It seems that the labels "conservative" and "liberal" are being thrown around a lot lately. One day I heard a young man at Wal-Mart ask his friend, "What does it mean to be conservative?" The first thought that popped into my head questioned his intelligence. Certainly we all know the definition of conservative and liberal, right-wing and left-wing. As the election season progresses I am forced to re-evaluate my beliefs about this subject.
Being a conservative means that a government of the people, by the people, and for the people believes that the people are intelligent enough, educated enough, and moral enough to govern their own actions. I think that true conservatives neither want, nor need, government intervention in most parts of their lives. I don't want the government to tell me how to live my life. I don't want the government to offer to improve my life. I don't want the government to step in and tell me which moral codes I need to meet. And I'm ok with the idea that if the government doesn't do those things for me, my neighbors might make different choices than I do. I'm ok with the possibility that I might create a mess that costs me everything. I'm ok without the government supplying me with a safety net to catch me when I fall.
I do think the function of government is to supply support for infrastructure (roads, bridges, and some technology). I think the national government is the perfect entity to coordinate a national defense. I think that there are a few offenses so heinous that there should be laws in place to prevent harm to innocents and provide recourse in the event someone commits those crimes. I do not think that most things short of murder and rape should be outlawed. I do think that the judicial branch of the government is incredibly important when it comes to interpreting laws and punishing criminals.
What I am opposed to is the belief that the government is responsible for the health and well-being of each citizen (and sometimes non-citizens). Medical decisions need to be left to doctors and their patients; the legislature should not be involved in any personal health decisions. Food choices should be left up to consumers; although I do believe that labeling laws are important. If the public is so stupid or irresponsible that they can't be trusted to make these choices for themselves then how in the world is a legislature composed of citizens from the same country going to do a better job of taking care of me than I do?
True conservatism is the belief that individuals bear responsibility for their own actions. Eastern philosophy has long held that the more laws you pass to regulate morality the less moral people become. When the people begin to rely on the government for everything they lose the ability to progress. America isn't losing her position in the world because we don't spend enough money on education. America's losing ranking because her people have forgotten that they are the government. Laws should be few and far between. Small differences of opinion require negotiation and tolerance. They do not require that a new law be written.
Whether the issue is running a business, educating our children, painting our houses, or defining a family - individuals need to decide how to proceed for themselves. Perceived harm vs. actual harm is a concept people need to revisit. Some people aren't nice, but if they're not evil (think rape, murder, burglary) then you just don't need to spend time with them. There are all sorts of ways to deal with adversity that don't involve the government at all.
Several years ago I was lucky enough to be with a group of women talking about homeschooling their children. My kids were still very young and I wasn't actually taking part in the discussion, but I am so glad that I did stay and listen. One of the mothers was talking about whether you need to make sure your homeschool is similar to what would be taught in a public school. Her argument was that while there are benchmarks we all need to meet, homeschool should not be like public school. It should be different and it should not be regulated by the government. Her reasoning- public schools are not producing a uniform, satisfactory product. Their benchmarks may be too low, and to bind yourself to them may keep you from achieving everything you should. "The government is not our saviour," was the end of her argument.
She is right. The government is not our saviour and to put all of our faith in it (when it's made up of people like us, whom we elect) is a recipe for disaster. Look at New Orleans. The government didn't get everyone out. There wasn't an adequate plan in place to cope with that magnitude of disaster. The conservative in me thinks that maybe, just maybe, individuals in the affected area should also be held accountable for how events played out during Hurricane Katrina.
So, to end my rambling post: Less is more. Remember the government truly is by the people, for the people and we are the people. The government is not our saviour.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Palin for Vice President
I grew up in a house where it was emphasized that not only were women equal to men- they were competitive with men. If a man could do a job then a woman could do it better. My mother was one of five women studying animal science at her university when she was an undergrad. One of five females in a large department taught only by men. She had a lot to prove. My adviser was also my father's adviser when he was an undergrad (or possibly the professor he worked under while obtaining his master's.. I get confused). Dr. Bull told me (also an animal science major) that there was a lot of competition in this field. There are not nearly as many jobs available as there are college freshmen majoring in animal science. He also told me that if you were the top of your field there would always be positions available to you. Mom never lacked for job offers (or higher education offers).
So, as I was listening to yesterdays news, and learning about McCain's choice of VP, my feelings were mixed. First, I'm thrilled to think there may be a woman in the White House. I'm even more thrilled to think that the woman elected may be an advocate of wise use of natural resources (vs. no use or overuse). It's a benefit even that this woman isn't a career politician. She's a real woman, like me. She's a business owner, a wife, and a mom. She's even the mom of a special needs kid. She is a lot like us (all the women in the 30- 40 year age bracket).
And therein lies my ambivalence. She's a mother of 5. One of them is less than a year old and has Down's Syndrome. When I think how much like the rest of us she is, I worry. I worry because her children will change so much while she's in office (if she's elected). I worry that the needs of a developmentally challenged toddler will be difficult to balance with the needs of a nation. I worry that her marriage will be strained by the demands of her job and her family. I worry about a host of issues that would affect me and my marriage if I were the woman running for office.
Is that fair? It did briefly cross my mind when I saw how young Obama's children are that he might be a little bit young to be President. However, I didn't have the myriad of concerns I feel when I think about Palin (Of course there's no way I'm voting for Obama either). I am disappointed in myself. Just because I choose to stay home with my children (and boy am I ever home with my children now) doesn't mean that other women need to do the same thing. I'm sure Palin has very good childcare (and probably more flexibility in her schedule than most working moms). I'm positive that she thought long and hard about the challenges running for public office would create for her family.
There's no reason to question her ability to balance family and work unless we're prepared to question Obama's ability to balance both as well. Why is it automatically assumed that women are the sex who need to accomodate everyone's needs? Isn't it possible that her husband could just as easily meet the children's needs while she's working as Michelle Obama can care for the Obama children? If I worked and my husband stayed home and cared for our lovely offspring would that make me less responsible as a mother? Would it make him less responsible as a husband? Heavy social prejudices raise questions in my own mind about how well this election will turn out. It should be interesting to see what the rest of the conservative moms have to say. Will it be possible for them to "forgive" this mother for being something that the rest of us don't even have the energy to aspire to? Or will the conservative women be able to embrace this woman, so like us and yet different, and really support her running for office?
So, as I was listening to yesterdays news, and learning about McCain's choice of VP, my feelings were mixed. First, I'm thrilled to think there may be a woman in the White House. I'm even more thrilled to think that the woman elected may be an advocate of wise use of natural resources (vs. no use or overuse). It's a benefit even that this woman isn't a career politician. She's a real woman, like me. She's a business owner, a wife, and a mom. She's even the mom of a special needs kid. She is a lot like us (all the women in the 30- 40 year age bracket).
And therein lies my ambivalence. She's a mother of 5. One of them is less than a year old and has Down's Syndrome. When I think how much like the rest of us she is, I worry. I worry because her children will change so much while she's in office (if she's elected). I worry that the needs of a developmentally challenged toddler will be difficult to balance with the needs of a nation. I worry that her marriage will be strained by the demands of her job and her family. I worry about a host of issues that would affect me and my marriage if I were the woman running for office.
