Merry White Christmas!

Kinesthetic vs. Auditory in a Nutshell

Overheard this morning:

Alexander: I taught Ethan to throw the basketball! It only took 2 tries.

Brianna: Can he *say* basketball?

A: No. (said with a "duh!" sort of tone)

B: You should teach him to *say* basketball.

Sumo Wrestling

This week, we read about the Edo period of Japan in our History curriculum. One of the activities following the reading was Sumo wrestling! In addition to trying it out ourselves, we watched some truly informative and interesting YouTube videos on Sumo. (This one and this one. They're short -- check 'em out.)

The kids had great fun with it. For a while. Turns out the old saw is true: "It's all fun and games until somebody gets hurt." But even so, I think Alexander (the one who got hurt) would say it was worth it. It should be noted that the injury happened when they deviated from acceptable Sumo maneuvers and decided to run their pillow bellies together at top speed. Xander being the lighter of the two, went flying backwards into the wall.

So they got a little Physics lesson too. Ah, homeschooling!

The Inward Ringtone

Tonight we are having a mini-blizzard. Not much accumulation, but a couple of hours of heavy, slippery snow that makes driving difficult. I have a piece of mail that really needs to go out tonight, and if I get it to the (nearby) post office before 8 P.M., it will. I go out, brush snow off the van, and start it so that it will be warm for Ethan. The other kids are with Firmin, so the booster seat in the back remains unoccupied. I bundle Ethan into his deluxe carseat and start out. It is about 6:00 but darkness has fallen. I miss the longer days of summer.

A couple of blocks out, I see a woman pushing a stroller. There is no sidewalk on our busy road, and concern for safety has forced her well off the shoulder, onto the increasingly snow-covered grass. A single blanket covers the child in the stroller from her upper thighs to the top of her head. Only her floral cotton leggings, thin socks and slip-on shoes show. I notice that the legs are longish. The girl must be about four years old. Three if she's tall. The woman holds a cell phone against her ear with one hand as she clumsily maneuvers the stroller along the bumpy ground with the other. I imagine she is calling someone to give her a ride. I hope she is successful; it's a terrible night to be out at all, let alone with a child. I drive on for another block. I wonder how far she has to go. I wonder whom she is calling to help her, and if they will come.

The realization is slow but certain: My warm van with space for the stroller, my non-urgent errand, and my extra booster seat make me the one who is being called to help.

I turn around.

Note to Self:

Next year, plant cover crops earlier. Like before the temps plummet to the 30's and 40's. Apparently even cold-hearty field peas and fava beans need warmish soil to germinate.

Weeds, on the other hand seem not to be so picky.

:o(

Belated Halloween and Field Trip pics

Alexander was Robin Hood. I'm particularly proud of this one. It looks good and didn't cost much. The pheasant feather in the hat was the single most expensive part! (The little feathery things around his head are in the background, not part of the costume.) He got lots of compliments on it while trick-or-treating.

Brianna's Mad Scientist hair turned out pretty good. At a Halloween party earlier in the week, we experimented with letting just be loose and puffy. It looked great, but she didn't like how it got in her face, so we went back to our original idea of using wire.

My mom took pics of Ethan in his doggie costume, but I don't have those yet. He was done and out of costume by the time we took these.

-----------------------------------------------------------

We had a chapter in history on the Netherlands, so we took a field trip to Holland. Holland, Michigan, that is. My younger sister just moved there to be an assistant editor at the newspaper there, so we got in a visit as well. Unfortunately, most of what we wanted to see was closed. We could only see the dutch windmill at a distance and the historic village was closed for the season. There were a few shops open, however, so we browsed a bit.

The wooden shoe factory was a hit, as was the candle shop where they make decorative carved candles. (The candle shop was featured on an episode of "How it's Made", in case anyone caught that.) Ethan amused himself by putting the wick of a little mushroom candle up his nostril. Very educational, no?

It Matters

"Joe" the "Plumber"

Sorry, I just couldn't resist this. So ironic. Turns out "Joe the Plumber":

1) Isn't named Joe. His name is Samuel.

So.... "Sam the Plumber"? Well, no, because he:

2) Isn't a plumber. He's not even a journeyman or apprentice plumber, and therefore may have been working illegally in Toledo. (Though there are no complaints against him, so no proof there.)

But those are details, right? The point is that this upstanding, middle class American doesn't want to pay more taxes. Is that so wrong? Well no, but actually not paying them kinda is. Turns out Joe/Sam:

3) Has a lien on his house for the $1,182.98 he owes in back taxes to the State of Ohio. Oops.

Poor guy. This may turn out to be 15 minutes of fame he could have done without!

Source: This article from the Minneapolis-St. Paul Star Tribune

Back to the Garden

I took a break from my garden this year, since Ethan was at a very attention/vigilance-demanding stage during the spring and summer. It was absolutely the right decision, but I've missed having my own produce right out the back door.

