Children and church

Christian Unschooling.com has a new post up about taking unschooled children to "Children's Church."

This can be such a challenging issue. As adult Christians we want the fellowship, or the litany, and to be fed in the Word, and we want to our children to feel at home at church, so they'll continue to be a part of the Body as they grow up. Some people go from church to church looking for a place where children are welcomed and families have options -- not just a place to drop off their kids, not just a program to entertain and "educate" them, but a place where Christ resides.

For me, the issue has always been ensuring that I respect what my children are ready for. My oldest son wanted to be with me until he was a toddler, and then he wanted to be where he could play and move. I volunteered in the nursery, but he was fine without me, too. My second son was totally different. He wasn't ready to leave my side until he was 5. So, he didn't. He was either with me in church, or I was with him in Sunday school.

My third son is just now old enough to attend Sunday school without me. I've been a nursery volunteer since before he was born. I haven't seen much of the inside of the sanctuary in that time, but that's okay. This Sunday, I took him in, got him settled, and then sat in the hallway listening to the class for 45 minutes.

I hadn't planned to spend the hour eavesdropping, it just worked out that way. (Honestly, I just needed a nap!) I did want to make sure he was truly okay with being there. The initial activity centered on coloring, which he doesn't care much about. But they didn't make him do it. He just sat and chatted, and the teachers were very sweet.

We are fortunate to be members at a fairly small parish, where the rules are not so firmly in place as to make flexibility for each child impossible. I know some local large churches where new parents would never be allowed to stay in the nursery with their toddler, while both parent and child take time to get comfortable there. But that's been regular practice while I've been involved in our nursery -- partly because it was important to me.

I'm typically not afraid to make my opinions known when I think it's really important. And I'm willing to step in and help if that's what it takes to make things how I think they should be. Not everyone feels comfortable doing that, and I'm sure it could get messy and obnoxious if everyone were like me!

I think the important thing is to know what's right for your child, and not to give up or give in if it's clearly not working. Try something different. Don't be afraid to ask for changes. Pray about it, and do what feels Right.

How do you hold a moonbeam in your hand?

Can you see the urchin in the blue shirt, hiding up in the fig tree?

The figs have begun to ripen this week, so our older two boys have spent a lot of time climbing the dusty, spider-filled branches to collect the fruit. Eldest is especially fond of sitting up there, sucking up the gooey red insides until he can't reach any more.

I hope those branches will stay strong enough to hold him for a very long time.

On Saturday, he participated in his first kung fu "form competition." The students demonstrate a memorized series of stances, blocks and strikes used to develop fluency. Each class has its own form, using the moves practiced at that level.

Eldest is in the advanced kids class, but he is the youngest by a year. He practiced his form at home all week to prepare for the competition, and we were very proud of him. Middlest has also started taking kung fu, but the beginning students didn't participate in the competition. He happily cheered on his brother.

The focus at the kung fu studio is "Discipline, Diligence, and Determination." It's been a good combination for Eldest, who at times has reminded me of a cross between the Absent-Minded Professor and Maria vonTrapp, with plenty of Hagrid thrown in the mix!

We were watching "The Sound of Music" tonight, while packing for another trip tomorrow. The boys like the part when the nuns at the abbey sing about Maria.

The song always reminds me of my firstborn. How do you catch a wave upon the sand? But tonight for the first time, he recognized himself in it. I noticed a look on his face. A little bit uncomfortable, a little self-conscious.

"If I were a girl, I'd be named Maria," he said to me, rather seriously. "You'd name me that because of the movie."

He's the child who loves to wander outside by himself, listening to the trees, talking to the bees. He doesn't walk, he bounces. He loses his shoes every day, forgets to finish tasks, and entertains his brothers as often as he irritates them.

"I like Maria," I said. I want him to know that he is not a problem. He is adored, even when he is driving us a little bonkers.

We have watched him mature so much over the last year, and lately I'm just trying to figure out how to keep up with him. He already knows more than I do about most of God's creatures. He remembers everything he's ever heard on Animal Planet, Discovery and National Geographic.

Last week he said to me, "You know, Mom, there's a difference between unschooling and homeschooling. Can we do a little more homeschooling?"

I think that means he's ready for more input from me, more suggestions, more sitting down together to study something new. Less "letting be."

Well, sweet boy, I will make my best attempt at it.

