Too Much Pressure

"Mommy," Alexander approached me with the plaintive voice that means something is bothering him. "I need to decide what I want to be when I grow up." The enormity of this task was clearly weighing on him.
If you had asked Alexander at age 4 what he wanted to be when he grew up, he would
have rattled off a list of about 5 things, mostly consisting of the
usual little-boy fantasy careers: dump truck driver, fire fighter, rock
star. But now that he's seven, he knows that his options are wide open
and he has plenty of time in the future to explore what jobs he might be right for him. If you ask him now, his answer is a very age-appropriate "I don't know."

I knew right away where this was coming from. This weekend, Alexander broke his pinky finger. The break was close enough to his knuckle that the urgent care doctor wanted him to see a hand specialist to make sure it didn't require any extraordinary measures. (It didn't.) Firmin took him to the hand doctor on Monday. When they came back, Firmin told me about how the doctor seemed to have a bit of a fixation on Alexander's future career choice. Asking a kid what he wants to be when he grows up is standard doctor small-talk, but this guy seemed to have a hard time taking "I don't know" for an answer. "He kept coming back to it", Firmin observed. We found this strange and mildly annoying, but didn't give it much more thought.

Alexander, on the other hand, apparently took it much more seriously. He told me the doctor said he had "two weeks to think about it" and he's going to ask again when we go back for the 2 week check. (why???) Xan is all stressed about this. Sigh. All my good mom advice about ignoring such rude behavior from the doctor, and how much time he has, blah, blah blah, is falling on deaf ears. He wants to have an answer, but he doesn't want to just make something up. "I don't want to tell him a lie!" Ah, my sweet, sweet, child! How can I argue with that? So we did a little brainstorming this evening. He was surprised to realize that there are real jobs with the Lego company. He found that intriguing. (We even looked up some vacancies -- many in Denmark!) "Video game designer" was another possibility. He laughed at my suggestion of saying he was going to be a bum and never leave home, but he won't really say that, of course. I secretly wish he would. I'd love to see the look on the doctor's face when I backed that statement up with a proud, beaming smile.

The larger issue here is why do some adults think it's cute to put kids on the spot like this? A *7* year old must have a specific career ambition? Does he really think that or is he simply unable to see when he's making his patients uncomfortable with his clueless banter? Does he badger his adult patients about stuff they'd rather not talk about? (I doubt it, though I've met one or two doctors who are socially inept enough to come close.) Why do adults do this? This doctor is not the only example we've experienced of otherwise nice grown-ups treating children like this. They repeatedly ask questions the child is clearly uncomfortable answering, or they insist that the child try or do something they clearly don't care to try or do. I'm not talking about things that the child should or must do for a good reason, such as saying "ah" so that the doctor can look at an infected throat. I'm talking about nagging a shy child to show off for a group, or quizzing a child (not their own) on something they are studying in school, even after it becomes clear they don't enjoy the quiz. I'm talking about insisting that a 7 year old decide on a future career in only 2 weeks and expecting him to realize it's a joke, except it's not really a joke because he knows you won't lay off until he gives a convincing answer.

Beautiful Living

Tonya at Plain and Joyful Living has a post up today entitled Vision.  She relates how her family's decision to live simply in rural Vermont has meant coming to terms with the fact that not everything on the homestead is beautiful.  Money to landscape nicely, haul away rubble from building projects, or repair the barn is not usually available, so they live with visions of future beauty among the not-so-beautiful parts, relying on the work of their hands and Providence.  This passage exemplifies her can-do spirit, I think:

I didn't want to look at those big ugly concrete blocks, however, so I am in the process of building a branch fence to put right in front of them. I will plant sweet peas in front of the fence and I can envision the beautiful flowers and green vines climbing over the fence this summer. I piled up rocks around the well head as a worked in the garden. There was trash to remove. I found some flat rocks to add to our entryway walkway. (The chickens enjoyed finding insects and worms while we were cleaning up!)

