Time for a picture!

Ethan is growing SO fast! Here he is, now 3 1/2 months:




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Today was supposed to be the day we jumped back into homeschooling full-bore. I even made schedules and lesson plans! But life intervened, as it tends to. Ethan was up for the first half of the night, crying (screaming) with teething pain. (It's really unfair for a little guy to start teething before he can reliably maneuver a teething soother into his mouth!) Brianna was up several times vomiting. It's now after noon and she's still in bed feeling yucky. :o( Of course the kids' travails meant that Firmin and I got precious little sleep. Alexander was the only one in any condition to do school this morning, but he was more than happy to ditch math for the prospect of exclusive use of his ill sister's new snow board! Oh well, we'll try again Wednesday or Thursday.

Happy New Year to everyone!

A Day Late and a Dollar -- O.K., Many Dollars --Short

My friend over at Memoirs of a Chaotic Mommy tagged me for this meme well before Christmas, but I just didn't have time to get to it before the big day. My computer time is getting more limited now that Ethan is more awake. (He's nearly 3 1/2 months old already!) Plus, our computer room is *freezing* in the winter, so I tend to check email and get out! Which is also why I'm not keeping up with everyone's blogs as much as I would like to. I'm keeping up with reading them better than with commenting on them. I'm more of a lurker these days.

Anyhoo, here are my post Christmas answers:

“Favourite Christmas memory…”

Making breakfast with my sisters every Christmas morning once we got old enough. Our dad insisted on having breakfast before we attacked the presents, and the wait was excruciating for us! So my middle sister and I eventually got the idea to make breakfast as soon as we woke up. We would make something to eat -- at first cereal and toast; later, more elaborate hot breakfasts. Then we would wake our parents (think 6 am) and announce that breakfast was served! When our younger sister got old enough we included her in the ritual. It was a tradition we continued until we left home, though we eventually stopped getting up *quite* so early!

“Favourite Christmas song/carol…”

I love so many of them. I would say "O Holy Night" and "Carol of the Bells"

"Favorite Christmas Movie"

How the Grinch Stole Christmas The older TV-special version, that is.

"Favorite Christmas Character"

Mary. Gotta give props to any woman who gives birth in a stable, lol!

“Favourite Christmas ornament/object…”

No specific one. I have several "special" ornaments that I like about equally.

“Plans for this Christmas…”

We opened presents at home on Christmas morning, then went to my parents house for the afternoon/evening, as usual, and had a wonderful time!

“Is Christmas your favourite holiday?”

Yes, absolutely.

Primary Decisions - Help wanted!

So. Michigan decided to move it's presidential primary election to January 15 in an attempt to be more relevant to the campaigns. (We used to be a Super Tuesday state.) In future elections, this may pay off, but for this year the effect has been to disenfranchise me as a would-be Democratic voter. Only 4 nominees will be on the Democratic ballot. The rest have boycotted in support of the DNC's policy against states "jumping ahead in line". The two candidates I would be most interested in voting for are among the boycotters. Hillary Clinton will win the non-contest, as the only "top tier" candidate on the ballot. I would likely vote unenthusiastically for Hillary over a Republican if she became the nominee, but I'm not psyched to vote for her in the primary.

Lucky for me, I have an alternative: voting in the Republican primary! We have an "open" primary, which means I do not have to register as a Republican to participate. I'm not looking to be a spoiler -- I want to vote for the Republican that would be the most acceptable president to me. If only I could decide whom that would be!

I thought it might be fun to get some help from my blog friends! If you are going to vote Republican, whom are you supporting and why? If you are voting Democratic, what factors would help you make a decision like this? Please keep it as positive as possible -- you can critique the candidates' platforms or records and talk about your own priorities, but please do not cast aspersions on a candidate's supporters or disrespect another person's priorities. (Disagreement does not equal disrespect, as I think we all know.)

I can't wait to hear what you all think. I'm finding it a fun exercise to choose from a group of candidates I normally wouldn't consider. Do I go straight pro/con on policy questions, or -- especially after the disaster that has been Bush II -- do I pay more attention to honesty and integrity?

Discuss...

Branding Babies

They sure start 'em early. I've been noticing how many of Ethan's clothes have labels on the outside, sticking out from the side of the garment. (They're *all* on the left side too, regardless of brand. How did that happen?) I didn't really think much of it at first, which only goes to show how insidious the culture of brand identity has become. Not until I realized that nearly every outfit he owns has an external tag, did I start to think about how weird that is.

It's a small thing, but what bothers me about these little tags is what they stand for: the fact that children are targeted by marketers from birth with the intention of establishing brand loyalties. What bothers me even more is that I can't easily opt myself or my kids out of this trend. I've tried to opt out to some extent, and it's hard work -- time consuming and often more expensive. Sigh.

The ubiquitousness of these external tags may be recent, but it's not really new. Some of the innovators of the idea were absolutely "up-front" about it. Funny how I never thought of this label as offensive:
I guess if it's around long enough, it becomes normal. Not sure how I feel about that.

Class Privileges

I saw this meme on Friendly Mama's blog, and thought it interesting. As Americans, we tend to compare ourselves to those in the social class above us, which can blind us to our own class privileges, especially if we grew up of modest means. This exercise provides a way to think about our privileges in a more objective way.

Friendly Mama found it on the Social Class and Quakers blog. Anyone who wishes to participate is encouraged to do so. Just leave a comment on the Social Class and Quakers blog and include an acknowledgment that the meme is based on an exercise developed by Will Barratt, Meagan Cahill, Angie Carlen, Minnette Huck, Drew Lurker, Stacy Ploskonka at Illinois State University

I've bolded the statements that are true for me.