Is that fair? It did briefly cross my mind when I saw how young Obama's children are that he might be a little bit young to be President. However, I didn't have the myriad of concerns I feel when I think about Palin (Of course there's no way I'm voting for Obama either). I am disappointed in myself. Just because I choose to stay home with my children (and boy am I ever home with my children now) doesn't mean that other women need to do the same thing. I'm sure Palin has very good childcare (and probably more flexibility in her schedule than most working moms). I'm positive that she thought long and hard about the challenges running for public office would create for her family.
There's no reason to question her ability to balance family and work unless we're prepared to question Obama's ability to balance both as well. Why is it automatically assumed that women are the sex who need to accomodate everyone's needs? Isn't it possible that her husband could just as easily meet the children's needs while she's working as Michelle Obama can care for the Obama children? If I worked and my husband stayed home and cared for our lovely offspring would that make me less responsible as a mother? Would it make him less responsible as a husband? Heavy social prejudices raise questions in my own mind about how well this election will turn out. It should be interesting to see what the rest of the conservative moms have to say. Will it be possible for them to "forgive" this mother for being something that the rest of us don't even have the energy to aspire to? Or will the conservative women be able to embrace this woman, so like us and yet different, and really support her running for office?
Thursday, August 28, 2008
What my mother didn't teach me
I spent all day today working on the house and fall cleaning. As I was discovering the joys of ammonia in a cleaning solution the recurring thought running through my mind was, why didn't my mother teach me how to clean house? Isn't that what mothers do? Teach their daughters how to keep house? Truly, who else do you learn these skills from? Everything I know about cleaning I learned from a college roomate, the mother of one of my 4-H kids, and our old next door neighbor.
In the years I've been a mother I've come to understand that there are two types of women, the stick mop women and the down on their knees scrubbing the floor type of women. The women in my family have always been the sponge and stick mop type of women. I never really understood the appeal of crawling around on your hands and knees while scrubbing the kitchen floor. Today (after meeting my new friend ammonia) I finally understand. It's really dirty down there. There's sticky stuff that resembles strawberry jam around the bottom of all the baseboards (and we have house cleaners come in every two weeks, I shudder to think what it would be like without them!!!). The table legs have deposits on them that resemble inkblots. Red Kool-Aid powder has coated everything (seriously, even on the plant shelves). I thought I was doing a fine job cleaning with my handy sponge mop, but I barely even touched the surface of the dirt. Why didn't my mom show me how to truly clean while I was a teenager and living at home?
Well, let me try to remember back.... hmm.... I remember Mom working a lot. She worked really physically hard every day at her job as a USDA, FSIS red meat inspector. We spent a lot of time doing the 4-H thing. Every Saturday morning we did the laundry, mopped the kitchen floor (with a sponge/stick mop), and vacuumed.
Hmmm.... maybe Mom taught me other important things. Cleaning's not the most fun thing I've ever learned and I sure wish I knew what I was doing before things got built up, but it's possible that the things Mom did teach me were more important and more relevant to our lives. She did teach me how to give shots (subcutaneous, intramuscular, and intrvaenous). She taught me how to turn transverse lambs so that we had one end or the other presenting for delivery instead of the back. She also taught me how to figure out which legs went with which triplet. She taught me how to divide perennials and how to start willow cuttings to make new trees. She taught me to saddle my own horse, and how to train a new horse to load in the trailer. She taught me everything I know about herding and handling critters, whether they're sheep, dogs, horses, or kids (the human variety as well as the goat variety). She taught me never to loose my cool during an emergency because that helps no one. She taught me that fences can be mended but trees won't survive a girdling (or to be precise, they won't survive if movement of water and nutrients through the phloem and xyleum is disrupted in a circle completely around the tree). She taught me that rainbows are light reflections through water drops and you see out of your eyes because of a complex arrangement of cones and reflectors (although I really wanted to know what the world would look like through someone else's eyes).
It is entirely possible that I am better off for having had to learn how to clean late in my life.
In the years I've been a mother I've come to understand that there are two types of women, the stick mop women and the down on their knees scrubbing the floor type of women. The women in my family have always been the sponge and stick mop type of women. I never really understood the appeal of crawling around on your hands and knees while scrubbing the kitchen floor. Today (after meeting my new friend ammonia) I finally understand. It's really dirty down there. There's sticky stuff that resembles strawberry jam around the bottom of all the baseboards (and we have house cleaners come in every two weeks, I shudder to think what it would be like without them!!!). The table legs have deposits on them that resemble inkblots. Red Kool-Aid powder has coated everything (seriously, even on the plant shelves). I thought I was doing a fine job cleaning with my handy sponge mop, but I barely even touched the surface of the dirt. Why didn't my mom show me how to truly clean while I was a teenager and living at home?
Well, let me try to remember back.... hmm.... I remember Mom working a lot. She worked really physically hard every day at her job as a USDA, FSIS red meat inspector. We spent a lot of time doing the 4-H thing. Every Saturday morning we did the laundry, mopped the kitchen floor (with a sponge/stick mop), and vacuumed.
Hmmm.... maybe Mom taught me other important things. Cleaning's not the most fun thing I've ever learned and I sure wish I knew what I was doing before things got built up, but it's possible that the things Mom did teach me were more important and more relevant to our lives. She did teach me how to give shots (subcutaneous, intramuscular, and intrvaenous). She taught me how to turn transverse lambs so that we had one end or the other presenting for delivery instead of the back. She also taught me how to figure out which legs went with which triplet. She taught me how to divide perennials and how to start willow cuttings to make new trees. She taught me to saddle my own horse, and how to train a new horse to load in the trailer. She taught me everything I know about herding and handling critters, whether they're sheep, dogs, horses, or kids (the human variety as well as the goat variety). She taught me never to loose my cool during an emergency because that helps no one. She taught me that fences can be mended but trees won't survive a girdling (or to be precise, they won't survive if movement of water and nutrients through the phloem and xyleum is disrupted in a circle completely around the tree). She taught me that rainbows are light reflections through water drops and you see out of your eyes because of a complex arrangement of cones and reflectors (although I really wanted to know what the world would look like through someone else's eyes).
It is entirely possible that I am better off for having had to learn how to clean late in my life.
This shouldn't be happening
Ok, I thought (and anticipated) that if we were homeschooling the virus train would pass by our house. It made sense last fall that when school started Chris would start bringing home cold after cold after cold... but we've only been schooling for a week or so now and at least two of our kids have colds. Nasty, low grade fever, coughing, dripping, keeping us up at night colds. How did this happen? I did not make a place in my lesson planner for colds. Hmmm.... that reminds me, I need to find my lesson planner. I'm sure there are lots of wise organized things in there that I need, but I haven't seen it since sometime before fair.
I tried to get Chris to take a sick day today (because I'd like to lounge about drinking coffee and reading smut novels) but he's all for pressing on despite the cold (darn it!). What does it say about me that my six year old has a better work ethic than I do? He's really doing well with his math, but you sure couldn't tell that yesterday when Sam's teacher came to visit. It's really nice, before school starts for the year the Parkview teachers and their assistants go to everybody's house and pass out information packets. Sam thought it was pretty cool to meet his teacher in his own house. He even tried to show her his favorite toys... except that every 30 seconds Chris would run screaming through the living room, shouting, "I don't have enough blocks!!!! AAAAAAA!!!!!" It would have been much funnier if this were not the first time we met Mrs. Wells.
Chris just came out on the patio to talk with me about quail. He's very excited about the idea of hatching some eggs and releasing the quail into our pasture. I'm pretty excited about it too. If only incubators didn't start at $150 (for the ones without the automatic turner). I was picturing doing the egg project sometime next spring, but I don't know if I can live with Chris that long before I strangle him, so... we may need to move forward faster on this adventure. Does anyone have an incubator they'd like to loan (or rent) us?
