Overheard at Wal-Mart

While standing still and checking items off my shopping the list the other day I happened to overhear an interesting conversation. No, I wasn't eavesdropping- because I wasn't intentionally listening. It was only later that I realized the full importance of what I'd overheard.

The speakers were both older males. They were conservatively dressed (no earrings or holes in their clothes). If I had to guess their religion I think it wouldn't be hard to accurately classify them. One of them was talking about a young family that he had recently visited. The wife was overwhelmed caring for her small children (apparently she had several) and her house. It was apparent to this man that the woman was overwhelmed because her house was a mess, her children had dirty faces, her lawn wasn't mowed, and the car had dirt on it too.

In response the the first man's concerns the second man responded by affirming that this family had been active in their church in the past, but currently did not regularly attend. The first man really wanted to gather ideas for how he could help this family. The second man told him that the best way to provide assistance was to emphasize how important church attendance was. He elaborated by stating that obviously the husband was not acting properly in his capacity as the religious head of his household. The wife was not performing her duties well because she was not as involved in church as she should be. If only she would spend more time praying and in service to her family- everything would look up.

This was about the time I finished updating my shopping list and moved on. I'm not sure what the concerned man who started the conversation said in reply. I hope he told the first man that this family would be better able to function (and come to church and devotion to God) if people could provide some sort of relief for the overwhelmed mother (and possibly her husband- I don't know his story at all). I hope both those men realized that young mothers (especially when dealing with more than one child under the age of five) actually require sleep before they can efficiently do anything. I also hope that the second man- the one who thought the family was having problems because they weren't attending church regularly enough- I hope that he has at some point had to perform all the functions of his day with one hand tied behind his back and one leg chained to a thirty pound rock that goes everywhere with him (including the bathroom). 

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.