Wake me up in 30 minutes.

I LOVE this. I napped every day when I was pregnant with each of my kids -- completely guilt-free. A mama needs rest to grow a new baby, right? Duh.

But when I'm not pregnant (like, now), I feel a twinge of guilt when I get the urge to crash on the couch before the day's duties appear "done." (But seriously, when is it ever done? Even when I don't nap...?)

Most days, I just push myself until the kids' bedtime -- and then I fall asleep, too. Leaving no time alone with hubby. More guilt. More feeling like something's wrong with me because I need as much sleep as my kids.

This is ridiculous.

When our bodies need rest, we should rest. Stay-at-home parents usually have ready access to a sofa or bed. We should be able to fulfill this basic need than most people -- as long as our little ones are not in danger of escaping into the street or falling into the toilet. So why don't we?

Doctors nap at work. They have to. They're on call for 24 hours at times. So are parents. And our job is just as important. Just saying.

So, hey, it's the weekend. And it's probably hot outside. Give yourself a break and go take a nap. I will, too.

Milestones for Littlest

Over last few months, we started mentioning the possibility of Littlest sleeping in the "big boys'" room.

But, we said, "not until you're three." I didn't want him to feel rushed, but I wanted it to feel special. Of course, he didn't know quite what that meant, to "be three."

Until he realized he was having a birthday -- you know, one of those days when you get presents! And eat cake! And everyone sings to you!

After his birthday, he started asking about the big boys' room. "Mommy, when do I get to sleep in the bottom bottom bed?"

We are blessed to have a bunk bed with a trundle underneath, so all three boys can share a room.

We got to work one day last week, cleaning up the toys under the bed so the trundle would go in and out smoothly. Then I put on the vehicle-themed sheets I'd been saving for him, and the beautiful, summery quilt my friend Emily made him.


Does he look a little bit excited?


Oh, and he's using the potty now, too. Wonder of wonder, miracle of miracles!

He's 3 now. Not a baby. One of the big boys. And he knows it. He's wearing underwear. He's sleeping in his own bed.

What's next, college?

Fortunately, he'll have to stop nursing before he can move into the dorms. ;)

Gratituesday: Unschooling Reading

After four months of avoiding our late fees at the library, we finally headed back to the land of abundant knowledge two weeks ago. I love, love, love that I can check out our library system's offerings online, request the books I want, and have them waiting for me at the front desk.

I realized after we got home that I was a bit self-centered in my book collecting. Where are all the books for the kids?! Maybe it's because I'm still getting used to the idea that my boys are turning into readers!

I was a pretty confident unschooler when we started this homeschooling journey. It helped that UberDad and I were both early readers. We figured it out before starting school, so why couldn't our kids learn to read without school?

At the same time, I didn't expect that they'd be early readers just because we were. For one thing, my parents didn't have money for a lot of toys, but we went to the library frequently. And my mother was fond of flashcards. We didn't have a television until I'd already read the "Little House" series.

I didn't want television around here either, but that turned out to be hopeless. Let's just say I'm still working on my boundary issues -- and my mother's incredibly generous. Plus Eldest is a visual/auditory learner who soaks up everything he can learn from cable. Despite my own love for learning via text on a page, I don't believe it's the only way to learn.

And despite the fact that our tv sees plenty of use, our kids are also surrounded by books at home, and have spent a fair amount of time in bookstores and the library, and of course, being read to.


I knew it was only a matter of time before they'd begin reading on their own. If I'd been worried or in a hurry, we would have spent less time on field trips and at the park, and more time on the couch. But I wasn't -- and my boys like to get out and DO.

Not that I never wondered if I should be doing more. I know people who swear by using 100 Easy Lessons. (I borrowed it once, and got through two lessons before we were all bored.) And ZooPhonics sounds so fun and creative! (But you can buy a lot of books for $400.)

But when I prayed about it, I always got the same answer:

Commit your way to the LORD; trust in him and he will do this(.)
--Psalm 37:5

So I stuck with just answering their questions, and reading to them as often as our schedule allowed. I buy plenty of books, but no programs.

It has been a fascinating journey to watch. Eldest has been blessed with an incredible memory, and he prefers to memorize what words look like, using context, phonics (or just asking me) to figure them out first. He reads with beautiful inflection, but he's not crazy about sounding out longer words himself. He remembers faster from hearing me say it.