Next year, Ethan will be able to toddle around the garden with me, digging holes and generally entertaining himself. So I've been getting ready for next spring. Having a baby in September of last year meant that the garden never did get "put to bed" in 2007. There were dead garden plants and weeds everywhere. Not to mention gobs of grasshoppers, which I recently learned thrive in messy, weedy garden plots. Earlier this fall, I got out and cleaned up the mess. Then last week, Alexander and I weeded one corner and planted lots of garlic.

This week, we finally managed to get the tiller from my parents' house (thanks solely to my father -- thanks Dad!) Firmin tilled up everything but the garlic patch yesterday before dinner. After dinner, I worked like a maniac until after dark, picking out as many quackgrass rhizomes as I could -- a whole wheelbarrow full, and there are still more than I want to think about left in the garden! Those plants play to win.

Today, I gave the kids the day off from homeschooling so that they could help me get the composted manure in and plant the cover crop (field peas and fava beans). A trip to Lowes for the manure put Ethan to sleep, so we were able to work uninterupted by him. Brianna and Alexander were incredibly helpful and we got the work done in about an hour.

Here's what it looks like now:
It's not much to look at, but my garden has never been so nice and clean in the fall! I think I'll add some straw or mulched leaves when I can get some. This isn't the final look, however, as the cover crop will come up and cover the plot during the winter, fixing nitrogen into the soil and discouraging weeds.

It feels good to get back to the soil. It feels good to work hard and see progress. It feels good to share this endeavor as a family, each of us doing our part to provide some portion of our own food. It feels worth every minute.

It also feels small. I'm starting to gently work on Firmin (because I'll definently need his help) about putting a large plot further back on our property. I'd like to grow quantities of bigger crops -- squash, melon, potatoes, corn -- that I don't have room for now. But that would entail breaking a lot of sod and building a good fence to keep out the many critters (including deer) that inhabit our urban "nature oasis" back there. Getting it set up would be a project for next summer, with planting beginning next fall at the earliest. I'll let you know how it goes. Those of you who know Firmin can help me butter him up! You know -- what a great husband he is, how nice our land is, how it would be perfect for a big garden, how educational it would be for the kids, etc., etc. ;o)

Remote Rant

Unlike our TV, VCR, stereo and DVD player, which all have buttons for the most basic functions, our cable box* is NOT operable without the remote control. Whose dumb idea was this?? I don't know about other families, but in our house, remote control devices can be harder to find than an empty parking spot the day after Thanksgiving. Sure, the kids bear part of the blame, but I suspect even childless adults occasionally find themselves wandering around the living room, tossing sofa cushions and cursing. (And without kids they can curse with impunity, lucky bast... er, dogs!) Firmin and I have been known to carry a remote out of the room and absentmindedly set it down somewhere unlikely, such as the kitchen counter, the dining room table, and once, inside the refrigerator! So kids or no kids, who in their right mind would create a cable box -- the device which not only must be "on", but is also the only way to change channels -- without at least basic on/off buttons and channel up/down buttons? Then you could at least watch the show of your choice while you search for the remote!

You won't be surprised to learn that today I spent 10 increasingly frustraing minutes looking for the cable remote. I had Ethan on my hip wanting to nurse, the other kids were outside, and all I wanted was a few minutes of veg time in front of the TV. Too much for a busy homeschooling mom to ask?? The box was already on, so I could turn on the tv manually and get a picture, but all that got me was 10 minutes of some unbearably manic show on Cartoon Network before I finally found the remote...

In the trash.

Sigh.


*Background: We are in the middle of our bi-annual cable TV phase. We get the 3 or 6 month deal for World Cup Soccer and Summer Olympics/Presidential election years, then turn it off again. :o)

Obama Rally

The Big Guy came to town today, and we were there! (Along with about 17,000 other people!) It was a whole-day affair, since we had to get there early. Even so, the line stretched half-way across (the very large) campus when we got into it 3 1/2 hours before the start of the rally. Note the que in the far background of this picture:


The kids held up great, all things considered. We ran into some friends with kids, so that helped a lot. As long as the line was, we ended up in a pretty good spot. I was unlucky in my attempts to get a good shot of Obama (they were all blurry), but here's a picture of Debbie Stabinow, Michigan's junior senator, who introduced him. It gives you a sense of the view we had.


Here we all are! Ethan loved flirting with everyone around us. College girls especially are a real sucker for him, and he eats up the attention. Xander was bored by the end and kept wondering why Obama kept talking for so long! (We sweetened the deal for him by ending the day at an ice cream shop in downtown East Lansing. Yum.) Brianna didn't pay close attention to the speech (of course), but she seemed to appreciate at least a little bit how historic this moment is. She was glad we came. By the time Obama took the stage, the skies were threatening, but luckily the rain held off. Only one person in the audience fainted. All in all, a great day! :o)

Ethan

What a difference a year makes:

September 2007

September 2008

Happy Birthday to my littlest guy!

