Monday, October 26, 2009

The short list

Zach's soccer coach has a son a year older than Sydney. That should send up the warning flags right there.

I don't want to embarrass Sydney by sharing the story that spans the entire soccer season, so the only thing I will say is that soccer is now over and "Whew!"

Hours after our soccer party, Sydney made a vague comment about her hair being windblown after she took it down at the party. The wind blew like crazy, with plates, food, cups full of ice, and boxes of pizza all attempting to fly away. I asked why she took her hair down in all that wind; apparently a certain young man had never seen her with her hair down and wanted to see what she looked like.

...

...

Still speechless, right?

...

In his defense, he is a good kid whose parents have taught him how to treat others respectfully. He calls all the soccer moms "m'am" and during practice, loves to play soccer with the siblings from the team. Not just Sydney. They're always team captains since they're the oldest. Zach thinks he's great and loves to follow him around. His dad let Audrey be the assistant coach during warm ups and the referee during scrimmage so that she can be a part of the team. His mom is the team mom for the three teams that her kids play on and her husband coaches. From what I can tell, they are a close knit family.

I might consider putting him on the short list: one day when Sydney is in college, I will arrange for her to meet all of these boys I approve of and whose families we love. So far there are five boys on that list for Sydney. Ainsley has two and Audrey has three. It's a great plan to end up with my friends becoming family, right?

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

How can one girl be so lucky, or my life story

When I found out in the fall of 1994, that I could apply to Texas A&M without an essay under their Early Admissions policy, I sent in my application the next day. It happened to be the postmark deadline. My application wasn't even complete; I think I forgot to include my transcript or some other vital piece of paper. My school counselor used my story as an example for the rest of her career to teach the concept that you should always keep a copy of any important document you put in the mail. By the time my acceptance letter came in the mail, I had written so many scholarship application essays that I decided not to apply to anymore colleges. I was sick of writing essays and I figured I would be happy at A&M. It didn't matter that I had never visited A&M's campus and that I only owned Texas sweatshirts.

I went for a visit to Baylor and knew the minute I walked into the dorm that it wasn't for me. I was not the perpetually cute, well-dressed, adorable, peppy girl that goes to Baylor. The only other school I considered applying to was George Washington because I loved Washington DC. Between the distance from home and the essay, I skipped it.

Being the dork that I am, I read books in high school about how to write a business plan. I even came up with this business where you would come into the store and use a computer to look at pictures of the clothes that you wanted and tailor them to your body on the screen. Then you would order them and you would pick them up at the store later. If Al Gore created the Internet, can I get credit for inventing the online store back in 1994? Anyway, A&M accepted me into their business school.

That was fabulous until I decided near the end of my senior year in high school that I couldn't be a stay at home mom if I went into business. Also, I had heard how long the lines were for freshman business majors registering for classes at their orientation. By the time you got to pick your classes, none of the good classes were left. The dept. of Modern Languages, on the other hand, had no line. I switched majors to Spanish during my orientation so that I could get better classes. I intended to switch back over to business once I could register over the phone for the next semester. The rest is history.

Before my Freshman Orientation, though, I was awarded a scholarship. It turns out that for all of the essays I wrote, for all of the letters of recommendation that I searched for, and for all of the personal references I tracked down, I received a scholarship based on a three paragraph essay I wrote one afternoon. I couldn't believe the irony and I was amazed when I considered how great a writer I must have been to impress them in so few words. My friends looked at me differently when they learned the size of the scholarship. Only the brilliant people who went on to become doctors and engineers received these kinds of awards. This line of thinking is what my uncle Don refers to as the teenage brain-dead mentality.

I walked on air until I read the newspaper article about the recipients of this scholarship-two recipients were chosen from each high school in the city. I recognized a face in the full page spread of photos. And then another. Finally I counted thirteen people I knew. In that one instant I realized that I hadn't earned this scholarship at all. I wasn't as brilliant as I'd come to imagine myself and I wasn't the tremendous writer I'd fancied myself to be.

During the spring of my junior year, my school counselor called me out of class to tell me that she had chosen me as an alternate to attend the Houston Rotary Club's Camp Enterprise. It seems that my old friend Matthew Reynolds couldn't make it that weekend, so it would be my opportunity to go in his place.

My dad drove me to the meeting place for the camp bus; we almost didn't make it because we got pulled over for some toll tag issue. My dad finessed his way out of it. (Pause here to laugh if you know my dad and can imagine this scene.) I caught the bus and arrived at camp where all of the students were divided into teams.