Middlest uses mostly phonics, and isn't intimidated by larger words. He reads more slowly because he's not sight-reading as much -- and because he wants to read harder books, not the "easy-to-read" stuff.

After reading a couple Dr. Suess books with help in March, he decided he wanted to read "The Tale of Despereaux." A friend gave him a copy for Christmas, and he wanted to read it himself.

So, we started reading it together, one paragraph at a time because that was enough for him. He needed a lot of help, but in just TWO PAGES — over the span of a week, his reading improved significantly. All that exposure to bigger words built up his phonics skills and gave him great confidence. It’s not the only thing we’re reading, so I can see how much better he’s getting at the easy stuff.


Last week, while I was horizontal on the couch, the boys took turns reading aloud to me and to each other. Eldest was so excited to be able to read his favorite Captain Underpants books himself.

"Reading is my new very favorite thing to do!" he said to me one afternoon.

And my heart leapt.

It works! It really works! I haven't messed up my children's chance to learn to read! I haven't missed any "window of opportunity."

They've also escaped being labeled "learning disabled" because they preferred to play outside than sit still and listen to lessons at age five. They've learned without pressure, in their own way, and in their own time.

And they can still be bibliophiles like their parents! For this, I am truly grateful.

How does your garden grow?

Thank you for all the birthday wishes! I had a lovely day with my family, yummy food, roses, and two trips to the bookstore! I picked up a little inspiration with a giftcard from my friend Lauri. And my parents gave me an ice cream maker -- which kept the boys busy for a while yesterday!


They also spent a long time counting change from their piggy banks and sorting into bank rolls, which I found at the Dollar Tree last week. I was grateful for the distraction since the weather was wild outside, and I had a headache from a nasty fall on Monday. (I'm fine, but the stool for getting onto the trampoline is not! Yes, it's true, I'm officially too old for jumping... haha!)


Today we started our Disappearing Eggshell experiment -- but I realized my camera was dead too late to charge it! Maybe I'll get some pics of the final result tomorrow. In the meantime, I wanted to finally post about how our garden is doing!

This was the view from my kitchen window a couple weeks ago. The Chinese elm had just leafed out, and it was so peaceful outside.


Later, the wind picked up, and it became a little tricky to get out and garden since the dust and pollen gave us all the sneezes and sniffles. On Palm Sunday we stayed home from church so as not to gross everyone out, and spent some time catching up on our neglected garden.

My Eldest and Littlest helped plant potatoes next to the onions and garlic.

My seedlings have not done as well as I'd hoped, though I knew I was taking a chance to start them outside. The lettuces did fine, and three out of four green beans came up, but only one squash and one tomato sprouted. No peppers.

I'm hoping it's not to late to try again, this time in the ground directly. I gave in and bought a 6-pack of tomatoes just to have some. Then, a few days ago, I found a volunteer tomato plant sprouted in last season's compost pile! I carefully moved it to a safer place, so I hope the transfer doesn't kill it.

We weeded the peas and blackberry vines, which are doing great. Blooms on the berry vines already!

I planted cilantro with the tomatoes, but I need to clear out the winter patch to make room for more herbs. I will probably add some store-bought eggplant and peppers when this crazy weather is over. It's been in the 60s and very windy this week, but it's supposed to be in the 90s by the weekend!

The 20-foot stretch of ground below gave me the most trouble this spring. I spent hours and hours over the last three months combing through the soil with my gloved hands, filling buckets with broken glass, and digging up piles of tuberous roots.

A nasty, invasive tall grass has thrived in that spot since before we bought the house 11 years ago. My friend who gardened in our yard for 5 years had just ignored it. He dug up 90 years worth of broken glass from all over our yard, but after one or two attempts to get rid of the grass, decided it was too much trouble! But its time was up. I REALLY wanted to use that space.

Last week I finished amending the soil with the huge mound of compost Scott brought home for me. Into the ground went my corn and green beans!! Now we'll see if my trouble pays off, or if the grass takes over again!

We also planted our climbing summer squash. See how the Bibb lettuce self-seeded behind the trellis? I've been thinning the volunteers for weeks! They're doing way better than the lettuce I started myself even though they sprouted days apart.


We're also just enjoying the blooms of spring...


How is your garden growing?

Luck o' the Irish

What can I say? We love St. Patrick's Day around here! I'm only about an eighth Irish, but my parents got married on St. Paddy's Day, so it's a very special day.

