So, what do you do all day?

My best friend's mother actually asked me that question about 4 years ago. She wasn't being rude or insensitive or even asking why the dishes weren't done and the dining room table was covered in laundry (because we were at her house and she couldn't see the mess in mine). She truly wanted to know how the days filled themselves in our life.

Well, let me tell you...

This morning started late. I slept in until 8:16. My husband isn't working at the moment and since I was up at 6, finally giving in and taking some allergy meds, he let me sleep in while he got up with the kids.

Last night I went to a party with my mother-in-law. She arrived just as dinner was finishing and I blithely left the house to go enjoy the company of other grown women. I returned about 9:30. My kind, loving, wonderful husband offered to fix me a hot fudge sundae- and I said yes. He fixed the ice cream, turned out the kitchen lights, and I didn't give that room another thought- until this morning.

I stumbled into our kitchen at about 8:17. Blearily looking in the mug cupboard I realized that the dishwasher hadn't been unloaded and there were only clunky mugs left on the shelf. I hate clunky mugs so I opened the dishwasher and found that the dishes were still dirty (I actually took a mug out and almost poured coffee in it before I realized- Benadryl is not really my friend). At that point I looked- really looked- around the kitchen. There were dishes (with food still on them!) on the table. The sink was full of dishes (not drip drying after washing either). The stove was covered with something greasy. There were leftovers in the dishes on the stove. This is not the sight that normally greets me upon waking.

I started the dishwasher, washed some dishes by hand (after first washing and filling my coffee mug), washed the table, washed the stove, cleaned the window, watered the plants, nuked my cold coffee, picked up garbage papers off the floor (darned kids!), swept the sand off the floor (darned kids!), nuked my cold coffee, prepared some cereal for the kids, opened string cheese wrappers, cleaned out the moldy leftovers in the fridge, nuked my cold coffee, started a load of laundry that included the dish drying towels and dish cloths, folded the load left in the dryer (except for the hanging shirts which are still on the couch), poured my cold and burned coffee down the sink, and finally had a bowl of granola and yogurt for breakfast.

At 9:38 I forced my oldest child to sit down at the kitchen table and read to me. He was particularly brilliant today and told me very confidently that y e l l o w spells tan F a t h e r reads as funny, n sounds like r, and helps and car are the same word. Honest to Betsy- he read all the same words three days ago and did just fine with them. Today I threatened to make him do preschool over again because he obviously needs to brush up on his alphabet skills.

At 10:30 I mixed up a big batch of Jello (which still hasn't set up). The little boys helped immensely by dumping in cottage cheese and oranges. Then they continued helping by spreading toys and papers all over the kitchen floor so that I could practice my agility skills while trying to get the jello from the counter into the fridge. I may have raised my voice a wee, little bit when I instructed them to clear floor or suffer untold agony.

At 11:00 I sent Chris back to his room to put on underwear before leaving for school. Why is it that a seven year old can't seem to remember the underwear go on before the pants? "I just forget sometimes," he says. After he emerged fully dressed we continued our daily geography exploration by trying to figure out where Europe ends and Asia begins. I'm embarrassed to admit that I'm still not sure. We also reviewed all the South American countries and the states in the USA.

At 11:55 we left to take Chris to school for P.E. Today he finally had an opportunity to speak with his p.e. teacher and asked him if it would be ok for him to leave and use the bathroom if he needs to. The teacher told him that it would be fine, he just needs to ask first. Weeks (possibly months) of angst and now, that easily, Chris's anxiety is relieved. Thank God for the wonderful speech language pathologists that help smooth the way during these times of need. Truly, Mrs. J is a blessing and there are things she sees and mentions that I would never consider as possible causes of stress.

At 1:00 I returned to the school to pick Chris up (after running home to make lunch for the little boys and start a batch of bread). We talked about his class and how relieved he feels since he had "a little talk" with Coach. Then we returned home and began looking at Indian Head Nickels, searching for dates and mint marks. Of course we also had to bring out the huge map of the USA and place his entire collection of state quarters on the appropriate states. The little boys built Lego ships, space ships, airplanes, rockets, and space stations while pretending to live on different planets.

At 2:30 I had a ferocious headache and went to take a nap. My husband agreed to watch the kids and bake the bread.

At 4:00 I got up and went to bake the bread. Then I put all the dirty dishes that had collected in the dishwasher (apparently this is a highly skilled task that very few are capable of doing). I also washed all the bread making dishes, talked on the phone with a couple of friends who called, folded mounds of laundry, started my fifth load of laundry for the day (I do love the homemade detergent), quizzed Chris on math, complimented Captains Jake and Sam on their rocket ships, read several stories,

At 5:00 I started making Alfredo sauce, sauteing chicken, boiling noodles, and warming frozen peas. Dave and the kids set the table.

At 6:30 I answered multiple, repeated, annoying questions about space, stars, planets, dwarf planets, comets, sun spots, and why Mexicans speak Spanish.

At 7:00 I told the children to find their father, came out to the unheated patio, shot some people using the Mafia Wars application on facebook, and finally started to update my blog.

At 7:02 I wiped Jake's nose, found Blankie, and answered more questions about why Pluto is a dwarf planet instead of a "real" planet.

At 7:07 I told the annoying children that, yes, they can have ice cream- "Go ask your father."

At 7:10 I used my "outdoor voice" to order the same three children off my patio.

At 7:12 I felt bad and went and closed the door to the living room so that the sound of crying was muffled.

At 7:51 I am ready to post my blog update. After this I will return to the house, clean up the ice cream mess in the kitchen, fold some laundry, dry some laundry, wash the dinner dishes, kiss the kids good night, thank my husband for putting the kids to bed, and then- I'll probably come back out and check my email.

This is what I did all day today- although I think I forgot to write a few things down. Isn't the life of a stay at home mother exciting? :-)

The Sand Truck Cometh...

We had sand delivered this morning. Dave recently moved (and cemented in) the swingset out into the pasture, near where the garden is going to be. It needed sand to cushion the base. We also live on some of the heaviest clay soil in the known universe. There's kaliche (sp?) six inches below the surface in most areas and I can make pinch pots that stand the test of time whenever we irrigate. It provided hours of entertainment when I was a child. Now however, I'd like to grow some vegetables and they tend to get root rot when the soil is mainly clay (no drainage).

So... the sand truck cometh. I'm not sure I'll be able to get Chris to school today. It would be a shame to discourage him from shoveling. :-)

Is P.E. essential to life?

Chris was sick and stayed home from school all but one day last week. Today he felt well enough to build in the dirt around the swing set but still told me he was too sick to attend school. I was a bit puzzled but decided that being the mom meant I could make the choice for him, "You look healthy enough for school. Get dressed!" He kept hemming and hawing until I finally asked him if wanted be un-enrolled for the rest of the year. Upon receiving an affirmative answer I queried whether he'd miss music? Yes, he certainly would. Library? Yes, that too would be missed. Ahhh.... I understand now..... "P.E.?"

Nope, he'd rather quit going to school altogether than go to P.E. Apparently he and "Coach" are not fans of each other. What's more, Chris once had to go to the bathroom, "really, really bad," last year and when Coach wouldn't excuse him to use the restroom Chris almost had an accident.

After being out all week with the flu Chris was not willing to risk having an accident during the one whole hour a day he attends school. We compromised. I sent a note asking that Chris be allowed to leave class and visit the restroom without explaining himself. I mentioned that he's feeling a bit anxious about the situation. When we arrived at school I spoke with his speech therapist (who facilitates everything for him) and told her about his dilemna. She found out for us that Chris had music today and so Chris went happily to class.

The therapist kept my note and said she'll talk to Coach today and get him "educated" by tomorrow. Tomorrow Chris is to report to her room where they'll role play the conversation where Chris is going to tell Coach that sometimes he needs to leave class and go to the restroom. Then Chris is going to give Coach the note and explain that sometimes he needs to leave.

It seems like a whole lot of trouble for something as simple as being excused from class to perform a biological function. I have two strong thoughts about the situation. First, why is it such a big deal to let a kid use the bathroom in the first place? Second, why is it so hard for Chris to speak up about his needs? Both individuals involved in this situation could handle things differently and have a positive outcome. Yet- here we are.

Mrs. J (SLP) thinks seeing the whole little drama out will be a good opportunity for Chris to really think about how communicating his needs helps him get those needs met. First, we have the written communication in the note. Second, we have verbal communication between Chris and his teacher. Third, we have resolution of the problem. It's all very logical. I'm sure it's a good idea. Yet- it feels like we're negotiating a hostage stand-off instead of simply teaching a seven year old how to ask to use the restroom when it's inconvenient for the teacher to comply with said request. Am I the only one who sees a molehill growing taller here?