I tried to get Chris to take a sick day today (because I'd like to lounge about drinking coffee and reading smut novels) but he's all for pressing on despite the cold (darn it!). What does it say about me that my six year old has a better work ethic than I do? He's really doing well with his math, but you sure couldn't tell that yesterday when Sam's teacher came to visit. It's really nice, before school starts for the year the Parkview teachers and their assistants go to everybody's house and pass out information packets. Sam thought it was pretty cool to meet his teacher in his own house. He even tried to show her his favorite toys... except that every 30 seconds Chris would run screaming through the living room, shouting, "I don't have enough blocks!!!! AAAAAAA!!!!!" It would have been much funnier if this were not the first time we met Mrs. Wells.
Chris just came out on the patio to talk with me about quail. He's very excited about the idea of hatching some eggs and releasing the quail into our pasture. I'm pretty excited about it too. If only incubators didn't start at $150 (for the ones without the automatic turner). I was picturing doing the egg project sometime next spring, but I don't know if I can live with Chris that long before I strangle him, so... we may need to move forward faster on this adventure. Does anyone have an incubator they'd like to loan (or rent) us?
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
And so it goes
It's been a struggle trying to do any schoolwork in the mornings because we eat breakfast about 8:00 and Grandma won't eat until 10:00. This wouldn't be an issue except that she sees no problem with feeding all the kids a second breakfast and getting all the dishes dirty for the second time each morning. It wasn't so bad over summer vacation because I could clean the kitchen once she was finished and then start lunch (although there were days I did not want to spend my whole freaking day in the kitchen!!!!). Now that we're into school it's much more of a problem because 1.) I don't want to spend my whole morning cleaning, and 2.) we do need to get some school lessons in between bouts of stuffing our faces.
Today we conquered the problem (at least mostly)! I let the kids get a quick snack when they woke up (not until 7:30 this morning!). They ate fun stuff like grapes, string cheese, and granola bars. It was highly nutritious. Then, while the little boys were watching cartoons I pulled Chris aside and had him do his math problems. Amazingly the boy blew through them in no time at all. I think he's going to have a bit of an aptitude for math (certainly not a gift from me). We were done with snack and math before 9:30 (plus wake up and stare at the wall time). Then when Grandma was ready for breakfast I fed the whole family. There was only one set of dirty dishes.
After math we had free time while the kids watched cartoons, colored, acted like general PITAs, and played with the dogs. About 11:00 I broke out the Sing, Spell, Read & Write box. Sam immediately came in from the yard and pulled up a chair. So... Sam is now finished with the 1st lesson and is getting very good at singing the A to Z Phonics Song. Chris zipped right through all of that as well (I think we're doing quite a bit of review before we get to new material, but I don't want to miss anything crucial). They both did the name writing worksheet and colored the A a apple page. It's kind of funny that I never did worry about what Sam and Jake were going to be doing while Chris was doing school. Now it seems that Jake is going to play in the yard and come sing songs when he hears music playing. Sam is going to jump right in and do the lessons with Chris. Perhaps I should invite Sam to work on math with us tomorrow (we were sneaky this morning so that Jake wouldn't come and play with our blocks).
I promised Chris that we could paint after lunch today and he's been talking about it ever since. He's a bit irked because I told him we're finger painting and he thinks that's for kindergardeners. He also thinks that it's not fun to get his fingers dirty. So... I feel his pain. I think it will be good for him to paint with his fingers and get a bit dirty (in the garage, not the house). He keeps coming in while I'm typing to argue about it so I think he may not get to use a brush all week. It just doesn't pay to argue with your mother :-)
Today we conquered the problem (at least mostly)! I let the kids get a quick snack when they woke up (not until 7:30 this morning!). They ate fun stuff like grapes, string cheese, and granola bars. It was highly nutritious. Then, while the little boys were watching cartoons I pulled Chris aside and had him do his math problems. Amazingly the boy blew through them in no time at all. I think he's going to have a bit of an aptitude for math (certainly not a gift from me). We were done with snack and math before 9:30 (plus wake up and stare at the wall time). Then when Grandma was ready for breakfast I fed the whole family. There was only one set of dirty dishes.
After math we had free time while the kids watched cartoons, colored, acted like general PITAs, and played with the dogs. About 11:00 I broke out the Sing, Spell, Read & Write box. Sam immediately came in from the yard and pulled up a chair. So... Sam is now finished with the 1st lesson and is getting very good at singing the A to Z Phonics Song. Chris zipped right through all of that as well (I think we're doing quite a bit of review before we get to new material, but I don't want to miss anything crucial). They both did the name writing worksheet and colored the A a apple page. It's kind of funny that I never did worry about what Sam and Jake were going to be doing while Chris was doing school. Now it seems that Jake is going to play in the yard and come sing songs when he hears music playing. Sam is going to jump right in and do the lessons with Chris. Perhaps I should invite Sam to work on math with us tomorrow (we were sneaky this morning so that Jake wouldn't come and play with our blocks).
I promised Chris that we could paint after lunch today and he's been talking about it ever since. He's a bit irked because I told him we're finger painting and he thinks that's for kindergardeners. He also thinks that it's not fun to get his fingers dirty. So... I feel his pain. I think it will be good for him to paint with his fingers and get a bit dirty (in the garage, not the house). He keeps coming in while I'm typing to argue about it so I think he may not get to use a brush all week. It just doesn't pay to argue with your mother :-)
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Chris has a plan
Chris has a plan. Chris always has a plan. It's as if he never quits planning for any and every eventuality. His newest plan is that he will alternate market goats and market lambs. This plan came about because I told him that we don't do market goats in Canyon County even though he saw one at the fair in Owyhee County. It doesn't seem to matter to him that we don't have a market goat option at our fair... Dana told him that he could show market goats at the Western Idaho Fair... well... she actually said that there were some kids doing so (showing market goats) and Chris interepreted that to mean that HE could show goats there.
Keep in mind that Chris is at least one year away from showing any sort of market animal. He's only six years old. Cloverbuds (4-Hers between the ages of 5 and 8) can only show small animals that weigh less than half what the cloverbuds weigh (which means that a pygmy goat is pushing it for our kids). I'm not even sure that he completely understands that someone is going to eat his market animal. He may think that going to the packing plant is a fun trip where you will end up helping to wrap presents. I keep trying to talk to him about the issue and determine what he really knows but he tends to weave imaginary stories into whatever you're talking about. Pretty soon I'm not sure if he's chosen a new absurd story line or if he really believes what he's saying. If you can talk to him long enough you'll recognize the made up stories because they always involve a mountain lion... at some point... perhaps several days into the story line.
I blame Grandpa Anderson. He did this to us. He also tends to weave absurd story lines into seemingly normal conversation. Usually his give away is much earlier in the story than Chris's. Possibly I'm a bit to blame too. Maybe all the times he asked silly questions and I got bored answering him may have had an adverse effect on his developing mind. "Mom, why are the clouds different shaps? Mom, why is that pumpkin orange? Mom, why is that cookie cutter leaf shaped? Mom, why is cheese called cheese?" You get the idea... I didn't want to scar his little psyche by being mean or rude, but I couldn't take all the questions all the time. You can only give so many rational answers in any given day (I think they're rationed or something). There are only so many times your answer can be, "to make little boys ask questions," Eventually you too would have begun answering with things like, "Because the moon is round, because trees like to wear different hats, because asphalt stinks, because the little green men live under dandelions," and my personal favorite.... "because the fairies don't like it when the rain gets in their shoes." Keep in mind that the answer never had anything to do with the question asked.