It's been so many years that I only remember bits and pieces of this weekend. The entire point of the weekend was to learn about business and entrepreneurship. We attended lectures and listened to guest speakers. There was a competition between all of the teams. We had to start a business selling sprockets and decide as a group when to invest in R&D, in personnel, in equipment and facilities, marketing, and quality/quantity. At the end of the weekend, whichever team's business was the most successful was declared the winner. I remember contributing to the group, but mostly the incredibly intelligent, type A guys on the team came up with the plans. Our team won.

As I looked at the photos of the scholarship recipients in the newspaper that day, I found quite a few people from my Camp Enterprise team. It so happened that the Rotary Club was the organization that decided on the scholarship recipients for the Jesse H and Mary G Jones Endowment Fund. (This fund builds hospitals, funds scholarships, wings of convention centers, etc, in Houston.) My photo was on that page only because I was on the winning team at Camp Enterprise a year earlier. All things, as in grades and extra-curriculars, being equal, I could chalk my scholarship up to the classic line, "It's not what you know, but who you know, that makes a difference."

I went to A&M on this scholarship and met Neil, who happened to have a Chemistry lab with Matthew Reynolds at one time. We were able to get married because of my scholarship. The direction my entire life would take changed as a result of one weekend at camp. Or it is possible that my life was headed in this direction and the Lord knew that I needed that scholarship to get here. Either way, thanks, Matt, for being busy. And I am grateful to the Lord, in His infinite goodness, and across the vast expanse of creation, for being mindful of me.

My prize for winning the team competition was a $10 share of stock in an
up-and-coming company you now know well: Enron. Too bad I didn't sell it back in 1999.

Finally, people wonder what I've done with my education. Another reason I decided to have kids so early was to put off deciding what to be when I grew up. I had no idea when I was 22 what I wanted to do, but I knew that I would have a better idea when I was actually a grown up. Teaching was not for me, and those were the days before job sharing, working part-time, and telecommuting, so I thought business was out. After my job last year, I now know what I want to be when I grow-up, and I can't wait.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Twilight

The Twilight Series by Stephanie Meyer is one of my favorites. I wasn't as impressed by the acting in the first movie or the selection of most of the characters, but I'm hopeful for the second movie as the cast will have had time to improve their mad skills. There is just something about how well written the Harry Potter screenplays are or the caliber of acting compared to Twilight. And everyone knows that the books are always better. I will still go out to see New Moon next month while my kids are at school.

Until I read Twilight, I had never read a book about vampires. That's not usually my thing. In fact, the entire series had already been published by the time I read the first one. Then I was hooked and I read all four books in less than a week.

I might have said this before, but Edward, one of the main characters, is right up there with Mr Darcy. Bella is my least favorite character, which is unfortunate when you consider how many pages we spend listening to her point of view. Edward, of course, didn't look like I imagined him, but I'm just not a huge fan of Kristen what's-her-name. There is just something about her eyes that gets to me. It's this vacant look made worse by her ever-present scowl or her smile that never reaches her eyes. Or maybe it's just that she really does seem like Bella and I'm projecting. Either way, her eyes remind me of all of the kids we saw in Port Townsend, Washington.

A few years ago, Neil and I went to visit Port Townsend for a long weekend. It's a beautiful town across the Sound from Seattle. Unsurprisingly, the entire town is huge into organic food, organic living, veganism, the raw food movement, co-ops. We loved the irony of the Starbucks, McDonald's, and Kroger being relegated to one little street corner in the city's attempt to shun big business, childhood obesity, or capitalism. We live in America, and I'm all for someone's ability to live according to the dictates of their own conscience. And then I looked closely at the youth working in the restaurants or walking down the main street on a Friday night. Their eyes were so vacant, the choices they were making demonstrated the unrest in their hearts, and I wondered if their parents spent less time worrying about their co-ops and more time with their kids, would it make a difference. And then I noticed that there was a high school football game going on that evening. Looking at the parking lot I could tell that most of the town was there, so maybe those few kids who weren't at the football game were the exception. Maybe these kids needed a "team" to belong to.

I had a professor in college, Dr Timothy Mitchell, who wrote a book that he used to teach lectures about post-traumatic stress that came from transplanting an entire culture with a subsequent loss of individual and family identity, traditions, religion, art, and societal organization. I have to give him his props as the last time I tried to summarize his ideas for a class presentation, he reminded me that they were copyrighted.