(all shots taken on Ethan's exact birthday)

Be a Follower!

I'm working on updating some of the elements on the boarders of this blog. Check out the new blog roll on the right, for example. I've added several new blogs, plus you can see a snippet of the latest post on each blog. Cool, huh?

I've also added a "followers" gadget. I've seen this on some other blogs and thought I'd try it out. If you read this blog regularly or semi-regularly, you can add yourself as a "follower", either publicly or privately. This is a good way to let me know you enjoy the blog without having to post anything in the comments, which I know not everyone likes to do. (Though I love reading the comments, so I hope those who *are* inclined to comment will continue to do so!) It also allows me and other readers to find your blog if you have one. There is a place for a picture, but you don't need to have one.

Dancing on My Grave

We had very heavy rains this weekend. Today, the kids and I marveled at how far the rivers in our area have over-spilled their banks. Brianna and Alexander wanted to scout a section of new trail running behind a cemetery near our house. We drove into the cemetery and parked near an embankment overlooking the trail. The kids jumped out of the van and ran to get a better look. They pointed and laughed and romped along the ridge for a while before skipping and running back to me to report their findings.

I loved seeing their joy in that place, oblivious to the remains below their feet and the granite and marble reminders of generations past. I was reminded of the day of my Grandfather's funeral some years ago. At the graveside, we adults were somber. But his little great-grandchildren, far too young to appreciate their loss, played gleefully among the leaves on that glorious October afternoon. The pastor saw them and smiled. "I love seeing young children at a funeral" he said. "They remind us that life carries on."

As the memory faded, my thoughts turned, unbidden, to my own mortality. Some day, I thought, children may romp happily on the spot where my remains are buried or scattered. Children of children of children yet unborn. I was infused with a feeling of peace and joy. It was the most beautiful thought about death (particularly my own) that I have ever had. I pray that I may be so blessed. And if I am, I hope that somehow my soul will be aware of them, of their energy, of their joy, of their dancing into the future.

Everyday Sacred

For the longest time, I needed an apron. I spend a substantial amount of time in the kitchen, and going apron-less was proving hard on my clothes. The aprons I already owned were of the stiff, canvass, men's grill-out style. They bunched around my waist and were too big around the neck. They're simply not comfortable to leave on for any task besides cooking, so I tended to take them off during a break in the kitchen action, then forgot to put them back on when I went in to finish up. I needed a nice woman's apron -- one with full coverage, soft fabric, and a narrower waist. One that I could leave on all day if need be. But there were two problems. First, I couldn't find anything for sale that seemed to fit my needs. Second, I had a mental block: it seemed so 1950's house-wifey to wear something like that! To make matters worse, I often wear long skirts, so I needed one with a full skirt to properly protect my clothes. Forget 1950's housewife, think Amish farm wife! Eek!

The I attended Friends General Conference Summer Gathering. I participated in a week-long workshop (run by Robin M.) that addressed, among other things, ways in which contemporary Friends can find new meaning in the practices of early Quakers. One of the peculiarities of early Friends was that they did not celebrate holidays. Partly this was because of the pagan origin of many holidays, but also it reflected their belief that every day was sacred, that every act and every moment should bring us closer to The Light, to God.

Now, in practice, I'm not very good at remembering the sacredness of mundane moments. Not many people are. This is why we create rituals and yes, even holidays -- to remind us of the sacredness of life and this moment. Yet there is danger in ritual as well. Early Friends were harsh critics of "empty forms": rituals that were performed mindlessly out of duty or habit. Rather than sacred, such rote rituals were a denial of the Living Spirit within. Thus, to the extent that Quakers had rituals at all, they tended to serve some practical purpose as well. For example, plain clothing, without extraneous trim or complicated styling, reminded them of their faith, but also served to simplify their morning routine, ostensibly leaving more mental space for God and more money for good causes.

Thinking about early Quakers and the sacredness of daily life provided me with a shift in my frame of reference. Ruining my clothing was wasteful and inconsistent with the testimonies of simplicity and stewardship, but that wasn't quite enough to get me past my cultural hang-ups about aprons. The concept of every day being sacred was the clincher. I would make the apron myself, and both the making of it and the wearing of it would be a sacred act.

When I put on my apron, I'm reminded of why I do so -- to be a good steward of my clothing, sure, but also to provide sustenance for my family, to cook (as often as possible) in a way that is consistent with my ecological and community values, and to remember to make mental room for the Sacred, the Divine, even in the most mundane of tasks. Who'd have thought an apron could do all that?

I still feel a tad house-wifey when I wear it. (I'm thankful I'm not called to wear it outside the house!) Yet, in truth, the slight discomfort is probably a good thing. Without it, I wouldn't remember all that the apron signifies.

