Archive for the Purpose Category

Are You out of Your Mind?

While nobody has yet to say this to me, this is the look on some faces when I tell them that we’re seriously considering homeschooling our boys. And definitely doing so for Charlie’s kindergarten year. And I want to scream, “YES! I must be going crazy!” because so often I feel that way, too, even though I can just as easily feel that people are nuts to put their kids into the current system. I can talk myself into and out of homeschooling about as quickly as I can eat a truffle.

Obviously, no one can really predict what will happen year to year, but I have the strong sense that once we’ve jumped the monumental first hurdle of not registering for public school and begun our first projects we won’t be turning back. This may seem like a pretty brazen or extremely naive thing to say, but I have a few reasons that make it somewhat educated. I have yet to meet a single homeschooled child or homeschooling parent who has regretted their choice.  I’m sure they’re out there, but I don’t think they’re anywhere close to the majority. Every parent I’ve talked to immediately lights up with how amazing it has been for their entire family, not just the kids. It’s a little bit like talking to a newly engaged twenty-year-old: you’re happy for them but their giddiness and tremendous energy also makes you feel like you drank decaf. You also can’t help but wonder if they’re overcompensating for the struggles by being overly enthusiastic.

There’s also my heart. I think I know to my core (when I am still and not scared and trusting that we’ll all be ok) that it is best for our oldest and probably will be best for our youngest, too. This could change, but as long as I feel that way, I can’t ignore it. I’ve tried really hard and it keeps coming back. We want our boys to be able to pursue their passions with abandon. If they want to dig in the dirt for an hour, they can. If they want to paint all day, they can. If they want to do written-based work in the car on a trip to the mountains, followed by a hike, so be it. We want them to thoroughly enjoy learning. We want our life to be an education and we want it to be a lot of fun. And there are many more reasons backed up by reading we’ve done–I’ll share those another time.

But it is so crazy! I KNOW! I get scared. Every time someone talks about our neighborhood school positively, I doubt our choice. I freak out a little bit every time I meet a weird homeschooler. We all know them–though I wonder if we’d all be weird if we weren’t trying to shape ourselves to fit in at school because we would be more unique, more ourselves. I wonder if we’ll find a community of homeschoolers that fits us. I wonder if I’ll be lonely and missing my friends with children in public schools. I wonder if we’ll all feel left out from school’s big events.

Despite all those doubts and some yet listed, kindergarten still feels like a no-brainer. Our neighborhood school requires full-day K and you have to pay a hefty monthly tuition to compensate for the lack of full-day funding. And since the school has chosen to focus on providing language immersion and academics, there is not a single dedicated art teacher for any form of art. It is totally up to the classroom teacher to provide music, visual arts, theatre, dance or anything else. I’m sure the teachers do their best to fit these in when possible, but these are Charlie’s passions and we don’t think a full day of dealing with 27+ other classmates and their behaviors while listening to and completing academic lessons he already knows is worth the second language exposure. Especially at the cost of missing the chance to pursue his passions and have some afternoon rest before a group activity. We could supplement art in the afternoons, but I am really wary of over-scheduling the boys and know he also wants to play soccer, pursue music and have downtime. Charlie still sleeps 12 hours a night and definitely needs it. Packing in activities at the cost of play time, family time and sleep has no appeal to me right now.

So, we’re going to take it year by year. Kindergarten will be a great low pressure chance to see how we like home-based education. We will get to know a few local homeschooling groups (Seattle is overflowing with opportunity in this regard), Charlie will likely continue with the Seattle Children’s Theatre next year and his group activities beyond that will come from sports, church, playdates, and anything else that float his boat. He’s already got the K-level academic basics down, so continuing to build his literacy skills, math knowledge, and general world knowledge will be a continuation of how we already function.