Anyway, Dr Mitchell proposed that in any choice we make there is rarely a clearly defined good or bad choice. Sometimes the choices might both be good. Other times there are two shades of bad. Instead of looking at a choice like a pro/con list, it might be more appropriate to look at it as a continuum, he tells us. For example, a young man who doesn't have a father around could face the decision to join a gang. That's obviously a bad choice, but being isolated or lonely is worse, so he chooses the gang. Or he could choose to run away as that is better than a gang and better than being alone in a crowded house.

I'm not sure whether Dr Mitchell would translate that relativity to everyone in every situation, but I don't. There is always a better way, but I will allow that it can be difficult to see the forest for the trees. That is where mentors, or caring individuals at churches, schools, or community centers come in. Their perspective provides the opportunity to introduce a way to step out of that continuum. A means of looking for the needs underlying the decisions to find an alternate route to fill those needs.

Very often that alternate route is education. In that same example of the young man, learning about what his true interests are and how to make a living pursuing those interests could provide a means to better his life. Or it could be that he needs somewhere safe to belong, so community programs attempt to fill this void. Or a strong male role model who teaches him what it means to be a man. I understand the naivete portrayed by my illustration. I understand that it is rarely so simple in the real world to make the right choice, to do the right thing.

Consider the French resistance in World War II. The Nazis were invading France, the French government helped them round up the Jews, put the parents on one train and all of the children on another train with the promise that they would reunite the families in Germany. (The thought still makes me sick.) The lives of anyone caught assisting the Jews were destroyed. And yet, there were those that sacrificed to help the Jews. There were those who joined and even led the resistance to the greatest force of evil the world to that point had ever known. What did it take for the French Resistance to succeed? The assistance of the world's superpowers and individuals who were willing to sacrifice for what was right and true.

So, how do we teach our children to value the truth, to fight valiantly for what is right? Teaching children to recognize truth and what is right. Or a discussion of what is right and wrong in the world around us. It should go without saying that this dialogue needs to happen, but what other resources do we have? Other caring adults for sure. And, finally, art.

Reading about war, looking at photographs of war, listening to music and dramatic productions about war (read: Les Miserables) can teach the reality of war, the causes of war, the consequences of war, and the impact on humanity as easily as a history book listing facts. On the other hand, one of my English professors asked the class if we could learn to love by listening to a country love song. No one wanted to appear unsophisticated by answering "yes", but he was right. Reflect on what inspires you about your favorite love song.

This is why I love the Twilight Series, four books written for and about high school juniors. Stephanie Meyer writes about themes such as virtue, free will, sacrifice, love, family, marriage and children, friendship, the eternal nature of our soul, community. Yet her "lectures" are so well-written and unobtrusive that they don't jump off the page at you. Could there be a better way, or at least a more entertaining way, to remind a fifteen year old of what you've already taught them about virtue?

My only side note is that these books are being read by little girls all over the country. Sydney has read the first two books, but hasn't seen the movie. I keep telling her that when I can rent the movie and fast forward the one scene in it, she can see it. Somehow I haven't made time for it.

The book isn't graphic and neither is the movie, but I don't want something that Sydney barely recognized in print to transform into a mental picture. I catch grief from her all the time because many of her friends, even from church, have read all four books. But the last book is about getting married, having a honeymoon, having a baby, and having lots of sex. Although Meyer somehow avoids graphic descriptions, it still is just not right for a ten year old.

Right now I'm trying to figure out how I teach her not to go behind my back to read it just to fit in with her friends. Someone she knows did that, and I know it will cross her mind eventually. I'm trying to imagine how secretly reading the book, the consequences if she gets caught, the consequences if she doesn't get caught, and not fitting in all fit on that continuum and how I can get her to step outside of that.

Sunday, October 18, 2009

C is for Cookie and Computer

Ainsley dreads Fridays because that is when her class has computers. It is not uncommon for Ainsley to come home with tears in her eyes as she recounts the teacher's insensitive comments to the class. As a result, Ainsley now saves her "lucky jumper" for Friday. Whether it is to lend her courage or to overcome the bad computer class kharma, I haven't heard. I am not sure what makes the jumper lucky. I encouraged Ainsley to do something nice for the teacher as a peace offering. I also suggested that Ainsley visit the school counselor to discuss how this teacher makes her feel. (Again, I'm not sure what exactly a school counselor's official purpose is, but my girls love to visit their counselor.) Ainsley would only confide in her counselor after she promised Ainsley not to reveal to the computer teacher where the complaint came from.

