On Apples and Arrows

On the recommendation of a trusted friend, I took Judah and Nadia to the Linden Waldorf School "Elves Faire."(Miriam was busy with her Daddy doing all sorts of other things--a kettlebell class, a Publix run, a visit to the Farmer's Market, etc.)

Armed with $15 worth of $1 tickets, Judah took off toward the archery booth. After shooting five arrows with his first two tickets, he moved on to the rope ladder. After that, he was off to the climbing wall.

Nadia and I cheered him on as he made his way up the wall with some serious spider skill. He was up in no time. The volunteer dad offered to let him climb it a second time. When he asked for the most difficult part of the wall, he was routed to the other side. This one took a little bit more time to scale, but the volunteer dad assured me that he was doing a great job. In fact, several kids who were taller than he was weren't able to get up that side. Beside him, a little girl had made it to the top but was too afraid to let go and belay down. Scared, she cried and cried and just kept holding on. Judah climbed up (again) and showed her how to let go and ease down. He climbed back up and offered to hold her hand. He climbed up a fourth time and showed her how slowly she would come down if she would just let go. She never did.

I was so proud of that kid.

Then we were off to have a little snack, which Judah paid for in tickets.

Now, out of tickets, Judah began to climb other things. And . . . he found a $5 bill. So he bought more tickets. I found another ticket, which I gave to him. By the end of the day, he had found at least 12 more tickets, nearly all of which he spent on archery.

He was told that if he were to hit the apple with an arrow, he would not only get to keep the arrow, but he would also win a pie. He might be a little bit motivated by competition--and rewards.

Since he never hit the apple, he finally came to me.

"Mom, if I give you two tickets, will you shoot an apple and win a pie for me? I'll buy another treat for you and Nadia."

Sure. I'd try. I think the last time I shot a bow and arrow, though, was when I was 12. That was . . . too many years ago.

By this time, James had arrived with Miriam, so I convinced Judah to let her have some tickets, too. We lined up at the three stations: first Miriam, then Judah, and then me.

The volunteer dad behind me coached me through loading my arrow and standing properly. "Good form," he says. "Ready?"

I let the arrow fly.

Right into the apple.

On the first try.

I am my father's daughter.

I had four more arrows to launch, but only the second one hit another apple. I think I had too much nervous energy after that. Poor Judah didn't get his pie, though. They ran out too quickly. He did, however, get to walk to the van holding an apple with an arrow through it. He made eye-contact with everyone he met on our way out and felt like the envy of every (very impressed) little boy on campus. I have to admit, I was pretty delighted to walk out of there knowing that not only did I offer to shoot the arrow for my young son, but I also hit the apple with the first shot. Makes me feel like my own little apple didn't fall far from his tree.

He might have been a little younger in these pics. Hee hee hee!

Wednesdays are for Writing

Wendy reminded me that today is Wednesday. That means I'm to write.

I actually have two memories I want to capture from the past week. I'll post them separately.

The first one happened the night Miriam lied to me (again) about brushing her teeth. She's mostly a truthful child. She has very few character flaws. She is, to be quite honest, nearly perfect.

But when I ask her, "Did you brush your teeth?" She nods. Whether she brushed them or not.

Usually I keep asking questions:

Are you sure?
Can I check?
Come here and let me smell your breath.

She sighs. Then pivots around and heads back to the bathroom. This scene may play out more than once before I call in reinforcements. I can rest assured that she has brushed her teeth if Daddy is in there to supervise.

Once we get to the part of the night that teeth are being brushed, I'm ready for a break.

This particular night, I just stopped and asked her, with sincere sadness in my voice, "Why are you lying to me?"

She broke down. She ran into the other room and cried. And cried. It took her several minutes to regain her composure, and when Daddy told her she needed to make it right with Mommy, she lost it again.

Finally, she came over to me, I took a break from washing dishes, sat down on a kitchen chair, and forgave her. I told her that I wanted her to be honest with me and that I would always try to be honest with her.

We embraced.

She says, "Mom, I got a picture of that man who was going to sacrifice his child and then the angel came and said not to do it and offered him the sacrifice. And then they hugged for a really long time."

Precious girl.

Photo by Plaid LLama Studios

My de-stress surprise.