So maybe the difficulty in directing his thoughts down any one straight and narrow path is a genetic thing. His reading teacher last year was concerned that he couldn't seem to stay focused on any one task for as long as she wanted him to be attentive. I could tell that the conversation was headed towards talk of attention deficit disorder until his kindergarden teacher added her two cents. She had noticed that his attention was quite intense when you were doing what he wanted to do. When doing something he wasn't interested in... his mind was all over the place. The reading teacher also thought it was worth mentioning that he seemed to be all over the place (mentally). The child switches topics from one sentence the next. He doesn't prepare the listener by letting them know he's switching topics. She seemed very concerned. I can't imagine where he could have picked up any of these habits....
Keep in mind that Chris is at least one year away from showing any sort of market animal. He's only six years old. Cloverbuds (4-Hers between the ages of 5 and 8) can only show small animals that weigh less than half what the cloverbuds weigh (which means that a pygmy goat is pushing it for our kids). I'm not even sure that he completely understands that someone is going to eat his market animal. He may think that going to the packing plant is a fun trip where you will end up helping to wrap presents. I keep trying to talk to him about the issue and determine what he really knows but he tends to weave imaginary stories into whatever you're talking about. Pretty soon I'm not sure if he's chosen a new absurd story line or if he really believes what he's saying. If you can talk to him long enough you'll recognize the made up stories because they always involve a mountain lion... at some point... perhaps several days into the story line.
I blame Grandpa Anderson. He did this to us. He also tends to weave absurd story lines into seemingly normal conversation. Usually his give away is much earlier in the story than Chris's. Possibly I'm a bit to blame too. Maybe all the times he asked silly questions and I got bored answering him may have had an adverse effect on his developing mind. "Mom, why are the clouds different shaps? Mom, why is that pumpkin orange? Mom, why is that cookie cutter leaf shaped? Mom, why is cheese called cheese?" You get the idea... I didn't want to scar his little psyche by being mean or rude, but I couldn't take all the questions all the time. You can only give so many rational answers in any given day (I think they're rationed or something). There are only so many times your answer can be, "to make little boys ask questions," Eventually you too would have begun answering with things like, "Because the moon is round, because trees like to wear different hats, because asphalt stinks, because the little green men live under dandelions," and my personal favorite.... "because the fairies don't like it when the rain gets in their shoes." Keep in mind that the answer never had anything to do with the question asked.
So maybe the difficulty in directing his thoughts down any one straight and narrow path is a genetic thing. His reading teacher last year was concerned that he couldn't seem to stay focused on any one task for as long as she wanted him to be attentive. I could tell that the conversation was headed towards talk of attention deficit disorder until his kindergarden teacher added her two cents. She had noticed that his attention was quite intense when you were doing what he wanted to do. When doing something he wasn't interested in... his mind was all over the place. The reading teacher also thought it was worth mentioning that he seemed to be all over the place (mentally). The child switches topics from one sentence the next. He doesn't prepare the listener by letting them know he's switching topics. She seemed very concerned. I can't imagine where he could have picked up any of these habits....
Friday, August 22, 2008
God is in the bread
Sometime during the month of December last year I gave up buying bread at the grocery store. It wasn't that I was dissatisfied with store bought bread or anything... I looked at my grocery reciept and added up my bread purchases. They totaled somewhere around $60... for 6 people to eat for a month. That seemed a bit expensive to me. Adam Smith, the father of economics, was a Scot. My Grandmother Canfield (who lives with me) is a proud descendent of Clan Dunlop. I think it's something in the blood. We just can't help nickel and diming everything. So at any rate, that seemed like too much money to blow on something as basic as bread and my bread baking saga was begun.
In February my resolve was starting to weaken... maybe the time spent baking is worth more than $60? So.... I made a new resolution and gave up buying bread for all of Lent. All 40 days of Lent. And now the saga had religious overtones (and undertones) and I started thinking as I was baking (and kneading, and mixing). And I realized that there is a simple truth our grandmothers and great-grandmothers knew... God is in the bread.
Everything you ever need to know about God is present, visible, quantifiable, and easy to understand. The flour alone is flat, it lacks life. Without yeast, oil and heat, the flour is nothing more than flour. It has no greater purpose. With the addition of yeast the flour expands... fementaion begins and something wonderful is in the making. Oil makes the dough pliable and pleasant to handle. Heat brings the whole project to completion.
Alone we are like the flour, there's really not much to us. With God we are on our way to becoming something wonderful. Jesus is the oil... He died in order to give us eternal life, He smoothed the path so that our way would be easier. The holy spirit is like the heat. It helps the yeast and the oil work to change us from flour to bread.
Bread is forgiving. If you let it rise too long, that's ok. Punch it down, reshape it and keep going. The end product may not be exactly what you were envisioning when you started, but it's still good. If your oven temperature isn't perfect, that's ok too. Bread can cook at lots of different temperatures... again, the end result may not be what you were expecting... but it will still be good.
When life gets stressful and hectic I sometimes feel that it would be better to just buy the darned bread (Amy's dad told me that if I have a good recipe for french bread I really needed to get out more). Who in this country makes all their own bread for goodness sake? I would not be telling the truth if I let you think I haven't bought any bread at all since last December... but I have bought fewer than 10 loaves since then. When I give up and buy the bread, strangely, life doesn't really get easier. I always think as I 'm buying it that not having to make bread will free up part of my day... but I couldn't tell you where those saved minutes go.
What I have learned from buying bread is that it allows me to live life at a faster pace. I've learned through the sacrifice of Lent (when I would NOT buy bread) that slower is often better. While baking I have to plan to take slow time during the day to mix, knead, and bake. I also tend to use that slow time to think about life, about my children, my husband, and my faith. If I don't take time to bake, I frequently don't take time to pray either. And that makes all the difference. Life just seems to be better when I bake. God is in the bread.
In February my resolve was starting to weaken... maybe the time spent baking is worth more than $60? So.... I made a new resolution and gave up buying bread for all of Lent. All 40 days of Lent. And now the saga had religious overtones (and undertones) and I started thinking as I was baking (and kneading, and mixing). And I realized that there is a simple truth our grandmothers and great-grandmothers knew... God is in the bread.
Everything you ever need to know about God is present, visible, quantifiable, and easy to understand. The flour alone is flat, it lacks life. Without yeast, oil and heat, the flour is nothing more than flour. It has no greater purpose. With the addition of yeast the flour expands... fementaion begins and something wonderful is in the making. Oil makes the dough pliable and pleasant to handle. Heat brings the whole project to completion.
Alone we are like the flour, there's really not much to us. With God we are on our way to becoming something wonderful. Jesus is the oil... He died in order to give us eternal life, He smoothed the path so that our way would be easier. The holy spirit is like the heat. It helps the yeast and the oil work to change us from flour to bread.
Bread is forgiving. If you let it rise too long, that's ok. Punch it down, reshape it and keep going. The end product may not be exactly what you were envisioning when you started, but it's still good. If your oven temperature isn't perfect, that's ok too. Bread can cook at lots of different temperatures... again, the end result may not be what you were expecting... but it will still be good.