Father went to college
Father finished college
Mother went to college -- for 2 years after high school, then quit to marry my father
Mother finished college -- she went back to finish when I went to college and graduated a year ahead of me. :o)
Have any relative who is an attorney, physician, or professor.
Were the same or higher class than your high school teachers -- same: small town middle class
Had more than 50 books in your childhood home
Had more than 500 books in your childhood home -- not when I was a small child, but by the time I was a teen, we may have had that many.
Were read children's books by a parent
Had lessons of any kind before you turned 18
Had more than two kinds of lessons before you turned 18 -- always "parks and rec" group classes -- ballet, gymnastics, swimming, etc.
The people in the media who dress and talk like me are portrayed positively
Had a credit card with your name on it before you turned 18
Your parents (or a trust) paid for the majority of your college costs
Your parents (or a trust) paid for all of your college costs
Went to a private high school
Went to summer camp -- Our regional Bible camp as a kid, and cheerleading camp with my school squad in high school. Each was a one-week stay.
Had a private tutor before you turned 18
Family vacations involved staying at hotels -- We were campers, partly for reasons of cost, partly because my parents liked camping. I went through a stage where I craved hotel vacations, but now I'm a camper too. Like my parents, it's partly because we can't afford long-distance and/or hotel travel, but we also really like our camping vacations.
Your clothing was all bought new before you turned 18
Your parents bought you a car that was not a hand-me-down from them
There was original art in your house when you were a child -- when I was a small child, there was an oil painting of a Chinese junk at sunset that my father got from either Guam or Thailand when he was stationed there during the Vietnam war. My father was also a pretty good amateur photographer, so we had some of his artsy black and white photos in frames.
Had a phone in your room before you turned 18
You and your family lived in a single family house
Your parent(s) owned their own house or apartment before you left home
You had your own room as a child -- not until I was 11, but after that, yes.
Participated in an SAT/ACT prep course
Had your own TV in your room in High School
Owned a mutual fund or IRA in High School or College
Flew anywhere on a commercial airline before you turned 16 -- only once, when I was a baby. We were living near whatever military base my dad was stationed at, and my mother flew (with me) back home to her family for a visit. My grandparents probably paid for the trip.
Went on a cruise with your family
Went on more than one cruise with your family
Your parents took you to museums and art galleries as you grew up
You were unaware of how much heating bills were for your family -- I was unaware of the dollar amount, but I *was* aware that my parents couldn't always pay the bills when I was young. I knew that certain bills could be late without dire penalty because my parents had to choose which ones to pay late sometimes. As far as I know, we never suffered a shut off of utilities or phone or anything, so they were able to scrape by.

For someone who grew up without a lot of money by US standards, I'm struck by how many of these privileges I had. Some of them are by-products of growing up near a college town with parents who were relatively well educated. Museums at the University were free, for example. My parents valued educational experiences and stretched their budget to provide what they could for us. My own kids are in a similar situation. Since we have chosen to be a one-income family (even though Firmin's income isn't extraordinary), we often find ourselves in social demographic groups that usually correlate with higher incomes. We are blessed to live the life we live and have the opportunities that we have.

I appreciate that this meme came from a Quaker blog, though it's clearly appropriate for anyone. Since becoming a Friend, I've found it easier to be content with my blessings as they are. I'm not sure if that is due to growing spiritual maturity, or simply because I'm in frequent contact with people who don't value material things very much. (Indeed, doing with less is looked upon with respect.) Whatever the reason, I'm also aware that it's not too hard to be content when one's basic needs are met. May I remain aware of all the ways in which my path was smoothed by fortunate life circumstances, and may I be sensitive (yet not patronizing) to those who make do with far less.

Super Dad

In 1994, I got a kitten. Before I brought it home, Firmin made it clear to me that the kitten would be *my* cat, and he would have nothing to do with it. Yeah, well... Within 30 minutes of the kitten’s arrival, he was in love. He was tender and playful with her and concerned for her well-being. I knew then, six years prior to the birth of our first child, that he was going to be a great dad.

Thirteen years and three children later, here's the latest evidence that I was right:

When I arrived home from running errands this afternoon, I found Firmin and the two older kids "tailgating" in our back yard. Alexander is on his lap; Brianna's reading a book by the fire. That's the college football game on the TV. How awesome is that?

Oh, and the half-circle fence around the fire pit area is one that he built this summer from discarded pallets.

While I'm bragging on him, did I mention that he also ran his first marathon a couple of weeks ago? Yup, he did.



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A bit of blog business: I want to say thank you to everyone for your comments. I love reading them, and I apologize for not responding to them directly very often lately. It's all Ethan's fault. ;o) Please know that I'm reading them and I hope to be able to be more responsive soon.

Meandering, part 2

Inspired by my previous post and, in turn, Aliki's post, my youngest sister has a lovely blog entry about rediscovering the ability to meander as an adult. It's worth a look -- check it out here.

Meandering

This recent post on Aliki's blog got me thinking. I'm going to quote her a bit for those who don't have time to check out the original post:

In a meeting this Monday morning at Liam's school... much off-the-topic concern was expressed over his inability to make a speedy trip from the resource room back to the classroom and vice versa. Apparently it has taken him as much as six minutes to walk the short route.

He stops to look in the recycling barrel! One teacher commented...

He reads the bulletin board!

I've caught him pulling papers out of the trash-can and reading them!

I am... perplexed... by all the clocking and accounting of movements that goes on. Liam has never been interested in the end result; it's the process that interests him--the journey, the diversions which tempt and might lead him to bigger, more interesting things.

And really, when you think about, who can blame him? The starting and ending points of a day (and of life) are far less interesting than what happens in-between. Between points A and B lie infinite possibilities--the unimagined, thousands and thousands of connecting and re-connecting lines between ideas and dreams and more ideas. The magic of it all is in what is spread out in-between, not so much in the predictability of what lies at either end.

So often, when I read accounts of the myriad ways that schools force children into molds or squash their natural curiosity, or make something potentially fun into something dreary or stressful, I respond with a mental, "Thank goodness for homeschooling". But this time I can't say that. I'm just like those teachers -- always goading the children to "Stop dawdling", "Hurry up", "Come ON!" Sometimes my behavior is justified, but honestly, often it's not.

Have I become unable to meander? Even when the kids and I take a walk at the nature center, after a certain amount of poking about, I'm encouraging them to move on, simply because *I* can't stand to stay in one spot any longer. I'm sure I used to be able to dawdle. I can remember doing it as a little girl. Actually, what I remember is daydreaming, but I must have been meandering at the same time.

Yet I haven't quite hit upon the real issue. I can still "wander". Housework is often interrupted by excursions into photo albums, books, papers, etc. (Of course, being the responsible grown up that I am, I chide myself for such lapses in efficiency.) Even on foot, I can meander -- enjoying the journey if I'm not in a hurry. So maybe my problem is with stopping while *someone else* smells the proverbial roses. Yeah, I think that's it. It's a kind of self- centeredness or control issue masquerading as normal parental behavior.

Bummer. This one's gonna take some work to overcome...

Thursday Thoughts

A baby is a gift to more than just his family.

The other day I went to the annual apple give-away sponsored by our city’s Garden Project. Participants can fill 2 paper grocery bags with free apples – a total of 35 – 40 lbs of apples! Problem was, I forgot to bring my baby sling for Ethan and he was NOT going to be content in his car seat while I filled my bags. I handed him to Brianna, but her seven-year-old arms aren’t strong enough to carry him for longer than a few minutes. When she tired, I held him while she began to pack apples... slowly! I resigned myself to the fact that this was going to take much longer than I had planned on.

My rescuer was a woman in late middle age. She turned to me with a hopeful expression and said, “I could hold him.” Hold him she did, while Brianna and I packed our two bags and I carried them to the car. “You forget how tiny they are!” she cooed. He fussed only a tiny bit to the woman’s delight and my relief. Every time I looked over to check on them, the woman looked radiant. When she handed him back to me, we thanked each other. Somehow I think I did her a bigger favor than she did me.

