Pondering Prayer

I pray every night with the kids at bedtime. We also sing a prayer at meals. But prayer is among the most abstract of religious practices. Quakers don't make it any easier by doing most of their praying silently and not even calling it prayer. We "wait upon God" or "hold someone in the Light" or "settle into silence" or "seek unity in the Spirit". I love these varied terms and images, but I'm sure it can be confusing for children. Ah well, educating my kids about God is ultimately my responsibility, and I enjoy it most of the time. I feel I'm doing a good job with Bible literacy and incorporating our values (many of which are based in our faith) into our lives.

I have to admit, however, that prayer has been more difficult. I find myself repeating the trite phrases of my own childhood prayers at the bedside with the children. They were fine when I spoke them out of innocent faith as a child, but now they seem weary and rote. When I try to be more creative, I often find myself saying something silly that I don't really mean. The kids don't usually want to say their own prayers, probably because they don't understand what prayer really is. Alas, our bedtime prayer ritual has become what Quakerism has traditionally resisted: an (almost) empty form.

I finally got a clue a couple of weeks ago. A baby was born 8 weeks early in an emergency situation to a couple in our Meeting and a request went out for prayer. I told Brianna about it at bedtime and suggested that we hold the baby and her parents in the Light. I instructed her to imagine the baby healthy and strong and surrounded by a warm light and love coming from God. She was eager to do this and kept at it for much longer than I thought she would. At Meeting the next Sunday, she was interested in news of the baby and came over to look at pictures that someone had brought. I believe she finally found a *reason* to pray, and a way to do it that made sense to her. Unfortunately, I was lax about following through on this opening. I went back to the same old tired prayers the next night. Why? Laziness I guess.

Truth be told, my own prayer life could use some attention. I tried to make time in my morning schedule for it, but it never really worked out. The moment the kids realized I was actively seeking to be alone, they needed me for something every 2 or 3 minutes. Somehow growling at them repeatedly to leave me alone didn't seem all that conducive to a nice conversation with God, kwim? Nevertheless, I need to try again, maybe at a different time. I also need to try again to treat prayer with the respect it deserves for the kids -- to ditch the empty form and focus on finding ways to help my children connect with that portion of the Light of Christ which has been given to them.

Must be a Guy Thing...

Alexander and Poppy "watching" a video together.

Is it just me, or is falling asleep in front of the TV highly correlated with having a Y chromosome?

Walk and Roll

Brianna received some zinnia seeds in a neat little shaker box from my mother as part of her Easter gift. They are clearly not packaged in the northern climes, as the box instructs the gardener to "plant in early spring when all danger of frost is past." Ha! Around here, you aren't truly safe from a killing frost until Memorial Day weekend. (Though most of us live dangerously and plant before that, rushing out to cover precious seedlings with whatever bags, buckets or draping material we can find in case of a late spring plunge into the 20's.)

Frost threats not withstanding, Brianna was eager to get her seeds in the ground. We prepared the soil and sprinkled the seeds according to directions. The wind blew at least 100 of them into the garlic patch. I've mentally penciled in extra weeding time.

The highlight of the planting process for Brianna, and for me too as it turned out, was tamping down the seeds. No doubt recalling my frequent admonishments not to walk where seeds have been planted, she read aloud:

"Tamp down seed by rolling or walking over seeded area." Thoughtful pause...
"But we aren't wearing good clothes for rolling, so I think we should just walk."

:o)

Photo Fun with Brianna

Brianna took about 220 pictures with our portable webcam over the course of a few days this week. Here are couple of highlights:

New law enforcement idea: issue cheap cameras to everyone to catch assailants in the act.

Yeah, that's one of my good throw pillows -- the ones they aren't supposed to play with.



"Hey Mommy! I took a picture of myself!"

Gifts From a Stranger

Today a young man came to our door. He was pale and dressed in a tattered coat. He shuffled a bit as he asked to use our bathroom. I hesitated. I became acutely aware of my children watching me. I was thinking simultaneously of their safety and their spirits, as well as this poor man's bladder. The inner conflict was nearly paralzing. How many times have we talked about the plight of the poor with the kids? How many times have we felt warm and fuzzy as we read the children's Bible and discussed what Jesus meant when said, "love your neighbor"? On the other hand, what about those afternoon talk shows about home invasion and the sly ways predators get themselves inside one's house? On a practical level, how can you say no to someone who really *does* seem to need to pee?