Our friends sent us home with green eggs from their Americauna chickens yesterday, and somehow they made green scrambled eggs! Must have been our Leprechaun. We drank green tea, listened to Irish music on Pandora, and the boys had an Irish jig dancing contest.

Our friends across the street came by to bring us shamrock cookies and let us know that our neighborhood Leprechaun had come through their house, left treats and made a big mess -- green footprints everywhere AND he hid their schoolbooks! So, no homeschool today!


Well, of course, the boys were convinced the Leprechaun must have left coins at our house, too! As it turns out, the economy has hit even magical creatures clad in green -- apparently the Leprechaun is carrying silver and pewter this year instead of gold.


After the Leprechaun left evidence of his presence in the house, the boys were determined to find him again -- even if they had to search the whole neighborhood.


But all we found was this cute dancing replica he left behind for our friends...


That's okay, he did turn our milk green. So, we had to eat green mac & cheese for lunch.


Fortunately, dinner was of a less fluorescent variety. I made Irish Beef Stew and soda bread to celebrate my parents' anniversary. Here's to another lucky 36 years, Mom & Dad!

Thank you! And, anonymous comments.

Just a quick post to thank everyone for their helpful advice regarding answering my son's question yesterday!

So far, we have handled things the way many of you suggested, as far as answering one question at a time and not overwhelming them with info. The boys seem to have forgotten the topic for now, but I do feel more prepared to fill in the missing details the next time the ask.

Also, if you left an anonymous message in hopes of winning the giveaway, I need to know who you are! (Yes, Lauri, I know one of them is you. :) Just leave one more message, and sign your name at the bottom.

Have a good day! We're off to a Valentine's Day party with our homeschooling group!

The Pregnant Pause

We interrupt this Giveaway to bring you news of an embarrassing sort. Warning: This post is rated PG-13. (Yes, Iris, that means you should probably skip it, less your innocence be scarred. Thanks for understanding.)

So, remember how I was complaining awhile back about all the people around me getting pregnant with their fourth babies? The conspiracy continues.

My favorite bloggers are mothering newborns, and now I'm surrounded by pregnant people in real life. This would be understandable if I were still teaching birth classes. I am not. I stopped teaching birth classes because they made me want to be pregnant all the time, and I finally realized that was not going to work.

Anyhow, as I was saying, I am surrounded by pregnant people. Yay, babies! Ahem. Two of my closest friends, their pregnant bellies (still tiny yet), and their many already-born children were here today in order to give me a reason to bake Valentine cookies. One lives across the street from me.

Then there are the neighbors to the north. Two out of three are pregnant. The third lets her boyfriend spend the night quite frequently, and better be filtering her water.

In any case, all these expectant ladies around the house lead to some interesting dinner table conversations with my six- and seven-year-old sons. They have a better-than-average understanding of birth. We have discussed many aspects of plant and animal reproduction. But we've never quite gone all the way to the question that came up tonight...

"Mom, how do you get pregnant?"

That, my friends, left me tongue-tied, looking at the clock, and noticing that it was WAAAAYYY past bedtime, and maybe-we-could-finish-this-very-interesting-conversation-Some-Other-Time.

Goodness gracious, people, I don't want to give the kids nightmares! I need a PLAN! So, when and how did you explain the S word to your kids?

Baby, it's cold outside...

Cold is relative, of course. This is California, and we'll take our winter however we can get it. Even if our snow has to come in the form of sugar cookies.

Yesterday we headed to the park with a bunch of our homeschooling friends, and the kids were so cold their fingers and noses were aching in the first 10 minutes. After running around for half an hour trying to warm up, those without coats took a break from climbing up the slides to huddle under a fleece blanket together.

Unless you're planning a trip to the nearby snowy mountains, most people don't even own real coats around here. I only remembered gloves for one of my boys, the other two had to hide their hands in their sleeves.

Of course, after a while, they were having so much fun (and their digits were so numb) that only the parents noticed the sun still hadn't shown up, and it seemed like it was getting colder, not warmer. Eventually, we had to drag them away, crying, "But it's NOT cold!"

Back home we made hot chocolate first thing, and settled into our cozy, warm, 64-degree house.

It's been a lovely week. The day before, we spent all day with friends turning paper into snowflakes, making snowflake crystals, and eating snowflake cookies -- of course.