We have not run into this decision blindly. Who the heck would do that? Why would a stay at home mom give up the potential for six hours of gardening, cooking, exercising, meeting friends and running errands by herself, uninterrupted?!? This choice does not come easy. In fact, I spent a good year incredibly torn because I felt homeschooling would be the best education for our boys but not if my heart wasn’t in it. I didn’t feel up to it and I was concerned I was going to be angry and eventually bitter. So, late last summer we committed ourselves to the idea of public school, allowing cognitive dissonance to do its work and make us feel fine about our choice. “It’s a bilingual school! It’s going to be a brand new building! Everyone we meet there is happy! Our boys will have more fun!” There’s a lot you can tell yourself to make it feel alright and I eventually forgot about homeschooling and embraced the idea of being an involved public school volunteer.

With the passing of a few months, life got much easier for us. Harry had a steady income. Mr. Toddler was safer, more independent, and didn’t require constant attention. The boys started to play together long enough that I could bake or cook while they were awake without fear of setting the house on fire. I had an outlet for regular exercise while they were cared for and life was much, much better. I was really enjoying my role.

So, into that environment walked my brother, the sailor, spending time unwinding with us after a few months at sea. He is one of several incredibly bright people I know who were failed by the public school system. Bored to death, needing creative outlets, and happier learning from a book than from teachers (I’d bet he had more book smarts than most of his teachers), he skipped high school classes to sit in the public library and read. He got kicked out of high school and later passed the GED with a nearly perfect score (without studying, of course). He’s a voracious reader to this day. Within a few nights of staying with us, he told us about an article he read at sea about a few homeschooler’s experiences while we were eating dinner. The minute he started talking I got a little anxious, sipped on my red wine a little faster. I had grown accustomed to the idea of having time to myself once Miles started preschool, of participating in Charlie’s classroom as a happy volunteer, of having instant community from his classroom peers and more friends for him. But, he got me thinking again. Harry didn’t need any convincing. He had always liked the homeschooling idea but also supported my decision to not do it if I wasn’t passionate about it since I would be doing the bulk of the work.

I was scared, I wanted to fight it, but I eventually started believing that I might really enjoy it. Maybe I was actually in a spot to thrive in the role. Our family has a pretty amazing setup for it right now. Harry works from home and has some flexibility in schedule. He often has jobs that he can do from anywhere there’s an internet connection. So, I began dreaming. What about January in Florida, escaping Seattle’s nasty rain, enjoying sunshine and beach, and learning from Harry’s mom’s house? What about June in Colorado, enjoying a longer summer than Seattle provides and spending time with all our family there? And dare I really dream, what about a year or two in Europe? Introducing our kids to all my Dutch friends from my exchange student year, visiting other friends scattered around the continent? These make my heart jump with delight. And yet I fear holding onto them too tightly because they might not happen.

Those dreams may not ever be the reality of our homeschooling. Harry’s job could change and he could be gone from our home 10 hours a day in a full-time job with very little flexibility. That may change my mind altogether about this endeavor. More likely, though, is that our reality may be some typical “schoolwork” / paperwork and lots of projects, reading, cooking, gardening, beach trips, library visits,volunteering, hikes, walks through the zoo, classes (there is an astounding number of really cool extracurricular activities for homeschooling kids in the city) and maybe a homeschool co-op for some academics.

I have also had the pleasure of working closely and being friends with someone who homeschooled her two boys, now in college, and saw the incredible projects they achieved, the quality of their writing, the passion they maintained for interests that likely would’ve been squashed by peers in public schools. She owns a business, her husband worked contracts and the two of them pieced it together to handle their boys’ learning. I have other friends who grew up spending hours every day just playing with their siblings because they completed their “work” in a few hours. Some completed lots of workbooks without much adult interaction, others completed amazing projects that were very dynamic. You don’t have to guess what we’ll be doing.

But doubt creeps in. I ask myself if I’m crazy. I hear that a dear friend’s son, who is also one of Charlie’s best buddies, will be moving into our school zone and I immediately want to enroll Charlie, too. But I think about it and know that the move feels better for me than for Charlie. I am more worried about my loneliness than the boys being socially isolated. I think to my childhood and the best times I had with friends. All were after school, either in each others’ homes or in extracurricular activities. These things will be easy to work in, especially when my boys are not worn out from a day of school and don’t have homework. I think about how many close friends I had that I really delighted in and know we only need a handful of great companions for the boys to be in quality relationships.