Photo credit: Brianna Charlot

Blog Love

A little Blog love from my friend Angela! Thank you kindly!

Here are the guidelines for this award:

1. The winner can put the logo on her/his blog
2. Link the person you received the award from
3. Nominate at least 7 other blogs
4. Put links of those blogs on yours
5. Leave a message on the blogs nominated

I'm going to break #7 because Angela's award list included nearly all the blogs I read! So here are a few blogs I love in addition to the ones Angela mentioned. I love these blogs because they routinely make me think more deeply:

An Even Half Dozen
Imperfect Serenity
What Canst Thou Say?
The Upside Down World

Not Back to School 2008

Lucky 13

What is the proper celebration of a 13th wedding anniversary?

What was that? Staying home and watching the Democratic National Convention, did you say? Hey, that's what we thought too! We'll be sure to snuggle on the sofa while we watch. :o)

Oh, and Happy Birthday, Sis! Thanks for giving up "your" day to celebrate "ours" back in 1995. We love 'ya!

Making Ice Cream

My new Kitchen Aid mixer came with a free ice cream maker attachment, which arrived in the mail last week. I've been promising the kids ice cream, and today was the day. I adapted a recipe from this book:
The recipe was nice and simple -- milk, cream, sugar, eggs, flavoring. (They suggested a historically typical lemon, we went with mint chocolate chip.)

I was able to make it using local ingredients, except for the chocolate and perhaps the mint oil. The cream and milk came from the cow herd we own a share in. The eggs from a family in our Quaker meeting who raise a few chickens in their back yard, the sugar was Michigan beet sugar. Even the mint flavoring *could* be local -- there are big mint farms in this area.

The recipe begins with a milk/sugar/egg yolk custard. The book states, "Don't expect your custard to be yellow like Eliza Jane [Wilder]'s unless your cream comes from grass-fed Guernseys and your eggs from scratch-fed chickens."

Check. Check. The cows are Jerseys rather than Guernesys, but that's a minor detail. ;o) I don't know why the fact that my custard was bright yellow made me so happy, but it did. (What I said in this post may have something to do with it.) Can all that beta-carotine and omega-3's make up for the huge hit of saturated fat? No? Oh well...

As much as I enjoyed getting in touch with the past, there is a time and place for modern conveniences. Like whipping egg whites to a stiff peak and turning an ice cream dasher for 30 minutes.

I don't have any pictures of the finished product. We were too busy eating!

Campfire Baby

Just for Fun!

Brianna and Alexander are off to "Grandma Camp" for a couple of days, Firmin is at work and Ethan is sleeping. With all the things I could/should be doing, here's what I'm doing instead. (Thanks for the inspiration, Angela!)

If you get a yen to similarly waste some time, head on over to this site and see what your yearbook photo might have been...

1952
This would have been a decent look for me, though it
would take half a can of hairspray to stay that way.

1960
Gotta love the glasses!

1968
My mother's hair used to look like this.

1980
My hair was very much like this in 1980, except I was 9. It was my first perm!

1992
The year I graduated college. In real life I had a smart-looking, very short cut.

Quakers and the Afterlife

In the comments under "Gathered in the Spirit", Kimberly (Ma) asked about the Quaker conception of Heaven and the afterlife. I decided to make the answer (such as it is) a separate post, so that I can easily link to resources for anyone interested. I'm no expert in the subject, and I've tried to frame my comments in a way that avoids making blanket statements about what any particular sect of Friends believe. Quakers are notorious for having a wide variety of takes on many issues of theology. Additional input from Friends in the comments is welcome.

First of all, there are several branches of Quakers, so it's hard to say what "Quakers" believe. Evangelical Friends would probably have beliefs about heaven, hell and salvation that are very similar to other evangelicals in the U.S. Among FGC (Friends General Conference) Friends (theologically liberal) and FUM (Friends United Meeting) Friends (with a theology somewhere in between -- "mainstream"?), I think there is a wide range of belief.

My Meeting is affiliated with FGC, and I suspect that few FGC Friends take a literal view of the Biblical descriptions of heaven and hell. Some would probably describe themselves as agnostic on the issue, not really knowing what the afterlife holds, but having some sense that there will be "something more" -- a union with God/Spirit/The Universe, or something similar. Those with a more traditional view of God and the afterlife probably believe something akin to the argument put forward by Phillip Gulley and James Mulholland, Quaker pastors in the moderate tradition. (I think they are affiliated with FUM, but I'm not sure about that.) They authored a compelling book on the subject of salvation: If Grace is True: Why God Will Save Every Person. Their view of God and Christ is similar to most mainstream Christians, but as the title suggests, they reject the notion that those who do not accept salvation through Christ in this life will be thrown into a literal hell. I feel comfortable in positing that the views of most Quakers in my branch fall somewhere along a scale from the Gulley/Mulholland view to a serious doubt about the existence of any afterlife at all. (With lots of people somewhere in between.)