During dinner tonight, Ainsley told me that she needs to take some cookies to a teacher at school tomorrow, or that she could substitute candy, if we were out of cookies. After a few more questions, I figured out that Ainsley had promised the computer teacher on Friday that she would bring Halloween sugar cookies for her on Monday. It figures that while I had forgotten my advice from back in August to do something nice for the teacher, Ainsley had only been waiting until we had sugar cookie dough in the freezer.

Between Audrey's cold and mine, I didn't go to the grocery store last week. As we always run out of the fun stuff in the pantry first, I didn't have any more exciting after-school snacks. I decided to throw together some sugar cookies when Zach had a little friend come over.

It's a Williams-Sonoma sugar cookie recipe, so the cookies are fine, but the icing is the ready made orange-tinted, vanilla-flavored kind that comes with sprinkles. You know the kind that requires a glass of water to make it go down. Obviously, I wasn't making these with adults in mind,and I didn't put sprinkles on the teacher's cookies, so I hope the teacher will decide that it's the thought that counts. We'll see if it makes a difference in computer class on Friday.

Sydney convinced me to give them each a sugar cookie for their lunch box tomorrow, but to put the icing in little baggies so that they could ice their own cookie. I can't decide if that makes me the coolest mom ever or the worst mom ever. At least I won't have to clean up Zach's mess when he's done. I guess I will be making cookies for the lunch custodian and for Zach's two teachers after this.

Saturday, October 17, 2009

Heartache

Today at Sydney's volleyball game a mother from the opposing team yelled at her daughter multiple times during the game. As if that wasn't bad enough, the mom told the rest of the parents in the bleachers that she was going to kill her when she got home. I couldn't tell if the little girl heard this comment, but let's hope not.

Watching nine and ten year olds play volleyball can be frustrating at times. I allow myself an occasional "Call the ball," but stick to clapping. For every serve, every hit, every mistake, every effort, every smile, every shrug. It's a lot of clapping, but maybe Sydney can tell the difference between the crowd goes wild applause when her serve return goes over the net and the encouragement applause when her serve hits the net or barely gets there. We've explained that this season of volleyball is the time to learn the rules and basics of volleyball. It's for having fun with her friends, to learn to work as a team, to learn how to call the ball.

I've mentioned "The Incredibles" theory that if everyone is special, no one is special, but I don't think that is the message I am communicating to Sydney. Giving encouragement is not the same as saying that Syd is a winner even though her serve went five feet. It tells her that trying hard, or making an effort, is a worthwhile endeavor. That she shouldn't be embarrassed because it is better than watching the ball drop on the floor next to you. (I don't clap when that happens.)

Prior to this sports season, the Army forced all parents of athletes to watch a video about the value of good sportsman ship and a parent's role in leading by example. Neil and I joked about the hour of our life we would never get back and how they could just tell the crowd not to be "that guy" and we would understand. I learned that a parent who pushes his view of winning at all costs onto their child is committing philosophical abuse. It was funny until I watched that little girl this morning. My heart still hurts.

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Pause

I've been sick with a cold recently, and I haven't felt like writing much. In addition, there are days when I just can't get excited enough about anything other than my kids or a good book to write about. Except the Noble Peace Prize!

Wow, I am still thinking of what to say about that one that hasn't already been said. I did find out that the Nobel Peace Prize for economics was given to a woman, an American, for the first time, and it was because she found out that public works areas, such as parks, are better cared for by the people who use them than by the federal government or even private companies. What an interesting concept. There is this thing, it's called stewardship. It's also called ownership. It's called gratitude, responsibility, volunteerism, selflessness, hardworking, ingenuity, cooperation: It's what makes America great.

Audrey and Zach love to count the cute tree frogs on our back window in Spanish. He wanted to stay home from school the other day because he was "sick...sick of school" He is learning to sing 5 Little Monkeys Jumping on the Bed, in Spanish, how to read the sounds "ma, me, mi, mo, mu" and to color inside the lines. He has homework now and actually sits down with me every day to do it happily.

Sydney misses her old friends and is running into problems with the girls in her class not wanting to include her in anything. The same happens at church. She is looking forward to her writing benchmark tomorrow because she enjoys writing stories. I am going to sign her up for basketball tomorrow, so that will be fun. She has greatly improved in Volleyball. and I am glad that her season lasts until Thanksgiving. It would be a shame to end the season next week now that things are starting to click for her team. (Zach's soccer ends next week as does Ainsley's tennis.) Some days I consider home schooling her, too, just to spare her the pain of mean classmates.