Alexander is diligently saving polar bears. Whenever someone leaves a light on, he admonishes us to turn it off “to save polar bears.” Somewhere, he must have heard of the connection between energy use, global warming and the melting Artic ice. It’s not only cute, it’s effective! :o)

Alexander is also learning to read. He got a unused phonics workbook handed down to him by his cousin. I thought we probably wouldn’t use it either, since Xander has thus far eschewed formal study of reading. (While at the same time wishing desperately that he *could* read!) Nevertheless, I showed it to him and left it out for him to look at if he wished to. Later, he asked me to help him with it and that was it – he was off! He did about 100 pages over two days. I went to the library and got him some very easy readers, including the wonderful Otto books by David Milgrim. He is *so* proud of himself! It’s wonderful to see.

To help him along, we've borrowed the DVD box set of The Electric Company episodes from our library. The Electric Company has to be the best reading program ever aired on TV. It's entertaining for adults too -- with a cast that includes Bill Cosby, Rita Moreno, and Morgan Freeman, how can you go wrong?

Here are a couple of more recent shots of Ethan. He’s growing and changing before our eyes! He’s going bald right now. It’s not evident yet in these photos, which were taken a couple of weeks ago, but over the past week, he’s lost most of the hair on the top of his head in a male-pattern baldness progression. I wonder if it’s a precursor to later mid-life baldness? I don’t recall it happening to Alexander. There is some male-pattern baldness in my family, so it’s possible. Luckily, baldness in babies is both cute and temporary!

The Birth Story

I woke in the early morning on Friday feeling kind of nauseous and not-so-good all the way around. Slept a little more, then once I was up for the day, felt O.K. I kept having contractions on and off throughout the day, and I definitely felt like something was going to happen soon -- either that night or the next day. I began to get excited! (Both Brianna and Alexander were induced, so it was fun experiencing the on-set of labor naturally.)

At about 3 pm I lost my mucus plug -- something I've never experienced so dramatically before! The contractions started to get more frequent and noticeable after that, so I started calling people -- Firmin, my mom, the midwife -- to let them know that things were moving along. By 7 PM, we were on our way to the birth center. Contractions slowed down on the way there, which is normal. I got settled in at the BC, listened to one of my hypnosis tapes, then walked around to get things moving again. That did the trick and my labor started picking up nicely.


Brianna and Alexander and my parents came to the birth center with us and stayed the entire time. They watched movies and camped out in sleeping bags in the community room.

I was able to handle the intensifying contractions pretty well with my hypnosis until what was likely the "transition" phase. In contrast to Alexander's birth, where I had my water broken at 5 cm, then dilated to 10 in about 20 minutes, these contractions were spaced a little farther apart. I had a bit of a break between each one in which I was able to relax, but I was starting to have a hard time with the contractions themselves. I was in the birthing tub at this point which felt good, but I think it might have made it harder for me to get comfortable. I remember saying at one point, "This is where I ask for the epidural!" ;o) I was still hours away from giving birth as it turned out. I don't think I would have accomplished a natural childbirth in the hospital this time around with the promise of pain relief just a request away since it took so long. Although it's possible that they would have made me wait since I don't think I said that until I was almost fully dilated. I felt like pushing soon after. (They don't do internal checks for dilation at the birth center unless the mom requests it or there's a medical reason, so I don't know what my dilation was at any given point.)

Apparently, pushing out babies is something I *can* do, but not well. I ultimately needed much more coaching in that phase than they generally give. Turns out I was pushing rather "ineffectually" for quite a while before midwife S. and I decided that she'd better take a stronger hand. I remember that the same thing happened with Alexander, though I got more immediate coaching and the contractions were much closer together, so I only had to push for about a half-hour. Ethan took his sweet time. My contractions were not so closely spaced. I had time to rest between pushes, but it wasn't much relief. I found it SO hard to relax between them.

Once she took more charge, S. had me get out of the water and onto the bed on my side. Relaxing was easier there and she was able to see that I was pulling back in after each push, which was hampering my progress. She was also able to coach me more on each push to make it more effective. More time passed, and more position changes dictated by S. Finally, after nearly 2 1/2 hours of pushing, I ended up on the birthing stool and finally (finally!) felt that ring of fire about 15 minutes later. I hated the crowning with Alexander, but this time it was *so* welcome because it meant it really was OVER! At 3:12 AM, I had my baby and all was well.
I really wish it had been easier and/or shorter, but I can't say I'm disappointed. I'm pretty proud of myself actually. I never would have thought I could endure so much pain for so long and still keep working. I admit to getting pretty discouraged during the long final phase, but I did what I had to do. The fact that billions of women have done it for millenia before me (and often in worse and more dangerous circumstances) diminishes my feelings not one bit. On the contrary, it makes me part of the tribe.

Each child's birth now takes it's place in my story:

Brianna's over-medicated, interventionist birth was nevertheless my unique first -- my induction into motherhood and all it's wonders. Although I grieved the negative aspects of that birth process, the experience changed some of my assumptions about modern "progress" and set me on a journey that has led in surprising and satisfying directions.

Alexander's birth retains it's place as my "best" birth. Although I would rather have not been in the hospital, it was quick, intense, and drug-free (beyond the cervical gel to get labor going.) After Alexander's birth, I felt euphoric -- a high like I've never felt before or since. I also felt physically great. I remember getting up from the bed I delivered in and going to the bathroom almost right away with no trouble.

Ethan's birth was a test of my strength. I was too worn out to feel the same level of euphoria as I did after Alexander's birth, and my physical recovery hasn't been as quick. (Though it's been quicker and easier than after Brianna's birth.) Nevertheless, taken as a whole, I've really enjoyed the experience of carrying and birthing him in the context of our larger family. It was great to have the other kids nearby. I'm grateful they were sleeping through my loudest cries of agony, but it was nice to be able to wake Brianna and have her come in right after he was born. (We let Alexander sleep until morning for fear he wouldn't go *back* to sleep.) Ethan's birth has given me a greater appreciation for what women have accomplished and endured and even suffered in childbirth throughout history. It's a perspective I will cherish. He's also given me new appreciation for my own powers of endurance.

Welcome to the world, little boy. Thanks for completing my birth education; I can't wait to see what else you have to teach me and all of us.

Here are a few more pictures from his first day:

He's Here!

Ethan Michael was born at 3:12 this morning (September 15) , weighed 8 lbs. 8 oz., and is 20 1/2 inches long, including his cone head! ;o)

Pictures soon to come, but I wanted to get the news out!

Tuesday Takes

It has come to my attention that some readers are checking this blog regularly for baby news. No news to share yet! I'll try to get news up about the baby as soon as it happens. (Could be any day now, or could be a couple weeks from now. Patience is a virtue, right? Ha!)

