Labels

As human beings, we like to sort, to categorize, to label. We do plenty of this in our own home, and it goes beyond the obvious parents and kids. We have big kids and little boys. Boy Scouts and Cub Scouts. Gentlemen and ladies. High schooler, middle schoolers, elementary students, and a preschooler. Some of the categories shift over time while others remain constant; but my main point is that we use them when they serve a purpose. Who is in charge? Who is old enough to walk downtown alone or watch this movie? Who needs to be at that meeting? Which one should open doors for the other? Who is studying which books?

The school system makes regular use of labels, both to identify groups as well as individuals, but instead I’d like to focus on labels used by homeschoolers. Many of the books that I read before Drama Boy was out of diapers neatly divided homeschoolers into groups based on how they taught: Charlotte Mason. Unit studies. School-at-home. There were others which I’ve forgotten, but by the time he was ready to hold a pencil the “big” one was Classical Education and I was determined to give the kids a classical education come hell or high water.

Now, for a few years we managed to pull off something that was more or less Classical Education. Even though I was still in the midst of childbearing, we did it. It helped that the two older boys are both academic in their own ways and Twirly Girl is generally cooperative. But then the rest of life became far more challenging. . .I had less energy to devote to school, but I still had the same ideals. I started to refer to our homeschool style as relaxed Classical. I know–it sounds so absurd, doesn’t it?

Eventually I came to realize that while Classical Education is a good thing, it is not a good fit for our family. At the same time I started reading more about Unschooling, and found the encouragement I needed to stop letting learning get in the way of life. But while I recognized many of our habits in what I was reading I also realized that this label did not fully fit us either. We’ve chosen to educate our children at home rather than send them to school, and how we accomplish that will vary based on the day or season or child. To that end, Homeschool is the only label we need with regard to our educational endeavors.

A poor, miserable sinner

It’s nearly impossible to forget that my children are sinful human beings. Their sins are daily in my face. Often their apologies are followed immediately by the word but. They are stubbornly unrepentant, insistent that they were wronged rather than wrong. They continue to sin in the same ways, again and again. And again.

But when I’m being honest with myself, I know they learned it from me. I use up my best behavior with others and give my family the leftovers. I’m sorry I lost my temper but you. . . I am lazy rather than diligent in my vocation as wife and mother. Every week; no, every day, many times over.

I, a poor, miserable sinner, confess unto You all my sins and iniquities with which I have ever offended You and justly deserved Your temporal and eternal punishment. But I am heartily sorry for them and sincerely repent of them, and I pray You of Your boundless mercy and for the sake of the holy, innocent, bitter sufferings and death of Your beloved Son, Jesus Christ, to be gracious and merciful to me, a poor, sinful being.        –LSB p. 184

There is, of course, much to be said for the forgiveness that is daily offered and received at home. But there is also a sweet comfort in the weekly corporate confession and absolution within the Divine Service. Thanks be to God that His love and compassion as a heavenly Father far exceed my own as a poor sinful mother!

Bittersweet

The kids keep growing. . .that’s a good thing, but I still miss some things that are now forever in my past. Things like:

• Being able to fit all four kids on my lap for evening prayers.
• Smiles from a nursing baby.
• Reading aloud a stack of Sandra Boynton board books.
• Three little boys in a tub giving each other bubble beards.
• The kick of an unborn baby.
• Bitty pigtails and dresses with matching bloomers.
• Kissable toes.
• Everyone napping after lunch (and 8pm bedtimes!).

Don’t get me wrong. I am thrilled to watch my kids grow and learn new things! But to all my friends who warned me, when I was in the throes of morning sickness and unending diapers, that the little days would pass far too quickly. . .you were right.

Volume

I’ve been thinking recently about how loud my family is. It occurred to me that anyone who meets me first and then meets my family. . .might be in for a surprise. Which is probably why I’m s0metimes embarrassed to go places with my family. Please don’t misunderstand: I love my husband and children very much. But I wouldn’t complain if they collectively turned down the volume!

As far as personality goes I would guess that we’re fairly evenly split between introverts and extroverts, with one adult on each extreme. But I suppose that says more about a person’s need for quiet versus chatter, rather than how loud they will be when they do talk. After all, frequently I have to be louder than I want to be. . .or no one will be able to hear me. And some of my introverted children have long stretches of quiet punctuated with extremely loud outbursts. I’m not even going to pretend to understand that.

I sometimes wonder if the heavy load of testosterone affects the volume. I know there are quiet boys in the world, but boys with brothers (emphasis on the plural) seem to be a different breed. Even when they’re not particularly loud, their collective energy level is overwhelming. . .like a geyser simmering beneath the surface before it erupts.

As much as I like to fix things, this is one of those situations where all I can say is “it is what it is.” Even if I could, I wouldn’t really want to alter the personalities of the children entrusted to me. Train them to be their best, help them mature? Yes. But make them be something they’re not? No. Now. . .if you could just remind me of that the next time you see me covering my ears or wearing a paper bag over my head.

Love?

I assume in the spirit of Valentine’s Day, the local children’s resource center sign currently states:

Roses are red
Violets are blue
You love your children
We love them too

Really?

For the sake of being charitable, I’ll overlook the matter of employees who are only there to earn a paycheck. Still, at the risk of sounding cynical, I have a hard time imagining that even the most dedicated employee has a mother’s love for each and every child who walks through the doors of the center. Do they love children in a general sense? I’m sure they do. Do they enjoy spending day after day with other people’s children? I imagine they have good days and bad days. Do they put their best effort into helping each child reach his potential? Again, I’m sure they do.

