the teacher I never knew I was

I never wanted to be a teacher.

Not ever.

When I was a kid and people asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I never said “teacher.”  I looked at my many friends pursuing teaching degrees in college with a mixture of pity and wonderment.  Pity because of all the busy work in those horrid education classes*.  And wonderment because, to me, it was the height of self-sacrifice.

When I was 10 or so and my best friend would set up “school” for us to play, it took all the enthusiasm I could muster to go along.  She’d happily stand at the front with ruler in hand pointing at the board, going over lesson after lesson, while I’d sit on the floor, the dutiful student waiting for school to get out.

Now that I’m a homeschooling mom, teaching is my life.  Let’s face it, if you’re a mom, period, teaching is a big part of your life, even if you’re not homeschooling.  Everything about having kids involves teaching.

But, shockingly, I love to teach.  There, I said it.  I love to teach my kids.  And no one could be more surprised about it than I am.  Yes, it’s hard work and yadda yadda yadda, but what I didn’t know was that it is also incredibly rewarding and exciting.

I’ve always loved to learn.  I could have stayed in school for a very long time and been quite happy, I think.  Teaching my kids gives me an opportunity to continue learning and it also has pushed my relationship with my kids to levels that I wouldn’t have anticipated.

Looking at curriculum, getting to decide what fits my kids and our family best, reading and reading and reading some more, it’s awakened the teacher in me that I never knew I was.

Having my daughter read a book to me and knowing that I had a hand, the hand, in teaching her to do that, is a reward better than any degree I could earn.  And, at least I got to avoid the busy work!

*Not all teaching degrees require horrid busy work.  That’s just my perception. :)

note to self: be a drop-out.

I sporadically participate in a competitive world of comparisons.

Note to self: drop out.

This is a plague for moms of every stripe.  Especially young moms with young kids (I think anyway, but who knows maybe it infects the moms with older kids too).

It’s as simple as seeing another child do well at something and, instead of rejoicing for them and moving on, we check to see how our child measures up and are either happy or disappointed at the result.

Or perhaps we see the deftness with which another mom disciplines her kids and we immediately begin to think of what we would have done and find that we fall very short.

So, I say it’s time to drop out of the competitive comparison rat race.  I’ve only dropped out a ga-zillion times before.  But somehow, without realizing it I find myself re-enlisted.

I need to love my kids more by not basing their success on the observation of other individuals who are very different from them in every respect.  Instead  I should focus on who God has made my children to be and expect growth, not perfection.

The same goes for myself.  Concentrate on growth in who God has made me to be.  Cling to Jesus’ sufficiency.

And the dirty little secret is that when we base our children’s success or worth on a standard outside the Bible, such as the measure of other children, we are not loving our kids, we are using them to fulfill our own need and desire for happiness in them through their good behavior or achievement.  We are observing what we think will bring us happiness in the behavior or achievement of other people’s children and applying it to our own kids.

The Bible tells us our children are valuable because God made them.  They are gifts to us.

Plus, the standard of “other people’s children” or the way “other parent’s parent” will never be a high enough standard.  We will be selling ourselves short of the biblical mandates that are the BEST for us and come with the power of Christ working in us to help us in our weaknesses!

I will make a disclaimer here, however, that not all comparisons are bad.  Only the bad ones are bad.  The ones that make you upset with who God has made you and your children to be.  The ones that stir up discontentment and produce smugness or condemnation or apathy.

There is a type of comparison that stirs us up to love and good deeds, that inspires, strengthens and convicts.  I know this kind of comparison because it happens when we are surrounded by people who want the best for us and our kids and who we experience unconditional love with and for.

This good “comparing,” or observing, models for us Biblical commandment-keeping in action.

It happens when I see the families in our small group lovingly parent their kids towards Christ and obedience and I’m inspired and grow in my love for God and for my kids.  Or when I see another mom, humble and lowly, not using her kids to show-off (Lord forgive me for the times I’ve done this), simply nurturing them in the instruction of the Lord.

Comparisons are complicated.  If we’re engaged in them in order to make ourselves feel good about ourselves, the opposite will eventually happen; we’ll feel deficient and we’ll see our children as deficient (and if we don’t smugness and ugliness will overtake us).  But if we look at what godly brothers and sisters do with an attitude of humility, love and learning, we will learn and grow and love.

So, yep, I’m a drop-out.  But just of that bad, competitive kind of comparing.  The other kind I’ll keep: it’s valuable stuff!

what have I gotten myself into?!!

Well, as most of you know, I’m now an “official” homeschool mom.

Whoa.

Even though I’m very familiar with homeschooling and know lots and lots (and lots!) of people who do it, I still feel very intimidated by the task and frequently question our decision to homeschool.