In case you don't have real snow outside either -- or maybe you do and the cold is truly foreboding...

I used our snowflake cookie cutter and this recipe to make vegan sugar cookies and frosting. Because of the soymilk, the frosting isn't truly white, so you might try rice or cow's milk instead.

We used white coffee filters for easy cut-out snowflakes. Just fold them in half, then in thirds to get six sides.

Crystal Snowflakes (courtesy of Hogwarts Homeschool, Mugglefied by me)

3 cups boiling water
9 Tbs borax
Heat-proof glass or jar (wide-mouthed canning jars work great)
White chenille stem ("pipe cleaner"), cut into thirds
Fishing line or string
Pencil

1) Twist the cut stems together, and spread into a snowflake shape.
2) Tie one end of the string to the shape, the other to the pencil, with just a few inches between so the wire snowflake doesn't sit on the bottom of the jar.
3) Fill the jar with boiling water, add the Borax one Tbs at a time, stirring each time.
4) Lower shape into the mix, set the pencil across the opening of the jar.
5) Let it sit overnight undisturbed.

Pumpkin blessings

I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.

--John 12:24 (NIV)

We attempted to grow pumpkins this summer, and were not very successful. But I learned some things:

1. Do not try to grow 8 pumpkin plants in the same mound just because all the seeds sprouted and you hate to kill a baby plant. Thinning is crucial to healthy growth. (That goes for my list of to-dos, too.)

2. Compost is wonderful, but steer manure is even better for pumpkins. The food should fit the seedling. (Chocolate soymilk for one. Beef jerky for another.)

3. Don't get lazy when it comes to watering. (Or listening.) Pumpkins need more water on hot days, not less, just because you don't feel like getting off the couch.

Fortunately, the local farm we visit each fall had no trouble producing enough pumpkins for what appeared to be our entire city. (Everyone in town seemed to be visiting the same day we were.) The farmer's daughter even gave us an awesome lesson on how pumpkin grow. (Though I thought she made it seem easier than my personal experience.)

Plus, they had some really cool tractors to look at, including this enormous machine:



We even got to follow the Children in the Corn Maze:


After the pumpkin patch, we headed to a nearby park to meet some friends for treats and crafts. The kids made Monster Hands with popcorn and candy corn stuffed into gloves. They decorated (and ate) sugar cookies. They glued cotton ball teeth onto Jack-O-Lanterns. They bobbed for apples. (And hopefully didn't spread too many nasty germs.)


I made vegan pumpkin cookies for the party, and while I probably posted this last year, I'll share it again. Because I'm just nice that way.

Vegan Pumpkin Cookies

1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup firmly packed brown sugar
1/2 cup shortening
1 cup pure pumpkin puree (canned, or roast your fresh pumpkin and scoop out a cup)
1 tsp. vanilla extract
2 cups flour (I use half all purpose, half whole wheat pastry flour)
1 tsp each: baking powder, baking soda and cinnamon
1/2 tsp each: salt, ginger and nutmeg
1 cup chopped, toasted pecans

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Mix sugars and shortening. Add pumpkin and vanilla and mix well. In separate bowl, mix dry ingredients. Blend flour mixture into pumpkin mixture. Add pecans.

Scoop spoonfuls onto greased cookie sheet, press down with a fork, and sprinkle with sugar. Bake for approx. 12 minutes at 350 degrees.

Enjoy!

For as the soil makes the sprout come up and a garden causes seeds to grow, so the Sovereign LORD will make righteousness and praise spring up before all nations.

--Isaiah 61:11 (NIV)

If I went to a therapist...

What would I say?

Sometimes I have conversations in my head -- monologues, actually, as though I'm talking about my life to a therapist. And I wonder, would it do me any good to actually see one? Not that I'm asking because I've never been. I have. Last year around this time I called our insurance for a referral at the insistence of my beloved because I NEEDED HELP. I was freaking out. I was sad. I was overwhelmed. I was feeling like a failure.

That's what it basically comes down to. That's why I let my temper go when I do. If I could be rational about it in the moment, my anger almost always comes down to feeling like I've failed somehow.