So, consider this my announcement of yet another unusual step by our family. I am comforted deeply that all our past choices that felt stupid, nutty or risky have all been worth it. I think this will be the case again but I can’t always walk boldly in that space. I try to keep my eye on the beauty that will be found in simplicity, the fun that will be had, the passions that will be allowed to fully blossom, the relationships that will be deep and rich. If you catch me forgetting these things, I would love a nudge in that direction. And if you know of fantastic resources, I am always happy to add them to our ever-growing pile. Thank you for supporting us in our many nontraditional ways, dear friends and family!

Saturated

I walked to Macrina with Miles on me in the Ergo in the wind and pouring rain tonight. I had made chunky lentil soup and craved some hearty bread to go with it. So, I grabbed our enormous maroon and white umbrella, strapped Miles on, and made the (two block) trek. Makes us sound real adventurous, doesn’t it? Not that he has a choice in these matters. Because of the gloomy weather, it was magical. Miles was taken with the umbrella and probably the sound of the rain, and held or pat the handle most of the way there and back. On a normally busy promenade, we passed only one other person on foot and very few cars splashed puddles our way. The ground is completely saturated from all the rain we’ve had the past month or two…or decades…so, puddles were enormous and not confined to the streets. All sidewalk cracks and indentations were filling up, too, making our walk a bit of a dance.

Avoiding these small hazards due to uneven, old sidewalks brought Japan to mind and my heart grew heavy. Reading the front-page briefings, seeing NY Times pictures, and watching a few videos online is about all I can handle. I’m not sure when media started posting pictures of the deceased, but it seems recent to me. Either way, I’m not desensitized to it and still find that moments like that, particularly families with loved ones bodies, completely take my breath away and send me sobbing. I have worked in a long-term acute care hospital with a very high mortality rate, so I am accustomed to death more than most. When patients there were taken off life support with family around, it was so sacred that all of staff knew how to properly handle themselves and support the loved ones. It was devastating but beautiful because they all knew it was for the best. These unexpected tragedies are not for the best. I’m not sure that sharing those moments publicly is either. All I know is that I walked a bit slower for awhile and soaked in Miles’ sweet face staring at the umbrella.

It’s been a really beautiful season of life in our household lately and my awareness of all the ridiculously hard parts of life facing some friends and family (sick children, strokes, divorce, deceit, chronic illness, death) has heightened my love for and appreciate of these times. It is wonderful having Harry work from home. Our family is so much more connected and less stressed because of it. Also, we are having daily giggling episodes that I want to bottle up, like when Miles laid on our couch with me crouched above him. He grabbed my hat off my head and laughed like crazy when it landed on his face. We did it over and over again with Miles not tiring of the joke. He’s also found stomach nuzzles particularly funny. And sniffing, especially if I smell his feet and say, “Pee-ew!” afterwards. Charlie’s a huge fan of this game, too.

Much to my relief and surprise, Charlie’s really enjoying Miles’ mobility. He delights in getting Miles interested in him or a toy so that Miles will chase him. Their combined laughter during this game is my absolute favorite sound right now. (I have a playground moment to thank for this- a woman warned me that crawling was the worst adjustment after getting used to a new baby’s arrival, so we started playing differently and problem solving these situations months before Miles could crawl. Now it’s not a surprise and Charlie’s prepared. He still has moments he hates it and at his best suggests that Miles takes a nap or goes to bed and at his worst hits him away, but I’m certain it’s easier than it would’ve been without that planning.)