Ainsley likes to be loud and wonders if it is okay to be proud of who she is, even if it is loud. I said yes, except for the times when it isn't OK to be loud: church, in your mom's ear...She continues to be the star of her class, according to her, and has to have quiet lunch or do extra laps because everyone in her class, but herself, is bad. She surprises me by how outgoing she is. She is not afraid of what others think. Or if she is, I can't tell. I knew that her two year old penchant for knowing exactly what she wanted would pay off one day. Now she is content to like only the things that interest her, to be herself because who wouldn't love what she loves, as she has such great taste...

Zach has a navy sweater with a zipper that he won't wear because his friends tell him it is a girl's sweater. I think I told him to tell his friends to shut up, but Zach told me that's not a nice word. So maybe I told him to tell them that if his sweater is for a girl, then they are a girl.

Some days I am incredibly productive. Today, for example, I cleaned three bedrooms, changed all the sheets, vacuumed two rooms and the hallway, did 4 loads of laundry and put them all away, got out the kids' winter clothes, and took Audrey to her Cultural Expressions class. Other days, however, I feel like sitting on the chaise lounge with a good book and a Coke to drink. (BTW, my grandmother read the Dan Brown book and officially said I can keep drinking Coke. So Neil, you can blame her.) Is it because Neil is gone or is it because I can't remember how to live a normal, balanced life?

Describing last year as busy would be an understatement. When I went in for my physical last week, my blood pressure had dropped 30 points since May. Last year, I didn't have time every day to clean, except to straighten the downstairs for when Neil got home, so I'd mega clean on my one free day. Now that I have more free days than not, I still do all of my cleaning at once. Maybe it's just that if I'm going to spend the time cleaning, I'd like the room to be completely clean-not just one hot spot done in each room-and I can't do that in a few minutes per room. Until I figure out how to be a normal stay at home mom, how to act during the pause in between the morning and afternoon rush, how to be the angel of the house, half of my house will be spotless and the other half will be messy, waiting for me to be inspired to clean again.

Did you know that Virginia Woolf said that to be a writer, a woman must kill the angel of the house? Does writing a blog count? I'm all for it if somehow a maid will show up in her place. Or that elusive Army detail.


PS-Neil updated his blog yesterday with pictures and a few funny stories.
neilonthemoon.blogspot.com

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

International Walk to School Day

Did you know that today is International Walk to School Day? That works well in what they call "living communities" where there are, among other things, side walks, neighborhoods built around the school, etc. And also parents around to facilitate this. At Howard Hall, the event changed to "Walk at School Day" to accommodate the children that ride the bus and whose parents couldn't be there. There are only two small subdivisions that are required to walk/car-ride to school, and we live in one of them.

My kids walk home from school every day. They know that if it's pouring rain, I will pick them up. However, if it's only sprinkling, they are to use their umbrellas and rain coats to walk as far as the neighborhood cut-through, where I will be waiting for them. In the mornings, a good neighbor and her children ring our doorbell as they walk to school. If not for her, I would have to drive my kids to school every morning, or walk with them.

I don't like the idea of not knowing whether or not my kids made it to school. At Hardy Oak, they would call every absent child's home by 9am to verify the absence. I haven't ever received a phone call from the school attendance clerk here, so if my kids didn't show up to school, they could be in another state by the end of the school day. I shudder to think about it, so I avoid that worry at all costs.

We drove to school today, instead of walking, so that we wouldn't be too late for the event. Every person that walked a mile around their playground track would get free breakfast. The kids had a blast running and chatting with their buddies. One poor little small-fry started crying in front of me because his mom couldn't be there, so I took him to the PE coach to have his tears dried. As soon as the other kids got off the buses, they joined the party. I was amazed at the energy of these kids running so early in the morning.

By the time we finished walking and ate our bagel for breakfast, the tardy bell had rung. We were sitting with a friend of Zach's and mine in the cafeteria. My friend worried about her son receiving a tardy, but I reminded her to look at the line of kids waiting to get their breakfast. No one was going to count tardies for all of them. She wasn't convinced, so I added that our boys are in Kinder-what is the school going to do our boys for being late after a school-sponsored event? I could see from the uncertainty in her eyes, that she thinks I'm a rebel, bucking the elementary school system. She's right-Zach wore his regular running shoes today instead of his solid brown ones and he hasn't worn a belt since the second week of school. My friend cut the belt loops off of her son's pants so that he wouldn't have to wear a belt. I'm just glad Zach's shirt is still tucked in at the end of the day!