I've been feeling "dry" in the blog-post ideas department lately. I'm getting pretty baby-focused now -- nesting and all that, which is pretty boring to blog about. I do have a few random thoughts, none of which rise to the level of a complete post, so I'll share some of those:



Senator John McCain was the guest in the first hour of The Diane Rhem Show today. I wouldn't vote for him because we differ too greatly on the issues, but boy is he an easy man to respect and even admire. I really enjoyed listening to him. Would that more political figures were as concerned with integrity and honesty as he seems to be. He unabashedly defends positions that he believes in -- even unpopular ones -- with rationality and civility. He also candidly admits to times when he was guilty of doing wrong, not just having "poor judgment" or some other vague phrase intended to downplay his culpability. (I thought for a moment he was actually going to use the word "sin".)

The big question is, would the American people actually elect someone with these qualities (not necessarily McCain himself), or do we insist on something more deliberately constructed for the national political scene? Is the *appearance* of folksy integrity easier to accept than the sometimes uncomfortable real thing? Real integrity generally involves humility and even changing one's position from time to time based on new information or insight. Qualities that one's opponents are quick to spin into "softness" and "flip-flopping". Can a "good man" or a "good woman" win these days? I hope so, but I wonder...

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Also heard on Diane Rhem today was Ira Flatow, science reporter. The tidbit that caught my ear was about Bernoulli's Principle. Bernoullis' Principle describes the pressure of flowing liquids, and is very commonly cited to explain how air-flow and pressure around an airplane's wings allows the plane to stay aloft. I've read about this several times from different sources. Well -- turns out that Bernoulli's Principle has very little to do with planes staying aloft! Good thing for a homeschooling mom to know, since that myth is *everywhere* in science materials for kids! Here's a better explanation of the physics of flight. Watch out for the Bernoulli flight myth -- your kids may very well still encounter it at school, and certainly in library books and on the internet.

___________________

Brianna has begun a geometry segment in math. She's getting to use a drawing board with a T-square and triangles. She asked to do math today at 9 am -- before breakfast! Guess she likes geometry! :o)

___________________

The new First Day School (Sunday School) year has begun at our Quaker Meeting. We are trying some different formats this year in preparation for being in a new building without defined classrooms some time next year. We kicked off with a whole-group session we called "The God panel", in which 3 adults were invited to share their experiences and beliefs about God with the children (who ranged in age from 3 to 12). I was a little nervous about how it would go, but it turned out to be a beautiful experience. The kids remained engaged for the whole hour, even when the adults were trying to convey pretty complex ideas. I was struck by how much we grown-ups underestimate the spiritual depth of our youngest Friends.

Glimpses of Our Life

My darling hubby's not-so-subtle hint that it's time to get packed for a trip to the birth center.

I'm trying to think what I could put in here that I won't need in the next few weeks. Clothes for the baby, I suppose. I have no idea what might fit me when the time comes. My hips have, um, spread. Perhaps a wrap skirt is in order...















I love this doodle Brianna did on our chalk board. It so illustrates the bond she has with Alexander. (It says "Alexander the crasey bananna") She loves his craziness even though it exasperates her at times. The rest of us feel the same way.


Thanks to Aliki for passing on this blog award. It's nice to know that others enjoy my random thoughts, lol!

I'll pass it forward to Ma, Jenny, and Jennifer -- for her most recent post about her darling youngest son, which I didn't comment on, but thoroughly enjoyed. (Follow the link.)

My How I've Grown!

Third babies are not shy about taking whatever room they need! Here are some 8 month belly pics.













































The baby and I are not the only ones who have grown. Alexander grew enough over the past year to be able to climb the maple tree in our yard this summer. He wanted to do it last summer, but was just too short. You can see how delighted his is.

Robert Putnam and Others Speak About Diversity

I blogged about Robert Putnam's research on the challenges of diversity on July 3. This morning I caught the end of On Point, an NPR call-in show on the topic with Putnam, Lani Guinier, and Pat Buchanan. I have yet to go back and listen to the whole thing, but the last 20 minutes or so that I heard were really interesting. Granted, I started listening just as they were saying good-bye to Pat Buchanan. I should probably be prepared for raised blood pressure when I listen to the portion he was on! You can listen on Real Player or Windows Media Player by clicking here.

Here's the teaser for the program:
Harvard political scientist Robert Putnam is a self-described full-on liberal who worries a lot about community in America.

He made his name in the 1990s with his finding that hordes of Americans were, in his famous phrase, "bowling alone" -- living without the traditional community ties of bowling leagues and Moose clubs that bound people together.

Then he set out on a huge project to find out why. The answer looks like a liberal's nightmare: diversity. Diverse communities, Putnam found, show dysfunction. At least for a while.

This hour On Point: Robert Putnam, Pat Buchanan and Lani Guinier on diversity and community in America.

Camping with Friends

It began as a brainstorm earlier this summer.

In conversation after Friends’ Meeting one Sunday, we discovered that a number of us enjoy camping. We thought it might be fun to do it as a group some weekend, so this weekend we did. The group consisted of 3 families who camped for 2 nights, one family who camped for 1 night, and one family that came out for the afternoon and evening on Saturday, but did not camp. Decent turn-out for a summer weekend!

We stayed at a lesser known, but beautiful rustic campground less than an hour from our city, which was not at all crowded. Good thing, since every family who participated had kids, most ages 8 and under! It felt good to let them roam and run and be as loud as they wanted to be. The kids had a blast – getting dirty and tired and eating too many marshmallows. They enjoy one another’s company so much every Sunday, and it was nice to give them a longer time to be together. Frankly, the same was true for us adults who also got dirty, tired and ate too many marshmallows. :o) We got quite a bit of time to visit, since the kids were occupied with playing together much of the time.

Camping always rejuvenates my spirits, but camping while 8 months pregnant takes it’s toll! Sleeping comfortably wasn’t a problem, thank goodness, but I’m tiring easily these days, and many tasks that usually take little effort (like stooping down to unzip the tent flap) are now awkward and difficult. The bathroom -- which I visited, um, frequently -- was a bit of a hike. It wasn't so far distance-wise, but down a rather long, steep hill that was a bear to climb back up sometimes. (I actually drove the van to the bathroom two or three times when I just couldn’t face the climb!) When I got home today, I treated myself to a nice bath, but my feet still ache.

I’m sorry to say that I didn’t bring a camera, but here are some highlights:

*Finding a cicada that had just emerged from it’s exoskeleton one morning. The still wet wings and body were beautiful shades of blue-green, pearl and silver. As the day wore on, the cicada’s colors darkened until the wings were mostly brown and only a hint of green was visible on the body. By mid-afternoon, it had moved on, leaving the discarded exoskeleton behind.

*Pot luck dinner on Saturday. Good food, good company, good fun, no cooking! (Except for the meat, but I wasn’t in charge of that!)

*My parents popping in at the campground to help celebrate my birthday. My dad brought his remote control airplane – a good size one – and thrilled the kids with a demo.