These experiences, along with thumb-sucking snuggles, are sometimes enough to make me weepy. Harry & I often look at each other to exchange the knowing glance that we are experiencing pure beauty. Learning to seize the day by soaking up laughter and love, being more vulnerable and giving more freely to others is my biggest hope and prayer right now. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. We do not know our days. May I not squander them by focusing my attention on “productivity.” May I be willing to risk that a walk in the rain, slow and wet, might be the highlight of my day. And even if it’s not, at least I have a greek olive loaf to compensate for my soggy pants.

Eating Animals

I mentioned Eating Animals in my last post.  This online talk and discussion allows you to get a taste of the book and the author’s thoughts behind it.  I found it very worthwhile and well done.

http://www.hulu.com/watch/121344/foratv-culture-eating-animals-jonathan-safran-foer?c=News-and-Information#s-p1-sr-i1

Giving Thanks

I am finding more and more that fostering an attitude of thankfulness requires a consistent, deliberate practice.  Without a conscious effort to remember all that is good, it is far too easy to get sucked into the abyss of sadness this world brings.  Even my own current simple challenges–wondering how and when our job/move situation will pan out, feeling pregnancy related pain, and listening to Charlie’s wails and demands when he’s not at his best–can feel life-sucking. Sometimes I almost can’t see my way out unless I talk to someone wise enough to listen just as I need or who happens to be having a worse time.  This is not how I want to foster thankfulness.  I want my heart to know, not just see, the beauty and good in life, regardless of whether my struggles are relatively easier or harder than those of people I interact with.   We are surrounded by such intense pain and suffering that there will always be someone having a harder time somewhere.  Yet, their heart may be in a better spot, more willing to accept life for its ups and downs and trust that life isn’t about the ease with which we get through it.  We are created for so much more than just getting by.

Thanksgiving lends itself to much beauty, not the least of which is that it encourages so many people to stop and think about what they’re thankful for before they stuff themselves silly.  I celebrate this part of Thanksgiving and love that it is a part of Harry and my tradition to share these thoughts.  Additionally, I like that it’s a call to return to or strengthen a practice of meditating regularly on our blessings.  Without giving thanks, I am sure to grow bitter, forgetful, and weary.

There is also plenty about Thanksgiving with which I don’t care to identify or celebrate.  I just read this article about the historical atrocities associated with this holiday and reminded of how deep the pain runs for many Native Americans when our nation recognizes only the happily-presented (elementary school version that many adults still believe) pilgrim part of the story.  Highlighting his years of being bonded by anger, the author’s last line is perfect:  “And we’ll give thanks that we live in a country where remembering the past need not shackle us to it.”  It seems a good balance to discuss the truth and then choose to celebrate the ways that love has triumphed over hate, thankfulness over ungratefulness.

I also find it difficult to swallow the costs associated with Thanksgiving–physically, financially, environmentally, and sadly, for many, spiritually and emotionally–that could be lessened by making a few changes.  (I feel this way about Christmas, too…particularly store bought obligatory gifts.)  I’m all in favor of a local, organic, sustainable Thanksgiving meal.  Not a feast, but a minimalist, stress-free meal that allows people to engage in relational activities and enjoy the day.  This does not have to be any more expensive than a conventional meal.  In fact, by not having a turkey (which wouldn’t bother me one bit), the costs are decreased significantly.  If turkey is a must, getting a heritage turkey seems worth the extra cost.  I’ve heard the flavor is significantly better (maybe I’d actually want turkey annually if I tried one of them) and they’re not packed with hormones.  In fact, they can actually reproduce on their own.  (Isn’t it horrifying that conventional turkeys can’t reproduce!?)  You could cut costs elsewhere by having fewer sides, no alcohol, etc…  Or, don’t eat meat for a few weeks prior and after.  This would also help off-set the environmental impact of the holiday.  We have a very long way to go in celebrating this way, but I believe it is a gift to the world to do so.  It is an acknowledgment that our choices impact the whole world and by choosing simplicity, we are respecting our global neighborhood.