Quakers (of the liberal and perhaps moderate stripes) do tend to put more emphasis on the creation of God's Kingdom on Earth. Many would describe humans as being in "co-creation" with The Divine in this endeavor. In that sense, the Religious Society of Friends really is more of a "here and now" religion than many other Christian denominations in the United States.

Clear as mud? :o) Hope that helps answer Kimberly's question. If Quaker readers feel I've made a mis-characterization or have anything to add that might be helpful or interesting, please comment!

Interested in visiting a Friend's meeting? Find one here.

Summer Nature

Gathered in the Spirit

I spent last week in Johnstown, PA at Friends General Conference, or "Gathering", as it is known to attenders. Quakers, most from the liberal branch of the Society, gather once a year for a week of learning, fellowship, worship, spiritual exploration, and fun. This was my first Gathering, and Brianna and Ethan came along.

There is so much I could write about the activities and events we took part in: my wonderful week-long workshop on the connections between primitive and post-modern Quakerism, lead by Robin M.; the uplifting concert by Tribe 1, in which Brianna participated with other children on stage; the opportunity to meet Eileen Flanagan in person (and attend a discussion session with her on Quaker parenting) after enjoying her blog for a couple of years now. I could go on and on about how impressive the children's program was. Brianna had a great time and Ethan seemed content to spend every morning and a couple of evenings apart from me in the loving child care. (I was floored -- so much for separation anxiety!)

But what I will always remember from FGC 2008 had little to do with the event itself. As the kids and I suffered a "series of unfortunate events" during the first half of the week, we were constantly and consistently surrounded by loving support, help, and encouragement. I can't even recall all the acts of kindness; there were so, so many. Friends from my home meeting came through in a big way, so that all of us could get what we needed, even when that meant being in two different places at the same time. I was lucky and grateful that many people in our Meeting were in attendance. At the same time, Friends who were previously strangers to me (and some who remain so still), were just as cheerfully generous and helpful. One woman from the children's program even accompanied me to the emergency room with Ethan without being asked to do so. I remain forever grateful to her and to so many others. (Ethan is fine -- it wasn't a true emergency, just something that needed immediate attention. Still, stressful enough when you're in a strange town!)

Clearly, this was truly a gathering of people who are attuned to God's holy Spirit and living according to their Inward Light. Several Bible passages occurred to me as I contemplated all that had happened, and my emotions about everything (grateful, embarrassed, exhausted, joyful, contemplative...)

First is Galatians 5: 22 - 23: But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law.

Indeed. I saw every one of these fruits in action over and over again. What I wouldn't give to live in such a community every single day.

Then I thought of the truism of St. Teresa of Avila: "God has no hands but our hands to do his work today."

And of Jesus's words in Matthew: “Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the Kingdom prepared for you from the creation of the world. For I was hungry, and you fed me. I was thirsty, and you gave me a drink. I was a stranger, and you invited me into your home. I was naked, and you gave me clothing. I was sick, and you cared for me. I was in prison, and you visited me.’

“Then these righteous ones will reply, ‘Lord, when did we ever see you hungry and feed you? Or thirsty and give you something to drink? Or a stranger and show you hospitality? Or naked and give you clothing? When did we ever see you sick or in prison and visit you?’

“And the King will say, ‘I tell you the truth, when you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me!’

So, as Friends were standing in for God by ministering to me, I was standing in for God simply by being in need and accepting their help in love and gratitude. We were God to each other in those moments! I can think of nothing more profound than that.

Thank You Hillary

I must admit up front that I've never been in favor of you winning the nomination. The reasons why don't matter any more. That said, I want to thank you for running for president and for being as successful as you were. Because of you, my daughter will never have trouble envisioning a woman as president. You reminded the nation that women can be funny, smart and tough all at the same time. You (and Bill) showed us that a powerful husband can support a powerful wife in her own endeavors. You've proven that it's not always wise to listen to those who tell you why you can't or you shouldn't. Thank you for being brave enough to blaze this trail for the next woman who will travel along it. America is in your debt.

P.S. When I searched Google Images for a photo of you, I noticed that the first seven images, along with several others on the first page were either deliberately unflattering or manipulated to be mocking of you. You've endured more than your share hostility and mockery. It's shameful, and I'm sorry you had to bear it.

Oh, and thanks for stepping down now. ;o)

Sobering Thoughts

The other day, I was waiting at a traffic light behind a car with an "Obama '08" bumper sticker. The '08 reminded me that the first presidential year that I was eligible to vote in (and did vote in) also ended in an eight: 1988. I was 18.

My next thought wiped the smile off my face. That was 20 years ago. I have been able to vote for 20 years! Gulp!

It gets worse. I next realized that while I'll be 20 years away from 18 this summer, Brianna will be only 10 years away from it. Whoa!