*Seeing Alexander get SO tired that he thought the trip to the beach – which happened at the peak of his fatigue – had been a dream. (He told me about his “dream” later that day. He still remembers little of the excursion, even though he now knows it really happened.)

*Enjoying the peaceful quiet of the campground with Firmin while everyone else was at the beach. (I didn’t feel up to sitting in the sun for several hours.) We talked for a while, then dozed in our chairs. Ahhh!

*Watching the kids – all the kids, not just mine – be great kids. Yes, they ran too far ahead of the grown ups on walks, and they didn’t always respond to adult instruction the first time, but I never saw them ostracize or tease one another. (Even between siblings there was a high level of civility and tolerance.) When they gleefully chased the remote control plane as it landed, my father yelled after them not to touch it, and they responded with restraint and respect. It was almost comical to watch them crowd around as close as humanly possible without touching it! Only the youngest – a 3 year old – ventured a finger to gingerly touch the edge of the wing once the plane had stopped. We may not be raising the most compliant and obedient children around, but I feel fairly confident in speaking for all the parents when I say that’s not really our goal. The children are clearly learning to navigate the world and their relationships with moral values and good judgment. *That* is the goal, and they are well on their way.

I love being a part of this family of Friends.

Hardship

The mayor of Warren, Michigan recently complained about the possible influx of Iraqi refugees into his city. He said it would be "a hardship".

In an effort to calm public fears, Michigan Senator Carl Levin said the numbers of refugees sited by the mayor (15,000) were “misleading”. This year, the U.S. can expect to settle only about 2,000 Iraqi refugees, and in total, the State Department has agreed to absorb only 25,000 of the (so far) 2.2 million Iraqi refugees, to be spread around the country.

In case you don't have a calculator handy, 25,000 out of 2.2 million comes to 1%. Is it just me, or does that seem like a shamefully small percentage? After all, this was *our* war. Our president and his pals came up with the idea. Our congress persons voted to authorize it. Indeed most Americans were gung-ho about it in the beginning. Those who urged caution were disparaged as unpatriotic terrorist sympathizers. Five years on, it doesn’t look like we can fix what we broke in Iraq. Most Americans have come to the conclusion that we should cut our losses and hope for the least worst of all the terrible possibilities. That’s a rational decision, but it doesn’t follow that we can then wash our hands of the whole thing and go on with our lives as if nothing happened. We certainly can't wash our hands of the financial cost: we and our children will be paying the $444, 937,600,000 and counting for this war. And we should not wash our hands of the moral costs either.

Actions have consequences. Accepting refugees from the horror that we largely created may be more or less avoidable, but what our moral responsibility? Those of us not in the military have sacrificed next to nothing. We’ve only been asked to be patient and keep shopping! I don’t care to suffer hardship any more than Mr. Mayor and the good folks of Warren, but I’m seriously questioning what right I, or any American, has to be exempt from it in this case. If I really knew what it was like to suffer even a fraction of the hardship that a woman my age in Baghdad is suffering, I’d probably be offering to put her and her family up in my own house! Maybe some hardship for Americans is exactly what justice demands. It’s a bitter thought, but passing off the burden of refugees almost solely onto Iraq’s neighbors while we agree to accept only 1% seems shameful and cowardly.

Diversity, Trust, and Religion

I recently became aware of research by Robert Putnam that paints a mixed view of ethnic diversity. Here is an excerpt from the abstract of the study:

In the long run immigration and diversity are likely to have important cultural, economic, fiscal, and developmental benefits. In the short run, however, immigration and ethnic diversity tend to reduce social solidarity and social capital. New evidence from the US suggests that in ethnically diverse neighborhoods residents of all races tend to ‘hunker down’. Trust (even of one's own race) is lower, altruism and community cooperation rarer, friends fewer. In the long run, however, successful immigrant societies have overcome such fragmentation by creating new, cross-cutting forms of social solidarity and more encompassing identities.

Unsurprisingly, this study has been cited by numerous anti-immigration and anti-multiculturalism folks -- usually minus the reference to the possible long term benefits. The come-back from progressives is usually to focus nearly entirely on the long term findings. I think this is equally problematic. Both the short and long term effects must be taken seriously if we care about the quality of our own lives and the lives of our neighbors – wherever they come from.

People who work with diverse populations at schools or in community settings will tend to file this study under the heading “not news”. The darker side of human nature makes diversity difficult. But diversity (and, I dare say, immigration) is here to stay, so what do we do? How do we make the short term problems as “short term” as possible? How do we get over the mistrust and “hunkering down” tendency?

I’m especially interested in thinking about what role religion (or spirituality, if you prefer) can play in the drama. It strikes me that when religion is at it’s worst, it exacerbates the problem – creating enclaves of suspicion and encouraging us to pass judgment on our neighbors. I’m sorry to say that I think this happens more often than not, but that doesn’t mean that secularism is necessarily the better answer. Secularism can just as easily lead to “me first” thinking, and suspicion of differences in manner or culture. No-holds-barred capitalism is thoroughly secular (in spite of the many Religious Right types who embrace it, seemingly contrary to biblical principles), yet it is the major cause of migration between countries, both legally and illegally. Not only are people drawn to western countries to seek opportunity, they are also “pushed” from the other direction by impossible economic situations brought on by a secular “theology” of globalism that elevates profit above any other social, political, or human good.

But what about religion as 17^th century Quaker Robert Barclay experienced it?

“For when I came into the silent assemblies of God's people, I felt a secret power among them which touched my heart; and as I gave way unto it, I found the evil weakening in me and the good raised up.”

Religion at it’s best raises up the good in us and weakens the evil. It reminds us that we are all loved by God, all part of the same sacred creation. Even when we can’t manage to feel that way about our fellow human beings, good religion disciplines us to behave as if it were true anyway. (“Love thy enemy” and all that...)

I’m interested in what others think about these topics. Please share!

Finished product

Since the jam post was so popular, I thought I'd share some pics of the results!

It took me almost exactly 3 hours to do 4 batches -- less time than I anticipated. I guess after doing this a few times, I'm getting more efficient! I got the kitchen totally prepped before going to get the berries: canner out and filled, counters clear, jars washed, etc. So if you count that part, maybe it would be closer to 4 hours. Still not bad. You'll notice that the fruit floats to the top of the syrup. No biggie -- we just stir it when we open it, but if anyone knows how to avoid this, I'd be interested. Even my grandma didn't know, and she's done her share of jam-making.