So, I’m done with my truth sharing and moving on towards focusing on love.  We have so much to be thankful for that it’s almost embarrassing.  Yesterday I had a twenty week ultrasound for our littlest Love.  The baby is healthy and growing well, already 11 inches and over 300 grams.  (It also seems to be following in Charlie’s shoes for head size.  Great…can’t wait for labor again.)  The appointment length was going to make Harry’s work day challenging and we both opted for him to stay at work.  So that we could still learn the baby’s gender at the same time, I arranged for a bakery near Harry’s office to prepare a half dozen chocolate coconut cupcakes for a boy and strawberry milkshake ones for a girl.  The ultrasound tech had me turn my head every time I could’ve been informed, praising me all the while for doing a good job not cheating.  She was pretty cute in how proud she seemed of me.  And she was happy to make the call even though she’d never been asked to do so before.   Harry met me at the bakery after the appointment and we eagerly opened up our box and tearfully celebrated our news with a pair of really delicious cupcakes and shots of espresso.  After a few minutes by ourselves, the delightful Tee and Cakes owner, Kim, generously brought us a onesie for the baby.  The staff there couldn’t have treated us better.  I think they liked being in on the secret.  And they probably liked my tears, too.

A few of many other things that keep me singing praises, in no particular order:

Sweet baby Caroline, who has triumphed through a very rough first year of life that included heart failure, feeding tubes, and open heart surgery.  She is as cute as a button and melts your heart with her smile.  She is recovering beautifully and beginning to really hit her stride.  Her parents,  my dear friend Leslie and her husband Mike, have been amazing.  They have inspired me countless times with their optimism, endurance, strength, advocacy, and profound love.

Our friends Lonnie and Juliet finally got to pick up their son from Ethiopia and now have him in their arms on a daily basis.  I got the pleasure of meeting Daniel in October and almost couldn’t believe that he’s cuter in person than he is in his pictures, because his pictures turn me into jello.  The kid is as adorable as they come.  Brightest eyes I’ve ever seen.  Man, I want to hold him right now!  It is such exquisite beauty to see friends who have longed for a family holding their baby in their arms.

My core group girls.  I have absolutely loved getting to know these college women by having them into our home regularly for study and fellowship.  Had I known I would be pregnant or that we might be moving, I probably wouldn’t have signed up to lead a group.  It has deeply enriched these past few months for me.  They have taught me so much with their passion, exuberance, energy, vulnerability, and eagerness to grow.  I will dearly miss meeting with them if we move.  You girls better take a road trip!

Harry’s job.  While it has created a new source of difficulties, it allowed us to stay in our house, rebuild our savings a bit, and take a deep sigh of relief after our year of limited income.  It also gave us the freedom to feel like we could start trying for another child.  Now, it seems, it might be leading us to another source of thankfulness…a return to Seattle.

While leaving Colorado will be heart-breaking and extremely difficult on many levels, we are thankful that jobs exist in Seattle for Harry’s line of work.  If we had to move somewhere else, I can’t imagine how upset I’d be.  But a return to Seattle feels like a return home.  We have never stopped missing our friends and church.  We also have discovered that we’re not suburbia folks…we like city life, even the nitty-gritty.  It is only in the joy of returning to people we dearly miss and love that we can face the pain of leaving others behind.

With that, I hope you all find a moment to reflect on what is good, beautiful, and loving in your life.  If you have read this entire post, you are certainly a good friend to me!  Happy Thanksgiving!!!


Healings, In No Particular Order

In addition to reading his own memorized version of Big Red Barn tonight, Charlie requested that the following be healed tonight during our bedtime prayer:

  • Papa, Mama
  • Pawpaw, Mimi
  • Grandmaw, Grandpaw
  • Grammy Ellen, Grandpaw Jud
  • Uncle Steve
  • kitty cat
  • monkey
  • dinosaur
  • light
  • bed
  • Uncle Steve’s bed
  • Mama and Papa’s bed
  • Elvis (his sock monkey)
  • choo choo
  • a few other things I didn’t understand

Given that the incantation probably would have gone on into the night had there been more time, consider yourself prayed for and healed.