After reading (and admiring) her post, I found my thoughts taking a tangent on the role of consumerism in our conception of beauty and ugliness.  Beauty -- that is, the orderly, manufactured beauty that requires purchasing things -- is lifted up in our culture as a key to a happy, meaningful life.  This is a marketing ploy, of course, but it's wielded not only by mainstream corporate interests (which I am fairly successful at ignoring), but also by interests which are much more alluring to me. I'm invited to furnish my home with beautiful organic products, to purchase aesthetically-pleasing, artisan-made toys, tools and clothing that support local, independent manufacturers and merchants. (I almost feel guilty NOT buying them.)  I could landscape my yard with native vegetation and pave my ugly mud driveway with permeable concrete -- as beautiful as it is environmentally friendly!  My home really should have bamboo or cork floors (gorgeous!) instead of the dirty, undoubtedly toxic carpet we live with, shouldn't it?  Even at my co-operatively owned grocery, special products for beautiful sustainable living abound, strangly tempting even when I don't really need them. Hand-thrown pottery with eco-friendly glaze, or my grandmother's hand-me-down 1970's Corelle? Hmmm... (Actually, that one's a no-brainer with kids, and we could never afford the pottery anyway, but you get the idea.)

Frankly, waging this constant internal battle to resist these messages can be exhausting.  Marketers -- even ones who pay their office cleaning crew a living wage -- are clever, clever, clever.  They can make me forget what is truly beautiful in my life, and that's a shame on me, as much as them. 

On my best days, I feel good about how we are resisting consumerism in favor of other, more meaningful life experiences.  I can catch Tonya's vision and see that we are working toward a different kind of beauty in our lives, a kind of unkempt, wild beauty of gardens and fruit trees, of family togetherness and honey bees.  On my worst days, I feel like I'm not even doing a good job with the meaningful life experiences part, and I really just want some matching furniture.

October 2009

It's been a while since I've posted anything here. I've been wanting to put up something of substance, but honestly, my brain hasn't been ruminating on much that is original lately. I've been getting into the homeschooling routine for this year, finishing up the garden (still don't have the garlic planted yet), running to sports practices and games. I guess all of that external activity is not good for introspection and reflection. I still think about things, but mostly they are things that are brought to my mind externally -- from reading or hearing a news item or someone else's thoughts about a subject. I'm not reflecting long enough to form many  new or interesting ideas of my own. This doesn't feel bad or wrong; it's just where I am right now. As we head into November and the natural world goes dead and dark, perhaps I will be able to turn inward and find something worth writing about. In the mean time, here are some scenes from our house in October. Missing are pictures of Alexander's flag football. I really wish I had some, because 7 year old football players are super cute. :o) I think all of the recent pictures of Alexander are on Firmin's iPhone and I don't know how to download them. My own hit-or-miss shots with the real camera will have to do:

This is a typical mid-afternoon scene in the living room. The older kids are off playing elsewhere -- perhaps outside or on the computer -- having finished their school work for the day. I'm in the kitchen. Ethan has finished his nap, had a little Mommy time, and will play contentedly by himself for quite a while. What you can't get from the picture is the background sound track: The Wiggles, most definitely!


Firmin has always loved spending special one-on-one time at the table with the kids while they are little. I think Ethan looks especially like Firmin in this photo. He always has, but this picture captures a more mature face than Ethan usually exhibits, so the similarity stands out all the more. Ethan usually looks much more toddler-ish -- more like this:

Friend Ann washing some of the 200 chairs stored in our garage for eventual use in the new Meetinghouse. Between the grime from their previous life and the dust from being in our garage for a year, the cleaning crew had their jobs cut out for them!

Even hard work is fun if you get to use a power washer!

Brianna's bookshelf. (Found this on the camera -- she must have taken it.) The top shelf is her "stack" -- the books she is planning to read, aranged in the order she plans to read them. Most of the stack is composed of library books. The bottom shelf is a selection of books that she owns. This stack is average to small. Since this picture was taken, we've been back to the library. Her current stack is larger than usual and fills the top shelf completely!

Not Back to School Day 2009

Keeping the Sabbath

I don't know when the idea of Observing the Sabbath first came to me as something I might consider doing myself. It started as such a gentle nudge that it really seemed to just flit through my head by chance. One of those ideas that, if you notice it at all, you simply smile and shake your head at such an absurdity. But Spirit knows how I operate; I have to build up tolerance to an idea before I can adopt it. Over time, the idea of Sabbath came to me more frequently, first as a novelty, then as a more serious curiosity. When I found myself feeling a lack of "right order" in my life earlier this year, my heart was groomed to hear God's advice to me -- Remember the Sabbath and keep it holy.