A bag for Great-Grandma

This is the first project I've made using the "Feathered Friends" fat quarters I purchased for my birthday. It seems only fitting that I make birthday gifts using the birthday fabric! I don't really like the light blue bottom of the bag- I'm worried it will get dirty very easily. Other than that, I really like the way the bag came together. Very stripey!

Dave's Grandma's Quilt!

My fourth post of the day! It must be a record!

This is the unfinished quilt top I pieced for Dave's Grandma D.

Better Fabric Pictures

Here are the fabric choices

Amy, Here are the fabrics I've collected so far. Of course not all of them will be used in the quilt. The pallete is looking too brown, there are not enough reds (or at least not the right reds). I'd like more blues and cool colors. In short- there is not a quilt in the works yet.

On a totally selfish note- I'm making a queen size quilt for myself once I complete the baby quilt and the lap quilt that are already in the works. It will be a good six months or so before I want to tackle Mom's quilt so I have a good long while to shop.

A small vent (or- blogging while sick)

Yesterday I was lucky enough to cook a birthday dinner for both my mother and grandmother. Mom turned 60 last Sunday and Grandma turned 88 today. I seem to have picked up Chris's virus so I didn't do much eating, but everyone else seemed to enjoy the food. We had a pretty good time. It amazes me that both of these vibrant women have reached the ages they are. Neither one looks her age.

In the course of the evening I showed Mom the fabric I'm using for Christine's quilt (on hold until I feel a bit better). Mom (for the second time in a month) wanted to know why I've made all these quilts for everyone except her. I tried giving her the same answer I used last weekend, "Don't ask questions," but it didn't go over well. Now she tells me that not only do I owe her a quilt, I have to let her approve the fabric. She doesn't want it "flowery."

First off, I have not made very many quilts. I made one for Chris, Miranda, Sam, Jake, Sophie, James, Pat, and I have a finished (but not sandwiched) top for Dave's Grandma Dirikson (sp?). I also made a baby quilt for my friend Jennifer and now I'm working on one for Christine. In the grand scheme of things- that is not a whole lot of quilts. Pat had surgery last fall and I wanted to make a quilt for her to enjoy during her recovery. Grandma Dirikson is always very kind to us- and she's not getting any younger! We've never sent her presents and rarely get to Burley to visit. A quilt is my way of letting her know we appreciate her.

My mother lives close enough I can see her house. Occasionally (like last weekend) we travel to rabbit shows together. I always buy or make her something for Christmas and her birthday. She is not generous with her time or affection. Before Sam was born she babysat Chris twice. After Sam's birth (6/22/2004) she's taken Chris for a few hours here and there 3 or 4 days during the year. She has never spent time alone with Sam or Jake. I'm not saying that my mother isn't a lovely person with many admirable traits- she's just not someone who makes me feel a deep gratitude for the help and comfort she brings to me and my family throughout the year. She does let me steal frozen pigs and rabbits out of her freezer when I need them for dissection. She also lets us borrow her pickup if we need it and bring it back full of gas. If the kids want to go visit and look at rabbits, or pygmy goats, or play with the donkey she'll let them... as long as they bring an adult and don't mind if she spends the time on her computer instead of playing.

I do have plans to make a quilt for Mom. I've been collecting fabric for a couple of years now. There still isn't enough fabric for her quilt. I have no intention of letting her choose what I'm making or the pattern I'll be following. That's not how the quilt giving works in my house. I make what I want you to have. You accept it and act pleased. If someone wishes to pay me for my time and effort then they can choose their own fabrics and tell me how they'd like the quilt finished. Otherwise, smile- nod- don't ask questions.

Anyone want to quilt with me?

Since spring is a full, busy time around our house and I don't have nearly as many hours to sit around thinking deep thoughts... I decided that in the interests of keeping my blog going (without philosophical discussion) it would be a good idea to do a few craft posts.

At the moment I am working on a quilt for my friend Christine. She is having a baby just about any day now- on Monday at the latest (since she has an induction appointment on Monday morning). I bought a set of Darla (by Tanya Whelan) fat quarters from Hancock's of Paducah (my all time favorite fabric store!). I anticipate using about half of each fat quarter to make a generous size baby quilt.

Quilting is more of an art than a science for me. What that means to you is that until the quilt is finished I will not know how much fabric I'm using or what the final dimensions will be. I'm planning on constructing the top using 8.5" squares.

Today I cut 4.5" strips and 2.5" strips from all of the Darla fabrics. I also cut a 4.5" strip of pink minky fabric (to add textural interest to the quilt).

Tomorrow (hopefully) I'll post pictures and directions for the two different types of blocks I'll be using to piece the quilt top.

Family Happenings

It's past time for a new post and I have nothing controversial or meaningful to say. Failing that I thought I'd fill you in our family happenings.

Dave's work is slow again and so he's been home more. Thank goodness he was home this morning since our sink wouldn't drain and he saved us the expense of hiring a plumber by taking the drain apart himself. I have now been lectured about running the water longer when I run greens and egg shells down the garbage disposal.

Chris was sick all day yesterday and bugged me all day about how he got sick, why he got sick, what exactly the sick was, etc., etc. Today he's back in good form and talking about horses and goats and rabbits.

We dropped Sam back to two days of preschool a week. He attends Tues. and Thurs. After spending a year and a half complaining about how much he dislikes school- he's now mad at me for decreasing his hours. I made the mistake this morning of asking him whether he wants to go to the local public school for kindergarden or if he'd like to be homeschooled. Now he's really irritated because he tells me he wants to go to the school he attends now- which only goes through 4yr old preschool. Poor kid. He just can't win.

Jake tells me he missed me very much when I took the older boys to school today. He stayed home and helped Dad fix the sink, but he wasn't impressed with the process. Chris told him that Bunny is gone forever (although the toy is not gone at all) and Jake replied, "That's too bad, I will miss her." He's got such a funny, mature voice sometimes.

Let's talk about depression

On Friday at our co-op one of the moms told us about a friend of hers who recently committed suicide. The woman had three week old twins at the time. Of everything that stands out about that conversation is that the family is LDS. Relief Society was bringing food and stopping by most days to ask if there was anything the family needed help with. My friend was shocked because the new mother never asked for help. She always said thing were fine. Then she begged her husband to stay home one day and while he was caring for the babies she went out to the garage and hung herself.

Their Bishop spoke to the ward the following Sunday and reminded people that if they were in need of help they should ask for help- regardless of sex or age.

Here is where my concern comes in. When I was depressed I didn't realize it. I truly believed that I was just a bad housekeeper, a bad mother, not a very nice person, and generally worthless. It was surprising to me that someone who started adulthood with as much potential as I did should turn out to be such a dud. It never once crossed my mind that I could or should ask anyone for help. When I asked my mom to help by watching the kids for a couple of hours she told me that I was the one who chose to have children. It was my responsibility to care for them. I believed her. I believed it was my burden to carry and it was not right of me to ask anyone for help with housework, childcare, groceries, or meals. Luckily I was not severely depressed. It did cross my mind once while driving alone that it might be better for everyone if I just crashed into a tree and never returned. The insurance money would provide for a house cleaner and meal preparation. It would also pay for childcare- I was not a good mother, the kids would probably do better in daycare.

Depressed women don't always realize they're not functioning correctly. They don't realize that there is no shame in asking for help. When they do ask for help, if they're rebuffed, they may never ask again. It is not as simple as picking up the phone and telling someone, "I need some help doing laundry, organizing the bills, and preparing meals." Symptoms of depression include confusion, inability to concentrate, and feelings of guilt and worthlessness. A depressed woman may not be able to organize her thoughts enough to delegate tasks. If you simply tell someone, "Let me know what I can do to help," a depressed person may be desperately in need, but unable to articulate what they need. If you show up and just start working, the depressed mother may feel more guilt- it's a very delicate balance between being polite and baldly stating, "I'm going to help whether you like it or not!"

So... if you are my friend... and I think you need help... please don't feel awkward, angry, embarrassed, or irritable if I come over and start doing your dishes, call you on the phone a couple times a day, send other friends over to visit, or tell you about my experience with depression and then ask if you are feeling at the same way. You are important. You are important to me. You are important to your parents and siblings. You are important to your community. You are important to your husband. No one is more important to your babies than you are.

No one wants to be in the group of people saying, "I offered to help, maybe I could have done more." In that spirit I encourage everyone who may read my blog to do more than offer to help. Come up with a concrete task you can accomplish and then just go do it. Don't take no for an answer- and find a humorous way to complete your work. Sometimes it's something as simple as calling on a regular basis. Sometimes something more concrete like babysitting or folding the laundry is most helpful. Rarely, calling a mental health professional or the paramedics may be required.