Sobering yes, though not depressing. I don't feel old yet. But still...

His "Tree Spot"

Wordless Wednesday

Observations From My First 8 Years of Motherhood

1) Babies need to learn that they are separate beings from their mothers. Mothers need to learn this too. It just takes us longer.

2) The little things that make motherhood seem so "uncool" to some teens and young adults -- being thrilled over a dandelion bouquet, cherishing a cheap piece of jewelry that your child picked out especially for you, decorating the Christmas tree with child-made ornaments from years past -- turn out to be deep reservoirs of joy.

3) Regular bath towels dry a baby just as well as expensive hooded baby towels.

4) Pre-washing all your first baby's clothes in Dreft is a ritual that evokes the dream of the soft, sweet, cuddly baby. It makes you feel warm, motherly, and special. It's a wonderful thing. Do it, and don't feel ashamed.

5) Pre-washing subsequent baby's clothes, many of which are hand-me-downs from your fist baby, is a ritual that evokes powerful feelings from memory and experience. It's a wonderful thing. You can skip the Dreft.

6) Every child is different. So obvious, yet so interesting to observe. What's really amazing is that many differences are apparent from birth.

7) Mom's mood sets the tone for the day, so the kids tend to be cranky on exactly the days we can least handle it well. Sad but true.

8) First babies start eating "finger foods" when they are developmentally ready and after each main ingredient in the food (oats, wheat, etc.) has first been introduced separately without ill effect.

9) Subsequent babies start eating "finger foods" as soon as they learn to crawl under the table. Luckily, this bothers you a whole lot less than it would have with the first child.

10) Unless you suspect a problem, don't watch the clock when you are nursing your new baby. (Took me until the 3rd kid to stop caring about the darn clock, but it was SO much less stressful!)

11) Childhood is short from a parent's point of view. Don't waste time hurrying.

12) Never expect to finish much of anything in one sitting. (Ethan's up from his nap now -- gotta wrap this up!)

Happy Mother's Day to all the Moms out there, especially my own! (Love you Mom!)

Also special wishes to those of you who have been with my on this journey from the beginning. Look how far we've come!

Taking Attendance

There has been some new legislation proposed in Michigan for homeschoolers. At the moment, Michigan is very homeschool-friendly, and not surprisingly, most of us homeschoolers would just as soon see nothing change. I won't get into the details of the bill that has been introduced; that's not even what I want to talk about. Rather I want to draw attention to Representative Mark Medows (D) brain-wave, revealed in his most recent constituent newsletter: Require homeschoolers to report attendance. Anyone who thinks this is a helpful idea doesn't understand how homeschooling works, or more importantly, WHY homeschooling works.

My children are "in attendance" in a learning environment every single day, even when we don't crack a single "school" book. (We never go a day without cracking some kind of book!) Sometimes their learning is facilitated by sitting down with our school materials. A good deal of math skill has been acquired in this way, for example. However, learning of a high order happens in many non-traditional ways as well. My kids know quite a lot about space, for example, even though we have never formally studied astronomy. Trips to the university planetarium and observatory, back-yard star gazing, and conversation with me and their dad has resulted in a wealth of knowledge that I dare say transcends what most 5 and 7 year olds know about the subject. They can identify numerous local birds, both by sight and call. They know about the habitats, migration, and feeding preferences of a number of local species. We've never studied ornithology, we just pay attention to the birds and to people who know interesting things about them. When the children see an unfamiliar one, they run for the guide book. I don't even have to suggest it! These are just two examples that come to mind. There are many more.

Think about something you have learned informally, yet know or do quite well. Maybe you learned to cook by watching your mother, or learned a great deal about your family's heritage through your own independent reading and research, or learned to identify the good and bad bugs and weeds in your garden, or taught yourself how to invest in the stock market. Was your learning process any less legitimate because it didn't come from a "class" or because no one sat you down and "taught" you? Of course not. On the contrary, the things you learned informally are probably some of the things you best remember and most enjoy knowing or doing.

There is certainly a place for formal teaching, especially of skills like math, reading, writing and reasoning -- the building blocks for acquiring and sharing knowledge. Both brick-and-mortar schools and home-schools can do a good job of imparting these skills. All kids experience informal learning as well, perhaps during breaks in the school day, and certainly at home. But kids these days are losing more and more of that unstructured, delight-led time. One of the strengths of homeschooling is that it allows extra time for the important casual, organic learning that comes from interest-based inquiry and free, child-directed play. It allows for an abundant mix of time alone, time with siblings, time with parents, and time with friends. My children have benefited enormously from this "extra" time, expanding their knowledge base and growing in intangible, un-testable ways. Ask a college admissions rep why they like homeschooled students, and you'll see that it's not because their heads are full of more stuff they learned while hitting the books:

“Homeschooled students, by and large, are a liberal arts college’s dream,” says Sabena Moretz-Van Namen, associate director of admission at the University of Richmond. “We want more students who think outside the box and color outside the lines. Homeschoolers often have developed into self-directed learners. Traditional high school students sometimes lack that trait.” Read the full article.