The best part of the morning was the sense of community that this event built. All over the track, kids were running around saying "Hi" to their friends, going to look for them, and convincing their different groups of friends to walk together. They felt the freedom of being let lose with only a few parents and fewer teachers. In their behalf, the event was optional for the students, so teachers were required to wait in their classes for any students who showed up in class.

I was surprised to learn from Ainsley that if a student in her class gets on Orange before recess, they have to run 3/4 mile before they can play. That would have motivated me in elementary school, that's for sure. Ainsley was sure she would never need to do this. In Sydney's grade, they start out recess every day by walking two laps. Some days, she said, they like to keep walking around the track while they talk.

Speaking of classroom discipline systems, Ainsley created her own color: Pink is for when she hasn't gotten in trouble but has had a minor bad day. I think the other day she was worried about what happens to your eyes when you read in the dark, so she marked her folder pink. In Zach's class, they each have a paper car. If the car stays in it's pocket, it's good. If it moves from green all the way down to red, it means that the car will be crushed by too much traffic, which is bad.

I miss Hardy Oak's system of having every child in the school spend the last 5 minutes of their day reflecting on how well they lived their school's virtues. They had to figure out when they had made a poor choice during the day, decide which virtue they hadn't been living, and mark it in their folder. The teacher reviewed the folders in which she needed to add extra comments to the parents about the misbehavior. They were never punished, unless it was serious and needed a trip to the principal, but instead were not considered to be a Self-Manager. When the school held Self-Manager Celebrations, those children who consistently failed to manage their own behavior were invited to hang out in the library instead. They also did not get to wear their self-manager badge or participate in school-sponsored extra curricular activities.

Something tells me that Zach is capable of more than understanding how to keep his truck from being crushed.

PS-Even though I didn't finish getting my kids settled into their classes until 30 minutes after the tardy bell rang, no one received a tardy slip.

Also, if you ever come across poor grammar or poor word choices in my blog, I apologize. I always write late at night, and while I try to edit and revise, there is only so much I can do before my brain turns back into a pumpkin.

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

School Prayer

Before President Obama was elected, prayer in school offered the chance for a rousing debate. No one votes on a single issue anymore, but if they did, it wouldn't be abortion or school prayer. Those days are gone now that people are worried about providing for their families or the dissolution of their personal liberties or war.

When Sydney started Kinder at Hardy Oak, she started their amazing morning ritual. Each day they say the Pledge of Allegiance, the Texas Pledge, the Hardy Oak Pledge, sing one of five well-known patriotic songs, and observe a moment of silence. Every time I experienced this during those five years at Hardy Oak, it brought tears to my eyes. I taught Sydney and Ainsley to use that moment to say a short prayer.

I used to be in favor of school prayer, and then I was introduced to Mike Huckabee. I had friends who told me that God doesn't hear my prayers or that I'm not really praying to God; my skin is thick enough that those comments go in one ear and out the other. However, my friends don't have access to the special pen and special presidential portfolio that are used specifically in the White House rose garden or the west lawn. Although Huckabee's Primary antics opened my eyes, I'm commenting less here on Mike Huckabee's religious opinions or fervor and more on the power and reach of the federal government.

Re-instituting school prayer would have been important to Huckabee; his voters adamantly supported that. I wonder how he would have accomplished this. What would school prayer look like in 2009? A prayer by a different Christian church each day, a day of nothing to please atheists, a prayer offered by a Muslim, by a Jew. What about Scientology, Shekinah, spiritualism, the Divine Female, or local Native American tribes? A prayer to Mary? Everyone has a right to pray according to the dictates of their own conscience, but once you open that Pandora's box, how do you close it? And on a federal level at that, as the Supreme Court would likely decide this debate after the inevitable lawsuit were filed.

What would have happened to the rights of those who don't want to pray. Or what about those children whose parents haven't taught them to pray? Who would teach them?

It's my opinion that a moment of silence is fine, but that it is a parent's responsibility to provide opportunities to pray, to teach the language of prayer, and when it's appropriate (as in all the time, even if it's a pray in your heart). Not to offend the wonderful teachers and administrators that I know, but a teacher's primary job is not the moral training of their students. Their efforts should be aimed at creating safe environments that are conducive to learning and supporting what should be taught at home. I know, what century am I living in? Until then, teachers and counselors teach our kids "the virtues" as my girls call them.

Finally, if the protecting power of prayer is so important to these voters, then why don't they pray with their children before they leave the house each morning? Or better yet, they could pray twice: breakfast and family prayer. If prayer is so vital, why don't they teach their children how to offer up a silent, quick prayer before an exam or presentation or when they need comfort?