You may not be depressed and I may annoy the heck out of you when you perceive that I am being nosy. I don't care- because if you are depressed I don't want to hear one day that you are no longer with us. I don't even care if I lose your friendship- because it's most important that we don't lose YOU.

Baby Teeth

Today Chris had his first dental x-rays, his first novacaine shot, his first nitrous oxide, and his first two teeth pulled. Hopefully they'll be the last teeth he has to have pulled, but we won't know for a while. Last Thursday, while eating an apple, Chris called out, "Oh no! My tooth hurts! I have a cavity! I need to go to the dentist!"

When I looked in his mouth it was plain to see that he had more teeth in there than he should. His adult lower, central incisors were coming up- behind his baby teeth! Luckily we couldn't get in until this morning. We had 4 days to talk about what to expect at the dentist's office. Chris was excited to see the dentist! He really likes him- which is a very good thing.

My one criticism of the dentist's office is that this is the second time Chris has been seen within the past few months. Every time I call I remind the receptionist that Chris has Asperger's Syndrome. I put it on his paperwork during the first visit. Normally I do not immediately tell people he's on the autism spectrum. It feels wrong to tell people to expect him to act differently, and so I usually try to help him transition into new situations without alerting everyone surrounding us that he is "different." However, the dentist is one person who REALLY NEEDS TO KNOW! Chris needs more time to get used to new ideas. He needs more explanation of what is going to happen. He needs to get into the office and have things happen- not wait several days or weeks and then return.

I need to be present if new stuff (like x-rays) are being done. It's not just me being overprotective- you will not get a readable x-ray if I'm not there to keep him calm and tell him what to expect. The dental assistant telling him to hold as still as possible (in her cute, friendly voice) is not going to hold him. His mother saying, "The machine will move around your head, it will make a funny noise, and if you move the x-rays won't work," will hold him still. Once I took the dentist aside and asked if there was a note in his file regarding the Asperger's (there wasn't- even though I told the receptionist about it when I called this time too) they were better about letting me help. Are most parents really such a liability that the staff should keep them away?

It also bugs me that it has to be brought up when Chris is present. There should be some discreet way of discussing the issue before we arrive at the office (for instance- when I call and tell the receptionist he has Asperger's Syndrome). Chris should think he's normal, or at least as normal as any individual with his family can be. How will he ever feel as if he fits in if he mentally catagorizes himself as something disordered? Asperger's Syndrome is not who Chris is. It's an interesting fact about him- like he's blond. I hate having to bring it up- but there are times when the information really is relevant and helpful (like when you're about to pull his teeth).

I took two Night Time Tylenol the night before last. My head still feels like it's floating somewhere above my shoulders. I'm not sure if it's a residual from the diphenhydramine in the Tylenol, the psuedoephedrine in my Zyrtec-D allergy pills, a combination of both, or simply that I am (and have always been) a space cadet.

This morning I got ready to load the kids in the van and discovered that Jake was still wearing jammies. Chris went to school without underwear (although- should I really have to check?) and Sam arrived at his school in a short sleeved shirt with no coat. I made Sam wear Jake's coat into the building and now I'm sitting here hoping he didn't let that ruin his whole day!

I did get the bread made. The whole house smells like freshly baked bread- so that's one good thing I did this morning. It's a gray, overcast day and my sense of time is skewed because it looks much earlier than it is. I'd gotten used to seeing the sun on a regular basis and my mind is just not prepared to deal with the unrelenting gray any longer.

Friday is my turn to teach the preschool class at co-op. Our topic for the day is keeping our bodies healthy through good nutrition. I think my plan for the hour is to provide each child with a simple food pyramid chart (the old food pyramid, the new one is weird). I'll cut out pictures of foods ahead of time and ask the kids to classify them as grains, vegetables, fruits, meat, dairy, or treats (including oils, fats, and sweets). Unless someone comes up with a better song before Friday we will sing Yummy, Yummy (the Wiggles). I still need a story to read- anyone have some suggestions? We'll make a simple trail mix with popcorn, cheerios (oat), chex (wheat), dried fruits, sunflower seeds, and mini m&m's. I suppose we could also play fruit basket upset if enough of the class is present on Friday. Will that fill up my hour or do I need more activities?

Is it Tuesday already?

Time seems to fly by these days! I was watching the little boys in the bath tub this morning and comparing them to this time last year. Sam and Jake are able to bathe by themselves (if the floor needs cleaned) and they help each other wash hair. Last year they needed constant supervision. I had to hold Sam down to wash his hair. Jake drank soapy bathwater whenever my back was turned. Both boys poured water by the cupfull over the side of the tub to make "waterfalls."

A year doesn't seem like a long time in relation to the rest of my life, but it's a large chunck of each child's lifetime when they're this young. I think of all the projects I'd like to do each season and how few of them we actually complete. There will be (and have been) many springs in my life. If I don't dye Easter eggs this spring- well, what's one spring out of 34? Jake- well, if we don't dye Easter eggs this spring- he probably doesn't remember dying them the year before. He only has 3 years of experiences. It's hard to keep that in perspective when I get tired and irritated. Every week of every month is important when you're young. A day still has 24 hours when you're three or four years old, but their hours and their day seem longer to them than my days and hours seem to me.

It's my job to make sure that the kids' days and hours are filled with meaningful experiences and memories. I can't give them back their childhoods once they are adults.

Sam isn't liking preschool. He has never liked preschool. I send him anyway. He's speech delayed and "needs" the speech therapy services offered by the school. Commitment and follow through are important values that I strive to teach my children. Sam has remained in a preschool he dislikes because I feel it would be "quitting" to pull him out. But- would it really be quitting? He's not thriving there, and he's not going to be four years old ever again. This is a commitment I made, not Sam. Is it fair to expect him to live with this situation 4 days a week, every week, until the end of May?

Last week I put Sam on the waiting list for speech therapy through St. Luke's/Idaho Elks. He liked the office building. He likes the receptionist. He'd like to spend less time in the echoing halls and classrooms of the very old building where he goes to preschool. I'm still ambivalent about pulling him out of school, especially when there are just a few months left. Am I letting him get away with something harmful if I let him choose to quit going to preschool? Or am I finally listening to the needs of my child and giving him more freedom to just be 4?

Janet rarely writes when she is happy

It's true. I sit here looking at the computer day after day, thinking to myself, "I should really post something on my blog." The sad truth of the matter is that I do most of my writing when I'm excited about something. One day I told someone that I have a "mad" blog. That's not quite true. I've been getting a bit more blog traffic lately so I went back and re-read a lot of the old posts (to make sure there wasn't anything too terribly embarrasing on here). It's not so much that I write when I'm mad, it's just easier to write when I feel strongly.

The number of posts addressing religion and religious issues astounds me. I do tend to think about religion and faith a lot (who doesn't?) but it suprises me that it's something I write about so frequently. I have typed things here on my blog that I would never dream of saying to people I'm not very comfortable with. When new people read my blog it is the religious posts that cause me the most concern- because they are from that very soft, easy to hurt, belly of my psyche. My faith is the most private thing I write about.

It also suprised me to find how few of my posts are directly about my children. I'm with the kids all day, every day. You would think that I would write about them, and not just as an after thought. Perhaps it's because I'm with them all the time that I don't write more about them.

Moms spend a lot of time during any given day going through the motions. A lot of what we do can be done on autopilot. Although time consuming, there's not a lot of intellect required to fold the laundry. Cooking requires a bit of direction following (sometimes) but it's not rocket science. Scrubbing the floors, cleaning the toilet, running the kids to appointments- there's not a lot of thought involved in any of those tasks. And so... I think. I think not terribly deep thoughts, but they're my thoughts. I own them. They don't belong to other people. I don't have to speak them, but some days I want to share my thoughts and in a household with three young boys, two dogs, a rabbit, a guinea pig, and internet.... well...

The world wide web provides me the opportunity to speak my mind, vent when I'm angry, rejoice when I'm happy, grieve when I'm sad, and share when I feel creative. Through the marvels of modern technology I can connect with other people who have similiar interests and sometimes I can just put my thoughts "out there" and it feels as good as if I'd had a major heart to heart with a good friend. I think it makes my husband happy that I can work through things by writing before I come and vent to him... it shortens the stories.

Happy Presidents Day!

I have a kind and wonderful husband who let me sleep in this morning...until 7:30. He had very good intentions, but then he went to the bathroom. At that point Chris came into my room (loudly) and proclaimed that since I told him he had to continue reading every day in order to keep his new horse- he was there to read! I thought about sending him back out of my room. I thought about putting him off until I had my glasses (and clothes) on. In the end, I patted the bed next to me and told him to go ahead.

Today is President's Day and I thought we'd take the day off (which isn't unusual since we're really unschooling types). I walked into the kitchen. There they were- my precious offspring- eating bagels and wiping melted butter all over the table. Ahhh, it was a sight to warm a mother's heart (or make her think seriously about getting up earlier so that she can control the meal making and clean up mess as it happens).