My husband was home and in clear view from the door, and I didn't get a bad vibe off the man, so I let him in and showed him to the bathroom. As he was about to leave, he asked for some money for food or the bus. He thanked us for letting him use the bathroom and sheepishly said that he hadn't wanted to go in public.

After he left, I kept thinking about him. I wondered what his history was. He claimed to be on his way to his mother's house. I hoped she was the kind of mother who would feed him and be a comfort to him. I thought about how our middle-class material security isn't nearly as secure as we like to believe. I could be walking in his shoes given the right (or wrong) set of circumstances. Too late, I remembered the nearly new coat that my husband has never liked much and so doesn't wear. It's a toasty down filled parka. Winter coat weather is nearly past, and I don't know if he would have a place to keep it over the summer, but I wish I had thought to offer it. The coat he was wearing was spilling stuffing from several places.

We gave him only what he asked of us: $2 and something to eat, along with the ability to pee with a shred of dignity. (How can it be in this wealthy country that not everyone has access to that??) We might have given him a new coat as well, had I been on the ball. We also might have been friendlier. Unfortunately I didn't recover from my apprehension quickly enough to respond adequately to this man as a human being.

What he gave us was much more valuable than what we gave him. I got an experience that countered the scare tactics of the local news and the heart-hardening overload of poverty statistics, a reward for trusting in an untrusting world, and an opportunity to minister to "my neighbor" in front of my children (though I wish I had done a much better job at it). Quakers believe that there is "that of God" in everyone. I'm thankful that this man brought his piece of God to our house today. I'm only sorry I didn't give him/Him the welcome he deserved.

Time out for spring!

This week is forecast to be the first stretch of several spring-like days in a row for 2006. Thus, Brianna and I are chucking the curriculum and getting the garden going. Today we looked over all of our left-over seeds from the past 2 years, got germination tests going on some that were iffy, and made a list of what we need to buy. Still to come this week: test the soil, work in whatever organic fertilizer is needed, start planting spinach, lettuce and peas in the earth, and sow some seeds in flats to start indoors. Phew! It's quite an agenda, but I'm happy to be starting on it at last.

If Brianna were in school I'd be doing this all by myself, and the funny thing is, I'd be happy about it. I tend to like working alone: "Ah, I can really focus and get this done without interruption!" I would never realize how much I was missing! What a joy it is to hear her ideas and catch her enthusiasm. How amazing to watch her prepare a sample of seeds for germination with such care and skill, then label them diligently with her slow but improving hand. What a treat (a rare one these days) to be engaged in work of real monetary value and benefit to the family with my school-age child -- our garden will likely provide us with hundreds of dollars worth of food and gifts.

When I decided to put aside our usual routine to work on the garden this week, I initially thought of it as setting aside homeschooling and having some fun. Silly me! I should know by now that learning happens BEST when you're having fun. Simply by making our lists and testing the seeds she learned:

* the difference between annuals and perennials, or "why we don't need to buy more mint seeds even though last year's seed package is empty"

* the meaning of the term "shelf life", or "why we *do* need to buy more parsley seeds, even though there are some left from 2 years ago"

* the meaning of "germination"

* why we plant some seeds now and others later

* how to sprout seeds in a paper towel

* the value of testing a sample

And much, much more. She also got to practice her handwriting without realizing it by eagerly helping with the list and labeling the baggies containing the germination tests. Shhhh, don't tell her it was good practice -- she "hates" handwriting! ;o)

Following in our Footsteps

Demographer Phillip Longman claims that the "liberal" world view is at risk. (The Demographics of Liberalism) It seems "faith and family" types have more babies, and since more of those folks currently identify as "conservative", then the conservative world view is likely to win out. Hmmm. I'm not buying it.

First of all, "faith and family" and "liberal" or "progressive" aren't mutually exclusive value systems. On the contrary, my own politically progressive views grow largely from my understanding of the nature of God and my concern for the future of children around the world, including my own. (I realize that the current trend is leading more religious people to the political right, but trends tend not to last forever.) Second, while I agree with the commentator that over time, people tend to adopt the values of their parents, there is more to the story. I think it's incorrect to assume that there will be no re-interpretation of those values, no molding and shaping of the details by next generation.