My dear friend Ruthie posed a question on her blog that I kept thinking about even after I commented. She asked, "What do you do with the stress in your life? What are some of the things that you’ve found, that help you de-stress? "

Not so long ago, about a month or so, I felt like I needed to get the heck out of the house. I just needed a break--a moment of quiet. Peace. I felt over-stimulated and edgy. I just wanted OUT.

Now, let me preface this by saying it's rare--extremely rare--for my 8.5 year old son Judah to ask for music. In Daddy's car (Mommy's car no longer has a radio), he prefers talk radio to music stations. At home, he'd rather listen to an audio book than anything else. But on this particular day--on the day I needed OUT--he asked for a song. 

"Mom, I NEED to hear that song, 'Uncontainable.' Could you play it for me?" I've never played this song. Ever. I don't have a CD for it. I don't even really know all the words. But I know that we sing it sometimes at our church fellowship and maybe that's where he's heard it. (I found out later that he listens to it in the car with Daddy sometimes. That made me smile. I thought they mostly listened to NPR . . . which makes for some interesting conversations with my globally-minded son.)

I found the song on my fancy phone and handed it to Judah, who played it AGAIN and AGAIN and AGAIN and AGAIN. He belted out the words at the top of his lungs. He got on his knees and lifted his hands in worship to his Great God. 

Watching him give himself fully to The King of Kings in worship in my dining room/living room/kitchen, I melted. I started crying. I joined him. I was transported OUT: out of this realm and into another. All the stress left my body and I was at peace. 

Judah said to me, "Mom, I feel like I'm in another world when I'm singing this song." 

I offered, "That's because your spirit is connecting with God, who is also spirit. You're communing with God in a different realm."

He replied with tears in his eyes, "This is true happiness."

You are amazing, God. 

On Contentment

We visited my grandma (my mom's mom) and Aunt Vicki (my mom's younger sister) this week in Ocala, Florida. The kids had never met their great-grandma and Aunt Vicki had never met her nieces. We ended up calling Grandma "Peacock Grandma" since we already have a "Coffee Grandma" and this Grandma not only loves coffee but also loves peacocks--and ice cream.

Aunt Vicki is affectionately named "My Favorite Aunt Vicki," which is what she trains all of her nieces and nephews and now great-nieces and great-nephews to call her. Judah asked me how she could possibly know she was his favorite since she didn't know Aunt Sarah or Aunt Heather, but it didn't take him long to chime in, too. Sweet Nadia Ruth not only loved her Favorite Aunt Vicki, but also MFAV's dog Nacho. Little Nacho is 18 years old. The first time Nadia met him she literally squeezed the poop out of him. Nothing like being "loved" by a 2 and a half year old.

Miriam connected beautifully with Peacock Grandma. I'm convinced that if we lived closer, she'd ask to visit her every day. Judah had a lot of fun with the residents at the assisted living home where Grandma stays. Ms. Lee and Ms. Pat were his favorites (see pictures on the next post). They got almost as many hugs as Grandma before we left. If not for Miriam, the hugs would have been evenly distributed. Miriam just didn't want to let go. Precious girl.

During our Sunday afternoon chat on her beautiful front porch, Aunt Vicki asked if I'm content being a stay-at-home-mom and homeschooling. I was able to answer honestly, "Yes." I'm not only content, but my current occupation fuels many of my days. Today, for instance, I read a Facebook post by a dear woman who is navigating the world of staying at home with a 3-year-old highly sensitive son and a 6-month-old daughter (it wasn't that long ago that I was doing the same!) She posted today about some anxiety he experienced at a gymnastics class. That got me to thinking about the anxiety I experienced just registering my children for their Sunday School classes at Aunt Vicki's (HUGE!!!) church. Then, in between reading children's books aloud to my three littles, I snuck in a few pages of some of the books that I pick up as encouragement along the way.

So often in our busy and hurried American culture, we attempt to adapt the child to new situations instead of adapting situations to fit the child (this is also why I enjoy homeschooling so much--each child is so different!)
This particular mom was asking about essential oils as a possible remedy for her son's social anxiety. I'm thinking, "Just don't take him to gymnastics and forego the prescription! He's just not ready!" But I remember how hard it is to want to do as much as possible--to fit in an array of opportunities and educational experiences and provide a full life for your beautiful little toddler--and how heartbreaking it is when it doesn't work out as expected. So I forwarded to her a private message that I wrote three years ago and e-mailed to another friend who was experiencing similar struggles with her son and his preschool.