As we were eating our bagels Chris started asking questions about his ancestors. He was fascinated to find out that some of his Anderson ancestors were pioneers (I have no idea how the subject came up). Of course, he didn't really know what pioneers are or how they're different from people who move into new areas today.

We've recently been exploring medieval Europe so Chris did understand a bit about fuedalism. Over breakfast we talked about how much unclaimed land there would have been in the United States outside of the original 13 colonies. We spoke of the hope for land ownership that would have driven most immigrants to commit to the long journey by ship into America. Then we learned about the pioneers who moved even further from civilization in search of large tracts of land they could farm and then own- all through the merits of their own hard labor.

In looking up the Homestead Act I found that it was signed into law by Pres. Abraham Lincoln during the Civil War. We also talked about the Civil War (but not in depth) and the freeing of the slaves. We learned that the Homestead Act was still active in Alaska until 1986. There were 170 million acres homesteaded in the United States.

Today is a holiday. It is now 9:04 am. We're taking the day off.

Go visit.

I have nothing of great importance to write about today, but I would like to encourage you to visit one of my favorite blogs. I love Octamom. She's a homeschooling mother of 8 and her blog frequently cheers me (especially the one about sippy cheese). Today she wrote about her daughter (who is hearing impaired) getting mad and using a bad word. Please go read all about it. www.octamom.com

How do I stand?

February 4, 2009
>
> Idaho--Legislator Contemplates Homeschool Restrictions
>
> Dear HSLDA Members and Friends:
>
> We have been receiving calls from Idaho members who have been
> contacted by Representative Donna Boe. Rep. Boe told these members
> that she is planning to introduce a bill in the Idaho Legislature to
> require homeschools to be registered and be annually tested.
>
> She told these members that according to the Idaho Constitution, it is
> the state's responsibility to educate the children. She indicated that
> she wants to know what homeschoolers think about this proposal.
>
> To help her, homeschoolers may want to email her through the Idaho
> legislature website at http://www.hslda.org/elink.asp?id=6074 or call
> her at (208) 332 1038 and let her know whether you would support this
> proposed bill. You may want to briefly share with her the benefits of
> your homeschooling and your thankfulness for the current freedom you
> have to teach your children in Idaho.
>
> Thank you,
>
> Chris Klicka
> HSLDA Senior Counsel


This lovely missive was waiting in my inbox this morning when I logged on. Truthfully, I don't know enough about the proposed bill to be for or against it. My gut reaction is that I'm opposed to regulating homeschooling. On the flip side, it might be a good idea to register our homeschooled students with the local school district- just so they're accounted for somewhere. Idaho is one of the least regulated states in the nation for homeschooling. We simply fall under child abuse and neglect laws- there are no laws specific to homeschoolers. Is that a good thing? Is it a bad thing? Possibly it just is what it is.

We're in a budget crunch at the moment so I also have to ask how the testing and registration will be funded. Will the money come out of the state budget? The school district's budget? My budget? Who will administer the testing?

Will the testing establish parameters for "acceptable" education at home results? If a child is special needs (or simply a poor test taker) how will that affect and effect the results of the testing? Will there be a limit on how poorly a child can test before they're forced to enroll in a public school? How will this affect private and parochial schools? Homeschool in Idaho is on equal legal footing with private school now- will this bill change that? What happens if the public school children fall below the "acceptable" limit that affects homeschool enrollment? Will those children have to change schools? Is there a possibility their parents could lose custody?

If there is no limit on how poorly you can test- what is the point of the testing? How will compliance be enforced? Who will fund enforcing compliance? What will the total real cost of this bill be? Is the cost an acceptable expense during this time of economic crisis? Is there an indication that Idaho homeschool students are being neglected and that this legislation is necessary? If there isn't any sign of a problem- why is this legislation being introduced?

Why? Why? Why? How? How? How much? How Often?

I think a whole post of questions must set a new record for me, but I wanted to get all my thoughts down and out there for public consumption. There are no deep thoughts here. If anyone has input on any of these questions (or new questions you came up with on your own) please leave me a comment.

Apple Pie

Bringing in the Sheaves

P.M. Shaw

Sowing in the morning, sowing seeds of kindness, Sowing in the noon-tide and the dewy eve; Waiting for the harvest and the time of reaping, We shall come rejoicing, bringing in the sheaves.

(Chorus)

Bringing in the sheaves, bringing in the sheaves, We shall come rejoicing bringing in the sheaves.

Sowing in the sunshine, sowing in the shadows, Fearing neither clouds nor winter's chilling breeze; By and by the harvest and the labor ended, We shall come rejoicing bringing in the sheaves.

(Chorus)

Going forth with weeping, sowing for the Master, Tho' the loss sustained our spirit often grieves; When our weeping's over he will bid us welcome, We shall come rejoicing, bringing in the sheaves

(Chorus)

Ok, I've been thinking about Brandy's blog (http://www.mrsbroth.blogspot.com/) and her post about the LDS prophet. More accurately, I've been thinking about some of the replies to her post. It's been a while since I've tried to put my faith into words and after thinking about it in the bathtub this evening here is my best shot at defining my faith.

Last fall I wrote:

"I always pictured God's truth as a pie (probably an apple pie). That pie has to feed many people, and it is a continually replenished dish. Any religion you can think of has at least a small piece of that pie. None of the religions have a monopoly on pie. Where religious issues get sticky is that each church adds some of their own toppings to the pie. After all, apple pie surely should be served a'la mode. But then again, some people prefer their apple pie with sharp cheddar cheese. Some like the pie hot, others cold. Once in a while you find enterprising gourmets who drizzle fresh caramel sauce over the apple pie and ice cream. Delicious, wonderful enhancements.

But how do we separate the enhanced toppings from the simple goodness of the apple pie God gave us in the beginning?The extra ingredients get all tumbled together. The dessert may be palatable in any form, but we tend to begin thinking that apple pie a'la mode is the only good pie. After a while we forget that in the beginning there was just pie. God didn't serve it with ice cream, we added that ourselves. When we forget who added the ice cream we begin to condemn those people who eat their pie with cheddar. They aren't as apple pie-ish as we are. Their truth isn't our truth. What we really forget is that God already gave us the truth and we chose to add to it to make it more palatable to us."

After much reflection I have found no better way to express my feelings towards religion. On a very personal level I can share what I feel while attending church and why I would lean towards one religion over another.

We come together, the church as the living body of Christ, to give thanks and praise to God. There is no ulterior motive in the formation of a church (at least there shouldn't be). We stand shoulder to shoulder and sing in praise of the Lord and my spirit is lifted. We drink from the loving cup and feel the power of the Lord as we accept his blood, shed for us. We come to the pastor and accept the body of Christ given for us... and our souls' thirst is quenched. We linger in fellowship after the service ends and break bread and drink coffee together and form bonds of friendship and love with others whose only purpose in being in this place at this time is to love and praise God.

It seems very elementary (keep in mind I did go to Catholic school) to post the Apostle's Creed here, but it's a very simple statement of belief- and, other than the belief in the catholic church, it captures my beliefs:

" I believe in God, the Father almighty, creator of heaven and earth;

I believe in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord. He was conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit and born of the Virgin Mary. He suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and was buried. He descended to the dead. On the third day he rose again. He ascended into heaven, and is seated at the right hand of Father. He will come again to judge the living and the dead.

I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy catholic Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting. Amen. "

Although I am willing to give everyone the freedom to exercise their choice of faith it really bothers me when their choices are exclusionary, bureaucratic and fear driven. There is a certain comfort level among Catholics. They truly believe that there are those who are Catholic and there are those who are in error. It's also their belief that God will sort it out in the end and you have responsibility for your own soul. They don't have to save you. You will come to God or you won't. That struggle doesn't seem to keep them from spending time hanging out with you today and it doesn't make saving you their top priority. The Catholics I know seem to be very comfortable in their own skins.

Lutherans seem much like Catholics. They're a little more relaxed since the belief in personal confession to God frees you from visiting the priest and confessing all to him before repenting. I love the policy of open communion. Sharing the body and the blood of Christ is so important that it shouldn't be reserved only for those who are up to date on confession and baptized into any particular church. The prevailing message here seems to be; "All are welcome at the Lord's table, the check has already been paid."

Hospitality. The Lutheran's offer of hospitality is what made the small voice inside of me say, "This is the place!" All are truly welcome. The little old ladies waiting by the front door will make sure you know where everything is and introduce you to anyone you might have common interests with. The pastor will offer you spiritual advice or talk about the Superbowl- your choice. When you're ready for the heavy stuff, the pastor is always available- and he doesn't mind if the conversation occurs over a fine bottle of wine.