While it's comforting to think that children re-shape their parents' values when referring to people who think differently than ourselves, it gets a bit more tricky when we apply that same formula to our own children. I think those of us who take the time to carefully and consciously develop our beliefs and values can easily make the mistake of assuming that our children will adopt our way of thinking. After all, it makes so much sense to us! We find ways to indoctrinate them, either subtly or overtly. The more out-of-the-mainstream we feel ourselves to be -- either to the right or the left -- the more we are likely to do this. We feel the need to counter-act the popular culture, but while our children are young, we seldom really fear they will reject our world view in any significant way.

Meanwhile, many of us have happily taken the scissors to our own parents' world views. We've cut and stitched the parts we liked, tossed the parts we didn't, and added in some scraps from other sources. We've created the unique patchwork quilts that represent our own ways of being in the world. If we are intellectually and spiritually healthy, we are still ripping out stitches and adding pieces here and there from time to time.

It's naive to assume that our own children won't do the same one day. A part of me would love to see my kids grow up and think like me, but I also want them to be who they are meant to be. I will keep my scrap bag of beliefs open so that they may take as many pieces for their own quilt as they wish. I'll try not to give them the hard sell. (No promises!) My only legitimate hope is that they keep the basic pattern of my quilt -- love for family and humanity, integrity, honesty, spirituality, kindness. As long as they hold these most basic of values, what will it matter if they vote for a different candidate than I do or march for a different cause or *gasp!* refuse to buy organic? ;o)

I believe these core values are the ones most reliably passed down from generation to generation. I also believe these values transcend political affiliations, social causes, and even religious beliefs. My own views on certain issues differ significantly from my parents' views, but my core values are rooted deeply in my family of origin. I am thankful to my parents for offering these values in an atmosphere of love, nurture and safety. I am blessed to offer them on to my own children in the same manner.

Tape Again

I rest my case.

Here is the newest dining room wall decoration, this one a product of both children. Alexander made a simple sculpture out of a piece of wire, and they both taped it to the wall. Please note that each strip of tape visible in the picture is actually about 5 strips layered on top of one another.

I may roll my eyes, but I really love their creativity and enthusiasm about the little things in life. :o)

Baby, you can't drive my car

Alexander: Mommy, how do you drive the car?

We were less than a mile from home. He has asked variations on this question several times, so I knew what he wanted. I explained how my foot pressed on the pedal to make the car go, how I had to hold the steering wheel just right to keep the car straight, how I took my foot off the accelerator and stepped softly on the brake as we neared our house, how I turned the steering wheel to the left to turn into our driveway. Foot back on the accelerator up the steep drive, back on the brake while I carefully steer into the garage and stop.

A slight pause, then, "O.K.! I can do all those things! Can I drive the car now?"

Poor kid. At 3 years old, he has such a long wait. This is not the first time he has remarked on the apparent ease of driving, and his confidence that he could do it just fine, thank you very much. When asked what he wants to be when he grows up, it invariably involves driving or operating something big and cool -- a train, a fire truck, an airplane, a crane, a bus.

Brianna just chuckles at him. I think she gets a secret thrill from knowing that she will be in the driver's seat before he will. She doesn't care all that much about driving right now, but she does like to go first!

Educational Tape

My 3 year old son Alexander taped this plastic bowl to the dining room wall today. Why? Who knows? Did he like the pleasing contrast of colors (art appreciation?) Did he wonder how much tape was required to get the bowl to stay in place (Physics?) Perhaps, but I suspect that his real motivation was simply to use tape.

Both my kids love tape. I have an office desk style tape dispenser so that I can (almost) always find it, and so that I only have to buy refills. In case you've never noticed, tape is not cheap! Not when you have homeschoolers anyway. (I imagine all kids like tape, but school kids either get to waste the taxpayer's tape for a good portion of the day, or else simply don't have access to tape while in school, saving their parents' hard-earned dough.) It's worth it though, for the entertainment and, yes, educational value.