When life gets stressful and hectic I sometimes feel that it would be better to just buy the darned bread (Amy's dad told me that if I have a good recipe for french bread I really needed to get out more). Who in this country makes all their own bread for goodness sake? I would not be telling the truth if I let you think I haven't bought any bread at all since last December... but I have bought fewer than 10 loaves since then. When I give up and buy the bread, strangely, life doesn't really get easier. I always think as I 'm buying it that not having to make bread will free up part of my day... but I couldn't tell you where those saved minutes go.
What I have learned from buying bread is that it allows me to live life at a faster pace. I've learned through the sacrifice of Lent (when I would NOT buy bread) that slower is often better. While baking I have to plan to take slow time during the day to mix, knead, and bake. I also tend to use that slow time to think about life, about my children, my husband, and my faith. If I don't take time to bake, I frequently don't take time to pray either. And that makes all the difference. Life just seems to be better when I bake. God is in the bread.
A day off...
Today I discovered something cool about homeschool. You can make up your own holidays. It's true, if you want to declare every Friday a holiday so that you can enjoy a three day weekend every week... you can! So, as principal, CEO, CFO, and Head of Human Resources... I declare a four day school week. Every week. Until I get bored with it.
You would not believe the fun filled and exciting things that can be accomplished with your free time once the four day school week is instituted. For instance, you could use that day to go to the fair, take a hike, explore a local museum, donate hours to charity and good works.... or you could spend the time working in the yard and cleaning house like we did today. It was great fun. Who knew that Murphy's oil soap would make my kitchen cabinets at least two shades lighter? I had no idea they had that much build up. It was sort of like washing a wall and finding the cement blocks were actually hand hewn granite. The wonder of it all still boggles my mind. Next week... the drapes get cleaned!!! Ooooh, the excitement of it all...
Tomorrow is the Anderson Family Reunion (or Picnic, I'm not sure which). We're all going to gather at the park in Meridian and do who knows what for who knows how long. It worries me a little... Dave was asked to bring "lots of water balloons." I don't think that bodes well for the more conservative people in our group (me). It's bound to be a great time and the food's always good when everybody brings potluck.
You would not believe the fun filled and exciting things that can be accomplished with your free time once the four day school week is instituted. For instance, you could use that day to go to the fair, take a hike, explore a local museum, donate hours to charity and good works.... or you could spend the time working in the yard and cleaning house like we did today. It was great fun. Who knew that Murphy's oil soap would make my kitchen cabinets at least two shades lighter? I had no idea they had that much build up. It was sort of like washing a wall and finding the cement blocks were actually hand hewn granite. The wonder of it all still boggles my mind. Next week... the drapes get cleaned!!! Ooooh, the excitement of it all...
Tomorrow is the Anderson Family Reunion (or Picnic, I'm not sure which). We're all going to gather at the park in Meridian and do who knows what for who knows how long. It worries me a little... Dave was asked to bring "lots of water balloons." I don't think that bodes well for the more conservative people in our group (me). It's bound to be a great time and the food's always good when everybody brings potluck.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Late night musings...
As you can probably tell, I have rediscovered my blog. It's an odd thing to have a blog just hanging out somewhere in cyberspace and never visiting it. For a while we didn't have the computer hooked up to a phone line ... it lives in a black hole on our patio where the phone signal doesn't like to go. Finally when I decided for sure we are going to homeschool we got satellite internet (which I love). Then it took me a few months to remember what kind of things I used to do when I had internet access. So here I am. Two years later.
Initially today I looked up the blog because Chris is so opposed to writing that it seemed like a good idea to practice some of what I'm preaching. Then I started reading everyone else's blogs and realized that while the computer's been disconnected I lost touch with a lot of people. Now it feels like I've fallen behind. Behind what, I'm not certain.
We're finishing fair season here in the Treasure Valley. The Western Idaho Fair will be finished this Saturday. I promised Chris we could go to the rabbit show, but today I remembered that there's an Anderson family reunion in Meridian on Saturday. Hmmm.... which is more important? Family reunion? Promise to a six year old? How do I convince him he'd rather spend time with his family? We all know that come Saturday morning our family will be in Meridian and not at the fair, but Chris is going to carry a grudge for a long time. Next spring he'll be talking about something and at some point I'll hear, "You remember when you said we could go to the rabbit show? You know, the one at the Bestern Idaho Fair? And then you wouldn't go to the fair..."
Parenting is hard. Some times you have to change the plan midway through whatever is going on. I know that consistency is important and we certainly try to be consistent. Some days it's harder than others. I have such a fear of school this year. This is unlike anything we've ever done before, and yet it's supposed to be so much like everything that's gone before. It's a strange and uncomfortable paradox. What if my son doesn't learn well from me? What if I forget to teach him something important that six year olds NEED to know? What if I strangle him because he won't SIT DOWN and complete his handwriting homework? What if I think he's gifted and truly he's struggling and falling behind? What if the clean laundry becomes dislodged during an earthquake and we're all buried beneath the clean socks that don't have mates?
Initially today I looked up the blog because Chris is so opposed to writing that it seemed like a good idea to practice some of what I'm preaching. Then I started reading everyone else's blogs and realized that while the computer's been disconnected I lost touch with a lot of people. Now it feels like I've fallen behind. Behind what, I'm not certain.
We're finishing fair season here in the Treasure Valley. The Western Idaho Fair will be finished this Saturday. I promised Chris we could go to the rabbit show, but today I remembered that there's an Anderson family reunion in Meridian on Saturday. Hmmm.... which is more important? Family reunion? Promise to a six year old? How do I convince him he'd rather spend time with his family? We all know that come Saturday morning our family will be in Meridian and not at the fair, but Chris is going to carry a grudge for a long time. Next spring he'll be talking about something and at some point I'll hear, "You remember when you said we could go to the rabbit show? You know, the one at the Bestern Idaho Fair? And then you wouldn't go to the fair..."
Parenting is hard. Some times you have to change the plan midway through whatever is going on. I know that consistency is important and we certainly try to be consistent. Some days it's harder than others. I have such a fear of school this year. This is unlike anything we've ever done before, and yet it's supposed to be so much like everything that's gone before. It's a strange and uncomfortable paradox. What if my son doesn't learn well from me? What if I forget to teach him something important that six year olds NEED to know? What if I strangle him because he won't SIT DOWN and complete his handwriting homework? What if I think he's gifted and truly he's struggling and falling behind? What if the clean laundry becomes dislodged during an earthquake and we're all buried beneath the clean socks that don't have mates?
A few pictures to update my neglected blog...
The top picture is Jake in the puppy pool this spring (more coming in October!), the middle picture is my very sexy husband, Dave, who truly was posing for the camera (I can't get him to take a serious picture), and the bottom picture of all three boys taken late this spring (they're all quite different now!).
Our Journey Begins...
Yesterday we began our homeschooling adventure. It was a few days earlier than I had planned to start school. Sam's preschool begins September 2nd and I thought it would be nice and neat if Chris started school the same day. However, the school bus drove past our house yesterday morning and it seems school is in session ... everywhere.
Handwriting practice was our first challenge of the day. How do you spell Anderson when you are a six year old boy with the attention span of a gnat? Really, are the "r" and "s" truly necessary? Anderon would be a nice last name wouldn't it? Failing to recieve approval for that surname it was suggested that perhaps we'd rather be Andeeson's instead. Today we finally have all the letters in all the right places. Chris thinks we should do all our writing on the computer so he doesn't have to use his pencil and think about how to hold it. Can I send him back to public school yet? It's only their second day.... he can't have missed too much.