The important things seem so small when you look at them individually. What does it matter if your faith allows you to drink wine? Who cares if people not of your faith can take communion with you? Does it really make a difference that you can or can not sing loudly or reverently during your church service? Is fellowship hour important or just a chance to mooch cookies after the service? Is it important to offer the opportunity for spiritual leadership to women? Can non-traditional families actively participate in your church?

I've been to other churches (lots and lots of other churches- theology has fascinated me since I was five). Some of them feel very good. Some of them make me feel uneasy. One of the churches I visited brought me much closer to God. I hadn't had a very personal relationship with God for a few years. When people started rolling in the aisles and speaking in "tongues" I started praying harder than I'd ever prayed in my life, "Lord, please get me through this safely. I promise I'll pray every day- several times a day. I'll be good, kind, compassionate, honest. I'll work in service to others. Lord, just get me through this evening. Please God, I'm scared. Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I fear no evil...." It did bring me closer to God and I have found that the power of prayer offers assistance and refreshment in all situations. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing to have that particular church experience :-)

Something that is anethema to me is bureaucracy as a form of religion. Does God really care if you dot your i's and cross your t's? If your baptism isn't recorded in the annals of history does that mean God will not know you during the final days? If you never heard the word of God -are you forever doomed unless someone baptizes you long after you've decomposed? Does God expect us to "save" everyone we come in contact with? Does God expect us to perfect our souls by denying sensual delights and call all the pleasures of the flesh "temptations?"

I believe God made our bodies so receptive to pleasure because he intended that we enjoy our existence here on Earth. The great commandment: Love God and love one another was revealed in the new testement. Doesn't the coming of Christ, who died for our sins, reset the parameters and free us from Levitican law? Following the order to love God and love one another is a bit more complicated than it sounds and the ten commandments still apply (I can't think of a single one that doesn't build on LOVE GOD AND LOVE ONE ANOTHER). Moderation in all things is key. Denying pleasure for the sake of obedience may help bring some people closer to God, but others among us are wired differently. In no way am I suggesting hedonism is the way to go. Simply put, we would all be better off if we worked harder on loving both our neighbors and our enemies and spent less time judging those who believe or act differently than we do.

Uncertain Expectations

“The best things in life are unexpected - because there were no expectations.”
Eli Khamarov

Last week my Great-Aunt Mary passed away in Rupert. My memories of her are few and dim. What I do remember is that she always was kind, seemed happy, and took time to acknowledge everyone around her and make them feel special. She was also a very good cook. If that's all people remember of me when I am almost 98 years old- the sum of my life can't be too bad!

Aunt Mary is the older sister of my Grandmother Loucks (Dad's mother).

As a child it was one of my greatest wishes that my grandmother would be kind, happy and acknowledge me when I was in her presence. When I was six I realized that I'd been at Aunt Kitty's for half a day and in the same room with Grandma- and she'd never even smiled or waved at me. Being kind of a strange six year old I decided to wait until she looked like she wanted to talk to me to go say hi.

That time, when she looked approachable to me, did not come that day. I abided by that choice (to wait to seek her out until she looked welcoming) for the next six years. In those six years I did not speak to my grandmother- not because I was ignoring her, but because I was waiting. No one, except me, seemed to notice.

There are some fabulous women in my father's family. I don't remember my father. He died when I was 22 months old. His sisters Kitty and Barb have children born the same year I was. My aunts were always welcoming and went out of their way to include me in family events. My Uncle George also went out of his way to include me and get to know me. If it weren't for the three of them I most likely would have been forgotten and everyone's life would have been more peaceful.

The (hmmm... I have a hard time finding the right word here. Is it rift? Absence? Unfriendliness?) difficulty I had forming a relationship with my Grandmother began to color my expectations of every family event and my hurt feelings had to have affected the way I interacted with everyone else. By the time I was twelve it was an easy leap of logic for me to believe that I truly wasn't needed in the Loucks family and most certainly my presence was wanted by very few of my family members. Although I did have plenty of experiences that led me to believe what I did, my own expectation of failure (in this arena) certainly contributed. Teenage girls are not joys to be around. Teen age girls who think they have reason to feel slighted are just that much worse.

Isn't maturity a wonderful thing (hope I attain it someday!). By the time I was out on my own and had formed some amazing friendships (and eventually a marriage) it was easier to believe that perhaps the difficulties with my grandmother weren't because I was such a very hard person to love. By the time I had my first child it occurred to me that perhaps the absence of affection wasn't even intentional. After the birth of the third child I was pretty certain that my grandmother could not possibly have enough time on her hands to even spend more than a passing thought on me at all. The woman did give birth to 11 children- and nine of them are still alive.

I almost forgot Jake's birthday this year! He's only three- and I have only three children! What would it take to keep track of and spend personal time with more than three times that many children? By this year, I truly believed Grandma's inaction in relation to me was more of benevolent sort of forgetfulness. And- well- I am an adult now- and grandma has been very welcoming every time she's seen me the past 8 years (all three of the times).

In the end, I did not pursue a relationship for a number of reasons. Blood binds us together but it doesn't give us a shared past or an affinity for each other's company. I don't know her- and she does not know me. It's awkward getting to know someone new and when the fear of failure is strong - because I've failed in this same arena many times in the past- the reward has to be weighed against the risks. I am 34 years old this year and can admit that I have given up any sort of expectations when it comes to my father's family, largely because I would need to carry at least half the responsibility and I am tired.

I am tired of trying to meet other people's expectations of me. I am tired of pursuing relationships, whether friends or family, that are not equal and reciprocal. I am tired of worrying and wondering. I am tired of fearing failure and spending energy on things that, in the final analysis, aren't really very important to me. I am tired of being a perpetual teenager.

I am a grown up and it is within my abilities to choose the people I want to spend my time and energy on. It is my choice whether to spend my time on any relationship. It is also my responsibility to care for my husband and children and provide a safe, welcoming environment for them to grow strong and wise. Any choice I make that affects my physical, mental, or emotional well being has to be weighed in relation to it's effect on that responsibility.

I wrote most of my father's family off. They are off my radar and it has been quite peaceful in the corner of my mind that is labeled, "family." Relationships I never had can't be mourned or worried about. If they didn't like me when I was 2 then it isn't my responsibility to try and convince them to like me now. I don't know them, they don't know me. Although we are related we certainly don't need to have a deeper connection. Life is full and busy around our house.

All of this writing (some of it pure drivel) has been leading up to this- My grandmother reached out at her sister's funeral. She invited me to her home (which is a whole 25 minutes or so from mine). She gifted me with an afgan and was hoping to find a photo album she thought I'd like to have with pictures of me and my Dad. Most shocking of all- she told me she'd been missing me- and it was a bit emotional for both of us.

Uncle George and Mom were there (we'd ridden to the funeral together) and we stayed and visited for quite a while. It was awkward but it was good. Grandma showed me pictures of all her great grandchildren and I promised to bring my sons to visit her soon.

It is such a strange thing that when you give up expectations amazing things can, and often do, occur. I no longer hurt because I seemed doomed to only have 5 grandmothers in my children's lives (Truly- 5 grandmas before Grandma Loucks). My heart was filled with joy because we have the opportunity to know 5 amazing women who are our progenitors. My husband has two truly lovely sisters my children have relationships with (as well as a brother, his dad, and the spouses of his siblings). Blessing after blessing has been showered upon my little family. And now, when I wasn't looking for it, we have regained a sixth grandma.

Life is strange, though wonderful. I'd closed that chapter in my book. Now it looks as if there may be more pages to write in the history of our hearts about the Loucks family. It's awkward, but there is promise here.

Compassion in conservatism

One of the blogs I read a while back (sorry, I can't remember which one) made the statement that there is no compassion in conservatism.

Today I'd like to tell you the story of the bread working in the community.

There is a bakery in Boise (capitalist bakery, that is) that donates all their bread over run to the local refugee center. The local refugee center uses what it can and tries to distribute the rest of the bread throughout the community so that nothing is wasted.

One of my friends is friends with the refugee center's director. She came to visit the other day and brought a huge bag of bread with her. When I say huge... it was hard to lift... both because of it's weight and it's mass. I protested, but she left here without that huge bag of bread.

There was way more bread than our family could eat or store. Waste was going to occur. I hate waste. Waste is sinful (especially when so many are making do without the plentiful food they had a few years ago when the economy was good).

Have I mentioned that my husband's family is Mormon? Mormons are very efficient in the way their wards are organized. It took just one phone call to begin the ball rolling and get the bread distributed to households who could really use a little extra bread. Once I started giving the bread away I found many other venues we could have used to distribute the excess bounty.