I'm not being the wife or mother I want to be. I'm failing at my immediate goals, and therefore at my larger goal. I've set the bar where I think it needs to be, and now the person I'm aiming to please has somehow let me know that it's not working. Last night was a typical example. I was making dinner, but apparently not fast enough. The kids were whining from hunger, and Scott was looking at the clock and hovering, wondering if we'd be done with dinner in time to take our oldest to kung fu. And I snapped. I snap, and then I pass the blame. Because it hurts too much to be the one failing. It must be someone else's fault.

Or this morning. I wanted to get outside and work in the garden before it got too hot. But I'd woken up late, again, still wasn't feeling well, and the boys wanted me to PLAY with them outside, not just do my own thing. The whining. I HATE the whining. I hear whining and I think, "For heaven's sake! You have more toys than a city's worth of kids in Africa! You have TWO brothers to play with! You don't have to spend six hours every day at school or with me hovering over you making you do schoolwork! You just got to spend three days playing with friends, swimming, and going to an aquarium! You have a trampoline, a swingset, and chickens to play with! Could you just let me WEED for TWENTY MINUTES!?"

Those things are all true. But where does the frustration and anger really come from? It comes from a quiet, but insistant internal voice that questions the decisions I've made. That doubts that I really know what I'm doing as a parent. That wonders, "Maybe you've given them TOO much. Maybe you're expecting too much FROM THEM. Maybe you haven't given them what they REALLY need. Maybe you're just too selfish and independent to homeschool. Maybe you don't really get unschooling, and you're just using it as an excuse to do your own thing."

And a louder voice insists, "You deserve time to yourself. You have things you need to get done! They're just spoiled and need to get a grip." This is the Attitude that too often takes over my mouth.

Either way, I've failed. I haven't managed my time well enough. I haven't kept my immune system strong enough to have the strength and energy I need. I'm not being the mother I want to be. And it pisses me off.

Then the voice of reason, a still small Voice whom I like to call God, says, "You're tired. You have a cold. You're trying to do too much. The boys don't feel well either and don't want to be out in the heat. It's okay to go inside and leave the weeds for another day. The important thing is that you show them you love them."

I've still failed. I've still fallen short of the glory of God. But somehow, it's going to be okay. If I listen to His voice.

Duh. He's not expecting me to be perfect right now. I'm here to keep learning. He just wants me to follow Him and stop trying to do and be everything on my own. Only His standard counts.

I think I don't go to therapy because I'm not sure what voice I would hear there. If it's not His, then I don't want to hear it.

My Faith has been challenged a lot in the last couple years. It's been hard to hear His voice sometimes. I'm ready to quiet the monologue and listen carefully for a while.

Carol's kids

This is the kind of mother I would like to be. I have a long way to go.

Indoor Fun: Playdough recipe

Some places have rainy days. Some have snow days or storm days. Here in central California, we have "Bad Air Days." Most of the time, I don't worry about it too much, and we go out if we need to. But who wants to go out when it's 107 outside with 40 percent humidity, and the sunlight is orange from all the smoke in the sky? We can see all too clearly the far-reaching effects of all the recent fires around the state.

So, we watch more movies and read more books in July (and January, actually) than any other time of the year. Last week it was time to make some new playdough, too. I hadn't made any in months because of my mixer being out of sorts.






The bug parts came as a kit from Insectlore.com a few Christmases ago. I'm not sure if they still have them or not, but they have been a favorite around here for a long time.

Here's my recipe:

2 1/2 cups flour
1/2 cup salt
2 packets favorite color of Koolaid
1 Tbs Cream of tartar
3 Tbs cooking oil
1 1/4 cups very hot water

Boil some water. Mix dry ingredients. Add oil. Add water. Mix until dough peels away from sides or is cool enough to knead by hand. Keeps for a month in a Ziploc if put away immediately after playing.

What's your favorite indoor activity to set up for the kids?

What kind of mother hen are you?

What type of Mother Hen Are You?
by Montessorimom.com: Educational Resource

To the mother of the lively boys...

Right before Christmas, an anonymous reader commented on this post about my ideas about spanking. I've just finally finished my reply to her here, and I really hope she hasn't given up on me completely and might still see it.