And, if you know me at all, you know that I’m the anti-crafty lady.  Crafts run away when they hear me coming.  They know I’ll butcher them and they will end up in the trash.  As much as I try to like scrapbooking, (and have heard-tell of the joy of scrapbooking retreats) it is my arch nemesis.

Cutting, pasting, finagling: I’m no good. (I do like to color, however.)

So, I can’t help but laugh when I see pictures of the science project (read: glorified craft) the kids and I did last week.  They loved it.  And I loved that they loved it.  Even though cutting that cardboard was some form of hand-in-scissor torture.

Now, my sweet Eliza could do crafts all day.  And she is slowly helping to redeem the craft cynical side of me.

She and Seth watched with great anticipation as we took our homemade weathervane out to the front sidewalk.  We set it on the ground and held our breaths.

Apparently the wind was holding its breath too.  Barely a breeze to be felt.  Finally someone must have exhaled strongly enough to cause the weathervane’s arrow to wiggle and look as though it might spin. Squeals of delight abounded.

So, with a weathervane under our collective belt, I now dub us a real homeschool family.  Which makes me a real homeschool mom. (OK, OK, enough snickering).  But seriously, what have I gotten myself into?!!

a pox on your house

A pox on our house, really.

Eliza has the chicken pox.  And yes, she had the vaccines, which is making this a very mild case (as opposed to the sometimes life-threatening cases that children used to be faced with).

So I’m thankful for the vaccine and hoping the other kids avoid it altogether.

I thought about posting pictures of the pox, but thought that might be kind of weird and child-abusive-ish.  So, I’m opting for some happy non-pox pics instead.

In their pj’s, watching the duck family swim around the pond one morning (I use the term “morning” loosely).

Seth and Elianna doing the afternoon snack thing.

Elianna’s attempt at giving her brother a smooch..

Dodds’ kiddie couch snuggle.

Snuggle’s done, time for  some goofy fun.

Sisters with shut-eyes and smiles.

And a second attempt to smooch Seth, this time successful, by Eliza.

So, unlike the Shakespearean curse, “a pox on your house,” (and unlike my title) I hope there is no chicken pox at your house.

for lack of wisdom…

For my regular readers you may or may not be wondering why I haven’t posted yet today, as I usually do on Friday.

I had my 4 wisdom teeth out yesterday, and today has been pretty rough.   So, even though I thought I’d be able to hammer out a post while feeling a bit miserable, I wasn’t able to until now.

So, my apologies.

And here are 4 quick reasons why getting your wisdom teeth out before you’re an “adult” is wise:

1) Your parents pay for it.

2) You have no responsibilities to manage while you’re feeling crumby.

3) By the time you’re an adult, you’ll either have forgotten most of it, or have a good story to tell.

4) And, if you get it done early, you won’t procrastinate about it later, when they’re causing you actual trouble.

I know, pretty lame post.  But what can I say, I am lacking in wisdom of late.  

If I’d have been really wise, I’d have planned my post ahead, as I sometimes do, then wouldn’t have come to this point of writing a short desperate little post about something no one really wants to hear about anyway.

Oh well.

8 hours of screen time

Whoa-ser.  A new study shows that Americans spend 8 hours a day in front of a screen.

This includes tv, computer screens, cellphones and other devices.  That’s a lot.  But if your job is to work on a computer it isn’t quite so much.  8 hours would be minimum for the workday, then throw in a tv show or two and cell phone texts etc,  and that person is up to 10 hrs.

Not to mention if you have a blog.  That can definitely up your screen time. 

The study said that over 5 hrs of the 8 are spent watching tv.  5 hours watching tv per day.  Hmmm, they’re missing a lot of good shows.  

Just kidding!  That’s a joke I heard; thought I’d pass it on. 

Seriously though, I try to limit my time on this here computer.  (Even though it is a mac and I really like it!)  The things that bring me in front of the screen most regularly are: facebook, this blog, checking drudge and reading news, emailing and reading or watching sermons.  I know I could just listen to the sermons, but sometimes I like watching them or reading them.

My other contributor to screen time is watching the shows Lost and American Idol.  I know they often air at the same time, in which case I defer to Lost.  I don’t DVR American Idol because usually after it airs I’m not all that interested anymore.

And we don’t have a DVR. :)

There’s my contribution to the “8 hours of screen time.”  What are yours?  

*You need not qualify your answer by telling me how small the amount of screen time actually is.  I know.  You are barely ever in front of a screen.  You hardly contribute at all, except… fill in the blank.  I’ll assume you use great discretion and are very godly in your screening limitation.  Unless you aren’t, in which case I’ll let the Spirit convict as it will.

confession and prayer, part 1

Do you have a hard time confessing your sin?