The other day, the kids spent nearly an hour taping coins to pieces of construction paper. (Inspired by the tooth fairy, who taped 5 year old Brianna's tooth money to paper so that it wouldn't get lost in the sheets.) They used gobs of tape, and ended up with pieces of paper that weighed at least a pound each. When they were done, I asked Brianna how much her paper was worth. We tallied up the coin values on the abacus, which happened to coincide neatly with her math curriculum, in which she is learning about coins and adding mulitiple quantities of numbers. I think I should deduct the cost of tape on our taxes as an educational expense!

Looney Tunes

"Bugs Bunny is kinda mean, but he's funny!" observed my 5 year old daughter.

"Yeah! He's mean sometimes, but he's *super* funny!" confirmed her 3 year old brother.

I had to agree. We rented a video of old Bugs Bunny cartoons over a month ago and kept it for less than a week. They still talk about it or make reference to it to this day, nearly every day. Before watching the video, the kids had heard of Bugs and had seen pictures of him, but they had never seen him in his original context. In the interest of cultural literacy (and with a bit of personal nostalgia) I checked out the video from the library.

As I watched along with the kids I began to wonder if I had made a mistake. I hadn't remembered how liberally insults were slung about, and I had under estimated the level of slapstick violence. (Being a good liberal mommy, we talked about how those things would be hurtful to real people, but not to cartoon characters. Contrary to conventional wisdom these days, they really seemed able to understand that. I did not notice any negative affect on their behavior.) PC these cartoons were not -- some of them dated to the 1940's and maybe even earlier. The one thing I had remembered correctly was how funny they were.

The kids loved them! They talked constantly about their favorite parts, describing them over and over and over to anyone who would listen. (Guess who that was, 90% of the time…) They began to exclaim “Nah, What’s up Doc?” every time they ate raw carrots. They now pronounce the word “first” like New York City gangsters in an old movie. They are clamoring for more.

Soon after the video went back to the library, the kids were watching Bob the Builder – one of their usual Sunday morning cartoons. As I walked through the room I overheard Bob describing in ernest tones the importance of recycling. It was enough to make this committed environmentalist, composter, and recycler of everything from batteries to box board, roll her eyes. It was educational, it was cute, but it wasn’t even a little bit funny.

Belonging in the Kitchen

Today was potluck Sunday at our Quaker Meeting. At the rise of Meeting, I joined the flow of Friends into the kitchen to prepare the food I had brought to share. Quakers have long been proponents of gender equality in both public and private life, and I love to observe the strong, loving marriages in our meeting that are based on equality, generosity, respect, sharing, and sometimes even (dare I say it?) mutual submission. Nevertheless, on potluck Sunday, most of the folks in the kitchen are female. The men pitch in equally for clean-up, but traditions surrounding food preparation run strong, even among liberal Quakers. The age-old ritual of women joyfully working together in the kitchen is repeated month after month in our meeting, as it is in churches, community centers and social halls everywhere.

As I chopped my pineapple, chatting and laughing with women I love so dearly, I felt swept up in the flow of female traditions – the good traditions that can coexist with the changes that free us from the more oppressive customs of the past. I felt connected in love and strength, not only to the women around me, but to generations past, from my own mother and her friends in the small town church of my childhood, to the millions of long-forgotten women who made the best of limited life options by making food preparation a communal project whenever possible. I felt that I belonged there in that kitchen in the best possible way. I belonged to the community of Friends I was with; I belonged to my female ancestors; I belonged to God in all Her creative and delicious glory.

First Post!

I created this blog account yesterday, but didn't have time for a post. It looks so forlorn with no posts, however, so I want to get it started. This first post will be quick, since I just promised my son that he could do a computer game when I'm done. At 3, his "wait time" is very short. I know, I know, 3 year olds shouldn't be playing computer games -- bad for their brain development and all that. I am a woman of pretty high standards and principles, but I confess to buying myself some time to do the dishes with various forms of electronic media.

So now I've begun my blog by revealing a parenting practice that wouldn't be tops on my list of "reasons I'm a good mom". Ah well, a little humility is a good thing! One thing I *do* try to model for my children is keeping my promises, so I'm signing off to turn the computer over to my son and Bob the Builder.