A couple of readers asked about cost. I purchased 8 quarts of strawberries (one flat, or about 16 lbs.) for $20. Buying direct from the grower at the farmers' market is definitely the way to go! I already owned the jars and ring parts of the lids, so no additional cost there. The flat part of the lid is not re-usable, so I had to buy those: $1.50. Pectin came to $6.00, and I estimated the cost of the sugar used to be about $0.50. (I used store brand sugar, and only about 3 1/2 cups total.) Grand total cost = $28.00

I processed the equivalent of 26 eight ounce jars. (6 twelve oz. jars and 17 eight oz. jars) That comes out to $1.07 per 8 oz. jar. I *might* be able to buy the very cheapest store brand for less -- I don't know, as I haven't priced them out. But since I would normally be buying brands with low sugar and no artificial colors, it's a decent savings. (That's not even considering the taste factor, which is a biggie.) I save even more when I use them as gifts. A jar of homemade jam and a homemade loaf of bread make a wonderful (and usually highly appreciated) gift for a neighbor or casual friend, even though the total "value" might only be about $2. Saving money isn't the point in that case; what you are really giving is time and care. Nevertheless, it's a welcome by-product when you're on a tight holiday budget.

Can't wait to break one open tomorrow!

Oh, and here's a tip for anyone who decides to try this: consider keeping your jars warm in the oven (set at about 200 degrees) rather than in simmering water on the stove as most recipes instruct you to do. Your stove already has the huge canner going, plus the 6 - 8 quart pot for cooking the jam, plus maybe a tea kettle of hot water to add to the canner as needed. I don't know about your stove, but mine has no room for an additional huge stockpot filled with jars! Putting them in the oven saved hassle and space -- I just took the hot jars out of the oven as I needed them. I kept the lids in a pot of hot water in the oven as well.

Strawberry Jam

This Wednesday is strawberry jam day at our house. I was informed by one of the farmers at our local farmer's market that he would have strawberries "by the truck load" this week. The kids will be going to a friend's house on Wednesday so that I can get the strawberries and make jam from them on the same day.

You're probably thinking, "Nice, but so what? Lots of people make jam."

The thing is, we haven't had any jam at all for about 2 1/2 months now, so it feels like a treat to us. We are not full-fledged localvores -- I'm not ready to give up bananas, for one thing -- but we're trying to eat that way more frequently, especially with foods that are grown in our area. So in March, when we ran out of the jam I made last summer, Firmin and I agreed that we would simply wait until jam-making fruit was in season again instead of buying jam at the store. We had a plentiful supply of local raw honey to eat on our toast and to be a sweetening addition to a peanut butter sandwich. (No, peanuts are not grown in Michigan, but this isn't really about pure-ism. Read on.) The final deciding factor was the relatively high cost of jams which contain neither high fructose corn syrup nor artificial food coloring. We would wait.

What I've discovered to my own surprise and delight, is that rather than missing the jam (though we have at times), the primary experience has been one of joyful anticipation and gratitude. I'm thankful for these strawberries in a way I never have been before. I'm actually looking forward to the long afternoon of processing and canning the jam. The kids are thrilled at the prospect of an honest to goodness PB & J sandwich! We have stopped taking jam for granted. It's a very small thing really, but small things can teach big lessons.

Next, I'm thinking about apples. Michigan is second only to Washington state in apple production, and Michigan apples are available year-round. For organic apples, however, the Michigan supply is about dried up. My choice now is pretty much Chilean organic apples or Michigan conventionally grown apples. Hmmm... It won't be long before the early varieties are ready -- mid-August I think. Can we wait? If we do, how good will that first bite of a crisp fresh-from-the-tree apple taste?

This waiting for the season is quickly becoming a lost experience. Previous generations were forced to wait. Waiting today requires discipline, which is much tougher and sometimes hard to justify. I can testify from personal experience that it can feel downright silly to walk by food that you want when it's right there in front of you, especially if your cart already contains other items that are not local or in season. (I buy broccoli year-round, for instance, and plan continue to do so -- it's one of the few green veggies the whole family likes!) Yet walk right by I do, and with increasing frequency. There are plenty of good reasons to eat locally and in season whenever possible, but one that's often overlooked is the pure pleasure of delayed gratification. Still skeptical? Just ask your grandma how good blueberries used to taste in July when she was a girl. Note her big smile...

The Conservative in Me

Every once in a while I pick up a book that resonates so strongly that it makes me comment out loud -- "Yes!" "That's exactly right" "Absolutely!" -- while I am reading it. (I can only hope to be either alone or amongst understanding family members when it happens.) I just finished such a book. Given that it's written by a conservative journalist who has worked for the National Review, the book has had a particularly profound effect on me. It challenged some of my assumptions about conservatives, caused me to reconsider how best to describe myself politically, and gave me hope for some common ground between at least some liberals and conservatives in this grossly polarized era. It also spawned about 20 blog post ideas, lol! I'll dole out a few of them here and there over the next couple of months.

I must give the full title, long as it is, so that you can understand why I picked it up in the first place. It is Crunchy Cons: How Birkenstocked Burkeans, gun loving organic gardeners, evangelical free-range farmers, hip homeschooling mamas, right-wing nature lovers, and their diverse tribe of countercultural conservatives plan to save America (or at least the Republican Party) by Rod Dreher. Those of you who know me know that I wear Birkenstocks, garden organically, eat locally-raised, free-range meat, homeschool my kids, and love nature. However, I have not read Burke, do not love guns, am religious but not evangelical, am sadly lacking much "hip" other than the ones above my thighs, am decidedly NOT right-wing, and can count on one hand the number of Republicans I've voted for. I just *had* to read this book!

The most important thing Crunchy Cons did for me was to smash some preconceptions I had about conservatives, and make me re-consider my own self-identification as a liberal. Dreher is the kind of Republican that I didn't know existed: one who would willingly restrain the excesses of free-market capitalism in the name of preserving authentic communities, strengthening families, and protecting the environment. (That I didn't know of the existence of folks like him is in itself is an indictment of our over-polarized political environment. Where are their voices in the mainstream media and the Republican party?) He believes passionately that our current state of affairs -- with ever-increasing consumption of material goods and unfettered pursuit of personal pleasure and gain -- is not only spiritually culturally impoverishing, but also economically unsustainable. I have felt this for a long time now, and Dreher captures how discouraging and lonely such a counter-cultural stance can be at times. Yet he also captures the joy and fulfillment that come from living according to one's deepest held beliefs.

I came to see that my core values -- which mesh pretty well with Dreher's -- really *are* best described as "conservative". I want to conserve values and ways of life that are rapidly disappearing: interdependent communities, strong family bonds, unstructured leisure time (and innocence) for kids, "real" food grown or raised the way nature/God intended, local economies, human scale development, the wise use and preservation of natural spaces, and more. Dreher is perplexed that some of the political policies intended to further these kinds of goals have become nearly the sole province of Democrats and are thus now considered "liberal" issues. Because of that, I think Dreher's sense of alienation from the Right is stronger than my sense of standing on the outskirts of the Left. (Check out the Crunchy Con manifesto. I count 7 out of 10 points that I definitely agree with and at least 2 that I mostly agree with. I know quite a few of my crunchy liberal friends that would agree with many of the points as well. It's easy to see why poor Rod gets blasted by many of his fellow Republicans. Kudos to him for having the courage to keep speaking out!) Finding so much in common with a self-described conservative made me more keenly aware of the ways in which I am different from many mainstream liberals, particularly in the areas of education, media consumption, and consumerism. (There being really no difference in consumerism between mainstream liberals and conservatives. Shopping is fast becoming the national pastime.)