Reading and math are going well. I really like the Math U See curriculum. It's so very logical and if you don't get it when you write the problem you'll figure it out by the time you've built the problem using the blocks. Very logical, very easy. The little boys like the reading raceway. They keep trying to drive the little cling cars on the track instead of doing the work to advance your vehicle to the next space. Chris gets a little upset at them, but for the most part it's a good time for everybody.
It's a little weird to break for lunch and then take the time to cook, clean up, and do a little grocery shopping in the middle of the school day. Chris likes to come back out before dinner (we're using our enclosed patio as a school room, it's also my sewing room) and work on his special interest for the day (otherwise known as his current obsession). Currently he's learing about the different states (because he's fixated on license plates at he moment). Luckily we got a good deal on a set of maps at Costco, so we have a nice large map of the United States.
We're still doing "school light" since I really didn't want to start until after Labor Day. I think it's a good thing Chris pushed me to start early since I've found a few kinks that we needed to work out. If my official start date had passed, the time taken away from lessons would have bothered me much more. We are spending a lot more time on the mechanics of school (do you know how hard it is to find the paper with a dotted line in the middle) than I had anticipated.
Handwriting practice was our first challenge of the day. How do you spell Anderson when you are a six year old boy with the attention span of a gnat? Really, are the "r" and "s" truly necessary? Anderon would be a nice last name wouldn't it? Failing to recieve approval for that surname it was suggested that perhaps we'd rather be Andeeson's instead. Today we finally have all the letters in all the right places. Chris thinks we should do all our writing on the computer so he doesn't have to use his pencil and think about how to hold it. Can I send him back to public school yet? It's only their second day.... he can't have missed too much.
Reading and math are going well. I really like the Math U See curriculum. It's so very logical and if you don't get it when you write the problem you'll figure it out by the time you've built the problem using the blocks. Very logical, very easy. The little boys like the reading raceway. They keep trying to drive the little cling cars on the track instead of doing the work to advance your vehicle to the next space. Chris gets a little upset at them, but for the most part it's a good time for everybody.
It's a little weird to break for lunch and then take the time to cook, clean up, and do a little grocery shopping in the middle of the school day. Chris likes to come back out before dinner (we're using our enclosed patio as a school room, it's also my sewing room) and work on his special interest for the day (otherwise known as his current obsession). Currently he's learing about the different states (because he's fixated on license plates at he moment). Luckily we got a good deal on a set of maps at Costco, so we have a nice large map of the United States.
We're still doing "school light" since I really didn't want to start until after Labor Day. I think it's a good thing Chris pushed me to start early since I've found a few kinks that we needed to work out. If my official start date had passed, the time taken away from lessons would have bothered me much more. We are spending a lot more time on the mechanics of school (do you know how hard it is to find the paper with a dotted line in the middle) than I had anticipated.
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
The Family Quilt
Any quilter will tell you that quilts are most beautiful when a variety of fabrics are pieced together. To the inexperienced eye some of the fabrics may seem boring or plain, others loud and too bright, some downright homely. It may not be readily apparent how such disparate fabrics will ever come together. When joined by loving hands the whole exceeds the sum of the parts.
Families, like quilts, are curious entities. We are born into one family, marry into another, and adopt a few special people along the way. The interesting thing about our many connections is the way all the individuals when joined together form one cohesive unit regardless of race, religion, and like or dislike of chocolate.
We come together to celebrate and to grieve and occasionally just to BBQ. Like threads interwoven families become stronger as joy and trials bind us together. Bonds begun in love strengthen as blood ties are formed by the babies added to our quilt.
Although the individual fabrics are diverse and may seem to clash when viewed independently they all contribute to the work of art that is the complete quilt. Differences when paired with compassion and the ability to appreciate our unique design make the quilt a rich, colorful comfort.
Our family loves us when we are sunshiny and happy or sick and cantankerous. We accept each other and understand that the strength of our family, just like the beauty of the quilt comes from our differences. A quilt made from just one print or color lacks the depth and interest of one pieced from many different fabrics.
Friendships are conditional. We can choose to discontinue an association if things become difficult. Our families may have upsets. Sometimes the seams joining us may pull, but love completes our quilt, running through each square, overlapping our seams, joining the many fabrics, embellishing our family quilt and forming eternal bonds regardless of our differences and delighting in the beautiful masterpiece we form.
Families, like quilts, are curious entities. We are born into one family, marry into another, and adopt a few special people along the way. The interesting thing about our many connections is the way all the individuals when joined together form one cohesive unit regardless of race, religion, and like or dislike of chocolate.
We come together to celebrate and to grieve and occasionally just to BBQ. Like threads interwoven families become stronger as joy and trials bind us together. Bonds begun in love strengthen as blood ties are formed by the babies added to our quilt.
Although the individual fabrics are diverse and may seem to clash when viewed independently they all contribute to the work of art that is the complete quilt. Differences when paired with compassion and the ability to appreciate our unique design make the quilt a rich, colorful comfort.
Our family loves us when we are sunshiny and happy or sick and cantankerous. We accept each other and understand that the strength of our family, just like the beauty of the quilt comes from our differences. A quilt made from just one print or color lacks the depth and interest of one pieced from many different fabrics.
Friendships are conditional. We can choose to discontinue an association if things become difficult. Our families may have upsets. Sometimes the seams joining us may pull, but love completes our quilt, running through each square, overlapping our seams, joining the many fabrics, embellishing our family quilt and forming eternal bonds regardless of our differences and delighting in the beautiful masterpiece we form.
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
Fall Memories
The brakes in our van have been making a squealing noise and if you have to brake suddenly the whole vehicle shudders and drags towards the right. It's a little bit scary. Turns out it was a warped rotor head (or some such thing). The doo-dad wasn't under warranty but the kind salesman said, "since you spent so much money last time, we'll comp this for you." Thank heavens for nice salesmen who remember our $963 purchases from last spring. I'm sure it was in his computer, but he was just so darned nice that I've convinced myself he was just being a helpful guy. To top it all off, the kids were pretty well behaved while we waited for the work to be done. Sam tried once to crawl through the line of tires displayed in the middle of the showroom floor, but I took his water gun away from him, and tapped on his rear, and he was good for the rest of the hour we waited. People actually came in and smiled at my children instead of looking pityingly at us. It's a first. Usually they make comments like, "Oh my, you are busy aren't you?" But today they just commented on what nice boys they were. I'm sure tomorrow we're in for some really strange occurance while out in public, but for today I'm just pleased with all 3 boys. This afternoon we went to the little farm on the corner of Lake Lowell and Middleton roads. A couple of my friends decided we had to go to a pumpkin patch in order to purchase our Halloween pumpkins and let the kids have that whole experience. Luckily I talked the mother of the 1 1/2 year old little girl out of having the kids all dress in their costumes to choose pumpkins. I can only imagine how much extra time it would have taken to find all the doctor's instruments and fireman's accessories for Chris and Sam. Perhaps I'd like the idea of dressing up a little more if my kids didn't live in their dress up clothes at home 4 days out of 7 anyway. Chris and Sam loved getting to choose pumpkins and as a bonus we also bought a couple varieties of squash and a whole box of Honeycrisp apples. Actually, we bought 5 pounds of apples. After everyone was seated in the van, and the seat belts buckled, and Chris and Sam were eating their second apple... we didn't have many apples left. So, I bought a box. We could always use more fruit in our diets. I think we've all eaten about 4 apples each this evening. The apples only weigh about 1/2 pound a piece. I'm sure that must be good for us. This evening's final observation: We have a ton of some sort of garden or crab spider. They're really neat orangish/pinkish/beigeish spiders that are about the size of a kumquat. They have two horned ridges on their abdomens that are a darker brown color and brown rings around the joints in their legs. They are very active at night and seem to love our Linden tree. We have a few with egg sacs along the edge of the roof. The egg sacks are the same odd color as the spiders. In the late evening they are always busy spinning their webs and seem to do a booming business catching flies and moths. By morning the webs are mostly gone, only a small bit right next to the spider remains. I love watching these spiders. They're nice normal spiders who stay in their webs and don't go galivanting about on the floor of the house scaring nice people. I hope they eat all the Tegenerias spiders lurking about the place.