This is the essence of my complaint against prayer at school: when has the federal government ever been assigned the duty of instilling moral behavior and, as a result, faith? While there are those who do not teach their children to pray or teach them not to pray, surely the proponents of school prayer are willing and able to pray with their own children. So, why the debate?

Monday, October 5, 2009

Choices

This weekend I heard some interesting thoughts that I'd like to share. The first was a saying that I can only paraphrase. It goes something like this: we will not bear the yoke of Christ, so we will tremble under the yoke of Caesar. The person speaking was likening this to the poor economic climate whose catalyst was the bust in the our housing industry. The greed and corruption of a few who would not do the right, or, in other words, would not submit to the yoke of Christ, brought stricter government regulations on the rest of the country. We see a decrease in our personal liberties as a result of those who acted financially or legally unethical.

There is a saying that normally says something about "the thick and thin of things," but I heard another version that is "In the thick of thin things." Sometimes we spend our time doing things that don't matter much in the scheme of things. With so many worthwhile ways to fill our time, how do we know what's the best use of our time?

That's a struggle I face with my kids each school year. Every special interest group has an opinion:

The kids should do sports because they need to be healthy, they only have 20 minutes of recess each day and PE only once a week, they need to be prepared for junior high sports which prepares them for high school athletics which has been shown to keep them out of trouble, helps them to fit in, and they need to learn how to work as a team, dedication, hard work, they need to learn to be physically fit, not only to avoid childhood obesity and diabetes, but to have a healthy body image, they need to learn sports that they will never participate in after high school...

The kids should run and play all afternoon because they don't spend enough time outdoors, acting like children, they don't learn to entertain themselves, they forget how to make friends and master the rules of the playground, they lose a sense of community and family, they are over scheduled and tired...

The kids should do homework and read without any tv or video games except for 1 hour on Saturday because they need to learn everything in elementary so that they can do well in Jr High so that they can be in the right classes and do well in high school so that they can get in to the right college, parents need to teach their children math facts and how to write the alphabet neatly and practice spelling, learn every vocab word in the science text book, and make sure they read on grade level because there isn't enough time to do these things in school, and tv will turn their brain to mush, make them have ADD from all the bright lights zapping around the screen, video games foster violence, and if they want to relax they can read a book...

They should also clean their rooms everyday before they can play, which is after homework but before sports, they should learn to cook and sort laundry, they should be taught how to grocery shop, to iron and to sew...

They should learn to play an instrument or to sing because they need to develop some talents, their brain learns math better if they learn music and play an instrument, they need to practice, they need to share their talents...

They should eat dinner at 5:30, they should never eat trans-fats or high fructose corn syrup, or anything that comes in a box or is white, they should never eat sugar cereal, they should take a bath every day and blow dry their hair so that it doesn't look stringy, they should be in bed by 7:30 so that they can get enough sleep, they should eat breakfast every day, and have adorable looking sack lunches filled with raw carrots and without lunch meat because they contain nitrates...

They should not get every toy they want, they should earn their toys, they should keep their rooms and toys clean and organized, but they should play with them often to show gratitude, they need to play with toys when they can't run around outside, they should share their toys with their friends, they should have friends over often, they should have the cool stuff so that everyone wants to come to your house so that you can keep an eye on what's going on...

They should wear modest clothing so that they don't look like Hollywood superstars who unrealistically never face consequences for wearing a few triangles of clothing sewed together, they should get to wear beautiful clothes, but they shouldn't be materialistic, they need to look current without being led to believe that what they wear trumps everyone else's needs, they shouldn't look like ragamuffins, but they shouldn't get new clothes every season...


They should spend time alone with mom to fill their love buckets, to learn to talk and share before they are teenagers, to learn how to act, or not to act, around the boy they have a crush on, to learn how much make-up is too much, what outfits actually match and why, why white cotton uniform shirts don't fall under the white after labor day rule...

They should spend time with Dad to increase their self-esteem, to play sports with Dad because mom is ready to sit down, to bond because he's the only other guy around since Jack, the dog, doesn't count, to learn how a boy should treat them, to learn how to be a man...

They should do something nice for somebody else everyday, they should learn to pray and read their scriptures daily, by themselves and with their family, they should go to church and midweek activities, they should learn to be kind and respectful, to follow the golden rule, to learn what good behavior is and why they should act that way, they should learn to choose the right if only because it is the right thing to do, they should learn to stand up for the little guy, that good manners matter because good manners show you care about people...