You know what's amazing? The government wasn't involved. We gave the bread away on inauguration day. So, you know, the actual distribution had to wait until after we heard Obama sworn in. Other than that, the bread distribution was totally free will.

We're a happy group of bread give away-ers (yep, I just made up that word). Isn't it amazing that the bakery donated their excess bread so that it wouldn't waste? And then the refugee center passed on whatever they couldn't use. My friend passed on what she couldn't use. I kept a couple loaves and then passed on the rest.

A lot of families benefited from the generosity of the bakery. The bakery benifits by generating good will in the community. Those who can afford their bread pay for it. The people who have less and can't afford a $4.00 loaf of bread still enjoy the product (and we tell our friends and family about this wonderful bakery). Lots of people could have hoarded the bread or let it go to waste. People could have waited too long and let the bread become stale or moldy. Yet, we all did what we had to do in order to make sure waste did not occur.

Charity begins at home. Communities work together to care for the weakest and most needy of their members. Even the weak and needy can contribute to the community effort. Everybody wins when communities work together.

Lots of people pulled together to make sure the most posssible people benifited

Would you buy this?

Ok, I'm about to share a horrible mistake. I love the green cow fabric. It makes me happy. The colors, the images, the happy cows... I love it all. Yesterday I made a bag for Dave's mom's birthday. The idea of making some bags to sell on Etsy has been hovering around the edges of my mind for a couple weeks now (since I love making the bags and I'm about to run out of family and friends who still need one). Last night I decided to try making two bags at the same time (assembly line style) and see if I could shave some time off (and to figure out how many bags I can feasibly make in a week).

The first bag I had planned out in advance. It went together with no problems. The second bag (the Happy Cow Bag) I pulled fabric from my stash and just started cutting. I wanted to finish before bed and didn't spend much time planning it. I made both bags with the same dimensions. Pat's bag- I really like. The Happy Cow bag- has a huge orange stripe and nothing else to really recommend it. I did iron some fusible web on more of the cow fabric and make some cute little appliques that take up some of the orange space. But now the question is- should I put the bag on Esty or dispose of it some other (less public) way. Would you buy this bag (no, an affirmative answer does not constitute a binding legal contract for the purchase of said bag)?



Here's Pat's Daisy Bag.

Labor Pains

I've started a quilt for Dave's grandma but it's not going very quickly. This may have something to do with me being an idiot and dual enrolling my oldest son in homeschool and "specials" at the local elementary school. This means we spend about 2 hours a day running back and forth and waiting (with not quite enough time to accomplish anything). It also means we have to fit the structured part of our lessons in either before or after school instead of at our leisure (which worked very well during Christmas break). I think next year we're going to commit 100% to homeschooling because running back and forth to school every day is getting in the way of our education :-)

Here's the fabric for the quilt. It's a much more mellow, earthy pallette than I've worked with before. I hope it all comes together the way I'm picturing it in my mind.

Here are some of the completed and partial blocks. Does it look too much like an old lady?

Miranda's birthday present

I've been pretty lazy since Christmas but I did start a lap quilt for Dave's grandma and yesterday I made a tote bag for Miranda. Chris and I also made a bunny softie. Chris even sewed the arms and legs himself- too bad I forgot to take a picture!



Here's a picture of Miranda's bag. I really like the fabric combination. Chris donated the fabrics out of his personal stash. He didn't mind sharing since it was a present for Mir.

Angst resolved

I finally received a response from the co-op director with info about my co-teacher. It turns out she's someone I graduated from high school with (about a million years ago). She also has the curriculum thing in hand since the human body class was her idea. It's such a relief not to have that hanging over my head anymore. I just have to show up and teach my classes (we're alternating weeks). She's following the Joy School curriculum (which I've never seen but have heard good things about) and plans to adapt it to fit within our alloted time.

My co-teacher also suggested facebook as a great place to catch up with others (so I'm not shocked when I walk into a room and am working with someone I actually know- but don't recognize). That same day my cousin Angie sent me an invite so that all the cousins could be in contact easily. It's now official. I think I may be addicted to facebook. Hopefully once the new wears off it won't seem so seductive and steal so much of my time.

I am so confused at the moment. This fall we had the opportunity to enroll in a homeschool co-op that meets on Fridays in Boise. The winter class begins the end of January. All new parents are required to teach a class their first session their family is enrolled in the co-op. My four year old is very speech delayed and so I listed the preschool as my first choice for teaching.

Good news! I was assigned to team teach "the human body" in the preschool class. This should work out well since I'm afraid Sam (my son) will need some extra help communicating with others in his class.

Bad news! I have no clue who the other teacher in my team is and the school directors have requested that curriculum outlines be turned in by January 9th! More bad news! I am the 4-H leader who taught cloverbuds (5-8 year old members) in the rabbit project all about reproductive physiology. My six and seven year olds could all diagram (and label) the female reproductive tract (rabbit), discuss the difference between mitosis and miosis (and why they're different), and diagram the development of a kit from zygote to embryo to fetus. Yea! Great 4-H animal science skills for kids who are breeding their rabbits.

Now, how do I figure out what to teach a group of preschoolers about the human body. I need direction (truly, everyone wants me to have direction... I have strange children and no clue about what is age appropriate). I have emailed the directors of the coop 3 times and never received a response. My computer fried a while back and I do not have contact info for anyone in the co-op (since we're new to all of this) except the email address for the directors. What do I do?

I'm afraid that if I don't hear anything this week I need to back out of participating in the co-op this winter. If they don't respond to questions and concerns now- how difficult is it going to be to get along and have a productive year once classes start? We are so new to this. Is it possible that things are much more loosely structured than they look? I hate to be unprepared at the start of a project. It almost always means the entire project will be stressful, unorganized, and not nearly as fun as it could have been.

Service

As mothers we serve our families. Every day. During the holiday season this service is something we take for granted. We're the mommies. Of course we serve our children, our husbands, our parents, our in-laws and sometimes our friends. Who serves us?

It's so easy to caught up in serving others, in particular our families, that we forget what an important lesson it is for our children to learn to serve others. If we always act in service to them, eventually we become servants TO our children. I love my children as much as any other mom, but I never intended to become an unpaid servant in my own home.

This year one of my goals is teaching my children to be more compassionate and helpful in our home. All three boys love to help, but they only like to help with the fun stuff. No one offers to lift a finger when something really boring (or gross) needs to be done. A lot of that is my fault. I haven't expected them to help and so I never ask them for help with a lot of chores. Also, I respond pretty quickly when they have needs but rarely ask them to respond that fast when I need something. I've always assumed that I'm the mommy and it's my job to do most of the work.

It's true. Most of the work is mine. It doesn't have to be. I ran around the entire holiday season like a chicken with it's head cut off doing things for my family (and with my family). Every night I went to bed late and I woke up early in the morning. My family for the most part played, watched television, ate the meals I prepared, and pursued their own interests. In retrospect it would have been very nice if they'd helped in preparing gifts for others, cooking meals, setting the table, cleaning, doing laundry, or generally being of service to the whole family. My husband was wonderfully helpful and cooked dinner for a week and a half straight to allow me time to quilt.

This year's goal: Teach the kids to work in service to their family.

Now, if only I had a plan of action to bring that goal to fruition.

Surviving the Holidays

We survived the holidays. For a few moments I wondered if we would all make it through with no tears and our senses of humor intact. As of today I think it's safe to declare a tear free/ injury free holiday! Hooray! We made it!

Santa was very nice to our boys (and their parents) and each kid received one cool toy (and no more). Chris got a little stable with two Breyer Stablemates horses. Sam received a Batman motorcycle and Batman action figure. Jake received a Spiderman car and Spiderman action figure.

Grandma bought each boy a digital camera (quite a hit) and we gave them all pajamas (two pairs), Christmas sweaters (red), shirts (2 each), and towers of treats ($3.75 at Marshalls for the lovely decorated towers of goodies that usually sell for $25). Sam got a Sansa MP3 player. Jake got a cute puppy that has clothes and accessories. Chris got an electric kettle and a set of 6 espresso cups and saucers (perfect size for tea when you're 7).

Our family and friends all gave us goodies and now I can't cook in the kitchen because there's no counter space. I think most of the stuff is headed for the freezer today. All in all it was a very pleasant holiday. We forgot to bake the cake for Christmas Eve dinner. I did make 4 pies, but somehow at the end of the baking I forgot all about making birthday cake. Chris told me all about it that evening and then decided that we could eat ice cream after Christmas dinner (store bought tamales) and that would make a fine birthday celebration. I do think he's got a firm grasp on the idea that Christmas is really a time when we celebrate Jesus's birthday.

This isn't a terribly exciting post but I felt like I should write something since my blog hasn't been updated in ages. We're all tired and basking in the glow of the Scentsy while recovering from the consumption of way too much sugar. I hope everyone else had a wonderful and uneventful holiday as well!