My head was another story. I often feel pressed for time as it is. It would require compromises and re-arranging some of our routines. Firmin would *never* go for it -- he would think I'd gone 'round the bend -- and I couldn't really do it alone. The thought of even seriously discussing it with him seemed awkward. I'm already a weirder wife than he bargained for, why push the envelope this far? (I must state here that Firmin has been great about walking with me down many "alternative" paths, often enthusiastically. I don't know why I continue to think he's going to balk, but I once again, I did.) Spirit continued to nudge me with increasing force, but I resisted and rationalized and looked for some more reasonable, modern method of ordering my life. Some wonderful idea out of a magazine or someone's blog, maybe.

Then one day Firmin said (not for the first time) that he felt like we had "too much going on". He didn't put it in so many words, but after some discussion it was clear that what he was feeling was the same lack of "right order" that I felt. I tossed off the idea of Sabbath keeping as some silly idea that kept coming into my head lately: "Maybe we need to do something like that, I don't know..." He didn't respond right away and I figured that was the end of that idea. But later in the evening, he came to me and said it was exactly what we needed to do.

So we did it. This past First Day was our first observed Sabbath. We aren't following any particular set of rules, Jewish, Christian, or otherwise. We created our own definition of "work", based on what feels like work to us -- no cooking, yard work, household projects, or shopping. The only housework allowed is picking up after ourselves (and Ethan) as we go along through the day, so as not to create a stressful mess for Monday morning. Dishes were an item of concern for me. I suggested perhaps using paper plates and cups, even though that would not be the most environmentally responsible choice. I was unwilling to face a sink full of dirty dishes first thing on a Monday morning! Firmin had a better solution -- each person would be responsible for their own dishes, either washing them out after using them or putting them in the dishwasher. This worked beautifully and didn't feel like work to anyone. At the end of the day, the only soiled items were one or two serving dishes. We have also decided to forgo commercial activity, either for consumption or entertainment. I am abstaining from the computer, though I have not imposed that discipline on the kids -- not yet, anyway.

Our guide-words are Faith, Family, Friends and Community. We attend Quaker Meeting this day, and in addition, I am spending part of the day in devotional reading and/or prayer. Our time spent not working is to be spent with each other or friends and extended family in peaceful and relaxed companionship rather than hurried "doing". We do allow ourselves to drive, as this facilitates our ability to worship with Friends and to spend time with loved ones outside our immediate family. I'm sure questions will come up of "should we or shouldn't we". The guide-words are designed to help us keep the Spirit of our Sabbath as we formulate the rules and exceptions.

I loved our first Sabbath. Here are some insights, observations and surprises:

- I was surprised how the prospect of keeping Sabbath on First Day made Saturday so much more intentional. I had to prepare to do no work the next day, which meant I wanted the house reasonably clean and a meal ready to eat. With this goal in mind, the process of readying our house for Sabbath was quick and pleasant. I was cleaning for the purpose of taking a day off, not because it was simply drudgery that needed to be done. I hope this effect does not wear off over time!

-- Importantly, (important enough to give this it's own bullet point), preparation for the Sabbath was a shared purpose for me and Firmin, so even as we worked independently on tasks that needed to be done, we were working together toward our goal. The children pitched in, their attitude helped by the knowledge that had a completely chore-free day ahead. This made Saturday a family day in a different but still powerful way.

- I found that refraining from work felt sooo self-indulgent! I almost feel like it can't count as a spiritual discipline because it was so luxurious! But Jesus did say that Sabbath was made for humans, not humans for the Sabbath, so I guess it's O.K. for it to be enjoyable!

- I realized how often I say "I should..." to myself. Many times throughout the day, it occurred to me that if I weren't keeping Sabbath, I would feel like I should be doing something productive. But since I couldn't, I was able to turn back to my book or crossword or game with Ethan without guilt and enjoy it that much more.

