythology in general and the Percy Jackson books in particular speak some real Truth about the nature of humans and the nature of God.

Rick Riordan's words echo the sentiment put forth by Michael Card in his song "Joy in the Journey":
To all who are born of the Spirit
And who share incarnation with Him,
Who belong to eternity, stranded in time,
And weary of struggling with sin--
Forget not the hope that's before you,
And never stop counting the cost.
Remember the hopelessness when you were lost.

In God's kingdom, we're all called to be heroes. We're all called to fight the demons, the monsters, the darkness, time and time again, because monsters never die. In Christianity, as adopted daughters and sons of the true Immortal One, we take up our arms, not by our own wits or power and not abandoned by a fickle god, but supported by the one true God, and we fight against the chaos and barbarism that has been part of this world since the Fall.

Pretty heady stuff for all of us.

Monday, May 4, 2009

Crisis in the Kindergarten


This article made its way through my Facebook friends today, and it really gave me pause.

A survey of 254 teachers in New York and Los Angeles the group commissioned found that kindergartners spent two to three hours a day being instructed and tested in reading and math. They spent less than 30 minutes playing. “Play at age 5 is of great importance not just to intellectual but emotional, psychological social and spiritual development,” says Edward Miller, the report’s co-author. Play — especially the let’s-pretend, dramatic sort — is how kids develop higher-level thinking, hone their language and social skills, cultivate empathy. It also reduces stress, and that’s a word that should not have to be used in the same sentence as “kindergartner” in the first place.

And to what end?

Regardless of the cause, Miller says, accelerating kindergarten is unnecessary: any early advantage fades by fourth grade. “It makes a parent proud to see a child learn to read at age 4, but in terms of what’s really best for the kid, it makes no difference.” For at-risk kids, pushing too soon may backfire. The longitudinal High/Scope Preschool Curriculum Comparison Study followed 68 such children, who were divided between instruction- and play-based classrooms. While everyone’s I.Q. scores initially rose, by age 15, the former group’s academic achievement plummeted. They were more likely to exhibit emotional problems and spent more time in special education.

And while this article has implications for homeschoolers--especially Waldorf homeschoolers
I wonder how far I’m willing to go in my commitment to the cause: would I embrace the example of Finland — whose students consistently come out on top in international assessments — and delay formal reading instruction until age 7?

I believe it's a disservice to all children to simply toss out "Well see, that's why I homeschool" and leave it like that. I believe that we all have an obligation to all the children in our society, homeschoolers or not, and that every child deserves a happy and long childhood. And while homeschooling works out great for us, I realize that not every family has the means or the inclination to school their children at home.

So, where does this leave us? With a bunch of children who are being drilled for skills that may not even be there in another few years, a bunch of teachers who are being forced to abandon everything they know to be true about child development so they can teach to the test, and a bunch of legislators who, while they may be well-meaning, are mistaken none the less. It leaves us with a system of education that is flawed, and that guarantees that all children will be leaving their childhoods behind way earlier than they should have to. It leaves space for a revolutionary educational reform. For the sake of the children, I hope it comes soon.

Saturday, May 2, 2009

Pssst! Your line is...


Daniel is entering the social contract stage of toddlerhood. At least that's what I call it in my own mind. When he sneezes, he looks around expectantly. If you miss your cue, he looks at you disappointingly and says, "Bless me! Bless me!" and then fake sneezes to give you a second chance. If he burps (or, even more amusing in his mind, toots) he looks up at you and practically shouts "'Scuse me!" and then follows it up by practically bursting a blood vessel trying to repeat the performance.

This new-found awareness of social cueing shows itself in ways that don't involve body functions as well. If he hits or bites and sees how sad he has made his brothers or sister, his little face falls. On his own, he walks up to them, pats whatever part of them he can reach. "Sowwy. Sowwy." And best of all, he will walk up to us, lay his head on our lap, and say "Wuv oo," knowing that it will only be a moment before we respond back to him-- "Love you too!"

It's amazing to me how quickly infants and toddlers pick up on the niceities of language and social interaction. They have expectations, both of being treated courteously and of being kind to others, even if that kindness sometimes happens after they've caused harm. It reinforces my belief that children who grow up being treated with love and gentleness and dignity learn to treat others that way in return.

And of course, there's also something in the way he gently gives me a do-over when I'm preoccupied and rudely forget to play the game. To a toddler, language is all about give and take, and there's no way he's going to let me get out of saying my lines.

"Bye bye, Mama. See oo later."

*leaves room*

*comes back*

"See oo later, Mama."

"See you later, Daniel. Love you!"

"Love oo Mama."

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Long time, no blog

Sigh. I don't know what's been happening. I've had a really hard time getting my act together since Christmas (yeah, I said Christmas. I know it's crazy!)