To Satisfy Amy's Curiousity

Here are the completed projects I've been working on lately. Yes, it seems there are very few of them. Just a reminder to anyone who may have forgotten- I have a 7 year old, 4 year old, and a barely 3 year old. They are sooooo helpful when it comes to my crafting projects too. You would not believe the assistance they offer in organizing my fabrics, keeping track of my applique templates, and re-arranging my quilt block layouts.

The first quilt is one that Amy pieced and didn't ever finish. She kindly shipped it to me (I still owe her $4.80 for shipping) and I backed it with green micro-cordouroy and then stippled it. She even included the fabric to bind the quilt! It makes a beautiful baby gift for a friend of mine (if I ever get over to see her). Thanks for sharing your unused quilt top Amy!

The second quilt is Sophie's Christmas present (I'm working on James' quilt today). It a very simple strippy quilt that I backed with some fairy covered flanned I bought when we found out Katie was pregnant with a girl (yes, it's actually taken me that long to make a project for Sophie). It is randomly stippled with variegated pink thread. I hope she doesn't mind the very linear look of the strippy quilt. They're not my favorite but time is of the essence so I opted for simple piecing and actual quilting (instead of tying).

The cute little tote bag is a present for someone (somewhere). I found the applique pattern at Anna Maria Horner's website and it looks like a Lab to me, so everyone is getting a puppy for Christmas this year (especially those who really don't want a live dog)! It's done in Christmas fabrics and I think it looks very festive. These little lined bags are so easy and so fun I could make new ones every day.

Now I just need to finish James's quilt, a few more tote bags, some Christmas ornaments, two table runners, and a wall hanging. There are 10 days left- I'm sure some of the projects will get done!

Motivation by Fear

We've recently come to unschooling as a learning method. It's a very counter-intuitive way of teaching. Learning is "delight driven" and children are surrounded with a rich environment and opportunities for exploring. Direct teaching and lessons are avoided although curriculum is still present and accessible.

My first thought when I heard about this method of education was to question if children would spend the whole day watching cartoons and learning how to play video games. Years ago I read the Tao and occasionally a lesson from the Tao pops up in the course of my day. Leading from behind is a central concept of the Tao. It's a hard discipline to master, but the value of encouraging your "troops" to move out ahead of you is immeasurable. In the course of a day I couldn't even begin to plot out the lessons we've been learning since we threw out the lesson plans and started unschooling. I have learned that my son can be organized, disciplined, motivated, and goal oriented. He just wants to set and achieve his goals, not mine. There's nothing wrong with that. In fact there's a lot right with him directing his education.

He retains more information, studies for longer periods of time, has better comprehension, and more original thought about a subject when he chooses what to study. Education's purpose is to prepare us to learn what we need to survive and find employment when we're adults. In the course of a year without lessons my son will still learn math, science, reading, social studies, and spelling. He may not learn them the same way a child in a brick and mortar school learns them- but he will learn them.

If you're interested in flags of the world and pursue that course of study you will learn geography. While learning geography you will learn a bit about foriegn cultures. The study of foriegn culture will lead to trying out international cuisine and cooking. Cooking will lead to the study of math and chemistry. Math and chemistry in the kitchen will lead to science experiments and nature observation. Nature observation will lead to climate studies. Climate studies will lead to statistics. Before you know it your school year is over and no lessons were planned, no lessons were taught, a few worksheets were filled out while the child was bored in the waiting room waiting for the doctor, no busy work was completed, and your child now speaks rudimentary German and plans to enter a Lego engineering contest.

We tend to believe traditional school is the way to go- because most students graduate able to survive and find employment. It's easy to follow the traditional path because it works for most and until you've tried something else there is always a fear of failure. What if I do something different and find out that the only way to learn to read is through phonics and worksheets? What if I try something different and find out that the only way my son can manage to complete his work once he's an adult is if I make him sit up straight in his chair and do two hours of homework every night when he's seven? What if I allow my child to be a child... and he's still a child when he's 47?

Fear is great motivation for keeping the status quo. What if we allow two men to say they're married and then my children think it's ok to marry men (keep in mind my kids are all boys)? What if the state recognizes same sex couples as having equal legal rights as hetero couples? What if my sons see gay people who are recognized as a couple without condemnation and then they don't grow up to marry nice women and give me grandchildren (I am counting down the years... it's the only way I'll ever have female descendants)? What if?

What if we each live our own beliefs (non violent beliefs) and teach our children the values important to us? What if we trust our sons to grow up strong, moral men even if they see others who are different than they are? What if we allow true delight driven motivation to guide us?

I know some who read this will argue that man is programmed for pleasure and will seek the evils of the world if left unguided. What if we trust in the Spirit to guide our path? What if we relax a little and take the time to reflect about what truly brings us pleasure? Is it the sinful, evil things of the world that pleasure you? If you're like me (and I bet you're more like me than you'd like to admit) the images that come to mind when you think of pleasure may be:

the feel of a baby snuggled into your neck,

smelling fresh grass and sunshine warmed earth,

laughter shared with loved ones,

loose, tired muscles achieved through hard physical work,

hearing your children learning to reason and use logic,

the first butterfly flutter you feel the first time you're pregnant,

the smell of fresh baked treats and the excitement on the faces of your family when the treats are served.

Most of us left to a "delight driven" existence would not choose the evil and unwholesome. We would still make good choices. I don't choose to love my family and care for their needs because it is commanded or legislated. I care for my family because it brings me pleasure to serve them and through serving them serve God.

My good choices don't come about because of fear, but some of my bad choices do. I sent my son to school for three years and ran him around to therapy and worked hard to ensure he was "normal." In my heart I knew he would be better off growing up more slowly and maturing slowly into the man he'll become. Fear made me push him with an exhausting schedule. I made him spend 6-8 hours a day either in school or working on homework when he was a kindergardener. The busy work (neatly completed) was not worth the toll that particular action took on the heart of my little boy. He had the best homework completion rate in his class... because we spent several hours a day on homework and school concepts... and I sent him to school. He achieved in school... but he's achieved out of school too and with less damage to his heart and mind.

When we stop and think about what really, truly pleases us it is the good and wholesome that wins out 99% of the time. If we lead "delight driven" lives... truly delight driven, not rebellious or counter culture just to be different, we'll probably make better lives for ourselves and our children.

Nature vs. Nurture

A few years back we had a buck (male rabbit type buck) that just wasn't interested in breeding... the does. One of our friends had a ram ... not interested in ewes. One of my best friends from college... tried dating women. He tried being attracted to women. He went through Hell on Earth because his faith told him that it was morally wrong to be attracted to men... even though God himself designed the whole being that was my friend... even the part of him that could not find women attractive.

Think about this for a minute- if you're a woman imagine being attracted to another woman (if you're a man imagine being attracted to a man). I don't know about you but once I think about dating women I suddenly feel much closer to gay men. Really, would you want to date a woman? Ooh Ick!!! The hormones, the hair, the icky drippy female stuff... none of that is something I want to see going on with someone I date (and eventually marry).

What if society told me I had to date women? What if it was actually considered sinful for me to lust after (and act upon) an attraction to men? What if I found my soul mate (my husband) and couldn't marry him? What if all the wonder of having and cherishing a spouse was forbidden to me unless I married a woman? What if the only value society placed on me was whether or not I conformed to what was normal?

Heterosexuality is natural. It's also normal. Humans would eventually cease to exist (or become exceedingly rare) if heterosexuality was not the norm. Homosexuality is also natural. It occurs in many species in nature (hence the designation natural). It is not normal (or there would be a lot fewer of us).

Accepting homosexuality without placing a value judgement (either positive or negative) on it does not threaten hetero relationships and values. I grew up with more than a few gay role models in my life. Somehow, despite the horrid influence of these (wonderful) people I grew up to desire men (Shameful, I know). I also grew up surrounded by examples of many different types of relationships and values. It wasn't the gay couples that I knew who cheated on their spouses, broke apart their families, got divorced, or generally exhibited poor behaviour towards their partner.

God made me as I am. Thank God I like men. Life is so much easier for me because I found my wonderful husband, had three terrific (sometimes terrible) children, and am free to build my family based on the morals and values I believe in. It's a lot easier for me to do that since my morals and values tend to be (usually) what "normal" society approves of.

Only one biologic function of mine ever brings about debate regarding morals and values... my ability to procreate. Some are for it, some against it ("Oh my goodness, haven't you heard about population control? Three kids is one more than it takes to replace yourself and your husband. The Earth is going to blow up if people have more than 1.3 children per couple. Do you know what it costs to raise a child today? How will you ever pay for college for 3 children?" and the other side, "You thwart God's will by using contraception. Each child is a gift from God. It's a sin to interfere in God's plan by purposefully limiting the number of children you carry...").