If I ever have to report to the state, I'd better print up some of these, because I don't know how I could report them "absent" on any given day.

Celebrating With Our Neighbors

Alexander and Brianna follow along in the Haggadah. Note Xander's yarmulke!

The Passover Seder was wonderful. We were immediately "adopted" by a couple (our family doctor's parents, believe it or not) who invited us to sit with them and helped us navigate all the steps of the evening. Someone Firmin knows from work was also there. Thankfully, it was an abbreviated Seder -- it still lasted about 2 1/2 hours, which was about perfect for the kids. They really enjoyed it and came to appreciate the difference between reading about something and experiencing it. I could tell that this little community up the street from us is a warm and loving one, much like our own Quaker "family".

Alexander is still singing the snippets of songs that we can remember, such as Dayyenu, and cherishing the yo-yo he got as a "consolation prize" for not being the finder of the Afikomen. He also helped act out the 10 plagues, and raised his hand to answer some of the Rabbi's questions. (Book study does count for something!) Brianna took a more "observational" approach, as is her style, and she also had a good time. By the end of the Seder, all of the children -- including Brianna -- had escaped to the hallways to play hide-and-seek.

In addition to the blessings we were hopeful for, I found one unexpected bonus. I'm never much of a drinker, so abstaining from alcohol while I'm pregnant or nursing is a no-brainer. However, in the interest of balancing tradition with the needs of my nursling, I drank one of the traditional four glasses of wine, spread out over about 2 hours. (I kept cutting it with grape juice as the night went on, so that by the time I finally drained the glass it was mostly juice.) Last night, Ethan slept like a dream, waking only once, and even then, not enough to nurse. Maybe it was just a coincidence? ;o)

Other People's Holidays

Kids get you out of your comfort zone. Or they should, anyway. Here's how Alexander is expanding my world these days:

The other day, we read the Bible story of the Exodus, specifically the 10 Plagues that God visits on Egypt in an attempt to persuade Pharaoh to let the Israelites leave. These plagues are gruesome and the last one is violent, with the death of thousands of innocents, including animals and children. I was a little uncomfortable reading it. Alexander had no such trepidation. He thinks it's one of the best stories he's ever heard.

A river of blood? Eeeww! Cool!

Knee deep in frogs, first live ones, then dead ones? How excitingly awful!

A Pharaoh who keeps changing his mind about letting his slaves go? "Arrgh! God is going to have to send more plagues!" (Great minds think alike...)

The death of every first born human and animal in the whole country? A: "Wait -- what about Moses and his people?" Me: "If they put the lamb's blood over the door, everyone in that house lived." A: "Oh! Phew! THAT plague probably worked then!" (Did he read ahead?)

Our children's Bible contains some historic and cultural information in the sidebars. The sidebars on this page explained about how the holiday of Passover is a remembrance of this story of how the Israelites were delivered out of slavery in Egypt. Alexander was *all over* a holiday about this wonderful tale!

A: When is Passover?

Me: I'm not exactly sure, but it's some time around now. I can go look on the calender.

A: Can we do it? Can we do Passover? We could do it tomorrow -- it's OK if it's not the real day!

Me: Well... I've never participated in a Passover Seder. I don't really know how to do it. Let's get some books about it at the library tomorrow.

After checking the calender and seeing that Passover has not happened yet this year, and after reading some books about Passover, Alexander's interest in the holiday is still strong. We live just down the road from a Reform Jewish synagogue. I offered to call them and find out if they have any Passover services that are visitor-friendly. He loved the idea. I discovered that calling a house of worship that you are a total stranger to is a little scary! (What if I inadvertently offend or sound really ignorant, because I AM?) But hey, I'm a brave mama. I called today and left a message. ;o) If they call me back and welcome us, Alexander and I are going. I'll keep you posted...

Typical

Barak Obama has reached out and grabbed the "third rail" of U.S. race relations with both hands and he's feeling the heat. He gave a beautiful speech in response to questions about his association with Jeremiah Wright. Then he stepped in political doo-doo by saying that his Grandmother was a "typical white person" in that she has internalized some racial stereotypes. White folks are now all in a dither about this statement, wondering aloud whether Obama believes that all whites are racist.

Well. Here we go. I'll grant that Barak Obama made a political gaffe with the "typical" comment, but I think he spoke more truthfully than many of us white people (especially white liberals) would like to admit.

I invite my white friends and family to consider these examples from my own life and see if they don't resonate a little -- maybe a lot. Maybe you'll be uncomfortable, but until we start admitting that we are infected by assumptions of white superiority, we are not going be able to recognize where we need to get better. Being hampered by stereotypes is not the same as being racist, but it can lead us in that direction if we don't take a good hard look at it and question our assumptions and reactions.