So, what's been happening? A lot! Homeschool is going well. Katie Grace had a math unit in January (addition and subtraction with regrouping and borrowing) and is now doing an Aesop's Fables unit. Michael had a fraction unit in January, and boy was it a doozy! Right now he's enjoying a bookmaking unit. Not the gambling kind, but the kind where he wrote a story and we're going to bind it into a book. Nicholas is just plugging along doing wintery things. Daniel is just along for the ride.

Speaking of Daniel, he's had a language explosion. I love his little rudimentary attempts at sentences. "I help!" "I do!" "I up!" And, when playing ball with Michael, "Pass me!" "Catch me!" Notice he is the star in all his conversation, which is as it should be.

Yesterday Michael turned 10. Having a child in the double digits is something beyond my understanding. I just never believed it could happen, sort of like the night before I went to college when I was convinced Jesus was coming back because I couldn't believe I was leaving home. For his birthday he got a silly nerf basketball set he wanted and an MP3 player. I see strict limits on the MP3 player coming soon, because he won't put it down. He's having a skating party on Sunday afternoon.

Unfortunatly, an early birthday present has been an increase in bad attitude. I think he just has a bad case of the tweens, and we'll all adjust.

Nicholas is still pinging around the world like a hyperactive hummingbird. We think there's a pretty good chance he has ADD, and maybe a sensory processing disorder. I'm doing some research before we have him tested.

And Katie Grace is just lovely. She has her moments, but for the most part she is a little pocket of calm in this house of crazy. She sold 86 boxes of cookies for Brownies, and is currently occupied with learning her recital dance for May.

Chip has had an unusual amount of funerals since Christmas, which is sad. Things are chaotic and busy at church. They bought a building, are hosting a German seminarian, and busily fundraising for the trip to New Orleans this summer-- Jesus, Justice, and Jazz. Daniel and I are going along and I am so excited!

I joined a gym and Weight Watchers right after Christmas and have lost 16 pounds. I'm currently trying out the Couch to 5K program and am shocked to find that I can actually run on the treadmill! I also got a new laptop and have plans for linking my Seasons of Joy site and blog. I'll probably be renaming the blog "Our Seasons of Joy," which is actually (IMO) a great reflection of the life we try to live. I have lots of writing ideas as well, and just need to find the time to move them from my head to my laptop.

So, I'm going to unload the camera and post some way past due entries, and start all over again. Hope you've all had a great beginning of the year as well.

Saturday, November 29, 2008

Virtual Reality

"Advent is the perfect time to clear and prepare the Way. Advent is a winter training camp for those who desire peace. By reflection and prayer, by reading and meditation, we can make our hearts a place where a blessing of peace would desire to abide and where the birth of the Prince of Peace might take place.
Edward Hays

I've come to the sad conclusion lately that the internet is interfering with my life. Not blogging, mind you. The internet at large is also interfering with my blogging. But the countless message board entanglements are really getting to me, as well as the endless surfing (I still haven't reached the end of the internet!) and I think it's time to let some stuff go.

There are so many wonderful ideas to try, so many projects to make, so many tips to test, but if you just collect them and print them out, and are too busy to every actually try them, what good does it do?

And then there's the problem of trying to live someone else's life and the frustration of measuring up to people who don't even know you exist. Peeking in to a very filtered window to someone's life gives you such a narrow picture of how things are.

I've seen a lot of mommy bloggers burn out. Many of them have walked about from the internet for a while or forever when they've realized that their virtual information gathering and sharing was getting in the way of real life.

I want to grow my blog. Not because I want it to be a money maker--let's face it, that's pretty impossible--but because I want to be a blessing to others. But in order to do that, I need to let go of some of my online entanglements and figure out my priorities. There's some real life stuff that needs taken care of as well.

I want to work on making my house a home. For six years, I've been living in a state of perpetual transition, waiting to see if our circumstances would change. They haven't, and they won't be. It's time to step up.

Most of all, I want to work on bringing peace to my family. This is a time of year when, unfortunately, things tend to spiral out of control. I'd like this to be the year we reign everything back in.

I'm hoping to use this season of Advent to prune the things that aren't working. I'm letting go of some things that aren't working for me and my family anymore, and taking on some things that I've been wanting to do.

Peace to you, as well, as you begin your Advent journey.

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

from Some Fruits of Solitude

On fault finding

We tend to be very quick about finding faults in others, though we do not tolerate advice ourselves. Nothing shows our weakness more than to be so sharp-sighted at spotting others' faults, and so short-sighted about our own.
-- William Penn, Some Fruits of Solitude

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

from Some Fruits of Solitude

Let us begin where nature begins, go her pace, and end where she ends, and we cannot miss being good naturalists. Creation would no longer be a riddle to us. We would better understand the heavens, the earth, the waters, each with their numerous and varied inhabitants... If we better studied and understood God's creation, this would do a great deal to caution and direct us in our use of it.
--William Penn, Some Fruits of Solitude