Sunday, October 15, 2006
A small rant about religion...or a statement of belief
On Friday while I was getting ready for Jake's party a car pulled into our driveway. Chris and I were taking a play break outside while Sam and Jake fell asleep in their room. An older couple, very nicely dressed, got out of the car. I thought they were probably headed somewhere and needed directions around all the road construction. No, they were looking for my husband. They were from the LDS Church. They were very disapproving since the information they had been given listed only Dave. They were even more disapproving when I explained that I was not a member (and happy that way). The couple was very polite, nothing they did or said was offensive or rude and yet I still felt vaguely offended. Dave is LDS. I don't have a problem with that. Thank goodness I don't have a problem with that because marrying somebody and thinking you're going to change anything about them is pretty much a sure way of having an unhappy marriage. Our oldest son attends church with his grandmother on occasion. He probably attends more Sundays than he skips. I don't have a problem with that either. Chris likes primary. He makes friends there and learns many things, among them lessons about the LDS religion. The portion of Chris's family that attends church regularly is LDS. These would be the people who care most about what religious path he chooses later on. I think it would be a disservice to him to keep him away from the faith of his father and his father's family. This religion is part of his heritage. Of course my faith, and the faith of my family is also part of his heritage and I will never choose to answer his questions about faith in a way that contradicts my own beliefs. I do however have a problem with people who are judgemental, close-minded and convinced there can be no truth other than the one they have embraced. The reason I get along with the Mormons in my family is because they don't tend to exhibit those characteristics. Why is it that so many of the people who seem to want to try and convert a person to one religion or another do seem to be judgemental, etc, etc. On a side bar, the Catholics in my father's family that I get along with are also the ones who don't exhibit the above characteristics. Part of the reason I am not any particular religion is that I have never found a religion that calls out to me, "this is right, this is truth, stay here." I am a Protestant. I do not believe you have to attend confession with any sort of church official to be worthy of communion. I don't believe you have to be baptized to enter heaven. I don't think only men or only women are capable of guiding religious ceremonies or receiving messages from God. In fact, I don't have a belief about whether God is male or female. I do believe that faith is a personal relationship you have with god. I think most of the ceremonies ordained or celebrated by different religions are unneccessary. I believe the only binding covenants to be the ones contracted with God and written in our hearts. I do not believe the church, any church, can make those covenants more or less binding. I do believe homosexuals are born, not made. I believe that there is nothing wrong with eating or drinking anything non-poisonous, so long as my consumption is in moderation. I believe that being reminded of sacrifices made on my behalf stregthens my faith. I believe it is a good idea to celebrate the Lenten season since it keeps the memory of sacrifice fresh in our minds. I believe that if I can share my worries, my concerns, my fears and my celebrations with God it lightens my spirit and refreshes me.
I am the mother of a 1 year old...
Jake turned 1 on Friday the 13th. We had a party. It was fun. It's a very lucky thing Jake is probably our last baby because my energy levels for 1st birthday parties is declining with every party we've hosted. Chris had a lovely dinosaur themed party when he turned one. I baked and decorated the dinosaur cake. I made invitations and mailed them. We had balloons and cooked dinner for our family and friends. It was an occasion. When Sam turned one I was already pregnant with Jake and feeling kind of tired. We had a BBQ in the yard. I baked a cake and frosted it with whipped cream frosting. It was decorated with summer berries. I debated for a few minutes whether or not I had to take the cake out of the pan in order to frost and serve it. I did not send out invitations. We had grilled salmon and the guests brought potluck for the rest of the meal. I think Grandma Anderson brought the birthday boy some balloons. For Jake's party on Friday I asked Grandma Anderson to bring canned chili heated in her crock pot (she also brought balloons). I made cheese dip. We opened a jar of salsa and some tortilla chips. I made cupcakes in ice cream cones. After glopping whipped cream frosting on them I rolled the tops in sprinkles and plopped a cherry on top. They looked good. The kids liked them. They were so easy. I can't believe I spent all those hours putting perfect stars all over Chris's dinosaur cake.
Saturday, August 26, 2006
The Importance of Men
Too often lately the importance of men in our lives seems to be marginalized. Yes, it is possible to support yourself and raise children without the presence of a husband, but it's not ideal. It's not ideal for you and it's not ideal for your children.
My father died when I was very young. My mother didn't have a choice when it came to being a single parent. She made good sound choices regarding her personal life before she planned on becoming a parent (yes, I was planned.... scary thought isn't it?). The hand Fate dealt her changed her options. Once my father was gone she had to think very carefully before choosing to introduce new men into my life.
I am thankful every day for my husband. It scares me sometimes to think how little control I have over whether he will live to be an old man and share my entire life with me. He is not home for very many of the boys' waking hours during the week since he leaves early every morning to work and support us in the grand manner we've become accustomed to (hard to convince little boys they don't want to eat). On the weekends it's hard to get him to leave the house. Sometimes this is a little frustrating since I'm here at home the entire flipping week. Wouldn't it be more fun to leave home and go somewhere? Anywhere? Maybe watch paint peel on the old downtown buildings? Seriously though, aren't I lucky he wants to spend as much of his time as he can with his family?
Sam is so upset these days if Dave leaves for work before Sam wakes up. How dare Daddy leave him all alone with this chopped liver person he calls Mommy? His little eyes just light up when Dave's home weekend mornings and all the kids pile into bed with us. Chris waits to tell me everything that happened at school until his dad gets home. It doesn't matter how many questions I ask, there's always something he's held back specially to tell Dad. Jake will lay across my lap while I'm trying to nurse him (after he's followed me around the house for 10 minutes making "feed me" noises) and watch his father (while biting me!) if Dave walks into the house before I'm finished nursing the little booger.
As for myself, I would go insane if I were all alone raising 3 boys without the love and support (and midnight baby wrangling) I get from my husband. I can't imagine why anyone would choose to become a single parent. What deluded soul would imagine that childrearing, so intensive for those of us in a strong relationship, would be such an easy thing to manage all alone and around full time employment. There wouldn't even be someone taking turns cooking dinner or picking children up from daycare. I understand the strong feeling of need that comes when you want a baby. I think children feel that same level of need when it comes having two parents.
My father died when I was very young. My mother didn't have a choice when it came to being a single parent. She made good sound choices regarding her personal life before she planned on becoming a parent (yes, I was planned.... scary thought isn't it?). The hand Fate dealt her changed her options. Once my father was gone she had to think very carefully before choosing to introduce new men into my life.