Before reading this book, if the only thing I knew about Rod Dreher was that he voted Republican and wrote for the National Review, my initial impression would have been of a no-holds-barred capitalist who wanted to return to the oppressive-to-women-and-minorities 1950's. I know that's a stereotype, but I must admit that it's exactly what springs to mind when I don't know anything else about a person besides their conservatism. So what do conservatives think when I describe myself as a liberal? Someone who would happily regulate every aspect of life except sex and the media? Perhaps! Maybe nuance, though awkward and time-consuming, is called for if there is to be a meaningful movement of all of us crunchies (Left and Right) to "save America". I don't care as much about the Republican party. ;o)

Fast Math

My friend and fellow blogger Alissa has a son Brianna's age who is going through "quarterly assessment" testing at his school. One of the areas of assessment is math. Her brief comments about this got me thinking back to math tests of my own childhood, how I'm approaching math with Brianna, and how I might approach it with Alexander. I don't blog much about our homeschooling specifics, but I find this topic worth exploring a little bit.

Thankfully, I attended school before the current obsession with standardized testing and constant assessment. I took state standardized tests in 4th, 7th, and 10th grades, but the teachers didn't make a big deal out of them beyond making sure we knew how to properly fill in the bubbles. (Bubble tests were rare indeed!) The first tests that really felt "high stakes" to me were the tests I took for college entrance -- the ACT, SAT, and AP exams. By then I was an older teen and able to handle the pressure.

Nevertheless, my 2nd grade teacher, Mrs. Frank, decided to introduce some "high stakes" testing of her own. Every week we had "time tests" in math. These consisted of a strip of about 25 math problems that we were to complete as fast as possible. The times of each student -- adjusted somehow for accuracy -- were posted for all to see. I believe they were even charted on a graph. I was one of those kids who was very accurate if given adequate time, but I could be slow to come to an answer. Time pressure only befuddled my brain, so my times were always near the bottom of the class even though I was capable of doing the problems presented. Needless to say, I exited 2nd grade with the (false) impression that I was bad at math. This incorrect belief lasted for years and negatively affected my math education.

So you can imagine my conflicted feelings when Brianna's math curriculum suggested "practice sheets" -- strips of about 25 math problems that the child should do repeatedly with a goal of finishing accurately in about 1 minute. Ack - Time Tests! Understand, they only suggest this *well* after the child has become proficient at solving addition problems mentally using a number of strategies not to include counting. The sole purpose of the practice sheets are to increase speed. I can't argue with the practicality of this. Brianna is highly proficient at maniuplating numbers mentally to solve problems, but when adding 3 digit numbers, all that manipulation takes time. Once you know what you're doing, it's much more convenient to have the basic facts committed to memory.

Uncomfortable with the timing aspect but understanding the rational, I decided to give Brianna the choice. She chose to time herself, and with her father's stopwatch, no less! The timing does not seem to add to her anxiety or make solving the problems more difficult, as it did for me. I suspect it's because she's only competing with herself. She has no idea how she would measure up against other 1st graders, nor does it occur to her to wonder about that. She's well above the 1 minute goal time -- more like 2:40, but I think that's due more to her slowness in writing than to not knowing the answers. When she dictates the answers to me, she's around 1 1/2 minutes, depending on the difficulty of the problems. In any case, it doesn't seem to phase her. I make sure to note her 100% accuracy, and assure her that accuracy is more important than speed. I don't recall Mrs. Frank every praising my accuracy. (She may have done, but so much emphasis was on speed that if she did, it didn't make an impression.)

Alexander's preschool teacher commented during our conference today about how good he was at math. I was a bit surprised to hear this -- not because I think he's slow, but because at home he does very little math talk or play that I see. (Unless I count being able to look at a Lego diagram and copy it fairly well, which I *should*!) Brianna did much more conventional math play at his age, and would ask to do math lessons for fun. Alexander asked for lessons a couple of times, then stopped. I think the difference isn't in math ability, but in how the children approach learning. Brianna's learning is so easy for me to see. She goes about it quite conventionally, as I did, so I recognize it. When we do math lessons together 3 or 4 times a week, I see the progress and know exactly what she can and cannot do. Alexander seems to draw from more diverse sources and then manifest his knowledge in ways that I don't always recognize immediately. (Like the Legos.) Homeschooling is going to be more challenging with him simply because he and I do not share a common learning style. Nevertheless, I think it will be fun and nearly as educational for me as it will be for him!

Real Moms Get Used to Gross

It starts with that first meconium-filled diaper. Maybe it's the first "poo" diaper you've ever changed, or perhaps you've confronted the messy diapers of a niece or nephew, or a baby sitting charge. In any case, you may notice -- or you may not, in your post-birth fugue -- that it's not as distasteful to deal with as you would have thought; not quite as nose-wrinkling as the messes of those other babies that were not yours. Good thing, because that little bit of mucky stuff is nothing compared to what awaits you: diaper blowouts that reach from your baby's hair to her socks, smelly "big kid" poos smashed into your toddler's training pants, preschooler vomit all over your preschooler, his bed, you, and your bed at 3 AM, and cold after cold bringing snot, snot, and more snot for you to wipe from nose, face, hands, shirt, nearby surfaces, and yourself.

Amazingly, moms are universally able to cope with all this and more (bloody gashes requiring stitches, anyone?) without tossing their cookies or even feeling queasy most of the time. (Unless they are in their first trimester of a pregnancy, than all bets are off!) Sure, we may wrinkle our noses, or let slip and "Oh yuck!" now and then, but we quickly do what needs to be done, wash our hands with plenty of soap, then get back to making dinner.

I thought about this the other night after I dug a large booger from Alexander's nose with a Q-Tip. It was bothering him to the point of not being able to sleep, and no amount of nose-blowing would dislodge it. It was indeed a pretty gross procedure, though not the grossest thing I've done for my kids by a long shot. Nevertheless, for just a moment, I lost my "mom" perspective and allowed myself to dwell on the "ick" factor of what I had just done. I let out a cough which ended in a bit of a gag. Then I got hold of myself and went on with life like the real mom that I am.

Note: This post is in response to a Real Moms tag from my friend Jennifer. It looks like it started as a contest, which anyone can still enter up until May 11 if they follow all the rules in the link above. However, several bloggers before me have deviated from the rules, and I'm not jumping through every hoop either. I love it as simply a tag theme that threads together many mom bloggers who may not even know one another. I'm tagging Ma and Jenny!