I think we have four main responses when it comes to the questions: “How are you doing?  Are you struggling in any areas?  How can I pray for you? 

We either 1) give a flat, “Nope, I’m good,” 2) we give a token confession 3) we change the subject or, 4) we really answer the questions with life-sharing and confession.  

In the first case of complete denial, maybe we’re thinking, as the Lord brings to mind something worth confessing, “I confess it to you Lord, after all, it’s against you and you alone that I have sinned; why bother bringing these folks into it?  Why do they need to know that I’ve been a big complainer lately?”

I am guilty of this.

Or, we give a token confession.  When faced with intruding questions we might say, “I’m pretty good but I’ve been having a hard time keeping my sock drawer organized. (That’s a token confession; it’s of secondary importance.)

Or, we do the classic change of subject and say, “Oh yes, please pray for my uncle’s wife’s sister who will be traveling over Easter.” (While that may be valid, it’s still a dodge.)

The command to, “confess your sins to one another, and pray for each other,” is for our good.  Yet, even though I know this, pride and self-protection can get in my way.  Pride is simple and poisonous.  It says, “I care more about appearing good to these people than about obeying God and doing what He says is good for me.” 

And self-protection (which is more my problem) says, “They won’t understand; they’ll judge me instead of love me.  They’ll gossip about me.”  I would say a certain degree of self-protection is wise.  We should pick trustworthy Christians to confess our sin to.  But if this is established, the excuses become just that, excuses.

Also, the more protective we are of ourselves in sharing with others, the more protective the people around us will be of themselves.  If my big problem is that I can’t get my socks in good working order, then the person next to me may have trouble admitting they can’t seem to get their life in working order.

God’s been working on this area of my life.  What was a normal part of life in HS and college became uncomfortable and hard with the unfamiliar friends that go along with big life changes.  My husband has been a good example.  And I’m blessed to have people around me who make this seem easier and more routine.  

And God isn’t looking down in disgust at our sin laid out.  He already knows it all and He paid the price for it.  It’s a done deal.  I’m His and Christ has finished the work of sin payment.  So when He sees us confessing to one another, He sees obedient children doing what is good for their soul.

Next time I want to look at the fourth response, and, the essential place of prayer.

my first meme and a tangent

My friend over at The Responsible Puppet introduced me to the concept of a meme, so I thought I’d try one here.  I’d never heard of it, so if you haven’t either, here’s a definition:

meme: n.   A unit of cultural information, such as a cultural practice or idea, that is transmitted verbally or by repeated action from one mind to another.

Basically, I’m asking you a question about a culturally relevant “thing,” and you answer and can pass on the action to someone else (or not).  A side note, I CANNOT stand chain letters or guilt letters, as they should be called.  So if the “pass on the action” part of this in anyway reminds you of a guilt-inducing chain letter, disregard it and just have fun answering a silly question.

One more thing on chain letters, I don’t believe them.  Not any of them (I don’t question the motives of the friend who sent it to me, just the originator of it).  I recently got one that was a prayer chain letter that you had to sign and pass on to 5 or 10 people and my first thought was that it was a hoax.  My two cents is, if it is a real prayer concern, don’t use chain letters as your mode of passing it around.  I just feel manipulated and annoyed.   Enough.  Here’s the meme:

List the song or songs you would sing at your American Idol audition.

You get bonus points for:

-naming multiple songs

-naming songs that might cause you embarrassment or would surprise those who think they know you.

-naming your favorite judge

-telling what you think the judges would say

I would sing Dixie Chicks, Wide Open Spaces or Queen, Find Me Somebody to Love, or Billy Joel, For the Longest Time.  My favorite judge is Simon, but I like the new Cara too.  And I think they would tell me that I was boring, lacking personality, forgettable.  But, who knows, maybe they’d think I was great?

Credits: Thanks, Scott, for the idea and format!

are you an in-church massager?

Yes. You read that right.

In lieu of more serious posting, I thought I’d take a breather with some introspection about in-church massaging.  You know, the person sitting three rows in front of you whose hand never stops caressing the back of their significant other.  

Suddenly, your eyes are riveted to the patterns being made on the back.  You forget what the sermon is about and your finger slips from the place your pastor told you to mark in John 2, as you wonder if they are writing a secret message.  Did I detect number sequencing?  Will they move to full-head massage?  

So, obviously I’ve been distracted by this.  But I’ve also been guilty of it (in small amounts).  Mr. TommyD and I are arm-around-the-shoulders people… this seems much more acceptable to me.  