Dear Anonymous

I haven't posted about parenting issues in SO long. It's just such a sensitive issue, and sometimes I feel like I'm not following my own philosophy well enough to have the right to proselytize it. But I still get new comments on my old spanking posts every once in a while. Like this one from an anonymous reader:

"Your column is making me feel extremely guilty. with 2 naughty boys who are a year apart and the parenting part left to me - spanking has become a way of life. Yes I dread to think of the day when spanking will be ineffective. If we go visiting then they jump on the sofas, tear the flowers in the garden, act as if famished even if they are well fed up to the brim at home. Of course there is the pressure of relatives that your kids are intolerant, indisciplined. HELP" --Anonymous

Oh, dear mama, I do understand! We've all been there. Raising kids is incredibly challenging no matter how you do it. And active children close in age will always make the relatives talk. Plus we have to deal with our own "need" to please other adults, and the inner conflict that comes when the desires of other adults conflict with the desires and needs of our children.

It's not easy to mediate between our children and the world, but we often have to as parents. It's not easy to be patient and creative enough to find a solution that works for everyone in a situation. It's a lot of effort. But it's also worth it.

At some point we have to ask ourselves: What is most important here? What am I teaching my children about the world, themselves, and their mother by how I react in this situation? What do I really believe about my children?

Do I really believe that they are "naughty" boys who need to be corrected and punished? Or do I believe that they are unique individuals worthy of respect and love as they learn how to navigate this complicated world? Can I trust that they have a sense of what they need and are just trying to express it even if it comes out in ways that are inconvenient for the adults around them?

Kids do need to jump, run, explore, and try new things. They want to know what's in Grandma's pantry that they don't have at home. They want to touch the flowers as well as smell them. It doesn't mean they're "naughty." That's how they learn! Some kids respond to "no" because they want to please the parent more than they want to explore what's in front of them. Others want to learn about the world so badly that they're willing to sacrifice pleasing you. That's a matter of both temperament and trust.

So, what to do with children who trust you enough to follow their own hearts and risk displeasing you? First, be glad that they know you love them. Second, be grateful for the strong wills that will serve them well in adulthood. Know that a child with a strong will can survive a lot of parenting mistakes with his True Self still intact.

And trust yourself. No one loves your children more than you do. You will make mistakes. You can learn from them just as your children will learn from theirs. It takes practice, but after awhile it becomes second nature to notice what your kids need in the way of room to be active and noisy, and to find ways to support them.

Find support for yourself, too. Seek out like-minded parents, choose friends who enjoy lively children, check out online support groups such as http://groups.yahoo.com/group/NoMoreSpanking/. We all become more like the people we spend the most time with. So make sure you like how those people treat your children.

And then, enjoy your kids! Have fun with them! Learn to laugh and play like they do! It can be difficult for those of us who eventually learned to be "good" to let go and be silly again. I'm still learning. But our kids are worth it.

Confessions of an at-home parent with other dreams

Every once in a while I find myself wondering what I've gotten myself into. Like, when I decided I wanted to be a stay-at-home mom, was it really because I wanted to spend all my time with my kids, or was it just because I was tired of my job and wanted an excuse to hang out at home, learn to cook and knit, and let my husband support me guilt-free? Or, when I started reading learning theory and thinking about the aspects of school I wanted my kids to miss out on, did I realize that I would have kids at home for the next TWO DECADES?

Sometimes I let neighborhood kids come over for hours at a time just so my kids will have someone else to talk to and will leave me to think my own thoughts uninterrupted for a whole ten minutes. Then when the neighborhood kids start talking to me, I pretend to be deaf. "I'm sorry, did you say something? Maybe you should go home and tell your mother about it, 'cause I can't hear you."

There's nothing like other people's Christmas letters to make you start re-evaluating your life. And when that's too painful, you just start judging how THEY spent their time this year. "Oh, so you took a few days away from your kids this year, did you? Guess you just couldn't handle the full-time parenting gig, huh?" No, no jealousy there. Not a smidge!

For most of my career as a mother I've belonged to the camp convinced that "good" mothers never want to pawn their children off on someone else. Except in special cases. Like doctor appointments. Or the occasional date with your husband. (Movie OR dinner, never both.) And only leaving them with your mother or someone else as trustworthy as yourself. Pity the woman whose mother lives on the opposite coast or who believes Oreos and nonorganic milk are an appropriate snack for children. She'll just have to wait for hubby to come home to take her shower.

In some circles, wanting to have a break from your children means either a) your children are driving you nuts because your discipline techniques are weak, b) your children are driving you nuts because you have inadequate patience and creativity to adequately meet their needs, or c) you shouldn't have had kids in the first place because you're obviously too selfish to be a full-time parent.