But do they have a vested interest in every child’s entire life? I don’t think so. Do they love a child even at his most unlikeable? I doubt it. Do they take the time to observe and discover what makes each child special? Again, I doubt it. Please know that I’m not questioning the need for this center in our community; I am sure they provide needed services to many families. In fact, serving our neighbors is a form of loving our neighbor as Jesus commands in Matthew 22:34-40. But that service pales in comparison to the love of a mother (or father).

Quarantine

No, not my blog. . .though I apologize for my absence last week. We went to Nebraska for Larry to attend a conference and I didn’t have the opportunity to write. Too busy visiting friends, touring the state capitol, celebrating Twirly Girl’s birthday, and drinking Chocovine with the aforementioned friends.

No, I was referring to “quarantine” as in I missed church yesterday morning to stay home with three sick kids. Now that I’ve had more time to watch and observe, I’m fairly certain we’ve only been afflicted with a common cold. But this is one area where I prefer to err on the side of caution: I’d rather not share germs if it can be avoided. Yes, there are times that it can’t be avoided–Baby Boy started getting sniffly while we were on the far side of Nebraska. I don’t know where the germs started, but that was a case where sharing was inevitable. Now that we are back home, I see no reason to have taken our germs to church where most of our members are seniors. This also reminds me why we never managed to attend story time regularly: we would stay home the weeks we were sick, only to return and find others bringing sick kids. And little kids are not known for their hygiene, so invariably we would get sick again. Just for the record, it takes awhile for an illness to work its way through a large family. . .and sometimes by the time the last one recovers, the first one succumbs again.

I’m sorry if I’m blathering a bit, but this is one of my soapbox issues. When possible, sick people belong at home. . .both for the speed of their own recovery, and for the sake of not exposing others. No, I know it isn’t fun–I have at times missed church too many Sundays in a row staying home with one child after another. But in my mind, it’s worth it to stop passing germs back and forth.

Online

Just some random notes about where I’ve spent my time online lately. . .

• Pinterest. It’s Gina’s fault but I’m having a lot of fun playing with it all the same. It’s like having my bulletin board wall again, except I can also see what my friends have on their boards.
• FreeRangeKids. I can’t remember how or where I came across this blog–it seems to me it’s been awhile although I only recently added it to Google Reader for regular reading. I’ve never been able to understand “helicopter parenting” and it’s nice to know I’m not the only one trying to raise independent kids.
• This article on Homeschool Blindspots. I think it was linked on Loopers, so it may already be familiar to you. I wanted to add a link here for my own future reference as it gave me a lot of food for thought.
• And where I haven’t been: Facebook. I deactivated my account for a couple months, and when I reactivated I pared my friends list down to family as well as friends with whom I don’t have another point of contact. This lets me check in once a week (or less), which suits me fine.

Golden days

I keep reminding myself these are our golden days as a family. . .in just under four years, we’ll no longer all be together all the time. That’s not to say that there aren’t times that the noise and chaos of togetherness wear me out. True to my introverted self, even when everyone is staying out of mischief I find it wearing. But though I tend to stay on the sidelines, not in the thick of the action, I prefer being together to being scattered.

We’re now in the stage where the kids go places by themselves or in small groups. Drama Boy goes to football, or he and Boy Genius go on a Scout campout with or without Larry, or Twirly Girl bikes downtown to get more library books (or buy chocolate), or some of the boys head to the local park to play, or. . .well, you get the idea. Someone is always coming and going, and while they are gone our home isn’t the same.

It’s funny, in a way. When we’re all together, we tend to notice each other’s faults: sinners all, with our own weaknesses and struggles. Yet as soon as someone is away we find it is their strengths that we miss. Unique skills, a sense of humor, a special bond with a little brother. . .even with eight in our family, we each still hold a place that no one else can fill. So even when I’m about to pull my hair out, I’m doing my best to enjoy having all places filled for as long as I can.

Flying solo

Here I go again, playing solo parent for the week–or at least most of it. No painting projects this time, as I have no big kids. Just me and my three little boys. Bouncy Boy is still 10 months too young for our district’s Lutheran Youth Camp, and while Larry (aka Mr. Camp Director) offered to take him I think he will benefit from waiting a year. He has mostly been helpful this afternoon, and Silly Boy and Baby Boy have not caused too much trouble. Yet.

I would like to try to do some “fun” things with them this week; we’ll see how that goes. I wanted to take them to Mr. Popper’s Penguins until I read an online review and realized the Atwaters would not recognize their story. It may well still be a decent kid flick but. . .I am pretty sure the book is much better. Going to the beach is another option, depending on weather. I need to make the hour trek to Walmart for school supplies; I doubt they will be excited about that but perhaps they can be bribed with fast food. There is a Cub Scout wiener roast this week so we will be sure to attend that.

I have a couple local errands to run, and I want to get some smaller projects done around the house. At the top of my list is straightening the bookshelves, combined with weeding out books that are either beyond repair or never read anymore. I also need to spend a little bit of time straightening the storage room; when I was painting, several things were simply tossed in there to deal with “later.” Later is here. This afternoon I traced the pattern for my 1944 house dress and I’d like to get it sewn this week. I also want to finish sewing the window treatments for the living room. Not as much fun as garment sewing, but it will be nice to be one step closer to the room being done. I am hopeful that I can get some of these little projects done while the boys are playing. . .and I’d like to make myself sit down and knit when they are watching movies.

Busy

Not me, so much, but the rest of my family. Although trying to keep up with them is wearing me out too. Scout camp, soccer camp, football camp, county fair, and the list just keeps going. So much for my plans to get just a little more work done before calling it quits on the 2010-2011 school year!

In the meanwhile, I’m slowly putting the living room back to rights. A few things (like painting the register covers) will be added to Larry’s list; others are (like sewing new valances) are mine to do. And all the while I keep on cooking and cleaning and taking children places. . .