The original rules of the Real Mom challenge say to include a picture. (See note and link above.) I debated taking a photo of Alexander's mostly-clean nostrils, but he's asleep right now. Real moms do NOT risk waking a preschooler at 11 pm with a camera flash. So just for fun, I looked through my digital photo files and found a picture of a not-so-gross mess that I once had to clean up. :o)

"Sunflowers"

Alexander has been calling dandelions "sunflowers" this spring. I've corrected him a couple of times, but I'm going to stop. After the spring we've had, I think he's more right than wrong. What better sign of the return of the summer sun than the dandelion? This afternoon, Firmin will mow the yard for the first time this year. Xander was distraught about it until Firmin promised to leave a little patch of "sunflowers" unmowed.

Update on the seedlings

Six days after replanting, every single seedling looks healthy and strong! What a great kid I've got!

Brianna Saves the Seedlings

Yesterday at about noon, a small disaster struck. The wind was beginning to gust quite strongly, as a spring storm seemed to be blowing in. My mini-greenhouse on the porch had been weighted down on the bottom, but apparently not enough. It blew over with a crash, sending my heart crashing with it. Buried in piles of dirt and overturned flats were 2 - 3 week old tomato, broccoli and parsley seedlings -- all of the plants of those varieties that I had hoped to cultivate this summer. To complicate matters, I had not used flats with individual growing cells. All of the seedlings were growing side by side in one non-divided tray of soil.

I surveyed the mess with dismay. The greenhouse had fallen onto it's front, with the zip-up opening against the floor. Potting soil was everywhere and there was no way to limit the further damage that would be done when the greenhouse was righted again. My husband tried to be optimistic. "They can be replanted. They're all there." I was not so easily comforted. I could only see the trauma of my poor little baby plants, and think about the wasted weeks of germination and growth that must now begin again, delaying the harvest beyond what I had hoped. I mentally checked my seed stock and wondered if I had enough left over. I thought with a hint of bitterness of how much money would be wasted if I needed to buy all my seedlings from someone else rather than using my own (already paid for) seed. "They *can't* be replanted!" I snapped. "This is too much trauma for them -- they won't recover!" The thought of even trying seemed too much. My day was already overloaded with tasks that couldn't wait.

Brianna came out to see what had happened. She had helped plant and care for the seedlings. She was concerned, but calm. She stepped in close to survey the damage. "Mommy, I think we could save most of them. Their roots are still mostly in the soil, so we could put them in those paper pots we made. If we do it right now, they might live!" A few weeks earlier, Brianna and a friend had made seedling pots out of newspaper. I later decided to use the undivided flats instead, but I had not yet disposed of the pots, thinking I might yet find a use for them. Shooting down my husband's optimism had been easy (sorry Sweetie!) but with my child, it was different. She was already taking charge of the situation -- running to get the pots, triaging the seedlings. How could I discourage such initiative? And why should I? Her confidence made me take another, more objective look at the situation. I saw that she might be right.

My husband and Alexander left for preschool, but Brianna and I threw ourselves into the rescue mission. In the end, we re-potted 27 seedlings. We saved many of the tomatoes, a decent fraction of the broccoli, and none of the parsley, which had only *just* germinated and were too tiny to be saved. Time will tell how many of the 27 survive, but as of last night, they were looking quite well. It was a highly satisfying endeavor for us, and a bonding experience as well. I owe Brianna a debt of gratitude for reminding me that things are seldom as bad as they seem in the moments immediately following a mishap. Her sense of optimism about saving the seedlings may have been child-like, but it was not" childish". When it was all over and we were cleaning the dirt from our fingernails, I thanked her. She just gave a small smile, but I could tell she was pleased and proud of herself. I hope she remembers that feeling for a long time. I hope it helps her persevere in future situations. And when she forgets, I hope she has a child in her life who can help her remember.

Two Posts: A Problem and Safety for Homeschoolers

Today, here and there across the country, high schools and colleges were closed or on lockdown due to threats of Virgina Tech-style massacres. I don't know how many, but I heard about four on the news today, and a very quick Google search turned up six more. I'm willing to bet there were quite a few that I didn't find or hear of. How credible those threats are is almost beside the point. The fact remains that a disturbing number of people in our society are ill and/or angry enough to entertain the idea of mass murder. I think we need to focus less on what is wrong with the individuals who commit such acts and focus more on what is going on in our culture. We clearly have a problem.

Possible areas of investigation:
*Mental health treatment and lack thereof
*Bullying, and I don't mean just among school children
*Our consistent appetite for entertainment that appeals to our basest instincts, including graphic and incessant "news" coverage that claims to go "inside the mind of a killer".
*The availability of guns and ammunition at family retail stores with minimal (and apparently faulty) background checks. (The same stores where we can also buy toys and clothes for our children made by other children in sweatshops. Another blog entry, but perhaps not so unrelated.)

I'm sure there are more, but that should be enough to get us started.

******

Whenever school shootings hit the news, homeschoolers are abuzz with relief their kids are safe at home. (I even heard some in this most recent case, which is odd since it happened at a college, and most homeschoolers do aspire to attend college. But I digress...) I have some thoughts about this:

1) It's nice to feel that one's children are safe. I must admit that hearing of all the lockdowns today made me thankful that my kids and I don't have to go through that stress. My children are less likely than most to be murdered in a school shooting, and I'm glad.

2) The idea that homeschooled kids are safer from death is an illusion. (Though a nice one to entertain, as outlined above.) I don't think anyone has gathered the macabre statistics, but I would venture to guess that homeschooling actually puts kids at a greater overall risk for death. Think about it: accidents are the leading cause of death among children in the U.S. -- car accidents and accidents in the home. Where do my children spend 90% of their waking hours? At home or in the car! Statistically, children are relatively safe from death while at school and even when on a schoolbus, so the numbers would seem to favor children who spend 30 - 35 hours a week in school.

3) I don't care. Whether in school or at home, my children are much more likely than not to live to adulthood. Taking that as a given, I believe homeschooling provides them with the best environment in which to learn joyfully and freely. I also believe that homeschooling provides my kids the emotional safety they need to develop a strong sense of self to carry with them into the world. With a healthy self-image and sense of identity, they can interact with diverse people (even bullies if need be), face tough challenges, and make good decisions. Will they do these things perfectly and be 100% happy and successful? If only! But I believe they will be as well equipped as they can be.

So for me, the question of safety involves safeguarding my kids' sense of curiosity, wonder and love of learning. It also includes giving them a safe space to be fully themselves, whether they be with family, with friends, or off alone somewhere. Homeschooling allows me to facilitate a balance of each, according to each child's needs for social interaction and "alone time". It also allows me to protect them from some of the most toxic aspects of our culture for a while longer than I would be able to otherwise.

Physical safety? Well, that's what seat belts, bike helmets, eyes in the back of my head, prayer and luck are for. And if, God forbid, the unthinkable were to occur, I'd be grateful to have had the extra hours of learning, love and togetherness that homeschooling gave us.