I am thankful every day for my husband. It scares me sometimes to think how little control I have over whether he will live to be an old man and share my entire life with me. He is not home for very many of the boys' waking hours during the week since he leaves early every morning to work and support us in the grand manner we've become accustomed to (hard to convince little boys they don't want to eat). On the weekends it's hard to get him to leave the house. Sometimes this is a little frustrating since I'm here at home the entire flipping week. Wouldn't it be more fun to leave home and go somewhere? Anywhere? Maybe watch paint peel on the old downtown buildings? Seriously though, aren't I lucky he wants to spend as much of his time as he can with his family?
Sam is so upset these days if Dave leaves for work before Sam wakes up. How dare Daddy leave him all alone with this chopped liver person he calls Mommy? His little eyes just light up when Dave's home weekend mornings and all the kids pile into bed with us. Chris waits to tell me everything that happened at school until his dad gets home. It doesn't matter how many questions I ask, there's always something he's held back specially to tell Dad. Jake will lay across my lap while I'm trying to nurse him (after he's followed me around the house for 10 minutes making "feed me" noises) and watch his father (while biting me!) if Dave walks into the house before I'm finished nursing the little booger.
As for myself, I would go insane if I were all alone raising 3 boys without the love and support (and midnight baby wrangling) I get from my husband. I can't imagine why anyone would choose to become a single parent. What deluded soul would imagine that childrearing, so intensive for those of us in a strong relationship, would be such an easy thing to manage all alone and around full time employment. There wouldn't even be someone taking turns cooking dinner or picking children up from daycare. I understand the strong feeling of need that comes when you want a baby. I think children feel that same level of need when it comes having two parents.
Thursday, August 24, 2006
School Days are Here Again
Today was Chris's first day back at preschool. He's been looking forward to getting back to school since about a week into summer vacation. Unfortunately, there are only two kids in his Monday Thursday class so far. His teacher assures us that as they complete screenings the class will fill out, but for now it's just the two of them. On the bright side this does mean lots of one on one time with his teacher and her aide.
Chris hounded me all morning to take his picture. That's him in the orange shirt with the backpack (you never would have guessed, would you?). Sam wanted in on the action as well. I picked the most "Sammish" of the photos to post. There are a couple where he's looking adorable and well behaved, but this one shows his true colors. Jake missed out on having his picture taken. I'll have to try and remember to get one tonight.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Goals and Ambitions
Somehow I seem to have forgotten who I am. Not forgotton in the sense that I don't remember facts but in that I don't frequently take the time to think about it. For several years now I have been someone's wife, someone's mother, someone's daughter, someone's granddaughter, someone's tenant, someone's 4-H leader... you get the idea. This is the manner in which I've been thinking of myself.
Another trap I've fallen into is defining myself by what I used to be: used to be a Loucks, used to be slender, used to be a good student, used to be a champion showman of sheep and rabbits, used to be a good hand with a horse, used to read everything not nailed down or splattered with bodily fluids I can't identify (either the fluid or what it came from).
I have set very few quatifiable goals the past few years. The few I set have been of the housecleaning sort and that is never a good way to define success. Laundry and dishes are a many headed Hydra. Just when they are all caught up, like the Hydra of legend, six new loads come into being where before, you would swear, there was just one.
Staying home with my children is important to me. Raising young children does not provide the opportunity for quantifiable analysis of your task. Sure, if they don't grow up to be serial killers and hold down employment, if they're not addicted to mind altering substances and don't abuse their families or dogs... you can consider yourself to have done an adequate job. If you've done a good job they will be productive, contributing members of society. They will raise another generation of children who will grow up to be productive, contributing members of society. My point is that our goals tend to be rather broad and hard to evaluate when it comes to childrearing.
I am a firefighter. All day, every day I put out small conflagurations. I cook. I clean. I kiss boo-boos. I hold hands. I read stories. I mediate disputes. I scoop puppy poop. The day to day minutia of our existence consumes about 25 hours of my day.
Being a student was great. I had a set number of classes per semester. My goal was to get an A (or C if we're talking math and chemistry). Career goals are always fun too. Parts of them are very quantifiable; money, hours, benifits (some not quantifiable like enjoyable work environment), location.
Being a mother/wife/daughter/granddaughter is more ambiguous. The ripples from the pebbles I throw today may not reach the edge of the pond in my lifetime. How do you evaluate that? What should my career goals be now? Is potty training a goal for me? Or for Sam? Does it count as my success once he's mastered it? Am I successful today because the four of us (three boys and me) survived the fair without losing more than a sippy cup? Did I miss my goal of teaching good nutrition by feeding them ice cream for lunch and pizza snacks out of the freezer (thawed, but not warm) for dinner? Did Chris helping himself to a snack out of the refigerator made of corn tortillas and spinach make that a goal attained despite the pizza snacks?
Another trap I've fallen into is defining myself by what I used to be: used to be a Loucks, used to be slender, used to be a good student, used to be a champion showman of sheep and rabbits, used to be a good hand with a horse, used to read everything not nailed down or splattered with bodily fluids I can't identify (either the fluid or what it came from).
I have set very few quatifiable goals the past few years. The few I set have been of the housecleaning sort and that is never a good way to define success. Laundry and dishes are a many headed Hydra. Just when they are all caught up, like the Hydra of legend, six new loads come into being where before, you would swear, there was just one.
Staying home with my children is important to me. Raising young children does not provide the opportunity for quantifiable analysis of your task. Sure, if they don't grow up to be serial killers and hold down employment, if they're not addicted to mind altering substances and don't abuse their families or dogs... you can consider yourself to have done an adequate job. If you've done a good job they will be productive, contributing members of society. They will raise another generation of children who will grow up to be productive, contributing members of society. My point is that our goals tend to be rather broad and hard to evaluate when it comes to childrearing.
I am a firefighter. All day, every day I put out small conflagurations. I cook. I clean. I kiss boo-boos. I hold hands. I read stories. I mediate disputes. I scoop puppy poop. The day to day minutia of our existence consumes about 25 hours of my day.
Being a student was great. I had a set number of classes per semester. My goal was to get an A (or C if we're talking math and chemistry). Career goals are always fun too. Parts of them are very quantifiable; money, hours, benifits (some not quantifiable like enjoyable work environment), location.
Being a mother/wife/daughter/granddaughter is more ambiguous. The ripples from the pebbles I throw today may not reach the edge of the pond in my lifetime. How do you evaluate that? What should my career goals be now? Is potty training a goal for me? Or for Sam? Does it count as my success once he's mastered it? Am I successful today because the four of us (three boys and me) survived the fair without losing more than a sippy cup? Did I miss my goal of teaching good nutrition by feeding them ice cream for lunch and pizza snacks out of the freezer (thawed, but not warm) for dinner? Did Chris helping himself to a snack out of the refigerator made of corn tortillas and spinach make that a goal attained despite the pizza snacks?
Friday, August 18, 2006
Do you ever wake up in the morning so excited you can hardly wait to jump out of bed? I vaguely remember days like that...a long time ago... before we had children... when we slept for more than 5 hours a night. I am the proud parent of three wonderful boys. Chris is 4, Sam is 2 (and very good at being 2), and Jake is 10 months old. I am always sleep deprived. When Sam was 6 months old I found out I was pregnant with Jake. The first thought that popped into my head was, "I'm never going to get a full night's sleep ever again," It's a good thing early morning is my favorite time of day because our day starts sometime between 5:30 and 6:30. Although I complain and moan and groan I can't imagine anything I'd rather be doing with my days.
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Jake camping in the living room