In that e-mail, I reference Susan Schaeffer Macaulay's For the Children's Sake: Foundations of Education for Home and School. Since I was first introduced to this book by my dear friend and veteran homeschool mom Valda Christensen, I have tried to read it every year to help shape and then reinforce my educational philosophy. Parenting is tough. It's full-on. It's all day and sometimes all night. And I'm in it for the long-haul. But I need encouragement, and Ms. Macaulay has it for me--as does Carole Joy Seid, who introduced me to Dr. Raymond Moore, whose books I pick up and re-read from time to time.

In Chapter 2 of For the Children's Sake, entitled "Children Are Born Persons," (penned first by a certain Charlotte Mason, who lived well over 100 years ago and pioneered an educational movement in England which continues to ripple through 2012 all the way to Nashville, TN), we read: Look well at the child on your knee. In whatever condition you find him, look with reverence. We can only love and serve him and be his friend. We cannot own him. He is not ours (p. 13). I forget that. These children are entrusted to us by God. They are His. And what a mighty responsibility that is.

Macaulay goes on to say on p. 14, "Charlotte Mason rejects the utilitarian view of education and the conventional educational standards of her day. She challenges us instead to identify the child's actual needs and capacities; to serve him as he is, on the basis of what is right and good for him as a person. Will this perspective not produce a selfish, nonuseful member of society? No indeed. Not if we serve this person with true education.

Our journals ask with scorn, --'Is there no education but what is got out of books at school? Is not the lad who works in the fields getting an education?' and the public lacks the courage to say definitely, 'No, he is not,' because there is no clear notion current as to what education means, and how it is to be distinguished from vocational training. But the people begin to understand and to clamour for an education which  shall qualify their children for life rather than for earning a living. As a matter of fact, it is the person who has read and thought on many subjects who is, with the necessary training, the most capable whether in handling tools, drawing plans, or keeping books. The more of a person we succeed in making a child, the better will he both fulfil his own life and serve society (from Towards a Philosophy of Education, pp. 2, 3, quoted in For the Children's Sake, p. 14). 

It took some time and a quite a bit of reading and chatting with other parents and educators before I began to develop my own philosophy of education. "Charlotte Mason . . . a great educator . . . not only said that she treasured a child's mind, but she acted upon that belief. Charlotte Mason enjoyed sharing the good things of life with the eager minds of children" (p. 16). Ah. As do I: three in particular. And that makes these days fulfulling. Yes, I am content.

After college, I spent a few years teaching at a junior college. I didn't realize it then, but I was employing some of Ms. Mason's philosophies with my adult students. I knew most of them would never read any classic literature, so I read it to them. We didn't finish the entire book, but I had a few of them tell me later that although they were resistant at first, they loved the story and bought the book to be able to read it on their own. It was  A Separate Peace. Later, I taught at a homeschool tutorial two days per week. We read some rich literature, discussed it, fiddled around with grammar and syntax, wrote several different pieces, and I fell in love with homeschoolers. My heart opened up to children again. I warmed to the idea of being a Mom.

Now that many of my students are adults, I've asked them if they think I should homeschool my children. They know me. They know my children. They know what it is to be homeschooled. Every single one has responded with a resounding, "Yes."

I truly love these three little people whom God has entrusted to me and my husband, and I desire to serve them--not only with good food to eat and clothes to wear but also to nourish their minds and clothe their hearts. As Macaulay closes her first chapter of For the Children's Sake, "What Is Education?" I will close this post:

Let us really and truly be courageous. . . . One day we will stand before the Creator. Were we willing to give, serve, and sacrifice "for the children's sake"?

("For the Children's Sake" is the motto of the Charlotte Mason College, Ambleside, England.)

Is my life marked by giving, serving, and sacrificing for the sake of my children? Indeed, I hope so.

Photo by Beth Berger

Peacock Grandma and My Favorite Aunt Vicki pics