- In addition to Saturday being more intentional, my movements about the house on First Day were more intentional as well. I did far more picking up as I went along than on a typical day. I was aware of not creating a situation that would require a concentrated period of "work", which would then have to be put off until Monday. Of course I had no where to run off to and no other pressing task to take priority, but I'm hoping the habit of seeing small needs and meeting them in the moment is one that takes hold in the rest of my week.

- I jumped up from my seat far less often.

- My mind felt more calm than usual.

- We were all very nice to each other. Not that we are usually mean, but we were exceptionally nice on First Day.

- I now feel compelled to call Sunday "First Day" as a symbolic way to make my Sabbath practice tie in with my Quaker practice.*

- BIG surprise and too perfect to be coincidence: On Saturday, I had lunch with an old friend from high school, whom I have only recently reconnected with. I mentioned that we were going to begin observing the Sabbath that weekend. She looked at me with wide eyes and said that she and her husband had recently decided to do so as well. Prior to this, I knew *no one* personally who keeps the Sabbath, so this just seemed like Divine validation. Perhaps it seemed so for her too.

We are early in this journey, needless to say. I fully expect to learn many new things as we go along, and I expect there will be situations that challenge our commitment. Perhaps, after a season, we will be led to let the practice go. In any case, I am grateful that I listened (eventually) to this leading and give the thanks to Spirit. After all, it was God's idea, not mine!



*Early Quakers rejected Sabbath-keeping as practiced by the church in England. They felt that everyday life could be lived as sacred if one attended to The Light Within on a daily basis. Sounds good in theory, but personally, I think Sabbath keeping may have been a precious, but abused little baby that got thrown out with the bath water.

Here is a talk given at Pacific Yearly Meeting in 2006 that I found insightful. Here is an article I found just this evening that addresses some of the practical concerns about keeping the Sabbath in our modern world.

First Batch of Tomatoes

I intended to can peaches today, but the half bushel I bought last night was not ripe enough. Since I had the kitchen all prepared for canning, I decided to do tomatoes. Turned out to be a good choice! I was able to completely fill this basket with ripe tomatoes from the garden, some of which really needed to be dealt with ASAP. The peaches will wait for a couple of days.

This picture didn't quite capture the beautiful colors of the heirloom tomatoes the way I hoped it would. They were so bright and juicy that I found my self smiling throughout the process of chopping them up. What one would think might be a mundane task was really quite enjoyable.

Filling the jars and loading them into the (new!) pressure canner.

Ready to process!

The canner to survive the Apocalypse! (Let's see what kind of Google hits *that* phrase gets me, lol!) It was a little tricky getting the lid screwed on evenly, but after that, it was so easy to use. Good old American-made quality!

The finished product: 7 quarts of heirloom tomatoes canned in their own juice. Should make some yummy chili and spaghetti sauce this winter!

For the curious canners among you, this was a simple raw pack, which is partly why the fruit is floating as much as it is. Not as pretty on the shelf, but oh so easy and probably more nutritious.

Pencil Peril

Quaker blogger and writer Eileen Flanigan has a blog post up that is mostly about finding time to write amid the back-to-school hustle and bustle. But tucked in there is a thought or two about using up old school supplies rather than buying all new ones each and every year. As homeschoolers, there is less pressure on us to get all new things in the fall (and we don't need many folders, etc. as there is no daily transport from one place to another required for most of their paperwork.) Pencils, on the other hand, have become an issue. Ethan (almost 2) has for some time now been fond of biting the erasers off pencils. He doesn't eat them, just bites them off, sucks on them for a few minutes, then spits them onto the carpet. Pink block erasers are strewn about the house but never seem to be handy when we need them, and end-cap erasers are a choking hazard for Ethan, so I've bought more new pencils in the last 9 months than in the previous 9 years! Environmentally unfriendly as it may be, it's actually kind of amusing when we step back and observe ourselves:

"Mommy!! Ethan's got a pencil with an eraser!"

"Quick, trade him for a bitten one!"

"He doesn't want it! I can't get it away from him!"

"Be careful yanking it away; if he lets go, you'll stab yourself in the face."

"But he won't let go! Arrgh! He bit it! Now I can't do my math!"

"Nice try. Just get a new pencil. I sharpened a bunch of them the other day."

Someday when Ethan gets older, he's going to wonder why we have 100 pencils in the house but NONE with an eraser. We can't wait to tell him...