While some version of this philosophy insidiously infiltrates every social circle, there isn't a mother alive who's never wanted a few minutes to herself to poop with the door closed. Most of us want a little more.

It's taken me a long time to admit to myself that I do want more. Sure, I want to be the best mom and wife I can be. Sure, I want to enjoy the privilege I've been given to watch my children grow up before my eyes. I want to enjoy what they have to teach me about living in the moment, about creating unbounding joy out of sunshine and sticks, about accepting the waves of emotion that come as life's ups and downs wash over me. I don't want to give up any of that. Not even for the chance to learn how to spin yarn. Or go to the newest Harry Potter film without having to leave halfway through. Or take a yoga class even though it's at dinnertime and my kids will be inhaling corn dogs and tater tots while I exhale my negative chi.

And yet, I do want to do those things. I want to do them guilt-free, trusting that I'm still a good mother even if I desire things that will take me away from my children. Most of my desire has nothing to do with getting away from the people I love and everything to do with going toward something else that interests me. But it shouldn't matter. It should be OK just to want to get away sometimes. It doesn't mean we're inadequate as parents. It doesn't mean our children will suffer. It doesn't mean we're selfish.

At some point, we have to turn off the voices in our heads, ignore the looks and whispers among the playgroup mothers, and give ourselves permission to chase our other dreams. Yes, becoming a mother was a dream of mine. But it wasn't the only one. And while motherhood is a life-long position with never-ending demands, even the most important job on the planet deserves some time off.

Checking in.

Just a quick note to say, yes, I'm still alive, just busy and tired.

Fall colds have kept us from sleeping well at night, and made us cranky during the day. A pinworm scare sent us to the doctor, and I had to disinfect the house two days after the housekeeper had been here. After skipping swim lessons and canceling playdates just in case, turns out it was just an itchy bottom that went away without explanation.

Besides that, we've been busy with kung fu lessons, the usual errands, meeting friends at the park, and trying to keep up with messes Baby Fish has been making all over the house! I finally got out the baby gate to put up between the kitchen and dining room after I almost killed myself tripping over a cooking pot that blended into the wood floors. Baby can go where he wants. Pots must stay in the kitchen. Toys must stay OUT of the kitchen.

I'm so harsh, I know.

Next week UberDad is going to a teacher conference for four days, and I'm alone with the kids. My mother's in London for the month, so there's no one to rescue me from the chaos. Don't expect to see me posting here. Although maybe it would be therapeutic. Neglectful, I'm sure, but therapeutic.

One lap, shared.

My 4yo stole a rare moment on my empty lap this evening. He has gotten so tall and lanky he barely resembles the chubby baby that used to ride around in a sling all day long. Now his little brother is the one most often on my hip, but he never seems to resent it. Grouper is more likely to smother Baby Fish with too tight a hug than do anything that expresses jealousy.

No, tonight it was the baby's turn to be jealous.

It took me a minute to realize what he was upset about. UberDad recognized it first. "He doesn't want Grouper sitting on your lap!" my husband laughed, watching the baby scoot over to the sofa from his playmat, dismay in his voice and on his face.

I smiled at him as he came closer, but hugged my middle son tighter, not ready to give up our cuddle. "Your brother is my baby, too!" I said. "But you can come up and join us!"

I pulled him up on the couch, and set him on his brother's lap. We were nestled one on top of another like his stackable wooden boxes, though I wasn't sure that it would be enough. It was -- he was happy to be a part of the cuddle for a moment. Then he slid off to crawl along the sofa and giddily bounce against the cushions.

How lucky am I? He could just as easily have reached out to grab Grouper's face like he does the cat's tail, in an attempt to wrestle his place back. But he didn't.

At some point every mother worries about jealousy between her children. "If I have another baby, will my first child forgive me?" "How will I give them both enough attention and love?" And sometimes we do exactly what we hope we wouldn't -- we choose one over the other, expecting the older children to understand when we put the baby's needs first -- all day long. Or putting the baby off too long because the older child needed our attention. And sometimes it's just a matter of not having enough hands to do everything we're needed for at once.

Maybe it's luck. An undeserved blessing. Maybe I'm figuring some things out and not making those mistakes as often. In any case, I am grateful for having sons who know the value of a brother, and truly love each other.