Scenario #1
I am standing in line at a McDonald's one day several years ago -- before I had children of my own. A little black boy of about 4 or 5 is using his finger to pretend to shoot various targets in the restaurant while waiting in line ahead of me. I am disturbed by this behavior. After a few moments, I realize that my reaction is contingent on his race. If the boy were white or Asian, I wouldn't be disturbed at all. I might be disapproving (remember this is pre-kids!) but I wouldn't be *disturbed*. I would interpret his finger shooting in light of an internal image of rowdy little boy-hood and nothing more. I am ashamed of myself, but there it is -- a racist thought that I didn't even recognized as such at first. Without conscious thought, I am interpreting the boy's behavior in light of an internal image of black teen gangsters, even though there is nothing "ghetto" about the kid -- he's wearing normal clothes and accompanied by an average looking middle-class parent. I remember this incident sometimes when my own little 5 year old brown boy is playing rough and rowdy in public.

Scenario #2
When it becomes clear, near the end of college, that I might end up married to Firmin, I begin to dream of our future together. I have grown up happily in small-towns, so my default image of family life is small-town life. It hits me suddenly, like a ton of bricks: if I marry him, I will probably never live in a small town. If we do, questions of our safety and the psychological impact on our children will have to be considered. I can't believe I never really *got* this before -- if you are black in America, you cannot freely live wherever you want. All options are not open to you, at least not without considerable downsides. The implications go beyond the niceties of low population and big lawns. It affects your career opportunities, educational options for your children and more. My world both shrinks and expands in that instant. For the first time in my life, I am on the other side of race privilege. I hadn't even known I was on a side before this. Crazy, huh?

Scenario #3
I'm walking down the street and I see a fast food bag full of trash come flying out the window of a passing car. The people in the car are black. I take note of that.
Typical.


Thanks to Jennifer at Faking It for the inspiration to blog about this topic.

"Caution: Razor Sharp Stone! Not for Children!"

Here's what you can miss out on if you always play attention to those warning labels:

Saturday Pursuits

I always love Aliki's "Saturday Pursuits" posts. For once, my family did some interesting things on a Saturday!



The igloo was started last weekend, but finished today. (Just in time for pouring rain and 40 degree temps predicted for tomorrow! Ack! They covered it with a tarp to protect it from the rain. We'll see if it survives...)





The "fancy" planes are Alexander's. The colorful planes in a stack are Brianna's.

My Quaker Children Build a Snow Man

Scene: Children are playing outside, rolling large balls of snow. I step out to put a bag of trash in the barrel.

Alexander: Mommy, we need my sword! Can you get it for us?

Me: Which one, the wooden one or the plastic one? (Clearly, I am an enabler.)

A: The wooden one. You know what we're doing?

Me: Building a snow knight?

A: No, we're going to build a snow man, then throw the sword at him and stick him with it. He's like our target!

I don't think they even bothered to make a head. Maybe that's a good thing. Anyway, no sentimental photos of smiling children next to a carrot-nosed Frosty this year. The snow man's body lies hacked to death in our yard. Ah, childhood!

The Final Car Seat (I hope)!

Ethan weighed in at a whooping 19 lbs., 1 oz. at his 4 month check up a couple of weeks ago. The infant car seat we had borrowed from a friend had a weight limit of 20 lbs, so it was time for a new one. Needless to say, I wanted to get one that was BIG, with good safety and a high weight limit. The one we choose is rated for rear facing to 35 lbs and forward facing to 70 lbs. I had 60 lb, 48 inch Alexander sit in it and he fit just fine at the highest head rest level. Cool. (I wish I'd snapped *his* picture in it too!) The company manufactures race car seats, so I feel pretty good about the safety too. It cost an arm and a leg, but who can put a price on this precious face? :o)

My car seat fanatic friends (you know who you are!) will notice that the head rest and shoulder straps are not properly adjusted for Ethan in this picture. He was just trying it out. Rest assured that we adjusted it properly before we installed it. We're off to have the installation inspected later today, just to be sure.

Men of the Hour

I love that these two guys won last night. I'm leaning heavily toward Obama as my presidential choice, so of course I was happy to see him win big. It does my soul good to see a black man win so handily in a white state. I was happy to see Huckabee come out on top too, in spite of the fact that I disagree with him strongly on some issues. I like his populist streak and the fact that he's "sticking it" to the moneyed elite of his party. They both speak a message of hope and reconciliation and are kinda-sorta trying to run positive campaigns. (I'm also comforted by the fact that Huckabee would almost certainly be a very long-shot in the general election, especially against Obama.)

They have a long way to go, and many obstacles ahead, but the race is on and well run so far. Go get 'em boys!