Is marriage really about creating and raising children? My marriage certainly is. That doesn't mean that God's plan for marriage only includes people capable of having children together. If there are seven sacred covenants and marriage is one of them... did God purposely withhold that covenant from a large segment of the population by creating them either sterile or homosexual?

Most "Christians" who decry homosexuality use biblical references from the Old Testement to back up their beliefs. The Old Testement also tells us it is forbidden for women to go outside without hats and for men to pray while wearing hats. It tells us that eating the meat of cloven hoofed animals is verboten (mmm....bacon). One of the Ten Commandments (yep, the big 10) tells us it is forbidden to "covet your neighbor's house, wife, manservant, maidservant, ox, donkey, or anything that belongs to your neighbor" (Ex 20:17). No where in "The Giving of the Law" section do I see anything about falling in love with someone of the same sex. In Leviticus there is reference to (Lev. 18:22) to God's decree not to have sex with a man as you would a woman. The same chapter also tells you not to have sex with relatives, animals,... or during a woman's unclean time of the month (Drat! I'm going to hell!).

Leviticus 19:18 tells us, "Do not seek revenge or bear a grudge against one of your people, but love your neighbor as yourself. Do not mate different kinds of animals. Do not plant your field with two kinds of seeds. Do not wear clothing woven of two kinds of material." I am so going to hell. My favorite sweater- wool, silk blend. My favorite sheets- polyester, cotton blend. I am damned.

Except-

The New Testement, Mark 16:15

"He said to them, "Go into all the world and preach the good news to all creation. Whoever believes and is baptized will be saved."

We can't earn our way into heaven or else Jesus wouldn't have come to die for our sins. The coming of Christ reset the parameters. If that's not true for all the laws of the Old Testement then we all are lost. Who among us can truthfully say they've followed all the mandates and strictures of Old Testement law? Please, if you're using the church and Bible as an arguement against same sex marriage read Exodus and Leviticus. Even if you've already read those chapters- return and read them again. Do you measure up? Can you condemn another person for falling away from Lev. 18:22 when you probably aren't in compliance with Lev. 19:18?

(Horrible heretic thought) Is it possible that portions of the Bible reflect the atmosphere of that historic time period at least as much as they convey God's wishes and demands? Could the document have survived this long without some "corrections" and "revisions" affecting (and effecting) the minutia of the message while preserving the overall truth of the message? Why would God create someoneone way and then damn them for that anomaly of being?

Party Season

Our 4-H Christmas party was last night. For some reason it was decided we would meet to sing carols at the Nampa Care Center at 5:30. Meeting this early meant I had to take the little kids with us (darn it!). Most families with little kids skipped the caroling and just went to the party. We weren't that cowardly. We went caroling.

I got lost trying to find the Care Center. In fact we drove most of the way to the lake before I turned around (purely because I realized the NAMPA Care Center would not be found in Caldwell- which is where we were heading). Arriving 15 minutes late was awkward enough. When we entered the room where the rest of the kids were singing an elderly lady saw my small children and shouted, "I want some of that!" There's nothing like making an entrance.

Our club is very large (around 70 members) so it was suprising that there were only about 15 people singing last night. Of those 15 about 5 were grown-ups. My children were by far the youngest there. Of course this did make it much easier to keep track of them- since the teen girls really like to pair up with small boys. One of the mom's brought great big jingle bells and offered the boys each a bell. They walked up and down the halls with the carolers singing (caterwauling) and shaking those bells. If you have any friends or relatives at the Nampa Care Center I offer my sincere apologies.

For the first time ever we were the first people to arrive at the school for our 4-H meeting. It should be recorded somewhere in the history books because it will not likely occur again. I'm not sure how we made it there so quickly- except that we did live by the Care Center once upon a time and perhaps we were aware of a more direct route to the school (although that kinda makes getting lost earlier in the evening even more embarrasing).

There was a brief business meeting before we get to the true business of the evening (namely opening presents and ingesting large quantities of cookies and milk). During the meeting I had to take the balls Sam and Jake were playing with because they kept running around throwing them. It wouldn't have been so bad except the gym floor has a nice hollow sound and the room echoes. It really helped the noise level when I regained custody of the balls and Jake started shouting, "My ball! My Ball!" I gently (and quietly) told him it was too noisy and he'd have to wait until after the meeting to get it back. He understood and quit trying to take the ball back or explain why it was his. Instead he sat between the other Cloverbud leader and me repeating (for at least 3 minutes), "I can't win. I just can't win. I can't win. I can't win. I just can't win..." He kept going until K'Anne finally looked at him and said, "I know just how you feel, some days I can't win either."

After our last cake decorating meeting I sent cake home with one family on some of our kitchen plates. That mom very nicely brought the clean plates to the meeting for me to bring home. While Jake and I were dealing with the ball situation Sam decided he should put his cookie on a plate. Of course the lovely Correlle plate shattered when it hit the gym floor. And of course it shattered while Tass was right in the middle of her gift exchange story (whenever the story says "left" pass left, "right" pass right).

People wonder why we're always squeaking in the door just as the meeting begins. This morning they've probably figured out it's because I don't mind being late if just Chris and I can go to the meeting. Alone.

On a bright note- there were extra gifts available for the gift exchange- so Claudia made sure my little ones got to participate. All (yes, every one) of my children managed somehow to end up with big (stockings full) bags of candy. We are blessed. Next year I'm going to finagle it so that someone else's small child goes home with a bag full of chocolate. Oh yes I am. Because it's the season for giving.

Life Is Good

I just haven't really had anything to blog about lately. It feels as if I should write something... just to keep in practice... but I usually like to write about whatever is bugging me or whatever very, very deep, random thought crossed my mind while baking bread or doing laundry... the well is dry. I have no random deep thoughts or rants today. Sorry to disappoint. Life Is Good.

This Thursday is our 4-H club Christmas party. We're meeting early at a care center here in Nampa to sing carols and then we'll all proceed to the school for our annual Christmas party and gift exchange. We're still debating what to take for Chris's $5 value gift. He's leaning towards beef jerky. I'm leaning towards making another little softie toy. The only thing really holding me back from the softie is that I keep imagining one of the teen boys getting it. It could be funny. Probably wouldn't be that fun for the boy though.

Perhaps if I could find an old tampon box or something to wrap it in the present could be even more fun. If only I knew someone who needed such things.... I think my last box was purchased sometime in 2000.... maybe earlier.... it came from Costco... the box is not in any shape to act as a present keeper. Life seems so normal now that I forget how many (many, many, many) months of my married life I spent pregnant or nursing. I haven't done the math lately but I bet the pregnant and nursing months still outnumber the non-pregnant, non-nursing months. What in the world will happen to my marriage when all the kids leave home? We've never had a time period in our life together that wasn't about raising our family (well, there were those three months when we were recovering from the wedding and moving...).

Sam's been taking puppies to visit his class each week. The kids like to see the puppies and it's fun to ask them how big they think the dogs will get. Last week I took Jazzmine into the school. She loved the attention but the kids flat out did not believe the puppies would be as big (or bigger) than Jazz. One of the teachers keeps looking longingly at the puppies. She almost took one of our last litter so I'm not sure whether to be hopeful she'll fall for one this time. At this point I'm not holding back a puppy for ANYONE unless money has already changed hands. There are still 9 puppies out there and it is time for them to move in with their new families. The first left yesterday, the second will leave tomorrow. Tomorrow I will place the ad to sell our babies. Jake was almost inconsolable last night when the puppy left. "No, no sell Zowie's puppies!!! Get Zowie's puppy back!!! No sell Zowie's puppies......" I'm not sure how sympathetic I can be. We can not (will not) keep 13 Labrador Retrievers. Do you know how much poop is produced by 13 Labrador Retrievers? (If you want the answer, email me... I can provide solid proof)

My goal for the new year is to learn how to do the link thing. I'd like to tell you to visit "Corporate Free Christmas" and you'd be able to click on the name and it would take you there. Instead I'll tell you to check out my blog list and find it on the left hand side of the page. Go visit. I think it's a lovely idea to make the holiday exclusively about the handmade, recycled, repurposed, and well thought out gifts. There will be no Wii's, no gadgets, no "most popular" toys in our home this season. The truth is... we're poor. The economy is not kind to construction businesses at this point in time. The truth also is that in tightening our belts we'll have to revisit the true meaning of the season and find ways to serve others rather than just spending some cash on them. Perhaps God's gift to us this season is an opportunity to grow in his love and reflect on the true gifts of the season without being blinded by the flash and glitter of fancy doo-dads we didn't even know we wanted until the ads came out.

So to sum up our week thus far: Life is Good.

I hope your life is Good as well! Happy Holidays!