Does that list make you as tired as it makes me? How is a parent supposed to choose? Times four.

Some parents choose to homeschool their kids. It seems to me that this is the perfect way to check all of those boxes without having to spend time in the carpool line at school. It seems a great way to apply the adage to submit to the yoke of Christ rather than tremble under the yoke of Caesar.

It would be perfect for the kind of mom that doesn't need to relax ever. Someone who doesn't want to occasionally spend an afternoon wrestling with the three year old and reading a book instead of being responsible and mopping the kitchen floor.

Everthing on that list is a valid reason or worthwhile endeavor, but there just aren't enough hours in the day to do all of that. Some days, we are the super family accomplishing feats of organization and productivity. Every other normal day, we are lucky not to eat the mystery meat in the school cafeteria, some of us get a bath, we have prayer and scripture study, home work done, sat through someone's athletics, and not raised our voices.

Sunday, October 4, 2009

The secret lives of kids and dogs

This week Sydney was sick with a cold. She had a few "flu" symptoms, but wasn't seriously ill. As long as she had her tylenol, cold medicine, and lots of rest, she was fine.

Howard Hall's new policy is that students with any flu-like symptoms have to be kept home for 5 days, so Syd and I had a nice week of relaxing on the couch. I think I read five books this week, and we caught up on Phinneus and Ferb and Jonas episodes. We went to the library, to the grocery store, and to drop off treats at a friend's house. Both of the girls had projects due this week, so we spent time after school each day working on those. All in all, it was fun to have Sydney hanging around, and it was a nice excuse not to have to go anywhere.

As I write, Audrey is pretending to be a puppy, sitting on the floor with Jack, sharing his dog food. Crunch, crunch. (I just substituted chocolate teddy grahams for Audrey's bowl of dog food.) Now Jack wants the teddy grahams, too. Audrey is attempting to eat out of the dog bowl by putting her face down in it like Jack does.

Earlier this morning there was a cat on our deck. Jack didn't notice it until I walked over to the window to show Audrey. Once the cat noticed us, it hopped away from Jack's empty dog bowls, but didn't leave the deck. Only after Jack started barking did the cat jump off the deck. I couldn't let Jack out quite yet because the cat was still just on the other side of the screen. Last time a squirrel did this, Jack crashed through a portion of the deck screen. Once the cat was a little further away, I opened the door and led Jack by the collar over to the real exit. I haven't fixed the other screen, but I didn't want to take the chance that he'd pick a different screen to run through. I am waiting until we move out to fix the screens because they are so fragile and would be ruined before too long.

Speaking of fragile, the new term for children who are at high-risk for contracting communicable diseases are called "Medically Fragile." If the school has a certain percentage of students out, the medically fragile students will be kept at home, but not their healthy siblings. I think the magic number for this is for 15% of students to be sick. Howard Hall only has 600-ish students, 15% isn't a large number of students.

Audrey finally told me a few days ago that she was ready to pick Dad up from his hotel. She was ready to get started on that haunted house she has plans to build with him. I reminded her that he will be ready for us after Zach's birthday. Thank goodness for birthdays; whenever she hears about Zach's birthday, she starts planning her own party.

Another thing that Audrey remembered this week was Katie. She asked this morning where our black dog is. I told her that Katie went to live with a new family. Audrey's response was that the black dog was at the hotel with Daddy. I"m hoping she doesn't remember that thought when Neil gets home. Poor little Audrey.

Audrey got a new stuffie this week: a small pink chihuahua. This stuffie is similar to "Chiwawy", her brown chihuahua stuffie. Zach thought they should get married, but Audrey insists that they will be best friends.

Sydney gave Audrey a "spa" one afternoon when she was feeling better. In an attempt to recreate the hair wash stations at the spa, Sydney moved Ainsley's chair in with it's back against the counter and the sink. She painted Audrey's nails light blue and put lotion on her. Unfortunately for Audrey, Sydney couldn't find a happy medium between the hot and cold tap water from the sink, so Audrey had her hair washed with cold tap water. That's when the crying started.

Jack's shedding has increased this last week, so I took him outside yesterday with the Furminator. It sounds high tech, but it's only a metal fur brush. Let's just say that I haven't had a chance to sweep up the fur yet, and it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas out back. Imagine a walkway lined with that faux snow that's really teddy bear stuffing. I may be exagerating slightly, but it's still gross. If only we could fuel our cars off of Jack fur. I'd be a millionaire. Until then, I'll just be sweeping.

Actually, Audrey just got into the poster paints, so I'm off to clean.