From Stuff Christians Like, here’s the People Against Massage In Church (PAMIC) Manifesto:

1. The difference between a pat and a massage.

We recognize and respect the need to pat someone on the back. Sometimes, it’s good to say “Hi” or “Good job” or “Your chair is currently resting on my big toe” with a small tap on the back. We support that. But when you pat more than four times and then linger, you have now crossed into massage territory my friend. 

2. Circles are great for cheerios, not church.

We recognize and respect the need to lay a hand on someone as you say hello or want to show your spouse support during a prayer. But when you start rubbing in a circle, a square or any other geometrical shape, you are now giving a massage. That’s not a big deal right? Wrong. Your rotating hand is creating what we call a “circle of distraction.” People around you will not be able to focus on the sermon as they instead become hypnotized by watching you. God hates that. It’s in Numbers or Exodus I think.

3. There are consequences if you try to massage us.

The members of PAMIC are attractive and funny and Godly and often smell very nice. Please don’t get confused by those four things and think it’s OK to ever give us a back or neck rub during church. If you do, we can’t be held responsible if you suddenly find yourself in some sort of karate arm bar lock, a sleeper hold or at the bottom of a wicked leg drop.

4. Don’t confuse not loving in church massages with not loving life, Jesus, our spouses etc.

You will assume, based on our plans to rid all churches, in all countries of “during church massages,” that we are not loving people. Perhaps you are rubbing someone’s neck as an act of worship or praise or affection. It’s possible we held hands with our spouses as we walked into church. We might give back rubs at home. We could be amazing “snugglers” but when it comes to touching folks at church, we follow the Bible. And there’s not a single example of someone in the Bible giving someone else a neck or back rub while Jesus taught. I dare you to find me a verse that shows someone massaging someone else while they listened to the Sermon on the Mount for instance.

Is this extreme? Perhaps, but few great revolutions started quietly. We will not go peacefully. We will march and protest and launch thousands of PAMIC Attacks. (A PAMIC Attack by the way is when you squirt someone that is trying to start a during church massage with a squirt gun full of vinegar.)

Non-massagers of the world unite!”

Don’t worry, for those of you proud in-church massagers, in the interest of fairness, there’s a manifesto for you too.  So, ‘fess up, are you an in-church massager?  Or do you sit, transfixed by the cheerios formed in the rows ahead of you?  

This does raise the larger issue of distractions in church.  What should be stopped/removed because it’s too distracting?  Crying babies?  Fidgety children?  Whispering?  Coughing?  Massaging?  I lean toward a liberal view of noise and distractions during the worship service.  I figure, it’s the body of Christ, we’re not going to be perfectly quiet.  Although disrespectful loud teens are my one caveat.  What’s yours?

an organic confession

There’s something you should know about me.  

I’m not an organic person.  I mean, I am organic, in the true sense of the word (read: I am derived from living things).  But, I’m not an organic mom (read: one who buys “organic” food, uses cloth diapers, green cleaning supplies, and won’t let anything labeled trans-fat touch her lips).

I may have just lost a chunk of my readers, but I’ll plunge ahead, assuming you are all still hanging with me and give the reasons:

1) Health isn’t my top priority. *gasp*.  I know it sounds weird to write down.  Maybe it’s wrong to feel this way? I’d rather spend the extra time it takes preparing uber-healthy organic food, doing something that is uber-healthy for my soul.  

2) The evidence about food is always changing anyway.  Low-fat used to be the sure-fire way to avoid heart disease, now it’s low-carb.  What if, in a couple years, they discover that all the chemicals organic farmers aren’t putting on the food, really were needed to keep diseased food off the shelves?

3) For me, food isn’t moral, it’s fuel.  I eat food so that I can walk around during the day.  I don’t eat food so that I can achieve perfect health.  (Similarly, I don’t think the earth is “moral.“)

4) It’s expensive.  I think it should be named “big organic,” the same way people say, “big oil.”

5) I don’t believe that eating organic is really going to keep me healthier.  I don’t think I have that kind of control over my health.  If God decides I’m getting cancer, he may use aspartame to do it, or he may use faulty genes, or he may just zap me.  But, either way, when he decides it, it’s happening.  

I have a friend who didn’t breast-feed her kids… on purpose. *double gasp*.  

It’s not because she’s unable.  It’s just a personal choice.  Her three older children are believers who passionately love God and others (her youngest is only 5, so I’m not sure about him:).  One time she told me, with a smile, “No, I didn’t breast-feed them, but they seem to have turned out ok.”  Now, that’s somebody with her priorities straight!

So, now you know.  I’m organically reluctant.  Can we still be friends?

Note: I feel a strong inclination to say that, yes, we do eat a (usually) balanced diet with veggies, etc. My kids don’t drink soda-pop and eat potato chips for supper.

 And for Mr. TommyD’s (my husband) sake, I should also note that he does not share my aversion to all-things organic.